Lori’s Book Nook

Much has been written about the late, great Douglas Adams. The Hitchhiker series (yes, geeks, I am aware that it’s a trilogy in umpteen parts…) with their rather random sense of humour. The Dirk Gently books which always reminded me a bit of Thorne Smith (1892-1934) books.

But, there will always be a little place in my heart for The Meaning of Liff — here’s one of my favourite entries:

PELUTHO (n.)
A South American ball game. The balls are whacked against a brick wall with a stout wooden bat until the prisoner confesses.

And here it is online, in its entirety. Gotta love the Internet!

Back to Thorne Smith, because he was just a weird and wonderful writer, and yes, Dirk Gently reminded me of him. Here’s an except from the beginning of my favourite of his books, The Nightlife of the Gods (available in its entirety online as well, with others):

CHAPTER 1

CRITICIZING AN EXPLOSION

THE small family group gathered in the library was only conventionally alarmed by the sound of a violent explosion—a singularly self-centred sort of explosion.

‘Well, thank God, that’s over,’ said Mrs Alice Pollard Lambert, swathing her sentence in a sigh intended to convey an impression of hard-pressed fortitude.

With bleak eyes she surveyed the fragments of a shattered vase. Its disastrous dive from the piano as a result of the shock had had in it something of the mad deliberation of a suicide’s plunge. Its hideous days were over now, and Mrs Lambert was dimly aware of another little familiar something having been withdrawn from her life.

‘I hope to high heaven this last one satisfies him for this spring at least,’ was the petulant comment of Alfred, the male annexe of Alice.

‘I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting,’ came a thin disembodied voice from a dark corner. ‘Night and day I’ve been waiting and expecting—’

‘And hoping and praying, no doubt, Grandpa,’ interrupted Daphne, idly considering a run in her stocking and wondering what she was going to do about it, if anything, and when would be the least boring time to do it if she did, which she doubted.

One obituary.

Did you know that the author of the classic “A Wrinkle in Time” wrote as much as she did (over 50 works published)? I must admit I was a fan of that utterly timeless classic, but never went further with her work.

I think I can credit this woman with my fascination with speculative fiction.

Rest in peace.

A co-worker and I have discovered that we both read fantasy novels. She took it upon herself to lend me a rather silly series, by a writer I’d never heard of before — Tamora Pierce. A quick Google search tells me that she is a fantasy author who writes books for young people. That just tells me that publishers don’t think young people can handle any richness to their writing. Here’s her motivation for writing, from an interview (quoted here):

I got into this to write about girls who kick butt. In the mid-’70s, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Sheri Tepper, C.J. Cherryh, that crowd particularly, started to change the field. For me, there was a problem that a number of these characters were gay or celibate female warriors, and I was neither. So I wrote fantasy with female warrior heroes who like guys. Robin McKinley and Barbara Hambly both started to publish their fantasy at the same time, so I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Is she comparing herself to Robin McKinley? Author of The Blue Sword? Funny though, how Pierce’s heroine, Alanna — who isn’t a lesbian, no way no how! — has a series of adventures very similar to those of Harry/Harimad-sol in McKinley’s book. Desert adventure, finding her powers…

Thank goodness, she’s not comparing herself to Bradley, Tepper, or Cherryh!

What problem do I have with this writer?

• She takes absolutely no time to develop her characters beyond the bare minimum.
• She tells, and tells, and tells, and never once shows.
• The plot points are so transparent it’s annoying — since she doesn’t take any time to develop the world or the characters, when someone blinks, you know it’s significant.
• Three words: Deus ex machina. Magic is unexplained, it just bang! is there to save the day.
• Each of the 4 books in the series I read (oh yes! All 4…I’m not complaining on the strength of only reading one — not too onerous, they were quick reads), had enough action for 3 or 4 books. Huge quest material, dealt with in 4 chapters. Move on to the next with a “And they all went back to the city.” Come up with another 3 adventures, some innocent shtupping (’cause remember, she’s not a lesbian. NO. Not a lesbian!), some more ways for Alanna to be utterly wonderful and perfect and strong and the best fighter and . . . ingredients for one more Tamora Pierce book, 3 more for any other writer with a modicum of talent for exposition.

I wish I could say I was exaggerating. But if I’d been introduced to this as a pre-teen, I would have been scarred for life, my ability to appreciate good writing forever damaged.

I’ll go back to Lois McMaster Bujold (or Sheri S. Tepper or . . .) any day.

I interrupted my reading of this tripe to pick up one of Bujold’s latest, that I’d been trying to ignore, trying to prolong the anticipation — The Sharing Knife: Beguilement. (Read the first couple of chapters here!)

Bujold really takes the time to develop her characters, and their world. In one sequence, 2 of the characters ride 3 hours into town…it takes 15, beautifully written pages.

