I’M READING AS FAST AS I CAN (NOVEMBER 2021 EDITION)
In which we learn that the secret to accelerating your reading pace is to read more short books and/or books by authors that write smooth and accessible prose. Result!
Animal Farm by George Orwell
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I read this in high school and its influence on me cannot be overstated. I was inspired to re-read it after the news that Animal Farm and 1984 were among the most borrowed books from the Hong Kong library system in 2020 - the year the National Security Law came into force. And at this year’s Hong Kong Book Fair, a patriotic pro-Beijing group told pro-Beijing newspapers that several booths were breaking the NSL by selling books promoting HK independence - one of which was Animal Farm, which just goes to show.
So after all that, I just had to read it again, didn’t I? Besides, I was sure that there was a lot of nuance that I missed at age 16 that I was more likely to catch at age 56. Also, it was a chance for me to support my favorite independent bookstore, Bleak House Books, which stocked new copies of the book with a personal inscription hand-written by the owner: “All Hongkongers are equal. But some Hongkongers are more equal than others.” (Sadly, Bleak House - which carried lots of books the HK govt does not want people to read - closed its doors last month because of the current political climate. Which, again, just goes to show.)
Anyway, the book - well, you all know it’s a satire of the Russian Revolution, with farm animals kicking out the humans and establishing a socialist utopia that soon goes sour as the pig Napoleon establishes himself as supreme commander and betrays everything the animal revolution stands for - and makes the other animals love him for it. And it’s even better than I remember it - Orwell absolutely nailed it. Satire aside, it’s a masterclass in how free societies can be transformed into ruthless dictatorships whilst pretending that they are in fact still free and fair societies that make life better for everyone (despite all evidence to the contrary) as long as they do what they're told and don't question authority - all in under 100 pages.
So, yes, little wonder it’s so popular in HK now. It’s not officially banned yet, but we expect that to change sooner or later now that the new Customs chief has put books and films on her list of national security threats to intercept (also, lobsters). So maybe I’ll finally realize my dream of owning a book that could get me arrested if I read it in public. Good times.
The Night and the Music by Lawrence Block
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Matt Scudder is easily the heaviest and grittiest of Lawrence Block’s series characters, as well as one of the most complex. He was also slightly subversive, with Block recasting the classic hard-boiled, hard-drinking PI trope into an ex-cop struggling with alcoholism and seeking some kind of redemption who somehow always finds a case to solve despite not having a PI license or even a gun, which he refuses to carry. Having read most of the novels in the series, it’s been interesting watching the character evolve from alcoholism to sobriety as he puts his life back together.
This anthology - which collects all of the Scudder short stories Block wrote off and on over the years, and features two all-new stories - is sort a whirlwind tour of Scudder’s evolution, from his alcoholic years to his gentler married years, and even explores his earlier career as a cop. Consequently, the stories themselves range from straight crime stories to vignettes and reminisces where murder and crime are offscreen and/or subjects of conversation rather than the central plotline. The stories are chronological mainly in terms of the order in which they were published, yet there’s a kind of logical flow to them, although that logic might be more apparent to people who have read the series.
That said, I wouldn’t say this is for fans only - the individual stories are worth reading, as most of Block’s stuff is. On the other hand, the context of the series might be helpful in dealing with the more racist elements in the stories - Block is no racist, but he’s never shied away from the racist realities of NYC, especially in the 70s, and especially when it comes to the NYPD, although he’s never gone to the extremes of, say, James Ellroy. And while Scudder is not racist himself, some readers might be put off by his failure to actively denounce it. But then Scudder’s world has always been morally complex - his best friend is a murderous Irish gangster boss, for goodness sake. Anyway, I read the novels ages ago, so it was a nice trip down memory lane for me.
The Lights in the Sky Are Stars by Fredric Brown
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
It’s hard to find Fredric Brown books (at least at the bookstores I manage to make it to), so imagine my surprise to find this one in an indie bookstore in Hong Kong. Brown wrote a lot of pulp SF short stories in his heyday, but not many SF novels. While this was his second SF novel, it was the first to make a serious attempt at speculative SF, imagining a future where humans have not only reached the moon by the 1960s, but also Mars and Venus. And when the novel starts in 1997, Jupiter is next on the list - at least for protagonist Max Andrews, a former astronaut who desperately wants to go to there.
