I like reading bad fantasy books. I enjoyed reading that Terry Goodkind books, with the speeches and the evil birds, because it was so laughably bad. So I started on one of the David Weber books, intending to experience the same sort of fun. But I couldn't get through the first few pages, because those first few pages were taken up with explaining how our heroine was overwhelmed by her emotions, as she had just rescued an entire prison planet and realized that the guy she worked with had a crush on her. Now, this would be all well and good to set up the plot, except that this wave of emotions was explained not as a human reaction, but as the byproduct of some sort of weird bond with her magic cat.
After that, I was done. I just can't get through a book that treats the emotions that any normal person (normal super-heroine?) would feel as if they are super-awesome telepathic magic skills that can only be obtained through talking to genetically manipulated animals in your head. I understand that these books are not aimed towards the same audience that reads, I don't know, Barbara Pym, but damn! How autistic can you be?
Wednesday, 26 November 2008
Thursday, 13 November 2008
"Her Majesty's Dragon," Naomi Novik
I am really ashamed to like this book because:
1. It has dragons in it
2. It's like Patrick O'Brian, but since dragons aren't real, I don't have to feel stupid for not knowing what the hell is going on in the fight scenes
3. I BELIEVE I AM A SPIRIT DRAGON
OK, I made the last part up. I'm really a spirit wolf.
1. It has dragons in it
2. It's like Patrick O'Brian, but since dragons aren't real, I don't have to feel stupid for not knowing what the hell is going on in the fight scenes
3. I BELIEVE I AM A SPIRIT DRAGON
OK, I made the last part up. I'm really a spirit wolf.
"The Privilege of the Sword," Ellen Kushner
A sequel to "Swordspoint" - Alec Tremontaine, the mad student, has grown up into the Mad Duke of Riverside and sends for his teenaged niece, Katherine, to make her into a swordswoman. Katherine gets involved in various intrigues and duels.
Katherine is a great heroine - unlike your typical fantasy heroine, she doesn't particularly want to pursue masculine interests at the beginning of the novel, yet she comes to appreciate the new freedom and power that her knowledge of the sword gives her. Also, the characters are allowed the loose sexual definitions of the first book, which makes for a nice, angst-free atmosphere (at least on that point - I remember reading Mercedes Lackey novels in which it seemed as if everyone was quite tolerant of whatever sexuality you were, until it became convenient for the plot for someone to pop up and start bothering the poor protagonist so they could be very sad and attempt to off themselves. Why are fantasy protagonists always so oppressed in such teenage ways? I mean, durr, the audience and all, but still.)
The one thing that bothered me was the re-use of Richard St. Vier and Alec - they're such outsize characters that I really just wanted to leave them be after "Swordspoint." While Alec's character development makes sense, he's still not as much glorious fun as his younger (older?) version. St. Vier becomes a sort of bland mentor figure, which also makes sense due to his part in the plot, but come on, where's the St. Vier who would take the life from every inch of a man's body? Alas.
Katherine is a great heroine - unlike your typical fantasy heroine, she doesn't particularly want to pursue masculine interests at the beginning of the novel, yet she comes to appreciate the new freedom and power that her knowledge of the sword gives her. Also, the characters are allowed the loose sexual definitions of the first book, which makes for a nice, angst-free atmosphere (at least on that point - I remember reading Mercedes Lackey novels in which it seemed as if everyone was quite tolerant of whatever sexuality you were, until it became convenient for the plot for someone to pop up and start bothering the poor protagonist so they could be very sad and attempt to off themselves. Why are fantasy protagonists always so oppressed in such teenage ways? I mean, durr, the audience and all, but still.)
The one thing that bothered me was the re-use of Richard St. Vier and Alec - they're such outsize characters that I really just wanted to leave them be after "Swordspoint." While Alec's character development makes sense, he's still not as much glorious fun as his younger (older?) version. St. Vier becomes a sort of bland mentor figure, which also makes sense due to his part in the plot, but come on, where's the St. Vier who would take the life from every inch of a man's body? Alas.
Friday, 7 November 2008
"Under the Banner of Heaven," Jon Krakauer
The story of the horrific murder of a mother and child in a small Utah town in the 1980s, all set against the broad sweep of Mormon history."Into Thin Air" and "Into the Wild" use smaller, related stories to back up the main narrative, but in "Under the Banner" there are really two main stories vying for attention - one a history of the foundations of the Mormon Church, and one the story of the Lafferty murders. Krakauer tries to tie the two together, but it doesn't quite work. It's unclear how exactly the violent nature of the early Mormon years spurred the Lafferty brothers' murder of their sister-in-law and niece. Structured the murders, yes - people raised in a religious tradition that encourages revelation certainly might frame a deed like that as an instruction from God. However, it seems more like Dan Lafferty was upset that his wife had left him, and decided to wreak his revenge against the person he held responsible in the most violent fashion he knew - a scenario that's certainly not unique to Mormons. (Krakauer includes horrific tales of polygamy and incest among fundamentalist Mormons, but the Laffertys' lifestyle smacks more of drifters bouncing from "wife" to "wife" than the extremely close-knit communities with so many warped branches in their family trees. They might have wanted to be fundies, but they didn't have the social capital to join the club.)
Because of this split, "Under" is like reading a true crime story and a history book rolled into one, and it just doesn't quite come off. (Krakauer admits that he first intended the book to be a straight meditiation on the nature of Mormonism in the afterword. He doesn't reveal what spurred him to add the true crime angle.) I do feel like I know a little more about the Mormon Church now (although a thorough reading of "Lies My Teachers Told Me" had already given me the dirt on the Mountain Meadows Massacre).
