Reading roundup and some reading-related memes
I've been going through books more quickly lately. Short books, true, but I'm still reading more quickly, in the last several weeks, than I had in the previous month or so, actually going back to when I finished Storm of Swords, I think. And it's not even that the books are necessarily more engrossing than their predecessors, although that does help, too, I've hit on a good batch. I think I just feel like escaping into reading more as pre-sabbatical panic sets in in earnest. Anyhow, here they are:
20. Steven Brust, Taltos -- so, after the objectively-good-but-rather-unsatisfying Dzur, I was really craving a Morrolan fix, and picked up Taltos and Phoenix (in one volume) when I came across it at the library. I am now quite certain that i have, in fact, read these books before. I am even pretty sure that Taltos was the book that introduced me to the series (though not Dragaera as a whole -- that was The Phoenix Guards, which I read while hanging out in the now-defunct Crown Books where I would duck on my way home from school pretty much every day and spend an hour or more loitering in the SF/Fantasy section, reading. I read quite a few books this way, notably The Princess Bride and Aurian (a much less memorable book than the former, but which did make me think, for the first time, I think, "Hey, I could write epic fantasy better than this!"). Anyway. Taltos.
I really, really prefer young wiseass Vlad, whose motto in life seems to be "[something], but [something], so, what the hell" to the older-and-wiser Vlad of the later books. And as for Morrolan (my favorite character in the series), I pretty much just want to give him a (very courteous) hug, like, continuously. Morrolan trying to keep himself in control while confronted with said wiseass Vlad, assorted gods, the prospect of forfeiting his life, his cousin, snooty Dragonlords, Kieron the Conqueror, getting smacked in the face by branches, and unnamed psych-outs on the Paths of the Dead are precisely the sort of thing I enjoy reading, and Vlad and Morrolan's evolving relationship from their first meeting on is exactly what I wanted to read at this point. (Although, god, I should have never read that Vlad/Morrolan slash, not because it was bad -- some of it certainly wasn't -- but because I will now never be able to un-slash them in my mind. Although, to be honest, the text -- with its mention of Vlad watching Morrolan lick honey off his fingers and wishing he had a goatee, and then, in another scene, remarking that the night they spent camping outdoors was not romantic -- isn't helping with that, really.)
Among non-Morrolan-related things it was good to reconnect with: I shall always be amused by Kragar's invisibility, apparently. Baby Loiosh psionically calling Vlad "Mama" was something I'd completely forgotten and was very glad to rediscover. Oh, and Vlad's teleportation-sickness, which he's been cured off in the last books -- I do so feel for the poor guy.
I love the little bits of worldbuilding in this, distinguishing the two races, that Brust does better than anyone else I've read, I think. Not just the different meanings of "human" that I keep bringing up, subtler things than that, like the fact that Dragaerans have no word for brandy (they call it "wine"), the offhand mention of different growth rates, the mental reminder that Easterners and Dragaerans have different aesthetic sensibilities, when Vlad remarks, e.g. that someone was handsome for a Dragaeran. Of course the different fighting styles and styls of magic (witchcraft vs sorcery), the different size. "Whiskers" as a derogatory term for Easterners. It's just all so well and cleverly put together, even beyond the central themes and all that.
I'm actually even willing to totally overlook one of my pet peeves about fantasy writing, wherein English puns mysteriously work in other languages (e.g. Dragaeran, when Vlad and Morrolan are talking to the cat-centaurs) or in mental communication (between Vlad and Loiosh; although I guess it would depend on how the mental communication is supposed to work).
Speaking of pet peeves, I think one thing Brust does consistently and well is breaking up chunks of magic practitioning into small flashbacks / intermezzo type things, which serve to both give you the flavour of the arcane art being worked and yet not bore you for long stretches of time with nothing happening. (See pet peeve #10, successfully avoided)
Brust does some neat things stylistically that I enjoy, and I feel the need to especially recognize his use of zeugma: "Light crept past a curtain. So did I, finging myself in a room etc." Because zeugma is a favorite word of mine, and more people ought to show it respect and also in their books. (Um... zeugma are hard. Is hard? Anyway, I suck at zeugma, but I did try. Moving on now.)
