oxfordhacker

I've now finally finished reviewing all the books I read on holiday, carrying me nearly a third of the way through NaBloPoMo. Also, never one to under-complicate matters, I've submitted slightly edited versions of them to Amazon, on the grounds that I do occasionally find their reviews helpful so I should give something back. I've actually enjoyed writing them, though I take far too much time on each one. I had hoped that a combination of daily posting and morning pages might help cure me of my tendency to over-think and tweak, but this does not (yet) seem to be the case. I suppose I am able to get them done faster when I need to finish before going out, so the problem is more that I let them expand to fill the available space. Nevertheless I plan doing some more this month, and perhaps the chance of getting my Amazon review rank down into 5 digits will spur me on beyond that...

It's certainly made me think more about what I've been reading, as has sea_bright's comment that I didn't seem to expect to like most of the books I've reviewed. In fact that was more-or-less by design: faced with such a wide variety I decided to make the most of it. Before the holiday my reading had been dropping off. Though I enjoyed the books I did read, there weren't many that enthused me enough to give them a go, so I made a conscious effort to use Reading Week to recapture my enthusiasm and broaden my horizons. Obviously, since then I've been spending my spare evenings reviewing rather than reading, but at least the enthusiasm has returned. The horizon-broadening aspect has been less successful, though. If anything, I reinforced my ideas of what I enjoy and don't, which I suppose is useful even if it wasn't really the plan. For example, most (but not all) of the books that I enjoyed most have a sense of humour: not that it's very surprising that that should be a quality that I value. More significantly, though, I confirmed that my tastes lie in the direction that they always have: weird books. I don't much mind whether it's science fiction, fantasy, horror, or one of their many cross-overs, subgenres, mash-ups and hybrids (call it speculative fiction, for want of a better term). The important thing is that it's not realistic.

What I'm looking for is the unexpected. By way of counter-example (and with an apologetic hat tip to sea_bright for picking on her favorite genre), consider crime fiction. I'm occasionally lured into reading some by an intriguing premise on the back cover, but am almost always left disappointed. Typically I like the set up of the mystery ('Who is killing people and leaving little dolls by their bodies, and why?') but the resolution is invariably disappointing ('It's a murderer. He's doing it because he's mad.') But of course it's a madman! It literally couldn't have been anything else. In weird fiction, there could be any number of explanations: sinister rites, aliens, time-travellers, anything. That's not a great example, I grant you, but hopefully it illustrates my point. Essentially, I suppose, I'm interested in plot over character, and speculative fiction offers a wider range of plots, or at least (if one accepts that there aren't really that many to be had) a wider range of possible twists. That also explains why I'm less fond of 'straight' fantasy, space opera or whatever, because they can often feel, in their ways, as limiting as any other genre. And, while I'm at it, suggests an explanation for my aversion to spoilers, and rewatching things: ruin the surprise, and you ruin the thing I would otherwise have enjoyed most. Ironically for someone who's spent his last ten evenings sitting on the sofa blogging, I'm a neophile at heart.

Warning: The following spoiler warning contains mild spoilers.

Warning: The following review contains mild spoilers. Nothing specific, I just mention that the book doesn't contain any surprises at all. Does that count? If so, my apologies.

Synopsis: It's 1588, Elizabeth is on throne in London, and the ambitious young Michael Deven has just landed a plum job in her private guard. Meanwhile in the stygian city beneath London, Lady Lune finds herself in the notoriously vast bad books of the faerie queen Invidiana. Seeking excitement and prospects, Michael starts working for Walsingham, Elizabeth's spy-master, who has inferred the existence of a mysterious hidden player in the intrigue of the court and wants Michael to help find out who it is. Fearing for her life, Lune is persuaded by Invidiana's sinister lieutenant to infiltrate Elizabeth's court in mortal guise. Can you guess where this might be leading?

Review: I must confess that this is another book that I wouldn't have read were it not for the spec. fic. elements. My knowledge of history is pretty ropey, thanks to a combination of poor teaching and a basic lack of interest. I therefore don't tend to go for historical fiction, for fear that it will name-drop people, places or events that I should recognise but don't, making me feel like I'm missing something and leaving me unsatisfied and frustrated. I had hoped that this book would be more accessible to me, for a couple of reasons. One is that's it's alternate history, which means that at least some of it would be as new to every reader as to me. The other is that it's hopefully written to be accessible to faerie fans as well as history buffs, and therefore wouldn't make too many assumptions of prior knowledge. I turned out to be right: it was unsatisfying and frustrating for entirely different reasons...
The story has little action, being mostly politics or investigation in one or other court. That's not an intrinsic problem, but it founders here because there are so few surprises. Ironically, the central duality (the strap-line is 'A great light casts a great shadow') is the book's downfall: Invidiana and her cronies are obviously essentially evil, Michael, Lune and their allies (including Queen Elizabeth) are equally obviously fundamentally decent. There's not much potential for character drama or political intrigue when each character is clearly either trustworthy or not. Even the characters who are more than they seem reveal this fact and pick a side almost immediately. The investigative elements too lacked excitement, as the protagonists just find the right people, ask the right questions, and are rewarded with the next bit of the answer. It had the feel of a computer RPG where you complete a quest simply by speaking to characters in the correct order. The end result is a book that's perfectly well written and undemanding, but still not worth the effort. It felt like a slow train ride to a dull destination, and while some might have enjoyed the historical scenery on the way, I just wanted the journey to be over. So, can historical political fiction be improved be the addition of faeries? My answer is: not nearly enough.

