Einstein, Vikings, and the Stars

Title: Fantasy
Author: Poul Anderson
Published: 1981
Pages: 334

Reading Time: Fall/Winter 2010.

Plot Teaser:
"Leonardo, meet Albert Einstein." Thus begins a journey through Realms of Myth and Magic such as is given few of Mortal Birth. Learn the True History of the Aryan Race (You have nothing much to lose), Pierce the Heart of Publishing (and watch a mythic pirate pale before its pulsations)...Experience the True Nature of False Courage (Must we spell it out?)...Join Elves against Aliens in War to the Knife (and Knife to the Hilt)...form an Unholy Pact (with a Usually Reliable Demon)...visit Other Worlds (through sheer force of personality)...Discover the Meaning and the Joy of Fantasy in the Age of Science.

Through the magic of Poul Anderson (whose spells never miss) all this can be yours, Mortal. So come, enter the world of...Fantasy.

How I Got It:
This was another purchase made in the basement of the Westdale Bookworm in Hamilton, ON, likely at some point in 2009 or maybe even 2008. With my interest in fantasy and short stories growing, I had heard Anderson's name before and wanted to sample some of his work.

The Review:
In a very kind and illuminating afterword, Sandra Miesel writes about Poul Anderson: "He makes what is magical real and what is real magical. Of such power is poetry born." In one of Fantasy's essays, Anderson himself goes on about the importance of having fantasy worlds "make sense." He is talking about the need to keep stories grounded in reality, and to make them feel believable, and stick to their internal logic, as well as the basic logic of battle, the limits of the human body, and other similar areas that many fantasy tales often ignore. By making his people feel like flesh and blood beings, the fantasy and sci-fi aspects of his stories feel all the more pertinent and applicable to our own world. Through this, Anderson's magic shines.

I have to say that I had a very interesting experience with this book. As I started it, I was captivated by the very bewitching opener, "House Rule," in which figures from across history meet in a tavern for a single night of drink, conversation, and general good cheer. As I continued into the more Norse-centred tales at the start of this short story collection, I found myself struggling to trudge through their dense names and imperceptible themes. It took me a few days to get through some of the longer stories, and some of that reading felt more out of stubbornness than honest enjoyment. However, as I moved on to tales like "The Valor of Cappen Varra" and "Superstition," I knew there was something special about Anderson's fertile mind, but I still lacked adequate bearings to fully grasp it. Thankfully, a couple of Anderson's personal essays allowed me greater insight into his approach to writing, as well as his inpiration, and the depth of his mind in general.

Reading "On Thud and Blunder," which is Anderson's exploration of heroic fantasy and its archetypes, I was able to learn about the author's love for his craft, and just how deeply he has thought about every minute detail. The essay is often comedic, talking about things like maidens who never seem to get pregnant regardless of how often they bed with a man, or horses that never need to stop for water or food, and men who can lift fifty pound swords as if they were spoons. He talks about the need for fantasy writers to broaden their minds and think about everyday things like the need for people to eat, even in stories, and the threat of disease and famine, which are rarely explored in heroic fantasy despite often taking place in the Middle Ages. I devoured this essay, along with his rumination on the differences and similarities between science fiction and fantasy, called "Fantasy in the Age of Science." Anderson seems like a true lover of his chosen genres, and as much a critic as a wonderful and poetic wordsmith. It was these two essays, as well as the afterword, which gave me greater appreciation for the tales that I had read previously in the book; even the ones that I did not initially enjoy or "get."

Fantasy acts as a sampler of Anderson's works, and provides tales that range from whimsical, epic, chilling, comedic, to thought-provoking. It accomplishes its job of making me hunger for more of his work, especially after reading the descriptions and praise for them in the afterword, as well as for Anderson's careful writing style and reverence for his subject matter. There seems to be much to this man's imagination, and to his literary skillset. Upon finishing the book, I went back and re-read the two essays and the afterword just because I was so inspired by them. They all mention works that have inspired the author, and made me aware of names in the genre that I had not known of beforehand. Poul Anderson has a rich pedigree, and I can sense it in his words here. I hope to delve deeper into his works in the future, and broaden my own perspective of the fantasy and science fiction genres, which I learn to love and appreciate all the more as I am exposed to thoughts and words such as the ones found in Fantasy.

