Saturday, December 10, 2011

Saturday Review, 12/10/2011

4 books this week:

Kevin Mitnick - Ghost in the Wire


Mitnick is a big deal in the computer hacking world. This is something of an autobiography, covering Mitnick's discovery of social controls (con artistry, more or less) and then computers and phone networks in California. In the mid-80s, Mitnick became a desired target of the FBI and such agencies, a situation which did not change into the '90s. Eventually he was arrested and became something of a cause celebre because of the way his rights to sentencing were rather severely bent, because of his scary (and largely false) persona as super-hacker (what Mitnick calls the Mitnick Myth). He is now a consultant, engaging in hacking for companies who want to test their own network security.

My overall reaction to the book is meh. Mitnick wanders through his personal narrative, often noting something to the effect of "while this was going on, this other thing happened," and breaking his narrative flow. Further, I found Mitnick's description of himself to be highly distasteful. Throughout, Mitnick engages in highly anti-social actions - breaking into networks to steal the code for cell phones; tweaking his own cell phone so that his calls were billed to someone else, tricking officials into giving him private information - and doesn't seem to fully get why these things got him in trouble. In his defense, he didn't use the data he stole, or even make money off of it in anyway, but if I break into your house and take pictures of your art collection, I have still engaged in an illegal action. Mitnick comes across as mildly sociopathic and, despite his protestation, doesn't seem to be particularly likable. Had the writing been more entertaining, the content wouldn't have mattered. Had the content been less disagreeable, the writing wouldn't have mattered. Combined, the whole was less than lovely.

Tom Perrotta - The Leftovers


The Rapture has occurred, or something that looks very much like the Rapture - lots and lots of people have disappeared. Only some of them are not the sort of people who the Rapture should affect - non-Christians, and open sinners, and all manner of people. The Sudden Disappearance, although central to the plot, is never explained - which is probably for the best, since that's not really the point of the book. As the title suggests, the book is about the people left behind, left with the painful task of picking up the pieces and figuring out what to do next.

Perrotta's characters do all manner of things next. Some of them join cults which are more or less destructive, depending on the cult, and on the joinee. Some of them throw away their lives on drugs and sex and general hedonism. Some of them become politicians. Some of them lose their faith, and some cheat on their spouses, and some of them remain faithful to something or someone. For the most part, life goes on - and, largely, I think that was Perrotta's point. Peoples is peoples (and frogs are frogs), rapture or no rapture.


So, that's somewhat hopeful, I suppose. Life goes on, and humanity adapts to all manner of oddness. Beyond that, though, the book was somewhat depressing, as you might expect. Billions of people just vanished, and the world has changed. Everyone in the book is damaged and grieving and not sure how to go on, all at once, all at the same time. It makes for very difficult reading at times. I can imagine that it would be extremely difficult reading if you've recently had a death in your close personal circle. Perrotta's writing is excellent, and that makes the book highly readable, even enjoyable in places, but the subject matter, ultimately, remains difficult to digest. Finally, the book just ends - on a hopeful note, with a baby who will probably reknit at least one small family - bang, right in the middle of things. Which is, more or less, where the book starts. This would be an interesting book to have a discussion about, and I imagine that lots of book groups will do that over the next year.

Peter Spiegelman - Thick as Thieves


Caper novel. A bunch of crooks set out to steal money from a money launderer. Things go awry, which is normal for this sort of book, but work themselves out, more or less, in the end. Which is also normal.

The book is a little deeper and twistier than the typical caper novel, asking questions about the nature of humanity, and about growing old, and about the danger of secrets, and the inevitability of betrayal. All around these deeper themes, Spiegelman tells a highly entertaining story about breaking into dark houses and stealing things. There's a lot of technical detail, and a few explosions. In the end, a delightful novel with some fantastic twists (although I had figured out one of the big twists before the end - which isn't necessarily a bad thing, as long as the it makes the reader feel smart rather than the author look stupid, if you follow me) and a highly satisfying ending. Good read, and a nice step down from the Perrotta - deep enough that it stands up against the literature, but not so deep that the two books back to back swamped me.