Suggested pull quotes for the next edition:

Combines the plot surprises of historical fiction with the gritty realism of faerie stories!
or
Readers of Laura K. Hamilton's faerie fiction will find a refreshing lack of multi-coloured penis shenanigans!

Illustrative excerpt from Amazon reviews:

* * *
If you like the Elizabethan period or are interested in faerie and folklore then this book should be a happy balance for you as it provides both.

Synopsis: Poor Todd is the youngest boy in Prentisstown, a primitive, isolated village surrounded by swamps infested with dangerous animals and (maybe) genocidal aliens, and that's not even close to the worst bit. You see, just after he was born, a biological attack by the aforementioned aliens apparently left all the women dead, and all the men and animals uncontrollably broadcasting their thoughts to anyone nearby. Oh, and in a month's time he's due for the village's secret rite of passage into manhood, and whatever it entails, it certainly left his former childhood companions oddly changed and distant. Frankly, Todd is fucked. The only thing in his favour is the fact that this is a Young Adult book, so while the Noise produced by a men-only village of telepaths is pretty disturbing, I can't help but feel that an adult version would be so much worse.

Review: We're very much inside Todd's head throughout the book, and he's a distinctive narrative voice. The writing is colloquial and idiosyncratically spelt, reflecting his lack of schooling (the sinister mayor of Prentisstown disapproves of education). Initially Todd knows next to nothing of the outside world, and precious little even of the village and its inhabitants, and though this may be a convenient story-telling device, it's also a plausible character note. After all, given his environment, he's well-practised at avoiding ugly truths and hiding his thoughts, even from himself. This was one of the few books that a substantial number of people read on our holiday, and while some found this writing style grating, the majority (including me) seemed to enjoy it. The setting is unconventional and pleasingly fluid, weaving together elements of SF, fantasy and horror; there's even a Western feel to the low-tech land of villages separated by wilderness.
The central concept of a telepathic world is handled powerfully and convincingly: calm, disciplined people can communicate in sentences, but crowds produce a baffling cacophony and when emotions run high, thoughts fragment into uncontrolled phrases and images. The different people and villages that we encounter display a credible range of coping mechanisms, at both personal and societal levels. And of course there are the telepathic animals: Todd's faithful dog Manchee blurts urgent verbs and nouns, birds squawk "Where's my food? Where's my house?", crocodiles float muttering "Bone... Flesh...", and the sheep just repeat "Sheep"... It's a likable, vivid, action-packed book, and though it's practically one long chase scene it doesn't get repetitive or wearying and allows its characters time to reflect, learn and grow (whether they want to or not). Some of the best Young Adult fiction I've read, and despite that brand I had (and have) no compunction in recommending it to all but the most curmudgeonly.

Suggested pull quotes for the next edition:

Sure to be a hit with the ever-growing 'knifecriming teenager' demographic!
or
It will leave you shouting "Poo, Todd! Poo!"

Warning: That second quote is absolutely true. Well, that's the effect that it had on our group, anyway.

Illustrative excerpt from Amazon reviews:

* * * * *
The book made sense and the plot progression was fabulous as our young male hero left Prentisstown. The dog also became less annoying...

Synopsis: This is a 400 page book structured as an unedited walkthrough for fiendishly complicated adventure game, written by a heavy-metal-loving 20-something slacker with a short attention span, sketchy language skills and - literally - a malfunctioning Caps Lock key. He writes in a stream-of-consciousness style, incorporating glimpses of his life, sometimes attempting to draw parallels with the game in a bid to illuminate one or the other.

Review: From the central conceit, I expected it to be an artfully post-modern blurring of the boundaries between game and reality, or unreadably horrible. In fact it's neither, just a sweet book that reads very much like it's from the Young Adult section. There are no SF elements (except for some aspects of the game) and not much in the way of action (even the in-game fights are mostly described obliquely). It's a challenge to review, because although I actually rather liked it, I find it hard to explain why it wasn't as tooth-grindingly ghastly as it sounds. I'd certainly recommend that you read a few pages before purchasing, in case your tolerance is differently calibrated. I can at least reassure you that it is mercifully free from 1337 or txt spk, and the plausibly patchy grammar and spelling didn't set my pedant sense tingling, perhaps because they're clearly to establish character. Well worth a try, not least because I'd love to hear someone else's take on it...