I may not have expressed myself too clearly in this review, but that may be because I am still trying to comprehend what I have just read. I feel as though I have cracked the earth atop an abundant and rich reservoir, and I want to plunge in with a smiling face and an open mind. If Anderson is a poet of fantasy and science fiction, this is his introductory statement.

The Verdict:
Grading this experience is difficult, because the first time through sometimes felt like a forced struggle, but one which was ultimately rewarding. If I were to grade the book knowing what I know now of the complete experience, I would likely recommend it to fans of fantasy in general. However, if you are not a fantasy or science fiction fan, this book will likely feel alien to you; especially the Norse bits, which I still want to go back and experience again. (getting used to names like Ottar and Geirolf takes time) It seems like one has to have a bit of a background in mythology and history to understand what some of these stories are trying to reference in order to fully appreciate them. For that reason, this is not a book for everybody, but it does reward the patient reader who does not mind going outside of the source material to really understand the richness of stories that may have initially felt insignificant and rudderless.

3.5/5

Up Next:
The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle.

The Age of Miracles Has Not Passed

Title: The Illustrated Man
Author: Ray Bradbury
Published: 1951
Pages: 186

Reading Time: Fall 2010.

Plot Teaser:
At the furthest limits of the imagination, in worlds upon worlds of time and space, and on the green hills of future earth, these are tales to set you shivering, gasping, gaping with terror and with wonder. Nineteen incomparable stories that blend weird fantasy and chilling truth in the magic manner of a master.

How I Got It:
This was a cheap purchase from the basement of The Westdale Bookworm in Hamilton, ON. Having loved Bradbury's short stories when I was introduced to R is for Rocket by a friend in my MA year at York University, I just wanted to read more of this grand master's work.

The Review:
When it comes to short stories, few are better than the works of Ray Bradbury. In one of his most famous collections, The Illustrated Man shows a writer at the height of his prowess, penning fantastic tales that span outer and inner space. Book-ended by a story of a tattooed man whose body art comes to life to tell tales of grandeur, this collection includes magic, space travel, and the optimism of post-war America. It is loaded with nostalgic images of rocket men, happy children, and the idea that anything is possible. In short, it is written for anyone who has ever had a dream, or thought that miracles still do happen in modern day.

What is most typical of Bradbury's style is his love of the American countryside, romanticized suburban life, and the push and pull between conservative and liberal values. His wordplay often borders on the poetic, and generally falls into the category of nostalgic and idealized prose. For instance:

"The cooling afternoon rain had come over the valley, touching the corn in the tilled mountain fields, tapping on the dry grass roof of the hut. In the rainy darkness the woman ground corn between cakes of lava rock, working steadily. In the wet lightlessness, somewhere, a baby cried." ("The Highway," p.39)

The wonder of his words is his ability to paint his stories with these beautiful images, but still keep them grounded in something people can relate to. And if you find yourself not being able to relate to one story, you can always admire the skill with which Bradbury splatters his canvasses. There is also the fact that these are short stories, so that if you do not like one, you may perhaps like the one after it. Thankfully, most of the tales in here are of good quality, and provide some quality entertainment. Though they may not feel modern, simply based on the year Bradbury wrote these stories in, they do transport you back to a time when things felt hopeful and beautiful, or shoot you into space and fill your mind with possibility.

Having been written 18 years before the first manned moon landing, Bradbury was free to let his mind wander with the possibilities of space. While he may have been way off with his assessment of the outer planets and their atmospheres, it is the human element that gives the stories their strength. A man named Saul Williams may never wake up from his tent on Mars, his lungs filled with "blood rust," but we can still feel his pain at the loss of New York and the crippling of his mind. There is also fun to be found in Bradbury's space stories in particular, for the fact that we can look back on them and smile at the innocence and purity of thought that Bradbury had about the future. He never claimed to be a hard sci-fi writer, and that is completely forgiven here because he brings such fantastic imagination to his little tales of wonder.

