Tillabooks: Will's Book Blog

Spy vs Spy 2 by David Shayne

2008-05-18T18:45:00.000-07:00

Spy vs Spy 2: The Joke and Dagger Files by David Shayne. New York: Watson-Guptill Publications, 2007. ISBN: 978-08230-5035-2

I don't usually read comic books or graphic novels. However, I do avidly read the comic page, “the funnies” as we used to call them, every day in the newspaper. And I used to like Mad Magazine when I was younger, and had more time for such things.

Everybody knows Spy vs. Spy. It's been a mainstay of MAD Magazine forever, pretty much. This is apparently the second book-length collection of Spy vs. Spy cartoons. The original creator of the strip was Antonio Prohias, a Cuban expatriate. The first collection, titled Spy vs. Spy: The Complete Casebook, published in 2001, was devoted to his work.

When Prohias finally retired, after almost 40 years of Spy vs. Spy, various in house writers (Duck Edwing, Russ Cooper, etc.) took over, with first Bob Clark and later Dave Manak responsible for most of the drawings. These strips are featured in the first 100+ pages of the book

Then in 1996, MAD was undergoing a face lift. The editors looked for a new look for Spy along with the rest of the mag, and at some point, offered the job to already established artist, Peter Kuper. Kuper brought a new air-brushed look to Spy, and as both a writer and an artist, brought both halves of the strip back into one brain. His creations take us through page 291.

To close out the book, we have a few pages of Spy vs Spy JR, designed for a pre-teen kids version of MAD, plus a few pages of Spy vs. Spy, The Comic Strip, which actually ran (briefly) in syndication in various newspapers.

I've had this book sitting on the floor next to my computer for the past six or seven weeks. It was my “read while waiting” book. If the computer was taking too long to load a web page, or to process a graphics file, or any of the other interminable things that computers make you wait for, I'd grab the Spy book, and read a strip or too. Great way to pass the otherwise wasted time!

My only complaint? Occasionally the jokes are too arcane, too abstruse, too convoluted, even for me. If you don't get it on first look, it's too much. But even I'll admit those were few and far between. Spy vs. Spy continually reminds us of the futility of war, covert or otherwise.

So there you have it—read this book, and you'll be fully up-to-date on Spy vs. Spy, at least through 2007. And all without buying a single MAD magazine. Thoroughly recommended for all Spy vs Spy fans, MAD Magazine fans, and anyone else who wonders what all the fuss is about.

The Da-Da-De-Da-Da Code by Robert Rankin

2008-05-17T20:32:00.000-07:00

The Da-Da-De-Da-Da Code by Robert Rankin. London: Gollancz, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-57507-0-110

I picked this book up (off the new fiction shelf at my local library, per usual) because of the seemingly musical aspect to the title, and because, according to the flyleaf, the chief character is, indeed, a musician. I'm always on the lookout for fiction with a musical aspect to it, as reading such stories is one of my hobbies, so to speak.

But, I'm sorry to say that I struck out with this one. I just couldn't stomach it. Apparently Rankin is considered a master of a comic, silly style that many people find hilariously irresistible. Sorry. I found it intolerable. I couldn't make it past the first 10 pages or so. So much for Nancy Pearl's Rule of Fifty.

I found the writing style to be incredibly supercilious and smarmy. Reading it was to me like the proverbial fingernails scratching on the blackboard. Life is too short. There are too many other books out there that I want to read to force myself to read something that I found so viscerally annoying. If a blatantly comic style is your thing, ignore my advice and read this book. Otherwise, not recommended.

Rifkind's Challenge by Lynn Abbey

2008-05-14T20:16:00.000-07:00

Rifkind's Challenge by Lynn Abbey. New York: Tor, 2006. ISBN: 978-0-765-31346-1

The entire time I was reading Rifkind's Challenge, it seemed obvious that this couldn't possibly be the first Rifkind book. That's because almost from the beginning, there are echoes of previous deeds, a reputation from before, a traveling back into other lands where Rifkind has had previous experiences.

But you certainly couldn't tell from the front matter in the book itself. There is no listing of any other Rifkind titles. It's annoying the way publishers behave, only listing other Lynn Abbey books, if they are also published under the Tor imprint. So I had to use the ubiquitous Internet to find Abbey's website to learn that there are indeed, two previous Rifkind books, albeit from many years ago, titled Daughter of the Bright Moon (1979) and The Black Flame (1980), both now out of print.

Rifkind is the name of a woman who has special powers as a healer, and perhaps as a devotee of the goddess of the Bright Moon. She is also a master of swordcraft and fighting. Now she's leaving her home of many years among the tribes of the plain, along with the son of the chieftain, and her own son, both grown, and striking out for a new life on their own.

Her own son, Cho, is estranged from her. He feels abandoned, emotionally, and mostly resentful. Resentful that his mother has never spared him any time, attention, or training. She's left him to be raised by the tribal chieftain, as a trusted companion and friend to the chief's son Tyrokon.

And yet the chief's son cannot inherit, because he is partially lame. Rifkind has been working to heal him since he was an infant, but she has only been able to bring him along so far. So now he plans to seek another way of life, to become a caravaner. Rifkind goes along to see him settled, but she is feeling the pull of other lands, other pasts. When the caravaner career turns out to be a false lead, a trap or trick of some kind, the boys decide to follow her.

Adventures ensue. This is a well-written, eminently readable swords and sorcery kind of story, with a diminutive but formidable heroine. I would definitely read the two earlier books if they came into my hands. Recommended for any and all fans of this type of fantasy tale.

Resurrection by Tucker Malarkey

2008-05-12T18:50:00.000-07:00

Resurrection by Tucker Malarkey. New York: Riverhead Books (Penguin Group), 2006. ISBN: 1-59448-919-X

I read this book because I'm interested in that alternative branch of religious thought known as gnosticism, and especially in the Christian branches of it. This is a novel based around the original discovery, shortly after World War II, of the Nag Hammadi texts, which included a number of gnostic writings and gospels, including the Gospel of Thomas, and the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, among others.

This is a fictional version of the story, of course, and as such, has as its major characters, people who never existed. Gemma (what a strange name!) Bastian is an English woman, a nurse who has barely survived the London blitz, and whose father was a researcher in Egypt. When she learns of his unexpected and untimely death, she travels to Egypt to try and discover something of what happened, and to deal with his effects.

In the course of this odyssey, she encounters an interesting family of expatriates with whom she stays. The father had been a friend of her father, but they seem to have become estranged. One son is a bitter and disillusioned RAF pilot, who lost a leg in the war, and who begins to fall in love with Gemma, but whose scarred experience seems to have left him incapable of any genuine emotions.

The other brother is, like Gemma's father, a man on the track of these ancient documents, but he treats Gemma superciliously, trying to keep her at a distance, wanting to protect her from the danger that has perhaps killed her father, and several others. Some of his efforts seem genuine, others patronizing, because of Gemma's sex.

Powerful forces are at work, and some of them are sinister. Not everyone wants these old gospels to come to light. And others are simply motivated by greed, determined to capture whatever value the manuscripts may have in the world marketplace.

Gemma, herself, is on a journey of discovery. She is determined to learn whatever it was that drove her father, and to get to the bottom of what may have caused her death. And she is torn between the two brothers themselves, and their growing relationships with her.

Fortunately for us, author Tucker Malarkey (what a name!) has provided us not only with an introductory note, explaining her motives in writing the book, but with an Epilogue, a Timeline, a “Who Is Real” note, and other brief, but telling accompanimental material as well.

