Good morning! How’s everyone doing? This week has been relatively quiet, book-wise — just comics for me!
TPBs
And some single issues…
Yep, a very Marvel week. What’s everyone else been picking up?
Good morning! How’s everyone doing? This week has been relatively quiet, book-wise — just comics for me!
TPBs
And some single issues…
Yep, a very Marvel week. What’s everyone else been picking up?
City of Saints and Madmen, Jeff VanderMeer
Originally reviewed 1st March, 2009
Confession: I didn’t actually read all of the appendix of this. I intend to finish it some day, but it’s not the kind of book I feel like I can sit down and just blitz on through. The… bittiness annoys me: I do like short stories/novellas, but this isn’t the easiest collection to read.
The comparisons between Perdido Street Station and this book are obvious. I felt the cities were characters in both books — more clearly so in this book, where there’s no single recurring, central character. It’s an interesting collection of stories with all kinds of different tones and styles and genres, even, all centred around the fictional city of Ambergris. The writing and descriptions are quite rich, and you build up a very clear mental image of this city.
Ignoring the appendix, there are four stories:
‘Dradin, In Love’ — This one was richest in very visual descriptions of the city. I kind of felt overwhelmed, a bit thrown in at the deep end, but I did like the descriptions. It was also the most straightforward short story — not masquerading as anything else. The ending was weird, and clever, but also kind of predictable.
‘The Hoegbotton Guide to the Early History of Ambergris’ — This was slightly drier, masquerading as a sort of history pamphlet. The footnotes made me laugh, but it was kind of irritating to go back and forth between text and footnotes. The style was clever, but the story wasn’t as enjoyable as the first one.
‘The Transformation of Martin Lake’ — This combined story-telling with a sort of… art criticism thing. Again, clever, and more interesting because there was also normal short story narrative. It kind of discusses misinterpretations of art and rolls its metaphorical eyes at people who pretend they understand author intent through psychoanalysing them.
‘The Strange Case of X’ — At this point it felt like it was “too clever by half”. Which is how I generally feel about authors appearing in their texts, so perhaps that isn’t an unexpected reaction from me. It was kind of obvious to me, and yeah, it’s a clever story device but it also wasn’t that surprising. Not so much world-building or anything, just pure “lookit my clever plot device, look!”.
Appendix — Stuff related to the previous story. Some of it is interesting, some of it not, for me.
Rating: 3/5
The Buried Giant, Kazuo Ishiguro
I was so eager to read this one, because I love Ishiguro’s writing and I love Sir Gawain, who I knew appears in this book. He’s not actually the main character (but then, he rarely is), but he is an essential part of the story, which unfolds steadily as you read. There’s a fog drifting across the memories of both Saxons and Britons, keeping them from remembering events both recent and further away; this same fog clouds the memories of an elderly man and his wife, who set out to find their son.
It’s quite a mysterious story, because of that fogginess; things get revealed slowly, things come together piece by piece. I think people who gave up on it, while justified if they weren’t enjoying it, can’t really grasp how this all comes together. There is a point to all of the little conflicts, all the repeated conversations, all the interactions. It ends as a meditation on death, memory, relationships… and to me, it was touching.
I enjoy Ishiguro’s style, and continued to do so here. I don’t really have a quibble with the pacing, because though it lost other people, it seems to work for me. But I can’t get behind this version of Sir Gawain… He’s not too bad in the end, and yet one or two things he does… nope. Not my Gawain.
Rating: 4/5
Luka and the Fire of Life, Salman Rushdie
I’ve been meaning to try something by Rushdie for a while, and the idea of trying something I hadn’t heard of by him sounded appealing. Especially since it’s a fable-like story set mostly in a fantasy world; that’s the sort of setting that most appeals to me. I actually don’t know much about the plots of Rushdie’s other books — just that there were a lot of objections to The Satanic Verses.
Luka and the Fire of Life is a fairly traditional fable in one way: a boy, seeing his father dying, must quest for the magical item that will restore him to life and allow him to live. But then there’s also gaming — Luka finishes levels, gathers extra lives, saves his game — and modern puns like the whole section with the Respectorate of I and the Otters (and the land of OTT, where everything is, well, over the top). It’s an odd juxtaposition at times, but I quite liked it — and Rushdie can certainly turn a phrase. I’m going to read more by him, but I think I’m glad I tried this first — it’s relatively short and unthreatening, so it might well make a good gateway drug.
