Posts Tagged 'Books'

The Reading List

I haven’t done one of these lately, and it feels as though my reading list has accumulated a bit too much. Recently, I’ve picked up and finished A Handmaiden’s Tale, The Stars My Destination, and New Scientists’ Arc 1.1, all of which were very good. Here’s what I’m currently reading:

Fiction:

The Quantum Thief, by Hannu Rajaniemi: This one’s one that I’ve had my eyes on for a little while, but it was a review from Charlie Stross that got me more interested in reading it. It’s gotten very good reviews from all over, which is great for a first novel, although his writing style isn’t the greatest for an impatient and fast reader like me – I’m having to slow down for fear of missing things.

Roadside Picnic, by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky: io9 recently pointed this one out in a book review, and I loved the premise. It’s a fascinating read, and from a science fiction era that I’m really not familiar with: Cold War Soviet SF. So far, I’m really enjoying it.

The Nemesis List, by R.J. Frith: I came across this one randomly right before the wedding, when I was supposed to be buying wedding gifts for people. I’d never heard of it, despite the plot, and picked it up on a whim. So far, it’s not impressing me, reminding me a lot of The Gravity Pilot in terms of writing style.

Throne of the Crescent Moon, by Saladin Ahmed: I’ve heard almost nothing but good things about this novel, and decided it was about time to sink into it. On the way back from the Wedding, Megan and I stopped by Flights of Fantasy in Albany, NY, where I found it. Enjoyed the first couple of chapters.

Redshirts: A Novel with Three Codas, by John Scalzi: I’ve been waiting to get to this one since it was announced. I enjoyed Scalzi’s last novel, Fuzzy Nation, and this looks to be pretty similar in style and tone, and having a nice, breezy novel to blow through will be excellent.

Nonfiction:

Spacesuit: Fashioning Apollo, by Nicholas de Monchaux: This book rocks. It’s absolutely stunning in its detail, covering the creation of the space suits used in Apollo, but taking in a greater view of the space race as it does so.

The Unforgiving Minute: A Soldier’s Education, by Craig M. Mullaney: Megan recommended this one to me as I was doing some writing, and it’s an interesting read thus far, looking at the education of a West Point soldier who went on to Iraq.

Learning to Eat Soup with a Knife: Counterinsurgency Lessons from Malaya and Vietnam, by John A. Nagl: This one’s one that I’ve been picking away at for a couple of months. It’s a short but dense book on counterinsurgency. Very enlightening.

Currently Reading

I have a feeling that my reading will become a little more convoluted in a bit when I have a couple of reviewer copies coming in, and with a couple of books on the docket right at the moment, with some others in the queue, I need to get my head straight.

Battle: The Story of the Bulge, by John Toland

This is a definitive history of the Battle of the Bulge, one that I’m reading and referencing for the Battle of the Bulge project that I’ve been working on. I’ve also read through Gen. (RET) Ernest Harmon’s Combat Commander and John Eisenhower’s The Bitter Woods, which is yielding a lot of really good, detailed information on the strategic nature of the battle, but also some of the tactical elements as well. It’s helping me fill in a number of blanks with some of the units that I’m currently researching. Toland’s book is detailed, readable and very interesting.

Blackout, by Connie Willis

This is a book that I’ve had my eye on for a little while, and I bumped it up the list after trying – and failing – to get through Catherynne Valente’s The Habitation of the Blessed. Keeping with the World War II theme, this story follows a couple of 2060 Oxford history students who have been going back in time to study various points. Things are starting to heat up a bit, and the book is moving along nicely. I can’t wait to get further through it.

Matterhorn, by Karl Marlantes

This is lauded as one of the best books to come out about Vietnam ever. I met (and got to talk with) Mr. Marlantes when he was presented the Colby Award for the novel – it’s awarded to an outstanding first work dealing with military matters, and it joins a prestigious group of books. It’s based loosely on his experiences in Vietnam, and while it’s a big book, I’m taking my time with this one, taking in the language and the story. It’s quite something so far.

Welcome To The Greenhouse: New Science Fiction On Climate Change, edited by Gordon Van Gelder

This book is one that caught my eye and I’m set to review it once I finish it. It covers what I’m predicting will be the next wave or dominant theme of science fiction: global warming (along the same lines that the Cold War dominated science fiction) and while some of the stories here haven’t been that great, there have been some outstanding ones. I think thus far, the anthology succeeds when the stories are well grounded in reality, and I hope that the stories coming up are like that.

