#17 – Castle of Wizardry, by David Eddings

I once filled out one of those crazy questionnaire memes about books we’ve read in the past and how we felt about characters in those books. One of the questions was about whether or not we’d ever encountered a character in a book that we felt we could have a romantic relationship with, and if so, what character? I never really had an answer to that question, but then after re-reading the five books that make up The Belgariad (and then later the five books that make up The Malloreon) I finally have an answer. The skinny, spoiled, red-headed princess Ce’Nedra of Eddings’ world is exactly that character. I mean, she’s as intelligent as she is difficult, but I suppose that’s some of the appeal. I don’t know. I think in some ways that character planted ideas in my subconscious about exactly what I want in a partner and about… Continue Reading

#16 – Magician’s Gambit, by David Eddings

The characters in The Belgariad (the first five books of the ten Eddings novels I’m talking about here) aren’t really very complicated. Nearly all the main characters are… well, not exactly flat, but they’re pretty close to being archetypes. He sets up an apparatus of prophecies and identities standing behind all the major characters, keeping them stuck into roles they don’t necessarily even know they’re playing. This has the effect of not only keeping the plot rolling, but it kind of excuses the fact that they slip into types from time to time. If the characters are trapped in this apparatus, can they really burst free into true human form? I don’t know really know, but I think it’s actually an interesting question. Next up: Castle of Wizardry, by David Eddings.

#15 – Queen of Sorcery, by David Eddings

I said in my last post that Eddings engages in a heavy dialogue with Tolkien and the writers who follow him, and that’s probably my favourite part of his work; he takes a number of the tropes that emerged with Tolkien, like the massive armies moving about the world with a kind of missionary fervor, but he takes them apart and looks at them with a more pragmatic eye. Characters have to raise the army, they worry about how to feed the men, where their weapons and uniforms will come from, how far they can march in a day, and all sorts of other practical concerns. This sort of attention to detail is important to me in works of fantasy (almost even more so than in works of science fiction). The genre has become so mired trying to appear mythic that I feel the need to hold it to even… Continue Reading

#14 – Pawn of Prophecy, by David Eddings

Just to start out, I’m actually eleven books behind in my posts (this is book 14 for 2008, but I’m currently reading book 25), so things may move a bit quickly for the next few days. I don’t mind saying that these David Eddings books are guilty pleasures for me. Normally I dislike the notion of “guilty pleasure”; you shouldn’t feel guilt about enjoying any kind of reading, but one thing I think my institutional literary education taught me (an important lesson, I feel) is to distinguish between my enjoyment of a book and its quality. There are books I enjoy that are bad books, and there are books I do not enjoy that are excellent books, and I think an intelligent reader needs to be able to see that. I can see that, though I love the ten books that make up The Belgariad and The Malloreon, I know… Continue Reading

#13 – The Ladies of Grace Adieu, by Susanna Clarke

This book, with its embossed cloth cover, is absolutely beautiful. The picture on the left doesn’t even begin to do justice to the object itself. The stories inside are also quite lovely, but they seem to lack depth and substance. I could easily say that they don’t require depth and substance, as they are Brothers-Grimm-style fairy tales, but that would then deny the fact that one of the most interesting pleasures of Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell was the fact that she added those qualities to a fairy tale world. Clarke uses many of the same techniques in these stories as she did in her fine, fine novel; the archaic diction, academic paraphernalia of footnotes and bibliographic entries, and the hints at a well-worn mythology are all present, but the shorter form of these stories simply don’t allow them to develop the same impact that they had in her… Continue Reading

#12 – Spook Country, by William Gibson

Writing about Gibson’s books can be difficult if one wants to avoid spoilers, and one does in this instance. Upon reflection, I couldn’t imagine reading Spook Country and getting much enjoyment from it if I knew in the beginning what I now know at the end (re-reading is an entirely different kettle of fish, of course). Like nearly all of Gibson’s novels, Spook Country starts with several characters who seem completely unrelated to one another and slowly draws them together as a mystery is slowly revealed (revealed to the reader, that is; many of the characters know exactly what’s going on, although there is normally at least one—in this case a singer turned reporter named Hollis Henry—who doesn’t have a clue). And of course there’s the tech. Gibson is best known for near-future cyberpunk featuring technology that is just beyond our reach, although not entirely implausible. Spook Country is set… Continue Reading

#11 – Dark Voyage, by Alan Furst

A few weeks ago my father sent me a box full of historical novels, mostly with a nautical theme. My father has good taste in such books; he was the person who clued me in to the genius that is Patrick O’Brian. Dark Voyage is the first book from box, and while it’s no Master and Commander, it was quite an exciting read. Alan Furst does an excellent job of placing his characters in a believable—an exceptionally believable—picture of Europe and North Africa during the early years of World War Two. Eric DeHaan is captain of the Dutch tramp freighter Noordendam, co-opted by the British Navy for use in clandestine operations that could not be carried out by military vessels. Furst’s prose reminds me of Ian Fleming’s, in that it’s simple, direct, and focuses very much on creating a convincing physical world. In this sort of book its very important… Continue Reading

#10 – Fits Like A Rubber Dress, by Roxane Ward

When I bought this book, it was, as Steven admits to sometimes doing, mostly because of the cover. Really, who can resist a barely-clad woman in black? Not I. It wasn’t solely because of that, though. Part of it was the quotation from Timothy Findley on the back, and part of it was because there aren’t many Canadian novels (well, far fewer than those of our British and American cousins, anyway) that take the urban experience seriously, and I’m becoming more and more an urban creature since moving to the south. This novel, if nothing else, promised to be intensely urban. I was therefore quite saddened to find that the novel was pretty terrible. Indigo Blackwell, our protagonist, is a vapid character living a more or less meaningless existence, working a not-very-satisfying job and married to a husband (Sam) who is selfish and mildly manipulative. He’s doing research for his… Continue Reading

I Was A Teenage Book Readin’ Meme

Generally I don’t do memes on this blog, but I was tagged, and it’s got a book readin’ theme, so I figure what the hell. Q: Which book do you irrationally cringe away from reading, despite seeing only positive reviews? A: Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake, although I don’t think I’d call my cringing entirely irrational. I’ve read several of her other books, and I despise her fiction; it’s sloppy and more than a little dull. She could win every prize available to an author of fiction and I would still cringe at the idea of reading another of her books. Q: If you could bring three characters to life for a social event (afternoon tea, a night of clubbing, perhaps a world cruise), who would they be and what would the event be? A: Interesting question, and one I had to think about quite a bit. I chose an… Continue Reading

#9 – Flesh and Gold, by Phyllis Gotlieb

I bought this book because it was the only volume of science fiction in the entire Canadian section of my favourite neighbourhood book store, and I had never before read a Canadian novel that was deliberately labeled as SF. The reviews plastered all over it (from publications as diverse as Analog and Quill & Quire, though strangely no indication of what the book was actually about) were from sources I respected and more than piqued my interest. It turns out Phyllis Gotlieb is fairly well-known in SF circles, but I am an interested outsider at best. Everything I’ve read about Gotlieb’s work, and about this novel in particular, suggests that it is violent and highly sexual, though not necessarily erotic, and I found those statements to be true. It took me a good thirty or forty pages to get the hang of the book, but after that it took me… Continue Reading