Maresi has grown up in the Red Abbey, on an island inhabited solely by women, a refuge for girls who have no place in their own societies. Some come to the island as refugees, others are sent by their families to benefit from the safety and education afforded by the Abbey. Maresi is on the verge of adulthood, but has not yet found her adult calling. When the island is threatened, Maresi comes into her own. Her destiny is not what she thought it would be.
This is beautifully written, and a beautifully made book. It will sit very happily on my shelves in the company of The Wizard of Earthsea and the Dalemark quartet by Diana Wynne Jones, and I shall look for more Red Abbey Chronicles bye-and-bye.
Edit to note that this may be the first time this year I have read a book in a day, aided by two forty minute train journeys and the lethargy induced by a boozy lunch.
Um. It's a perfectly good book and I enjoyed reading it.
I should stop there. It's not fair to pick at a perfectly good book about which I have no real complaints. But I find myself underwhelmed. I like Novik's Temeraire books for their consideration of multiple different kinds of engagement between humans and dragons, and was hoping for something like that in this book, but I didn't find anything.
Agnieszka, a simple country girl, aged seventeen, deals simply with her simple problems. After she is plucked from her childhood she grows into her magic, saves her friend, wins the war, finds her way home. The landscape is well-realised, people are nice (except when misguided), the magic system is charming, evil is sinister, messy attempts to deal with the evil well conveyed.
On reflection, I think the first person narrative is the problem for me. As a mode of writing it's supposed to provide immediacy and immersion, but focussed through Agnieszka's simplicity I felt detached from the action, and impatient with the characters.
Don't let me stop you reading this if young adult fantasy is your thing. It's perfectly fine. Really. Every age needs its high body count comfort reading.
Did this really win the Nebula? Against Ancillary Mercy? WTF?
This year's plants came from Morrisons and were Sun Cherry and Gardener's Delight - both good.
Amazon seems to be selling projectors with slashed prices so that I could buy one for under £75. (When I looked last year they were £150 or so and up.)
Anyone got any recommendations/warnings? I just want one that will project photos/slides/videos from a laptop (or USB stick would be cool) onto a kitchen wall, so maximum projected image size only needs to be about 5 feet square.
Anyone know why they have suddenly dropped in price, if it's sudden?
The garden was fascinating and there is a virtual tour of it here:
My photos are here:
I can recommend Uppsala for a short break - there were two botanic gardens (I didn't get to the other) and a lovely little museum.
It's a collection of short stories and novellas, with one non-fiction article, published between 1980 and 1990. Stiegler must have made a bit of a name for himself, because he garnered Nebula and Prometheus award nominations in this period. Prior to Brian's recommendation I had never heard of him.
The best story in the book is the title story, The Gentle Seduction, which is copyright 1989. It's Stiegler's take on Vinge's Singularity, it is a classic example of the conversation of science fiction, and if it's not necessarily the best idea in the book it is by far the best executed. Since it is the last story in the collection it went some way to redeem the rest.
I got very frustrated reading the other stories, as Stiegler repeatedly told me his ideas instead of showing them and telegraphed his endings. But it's not the case that he got to be a better writer with time. He is a writer of ideas, and the best of the rest was Petals of Rose (1981), which, in the hands of a better writer, could have been a brilliant story, and in Stiegler's did at least get across unsettling ideas effectively. I suspect if I went back and reread the others again I would have a little more sympathy with him as a writer of ideas, but as it was I spent a lot of time muttering about no-better-than-serviceable writing and flat characterisation. It didn't help me that several of the stories quite nakedly put forward a right-wing political ideology with which I disagree, though that is not a criticism per se.
The article is about hypertext as a tool helping us to achieve Vinge's singularity, and is particularly interesting because it was written from experience of the writer's day job, and as far as I can tell from his website, Stiegler later quit writing fiction to pursue his technical career. These days however it is interesting as a historical document (liam_on_linux you might be interested) and I confess to only skimming it.
In short, not a book I'm particularly inclined to recommend to people, but an interesting read nevertheless.
When it arrives we will plant it near the house, more-or-less where an old plum tree stump used to be that supported ivy until I had it taken out last year. Meantime I will go and buy and spread some well-rotted compost to improve the soil.
I've ordered from Victoriana Nursery, as recommended by Audacious Veg. Sorry RHS. It was your catalogue that inspired the thought, but I don't really need to pay you £65 plus delivery for a tree in a pot when I can pay £20 to a recommended nursery.
This one deals in six brief chapters with ideas of "home", taking in a wide range of homes from (predictably) Frank Lloyd Wright through Winston Smith's flat in 1984 to (less predictably) street life in Bangkok. It is brief, pleasurable, engaging. Sufficiently so that I can in all honesty just recommend you read it, rather than requiring me to take the time to write a full review.
I am minded to work at least some of the homework. I may report back.