23. Steven Brust, Phoenix -- OK, this one I remember quite well. And I have a hard time accepting that Taltos and Phoenix were written back-to-back, because there are two such very different books -- Vlad is so, so different in them. And I know I've said this like three times already, but I like young Vlad lots better. And in Phoenix, Vlad who is coming to terms with the disintegration of his marriage, the massacre he finds himself involved in and can't bear to think about, and the end of his old life as a whole is almost painful to read about.
He spends so much of the book (all of it, really, except for the odd kind of resignation and acceptance at the end) frightened and struggling to figure out where he belongs, I... it's not a fun read for me, at all, and there isn't a lot to offset the grimness. Bits of humour, yes, but they just served to remind me of the tone of the earlier books that I missed. I guess it's impressive to have an "action fantasy" book tackle themes such as divorce and revolution (not that the Taltos books are ever brainless reading, but the ones of the series I prefer are lightly written over a foundation of some serious themes), and I liked the way both were handled (like the fact that Vlad thinks the revolutionaries are morons who are good only for talking and aren't terribly useful, while still finding himself in sympathy with their goals -- I don't have much use for revolutionaries myself), but mainly I just wanted the book to end, so that Vlad could stop struggling with this limbo, at least for a time.
There are certainly some bits that I did enjoy, unreservedly. That Noish-pa was more than just mentioned in passing in this book, and that he is shown to have a character beyond a blank mentor figure (this may happen in other books, too, I just don't remember) -- like his inability to kill the female Phoenix Guard and his initial refusal to accept sanctuary from a Dragaeran (nice parallel there, actually, to the way Vlad's father died because he refused the help of Eastern witchcraft), and the way Noish-pa interacts with Vlad's Dragaeran friends. I would haveliked to see more Noish-pa / Morrolan interaction, actually. But I would have liked to see more Morrolan / anyone interaction, really.
As always, I'm impressed with the worldbuilding, and the thorough, molecular way in which it's accomplished. This is true of all the books, but the profusion of foreign flora and fauna offhandedly mentioned (e.g. in the epilogue) is something that I've rarely seen in fantasy, beyond one or two "meaningful" species. It's hard to do, of course, because the reader does not have visual images for these things you name, and it could be (and is, somewhat) disorienting when it doesn't get bogged down in needless stage-setting exposition, but there's a good balance of it. More than in the other two books I (re)read recently, the ubiquitousness of the Houses division jumps out in his one, in lines like "Consider how your wife will react if you find some way to yendi her out of prison, while everyone else stays there." It is such a natural thing to do in English, verbing nouns, and yet I don't think I've seen it used with "foreign" words very often, even when a fantasy work is brimming with italicized "special" nouns for magical objects and the like. Or: "Only Issola live in the Palace" and "Tiassa think walking, Draons think standing, Lyorn think sitting, and Dzur think afterward." Because proverbs are really cool! (I once spent a couple of days just making up random proverbs for my Magnum Opus. I still have them written down somewhere, but the only one I remember offhand is the rather awkward and inane one which went "If a dragon didn't visit you, why are your curtains on fire?" Anyway...)
Other random stuff enjoyed: Vlad's little crush on the Empress, and her admission (?) of having an Eastern lover. Oh, and the refreshing flashback-glimpse of Vlad testifying under the orb about the mysterious death of his former boss.
Also -- what do we know about how psionic contact is established, anyway? I'm wondering because when Vlad is trying to get ahold of Kragar, he just goes, "Kragar. Kragar. Kragar." But when he is trying to reach Morrolan to ask for sanctuary at Castle Black, he thinks, "Morrolan. Funny-talking Dragonlord. Dragaeran witch. Wielder of Blackwand. Morrolan. Morrolan." Also, apparently, you can't tell who is contacting you psionically, because both Kragar and Morrolan have to ask who it is, although Morrolan does guess on his own. So, what was Vlad doing in Morrolan's case? Using phrases that would allow Morrolan to identify him? Or something like scanning psychic frequencies, or proof that Morrolan/Vlad = OTP what?
