Sea of Tranquility, Emily St. John Mandel, 2022

Rating: 5/5

What struck me the most after finishing Sea of Tranquility was how much it covered in just 200 pages — spanning centuries, multiple storylines, and several themes — without ever feeling rushed or overly complex. Despite its brevity, the novel takes its time with each of its main characters, immersing the reader in their lives making their journeys feel intimate.

It is difficult to write about the book’s premise without spoiling it for readers. Suffice to say, Sea of Tranquility is a beautifully written novel that blends science fiction with human themes. The book follows multiple characters across different timelines. In 1912, Edwin St. Andrew, a young English aristocrat, is banished to Canada and stumbles upon a mysterious anomaly in the forest. In the 2200s, Olive Llewellyn, a bestselling author from a lunar colony, embarks on an Earth book tour, unaware of the eerie parallels between her novel and reality. In 2401, Gaspery-Jacques Roberts, a detective from the Night City on the Moon, is assigned to investigate a strange pattern in time that links these characters. Mandel moves fluidly between the various narratives, keeping the story brisk yet immersive, allowing readers to absorb its multiple layers without feeling overwhelmed. The novel ends satisfyingly, tying the threads of its intricate plot together — a feat that is often difficult in stories of this genre.

The book’s structure reminded me somewhat of Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell, another book that I love. Like that book, Sea of Tranquility weaves together multiple timelines and perspectives, exploring the interconnectedness of human lives across centuries. However, Cloud Atlas leans more heavily on stylistic shifts between its narratives, whereas Sea of Tranquility maintains a more uniform tone. Readers who appreciate the philosophical underpinnings of Cloud Atlas but prefer a more straightforward, emotionally resonant narrative with a dash of science fiction will likely find Sea of Tranquility particularly compelling.

Pros: Elegant writing, interesting themes, easily devoured in one sitting

Cons: Light on the sci-fi mechanics

Chinaman: The Legend of Pradeep Mathew, Shehan Karunatilaka, 2010

Rating: 4/5

I thoroughly enjoyed Karunatilaka's latest novel, The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida, for its zaniness and its sharp, humorous critique of Sri Lanka's political landscape in the 1980s. Given my enjoyment of his more recent work, my expectations for Chinaman, Karunatilaka's debut, were naturally high — a mix of mystery, humour, and cricket (which I follow avidly) promised a compelling read. And for the most part, the book delivers.

Chinaman: The Legend of Pradeep Mathew is narrated by W.G. Karunasena, a washed-up journalist, as he embarks on a quest to uncover the truth behind the disappearance of Pradeep Mathew, an enigmatic Sri Lankan cricketer with unmatched talent. The novel weaves together cricket, mystery, and social critique, as Karunasena explores the underbelly of match-fixing and political corruption within Sri Lankan cricket. Incidentally, a chinaman is a slower delivery bowled by a left-handed bowler to deceive the batter. 

Karunatilaka’s signature humor is on full display in Chinaman, offering a sharp and farcical commentary on Sri Lankan society and the political forces shaping its cricketing world. Through Karunasena's sarcastic observations, the novel skewers the absurdities of fame, the game's politics, and widespread corruption. While the humour is biting, the book does occasionally overstay its welcome. Some sections feel repetitive, and the plot's momentum falters at times, slowing down the story's overall pace.

The novel is laden with cricket references, which may overwhelm readers unfamiliar with the sport. Although cricket plays a central role in the narrative, those with little interest or knowledge of the game may find the terminology and depth of detail challenging. However, for cricket fans or those willing to immerse themselves in the lingo, Chinaman is an engaging and witty read, well worth the effort.

Pros: Witty, novel story

Cons: Drags occasionally, requires knowledge of cricket

What I Learned about Investing from Darwin, Pulak Prasad, 2023

Rating: 3/5

As the title suggests, this books has two themes. One, a discussion of Charles Darwin’s evolutionary theories and two, the translation of those theories to good investment tips. These are two areas that Prasad has expertise in. Accordingly, he prefaces each chapter with a quote from Darwins’s Origin of Species and and one from Warren Buffett’s many letters to his shareholders.

