by Neil Gaiman & illustrated by Dave McKean
Much like The Day I Swapped My Dad For Two Goldfish, this is a collaboration of Neil Gaiman's story writing and Dave McKean's art. It's another kid's book, but The Wolves in the Walls is much better executed.
Lucy is a precocious little girl with a pig puppet (don't ask). When she starts hearing noises in the walls of their old house, she knows it's the wolves in the walls and if the wolves in the walls come out then it's all over. Everyone knows that apparently. Of course the wolves do come out of the walls and Lucy must lead and protect her somewhat vague and inept parents.
It's a fun little book and if I ever have kids I will be sure to read it to them.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
36-37. Vows and Honor (duo)
by Mercedes Lackey
36. The Oathbound
37.Oathbreakers
Another set of those nostalgic rereads for me. Even though these books follow two of Lackey's earliest created characters, I didn't discover them until I was in college. Lackey has said that she created her two heroines because she was sick of fantasy stereotypes.
I believe it. While Kethry and Tarma are no longer all that unique, they don't fit those classic stereotypes for fantasy women. They are not:
Dragon Fodder: This is your classic woman tied to a post waiting to be a dragon snack. These characters tend to be objects in a literal way. They are something to be attained or rescued but they never ever act on their own behalf.
Man with Boobs: Some of the early female fantasy protagonists were basically male characters with a thin veneer of female pronouns. They acted like men, they responded to things in a masculine way, and more often than not they just happened to be lesbians. Not that lesbians in the real world are any less feminine, but in the general make-up of this character type, this particular sexual preference was just another 'acts like a man' point.
Incompetent Wannabe Hero: These chicks are a half step up from Dragon Fodder. They act on their own behalfs but they are so incompetent that they always have to be rescued by much more competent men types. They mainly exist in stories to get into trouble. Plot devices aren't really characters.
Sass-mobile: I actually enjoy this one in moderation. A Sass-mobile is often one of the previous types with a bit of witty dialogue tacked on. They tend to talk a big game and then get in over their heads. They are never solo operators for long because someone eventually has to come in and rescue them.
They are, in fact, highly competent in their own ways. While they aren't perfect, they consider their choices and usually make pretty good ones. They are intelligent, and not observably over hormonal. It is refreshing to have female characters in a fantasy book who aren't crosses between adolescent male wank material and a stereotype.
While I like these books and they are quite satisfying to read, they aren't my favorites in the series.
36. The Oathbound
37.Oathbreakers
Another set of those nostalgic rereads for me. Even though these books follow two of Lackey's earliest created characters, I didn't discover them until I was in college. Lackey has said that she created her two heroines because she was sick of fantasy stereotypes.
I believe it. While Kethry and Tarma are no longer all that unique, they don't fit those classic stereotypes for fantasy women. They are not:
Dragon Fodder: This is your classic woman tied to a post waiting to be a dragon snack. These characters tend to be objects in a literal way. They are something to be attained or rescued but they never ever act on their own behalf.
Man with Boobs: Some of the early female fantasy protagonists were basically male characters with a thin veneer of female pronouns. They acted like men, they responded to things in a masculine way, and more often than not they just happened to be lesbians. Not that lesbians in the real world are any less feminine, but in the general make-up of this character type, this particular sexual preference was just another 'acts like a man' point.
Incompetent Wannabe Hero: These chicks are a half step up from Dragon Fodder. They act on their own behalfs but they are so incompetent that they always have to be rescued by much more competent men types. They mainly exist in stories to get into trouble. Plot devices aren't really characters.
Sass-mobile: I actually enjoy this one in moderation. A Sass-mobile is often one of the previous types with a bit of witty dialogue tacked on. They tend to talk a big game and then get in over their heads. They are never solo operators for long because someone eventually has to come in and rescue them.
They are, in fact, highly competent in their own ways. While they aren't perfect, they consider their choices and usually make pretty good ones. They are intelligent, and not observably over hormonal. It is refreshing to have female characters in a fantasy book who aren't crosses between adolescent male wank material and a stereotype.
While I like these books and they are quite satisfying to read, they aren't my favorites in the series.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
35. Genesis
by Bernard Beckett
I like old science fiction. I spent my early twenties reading Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Alfred Bester, Frank Herbert, Ursula K. LeGuin, and the list continues. I really liked that older material for its frank look at human nature. Really good science fiction is more than just a story, it's an exploration in search for some deeper truth.