At the root of much of what Gemma discovers, in retracing the intellectual and physical steps of her father, is that the Roman Church has put forward its own version of Christianity, a version in which there is almost no significant role for women. The alternative version(s) show that women had an equally important role in other early traditions, and in the life of Christ himself, if these other texts are to be believed.

While I would not describe this book as a great literary masterpiece, it succeeds in retelling much of this important story in an evocative and compelling manner. Definitely recommended for anyone with any interest in this topic, and especially for those who prefer to learn while being entertained by a story, as opposed to a more scholarly approach.

The Music of Razors by Cameron Rogers

2008-05-11T17:38:00.000-07:00

The Music of Razors by Cameron Rogers. New York: Del Ray (Ballantine Books), 2001, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-345-49319-4

Now this is one of the stranger novels I've read in recent years. About the only thing that surpasses it for strangeness that I can recall reading recently is Hal Duncan's Vellum. Let's see if I can define the premise. It's not easy to do.

One of the angels that fell into darkness has somehow destroyed one of his fellows, and from his very bones, fashioned a set of instruments, not musical, but more like surgical, or psychological. What exactly happened to the angel who did this is not entirely clear, but the instruments themselves seem to have been set loose on earth, and they seem to provide certain magical powers to whoever has control over them.

Much of the story revolves around a couple of the men who have had possession of some or most of these arcane instruments, and some children who get caught up in the transition between owners. It's not entirely clear if the “owners” of these instruments hand them on to someone else, or if they are wrested from them by a successor. Not too much of what happens in this story is entirely clear.

The tale does have its interesting points, and it is not without a certain amount of entertainment value. Certainly the premise is one of the more offbeat concepts I've encountered in fantastical fiction recently. Nevertheless, it's all just a bit too abstruse for my taste. I don't have to have everything handed to me on a platter, but I do appreciate some sense of what's going on, and why.

Marginally recommended for those with a taste for the bizarre and slightly unfathomable.

The Testament of Gideon Mack by James Robertson

2008-05-07T20:47:00.000-07:00

The Testament of Gideon Mack by James Robertson. New York: Viking, 2006. ISBN: 978-0-670-03844-2

If it weren't for the supernatural elements of this book, I probably never would have read it. First, the title, which suggests something Biblical in nature. Then the cover, which has a crude depiction of a devil's head on it. And then the flyleaf plot summary, which describes a Scottish Presbyterian minister, a good man, albeit an atheist, who is thought to have fallen into a chasm and drowned, but is miraculously raised from the dead three days later, and claims to have seen (and been saved by) no less than the devil himself.

This all made for a premise intriguing enough to grab me, for for me to grab the book and bring it home from the local public library. I'm not sorry I did, although the book is ultimately disappointing. So, the man claims to have seen the devil. So what? This is only fiction, after all. This is the kind of story that would be shocking, were it claimed to be true, but since it isn't (true, that is), it isn't (shocking, that is).

Still, the book is interesting enough, for all that, to not disappoint while one is actually reading it. The author is a master of his craft, and the story quite compelling as presented. Recommended for those who like fiction with supernatural elements.

Fortune's Fool by Mercedes Lackey

2008-05-04T22:03:00.000-07:00

Fortune's Fool by Mercedes Lackey. New York: Luna, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-373-80266-1

This is another in Mercedes Lackey's “500 Kingdoms” novels in which she has fun playing with the fairy tale traditions of various countries or ethnic regions. I'm not enough of an expert in this area to analyze all of the traditions she uses, but the primary story takes place in an Eastern European/Russian kind of milieu, with Russalkas, Baba Yaga, and so forth.

Plus we get an undersea kingdom with tritons, mermaids, mermen and sirens (at least mentioned, if not featured). And a nice little side trip diversion to medieval Japan, while the final, culminating episode includes a djinn from the Arabic tradition. All in all, a nice mixture of various traditional cultural folk elements. All woven together into a delightful romance between a princess of the sea kingdom and the seventh prince of the kingdom of Lud Belerus.

One difference between this story and the ones which preceded it (The Fairy Godmother and One Good Knight) is that the rulers of the kingdoms are keenly aware the “the tradition,” the basic law behind this realm of “The 500 Kingdoms,” which attempts to force everything and everyone into the traditional patterns, the archetypical elements of traditional fairy tales, either for good or for ill, for either happy endings, or equally easily into horrific tragedies with truly awful effects on the people who fall into those bad endings.

In the previous books, or so it seemed to me, only fairy godmothers and other high level magical beings were aware of how the tradition wanted to manipulate the lives and stories of the people in the 500 kingdoms, but in this story, the kings of these two kingdoms, at least, are very aware of the tradition; they have deliberately studied it extensively, and work to the best of their ability to manipulate that tradition to the favor of their kingdoms, and those who live in them.

This story involves Ekaterina, “Katya,” the youngest daughter of the Sea King, who, with his court and all of his children, live magically under the sea. The Sea King has carefully groomed each of his children in a role that suits his or her own proclivities, and Katya is his eyes and ears, his intelligence system. She is the only one of his children who can easily switch between land and sea, and so she is often sent on missions to neighboring land-based kingdoms to check on anything unusual or ominous occurring anywhere on the lands that surround their oceanic home.

Interspersed with her story is that of Sasha, the seventh son of the king of Lud Belerus, who because of his seventh son position, has inherited the role of the “fortunate fool.” In addition, he is a “songweaver,” meaning he can influence events magically by singing songs about them. Not big magics, like killing people or healing them, but small magics like better weather, good harvests, good fishing for fishermen, and the like.

Eventually, of course, the two royal children, Sasha and Katya, meet and fall in love. But before they can get on with things in a proper manner, they have to overcome one more monumental challenge. Which they do, bringing together various elements from earlier parts of the story.

Which brings me to the point that in some ways, this novel is a bit of a pastiche of different tales from different cultures, kind of thrown together to create a whole. But each of the individual stories is entertaining enough in its own right, that we don't really mind, especially since the characters are so endearing, and so charmingly portrayed that we are just carried along, happy to be engaged in "The 500 Kingdoms" again for as long as we can. And Lackey DOES bring elements from each previous story into play in the finale, with everything working together for good, as the “good book” says.

Highly recommended for all readers, young and old alike, especially those with a propensity for fairy tales. BTW, you can read the first three chapters online.

Ragamuffin by Tobias S. Buckell

2008-04-27T21:18:00.000-07:00

Ragamuffin by Tobias S. Buckell. New York: Tor, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-7653-1507-6

When I picked this book up off my local library's new books shelf, and even when I started reading it, I had no idea that it was a sequel to another book, Crystal Rain, which I reviewed back on March 18 of this year. I guess I didn't notice for a couple of reasons. For one, Crystal Rain was Buckell's first novel, so he was an author new to me. When I picked up this book, I knew I'd read something by him recently, but I didn't pay enough attention to realize this was the sequel, even though it's mentioned in the flyleaf blurb.

But more significantly, when I started to read the book, there was nothing initially that seemed to even remotely connect with the previous story. Crystal Rain took place on a single planet, with humankind fighting against inimical alien control, with the assistance of another set of aliens.

Here, instead, we have a whole region of space, a whole array of galactic locations, joined in a complex, but limited web of wormholes. Referred to as the "Benevolent Satrapy" in the star map printed at the front of the book. When the book opens, we find ourselves in a society in which various alien races are treating humans as pets. A clever woman kills one of them, and escapes. She seems to be a hired gun assassin, a physically enhanced fighter, who narrowly escapes capture, and is on a mission of her own.

