marramgrass

I was just pootling around on the web, as you do – you know, following random links and ending up in random places – when I discovered that Robert Jordan died last weekend.

For a few years now I’ve been reading and re-reading his Wheel Of Time series of novels. They’ve caught a lot of criticism for losing focus a little, but I’ve mostly enjoyed them.

Jordan had been ill for a year and a half or so, and was quite frank on his blog about the illness. Unfortunately it beat him.

It’s a shame that he died just as he was working on the last book (volume twelve) of his epic series, having put so many years into it. I hope he left enough in the way of notes that the right individual could at least draw the series to something like its intended close, both to honour the work he put into it, and to provide closure for all the folks like me who want to know how it ends…

World War Z by Max Brooks

I bought this book almost by accident. I was in the bookshop looking for a couple of different things; with two novels in hand, I was casting about for something to make up a 3-for-2 and grabbed this one almost at random. Subtitled “An Oral History Of The Zombie War”, I was expecting something pulpy and trashy, and instead I found intelligence and feeling.

Dead simple premise: the world is over-run with zombies (or the Romero type), humankind does its best to survive. But that’s only the background action. In all the best traditions of zombie fiction, this is all about the hard-biting social commentary. Everyone from politicians counting votes first and cost later, to opportunistic big pharma, to mass-media as big business takes a proper hit. There’s enough gruesome and technical detail to get things going, but the crisis could have been almost anything. Told as a series of interviews with survivors from all parts of global society, read it just as a story of ordinary people doing their best to get by in a frightening situation.

A deep surprise.

The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch

My cousin left me a comment here a while back recommending the first of these books – it’s actually the first of seven intended books to make up the wonderfully-named Gentleman Bastard sequence (Red Seas is naturally enough the second volume). It’s rare that one of this cousin’s recommendations doesn’t go down well with me, so next time I was in a bookshop I picked it up.

And then I had trouble putting it down again :)

The Gentleman Bastards of the name are a small gang of con-men, anti-heros who just aren’t as bad as they want to be. Their tale is a rollicking one of honour and dishonour among theives, cross, double-cross, triple-cross and so on… It’s a great ride, fast and furious but made more immediate by some really excellent characters and characterisation; when there’s death in the ranks we’ve come to care enough to be moved.

Red Seas Under Red Skies by Scott Lynch

Volume two is, if anything, even better. The characters are given room to breathe a bit more, and some fab new ones are introduced.

The books are tricky to pigeon-hole. You’ll find them in the SF/fantasy section of the bookshop, and there’s elements of both in there, but not in an obtrusive way. It’s not like Iain M Banks or someone where you’re always aware that it’s a genre novel you’re reading. Swashbucklers, heist stories with elaborate schemes that would make Danny Ocean weep, romance (in any sense of the word you care to think of), social commentary… Deep and broad is the order here.

When I visited the author’s website and discovered that there’ll be seven of these, I did a little dance inside.

Easily the best new series I’ve come across in a long, long while.

So of course I grabbed the new, and last, Harry Potter book, Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows. I called past a bookshop at half-past midnight Friday night (in my defence, it was because I was on my way home from a wedding), and it was queued out the street and away. However, the local supermarket wasn’t. The march of the giants does have the occasional benefit.

I finished the book last night, and will (when I get the chance) construct a full and considered post on the topic. In the meantime, being busy, here’s a few of my initial simple thoughts.

• I really enjoyed it. Really enjoyed it, much more than I expected to. I was prepared for a bit of a disappointment and anticlimax after all the anticipation. I remembered how poor I found Order Of The Phoenix to be (the book, I’ll get to the film some time this week, I hope), and that Rowling certainly isn’t the most talented wielder of language out there. But I loved every page of this one.
• As the end of the series, I think it works well. There were things I was pretty sure would happen, and they did, but there was plenty of unexpected action, too. Loose ends are suitably wrapped up; there’s a bit more closure than a more literary author might have offered, but a younger audience probably needs that. Who am I kidding? I liked it too – made a nice change.
• It’s dark. Lot’s of death and dying, lots of violence, lots of good guys doing things that we might not altogether like. Harry Potter really has grown up.
• It’s also got lots of moralising. I can live with that. Relevant stuff, too. The main point being one of selflessness and giving for the sake of others, side-morals highlight the dangers of racism and prejudice.
• Alongside that, I’ll say more in a later post under a spoiler warning.
• One major supporting character’s story arc gets recast in a whole new light, and it’s amazing. I read that chapter through a couple of times before going on.
• It’s not perfect. It gets really complicated and tricky to follow at points, but that’s mainly down to the insane pace that doesn’t let down all the way through. The quality of the writing isn’t consistently wonderful.
• But the characters do grow a fair bit.

As I say, much more to come when I get the time.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

I remember studying Friedrich at school; The Book Thief reminded me of it. It’s that long since I read Friedrich that I can’t really comment on it, but I can tell you what I thought of Zusak’s book.

