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Feel free to share this around. Let's make it a Thing.
Feel free to share this around. Let's make it a Thing.
Thanks for the heads up, Carl
31 March 2018 02:34 pmA quote from Carl Sagan's The Demon-Haunted World (1995). Now if only we can reverse the trend...
...is all the women's marches, not just in the U.S. but around the world. Amsterdam, Oslo, Helsinki, Bogota, Nairobi, Madrid, Marseilles, London. Truly heartwarming to see so many people (both men and women!) in some many places, speaking out against the stated policies of the current administration.
Also: THANK YOU so much to my lovely flisties who gifted me with virtual prezzies and LJ account extensions! You are lovely and I smooch you all :)
Also also: We saw Rogue One today and LOVED it. More on that tomorrow...
Also: THANK YOU so much to my lovely flisties who gifted me with virtual prezzies and LJ account extensions! You are lovely and I smooch you all :)
Also also: We saw Rogue One today and LOVED it. More on that tomorrow...
Usually when I read the New York Times Book Review on Sundays there are at least two titles, often more, that I am inspired to add to my to-read list. Today I went through the entire section and did not add any. It seems like this should mean something but I'm not sure what.
Courtesy of a colleague on GoodReads, however, I also read a superb essay by Anthony Burgess, author of A Clockwork Orange, written for The New Yorker. Burgess begins by talking about A Clockwork Orange but expands into a discussion of the role of the state, free will, the nature of good and evil, and all sort of other remarkably timely and pertinent topics (especially considering it was originally written in 1972!). An essay to savor. This was one of my favorite bits:
Courtesy of a colleague on GoodReads, however, I also read a superb essay by Anthony Burgess, author of A Clockwork Orange, written for The New Yorker. Burgess begins by talking about A Clockwork Orange but expands into a discussion of the role of the state, free will, the nature of good and evil, and all sort of other remarkably timely and pertinent topics (especially considering it was originally written in 1972!). An essay to savor. This was one of my favorite bits:
...We probably have no duty to like Beethoven or hate Coca-Cola, but it is at least conceivable that we have a duty to distrust the state...In small social entities—English parishes, Swiss cantons—the machine that governs can sometimes be identified with the community that is governed. But when the social entity grows large, becomes a megalopolis, a state, a federation, the governing machine becomes remote, impersonal, even inhuman. It takes money from us for purposes we do not seem to sanction; it treats us as abstract statistics; it controls an army; it supports a police force whose function does not always appear to be protective...[I]n our own century, the state has been responsible for most of our nightmares. No single individual or free association of individuals could have achieved the repressive techniques of Nazi Germany, the slaughter of intensive bombing, or the atomic bomb. War departments can think in terms of megadeaths, while it is as much as the average man can do to entertain dreams of killing the boss. The modern state, whether in a totalitarian or a democratic country, has far too much power, and we are probably right to fear it...
How tweet it is
24 July 2016 10:15 pmTweeted during Trump's speech accepting the nomination. First I laughed, then I got depressed.
(N.B.: It was actually Kennedy who used the "city on a hill" quote, taking it from the writings of early Massachusetts Bay Colonist John Winthrop, 1630. Reagan's slogan was "Morning in America." Nevertheless, damn funny.)
More good tweets ===>
(N.B.: It was actually Kennedy who used the "city on a hill" quote, taking it from the writings of early Massachusetts Bay Colonist John Winthrop, 1630. Reagan's slogan was "Morning in America." Nevertheless, damn funny.)