Rating: 4/5
A Slip of the Keyboard, Terry Pratchett
This is a collection of Terry Pratchett’s non-fictional writing, including talks, articles, introductions and opinion pieces. It does include ‘Shaking Hands With Death’ as well, if you wanted to read that without actually buying the separate book with it in; this is technically better value for money, if you’re interested in all of the pieces. Most of them are interesting; one or two are odd without context — I haven’t read Nation recently enough, for example, to really appreciate his commentary on the writing of it, and the stage adaptation that was made.
If you’ve made the mistake of thinking of Sir Pratchett as like some ‘jolly old elf’, then Neil Gaiman’s introduction will begin to separate you from that notion, and then Pratchett’s own words will add to it. He had a burning anger which drove him in his writing and his activism, an anger at things that were wrong, an anger at the disease that was taking away parts of himself. He writes about that movingly several times; other essays talk about reading, learning, writing, the oddnesses of being an author…
I enjoyed reading it, though it’s not something I can see myself reading again. Worth it for the clear-eyed view on assisted dying and the kind of legislation we need on that.
Rating: 4/5
This week’s theme is all about what you’d put on a syllabus if you were teaching a 101 class. Being me, I’m going to pick fantasy work, because if I could get away with teaching a 101 class on this somewhere, I would.
Oh, man, I would so like to teach this as a real curriculum. What’s everyone else been coming up with?
Sooo back in July, I said I was going to take part in ARC August again, and posted about it here. How am I doing? Well… not that well, honestly.
Completed:
So yeah, I have plenty left to read.
Hoping to read:
I think that’s quite ambitious enough, especially since I have a whole bunch of other books I want to finish by the end of August too. Crossing fingers!
Kelly Link’s writing is gorgeous. These stories don’t all have the same tone or theme or setting or anything like that, but they do have that writing style in common, and it’s great. I’m not actually very good at liking short stories — I like developed characters and longer plots — but these are, for the most part, pretty enjoyable. ‘The Surfer’ was, if anything, a little too long for me, because most of what happens is character development.
I was surprised to realise I’d read both ‘The Wizards of Perfil’ and ‘The Constable of Abal’ before; I’m not sure where I read them, but it must’ve been an anthology. They’re probably my favourite of the two for language, setting and worldbuilding — and unsurprisingly, they’re the most secondary-world-fantasy of the bunch.
I was less sure about the alternating stories of ‘Pretty Monsters’; I think I’d have to read them again to really get the whole plot. There’s a great atmosphere with all of these, though: creepy, subtly wrong, and sometimes wry and funny as well.
Great collection.
Rating: 4/5
Finally finished my reread! I do like Garth Nix’s world, but I really didn’t get on with the characters, especially not second (or third) time around. Lirael is alright, but between her and Sameth, there’s too much self-pity. Mind you, that improves a lot in this book as both of them accept their responsibilities and burdens… not the responsibilities and burdens they expected to have to bear, but important ones, and ones perhaps more suited to them.
The background to this is interesting, too: the Bright Shiners, the Wallmakers, the power that goes into each of the lines that keeps the Old Kingdom safe. As Nix says in one of the notes in my edition, to know more about this would be almost to spoil the allure. It’s more fun to guess. I do want to know, though, if he knew of this song when he came up with the Nine Bright Shiners… (I asked. He replied that yes, he did, and it was intentional. Hurrah!)
I still wish for more of Sabriel and Touchstone in this one, as in Lirael, because I find them more interesting than their kids. But I do enjoy their brief appearances, and their obvious love for their kids balanced with their responsibilities.
And now onto Clariel — finally!
Rating: 3/5
This month’s theme is about the best bookish gifts you’ve received, and aside from books themselves, I have the perfect example this month! LookHuman.com have some great bookish t-shirts, and I now own an obscene number of them because my family/partner are good to me and it was my birthday on the 20th. Here’s the list (with links, if you click):
I’m a bit addicted to the raglans, they’re cosy and perfect for curling up to read in! Now if they came in more colours, I’d be set for life.
As for a general update, here goes. Green is for good progress or sticking to a target; orange is for marginal or in progress things. Red is for an uh-oh.
Yep, that is the sign of someone who got paid a lot this month. Too bad it doesn’t seem to be a repeat job.
Here’s my more general progress on resolutions:
So that’s all pretty good, as long as I keep behaving myself. (Or, alternately, keep getting well paid jobs. Sadly, this is not likely.)