The Alchemy of Stone - a book review

The Alchemy of Stone was my introduction to steampunk and a very enjoyable introduction it was too. Ekaterina Sedia writes beautifully and there is a kind of wistful sadness to this book that did not at all fit my preconceived notion of what steampunk was. But then again, it is probably unique to this particular novel.

The Alchemy of Stone is the story of Mattie, a liberated sentient automaton (with built-in hoop skirts!) who earns her living as an alchemist, a calling that is a weird blend of magician and scientist. She feels her non-humanness acutely, not like Pinocchio longing to be a "real" boy, but wanting to be accepted for what she is. It is a lyrical, haunting story of what it means to be marginal, especially in a time of social upheaval. For revolution is brewing...

As befits steampunk, the world in which Mattie lives is roughly reminiscent of Victorian society, but it does not correspond to any identifiable time or place that actually exists. Living gargoyles, sentient automatons, slave labour, and mistreated orphans all rub elbows in this strange place. One of Mattie's strengths, and therefore one of the book's strengths, is her willingness to consider things from all points of view, and her almost total lack of prejudice. This is not to say that she is entirely objective, for she has emotions, knows pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow. She does commit to a side, both in her personal life and in the revolution and must pay the price.

I recommend The Alchemy of Stone highly. Ekaterina Sedia is an author to watch, and I will be checking out her other books.

Thanks to Larry of the OF Blog, who hosted a giveaway of a signed ARC of the book, and of course, to Ekaterina herself, who graciously sent it.)


Technorati tags: The Alchemy of Stone, Ekaterina Sedia, Steampunk

A Prayer for Owen Meany - a review

John Irving is a genius.

I picked up A Prayer for Owen Meany with some apprehension. (I am not always a fan of modern literature, for a variety of reasons, but I'll spare you that rant for now.) I had somehow managed to make it this far without ever reading Irving, and I suspected I was happier for it. Not.

Appropriately enough for a novel in which the voice of Owen Meany has such a central importance, it was the voice of the writer that drew me in. The novel opens thus:

I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice--not because of his voice or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother's death, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany.

I don't know about you, but I find it intriguing that somebody becomes a believer because of the person who was the instrument of his mother's death. And what does he mean by "instrument" anyway? More questions pop up rather promptly: who was Johnny Wheelwright's father? Why was Owen Meany so angry with his parents? You have to get almost all the way through the 672 pages to get most of these questions answered. I'll confess, I did find the journey a little long sometimes, but not too much. Irving is capable of writing laugh-out-loud scenes and the way he writes a story is so engaging, I was prepared to forgive him a few slow spots.

Apart from the story-telling voice, what most impressed me about this book was the intricate interweaving of the various elements of the story. It never felt forced, but even in 672 pages, few elements of the story are single-use, disposable items. They duck in and out of the story, significance accreting to them with each successive appearance. The way Irving accomplishes this without it ever feeling contrived had me marvelling. And you can practically feel the author winking at you when a literary allusion tips off alert readers to the answer to one of the riddles before the narrator finds out.

The political rants, while supposedly being those of the narrator, do come across as something more, which I feel weakened the book a little also. But again, I shall forgive.

This book will not make a Christian out of anybody, but neither is it a veiled attack on Christianity. It shouldn't much change the piety quotient of anybody reading it, because that really isn't the point of the book.

As a Canadian, I much appreciated that the Canadian components of the book were accurate and I wasn't much surprised to find out Irving actually has a residence in Toronto. I doubt if a non-resident American could have pulled it off quite so well, as he spends some time discussing the Canadian mindset, and nailing it. Or at least nailing what it was at the time in question. It's evolved a wee bit since.

In a way, I rather wish A Prayer for Owen Meany had not been such a good book. Then I could have crossed John Irving off of my reading list, which is insanely long. Alas, I shall be obliged to read more. Maybe even to buy some.


Technorati tags: John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany

City of God: A Novel - a review

City of God is a fragmented, dissonant, self-absorbed, and self-referential piece of post-modernist twaddle. Written by someone with real talent. It was only the fact that I had publicly committed to reading the book as part of the 1% Well-Read Challenge that kept me from abandoning it fairly early on in the game, despite the talent and the beautiful language.

The book is essentially a modern cry of despair, the logical conclusion of a worldview essentially wrapped up in self. Everett, the author whose words we are supposedly reading, has this to say about himself. (Or was it his fictitious alter-ego? I forget. It's very hard to keep track of who is speaking sometimes.)

