ase: Book icon (Books)
Half a Crown (Jo Walton / [community profile] papersky): Third in the series. I... don't have a lot to say about this. British democracy is sort of saved from fascism by British debutante traditions? Maybe? I lost my focus somewhere in there, and can't see what the heck Walton was trying to do. I find myself engaged by the characters even while I want to beat them with their own flimsy assumptions - really, Carmichael, what made you think Elvira was anything like safe, standing in your shadow? - and I was entertained in my puzzlement, but the fact that I'm reacting on an in-book character level and not intuitively feeling the themes* means I'm in no rush to reread. There is a sensibility here that I appreciate (most ironic sedar in 2008 fiction), but also an approach to genre and story-telling that isn't meshing with my approach to reading. Also, between this and Little Brother, I am done with based-on-Gitmo headgames in my fiction for a while.

*I'm finding Watsonian and not Doylist reasons, in other words.

Y: the Last Man: 8-10: Kimono Dragons, Motherland, Whys and Wherefores (Brian K. Vaughan, Pia Guerra): As previously mentioned, if you laid out a checklist of things I like in fiction, this hits pretty much every single one of them, right down to the bittersweet "sixty years later" epilogue. (Good news: humanity survives. Bad news: if you wait long enough, everyone dies.) [profile] charlie_ego and I had very different reactions to the McGuffin, because we approached it with different expectations, and if I were taking my time I would use this as an example of genre expectations and reader enjoyment, and will cheerfully expand if you give me an excuse.

Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies (Jared Diamond): Why did Europeans take over the world? Conversely, why did other aggregates of humanity not spread their influence across the globe? I think my comments to toraks pretty much sum my reaction: great idea, but so broad many details may be quibbled. I think it's important to remember that the book was published in 1997 and research keeps messing with Diamond's ideas. Corn dating, diseases we gave to cattle, other stuff I just haven't seen yet, but I'm sure is out there. Also, people other than me have complained they get bored with Diamond beating the reader over the head with his broad thesis (geography's influence on food production is the ultimate cause of The World As We Know It). I enjoyed seeing different examples of the same idea, but I can also see how other people might roll their eyes as he reiterates the Failure To Take Over The World checklist for the Americas, Africa, New Guinea, Australia, etc etc etc.So I think it's awesome, but I also think it should be read with a critical eye.

Uhura's Song (Janet Kagan): I mentioned to [personal profile] norabombay I was reading this, and she said, "oh, the proto-furry novel?" I think the original ST tie-in novels weren't as rigidly policed then as some franchises are now. Entertaining, but the most lightweight of fluff. )

I reread random parts of The Gate of Ivory (Doris Egan) because it's comfort reading. Lightweight, transparent prose, a sense of humor compatible with mine, a plot that doesn't challenge my attention span.
ase: Book icon (Books)
Three nonfiction, one reread (fiction). Victory to the nonfiction resolution.

Warrior Poet: A Biography of Audre Lorde (Alexis De Veaux): Nonfiction. Academic biography of a unique "black, lesbian, feminist, mother, poet warrior". Footnotes abound.

I love footnotes. )

This was long and dense, and I'm mostly disappointed that it pretty much skips life between 1986 and her death in 1992. Why?

Mirabile (Janet Kagan): Reread. Light, sweet and funny, with wacky SF biology and a grumbly old woman protagonist. Consistent worldbuilding across a series of short stories, tessellated into a novel with thin framing device grout. Strongly rec'd for charm.

I am in fierce denial that Kagan passed away on 1 March 2008, several weeks after this latest reread. I can't mourn the woman, having never met her, but it makes me sad that I'll never be able to say, "hey, I read your fiction, and it's cool." Kagan wrote exactly three books that I know of, and though they are cute and fluffy bordering on cotton candy overdose, you will have to pry those crumbling paperbacks from my hands against my most strident protests. I think that's a good eulogy for an author.