With so much unreality in these stories, one would think they would not resonate with the reader. On the contrary, they are all the more effective due to their exaggerated depictions of human foibles and virtues. As adduced, Bradbury has a handle on humanity, its habits, and its potential. These stories are not solely meant to entertain, though they do accomplish that just fine, but to inspire and ignite one's imagination to consider greater possibilities and incredible futures. In that regard, The Illustrated Man is a time capsule of one man's vision of his present, and his ferocious passion towards what he saw as feasible and achievable. Like the man at the start of the story, we are left with vibrant shapes and colours at the end.

"I had seen what there was to see. The stories were told; they were over and done. There remained only that empty space upon the Illustrated Man's back, that area of jumbled colours and shapes." (p.186)

What we see in these stories is ourselves.

The Verdict:
More than just a charming collection of short stories, Ray Bradbury's creativity inspires us to dream about the possible. While the science of its sci-fi stories may be completely inaccurate in most cases, it is the human element and the call to simply imagine what we can achieve that make this collection a winner.

4/5

Up Next:
Fantasy by Poul Anderson.

Grounded High Fantasy

Title: Fool's Errand (The Tawny Man Book 1)
Author: Robin Hobb
Published: 2002
Pages: 662

Reading Time: Fall 2010.

Plot Teaser:
For fifteen years FitzChivalry Farseer has lived in self-imposed exile, assumed to be dead by almost all who once cared about him. But that is about to change when destiny seeks him once again. Prince Dutiful, the young heir to the Farseer throne, has vanished and FitzChivalry, possessed of magical skills both royal and profane, is the only one who can retrieve him in time for his betrothal ceremony - thus sparing the Six Duchies profound political embarrassment...or worse. But even Fitz does not suspect the web of treachery that awaits him or how his loyalties to his Queen, his partner, and those who share his magic will be tested to the breaking point.

How I Got It:
I bought this book brand new from an Indigo or a Chapters store. Unfortunately, my memory is fairly poor and I can't recall which one it was. Likely in Ancaster, ON, near the Silver City theatres. It was at some point in 2009.

The Review:
"He came one late, wet spring, and brought the wide world back to my doorstep. I was thirty-five that year. When I was twenty, I would have considered a man of my current age to be teetering on the verge of dotage. These days, it seemed neither young nor old to me, but a suspension between the two. I no longer had the excuse of callow youth, and I could not yet claim the eccentricities of age. In many ways, I was no longer sure what I thought of myself. Sometimes it seemed that my life was slowly disappearing behind me, fading like footprints in the rain, until perhaps I had always been the quiet man living an unremarkable life in a cottage between the forest and the sea."

With these words, Robin Hobb welcomes her readers back to the world of The Six Duchies and the life of Fitzchivalry Farseer. Now a hermit trying to quietly live out the rest of his years in self-imposed exile from his kingdom, Fitz is destined to be called back into royal life and politics, whether he likes it or not. Fans of the original Farseer Trilogy (Assassin's Apprentice, Royal Assassin, and Assassin's Quest) will feel right at home with the setting, characters, magic, and scenarios in Fool's Errand. It is like putting on an old, comfortable pair of slippers and walking around your house in them, only to discover that there is an attic you had not noticed until now. Readers (fantasy lovers in particular) who have never picked up one of Hobb's books would do better to read the original three books first, as it makes character appearances and interactions in Fool's Errand feel weightier and more emotionally resonant. As a stand alone title, this is a masterful work of grounded fantasy, but when read in the context of Hobb's ever-developing universe, it is an extremely satisfying continuation and re-start for these characters and their world.

