Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Book 24: The Last Letter from Your Lover

 
I was actually very pleasantly surprised by this novel.  I was looking for a light read, because otherwise the title and description would have probably driven me off (even though I really liked the cover photo).  Dual narrative novels seem to be rather popular, and sometimes, they are very well done.  Usually, however, one of the narratives, usually the one set in the past, is much stronger, and the second narrative in fact detracts from the story (Sarah's Key is a prime example).  This isn't completely untrue in this novel, either, but fortunately the one narrative is very strong, and the secondary narrative is not so weak as to take away from that.  In fact, the secondary narrative was probably closer to that light novel I thought I was getting, while the primary narrative was a moving love story.
 
The other thing that helps this novel's dual narrative is that it isn't done in the traditional manner of alternating between past and present day occurences - the modern story doesn't even begin until the novel is over halfway through.  The novel begins in a hospital room in 1960.  The patient, Jennifer Stirling, has been in a car accident, and doesn't remember her life, her husband or who she is.  Upon her release, she tries to reconnect with her old life, and remember who she is, but she doesn't feel comfortable.  Additionally, her family and friends seem to be expect her to just act normally again, adding to her pressure to remember and to pretend that she does.  While trying to rediscover herself, she stumbles upon a love letter signed "B," thus realizing that she had been involved in an extramarital affair.  She isn't completely sure how she feels about this and her deception, but she is soon looking for answers to the man's identity and the passionate love affair the letter testifies to.  At this point, the narrative flashes back and forth between Jennifer, and a reporter named Anthony who meets her while doing a story on the French Riviera.
 
Eventually the narrative moves forward to the present with a few stops along the way, and Ellie, a young journalist, stumbles upon one of the letters while doing research for an article.  Ellie has been acting as the other woman in an extramarital affair, and quickly feels a connection to the mysterious letters.  This affair has also caused her to be incredibly distracted and careless, so that this article may very well be the key to keeping her job.  Ellie is not necessarily very easy to like, not even because of the affair, but due to how stupidly she acts because of it, ditching friends, work etc for last minute meet ups.  While it was easy to feel sympathy for Jennifer, Ellie was a bit too self absorbed, and let the affair control her life.  I guess that when it comes down to it I'm really not that much of a romantic because I don't think I could ever imagine letting myself become unreliable and incompetent due to a relationship.  Fortunately, while Ellie isn't exactly that great, she is only in the last part of the novel, and her research does lead to some answers regarding the fate of Jennifer and B.
 
As I said above, it's definitely a much stronger and better novel than I would have expected from the title, and Jennifer's story is definitely good enough to make it worth the read.  While Ellie isn't an entirely sympathetic character and some things about her seriously bugged me, I don't think her presence weakens the novel.  In fact her story shows just how extraordinarily rare the type of passion Jennifer and B experience actually is. 

Monday, October 29, 2012

Book 23: Dark Echo

 
I picked this one up based on Siege's review and I wasn't disappointed.  Martin is the narrator for the majority of the story, and his rich, successful father has recently announced his retirement to focus on his goal: sail the recently bought Dark Echo across the Atlantic to the United States.  While Martin and his father don't not get along, they aren't necessarily very close: Martin's comparatively sheltered life  has meant that he hasn't had to work as hard as his father, so his father has a hard time relating, and Martin feels he is a disappointment to his father.  As a result, he accepts his father's invitation to join him on his maiden voyage.  Between all the prep work the two men have to do to become competent sailors, and the restorations on the 80 year old ship, Martin has six months to prepare himself for this trip, and to start feeling trepidation.  As it turns out, there is something off about the ship, and its original owner, Harry Spalding, also doesn't seem to be all that meets the eye.  The official story is that he was an American playboy that hung out with the likes of Ernest Hemingway, before killing himself.  However, it quickly turns out that there is a dark side to all of this.
 
