A Crack in the Edge of the World : America and the Great California Earthquake of 1906

A Crack in the Edge of the World : America and the Great California Earthquake of 1906 Simon Winchester Date: 04 October, 2005   —   $18.45   —   Book product page Rating:

Nonfiction, History

Winchester is an interesting read, but not usually about the thing that you think you're going to be reading about. This book is theoretically about the San Francisco earthquake of 1906, but like Krakatoa, it takes over two hundred pages for Winchester to get to the purported subject of the book.

So he talks about geology, and the great Missouri quakes of the nineteenth century, and Hayward, and the geology meeting that sparked the thinking about plate tectonics, and a Southern California town whose prime claim to fame is its high quality seismographs, and just about everything but the quake. But that's okay.

Just so long as you aren't expecting a blow-by-blow account.

Water Witch

Water Witch Connie Willis and Cynthia Felice Date: 1982   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Science Fiction

Remember the days when a science fiction or fantasy author had to restrict the book size to under three hundred pages if he or she wanted to get published?

Notice how now, they can't get published if the book is fewer than four hundred pages, it seems. The length of the "standard" science fiction book has gotten to the point where not only is it a daunting prospect, but older, smaller books fall out of print and are never seen again. Water Witch is one of those that would do well to be republished— perhaps in an omnibus with Light Raid, the other Connie Willis/Cynthia Felice collaboration.

They're both somewhat related to water, the finding or directing of it; they're both primarily love stories masquerading as action, and they're both a lot of fun without being especially heavy fare.

Alas, both are out of print, and it took me years to track down Water Witch. So call for an omnibus— and while you're at it, get me some omnibi of Mavin Manyshaped!

The Proof House

The Proof House K.J. Parker Date: May, 2003   —   $8.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Fantasy

Okay, Evil Rob is right. The Loredans are completely and utterly psycho. What's worse is that they are in such a straightforward manner: each one has a motivation and follows it. Niessa wants money and status. Gorgas wants to be there for his family, specifically Bardas, the one who wants nothing to do with him. (There's a couple of hints here and there that they were companions when they were young, and that Gorgas can't let that go.)

Bardas— well, in his case, he doesn't *have* a motivation, which means he's this huge undirected force. And yes, I do mean huge, because for some reason everything seems to revolve around him. Even though he doesn't notice it.

There's this weird metaphysical thing going on in this trilogy that's never adequately explained, mainly because none of the characters understand it, even the ones who think they do. All we really figure out by the end is that we were in some sort of loop, and because of the efforts of many of those involved— or perhaps in SPITE of their efforts, we're now out of the loop, thank you very much and bow to the representatives of the Empire as you leave.

Oh, yes, the Empire. It's some sort of crazy cross between Rome and China, and it's taking over everything in sight, somewhat with the assistance of Bardas. And Gorgas, of course, who is mainly trying to be nice to Bardas in a specifically psycho way.

Actually, I do think I know what Bardas' motivation is— to not have anything to do with Gorgas ever again. And maybe settle down to a nice boring life.

Which reminds me... if I ever get the chance to meet K.J. Parker, I need to ask if Parker thinks that Bardas should go to Hell. Because, really, that might just be where Bardas is going at the end. Whether he deserves it or not is another question...

The Belly of the Bow

The Belly of the Bow K.J. Parker Date: May, 2003   —   $8.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Fantasy

So Evil Rob thinks the entire Loredan family is more or less sociopathic, in the sense that they have a complete inability to understand how their actions affect others. He's got a point. Bardas worked hard to save a city, became both praised and reviled by the populace, and never quite seemed to understand why he merited either. To him, one thing followed logically from the next, and the feelings of people involved is incidental at best.

His brother Gorgas— now there's a cheerful happy fellow, who incidentally is the outcast (rather justifiably) after a spot of panicked fratricide in his youth— and he's the one who cares for his family! Niessa only cares about money. The two brothers left behind at the family farm are the sort of dumb ne'er-do-wells who barely understand that they might themselves have feelings.

And it's this weird dysfunctional relationship all around. Gorgas does truly care for Bardas, even though he once tried to kill him, and all but smothers the horrified Bardas, who wants nothing to do with the brother he regards as a monster. Bardas himself is seen as a bit of a monster, something he doesn't realize quite until his two clodpole brothers reject him entirely. Niessa... well. Money. You know.

And we haven't even touched on the issue of Niessa's child, who wants to kill Bardas, and manages to pull off quite a nasty trick at the end.

The weird part is that you can actually imagine having a conversation with Gorgas. He seems like he'd be quite a nice guy to talk to. Dangerous to hang around, though.

There's a bit of nastiness quite like Greek myth near the end, just as a warning. It certainly snuck up on me, at which point I was saying... "No... way..."

Colours in the Steel

Colours in the Steel: The Fencer Trilogy, Volume 1 K.J. Parker Date: May, 2003   —   $8.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Ficiton, Fantasy

K.J. Parker is the pseudonym of an author who writes a slightly different type of fantasy under the original name. My guilty secret (not so secret now, I guess) is that I like the Parker style of writing better, mainly because with the other style there's a bit of a culture difference, and I always feel as though I'm missing something.

Anyway. The Colours of the Steel introduces us to Bardas Loredan, a legal fencer (one who settles court disputes in the manner of killing or disabling his opponent. However, there's a shadow of doom over the Triple City, Perimadeia, in the form of a personable young plainsman, who has come to the city to learn the techniques to bring it down.

At this point I should note a character trait that drives me nuts. That's the inability to let something go, to be driven, to feel as though you are being forced to do something you really don't want to do. Nineteenth century literature is full of that mindset, particularly Edith Wharton (Ethan Frome! Ethan fricking Frome!), and it's something I can't get a good hold on, since I'm a product of my times, and feel as though I have limitless opportunity.

So Temrai, learning about all the cool things that Perimadeia can do, becomes reluctant— but is resolved to destroy the city anyway. But it works, and somehow Bardas ends up in charge of the defenses. It's fairly realistic at this point, with Bardas having to endure a horrible seige on the one hand, and the cityfolk claiming he's too brutal on the other.

This book is notable for the number of broken swords in it. Seriously, there's quite a point made about how beating swords against each other over time makes them break. It's the first time I've seen that idea really brought into fantasy aside from the standard "hero's sword breaks, villain laughs and then hero wins at the last minute" gag.

At any rate, Bardas is not the ideal of a fencer. one gets the impression of him as more of a blacksmith, perhaps, or a lumberjack, someone who just keeps plugging away until the job is done, not somebody with much in the way of finesse. (In fact, he's decent but not stellar as a legal fencer.) Definitely not the intuitive type. The weird part is how he is set up as the sympathetic character without being in the least bit sympathetic. He doesn't want sympathy, though it's hard to figure out what he does want.

But yes— interesting read. It doesn't delve very deep into motivations, and is plot driven rather than character driven, but it's nearly impossible to guess what's going to happen next. Ingenuity is rare in the written world, and is to be treasured.

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress

The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress Robert Heinlein Date: 1965   —   $9.72   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Science Fiction

Look what a difference a decade can make. Barely a dozen years after the publication of The Rolling Stones, a serviceable if not particularly memorable space yarn, Heinlein goes back in time to tell a compelling tale in what is usually considered his best written book. It's the tale of the Lunar Revolution, fueled partially by the anger of convicts and ex-convicts who are still treated as slaves, but primarily by a small group of conspirators with a very big secret— a sentient computer who is very, very lonely. That computer, Mycroft (Mike for short) has revealed to that inner cell a horrible calculation: if things do not change drastically, with the Moon gaining independence, the food will run out in less than a decade— and the citizens of Earth will let the Moon starve to death.

So with the computer calculating the odds and planning the strategy, the three foment a revolution... with the hope that all hell will break loose before it's too late. Because with human bodies adapted to the Moon's lower gravity, not a one of them could survive moving back to Earth.

It's a fascinating tale, told from the point of view of Manuel, who writes in a choppy diction that strips away all surplus words. (When I first read it, it was difficult to follow. After coming across chat speak and 733t-speak, it's not so bad, though I was thoroughly disappointed in Heinlein when he introduced Manuel into another book and had him speak the way he writes. Especially as all of his companions spoke like normal people.) Manny is the reluctant one, and the one who has the most to lose. He writes from the perspective of someone trying to set the record straight, or someone trying to not be a hero. (Good luck with that!)

As a cautionary tale, it's quite intense, because it presents arguments against founding a colony without a plan for eventually making that colony independent. In Heinlein's universe, they never seem to learn, since similar things apparently happen on Mars and Venus. Oh, well.

Incidentally, this book is the source of a phrase that floats around in minor circles. TANSTAAFL stands for "There ain't no such thing as a free lunch." On the Moon, where the very air you breathe has to be created or recycled or otherwise paid for, the natives know that to their very bones. It's a lesson worth learning.

The Rolling Stones

The Rolling Stones Robert Heinlein Date: 1952   —   $6.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Science Fiction, Juvenile

This is one of the standard Heinlein juveniles, a series of books that Heinlein had contracted with a publisher for. These were published over a period of ten to fifteen years, and Heinlein reportedly hated the editor he had to deal with— and the feeling was mutual. He finally ended up submitting a book that the editor refused to publish, breaking the contract, and Heinlein went on to win a Hugo award for that novel.

I think it was Starship Troopers. And, BTW, if you are judging the book by the movie, normally a bad practice, know that the director refused to read the book lest he "pollute his artistic vision." In other words, if they'd stuck with their original idea and come out with a movie called "Bug Wars" with no reference to the award-winning musing on the nature of service to a country, well... it would have just been a truly awful movie, instead of a truly aawful movie confused with a fairly decent book.

Unless it was Citizen of the Galaxy, a musing on the degradation of slavery. I can see where that would get a pre-Civil Rights era editor's hackles up.

But anyway. The deal with the "juveniles," then, should be taken to mean that there is little in them that can offend a fifties-era child, or more importantly, that child's parents. Part of the friction between Heinlein and his editor was due to Heinlein's insistance on including hints of things not suitable for young children, like the concept of the future as imperfect. (Oh horror!) But this is extremely tame by modern standards, and the characters— at least the young ones— are likely to seem hopelessly naive.

This book is notable for two things: once again, Heinlein has redheaded twins, which seems to be a bit of an obsession with him, and he introduces a creature called a "Martian flat cat."

You probably will understand at once when I tell you this is the prototype for a Tribble.

Alone

Alone Lisa Gardner Date: 27 December, 2005   —   $7.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery/Thriller

A police sniper discharges his gun, taking out a target just moments before that target shoots the mother of a little boy. And the sniper is put on leave while the case is investigated. So far, this is standard procedure.

But then it turns out that the guy who was shot is the son of a powerful judge, who threatens to ruin the cop, and who apparently has the means to do so. And the mother seems to have a few darks secrets of her own. And it is just possible that she's skillful enough into having created the situation, using the police to take out a husband who had become too much of a threat... either to her son, or possibly to her. Is she the one making the little boy sick?

Well, really, what can you say? It's a thriller novel, everyone's got a sordid past, nobody's quite who they seem to be, and (gasp) people lie about the horrible things that happened to them in childhood. It's also a fairly violent novel but not graphically so— no lingering descriptions of blood or death, just enough to paint a fairly vivd but incomplete picture, then snap to reactions from the ones who find the scene, the family, the killer... standard Gardner procedure.

The Warlock in Spite of Himself

The Warlock in Spite of Himself Christopher Stasheff Date: 1969   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Science Fiction

This is Christopher Stasheff's first novel, and it is a lot of fun, as first novels often are.

Rodney d'Armand is the young scion of an old aristocratic family and a thoroughgoing democrat, a scout in search of new planets to convert to the interplanetary democracy. His landing on a new planet that seemingly has all the attributes of magic is a great puzzlement to his scientifically-trained mind, but it is more of a shock to his robotic servant, Fess... who poses as a horse in backwards societies. What's worse, to Rod's mind, is how the foundations of a constitutional monarchy, the prelude to democracy, are being carefully undermined. One group seemingly wants totalitarianism, the other, anarchy, and both use language and concepts that should be unthought of in a seemingly medieval group.

Worse than that is how an unlisted planet should have drawn the attention of powerful enemies. And even worse is how quickly they seem to catch on to who Rod is, or at least who he represents. (Beware; there are some truly awful puns laying within these groups' names.)

But worst of all is how Rod is taken for a warlock. Because even the Little People seem convinced of that.

And if you're seen as magic by obviously magical creatures on a magical world— with the implication that you'll be able to help said creatures out of a jam— you are in deep, dark trouble.

I used to like this book more than I do now. This is probably because it suffers in comparison to later novels by many authors, including some by authors who may not have been alive at the time Stasheff wrote it. Writing style changes over time, and Stasheff's early work is closer in style to Fletcher Pratt and L. Sprague deCamp than it is to, say, Melanie Rawn or George R.R. Martin. But it is a lot of fun, and you can either read the later series or leave it alone as you please.

Escape Velocity

Escape Velocity Christopher Stasheff Date: October, 1983   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Science Fiction

Escape Velocity is a prequel to one of Stasheff's most popular series, The Warlock [in Spite of Himself] series. This is a series that is based on the idea of 'sufficiently advanced technology being indistinguishable from magic'— especially is the psychic types who are the "magic users" don't know anything about science, being the remnants of a colony who were basically the SCA and the Ren Faire geeks all rolled into one.

This is an attempt to explain how this world came to be, and it falls quite a bit short.

The lamentable fact is that Stasheff would be a joy and wonder to read in this book if he did not flit from idea to idea madly. His protagonists encounter four or five planetary societies in the course of a novel not quite 250 pages, and that's not nearly long enough to develop any one of them. You could easily set several novels on the first world introduced, a world where a masochistic psychiatrist (who finds it painful to listen to people, so he's really very good at his job) has managed to convince the local natives that it's better to have the battles every day, done in a style much like that of laser tag, than to have a long and drawn out war with real weapons where people die and it's all depressing and stuff.

And Stasheff actually sells the idea pretty well, including the "savages" who are actually as saavy as history is increasingly proving certain tribes of our own world. (Those "poor Manhattan Indians", for example, didn't trade their island so much as offer it on lease with guaranteed lodging and parties thrown into the deal.) And then he drops it and rushes madly on to the next world, and the next, until the theoretical climactic moment of the novel comes as an afterthought, with a few too obvious bits thrown in for the readers of the series.

Overall, it rates a "meh."

The Sirens Sang of Murder

The Sirens Sang of Murder Sarah Caudwell Date: 09 September, 1990   —   $5.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery

While Americans hate taxes, very rarely do we think of them as a framework for murder. At the time of this novel's writing, however, the top tax rate in England was over 90%— I'm not kidding*—which leads to all manner of crazy tax-dodging schemes. In this case, the dodge is a trust, and the beneficiaries thereof don't have their names attached, because of the laws surrounding it.

Problem is that the names of the beneficiaries have been lost... and the people who might stand to benefit could be anybody. Anybody including a murderer who has started picking off the lawyers involved in the trust, which includes one of Professor Tamar's young colleagues.

This is a marvelously silly addition to the Tamar mysteries, and a great joy to read.

*The top rate in the US in the early 1950s was likewise 90%. When the Sixteenth Amendment was passed, there was a movement to put a cap of a maximum 1% on the tax rate, which was scuttled because they thought that if they did that, that somebody would actually raise taxes that high. Think carefully when crafting your laws, folks.

The Shortest Way to Hades

The Shortest Way to Hades Sarah Caudwell Date: 05 November, 1995   —   $6.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery

Professor Hilary Tamar is once again called upon to help the covey of young lawyers solve a mystery... in this case, that of a murder that has been accepted as an accident. Not quite at stake is a literal fortune, because it was not the heiress who was killed, but her little-cared-for cousing. But Julia— remember Julia? She of the scatter-brained not-really-a-murderess history?— has great faith in Professor Tamar's deductive powers, and is unwilling to let a possible murder pass.

Especially if the heiress is the intended target.

The hijinks are much sillier in this novel, and usually told so matter-of-factly that the ludicrous nature of the situation could be easily lost if you're not paying attention, so read carefully.

Thus Was Adonis Murdered

Thus Was Adonis Murdered Sarah Caudwell Date: 01 June, 1994   —   $5.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery

There are times when I am reminded very strongly of the phrase that "England and America are two countries divided by a common language." Not that this book has any of those Britishism that Americans find so impenetrable, but that the customs, in some ways, are so incredibly different.

I am specifically referring to the covey of lawyers that is at the heart of the book. I'm not sure they're actually called lawyers over there, but I do know that they are not, very specifically, solicitors, which is what we think of when we think of lawyers who work in court for the prosecution or defense. I do know that they get into their robes and wigs— that's right, white wigs— before going to court.

That seems strange to me.

At any rate, we are introduced to this young group by Professor Hilary Tamar, an Oxford scholar of indeterminate gender who pretends to greater scholarship than is displayed. (As the book is written in the first person, the high-flown psuedo-modesty is quite amusing in face of the contrary evidence.) Professor Tamar is, however, the brains of the brainless (though intelligent) bunch, and when scatter-brained Julia is held for murder in Italy, Tamar must figure out what really happened, and from a distance.