The third volume of Walton’s trilogy, Necessity, was finally published this year, so I reread the first two and then read on. To be fair, I really ought to reread Necessity before I write this …
Walton continues her run of books that feel important to me. This trilogy is so many things. It is classic ‘what if’ science fiction based on a ridiculous premise. It is a vigorous argument with and feminist critique of Plato. It is a picture of and an argument for the benefits of a culture that pursues excellence rather than money or glory. It’s a love letter to philosophy and philosophers and art, and perhaps (as was her earlier novel, Among Others) also a love letter to science fiction fandom. It is a strong denunciation of ideology (specifically, religious ideology) as a guide to human action. It is probably other things too, but that will do for now.
I wish I did have time to reread Necessity, because the first two volumes both feel stronger for rereading, and if the third seems weaker by comparison it may just be because it hasn’t benefitted from a reread.
In The Just City the goddess Athene creates the Just City, trying to follow Plato’s instructions in the Republic. What could possibly go wrong? The tale is told by the god Apollo, by one of the Masters who works to build the city, and one of the Children who is brought to the city to be raised from the age of ten to pursue excellence and live justly. The Philosopher Kings picks up the tale to explore what happens when the Children reach maturity and become the ‘philosopher kings’, inheriting and questioning the goals of the previous generation. Finally, in Necessity, we step both forward to another generation and back to the founders of the city to open the story into a wider frame. All ends in the best tradition of science fiction happy endings: there will be a future for the Just City that inherits its past, but it will not be a future that anyone intended.
I loved this trilogy. I would love everyone to read it, and argue with it, and write fan fiction set in Walton’s universe, and use it as a springboard to learning about the history of philosophy and art, and change their lives to pursue excellence and try to live justly. I think I live in a culture that does some of these things, some of the time. I can live in hope that we will do more bye-and-bye.
Subtitled "a story about women and economics" this is a peculiar book. It argues that economics as it is practiced is based on the existence of a fictional "economic man" and that when this collides (as it has) with a culture that defines man and woman and all their qualities in opposition to each other, so that "woman" is excluded from the definition of "economic man", the result is disastrous for our understanding of the world and ourselves, and for the management of our affairs.
It very convincingly contrasts the personal with the political.
I find it a very convincing argument (albeit one with which I am in prior agreement, so am obvioulsy biased), interestingly made, with some very quotable quotes, but you do rather have to fight through the rhetoric to get to it. It is very self-consciously told as a story about a story, and the relatively simple point made by each individual chapter is sometimes somewhat obscured by the telling.
You don't have to read this book to get Marcal's headline point, but there is a lot of interesting detail, interesting (and referenced) facts, and some lovely, and informative, one-liners. It's also very short and to its point, which is useful in a world of bloated texts.
"Seventeen percent of unemployed British women quit their last job in order to care for someone else. For men that figure is one percent." (page 173). That one has a particularly personal resonance for me right now.
She says nothing about solutions. Her story is told to highlight the problems. Solutions are up to us. Recommended for everyone who thinks there is something wrong with the way we allocate resources in this world.
Burgess - A Clockwork Orange
Orwell - Animal Farm AND 1984
Collins - Mockingjay
James - The Children of Men
Roth - Divergent
Mitchell - Cloud Atlas
Atwood - The Handmaid's Tale
Dick - Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep
McCarthy - The Road
And The Giver by Lois Lowry which I have never heard of.
Pity she's not going to read any of them for her A level as she has switched to Further Mathematics. I was quite looking forward to discussing these with her.
We have been reading Lynn Johnston's delightful cartoons since B picked up the first ones and brought them home to me whlle I was pregnant with daughter. We read them to and with daughter as soon as practical, and now it is a family tradition that she gets a new one every birthday and Xmas, on condition that B and I can read them too. If you have a family and are not familar with Johnston's work, may I recommend that you change that state forthwith? The online comic is here: http://www.fborfw.com/
Over the years Johnston has examined family life - at least as it was lived in some Canadian families since the 1970s - from birth to death and in every role and at every stage of life in between. Some aspects are culturally specific, but the minutiae of family life may be fairly universal, and I certainly recognise her characters and situations from my own life and experiences. I rate her alongside Gary Trudeau as a chronicler of the Twentieth Century. After 35 years Johnston is still going strong, and I plan to carry on reading her at least as long as she chooses to carry on drawing.
This very large book took quite a bit of reading, but it was worth it. It comprises 256 large-format pages: a long autobiographical essay by Johnston (62 pages) on how she conceived and developed the For Better or For Worse strip; 66 pages of Sunday colour half-page strips; and 127 pages of black-and-white strips about A Teenager in the House. The latter in particular resonated!
You don't need this particular book to get to know Lynn Johnston's families, and it may not be the best place to start. But for someone who knows them well it was very well worth reading.
I have just leafed through to remember the stories again, and indeed, many of them will be memorable, particularly Salt Wine which I think is an excellent story in all ways and the highlight of the collection. In other cases I fear however that excellent writing is put to less than excellent ends. Don't get me wrong: I immersed myself fully in the stories as I read them, and wept or grinned or triumphed for the characters as led by the story. It is only with hindsight and in memory that I find the tragedies and high emotions rendered somwhat bathetic or mildly absurd.
Perhaps I am no longer the right reader for these kinds of tales. I hope that those who are find and enjoy them while they still can.
Edit: Includes Two Hearts, the sequel story to The Last Unicorn.