Suzanne, Martin's live in girlfriend, is a researcher for BBC documentaries working on a piece on Michael Collins.  However, she too starts to feel the weird vibes coming from the Dark Echo and finds time to do research on the ship, and its owner.  Mishaps and accidents at the boatyard slow down the reparation, but Martin's father is undeterred.  Cottam eventually weaves a tight background story, and it is obvious from the beginning that Spalding is evil since the novel starts out with a mysterious raid on a cathedrale during World War I.  Spalding was in charge of an elite and savage troop during the war, and their story ties into Spalding's history and flirtations with the dark.
 
I quite enjoyed the background story that Cottam developed for this novel, and how it slowly builds up.  I actually was more interested in the events that had happened in the past than the present day parts of the novel concerning the ship, but it was very well plotted.  It seems like ghost stories often just loose their steam somewhere, and I definitely don't think that applies in this case.  As much as I enjoyed the story, I wasn't really that scared.  I was hoping for a nice spooky story for Halloween (especially since I was too chicken to see Sinister by myself), and while it was a nice, moody story, I also wasn't jumping at shadows after reading it.  It may have helped if I'd read it at night.

Book 22: Joss Whedon

 
While in college, I wrote a paper on Buffy the Vampire Slayer for my "Girls and Culture" class, and a paper on prostitution in Firefly/Serenity for my Gender Studies senior seminar.  Obviously, I've read a few critical pieces on Whedon already, but I was still excited about this book.  As it says above, it focuses on all his work, including comics, Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog as well as the usual suspects.  Though it was compiled last year, it even includes short articles on The Cabin in the Woods and The Avengers, though these obviously deal less with analysis of at the time unseen pieces, and instead basically mention their existence, and Joss Whedon's skill at working with ensembles.
 
Overall, I definitely enjoyed reading the analysis, and the different articles.  I especially enjoyed the analysis on Dollhouse, and certain aspects of Angel since most of the analysis I've read so far has focused on Buffy.  As a result, I quite enjoyed reading perspectives on these other works of Whedon.  The editor tried to give voice to a large range of readings, and while this definitely was nice, it also left me wanting more since several articles were a bit short.  There were also a few articles that were drawing conclusions before I even knew what they were trying to argue.  Overall though, it was a good collection and nice intro to the analysis of Whedon.  I wasn't quite as interested in some of the articles that dealt less with the text and more with the behind scenes work.  It is not that some of that wasn't good to know, it just didn't grab me in the same way.  However, since all the articles were rather short, that also meant that topics I was less intrigued with were handled quickly.  I also was mixed on the articles on the comics, mostly because that is the area on Whedon where I am weakest.  I haven't read any beyond Buffy Season 8, which I didn't necessarily enjoy that much.  However, I think the editor realized this would be a weak spot since most of those articles read more as intros to the work rather than deep textual analysis.
 
I find it hard to say much about this book since it is a collection of such a large variety of short pieces.  I certainly enjoyed many of the essays but I can't say that one in particular stands out as a favorite (there were, however, one or two where I wanted to tell the author "I don't think that's what the line of dialogue meant/was referring to").  They all emphasize Whedon's ability to develop characters, and how he goes for the unpredictable, and will show how people aren't static, showing growth, development, and blurring the lines between right/wrong, moral/immoral, good/bad.  For example, his heroes occasionally do the wrong thing for the right reasons and don't always win.  I also liked the articles that vindicated Dollhouse.  Now, I know the show had its flaws, but apparently there were some complaints about it being sexist.  Obviously, the women weren't empowered like Buffy was (especially in the beginning) but it seemed like that was the point.  By focusing on their oppression, Whedon shows the sexism of the system.  I mean, it's not like people are going to say Mad Men is sexist - the characters and the time period were, but I don't get that impression regarding the actual show.  While there are several books already devoted to Whedon and his works, this is a good one for including all his projects, and includes a bit of a "where to go from here" section at the end.  I would say that while there is honest assessment in this book, and the writers admit when certain seasons etc. didn't work, this is probably a more celebratory guide than some of the other available Whedon-studies books which include some articles with more negative interpretations.  I'm not saying the negative ones are right, but they certainly add a different view.  I would definitely recommend this for any Whedon fans, though.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Book 21: A Monstrous Regiment of Women