So he is lean, fit, he takes very good care of himself in that way of someone profoundly faithless. He runs, works out almost religiously, for the self-maintenance that is his due.

The main object of his attention is Tom Pemberton, a maverick Episcopal priest who is supposedly seeking to find out who God really is, but who is equally self-absorbed. Witness his take on prayer:

You should try it. As an act of self-dramatization, it can't be beat. You get a hum, a reverberant hum of the possibility of your own consequential voice.

He calls his skull his cathedral, appropriate imagery for several reasons.

The plot, if you can call it that, is highly fragmented, told from various viewpoints, all presumably written by the fictitious author, and is really a series of different stories and metaphysical ramblings, interspersed with an adult version of teen angst poetry, riffing off of some of the classic songs of the early 20th century. A few little ornithological observations are thrown in for a reason which would probably become clear if I reread the book and spent a few hours meditating on its symbolism. (And please, Mr. Doctorow, it's not Canadian geese, it's Canada geese.)

The voice is well-done. Doctorow has a deft way with the language and occasionally throws out a flash of insight that delights. But there are a large number of viewpoint characters, most speaking in the first person, and almost all of them sound alike. This is sloppy characterization and makes it even harder to fit together the shards of story that make up City of God.

All in all, I found this a highly irritating book. From the pretentious arrogance of much of the metaphysical ramblings (I get very annoyed when affirmations of opinion are presented as logical necessities, when they are anything but), to the disjointed "story-telling", to the essentially unsympathetic characters, too much of this book was designed to grate on my nerves, so that its virtues just weren't enough to win me over.

Doctorow has won plenty of awards for his work, so obviously plenty of people disagree with me. I do note, however, that City of God appears to be one of his least popular books as rated by Amazon reviewers.

Technorati tags: E.L. Doctorow, City of God

The 1% Well-Read Challenge

Book lovers of the world, unite!

Peter Boxall's book, 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die, is the basis of a challenge that is being thrown out by Michelle of 1morechapter.com. To accept this challenge, you commit to read 1% of the list over the next 10 months, which is one book a month. She even refers us to a nifty spreadsheet that allows you to tick off all the books you've read and get an automatic calculation of how many you need to read a month to get them all in before you die. I would have to read three a month. Not going to happen. Reading three books a month is not the issue; I just have too many books outside of that list I want to read.

But there were so many books on this list that I really wanted to read anyway, I figured I'd officially throw my hat in the ring.

The 10 books (subject to change) I have selected for this challenge are:

City of God - E.L. Doctorow
A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
Beloved - Toni Morrison
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep - Philip K. Dick
The Golden Notebook - Doris Lessing
The Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
Their Eyes Were Watching God - Zora Neale Hurston
The Magic Mountain - Thomas Mann
The Moonstone - Wilkie Collins
The Betrothed - Alessandro Manzoni


Technorati tags: Reading Challenge, 1001 Books

Free Books!

I have recently, belatedly, discovered that people all over the Internet give away free, brand-new books. Most of the time, all you have to do is indicate your willingness to accept them and wait for the luck of the draw.

Book bloggers are in the midst of a give-away frenzy, so if you're interested, start with Eva's blog, In a Striped Armchair. She'll point you to a few other bloggers doing the same thing.

There are also blogs that specialize in reviewing specific kinds of books. They often have complimentary copies from the publishers to give away so are usually running book draws a couple of times a week. Fantasy Book Critic is a good example.

And last but not least, check out your favourite author's blog or website. They sometimes have freebies too, especially if they're debut authors trying to get attention.

Then there's that nasty Edward Willett at Hassenpfeffer who managed to not draw my name SIX WEEKS RUNNING! And Marseguro looks like a good read too. I suppose this means I shall have to spend money to do so.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have free books to read...


Technorati tags: Free books, Book give-aways

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

Thursday Thirteen on Saturday - Opening Lines

I don't do memes. But I'm doing this one. Consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds, right? We all know that.

Here are thirteen opening lines from thirteen novels. Which ones can you guess? Correct answers will be inserted as they come in.

(Too late folks; it's over. I'm putting all the answers in now.)

1. "I've watched through his eyes, I've listened through his ears, and I tell you he's the one. Or at least as close as we're going to get."
Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card, guessed by Annie #2

2. "Matrimony was ordained, thirdly," said Jane Studdock to herself, "for the mutual society, help, and comfort that the one ought to have of the other."
That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis, guessed by Annie.

