Pre-turkey booklog
Nov. 26th, 2008 01:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinityofoneHappy (early) Thanksgiving, everyone! Here's some more booklog to whet your appetite. Well, book reviews make me hungry, anyway.
192. Time Was, Nora Roberts — Nora Roberts seems pretty awesome, often stepping in as the voice of reason whenever there’s a romance fandom kerfuffle (it happens more than you might think). I wish I could have felt as positive about this book, but it was just…bad. On a technical level, it was far more competent than a lot of romance novels I’ve read (and than a lot of novels, period), but it suffered from many of my typical problems with the genre.
An accident knocks 23rd century pilot Caleb Hornblower (yes, really. Am I missing some sort of winking reference to C.S. Forester or something?) back to the 20th century, where he crash-lands near a cabin belonging to Liberty Stone (yes, really). And once that happens, proximity—both physical and temporal—seems to be enough to make Libby and Caleb fall in love. There’s really nothing about their personalities or interactions that would make one think that they are right for each other, but nevertheless, fall in love they do. And that’s basically the entire plot.
I read this for the time travel, surprise surprise. I liked the idea of future!dude coming back and being perplexed by the (then-)present. But the glimpses Roberts provides of Caleb’s 23rd century society really make no sense at all, so it’s hard to relate to where he’s coming from. Worse, there never stops being creepy undertones of male sexual power and female weakness. All of Caleb and Libby’s intimate encounters involve him forcing her a little, or getting too rough for a while before deciding to try to be gentle. It’s kind of squicky, and I found it totally unsexy. This book was first published in 1989, and from my perspective in the far distant future of the 21st century, it really does seem like a long ago, primitive era—and not one I’d care to revisit.
193. A Well-Timed Enchantment, Vivian Vande Velde — Like William Sleator, Vande Velde is one of the writers I read compulsively when I was about 12 or 13, even though I was often surprised at the rather dramatic shifts in quality from work to work. This novel is not one of Vande Velde’s worst, though neither is it one of her best. It is, however, one I’ve read before—something I realized only halfway through, which suggests that this is also one of her more forgettable books. Yeah: there’s really not all that much of note here. While on vacation in the French countryside, Deanna accidentally drops her Mickey Mouse watch into a magic wall, potentially causing a paradox that she must go back in time and correct before the future is altered. With the help of some rather gay elves, she finds herself back in medieval France. Unfortunately, as Vande Velde writes it, the past is as Disney as the watch. Way too much of the narrative is spent on Deanna fumbling around this plasticy version of a castle filled with plasticy lords and ladies (and even a plasticy wizard). The only really interesting part of the book involves Deanna’s cat Oliver, whom the elves turn into a boy and send back in time to help her. I liked Oliver’s mix of humanness and catness (he’s amusingly literal—like Anya, in a way!) but his and Deanna’s relationship is glossed over until the very end, which puts a dampener on what’s by far the most original part of the novel. So, judging by my poor memory, this book didn’t impress me much when I was 12, and it doesn’t impress me much now either.
194. Elantris, Brandon Sanderson — Epic high fantasy that contains some interesting ideas and compelling characters, but suffers from being way, way too long. I like political maneuverings and rebuilding societies and all that good stuff, but do I need to read pages and pages describing every detail of endless conversations in which the characters lay out their plans and argue before arguing and laying out their plans some more? No, I do not. Maybe high fantasy is just not my thing, but I can say with confidence that a lot of fantasy novels, this one included, could do with being a lot less epic.
195. Clockwork, Philip Pullman — A spooky and mysterious children’s offering from Pullman. I’m not sure it really comes together very well at the end, but the journey is interesting, anyway.
196. Naked Picture of Famous People, Jon Stewart — Finally found a cheap copy of this to call my own, so I reread it in celebration. From what I’ve seen, a lot of people don’t click with this the same way they do with Stewart’s more recent Daily Show work, but there’s something about these comic essays that I find darkly satisfying. My favorite by far is “The New Judaism.” Haha, oh dear. It’s funny ‘cause it’s true.
