untitledlullaby's review against another edition
3.0
Okay first off I struggled with how to read this so I read SOT first and then the notes. SOT was okay in some parts pretentious poorly written and boring in most of it. If Straka existed he would be forgotten about. The notes were cute but confusing to me and I just didn’t like them that much. I’m excited to go back to normal reading now
aaron_j136's review against another edition
1.0
one of my lovely crusty highlighter friends from school : omg look at this book
me: omg lets get it
me, over a year later, completing this arduous, wild, shit storm of a book: omg why did I get that
1. story was boring and lowkey all over the place
2. the annotations were interesting at times but sometimes references to all these made up things were just loopy
3. no connection to any of the characters
me: omg lets get it
me, over a year later, completing this arduous, wild, shit storm of a book: omg why did I get that
1. story was boring and lowkey all over the place
2. the annotations were interesting at times but sometimes references to all these made up things were just loopy
3. no connection to any of the characters
ferris_mx's review against another edition
5.0
This was really interesting.
First, it is a beautiful creation. The book accurately creates a musty old 1940s book from the high school library. The margin writings are distinctive yet easily legible. The book has many various inserts that add to the story and are beautifully done.
The base novel is meh. That's the book's biggest weakness. It's somewhat improved if you consider it as a allegorical letter instead of a novel - somewhat. The footnotes and their associated codes are interesting and I plan to spend more time playing with them.
The story in the margins is more interesting. Much more interesting than could be conveyed by dialogue. The parallels between the relationship in the marginalia and the relationship in the text and footnotes is interesting.
In summary, a beautiful book and one I plan to purchase for myself. A very creative and ambitious undertaking.
First, it is a beautiful creation. The book accurately creates a musty old 1940s book from the high school library. The margin writings are distinctive yet easily legible. The book has many various inserts that add to the story and are beautifully done.
The base novel is meh. That's the book's biggest weakness. It's somewhat improved if you consider it as a allegorical letter instead of a novel - somewhat. The footnotes and their associated codes are interesting and I plan to spend more time playing with them.
The story in the margins is more interesting. Much more interesting than could be conveyed by dialogue. The parallels between the relationship in the marginalia and the relationship in the text and footnotes is interesting.
In summary, a beautiful book and one I plan to purchase for myself. A very creative and ambitious undertaking.
jonwesleyhuff's review against another edition
3.0
I had a lot of fun reading S. It was an incredibly enjoyable experience. I'm not sure the actual story parts were anything amazing, but I thought the interplay between the story and the story in the margins was well done. It was certainly more than just a cheap gimmick, I thought, in the end.
wanderaven's review against another edition
4.0
More than twenty years ago, I loved the Griffin and Sabine series. I owned all the books and regularly re-read them for the pleasure of the envelopes and letters contained within.
So for me, it's impossible to experience a book like S. by J.J. Abrams (contained within is Ship of Theseus) without reminiscing about Griffin and Sabine. While that series will certainly always hold a bright spot in my readerly memories, the modern interpretation of an interactive book like that, S./Ship of Theseus is much more sophisticated and technically advanced. While the letters in Griffin and Sabine were a marvel for their time, if you found one just lying around somewhere, even back then, you would quickly be able to determine that it was from something like those books. The range of the printing and quality of the "authentic" letters was limited and easily spotted. Although some wear and tear to the ephemera contained within Ship of Theseus would even better serve the effect, if you found a letter from this book just lying on a sidewalk somewhere, you would very easily perceive it as being a real letter written from one person to another. The effect isn't complete, but it's damn close to being there.
If you haven't heard of this novel, it's not too surprising. If you have, it's probably due to the connection to J.J. Abrams. I've never watched Lost, though I might some day. And to be honest, his oeuvre just hasn't really been on my radar. Basically, I was vaguely aware of him. Which means that when I saw this book (contained within the slipcase of S.) at the bookstore, I bought it completely on impulse, unable to see what was inside the sealed slipcase, but sensing it was something special. I'm typically aware of books often for months before they are released. But had I not stumbled over this one in the bookstore and/or heard subsequent pieces on a couple of NPR programs about it, I'm not sure I would have ever known of it. It's an investment, and it's unlikely to be at your public library. The letters and postcards, yellowed obituary, and map sketched on a very authentic feeling cafe napkin, were difficult for me to contain while I was reading it; stocked in a library, this book would be stripped of its extras in very short order.