3. It came by mail, the old-fashioned way, since the Judge was almost eighty and distrusted modern devices.
The Summons by John Grisham, guessed by Anonymous (part way) and Annie #2.

4. No knowledge has come down of Joseph Knecht's origins.
The Glass Bead Game (Magister Ludi) by Hermann Hesse, guessed by Vomaxx at AW, who didn't turn up to put it in the comments here.

5. A squat grey building of only thirty-four storeys.
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, guessed by Danika.

6. The news hit the British High Commission in Nairobi at nine-thirty on a Monday morning.
The Constant Gardener by John LeCarré, guessed by Eva.

7. The island of Gont, a single mountain that lifts its peak a mile above the storm-wracked Northeast Sea, is a land famous for wizards.
A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula LeGuin, guessed by Poodlerat.

8. The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it.
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, guessed by Poodlerat.

9. My name is Perry L. Crandall and I am not retarded.
Lottery by Patricia Wood, guessed by Annie.

10. Brother Francis Gerard of Utah might never have discovered the blessed documents, had it not been for the pilgrim with girded loins who appeared during that young novice's Lenten fast in the desert.
A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, guessed by Annie #2.
Follow this up with the second sentence, and I consider it one of the best openings I've ever read.

Never before had Brother Francis actually seen a pilgrim with girded loins, but that this one was the bona fide article he was convinced as soon as he had recovered from the spin-chilling effect of the pilgrim's advent on the far horizon, as a wiggling iota of black caught in a shimmering haze of heat.

Great voice, sense of place, unusual but effective description and a good sense of the dry but sympathetic humour that characterizes the book. By the end of this second sentence I was smitten.

11. Here was the least common denominator of nature, the skeleton requirements simply, of land and sky - Saskatchewan prairie.
Who Has Seen the Wind by W.O. Mitchell, guessed by the husband of Danika.

12. In the tombs of Kursi sits a man with his back to the sea.
Madman by Tracy Groot. Fantastic book, see my review in the previous post.

13. The cabin-passenger wrote in his diary a parody of Descartes: 'I feel discomfort, therefore I am alive,' then sat pen in hand with no more to record.
A Burnt-Out Case by Graham Greene. I was more than a little surprised that no one got this one.

And that's it for this time.

You can find the original here, but I found it through Superfast Reader. Oh, and Poodlerat has done one too.

Technorati tags: Book memes, Opening lines, C.S. Lewis, Patricia Wood, Aldous Huxley, Orson Scott Card, John Grisham, Walter M. Miller, Ursula LeGuin, Anna Sewell, W.O. Mitchell, John LeCarré, Hermann Hesse, Tracy Groot, Graham Greene

Madman - a review

Every now and again, I read a book that makes me sit up and go "Wow!" Madman by Tracy Groot is such a book.

In my sometimes despairing search for a well-written Christian book, I was told to read Groot. Seldom have I received better advice.

When I read a book, I plunge right in, reading uncritically and eagerly. Bad writing jerks me out of my happy abandon and I start getting grumpy. If it's really bad, I give up. (I'm still trying to persuade myself to pick up The DaVinci Code again, but so far it's not working.) In the case of Madman, I surfaced for air after a couple of chapters with a startled feeling of well-being thinking, "Did that ever slide down nicely!" Sort of like the reaction you'd have when walking into an unknown Mom-and-Pop restaurant and finding yourself eating a gourmet meal that could make a food columnist weep.

Groot's clear, elegant prose goes down like a particularly good cup of premium-blend coffee, rich and satisfying, but not at all precious. The story, with all its potential for melodrama and bathos, is told with restraint and compassion, despite the presence of many elements common to thrillers and horror stories. For this is the story of the madman of Gerasene, a demon-possessed man delivered by Jesus at the cost of a herd of pigs. It is told from the viewpoint of Tallis, an Athenian playwright, philosopher and servant of a philosopher, sent to investigate what has happened to a satellite academy set up by his master. Upon finding out that it has mysteriously dissolved and that one of the teachers is now a madman roaming the tombs of the Decapolis, he feels compelled to try and help. Groot handles the story with deft skill, making this a very difficult book to put down.

Elegance of style, sophistication of thought, and a rip-roaring good story. It doesn't get any better than that.