Because of this split, "Under" is like reading a true crime story and a history book rolled into one, and it just doesn't quite come off. (Krakauer admits that he first intended the book to be a straight meditiation on the nature of Mormonism in the afterword. He doesn't reveal what spurred him to add the true crime angle.) I do feel like I know a little more about the Mormon Church now (although a thorough reading of "Lies My Teachers Told Me" had already given me the dirt on the Mountain Meadows Massacre).
"The Turkish Gambit," Boris Akunin
The second Akunin I've read, and not as enjoyable as "Winter Queen," mainly because Fandorin is off-screen (off-page?) for most of the narrative. Instead, everything is seen through the eyes of Varya, who turns out not to be the burning revolutionary I expected her to be but more of a well-intentioned flirt who has bumbled her way into a Russian army camp in search of her boyfriend. So while Varya is wondering which handsome soldier is attempting to win her heart, I'm wondering what exactly Fandorin is up to and what exactly the mystery is. Perhaps if I knew more about the 19th century conflicts between Turkey and Russia, I could imagine the dashing officers and courageous war correspondents in more detail, and fall in love along with Varya, but since I don't it's all a bunch of names that Fandorin strings together so that he can make a big "I have solved everything!" speech at the end. Perhaps I'm just not interested in war fiction pastiche? "Murder on the Leviathan" is next, regardless.
Monday, 3 November 2008
"Benighted," Kit Whitfield
I am a faithful reader of Kit Whitfield's blog, and actually gave a copy of this book to a friend under its British title as I thought she'd have a laugh if not enjoy the book itself (the British title is "Bareback" - immature of me, I know). So I was devoutly hoping that when I read the book itself, it wouldn't be horrifically bad and I would still be able to read the blog.
I wasn't disappointed - "Benighted" is actual dark fantasy. Not dark as in "wow, sometimes a main character dies and also there is titillating rape," more like dark as in there is no automatic perfect happy ending. The protagonist, Lola, lives in a world in which it's normal to be a werewolf. She is one of the few people who doesn't transform each month under the full moon, and is therefore condemned to an untouchable existence as part of a government organization that rounds up misbehaving "lunes" during that time of the month. Lola is a sort of public defender for these miscreants, who are tried in a special court descended from the Inquisitors. It's a traditional crime/romance story (girl solves mystery, girl meets unsuitable boy, gritty things occur) but thankfully Lola isn't a "special girl" in any way - she behaves like an unhappy woman. Which is understandable, as "barebacks" are really, really limited in their opportunities. In fact, aside from a bit of overwriting, my one big problem with the book is that it's revealed that Lola has a "big secret" of a kind near the end - this is supposedly the reason she's depressed - as if being cut off from her family and their comfortable lifestyle, undergoing a childhood of continual abuse, and being stuck in a life-endangering job isn't enough!
I wasn't disappointed - "Benighted" is actual dark fantasy. Not dark as in "wow, sometimes a main character dies and also there is titillating rape," more like dark as in there is no automatic perfect happy ending. The protagonist, Lola, lives in a world in which it's normal to be a werewolf. She is one of the few people who doesn't transform each month under the full moon, and is therefore condemned to an untouchable existence as part of a government organization that rounds up misbehaving "lunes" during that time of the month. Lola is a sort of public defender for these miscreants, who are tried in a special court descended from the Inquisitors. It's a traditional crime/romance story (girl solves mystery, girl meets unsuitable boy, gritty things occur) but thankfully Lola isn't a "special girl" in any way - she behaves like an unhappy woman. Which is understandable, as "barebacks" are really, really limited in their opportunities. In fact, aside from a bit of overwriting, my one big problem with the book is that it's revealed that Lola has a "big secret" of a kind near the end - this is supposedly the reason she's depressed - as if being cut off from her family and their comfortable lifestyle, undergoing a childhood of continual abuse, and being stuck in a life-endangering job isn't enough!
"Into Thin Air," Jon Krakauer
Krakauer's account of his part in the ill-fated 1996 Mount Everest expedition. He went as part of a commercial expedition - "you, too, can climb Mount Everest!" His group got to the top - however, not everybody made it back down.
Krakauer seems to have carefully pieced together what actually happened and doesn't gloss over his part in the tragedy. However, there are conflicting accounts - Krakauer and guide Anatoli Boukreev were in disagreement over the suitability of Boukreev's conduct on the mountain (the conflict was never resolved, as Boukreev died attempting to climb Annapurna). I'll have to pick up "The Climb," Boukreev's co-authored book, and see what he had to say on the subject. If there's one thing that's not in doubt it's the sheer insanity of trying to haul yourself up the side of a mountain to what is approximately the cruising height of an airplane.
Krakauer seems to have carefully pieced together what actually happened and doesn't gloss over his part in the tragedy. However, there are conflicting accounts - Krakauer and guide Anatoli Boukreev were in disagreement over the suitability of Boukreev's conduct on the mountain (the conflict was never resolved, as Boukreev died attempting to climb Annapurna). I'll have to pick up "The Climb," Boukreev's co-authored book, and see what he had to say on the subject. If there's one thing that's not in doubt it's the sheer insanity of trying to haul yourself up the side of a mountain to what is approximately the cruising height of an airplane.
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