Tanya Huff - The Wild Ways


A further step away from Perrotta and Spiegelman, this is the sequel to Huff's Enchanted Emporium, both pleasantly interesting paranormal romance. Huff, of course, has been writing paranormal romance since before paranormal romance was a thing - the Blood series, with Victoria Nelson the ex-cop PI and Henry Fitzroy the ancient vampire (and Victoria's lover) present clear precedents for the sub-genre. Huff has had, and continues to have, highly positive effects upon the sub-genre.  In particular, Huff has gone out of her way to include characters of colour and characters with different sexual orientations, even (especially) when those features are not critical to the plot. In this book, the principle character is bisexual (well, ok, Charlotte Gale is more of an opportunistic forager when it comes to sex, but she clearly doesn't discriminate between genders), one of the important secondary characters is black (just because), another pair are gay (and deeply committed to each other). All great stuff.

A little background. The Gale family are not quite human. The women in the family are skilled at casting magic with "charms" - little patterns that cause things to go more smoothly - the car doesn't need repairing as often, the windows open more smoothly, people tend to like you a little more, etc etc - and they like to put these charms in baked goods, especially pies and pancakes. Pies and pancakes feature heavily in the books, almost a running gag. Perhaps exactly a running gag. As the women age, they become Aunties - matriarchs who control the family with carefully hidden iron fists. The Gale Aunties would give Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax a run for their money - or, at least, a fair fight. The men in the Gale family tend to turn into stags when frightened or excited. Especially when excited.

Sex in the Gale family is ... odd. Very open, and highly ritualized, and tightly tightly controlled for the good of the family. And it involves men who turn into stags when they get excited. Huff doesn't really discuss the logistics of that, particularly, but you can tuck it away for consideration, if you like. (That sort of implies that there's a lot of sex in these books, and that would be untrue - it happens, Huff sometimes describes it (not in particular detail), but it's not a central feature of the books.)

In this book, Charlotte (Charlie) Gale heads to Cape Breton to help out a friend with a Celtic rock band. (Did I mention that the books are set in Canada? They are - Canadianism runs deep in the books, which excites me a little - I've actually been to some of the places Huff describes! Whee!) While there, she gets mixed up with a bunch of selkies trying to save their habitat from an oil rig. This is all complicated by the fact that Charlie is a Wild Talent - she can do things that the average Gale girl cannot, like charm people with music, and walk between woods (allowing her to cross distances quickly by playing music to trees, more or less). Further, Charlie finds herself baby sitting one of her cousins - who is a dragon. (That's a bit of leftover plot from the first book, incidentally)

The good bits of the book - I love the Maritime Canada settings - brilliant. I love the whole magic through baking gag. I love the 14 year old dragon. I love Charlie. The characters are fantastic - the bad people are not one dimensional, and the secondary characters are almost as well described as the primaries (which makes sense, because Huff has a tendency to spin off secondary characters - easier to do that if they are well written in the first place).

The bits that I didn't like - the bad guys are an oil company. Huff (accurately) describes Cape Breton as a region of Canada desperate for employment, which the oil company would have provided. Clearly, the drilling would have disrupted the sensitive selkie habitat, and that's bad - but Huff's characters don't really offer any solid alternatives either. In an otherwise surprisingly deep book, this conflict is dealt with rather shallowly, and that bugged me a little. Also, Charlie's ability to walk through woods results in her bopping back and forth from Cape Breton to Calgary (where her familial support base is). A dangerous ability, which threated to derail the narrative in a couple of places. Huff manages to keep the whole thing moving forward, but I felt like telling Charlie to pick a locale and stay there, damn it.

In the end, a very satisfying read, and very quick - I started the book this morning, and finished it before dinner.

I Aten't Dead

And I will post a review. Maybe after dinner.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Tuesday Library Post, 6/12/2011

Two books this week.

Devon Monk - Dead Iron


I gather that Devon Monk is a rising star in the Urban Fantasy genre. This book isn't UF, though, it's steampunk and wild/weird west. And it's got a werewolf in it.

Neal Stephenson - Reamde


I like Stephenson. This is another of his bricks of a doorstop books. The plot revolves around a massively multiplayer roleplaying game, and some hackers who are trying to hold players' characters for ransom and, apparently this has real world repercussions and etc etc.