Meanwhile the so-called Benevolent Satrapy no longer seems entirely benevolent. It seems to have begun turning on humankind, and beginning a policy of genocide against them. About half-way through the book, we're back on New Anegada, the planet where Crystal Rain took place, picking up the lives of the characters where Crystal Rain left off. Things get complicated, but let's just say that various human factions are not only fighting various alien races, but sometimes each other, in an attempt to better the overall position of the human race.

It's a complicated universe, and I can't say as I quite understand it all just yet, but it makes for a good story line, with plenty of action, and plenty to try and twist your mind around. Buckell is a good writer, even if the universe he's created is a bit more complex than would seem to be required. Recommended for most SciFi fans. BTW, you can read a significant portion of the book online, for free. Of course, you can read it for free via your local public library, too.

A War of Gifts by Orson Scott Card

2008-04-20T21:42:00.000-07:00

A War of Gifts (an Ender Story) by Orson Scott Card. New York: Tor, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-7653-1282-2

For fans of Orson Scott Card's science fiction, especially his Enders Game (1985) and its sequel, Speaker for the Dead (1986), both of which won both the Hugo and Nebula awards, making Card the only author (up to now) to win both awards in successive years, this Ender story will definitely be a "must read." This story will also be of interest to those who enjoy the literary genre of Christmas stories, as it most certainly falls into that category, as well. I have to wonder if he wrote it as a kind of extended Christmas card for someone or other, or for his fans.

Well, anyway, suffice it to say that it's a charmingly sweet story on the one hand, but not without its dark side, on the other. Zeck (short for Zechariah, one assumes), is the 5-year-old son of an ultra-fundamentalist Christian father, who frequently feels the need to purify young Zeck through the means of corporal punishment.

Zeck has a particularly brilliant mind, replete with a perfectly photographic memory, not just for what he reads, but for all words he encounters, spoken or written. He can repeat his father's sermons back, word for word, by the time he's three years old.

When his mother discovers this talent, she cautions him not to tell anyone, because some might think this gift comes from Satan. She tells him that Satan does not give good gifts, so this one comes from God, but that some people look so hard to find Satan, that they see him even where he isn't.

Later, when he's four, his father tells him that there are those who will tell him a thing is from God, when really, it's from Satan. When Zeck asks why they would do this, his father tells him that those people are deceived by their own desires. They want the world to be a better place, so they pretend that polluted things are pure, so they won't have to fear them.

Even at this young age, Zeck understands that each of his parents is warning him about the other. This is part of the terrible conflict that wars inside his young head, and leads him into conflict with his fellow young soldiers, when he is taken to the off-planet Battle School, where the Earth's most brilliant children are in training to fight the Formics, the alien race that has attacked the earth, and against which the entire human race is at war.

Zeck's religious background forces him to become a conscientious objector, and to refuse to participate in the Battle School's mock battles, making him first unpopular, and then a basic nonentity in the society of his fellows. Eventually he subtly attempts to foment a struggle between the various religious elements that still remain in the minds of the child soldiers which are humanity's best and brightest hope for survival.

How this dilemma is eventually resolved naturally involves Ender Wiggen, the most brilliant of all the children. This is a story with real heart at the heart of it. It may make you laugh; it may make you cry; it will definitely touch your heart, if you have one. This is one of the reasons I enjoy Orson Scott Card's writing so much.

Highly recommended, although it will make more sense if you've read Ender's Game. If you haven't, shame on you! Especially if you're a science fiction fan, but even if you aren't, Ender's Game is a book that everyone should read, and that pretty much everyone will probably enjoy. I doubt if you can pick it up without becoming instantly hooked. It's one of those books that if I pick it up even now, years after originally reading it, I'm instantly hooked, and want to read it again.

The Castle in the Forest by Norman Mailer

2008-04-13T20:49:00.000-07:00

The Castle in the Forest by Norman Mailer. New York: Random House, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-394-53649-1

The last Norman Mailer novel I tried to read was Ancient Evenings (1983), set in ancient Egypt. For me, it failed the Nancy Pearl rule of 50, though if I remember correctly, I may have made it through 70 or 80 pages before giving up on it. The only thing I really remember, aside from the fact that I hadn't been able to discern any semblance of a storyline, let alone a plot, by the time I stopped, was Mailer's enumeration of the Egyptians' reverence toward, and veneration of the seven (as I recall) bodily fluids, or physical substances which come out of a man. There are urine and feces, of course, and semen. Then there are saliva, tears, and phlegm. So what is the seventh one? If you've not read the book, you'll probably never guess: cerumen (more commonly known as ear wax!)

I don't know why, but that has stuck with me all these years since. But I'm supposed to be writing about The Castle in the Forest, which was supposed to be the first in a trilogy, but Mailer died shortly after this first volume was published this past year. Mailer seems to have reveled in controversial or off-the-wall kinds of topics. He wrote “New Journalism” style biographical treatments of people like Lee Harvey Oswald and Marilyn Monroe, although he gave the Monroe book the title Marilyn: A Novel Biography.

Now, in The Castle in the Forest, he tackles the childhood and antecedents of Adolf Hitler, albeit in avowedly fictional format. You know how most novels have some kind of a disclaimer, often printed in small print on the verso of the title page? Something like

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Well, here's what Mailer prints in THIS book:

The Castle in the Forest is a work of fiction closely based on history. A few of the names and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and in those cases, any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

So which events are which? Who knows? I don't have enough personal knowledge of Hitler's parents, grandparents, siblings, and the events surrounding his childhood, to have the slightest clue as to which might be based on fact, and which are entirely fictitious. Do you?

One of the more interesting facets of the book's narration, is that the protagonist, much of the time, is supernatural. He starts out as a member of the Nazi SS, an officer assigned to research Hitler's background and ancestry, to allow the Nazis to cover up any scandal, should any be found. Is there really a Jewish grandfather in Hitler's family tree? Was Hitler the result of incest on one side or the other (or both) of his family? This SS officer fills us in on aspects of his research.

But soon, suddenly, and without initial warning, the protagonist changes, and becomes an agent of the devil, a fallen angel, if you will, a supernatural being actively engaged in the battle against God, and the unfallen angels for the souls of men (and women, naturally). We spend a lot of time inside this supposedly evil angel's head, as he carefully guides the events of Hitler's youth (ha! that pun wasn't intended, but was irresistable). Only later does he explain that he was a fallen angel who had infiltrated and taken over the mind and body of the human agent, the SS officer.

This is one of those books that reads like it SHOULD or COULD have happened just as the author imagines it, even if in fact we have no proof that it actually DID happen that way. And, unlike his Ancient Evenings, this novel has a story, if not a plot, exactly. The macabre nature of the subject is enough to get us started, and Mailer keeps our interest along the way by imagining things in such a compelling manner that we feel compelled to keep turning the pages.

We, of course, know the outcome. We know that this evil angel will succeed beyond anyone's wildest dreams in creating one of the great human monsters of the ages. Unfortunately, we haven't really yet seen quite how that is going to happen, when the book ends. Young Adolf is 15 years old, just out of the Austrian equivalent of high school, according to Mailer, although the Wikipedia entry on him states that he dropped out without his certificate. In the book, Mailer has the young Adolf defecate on his graduation certificate in a drunken post-graduation revelry.

So, unfortunately, due to Mailer's less than timely demise, we'll never get to know what he had planned for the remaining books in the trilogy, how he planned to tell the rest of the Hitler story. Still, even if the topic appeals to the more prurient side of your nature, this is probably a book worth reading. Recommended for sophisticated readers (or even those who think they are, or ought to be).