More good tweets ===>
Thinky quotes
20 November 2013 08:47 pmA couple of weeks ago, on my mom's recommendation, I read Dave Eggers' The Circle. Like Orwell's 1984 or Huxley's Brave New World, it's more of a fable than a novel, social criticism rather than great characterization and plotting, but rather chilling in that this awful world is yet so very close to where we already are, and very likely where we're headed absent some sort of epiphany in our love affair with technology. In a sense he is preaching to the choir (the choir, in this case, being those who worry about the ubiquity of social media and Big Server rather than Big Brother), but it was engrossing. The ending was surprising; I think his message is that no big deus ex machina is going to rescue us from the constant stream of friending-tweeting-liking-pinning-statusupdating-rating-networking-linking-sharing-sharing-sharing-MUSTSHAREALLTHETHINGS!!! We have to rescue ourselves. I sympathized very much with Mae's friend who makes lamps out of antlers and just wants to be left alone.
Then today I ran across this rather apt quote from Neil Postman (written in 1985!!):
I fear very much that we're a good way down into Huxley's world: "a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy." (Honey Boo Boo or Ashley Madison, anyone?) The problem is that if 99% of the world is living in Huxley's version of the future, it's incredibly easy for a very few people to operate it like Orwell's version without anyone noticing. When everything is digital, it's easier than ever to edit the past. Or the present.
Then today I ran across this rather apt quote from Neil Postman (written in 1985!!):
What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy. As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny "failed to take into account man's almost infinite appetite for distractions." In 1984, Orwell added, people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure. In short, Orwell feared that what we fear will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we desire will ruin us.
― Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business
I fear very much that we're a good way down into Huxley's world: "a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy." (Honey Boo Boo or Ashley Madison, anyone?) The problem is that if 99% of the world is living in Huxley's version of the future, it's incredibly easy for a very few people to operate it like Orwell's version without anyone noticing. When everything is digital, it's easier than ever to edit the past. Or the present.
Post-vacation catch-up (I)
22 July 2013 11:27 pmTomorrow there will be pictures of lobsters and sailboats and osprey and swing bridges. Today, the first step in post-vacation catch-up: reviews of the books I read while away.
You wouldn't think that anyone could make four-hundred-plus pages of trudging through dust and heat intriguing. And yet somehow Lessing does it. The very end was a bit of an anti-climax, and I didn't really find it credible that Certain People (who shall remain nameless to prevent spoilage) could successfully track Mara and Dann across an entire continent that's decaying into anarchy and chaos. But if you can look past those two points, it's an interesting take on a distant-future slow-motion environmental collapse.
This is a funny, occasionally warm, sometimes biting, and in places rather horrifying satire on gender. In the world of Egalia's Daughters absolutely everything gender-related (except the actual act of giving birth) is reversed: females are in charge of the government, hold most of the important jobs, and make all the decisions for the family, while males stay home, curl their beards, gossip and raise the children. The reversal extends even to language itself: females are wom (sing.) and wim (pl.) while males are manwom (sing.) and menwim (pl.) -- since it was translated from the Norwegian, major kudos go to the translator for successfully retaining such nuances. Written in the late 1970s during the height of the feminist movement, its historical context is reflected in the story in the form of agitation for equal rights for menwim(!). While I expected story elements like menwim being "homemakers" and wim running the country, the story incorporates the entire spectrum of gender-related experiences, including rape and domestic abuse; in some cases it was downright startling to realize how, even today, society is less appalled by certain behaviors from men than they would be from women. The preceding 200+ pages do such a good job that the last chapter, which consists of the opening paragraphs of a novel the main character is writing about a fantasy world where men are in charge, actually seems weird. Definitely worth a read.
An energetic blending of the sword and sorcery of Michael Moorcock, the mysterious jungle cities of H. Rider Haggard, and the lonely -- possibly mad -- knight-errantry of Don Quixote, with a smattering of H.P. Lovecraft. Solomon Kane is an incarnation of the Eternal Hero; he doesn't remember where he came from, but he has occasional fleeting memories of a far-distant past in which he -- or some earlier incarnation of himself -- battled the Old Gods of fear and darkness as proto-humanity tried to free itself from their bloody grip. And like The Gunslinger (Stephen King's high opinion of Howard is quoted on the front cover), Solomon Kane doesn't know where he's going, only that he is bound to protect the innocent, battle evil, and go forward towards an unknown destiny. (There is, alas, a discomforting racist element to the stories set in Africa; one paragraph in particular is a paean to the Aryan race's strength, intelligence, military abilities, etc. Like Haggard, he was a product of his times, I guess.) That aside, these are tremendously fun adventure tales in the classic Indiana Jones or Allan Quatermaine style, with a dusting of morals/metaphysics. Evil is always defeated, the damsel is always rescued, and the good guy always wins. (Admittedly, sometimes the good guy is the only one who survives, but hey, he is the hero, right?)