My pull quotes for the next edition:

Sure to 'pwn' the best-seller lists!
or
This year's most moving walkthrough!

Illustrative excerpt from Amazon reviews:

*
If you like the idea of reading the diary of a boring nerd, then go ahead this is perfect.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I've just spent a week in a 'cottage' in Wales with a bunch of fun people, with the explicit purpose of doing nothing but reading. Unimaginatively, we refer to this gathering as Reading Week. Disappointingly, we have yet to hold it in Reading. Nevertheless, it was great fun. While the 'reading only' rule was strictly enforced (i.e. people caught doing anything else were accused of 'sullying the purity of the holiday'), some non-book-related notable events occurred which deserved such immortality as I can confer:

• I always enjoy conversations with Tom, and since he demonstrated this week that he also makes an excellent spaghetti bolognaise, it is clear that he will be my first port of call should I become gay (perhaps as a result of cosmic rays, The Bomb, or being bitten by a radioactive homosexual), despite his hobo-esque beard. Our compatibility became clear when, inspired by a discussion of the seamier side of fan-fic, he and I simultaneously blurted out "It will take an Mpregnation of millions to hold us back". Two minds with but a single disturbing thought.



• All the food we had was awesome, and I can say that without bias as someone who chose to do extra washing up rather than prepare any myself. However, one particularly impressive feat is worthy of special mention: Angharad, Tristam and squigglyruth responding to a lack of salad dressing (and appropriate ingredients for making such) with overwhelming force and produced nine different improvised dressings, served in an equally improvised double-blind taste test. The sheer entertainment value more than made up for the fact that they ranged in taste from 'pretty OK' to 'like petrol'.



• Speaking of awesome food, another highlight was Tristam and Tom's ham preparation competition. Not only did it remind me of the wonderful (and ham-heavy) Pirates! books, and give me the opportunity to describe the contest as ham-to-ham combat, but the results were so very nice that we shoe-horned in an extra meal between lunch and dinner just to demolish them as quickly as possible.



• There was a (pretty small) pool table in the attic. I hadn't played pool since I left my previous job, which had a table on which archie and I would play evening matches on a regular basis. I was pleased to note that, while those matches never seemed to do much to improve my playing skills, they definitely honed my trash-talking. I also introduced a couple of extra rules that archie and I invented which, in retrospect, serve primarily to allow a player to lose multiple times in a single match, thus efficiently multiplying the humiliation produced. By way of contrast, the extra rules that Tom and I tried served primarily to over-complicate - and hence prolong - the game. It's interesting to see the effects of different environments and personalities at work here. Anyone in need of a psychology thesis topic?



• On the subject of gaming skills retained, I was pleased to find that I've not lost my Settlers chops. I played two games during the week and won them both.



• One night tinyjo and I had an eerie experience. It was 2am, and we were just settling down to sleep. tinyjo asked if we could listen to the radio for a bit for comfort, as is her wont. I agreed (of course) and we lay listening to the news headlines on the World Service. After 5 minutes it suddenly went dead, mid-report. We lay there, quizzically, as the silence was replaced by bleeps, like a combination of modem noises, Morse code, and those sun-spot samples that timscience likes. As this continued for seconds, then minutes, we got increasingly unnerved; put in mind of the (apocryphal?) story that British nuclear subs listen for The Today Programme on Radio 4 each morning, and assume that England has fallen if it isn't broadcast for two days in a row. As we lay there, clinging together as always, listening to something that might - just conceivably - signal the start of the end of the world, I found myself thinking that there's no way in which I would rather face it. We whispered this to each other; and then discussed who in the house we would eat first if needs be. After about 10 minutes, the broadcast returned as if it had never been gone, with no apologies or explanation. It's probably just as well, as I don't think we could have slept or switched the radio off while those inhuman bleeps continued.

Well, that dispenses of the purity-sullying aspects of the holiday, now on to the reading! We had many many excellent books on offer (thanks primarily to coalescent, who is also able to provide surprisingly accurate recommendations of books he hasn't actually read.) I had originally intended to read Anathem, Neal Stephenson's latest imposing tome. I've loved everything else he's written, and I find books this size and reported complexity benefit from being read in a solid block of time so Reading Week seemed perfect. In the end, though, I didn't get round to it. It wasn't so much that I couldn't muster up the enthusiasm, though it is a somewhat daunting prospect, particularly after watching other people struggle through the first couple of hundred pages with frequent puzzled looks and references to the appendices. Really, I was in a neophilic mood, and preferred to read more smaller books. After all, that's more conversations to have, recommendations to make, and (conveniently, if you're trying to do a post per day) posts to write. Which I'm what I'm going to be doing. Starting tomorrow. Definitely.