 
The second novel in the Mary Russell series begins right as Mary is about to turn 21, reach her majority and have access to her inheritance which up until now has been in trust.  While the first novel of the series, The Beekeeper's Apprentice, didn't necessarily have a great mystery, I figured it was due to the fact that King was setting up a series and introducing the characters.  However, the mystery in this novel is even weaker, and I couldn't get much a grasp on Mary as a character.  She just seemed so all over the place.  One minute she is spontaneously going to see Sherlock Holmes, then she is dressed in men's clothes to go to London, then she is going on huge shopping sprees with her newly received inheritance after barely showing an interest in clothes.  She cites the fact that her allowance is so small as the reason that she doesn't have newer clothes before this, but given her freedom of movement and the fact that she can borrow money from Holmes when convenient, the lack of money doesn't quite ring true, even though she also mentioned it in the previous book when her actions seemed in accordance with it.  And apparently some of her shopping is to portray herself in a certain way as part of her investigation but honestly, her actions were just too conflicting too me, or maybe I just didn't have a good enough sense of the geography of London and its surrounding areas.
 
While in London, Mary runs into a friend from college that is involved with the New Temple of God, a group of women that do community work to help impoverished women, and are under the leadership of Margery Childe, mystic and feminist.  Mary, a theology student who has just completed her thesis, comes along out of curiosity.  I understand that Mary is supposed to be skeptical but I did get rather annoyed with how much she seemed to doubt Childe's intentions, thinking she must have an ulterior motive of some sort or some plan to try to get more power.  Can't the woman just want to help others and raise awareness?  However, I think this may have been King showing how her character has been influenced by her past.  And yes, later Mary discovers that it seems like a comparatively large amount of women from the congregation have died.  I admit I also was very irritated with a line early on in the novel, which may have also made me a bit judgmental.  When Mary first meets Margery, she mentions that Margery, a feminist, actually has a sense of humor, something that is generally lacking in feminists.  This may have even been tongue in cheek, but after all the articles about how women can't be funny, and the stereotype of the humorless feminist, I was irritated.  Why not just say, she has a sense of humor if you're trying to prove a point?  As I said it may have been and probably was tongue in cheek but it didn't strike me that way (if it is about proving a point say something like "despite common belief," because as I said the lack of humor sounded like something the narrator believed, not something she was making joking about).  Anyway, for the most part, I actually enjoyed the interactions with Margery, even some of the biblical discussions.  Mary is shocked that Margery was able to come to certain conclusions without the scholarly training she had had, but also illustrates to Margery why it is important to not just come at it from a layman perspective since being able to read the original texts also assists in finding prejudices in the text based on the translation choices made.
 
Honestly, if this hadn't been a mystery novel, I would have mostly enjoyed the parts in the beginning, especially from a slightly different narrator (something about Mary was just off in this novel).  Unfortunately it was a mystery, and not even an interesting one.  It really doesn't even start to develop till more than halfway through, there are at that time only one or two possible suspects to be investigated which eventually lead to more.  I'm also kind of irritated with the fact that in both novels in the series, Mary has to be nursed back to health after certain incidents.  Seriously?  Can we not victimize the heroine?  I also wish the author hadn't felt the need to change the relationship between Holmes and Russell since much of the book also addresses Mary's confusion and avoidance of certain feelings.  I actually picked up the third novel when I bought this since I thought I'd enjoy them, so I will see if the third improves.  I'll still read it, but I'm not in a rush - this novel wasn't necessarily that bad, but it definitely wasn't as good as I hoped it could be, or even expected it to be.