I will do my best not to spoil too much of the story in this review, as the back of the book does that just fine. In fact, the back cover reveals an important plot point that does not happen until over two hundred pages into the adventure, so you are better off not reading it, and diving in head first. Essentially, everything you need to know to start this story is in the first paragraph I quoted above: Fitz has been living away from his old life, but the ghosts of the past quickly come back to haunt him and to pull him back into his former role as the great changer and catalyst. The fate of the kingdom rests on his shoulders, and he must make a decision as to whether or not he will become involved in dealings that he thought he would never have to think about again. The inevitable decision is obvious, but Hobb does a tremendous job of spreading out Fitz's agonizing over his choice, as he is visited in turn by faces familiar and fresh. The first part of the book gives a wonderful re-introduction to some of the major players from the original adventures. This is a brilliant bit of writing, as it accomplishes two things: first, it clears up and refreshes readers' minds about Fitz's previous life and actions, and second, it creates a perfect bridge for new readers, while being a joy for those already familiar with these characters. I can not stress enough how deftly Hobb penned the setup of this book.

Once things really get going, and the real quest begins, Hobb brings her trademark characterization to the forefront, and focuses on relationships, personalities, and great dialogue. I referred to this as "grounded fantasy" earlier on for this very reason. Despite the story taking place in a world where some men and women can mentally bond and communicate with beasts, everything feels decidedly human and personal. There is not a genre archetype to be found, and Hobb is constantly challenging conventions by developing a universe and a cast of characters that are truly unlike anything else in the fantasy realm. There are no magicians firing off fireballs or bolts of lightning; these are real people making real decisions. The anguish that is felt by Fitz alone makes him easily memorable, sympathetic, and relatable. Who has not thought about their place in the world, or how much of themselves to sacrifice for the good of their community or country? The book succeeds brilliantly because it is brings such larger philosophical questions to light, and brings them to sometimes uncomfortable conclusions.

This is one of the easiest recommendations I can give. Simply put, Hobb is at the peak of her craft in this book, and everything flows so seamlessly that you will think the adventure feels much shorter than its 662 pages suggest. The characters make mistakes, they grow, they change, and there are permanent consequences for some of their decisions. Hobb does not take the easy way out, but writes in a way that transcends basic genre fiction, and enters the realm of truly important literature. Despite the fantastic circumstances, the book feels personally relevant, and those who take the time to reflect on some of the questions it poses will be all the more rewarded for it.

The Verdict:
If you do not like elves, dwarves, and fairies, then Hobb might be just the writer to convert you to fantasy. With an original magic system, and characters that you learn to love and feel at home with, this is the definition of a page turner. It also poses enough philosophically relevant questions to tickle even the biggest genre cynic's mind. Read the Farseer Trilogy, then move on to this.

4.5/5

Up Next:
On My Way to Paradise by Dave Wolverton.

Juvenile Silliness

Title: Sunlight and Shadow
Author: Cameron Dokey
Published: 2004
Pages: 184

Reading Time: January 3-January 4, 2010.

Plot Teaser:
Thus begins a tale of Mina, a girl-child born on the longest night of the darkest month of the year. When her father looked at her, all he saw was what he feared: By birth, by nature, she belonged to the Dark. So when Mina turned sixteen, her father took her away from shadow and brought her into sunlight. In retaliation, her mother lured a handsome prince into a deadly agreement: If he frees Mina, he can claim her as his bride. Now Mina and her prince must endure deadly trials - of love and fate and family - before they can truly live happily ever after...

How I Got It:
This was another book that I found in a four or five for a dollar pile at Barone's Books, in Stoney Creek, Ontario. I think it was some time in 2008, but I could be wrong. It is a re-imagining of Mozart's The Magic Flute, which I knew nothing about before reading this.

The Review:
Based on a Mozart opera called The Magic Flute, Cameron Dokey's re-imagining is effective young adult fiction with a touch of charm and whimsy. While the book is overly dramatic at times, which I suppose is the point, it is nonetheless entertaining largely as a result of Dokey's structural choices. If you enjoy light-hearted fantasy stories or fairy tales about princes and princesses, this book is a decent bet.