Greek Fire, Poison Arrows and Scorpion Bombs: Biological and Chemical Warfare in the Ancient World (Adrienne Mayor): Nonfiction, like the title says. Great idea, lousy execution. Mayor clumps her cites at the end of paragraphs or ideas. If you want to draw a line between "Arabic sources report[ing] great stocks of naptha were stored in Byzantine churches" during the Crusades and 2003 BS about Saddam Hussein sticking WMDs in Iraqi mosques, you have to work a lot harder than bare-faced assertions: I want to see a breakdown of the religious and political implications. Did political authorities or priests stick this naptha in churches? (see p137, HC) Was it even there, or were 11th - 13th century Arabs as gullible as contemporary Americans? Also, Richard Preston's thriller nonfiction fails as a good source to cite (p141 and elsewhere). This is a cute idea, but Mayor didn't pull together the primary sources to make this really amazing and cool. Mayor failed to go deep enough when drawing lines from the ancient to the contemporary; take the Archimedes mirror scheme compared to modern experiments with mircowave or heat devices. (For bonus points, note the criticism of same, p218 - 219. What does criticism of contemporary shenanigans have to do with ancient biological or chemical weapons?)

Some moments stood out: vinegar and fire; naptha as a concept, elepants scaring the dalights out of the uninitiated. Single best sentence in the book: The most famous example occurred in Britain in 55 BC, when the Britannis' chariot-horses fled at the sight of Julius Caesar's monstrous war elephant covered in iron scales and clanging bells emerging from a river with a tower of archers balanced on its back (p199).

Conclusion: this needed to be 50 pages shorter or 200 pages longer, in smaller print.

The Conscience of a Liberal (Paul Krugman): Nonfiction. Presents hypothesis that New Deal legislation flattened America's economic profile - the poor got less poor, the rich got less rich - that this was a good thing, and that the rich or super-rich have been in bed with a number of other unhappy splinter groups trying to undo this so they can be really really rich like the Good Old Days (19th C).

Brief suspension of the PG-13 rule for cursing and politics. Cut for length and tangents. )

There's some things Krugman does that are worth noting. He pulls together an argument that streches across nearly 80 years of American politics, and makes it sound reasonable. He left me with a lot of people and incidents to look up (what I forget is that the '95 federal shutdown could have affected me), which means he was engaging my intellect. However, this is also a weakness: he makes sweeping statements I would like to see followed up in greater detail. ("Veterans of the Environmental Protection Agency have told me that the Nixon years were a golden age." Could you support this statement with names, budget figures, Superfund rulings, please? p159) The fact I'm this het up about it says that Krugman is doing something interesting with ideas, though I'm annoyed he's written an idea book instead of an idea book underpinned with fact after fact after fact.
ase: Default icon (Default)
This very nearly wound up titled "Geniuses and Megalomania", because there seemed to be an awful lot of that this month, but the entry wound up bookended by lighter stuff. Thank goodness.

Monsoon Diary (Shoba Narayan): Autobiography about life as the bright daughter of a large South Indian family that loves food. Very lightweight, good bedtime reading - as long as you don't go to bed on an empty stomach. Food is a major focus of the book: common breakfasts, memorable feasts, a well-intentioned but fairly disastrous charity dinner; love expressed through lunches. The author includes recipes at chapter ends. It tempts me to cook, which I consider a good thing.

Cold Tom (Sally Prue): Tom of the Fae is - horrors - enslaved to humans by love. YA fluff with one interesting idea (love as a chain) and a whiff of Tam Lin. It suffers from the cuteness and over-tidiness seen in a lot of YA books - very small cast, who all wind up in close happy relationships - and the central theme's pretty standard YA stuff, but the perspective twist is kind of cool. Worth the dollar it cost at a library sale, but not necessarily worth the full price.

