Reading roundup

Feb 23, 2006 09:48

I took out the two LeGuin books ages ago, and it took me forever to actually read them. She writes the most beautiful, poetic prose of anyone in fantasy, with images startling in their simplicity and *rightness* -- just to pick the latest phrase that struck me: "[The water] was cool, but veins of sun warmth ran through it". And the language never feels forced or fanciful, as it may in some other poetic fantasies (e.g. Patricia McKillip, much as I love a lot of what she's written). So I'm in awe of LeGuin (though I must admit she was right in that one essay about it being better not to meet one's favorite authors -- I met her at a conference once (on gender in linguistics and bilingualism, or something), a conference I attended specifically because she was going to be there -- and I must say that I was in greater awe of her before I met her, and it was actually kind of a good thing. Anyway.)

But after reading The Other Wind I felt sort of reluctant to take up a LeGuin book again -- and was, in fact, surprised when I read through most of Gifts and 3/4 of Tales and was not at all depressed. And then I got to the last story in Tales and figured out what the deal actually was -- it's not LeGuin's stories in general that depress me, though they do tend to be sad at least on some level, it's the post-Ged-as-Archmage world, Ged as an old man without his magic, even if he is not in the story and it's just the knowledge of it, the absence that permeates it. Maybe I'm not old enough, or mature enough, or Zen enough to accept it, but -- stories are not supposed to go there! Ged was my passage to Earthsea, when I was, what, 13? I *can't* think of him as an old man... (I suspect I would feel the same way, though probably less so, reading stories of the Fourth Age of Middle-Earth, so I'm glad there aren't any. Perumov so doesn't count.)

But, on to the actual books:

8. Ursula LeGuin, Gifts -- I think this is the first non-Earthsea fantasy story by LeGuin I've read, and it felt a bit different for that. Less... I want to say, "rustic", but it's not actually that. Her Earthsea narrators tend to be wizards (often of common stock) or simple island folk, but the narrator of Gifts was a poet, and I think it showed in the tone, the flavor of the writing -- in fact, it reminded me a lot of McKillip, which LeGuin's writing never did before, for all the poetic elements. Perhaps it felt less concrete? I can't put my finger on it... It also reminded me of the Tain bo Cualinge, but much of that was probably just the cattle raids, although the idea of the gift's gift seems to fit in there as well.

I liked the worldbuilding idea, the nature and use of the Gifts, though it made for a rather grim picture. I liked the central characters well enough, and especially Orric's parents, and teared up when the mother died. I can't say that it struck me particularly, but it was lovely and powerfully written.

9. Ursula LeGuin, Tales from Earthsea -- this is a collection of five stories that LeGuin says she wrote when she "went back" to Earthsea and found that things there had changed. One of the stories, "The Bones of the Earth", I had read in an anthology before. The other four are worth discussing individually because they are actually quite different.

"The Finder" is the story of Medra and the founding of Roke. It was neat to get that pre-history, and I was happy enough to find out that the prohibition against women on Roke was not part of the original roots (though I don't know that having it all, essentially, start with women is not going a bit too far, for my taste), and how the designations of the nine came to be and changed through time. I liked Otter/Tern/Medra, especially as a young boy, and I liked Crow (the book collector), but was the character of the Hound that I found by far the most intriguing.

"The Finder" also contains my favorite quote from the book: "Medra was given a vision of magic not as a set of strange gifts and reasonless acts, but as an art and a craft, which could be known truly with long study and used rightly after long practice, though even then it would never lose its strangeness." That is exactly thing I'd want magic to be in the great fantasy novel I'd write, the precise balance I meant and couldn't get across in the whole "dissecting an Elf" discussion.

"Darkrose and Diamond" is a nice enough love story. and it's very impressive that a real love story can be written so non-sappily. As per usual, I also liked (in the sense of, how they're written, not as people) quite a few of the secondary characters -- Golden (Diamond's father) and Hemlock (the wizard).

"On the High Marsh" was probably my favorite story in the book (it was also the one that contained Ged, perhaps not coincidentally). The traveler who talks to cows, his characterization, at once pathetic and frightening (for the implications) was wonderful, the madness evident and fascinating and, miraculously, not *annoying* in his narrative voice -- god, I wish I could do that! But it was Gift I loved best of all, Gift, who asks, "Is that what broke you, the drink?" and wonders "if men from foreign parts were all so much handier about the house than the men of the Marsh." And, of course, incognito!Ged, who is all too happy to sleep in a barn with cows. This was the story that made me want to reread the original trilogy.

"Dragonfly" -- this was the post-Ged-as-Archmage story, and it took me forever to get through it for that reason,and I never really got into it, though it was probably the most beautifully written of the lot. Irian was not a character who resonated with me particularly, and Ivory, while he was an interesting construct, was too repellent to hold the story for me. And we never got close enough to the Roke wizards, really. What I liked best, though, were the endearing little mannerisms of their profession that each Master of Roke that we got to know a little showed -- the Patterner fiddling with little bits of things to line them up into circles (this resonated both because I tend to fidget with stuff and because I had at some point independently concluded that that's what Patterners *do*), Herbal stopping to look at mushrooms and collect seedpods, the Namer's interest in etymology. It wasn't subtle, but it worked very well for me.