Newer science fiction, while it has much to offer, seems to have lost sight of its origins. Most of the time it seems to be a perfectly ordinary story that just happens to be in space. There isn't all that much difference between boy meets girl and boy meets alien after all. So while there isn't really anything wrong with most of the new science fiction, it just doesn't call to me.
Genesis, however, definitely qualifies as new science fiction (pub 2010) yet manages to recapture some of that old sci fi spirit that I love so much. Beckett gives us a world in transition where the worst has already happened. War, famine, and isolation provide a backdrop for a culture oddly influenced by the ancient greeks. Society is monitored and controlled by the intellectual elite. Anaximander is a student going through something akin to a doctoral defense in order to entire this elite society. The entire story is in the format of an interview between Anaxamander and some sort of professorial panel. Anaxamander's thesis is on the history of one man, Adam Forde, who is a enigmatic and controversial figure responsible for the last enduring secret in an almost ideal society.
While the premise seems to invite a dry read, the story really drew me in. The sense that something wasn't quite right builds from the very beginning until it hits a surprising yet absolutely satisfying conclusion. I often find myself figuring out the twists in books like these well in advance of the reveal, but in this case I only figured it out about five pages before Beckett revealed it. Beckett is an excellent writer and thinker and I look forward to reading more of his books.
I like old science fiction. I spent my early twenties reading Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Alfred Bester, Frank Herbert, Ursula K. LeGuin, and the list continues. I really liked that older material for its frank look at human nature. Really good science fiction is more than just a story, it's an exploration in search for some deeper truth.
Newer science fiction, while it has much to offer, seems to have lost sight of its origins. Most of the time it seems to be a perfectly ordinary story that just happens to be in space. There isn't all that much difference between boy meets girl and boy meets alien after all. So while there isn't really anything wrong with most of the new science fiction, it just doesn't call to me.
Genesis, however, definitely qualifies as new science fiction (pub 2010) yet manages to recapture some of that old sci fi spirit that I love so much. Beckett gives us a world in transition where the worst has already happened. War, famine, and isolation provide a backdrop for a culture oddly influenced by the ancient greeks. Society is monitored and controlled by the intellectual elite. Anaximander is a student going through something akin to a doctoral defense in order to entire this elite society. The entire story is in the format of an interview between Anaxamander and some sort of professorial panel. Anaxamander's thesis is on the history of one man, Adam Forde, who is a enigmatic and controversial figure responsible for the last enduring secret in an almost ideal society.
While the premise seems to invite a dry read, the story really drew me in. The sense that something wasn't quite right builds from the very beginning until it hits a surprising yet absolutely satisfying conclusion. I often find myself figuring out the twists in books like these well in advance of the reveal, but in this case I only figured it out about five pages before Beckett revealed it. Beckett is an excellent writer and thinker and I look forward to reading more of his books.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
32-34. Queen's Own (Trilogy)
by Mercedes Lackey
32. Arrows of the Queen
33. Arrow's Flight
34. Arrow's Fall
I explained to a couple of kids on my cross country team during a recent meet that some books are like old friends. You can read them over and over and, instead of getting boring, they reveal new facets and comfort an over-stimulated mind. They had caught me, the scary brit lit teacher, reading a battered old fantasy novel and couldn't quite get it to fit with my rep for high brow literature. However, when I explained that it was a part of a series I'd discovered when I was about their age (14 or so), it lead to a very interesting conversation about why reading novels is valuable.
These three books are the launching trilogy for a fantasy world that contains over 30 books and kept me entertained through my teens. While these are not the books I started on, they are the logical entrance into the world. They follow the early years of the Queen's Own, Talia. In this world, the monarch of Valdemar needs a person that they can trust absolutely and this need is filled by the Queen's (or King's depending) Own. The position is filled they way all Heraldic positions are, by being chosen by the enigmatic Companions who look like pristine white horses but are in fact human smart and magically endowed.
In Arrows of the Queen, a young Talia is whisked away from a extraordinarily repressive and restrictive set of religious outliers called Holders. The culture seems similar to a fantasy adaptation of the worst stories of Mormons in the real world. Despite cultural expectations, Talia loves to read and resists blind conformity. However, the world turns upside down on her thirteenth birthday when her father's wives tell her it is time to get married. She runs away in a blind panic and is chosen by her companion Roland who promptly absconds with her to Valdemar's capitol, Haven. Once there, she discovers a world where her interests in learning are actually encouraged and where she is welcomed with open arms into a warm and accepting community. Not everything comes up roses though: the queen's only child has turned into an unruly class conscious brat, many suspect that the previous Queen's Own was murdered, and not everyone in the castle is as accepting of her as the Heralds.