Let’s start with the first theme. Prasad is a seasoned investor in Indian equities with an impressive track record. His firm, Nalanda, achieved a 20% annualized return on its first fund over 15 years, compared to 11% for the benchmark index. This means $1 invested in the fund grew to $14, versus just $4 in the index—a remarkable feat. However, I found some of his views debatable. For instance, Prasad argues that businesses in conglomerates don’t make good investments, yet examples like TCS and Trent from the Tata group tell a different story — they are up 10 times and 21 times in the same period and Trent is up a further 5 times since then. There is also some inconsistency in his approach; while he avoids buying stocks at high valuations based solely on future prospects, he justifies holding existing ones with the same rationale. His strategy is also largely Buffett-inspired so there may be nothing new for readers familiar with Buffett’s style. Despite these critiques, his proven success make his insights worth exploring.

The book’s second theme, evolutionary theory, is less compelling. Although the blurb claims it influenced Prasad’s investment style, the connections often feel forced—such as the stretched analogy between sea urchins, McKinsey, and robust businesses. Prasad is clearly well-versed on the subject and it almost feels that he has simply used it as a “hook” to distinguish this book from many other similar books on investing. That said, some examples, like honeybees’ nesting sites in the final chapter, are intriguing.

At 275 pages, the book is concise, and Prasad’s writing is accessible. However, his frequent repetition of favoorite themes — such as buying great businesses, never selling them, and focusing on Return on Capital Employed — can feel redundant. Despite these flaws, the book offers valuable insights for young investors. Learning from a successful investor like Prasad is always a worthwhile experience.

Pros: An insight into Prasad’s excellent investment record

Cons: Largely “Buffett-isms”, stretched comparisons between evolution and investing

James, Percival Everett, 2024

Rating: 5/5

Percival Everett's *James* initially gave me pause. Could an adaptation of Mark Twain's "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" offer anything significantly different? I approached it with skepticism. To my surprise, Everett delivers something extraordinary—a thought-provoking exploration that retains Twain's spirit while carving out its own unique identity.

James unfolds through the perspective of Jim, and by shifting the narrative to Jim's perspective, Everett deepens our understanding of his inner world, offering a more intimate and complex portrayal than Twain's original. The story introduces compelling new characters, including Daniel Emmett and Norman, whose roles enrich the drama. Emmett, a historical 19th-century minstrel and composer with a complex relationship to slavery, appears early through his songbook—a choice whose significance becomes clear midway through the novel.

Everett masterfully employs two distinct linguistic styles to reflect the complexities of enslaved people's lives. One mimics the way racist white society expected them to speak—a simplified, subservient tone used as a survival shield. As Jim reflects: "The remarkable truth, however, was that it was not the pistol, but my language, the fact that I didn't conform to his expectations, that I could read, that had so disturbed and frightened him." The prose then shifts to a more reflective and nuanced style, highlighting the book's duality: a carefully controlled exterior masking profound truths beneath.

The only notable issue for me lies in the final third's series of convenient coincidences. These unlikely events feel forced and somewhat diminish the emotional impact. Nevertheless, *James* remains a truly lovely read. The depth of its characters, the emotional weight of its themes, and the beauty of its prose outweigh any minor flaws.

Pros: Inventive reimagining of a classic story, rich character development, emotionally resonant themes of survival and identity, and thought-provoking prose

Cons: A series of convenient coincidences in the latter third that occasionally stretch believability

The Last Murder at the End of the World, Stuart Turton, 2024

Rating: 5/5 

Stuart Turton's willingness to reinvent his approach with each book is bold and compelling—one of the reasons I eagerly anticipate his every release. His earlier works, The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle and The Devil and the Dark Water, showcased his range: the first a whodunit with a Groundhog Day-like twist, the second a dark tale of superstition and conspiracy aboard a 17th-century ship. Now he ventures into new territory with a sci-fi apocalypse whodunit, as the title aptly suggests.

Set in a post-apocalyptic future, The Last Murder at the End of the World unfolds on a small Greek island where a deadly fog has decimated humanity. The survivors—122 villagers and three scientists—live under strict rules enforced by an AI voice embedded in their consciousness. When a murder occurs, the islanders must solve the crime before their protective systems fail and the fog consumes them all. As time runs out, the story weaves a gripping tale of survival, community, and hidden truths in a world on the brink of oblivion.