Abrams didn't actually write the book. Abrams is said to have conceived of the idea when he saw a battered paperback novel sitting on a bench in an airport (pre-2001), and began developing the idea of such a book as a communication between two people. The actual writing and execution of the book was turned over to Doug Dorst. The presentation of this project is so very well done that it had to have been damn expensive to produce and I cannot help but speculate if it would have ever been completed had it not been connected to Abrams.
Ship of Theseus is a novel written by V.M. Straka in the early 20th century. S. is the marginalia within the book, the contemporary story of an exiled graduate student and an undergraduate using the book to discuss with one another their theories about the mysterious Straka. They write back and forth to each other, and the reader can distinguish between the two characters by handwriting and then between the different times they wrote in the book by ink color and content.
I spent the majority of the book judging whether, if stripped of all the extra physical things, the contemporary story could hold up. For a long time, I thought it could but near the end, I'd definitely changed my mind. This isn't a bad thing; just that if you get ahold of an not-intact copy of the book, you would easily be deprived of some elements. I was also quick to have an early judgement that one or both of the story lines could be lacking due to the novelty of the presentation and also due to the potential desire to appeal to a wide audience.
My final judgement is mixed. Ship of Theseus held more meatiness than I expected (let's just say that if you were squeamish about the button eyes in Coraline, you'll have problems here, too). It was the storyline that actually better held my attention, which I hadn't expected. S. was also more layered (multiple theories and overlapping timelines) than I anticipated. Unfortunately, this element was an unexpected drawback for me. I'm not sure whether the months that it took me to complete this book (primarily due to other commitments, not the book itself) were detrimental to my reading of S., but I became confused and lost the threads about the different theories concerning Straka. If the code-breaker contained within the book was supposed to be utilized, I certainly never figured it out. I also felt that the danger the characters were supposed to be in fell utterly flat.
In rating the book on a five-star system, it's best broken down by its three parts:
Ship of Theseus: 4 stars
S.: 3 stars
Presentation of the physical whole: 5 stars
In all, I loved this experience. When I first brought the book home and my boyfriend saw it, he exclaimed that it reminded him so much of books he read growing up, of library books back in the 1970s (it even has a real dewey-decimal sticker on the spine, which grew progressively ragged as I dragged it around). Whenever he saw me reading it, he would notice the bits and pieces and ask, "Is this really from the book?" The effect is startling and sensual.
So for me, it's impossible to experience a book like S. by J.J. Abrams (contained within is Ship of Theseus) without reminiscing about Griffin and Sabine. While that series will certainly always hold a bright spot in my readerly memories, the modern interpretation of an interactive book like that, S./Ship of Theseus is much more sophisticated and technically advanced. While the letters in Griffin and Sabine were a marvel for their time, if you found one just lying around somewhere, even back then, you would quickly be able to determine that it was from something like those books. The range of the printing and quality of the "authentic" letters was limited and easily spotted. Although some wear and tear to the ephemera contained within Ship of Theseus would even better serve the effect, if you found a letter from this book just lying on a sidewalk somewhere, you would very easily perceive it as being a real letter written from one person to another. The effect isn't complete, but it's damn close to being there.
If you haven't heard of this novel, it's not too surprising. If you have, it's probably due to the connection to J.J. Abrams. I've never watched Lost, though I might some day. And to be honest, his oeuvre just hasn't really been on my radar. Basically, I was vaguely aware of him. Which means that when I saw this book (contained within the slipcase of S.) at the bookstore, I bought it completely on impulse, unable to see what was inside the sealed slipcase, but sensing it was something special. I'm typically aware of books often for months before they are released. But had I not stumbled over this one in the bookstore and/or heard subsequent pieces on a couple of NPR programs about it, I'm not sure I would have ever known of it. It's an investment, and it's unlikely to be at your public library. The letters and postcards, yellowed obituary, and map sketched on a very authentic feeling cafe napkin, were difficult for me to contain while I was reading it; stocked in a library, this book would be stripped of its extras in very short order.