Note to self: Chronological order of the Vlad Taltos novels, according to Brust himself (this is sort of imprecise, because a number of these have flashbacks and narration by Vlad from one book about events in a previous one, things like that): Taltos, Yendi, Dragon, Jhereg, Teckla, Phoenix, Athyra, Orca, Issola, Dzur. I've read Taltos, Yendi, Jhereg, Teckla, Phoenix, Issola, and Dzur. I *really* want to read Dragon, because it's Morrolan-heavy and contains young Vlad, and should probably try to re-read Jhereg and Yendi when the opportunity arises -- I don't remember those books terribly well either. So it turns out that, other than Dragon, the only Vlad books I haven't read (Athyra and Orca) are the non-Vlad narrated ones, and I'm guessing I will enjoy them a lot less (and I've already spoiled myself for the things in them that are valuable to know).
21. Michael Cadnum, In a Dark Wood -- I first encountered Cadnum via this book of short stories, and was suitably entertained to want to read more of his stuff. This book tells the (sort of) story of Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham from the Sheriff's POV. It wasn't hampered any by the fact that my mental image of the Sheriff is curly-haired, goateed Alan Rickman from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (now, normally, Rickman does *nothing* for me, but in that movie the magical power of the goatee asserted itself, so, yeah.) But, mental images of Alan Rickman aside, I actually did like the book on its own merits. I have no particular fondness for the Robin Hood story (although I loved the Robin Hood ballads as a kid, having read them first in Russian, some in Marshak's translation (I think) and the rest in a little volume borrowed from Pippin's sister one fateful summer, from which I still remember, totally randomly, these words: "Milord, ya staraya vdova\A ty parshivyj pes" [Milord, I'm an old widow\And you're a mangy dog]) -- but the story is told well and somewhat uniquely here. Not so much for the "villain" POV, though that was interesting, but for the writing.
As far as POV goes, Geoffrey the Sheriff is not a villain but a worthy, if somewhat humourless and beleaguered man, fighting to earn the respect of provincial commoners when he would rather be reading books and doing sums, forced by his position to be more cruel than he would like to be, on shaky ground with the king though he is doing his best, and without the worldview or vocabulary to experess affection for those he cares about. It all ends a bit too cheerfully and tidily, though there are some interesting, odd interludes the meaning of which is not clearly spelled out and keeps the ending from being too neat. But I must say that I liked the first portion of the book better, before the Sheriff meets Robin and while he is struggling to tread water with the king's steward, his own men, and his wife.
The writing is interesting, bristling with unusual similes, especially ones where living things are compared to inanimate objects (a crow to a lump of iron, for instance) and many things, animate and inanimate, are compared to body parts, which ties in nicely with authentic-sounding discourse about how the High Way is an extension of the king himself, and the steward acts as part of the king's body, and so forth. There is also some delightfully bizarre but also authentic-sounding discourse between character on the lesson(s) of the bees and the swans, and -- my favorite part -- lots of attention paid to dialectical words used and pronunciation, distinguishing the king steward's cosmopolitan dialect from the locals' rough speech from the lady's nasally Parisian speech from the lady's maid's affectations of same. It's all done with humour and not constantly, so the effect is interesting rather than pedantic, and I really like this sort of stuff.
So, very interesting book, although it did not captivate me personally or engage me too deeply emotionally. The ending's a bit happier than I would have assumed based on how the book starts off -- and I think that weakens the overall book somewhat, it's a bit of a cop-out -- but still very much an enjoyable read. And I think Cadnum now joins the list of writers whose works I'll happily check out virtually regardless of premise.
22. Sharon Shinn, The Safe-Keeper's Secret -- I'm not sure if this is a prequel or the book that was written first, but, in any case, it preceeds The Truth-Teller's Tale, and I actually liked it lots better. Like the other book, it's got hidden identities and elaborate secrets that are revealed in one fell swoop, but I found both much less transparent this time. I think that was mostly because there was a viable alternative provided for what the secret could be (that is, I spent most of the book thinking that one of the secrets was that Fiona would find out that she is the daughter of Thomas, whom she didn't like very much, and that Reed would turn out to be the son of someone from the capital other than the king). There are also some other odd things that could've turned out to be involved in the secret -- like Victoria's history of disappearance / accident and Fiona's antipathy towards her.
