February 2020 Reading Thread

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I finished Iain Banks' The Crow Road. I've read all of Iain (M.) Banks' Science Fiction novels, many of which I thought were excellent but not his non-SF. This seems to be one of his most popular non-SF books, I've heard it suggested several times that it has one of the best first lines in literature ("It was the day my Grandmother exploded.").

I thought it was a good book, it does take quite a while for it to become clear where the plot is heading but even the early stages which feel more like a series of vignettes of things that happened to various members of the McHoan family is entertaining. Prentice is an entertaining narrator, it can be frustrating as he makes a sequence of incredibly poor decisions but he does at least develop as a character as the story moves along. I also liked the flashbacks to the previous generation, particularly those following Prentice's father in his younger days, I think some of the best writing in the book comes from Kenneth McHoan's storytelling to the children. While the book's main theme is death and how people cope with it, it didn't feel like a particularly gloomy book, there is plenty of humour in here (even if some of it is a bit morbid), and while the ending may be bittersweet it at least has some hopeful elements.

I also really liked the book's portrayal of its setting. Having grown up in the Scottish Highlands I've seen plenty of fiction supposedly set in Scotland which just didn't ring true, but this felt very authentic to me (not that I was expecting anything different from Banks). Although the town of Gallanach itself where much of the book takes place is fictional I recognise a lot of places and things from the rest of the book. It's also a good portrayal of its time as well, the 'present day' in the book is now 30 years ago and some parts feel familiar (the political landscape in some ways hasn't changed that much) while others feel quite different (such as a University student like Prentice finding computers exotic and not knowing what an e-mail is).

Now I've moved on to Ian McDonald's novella The Menace From Farside, a spin-off from his Luna series.
 
Terminus by Peter Clines

This is in the same universe as 14 and The Fold. It makes vague references to those two, but I can't really remember any details from them and they seem to be important. There's no plot summary or anything that would do them justice.

The start of the book is great bull all that seems to be thrown out the window in favor of another set of characters who I can't stand. There's stereotypes abound and some of the dialogue and the descriptions of women are atrocious. The pop culture references are going to be dated in 20 years. The ending is almost nonsensical.

I always know what I'm getting with Clines, but I think I've finally reached my limit of fluff from him at the moment. The next book from him will have to be something stellar for me to read it.
 
I've started something much more entertaining (so far) Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir.

Lesbian necromancers in space, apparently.

:)

Just finished, I liked it a lot. Despite it being the first of a trilogy it doesn't end with too much left dangling, and I shall certainly buy the next one when it's available.

Next up is another I've seen mentioned on Twitter, The Monster Of Elendhaven by Jennifer Giesbrecht.

I know nothing about this one, so I'll report back once read.
 
I'm reading The Catch, by Mick Herron. Another novella from Slough House.
That's an issue IMO.
There are now three 'John Bachelor' novellas which, although set in the same spy dept as Slough House, have very little connection with Jackson Lamb and his building full of misfits.
 
I have just started A Wealth of Fable (1977) by Harry Warner Jr., a sequel to All Our Yesterdays (1969). The first volume was a history of science fiction fandom in the 1940's, this one covers the same topic in the 1950's.

The book is physically unusual. The outside binding is the kind of hardcover you see on, say, magazines bound together for libraries. Inside you find mimeographed pages, obviously from typewritten originals. That may not mean much to most young folks, but it brings me memories of the way fanzines looked way back then.
 
That's an issue IMO.
There are now three 'John Bachelor' novellas which, although set in the same spy dept as Slough House, have very little connection with Jackson Lamb and his building full of misfits.

Actually I enjoyed the three novellas very much, and with the hint of humour they are much more superior to le Carre. By the way all three novellas are connected to each other in the storyline.
 
I'm having a go now at one by Nikos Kazantzakis that I think everybody has, at some time, (probably with half a dozen mates and a lot of alcohol) had a bash at the dance. Zorba the Greek.
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I've just read Penguin Classics translations of a couple of Icelandic sagas, the Confederates' and Viglund's. The former might appeal to those of you who like legal shenanigans and the latter was just a good one with suspense, characters to root for, and an element I won't specify. The former is in Comic Sagas and the latter in Sagas of Warrior-Poets. By "comic sagas" you shouldn't expect much humor, really, but there is some sly amusement in the one I mentioned.
 
I'm having a go now at one by Nikos Kazantzakis that I think everybody has, at some time, (probably with half a dozen mates and a lot of alcohol) had a bash at the dance. Zorba the Greek.
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When I was a teen, my dad (a huge fan of both the book and the movie) took me along to see Zorba the Musical, with Anthony Quinn himself. Well, at least I think it was him. Our seats were pretty far back.
 
The saga of Kormak in the Penguin Warrior-Poets volume. The story is told in the usual objective and economical saga style, except for the many brief verses, which emphasize the riddle-like "kennings," e.g. a head is a hat-perch, a well-dressed woman is a wealth-pole or a necklace-sleigh, a battle is a shield-storm etc. It's largely a story of youthful attraction, frustrated passion, eventual resentment and spite, and, not surprisingly, violence. In one amusing incident, the protagonist, Kormak, uses his tiller to take a poke at the ear of Thorvald, second husband of Steingerd, the only woman Kormak has ever loved; Steingerd doesn't appreciate the insult, and responds by taking the helm of her and her husband's ship, and ramming Kormak's boat broadside and capsizing it. There's some evil magic mixed into the story -- that's why Kormak didn't show up for his wedding with Steingerd when they were younger. Much later, Kormak has an opportunity to take Steingerd from her husband, but though she doesn't seem to love her husband, she would rather not "exchange one knife for another," and Kormak too would rather she stayed with Thorvald. If the reader was hoping for and counting on a romantic conclusion to this story, he or she will be frustrated too. Kormak becomes a rich and famous warrior, but at last he's frustrated in his wish to die a hero's death on the field of combat; he succumbs to his injuries (granted they were gained in a battle with a giant) in bed.
 
