Steampunk 101

I mentioned in an earlier post that this year I’m going to make an effort to reacquaint myself with my nerdy roots, and true to my word I’ve already begun in earnest. I’ve finished the first book from my three-volume H.P. Lovecraft collection, three more Ian Rankin novels (a different kind of nerdy) and this morning while waiting for my alarm to sound, I polished off The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers. “But wait,” you say (don’t argue, I heard you quite clearly), “the title of this post is Steampunk 101; that’s pretty specifically nerdy.” Well, yes it is. Allow me to explain. Last year I reviewed two novels, Alex and the Ironic Gentleman, by Adrienne Kress, and Triptych, by J.M. Frey (both of which were excellent), and I have—sort of, in a very limited way—started to get to know both authors online and that, in turn, got me interested… Continue Reading

Music to Read By

So last night’s post about the blues was sort of accidental. I had intended to write about what I listen to when I read. For years I was the sort of person who could read anywhere, regardless of what was going on around me. In university, when reading suddenly became important to my future (in terms of my career, I mean; I’m a book critic—as in, reviewer—now, but I once wanted to teach university-level English Literature and work as an academic critic/theorist), I lost the ability to read in the same room as someone watching television. And then I couldn’t read while listening to music with lyrics. And then I couldn’t read while listening to any sort of music. Most of that has passed, and I can once again listen to music while I read, although anything too heavy or uptempo, or with complicated lyrics I like to get lost… Continue Reading

The Whole of A.S. Byatt’s Oeuvre, Briefly Stated

I’ve been reading The Children’s Book recently, and came across a passage that struck me as important. If you want to understand A.S. Byatt’s work, not the whole of it, of course (post title notwithstanding), but the catalyst, the detonator, the idea that acts as the prime mover, you’d do well to think very hard about this passage. All you need to know in advance is that the book takes place in early Edwardian England, and that Patty Dace, Arthur Dobbin, and Rev. Frank Mallett have decide to organize a lecture series, and are meeting to discuss the topic and potential lecturers. She put on her spectacles, and said to Frank that they should perhaps find a title for a series. Dobbin said he thought they should find exciting speakers first, and then make up a title. Although Dobbin had been shy and ill-at-ease at Todefright he felt in retrospect… Continue Reading

Looking Ahead to 2012

I don’t do resolutions. Not because it’s a cliché; I sometimes think those are all right. Rather it’s because I just don’t ever stick to them. Things happen, blah blah blah. I could give you excuses, but that’s how things wind up going. So, inspired by Adrienne’s post (and obviously aping her post title) I’m going to say a few words about what I hope the new year has in store. First of all, I’m going to get a new job. This really isn’t optional, since I’ve just been freelancing since August (and I’m definitely going to be doing more of that; I’ve already been doing some freelance editing this year, and I’ve been back from the holidays for less than a week), but at this point anyway, it’s not paying the bills. I’m trying to keep optimistic, but this is honestly going to be simultaneously the hardest and the… Continue Reading

Triptych, by J.M. Frey

Please note that this review may include spoilers. As a general rule I do not share the SF/F community’s aversion to that sort of thing (it quite frankly gets in the way of a critic being able to give a full and honest assessment), so I’m not going to be careful about it. This is your one and only warning. If you’re into media—any kind of media, be it books, music, film, whatever—there is a term you will eventually hear thrown around: crossover success. A crossover success is when a work or artist from one genre, say, a rapper, achieves success with the fans of another genre, like indie rockers, or even better, with mainstream audiences. Stephen King and J.K. Rowling are massive examples from the book world. Before King, horror had largely been relegated to the third tier of the genre fiction ghetto (although to be fair, aside from… Continue Reading

Alex and the Ironic Gentleman, by Adrienne Kress

Some weeks ago I was at the Toronto launch for Robert J. Wiersema’s sort-of memoir, Walk Like A Man. Because I know Rob in the let’s-grab-a-beer kind of way, I was part of the entourage that wound up shuffling with him to some late night diner/bar combo down near The Esplanade, and there I found myself seated next to author Adrienne Kress. Kress, it turns out, is more fun than eight separate monkey barrels, and so I got her to write down the titles of her books so that I could look them up at the library. And look them up I did. The obvious place for me to start was Alex and the Ironic Gentleman, as it’s her first novel, and, based on the last page of the book, introduces characters that appear in her follow-up, Timothy and the Dragon’s Gate. Now, I don’t generally write about books for… Continue Reading

Five Days Apart, by Chris Binchy

David, the narrator of Five Days Apart, is described on the dust jacket as “bright but tongue-tied,” but I think that’s a little optimistic. For most of the first half of the book it seems more like David has some sort of disorder, like a mild form of Asperger’s Syndrome. His awkwardness isn’t just outward facing; it’s internalized as depression and paranoia. David meets Camille at a party and falls for her pretty much instantly, but he doesn’t have the confidence or the social skills to engage with her, so he asks his charismatic friend Alex to help break the ice. The ice is broken, but not for David, and Alex and Camille begin what turns out to be the first serious romantic relationship of Alex’s life. A devastated David can’t cope, and breaks off the friendship, throwing himself into his work. So here’s the thing: Alex getting involved with… Continue Reading

The Ambassador, by Bragi Ólafsson

There are books that are so good you find it nearly impossible to put them down. You stay up late, take extra trips to the washroom at work, and even when you do finally manage to put them down for a while, they are easy to slide back into when you do pick them up again. And then there are books that are every bit as good, but are also dense or difficult or not very fast paced, and even though they are amazing and hard to put down, they’re also very hard to pick back up again because of that density or what have you. The Ambassador is the second kind of book; absolutely brilliant, but it makes demands on the reader, and can be difficult to get into again once you actually manage to tear yourself away so you can go to work or what have you. Which,… Continue Reading

Can’tLit, edited by Richard Rosenbaum

I’m not punk, or indie, or anything like that. There’s aspects of those cultures, or counter-cultures I guess (same thing, really), that I feel an affinity for, but they’re not really my scene. Indie culture is what Broken Pencil does, though, and therefore you’re not going to find much in the way of mainstream fiction in Can’tLit, and anthology of fiction from the magazine. That’s both awesome and frustrating. There’s two ways to think of taking risks in fiction. There’s the obvious way, which is writing against mainstream literary expectations, and I have a lot of respect for that, especially when it’s done here in Canada, because, well… yeah. CanLit can be boring and predictable as shit sometimes. Maybe even most of the time. (Rosenbaum’s foreword even starts with the words: “CanLit sucks.”) There’s a whole bunch of that in this collection; in point of fact most of the pieces… Continue Reading

The World More Full of Weeping, by Robert J. Wiersema

So here we have another gorgeous book. This is a thing that CZP does, create beautiful books that is, a logical consequence of hiring Erik Mohr to design covers, and the picture that I have posted here does not do it justice (it includes spot varnish!). Creepy in an awesome kind of way, yeah? Anyway. The World More Full of Weeping is only about eighty pages, so I don’t know whether to call it a novella or a short novel, but I don’t care, because it’s really good. There’s also a short essay on the psychogeography of his work in the back that actually stands on its own, so, you know, bit of a bonus there. I loved Bedtime Story, and really enjoyed Before I Wake, but I think The World More Full of Weeping is my favourite of his books. The central concern of Wiersema’s work is families in… Continue Reading