I re-read this on vacation last week. I'd forgotten what fun it is :) Milady the thoroughly evil, a sort of 17th-century Black Widow; d'Artagnan so chivalrously romantic, falling in love at first sight; Porthos the lovably pompous goofball, gambling away his horse and inveigling a replacement from his wealthy little old lady; Athos, very obviously A Man With A Secret; Aramis so endearingly bipolar ("I'm going to be a priest...no, she loves me!...no, I'm going to be a priest..."). And oh, the melodrama, the desperate races against time to foil yet another plot, the swordfights and duels and feathered hats! What more could one ask?
Best rat-and-mouse story ever, bar none. I so much wish there was a sequel -- I want to know how they're doing in that valley. (And I don't care what anyone says, Justin isn't dead!)
You wouldn't think that anyone could make four-hundred-plus pages of trudging through dust and heat intriguing. And yet somehow Lessing does it. The very end was a bit of an anti-climax, and I didn't really find it credible that Certain People (who shall remain nameless to prevent spoilage) could successfully track Mara and Dann across an entire continent that's decaying into anarchy and chaos. But if you can look past those two points, it's an interesting take on a distant-future slow-motion environmental collapse.This is a funny, occasionally warm, sometimes biting, and in places rather horrifying satire on gender. In the world of Egalia's Daughters absolutely everything gender-related (except the actual act of giving birth) is reversed: females are in charge of the government, hold most of the important jobs, and make all the decisions for the family, while males stay home, curl their beards, gossip and raise the children. The reversal extends even to language itself: females are wom (sing.) and wim (pl.) while males are manwom (sing.) and menwim (pl.) -- since it was translated from the Norwegian, major kudos go to the translator for successfully retaining such nuances. Written in the late 1970s during the height of the feminist movement, its historical context is reflected in the story in the form of agitation for equal rights for menwim(!). While I expected story elements like menwim being "homemakers" and wim running the country, the story incorporates the entire spectrum of gender-related experiences, including rape and domestic abuse; in some cases it was downright startling to realize how, even today, society is less appalled by certain behaviors from men than they would be from women. The preceding 200+ pages do such a good job that the last chapter, which consists of the opening paragraphs of a novel the main character is writing about a fantasy world where men are in charge, actually seems weird. Definitely worth a read. An energetic blending of the sword and sorcery of Michael Moorcock, the mysterious jungle cities of H. Rider Haggard, and the lonely -- possibly mad -- knight-errantry of Don Quixote, with a smattering of H.P. Lovecraft. Solomon Kane is an incarnation of the Eternal Hero; he doesn't remember where he came from, but he has occasional fleeting memories of a far-distant past in which he -- or some earlier incarnation of himself -- battled the Old Gods of fear and darkness as proto-humanity tried to free itself from their bloody grip. And like The Gunslinger (Stephen King's high opinion of Howard is quoted on the front cover), Solomon Kane doesn't know where he's going, only that he is bound to protect the innocent, battle evil, and go forward towards an unknown destiny. (There is, alas, a discomforting racist element to the stories set in Africa; one paragraph in particular is a paean to the Aryan race's strength, intelligence, military abilities, etc. Like Haggard, he was a product of his times, I guess.) That aside, these are tremendously fun adventure tales in the classic Indiana Jones or Allan Quatermaine style, with a dusting of morals/metaphysics. Evil is always defeated, the damsel is always rescued, and the good guy always wins. (Admittedly, sometimes the good guy is the only one who survives, but hey, he is the hero, right?)I re-read this on vacation last week. I'd forgotten what fun it is :) Milady the thoroughly evil, a sort of 17th-century Black Widow; d'Artagnan so chivalrously romantic, falling in love at first sight; Porthos the lovably pompous goofball, gambling away his horse and inveigling a replacement from his wealthy little old lady; Athos, very obviously A Man With A Secret; Aramis so endearingly bipolar ("I'm going to be a priest...no, she loves me!...no, I'm going to be a priest..."). And oh, the melodrama, the desperate races against time to foil yet another plot, the swordfights and duels and feathered hats! What more could one ask?Best rat-and-mouse story ever, bar none. I so much wish there was a sequel -- I want to know how they're doing in that valley. (And I don't care what anyone says, Justin isn't dead!)
