Wednesday, January 24, 2024

READ YUMI AND THE NIGHTMARE PAINTER

About 90 hours ago, my wife finished reading Yumi and the Nightmare Painter. I'd lost all contact with her late the day before.

She was definitely breathing, had a strong pulse, and responded (with monosyllabic noises) to prompts regarding food. She even gave our cats an answering pet or scritch when they inquisitively approached her with their demands for attention. But her focus was entirely sunk into the regular turning of the book's (admittedly gorgeous) pages.

THE PREAMBLE

I would have worried, but I knew her enough to understand that this was not actually a cause for alarm, and was in fact indicative that she was having a grand time. She'd backed Brandon Sanderson's Kickstarter project a year or three before, you see. She knew what she was getting herself into. Still, I was perhaps a bit concerned.

When she completed the book, her eyes shining with feelings, and handed the copy over to me, it was with a demand and a promise. A demand that I read it as soon as I was able to, and a promise that she, in turn, would read Fourth Wing, a book I'd been suggesting she read for months, as soon as it was no longer 'On Hold' at our local library. So about 72 hours ago when I started it myself, it was with full understanding that I really had little choice in the matter.

My wife had completed the book with a focus and determination inherent to her, in perhaps 8 hours of reading spread over an evening and the following morning. Her reading pace blows me away sometimes, and reflects her mind in ways I love.

I'm a slower reader; I generally read with the plodding determination of one who wants to give their brain time to voice each character, to pause and take in each scene, and to really savor the world the author has taken the time to craft. I finished the book about 24 hours ago, after probably 16 hours of reading spread over 2 days. I took breaks to cook, to work, and to regularly pause and predict what might be happening next, or behind the scenes. I make a hobby of predicting twists or calling out narrative devices I know will return with more significance. I'm pretty good at it, but I love it when I'm wrong.

If you're reading this, you have at least a passing familiarity with Brandon Sanderson. He's one of the most prominent sci-fi/fantasy writers of our time, particularly for the Stormlight Archive and the Mistborn series. He's also responsible for the last books of Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series, and a handful of other major series and projects besides. I refuse to believe that somebody would seek out a book review on my tiny geek blog without already possessing at least a passing familiarity with Sanderson, as an author in general and the author of this specific work - the Venn Diagrams for that potentiality simply don't line up. So I'll say no more of him, and will get to his book.


THE REVIEW

I hate spoilers, so I'm keeping this review somewhat light on actual content. If you read on you'll find generalities of the subject matter, mention on inspirations, and my thoughts and feelings on those things, but I won't go into specific revelations or dive too deep into any sequence of events.

Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is one of four books Sanderson released through a Kickstarter project in 2022. He'd already written four stories during Covid lockdown leading up to that Kickstarter, but wanted to do something special with their release. The book is simply gorgeous, from the embossed cover, to the creative use of color within the formatting of the text, to the artwork scattered throughout.

That artwork was done by Aliya Chen, by the way. I'm not familiar with her or her other work, but she did a great job of creating evocative art in a style that both fits the setting as described by the text, and that defines it. Her art makes the book's inspirations (Your Name, Hikaru no Go, etc) impossible to miss; I loved the way she drew Yumi's hair.

Yumi, one of the titular characters, lives her life according to traditions that dictate every step of that life. The Painter, the second titular character, lives his life in a fugue of depressive monotony, wishing for some higher calling.

As one can imagine from the book's title, they meet one another. This is perhaps the best time to mention that while Sanderson has written a number of books that involve character relationships, this is perhaps his only work to date that I would call a romance novel. This means that when the two protagonists meet, they do it cutely.

Both characters are prisoners to their own responsibilities, and both feel an inability to escape those prisons. Both are impossibly hard on themselves in a way that I found painfully relatable. In meeting one another, both characters learn to be kinder to themselves, to internalize the best qualities of the other, and to repair and redefine their own lives with that gained experience.

Sanderson is known for his world-building, and those fictional worlds are (in many cases) linked to one another within a greater shared universe he calls the Cosmere. Yumi and the Nightmare Painter is a part of that Cosmere, and written in such a way that it could serve as a fine "first step" into the worlds of the Cosmere for new readers.

