February 2018 reading thread

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Starting American Gods by Neil Gaiman. It's odd because I've had this for a few years and was convinced I'd read it!

Began what I thought was a re-read and instead found a totally different story.

(So the one I read that starts with Thor working in a late night burger bar is another book altogether! :D)
 
Finished W is for Wasted by Sue Grafton. An okay thriller but far, far too chatty for my tastes.

Also finished The Autumn Republic by Brian McClellan, and thought it was a strong book to close the Powder Mage trilogy - review here.
 
Starting American Gods by Neil Gaiman. It's odd because I've had this for a few years and was convinced I'd read it!

Began what I thought was a re-read and instead found a totally different story.

(So the one I read that starts with Thor working in a late night burger bar is another book altogether! :D)
Isn’t that 80’s classic the Human League’s ‘Don’t you want me thundergod,Odinspawn?’
 
I've begun The Ulsterman, Frank Farnkfort Moore's 1914 novel that Warnie Lewis (C. S. Lewis's brother) found helpful for understanding his upbringing. It's set in the town of Arderry, which appears to be close to Belfast, with several of the main characters being members of a mill-owner's family. It begins with the thunder of the lambeg drums at midnight going into the 12th of July.

I don't know very much about Irish history, but the novel is interesting; I would say it reminds me more of Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South than any other novel that's come to mind so far, although Gaskell is the better writer.

I'm reading the published letters of R. C. Hutchinson and Martyn Skinner (novelist and poet, respectively). Skinner wrote two near-future narrative poems, The Return of Arthur and Old Rectory. I've read the former and written about it here:

Dale Nelson on an “Easy to Read” Modern Arthurian Epic

I have a copy of Old Rectory but haven't read it yet. The title refers to a person, not a dwelling-place, and the setting is a post-plague future England.

Hutchinson was once quite a popular novelist. I have ordered a used copy of his large Testament.

I'm rereading Dostoevsky's Demons and reading some other things too.
 
I've begun The Ulsterman, Frank Farnkfort Moore's 1914 novel that Warnie Lewis (C. S. Lewis's brother) found helpful for understanding his upbringing. It's set in the town of Arderry, which appears to be close to Belfast, with several of the main characters being members of a mill-owner's family. It begins with the thunder of the lambeg drums at midnight going into the 12th of July.

I assume it's a fictional town as I don't know of any town of that name. But if it's dealing with Jack Lewis's life it'll more than likely be based to the east of Belfast, perhaps towards the Crawfordsburn direction (he honeymooned there, iirc) or one of the outlying districts of East Belfast.

It used to be the traditional in Protestant/Unionist areas to see in the 12th day with bonfires and drumming/fluting. Nowadays, the flutes are still quite common at the fires, but the drums less so. In the morning, the bands pick the lodge master up from his house and they march to the lodges, banging the drums the whole way.
 
Interesting, Jo. Lewis grew up in a house called Little Lea, 76 Circular Road, Strandtown, Belfast. My impression is that this was a neighborhood for the more prosperous members of the middle class.

Moore describes "Arderry": "one of the large villages or small towns of Ulster. It has a population of close upon three thousand, and all are more comfortably and more cheaply housed than any artisan community in the kingdom. There is not an insanitary dwelling in Arderry, and not one that is not as ugly as a house can be made by man. Two long rows form a street so straight that it might have been planned by Peter the Great on the lines laid down by him for the road between the old capital and the new. The shop fronts -- a baker's, a draper's, a grocer's, and a tailor's, all on a small scale -- cause the only divergence from the monotony of the architecture. There is no patch of garden at any house, although there are meadows all around the town, and farms here and there on to the low hills of Ballyshane. ...An appreciation of anything that is only beautiful has no place in mid-Ulster; if it is useful or if money can be made of it, it will be valued in spite of its beauty" (p. 11).

In describing the lambeg drumming, Moore mentions somewhere the thing about the drummers' wrists bleeding.
 
Yes, that's where he's mostly linked to - the relatively well off East side of the city (there's a park there with some fantastic Narnia statues now) but those roads would have abutted the working class areas of the Shipyard, so he would have known it well. The only Arderry's I can find are in the Republic of Ireland, and I'm pretty familiar with the parts of Belfast and Co Down Lewis was connected with and am pretty sure I'd know of such a decent sized town.

It sounds to me that he's chosen to set it in a pretty generic town of that part of the world. However, here's the confusion: mid-Ulster is usually Co Antrim, over towards Ballymena, and Lewis is connected pretty securely with Co Down. Now, the towns and what not are pretty similar in those two counties but, even so, it all reads as a little confused.
 
I think what Warnie Lewis was responding to, in F. F. Moore's novel, was the way families lived in that time. He seems to have felt a real sense of recognition. He particularly mentions tension between fathers and sons, and fathers chronically needling sons -- "catching them on the raw." What Warnie had seen more as an exasperating quality of his father's personality, he came to think was (as we'd say now) part of the culture.

