Love and Environmentalism in Sunken Los Angeles

Title: Under the City of Angels
Author: Jerry Earl Brown
Published: 1981
Pages: 291

Reading Time: January - February 2011.

Plot Teaser:
Jack Kelso is a scavenger, a half-crazed loner, a burnt-out case, always one jump ahead of the government, eking out an uneasy living in the sunken ruins of L.A. Then he meets Judith - mysterious, beautiful, driven - who offers him an assignment only "Mad Jack" Kelso would be crazy enough to take on. He takes the job, and gets love in the bargain. Suddenly, their newfound happiness, and perhaps the fate of the entire planet, is threatened by a deadly power strugle on an alien world light centuries away...

How I Got It:
I can not recall whether I bought this at a Value Village in Hamilton or Burlington, or at Barone's Books in Stoney Creek, ON. Regardless, I was swayed by the cover, the premise, and the cheap price. I am pretty sure I got this one in a 4 for $1 deal or something similar. I am a sucker for science fiction and for a good deal.

The Review:
Forthcoming.

The Verdict:
Forthcoming.

Up Next:
The Toynbee Convector by Ray Bradbury.

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.

To Serve Oneself or One's Society?

Title: On My Way To Paradise
Author: Dave Wolverton
Published: 1989
Pages: 521

Reading Time: Summer/Fall 2010. Maybe.

Plot Teaser:
In a world of ever-worsening crisis, Angelo Osic is an anomaly: a man who cares about others. One day he aids a stranger...and calls down disaster, for the woman called Tamara is also a woman on the run, the only human with the knowledge that will save Earth from the artificial intelligences plotting to overthrow it.

Fleeing the assassins who seek him now as well as Tamara, Angelo seizes the only escape route available: to sign on as a mercenary with the Japanese Motoki Corporation in its genocidal war against the barbarian Yabajin. Jacked into training machines that simulate warfare, Angelo "dies" a hundred times...and is resurrected to fight again. In a world of death, he dreams only of life - and the freedom to love once more.

How I Got It:
I picked this up at either a Value Village or a used book store at some point in 2009, or maybe even 2008. After a while, these things start to blend in together. I was attracted by Orson Scott Card's blurb on the front cover, and the colourful embossed cover. Yep.

The Review:
This was Dave Wolverton's first novel. Today, he is more commonly known by his pen name, David Farland, and is famous for his Runelords fantasy series. Not being familiar with his fantasy works, I went into On My Way To Paradise with a completely fresh mind. As a fan of science fiction, I have always been interested by stories of a single man being affected by the environment around him, and this one is a good entry into that field.

The protagonist is Angelo Osic, a doctor who has a lot of compassion for his fellow man, but whose world and ideals are challenged the day a mysterious woman named Tamara staggers into his practice. She seems to be on the run, and gives veiled answers when Angelo tries asking her questions about her past and how she sustained her injuries. Unwittingly, the doctor is forced into a grander narrative, and ends up being swept away into a much larger celestial conflict. Without ruining anything, Angelo is forced to enroll in the military, and to serve a giant Japanese corporation against what the corporation calls barbarians.

Orson Scott Card's praise on the front of the book does not seem coincidental, as Osic and a mixed crew of humans and cyborgs spend a lot of time in combat simulations similar to those in Scott Card's Ender's Game. However, unlike Ender's Game, Wolverton does not pull any punches in his use of crude language, and goes into some very gory and uncomfortable areas, including rape. This is an adult book and features explicit language and scenes. The front cover almost seems inappropriate for such a dark story, unless it was meant to add contrast and show that violence seems unreal and cartoony in a simulation. Regardless, the real consequences of war and battle are in the mind, if not moreso than in the real world.

Wolverton is very interested in the causes of conflict, the power of choice, and the nature of humanity. His depiction of different social systems is interesting, especially as they pertain to the role of the individual in those social systems. How much should a person have to give up for their own freedom, and the freedom of their nation or planet? How much should a person allow others to invade their space, both physical and mental, in the interests of greater peace? The book sometimes feels like a critique of socialism and individualism, and those are often the most fascinating bits to read. The only downside is that sometimes it feels like Wolverton is trying to take on too much, which dilutes each issue that he is trying to explore. Nevertheless, this is a good book, not just as a first book, but as something that a seasoned veteran would be proud of.

The Verdict:
As an exploration of what it means to be an individual and how to retain dignity in a forced social system, On My Way To Paradise succeeds. It does feel slightly long at times, as well as a little bloated in its themes, but when it goes into detail about social philosophy, it provides some very satisfying brain food. It is not one of my favourite books ever, but it is still worth a look if you are looking for something in the style of an adult Ender's Game.

3.5/5

Up Next:
The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury.

I Don't Belong Here

Title: Neuromancer
Author: William Gibson
Published: 1984
Pages: 271

Reading Time: September 24-December 3, 2009.

