Books - first half (and a bit)
Jul. 29th, 2012 03:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rich_jackoI meant to post this about a month ago, but didn't get around to writing it. Last year I managed to get into a good momentum reading books, and one of my New Year's resolutions for 2012 was to keep that up. Here's a run-down of the books I've read in the first half (and a bit) of the year:
Codex Alera (Jim Butcher) - Lost Roman Legion meets Pokémon. More coherent than it sounds, but not as good as Dresden. Full review here.
23 Things They Don't Tell You About Capitalism (Ha-Joon Chang) - Non-fiction. An interesting deconstruction of popular myths about capitalism, explaining why it ain't all it's cracked up to be. Brought back memories of A-level economics, but brought bang up to date. The format is slightly forced and some of the "23 things" are rather similar. Can't fault the arguments though, which is pleasantly surprising in a left-wing economic commentary. This book has done more to influence my political views in the last year than any number of politicians or newspapers.
The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) - I started reading this last year and finished it off recently (Well, there are 60 stories!). What is there to be said about Sherlock Holmes that hasn't been said already? Holmes, Watson and their relationship are brilliant, the writing's barely aged at all, and there's fun to be had trying (and usually failing) to solve the mystery before Holmes reveals the answer. The four longer novellas (including most famously The Hound of the Baskervilles are a bit more involved, but I think my favourites are the short stories that add variety by breaking the usual formula - such as A Scandal in Bohemia, The Final Problem/The Empty House, The Dying Detective, The Blanched Soldier, and His Last Bow.
Death Troopers (Joe Schreiber) - It's Star Wars with zombies; what more could you want? An Imperial prison ship encounters an apparently deserted Star Destroyer deep in space, only (as you'd expect) it turns out not to be quite so deserted after all. This could easily have been a genre-mashing gimmick, but it actually works really well. Schreiber has gone all out in writing a slasher novel, which was the right way to do it. Stylistically, this is definitely not your normal PG-rated, light-hearted SW adventure. It's surprisingly tense and creepy, and definitely not one to read late at night. There's also a very welcome surprise at the end of chapter 18, but saying more would spoil it.
Darth Plagueis (James Luceno) - James Luceno's Star Wars novels are either brilliant (Cloak of Deception, Labyrinth of Evil) or... very much less than brilliant (Dark Lord). Sadly this falls into the latter category. It spends so much time squeezing in references to other prequel-era novels and comics that it forgets at times to have a coherent story of its own. Even more seriously, it fails because Darth Plagueis, so intriguingly hinted at in Episode III, turns out to be a very dull character. It's not without redeeming features though. The real interest of course was never going to be in Plagueuis himself; it's in reading Palpatine's younger days, seeing where he came from and what he was like as an apprentice, and here the Luceno really does deliver. Young Palpatine is represented fantastically - a brilliant mind, lofty ambitions, confidence beyond his abilities and experience, and no morality whatsoever. Unfortunately, he isn't quite fantastic enough to save the book.
The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ (Philip Pullman) - I've been meaning to read this for ages and Easter seemed like a good excuse. It's a "what if?" variation on the Gospels, with the twist that Jesus was one of twin brothers, one of whom was the Messiah and the other was a very naughty boy. Pullman deliberately avoids saying too emphatically what it's all about in the afterword but, like His Dark Materials a major theme is the author railing against how the Church abuses its influence and authority. It isn't an anti-Christian book by any means. Although it changes the story slightly and is somewhat ambivalent about how miraculous various miracles were, the core morality in the tale is very Christian. Thought-provoking, but not as inflammatory as its publicity makes out.
The Fry Chronicles (Stephen Fry) - The second volume of Stephen Fry's autobiography, covering his time from university to his early television career in the 80s. Do you get that phenomenon where you read something and hear it in the writer's voice? If so, 400 pages of Stephen Fry reading to you in your head is the height of literary decadence. It's as much a stream of his vast consciousness as a proper story, diverging off into tangents about pipe-smoking, early computer geekery, or the correct placing of the apostrophe in "Queens' College". This is much more enjoyable than the first volume ("Moab is my Washpot"), as it's about the grown-up Stephen Fry as we know and love him, packed with familiar shows and faces, and he doesn't hold back. The review quotes on the back cover describe it as "painfully honest", and they aren't kidding.
Closing Time (Joseph Heller) - The sequel to Catch 22, written 40 years later and shortly before Joseph Heller's death. The surviving characters are now in their old age and desperately struggling against "The End". Whether "The End" is death, the collapse of modern (1990s) society, or some other threat entirely isn't entirely clear, but as before, the odds are hopeless and the only way for our heroes to cope is to plunge headlong in and try to outdo the absurdity of it all. I loved the incredibly black humour and satire of Catch 22, but I couldn't get on with this sequel. The War was a tangible threat and, however great the odds, you always knew there was a chance of survival and rooted for them. But "The End" is far more nebulous and inescapable. It isn't clear what they're struggling against and the story is all a bit aimless. Then it goes all weird at the end. Disappointing.