Abrams didn't actually write the book. Abrams is said to have conceived of the idea when he saw a battered paperback novel sitting on a bench in an airport (pre-2001), and began developing the idea of such a book as a communication between two people. The actual writing and execution of the book was turned over to Doug Dorst. The presentation of this project is so very well done that it had to have been damn expensive to produce and I cannot help but speculate if it would have ever been completed had it not been connected to Abrams.
Ship of Theseus is a novel written by V.M. Straka in the early 20th century. S. is the marginalia within the book, the contemporary story of an exiled graduate student and an undergraduate using the book to discuss with one another their theories about the mysterious Straka. They write back and forth to each other, and the reader can distinguish between the two characters by handwriting and then between the different times they wrote in the book by ink color and content.
I spent the majority of the book judging whether, if stripped of all the extra physical things, the contemporary story could hold up. For a long time, I thought it could but near the end, I'd definitely changed my mind. This isn't a bad thing; just that if you get ahold of an not-intact copy of the book, you would easily be deprived of some elements. I was also quick to have an early judgement that one or both of the story lines could be lacking due to the novelty of the presentation and also due to the potential desire to appeal to a wide audience.
My final judgement is mixed. Ship of Theseus held more meatiness than I expected (let's just say that if you were squeamish about the button eyes in Coraline, you'll have problems here, too). It was the storyline that actually better held my attention, which I hadn't expected. S. was also more layered (multiple theories and overlapping timelines) than I anticipated. Unfortunately, this element was an unexpected drawback for me. I'm not sure whether the months that it took me to complete this book (primarily due to other commitments, not the book itself) were detrimental to my reading of S., but I became confused and lost the threads about the different theories concerning Straka. If the code-breaker contained within the book was supposed to be utilized, I certainly never figured it out. I also felt that the danger the characters were supposed to be in fell utterly flat.
In rating the book on a five-star system, it's best broken down by its three parts:
Ship of Theseus: 4 stars
S.: 3 stars
Presentation of the physical whole: 5 stars
In all, I loved this experience. When I first brought the book home and my boyfriend saw it, he exclaimed that it reminded him so much of books he read growing up, of library books back in the 1970s (it even has a real dewey-decimal sticker on the spine, which grew progressively ragged as I dragged it around). Whenever he saw me reading it, he would notice the bits and pieces and ask, "Is this really from the book?" The effect is startling and sensual.
wanderaven's review against another edition
4.0
More than twenty years ago, I loved the Griffin and Sabine series. I owned all the books and regularly re-read them for the pleasure of the envelopes and letters contained within.
So for me, it's impossible to experience a book like S. by J.J. Abrams (contained within is Ship of Theseus) without reminiscing about Griffin and Sabine. While that series will certainly always hold a bright spot in my readerly memories, the modern interpretation of an interactive book like that, S./Ship of Theseus is much more sophisticated and technically advanced. While the letters in Griffin and Sabine were a marvel for their time, if you found one just lying around somewhere, even back then, you would quickly be able to determine that it was from something like those books. The range of the printing and quality of the "authentic" letters was limited and easily spotted. Although some wear and tear to the ephemera contained within Ship of Theseus would even better serve the effect, if you found a letter from this book just lying on a sidewalk somewhere, you would very easily perceive it as being a real letter written from one person to another. The effect isn't complete, but it's damn close to being there.
If you haven't heard of this novel, it's not too surprising. If you have, it's probably due to the connection to J.J. Abrams. I've never watched Lost, though I might some day. And to be honest, his oeuvre just hasn't really been on my radar. Basically, I was vaguely aware of him. Which means that when I saw this book (contained within the slipcase of S.) at the bookstore, I bought it completely on impulse, unable to see what was inside the sealed slipcase, but sensing it was something special. I'm typically aware of books often for months before they are released. But had I not stumbled over this one in the bookstore and/or heard subsequent pieces on a couple of NPR programs about it, I'm not sure I would have ever known of it. It's an investment, and it's unlikely to be at your public library. The letters and postcards, yellowed obituary, and map sketched on a very authentic feeling cafe napkin, were difficult for me to contain while I was reading it; stocked in a library, this book would be stripped of its extras in very short order.