Coming up after this batch of books are a couple of new books that came in yesterday: Catherynne Valente’s Deathless and John Scalzi’s Fuzzy Nation, along with Jack Campbell’s latest addition, Dreadnaught, in his Lost Fleet series, as well as Spectyr, by Philippa Ballantine, all slated for reviews over the next month or so. Along with those, there are a couple of other books that I want to tackle after that: Ian M. Bank’s Use of Weapons is one that’s high up on the list, as well as William Gibson’s Spook Country (and eventually, Zero History), as well as N.K. Jemisin’s The Broken Kingdom. China Mieville’s upcoming novel, Embassytown, is also high up there, with a number of good reviews already.

There’s also a couple of non-fiction books that I’d like to get to. I need to get through to Footprints in the Dust, edited by Colin Burgess, about the Apollo 12-17 missions back in the 1970s, part of the Outward Odyssey series. I’ve fallen off that bandwagon for a little while as I read Ambassadors from Earth, and was put off by the horrid text, but this one looks like it’ll interest me a bit more. I’ve picked up a couple of other books as well: John Keegan’s First World War (A war I know precious little about), Thucydides, about the study of history and the upcoming Falling to Earth, by Francis French, about astronaut Al Worden.

There’s a lot more beyond that, but it’s a start.

The Lifecycle of Software Objects

Ted Chiang’s longest work to date, The Lifecycle of Software Objects, is a fascinating story that takes a bit of a new look at how an artificial intelligence might develop. The story is understated, quiet and humble, but is exciting and touching at the same time. This was a story that I absolutely devoured in a single sitting that stretched late into the night, something that rarely happens with any story.

The book’s description includes a quote from Alan Turing that helps to set this story apart from other robot stories:

“Many people think that a very abstract activity, like the playing of chess, would be best. It can also be maintained that it is best to provide the machine with the best sense organs that money can buy, and then teach it to understand and speak English. This process could follow the normal teaching of a child. Things would be pointed out and named, etc. Again I do not know what the right answer is, but I think both approaches should be tried.”

The story follows Ana Alvarado and Derek Brooks as their own lives intertwines over the course of a decade. Software AI has been achieved, and is a growing industry at the start of the novella, one that changes as the story progresses. Fans of stories such as I, Robot or other reads about robotics will find this to be a vastly different type of story, and for that reason, it’s very refreshing. Working to create Digients, a sort of artificial intelligence profile or avatar online, we see the introduction of Jax, Marco and Polo, who essentially grow up under the care of Ana and Derek.

Fiction is a product of our own lives and surroundings. Lifecycles is a good example of how Chiang was able to take a very old story type (Man creating life himself) and create something that feels new and fresh. Very often, our perceptions of robotics are shaped by dramatic presentations such as The Terminator, or The Matrix, stories that predict that the rise of a robotic race will automatically deduce that the human race will be pegged for extinction. Similarly, it’s also assumed that a comprehensive knowledge and sheer logical reasoning will prove to be a superior mind.

Chiang takes on the other side suggested by Turing in his approach to the development of an artificial intelligence, which strikes me as a far more realistic method for developing a viable computer intelligence: you make them grow up. This happens over the decade that the story takes place, but it’s far more complicated than that. In other stories, there’s never really a reason for creating a robot, or at the very least, there’s no reason given for developing a new mind. Here, it’s very much the same thing, but the reasons are stark: it’s a business, and there’s little demand for highly realistic artificial avatars that talk back or cause problems as they’re developing.

The important thing here is that there are some major philosophical issues at the heart of any sort of AI, especially when one is assuming that it will be a being along the same lines of a human: can they be purpose driven, or is there any intent to their design? Religious arguments aside, I don’t see any particular purpose to human beings, just a happy accident of chemistry and circumstances at the right time billions of years ago. So to, would a machine guided by rigid logical programming be the same thing? I think not, although the appearance could be replicated somewhat with fast programming.