197. I Was Told There’d Be Cake, Sloane Crosley — Exhibit A in the case for why every single vaguely snarky person who gets good laughs when telling stories at parties should not be encouraged to publish a memoir/collection of personal essays. Don’t get me wrong: Crosley is a perfectly decent writer, but her experiences are just so everyday that reading this collection, I found myself puzzled as to why I was encountering it in book form as opposed to on someone’s LJ or something. So she had a bad boss! She went to camp! She has a funny name! She had an unpleasant moving experience one time! So what? If Crosley were able to draw some particular insight from these experiences, that would be one thing, but she doesn’t. Nor is she uniquely, fall-off-the-couch funny—just sort of quietly amusing. And so the impression I’m left with is that I, or any number of my friends, could write this exact same book—and maybe do it better. Crosley was just smart or savvy or well-connected enough to land a publishing deal. Which, you know, props to her. But does it make her the second coming of David Sedaris, as a bunch of reviewers seem to think? No, it does not.
198. The Silver Metal Lover, Tanith Lee — Since I used to go by the name “Tanith” on the interwebs, I guess it’s good I finally read a Tanith Lee book. (As nice as it was to get complimented a couple of times on emulating Lee’s style in pieces of my writing, as far as I was concerned I was referencing an obscure Star Wars thing. Oh well, it’s geeky either way.) This was pretty cool. Jane, the protagonist and narrator, bugged me at first, but that made her development as a character even more compelling—Lee does a good job showing her change and grow as a person. I liked Silver’s development as well, and I liked them as a couple. I found the twist the narrative takes at the end kind of bizarre—robots and reincarnation? Really?—but overall I enjoyed this book very much, especially the middle sections when it’s just Jane, Silver, and the music they make.
199. Iron Man: Extremis, Warren Ellis — Having read a bunch of issues that deal with the aftereffects of the Extremis virus, I was excited to see how it all came about—especially because this arc was written by Warren Ellis, who has a reputation for being “OMG! Warren Ellis!” However, I was disappointed. This is pretty ho-hum and pedestrian—not nearly as exciting or interesting as I assumed it would be. I was under the impression that Tony was unwilling injected with the virus, but nope: he’s all, “Yeah, better dose me up with that shit so I can defeat the Big Bad.” Perhaps that’s more badass, but to me it’s also less compelling. Maybe this is a case of my expectations just being to high, but then I remember that Ellis’ run on Hellblazer didn’t exactly rock my world either.
200. The Uncommon Reader, Alan Bennett — Kind of adorably awesome RPF in which the Queen discovers reading, and thus discovers herself. This is a delightful little cupcake of a book. I guess I can see how some people could find it twee, but I think Bennett make the humor just sharp enough to keep things sweet but not saccharine. And I can’t help be enchanted by the idea that books and reading really might be this transformative.
Total Reviews: 200/235
192. Time Was, Nora Roberts — Nora Roberts seems pretty awesome, often stepping in as the voice of reason whenever there’s a romance fandom kerfuffle (it happens more than you might think). I wish I could have felt as positive about this book, but it was just…bad. On a technical level, it was far more competent than a lot of romance novels I’ve read (and than a lot of novels, period), but it suffered from many of my typical problems with the genre.
An accident knocks 23rd century pilot Caleb Hornblower (yes, really. Am I missing some sort of winking reference to C.S. Forester or something?) back to the 20th century, where he crash-lands near a cabin belonging to Liberty Stone (yes, really). And once that happens, proximity—both physical and temporal—seems to be enough to make Libby and Caleb fall in love. There’s really nothing about their personalities or interactions that would make one think that they are right for each other, but nevertheless, fall in love they do. And that’s basically the entire plot.
I read this for the time travel, surprise surprise. I liked the idea of future!dude coming back and being perplexed by the (then-)present. But the glimpses Roberts provides of Caleb’s 23rd century society really make no sense at all, so it’s hard to relate to where he’s coming from. Worse, there never stops being creepy undertones of male sexual power and female weakness. All of Caleb and Libby’s intimate encounters involve him forcing her a little, or getting too rough for a while before deciding to try to be gentle. It’s kind of squicky, and I found it totally unsexy. This book was first published in 1989, and from my perspective in the far distant future of the 21st century, it really does seem like a long ago, primitive era—and not one I’d care to revisit.