Buffy + book reviews
27 May 2013 02:24 pmMr Psmith and started a revisit of Buffy the Vampire Slayer about a month ago; we began with Episode 1, Season 1 and have been working our way through it, relishing every minute of it, and finally finished last night. I'd forgotten what emotional powerhouses the last few episodes are, just one thing after another: Xander's speech to the Potentials about Buffy, Faith's return and what it triggers, Willow's activation of all the Potentials, and -- of course -- Spike . I cried like a baby for half of the last episode and was totally wrung out by the time we got to the end.
We talked for a while afterwards about what exactly it is that makes Buffy so great: the writing with its clever use of language, the great storytelling, the three-dimensional characters? We determined it's all of the above, but two things in particular stand out. First, there's the constant reassuring sense that Joss knows where he's going with it, where he's taking you. He's never just killing time or floundering about. Almost every episode adds something to the overall structure of the tale: expanded understanding of a character, character growth, fleshing out the Slayer mythos/backstory, propelling the story arc forward (even the musical episode wasn't just a gimmick, it actually advance the plot in important ways), etc. Second, there's the way that so much of the time he's exploring aspects of what it means to be human: guilt, free will, family, love, faith, what it means to be/feel different, what it means to have/not have a soul, can evil be redeemed. Not every episode is all deep and philosophical, but even the funny ones often deal with larger questions. That gives the show overall a substance and a depth that others like Charmed and Supernatural can't quite match.
In other news, I'd gotten sadly behind on my book reviews on goodreads, so I took advantage of having today off (Memorial Day for us Yanks) to get caught up. Rather than posting all of them here, I'll just give a snippet and link through for anyone who's interested. It's quite an assortment: one non-fiction, two Stephen Kings, a psychological thriller, and a kids' fantasy. My reading tastes are a bit eclectic, as you can see :)
For me, Hogwarts will always hold the crown for Best Sentient Castle, but I did enjoy my visit to Castle Glower. The title is a bit misleading, since the castle doesn't in fact only change on Tuesdays but rather whenever it feels like it, or whenever it's necessary, but that's a minor point... more
It's tough to decide which story here is the more engrossing in The Spark: Jake the math and physics savant whose mind was nearly lost to autism, or Kristine Barnett the mother and teacher who argues (convincingly) for connecting with children through their passions... more
I picked up Alys, Always off the "New Fiction" shelf at the library; I had never heard of it, it had no jacket so no summary or blurb, but I read the first paragraph and was hooked. I recommend this as the best way to approach this book: knowing absolutely nothing about it... more
Under the Dome is the sort of book that makes you suspect Stephen King has a very low opinion of homo sapiens: a small town is abruptly and inexplicably cut off from the outside world, which causes mundanely bad people to become Very Bad People Indeed... more
11/22/63 is King's take on the classic change-the-past-to-improve-the-future trope (I think Hitler and JFK are probably tied for favorite characters to kill/not kill in this scenario). To power the tension, King employs a variation of the Novikov self-consistency principle in which history actively resists being altered... more
We talked for a while afterwards about what exactly it is that makes Buffy so great: the writing with its clever use of language, the great storytelling, the three-dimensional characters? We determined it's all of the above, but two things in particular stand out. First, there's the constant reassuring sense that Joss knows where he's going with it, where he's taking you. He's never just killing time or floundering about. Almost every episode adds something to the overall structure of the tale: expanded understanding of a character, character growth, fleshing out the Slayer mythos/backstory, propelling the story arc forward (even the musical episode wasn't just a gimmick, it actually advance the plot in important ways), etc. Second, there's the way that so much of the time he's exploring aspects of what it means to be human: guilt, free will, family, love, faith, what it means to be/feel different, what it means to have/not have a soul, can evil be redeemed. Not every episode is all deep and philosophical, but even the funny ones often deal with larger questions. That gives the show overall a substance and a depth that others like Charmed and Supernatural can't quite match.