Book 20: Clara and Mr. Tiffany

 
While I liked the author's previous novel, The Girl in the Hyacinth Dress, it also made me hesitant to pick up this novel, Clara and Mr. Tiffany.  I've seen Tiffany glass at a few museums, and it is absolutely gorgeous.  However, while I enjoyed The Girl in the Hyacinth Dress, it wasn't exactly a gripping piece - it was a series of vignettes, most of which were moving and had strong characters but I wasn't sure if I really wanted to read an entire novel told at that pace rather than a series of related stories.  Overall, I would say I probably got exactly what I expected.  It seemed like it took me forever to finish this novel, not because it was bad, but it was paced rather leisurely so I wasn't in a hurry to find out what happened next.
 
Clara Driscoll was the head of the Women's Department for Tiffany Glass, run by Louis Comfort Tiffany (son of the jewelry store Tiffany).  In recent years, it has come to light that Clara created the original Tiffany lamp design, or was at least a very crucial part of the creation process.  Of course, she didn't receive any public recognition for her part, and people assumed they were a Tiffany creation.  While I can understand her frustration with this lack of recognition, I also feel like this would be normal.  Even today, just because a certain dress has a designer label such as Oscar de la Renta doesn't mean I assume he designed the dress - instead, I would believe that it was designed with his vision in mind by people he hired because their talents and vision were in line with his.  However, I am sure that the person actually behind the dress would appreciate some recognition.  And today, Tiffany & Co has different lines of jewelry named after their designers, so occasionally the designers can get some recognition.  In this novel, Clara greatly admires Tiffany's vision and creativity, but also feels conflicted for the reasons above.  Additionally, Tiffany has a policy not to hire married women, so the book's description makes it sound as if Clara has to make a choice between professional and personal fulfillment though I don't feel like that was portrayed as that much of a conflict, especially for the majority of the novel.  Clara has already left the women's department once to marry but returned upon her husband's death.
 
The novel basically follows Clara's life from her return to Tiffany Glass after the end of her first marriage around 1892 through around 1909, covering almost two decades.  While there are some obvious conflicts, the novel is written in such a way that they barely seem like conflicts.  To be honest, the characters seemed a bit flat to me.  Clara becomes engaged at one point, develops friendships with various people at her boarding house, and guides and mentors many girls and women in the art of glass cutting, selecting and designing.  At one point, the women's department also comes under attack from the men who feel like the women are threatening their jobs.  Additionally, Clara is often irritated by the money making aspect of the job, feeling that the men in charge of the budget are too concerned with quick reproducibility rather creativity and thus impede on her artistic vision.
 
However, I wish the novel had been accompanied by pictures - Vreeland gives amazing and detailed descriptions of the lamps and glasses that they make, and has definitely done a lot of research into the glass industry.  While this makes for some very nice and interesting passages, it doesn't lead itself to a very plot driven or exciting narrative.  Basically, if someone is interested in the process behind Tiffany lamps, this book definitely has the information.  If someone is looking for a plot driven novel, this isn't it.  I'm pretty sure you could skip several pages, and it wouldn't exactly matter to the understanding of the story.  In a way this is unfortunate, since from what I understand Clara was rather unconventional, and while the novel certainly hints at it, it seems to lack a certain amount of energy.  This doesn't make it a bad novel at all, but it does mean it took me forever to finish since I was easily distracted by other things such as Facebook and DVDs rather than my need to see what happened to Clara since it didn't feel like anything really happened to Clara even though this isn't true.