Well, here, I'll quote Lewis, writing in his diary 20 August 1967 of Moore's 1914 novel --

---After tea I began to re-read The Ulsterman and found it as good as ever -- a burning, bitter, but lifelike picture of the Ulster of 1914. The most interesting thing is to find that the dominance, the ceaseless cross-examination, the unawareness that J [C. S. Lewis] and I were individuals which we thought was Lewisianism was in fact Ulsterism. True, we were never treated so badly as the Alexander family but in what follows there is enough our own adolescent grievances to give more than a hint of Leeborough [life at Little Lea] conditions. ... [And Warren quotes from a part of the novel I haven't reached yet, including the following -- this is Moore now:]

--You know the relative position of father and son in Ulster....The son is in a worse position than the errand boy. You know the way we have to give an account of ourselves wherever we may go. If I go as far as Belfast for a day, I'm cross-examined as to how I spent every hour. ......The true humour of the Ulsterman ...consists in the probing of an unhealed wound -- the touching of a raw place with the broad tip of a finger fresh from the pot of red pepper. [etc.]

Back to Warren:

---True, and to me only too familiar. ...he continued to jab at the sore place for the rest of our joint lives. But worst of all was the fact that from the end of the war until the last time I visited him I doubt if he ever let 48 consecutive hours pass without some offensive sneer at my [military] profession---- [etc.]

And Warren was saying that this sort of thing wasn't simply a vexing peculiarity of his father's personality, but was typical of the Ulster milieu.

Moore mentions the money-worship thing, and I remember that in a different book, about Lewis's Belfast heritage, it says that there was a commemorative plaque listing those who died in the Titanic disaster -- "in order of social rank, with the wealthiest given prominence." Warren said, "In the upper-middle class society of our Belfast childhood, politics and money were the chief, almost the only, subjects of grown-up conversation: and since no visitors came to our house who did not hold precisely the same political views as my father, what we heard was not discussion and the lively clash of minds [such as, e.g., prevailed at the Oxford Socratic Club with which Lewis was so involved in later life], but rather an endless and one-sided torrent of grumble and vituperation. Any ordinary parent would have sent us boys off to amuse ourselves, but not my father: we had to sit in silence and endure it," etc. Here I'm quoting from Ronald Bresland's The Backward Glance: C. S. Lewis and Ireland.
 
Starting American Gods by Neil Gaiman. It's odd because I've had this for a few years and was convinced I'd read it!

Began what I thought was a re-read and instead found a totally different story.

(So the one I read that starts with Thor working in a late night burger bar is another book altogether! :D)

American Gods is an amazing work, plods along quite strangely but it works for the story. You are in for a treat.

Currently reading Matter by Iain M. Banks. It can be heavy at times as it is a stand alone novel in a rich universe he has created and written other works in. The concepts and story are very interesting to think about. worth the read.
 
I just finished "The Jungle Book" by Rudyard Kipling, originally published in 1894. It's not really like the infamous movies about Mowgli. The book is a collection of fable-like short stories and poems involving animals in the jungle.
 
I just finished reading The Path of Daggers book eight of The Wheel of Time for the first time in my quest to read through the entire series. In reaching the denouement of this book one thing particularly stood out, it didn't end as climatically as previous books or from what I had come to expect of Robert Jordan. It seemed a bit anti-climactic, and was almost as if he was running dry on ideas. Nevertheless, I will power through, having already pulled down Winter's Heart from the shelf and will probably start it tomorrow.
 
About to start Clarion SF (1977), edited by Kate Wilhelm, a collection of stories by students attending that famous writing workshop, along with essays by the folks who taught there. The biggest name among the students, by far, is Kim Stanley Robinson. Some of the others went on to publish a moderate amount of fiction, others never published anything else (at least according to ISFDB.)

An odd thing:

This is the fourth volume in the series, the others of which were titled Clarion, Clarion II, and Clarion III. It baffles why this one isn't Clarion IV.
 
I just finished reading The Path of Daggers book eight of The Wheel of Time for the first time in my quest to read through the entire series. In reaching the denouement of this book one thing particularly stood out, it didn't end as climatically as previous books or from what I had come to expect of Robert Jordan. It seemed a bit anti-climactic, and was almost as if he was running dry on ideas. Nevertheless, I will power through, having already pulled down Winter's Heart from the shelf and will probably start it tomorrow.

I've been wanting to try this series but have been put off with the lack plot movement and pace in book 10. Maybe I should give it a go anyway and see how far I get.
 
The Woman Who Smashed Codes, by Jason Fagone. Nonfiction. The story of Elizebeth S. Friedman, a real-life heroine all but lost to history until they declassified the records of what she did during World War II.
 
Just finished Charles XII and The Great Northern War and come to the conclusion that Charles XII of Sweden was a complete nutter.

Now starting The History Of The Knights Templars, The Temple Church and The Temple By Charles G. Addison and I've already learned that the proper name for the Templars is the Knighthood Of The Temple Of Solomon:)
 
I’ve re-read Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons (still very funny) and have started A Rage In Harlem by Chester Himes, which is a noir story set in the black community of 1950’s Harlem. It’s very difficult to summarise the plot but so far it involves a scam to change bank notes into bigger bank notes, a trunk full of gold, a nun who is actually a cross-dressing con-man and a detective called Grave Digger Jones.
 
Don't forget Coffin Ed. If you get a chance to see the film version of A Rage in Harlem, I recall it being pretty good, too. And the novel Cotton Comes to Harlem is pretty good, too.

A cold has ruined my concentration on the novel I started so I'll try it again later. Just pulled out a Le Guin collection, A Fisherman of the Inland Sea and I'll take a shot at concentrating on shorter work.

Randy M.
 
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