Transformers: Police Action (Mike Costa) - Yes, I still read Transformersgraphic novels comics and I don't care. Volume 6 in the current ongoing IDW chronology, this is one of the better ones. Given that the central premise of Transformers is a pan-galactic war between hundreds of giant toy robots, it's very easy for it to get silly and OTT. The best stories are those that tone down the scale and concentrate on smaller situations involving just a few characters. This is a great example. An incredibly fragile alliance exists between the Autobots and the US military. Spike, the military leader, has murdered a Decepticon in cold blood. Prowl is investigating on the Autobots' behalf. This is a surprisingly thought-provoking little tale about the ethics of warfare and whether deliberate, cold-blooded assassination is ever morally acceptable. Plus it has a great twist in the final act, referencing all the way back to something from the very first IDW stories that I'd almost forgotten about.
Transformers: Chaos (Mike Costa / James Roberts) - This, on the other hand, is a prime example of what happens when a TF story gets too big in scope and how not to do it. Galvatron's back! And he's taken over the whole planet Cybertron! And there's an even bigger threat from another dimension coming to destroy the universe! And Prime and Galvatron race each other to get their respective magical MacGuffins to another magical MacGuffin in the heart of the planet in order to to... You know what, I give up. It makes no sense and just kind of... stops at the end with no explanation. Livio Ramondelli's stylised artwork, while very atmospheric, doesn't exactly help you follow what's going on either. The coda is a nice touch, but ultimately unsatisfying. The next volume is going to be a semi-reboot. Let's hope it puts things back on track.
Stonehenge (Bernard Cornwell) - If Easter was my excuse to read Philip Pullman, then the solstice was my excuse for reading this. I fancied a slice of Bernard Cornwell history, and this pretty much does all that it needs to. Delving so far back into (pre-)history, this is even more speculative than usual for historical novels. Every character is made up. However, the historical note at the back shows Cornwell's usual meticulous research and attention to detail. It could have happened like this, and this tale of three brothers is reasonably plausible. The portrayal of ancient religions is very much as it was in Cornwell's Winter King trilogy and, like that story, you can read it as if the gods are real or not. There are perhaps a few too many similar characters, but the main ones are well drawn and Cornwell has successfully woven a decent amount of intrigue, war, romance and betrayal into what is fundamentally a story about a bunch of men moving rocks about. Solid Cornwell but not one of his best.
In the Days of the Comet / Men Like Gods (H.G. Wells) - I read a whole collection of H.G. Wells stories a year or so ago and I recently picked up a second collection. Seeing where sci-fi all began is fascinating, but Wells is a cracking good read as well. The pacing can be a little slow and there's often not a lot of story beyond whatever the core event happens to be, but that's because there's stacks of vivid descriptions, characterisation and political / philosophical dilemmas. These two stories both deal with alternate societies, one after the titular comet and one in a parallel world. Like all the best sci-fi, Wells uses unreal situations to explore the reality of human nature. The socialist and atheist anti-hero of In the Days of the Comet probably caused quite a stir in Edwardian England, and the war with Germany is disturbingly prescient. And then Men Like Gods foretells genetic engineering and voicemail. It's a cliché to say that a century-old book is "as relevant today as ever", but when you're reading about over-population, political revolution, or a world brought low by the greed of its banking system, it's difficult not to. Men Like Gods is the better of these two stories, mainly because it's the more thought-provoking. Although it's clear where Wells's sympathy lies, he does offer some strong criticism of his utopian society and no easy answers.
The Lost World (Sir Arther Conan Doyle) - I originally read this "Boy's Own adventure" when I was a kid, but it certainly stands up to a re-read. (Actually I mostly decided to read it again after picking up the Jurassic Park trilogy on DVD.) The paleontology is bunkum these days, of course, given a century's further discoveries, but so what? It has explorers and wild tribes and treachery and DINOSAURS! It's a pretty quick read and the pages fly by. The motley gang of adventurers - the bickering Professors Challenger and Summerlee, the gentleman and sportsman Lord John Roxton, and the journalist/narrator Ed Malone are all classic characters who bounce off each other very entertainingly. Each is on the quest for his own reasons, not necessarily compatible. The various scrapes they get into are suitably thrilling and the slightly unexpected ending is nonetheless satisfying.