193. A Well-Timed Enchantment, Vivian Vande Velde — Like William Sleator, Vande Velde is one of the writers I read compulsively when I was about 12 or 13, even though I was often surprised at the rather dramatic shifts in quality from work to work. This novel is not one of Vande Velde’s worst, though neither is it one of her best. It is, however, one I’ve read before—something I realized only halfway through, which suggests that this is also one of her more forgettable books. Yeah: there’s really not all that much of note here. While on vacation in the French countryside, Deanna accidentally drops her Mickey Mouse watch into a magic wall, potentially causing a paradox that she must go back in time and correct before the future is altered. With the help of some rather gay elves, she finds herself back in medieval France. Unfortunately, as Vande Velde writes it, the past is as Disney as the watch. Way too much of the narrative is spent on Deanna fumbling around this plasticy version of a castle filled with plasticy lords and ladies (and even a plasticy wizard). The only really interesting part of the book involves Deanna’s cat Oliver, whom the elves turn into a boy and send back in time to help her. I liked Oliver’s mix of humanness and catness (he’s amusingly literal—like Anya, in a way!) but his and Deanna’s relationship is glossed over until the very end, which puts a dampener on what’s by far the most original part of the novel. So, judging by my poor memory, this book didn’t impress me much when I was 12, and it doesn’t impress me much now either.
194. Elantris, Brandon Sanderson — Epic high fantasy that contains some interesting ideas and compelling characters, but suffers from being way, way too long. I like political maneuverings and rebuilding societies and all that good stuff, but do I need to read pages and pages describing every detail of endless conversations in which the characters lay out their plans and argue before arguing and laying out their plans some more? No, I do not. Maybe high fantasy is just not my thing, but I can say with confidence that a lot of fantasy novels, this one included, could do with being a lot less epic.
195. Clockwork, Philip Pullman — A spooky and mysterious children’s offering from Pullman. I’m not sure it really comes together very well at the end, but the journey is interesting, anyway.
196. Naked Picture of Famous People, Jon Stewart — Finally found a cheap copy of this to call my own, so I reread it in celebration. From what I’ve seen, a lot of people don’t click with this the same way they do with Stewart’s more recent Daily Show work, but there’s something about these comic essays that I find darkly satisfying. My favorite by far is “The New Judaism.” Haha, oh dear. It’s funny ‘cause it’s true.
197. I Was Told There’d Be Cake, Sloane Crosley — Exhibit A in the case for why every single vaguely snarky person who gets good laughs when telling stories at parties should not be encouraged to publish a memoir/collection of personal essays. Don’t get me wrong: Crosley is a perfectly decent writer, but her experiences are just so everyday that reading this collection, I found myself puzzled as to why I was encountering it in book form as opposed to on someone’s LJ or something. So she had a bad boss! She went to camp! She has a funny name! She had an unpleasant moving experience one time! So what? If Crosley were able to draw some particular insight from these experiences, that would be one thing, but she doesn’t. Nor is she uniquely, fall-off-the-couch funny—just sort of quietly amusing. And so the impression I’m left with is that I, or any number of my friends, could write this exact same book—and maybe do it better. Crosley was just smart or savvy or well-connected enough to land a publishing deal. Which, you know, props to her. But does it make her the second coming of David Sedaris, as a bunch of reviewers seem to think? No, it does not.
198. The Silver Metal Lover, Tanith Lee — Since I used to go by the name “Tanith” on the interwebs, I guess it’s good I finally read a Tanith Lee book. (As nice as it was to get complimented a couple of times on emulating Lee’s style in pieces of my writing, as far as I was concerned I was referencing an obscure Star Wars thing. Oh well, it’s geeky either way.) This was pretty cool. Jane, the protagonist and narrator, bugged me at first, but that made her development as a character even more compelling—Lee does a good job showing her change and grow as a person. I liked Silver’s development as well, and I liked them as a couple. I found the twist the narrative takes at the end kind of bizarre—robots and reincarnation? Really?—but overall I enjoyed this book very much, especially the middle sections when it’s just Jane, Silver, and the music they make.