Plot Teaser:
Case was the sharpest data thief in the Matrix, until an ex-employer crippled his nervous system. Now a new employer has recruited him for a last-chance run against an unthinkably powerful artificial intelligence. With a mirror-eyed girl street-samurai riding shotgun, he's ready for the silicon-quick, bleakly prophetic adventure that upped the ante of an entire genre of fiction.

How I Got It:
I initially purchased a brand new copy of Neuromancer from Chapters in Ancaster, Ontario, at some point between 2007 and 2008. I was aware of its place in the field of science fiction as a trend setter, particularly in the cyberpunk subgenre. Then, in December 2008, I got another copy of the book as a Secret Santa gift in Montreal, Quebec. I was rather excited to read this revered book.

The Review:
There are some books that are always mentioned in genre discussions as being the pinnacles of the genre in question. Neuromancer is such a book, as you can not escape it in any discussion related to science fiction, and cyberpunk in particular. It was the book that The Matrix hocked a lot of its ideas from, with Gibson being considered a prophet and visionary for being one of the first authors to write about virtual reality, megacorporations, genetic engineering, and artificial intelligence before they became common topics in popular culture. Whether these claims reek of hyperbole or are planted in truth is irrelevant: the myths of books like Neuromancer often transcend the works themselves.

With these things in mind, I dove into the book and was left with one predominant feeling by the end: stupefied. Now, I am not the most intellectual individual on the face of the planet, nor do I claim to have magical decoding powers when it comes to any work of literature. However, I like to think that I can sink my teeth into just about anything and come out with a decent understanding of the author's aims, or at least an understanding of the plot. Even if I am unable to fully express my ideas on the work, I can still attach my own interpretation to the events and come out with something worth ruminating on, or discussing with friends. Books are not simply more cerebral forms of entertainment; they are vehicles for individual, social, and cultural analysis. As such, I was incredibly frustrated to discover that I was simply lost for almost the entire duration of Neuromancer, and I could not pull out anything worth thinking about.

The plot setup seems simple enough, and if you read a synopsis of it anywhere online or even on its back cover, you are led to believe that this is a desolate world with a parallel virtual reality. While I got a basic sense of that through Gibson's prose, his reluctance to explain just about anything left me feeling stranded by the author. Slang is meant to be deciphered on your own. Names of people, places, constructs, and other things are introduced at such a rapid pace at times, that once you feel you have a grasp of at least some of the central players, something else is thrown in to confuse you further. This sense of disorientation does not aid any desire to invest yourself in the novel, as it feels like a fever dream. Gibson's switching between realities and his prose in general feel so choppy to the point of being incomprehensible at times, or so reaching for cybercool that they sound amateur and childish. Here are some examples:

"Archipelago. The islands. Torus, spindle, cluster. Human DNA spreading out from gravity's steep well like an oilslick."

"The bartender's smile widened. His ugliness was the stuff of legend. In an age of affordable beauty, there was something heraldic about his lack of it."

"But the chrome stars held his gaze. They were mounted against scarlet ultrasuede with nearly invisible loops of nylon fishline, their centers stamped with dragons or yingyang symbols. They caught the street's neon and twisted it, and it came to Case that these were the stars under which he voyaged, his destiny spelled out in a constellation of cheap chrome."

"Raw edge of vomit in his throat."

Again, I am not a wordsmith myself and I have never published a novel, but I have read enough to cringe at some of his word choices and phrases. I have no doubt that William Gibson is a talented writer and that his mind is full of brilliant and piercing ideas about the virtual age, but I simply could not muster enough care for the characters or the events to compel me to trudge on ahead. And that is one of the biggest problems I personally had with this book: I didn't care about anything that was happening, nor did I find any of the characters terribly interesting. Compounded with the difficulty I had in understanding what was actually happening because of Gibson's "figure it out yourself" writing style (which I haven't minded in other novels), the paperthin characterization and spit-quick events made this one of the greatest literary chores I have ever had the displeasure of forcing myself to finish.

I honestly really wanted to like and even love this book. Maybe it was just not meant for me; maybe I am simply not smart enough to get it. Or maybe it really is as big of a confusing quagmire as I have indicated here. I think the answer likely lies somewhere in between. For all of the negativity I have heaped on the book here, I recognize its cultural significance, and what it means to the science fiction genre, and what it means to millions of readers. Maybe they are seeing something I am not, or they have been better acclimated to Gibson's style of writing. Whatever the reason, I cannot discourage anyone from liking what they like, but I cannot jump on this wagon.

The Verdict:
This is not a book for everybody, and I seem to fall into the category of people who it's not for. If you are a science fiction completist, go nuts; maybe you will get more out of the experience than I did. As is, I found Neuromancer to be confusing, dated, and an utter chore to get through. A 271 page book should not take a month and a half to finish. At least the punishment is over for me. Next!

2/5

Next up:
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl. (I need something much lighter after such a personally punishing read)