The Spanish Bow by Andromeda Romano-Lax

2008-04-09T22:06:00.000-07:00

The Spanish Bow by Andromeda Romano-Lax. Orlando, Florida: Harcourt, Inc., 2007. ISBN: 978-0-15-101542-9

This novel is loosely, VERY loosely based on the life of Pablo Casals, according to the author's note, printed at the back of the book. In fact, her original thought was to write a nonfiction book about Casals. But she ended up writing this evocative novel instead. Why? You'll have to read her note.

One paragraph in the note definitely spoke to me. So much so, that I feel the need to quote it entire (oops, this is NOT the entire paragraph, but it's the part that counts):

I love collages. (Is it any wonder I found room in this book for Picasso?) I like the look of bits of newspaper and cloth stuck with paint, and violins shaped from torn paper, and familiar items rendered unfamiliar. This book is such a collage.

So why did I have to quote that passage? Because I too, love collages. In fact, I make collages myself. Not very good ones, I'll admit, but it's a lot of fun, whenever I can find the time, which isn't nearly as often as I'd like.

But back to the book. It's about a young boy growing up in Spain who almost accidentally receives an extraordinary gift from his deceased father: a bow. A bow too large for the violin, but perfect for the cello. And so the boy becomes a musician. He later forms an alliance, a partnership of sorts, with a somewhat older pianist, who is only very superficially modeled after the Spanish composer and pianist Isaac Albéniz.

Eventually they add a third member to their performing ensemble, a young Jewish woman, with whom they both more or less fall in love. Events march on, and eventually we inevitably find ourselves in the midst of the Spanish civil war, and all of the madness that it entailed. In one of the more remarkable passages, this now celebrated trio finds itself in the unenviable situation of providing a command performance for a (now famous) meeting between Hitler and Franco.

Unfortunately, things take a tragic turn, as you might expect, and the performance never happens. Neither of them gets the girl, and our cellist ends up exiled in Cuba, from whence he tells his remarkable story.

It's hard to say exactly what this book is about. It's about musicians, more than it's about music. But it's really about friendship and betrayal, love and desire, and being caught up in the sweep of historical events over which one has little or no control. Reading the book is a moving experience, and one that won't soon be forgotten. Definitely recommended, especially for those who enjoy novels with a musical subtext, as I do.

The Art of Innovation by Tom Kelley

2008-04-07T21:07:00.000-07:00

The Art of Innovation: Lessons in Creativity by IDEO, America's Leading Design Firm by Tom Kelley with Jonathan Littman. New York: Doubleday, 2001. ISBN: 0-385-49984-1

I read this book because of an article in Library Journal, one of the two general library news publications, and a publication which is “routed” through our department at the Washington State Library, where I work. By “routed,” I mean that a routing slip—a piece of paper with everyone's name printed on it—is stapled to the cover of each issue when it arrives, and it makes the rounds, with each person checking off his or her name when he or she finishes perusing the issue, then passing it on to someone else.

The article described the basic innovation strategy, or cycle espoused in the book, and attempted to apply it to libraries, and the projects that libraries undertake to serve their customers, patrons, or users, whatever term you wish to use. Here's that strategy in summary:

Understand
Observe
Visualize
Evaluate and refine
Implement

Each of these steps is fleshed out in the book, with many examples of how IDEO has put that particular aspect of the process into practice. If you're looking for ways to innovate more creatively, to come up with better ways of doing things, to be more innovative in what you and your organization do, and how you do it, this book will give you lots of ideas, lots of things to try, and plenty of suggestions. Recommended if you're interested in, or needing this kind of advice.

The Religion by Tim Willocks

2008-04-06T20:48:00.000-07:00

The Religion by Tim Willocks. New York: Sarah Crichton Books, 2006. ISBN: 978-0-374-24865-9

I guess everyone's heard of “chick flicks” and the presumably related term “chick-lit,” meaning movies or literature designed to appeal to women. So is there an equivalent form for the opposite sex? Guy-lit? Macho-lit? Whatever the appropriate term might be, this book could be an exemplar of the genre. It's definitely an adventure written by a man for men, and designed to appeal to men.

The only non-sequitur is the title. It's not clear how a book with the title The Religion is supposed to appeal to men, but I guess you just have to get beyond the title somehow. Of course, “The Religion” in this case is how The Order of the Knights of St. John the Baptist, also known as the Hospitallers, refer to themselves. Some call them the Sea Knights, and the Turks refer to them as the Hounds of Hell.

In 1565, the Grande Turk, Suleiman Shah, having already conquered Hungary, Syria, Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Transylvania, the Balkans, and most of North Africa, sets his sights on Malta, the last great bastion of the Knights. The Turks had defeated them in Rhodes some fifty years earlier, and are now determined to wipe them off the isle of Malta, sending the largest armada assembled since antiquity against them.

This is the backdrop against which this historical novel, said to be the first in a trilogy, is played. And although the novel does tell the story of the assault on Malta, like all good historical novels, that story is indeed only the backdrop of the real story, the plot, the tale that is told.

Which in this case involves a woman of nobility, returning to Malta in search of the illegitimate son of her youth. Guiding her is the hero of the tale, one Mattias Tannhauser, as he calls himself, although it is not quite the name he was born with, nor the name he previously bore as a Turkish janissary. It is a tale of love, of heroism, valor, gallantry, dark treachery, romance, and violence.

So why do I describe it as macho-lit? Because it begins with a scene of obscene violence. The Turks are invading Hungary, and their levies brutally slaughter the younger sisters, and rape the living, then dead mother of our young hero, when, at the age of 12, he is engaged in crafting a dagger in his father's blacksmithy. For the third and final quenching of the hot steel, he plunges it into the chest of the invading monster who has just slain his five-year old sister, in the middle of her song.

Because it is seemingly written to appeal to the blood lust and the physical lust so typically attractive to men. The battle scenes are described with the kind of detailed realism, redolent in blood, guts, and gore, which only a physician (as the author is) could probably manage so realistically. And the sex is generally portrayed from the man's point of view. Which isn't to say the book won't appeal to women too, but my guess is that men are more likely to relish it.

When next (after the opening scene) we encounter Mattias, it is 20 or more years later, and he has left the ranks of the janissaries, and has gone independent, a smuggler, a profiteer, a trader, a hedonist, enjoying life to the full, while trying to attain to at least a modicum of wealth. The Knights of St. John want his Turkish expertise and experience for their cause, and they use the previously mentioned woman as bait, tricking him into assisting them. It works, and it makes for a great story, as the uncommitted Tannhauser falls in love (or is it lust, at least at first?), and schemes to get himself and his charges off the island intact, and without loss of too much honor.

It may not be great literature, but it's definitely a great read. If you like historical fiction with plenty of blood, guts and gore, a little torture (not TOO much), plenty of suspense, good guys and bad guys, plus enthusiastic sex, and even a bit of music thrown in here and there, all set in a bona fide historical epic-making epoch, this book is for you. Recommended for guys (or gals) who want to revel in a goodly bit of macho lit.

Harm by Brian W. Aldiss

2008-04-02T22:29:00.000-07:00

Harm by Brian W. Aldiss. New York: Del Rey, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-345-49671-3

Brian Aldiss is another of those classic science fiction writers that I've been reading for almost my entire life. But kind of like Ben Bova, whose novel, Mercury, I panned back in 2006, none of his books every stuck that firmly with me. He certainly never became one of my favorite authors, whose every novel became a must read, to be waited for with anticipation and delight.