The basic premise is this: Mina is a child of both light and darkness, with her parents being the overseers of the day and the night. On her sixteenth birthday, some incredibly significant event is supposed to occur. Her father abducts his own daughter with the intention of marrying her to a man of his choosing; a long-time apprentice of his. Outside of this plot, the story jumps around to a few other kingdoms where events take place that eventually lead all of the main players to the same place. Oh, and all of them are guided by love and the desire to know their hearts and find their true loves. There are also some magic bells and a flute.

I do not want to spoil everything, but to be honest the story is a bit silly. There seems to be a lack of genuine motivation on the part of Mina's father, and one of his choices late in the book is simply not consistent with the motivations that are clearly visible up to that point. I will simply say he puts his own daughter in a dire situation with her new-found love, when his goal all along was to preserve Mina. To put her in a situation where she could literally die seems unreasonable and just plain stupid. Of course, everything plays out happily in the end, with the power of love trumping all other emotions or logic. People literally fall in love at first sight more than a few times in this book, which make it seem a little hokey. However, I cannot really blame the author for that since she had pre-existing material guiding her.

The most interesting thing about this book is its structure. Every chapter is told through the eyes of a different narrator, which is great if you read the book in large chunks at a time. You get to see the perspectives of the perceived villains as well as the heroes. This gives the book a neat balance and makes sure there is never really a dull moment. The only disappointing thing is that none of the characters really has a distinct voice in the novel, and the writing style generally remains the same for all of them, which is one of syruppy drama. For example:

"I felt a pain so sharp I feared my very bones would splinter and pierce my flesh. This was my father. All my life I had wanted him to know and to love me. The father whom, for all my life, I had wished to know and to love. If he had waited just a few more hours, who is to say what might have been possible between us? But he had not, and so I knew there could be nothing."

Everything is reactionary and laid bare to the point where reason simply does not exist. The only thing that differentiates the narrators is their motivations and locations in time and space. Still, it was nice of the author to attempt to jazz up the adventure in some way.

While I admit the story is charming and whimsical in the way it has no real basis in reality, it is these same traits that slightly distance the reader from the events. Yes, there is certainly humanity, and the first person approach of each chapter ensures a sense of engagement, but any serious reader will likely find themselves not caring much for what happens to these characters because they are in a world where anything is possible. There is never a sense that anything is going to go wrong, and the only real thing to look forward to is discovering who ends up with who. Again, this was originally an opera, so perhaps the point is not in the end results, but in the journey, which is itself an enjoyable one.

The Verdict:
If you have a young daughter and want to get her interested in reading, this might be a good choice. Everyone else will likely approach it with a half-smile for all its fuzzy charm amidst some very safe drama. Fans of The Magic Flute may wish to give this a go, as it does feature some changes in characters' depictions, while offering up a fresh way to re-tell the original tale.

3.5/5

Up Next:
Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe.

The Pains of Youth

Title: Peter Pan
Author: J.M. Barrie
Illustrator: F.D. Bedford
Published: 1911 (Wordsworth Edition, 1993)
Pages: 176

Reading Time: December 23-December 30, 2009.

Plot Teaser:
The magical Peter Pan comes to the night nursery of the Darling children, Wendy, John and Michael. He teaches them to fly, then takes them through the sky to Never-Never Land, where they find Red Indians, wolves, Mermaids, and...Pirates. The leader of the pirates is the sinister Captain Hook. His hand was bitten off by a crocodile, who, as Captain Hook explains "liked me arm so much that he has followed me ever since, licking his lips for the rest of me." After lots of adventures, the story reaches its exciting climax as Peter, Wendy and the children do battle with Captain Hook and his band.

How I Got It:
I found this edition on top of a $4.99 bargain table at Chapters in Ancaster, Ontario. I remember also picking up The Wizard of Oz that day, which I really enjoyed. I think I wanted to read a couple of the classic children's stories, since I had never done so before.