I like Stephenson, but I'm a little wary of this book, because too many writers really don't get MMOs; turning them into fantastic virtual realities, and having characters act within the game as they would outside of the game. Mr. Doctorow, Mr. Stross, I'm looking at you... The premises they spin, regarding virtual economies and etc, are neat - but not, yet, viable, and suggest that the authors haven't actually played an MMO. So, I don't know - I guess I hope Mr. Stephenson has done his research here.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Saturday Review, 12/3/2011

November, you know, is just a silly month. Part of this is entirely my own fault - the second test of the semester comes in November, and I need to grade it. And, actually, I hate grading tests (and often wonder why I even bother assigning them in the first place) so I put it off and put it off. It's not even that grading takes that long - I can generally turn papers around in about two days, if I sit down and do the work - it's just tiresome reading essentially the same responses over and over again, and the same basic errors of understanding (which suggests that I, the instructor, have made a fundamental error in the way that I have explained something, which never feels good), and wondering if that one really good response is plagiarism (and sometimes it is, but often it isn't)... Anyway, I hate grading, but I have a bunch of grading to do in November. Plus, I'm gearing up for the end of the semester, and wondering if I've left quite enough time to finish everything I've said I will finish in the syllabus (and I have, really). And then there's Thanksgiving in the middle of everything. And the weather can't decide if it's late fall or early winter, so we get these alternate gross wet days and absurdly bright and warm days, whipsawing through my immune system. November sucks. (And, of course, all the rest of the year, I post my posts exactly as I have scheduled them, and I never ever have to post a place holder. Ever. Riiiight.)

Bleh. I did finish three books this week, though. So.

Isabel Cooper - No Proper Lady


Same author as Hickey of the Beast (different name, but same author, I assure you.) This is a paranormal romance, with rather more emphasis on the romance than the paranormal. Joan lives in the future (2088, possibly), and it's a horrible future. Demons roam the earth, brutally oppressing humanity. Humans have two choices - become docile cattle and live under the demons, or live a miserable existence in tunnels, constantly fighting demons and their thralls. Humanity is losing. In order to fix things, Joan has, through magical means, traveled back in time to England, 1888. There, visions indicate, she will find the person who wrote the book which unleashed the demons which destroyed the world.

Simon Grenville lives in England, in 1888. A member of the landed gentry, Grenville is also a minor dabbler in the magical arts. He has returned to his country estate with his sister, Eleanor. Simon has recently rescued Eleanor from an unspeakable magical ritual being performed by Alex Reynell, formerly one of Simon's best friends, and his fellow dabbler in the magical arts. Reynell has decided that the black arts is the way to go, and, when Simon tries to prevent Reynell from pursuing that line of action, Reynell takes Eleanor and tries to have her possessed by a demon.

Reynell, incidentally, is the person that Joan has come back to deal with, which makes the whole thing very tidy.

The good stuff - Cooper has done better than average research for the genre, and creates a believable picture of Victorian England. She has also given considerable thought to the world that Joan comes from, even if we only see it in snippets. So, good solid world building. I honestly liked Joan, and Simon, and Eleanor, and cared about their eventual success. I particularly liked Eleanor standing up for herself and insisting that she be allowed to participate in the plan. I also liked that Joan initiated sex - none of the "it's not rape if you (eventually) enjoy it" trope here. There are some musings on the nature of power and what it means to be human - somewhat surprising for a romance novel.

The middling stuff - For all that it is well written, it's still a romance novel. It's somewhat predictable and a little formulaic - which is what you want, generally, from the genre. There's no real question about the ultimate success of the mission - although there are some interesting twists in the way that the success occurs. There is also no real question about the possibility that Joan and Simon will eventually have sex - of course they will. They dance around it a little - will this harm the mission? - but it's inevitable. Again, that's more or less what you expect when you pick up the book with the heart on the spine (at least that's how my library codes romance novels). So, yeah, it's there.

The less than good stuff - my god, Izzy, the cock! It's like that's Simon's favorite word. Surely there are other euphemisms that were current in 1888? And, also, Joan's genitalia is never directly mentioned - Simon "enters into her" (with his cock!) - through what? A conveniently placed door flap? I get that Simon, perhaps, might not have euphemisms for the female genitalia that he feels comfortable sharing with Joan, but Joan is from the future, and she's comfortable with her sexuality - what does she call her lady parts? For some reason, this really bugged me. I suppose it could have been worse - cock is nicely direct and to the point. Simon is not described as having a "tender hardness" or an "erect manhood" or any of the other tortured euphemisms that romance novelists employ. Still.