Intelligence is also complicated: it’s not just that a robot would have to have 700 million languages at its disposal, or whatever actions pre-programmed into it: any such being really isn’t truly free as people seem to be. Rather, complicated intelligence (and this is from my own limited understanding) comes more with the ability to draw connections between different, unrelated things. Driving along one route, I try to infer what lies between another road that’s running parallel to me, based on what I can see in between the two locations. My dog sees my sister and realizes that not only is she outside, but that if she runs to the window, she’ll see her as she runs down into the yard. These types of responses aren’t ones that I can’t see being rigidly programmed into a computer, but are things that will learned from experience.

Interestingly, the book has far more in common with another, slightly lesser known story from Isaac Asimov (and film adaptation), The Bicentennial Man, which sees a robot learn to become a human, going to the extreme and replacing metal for flesh. I greatly enjoyed the movie (I’ve never understood the hate that it seems to elicit), and The Lifecycle of Software Objects takes some similar lines of reasoning and does them in a far better fashion.

Set amongst a sort of tech boom that would be familiar to anyone who used the internet since the 1990s, companies come and go, but the people remain, and find their own way through life. In a large way, the cover is exceedingly deceptive here, because this isn’t a story about robots, it’s a story about people who deal with robots, and one another. Chiang does a marvelous job here, setting the lives of two people in a mere thirty thousand words, where things never feel like they are rushed or that anything major has been glossed over.

Where there’s the approach to growing an intelligence, there’s a lot to be said for the people on the other side of the equation. As we watch the trio of Digients grow up in their own little world (and a times, jumping into a robot body that their owners have for them), it’s apparent that they’re as much a product of their parents than their surroundings, and that frequently, their upbringing has as much an impact on themselves as it does their caretakers. What I found most fascinating is that this isn’t really a story about robots at all: they’re central to the plot, but the real point here is in the long relationship between Ana and Derek, and how two people who are so similar can be so far apart and estranged from one another. It’s a love story in its own right, between the two humans, but also for a parent for their creation. In doing so, Chiang presents an interesting idea that robots and artificial intelligences wouldn’t be so different from us, and that the creation of an AI isn’t any different than parenting.

The story is also available online, here.

The Hunger Games

Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games one of the latest young adult novels that’s made a huge splash. The book’s trilogy has recently finished up with Mockingjay, and a movie is currently in the works. Young adult fiction is experiencing a boom right now, with a lot of attention paid towards the genre since Harry Potter reinvigorated things over the last ten years. Even more for the books, a number of the recent hits steer very closely towards the speculative fiction side of the house, from Harry Potter to Twilight to the Hunger Games.

Coming highly recommended after I had finished up another YA novel (Ship Breaker, by Paolo Bacigalupi) last year, Collins’ novel is a straightforward affair that is both dark but hitting all of the proper high points for the teen readers that this is steered towards.

Set in an indeterminate future in North America, the United States has ceased to exist, replaced with a nation called Panem after a devastating war. Ruled by an autocratic Capitol, 13 districts around the country have become incredible specialized, providing the nation with specific goods. The story’s heroine, Katniss Everdeen, hails from District 12 and becomes involved with a yearly spectacle called The Hunger Games.

Every year, two children, Tributes, are selected at random from each district and brought to the Capitol. There, they are brought into an arena where they fight to the death. Following the creation of Panem, a rebellion from the 13 districts was quashed, and in retaliation, the Capitol demonstrated its grasp over its subjects through the games.

The idea came out of channel surfing as Collins flipped between reality television and coverage of the recent Iraq war. The result is a horrific combination of events, where children are forced to kill one another on live television. The book, as the title suggests, covers Katniss’s experiences in the arena, as she shoots, stabs and otherwise works to survive, while the wealthy residents of the Capital and other districts watch on.

I’ve begun to understand the rise of Young Adult fiction over the past couple of years: it’s a very clear-cut way to get across a story with very clear morals. Working at the bookstore years ago, it’s easy to ridicule the housewives who came in gushing about Twilight, but I get it now: the books aren’t complicated in the stories that they tell, but have a number of interesting teaching points throughout.

The Hunger Games very much falls into this category. Where I expected some elements of ethics on killing your fellow tributes, this wasn’t as clear cut as I’d anticipated. Katniss teams up with her fellow District 12 tribute towards the end, and allies herself with others with mutual goals. The result is a story of trust, friendship and quite a bit of violence.