In general, this book was much less cutesy and had characters that did not appear to be quite such idiots (at least past the age of ten) as in the previous one. I did have a couple of quibbles -- the setting, era-wise, still feels nebulous to me. It seems to be a standard fantasy (i.e. ~medieval) world, but at the same time there are these modern touches, like most kids in the village going to school, although it's a small village school, and learning math and stuff, which is referred to as "math". That just seemed anachronistic, even if it might not be, I don't know. And Fiona thinking herself in love with someone at ten seemed odd, too -- in general, I thought she and Reed acted as quite a bit older than their years throughout most of the book, except for when Fiona was mentioned to be playing with her dolls. It was just a bit incongruent.
I liked Reed a lot "as a person", and as for Fiona, while I didn't really like her as much, I thought she was an interesting personality choice for a character -- not too perfect and also not too one-dimensional. Her trouble dealing with grief, her general lack of sympathy towards some people, her difficulty sitting on her hands and her struggle with it, and also that she feels she's got a feeling what she will be in life -- and she turns out to be wrong. These are pretty rare traits for a protagonist, and I appreciated them.
The book makes an interesting choice in cutting out before one of the strands/wishes is resolved -- Reed's feelings for Fiona as more-than-sister. It seems to end on a somewhat hopeful note, but, since we have Fiona's POV, it certainly doesn't appear as if she's pining for him as he is for her. Step-siblings who grew up together turned lovers would be an interesting resolution in a YA book, so I guess I'm not surprised that's not dealt with but only hinted towards. Still...
Fiona reappears in a cameo in Truth-Teller's Tale, as does the briefly glimpsed princess (then queen) Lirabel. And Melinda, Fiona's mother, briefly glimpsed towards the end, appears as a much more major character.
Brief random note -- I liked the detail that the Truth-Teller in this story was named Thomas as a nod to "True Thomas".
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Unrelated: Kushiel's Legacy quiz:
Kushiel's Quiz
You are Joscelin. It is not so much your valor and prowess in battle that sets you apart from all other men as it is your commitment to your honor. Handsome, grim, serious, passionate, you know when to set down your ideals to serve the greater good.
Take this quiz!
Quizilla |
Join | Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code
Heh. And I didn't cheat. And I'm pleasantly surprised that, for once, I'm not just part of the biggest bucket (Joscelin = 10%, vs. Phedre = 34%, Melisande = 15%, Alcuin = 19%, Ysandre = 15%, and only Hyas has less, with 7%)
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Also, a Barquiel L'Envers drabble. This was neat to come across, because Barquel was my favorite non-major character in the original trilogy, and my main complaint about Kushiel's Scion was that it didn't have enough Barquiel in it, and what it did have was sadly... one-dimensional.
**
Also, Friday Five meme gacked from aome, only a few days late.
1. Who is your favorite HP couple? (And I mean ACTUAL couple, not ship!)
I have a fondness for James/Lily and Lucius/Narcissa, but since we never actually see them interacting *as couples* those visions of them are all fanon. Actual couple we see "onscreen" as it were? Ron/Hermione.
2. Which would you rather see: a continuation of Harry's life post-Hogwarts, or a prequel about the original Order of the Phoenix?
Continuation of Harry's life post-Hogwats, provided it's both sufficiently exciting and also shows him and friends actually growing up noticeably. Original Order stories would be pretty depressing, I'd guess, seeing as so many major characters end up dying fairly young.
3. Who is the bigger jerk: Fudge or Scrimgeour?
Fudge. Given a choice between an incompetent jerk and a competent one, I'll take the competent one, if he's supposed to be on my side.
4. What form would your Patronus take?
I dunno... I've mentioned elsewhere that I'm convinced my "real" daemon would be a rat... and that is the animal I feel the most affinity for. But a rat is not very Patronus-like, for all the other sterling qualities of this animal. The animal which, to me, signifies strength, power, all those good things is a tiger, so possibly that. Or maybe a boa constrictor? I liked to play at being Kaa when I was a kid, and he is a kind of protector figure, so that might make sense.
