[Book Reviews] Long overdue!
While looking for "Unarmed Fighting Techniques of the Samurai", I stumbled across Donn Draeger's "Classical Bujutsu: The Martial Arts and Ways of Japan, Volume One". I bought volumes one and two (two is "Classical Budo: The Martial Arts and Ways of Japan, Volume Two"), and I'm very pleased. I now regret not getting three; we'll see if he still has it next time I go back to that bookstore. Despite one really offputting remark near the beginning of Vol. 1 (history books written in the seventies, not so big on the political correctness), I really wish I had read these books several years earlier. They provide a concise roadmap to the development and evolution of Japanese martial traditions, from early feudal times on through the nineteenth century. There are plenty of helpful illustrations, but Draeger's focus is on the historical context and development of the arts, not on the history of any particular school, weapon, or technique. The first volume discusses the use of the various weapons and appurtenances in a military-history sort of context, the second is more a historical reflection on the development of "way" schools after the introduction of the firearm proved so devastating. Taken together, they provide a useful and thought-provoking line of thought. Many martial arts books have affected how I practice; these have affected how I think about practicing. They're big-picture books; five farmers with a firearm out of five.
I picked up Stephanie Grant's "Map of Ireland" at Powells. Sadly, it falls into the giant bin of lesbian fiction that just does nothing for me. (I keep *wanting* to like it. I keep not liking it.) Part of that might be that I'm burned out on coming-of-age stories and coming-out stories; works don't seem so amazingly fresh when you realize that your big revelation was pretty much just like everybody else's. Part of it, too, was my dislike for the protagonist. I like main characters that I find sympathetic, or at least fascinatingly evolved. The protagonist here was mostly young and confused, and didn't handle herself well accordingly. I appreciate how the author was trying to take on the issues of prejudice and community, but it just didn't work for me -- I wanted to tell the protagonist to come back and tell this story in ten years. One confused teenager out of five.
Fortunately, I did very much enjoy Elizabeth Bear's "Whiskey and Water". The sequel to her earlier fey-Noo-Yawk novel "Blood and Iron", she has complex characterization, an interesting and well-done system of magic, and a moderately unpredictable plot. I particularly enjoyed the "what happened next" fulfillment of the book, as you get to see actual aftermath of the cataclysmic events (in "Blood and Iron") so beloved of most fantasy writers. There's a little bit of grit in the glitter. You might lose a tooth. It does pretty much require having read the earlier book to have any idea what's going on, but having done so, I had a rollicking good time. Four enchanted sewer rats out of five.
For your obligatory mystery quota, I enjoyed the latest Jim Chee novel, Tony Hillerman's "The Sinister Pig". There was less cultural setting and more geography in this book than in most of the Jim Chee series, so I didn't feel like I learned as much. (I'm pretty familiar with corrupt politicians and drug-running gang lords as villains.) However, the descriptions of the countryside and the local politics involved in chasing down cases with multiple responsible law enforcement agencies were interesting, if painful at times. Other than the denouement, there were no big surprises in here, but I did pass an enjoyable two hours with the book, so that's something. Three pipe scrubbing devices out of five.
I continue to dig David Wingrove's sci-fi epic of Chung Kuo. Set in a world where China has become the globally dominant culture, cities sprawl across continents, and colonies stretch to moons and Mars, Wingrove does an excellent job of bringing out cultural and political tensions on his future world. The tech doesn't make me cry, either. "White Moon, Red Dragon" is the second-to-last book in his seven book arc. Colonial war, an AI sentient network, the fall of a revisionist empire, and of course, the obligatory Go master all feature. I very much enjoy the characterization at work; I really care about what happens to many of these people. (Okay, and I want a few of them to meet horrible deaths. That happens too.) Creeps, cyborgs, and war -- I'm sad that there's only one book left. The series took me a bit to get into, but it was worth the wait. Four Moon Dragons out of five.