The story wanders at points – like the character, I lost track of time in the story as she wandered back and forth, trying to survive, and the prose leaves a bit to be desired at other points. But, the tale is a fantastic dystopian story that is both exciting and engaging, and while I’m not sure that I’ll get to books 2 and 3 at any point soon, it’s a story that I’d recommend.

The Future of Publishing?

SF Signal has an excellent topic this week for their mind-meld, a gathering of experts in the field who commentate on a common subject. This week’s topic looks to the future of a field that’s central to the speculative fiction genres: Publishing. The responses are well worth looking at and reading over, especially for those who are interested in writing professionally, or for fans who are wondering where their fix will be coming from next.

The short answer consensus seems to be that publishing, books, stories and everything isn’t going anywhere, but the field will see major changes in book distribution and creation, not to mention the publishing rights of authors. eBooks and dedicated readers seem to have thrown most everyone through a loop as they scramble to figure out just what’s going on, and trying to make their best guesses on where the industry will step next, which is in turn dependent on a number of factors outside of the publishing industry’s control.

To be fair, books have had their own share of issues throughout recent memory, although the challenges here are a bit bigger. The 1980s and early 1990s saw a massive amount of consolidation of bookstores as major chains worked their way into existence, causing quite a lot of soul searching and closings of independent bookstores as a result. The bigger stores seem to have met their match as Amazon.com roared past them, because it could do things differently, and better than a physical bookstore. With eBooks, the troubles come as established markets find that their models for selling books is potentially undermined by an entirely new way to sell books, bringing in a number of new challenges and opportunities to the publishing world.

Every single online conversation about books seems to turn to the eBook market, with people coming down on two sides: “I LOVE EBOOKS, I READ SO MANY OF THEM!” and the “I LIKE THE SMELL OF PAPER AND THE WEIGHT OF THE BOOK IN MY HANDS!” crowds, both of which miss a major point: all that the platform does as function, whether physical or a computer, is content delivery. The same book exists in both realms, and as Lou Anders points out: “… it’s always been about the content, not the delivery mechanism.” Publishers have an extra option that just didn’t exist in any major way, and they are slowly waking up to the possibilities that electronic books will allow. The popularity of eBook readers is a good thing, I think.

The move to electronic formats does allow for a split between hard-copy ‘traditional’ books, and eBooks in ways that really hasn’t been touched on yet. When I attended ReaderCon, one presenter, Leah Bobet, noted that there are impressive things that electronic books can do: interactive features, links to relevant content and ways to read books in very different ways than we can now. Cheryl Morgan notes the very same thing this time around: essentially special features that can get tacked on to what you’re reading. With that line of thinking, books are poised to change a lot: multiple editions of the bigger books, with stripped down text for those who just want the story, or special features for the top of the line products. Some books already have these sorts of incentives: interviews with authors, reading guides, and previews of upcoming novels.

Despite this, I don’t think that hard-copy books will go away any time soon. There is enough market demand for hard-copy books, and the medium has had a long, long head start on the eBook revolution, which is still working its way through its early days. EBooks are certainly popular, and will grow to be even more so as the market shakes out the big obstacles. I suspect that we’ll see the end of dedicated eBook readers such as the Nook and the Kindle (sorry, Barnes and Noble and Amazon), in favor of multiple use devices such as the iPad, or dedicated eBook readers such as the Sony Digital Reader as a universal format is adopted by stores and publishers alike. The ability to read a book on multiple devices, I think, will be more important that the actual proprietary hardware that we have now. This is a lesson that online magazines are finding, and I suspect that while the Kindle has a good run right now, it’ll become a bit more open and accepting of other formats.

While e-readers might become a bit more open, I can see exclusivity remaining, becoming a major factor in how stories are sold, coupled with how chain stores might try to stay in the game. A couple of years ago, Borders released an exclusive book through their stores. I was a bookseller at the time, and this was a book that had been pushed quite heavily, and through the company’s efforts, it did fairly well, although I can’t figure out what the title of the book was or who the author was. The experiment doesn’t seem to have been as much of a success, because I haven’t seen anything like it since then (although I’m not quite in the same loop as I was before), but I think it’s an idea that has merit, and that it’ll be experimented with again.

