Recent Reads #37 | Internet novels & plotless beauty

Book ratings in this “Recent Reads” episode come with a clear philosophy: enjoyment and craft assessments are treated as personal, not as a verdict on a book’s inherent worth. That framing sets up a run of sharply opinionated reactions—ranging from lyrical refugee fiction to internet-satire form experiments—where the value of each novel is measured less by universal “goodness” and more by how it landed emotionally and artistically.

The first major standout is “What Strange Paradise” by Amar El Akkad, structured across two timelines and two young lives: Vonna, a teen on a tourist island, and Ammar, a Syrian refugee boy whose ship survives a storm and who washes ashore. The praise centers on prose that feels both evocative and hyper-real about war, plus characters that operate like embodiments of ideas without turning into cardboard. The novel’s blend of lyrical impressionism with stark realism is explicitly compared to Mohsin Hamid’s “Exit West,” not because the themes match, but because the stylistic balance does.

Shelley Parker-Chan’s “She Who Became the Sun” shifts the focus to 14th-century China and a peasant girl, You, who inherits her dead brother’s identity and fate by joining a monastery. The strongest moments are internal: You’s interiority and emotional conflict. The book weakens, in this reader’s view, when the narrative leans harder into external action and war, pulling attention away from the character’s inner development. There’s also a wish for more romance development—especially given the novel’s disguised-identity, gendered tension setup.

Ali Smith’s “Summer,” the final installment of the “Seasons Quartet,” is described as airy and philosophically bright, with the series’ habit of rooting itself in current events—this time including references to the 2020 pandemic. Still, it lands as the weakest of the quartet for two reasons: the interpersonal situation is least compelling, and the writing is less experimental than earlier books. The ranking that follows—“Winter” first, then “Autumn,” then “Spring,” then “Summer”—signals where the series’ formal play felt most alive.

Science fiction and form become the next battleground. “This Is How You Lose the Time War” by Amal El-Motar and Max Gladstone delivers a romance built from time agents exchanging messages across a conflict between Red (a post-singularity technotopia) and Blue (a single vast consciousness embedded in organic matter). The concept is called “pure genius,” and the world is praised for tactile originality and detail. Yet the reader struggles with mechanics and stakes: why the war requires mutual destruction when timelines can coexist, and how time travel functions. The romance is also seen as slightly over-weighted compared with the world-building.

Other reactions broaden the range. “The Idiot” by Elif Batuman is praised for capturing mid-90s Harvard life as a year of questions rather than conclusions, with small moments feeling meaningful and people feeling hyper-specific. “No One Is Talking About This” by Patricia Lockwood is split: the internet-mirroring first part is brilliant at recreating the absurdity of being online but doesn’t progress emotionally, while the second part hits hard, including a content warning for abortion access-related tragedy.

The episode closes with quieter, character-centered works (“Ghost Forest” by Pik Shweng Fung, “The Most Precious Substance on Earth” by Shashi Bhat) and one disappointment (“Rest and Be Thankful” by Emma Glass), where intense pediatric-hospital labor sometimes feels like intensity without enough emotional payoff. Across the list, the throughline is how form, interiority, and emotional pacing determine whether a book feels alive on the page—regardless of any universal ranking of “best.”