And I read a tale from medieval Iceland, "Helgi Thorisson," in the Penguin book Seven Viking Romances. Helgi is caught in the woods after dark and sees a group of ladies in red. At her invitation, he spends three nights with the most beautiful of them. Then she gives him treasure but demands that he keep the secret of where the wealth is from, and he does. Months pass and one night there's a great storm, and two riders abduct Helgi. A year later, two men appear at the king's court and offer him two splendid drinking-horns. They say their king wants friendship with King Olaf. King Olaf offers them drink, but first has the priest bless it, which offends them -- they darken the room abruptly, by magic I take it, and disappear. Another year passes and two men bring back Helgi. "We've brought a skeleton for your feast, my lord," they tell the king. They have returned Helgi, whose eyes have been gouged out by his lover. He dies a year later.

I thought of this bit:

I’m not sure how it should be played. No one ever told me. No one ever tells anybody. I only know we must have played it wrong. We broke some rule or other along the way, and never knew it at the time. --Cornell Woolrich

Of course, I haven't summarized the whole tale, but even when you read the entire account, there's a mysterious element.
 
I've been on a bit of a guilty binge. I've read Starship Sakira, Delphi City, and (so far) half of Delphi Station by Bob Blanton. They remind me a bit of the Ell Donsaii series by Laurence Dahners that I love so much. They follow the adventures of a father, daughter (13 years old) and the father's brother who discover a star ship hidden on the ocean floor. With the aid of the Ship's artificial intelligence they start out to change the world for the better. The story follows the thoughts and actions of the father and the daughter much more than anyone else. I love the book for it's largely positive vibe and intentions. It is interesting to see how closely the books are tied to "2018?" ecological concerns. There are a few quite violent spots and I find them to be jarring against the back drop of the plot. My biggest frustration is that outside of the occasional violent attempt against the group is that everything else works more smoothly and quickly than seems possible even given the fact they are beginning with known (alien) technology. There are five books so far. I intend to read them all.
 
Extollager: Tying Woolrich and his existentialist doom to the old sagas seems sort of brilliant, though if I recall rightly Neil Gaiman may have got there first in one of the threads of American Gods. Thing about Woolrich, he may have drank as much as any Norse god, but I doubt he was ever as happy doing it.

Parson: Post-Super Bowl I read that as Starship Shakira and the resulting image was disconcerting. Stage Scottish accent: "Och, Cap'n, this ship wasn't built for shimmy-drive! We gotta stop before she pops her rivets!"

Randy M.
(it's possible I needed more sleep last night)
 
I hope it was clear to everyone that I've been much impressed by these Icelandic narratives I've been reading. When I said yesterday that a reader wanting a romantic wrap-up for The Saga of Kormak would likely be frustrated, that was meant to push against that reader, not against the saga-author. I don't see the author, by the way, as "anti-romantic"; rather, the author was telling the story of this particular pair, caught up in the web of others' wishes and actions too. I actually found myself thinking of Tolstoy. In War and Peace, he gave us Natasha Rostova as this irresistible young girl abounding with life and potential for love. But our last glimpse of her is, as I recall, of a married woman who's showing her age (as must happen for all of us) and who fusses over her children too much, etc. It's not that Tolstoy is "anti-romantic," but he knows you can always ask, "And then...?" "And then?" That's not exactly what the author of Kormak is doing, but it's closer to Tolstoy than to an author who must always give us an ending in which romantic love is wholly validated on its own terms just because romantic love deserves and requires that.

And the Helgi Thorisson narrative joins the ranks of tales of dark Faërie, along with tales such as England's "Yallery Brown," Iceland's "Trunt, Trunt, and the Trolls in the Hills" (see Jacqueline Simpson's Icelandic Folktales and Legends), J. M. Barrie's play Mary Rose, Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market, Lafcadio Hearn's tale from Japan called "Mujina," Coleridge's Christabel, Keats's "La Belle Dame Sans Merci," etc.
 
Delphi Station by Bob Blanton took a surprising? turn. I said up thread that it had a very 2018 vibe, and in the second half of Delphi Station the American President (ahem) could be drawn from real life. It is almost scary how prescient it is to the actions of certain events of the last month. I checked the copyright and it is 2019. I just wish that the rest of the story reflected reality as well.

Got Delphi Nation queued up and ready to go. I'm anxious but a little scared to see if Blanton has more prescientence in store for his story.
 
Put Seveneves down, temporarily - I enjoyed False Value by Ben Aaronovitch so much, I've gone back to the first, eponymous, Rivers of London book and will now probably re-read the whole series. I thought about getting the novellas and graphic novels, but am a bit put off by the price - £6.99 for the novellas, when the full novels in the series are £3.99-£4.99, seems just a tad steep.
 
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