There’s little doubt that major book sellers are having their own issues at the moment: too much stock, not enough of it selling, and it’s likely that we’ll see Borders fail in the next couple of years, if not sooner. Amazon and Barnes and Noble, I suspect, are going to be far better off because of their own efforts to integrate web sales and ebook readers earlier than their competitors. These are large organizations that nobody wants to see fail: the loss of a major bookstore is something that authors and publishers don’t want, because of the potential to reach a large number of loyal customers, and the companies themselves don’t want to die off. The chain stores are here to stay, I suspect, despite the swan songs of their demise, simply because they have the potential to sell a lot of books to a lot of people. They might be facing some major changes, but I would doubt that we’ll see the current companies die off, or at least not without some sort of replacement in one form or another.

If there’s anything that the Kindle has demonstrated, it’s that exclusive things do work: the Kindle’s done quite well, and where Borders has attempted their own exclusive things, I would predict that the major bookstores, in their efforts to stay relevant, will move a bit into the publishing field. It makes a bit of sense: they have experience with the market and the books that they know work. The only piece that’s missing is that they are only an outlet. Moving to begin selling their own books (Barnes and Noble already sells its own editions of a number of classics) would allow them to drum up a reason for people to come to their stores. Imagine if an author such as John Grisham or a similarly well-exposed author came out with a book that only sold at Barnes and Noble, published exclusively through them: it couldn’t be sold through Amazon.com or other competitors, and would get a fair amount of visibility through internal marketing and so forth. I can imagine that there would be a bit of anger from other authors, author groups and other stores, but large groups of dedicated readers would buy them. The trickle-down effect would be slow, with other authors jumping on if it works, and other bookstore chains copying the idea, slowly opening it up to more and more people, splitting the market up a bit, and giving the chains a bit of an edge over juggernauts such as Amazon.com.

There are a lot of assumptions here: the internet might not be the same, and as some people noted, the idea of net neutrality is slowly dying and the internet is changed radically. I don’t know that it’ll be as bad or as better than what people are imagining now, but major changes in how the internet works will spell major changes in how books are sold: another reason why physical books might remain longer than expected from those already writing their obituaries.

But, as has been stated already: the mediums in which books are sold are merely content delivery systems that bring the stories to the reader. Regardless of how that plays out, there is plenty of demand for books, and as such, I’ve little doubt that there will need to be in place editorial and distribution elements for the serious efforts. One thing is for sure: we’re in for an interesting ride.

Hull Zero Three

Greg Bear’s book Hull Zero Three opens much the same way as any number of science fiction thrillers: someone awakes, enclosed in a stasis booth, and finds themselves in a strange situation. Pandorum, Avatar, Pitch Black, Supernova and others all have this as a bit of a start to the film, to varying degrees, a cold open to the story. This book is no different, and our main character is ripped from his dream-state and out into a cold and hostile environment. The resulting book is straightforward, fast and overall, a decent read.

Hull Zero Three was a book that I’ve been interested in reading, if anything because I’ve never read a Greg Bear book, and it represented a bit of a change of pace compared to what I’ve been reading recently. This book falls between the space opera, hard science fiction and horror as the protagonist, simply known as Teacher. He meets up with a strange assortment of fellow characters as they escape through the ship to find out not only what the ship’s purpose is, but what theirs is as well.

The easiest comparison can be made between this book and the film Pandorum, where the book gets all of the things that the film missed. Where the film missed huge plot points that could have made it a great film, Hull Zero Three gets them, in a way. The ship (known only as Ship) is a generational ship, one designed to seed a far-away star with life. The reasons are never really disclosed, but they don’t matter here – the ship is moving forward, and along the way, problems crop up.

This is where the book is at its best, with some of the exposition and background to the story. The ship was created, sent out to the Oort Cloud to capture a moonlet, and then off to a far off world in which to continue earth-based life. Somewhere along the way, it’s discovered that the planet is inhabited, and this is where the fun begins: do you colonize the planet at the risk of overcoming the life that’s already there? In this case, the civilization on the planet attacked the ship, damaging it and setting much fo the story into action.

At points, I was confused as to what was happening throughout the story. Bear pulls the reader through as one fumbles through a tunnel. There’s no frame of reference for the main characters or the reader, and that adds a certain thrill to trying to find out what’s happening with the story as a whole. Many of the interesting parts of the book happen before the story actually takes place, and we’re left with a glorified hunt and search on the part of our characters to learn what their purpose in life is.