There are snags, of course. Andrews is 57 and missing a leg from an accident that sidelined his space-faring career. Moreover, the political will to fund spaceflight has waned as more and more people believe spaceflight is a distraction from solving problems on Earth. Andrews’ last hope is Ellen Gallagher, a Senate candidate who promises to push through a bill authorizing a mission to Jupiter. Andrews helps her win (not entirely legally) in exchange for giving him a key role in the project. As you would expect, things do not go as planned, not least because Andrews … well, let’s just say he’s an unreliable narrator.
While there’s a lot of science here, this book is really more of a political novel, focusing on all the political wrangling and red tape Max and Ellen must navigate to get the project approved. On the downside, the love story angle is corny and predictable, and the Big Twist is rather incredulous since it relies on a “secret” that would have been ridiculously easy for anyone to uncover. On the upside, the main story overall did go in a direction I wasn't expecting. Also, considering this was published in 1953, Brown had a strikingly realistic grasp of how space flight would evolve, and the political realities that would determine its progress, even if he didn’t put much thought into other technological advances (apparently we’re all still writing letters to each other in 1997). Flawed but a decent read.
Riot Baby by Tochi Onyebuchi
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is my first time reading Tochi Onyebuchi, who wrote some YA books before writing this, his first adult novella, which has been billed as a dystopian near-future SF story - which is odd, since there’s very little “near future” or science in it, and the dystopian bits are actually happening right now. I’d describe it more as a contemporary story that uses superpowers as a tool to connect the dots of America’s racism problem.
The “Riot Baby” in question is Kev, who was born during the 1992 riot in LA following the acquittal of the police officers who beat up Rodney King. After his family moves to Harlem, Kev ends up in Rikers for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and being black while doing both. Meanwhile, his older sister Ella has developed telekinetic superpowers that enable her to not only break stuff and hurt people, but also astrally project and see people’s futures. While Kev does time, Ella is trying to get to grips with her powers, angry at the social injustices of institutionalized racism enforced by police brutality, but unsure what to do about it apart from simply destroying everything.
As others have noticed, it’s a righteously angry book. Onyebuchi uses the story of Ella and Kev to show that white police brutality against blacks has been going on long before Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown, and will continue to happen as we move on to an era of ubiquitous surveillance and racially-biased AI algorithms telling the police who is more likely to commit crimes. The book’s non-linear narrative makes it a bit difficult to follow at times, especially as it transitions to the near-future bits. And I suppose some will ask why doesn’t Ella just use her superpowers to break Kev out of jail? But that’s not really the story Onyebuchi is telling here - it’s a history lesson that looks at where we may headed if we refuse to learn from (or even acknowledge) the past. As usual, your enjoyment will probably depend on your opinion of the events Onyebuchi is referencing here.
The Ginger Star by Leigh Brackett
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I’ve been keen to read more Leigh Brackett - partly because her reputation as a pulp SF author and screenwriter is legend, but mainly because I really liked The Long Tomorrow. This novel is a reboot of her most popular Golden Age SF character, Eric John Stark, sort of a cross between John Carter and Tarzan - an orphan raised in the mines of Mercury by aboriginals. Stark identifies more with them than humans, and after being rescued and raised by Simon Ashton, becomes a mercenary who jets around the solar system and tends to side with locals over the human colonialists when conflict arises.
The Stark stories (like a lot of pulp SF at the time) were set on other planets in the solar system under the assumption that the nearby planets could support human life. By 1974 we knew better, so for this series Brackett created an extrasolar universe run by a Galactic Union to enable Stark to find other planets to have adventures on. In this case, Stark arrives at Skaith, a primitive backwater planet where the GU has recently opened a port for trading purposes. Simon Ashton (now representing the GU) has disappeared, and Stark is on a personal mission to rescue him. Skaith is controlled by the Lords Protector, whose Wandsmen keep the various factions in line. Stark ends up dealing with all of them in his quest to find Ashton - which is problematic as his very presence as an offworlder seems to fulfil a prophecy that an offworlder will overthrow the Lords Protector.
Despite the relocation, this essentially follows the same template as earlier Stark tales - straight sword-fantasy-adventure with very little technology beyond the starships that enables Stark to travel between planets. While this particular brand of SF has never really grabbed me, Brackett is better at it than other authors I’ve sampled. The story moves at a brisk pace, and Stark is well-developed enough as a character that he comes across as more than a Tarzan-in-space knockoff. More interesting is the subtle yet key plot point of a technologically advanced civilization setting up shop in a more primitive one, and how the latter reacts to it, particularly the Powers That Be. Anyway, it’s okay for what it is, and it hasn't discouraged me from reading the next one, so there’s that.