The book's greatest strength, as with Turton's previous works, is its seamless blend of genres. He masterfully combines a classic locked-room mystery with a post-apocalyptic setting and speculative science fiction, creating something remarkably fresh. However, the book's ambitious scope, paired with its relatively short length, occasionally leads to superficial treatment of certain elements. This is particularly evident in the whodunit aspect—the numerous subplots make it challenging to remain invested in the murder mystery. Yet Turton's skilled world-building and talent for crafting intricate puzzles make the story captivating from beginning to end.

Pros: Inventive genre-blending, unique world-building, and an engrossing plot.

Cons: An underdeveloped whodunit element

The Body, Bill Bryson, 2008

Rating: 5/5

This is probably going to be my shortest book review ever! This book is simply a collection of facts, largely fun facts, about different parts of the body — the skin, hair, brain, head, the mouth, and so on. Bryson has achieved two remarkable things: (1) he has created a 400-page encyclopedia of the human body, and (2) he has made this the most fun-to-read encyclopedia ever.

Since there is nothing much to review really, here are my top 10 fun facts from the book.

(1) The human body is essentially a collection of inert elements — the same as in a pile of dirt.

(2) The Royal Society of Chemistry calculated that assembling actor Benedict Cumberbatch from his basic chemical components would cost £96,546.79.

(3) Race is merely a sliver of epidermis about a millimeter thick.

(4) If flattened out, our lungs would cover a tennis court; our blood vessels, if laid end to end, would wrap around Earth 2.5 times; and our DNA, if stretched out, would extend beyond Pluto.

(5) We grow 8 meters of hair in our lifetime.

(6) Visual inputs take one-fifth of a second to process, so the brain continuously forecasts what the world will look like a fifth of a second ahead — we spend our entire lives living in a world that doesn't quite exist yet.

(7) Volume doubles approximately every 6 decibels, meaning a 96-decibel sound isn't just slightly louder than a 90-decibel sound — it's twice as loud.

(8) Although everyone reads and pronounces the last blood group as the letter "O," Landsteiner (who discovered blood types) actually meant it to be zero, since this type showed no clumping reaction.

(9) During a single day of breathing, you likely inhale at least one molecule that was once exhaled by every person who has ever lived.

(10) While studying specimens, Henking noticed one chromosome that always remained separate from the others. He named it "X" simply because it was mysterious, not because of its shape.

Pros: Lots of interesting facts about the human body, comprehensive yet concise

Cons: It's just a collection of interesting facts about the human body!

The Three Body Problem, Cixin Liu, 2008

Rating: 4/5

This is my first experience reading a book after watching its adaptation. I thoroughly enjoyed the Netflix TV series (released in March 2024) and the motivation to read the book was to (hopefully) understand the characters and the nuances of the story better, things that an eight-episode show (that also has some elements from the subsequent books of the trilogy) may not do enough justice to. There were also a few unanswered questions for me at the end of the show — basically some plot elements that did not make much sense — and getting the answers to those would have been a bonus.

The Three-Body Problem is the first installment in a science fiction trilogy set in China, beginning during the Cultural Revolution. One of the key protagonists is Ye Wenjie, an astrophysicist who becomes entangled in a covert military project aimed at contacting extraterrestrial life. Her actions are driven by a line from Rachel Carson's "Silent Spring": "To achieve moral awakening required a force outside the human race." The novel delves into themes of human disillusionment, diverse responses to existential threats, scientific discovery, the potentially profound impact of humanity's first contact with an alien civilization, and ultimately, the resilience of our species.

The book combines a unique plot, fascinating storytelling, and rigorous scientific details with an underlying thought-provoking theme. Despite its scientific complexity, an in-depth understanding of the science isn't necessary to follow the plot—except for the part about sophons, which I think the Netflix show handled more simply and elegantly. However, the translation from the original Chinese didn't work well for me. The translator, Ken Liu (whose short story collection, "The Paper Menagerie & Other Stories", I found excellent) has expressed his view that the best translations into English shouldn't read as if they were originally written in English. He admits to adjusting some narrative techniques to ones more familiar to American readers while retaining the original flavor in other cases. As a result, I found the translation jarring at times.

Indeed, the book provides more depth to the characters and better explains their motivations compared to the TV show. However, I found the latter more accessible and engaging. As a result, I'm likely to prefer watching the adaptation over reading the next two books in the trilogy!

Pros: Inventive plot, thought-provoking theme

Cons: The translation