The interesting part of the story doesn’t come until the end, after Teacher and the other mutated and purposed people discover the dangers of the ship, and come across a power-struggle that seems to have caused additional damage to the ship between Mother and the Destination Guidance team, who saw conflicting interpretations of their orders: preserve human life. One saw their best option as the selected planet, while the other wanted to go on and try somewhere else. The result is a civil war on the ship, and the book comes down to one of its fundamental points: how do you program ethics?

Teacher, and all of his companions were produced and copied from Mother. In the case of some of the people, they were designed with very specific purposes – teaching, cleanup, killing, protection, etc. While they are designed specifically for a purpose, there are gaps where they question their own existence and purpose. It’s an interesting element to the story, and while it was a bit of unexpected depth, it wasn’t enough to really dazzle me as a brilliant story. At the end of the day, Hull Zero Three was a fun, light read, one that is a better version of similar stories, but one that I found myself wishing that other parts of the story had gotten more attention.

The Dervish House

Last year, I picked up Ian McDonald’s fantastic science fiction novel River of Gods and loved his take on an India of the future. With his latest book, The Dervish House, McDonald relocates to Turkey of 2027. Rarely do I come across a book that absolutely floors me, and where River of Gods really impressed me, The Dervish House completely bowled me over with its interconnecting storylines, fantastic prose and wonderful characters.

Set in Istanbul, the book starts off with a literal bang as a suicide bomber blows her head off. The only casualty, the bomber seems to have failed, and the attack starts off a week that sees a heat wave over the city. There are five separate story lines to keep track of throughout the book: Can, a young boy with a heart condition who’s treatment leaves him deafened and sequestered away at home, Georgios Ferentinou, a retired professor of experimental economics, who sees danger in the growing nanotechnology revolution, Ayşe, an arts dealer set off on a quest to find a legendary Mellified Man, Yasar Ceylan, a businessman working to build a start-up nanotech firm that has the potential to revolutionize civilization and Necdet, a former drug addict who sees a woman blow her head off and begins having strange visions around him. Together, these stories interlock over the course of a week.

The principle innovation here in McDonald’s world is nanotechnology (where in River of Gods, it was Artificial Intelligences), and while this is clearly a futuristic world, it remains firmly grounded in what’s likely one of the more realistic science fiction stories that I’ve read thus far: the rules are still the same. Throughout, McDonald covers a lot of territory: grey goo scenarios, market manipulation, fundamentalism and mysteries. Istanbul, it would seem, is the perfect location for such a story, with an ancient history behind it, helping to set up a juxtaposition between the future and the past.

In particular, I was blown away by the vivid nature of the book. Like his other book, I had to take my time with this, getting into the right mindset, and absorbing the story as it came along. The payoff is incredible: entire sections come across fully realized, and I couldn’t help but wonder what a film adaptation would look like (and I would absolutely love to see this film translated into a motion picture someday). While it’s dense and occasionally wanders (there are a couple of plot points that help to support, but only just) the book is rich in detail and in its prose. There are only a couple of books out there that I’ve loved for the same reasons: Suzanne Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell comes to mind, as does J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, and Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. Comparing these books is a non-starter (I’m not saying that this is better or worse than any of those), but coming away from this story left me with a similar impression: I got quite a bit out of this book, on all levels.

Of all the stories that the book goes through, the two that hit me the most was Can and Ayşe’s own story arcs. Can, armed with a modular robotic toy that can take several shapes (Bird, Snake, Rat and Monkey), fancies himself as a Boy Detective, and from the safety of his home, he attempts to piece together the bombing that his witnessed through his robot, uncovering clues and going after Necdet after the man is kidnapped. This storyline shone above all, and Can is possibly catapulted himself to become one of my favorite fictional characters – masterfully crafted and characterized, McDonald does everything right with his storyline, capturing the enthusiasm, optimism and creativity of a young boy with an impressive imagination.

Ayşe’s storyline is also an impressive one, as she’s tasked with tracking down a Mellified Man – a mummy preserved in honey, used for healing – This is a real legend, but it’s unclear as to whether there’s actually any basis in truth for it. Ayşe takes us throughout the city and through parts of its history on her search, reminding me a little of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, at points, abit one where the characters work off the books and with fewer Nazis.