In other news, I'd gotten sadly behind on my book reviews on goodreads, so I took advantage of having today off (Memorial Day for us Yanks) to get caught up. Rather than posting all of them here, I'll just give a snippet and link through for anyone who's interested. It's quite an assortment: one non-fiction, two Stephen Kings, a psychological thriller, and a kids' fantasy. My reading tastes are a bit eclectic, as you can see :)
For me, Hogwarts will always hold the crown for Best Sentient Castle, but I did enjoy my visit to Castle Glower. The title is a bit misleading, since the castle doesn't in fact only change on Tuesdays but rather whenever it feels like it, or whenever it's necessary, but that's a minor point... more It's tough to decide which story here is the more engrossing in The Spark: Jake the math and physics savant whose mind was nearly lost to autism, or Kristine Barnett the mother and teacher who argues (convincingly) for connecting with children through their passions... more I picked up Alys, Always off the "New Fiction" shelf at the library; I had never heard of it, it had no jacket so no summary or blurb, but I read the first paragraph and was hooked. I recommend this as the best way to approach this book: knowing absolutely nothing about it... more Under the Dome is the sort of book that makes you suspect Stephen King has a very low opinion of homo sapiens: a small town is abruptly and inexplicably cut off from the outside world, which causes mundanely bad people to become Very Bad People Indeed... more 11/22/63 is King's take on the classic change-the-past-to-improve-the-future trope (I think Hitler and JFK are probably tied for favorite characters to kill/not kill in this scenario). To power the tension, King employs a variation of the Novikov self-consistency principle in which history actively resists being altered... more
I so much wanted to love Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, with its odd photographs and mysterious grandfather and menacing hollow creatures and, well, peculiar children, but I couldn't, not quite. I enjoyed it, but I didn't love it. The use of photographs was clever, the idea of living inside a time loop intriguing if a bit fuzzy in its logic, but I had two biggish problems with the book as a whole.The first is a lack of good pacing/tightness. Ideally a book hooks you immediately, the tension gradually ratchets up as you go on, until you have a nice big finale. In this case, most of the gripping stuff came at the beginning; although the rest has some good bits it struck me as somewhat meandering and unfocused. The second was that the main character, rather than maturing through the course of the book, seems instead to become more childish (perhaps it's a side effect of hanging out with beings that have been children for 80+ years?). I can't recall when/if his age is given, but based on how he's presented at the beginning I would have guessed him to be 17 or 18; by the end he comes across more like a 13 or 14-year-old.
Then there's the fact that it's obviously a setup for a sequel, which I didn't know ahead of time and which was therefore irritating. (Does no one write good standalone novels any more??) So all in all, I give it a resounding "Meh."