On the other hand, there are also references within it that could be taken as spoilers for the Stormlight and Mistborn books particularly, so I'd say that while it could serve as a fine introduction, it's arguably a better read for existing fans.

The book is told from the perspective of Hoid, who appears throughout the Cosmere as a sort of pseudo-timelord (for Doctor Who fans) or perhaps a high-level bard (for D&D fans). Hoid is great, but his involvement as narrator means that there are comparisons to other Cosmere worlds throughout. Established fans of Sanderson will love it - and newcomers will definitely have unanswered questions driving them further down into the wonderful Cosmeric rabbit hole.

It's a great book. The characters develop beautifully, completing one another in a way that feels poetic and star-crossed. In knowing one another, they're able to see their own lives from another perspective, and gain a wisdom and strength neither knew they had. It has an ending I refuse to spoil.

Go read it. There's magic, science, flying plants, an unexpected coat rack, people that aren't people but are still clearly people, unanswered questions about the worlds of the Cosmere, soap operas, (low) language, and plenty of noodles.

I give it ten stacked rocks out of ten.

Monday, January 22, 2024

GARLICKY BALSAMIC SQUASH BAKE

This recipe grew out of a need for an easy, quick-prep vegetable dish I could throw together while gaming. I've always hated long recipe intros, so I won't put one here.


OVERVIEW

Prep - Quick, less than 10 minutes

Cook  - 50 minutes, stir at 30

Serves - 3-4 as a main dish 

You'll need - Squash, Garlic, Tomatoes, Beans, Parsley, Balsamic Vinegar, and basic pantry stuff



RECIPE 

Start off by preheating the oven to 350f (or 175c if you know what a Tory is).

While you're preheating, mince up 6 cloves of garlic, and toss them into a large mixing bowl with 3 tablespoons of olive oil, 3 more of balsamic vinegar, half a teaspoon of dried oregano, a healthy pinch of pepper flakes, a few good grinds of salt, and a few more of pepper. Mix that together with a fork or a fat spoon, whatever's handy.

Toss in about 2 cups of cherry tomatoes; you don't need to cut them up unless they're truly enormous. They'll break down in the oven and transform into tasty blobs of wonderful. You can use regular tomatoes if that's what you've got instead - just cut them into cherry-tomato-sized chunks. 

Next comes the zucchini, or yellow squash if that's what you have instead. They both cook and taste about the same, so don't pay too much attention to their color. Folks could learn a lot about racism from the humble squash. Whichever squash you're using, chop up 3-4 of them (about 5 cups) into cherry-tomato sized chunks.

The dish needs some protein, so you'll add beans for that. Add in one can of beans - you can use cannellini or great northern beans; if you don't have ether, chickpeas can work instead.

Mix that all together in the bowl with your balsamic mixture so it's all coated, then tip it into a deep (ideally Pyrex) baking dish - the sort of thing you'd use to cook a lasagna. If you've got a lid, you can do all of this ahead of time and stash it in the fridge for a day or so. If you don't have a lid you can do that anyway, but your kitchen life will taste of garlic.

Pop the dish into the oven when you're ready, and pull it out after about 50 minutes. You want the tomatoes to start collapsing in on themselves, mixing their acidity with the balsamic to break down the beans and squash. 

If you've got time, you can stir it up halfway through to ensure everything gets a chance to swim around in the bottom of the dish, but it isn't critical.

When you pull it out, top with some chopped parsley to taste if you've got it handy. Scoop into bowls and enjoy!


NOTES 

On the temperature. 375 works too, if you're trying to cook this together and match another dish at the same time; just shorten the cook time to about 25-30 minutes if you go that route. There's enough water in these veggies that they'll take a lot of abuse before they burn, but that also means you don't want to cook them alongside anything that should be crispy, or you'll steam out the other dish.

Add veggies. There's room in here for additional veggies - I might suggest some shredded kale, diced (small) shallot, or quartered button mushrooms. Spinache works too, though I would add it in the last 10 or 20 minutes, stirring it in.

Add beans. There's also room here for another can of beans, if you want to push the protein up a bit more and aren't "feeling fishy."