Still, his is a name to be reckoned with, and when I saw a new novel by him at the library, I took the time and energy to give it a read. A mistake? Not entirely, I suppose. What's the book about? It's very timely, I suppose. Our unfortunate protagonist is (like Aldiss), a British citizen, but unlike Aldiss, he's Muslim, son of an immigrant.

And now, apparently because he wrote a novel that, in a joking way, has one of its characters suggest that they should kill the prime minister, he's been incarcerated, held without any recourse, interrogated day and night, subjected to physical and psychological abuse, very much in what is probably only a slight extension of what's actually going on in the real world these days.

When he's knocked unconscious, or when he manages to fall asleep, he dreams the SciFi part of the story. He's an immigrant of another kind, a settler on an alien world which humanity has reached after a long interstellar journey. A seemingly, possibly intelligent alien species there has been almost, if not completely wiped out to guarantee the dominance of the newly arrived humans.

Human society there seems to be a parody of life on earth. A monster of a man is the fuhrer-like leader of society, and people, including our protagonist, seem to be mere shadows of regular people. The storyline, plot if you can call it that, of this alternate reality, is simple and fairly crude.

These episodes alternate with the cruel reality of life in a prison, with seemingly completely random and unjustified torture and interrogation continuing. It's a depressing book, not a pleasant or even particularly entertaining read. It does, I suppose, make a statement against our current irrational “war” against terrorism, and the ways in which it has undermined our traditional values and commitment to basic human rights.

The other story, on the alien world, could be seen as making a somewhat similar statement against our exploitation of the natural world, and again, of our cruel treatment of anything not exactly like ourselves. Unfortunately, neither statement nor story was entirely convincing. The book just isn't that compelling a read. Marginally recommended, especially for people interested in a book that is trying to make a political statement.

Glasshouse by Charles Stross

2008-03-30T21:23:00.000-07:00

Glasshouse by Charles Stross. New York: Ace Books, 2006. ISBN: 0-441-01403-8

It took quite a while for me to really get into this book. In fact, I almost abandoned it initially. I don't remember if I had reached the Nancy Pearl specified number of pages or not, before I made my decision to continue, but it was a near thing, indeed. The premises on which the book is based are just too bizarre, and not very well explained at the beginning. I don't feel that I have to have everything handed to me on a platter, everything neatly explained from the get-go, but there are limits to what I'll endure for the sake of a story, and this book definitely pushed those limits, strained them severely.

Here are a few terms and concepts one has to deal with in the first few pages. “The body she's wearing is roughly ortho, following the traditional human body plan.” Identity reindexing and rehabilitation. Memory edits and memory surgery. Reintegration. Postsurgical identity prosthesis. Assembler gates. T-gates and A-gates infected by redactionist worms. Orthohuman. Xenohuman drag. A totally foreign time-keeping system that uses measurements like gigaseconds, subseconds, diurns.

I'm not even sure that now, having actually finished the book, and having enjoyed it, I can really give you a very accurate account of the milieu, the universe in which the book is set. First off, it's in the far future, when humankind has long since reached the stars and set up an extensive galactic civilization.

People travel through the previously mentioned gates, which seem to be wormholes of some kind. In so doing, they are apparently disassembled down to the microscopic level, and reassembled at the other end. What's more, these same (I think) technologies can be used to store and dump one's memories, so that if an accident happens, or someone or something kills you, you can be resurrected from the time of your last memory backup.

The story quickly takes a quirky sideline, however, when the protagonist and his new friend both volunteer for some kind of historical experiment, in which they are ported into new bodies, and put into a re-creation of, to them, an almost prehistoric time period. A period which turns out to be sort of like our 1950's or as close to it as they can get. Their knowledge of such ancient times is somewhat spotty, at best, so the reproduction isn't entirely accurate.

But then it turns out that the people in charge of this supposed experiment are actually bad guys, trying to resurrect some horrible computer virus-like terror that caused a recent upheaval and breakdown of intergalactic civilization. And that our protagonist, unbeknownst to himself (or herself, since he finds himself in a female body inside the experiment) is actually a secret agent with his memories edited to protect him/herself, sent to infiltrate and stop this plot. At this point, the story gets quite a bit more interesting, and finally worth the time and effort you've put into it up until now.

So, yes, the book is recommended for SciFi fans, but be prepared to have to work for a while to get to the good stuff.

Judas [a compilation] by Marvin Meyer

2008-03-23T22:11:00.000-07:00

Judas: The Definitive Collection of Gospels and Legends about the Infamous Apostle of Jesus by Marvin Meyer. New York: HarperOne, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-06-134830-3

This is yet another attempt to assist in the rehabilitation of Judas Iscariot, the disciple who famously betrayed Jesus to the authorities. Meyer brings together in one volume all the relevant ancient texts about Judas, allowing the reader to more or less draw his or her own conclusions about the evidence, such as it is. Although not without his (Meyer's) own commentary and views on the various texts.

The book is primarily occasioned by the relatively recent release of the gnostic Gospel of Judas, which turns the traditional story upside down, maintaining that Judas was the disciple closest to Jesus, the only one who truly understood him, and that the betrayal was actually part of Jesus' secret plan, and that Judas was merely following orders.

The bulk of the evidence is against this idea, however attractive it may appear. Still, Meyer points out that the earliest Christian writings, those of Paul, never mention Judas in connection with the death or betrayal of Jesus. Paul merely says of those events that Jesus was "handed over” without naming who was responsible.

See 1 Corinthians 11:23-24, for instance, which Meyer translates as follows: “For I received from the Lord what I also handed over to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night when he was handed over, took bread, and after giving thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you. Do this in my memory” [emphasis added].

It is worth noting that the two Greek words used in this passage are both derivations of the Greek verb, paradidonai, which although usually translated as “betray” when referring to the act of Judas in the gospels, actually has a broader, more neutral, even positive meaning when used in other contexts.

In other passages, according to Meyer, Paul indicates that it was either Jesus who handed himself over (Galations 2:19-20) or God who handed Jesus over (Romans 8:31-32). Since the four gospels were written some years later than Paul's epistles, Meyer suggests the possibility that they represent a later tradition or addition to the story, as the early Christians attempted to distance themselves from the Jewish faith, and from the Jews.

Judas--the very name is equivalent in sound and meaning to “Jew.” In this theory, the demonization of Judas became part of the anti-Semitic tradition that arose out of later Christianity. This trend is clearly delineated in the later apocryphal writings collected by Meyer. The further away from the actual events you go, the more diabolical and twisted the portrayal of Judas becomes.

The actual Gospel of Judas itself makes for somewhat difficult reading. Much of its gnostic philosophy seems quite alien to the traditional gospels and their message. And even more so are some of the other gnostic writings that are presented here, such as the Dialogue of the Savior, or The Concept of Our Great Power.

More interesting to me, albeit less believable, as Meyer points out, are the versions of the Judas story presented in other, later, apocryphal writings, such as The Arabic Infancy Gospel, the Narrative of Joseph of Arimathea, the gospels of Bartholemew, Nicodemus, and other similar texts. More interesting, because I'd not read most of them, and it is a valuable exercise to read them all in one collection together, pretty much everything written about Judas in these early Christian writings.

In the end, the evidence is fairly inconclusive. Those who believe in some version of Biblical inerrancy will discount any versions of the story not in accordance with the gospels, while those of a more open mind will be intrigued by the new interpretations of the Judas story made at least possible if not entirely plausible by the ideas presented here. In the end, there is no way to know the definitive truth of what happened, but Marvin Meyer presents a useful compendium of texts, along with intriguing commentary on them.