Abrams didn't actually write the book. Abrams is said to have conceived of the idea when he saw a battered paperback novel sitting on a bench in an airport (pre-2001), and began developing the idea of such a book as a communication between two people. The actual writing and execution of the book was turned over to Doug Dorst. The presentation of this project is so very well done that it had to have been damn expensive to produce and I cannot help but speculate if it would have ever been completed had it not been connected to Abrams.
Ship of Theseus is a novel written by V.M. Straka in the early 20th century. S. is the marginalia within the book, the contemporary story of an exiled graduate student and an undergraduate using the book to discuss with one another their theories about the mysterious Straka. They write back and forth to each other, and the reader can distinguish between the two characters by handwriting and then between the different times they wrote in the book by ink color and content.
I spent the majority of the book judging whether, if stripped of all the extra physical things, the contemporary story could hold up. For a long time, I thought it could but near the end, I'd definitely changed my mind. This isn't a bad thing; just that if you get ahold of an not-intact copy of the book, you would easily be deprived of some elements. I was also quick to have an early judgement that one or both of the story lines could be lacking due to the novelty of the presentation and also due to the potential desire to appeal to a wide audience.
My final judgement is mixed. Ship of Theseus held more meatiness than I expected (let's just say that if you were squeamish about the button eyes in Coraline, you'll have problems here, too). It was the storyline that actually better held my attention, which I hadn't expected. S. was also more layered (multiple theories and overlapping timelines) than I anticipated. Unfortunately, this element was an unexpected drawback for me. I'm not sure whether the months that it took me to complete this book (primarily due to other commitments, not the book itself) were detrimental to my reading of S., but I became confused and lost the threads about the different theories concerning Straka. If the code-breaker contained within the book was supposed to be utilized, I certainly never figured it out. I also felt that the danger the characters were supposed to be in fell utterly flat.
In rating the book on a five-star system, it's best broken down by its three parts:
Ship of Theseus: 4 stars
S.: 3 stars
Presentation of the physical whole: 5 stars
In all, I loved this experience. When I first brought the book home and my boyfriend saw it, he exclaimed that it reminded him so much of books he read growing up, of library books back in the 1970s (it even has a real dewey-decimal sticker on the spine, which grew progressively ragged as I dragged it around). Whenever he saw me reading it, he would notice the bits and pieces and ask, "Is this really from the book?" The effect is startling and sensual.
So for me, it's impossible to experience a book like S. by J.J. Abrams (contained within is Ship of Theseus) without reminiscing about Griffin and Sabine. While that series will certainly always hold a bright spot in my readerly memories, the modern interpretation of an interactive book like that, S./Ship of Theseus is much more sophisticated and technically advanced. While the letters in Griffin and Sabine were a marvel for their time, if you found one just lying around somewhere, even back then, you would quickly be able to determine that it was from something like those books. The range of the printing and quality of the "authentic" letters was limited and easily spotted. Although some wear and tear to the ephemera contained within Ship of Theseus would even better serve the effect, if you found a letter from this book just lying on a sidewalk somewhere, you would very easily perceive it as being a real letter written from one person to another. The effect isn't complete, but it's damn close to being there.
If you haven't heard of this novel, it's not too surprising. If you have, it's probably due to the connection to J.J. Abrams. I've never watched Lost, though I might some day. And to be honest, his oeuvre just hasn't really been on my radar. Basically, I was vaguely aware of him. Which means that when I saw this book (contained within the slipcase of S.) at the bookstore, I bought it completely on impulse, unable to see what was inside the sealed slipcase, but sensing it was something special. I'm typically aware of books often for months before they are released. But had I not stumbled over this one in the bookstore and/or heard subsequent pieces on a couple of NPR programs about it, I'm not sure I would have ever known of it. It's an investment, and it's unlikely to be at your public library. The letters and postcards, yellowed obituary, and map sketched on a very authentic feeling cafe napkin, were difficult for me to contain while I was reading it; stocked in a library, this book would be stripped of its extras in very short order.