So - a delightful romp of a novel, with some surprising musings on deeper philosophical matters, and an abundance of cock.

Peter Van Buren - We Meant Well


Van Buren works in the State Department. He was assigned to Iraq in 2009. In fact, he states that, as of about 2007, all Foreign Service Operatives (FSOs) in the State Department were required to serve for a year in Iraq, helping to rebuild the country, if they expected to advance in their careers. This is, perhaps, not the best way to motivate people to do what is necessary to rebuild a nation.

Indeed, the whole premise of the work is that the entire mission of the State Department in Iraq was and is a largely unmitigated disaster. The goal of winning "hearts and minds," of making the Iraqis like us and want to be like us, has been rendered impossible due to the way in which the agents of the US military and the US State Dept. have gone about doing their jobs. Van Buren recounts the extensive efforts of military officers and State Department employees to mold Iraqis into the image of Americans. His opening vignette is about a collection of books that his predecessor ordered - great American classics of literature, translated into Arabic. The idea is that, by giving Iraqi schoolchildren access to great American literature, we can help them to become more like American school children (as if this were a desirable goal). The plan ignores several critical things:
 - The fact that Iraqis have access to great classics of Arabic literature (already IN Arabic!)
- School syllabi are built around the Iraqi literature, and shoehorning in a bunch of American books is impossible
- American school children are not the way they are because some teacher forced them to read A Scarlet Letter
- The problem in Iraq has far less to do with a lack of great American literature, and far more to do with a lack of adequate school buildings.

Throughout the book, the projects which Van Buren describes are more or less exactly like this. Some Colonel or embassy official decides that what Iraq needs is [X] - where X is some trapping of US capitalism. This totally ignores [Y], [Z], and [Q], where Y is the fact that Iraq had been managing without X for centuries, Z is the fact that the infrastructure which allows X to work in America has been completely destroyed and Q is the fact that due the fact that Z is entirely our fault, X is never going to be embraced by the Iraqis, because we are proposing it without addressing Z.

The whole book is written in a wry tone which allows the reader to laugh at the bumbling. This is vital, because if you cannot laugh at the story Van Buren is telling, you'll find yourself screaming - $86 Billion (with a B!) has been more or less dumped on Iraq. If the money had been piled up and burned, at least the resulting fire might have warmed some people up a little - instead, we've constructed roads that go nowhere (and then blocked the roads off because they allow terrorists to travel more easily through Iraq) and ignored the fact that the nation needs clean water, reliable electricity, and accessible doctors. Not to mention the fact that the $86 Billion could easily have been spent in the US, fixing roads which already exist, and which go to places. Or libraries, or schools, or any number of other things which are desperately needed in the US. Now I'm all pissed off again.

The book is written in a series of disjointed vignettes - not unlike a collection of blog posts. In his afterword, Van Buren thanks Michael Herr, author of Dispatches, a book about the Vietnam War. Herr's book is written in much the same fashion - a collection of journalistic dispatches from the war - and so Van Buren's construction makes more sense. It's still a little odd, and makes the book feel a little uncoordinated and jumpy.

If you are looking for a book that will make you feel a little (or a lot) pissed off about government waste, and which will make you chuckle ruefully at the same time, this is probably a good book for you.

 Ekaterina Sedia - Heart of Iron


It's somewhere in the middle of  the 1850s (Sedia does not specify), in Russia. But not our Russia - in this Russia, the Decemberist revolution was successful. (The Decemberists attempted to ensure that Constantine, and not his brother Nicholas, would ascend the throne in 1825. Constantine, Sedia suggests, was more moderate than Nicholas, and engaged in a policy of freeing the Russian serfs (which, in reality, did not happen until 1861) and a thorough modernization and mechanization of Russia (which didn't really happen until after WWI). This is a Russia fully engaged in the industrial revolution - a Russia with a Trans-Siberian Railroad in 1854 (in reality, not completed until the 1890s). In this Russia,  Alexandra (Sasha) Trubetskaya is given the chance to go to the University of St. Petersburg as part of an inaugural class of female students. While there, she becomes friends with a group of Chinese students (who can travel to St. Petersburg because the Railroad is complete). When Russian secret police (under the command of Nicholas, Constantine's brother) raid a Chinese social club, Sasha finds herself caught up in a complex web of intrigue and espionage. A mysterious British student, Jack, helps her out, but also further complicates things.