199. Iron Man: Extremis, Warren Ellis — Having read a bunch of issues that deal with the aftereffects of the Extremis virus, I was excited to see how it all came about—especially because this arc was written by Warren Ellis, who has a reputation for being “OMG! Warren Ellis!” However, I was disappointed. This is pretty ho-hum and pedestrian—not nearly as exciting or interesting as I assumed it would be. I was under the impression that Tony was unwilling injected with the virus, but nope: he’s all, “Yeah, better dose me up with that shit so I can defeat the Big Bad.” Perhaps that’s more badass, but to me it’s also less compelling. Maybe this is a case of my expectations just being to high, but then I remember that Ellis’ run on Hellblazer didn’t exactly rock my world either.
200. The Uncommon Reader, Alan Bennett — Kind of adorably awesome RPF in which the Queen discovers reading, and thus discovers herself. This is a delightful little cupcake of a book. I guess I can see how some people could find it twee, but I think Bennett make the humor just sharp enough to keep things sweet but not saccharine. And I can’t help be enchanted by the idea that books and reading really might be this transformative.
Total Reviews: 200/235
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 12:09 am (UTC)An accident knocks 23rd century pilot Caleb Hornblower (yes, really. Am I missing some sort of winking reference to C.S. Forester or something?) back to the 20th century, where he crash-lands near a cabin belonging to Liberty Stone (yes, really). And once that happens, proximity—both physical and temporal—seems to be enough to make Libby and Caleb fall in love. There’s really nothing about their personalities or interactions that would make one think that they are right for each other, but nevertheless, fall in love they do. And that’s basically the entire plot.
Totally agreed on the kinda-icky power issues-- seriously, being alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with a total stranger who tackles you onto the bed and holds you down is not mmmm sexy to me.
I actually picked this one up in a double-size book-- there's a sequel, where Caleb's jackass brother comes back in time to look for him and falls in love with Libby's sister Sunny. His basic attitude is "only a moron would choose to stay in the past just for a *chick*," which (since Sunny hasn't been told that Caleb is from the future) basically comes across as "Hi, I didn't bother to come to the wedding or, you know, contact my brother in any way in the past year or so. But I'm here now to talk sense into him, since clearly only an idiot would marry your stupid sister."
Sunny finds this unaccountably sexy. ^_^ Well, eventually she does.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 12:16 am (UTC)Jane Yolen is the same--but it seems more like a steady degradation of quality, so it makes more sense.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 02:14 am (UTC)One of us should write a romance novel where the heroine spends much of the book slapping the hero around—and boy, does he like it!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 02:35 am (UTC)Hah! Now, see, *that's* one of the things you could do with a time-travel romance. A lady Navy Seal who falls through a time vortex and lands in Regency Times!
Lady Navy Seal: "In the interests of getting through this conversation before we both die of old age, every time you ogle my legs so hard you lose your words, I'm going to punch you in the arm. Really hard."
Regency Dude: "Um, if you don't want someone to look at your whorishly displayed limbs, maybe your male guardian shouldn't have let you leave the house in mannish attire!"
Lady Navy Seal: .... *punch punch punch*
Regency Dude: *loses his words again*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 02:42 am (UTC)All I want for Christmas is this romance novel.
Much love,
--Trin
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 02:32 pm (UTC)Very very true. To date I've read ONE fantasy author who I wish would flesh things out more (Patricia McKillip, although her conciseness is part of what makes her amazing) and a very large number for which the opposite is true. Even very good writers: Tad Williams, for example. The only hugely long fantasy writer who I don't grudge reading one word of is Steven Erikson.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 04:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 11:45 pm (UTC)though he is currently writing a webcomic called 'Freakangels' about post-apocalyptic London that appears interesting.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-28 11:10 am (UTC)Tanith Lee!! I love Tanith Lee! Though, yeah, she has a tendency to write characters that are a little difficult to get behind. Her style has a way of just taking over my head. My favorite story of hers is "Don't Bite the Sun." She has some really weird stuff, but she really builds a world while she's at it.
Have you read any R. A. McAvoy?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-29 07:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-29 07:39 pm (UTC)Post-apocalyptic London is always tempting. Hmm...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-03 09:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-05 11:58 am (UTC)