The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell
I decided to read this since I really enjoyed A Thread of Grace. When I first looked the novel up online, I was surprised to see that it was a science fiction story considering that A Thread of Grace was historical fiction. Since her historical novel was so good, I was kind of curious if her science fiction would be. Honestly, it's one of those books that could also be called a literary novel, but either way, I'm impressed since Russell did very well in both genres.
Like in Parable of the Talents, the last sci-fi novel I read, the reader already knows the outcome of the story in the beginning. The question is how did it get where it ends up. The novel begins in December of 2059 with Emilio Sandoz's release from the hospital. It is quickly revealed that he is the lone survivor of a space mission to a distant planet Rakhat, but not much is known about what happened in the end and why everyone else died or didn't return. Sandoz is a Jesuit priest so the Society of Jesus, who also sponsored the trip, take care of him and slowly get him to reveal the truth over the course of the novel. The story flashes back and forth between Sandoz's recovery and all the events leading up to the trip. One of Sandoz's friends, who works at the space station, discovers a signal from another planet, the crew gets assembled and trained, and leave to study the newly discovered planet. This all begins in 2019, and due to the planet's distance, it takes four years for radio messages to reach Earth, and 17 to actually travel between the planets (even though it seems like a year on the space ship). So by the time Sandoz gets back, 6 years have passed for him, but 38 for everyone on Earth.
In 2059/60, the priests and the world already know some of the very basic story, and can infere other things from Sandoz's appearance. It is obvious that he has been tortured and mutilated, but he is also seen as a villain (the reason why is explained later in the book) since he is called murderer and whore. Despite the horrible outcome, it wasn't foreseeable in the mission's interactions with the populace of Rakhat. The first few years are peaceful, and full of information with a few minor goofs and hickups here and there. Overall, however, they get along well with the villagers they live with. It isn't till much later after the tragic events occur that Sandoz starts understanding more about the underlying aspects of the culture, and how some of their actions have changed and affected the Runa, the species they are living with. I guess they forgot about that whole butterfly effect.
Additionally, Sandoz is dealing with severe psychological issues upon his return to Earth, and grabbling with his faith, wondering about the type of God he worships. With Russell's last novel, it turned out that the title was referencing a piece of religious writing (I can't remember if it was Christian or Jewish), but it's one of those titles that could be explained even without that verse since helping the Jews and fighting the Nazis in such dire conditions could certainly be seen as a sign of grace. Towards the end of the novel, I was really starting to wonder where the title The Sparrow came from - there weren't any birds, the space ship wasn't called that etc. Yet again, Russell was referencing a religious piece: "Not one sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it" (Matthew 10, 29). Of course, the question Sandoz must ask himself if it is enough for him that God watches, knows and cares, or if he believes that God actually acts and causes things to happen. If that is the case, he is going to have find a way to reconcile that with what happened in Rakhat.
Russell continues Sandoz and Rakhat's story in Children of God, which I'll be getting next time I make an Amazon order.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Book 21: Parable of the Talents
Parable of the Talents by Octavia Butler
In this sequel to Parable of the Sower, Butler contines the story of Lauren Olamina. It's about five years after the end of that novel, and while the country definitely hasn't recovered from all the economic and environmental issues, there is a sense that things are getting better. There are fewer people wandering the roads, though the situation is far from perfect, and violence and crime are still common. Acorn, the community Lauren has set up, has grown in numbers and is basically prospering, though in a very 19th century sort of way.
Religious leader Jarrett uses fear to get himself elected president, and once again, the country's standing starts worsening. He becomes involved in a pointless war, and his extreme right wing views lead to much bigotry and discrimination, In fact, he becomes the excuse for his followers to take over Acorn and turn it into a labor camp for the sake of "re-education." Due to this, Lauren loses her infant daughter who is "rescued" from her heathen family and placed in a home with good Christian folks.
The novel actually flashes between Lauren's journal entries and commentary from her now adult daughter with one or two entries from Bankole and Marcos Duran, Lauren's husband and brother respectively. As a result, no matter the trials that Lauren endures, the reader knows that she will eventually succeed in her goal even if it costs her her daughter. Honestly, I felt that the daughter judged her too harshly since she kept accusing her mother of choosing Earthseed, her religion, over her own daughter. She is bitter that her mother was never able to find her but her uncle was, not even giving her the benefit of the doubt considering that as a member of the same church that stole Lauren's daughter, Marcos might have a few better connections and resources.