For most of the book, this is a delightful spy story with strong steampunk trappings (in the classic sense of the term - the presence of steam powered devices allows radical changes to society. The cultural tension exists between elements which want change and elements which don't. Sasha ends up getting the benefit of both the pre and post steam world, and shaping things to her best advantage). There is also some evidence of wuxia style kung fu - the highly acrobatic over-the-top style of heroism. In movies, this is assisted by wires - lots of leaping over buildings, punching people through walls, landing so hard the surface of the road cracks - that sort of thing. This plays only a minor role in the story, but suggests that there is the possibility for further narrative exploration there.

The good - I really liked the steampunk stuff. There's a lengthy description of Sasha's corset, which allows her to dress as a young man (for an espionage driven trip across Russia to China) - lots of authors talk about girls dressing as boys, but Sedia puts some thought into what that would entail, and maps it out. I love the narrative style, which has just enough of a flavor of late 19th century literature to be fun, but not so much that the book is unreadable. It's mostly there in the phrasing and the sentence structure - delightful. I like the effort that Sedia has made in thinking about the world she is crafting - how would Constantine's reforms have affected the geopolitics of the late 19th century? How would Britain have reacted? What effect might it have had on events in China? Excellent world building.

The not so good - first, the novel ends rather abruptly. As I approached the end of the book, I got that dreaded "there's going to be a sequel" feeling - and then, in the last chapter, Sedia wraps everything up, and tacks on an epilogue to tidy up any loose ends. The book could easily have been 1/4 of its length longer, and the pat ending is a little too much. I suspect that Sedia is thinking in terms of a sequel, but wanted to avoid the problem of the unfinished first book. That's the only really big flaw - there are some minor details that bugged me a little - a little cultural appropriation here, an inconvenient fever there - but nothing major. I would happily read a sequel.

If you like steampunk, if you like historical or counter-historical novels, if you like headstrong female protagonists and over the top cinematic action, then this is clearly the book for you.

Friday, December 2, 2011

November is over

but it kicked my ass on the way out the door. I'm going to go collapse now, and maybe I'll feel up to writing reviews before bed, and maybe not. I only made 2 1/2 books this week, so perhaps if I put it off until tomorrow I can do 3...

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Tuesday Library Post, 11/29/2011

Two books from the library this week. My goal for this week is to get caught up, if I can - I have 7 books in my pile, including the two I just picked up (assuming I haven't missed any...). I'm hoping to finish at least 3 of them this week.

Anyway, the new entries:

Peter Spiegelman - Thick as Thieves

A caper novel, involving a diamond heist which may or may not be a set up. Thieves and paranoia and a heist - I'm in!

 Tanya Huff - The Wild Ways


Huff was a pioneer in paranormal romance, before paranormal romance was a thing. This is the second book in a new series (The first was The Enchanted Emporium) involving exotic shape shifters and magical rites. I actually have no idea what this book is about, but I enjoyed the first one, and I expect to enjoy this one.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Signal Boost: Magick for Terri Windling

Terri Windling edits some of my favorite stuff - the re-imagining of fairy tales series, and the Borderlands series in particular.

From the site:

Terri Windling and her family have been coping with health and legal issues that have drained her financial resources at a critical time. Due to the serious nature of these issues, and privacy concerns for individual family members, we can't be more specific than that, but Terri is in need of our support. As a friend, a colleague and an inspiration, Terri has touched many, many lives over the years. She has been supremely generous in donating her own work and art to support friends and colleagues in crisis. Now, Terri is in need of some serious help from her community. Who better than her colleagues and fans to rise up to make some magick for her?


Terri, of course, has some fabulous friends, many of whom are artists and authors, many of whom are famous in their own right. What they're doing is offering some really cool stuff for auction - some really good original artwork, signed books, Cory Doctorow is auctioning a named character in his next book (Homeland - a sequel to Little Brother), with the proceeds going to Terri. I don't have anything to offer myself (and I'm not nearly close enough to Terri to offer anything even if I did) but I can boost the signal, and so I am:


http://magick4terri.livejournal.com/



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