It’s a straightforward story of a little girl growing up just outside Munich in the early 1940s. The Second World War is happening all around; she dutifully attends Hitler Youth; her father was known as communist, so she is cared for by foster parents; her foster father isn’t a fan of the Nazis; they hide a young Jewish man in their basement. You may be able to figure out roughly where it goes from there.

A few things make the book stand out:

It’s supposed to be narrated by Death. This starts off a little gimmicky, but actually works well and adds impact. In fact, this voice provides some nice moments of poetry.

The foster parents are superb characters well portrayed.

It’s not the most subtle book in the world, but it is a good read. It has its poignant and moving moments, and they are effective even if you can almost hear the author thinking, “This, this is where they will cry.”

My knowledge and understanding of life in Nazi Germany are limited, but I do get the feeling that The Book Thief gives a good sense of what the war and Hitler meant for just a bunch of people trying to get by and not get noticed. In that respect it’s actually quite frightening and makes me wonder how I would have reacted. How do you keep your integrity when it means that not only you will suffer, but perhaps your family?

You’ll be glad you read it, I think.

The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters by G. W. Dahlquist

Steampunk has always appealed to me. I dug The Diamond Age; I took great delight in the LXG movie even though it was, objectively, crap; Wells and Verne have been friends of mine since I was young. So when the spiffy blue acetate cover of Glass Books invited me to read the blurb, I saw enough to tempt me to buy.

That was months ago, but I’ve only just got around to reading it.

It’s a book of contradictions. The plot is very straightforward, but takes quite some concentration to follow. The characters are drawn with broad strokes, but are attractive and compelling. Once the violence kicks in (early on) it doesn’t let up as the book screeches from one rollicking set-piece to the next, right to the very end, yet Dahlquist intensifies his pseudo-Victorian setting by indulging himself in a tremendously luxurious and playful approach to language, taking his time over every phrase: it’s a bit overwritten, but all the more fun for it.

As a novel, it’s all about the indulgence, actually. Sensuality, hedonism, greed and their exploitation are kind of the point. Carefully formed, the ten long chapters were originally published weekly to subscribers. It must have been a fun way to read it. The chapters alternate each following one of the three main characters, expect for the single chapter where they are together. As the climax approaches, we see things from these disjointed perspectives, slowly building to a picture of the whole: the assassin finds the doctor’s blood-soaked coat lying on the stairs — the doctor encounters a large pool of blood on the floor — the heroic debutante is revealed as having had a hand in both.

The work of the villainous Cabal is undeniably sinister, made all the more so by the slow reveal all the way through, where even by the end you only just get the hang of all the bizarre things they were up to (the glass books of the title aren’t even the half of it). It’s worth the read just to see where on earth the author’s going with it all.

Far from perfect, ultimately this is the written equivalent of what you might get should Quentin Tarantino and Joss Whedon decide to co-script a gothic, neo-Victorian styled summer blockbuster to be directed by Tim Burton. Yeah. Exactly.

And that’s what makes it fun.

(Take a look at the official website for the book. It is worth reading, and gives a good feel for the novel.)

There’s been a bit of comment floating around about Douglas Coupland’s most recent.

It bothers me (the book, not the comment) because in the past I’ve been quite keen on his novels. Girlfriend In A Coma and Hey, Nostradamus are notable favourites.

Let me republish the comment I left on Michaela’s post above:

As for jPod. It really isn’t very good, is it? When it’s actually advertised as ‘Microserfs for the…’ you know it’ll suck. I enjoyed Microserfs, but not this. Too much knowing, pomo-ironic self-reference. I hate to say this, but he seems more concerned with being Douglas Coupland and living up to his pop-culture prophet rep than writing good books anymore. Hey Nostradamus is the only worthwhile one from recent years. I’ll second the rec on Girlfriend, though. My first Coupland, and still a favourite.

I find myself wondering, if it’s just a little too subtle for me, if the lack of subtlety is the point in itself. Is that what Coupland is trying to say?

And then I think, nah. This one’s just a miss. ‘Microserfs for the Google generation,’ but without the appeal. Being knowing and clever is a major part of what I like about Coupland, but when it’s detached from an interesting or enjoyable novel then it just isn’t enough.

(By the way, please don’t forget this – voting until the 11th.)

I have finally, sitting here an hour ago, finished reading Neal Stephenson’s Baroque Cycle. ‘Finally’, as I’ve been working on it on and off for almost a whole year.

The strange thing is that for a series of a mere three volumes (even if they are especially thick volumes) that would ordinarily speak of a lack of engagement, or excitement, or similar negative something-or-other.

But no.
(more…)

If you dislike The DaVinci Code as I do, not because it slams the Church, but because it’s just plain rubbish, then you will appreciate this thread on MakingLight. Read it all the way to the bottom. It’s worth it.