5. Which of the Weasley twins' inventions would you most like to try?
I'm going with aome's answer of Extendable Ears as the one with the best usefulness to possible bodily harm ratio.
20. Steven Brust, Taltos -- so, after the objectively-good-but-rather-unsatisfying Dzur, I was really craving a Morrolan fix, and picked up Taltos and Phoenix (in one volume) when I came across it at the library. I am now quite certain that i have, in fact, read these books before. I am even pretty sure that Taltos was the book that introduced me to the series (though not Dragaera as a whole -- that was The Phoenix Guards, which I read while hanging out in the now-defunct Crown Books where I would duck on my way home from school pretty much every day and spend an hour or more loitering in the SF/Fantasy section, reading. I read quite a few books this way, notably The Princess Bride and Aurian (a much less memorable book than the former, but which did make me think, for the first time, I think, "Hey, I could write epic fantasy better than this!"). Anyway. Taltos.
I really, really prefer young wiseass Vlad, whose motto in life seems to be "[something], but [something], so, what the hell" to the older-and-wiser Vlad of the later books. And as for Morrolan (my favorite character in the series), I pretty much just want to give him a (very courteous) hug, like, continuously. Morrolan trying to keep himself in control while confronted with said wiseass Vlad, assorted gods, the prospect of forfeiting his life, his cousin, snooty Dragonlords, Kieron the Conqueror, getting smacked in the face by branches, and unnamed psych-outs on the Paths of the Dead are precisely the sort of thing I enjoy reading, and Vlad and Morrolan's evolving relationship from their first meeting on is exactly what I wanted to read at this point. (Although, god, I should have never read that Vlad/Morrolan slash, not because it was bad -- some of it certainly wasn't -- but because I will now never be able to un-slash them in my mind. Although, to be honest, the text -- with its mention of Vlad watching Morrolan lick honey off his fingers and wishing he had a goatee, and then, in another scene, remarking that the night they spent camping outdoors was not romantic -- isn't helping with that, really.)
Among non-Morrolan-related things it was good to reconnect with: I shall always be amused by Kragar's invisibility, apparently. Baby Loiosh psionically calling Vlad "Mama" was something I'd completely forgotten and was very glad to rediscover. Oh, and Vlad's teleportation-sickness, which he's been cured off in the last books -- I do so feel for the poor guy.
I love the little bits of worldbuilding in this, distinguishing the two races, that Brust does better than anyone else I've read, I think. Not just the different meanings of "human" that I keep bringing up, subtler things than that, like the fact that Dragaerans have no word for brandy (they call it "wine"), the offhand mention of different growth rates, the mental reminder that Easterners and Dragaerans have different aesthetic sensibilities, when Vlad remarks, e.g. that someone was handsome for a Dragaeran. Of course the different fighting styles and styls of magic (witchcraft vs sorcery), the different size. "Whiskers" as a derogatory term for Easterners. It's just all so well and cleverly put together, even beyond the central themes and all that.
I'm actually even willing to totally overlook one of my pet peeves about fantasy writing, wherein English puns mysteriously work in other languages (e.g. Dragaeran, when Vlad and Morrolan are talking to the cat-centaurs) or in mental communication (between Vlad and Loiosh; although I guess it would depend on how the mental communication is supposed to work).
Speaking of pet peeves, I think one thing Brust does consistently and well is breaking up chunks of magic practitioning into small flashbacks / intermezzo type things, which serve to both give you the flavour of the arcane art being worked and yet not bore you for long stretches of time with nothing happening. (See pet peeve #10, successfully avoided)
Brust does some neat things stylistically that I enjoy, and I feel the need to especially recognize his use of zeugma: "Light crept past a curtain. So did I, finging myself in a room etc." Because zeugma is a favorite word of mine, and more people ought to show it respect and also in their books. (Um... zeugma are hard. Is hard? Anyway, I suck at zeugma, but I did try. Moving on now.)