House of Flying Daggers is a tragic love triangle, with beautiful costumes, choreography and landscape.
The Wind Rises is a partial biography of a life lived to an ambiguious end. It also has a tragic love affair. It is an animation by Studio Ghibli, and very beautiful.
(I'm finding that as more and more film plots annoy me the look of the film is becoming the thing that I value.)
I don't normally do TV reviews, but considering that TV is getting more hours of my attention than books these days that seems unfair. So, since I'm stuck at home while the handrailer (yes, a word) replaces spindles in the banisters, and had some thoughts last night after watching the final episode of...
Supergirl Season 1 - 20 episodes
Charming YA SF in comic (graphic novel) mode, more than a bit sentimental. Brian has fond memories of Marvel comics and enjoys picking up on the canonical references, which I can't. And I get (at least some of) the celebrity culture jokes, which he doesn't. But we both find it whiles away an enjoyable hour when we are in the mood. Melissa Benoist as Kara/Supergirl is charming in both personas, Mehcad Brooks as Jimmy Olsen is one of the prettiest and nicest men ever, and Calista Flockhart as Cat Grant rocks. All the main characters work for me, though some of the lesser were a bit off. The laws of physics take a bit of a beating, which is fair enough because this is a comic. But if you want women as independently motivated adults to save themselves and the world while being amply supported by (mostly) beautiful men and not too much of the kissy kissy you could do a lot worse. As sf fantasies on tv for women go I like it more than Charmed or Stargate SG1, and although at best it is not as good as the best of Buffy it generally comes off better than the worst. We will be looking for Season 2 when it comes out (in the US in October).
Elementary Season 1 - 24 episodes.
This is a bit odd, I think, but maybe that is just me. It is yet another take on Sherlock Holmes, this time with Sherlock wrestling with his inner demons in New York, and the sidekick is Dr Joan Watson. Again, Brian has detailed knowledge of the literary roots for reference, in the Conan Doyle stories and many of the homages. I have read some of them, but was never that much bothered. Both of us watched Sherlock recently, and having come to dislike that rather a lot we watched the first episode of this with some apprehension. But we found it quite different and liked it enough to carry on.
Each episode of Elementary features Sherlock and Watson using specialist knowledge and deductive reasoning to solve murders, and each episode advances the relationship between Sherlock and Watson, though the balance between murder and relationship varies from episode to episode. If I had to guess I'd say that across the series about a quarter of the dialogue is between Sherlock and Watson about their personal preoccupations and the relationship between them, and about a third between them about the case-of-the-week, with all the rest of the characters and exposition fitted into the remainder. Brian likes the deductive reasoning. I like the relationship and tensions between Sherlock and Watson. Both of us like the speciailist knowledge. I'm not sure the mix actually gels together all that well. In particular, there is usually one or more set pieces where someone, usually Sherlock but sometimes Watson or one of the policemen, explain to the murderer what they did and why - this often comes across as hurried and unconvincing. Nevertheless, I enjoy each episode, although I'm not blown away.
I enjoy the way the characters are drawn. Sherlock is very stiff and abrupt, and speaks in (more-or-less) British grammar, which I like both as a reference to the original stories and as a way of characterising him. He wears tight formal shirts with button-down collars when he's out and about. At home we see him working out doing strength exercises: crunches and planks. Watson, by contrast is a native New Yorker, speaks in soft tones, and is very fluid and flexible. She wears workout gear at home, and does yoga. She goes out in mini dresses with soft cardigans and high heeled boots. I like Watson well enough, and don't actually like Sherlock very much; but then, you are not supposed to.
Most of the sets are pretty standard (for tv) urban exteriors and interiors. But the two spend a lot of time in the brownstone house they share, and here the camera lingers, sepia toned, on wooden floors and and the pattern of light and shadow from the sun, tv screens and fire; on Sherlock seated with his back to the camera tracking five tv screens simultaniously; on Watson framed in doorways or seated cross-legged on the hearthrug, back to the fire. Think Dutch interiors paintings: Vermeer and the like. I've found that the images stay in my mind long after the dialogues and plots are forgotten. Like Breaking Bad, the visuals are a major reason why I have been happy to stick with the series, and maybe even tip the balance between staying and leaving when other aspects do not quite convince.
So off we went for an evening in London like the ones we used to have when we were young. We took train and tube to Westminster, and walked along Horse Guards parade enjoying the summer evening (the Queen has beautiful gardens: https://www.flickr.com/gp/57536449@N07/5
There was some stunning stuff on display, not just by Jackie. Some of the works are shown on the SWA website (http://www.society-women-artists.org.uk/a
And I was particularly and personally pleased by the work of Cathy Read, who has been wandering round the City and seeing some of the same things I see, and painting some of them. She had three paintings in the show, but the one that caught my attention is shown on her website. Do go take a look - you'll see what I mean. http://cathyreadart.com/
And do go and see Jackie's hawk if you can. The exhibition is on until
Bill Bryson - A Short History of Nearly Everything
Margery Fisher - ...Intent Upon Reading
Iain Banks - The Quarry
Terry Pratchett - Snuff
Yell quickly because off to the charity shop they go next week.