The Review:
Most North Americans and Europeans are likely familiar with the story of the boy who would not grow up. Whether it is through this book, or the popular children's film, the story is simple and universal. Essentially, Peter Pan is about the desire to remain a child forever, and to stay in the emotions and ignorance of youth. It follows the life of the Darling children, particularly Wendy, as they are swept off to a magical land of fantasy and adventure, where they slowly forget their past lives and parents. The children desire to remain in Neverland forever, and never want to grow old. It is something most of us can relate to, and the book captures the energy and innocence of childhood.

First of all, the way Barrie tells the story like a paternal figure sitting by the reader's bedside is appropriate for the subject matter. He constantly gives hints of future events, or plays with the narrative by writing about the various avenues the story could take, or what he can talk about, and this creates a sense of distance, while showing off his storytelling ability. He makes the reader an active part of the adventure. If anything, he knows his audience and how to speak to them.

The adventure housed within the pages also moves at a linear and brisk pace. Barrie goes from place to place, and keeps the reader interested, largely as a result of his storytelling style. It must be said that this book truly is more for children than adults with its handholding style, aside from an allusion to a fairie orgy and Tinkerbell's sexual frustration, that are not enough to take the book out of the realm of children's fiction. Barrie's handling of Peter Pan as a short-sighted and immature boy is also interesting, as I was sometimes not sure whether to like him or loathe him for his arrogance and thoughtless ignorance. Consequently, the themes explored are more than relevant to all age groups, and the ending in particular resonated with me as an adult.

Still, the reasons I like the book and why I think many young adults would enjoy it, are also the reasons I do not love it. Maybe I am not looking into the book deeply enough, but it is a pretty basic tale of the growing pains associated with coming of age, and realizing that you are no longer a child. As Barrie says, "two is the beginning of the end." I admire his ability to encapsulate the vibrant energy of childhood, but feel there is a lack of complexity in the analysis, aside from the ending and his handling of Peter. It may sound like I am complaining about a children's book being a children's book, and I do feel the ending is excellent and the exploration of mothers interesting, but I can not help but feel slightly underwhelmed by the events. It may because I knew the story going in, and felt more like I was playing out something that was already familiar and not needing further discussion.

The above points aside, this is an enjoyable romp through a fantasy land, and when you consider it was novelized in 1911, it is even more impressive. However, I must grade the book on how it stands up today, and not how it would have stood in its time of publication. With that in mind, I enjoyed the book for what it is, but it is a story that does not need to be told more than once. I suppose I may just be a bitter adult in saying that, but so be it.

The Verdict:
There are better fantasy adventures out there, but if you simply must read the classics or are interested in coming of age stories and the transition from childhood to adulthood, this is a solid bet. Again, I can only grade my own experience with the book, which was a little above mildly enjoyable. I am sure there are others who adore it, and you are free to take their word for it as well.

3.5/5

Next Up:
Fallen by David Maine.

Shot In The Dark

Title: The Gunslinger (The Dark Tower I)
Author: Stephen King
Illustrator: Michael Whelan
Published: 1982 (revised edition in 2003)
Pages: 300

Reading Time: December 13-December 17, 2009.

Plot Teaser:
This heroic fantasy is set in a world of ominous landscape and macabre menace that is a dark mirror of our own. A spellbinding tale of good versus evil, it features one of Stephen King's most powerful creations - the gunslinger, a haunting figure who embodies the qualities of the lone hero through the ages, from ancient myth to frontier Western legend. The gunslinger's quest involves the pursuit of the man in black, a liaison with the sexually ravenous Alice, and a friendship with the boy from New York called Jake. Both grippingly realistic and eerily dreamlike, The Gunslinger is stunning proof of Stephen King's storytelling sorcery.

How I Got It:
This was a 2008 Christmas gift from a friend in Hamilton, Ontario who swore by this series and by King himself. I had never read any Stephen King before this book, not because of a dislike for anything that is remotely popular - although that did prick my mind a bit - but because I was never too interested in horror fiction. The Gunslinger was supposed to be different, and its Western fantasy setting admittedly piqued my interest.