Well, actually, it does. It also has one of the best covers I have seen on a book in a long, long time.

Five stars for this one. Take a good look. I don't hand out five very often.

Paperback: 320 pages, Publisher: Moody Publishers

Technorati tags: Madman, Tracy Groot, Fiction

I actually won!

J.M. McDermott announced a poetry contest a couple of weeks back that intrigued me. The prize was an autographed ARC (Advance Reader's Copy) of his upcoming novel, Last Dragon.

Being a little dense sometimes, I thought the contest was to write a poem about his book and seeing as I hadn't read it, I didn't try. But the description of the book at Amazon looked so promising, I eventually decided to make a stab anyway. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. JM was nice enough to let me know I had misunderstood, that the poem was to be on the theme "last dragon", not on the book itself. My rather sorry little limerick had no chance. (You try converting advertising copy into poetry and see if YOU can do it!) So I tried again, even though there were barely 24 hours left before the contest closed.

The theme didn't seem to be too suited to limericks to me, so after considering the permissible forms I settled on a villanelle, a form of poetry that repeats two lines of a refrain at strictly specified intervals throughout. The most famous example is Dylan Thomas's iconic "Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night" with its haunting "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." It seemed to me to be ideally suited for a lament. Throw in the fact that it was probably a little easier than a sonnet or a sestina, and my choice was made.

I'm not claiming that my poem is destined to live forever in anthologies (it won't), but I was pleased enough with the result of my efforts to submit it, although another week to mull over the rough spots would have been nice. And J.M. was pleased enough to award it first place, throwing in some editorial comments for free.

I am tickled pink. I get to read the book before everybody else but the reviewers. I will post a review of my own when we get closer to the release date.


Technorati tags: Poetry, Last Dragon, J.M. McDermott

A Book on the Amish and Forgiveness

There is a new book out on the Amish and their culture of forgiveness. Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy was written by three American professors who were much in demand for expert interviews after last year's school shooting in Pennsylvania. I can't recommend it at this point, seeing as I haven't read it yet, (and I doubt that traffic at this blog is sufficient to talk my way into a reviewer's copy) but it looks like a serious effort by people who know what they're talking about on a subject that's worth talking about.

Technorati tags: Amish Grace, Forgiveness

The ultimate in true crime stories

The problem is, this one was marketed as fiction. It took the police in Poland all of four years to realize that Krystian Bala's 2003 novel bore an uncanny resemblance to an unsolved murder case dating from 2000, and realized that it was an only slightly fictionalized account of how the novelist murdered his wife's suspected lover.

He may be the first villain in history to get paid for his monologue.

For more details, click here,. Hat tip to Done With Mirrors for the more detailed story.

Technorati tags: Crime fiction, Murder, Krystian Bala

Empire by Orson Scott Card - a review

Empire is easily the worst thing I've ever read by Orson Scott Card, and the worst book I've read in some time, period. I honestly didn't think he was capable of such clunky prose, wooden dialogue, and cardboard characters. The thriller sections weren't thrilling and I often had to push myself to finish. There was actually dialogue along the lines of "Seeing as we're both in such excellent physical shape, there's no need to park too close." This is just plain sloppy writing. And he was so desperate to deliver his message, large chunks of it read like rant. I much preferred the Afterword, when he laid out his social concerns in a straightforward and much more readable manner. His attempts to work these concerns into the dialogue and expositions were done with all the subtlety of a novice (which Card isn't) and gave my eyes a good workout from frequent rolling. He was working on a schedule and running late and boy, does it ever show.

It is a shame. OSC, as he is known to his fans, is capable of much better. I've read a number of his books and they were either brilliant (Ender's Game, most notably) or at least a darn good read (Enchantment). Also, the questions he raises in the book are worthy of a better treatment. The polarization of American political culture into two camps of mutual loathing is one I've blogged on before. It's toxic, and this book shows us what such toxicity could theoretically lead to. The whole question of the United States as an empire or empire-to-be is also worthy of some serious thought. I wish he had handled it as deftly as he did with such large issues in the Ender series.

I would also dearly love to see a female character who is not a carbon copy of all his others. All his main female characters have the same persona: engaging, witty, highly intelligent, unconventional. I would dearly love to meet his wife, who is supposedly the template for them, and who is obviously well worth knowing, but I wish he could summon up another female character he is capable of liking.

Just one star for this effort.