Moon Over Soho (Ben Aaronovitch) - The second in the "British Dresden Files" series. Well, Peter Grant isn't officially the British Dresden, but he might as well be. Wizards, smart-ass cops, smart-ass baddies, pop culture references aplenty, mysterious deaths, river goddesses, chases, violence, sex and jazz - it's got pretty much all you could ask for. It's good for all the same reasons Dresden is good - strong characters, a good mystery, lots of humour, and an ever-expanding world that mixes the supernatural and the everyday. The big plus point for me is that London and the workings of the British establishment are a lot more familiar than Chicago and America. But despite the inevitable comparisons, this stands up well as a series on its own. The third installment is now out in hardback, and I'll definitely be picking up the paperback when it's released.
Codex Alera (Jim Butcher) - Lost Roman Legion meets Pokémon. More coherent than it sounds, but not as good as Dresden. Full review here.
23 Things They Don't Tell You About Capitalism (Ha-Joon Chang) - Non-fiction. An interesting deconstruction of popular myths about capitalism, explaining why it ain't all it's cracked up to be. Brought back memories of A-level economics, but brought bang up to date. The format is slightly forced and some of the "23 things" are rather similar. Can't fault the arguments though, which is pleasantly surprising in a left-wing economic commentary. This book has done more to influence my political views in the last year than any number of politicians or newspapers.
The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) - I started reading this last year and finished it off recently (Well, there are 60 stories!). What is there to be said about Sherlock Holmes that hasn't been said already? Holmes, Watson and their relationship are brilliant, the writing's barely aged at all, and there's fun to be had trying (and usually failing) to solve the mystery before Holmes reveals the answer. The four longer novellas (including most famously The Hound of the Baskervilles are a bit more involved, but I think my favourites are the short stories that add variety by breaking the usual formula - such as A Scandal in Bohemia, The Final Problem/The Empty House, The Dying Detective, The Blanched Soldier, and His Last Bow.
Death Troopers (Joe Schreiber) - It's Star Wars with zombies; what more could you want? An Imperial prison ship encounters an apparently deserted Star Destroyer deep in space, only (as you'd expect) it turns out not to be quite so deserted after all. This could easily have been a genre-mashing gimmick, but it actually works really well. Schreiber has gone all out in writing a slasher novel, which was the right way to do it. Stylistically, this is definitely not your normal PG-rated, light-hearted SW adventure. It's surprisingly tense and creepy, and definitely not one to read late at night. There's also a very welcome surprise at the end of chapter 18, but saying more would spoil it.
Darth Plagueis (James Luceno) - James Luceno's Star Wars novels are either brilliant (Cloak of Deception, Labyrinth of Evil) or... very much less than brilliant (Dark Lord). Sadly this falls into the latter category. It spends so much time squeezing in references to other prequel-era novels and comics that it forgets at times to have a coherent story of its own. Even more seriously, it fails because Darth Plagueis, so intriguingly hinted at in Episode III, turns out to be a very dull character. It's not without redeeming features though. The real interest of course was never going to be in Plagueuis himself; it's in reading Palpatine's younger days, seeing where he came from and what he was like as an apprentice, and here the Luceno really does deliver. Young Palpatine is represented fantastically - a brilliant mind, lofty ambitions, confidence beyond his abilities and experience, and no morality whatsoever. Unfortunately, he isn't quite fantastic enough to save the book.
The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ (Philip Pullman) - I've been meaning to read this for ages and Easter seemed like a good excuse. It's a "what if?" variation on the Gospels, with the twist that Jesus was one of twin brothers, one of whom was the Messiah and the other was a very naughty boy. Pullman deliberately avoids saying too emphatically what it's all about in the afterword but, like His Dark Materials a major theme is the author railing against how the Church abuses its influence and authority. It isn't an anti-Christian book by any means. Although it changes the story slightly and is somewhat ambivalent about how miraculous various miracles were, the core morality in the tale is very Christian. Thought-provoking, but not as inflammatory as its publicity makes out.
The Fry Chronicles (Stephen Fry) - The second volume of Stephen Fry's autobiography, covering his time from university to his early television career in the 80s. Do you get that phenomenon where you read something and hear it in the writer's voice? If so, 400 pages of Stephen Fry reading to you in your head is the height of literary decadence. It's as much a stream of his vast consciousness as a proper story, diverging off into tangents about pipe-smoking, early computer geekery, or the correct placing of the apostrophe in "Queens' College". This is much more enjoyable than the first volume ("Moab is my Washpot"), as it's about the grown-up Stephen Fry as we know and love him, packed with familiar shows and faces, and he doesn't hold back. The review quotes on the back cover describe it as "painfully honest", and they aren't kidding.