Book 19: The Protector's War

 
This novel is the sequel to Dies the Fire, the first in a trilogy that explores what would happen if all man made power and energy simply stopped working.  When starting a new series or trilogy it can be nice to know that the entire series is already published, but this can also lead to other issues.  For example, when reading the novels back to back rather than having to wait a year or two between novels, certain flaws become more obvious, or certain things suddenly get a bit annoying.  It is obviously necessary to remind readers of the events that occurred in previous novels but how much of a reminder is required depends on time between novels.  In the case of this series, I occasionally felt like I was getting hit upside the head with the repetition, especially when describing certain main characters such as Mike, the former marine from Michigan with a Finnish background (and a Finnish battle cry) and some Native American blood.  It got a little old to say the least.  More annoying to me, though, were Juniper Mackenzie's constant Gaelic sayings.  Got it, you have Irish ancestors, you're a Wiccan, but you're from Oregon.  There is just something about it that seems put on rather than making her seem wise and folksy.  I think this may be me though - I enjoy reading about druids and such in their historical setting but I quickly roll my eyes at new ageism and discussions of inner goddesses (sorry to offend, some of this may be a result of lack of knowledge in belief systems).  Of course, based on the fact that her son Rudie's craft name is Artos, and he forms an instant bond with a horse, it is rather clear that Stirling may be insinuating that Rudie is a kind of reincarnation of King Arthur (also, there is a follow up series to this trilogy which focuses on Rudie, and one of the titles has something to do with a sword).
 
The novel takes place about eight years after the change, or the ending of the last novel.  Most of the areas have stabilized and have managed to become more or less prosperous depending on the area, but the threat of the Protectorate in Portland and its surrounding area still looms.  Arminger, their leader or "the Protector," wants to expand and create an empire, and the Mackenzies and the Bear Clan (Mike's people) are the ones that will be most immediately affected.  In addition to being slightly annoyed with all the Gaelic sayings, I wasn't really that into all the Elvish.  Yes, that's right - Astrid Larsson, a Lord of the Rings fanatic, has become an amazing fighter and with her friend Eilir, leads some of the younger people (ie late teens/early twenties) in a band of warriors or rangers, drawing much inspiration from Tolkien's works.  I guess I can see the reasoning from a tactical perspective to speak in a code that enemy troops might not understand, but it was a bit much just the same.  How much one enjoys these types of references probably all depends on what one's childhood obsessions were.
 
Given that, my favorite part of the novel was when Stirling expands his view from Oregon's Willamette Valley and gives a glimpse of what has happened in the rest of the world, particularly Europe and England.  The United Kingdom has survived under King Charles III, and they are going back to their roots by colonizing the parts of Europe that weren't quite as lucky in their survival (Britain's main advantage was some of its islands off the coasts while countries like Germany and France were too densely populated throughout to have many, if any, survivors).  Additionally, Tasmania survived the incident rather well, and like the British, are sending out exploration teams to discover the state of affairs in the world.  It is via a Tasmanian ship that three Englishmen find themselves in Oregon.  Sir Nigel Loring, his son Alleyne, and his son's friend, John Hordle, have to leave Britain after angering King Charles III, and quickly become involved in the politics of the Willamette Valley (and naturally there are three single women located there to help these men who are "in want of a wife").
 
Overall the novel wasn't bad, but the weaknesses of the first novel are certainly magnified in this one, and certain character traits are so focused on that they detract from the story.  While I can understand the idea that with lack of technology, certain things would regress quickly, I'm just not sure I buy it or that the establishment of new types of culture happening quite as quickly as they do.  Also, the title is slightly misleading since there are a few skirmishes in this novel that lead to political issues, but the war doesn't actually begin until the next novel, and this novel simply deals with the incidents leading up to its development.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Book 18: Q

 
I heard about this novel after reading another Cannonball review for it, and finally picked it up last week.  While I couldn't help asking myself a simple question regarding the unnamed narrator's dilemma, I still went with the story, and quite enjoyed where it went.  The narrator is basically living his idea of the perfect life - he is a college history professor, a published writer (though his first book has sold only 1500 copies), and lives in New York with his fiance, the beautiful, intelligent Q, short for Quentina Elizabeth Deveril.   Shortly after the engagement, the narrator receives a visit from his future self, or I-60 as he refers to him, warning him against marrying Q.  Time travel has been invented in the future, and I-60 has returned to the past to save himself and Q future misery. 
 