Lives up to the title, "Year's Best." The best collection of short-form SF I've read in quite a while. All the stories are top-notch, with a wide mix of voices, settings, topics, length, styles and approaches. There are tales of post-apocalypse, space adventure and genetic modification; there are children and old men and guitar-playing dinosaurs and even a sort of steam-punk female Napoleon.The only disappointment was the last one, a modern riff on the Benandanti -- I'm a fan of updated/retold folklore and fairy tales and I don't mind unreliable narrators or meta-fiction so I was intrigued at first, but in the end this comes across as too self-conscious an exercise in cleverness by both the narrator and the author.
Now, what to read next?? I can't decide if I want to re-read The Stand (about which Mr Psmith and I had a rousing debate last night, regarding the absence of a religious element among the bad guys) or tackle 11/22/63. I also have to finish Swansea Girl. Lots to do!
(N.B. The fact that I am STILL getting ZERO notifications from LJ, and my ISP apparently can't be bothered to look into it or even respond, is SERIOUSLY vexing me...)
I finally had a chance to sit down and dig into Clockwork Angels, which I got for Christmas and which I'd been eagerly anticipating. I'm a huge fan of Rush and have been since high school; largely thanks to Neil Peart, who's incredibly widely-read, many of their songs and albums are strongly story-oriented (think Fountain of Lamneth, or Red Barchetta, or all of 2112), so a collaborative book/album project sounded intriguing. In the end I enjoyed this book very much as far as it went, but was left wanting a lot more. The steampunk-y world-building had many lovely little details: the Clockwork Angels of the title, the invented names of alchemical stones and minerals, the news office of Barrel Arbor and its announcement of the daily predictions, the personal letters the Watchmaker sends to every citizen on important occasions, the brief glimpses of other people and continents beyond the kingdom of the Watchmaker, and lots more. Taken as a whole, though, the story reads like a parable because in the end that's all we're given: little details and glimpses. The characters -- except for Owen Hardy -- are ultimately one-dimensional, and even the Watchmaker and the Anarchist are in the end nothing but symbols of the two extremes between which Owen Hardy is pulled, the Watchmaker's total predictability and the Anarchist's total unpredictability.
I was happy for Owen that he eventually found a happy medium, but I wish he'd spent a lot longer exploring. I had a nagging sense that I was missing out on lots of exciting things just out of sight; I felt like I was constantly craning my neck out the back window or trying to sneak off down alleyways to see things for myself and getting brought up short.
My reactions to Silverberg are somewhat uneven. I absolutely love the creepy yet alluring The Book of Skulls and the dystopian The World Inside but have never been able to get into, let alone finish, any of his Majipoor series which he seems to be so well known for. This one left me ambivalent. I think sometimes he tries a little too hard with his social messages -- in this case, I suppose, the value of love (published in 1971, surprise, surprise).
The main character, Kinnall Darival, is a member of the upper classes on a world settled several thousand years ago by religious fundamentalists (specific type not mentioned but one suspects a virulent strain of Puritans). The original settlers built into their world the Covenant, a socio-religious structure that requires people to keep their private joys and sorrows -- indeed all their emotions -- strictly private and bother no one else with them. This suppression of the self is so extreme that the words "I" and "me" have become obscenities and the greatest sin/crime is "self-baring."( more, including spoilers, behind the cut )
I give it a resounding "Meh."
Another catch-up post with bunches of books. I meant to do this last week but the past week has been, to put it mildly, a steaming pile of poo. "The devil farts in my face once again, Percy" about sums it up. I'm starting to feel semi-human again, so here we are. Following are some goodies I highly recommend.
Ugly War, Pretty Package = an in-depth analysis of how Fox News and CNN packaged, presented and sold the Iraq War as a "high-concept" film, complete with heroes, a soundtrack, special effects, and a catchy narrative. It's amazing, fascinating, and very creepy. The creepiest part is that -- Fox's loud protestations notwithstanding -- the two networks basically sold the exact same narrative, slavishly following the government's and military's "party line." Read it; you'll never watch television news the same way again.