23. Steven Brust, Phoenix -- OK, this one I remember quite well. And I have a hard time accepting that Taltos and Phoenix were written back-to-back, because there are two such very different books -- Vlad is so, so different in them. And I know I've said this like three times already, but I like young Vlad lots better. And in Phoenix, Vlad who is coming to terms with the disintegration of his marriage, the massacre he finds himself involved in and can't bear to think about, and the end of his old life as a whole is almost painful to read about.
He spends so much of the book (all of it, really, except for the odd kind of resignation and acceptance at the end) frightened and struggling to figure out where he belongs, I... it's not a fun read for me, at all, and there isn't a lot to offset the grimness. Bits of humour, yes, but they just served to remind me of the tone of the earlier books that I missed. I guess it's impressive to have an "action fantasy" book tackle themes such as divorce and revolution (not that the Taltos books are ever brainless reading, but the ones of the series I prefer are lightly written over a foundation of some serious themes), and I liked the way both were handled (like the fact that Vlad thinks the revolutionaries are morons who are good only for talking and aren't terribly useful, while still finding himself in sympathy with their goals -- I don't have much use for revolutionaries myself), but mainly I just wanted the book to end, so that Vlad could stop struggling with this limbo, at least for a time.
There are certainly some bits that I did enjoy, unreservedly. That Noish-pa was more than just mentioned in passing in this book, and that he is shown to have a character beyond a blank mentor figure (this may happen in other books, too, I just don't remember) -- like his inability to kill the female Phoenix Guard and his initial refusal to accept sanctuary from a Dragaeran (nice parallel there, actually, to the way Vlad's father died because he refused the help of Eastern witchcraft), and the way Noish-pa interacts with Vlad's Dragaeran friends. I would haveliked to see more Noish-pa / Morrolan interaction, actually. But I would have liked to see more Morrolan / anyone interaction, really.
As always, I'm impressed with the worldbuilding, and the thorough, molecular way in which it's accomplished. This is true of all the books, but the profusion of foreign flora and fauna offhandedly mentioned (e.g. in the epilogue) is something that I've rarely seen in fantasy, beyond one or two "meaningful" species. It's hard to do, of course, because the reader does not have visual images for these things you name, and it could be (and is, somewhat) disorienting when it doesn't get bogged down in needless stage-setting exposition, but there's a good balance of it. More than in the other two books I (re)read recently, the ubiquitousness of the Houses division jumps out in his one, in lines like "Consider how your wife will react if you find some way to yendi her out of prison, while everyone else stays there." It is such a natural thing to do in English, verbing nouns, and yet I don't think I've seen it used with "foreign" words very often, even when a fantasy work is brimming with italicized "special" nouns for magical objects and the like. Or: "Only Issola live in the Palace" and "Tiassa think walking, Draons think standing, Lyorn think sitting, and Dzur think afterward." Because proverbs are really cool! (I once spent a couple of days just making up random proverbs for my Magnum Opus. I still have them written down somewhere, but the only one I remember offhand is the rather awkward and inane one which went "If a dragon didn't visit you, why are your curtains on fire?" Anyway...)
Other random stuff enjoyed: Vlad's little crush on the Empress, and her admission (?) of having an Eastern lover. Oh, and the refreshing flashback-glimpse of Vlad testifying under the orb about the mysterious death of his former boss.
Also -- what do we know about how psionic contact is established, anyway? I'm wondering because when Vlad is trying to get ahold of Kragar, he just goes, "Kragar. Kragar. Kragar." But when he is trying to reach Morrolan to ask for sanctuary at Castle Black, he thinks, "Morrolan. Funny-talking Dragonlord. Dragaeran witch. Wielder of Blackwand. Morrolan. Morrolan." Also, apparently, you can't tell who is contacting you psionically, because both Kragar and Morrolan have to ask who it is, although Morrolan does guess on his own. So, what was Vlad doing in Morrolan's case? Using phrases that would allow Morrolan to identify him? Or something like scanning psychic frequencies, or proof that Morrolan/Vlad = OTP what?
Note to self: Chronological order of the Vlad Taltos novels, according to Brust himself (this is sort of imprecise, because a number of these have flashbacks and narration by Vlad from one book about events in a previous one, things like that): Taltos, Yendi, Dragon, Jhereg, Teckla, Phoenix, Athyra, Orca, Issola, Dzur. I've read Taltos, Yendi, Jhereg, Teckla, Phoenix, Issola, and Dzur. I *really* want to read Dragon, because it's Morrolan-heavy and contains young Vlad, and should probably try to re-read Jhereg and Yendi when the opportunity arises -- I don't remember those books terribly well either. So it turns out that, other than Dragon, the only Vlad books I haven't read (Athyra and Orca) are the non-Vlad narrated ones, and I'm guessing I will enjoy them a lot less (and I've already spoiled myself for the things in them that are valuable to know).
21. Michael Cadnum, In a Dark Wood -- I first encountered Cadnum via this book of short stories, and was suitably entertained to want to read more of his stuff. This book tells the (sort of) story of Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham from the Sheriff's POV. It wasn't hampered any by the fact that my mental image of the Sheriff is curly-haired, goateed Alan Rickman from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (now, normally, Rickman does *nothing* for me, but in that movie the magical power of the goatee asserted itself, so, yeah.) But, mental images of Alan Rickman aside, I actually did like the book on its own merits. I have no particular fondness for the Robin Hood story (although I loved the Robin Hood ballads as a kid, having read them first in Russian, some in Marshak's translation (I think) and the rest in a little volume borrowed from Pippin's sister one fateful summer, from which I still remember, totally randomly, these words: "Milord, ya staraya vdova\A ty parshivyj pes" [Milord, I'm an old widow\And you're a mangy dog]) -- but the story is told well and somewhat uniquely here. Not so much for the "villain" POV, though that was interesting, but for the writing.
As far as POV goes, Geoffrey the Sheriff is not a villain but a worthy, if somewhat humourless and beleaguered man, fighting to earn the respect of provincial commoners when he would rather be reading books and doing sums, forced by his position to be more cruel than he would like to be, on shaky ground with the king though he is doing his best, and without the worldview or vocabulary to experess affection for those he cares about. It all ends a bit too cheerfully and tidily, though there are some interesting, odd interludes the meaning of which is not clearly spelled out and keeps the ending from being too neat. But I must say that I liked the first portion of the book better, before the Sheriff meets Robin and while he is struggling to tread water with the king's steward, his own men, and his wife.
The writing is interesting, bristling with unusual similes, especially ones where living things are compared to inanimate objects (a crow to a lump of iron, for instance) and many things, animate and inanimate, are compared to body parts, which ties in nicely with authentic-sounding discourse about how the High Way is an extension of the king himself, and the steward acts as part of the king's body, and so forth. There is also some delightfully bizarre but also authentic-sounding discourse between character on the lesson(s) of the bees and the swans, and -- my favorite part -- lots of attention paid to dialectical words used and pronunciation, distinguishing the king steward's cosmopolitan dialect from the locals' rough speech from the lady's nasally Parisian speech from the lady's maid's affectations of same. It's all done with humour and not constantly, so the effect is interesting rather than pedantic, and I really like this sort of stuff.
So, very interesting book, although it did not captivate me personally or engage me too deeply emotionally. The ending's a bit happier than I would have assumed based on how the book starts off -- and I think that weakens the overall book somewhat, it's a bit of a cop-out -- but still very much an enjoyable read. And I think Cadnum now joins the list of writers whose works I'll happily check out virtually regardless of premise.
22. Sharon Shinn, The Safe-Keeper's Secret -- I'm not sure if this is a prequel or the book that was written first, but, in any case, it preceeds The Truth-Teller's Tale, and I actually liked it lots better. Like the other book, it's got hidden identities and elaborate secrets that are revealed in one fell swoop, but I found both much less transparent this time. I think that was mostly because there was a viable alternative provided for what the secret could be (that is, I spent most of the book thinking that one of the secrets was that Fiona would find out that she is the daughter of Thomas, whom she didn't like very much, and that Reed would turn out to be the son of someone from the capital other than the king). There are also some other odd things that could've turned out to be involved in the secret -- like Victoria's history of disappearance / accident and Fiona's antipathy towards her.
In general, this book was much less cutesy and had characters that did not appear to be quite such idiots (at least past the age of ten) as in the previous one. I did have a couple of quibbles -- the setting, era-wise, still feels nebulous to me. It seems to be a standard fantasy (i.e. ~medieval) world, but at the same time there are these modern touches, like most kids in the village going to school, although it's a small village school, and learning math and stuff, which is referred to as "math". That just seemed anachronistic, even if it might not be, I don't know. And Fiona thinking herself in love with someone at ten seemed odd, too -- in general, I thought she and Reed acted as quite a bit older than their years throughout most of the book, except for when Fiona was mentioned to be playing with her dolls. It was just a bit incongruent.
I liked Reed a lot "as a person", and as for Fiona, while I didn't really like her as much, I thought she was an interesting personality choice for a character -- not too perfect and also not too one-dimensional. Her trouble dealing with grief, her general lack of sympathy towards some people, her difficulty sitting on her hands and her struggle with it, and also that she feels she's got a feeling what she will be in life -- and she turns out to be wrong. These are pretty rare traits for a protagonist, and I appreciated them.
The book makes an interesting choice in cutting out before one of the strands/wishes is resolved -- Reed's feelings for Fiona as more-than-sister. It seems to end on a somewhat hopeful note, but, since we have Fiona's POV, it certainly doesn't appear as if she's pining for him as he is for her. Step-siblings who grew up together turned lovers would be an interesting resolution in a YA book, so I guess I'm not surprised that's not dealt with but only hinted towards. Still...
Fiona reappears in a cameo in Truth-Teller's Tale, as does the briefly glimpsed princess (then queen) Lirabel. And Melinda, Fiona's mother, briefly glimpsed towards the end, appears as a much more major character.
Brief random note -- I liked the detail that the Truth-Teller in this story was named Thomas as a nod to "True Thomas".
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Unrelated: Kushiel's Legacy quiz:
Kushiel's Quiz
You are Joscelin. It is not so much your valor and prowess in battle that sets you apart from all other men as it is your commitment to your honor. Handsome, grim, serious, passionate, you know when to set down your ideals to serve the greater good.
Take this quiz!
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Join | Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code
Heh. And I didn't cheat. And I'm pleasantly surprised that, for once, I'm not just part of the biggest bucket (Joscelin = 10%, vs. Phedre = 34%, Melisande = 15%, Alcuin = 19%, Ysandre = 15%, and only Hyas has less, with 7%)
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Also, a Barquiel L'Envers drabble. This was neat to come across, because Barquel was my favorite non-major character in the original trilogy, and my main complaint about Kushiel's Scion was that it didn't have enough Barquiel in it, and what it did have was sadly... one-dimensional.
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Also, Friday Five meme gacked from aome, only a few days late.
1. Who is your favorite HP couple? (And I mean ACTUAL couple, not ship!)
I have a fondness for James/Lily and Lucius/Narcissa, but since we never actually see them interacting *as couples* those visions of them are all fanon. Actual couple we see "onscreen" as it were? Ron/Hermione.
2. Which would you rather see: a continuation of Harry's life post-Hogwarts, or a prequel about the original Order of the Phoenix?
Continuation of Harry's life post-Hogwats, provided it's both sufficiently exciting and also shows him and friends actually growing up noticeably. Original Order stories would be pretty depressing, I'd guess, seeing as so many major characters end up dying fairly young.
3. Who is the bigger jerk: Fudge or Scrimgeour?
Fudge. Given a choice between an incompetent jerk and a competent one, I'll take the competent one, if he's supposed to be on my side.
4. What form would your Patronus take?
I dunno... I've mentioned elsewhere that I'm convinced my "real" daemon would be a rat... and that is the animal I feel the most affinity for. But a rat is not very Patronus-like, for all the other sterling qualities of this animal. The animal which, to me, signifies strength, power, all those good things is a tiger, so possibly that. Or maybe a boa constrictor? I liked to play at being Kaa when I was a kid, and he is a kind of protector figure, so that might make sense.
5. Which of the Weasley twins' inventions would you most like to try?
I'm going with aome's answer of Extendable Ears as the one with the best usefulness to possible bodily harm ratio.