The other storylines are all important, on a number of locations, but none struck me quite the same way as the aforementioned do. But, as a whole, the weave together an interesting book that is rooted in reality, and gets a lot of things dead on in conceptualization, particularly when it comes to fundamentalism and terrorism. McDonald appears to realize that the conflict between fundamentalism and a liberal society are political issues that will continue onwards far into the future, but also understands the downsides of terrorism: killing people typically turns people against one’s cause, and the world presented here seems a bit more peaceful with that realization, although the goals might still be in the same place. One of the plots involves the distribution of Nano-agents to a larger population through gas pipelines, agents that will effectively turn people into fundamentalists. It’s a frightening scenario, one that brings up some questions: can faith be imbued in someone artificially? The book doesn’t quite go on to use that more than a plot point, but its existence that is just hinted on is interesting, and McDonald steers clear of delving too much into the theoretical, leaving that up to the readers and the character’s own speculations.

At the end of the book, I was reluctant to put it away on the shelf: The Dervish House was easily one of the best books that I’ve read in the past year, up there with last year’s favorite reads: The City and The City by China Mieville, and Horns by Joe Hill. If I’d finished a month earlier, it would have been a grand way to round out 2010. Instead, it’s set an incredibly high bar for 2011 – not a bad way to start the year.

Grey, by Jon Armstrong

A recent book caught my eyes in the bookstore the other day: Jon Armstrong’s second novel, Yarn, with a gorgeous cover and an interesting looking storyline. In the midst of deciding which book to get, two others won out, and it was returned to the shelf. Followup research showed that I should have gone for it, and further searches in nearby stores came up empty.

Over the course of reading up on Yarn, I discovered that the author’s first book, Grey, was set in the same universe, setting up Armstrong’s particular brand of fiction, labeled ‘Fiction-Punk’. Better still, the publisher, Nightshade Books, had an advance reader’s copy of the book up on their website, for a free download. (You can get it here.)

Grey is a quick, funny read, with a couple of caveats and assumptions to go along with that. Set in a near future dystopia, Michael Rivers is the son of a family member, part of the elite, in a world where pop culture and consumerism has run amok, in the most ridiculous fashion possible. While reading the book, I’m operating on the assumption that this book shifted more towards the satirical than rational. Rivers is a celebrity, and where reality television runs every day, with talk show hosts and talking heads talking nonstop to his own egotistical father who has a documentary filmed of his life as he’s living it, reediting it as he goes.

Fashion takes a front seat in this book, and Armstrong’s descriptions of the fashion of this world is a fun one. Despite the book’s title, there’s multiple colors everywhere, with people wearing some of the strangest things throughout, at least in the expensive and livable areas. It’s not an area where one will think about science fiction, but it’s clear that there’s a lot of inspiration taken from the costuming of numerous films here, and if anything, this film breaks the reader out of the mold that this book is merely a continuation of suburban America.

Despite the label ‘fashionpunk’, this book isn’t really about fashion: it’s a fairly acute look at the direction of a consumerist culture. Once the absurdity is stripped away from the book (mainly in the language of most of the characters), it’s a downright scary look at how things could be several decades from now. Some things remain very much the same: an obsession with celebrity and instant gratification, where companies live and die by their ratings and public perception, rather than their actual internal workings.

This is an entertaining book – one that was a bit of fun to read, although I do hope that Yarn (which I now have) turns out to be a bit better. The plot for this story was rather loose at times, and there are some elements (Michael’s origins – cobbled together from parts from his numerous sibblings comes to mind) where I thought there should have been more emphasis, and there’s a bit of wandering here and there as the book progresses.

But, Grey is an entertaining, with some very dark undercurrents to it, and some very fun parts (Who wouldn’t enjoy professional ironing championships in a fashion-oriented world?) as well. I’m even more excited about Yarn after finishing it.

Brave New Worlds

John Joseph Adams has distinguished himself in the past with outstanding speculative fiction anthologies, from Wastelands to The Living Dead and others. His latest volume, Brave New Worlds, is perhaps one of the finest sets of short fiction that I’ve ever read, with a stunning table of contents and authors to tell their stories of oppression.