Pierce would have done it more efficiently: “They rode three hours to town.”

Gads. I don’t usually write negative reviews, but I need something to show for the wasted time!

I wonder if it’s significant that two of the more memorable books I’ve read have to do with perfume…

Jitterbug Perfume is my favourite Tom Robbins book [not linking to any TR sites...there just seems to be Wikipedia and fan sites -- nothing definitive]. If you’ve never read any Robbins, then you don’t know that he’s got a bit of thang for many a topic, and will take on a major theme or two in each book, going on these wonderful rants that end up being rather heady, like a warm brandy. In Jitterbug Perfume, the main theme is, of course, the power of our sense of smell….and sex, but then it’s always sex….oh, and beets.

Anyway, the sense of smell.

On the same theme is the brilliant novel by German author Patrick Suskind, Perfume.  It’s an adjective-rich descriptive soup of a novel…where you can almost perceive the stench of Paris in the Middle Ages rising up from the pages. Imagine reading it in the original German!!

We watched the movie version of Perfume: The Story of a Murder last night — well done! It was so nicely done that it was almost scratch’n’sniff (a la Odorama of John Waters)! Fetid Paris streets, foul tanneries, odiferous breath…ick. And the most difficult detail of the novel was subtly portrayed: that the main character, John Baptiste Grenouille, with his superhuman nose, had absolutely no aroma of his own. It’s an odd detail, covered in much more detail in the book, but conveyed in some very interesting ways.

I wonder if it would have been harder to discern if I hadn’t been looking for it?

Two very good books. One rather disturbing movie.

Have you ever picked up a book by Sheri S. Tepper?

Known for her women-centered novels, like The Gate to Women’ Country (1988), Tepper’s writing is so much more than her early feminist sf roots. Oh, all of her books expand upon themes that are obviously dear to her heart — women’s issues, the environment, the evils of religious extremists — but her writing is so much more.

Her books are virtually indescribable.  How do you explain a book in which such unusual events take place?

“Well, her book Grass is about this planet where, uh, there are these things like, uh, horses, but they’re not horses, see? They’re malevolent beings that take control of their riders…”

Merely describing a Tepper book makes it sound so flat, so lame. But she can truly make it happen, make you feel the wonder, and the fear, along with her characters.

I just finished reading (and re-reading) her book The Visitor (2002) — a pre- and post-Apocalyptic story of magic and religion.  I was trying to explain it to my husband, in terms he would understand: “It’s like Terry Pratchett meets Stephen King.” Very off-the-wall unusual things happen, and it’s quite scary in spots. Again, inadequate.

Most of her books are stand-alones (very important to many readers, in this world of series after series) — even the books in series (like Grass (1989), Raising the Stones (1990), and Sideshow (1992)) are often essentially stand-alone.

Warning – to truly appreciate the book The Family Tree (1997), do not read anything about it prior to opening it up. You’ll ruin a wonderful moment if you get a spoiler.

So we did it. Traveled all the way to Portland, OR, to visit Powell’s City of Books…a mecca of sorts in the book world.

Was it worth it? Well, it was raining in Portland, so it wasn’t like we were going to do any other sightseeing. We’d woken up late in our campground, which was not in itself a bad thing, but instead of breakfast we had brunch…and we ended up driving all the way home that day/night, instead of either camping in the wet or getting across the mountains and setting up camp at night.

But, I’m not answering the question. Yes. It was worth it. It’s a fabulous bookstore. It makes me happy knowing that there exists a place I can get numerous John Fante or Lawrence Ferlinghetti books, should I need to. It had 4 copies of one of the books on my wishlist, Ursula LeGuin’s Dancing on the Edge of the World…now no longer on my wishlist, but in my library.
Another treasure that is now in my library, for a great price, is the New and Collected Poems: 1931 - 2001 of Czeslaw Milosz, Polish poet & Nobel Prize winner. One of the reasons I wanted a book of his poetry was A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry — a collection he edited. The choices he made, and his commentary, put him firmly in the category of Poets I Like.

I will leave you with one of his poems, entitled A Boy.

A Boy

Standing on a boulder you cast a line,
Your bare feet rounded by the flickering water
Of your native river thick with water lilies.
And who are you, staring at the float
While you listen to echoes, the clatter of paddles?
What is the stigma you received, young master,
You who are ill with your apartness
And have one longing: to be just like the others?
I know your story and learned your future.
Dressed as a Gypsy girl I could stop by the river
And tell your fortune: fame and a lot of money,
Without knowledge, though, of the price to be paid
Which one does not admit to the envious.
One thing is certain: in you, there are two natures.
The miserly, the prudent on against the generous.
For many years you will attempt to reconcile them
Till all your works have grown small
And you will prize only uncalculated gifts,
Greatheartedness, self-forgetful giving,
Without monuments, books, and human memory.