The Review:
In his introduction to this revised and expanded edition of the 1982 novel, Stephen King writes that one of his goals for The Gunslinger was to create a world that blended The Lord of the Rings with The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Say what you will, but that idea is pretty darned cool and ambitious, and I believe he has succeeded in achieving this goal to a degree. Hyperbole and high concepts aside, it is the characters and the world that surrounds them that take centre stage in this book. King does an excellent job of revealing the protagonist's history in a patient way, and Roland's confrontation at the end of the narrative brings together and simultaneously explodes what King had been building up to that point.

In essence, this is a book about the journey; the quest; the mythological hero who stands outside of time. As Roland travels across barren landscapes in an inexplicable hunt for the mysterious Man in Black, King's craftsmanship takes centre stage, as he succeeds in having his writing style mirror the narrative substance. Time is a very nebulous concept throughout the book, as Roland and other characters are constantly waking up without a sense of how many hours, days, or weeks may have passed them by. A recurring phrase in the story is "the world had moved on." These narrative touches give clues to what is hiding under the veneer of a simple chase novel, and the importance of these phrases and how King handles time throughout the book are illuminated in the climax. Credit must be given to the author for this use of perpetual forshadowing and overarching themes that actually amount to something by the end.

In addition to the explicit time language mentioned above, the structure of the book also seems to exist in a massive vacuum. The author jumps from action in the present, to flashbacks, to dreams, and back to the present again. Everything seamlessly blends together, and it never becomes confusing, as each scene is part of the greater tapestry that King is constantly building on here. And yet, we follow Roland through deserts, decrepit towns and their dirty taverns, mountains, and farms, without ever missing a beat. There is a consistent rhythm that pushes the book forward, and despite it being split into five marked sections, each noted by a clean page and an illustration, there is a strong sense of continuity.

While the book is about one man hunting another on the outside, there are plot points that keep pushing the book into the realm of the weird, and that keep the reader guessing as to what is actually going on. For instance, just when I thought I had a handle of the book's universe, Roland meets Jake, who seems to be from New York, and a world of cars and industry. Up to that point in the novel, the reader is getting comfortable in an Old West setting, and all that comes with it. Elements like this keep things interesting, and King carefully introduces them to keep the reader hooked just enough, never fully exposing his hand until the end. Even then, things are just getting started. By the final page, I had learned much about Roland, the Man in Black, the world they inhabit, and I got a hint of the much bigger storyline of the Dark Tower. King hooked me and had me ready to pick up the second book in the series, and that is the sign of a writer who knows just how much to tell and when to tell it.

If I had to point out a problem with the book, I personally did not like the blanket portrayal of women as being either horny, submissive, or crazy. I could not find a single positive female role model in the story, as they largely served to...well, serve. Or to tempt with their bodies, or to react with rage if Roland denied them his services. I have a feeling that Mr. King may have been scorned by more than one female during the time of writing this novel. Either way, there is a decidedly macho and patriarchal vibe that runs through much of the story, and when a woman is actually in power, it is because of her body and what she can do with it.

The above criticism aside, The Gunslinger is an engrossing adventure. It might seem slow and dry to some, but the observant and patient reader is rewarded by the end, and is left hungry for more. What more can one ask for from the first book in a series of seven?

The Verdict:
If you enjoy quest narratives and heroic mythology, you will likely enjoy this. I really like the way the story is paced, and the themes it hints at in the final encounter suggest an adventure on a truly epic scale. Once I get through my current backlog, I will likely continue the journey towards the Dark Tower.

4/5

Next Up:
Girl in a Red River Coat by Mary Peate.

Better Left Forgotten

Title: Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator
Author: Roald Dahl
Illustrator: Quentin Blake
Published: 1972
Pages: 159

Reading Time: December 5-December 7, 2009.