In addition to being a mother-daughter narrative, Butler explores the affects of fear and ignorance on the population. Jarrett is able to exploit these two things to create an atmospehere that is incredibly intolerant. Any person on the street that doesn't fit into his or his followers' plans or ideology is suddenly prey and can be picked up for their own good and reeducated. Some people truly believe this will help, others just don't want to deal with the poverty. In the labor camp, Butler also looks at freedom and how easy it can be to dehumanize people. Lauren and her followers are degraded and treated like little more than animals but the same people that call them disgusting fornicators feel completely justified to rape them. Despite their superiority in numbers, technology and brutality prevent the prisoners from doing anything but merely surviving from day to day without any chance at organization or revolt.
In this sequel to Parable of the Sower, Butler contines the story of Lauren Olamina. It's about five years after the end of that novel, and while the country definitely hasn't recovered from all the economic and environmental issues, there is a sense that things are getting better. There are fewer people wandering the roads, though the situation is far from perfect, and violence and crime are still common. Acorn, the community Lauren has set up, has grown in numbers and is basically prospering, though in a very 19th century sort of way.
Religious leader Jarrett uses fear to get himself elected president, and once again, the country's standing starts worsening. He becomes involved in a pointless war, and his extreme right wing views lead to much bigotry and discrimination, In fact, he becomes the excuse for his followers to take over Acorn and turn it into a labor camp for the sake of "re-education." Due to this, Lauren loses her infant daughter who is "rescued" from her heathen family and placed in a home with good Christian folks.
The novel actually flashes between Lauren's journal entries and commentary from her now adult daughter with one or two entries from Bankole and Marcos Duran, Lauren's husband and brother respectively. As a result, no matter the trials that Lauren endures, the reader knows that she will eventually succeed in her goal even if it costs her her daughter. Honestly, I felt that the daughter judged her too harshly since she kept accusing her mother of choosing Earthseed, her religion, over her own daughter. She is bitter that her mother was never able to find her but her uncle was, not even giving her the benefit of the doubt considering that as a member of the same church that stole Lauren's daughter, Marcos might have a few better connections and resources.
In addition to being a mother-daughter narrative, Butler explores the affects of fear and ignorance on the population. Jarrett is able to exploit these two things to create an atmospehere that is incredibly intolerant. Any person on the street that doesn't fit into his or his followers' plans or ideology is suddenly prey and can be picked up for their own good and reeducated. Some people truly believe this will help, others just don't want to deal with the poverty. In the labor camp, Butler also looks at freedom and how easy it can be to dehumanize people. Lauren and her followers are degraded and treated like little more than animals but the same people that call them disgusting fornicators feel completely justified to rape them. Despite their superiority in numbers, technology and brutality prevent the prisoners from doing anything but merely surviving from day to day without any chance at organization or revolt.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Sunday Music Video
Matchbox 20 - Push
I'm not a big Matchbox 20 or Rob Thomas fan, but say what you will about the band, this is a really good song.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
History vs. Tourism
I've written before about growing up in Germany and how that influenced my approach to history. This weekend got me to thinking about it some more.
We had a four day weekend for President's Day, but since the new LT and I both had errands and things to take care of at home as well, we decided to go to Munich for two days instead of an extensive trip involving planes and so forth. It was her first time in Munich, and I haven't been there since I was 18, so we hit up some of the more obvious places, such as Schloss Nymphenburg, the Rathause, a few churches, and downtown. When listing places famous historic sites in the Munich area, I mentioned Dachau, and she expressed a strong desire to go see it. So that's where we went Sunday afternoon.
This is the third time I've been to Dachau Concentration Camp. When I was 8, I was shocked to discover such systemized human cruelty but also inspired to learn about the subject and I felt everyone should know about it. When I was 18, I went with my best friend at the time and my grandfather. My grandfather, who is German, seemed less than happy about going, but he took us. Being a rather unsympathetic 18 year old who tended to see the world in black and white, I felt like he shouldn't have a problem with taking us to Dachau and should face his country's history and past (not that he hasn't in his own way, I'm sure, but he's never talked about World War 2 much, except when noting his displeasure about me being in the military).