By Arrow's Flight the heir to the throne has been turned back onto the right path, and Talia has earned her full-whites. In other terms, she's graduated to her full position. The only thing left for her to do before taking on the full responsibilities of the Queen's Own, is her internship circuit. A kind of rite of passage for all Heralds where they travel a route through the kingdom dispensing justice and providing an official conduit of information both to the outlying reaches of the kingdom and from those outlying areas to the capitol. So she packs up and heads off on her internship only to realize her control over her gift of empathy is imperfect at best and that there are many disturbing rumors circulating about her.
Finally, in Arrow's Fall, Talia returns triumphant to Haven having passed her internship with flying colors only to find that the High Council of Valdemar is pressuring the Queen to marry off her daughter post-haste to the son of a neighboring kingdom. Things seem a little too good to be true and Talia is sent back out on a diplomacy mission that goes disastrously awry.
I think as a teenager I identified with Talia a great deal. Not the repressive family life bit but the sort of awkward shyness of her mixed with deep empathy for others and a strict personal sense of morality. I like that she's so strong but also vulnerable and confused much of the time. It makes her endearing and believable. These days, I reread them and I find a piece of my childhood which was often wracked with confusion and the comfort I always found in how Talia got through it.
32. Arrows of the Queen
33. Arrow's Flight
34. Arrow's Fall
I explained to a couple of kids on my cross country team during a recent meet that some books are like old friends. You can read them over and over and, instead of getting boring, they reveal new facets and comfort an over-stimulated mind. They had caught me, the scary brit lit teacher, reading a battered old fantasy novel and couldn't quite get it to fit with my rep for high brow literature. However, when I explained that it was a part of a series I'd discovered when I was about their age (14 or so), it lead to a very interesting conversation about why reading novels is valuable.
These three books are the launching trilogy for a fantasy world that contains over 30 books and kept me entertained through my teens. While these are not the books I started on, they are the logical entrance into the world. They follow the early years of the Queen's Own, Talia. In this world, the monarch of Valdemar needs a person that they can trust absolutely and this need is filled by the Queen's (or King's depending) Own. The position is filled they way all Heraldic positions are, by being chosen by the enigmatic Companions who look like pristine white horses but are in fact human smart and magically endowed.
In Arrows of the Queen, a young Talia is whisked away from a extraordinarily repressive and restrictive set of religious outliers called Holders. The culture seems similar to a fantasy adaptation of the worst stories of Mormons in the real world. Despite cultural expectations, Talia loves to read and resists blind conformity. However, the world turns upside down on her thirteenth birthday when her father's wives tell her it is time to get married. She runs away in a blind panic and is chosen by her companion Roland who promptly absconds with her to Valdemar's capitol, Haven. Once there, she discovers a world where her interests in learning are actually encouraged and where she is welcomed with open arms into a warm and accepting community. Not everything comes up roses though: the queen's only child has turned into an unruly class conscious brat, many suspect that the previous Queen's Own was murdered, and not everyone in the castle is as accepting of her as the Heralds.
By Arrow's Flight the heir to the throne has been turned back onto the right path, and Talia has earned her full-whites. In other terms, she's graduated to her full position. The only thing left for her to do before taking on the full responsibilities of the Queen's Own, is her internship circuit. A kind of rite of passage for all Heralds where they travel a route through the kingdom dispensing justice and providing an official conduit of information both to the outlying reaches of the kingdom and from those outlying areas to the capitol. So she packs up and heads off on her internship only to realize her control over her gift of empathy is imperfect at best and that there are many disturbing rumors circulating about her.
Finally, in Arrow's Fall, Talia returns triumphant to Haven having passed her internship with flying colors only to find that the High Council of Valdemar is pressuring the Queen to marry off her daughter post-haste to the son of a neighboring kingdom. Things seem a little too good to be true and Talia is sent back out on a diplomacy mission that goes disastrously awry.