View all my reviews
Stark raving mad,
This is dF
This entry was originally posted at https://defrog.dreamwidth.org/1663988.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Animal Farm by George Orwell
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I read this in high school and its influence on me cannot be overstated. I was inspired to re-read it after the news that Animal Farm and 1984 were among the most borrowed books from the Hong Kong library system in 2020 - the year the National Security Law came into force. And at this year’s Hong Kong Book Fair, a patriotic pro-Beijing group told pro-Beijing newspapers that several booths were breaking the NSL by selling books promoting HK independence - one of which was Animal Farm, which just goes to show.
So after all that, I just had to read it again, didn’t I? Besides, I was sure that there was a lot of nuance that I missed at age 16 that I was more likely to catch at age 56. Also, it was a chance for me to support my favorite independent bookstore, Bleak House Books, which stocked new copies of the book with a personal inscription hand-written by the owner: “All Hongkongers are equal. But some Hongkongers are more equal than others.” (Sadly, Bleak House - which carried lots of books the HK govt does not want people to read - closed its doors last month because of the current political climate. Which, again, just goes to show.)
Anyway, the book - well, you all know it’s a satire of the Russian Revolution, with farm animals kicking out the humans and establishing a socialist utopia that soon goes sour as the pig Napoleon establishes himself as supreme commander and betrays everything the animal revolution stands for - and makes the other animals love him for it. And it’s even better than I remember it - Orwell absolutely nailed it. Satire aside, it’s a masterclass in how free societies can be transformed into ruthless dictatorships whilst pretending that they are in fact still free and fair societies that make life better for everyone (despite all evidence to the contrary) as long as they do what they're told and don't question authority - all in under 100 pages.
So, yes, little wonder it’s so popular in HK now. It’s not officially banned yet, but we expect that to change sooner or later now that the new Customs chief has put books and films on her list of national security threats to intercept (also, lobsters). So maybe I’ll finally realize my dream of owning a book that could get me arrested if I read it in public. Good times.
The Night and the Music by Lawrence Block
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Matt Scudder is easily the heaviest and grittiest of Lawrence Block’s series characters, as well as one of the most complex. He was also slightly subversive, with Block recasting the classic hard-boiled, hard-drinking PI trope into an ex-cop struggling with alcoholism and seeking some kind of redemption who somehow always finds a case to solve despite not having a PI license or even a gun, which he refuses to carry. Having read most of the novels in the series, it’s been interesting watching the character evolve from alcoholism to sobriety as he puts his life back together.
This anthology - which collects all of the Scudder short stories Block wrote off and on over the years, and features two all-new stories - is sort a whirlwind tour of Scudder’s evolution, from his alcoholic years to his gentler married years, and even explores his earlier career as a cop. Consequently, the stories themselves range from straight crime stories to vignettes and reminisces where murder and crime are offscreen and/or subjects of conversation rather than the central plotline. The stories are chronological mainly in terms of the order in which they were published, yet there’s a kind of logical flow to them, although that logic might be more apparent to people who have read the series.
That said, I wouldn’t say this is for fans only - the individual stories are worth reading, as most of Block’s stuff is. On the other hand, the context of the series might be helpful in dealing with the more racist elements in the stories - Block is no racist, but he’s never shied away from the racist realities of NYC, especially in the 70s, and especially when it comes to the NYPD, although he’s never gone to the extremes of, say, James Ellroy. And while Scudder is not racist himself, some readers might be put off by his failure to actively denounce it. But then Scudder’s world has always been morally complex - his best friend is a murderous Irish gangster boss, for goodness sake. Anyway, I read the novels ages ago, so it was a nice trip down memory lane for me.
The Lights in the Sky Are Stars by Fredric Brown
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
It’s hard to find Fredric Brown books (at least at the bookstores I manage to make it to), so imagine my surprise to find this one in an indie bookstore in Hong Kong. Brown wrote a lot of pulp SF short stories in his heyday, but not many SF novels. While this was his second SF novel, it was the first to make a serious attempt at speculative SF, imagining a future where humans have not only reached the moon by the 1960s, but also Mars and Venus. And when the novel starts in 1997, Jupiter is next on the list - at least for protagonist Max Andrews, a former astronaut who desperately wants to go to there.
There are snags, of course. Andrews is 57 and missing a leg from an accident that sidelined his space-faring career. Moreover, the political will to fund spaceflight has waned as more and more people believe spaceflight is a distraction from solving problems on Earth. Andrews’ last hope is Ellen Gallagher, a Senate candidate who promises to push through a bill authorizing a mission to Jupiter. Andrews helps her win (not entirely legally) in exchange for giving him a key role in the project. As you would expect, things do not go as planned, not least because Andrews … well, let’s just say he’s an unreliable narrator.