Enjoy.

Interesting how the genre of SF has changed over the years. No, I’m not going to start a history lesson…go to Wikipedia for that.

But, what do they really stand for, those two letters? Science fiction? Speculative fiction? Science fiction & fantasy? Does it matter?

The point is, the literature of alternate views of reality is a wonderful thing…a laboratory of possible outcomes, a playground for ideas, and a place where absolutely anything goes. In my bookmarks, I’ve been holding on to a useful one, the Internet Speculative Fiction Database. The main page has a great list of upcoming releases, in all forms, including audio. [So now I really know what my bookstore isn't stocking!]

While I’m on about releases and new books, have you folks been to Baen’s Free Library? It’s a great marketing ploy (and a transparent one, if you read the first page), but there’s one point that’s not made there:

How many people are really likely to read a book online?

I might read the first chapter, get into it, and decide to buy the book (or find it at the library), but I don’t see myself reading all of it while sitting at my computer.

Questions for the public: Do you read books online? On your computer, your PDA, whatever. If so, why? How? How many? Is it better than a physical book (perish the thought!)?

Obviously, I’m biased to the ‘real thing’. I want to hold a book in my hand, curl up in a comfy chair (or flake out on the sofa, or sit up in bed…), and turn pages. I’ve read a book once on the computer, as an experiment. It was The Voyages of Doctor Doolittle by Hugh Lofting.

Found this concept on Chelsea’s Blog on Vox. I’ve never really thought about this, but here are some of her faves:

7. Mercutio, from Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. Although Romeo has become synonymous with romantic lovers, he never did much for me. Far from being loyal, he actually strikes me as inconstant; if it hadn’t been for the forbidden nature of his and Juliet’s relationship, they would have been over each other within two weeks, tops. But Mercutio- there’s loyalty. He’s well aware of the stupidity of the feud but remains loyal to the Montagues nevertheless, ultimately laying down his life. The cynical bitterness of the character is also intriguing, as is his obvious intelligence and his sharp sense of humor.

6. Rhett Butler, from Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell. Rhett Butler is the only traditional romantic hero to appear on this list; he’s pretty much the prototypical rakehell that’s starred in every Harlequin or Mills & Boone romance since then. Scarlett was absolutely crazy not to recognize what she had; Rhett may not be perfect but he was perfect for her. Like he said, they were both “scoundrels.” His devotion to his daughter was also charming; his brokenness after the death of Bonnie Blue remains one of the most heart wrenching things I’ve ever read.

5. Inigo Montoya, from The Princess Bride by S. Morgenstern abridged by William Goldman. Westley is nice, I suppose, but at his core he’s pretty dull, and why he loves Buttercup (who may be beautiful but is as dumb as a box of hair) is beyond me. Give me the tortured soul of Inigo Montoya, seeking to avenge his father by killing the six-fingered man. Inigo’s athleticism, skill, and dedication are all worthy attributes.

I don’t think I’ve ever crushed on a literary character. I have favourite heros, of course. Samwise Gamgee, Zorro,  Miles Vorkosigan, and Friti Tailchaser to name a few.  But I am curious about who other people have had crushes on. Share them with me.

Ooh…lots of pdf files of fantasy novels (& stories), starting with LOTR & other Tolkien books, Neil Gaiman stories, Terry Pratchett. Are these even out of copyright?!?

There’s something wonderful about searchable files of your favourite books…find quotes & fave sections, settle bets, what-have-you.

I just spent an utterly delightful hour and a half over coffee with a new friend — turns out we have a lot of similar literary & cultural interests, which is always a pleasant surprise.

I, of course, imposed my will, and made her write down some books to read, based on the paths our conversation took.

We discussed trends, among other things, and two books jumped to mind:

Bellwether by Connie Willis. Here’s a tidbit review from a computer science prof’s webpage (apt, for SF):

Review:
Sandra Foster is a sociologist trying to understand fads, Bennett O’Reilly is researching chaos theory. They both work for HiTek, a research corporation with a Dilbert-esque Management from Hell, where, due to an amazing series of blunders and coincidences, they end up working together.

This is a sheer delight, breathlessly paced, and wittily observant. Sandy is a fun, believable character: her obsession with fads, which she cannot stop herself seeing in every event around her, and the consequent hilarious view of modern life, are beautifully drawn. Her technique to stop her public library selling classic but unchecked-out books — by constantly checking them out — is one of the many wonderful subplots.

And Pattern Recognition by the man himself, William Gibson. The first link there is to a synopsis of the book — I recommend not reading it, just go find the book. Gibson is always best read unintroduced…let his magic just roll over you.