The Life of the World to Come (Kage Baker): Fifth novel in the Company series. (Finally!) It moves things along very nicely. Document D, Alec Checkerfield, time travel, weird and possibly metaphorical prophetic dreams. Things go boom! in bad ways, as they tend to around the botanist Mendoza.

For people unfamiliar with Kage Baker's novels: the Company series focuses on events in the lives of certain time traveling immortals who steal great cultural works and to-be-extinct species from their doomed fates and stash them in improbable places for the edification of future generations and profit of Dr. Zeus Inc., the company that created the immortals. Only there's a few hitches, like that distressing "things go boom! around Mendoza" pattern. Sometimes there are also little gray men. If someone wants to explain what was going on at the end of Graveyard Game (or send me a copy of the paperback), email or indicate spoiler-ness when commenting.

The style is fun, the plotting multi-novel, and attention to detail sometimes is really rewarding. Hooked? Find a copy of In the Garden of Eden and start catching up.

Do you know how hard it is to talk without spoiling left, right and center? )

Reread bits of Cyteen. It's a stress thing.

Watchmen (Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons): Notable '80s graphic novel, noted for being an "adult" comic back when they weren't so much. Edward Blake, ex-superhero, is killed. Those who try to find out why discover they've got a thread into a Gordian knot of trouble.

It's, um, well. Picking this up for some light bedtime reading was really a mistake. (I have this problem quite often when I'm trying to read comics. Which is probably why I don't read them much.) There's an awful lot of blood and violence, I can't think of a major protagonist I'd want to spend time with, the art does what it's supposed to, the blocking is striking, and the plot is fabulous. All the byzantine twisting of now, history, minor characters, world events, and even interesting use of the use/abuse of power theme. It's cool. It's intricate. It's just... did Moore really have to throw someone out a skyscraper on the first page?

So. Major points for fabulous plotting, but... don't read this if you're convinced the world's in bad shape.

A Beautiful Mind (Sylvia Nasar): I really liked it. )

I also reread Mirabile (Janet Kagan) in random chunks. Comfort reading, With silly puns, off-the-wall biology, and nice characterization. Everyone means well, and it generally works out.

My last-weekend-of-the-month binge was Hellspark (Janet Kagan). Mirabile is a short story collection, and Hellspark I believe a first novel, and I think the difference shows. In brief, Tocohol Susumo, a red-haired golden-eyed Hellspark trader with a Really Special extrapolative computer, is asked to solve a murder and a question of sentience. I'm glad I read this when I was younger and less jaded by fandom, because I would've tossed this as a Mary Sue-ish if I'd read it after reading all that bad fic. I would have missed a very entertaining story that's just a bit larger than life, in that nifty space opera way. My other quibble with the book is the way everyone's good intentions work out for the best, but after some of the other stuff I read this week I can't say that's a bad thing, in fiction.

In February I read an awful lot of the fiction on the weekends, when I slept late and failed to get anything done that I'd planned on. I can either blame this on a disinclination to get up when it's cold out (and the circulation in the house is terrible; the upstairs is always ten degrees warmer than the downstairs) or my disinclination to do my homework. One of these can be solved by a heater. The real problem probably can be solved by willpower, or going to the school library, out of reach of all that pesky fiction.
ase: Default icon (Default)
Cutting for size, not spoilers. Low on content, high on chatty commentary.

The title this month refers to one character's perception of the mystic and the mundane in Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars trilogy; it seemed appropriate, since it's been so snowy (and icy!) lately.

New icon courtesy Photoshop 7.0 and my Precious digital camera.

The Return of the King, J. R. R. Tolkien )

The Folk Keeper, Franny Billingsley )

Tolkien: Author of the Century, T. A. Shippey )

Star Wars: Survivor's Quest, Timothy Zahn )

The Changeling Sea, Patricia McKillip )

The Eyre Affair, Jasper Fforde )

Mirabile, Janet Kagan )

Profile

ase: Default icon (Default)
ase

June 2025

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011 121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
2930     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags