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100 Books in 2011 review: Philaster

OK, this was a bit of cheat. I wanted to read something short to help meet the 100 books goal. So I found a little book called Philaster by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher. I’ve had this for about fifteen years (it was my grandparents’ originally) and never read it. The edition I have was published in 1898 and is really cute.

It is a play. It is about love, mistaken identity and inheritance. Philaster is the diposessed heir to the throne, in love with the daughter of the usurper who is supposed to marry someone else. The young boy they use as a go between is really the daughter of another lord who is in love with Philaster.

This was fairly light. It’s all about dialogue and there’s almost no worldbuilding. I don’t read a lot of plays and when you watch them you have all the visual elements to fill in a lot. So it feels like there’s not a lot to talk about. I did like it, the dialogue fairly cracked along despite the fact that it’s early 17th century English.

What I particularly noted was that the dialogue conveys a lot of passion. This is an emotional drama and it was useful and instructive to look at how that was achieved. The words put in the characters mouths, the choice of metaphor and the use of repetition all built up intense conversations. 

100 Books in 2011 review: Edge

I was looking forward to reading Edge by Thomas Blackthorne. I liked the blurb (which you can see in the picture). It sounded like it was going to be an ultra-violent Running Man fun type of silliness. Predators in book form. But that’s not what it was. Bad Angry Robot. That’s the second time I’ve read a book from this imprint that did not contain what was on the label.

Edge is actually a thriller set in a near-future dystopia. The son of a wealthy and influential tycoon runs away from home so he hires an ex-SAS soldier with mad software skills to find the boy. Doing so reveals illegal activity on the behalf of the tycoon’s biggest rival in cahoots with a corrupt government. It’s set in a near-future UK where everything is tracked and recorded electronically all the time and getting off the grid is tough. Knife duels are legal and as a result crime is down but loads of people die in duels. And sports/reality TV is dominated by a duelling league where combatants die every week for your viewing pleasure. But the book doesn’t focus on that part of it. That’s the backdrop for the real story.

It was a good thriller. It was easy reading and fast paced. The protagonist, Josh Cumberland, is a fairly typical modern thriller hero; big, buff, beautiful, with special forces training (which in this world includes cyber warfare) and an anger management problem. What lifts Edge up from the mass is the cast of strong female characters that support the protagonist. Cumberland’s team of ex-SAS buddies are not all male – and the ones that are, have three-dimensional personalities. His insider on the force is a policewoman who gives free self-defence classes in her spare time. The ‘love interest’ is a psychologist whose skills are pivotal to resolving the central mystery. And it’s nice that her role as psychologist way overshadows her role as love interest. I thought the characterisation was real and sensitive, and I think this might actually pass the Bechdel test.

The near-future setting was rich and cleverly put together. It was distinctive, memorable and thoroughly thought through, and yet at no time did the setting overshadow the story. I was disappointed that the knife duelling reality show didn’t have more airtime, but that’s only because that’s what I thought the book would be about. But Edge is excellent, and it was a better story than that. I hope Blackthorne writes more stories set in this world.

Writing-wise, it was clean and competent. Blackthorne has a very understated style. The writing focusses on plot with description and characterisation subtly woven in-between dialogue and action. Ignore the blurb and give it a go.   

100 Books in 2011 review: Alone in Berlin

Book club is off with a bang this year. January’s choice was Alone in Berlin by Hans Fallada (trans: Micheal Hofmann) and I loved it from the from start to finish.

Otto, an ordinary German living in a shabby apartment block, tries to stay out of trouble under Nazi rule. But when he discovers his only son has been killed fighting at the front he’s shocked into an extraordinary act of resistance, and starts to drop anonymous postcards attacking Hitler across the city. If caught, he will be executed.

Soon this silent campaign comes to the attention of ambitious Gestapo inspector Escherich, and a murderous game of cat-and-mouse begins. Whoever loses, pays with their life.

The opening chapter is one of the most powerful I’ve ever read. I read on the train and I was bawling my eyes out. Michael Hofmann’s translation is perfectly pitched and Alone in Berlin is an easy, fast read. Which may be surprising given the subject matter.

Fallada’s characterisation is exquisite. All of the characters are individuals and they come alive on the page. There are no stereotypes or stock characters here. And each character, regardless of how nice they are, is treated with empathy. Through these people Fallada shows how easy it is for civilization to crumble. The state can encourage the basest behaviour through making difference illegitimate, dissension dangerous and rewarding obedience. Systematic terror makes it hard to be a good person and easy to take advantage of the less fortunate. And it happens slowly, insidiously, until before you know it the world you thought you lived in is gone.

I love moral ambiguity and Alone in Berlin is replete with it. The Quangels made daily acts of resistance that achieved nothing except giving them back their self-worth. And you might say that knowing in your heart that you didn’t completely give in is important, yet Anna and Otto’s actions eventually damage the lives of several of the people around them. Their resistance had a tangible cost and an intangible outcome. Was it really the right thing to do? Should they have done something more? And this isn’t the only time the question of right and wrong is raised with complex, unclear examples. It’s not easy and all the pain of living with your choices is laid bare in this novel.

Alone in Berlin is an excellent example of an author that shows and rarely tells. We know who these people are because of what they say and do, not because the author tells us who they are. And this is a book originally written in 1947 so the omniscient POV is used and on occasions Fallada gives himself permission to use the authorial voice. Another member of the book club (who read the book in German) says that Fallada uses the Dickensian tradition of giving characters names that describe them.

If you like fiction that strips away the vanity of civilization and shows us what we are, what we can be, with brutal, uncompromising truth, then you will love this. For me, this is one of the best books I’ve ever read.

100 Books in 2011 review: Grass

Book number 1 in the 100 books in 2011 challenge is Grass by Sherri Tepper. It’s number 48 on the SF Masterworks list. The blurb says:

Generations ago, humans fled to the cosmic anomaly known as Grass. But before humanity arrived, another species had already claimed Grass for its own. It too had developed a culture… Now a deadly plague is spreading across the stars, leaving no planet untouched, save for Grass. But the secret of the planet’s immunity hides a truth so shattering it could mean the end of life itself.

Grass follows Marjorie Yrarier and her family as they go as ambassadors to Grass with the secret mission of finding a cure for the plague. There are two societies on Grass; the aristocrats, an ossified relic of old European aristocracy that spends its time hunting; and the Commons which is a vibrant, trading nation. Then there are the Hippae, who act as mounts in the aristocrats’ hunts, but who are far more than semi-intelligent animals.

I loved this. The central mystery is well-handled and the reveal is done slowly over the last third of the book. Grass as a world is vividly realised and it’s inhabitants and their relationships are well-drawn. The ideas about social organization are subtly woven in and the plot is always at the foreground. I actually couldn’t put it down. It’s nice to read something with a middle aged woman as the protagonist – especially science fiction, especially an adventure mystery. Marjorie is a wife and a mother, and yet she is portrayed as an individual, as active and as as driving the story. Marjorie is purposeful woman, driven to solve the mystery at the heart of the disturbing planet she finds herself on and, although she has love interests (three if you count her husband) they are secondary to the main plot. It’s worth mentioning because it strikes me that female protagonists, in this type of story, are pretty rare. Tepper avoids the traps of either making her female protag solely defined by her family and romantic relationships or making her a man in a lady costume. It’s so refreshing.

I only have two minor niggles, and seriously, they are tiny. First. the planet Grass is sharply drawn and the word picture is rich and vivid. The group of colonies that it is part of is quite fuzzy; I don’t even know whether to call it a galaxy, system or universe. Perhaps it doesn’t matter as most of the action is on Grass but it does feel slightly incomplete. The other niggle is the omniscient third person POV. Tepper handles it well so it doesn’t feel like head-hopping, but I did find it a little old-fashioned and in one or two places it is confusing.

So, Grass was excellent, overall. It was complex, deep and thought-provoking. It was beautifully written. It made me want to read everything else she’s written. Highly recommended.

More books on writing

This week I’ve been reading lots and may actually have had a breakthrough on the work-in-progress.

Self-editing for Fiction Writers, Rennie Browne and Dave King. This was a really useful book and the sections on inner monologue, sophistication and voice were illuminating. I think in an effort to avoid expository lumps and explaining dialogue or narrative I’ve also stripped out all the inner monologue. Suddenly breaking the 50,000 word barrier doesn’t seem like such an impossible task.

On Writing, Stephen King. This is part biography and part a discussion on writing. There’s little practical advice (don’t believe the quotes on the back) but what is there is useful. What there is a lot of is inspiration. It’s like a letter of faith to all aspiring writers and should be referred to whenever you’re feeling insecure.

The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers, Christopher Vogler. I picked this up as it was recommended to me. While there’s a lot of good stuff in here it does tend to the formulaic. There is lip service to stories other than the ones where the protagonist is a farm boy who becomes a king (metaphorically speaking) and the good guys always win, but that is really the focus of the book. If you like structure and formula, then it’s a winner. Not for me though.

Crossed Genres, Issue 4

Issue 4 of Crossed Genres mixes scifi/fantasy with crime. I was looking forward to this as I’ve been known to dabble in the fantasy thriller.

The first story is amazing. The Near-Sighted Sentinel by Adam King is the tale of a superhero dealing with ageing and failure. The Sentinel has to face loss of status and recognition and then finally to face up to not having made a difference. It is incredibly well written and structured. I was totally absorbed and might even read it again.

Time Out by David Siegel Bernstein deals with a complex future society and packs in a lot of worldbuilding. I think the story, one of the disillusionment of the main character, suffers a little for it. Most of the dialogue is exposition and little time is given over to characterisation. I like the idea and the worldbuilding is fascinating. Given the space of a novel, with time to explore the technology and economics and develop convincing characters, this could be really good.

I wasn’t as keen on the third story, Murder at the Tipsy Minotaur by Marie Robertson. The magical fantasy community created feels more like a checklist than sense of place and the characters come across as quite flat. The reveal at the end is done Poirot-style and that’s handled quite well. I liked the title.

Dead Men Don’t Drive by Timothy Friend is a zombie story. I’m not a fan of zombies, especially the shuffling, groaning variety, but this was quite good. The narrator is a not-so innocent bystander to a bigger crime – the details of which are left in shadows. I like that the author resisted the temptation to explain what was going on. It’s worth a read.

It takes a while for Dead Hands by Jason Rolfe to get going. The plot is quite tense with the main character in a lot of danger for most of the story, but somehow the emotional tension doesn’t come across. I never get the sense that she’s really scared. I liked the ending though. It had a nice twist and maintained the pace of the story.

The last story, The Eyes that Catch by Bruce Bretthauer, wasn’t as enjoyable as some of the others. The writing side of things is mostly good, except for a tendency to infodump. It was more the characterisation and stereotypical gender representation that put me off. The characters weren’t very well differentiated or particularly developed. The narrator felt more like a man with female parts than a female character.

So, this issue has been a bit up and down, but there’s a couple of real gems.

Hub, Issue 89

Hub again. I’m a little behind, but only by a week now.

Issue 89 provides Storm CHASER by Craig Pirrall. I liked this. Love the idea of a storm in a bottle and I’d have coughed up the forty bucks. The characters are very vivid for such a short piece. Again, I was disappointed that it ended so quickly.

Hub, Issue 88

It’s the Tuesday post! Today, I’m going to review Hub. A nice short story to read and ponder while I eat my sandwich.

The story in Issue 88 is Red Rover, Red Rover by Janet Loftis. This is fantastic. Children, horror and excellent writing. It is really quite creepy and that sandwich is not settling well. My only complaint was that it ended. I’d love to read what happened next.

Electric Spec, Volume 4, Issue 1

I haven’t reviewed Electric Spec before. I first heard of them via the first page contest they were holding on their blog. The editors’ comments on the work submitted to them were very thoughtful and interesting. They publish quarterly and are a paying market.

The first issue of this year came out on February 28. It contains six stories, the first of which is A Crowd of Possibilities by Eric Del Carlo. It starts slowly but it’s worth persevering with. At the beginning I found the staccato style of writing irritating. This was the point I think, as the author gradually builds a sense of dislocation. At the end it all makes sense and works up into a good story.

The Boogie-Woogie, Time-Traveling, Cyborg Blues by Barton Paul Levenson is really good. The tension of the story is set up very quickly and maintained all the way through. Backstory is nicely handled through dialogue, raising some interesting questions about the possible future. I liked this.

RepFix by K.P. Graham is also very good. It’s really well written and presents a plausible world without stopping to explain the details. It shows confidence. What I didn’t like about this is that it was a little coy with the details. We are told characters swear and use bad language, we are told that the main character is a depraved criminal. I find it irritating to have these things hidden behind a veil. If they are important enough to mention at all, then they are important enough to show.

Story number four is Kitsune-tsuki by Justin A. Williams. I love the way this starts by dropping you right into the action. The later action scene is also good; it’s exciting, well paced and dramatic. The bits inbetween are a bit slow and saggy. I struggled to keep reading. The ending was a bit cliched for my taste as well.

The next story, Hair and Hearts by Alison J. Littlewood, was wonderful. As it went along it really drew me in. It made me laugh although it’s not humourous story. If I’m being pedantic, I might say it suffers from an over-use of commas. That seems to have been a theme in this collection of stories. The effect is to make the narrative feel breathless and jumpy. Sometimes this is appropriate and sometimes it works against a story.

The last tale in this issue, The Girl Door by Jennifer Linnaea, doesn’t suffer from an over-use of commas. This is the best of the issue. The writing is excellent and the fantasy is multi-layered and symbolic. Linnaea is saying an awful lot beyond the simple story of a father protecting his child.

Being Human

I just watched the first episode of Being Human. Wow. It’s amazing. The writing and acting is really very good. After the appalling sub-Buffy mess of Demons and the fun-but-a-bit-rubbish Primeval, this was wonderful. Such a joy to watch something this good.

The comedy was funny – I laughed out loud – and the drama was tense. I can’t wait for episode 2.