Feeling fishy? My wife isn't a fan of sardines so I cook this without them (as above). I love those fishy little fuckers though, so I tip a (drained) can into my own bowl and then serve this (still hot) right on top of them. Complements the Italian flavor profile wonderfully and turns the whole into a sort of fish and vegetable stew.


Friday, January 19, 2024

PLAY DREDGE

Dredge is a game that I'm late to the table for; it's a Lovecraftian Horror game disguised as a fishing game and it's caught my attention with a hook that won't let go. Your character is a faceless, nameless fisherperson, recently arrived in a region plagued by dismal attitudes and bizarre activities.


THE CAST 

Everybody seems to have something creepy or cryptic going on; the lighthouse keeper stares off into the distance and won't talk to you. The mayor mutters uncertainly about your predecessor, the previous fisherman. Dockworkers shift cautiously under your gaze, pocketing leaky packages and stalking off to places unknown. Folks are kind enough in an Innsmouth sort of way, but there's a palpable sense of wrongness that the game does little to disguise. In fact, it seems odd as you get your bearings within the game that you seem to be the only fisherman in a world that spans several small island villages. Why isn't anyone else out on the water?

Because (as you quickly learn) it isn't safe. It isn't sane. It isn't a smart place to be. The oceans of Dredge are scary places where your ship can easily fall prey to a variety of aquatic terrors that lurk in the darkness. Dredge does little to hold your hand as you seek out fish for the isolated villages of the game. 


THE REEL

The fishing mechanics themselves are pretty straightforward - different fish are caught differently, but they're all variations of a rhythm game. If you ignore the rhythm game, you'll catch the fish eventually, it will just take longer. The longer you're out fishing, the weirder things get. Regular fish each have rare, mutated variations - often with suppurating wounds, tumorous growths, disconcerting extra appendages, tentacles, or teeth - the sort of thing that might drive a fisherman mad. In fact, the longer you stay out at sea (you can only rest while docked somewhere safe) the more madness will creep into your mind and cause hallucinations. Those hallucinations will damage your boat, will try to eat you, will steal or infect your catch, and will generally make the game feel more like a survival-horror game and less like a cozy fishing game. 

Of course, Dredge is both. On the cozy side, you'll see scenic (unthreatening) wildlife during the day, meet interesting and varied people (women are well represented among the game's NPCs, and your protagonist is ripe for self-insert and mostly represented by a boat), and you'll gradually upgrade your ship (faster engines, more fishing tackle, more cargo space, etc) using materials you (you were waiting for it) dredge from the bottom of the seas.


THE BAIT

You'll also find a series of mysteries - creepy cultish characters that seem to subsist on fish hearts, odd stone tablets that hold treasures if you can find their piscine keys, as well as a handful of particularly rare fish, only found in a single location on each of the game's major islands. You can even customize your ship by grinding up rare crabs to make various paints and by collecting various flags from the deep.

My favorite thing about Dredge is the game's hyper-focus on exactly what it wants to be. It picks a handful of mechanics that work well together, and limits itself to that core gameplay loop. In a time when so many games try to be everything at once, Dredge stays fresh by staying true to itself. 

My biggest and really only gripe with the game is in balance. The game is most scary and most dangerous at the start, and everything you do from there, be it upgrading your boat or learning new cosmic powers, makes the game a bit easier. Eventually you're quick and rich enough to move through the game without too much fear, which is a hair disappointing. Even so, it's a fun road to get there, and makes completionist playthroughs more appealing.

The game oozes theme, so that whether you're visiting the tropical southern region, the tangled bayou of the northwest, or either of the other two major regions (I won't spoil everything here) it feels unified and connected. Each region has its own ecology as well, with a set of fish to catch and a unique predatory horror to avoid. Through it all, the slightly-off-putting animation style of the game carries it forward in a way that stands out and looks sharp, particularly as your grip on sanity starts to loosen in the late hours of the night. 

If you're looking for a somewhat relaxed, digestible fishing game that will still make you worry and hurry every once in a while, I'd recommend casting your net toward Dredge.

I give it 9 creepily mutated fish out of 10.