My only real complaint about the book is that the notes, presented at the end of the volume, should, in my view, have been presented as footnotes throughout the text, instead. The notes are often indispensable reading, and having them right on the pages to which they corresponded would have been much more convenient than constantly having to flip between the page one is reading, and the end notes.

The books is definitely recommended for anyone with an interest in the topic. Others might find it slow going.

Postsingular by Rudy Rucker

2008-03-16T21:22:00.000-07:00

Postsingular by Rudy Rucker. New York: Tor, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-7653-1741-4

This is a wild and wacky SciFi romp through the realms of nanotechnology and artificial intelligence. I've not read any Rudy Rucker before, but obviously, I probably should have. He is said to have won the Philip K. Dick award not once, but twice, and this story does justice to that kind of reputation.

The book does have the appearance of having started out as a short story or two, which then get expanded into a short, albeit, novel-length effort. Each chapter introduces new and stranger characters than the previous one. First we have a warped Silicon-Valley type genius (warped because he accidentally killed his best friend when he was 17) who invents the “nants,” intelligent nanobots, which threaten to take over the earth.

Literally take over, as in devour the earth and turn it into billions upon billions more nants, running a simulated earth, that their creator promises will be “a virtually identical simulation of Earth. Virtual Earth. Vearth for short. Each living Earth creature gets its software-slash-wetware ported to an individually customized agent inside the Vearth simulation.” Supposedly no one will notice any difference, except that you now have eternal life inside the simulation.

This diabolical plot is stopped, reversed actually, partway through the process, when another computer programmer, co-worker actually, works with his autistic son to loose a virus on the nants that literally forces them to run the process backwards.

This all happens in the first two chapters, in a mere 36 pages. That's when it starts to get interesting. Next come the orphids. Orphids are like nants, only better. They “self-reproduce using nothing but dust floating in the air. They're not destructive. Orphids are territorial; they keep a certain distance from each other. They'll cover Earth's surface, yes, but only down to one or two orphids per square millimeter.”

Further, “Orphids use quantum computing; they propel themselves with electrostatic fields; they understand natural language; and they're networked via quantum entanglement. . . And as the orphidnet emerges, we'll get intelligence amplification and superhuman AI.”

Essentially, it's like a virtual Internet that exists everywhere—on your skin, in the air. Everyone connected to everything, all the time. All information that ever existed immediately accessible via your brain. How people actually live and interact within this new paradigm is a good part of what the rest of the book is about. It's very much in the cyber-punk kind of tradition.

Of course, there's also lots of sexual interactions going on at the same time. More lust than lechery, but enough of both to go around. The sex is kind of soap-operish, but it does seem true enough to the kind of characters Rucker is depicting.

And there's a good story line, with a fair amount of suspense to keep you going, wondering if the heroes and heroines will be able to save the world, or if everyone and everything will get swallowed up by the latest attack of the nano-machines.

Definitely recommended, especially for cyber-punk fans. Amazingly, you can read this ENTIRE novel online, if you have the patience to do so, at the author's website.

The Chess Machine by Robert Löhr

2008-03-09T21:55:00.000-07:00

The Chess Machine by Robert Löhr, translated by Anthea Bell. New York: The Penguin Press, 2007. ISBN: 978-1-59420-126-4

First, let me congratulate the translator, as her work is superb. I never once even noticed, or realized I was reading a translation until now, when I began typing the bibliographic information.

Almost everyone has heard of the “Mechanical Turk,” a chess-playing automaton from the late 18^th century, when automata on a much smaller scale were immensely popular—little twittering birds, dolls, clocks, and other various mechanical figures. The Turk, a larger than human-sized figure, actually played chess, and defeated almost all challengers.

It was a hoax, of course. A human being is concealed inside the cabinet, and operates the mechanical man mechanically. This historical novel chronicles the early years of the automaton, it's maker, the Baron Wolfgang von Kempelen, and the dwarf Löhr invents to be its first inside operator. Nothing much is known about this early period in the automaton's existence, so Löhr is free to imagine it as he pleases.

Which he does, very successfully, and inventively. He creates real people, with real emotions, motivations, and interactions, and has us, his readers, completely caught up in the story, which seems almost entirely believable, although the author admits in his note at the end, that von Kempelen probably wouldn't have stooped to covering up a murder just to further his career, as he portrays him doing in the novel. In the story, it is the Turk itself that commits the murder (assisted by his manipulator, of course).

There, in one sentence, I've referred to the automaton as both “itself” and “him.” I'll admit, I did it deliberately, since even though there is no doubt of the Turk's completely mechanical and false nature in the story, the device does manage to take on a kind of personality.

This is not, perhaps, a masterpiece of literature, but it is a good, solid, historical novel, and will be enjoyed by anyone who is interested in mechanical devices, hoaxes, and the like. Definitely recommended.

Quantico by Greg Bear

2008-03-02T20:54:00.000-08:00

Quantico by Greg Bear. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Vanguard Press, 2007. ISBN: 978-1-59315-445-5

Now THIS is a truly scary novel. Set in the near immediate future, it imagines how a biological terrorist might plan and stage a serious attack. In fact, it purports (fictionally, of course) to tell us who “Amerithrax” was. As you know, they've never yet caught or uncovered the person who mailed Anthrax to various offices in 2001.

But this scare goes much beyond that. Ultimately, a rogue former FBI agent plans to unleash a much scarier threat into the world, a variant of bovine spongiform encephalopathy, mad cow disease. Only this variant causes memory loss. People who are infected don't remember much of anything from more than a year or two before. They still have their personalities, their language, habits, skills, just no memory of who or what they were.

And, after testing the virus on an unsuspecting small town in the midwest, the terrorist's next target is Mecca at the height of the Haj, the annual pilgrimage that brings hundreds of thousands into the area.

Our heroes are a couple of FBI agents, one just out of the academy, whose father, a veteran agent himself, is one of the first victims of the memory erasing virus, and the other, a battle-hardened weary woman who has been tracking this rogue agent across the country and across the years.

Mix in a political climate in which the FBI is about to literally be shut down and eliminated, so distrustful is the current administration in the White House. Add in various other covert law enforcement agencies all mixing it up to their own advantage whenever possible.

This is not only science fiction, it's a thriller, par excellence. A real barn burner of a page turner that keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. Highly recommended.

Emperor by Stephen Baxter

2008-02-24T21:47:00.000-08:00

Emperor (Time's Tapestry: Book 1) by Stephen Baxter. New York: Ace Books, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-441-01466-8

All too often I find my reading habits controlled or at least strongly influenced by what books my local branch library chooses to put on the new book display. Whenever I'm in the library, I take a look to see if there's anything of interest there, on that ubiquitous new books shelf. Now, having picked up and having read this book, Emperor, which is the first in a new series by Baxter, I went back and checked the science fiction author index here on my blog, and the last book I read by Baxter was ALSO the first in a series, but a series, the rest of which I somehow never got around to reading. Most likely because they never showed up on the new books shelf.

My eternal lament: so many books, so little time. So I read and blogged Coalescent: Destiny's Children, Book 1 (2003), back in 2005, but I've never read the rest of the series, Exultant (2004), Transcendent (2005), and Resplendent (2006). My, this guy is prolific! And apparently a really fast writer. Here Emperor has a 2007 copyright date listed, although apparently it was actually released in July, 2006 (that's a bit strange, although I'm guessing the 2007 date is the U.S. copyright, and that the July release was in Great Britain, since Baxter is a British writer), and already two of its 3 sequels are in print: Conqueror (February, 2007) and Navigator (July, 2007), with the fourth title, Weaver, scheduled for release sometime this month, and already available for pre-order on Amazon.

