Last Dragon by J.M. McDermott

If you like stereotyped, cliché-ridden, sword and sorcery fantasy, avoid this book. If you like straightforward simple plots that tick carefully through events in chronological order, avoid this book. If you like to see everything tidily sewn up at the end of a novel, with all loose ends tucked carefully into the warp and woof of the story, avoid this book.

If you like complex, evocative and haunting stories, read it. If you like innovative artistry, read it. If you like to have plenty of things left to wonder about at the end of the book, read it. In my opinion, there are still a few rough edges here - most notably Korinyes's secret - but Last Dragon is still very much worth reading.

What impressed me about this book is that it pulled me in, despite a format that normally does not appeal to me: the puzzle-piece approach. Bits and pieces of the dying Empress's memories are fed to us without context and it is up to us to fit them together, although it becomes apparent after a little while that we are mostly following two fairly chronological timelines, starting at two different points in the past. I don't normally have a lot of patience for this kind of thing, but McDermott made it work.

You don't have to be a lover of fantasy to appreciate Last Dragon. You do have to like your reading intelligent, complex and gritty. As of yesterday, it is available in bookstores and can be easily ordered online.

P.S. - I'm scrapping the whole star system. I really prefer discussing books to rating them.

Technorati tags: Last Dragon, J.M. McDermott

Page 123

Rafique of The Liberal War Journal (and The Stubborn Facts) has tagged me for yet another book meme. He's too likable for me to say no, and at least this one is easy.

Here are the rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

There is a full bookcase to the right of the computer (yikes!) but to my great relief there are several books strewn across the surface of the low table to the left and the closest one comes in several inches closer than the bookshelf. It is one of my all-time favourites, My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok.

She sounded frightened. I wondered why she was frightened. She hadn't drawn the Rebbe's face in a Chumash.

This is a magnificent novel about a young ultra-orthodox Jewish boy who is consumed by his gift. From the time he can hold a stubby crayon in his fat little fist, he cannot stop himself from drawing, painting, documenting his life. And it ultimately leads him to paint a crucifixion, although it is not Jesus, but his mother who hangs on the cross formed by the intersection of the living room window panes. Potok explores with his customary compassion and sensitivity the relationships between father and son, mother and son, art and religion, belief and doubt. I don't know if the book is still in print, but if you can get your hands on a copy, do so. And cherish it.

Now that I am "it", I need to tag five others. Mwahaha.

Janna at Something She Wrote, of course (revenge is sweet)
Jared at Total Depravity (despite the name, a blog of great charm)
Greg at Sippican Cottage, essayist extraordinaire
Edward Willett at the misspelled (no I won't give it up, Ed!) Hassenpfeffer
and
Annie at The Superfast Reader

Technorati tags: Memes, Chaim Potok, My Name is Asher Lev