Now that I'm 24, I have very mixed and difficult reactions. And they were caused less by the place I was than the people I saw around me. Almost all of the people I noticed and saw were American. I heard lots of English around me, and a few other languages, but little German. And I was kind of annoyed. My first reaction was, "you come all the way to Germany, and you come straight to the concentration camps? There's more to Germany than just that." But more so than that, something about the fact that Dachau has somehow become a tourist attraction or site strikes me in the wrong way. I believe that Dachau should remain standing and open to the public as a reminder of what happened. It is an important historic landmark. People should know their history, but where is the line between a tourist site and a historical monument? While I think people should focus on other parts of German history and not just the Holocaust, I also hate the idea of Dachau just being another place to mark off on the check list of "Places to See in Munich," that somehow it is simply another famous site to say they've visited without recognizing its meaning. If it inspires people to learn more about the subject that's great, or if someone has an ardent interest in history and came for that reason, I also respect that, but how many people actually realize just how significant the Holocaust was? Is it wrong for me to almost want a dress code in place because I find the idea of someone walking around in pajama pants or sweat pants in a former labor camp where thousands upon thousands of people died wrong? Am I just taking things too seriously when I feel uncomfortable hearing people laughing while walking around near the crematorium? I don't think there is a way to reconcile the idea of keeping Dachau open to the public and avoiding it becoming a tourist attraction, but it just got to me this weekend and it was a really unexpected reaction.
We had a four day weekend for President's Day, but since the new LT and I both had errands and things to take care of at home as well, we decided to go to Munich for two days instead of an extensive trip involving planes and so forth. It was her first time in Munich, and I haven't been there since I was 18, so we hit up some of the more obvious places, such as Schloss Nymphenburg, the Rathause, a few churches, and downtown. When listing places famous historic sites in the Munich area, I mentioned Dachau, and she expressed a strong desire to go see it. So that's where we went Sunday afternoon.
This is the third time I've been to Dachau Concentration Camp. When I was 8, I was shocked to discover such systemized human cruelty but also inspired to learn about the subject and I felt everyone should know about it. When I was 18, I went with my best friend at the time and my grandfather. My grandfather, who is German, seemed less than happy about going, but he took us. Being a rather unsympathetic 18 year old who tended to see the world in black and white, I felt like he shouldn't have a problem with taking us to Dachau and should face his country's history and past (not that he hasn't in his own way, I'm sure, but he's never talked about World War 2 much, except when noting his displeasure about me being in the military).
Now that I'm 24, I have very mixed and difficult reactions. And they were caused less by the place I was than the people I saw around me. Almost all of the people I noticed and saw were American. I heard lots of English around me, and a few other languages, but little German. And I was kind of annoyed. My first reaction was, "you come all the way to Germany, and you come straight to the concentration camps? There's more to Germany than just that." But more so than that, something about the fact that Dachau has somehow become a tourist attraction or site strikes me in the wrong way. I believe that Dachau should remain standing and open to the public as a reminder of what happened. It is an important historic landmark. People should know their history, but where is the line between a tourist site and a historical monument? While I think people should focus on other parts of German history and not just the Holocaust, I also hate the idea of Dachau just being another place to mark off on the check list of "Places to See in Munich," that somehow it is simply another famous site to say they've visited without recognizing its meaning. If it inspires people to learn more about the subject that's great, or if someone has an ardent interest in history and came for that reason, I also respect that, but how many people actually realize just how significant the Holocaust was? Is it wrong for me to almost want a dress code in place because I find the idea of someone walking around in pajama pants or sweat pants in a former labor camp where thousands upon thousands of people died wrong? Am I just taking things too seriously when I feel uncomfortable hearing people laughing while walking around near the crematorium? I don't think there is a way to reconcile the idea of keeping Dachau open to the public and avoiding it becoming a tourist attraction, but it just got to me this weekend and it was a really unexpected reaction.
Book 20: Dead to the World
Dead to the World by Charlaine Harris
Even though I'm kind of trying to do the Cannonball Read 5K (though I doubt I really have time during the week to do that much reading), I read another of the Sookie Stackhouse novels over the weekend while in Munich. Since I figured I'd be sitting on the subway for a while, I wanted something that would fit in my bag without feeling like I was lugging a gigantic tome around (The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, being a hardcover is rather hefty).
Gotta say despite my rant over the last one, I actually kind of enjoyed this one. Yes, the word a day calendar was still in play but less obnoxious, possibly because I already raged about it. There was another instance of Sookie being more innocent than she logically should be, but the characters were more interesting, and the story line as well. And even better, Bill barely made an appearance in this one - I guess the guy annoys me so much he kind of sucks the life out of the novels - no pun intended. While Sookie was far from dependent on him before, it was still nice to his presence removed from the action, and to no longer have him slightly influencing or controlling her.
Harris expands upon the shapeshifter community even more in this one, though of course they've been in play in all the novels. Now, however, Sookie is also learning a little bit more about their hierarchy, though just like with the vampires, she only has glimpses here and there. In this story, evil witches have come to town, erased the mind of Eric, the most powerful vampire in the area, and are trying to take over the area from other supernatural beings. I know, it sounds ridiculous. And it by no means has anywhere near the depth or intelligence behind it that Buffy does, which could also occasionally sound ridiculous. But hey, as a light (both weight and attention-wise) read, this worked well, and it was fun. After Club Dead, it was actually nice to see the series improve some rather than continue to get worse or more annoying.