Emperor says right on the cover that Time Tapestry is “An alternate history epic,” but so far, I'm not quite sure what's alternate about it. Maybe I'm ignorant, but reading this book, I had no idea what aspects of it, if any, constitute alternate history. I'm familiar with the broad outlines of British history only, and if there are any significant events in this book that differ from how it really happened, I didn't recognize them.

Other than the mysterious prophecy, uttered at the very beginning of the novel by a woman who falls into a trance during labor, a prophecy she babbles out in Latin, a language she doesn't even know. A prophecy which has a direct quote (when translated into English) from the American Declaration of Independence (!). But that seems like no more than local color, to me. Every novel has fictional events in it. That's what fiction is, by definition! Baxter provides no explanation (science fictional or otherwise) for how this prophecy was generated in this apparently supernatural manner.

The rest of the story is the tale of a single family of native Britons, Brigantians by tribe, through four centuries of Roman rule in Britain. One branch of the family makes it all the way to wealth and Rome, returning to Britain several generations later only to be thrown into abject slavery of the worst kind, the prophecy lost. I don't quite comprehend the point or purpose of it all.

Baxter's writing seems a bit facile to me, which is born out at least somewhat by his prolific volume. I haven't read enough of his works to make a definitive assessment, but while eminently readable, so far I'd have to judge them peripheral, not essential reading for current science fiction fans. Reluctantly recommended.

The Accidental Time Machine by Joe Haldeman

2008-02-17T20:35:00.000-08:00

The Accidental Time Machine by Joe Haldeman. New York: Ace Books, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-441-01499-6

I am continually amazed by the creative genius of artists and writers. Time travel is a venerable plot device in science fiction, running back at least as far as The Time Machine by H.G. Wells, first published in 1895. Haldeman's title is even a takeoff on Wells' title, merely inserting the word “accidental” into the title. One might think that all there is to be said on this topic has already been said, many times. But no, here is another time travel story just as fresh and new as any of the others, and more than many.

Since Wells, countless other authors have explored the idea of time travel, with much time spent on the inevitable paradoxes that result. Can one go back in time and change the past? An interesting aspect of both the Wells and Haldeman novels is that the time travelers travel only into the future, not into the past, although Well's traveler does use the time machine to travel back to the point of his original departure.

Haldeman's time traveler, Matt Fuller by name, travels exclusively into the future, his machine not being capable of travel in the other direction. One of his goals as he keeps hopping further and further into the future, is to locate a time period in which the ability to travel backwards in time has been discovered and perfected, such that he can return to his own time and place once again.

Matt indeed discovers his time machine by accident. He is a graduate assistant working for an MIT physics professor. He has built a photon calibrator that is supposed to supply one reference photon per unit of time, but instead, he discovers that whenever he activates it, it moves forward into time. The first time it reappears only a second or so later (in the future). The next time, about 12 seconds. Then a little less than 3 minutes, and then a little over 34 minutes.

So each time the machine is activated, it moves forward into time about 12 times longer than the time before. It also moves slightly sideways in space, so by the time Matt uses it to travel several hundred years into the future, he is moved up into Maine. By this time, society has changed significantly from when he left, having devolved into a kind of primitive Christian post-apocalyptic society, at least in northern New England where he is.

Eventually, Matt is hundreds of thousands of years in the future. His adventures are elucidated in an eminently readable and entertaining fashion. Naturally, he eventually meets a girl, his nearly perfect girl Friday, and together they continue to explore the future. So will they find a way back to where they started? You'll have to read the book to find out. Enthusiastically recommended for all fans of time travel stories. This one rates up there as good as just about any of the myriads of other time travel tales I've read and enjoyed over the years.

The Piano Tuner by Daniel Mason

2008-02-10T19:31:00.000-08:00

The Piano Tuner by Daniel Mason. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2002. ISBN: 0-375-41465-7

This is a “Heart of Darkness” kind of story, only the setting is Burma in the late 19^th century, when the British are still attempting to consolidate their influence over the region and its indigenous rulers.

In the story, a British doctor, living deep within the Burmese territory, is having more success negotiating deals with the natives than is the British army and its officers. He is so uncommonly successful that the hierarchy back in London cater to his every whim, even to the point of shipping a French Erard grand piano all the way from London to his remote outpost in the Burmese jungle, despite the immense hardships and expense this entails.

Naturally, the piano arrives out of tune, and is later damaged by bullet fire. So the doctor sends for a piano tuner, and not just any old piano tuner, but the foremost expert on Erard pianos, one Edgar Drake, living a happy but quiet life with his wife in London. It is Drake's odyssey to the remote regions of Burma that becomes the primary focus of our story.

Drake himself is caught up in the mystery and allure of the East; by the time he finally reaches the doctor, and makes the necessary repairs, he is caught. Somehow, he can't seem to summon the will to start his journey back home. First he stays because all pianos need to “settle in” after tuning, and need a second going over after a couple of weeks. But the two weeks go by, and Drake still has no impetus to leave. Before he (or we) seem to realize it, three months have gone by, and he is still there.

Meanwhile, the British are beginning to have their doubts about the good doctor, and consequently about his piano tuner, too. Is the doctor really on their side? Or is he setting himself up as a power in his own right, not necessarily in line with the British goals and aspirations for the region?

While not directly forbidding Drake from traveling the last leg of his journey through the jungle to reach the doctor, it has become apparent that they intend to send him back to London, instead. The doctor sends one of his own native “messengers” to escort Drake to him, against the express wishes of the British. Attending them is Khin Myo, the woman assigned to him as his . . . servant? companion? from the time he arrived in Mandalay.

Naturally, he eventually falls in love with Khin Myo, but her role is never entirely clear, certainly not to him. Is she is the doctor's lover already? And yet he (Drake) has no intention of being unfaithful to his wife, to whom he writes occasional lengthy letters. He seems to have fallen unwittingly under the spell of the Orient itself, as expressed in the beauty (and squalor) of Mandalay, and the jungles beyond, a beauty of which Khin Myo is but a personification.

Eventually the British take action, suspecting the worst of the errant doctor AND his piano tuner. The story hurls itself headlong into its seemingly inevitable and yet unfathomable tragic ending.

The incongruous nature of the basic elements of the story—a piano tuner in the jungles of 19^th century Burma—makes for much of the ambiance, as do the thoughts and experiences of the piano tuner. We experience the narrative directly from his perspective, after all. We experience what he experiences. An unusual, but evocative tale. Definitely recommended.

The Pillars of the Earth and Stonehenge

2008-02-03T19:06:00.000-08:00

Stonehenge by Bernard Cornwell. New York: HarperTorch, 2000. ISBN (paperback): 0-06-109194-4. The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. New York: Signet, 1989. No ISBN listed.

Here we have two great historical novels of England by two great historical novelists. Ken Follett, formerly famous for his spy novels, has turned his hand to medieval history, writing a fictional account of the building of a great English cathedral, during that long period when King Stephen and the Princess Maud fought over the throne. Of course, the story goes back further than that, and takes place over a period of two or more generations.

Follett is a master storyteller, par excellence, and the reader is captured, heart, mind and soul, from the very first page. Played out against the backdrop of civil war, the more immediate story involves a struggle between good and evil. First there is pious Prior Philip, against faithless power-hungry Bishop Waleran. Then the wicked and ruthless Hamleigh family, who dispossess the local earl and his family. Richard and Aliena, the earl's children, are left to make their own way in the world.

