Imagine a surrealist painting in an apocalyptic landscape with bioengineered monsters. But that description does not do it justice. I am left with poignant images that have to be pieced together and ruminated on. Or I can stop trying to piece this narrative puzzle together and just accept the beautiful fragments as they are. The message of this novel is that the dread and violence at the end of the world will be searing but also there will be wonder and love.
This book reaffirmed my suspicion that I enjoy abstract unimaginable prose to direct linear storytelling. If that's not something you're in for, we'll unfortunately you've made it this far in the Borne series.
I would say Borne is great as a standalone and doesn't need any of the other two books. Strange Bird adds a heart breaking and beautiful layer of nuance to the world and makes for a great Duology. Dead Astronauts does for me what Strange Bird did, yet I really can relate to why there are so many that this book didn't click for. I've never read something that required so much heavy lifting to really integrate and engage with, and that's with reading all three books back to back in a short period of time. The effort was well rewarded in my opinion, but I feel compelled to warn potential readers that enjoyment feels predicated on …
This book reaffirmed my suspicion that I enjoy abstract unimaginable prose to direct linear storytelling. If that's not something you're in for, we'll unfortunately you've made it this far in the Borne series.
I would say Borne is great as a standalone and doesn't need any of the other two books. Strange Bird adds a heart breaking and beautiful layer of nuance to the world and makes for a great Duology. Dead Astronauts does for me what Strange Bird did, yet I really can relate to why there are so many that this book didn't click for. I've never read something that required so much heavy lifting to really integrate and engage with, and that's with reading all three books back to back in a short period of time. The effort was well rewarded in my opinion, but I feel compelled to warn potential readers that enjoyment feels predicated on a willingness to dive in deep. I feel like a re-read of the whole series is still in order to make all of the connections, and for many that's not a proposition of a good time.
This feels especially true since the books progress in weirdness more rapidly than Vandermeers other series. Area X feels like a traditional slow burn of escalation, Ambergris felt like steady ratcheting with a sharp descent near the end, and Borne starts weirder and quickly ramps up with each book.
Dead Astronauts was my first Jeff Vandermeer read. I'm not familiar with his style(s) of writing and haven't read the predecessor novel Borne.
This is experimental literature — a term I picked up from researching this book midway through reading it. I connected somewhat with the story but not the delivery. It's written in a poetic style that seems intended to paint a picture with phrases, fonts and literary devices rather than using prose to take the reader on a journey or to a conclusion.
So much attention was paid to the mood and styling of the book that it neglected to go places raised by the story itself. Three astronauts are time traveling (or skipping between universes) to fight the Company, which we later learn created all or part of them in some way. Are they alive? Are they dead? Are they existing outside of time? How do these …
Dead Astronauts was my first Jeff Vandermeer read. I'm not familiar with his style(s) of writing and haven't read the predecessor novel Borne.
This is experimental literature — a term I picked up from researching this book midway through reading it. I connected somewhat with the story but not the delivery. It's written in a poetic style that seems intended to paint a picture with phrases, fonts and literary devices rather than using prose to take the reader on a journey or to a conclusion.
So much attention was paid to the mood and styling of the book that it neglected to go places raised by the story itself. Three astronauts are time traveling (or skipping between universes) to fight the Company, which we later learn created all or part of them in some way. Are they alive? Are they dead? Are they existing outside of time? How do these various iterations of the same place connect with each other? What's this number sequence we see repeated through different storylines?
Raise existential questions and I can go off and think about those answers myself. But raise plot questions posed in the story itself and I'd appreciate answers. Otherwise, I'm left wondering why I should care.
My least favorite aspect of the book is the use of various devices to present the story. It's written as poetry in the form of a novel. Sentences. Don't flow. Normally. This made me pay more attention to the format rather than the content. And it has lots of "It's a book. Not a book." phrasing. Huh?
And the final few chapters include two or three sections that are nothing but the same few sentences repeated dozens or hundreds of times on the following pages. Maybe that's an effective technique to demonstrate how something begins to cycle until it becomes mechanical. But assuming the author wrote the book using a word processor, he likely wrote those first sentences and then copied and pasted to make the next several pages. If he's not going to take the time to write something, should I take the time to read it? Is the idea for me to simply skip through those pages after I "get it"?
There is a story here but it's not getting told. The author is instead trying to make it felt. Enthusiasts of poetry or experimental literature will likely appreciate this book far more than I did. I prefer a writing style that doesn't get in my way of comprehending the story.