Technorati tags: Empire, Orson Scott Card

New evangelical blog praises Harry Potter

Seeing as we're in the twilight zone today and turning stereotypes on their heads...

Chuck Colson's Breakpoint has set up a group blog, The Point, and one of the current themes is defence of Harry Potter. Yup, that Harry Potter. Just when you think you have the world figured out...

Stereotype-buster Walrus at your service.

(Somebody should tell them over there that posting a comment as a separate post is a very annoying habit.)

Technorati tags: Harry Potter, Chuck Colson

Lost in Translation

OK, you can come out of heck now, Edward Willett. You have redeemed yourself.

The cardboard-wrapped Lost in Translation turned up in my mailbox yesterday afternoon and I successfully refrained from cracking it open until after supper. Those who know me realize that bibliophile is too weak a word for me. Biblioholic would be closer to the mark. Which makes that much restraint, little as it was, rather remarkable. Proof that I can, on occasion, behave like a responsible adult.

Maybe the cover art helped. It was, quite frankly, dreadful. It fell into the trap the author didn't, that of cutesy sentimentality. The artist probably hadn't read the book at all, or if so, with remarkably little attention. Not that this is unusual, cover art often seems to have little regard for what actually lies between the covers. The paperback, due out in October, has a much more promising cover, conveying much more effectively the menacing appearance of Jarrikk, one of the two main characters, contrasted with the blond fragility of Kathryn, his human counterpart.

The contrast between the two main characters is one of the driving forces behind this science fiction novel. Jarrick and Kathryn, S'sinn and human, have every reason, both racial and personal, to hate and mistrust the other as the two translators are thrown into negotiations which each side fervently hopes will fail, thus allowing them to wage the war they ardently desire.

Translation, in this far off future, is accomplished by forming a profound empathetic relationship between two translators, by means of a genetically engineered link. Seldom had there been two more unwilling participants. But the privileged understanding of each other created by the translators' link creates a radical shift in their attitudes and births an unlikely alliance.

Willett very effectively makes us share this empathy. The S'sinn, predators rather like panthers with bat wings, are not natural candidates for our understanding, but understand them we do. The obvious analogies to understanding between human races can be drawn, but the author never falls into the trap of preaching it in any way, which would have weakened the book considerably.

The characterizations are, for the most part well handled, with most of the characters in book presented in a believable and usually sympathetic manner. One or two of the secondary characters would have benefitted from a more complete fleshing out. Jim, in particular, is hard to get a handle on. Willett would undoubtedly argue that this is deliberate, indeed, that his inscrutability is essential, but I think he pushed it a wee bit too far. This character never really comes alive for me.

Which in no way prevented me from turning pages. Until the very end. Seeing as I read fast and the book was not unduly long, that didn't keep me up too terribly late. Given a decent dead spot, I would have put it down for the night, but I didn't really get one. The plot twists and turns through personal intrigues, political intrigues, spatiopolitical intrigues...

All in all, a good entertaining read with substance to it. So Edward Willett can come out of heck, because I don't regret buying the hardcover edition. You've really got to hand it to an author who can make you rather like a creature with tentacles around his beaked face who engages in Realpolitik.

332 pages, hardcover, Five Star

Technorati tags: Edward Willett, Lost in Translation

Darwinian Fairytales

Darwin is apparently getting clobbered from a rather unlikely source: a philosopher of "no religion", the late David Stove. In his recently published book Darwinian Fairytales: Selfish Genes, Errors of Heredity and Other Fables of Evolution, Stove acknowledged Darwin’s “great genius” and admitted that natural selection had great explanatory power when it came to “sponges, snakes and flies.”

However, Stove regarded Darwinism as a “ridiculous slander to human beings.” Flesh-and-blood people do not act in any ways resembling what the Darwinian dogma says they should. For instance, natural selection dictates that “every organism has as many descendants as it can.” Stove asks, “Do you know anyone of whom that’s true?”

Likewise, Darwin insisted that natural selection would “rigidly destroy” any variation that would hurt its possessor “in the struggle for life.” Stove replied, “start with the letter ‘A’: Abortion, Alcoholism, or even Altruism.” Are any of these “variations” being “rigidly destroyed”?

After hearing about this book from Chuck Colson, I've checked out reviews on the web, and it's generally hailed as being razor sharp and extremely funny, as well as relentless in its use of logic.

I just thought the questions were cool...

Technorati tags: Darwin