I didn’t go shopping for a new novel at midnight – although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted ;-)

There’s maybe a little bit of a backlash going on against JK and Harry. That’s normal, though – it’s hardly the first time something’s got really popular only to have the critics show their intelligence by moaning about how poor it is. The ‘review’ in the New York Times (if that link asks you for a login, may I recommend BugMeNot.com? – one of those websites everyone should know about, just type in the site and it’ll give you a login to use) makes a very valid point:

Rowling’s gift is not so much for language as for characterization and plotting

Sometimes the writing is a little… not so good. But it’s been a while since I’d picked up a Potter book, and I’d forgotten how compelling and engaging the characters are. And the latest book is definitely much more about character than about plot progression. I like that. That’s why I enjoyed Lost In Translation so much.

I’d been thoroughly underwhelmed with the last book, and didn’t think too much of this one. But for each of them I’d grabbed a copy on the morning of their release and then burned through it in well under 24 hours. Over the last six days I’ve re-read them both, and discovered that taken at a more sensible pace (as sensible a pace as I ever read a novel at, anyway, 1200-odd pages in maybe 5 days – okay, so I am on holiday) they’re both highly enjoyable.

The visible growing-up of the series continues, even in writing style. As an experiment, compare the first couple of chapters of the first book to the first couple of one of the more recent ones and you’ll see what I mean. In happenings, the last few have certainly got much nastier. But before we complain, how do you remember Little Red Riding Hood going…?

There’s a surprising amount of snobbery out there, against ‘grown-ups’ reading books meant for ‘kids’. To that, all I can say is get over it. A cracking story is a cracking story. Just look at The Da Vinci Code – as I’ve said before, cracking yarn, mental plot, but Dan Brown can’t write for buttons. And that’d also be a good lesson in how not to do characters. But if you leave your prejudice behind, I’ll bet you enjoy.

If you’re new to the whole thing, I will say that Potter takes a while to really get going. I’d peg Goblet of Fire as where it all starts happening in earnest (and probably as the highlight so far), but the unfortunate thing is that without the earlier books you may well get a bit lost.

Man, this has turned into a bit of a ramble, hasn’t it? What can I say, I like it.

And I hope you all appreciate the trouble I’ve put myself to avoiding spoilers :-D

—

Now, to the serious bit.

An interesting read from Mark Greene of LICC on the Potter phenomenon and the varied Christian response:

If you’re undecided about whether the Potter books are essentially a ‘good thing’ or not, then the latest instalment, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, is unlikely to help you make up your mind. No darker than Potter 4 or 5 but much easier to read, it is a funny, engaging tale in which, if anything, Rowling’s powers of characterisation are keener than ever.

Whilst the Pope and a number of other Christian commentators regard the series as a portal to the occult, Rowling has constructed a coherent fantasy world that has little, if any connection, with the worldviews or values of real witchcraft or Wicca.

Indeed, the first novel celebrates the willingness of three separate individuals to lay down their lives out of love for others. Similarly, throughout the series, it is not Harry’s skill as a wizard that rescues him from death but his courage and loyalty, the sacrificial love of his mother and the selfless help of his friends and teachers.

It is, of course, entirely right that we should carefully critique the work of the most popular author of our age, but sobering that, back in the school room, our children are studying all kinds of often brilliant literary texts – humanist, existentialist, nihilist, materialist and expressly anti-God – with hardly a pamphlet on how to do so through Biblical lenses.

Alas, the Church’s rapid engagement with Rowling is not an indicator of a wider engagement with literature or the national curriculum in general. Sadly, it reveals the opposite: we are obsessed with the superficially ‘spiritual’, the fantasy world of witches and wizards, and have, on the whole, ignored the superficially ‘secular’ – from Aldous Huxley to Harold Pinter, from the theology of maths to the philosophy of history.

Christ, however, came to reconcile all things to himself – “whether things on earth or things in heaven”. (Colossians 1:20) And that includes the ordinary as well as the extraordinary, the world of pots and pans and performance targets, as well as the world of cauldrons (leaky and sound), kettles, and the Care of Magical Creatures.

Need I say I whole-heartedly agree with him?

I might even go so far to say that the books contain quite a powerful and relevant moral for today. If you take the series as it is to date (1 to 6), then I find one of the major recurring themes to be power and the correct use of power. Another one might be picked up in the trailer for the next movie, the choice “between what is right, and what is easy.”

Am I the only one who finds plenty to appreciate in that?

I don’t like to talk in terms of ‘the moral of the story’. It’s more the assumptions and ideas that are expressed underneath the storytelling. But it’s there.

I do believe we are guilty of not being critical enough of all the various media around us, but I also think we sometimes get a little too critical when something pops up big on the radar. When it comes to Harry Potter, my conclusion is to say relax and enjoy it – there’s plenty of good in there. The Crash Test Dummies are singing in my head, except I really doubt that a book-burning’s in order.