It Can't Happen Here = dystopian America in which a populist loudmouth (who sounds frighteningly like Sarah Palin) is elected and sends the US into a spiral of totalitarian terror and oppression. Although written in 1935, it's almost eerily prescient in its portrayal of a media-created candidate, and Berzelius Windrip and his second-in-command Lee Sarason (who runs everything behind the scenes) are scarily like Dubya and Cheney. I could easily picture Cheney engineering a coup.
Wolf Hall = Henry VIII's divorce from Katherine and marriage/beheading of Anne Boleyn, told from the perspective of Thomas Cromwell. Booker Prize winner. Interesting -- written in the present tense, which took some getting used to, and in a style less narrative than poetic. Interesting to see a sympathetic portrayal of Cromwell, as a talented bureaucrat who just wants the country to run smoothly, and a very unsympathetic portrayal of Thomas More as an unbending fanatic willing to torture those who don't see God his way.
That about gets us up to speed. Oh no, one more -- Volume 2 of Neil Gaiman's Sandman tales, The Doll's House. VERY cool indeed. Love the spectacle of Morpheus having to track down and kill or recapture escaped nightmares, the idea that Desire and Despair are twins, and the story of Hob Gadling which poses the theory that Dream could be lonely and want a friend. The Cereal Convention was brilliantly creepy, and Morpheus' older sister Death makes an appearance. So far no glimpse of the Library of Dreams, though. Still waiting for that.
So. There it is, then.
Ugly War, Pretty Package = an in-depth analysis of how Fox News and CNN packaged, presented and sold the Iraq War as a "high-concept" film, complete with heroes, a soundtrack, special effects, and a catchy narrative. It's amazing, fascinating, and very creepy. The creepiest part is that -- Fox's loud protestations notwithstanding -- the two networks basically sold the exact same narrative, slavishly following the government's and military's "party line." Read it; you'll never watch television news the same way again.
It Can't Happen Here = dystopian America in which a populist loudmouth (who sounds frighteningly like Sarah Palin) is elected and sends the US into a spiral of totalitarian terror and oppression. Although written in 1935, it's almost eerily prescient in its portrayal of a media-created candidate, and Berzelius Windrip and his second-in-command Lee Sarason (who runs everything behind the scenes) are scarily like Dubya and Cheney. I could easily picture Cheney engineering a coup.
Wolf Hall = Henry VIII's divorce from Katherine and marriage/beheading of Anne Boleyn, told from the perspective of Thomas Cromwell. Booker Prize winner. Interesting -- written in the present tense, which took some getting used to, and in a style less narrative than poetic. Interesting to see a sympathetic portrayal of Cromwell, as a talented bureaucrat who just wants the country to run smoothly, and a very unsympathetic portrayal of Thomas More as an unbending fanatic willing to torture those who don't see God his way.
That about gets us up to speed. Oh no, one more -- Volume 2 of Neil Gaiman's Sandman tales, The Doll's House. VERY cool indeed. Love the spectacle of Morpheus having to track down and kill or recapture escaped nightmares, the idea that Desire and Despair are twins, and the story of Hob Gadling which poses the theory that Dream could be lonely and want a friend. The Cereal Convention was brilliantly creepy, and Morpheus' older sister Death makes an appearance. So far no glimpse of the Library of Dreams, though. Still waiting for that.
So. There it is, then.
Did I buy more books? You betcha!!
1 July 2009 07:01 pmSo last week I took Friday off (trying desperately to use up all my vacation before it vanishes, courtesy of the Evil HR Dept). We drove over to Ithaca, checked out the Falls, had lunch at Moosewood (salmon chowder, nom nom nom), and stopped at The Phoenix used book barn on the way back. I love shopping at used bookstores, especially ones that are a) so huge they have no idea what they have, e.g. The Strand in NYC or b) so off the beaten path that they don't feel compelled to keep on hand ten copies of "A is for Alibi" and three of everything Jodi Picoult ever wrote. The Phoenix, happily, is both. (It's so off the beaten path it doesn't even have a website, and so huge that I got lost in it. Twice.)