Abrams didn't actually write the book. Abrams is said to have conceived of the idea when he saw a battered paperback novel sitting on a bench in an airport (pre-2001), and began developing the idea of such a book as a communication between two people. The actual writing and execution of the book was turned over to Doug Dorst. The presentation of this project is so very well done that it had to have been damn expensive to produce and I cannot help but speculate if it would have ever been completed had it not been connected to Abrams.
Ship of Theseus is a novel written by V.M. Straka in the early 20th century. S. is the marginalia within the book, the contemporary story of an exiled graduate student and an undergraduate using the book to discuss with one another their theories about the mysterious Straka. They write back and forth to each other, and the reader can distinguish between the two characters by handwriting and then between the different times they wrote in the book by ink color and content.
I spent the majority of the book judging whether, if stripped of all the extra physical things, the contemporary story could hold up. For a long time, I thought it could but near the end, I'd definitely changed my mind. This isn't a bad thing; just that if you get ahold of an not-intact copy of the book, you would easily be deprived of some elements. I was also quick to have an early judgement that one or both of the story lines could be lacking due to the novelty of the presentation and also due to the potential desire to appeal to a wide audience.
My final judgement is mixed. Ship of Theseus held more meatiness than I expected (let's just say that if you were squeamish about the button eyes in Coraline, you'll have problems here, too). It was the storyline that actually better held my attention, which I hadn't expected. S. was also more layered (multiple theories and overlapping timelines) than I anticipated. Unfortunately, this element was an unexpected drawback for me. I'm not sure whether the months that it took me to complete this book (primarily due to other commitments, not the book itself) were detrimental to my reading of S., but I became confused and lost the threads about the different theories concerning Straka. If the code-breaker contained within the book was supposed to be utilized, I certainly never figured it out. I also felt that the danger the characters were supposed to be in fell utterly flat.
In rating the book on a five-star system, it's best broken down by its three parts:
Ship of Theseus: 4 stars
S.: 3 stars
Presentation of the physical whole: 5 stars
In all, I loved this experience. When I first brought the book home and my boyfriend saw it, he exclaimed that it reminded him so much of books he read growing up, of library books back in the 1970s (it even has a real dewey-decimal sticker on the spine, which grew progressively ragged as I dragged it around). Whenever he saw me reading it, he would notice the bits and pieces and ask, "Is this really from the book?" The effect is startling and sensual.
katekate_reads_'s review against another edition
3.0
This is a really hard book for me to rate. 5 Stars for concept and execution - old book smell, margin notes really look handwritten, love the inserts - really feels and looks like a drawn on napkin, etc. etc.
4 Stars for margin story of Jen and Eric - loved reading it and loved how it was done and time was conveyed with different pen choices
2 Stars for Ship of Theseus - I just couldn't get into it and felt like it was just going around and around and around. I didn't even read the last few chapters of this part.
4 Stars for margin story of Jen and Eric - loved reading it and loved how it was done and time was conveyed with different pen choices
2 Stars for Ship of Theseus - I just couldn't get into it and felt like it was just going around and around and around. I didn't even read the last few chapters of this part.
amyfilmer's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
emotional
funny
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
jessreadsbooks_'s review against another edition
adventurous
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
tishreads's review against another edition
4.0
To be honest, I think I liked the concept of this book more than the actual story. The ending left something to be desired, though I understand the idea and motivation behind it.
The book's distressed look and feel, coupled with the "old book" smell made it a delight to read through. It reminded me of why books are so sacred to me. Now I want to go to an old book store and get lost among the shelves.
The book's distressed look and feel, coupled with the "old book" smell made it a delight to read through. It reminded me of why books are so sacred to me. Now I want to go to an old book store and get lost among the shelves.