Closing Time (Joseph Heller) - The sequel to Catch 22, written 40 years later and shortly before Joseph Heller's death. The surviving characters are now in their old age and desperately struggling against "The End". Whether "The End" is death, the collapse of modern (1990s) society, or some other threat entirely isn't entirely clear, but as before, the odds are hopeless and the only way for our heroes to cope is to plunge headlong in and try to outdo the absurdity of it all. I loved the incredibly black humour and satire of Catch 22, but I couldn't get on with this sequel. The War was a tangible threat and, however great the odds, you always knew there was a chance of survival and rooted for them. But "The End" is far more nebulous and inescapable. It isn't clear what they're struggling against and the story is all a bit aimless. Then it goes all weird at the end. Disappointing.
Transformers: Police Action (Mike Costa) - Yes, I still read Transformers
Transformers: Chaos (Mike Costa / James Roberts) - This, on the other hand, is a prime example of what happens when a TF story gets too big in scope and how not to do it. Galvatron's back! And he's taken over the whole planet Cybertron! And there's an even bigger threat from another dimension coming to destroy the universe! And Prime and Galvatron race each other to get their respective magical MacGuffins to another magical MacGuffin in the heart of the planet in order to to... You know what, I give up. It makes no sense and just kind of... stops at the end with no explanation. Livio Ramondelli's stylised artwork, while very atmospheric, doesn't exactly help you follow what's going on either. The coda is a nice touch, but ultimately unsatisfying. The next volume is going to be a semi-reboot. Let's hope it puts things back on track.
Stonehenge (Bernard Cornwell) - If Easter was my excuse to read Philip Pullman, then the solstice was my excuse for reading this. I fancied a slice of Bernard Cornwell history, and this pretty much does all that it needs to. Delving so far back into (pre-)history, this is even more speculative than usual for historical novels. Every character is made up. However, the historical note at the back shows Cornwell's usual meticulous research and attention to detail. It could have happened like this, and this tale of three brothers is reasonably plausible. The portrayal of ancient religions is very much as it was in Cornwell's Winter King trilogy and, like that story, you can read it as if the gods are real or not. There are perhaps a few too many similar characters, but the main ones are well drawn and Cornwell has successfully woven a decent amount of intrigue, war, romance and betrayal into what is fundamentally a story about a bunch of men moving rocks about. Solid Cornwell but not one of his best.
In the Days of the Comet / Men Like Gods (H.G. Wells) - I read a whole collection of H.G. Wells stories a year or so ago and I recently picked up a second collection. Seeing where sci-fi all began is fascinating, but Wells is a cracking good read as well. The pacing can be a little slow and there's often not a lot of story beyond whatever the core event happens to be, but that's because there's stacks of vivid descriptions, characterisation and political / philosophical dilemmas. These two stories both deal with alternate societies, one after the titular comet and one in a parallel world. Like all the best sci-fi, Wells uses unreal situations to explore the reality of human nature. The socialist and atheist anti-hero of In the Days of the Comet probably caused quite a stir in Edwardian England, and the war with Germany is disturbingly prescient. And then Men Like Gods foretells genetic engineering and voicemail. It's a cliché to say that a century-old book is "as relevant today as ever", but when you're reading about over-population, political revolution, or a world brought low by the greed of its banking system, it's difficult not to. Men Like Gods is the better of these two stories, mainly because it's the more thought-provoking. Although it's clear where Wells's sympathy lies, he does offer some strong criticism of his utopian society and no easy answers.
The Lost World (Sir Arther Conan Doyle) - I originally read this "Boy's Own adventure" when I was a kid, but it certainly stands up to a re-read. (Actually I mostly decided to read it again after picking up the Jurassic Park trilogy on DVD.) The paleontology is bunkum these days, of course, given a century's further discoveries, but so what? It has explorers and wild tribes and treachery and DINOSAURS! It's a pretty quick read and the pages fly by. The motley gang of adventurers - the bickering Professors Challenger and Summerlee, the gentleman and sportsman Lord John Roxton, and the journalist/narrator Ed Malone are all classic characters who bounce off each other very entertainingly. Each is on the quest for his own reasons, not necessarily compatible. The various scrapes they get into are suitably thrilling and the slightly unexpected ending is nonetheless satisfying.
Moon Over Soho (Ben Aaronovitch) - The second in the "British Dresden Files" series. Well, Peter Grant isn't officially the British Dresden, but he might as well be. Wizards, smart-ass cops, smart-ass baddies, pop culture references aplenty, mysterious deaths, river goddesses, chases, violence, sex and jazz - it's got pretty much all you could ask for. It's good for all the same reasons Dresden is good - strong characters, a good mystery, lots of humour, and an ever-expanding world that mixes the supernatural and the everyday. The big plus point for me is that London and the workings of the British establishment are a lot more familiar than Chicago and America. But despite the inevitable comparisons, this stands up well as a series on its own. The third installment is now out in hardback, and I'll definitely be picking up the paperback when it's released.