I think as a teenager I identified with Talia a great deal. Not the repressive family life bit but the sort of awkward shyness of her mixed with deep empathy for others and a strict personal sense of morality. I like that she's so strong but also vulnerable and confused much of the time. It makes her endearing and believable. These days, I reread them and I find a piece of my childhood which was often wracked with confusion and the comfort I always found in how Talia got through it.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
31. The Postman Always Rings Twice
by James M. Cain
I like reading books that have been banned at some point. It's not that the books themselves are so shocking to me usually, but that by reading them I get a window into what used to be shocking. I gain a lot of insight into various cultures by looking at their taboos through literature. The Postman Always Rings Twice was published in 1934 and promptly banned in Boston for it's mix of dark sexuality and graphically described violence.
By today's standards Postman is still pretty jarring. English slang has shifted significantly in the intervening 75 years making some of the dialog difficult to follow but the main events are pretty clear. Cora, the main female character, is a manipulative serial monogamist who jumps between two mates: Nick her Greek immigrant husband (both steady and loyal) and Frank the American ne'er-do-well who offers danger and excitement but no stability. Frank and Cora start a relationship right under her husband's nose and soon they decide to invent the perfect crime. After one failed attempt, Frank and Cora's relationship get's rocky. Things devolve from there.
The story has long supposed to be based on the real 1927 Ruth Snyder case. The Snyder case was outlined in one of my recent reads, The Poisoner's Handbook, and is why I picked up the book. However, Postman is a book that appears in any serious discussion of crime noir literature. In addition, it appears at the bottom of the Modern Library Association's list of 100 Best Novels. While I'm not sure it's quite deserving of it's status on the basis of the writing, the content does provide a unique look at the crazy out of control times around prohibition and it was seminal to the development of the hardboiled genre.
I like reading books that have been banned at some point. It's not that the books themselves are so shocking to me usually, but that by reading them I get a window into what used to be shocking. I gain a lot of insight into various cultures by looking at their taboos through literature. The Postman Always Rings Twice was published in 1934 and promptly banned in Boston for it's mix of dark sexuality and graphically described violence.
By today's standards Postman is still pretty jarring. English slang has shifted significantly in the intervening 75 years making some of the dialog difficult to follow but the main events are pretty clear. Cora, the main female character, is a manipulative serial monogamist who jumps between two mates: Nick her Greek immigrant husband (both steady and loyal) and Frank the American ne'er-do-well who offers danger and excitement but no stability. Frank and Cora start a relationship right under her husband's nose and soon they decide to invent the perfect crime. After one failed attempt, Frank and Cora's relationship get's rocky. Things devolve from there.
The story has long supposed to be based on the real 1927 Ruth Snyder case. The Snyder case was outlined in one of my recent reads, The Poisoner's Handbook, and is why I picked up the book. However, Postman is a book that appears in any serious discussion of crime noir literature. In addition, it appears at the bottom of the Modern Library Association's list of 100 Best Novels. While I'm not sure it's quite deserving of it's status on the basis of the writing, the content does provide a unique look at the crazy out of control times around prohibition and it was seminal to the development of the hardboiled genre.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
30. The Vicar of Nibbleswicke
by Roald Dahl
Roald Dahl is well known for a relatively small segment of his writings. Among the remaining works are a large number of short stories and a dozen or so other children's books. I've been slogging through the lesser known children's material as a part of some sort of completionist quest to conquer the Dahl-ian oeuvre. Some of these are better than others.
The Vicar of Nibbleswicke is really less a book, even in the world of children's lit, and more a short story. The Vicar is a well-meaning god-fearing Anglican who has an unfortunate tendency to verbally and spontaneously say works backwards. So if he meant to say, "please park on the lawn," it might come out, "please krap on the lawn." It's actually a pretty nifty concept for a kid's book but it has nothing to do with dyslexia as the doctor in the book asserts.
It's very short and doesn't stand out in any direction. Very few things in this world inspire me to apathy. This is one that does.
Roald Dahl is well known for a relatively small segment of his writings. Among the remaining works are a large number of short stories and a dozen or so other children's books. I've been slogging through the lesser known children's material as a part of some sort of completionist quest to conquer the Dahl-ian oeuvre. Some of these are better than others.
The Vicar of Nibbleswicke is really less a book, even in the world of children's lit, and more a short story. The Vicar is a well-meaning god-fearing Anglican who has an unfortunate tendency to verbally and spontaneously say works backwards. So if he meant to say, "please park on the lawn," it might come out, "please krap on the lawn." It's actually a pretty nifty concept for a kid's book but it has nothing to do with dyslexia as the doctor in the book asserts.
It's very short and doesn't stand out in any direction. Very few things in this world inspire me to apathy. This is one that does.
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