Even though I'm kind of trying to do the Cannonball Read 5K (though I doubt I really have time during the week to do that much reading), I read another of the Sookie Stackhouse novels over the weekend while in Munich. Since I figured I'd be sitting on the subway for a while, I wanted something that would fit in my bag without feeling like I was lugging a gigantic tome around (The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, being a hardcover is rather hefty).
Gotta say despite my rant over the last one, I actually kind of enjoyed this one. Yes, the word a day calendar was still in play but less obnoxious, possibly because I already raged about it. There was another instance of Sookie being more innocent than she logically should be, but the characters were more interesting, and the story line as well. And even better, Bill barely made an appearance in this one - I guess the guy annoys me so much he kind of sucks the life out of the novels - no pun intended. While Sookie was far from dependent on him before, it was still nice to his presence removed from the action, and to no longer have him slightly influencing or controlling her.
Harris expands upon the shapeshifter community even more in this one, though of course they've been in play in all the novels. Now, however, Sookie is also learning a little bit more about their hierarchy, though just like with the vampires, she only has glimpses here and there. In this story, evil witches have come to town, erased the mind of Eric, the most powerful vampire in the area, and are trying to take over the area from other supernatural beings. I know, it sounds ridiculous. And it by no means has anywhere near the depth or intelligence behind it that Buffy does, which could also occasionally sound ridiculous. But hey, as a light (both weight and attention-wise) read, this worked well, and it was fun. After Club Dead, it was actually nice to see the series improve some rather than continue to get worse or more annoying.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Book 19: The Story of Edgar Sawtelle
The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski
My mom sent me this book but of course I'd vaguely heard about it previously. When I read the book flaps, I remembered hearing that this was a retelling (reimagining/modernization) of Hamlet, as evidenced by names such as Claude and Trudy. In ways, that actually made this a difficult read - there is only one way for a Shakespearean tragedy to end, and while of course it's easy to feel sympathy for Hamlet and Ophelia in the play, there is also a sense that Hamlet was occasionally acting like a self-righteous jerk. Recognizing the inevitable fate of the fourteen year old mute boy in this novel, however, is a little more depressing. There's no other way it can end, but Edgar deserves his fate even less than Hamlet did.
The first two hundred pages describe Edgar's life on the farm where he and his family raise a special breed of dogs, known for their intelligence and training. While dog breeding isn't exactly a topic I have any interest in (I like cats), the story moved on quickly, and I was curious to see all the intricate details involved in their lives, and learn about Edgar and his family. After Gar, Edgar's father, dies, Edgar and his mother struggle to continue all their duties on the farm and deal with their grief. Eventually, they turn to Claude, Gar's estranged brother, for help. At this point, the novel starts to drag a little bit, and continues to drag after Edgar runs away from home. It doesn't really pick up again until Edgar meets and befriends a man named Henry. Like in the original Hamlet, once Edgar returns home, things occur very quickly, partially sped up by Claude's interventions and deceptions.
Being fourteen, Edgar doesn't have an actual love interest - his Ophelia is the dog Almondine. That's one other thing about this novel vs. the play - it's so much easier to deal with people suffering than animals, even fictional animals. Naturally, in addition to not being happy about the fate that awaited Edgar, I didn't want to deal with what would happen to Almondine or see the way Edgar treated her in his anger following his father's death. Overall, I thought it was actually a creative and well-done take on Hamlet (Edgar even uses the dogs to create the original play's play within a play), and the novel was very well-written. I think the middle could have been shortened, but other than that it was definitely worth the time.
My mom sent me this book but of course I'd vaguely heard about it previously. When I read the book flaps, I remembered hearing that this was a retelling (reimagining/modernization) of Hamlet, as evidenced by names such as Claude and Trudy. In ways, that actually made this a difficult read - there is only one way for a Shakespearean tragedy to end, and while of course it's easy to feel sympathy for Hamlet and Ophelia in the play, there is also a sense that Hamlet was occasionally acting like a self-righteous jerk. Recognizing the inevitable fate of the fourteen year old mute boy in this novel, however, is a little more depressing. There's no other way it can end, but Edgar deserves his fate even less than Hamlet did.