Skipping on down to:

13. Jim Butcher, Academ's Fury -- book 2 of the "Codex Alera". Well, it was an entertaining read, as Butcher's books typically are, but also a fairly annoying one. For one, the book felt very poorly edited, something which I haven't noticed about the Harry Dresden books, or, ofr that matter, about the first volume in this series. There were typos and inconsistent capitalization and missing punctuation, things like that. There was also awkward sentence structure, and unnecessary repetition, and things that just generally didn't sound right. I don't know if they ran out of time, switched editors, or what, but, given that I typically skim right over things like that, and this time I noticed and it bothered me, it must have been pretty bad.

Also, I'd like to go on record as stating that I think Isana is a whiny Mary-Sue and I couldn't properly enjoy the story until she essentially disappeared from the page. I get it, I get it -- you are oh-so-sensitive because of your Watercrafting gifts, you lost the love of your life (or something) due to big bad politics, you can't admit to anyone that Tavi is your son... just shut up already! And while we are talking about Butcher's inability to write compelling female characters (who are not essentially guys, or evil, or insane) -- Amara's foray into angst with the whole blighted/can't bear children/therefore must leave the man I love crap -- was pretty taxing of the ol' suspension of disbelief, and didn't actually *do* anything for the story. OK, wait -- I take back the inability to write compelling female characters, partially -- I did actually like Kitai, and her overall story arc.

I still like the worldbuilding -- the magic/furycrafting -- although looks like Butcher has to work increasingly hard to justify why it can't be used to solve more of the problems he sets up. I like the expanding horizons -- in the first book, we got a good look at the Marat, with passing mentions of the Canim and the Icemen. In this one, we got to know the Canim better, and got an inside look at the Marat. I wonder if a confrontation with the Icemen is coming up in book 3. As for the vord, I was suitably creeped out by the *idea* of them (the concept and effects of being "taken", though, of course, the idea is nothing new), but the execution left me a bit cold -- I understand they are supposed to be shapeshifters, but on the one hand -- the little creepy-crawlie parasitic takers, then the spider-like Keepers, then the four-limbed warriors, and a humaniform queen (who is also telepathic) -- it doesn't add up to a coherent picture of a species.

Butcher is absolutely brutal to his characters, although nobody major dies in this book. I was very sorry to see Aric taken and killed -- I liked him in book 1 (plus, I like the name), and so I was quite cheered to see him returned as a Steadholder -- and now, bummer :(. The other returning characters I was happy to see were Doroga (the Marat chieftain), who is really an endearing fellow, Fidelias (although I don't think I'll be happy if he "turns" back to Gaius... especially if he sacrifices his life in the process), and the very brief appearance of Aldrick ex Gladius (he is on the page for less than 40 lines, I think, but I did also enjoy mentions of him by other characters). Invidia Aquitane was impressive in her magically-smacking-down ability, and made some interesting choices, so I like her more now.

Among the new characters, I did actually end up liking Max (even though it's transparent that he is *meant* to be likable), but Ehren was a relatively annoying stereotype (and I'm really not quite sure what he was there *for*). The assorted instructors, other students, and class/exam scenes were actually pretty boring -- may have worked better in a movie, and read like they were scripted for one. Oh well.

I'm still not sure whether the central "mystery" is supposed to be mysterious or clear at this point. I guessed that Tavi (a nickname for of Octavius, I'm betting) is sekritly Gaius's grandson, the son of Princeps Septimus and Isana, back in book 1. And not at the end of book 1, either. And now it appears that we are meant to know this... unless Miles's conversation with Gaius at the end is supposed to be cryptic? Or is this all a humongous red herring (a red whale, even), and Tavi is actually the son of, I don't know, the vord queen and a random Iceman? And of course it was pretty clear that Fade was Araris Valerian back in book 1, too, even before his duel with Aldrick. So we didn't find out anything new on that front, except that he has a living brother -- and I did think Miles's discovery of his identity, Miles's arc, was pretty well handled. I guess we still don't know what actually happened with Septimus, Isana, and Araris, or why, in particular, Isana hates Gaius, or why the vord seem to ignore Tavi (which I actually hadn't noticed until Gaius pointed it out). Eh, we'll see...

Also, the bit with Gaelle at the end? Felt totally random and tacked on. Unless it serves some purpose in book 3. Actually, even then -- I think it would've been better to keep it for book 3 entirely then, so that it doesn't dangle across books. More bits that could've benefitted from further editing...

Going back to the books skipped and/or skipped ahead to:

10. Zhaba s kosheljkom, Daria Dontsova -- yet another "ironic detective story" borrowed from my mother, this one from the series about Dasha Vasilyeva, and with even fewer pretenses at anything serious.

#11 was Pelevin, #12 was Thud!, summed up in separate posts.

Currently reading Jonathan Strange and Mr.Norrell (about 1/3 through this mammoth a book), and starting on Gene Wolfe's The Wizard, which, I suspect, will take me a bit of time to get back into.

a: ursula leguin, leguin, a: jim butcher, reading, dresden files, a: daria dontsova

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