Not that they'll give any credit to the long-suffering Scholar...

Quite amusing if you are used to pulling subtext out of your reading. If you have a tendency to take your fiction at face value, you'll miss a lot of the irony of the descriptions and characterizations.

The Other Daughter

The Other Daughter Lisa Gardner Date: 06 July, 1999   —   $7.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery/Thriller

This novel is not set with more than a token appearance by FBI agent Pierce Quincy. Instead, it focuses on Melanie Stokes, the adoptive daughter of a wealthy family who had lost their own daughter to a serial killer. Melanie has no memory of her life before she was found in a Boston hospital, dosed wth a sedative, but it appears that somebody wants to give her that memory back.

And possibly take something, or someone, away from her.

I saw the twist in this book coming a mile away. You may not, so I won't go into it. I liked the book in spite of knowing the big surprise. It's a Gardner book, so your decision to read should be based on her other work.

The Killing Hour

The Killing Hour Lisa Gardner Date: 15 July, 2003   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery/Thriller

Serial killers are prime fodder for mystery authors, though rare in real life. In this case, the killer is one who kidnaps girls in pairs... but leaves clues as to where one girl is. When that girl is found— invariably killed by her circumstances— her body contains clues to the other girl's whereabouts.

So far, only one girl has been saved, one who was smart enough to survive an extreme environment.

But now the killer has struck again, and left a body on the very grounds of the FBI training location, where agent-in-training Kimberly Quincy finds it, and becomes involved in a case that could kill her career before it even starts. Because the girl looks far, far too much like her murdered sister. And Kimberly is too deeply involved to back out.

As with Gardner's other mysteries, a thread of romance works its way in to the highly implausible circumstances. Or, I should say, the crimes are implausible; romance has a habit of happening at the most bizarre times.

The Next Accident

The Next Accident Lisa Gardner Date: 30 April, 2002   —   $7.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery/Thriller

After the events of The Third Victim, Pierce Quincy and Rainie Connor try to get on with life. Unfortunately, FBI Agent Quincy's daughter did not die as the result of an accident... and it turns out to be a careful plan to destroy everything Quincy loves. Including his other daughter, and, eventually, Rainie.

It's a long and twisted tale, and interestingly convoluted. Suspension of disbelief is highly recommended for this story, but what the heck, it's a thriller.

Hold the Enlightenment

Hold the Enlightenment Tim Cahill Date: 2002   —   $11.20   —   Book product page Rating:

Nonfiction, Travel, Shorts

In the introduction, Tim Cahill makes mention of reader reviews such as this one, including ones that say he's "not as funny as Dave Barry." That's right. He's not.

I just can't see why people think he ought to be.

Dave Barry is a humorist, and humor is his goal. I actually prefer, in many ways, when he writes semi-seriously, as he does, in fact, have writing chops when he chooses to use them. (As humor is all about timing, perhaps that's not so strange.) Tim Cahill is a travel writer, for whom humor is a portion of his tale, not the main goal.

And his work is full of interesting tidbits. The Missouri River is the primary source of the Mississippi, but naming conventions alone have kept them from being listed as one river. If they were listed as one river, it would be the longest in the world. Think about that.

Or think of the word "fubsy," a biological term meaning an animal that has traits, such as big heads and eyes, small limbs, and overall cuteness, that are definitive of human children. Basically, "fubsy" means traits of a baby animal that you look at and go "awwww." Or as in "fubsy hors d'oeuvres"— a fur seal about to be eaten by an orca.

At any rate, I enjoy Cahill's work and recommend it highly.

Faithless

Faithless Karin Slaughter Date: 30 August, 2005   —   $16.50   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery

Slaughter's local coroner and police chief stumble across a woman who was buried alive. Trouble is, she didn't die from the burying— she was poisoned. And this crime has all the earmarks of one that has been done before... with the intention that the victim lives. So Sara and Jeffrey have to determine just who of the local religious farm community is killing its members.

I tend to not recommend Slaughter. It's either a highly appropriate name or pseudonym, as her books are exceedingly violent, her characters come from badly broken or highly traumatic backgrounds, and they behave in self-destructive patterns.

There's no buts here. I read things like this, but then I read true crime renditions of serial killers. So understand that what I like is not always to most people's tastes.

One thing that I've noticed in Slaughter's work is a contempt for religion and conservatives. It doesn't come through very often— the religious mocking comes through the character voices, which given their histories is completely understandable. But when speaking of rural Georgia, the authorial voice makes comments such as "ruined by Reganomics" given as "of course" statements. Coupled with the mild contempt the characters hold religious folk in, we're given a picture of those benighted red-staters, who are steeped in folly...

Unlike the traumatized, unfaithful, seriously messed up and unhappy protagonists of the book. Uh-huh.

What I find really interesting is that Slaughter doesn't even realize that she's making that comparison. I can accept a serious argument in favor of one political viewpoint over another. It just bothers me when somebody is so unconcious that they are making an argument that they think it's just the way the world works. Serious writing flaw. Oh well.

Sisters of the Raven

Sisters of the Raven (Aspect Fantasy) Barbara Hambly Date: 01 August, 2005   —   $6.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Fantasy

I think I mentioned before about how many of Barbara Hambly's fantasy worlds have a healthy does of misogyny. This one is definitely near the top of the list. Women of the Yellow City are pretty much at the level of property, and don't even have names of their own— though they are often called after flowers, or a particular task, they can have their name changed when their circumstances do.

Which makes it all the more tense when, in the progress of a years-long drought, it becomes apparent that not only is the mages' magic failing, but that women, of all creatures, are developing it.

Raesheldis, a woman who not only fought to get in to the mages' college but chose a name like a boy, has to endure intense hazing and palpable hatred. The Emperor's concubine, who enjoys quite a bit of status due to the Emperor's attitude of equality toward women, has noticed that other "women who use magic" are disappearing.

And while the city starves for water and religious figures incite mobs against the Emperor's proposed aqueduct, more and more people are coming to blame the women... and at least one of them has discovered some demonic magic to deal with them.

This is obviously the start of a series, which is frustrating since the story wants more and it wants more now. Ah well.

Flash

Flash L.E. Modesitt Date: 28 June, 2005   —   $7.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Science Fiction

I was telling my mother about how good Modesitt's science fiction is, using comments such as "they're all about people trapped by difficult ethical choices." She remarked that they sounded horrible.

Well, hmm. I guess maybe that's not the best way to recommend a book to someone, is it.

I know that most people aren't that concious of ethical choices. But in every well-plotted book, there are obstacles to overcome before the protagonist can get to the end. Modesitt merely internalizes some of those obstacles, and I have to emphasize that he does it well.

In his science fiction, as with his fantasy, his hero figure has to deal with the thought of becoming a monster in response to monstrosity. A simple utilitarian answer— give one life to save ten— doesn't work with most people, and it doesn't work with his protagonists either. So when, for example, you can slow the destruction of society by some unsavory actions... you think... the dilemma becomes a little more interesting, a little more acute. And perhaps there is family in danger, but will you really help them by creating destruction? Or will you only put them in greater danger?

And once again, spoilers intervene. I'd love to go into detail, but that would ruin the action-intense plot. (Action and ethics. Two great tastes...) If you like Modesitt sci-fi, this is another good one.

Flash is set sometime after Archform: Beauty and long before Gravity Dreams. As Modesitt seems intent upon hitting most of the high points in his science fiction universe, clear up to the point where some "angels" get bumped into another universe and lead to the founding of Recluce (nice little gambit there, could have been cliched but very smooth indeed), I look forward to some more of the intervening books between the ad-saturated world of Flash and the nano-infested Gravity Dreams.

Aunt Dimity's Death

Aunt Dimity's Death (Aunt Dimity Mystery) Nancy Atherton Date: 01 November, 1993   —   $7.99   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Mystery (sort of)

This is a surprisingly happy little novel, predicated as it is on the fact of somebody's death. That person is Aunt Dimity, a character that Lori Shepheard always thought her mother created. It turns out that Dimity was completely real and the originator of the tales her mother told her at bedtime. And when the executors of Dimity's estate track her down, it is to tell her that she gets an all-expenses-paid (and then some!) vacation to Dimity's cottage in England, if she will agreed to write the foreword for the book of Aunt Dimity stories that is dues to be published.

Down-on-her-luck (and bitter) Lori accepts, and the rest of the book is about the trip... but more importantly, about how Lori learns to lose her bitterness and realize her extreme good fortune. I can't write more about the plot without doing serious spoilers, so I will just say that the ending is no surprise since the idiots who published the book gave away everything in the back cover blurb. I hate that.