I finally managed to read a version of the Boudica story without being mad for the next week. (I can take history personally every so often.) Diana Paxson's "Ravens of Avalon" is historical fantasy, but it's well researched. While it's definitely set in the Avalon mythos and therefore has to follow the precedents thereof, the details of the time period were clearly checked against the historical and archaeological record and added realism and veritas to the plot. (Probably only really helpful if you're a particular flavor of nerd, but it mattered to me.) Much like "Titanic", you know what has to happen at the end, and you can see it coming a million miles away, but it can still be a bit wrenching when it does. In part, this is a story about unfairness and anger, and about what happens when you call on a deity and don't get what you desperately wanted to get. The theme is brought out through several characters over the course of the story, and you can see the foreshadowing of the inevitable coup at the end. It can be a painful book to read, not because it's done poorly, but because you want the "good guys" to win, and you know they're not going to. The book induces pondering; four corvids on the pallid bust of Pallas Boudica out of five.
I picked up Stephanie Grant's "Map of Ireland" at Powells. Sadly, it falls into the giant bin of lesbian fiction that just does nothing for me. (I keep *wanting* to like it. I keep not liking it.) Part of that might be that I'm burned out on coming-of-age stories and coming-out stories; works don't seem so amazingly fresh when you realize that your big revelation was pretty much just like everybody else's. Part of it, too, was my dislike for the protagonist. I like main characters that I find sympathetic, or at least fascinatingly evolved. The protagonist here was mostly young and confused, and didn't handle herself well accordingly. I appreciate how the author was trying to take on the issues of prejudice and community, but it just didn't work for me -- I wanted to tell the protagonist to come back and tell this story in ten years. One confused teenager out of five.
Fortunately, I did very much enjoy Elizabeth Bear's "Whiskey and Water". The sequel to her earlier fey-Noo-Yawk novel "Blood and Iron", she has complex characterization, an interesting and well-done system of magic, and a moderately unpredictable plot. I particularly enjoyed the "what happened next" fulfillment of the book, as you get to see actual aftermath of the cataclysmic events (in "Blood and Iron") so beloved of most fantasy writers. There's a little bit of grit in the glitter. You might lose a tooth. It does pretty much require having read the earlier book to have any idea what's going on, but having done so, I had a rollicking good time. Four enchanted sewer rats out of five.
For your obligatory mystery quota, I enjoyed the latest Jim Chee novel, Tony Hillerman's "The Sinister Pig". There was less cultural setting and more geography in this book than in most of the Jim Chee series, so I didn't feel like I learned as much. (I'm pretty familiar with corrupt politicians and drug-running gang lords as villains.) However, the descriptions of the countryside and the local politics involved in chasing down cases with multiple responsible law enforcement agencies were interesting, if painful at times. Other than the denouement, there were no big surprises in here, but I did pass an enjoyable two hours with the book, so that's something. Three pipe scrubbing devices out of five.
I continue to dig David Wingrove's sci-fi epic of Chung Kuo. Set in a world where China has become the globally dominant culture, cities sprawl across continents, and colonies stretch to moons and Mars, Wingrove does an excellent job of bringing out cultural and political tensions on his future world. The tech doesn't make me cry, either. "White Moon, Red Dragon" is the second-to-last book in his seven book arc. Colonial war, an AI sentient network, the fall of a revisionist empire, and of course, the obligatory Go master all feature. I very much enjoy the characterization at work; I really care about what happens to many of these people. (Okay, and I want a few of them to meet horrible deaths. That happens too.) Creeps, cyborgs, and war -- I'm sad that there's only one book left. The series took me a bit to get into, but it was worth the wait. Four Moon Dragons out of five.
I finally managed to read a version of the Boudica story without being mad for the next week. (I can take history personally every so often.) Diana Paxson's "Ravens of Avalon" is historical fantasy, but it's well researched. While it's definitely set in the Avalon mythos and therefore has to follow the precedents thereof, the details of the time period were clearly checked against the historical and archaeological record and added realism and veritas to the plot. (Probably only really helpful if you're a particular flavor of nerd, but it mattered to me.) Much like "Titanic", you know what has to happen at the end, and you can see it coming a million miles away, but it can still be a bit wrenching when it does. In part, this is a story about unfairness and anger, and about what happens when you call on a deity and don't get what you desperately wanted to get. The theme is brought out through several characters over the course of the story, and you can see the foreshadowing of the inevitable coup at the end. It can be a painful book to read, not because it's done poorly, but because you want the "good guys" to win, and you know they're not going to. The book induces pondering; four corvids on the pallid bust of Pallas Boudica out of five.