Naturally, the protagonist needs more of an explanation, and over the course of three dinners, I-60 explains his purpose and the reasoning behind his warning.  If Q and he get married, they will have a wonderful time together, and have an incredible child that will develop a genetic disease for which both his parents are carriers, and die, thus destroying Q and the protagonist.  Naturally, my first reaction to this was "don't have kids, adopt" but the protagonist never seems to consider the option and since he doesn't actually discuss this with Q prior to breaking off the engagement, she doesn't get to come up with a solution, either.  However, I feel like the author vaguely addressed this when he had his narrator discuss his favorite episode of The Twilight Zone - in a romantic gesture, the episode's hero avoids suspended animation during a space mission, thus coming back to Earth forty years later, aged forty year so he could be with the woman he loved.  She, on the other hand, had put herself in suspended animation so she would remain young.  As a result, one aged, one didn't; it was simply the reverse of the expected.  This novel's protagonist sees the gesture as incredibly romantic while Q simply responds by saying they should have talked before the mission.  Basically, we get the idea that the protagonist may be prone to large gestures rather than pragmatic solutions.  The closest he gets to approaching the topic with Q is asking if she would want to know when she was going to die (she doesn't) which is a far cry from "if you knew you were going to have a child, but that child would die, would you still have the child or what would you do?"  I think people may have completely different responses to something that would affect them vs someone they love.
 
However, that's one of the things I quite enjoyed about the novel - while I liked the protagonist, I also got the idea that he was rather full of himself on occasion, and that the author was poking fun at him.  After the narrator follows I-60's advice, he soon finds himself visited by another future version of himself, the version that didn't marry Q, who has other advice regarding what the narrator should do with his future.  However, basically, every time he changes his life, it ends up that his future self is unhappy with the results, and still has regrets.  At first they give him advice on love and relationships, then on his career, and finally just which hobbies he should choose to find fulfillment and develop relationships of any sort (he also spends less and less time on each new development as the visitors from the future just keep coming).  It is easy to feel pity for some of these future versions.  When one of his future versions tells him to stop writing alternative history stories about topics that no one finds interesting nor have any impact really (ie his first novel answered the question what would have happened if William Henry Harrison hadn't died 32 days into his term - answers: the abolition of slavery would have been slightly delayed), and to write funny stories instead, the reader gets to hear about how hilarious the protagonist is in the classroom setting but it is absolutely clear that he isn't and the author makes sure that the reader knows exactly how unaware the narrator is of this fact. 
 
While the novel is framed by the love story, much more of it deals with the repercussions of the narrator trying to change his life to fix the regrets of his future selves.  While there is a certainly a sense of something slightly tragic as the narrator goes from one endeavor to the other, only to find that none of them have improved his life, and possibly have only made his future more empty, Mandery also throws in some humor.  In fact he even makes fun of writing and writers.  The narrator has no idea what makes for a good story or premise, and the novel includes excerpts from his alternative history on Freud, asking the question that no one has ever asked: what if Freud had become a bioligist instead of a psychoanalyst.  Also, I'm pretty sure if anyone in the history of the world has ever contemplated that question, it was more out of curiosity regarding what would have happened to the world of psychology rather than what contributions he would have made to the other field.  I assume there are plenty of time authors in real life are gripped by an idea and invest a huge amount of time before realizing that no one else would be interested.  The narrator (and I assume the author) is a big sci-fi fan and makes references to various shows and novels, including The Twilight Zone and BSG.  In fact, even Q's actual name and initials seem to be taken from a shortlived 1980s sci-fi show.  Overall I would definitely recommend this, though it isn't the epic love story one might expect from the beginning or the description.  There is a certain amount of whimsy and while Q remains the love of the protagonist's life throughout everything, the story is just as much, if not more, about a life nearly wasted by the protagonist's constant quest to improve his future as it is about a love story.  Rather than gaining experiences or making his own decisions and failures, he keeps changing course beforehand.  As a result, he has no failure to look back on, but he has no true successes, either.