Circus World

Circus World Barry Longyear Date: 15 April, 1982   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Science Fiction

Well, that's interesting. Turns out this is the third in the series, not the second. Not that it matters much; the format of this series is such that you can pick it up at any spot.

This is the further adventures of the Circus In Space, the survivors of a spaceship crash on an inhospitable planet called Momus that nobody wants. Or, scratch that, nobody wanted.

Y'see, while Momus is, in and of itself, not that interesting a place, its location is of prime importance, lying as it does on the border between two space hegemonies. As a tactical advantage, it has some worth.

The problem lies with the more benevolent of the two. They would dearly love to step in and claim jurisdiction on Momus, thus preventing the other group from imposing military rule, but their laws prevent doing so unless asked. And Momus is a bit, shall we say, anarchic. They have exactly one law, which is the process for creating laws... and it requires that a quorum of sorts assembles at one location to vote on new laws. This is so much trouble, travel being what it is, that they've never bothered to make a second one.

And it's the job of Ambassador Allenby to not only bring them together to do so, but to get them to vote his way... which he can only do if he convinces the extremely unique culture that it won't be destroyed by the outsiders. Which is something he's not entirely sure of himself.

Wonderful train reading.

City of Baraboo

City of Baraboo Barry B. Longyear Date: September, 2000   —   $14.95   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Science Fiction

This book and its sequels are hailed for capturing not only the feel of the circus but its impotance to those who are a part of it. Baraboo, Wisconsin is the birthplace of the Ringling Brothers circus and home to the Circus Museum, and it is fitting that Longyear used it in his future tale of a dying circus— the last circus on Earth— who, desperate to escape the regulations that are strangling them on Earth, take the show to the stars. Within the first story, they not only convince their owners to let them try, they manage to get a ship of their own... not without a little finagling, since the builders want to convert and sell it to a warlike group.

Subsequent stories deal with their tours on various planets, including competition with the new circus set up by their old employers, particularly the chair, who felt that he was made a fool of. Such men are dangerous, and a series of quickly escalating conflicts will prove to be dangerous in the end for the City of Baraboo.

City of Baraboo was originally published as a series of short stories, but I leave it in the book category because they flow naturally into one another.

Brokedown Palace

Brokedown Palace Steven Brust Date: January, 1989   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Fantasy

The world of this book is somewhat tangential to the Dragearan Empire of the Vlad Taltos books. If one were to read the back of the book summary, one might get a misleading impression about the book's contents. This book is about change, and it is told in that half-mad Hungarian fairytale style where some things are symbolic and never quite explained, where taltos horses (sorceror horses) appear out of the air to be cryptic and where younger princes go on mysterious quests and such.

This book is more impersonal than his later books, and definitely more dependent upon archetypes. It also give the impression that we should be getting more of it than we do, seeing as it is linked to other books through half-hints and that little girl who hasn't been born yet. I am one of those people who finds it maddening to have such hints given when other books in the series may be out of print.

Because I want to know everything, naturally enough.

The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars

The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars Steven Brust   —   $10.36   —   Book product page Rating:

Fiction, Fantasy

This is the first book of the Fairy Tale series, solicited by Terri Windling. The concept was that each author would take an established fairytale and create a book about it. Some of these were more interesting than others.

Steven Brust either used a tale so obscure that no one has every heard of it, or created his own, I'm not sure which. This tale is told in parallel with his story of artists trying to create the next masterpiece, told from the viewpoint of one who feels both superior to the other artists in the studio and inferior at the same time. (That is not all that hard to do; one can feel that one's taste and eye is better than others while still lamenting the lesser skill or genius one possesses.)

There are certain parts which resonate for me: the contempt in which "mere illustrators" are held in the art world, as well as the contempt the protagonist has for art created with an eye to saleability, the longing to be great coupled with the fear of merely being good, and the desperation of thinking that your chance is slipping away.

But as is repeated throughout the book, tastes differ, and in many ways this book failed to jell for me. Perhaps it's the tenuous connection between the fairytale and its supposed ostentation in the real world— I just didn't feel that the parallels were there. There's also the highly artist-centered nature of the book, which makes me feel as though it's a bit of an in-joke, and stale at that.

In the end, though, Brust is still a decent storyteller, so it's worth your while to read a copy.