The first two hundred pages describe Edgar's life on the farm where he and his family raise a special breed of dogs, known for their intelligence and training. While dog breeding isn't exactly a topic I have any interest in (I like cats), the story moved on quickly, and I was curious to see all the intricate details involved in their lives, and learn about Edgar and his family. After Gar, Edgar's father, dies, Edgar and his mother struggle to continue all their duties on the farm and deal with their grief. Eventually, they turn to Claude, Gar's estranged brother, for help. At this point, the novel starts to drag a little bit, and continues to drag after Edgar runs away from home. It doesn't really pick up again until Edgar meets and befriends a man named Henry. Like in the original Hamlet, once Edgar returns home, things occur very quickly, partially sped up by Claude's interventions and deceptions.
Being fourteen, Edgar doesn't have an actual love interest - his Ophelia is the dog Almondine. That's one other thing about this novel vs. the play - it's so much easier to deal with people suffering than animals, even fictional animals. Naturally, in addition to not being happy about the fate that awaited Edgar, I didn't want to deal with what would happen to Almondine or see the way Edgar treated her in his anger following his father's death. Overall, I thought it was actually a creative and well-done take on Hamlet (Edgar even uses the dogs to create the original play's play within a play), and the novel was very well-written. I think the middle could have been shortened, but other than that it was definitely worth the time.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Book 18: The Bingo Palace
The Bingo Palace by Louise Erdrich
While there are a few Louise Erdrich novels I want to read, this wasn't necessarily one of them. A while back, a professor recommended this novelist, and cited one novel in particular, which actually sounds very intriguing. Erdrich's books aren't a series per se by any means, but they all revolve around the same community so characters weave in and out of her stories throughout the novels. As a result, as much as I wanted to read the one my friend recommended, I also decided I should read them in the order she wrote them. I liked Love Medicine and Tracks, but strongly disliked The Beet Queen. As a result, I was very hesitant about this one because the premise didn't sound that exciting to me, and it revolved around two characters that were the least sympathetic and interesting to me in Love Medicine (Lipsha Morrisset and Lyman Larmartine). However, I felt like I should stick to my plan, and go in order even though all the novels I really want to read by this author were written later on (The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse and Four Souls).
Considering my hesitations, the novel was better than I expected and I was actually willing to hear about Lipsha without getting irritated. In the beginning of the novel, Lipsha returns to the reservation after having been gone for a while, and immediately falls for Lyman's "girlfriend" Shawnee Ray. Their relationship is complicated, but they have a child together and seem like they'll end up together. Lipsha helps make things even more complicated since Shawnee Ray is obviously attracted to him, but also thinks he would be a bad choice. Unlike Lyman, Lipsha doesn't have much of future planned out and is incredibly unsettled and unstable. Shawnee Ray has to face a few options and choices in the novel, and ends up going against the wishes of a few characters in the novel to become more independent. The ending was kind of out there, but then again, that tends to be the trend for Erdrich. Except for maybe the last 20 to 30 pages during which the magic realism went a little overboard (or maybe I was just in a hurry to finish?), the book was good, but not great. At least, I'm another novel closer to the one I want to read.
While there are a few Louise Erdrich novels I want to read, this wasn't necessarily one of them. A while back, a professor recommended this novelist, and cited one novel in particular, which actually sounds very intriguing. Erdrich's books aren't a series per se by any means, but they all revolve around the same community so characters weave in and out of her stories throughout the novels. As a result, as much as I wanted to read the one my friend recommended, I also decided I should read them in the order she wrote them. I liked Love Medicine and Tracks, but strongly disliked The Beet Queen. As a result, I was very hesitant about this one because the premise didn't sound that exciting to me, and it revolved around two characters that were the least sympathetic and interesting to me in Love Medicine (Lipsha Morrisset and Lyman Larmartine). However, I felt like I should stick to my plan, and go in order even though all the novels I really want to read by this author were written later on (The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse and Four Souls).
Considering my hesitations, the novel was better than I expected and I was actually willing to hear about Lipsha without getting irritated. In the beginning of the novel, Lipsha returns to the reservation after having been gone for a while, and immediately falls for Lyman's "girlfriend" Shawnee Ray. Their relationship is complicated, but they have a child together and seem like they'll end up together. Lipsha helps make things even more complicated since Shawnee Ray is obviously attracted to him, but also thinks he would be a bad choice. Unlike Lyman, Lipsha doesn't have much of future planned out and is incredibly unsettled and unstable. Shawnee Ray has to face a few options and choices in the novel, and ends up going against the wishes of a few characters in the novel to become more independent. The ending was kind of out there, but then again, that tends to be the trend for Erdrich. Except for maybe the last 20 to 30 pages during which the magic realism went a little overboard (or maybe I was just in a hurry to finish?), the book was good, but not great. At least, I'm another novel closer to the one I want to read.
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