And there is also the builder, Tom, and his family. Eventually, it's his adopted son, Jack, who actually finishes the cathedral. Jack and Aliena eventually fall in love, have children, but can't get married, since Aliena was previously married to Tom's son by birth, Alfred, slow, sly and mean, and Waleran blocks any attempt at an annulment. Lots of good vs. evil conflicts happening, everywhere you look.

Follett has recently written a long-awaited sequel, World Without End. Since its release, both books are again very popular in the nation's public libraries, with multiple holds on both. I'll have to wait a good while to get my hands on World Without End, I'm afraid.

Stonehenge takes us back to a much earlier, prehistoric period in Britain's history, and chronicles the building of the greatest of all the circular stone circles found scattered across Britain. Bernard Cornwell is actually the more established author, in terms of writing historical fiction, with his series of novels retelling the Arthurian mythos, and his Saxon Stories, set in King Alfred's time, not to mention his over twenty Sharpe's novels. You can find reviews of the Arthurian books and some of the Saxon tales here on my blog. Check out the "other fiction" index.

But with Stonehenge, he has not even the luxury of any existing history or mythos on which to build. Other than archaeological evidence from the period, he has to make it all up. And while he does a darn good job of it, writing a story that is believable—this could indeed be how it might have, how it could have happened—with characters almost equally compelling to those of Follett, I wasn't quite as happy with this book.

Mainly because the primitive society he depicts is SO utterly savage and uncivilized. Although I'm sure it probably was, it is not as pleasant to read about. Not to say that the “civilized” evil in Follett's book is any more pleasant, really. But I find myself wanting to read and reread sections of Pillars, while I don't think I'll be tempted to reread Stonehenge any time soon. Not that I regret having read it, not at all. It's just not as enjoyable.

That said, both books are recommended. Follett is HIGHLY recommended, while Cornwell, in this instance, is more neutrally presented. Both are well worth reading, but Pillars is essential reading, in my view, while Stonehenge is optional.

The Gospel According to Judas by Jeffrey Archer

2008-01-27T22:08:00.000-08:00

The Gospel According to Judas by Benjamin Iscariot Recounted by Jeffrey Archer with the Assistance of Francis J. Maloney. New York: St. Martin's Press, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-312-37520-1

This book is deliberately presented in a way that seems intended to deceive. The author, Jeffrey Archer, even makes the claim that it's not a novel, but a gospel. Yeah, right, whatever. It is fiction, regardless of what he calls it, and not even very good fiction, at that.

What makes it so potentially confusing to the reader who casually picks it up, is the relatively recent rediscovery, translation from Coptic, and release of the Gnostic Gospel of Judas (in 1999) by the National Geographic Society. So naturally, if one picks up this book, one might think the two are in some way connected. But they're not. In fact, Archer (or Maloney, his pet expert) makes a point of repudiating that gospel by stating in one of the scholarly notes at the end of the book that “The Gospel According to Judas recorded here was not inspired by this text," referring to the Coptic, Gnostic Gospel of Judas.

Additionally confusing is the format and appearance of the story as printed, published and presented to the public. He (or his publisher) puts it in a fancy fakey binding replete with cream paper and a cloth ribbon. The text is divided into chapters and verses, just like the traditional Bible, even though this format has no real meaning in modern times, and makes the narrative more difficult to read.

So where DOES Archer get his alternative version of the story? He made it up out of whole cloth, apparently. In his version, Judas is tricked into betraying Jesus by one of the scribes. It was never his intention to do so. Further, he doesn't kill himself, as stipulated in the traditional gospels. Instead, he flees to join the Essenes in their desert stronghold, where his son finds him still living many years later. He is eventually crucified by the Romans during the Jewish uprising around AD 70.

All though the gospel story as supposedly told by Benjamin Iscariot, the son of Judas Iscariot, based on what his father told him, the real authors, Archer and Maloney, provide citations to the traditional Bible, the existing gospels, Old Testament scriptures, and even from the Apocryphal books Tobit and Judith. Much, if not most of the story is taken pretty much verbatim from the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

But guess what: Where the author inserts his own version of the story, when Judas is assigned to roles or parts that never appeared in the original gospels, or where the story markedly diverges from the traditional version, no citations appear here! What gives Archer the right to pick and choose which parts of the traditional story he will accept, and which parts he will reject or change, is not clear at all.

It would be one thing if the book was presented as a novel, as fiction. But no, everything about it, including the author's own remarks about it, give the impression that it is the gospel truth. "It is a gospel, not a short story and not a novel. It is 22,000 words in length," Archer said, as cited in an ABC News story. And in a time where the very word “gospel” carries the additional meaning of something unquestionably true, this comes across as the height of arrogance.

What's worse, he doesn't even do a very good job of it at times. For example, when he retells the story of the paralytic who was lowered down through the roof, because there was no way to get him through the crowds of people surrounding Jesus, Archer puts this story in a synagogue, which hardly seems credible. The only gospel writer who sets a location for the story, Mark (Chapter 2), puts Jesus in a house (King James Version), or “at home” according to other translations. To imagine that folks would have torn up the roof of a synagogue to let the sick man down seems pretty far fetched and unlikely. And what purpose does this change from other versions of the story serve? None, really that I can see.

No, unless anything connected to the Bible is your thing, regardless of its credibility, I wouldn't bother with this novel masquerading as a gospel. Definitely not recommended.

The Gladiator by Harry Turtledove

2008-01-23T20:10:00.000-08:00

The Gladiator by Harry Turtledove. New York: Tor, 2007. ISBN: 978-0-7653-1486-4

I'm confused. This book is, as it says on the cover, “A Novel of Crosstime Traffic,” but on the title page it says: “Crosstime Traffic—Book Four.” According to my entry on The Disunited States of America, IT was Book Four. And indeed, Disunited States IS the fourth title listed in the series on the Harry Turtledove website. So why The Gladiator claims to be only Book 4, when it appears to me that it is Book 5, is indeed, confusing.

Oh well, who cares which number it is in the series? It's well worth reading, regardless of where it comes in the sequence, and since all of these books stand equally well on their own, it doesn't matter which order you read them in, or even if you read them all, or not.

According to the Turtledove website (which is not maintained by Turtledove, himself, incidentally),

This series will cover the adventures of the employees of Crosstime Traffic, an organization which makes its money by sending traders to various timelines to take advantage of the differences between the timelines. Each work will be set in a different timeline and focus on different characters. The protagonists in each story will be teenagers who must come to terms with their new environments.

For a description of some of the timelines already visited, read my blog entry on The Disunited States. I have yet to read In High Places, presumably Book 3. This book, whether four or five, involves a timeline in which the Soviet Union won the Cold War, instead of the other way around. The book's action is set in The People's Republic of Italy, and all of Europe, and even the United States, are under the domination of the Soviets.

Interestingly, the series description I quoted above is already out of date, since in this volume, the primary characters are a couple of teenagers who are native to this alternate reality, rather than teens visiting from the home timeline, as in previous volumes. So these teens don't need to “come to terms with their new environments,” but instead, having found out out about the alternate reality, they have to learn to deal with that knowledge, and the knowledge that a better, albeit also imperfect, way of life exists elsewhere.

Once again, the story is well written, the characters engaging, and the result is well worth reading. Recommended for fans of the series, and especially recommended for teens, although most adults will probably enjoy it too.