Plot Teaser:
Mr. Willy Wonka might be a genius with chocolate, but Charlie's family doesn't trust his flying skills one bit. And right now, he's at the helm of a giant glass elevator that's picking up speed and hurtling through space - with Charlie and the entire Bucket family stuck inside. As the elevator zips and zooms through the stratosphere, its passengers visit the world's first space hotel, battle the dreaded Vermicious Knids, discover reverse-aging pills, and - whether they know it or not - save the world. In this uproarious sequel to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl whisks his beloved characters along a remarkable, intergalactic joyride - and another magical fantasy adventure.

How I Got It:
As mentioned before, this is a borrowed set from Brossard, Quebec, and it belongs to my girlfriend. Now that I have finished it, it will likely be making its way back to the poutine province. I will say that it really is an impressive looking set, though!


The Review:
One of the things I enjoyed about Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was its sense of pacing; it had a natural flow and order to it. Not only that, but the events were not entirely predictable and they were always entertaining. However, in this direct sequel to Dahl's much-loved story, I am sad to say that while Dahl tries really hard to maintain a sense of fun and fantasy, there is very little guiding this whole storyline, and it honestly feels like an afterthought. Reading this after Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is like eating a really good meal, and then being offered seconds despite being completely full. All of the flavours from the start of the meal, while similar, just do not have the same impact on your taste buds and you feel like you are just stuffing yourself for the sake of it. You also end up regretting it afterwards.

So, what went wrong with this book? As mentioned, I think the biggest culprit of its mediocrity is its lack of focus. Allow me to explain. It literally picks up right where the first book left off, and has the entire Bucket family floating through space in Willy Wonka's Great Glass Elevator. They end up inside a space hotel, which is about to be docked by American astronauts. Inside the hotel they meet up with some unsavory alien characters, the Vermicious Knids, who proceed to scare them out. There is a chase scene in which the Knids are burned up in Earth's atmosphere. Back on Earth, and now in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, Mr. Wonka offers the elder Buckets a chance to be younger. There is a long, drawn out sequence of Charlie's grandparents taking too much of an anti-aging pill, and then having to find the pill that will bring them back up to their original ages. One of the grandparents ends up taking too much of that pill, and must take the original anti-aging pill again to end up back where she started. If this sounds needless and like a waste of space, that is because it is. It was predictable and did not serve much of a purpose.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory had purpose; it had a reason for its events. This book has paperthin reasons for the actions of its characters, and it feels like a bunch of stuff happening for the sake of a bunch of stuff happening. Now, I am not displeased with the book because it is not like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. No. I am displeased with the book because even as a standalone adventure, it is weak and unfocused, and not very fun or entertaining. Sure, there are a couple of songs and rhymes, and the Oompa-Loompas even make a return appearance, but the end result is still one of needless excess.

In addition to its lack of focus, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator chooses to centre around the least interesting characters in this literary universe: the Bucket grandparents. None of them have any characteristics that truly distinguish them from one another, and the majority of the time they are nuisances and they act like bratty children. The final third of the book in particular is frustrating because of the back-and-forth quest aspect of the anti-aging and aging medications. Never mind that this feels like two different stories mashed into one, and I am left with a feeling of "so what," which is never good for any book.

Finally, I did not come away with anything to really think about when I finished Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. Most children's books have some moral choices for the characters to make, or a greater lesson to be learned. This book has very little of either, and it feels futile as a consequence.

So, is there anything good at all about this story? Well, I suppose it is nice to see Charlie Bucket, Grandpa Joe, and Willy Wonka back in action. Quentin Blake's art is also incredibly charming and whimsical. Aside from these two things, I found this book to be a major downgrade after such a memorable predecessor. Perhaps its greatest crime is that it takes such a perfect ending in the first book, and turns it into such a miscalculated mess.

The Verdict:
While it is nice to read about these characters again, and to admire Quentin Blake's artwork, the final product feels unpolished, unfocused, and completely forgettable. By choosing to focus on uninteresting characters and providing a plot that is a giant mishmash of half ideas, Dahl sadly provides a tale that slightly tarnishes the preceding work, and one that would have been better left in a private notebook somewhere.

1.5/5

Next Up:
The Dreamfighter and Other Creation Tales by Ted Hughes.