So. Among other gems, I found a book by a long-time favorite author that I didn't know existed, a book on the Midrash (which I've been curious about since I read The Red Tent last week) and an FSF short story collection by an author I never heard of but which turned out to be tremendous: Speaking in Tongues, by Ian McDonald. Unusual, powerful, intriguing, and every story very different from the others. Among them was one with the odd title "Floating Dogs," which is possibly the most heart-wrenching -- and damning -- post-apocalypse story I've ever read. Well OK, it's a tie with "People of Sand and Slag" from this anthology. If you can read these two stories and not get at least a little choked up, I don't wanna know you.
Still plodding through the run-up to World War II with Churchill & Co., but have to take these little breaks every so often to recover from the repeated idiocies (how could Chamberlain have thought giving Czechoslovakia to Hitler was a good idea? How???)
So. Among other gems, I found a book by a long-time favorite author that I didn't know existed, a book on the Midrash (which I've been curious about since I read The Red Tent last week) and an FSF short story collection by an author I never heard of but which turned out to be tremendous: Speaking in Tongues, by Ian McDonald. Unusual, powerful, intriguing, and every story very different from the others. Among them was one with the odd title "Floating Dogs," which is possibly the most heart-wrenching -- and damning -- post-apocalypse story I've ever read. Well OK, it's a tie with "People of Sand and Slag" from this anthology. If you can read these two stories and not get at least a little choked up, I don't wanna know you.
Still plodding through the run-up to World War II with Churchill & Co., but have to take these little breaks every so often to recover from the repeated idiocies (how could Chamberlain have thought giving Czechoslovakia to Hitler was a good idea? How???)
::: The Declaration (Malley)
28 May 2009 06:01 pmAnother dystopia but this one lives up to its name :) YA, which means it was a quick read without a lot of subtlety and left me wanting longer, richer, deeper, just plain more, of course, but "a good effort" as Franz Joseph said to Mozart. Given the behavior of huge corporations, particularly those in the pharmaceutical industry, the power of the Longevity corporations was all too believable; their ideal world is full of happy little immortal (human) sheep and they do whatever it takes to ensure it stays that way, an eerily credible scenario. I can believe that they'd, um, "encourage" everyone to sign The Declaration. The ending was a mix of powerful (Anna's parents' attempt to save her and Ben) and fairy-dust-easy (no way the soldiers would just stand down). I wanted more about several of the characters, notably Miss Pincent and her loser husband and father (where did she learn how to do this mind-f**k on the kids??) but also Anna's parents, and the whole underground movement.
I also wish she'd explored some of the larger questions of what would happen if everyone was immortal. Would everyone be, or only the ones with the money? How often do people do the "A life for a life" exchange? Is it considered noble or shameful? Who's raising the food? Nobody would want to be a farmer for eternity. If it's automatically produced then do people bother to go to work or do they just sit around playing bridge and comparing their latest face lifts? What about this black market in childrens' stem cells? Without the influx of new people, is there a slowdown in innovation, ideas, inventions, etc? What's the impact of that on society, science, etc? Is the whole world just some big stagnant pond? Like I said, I wanted more!
All things considered I give it two thumbs up. Not as good as Genesis but better than the Lessing book :)
I also wish she'd explored some of the larger questions of what would happen if everyone was immortal. Would everyone be, or only the ones with the money? How often do people do the "A life for a life" exchange? Is it considered noble or shameful? Who's raising the food? Nobody would want to be a farmer for eternity. If it's automatically produced then do people bother to go to work or do they just sit around playing bridge and comparing their latest face lifts? What about this black market in childrens' stem cells? Without the influx of new people, is there a slowdown in innovation, ideas, inventions, etc? What's the impact of that on society, science, etc? Is the whole world just some big stagnant pond? Like I said, I wanted more!
All things considered I give it two thumbs up. Not as good as Genesis but better than the Lessing book :)