While there’s a lot of science here, this book is really more of a political novel, focusing on all the political wrangling and red tape Max and Ellen must navigate to get the project approved. On the downside, the love story angle is corny and predictable, and the Big Twist is rather incredulous since it relies on a “secret” that would have been ridiculously easy for anyone to uncover. On the upside, the main story overall did go in a direction I wasn't expecting. Also, considering this was published in 1953, Brown had a strikingly realistic grasp of how space flight would evolve, and the political realities that would determine its progress, even if he didn’t put much thought into other technological advances (apparently we’re all still writing letters to each other in 1997). Flawed but a decent read.
Riot Baby by Tochi Onyebuchi
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is my first time reading Tochi Onyebuchi, who wrote some YA books before writing this, his first adult novella, which has been billed as a dystopian near-future SF story - which is odd, since there’s very little “near future” or science in it, and the dystopian bits are actually happening right now. I’d describe it more as a contemporary story that uses superpowers as a tool to connect the dots of America’s racism problem.
The “Riot Baby” in question is Kev, who was born during the 1992 riot in LA following the acquittal of the police officers who beat up Rodney King. After his family moves to Harlem, Kev ends up in Rikers for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and being black while doing both. Meanwhile, his older sister Ella has developed telekinetic superpowers that enable her to not only break stuff and hurt people, but also astrally project and see people’s futures. While Kev does time, Ella is trying to get to grips with her powers, angry at the social injustices of institutionalized racism enforced by police brutality, but unsure what to do about it apart from simply destroying everything.
As others have noticed, it’s a righteously angry book. Onyebuchi uses the story of Ella and Kev to show that white police brutality against blacks has been going on long before Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown, and will continue to happen as we move on to an era of ubiquitous surveillance and racially-biased AI algorithms telling the police who is more likely to commit crimes. The book’s non-linear narrative makes it a bit difficult to follow at times, especially as it transitions to the near-future bits. And I suppose some will ask why doesn’t Ella just use her superpowers to break Kev out of jail? But that’s not really the story Onyebuchi is telling here - it’s a history lesson that looks at where we may headed if we refuse to learn from (or even acknowledge) the past. As usual, your enjoyment will probably depend on your opinion of the events Onyebuchi is referencing here.
The Ginger Star by Leigh Brackett
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I’ve been keen to read more Leigh Brackett - partly because her reputation as a pulp SF author and screenwriter is legend, but mainly because I really liked The Long Tomorrow. This novel is a reboot of her most popular Golden Age SF character, Eric John Stark, sort of a cross between John Carter and Tarzan - an orphan raised in the mines of Mercury by aboriginals. Stark identifies more with them than humans, and after being rescued and raised by Simon Ashton, becomes a mercenary who jets around the solar system and tends to side with locals over the human colonialists when conflict arises.
The Stark stories (like a lot of pulp SF at the time) were set on other planets in the solar system under the assumption that the nearby planets could support human life. By 1974 we knew better, so for this series Brackett created an extrasolar universe run by a Galactic Union to enable Stark to find other planets to have adventures on. In this case, Stark arrives at Skaith, a primitive backwater planet where the GU has recently opened a port for trading purposes. Simon Ashton (now representing the GU) has disappeared, and Stark is on a personal mission to rescue him. Skaith is controlled by the Lords Protector, whose Wandsmen keep the various factions in line. Stark ends up dealing with all of them in his quest to find Ashton - which is problematic as his very presence as an offworlder seems to fulfil a prophecy that an offworlder will overthrow the Lords Protector.
Despite the relocation, this essentially follows the same template as earlier Stark tales - straight sword-fantasy-adventure with very little technology beyond the starships that enables Stark to travel between planets. While this particular brand of SF has never really grabbed me, Brackett is better at it than other authors I’ve sampled. The story moves at a brisk pace, and Stark is well-developed enough as a character that he comes across as more than a Tarzan-in-space knockoff. More interesting is the subtle yet key plot point of a technologically advanced civilization setting up shop in a more primitive one, and how the latter reacts to it, particularly the Powers That Be. Anyway, it’s okay for what it is, and it hasn't discouraged me from reading the next one, so there’s that.
View all my reviews
Stark raving mad,
This is dF
This entry was originally posted at https://defrog.dreamwidth.org/1663988.html. Please comment there using OpenID.