Brave New Worlds is a complete turnaround from Wastelands, an anthology that looks at humanity after the demise of civilization. Here, the focus is on societies where government has not only remained, but strengthened to the point where the people themselves become the enemies of the state. It’s an incredibly frightening future, and one that feels far more relevant to today’s world than most works. The argument between Republicanism and Federalism is a familiar one to anybody who has tuned into the news over the past couple of years.

Indeed, this anthology came to me at a time of personal political crisis. The past couple of years have been ones of discussion, learning and thinking about the differences in political parties, and what these sorts of things mean at the end of day and down the road. The idea of an overly strong state that impinges upon the rights of its citizens is something that is undesirable to me, and what our country represents. Numerous actions taken by the government have had a speculative-fiction feel to it, such as the detainees in Guantanamo Bay and the kill order against a radical cleric overseas, to the authority of the Transportation Security Administration following some terrorist attacks. It is a frightening future, but one that also needs to be balanced against the idea of a libertarian world where little order or government control exists to keep people from killing or harming one another. As such, Brave New Worlds is scary much in the same way that Wastelands (of what I’ve read and heard of it) was scary: it exists at the other extreme end of the political spectrum.

There are a good number of fantastic stories here. The anthology starts off with Shirley Jackson’s classic story The Lottery and continues to tell a great number of tales such as S.K. Gilbow’s Red Card, where people are assigned by their state randomly to kill lawbreakers, Ten With A Flag by Joseph Paul Haines that sees citizens given rankings based on their potential and Geriatric Ward by Orson Scott Card, which sees people who have vastly accelerated life spans. One of my absolute favorites is Jordan’s Waterhammer by Joe Mastroianni, a tale of miners valued only as tools. Many of the stories here were fairly new to me: I’d either heard of them by reputation or read them once long ago, while there were also a fair number of stories that I have read before, such as Carrie Vaughn’s Amaryllis (published on Adam’s online science fiction magazine Lightspeed), Philip K. Dick’s Minority Report and Paolo Bacigalupi’s disturbing Pop Squad. There are few of the stories that I didn’t get into, such as The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas by Ursula K. Le Guin and O Happy Day! by Geoff Ryman, simply not suiting my own tastes for any number of reasons, but these were few and far between.

What impressed me even more than the excellent lineup of stories and authors was that the anthology didn’t feel repetitive. There are plenty of short stories and novellas that fall into the dystopian category, but one could have easily told story after story of an intrepid citizen standing up and fighting the power, so to speak. That certainly happens, in their own ways, but there’s a broad spectrum of stories to be told. Jordan’s Waterhammer is a story that I expected to see more often in the anthology, but stories such as Amaryllis, The Things that Make Me Weak and Strange Get Engineered Away (Cory Doctorow) and the funny Civilization by Vylar Kaftan (a choose your own adventure style story) shows a diversity in the story types, but also the morals and themes behind the stories. While Brave New Worlds is scary, it goes out of its way to demonstrate the numerous ways in which fascism can manifest itself in society, in any location.

One of my favorite stories here was Philip K. Dick’s Minority Report, which I first read in the theater waiting for the movie to begin. Of all the dystopian stories that I can think of, the story and the film both demonstrate the core themes for any type of dystopian story: which is the greater evil, protecting the people from themselves, or allowing them to come to greater harm?

One particularly striking story that helped define the anthology was Tobias Buckell’s story, Resistance, on an asteroid colony that adopted techno-democracy, where everybody can vote on every decision. When the time required to vote becomes to much, their voting habits are taken over by a computer, which in turn creates a leader for them, based on their desires. The story demonstrated to me that in all cases, governance is the product of we the people. Society can certainly back the wrong people, as history has seen from time to time, with figures such as Hitler, Stalin or Mussolini, but rather than a universal evil, supporters remain, for whatever reason: fear, threads, naïveté or blind obedience. Despite the uproar online over the TSA screening procedures enacted around the holiday period, a majority of Americans supported them.

Brave New Worlds isn’t a book that’s appealing because I see some imminent threat of a governmental implosion or change (although some might view it that way), it is appealing because it recognizes and points out that fascism is a continual threat to society from a particular political philosophy of a strong state, while the opposite philosophy spells danger in much the same way – presumably what Wastelands will tell a reader. The threat is present within us all, through our overreactions and our indifference to the world around us, and for that, I think Brave New Worlds presents us with a stunning cautionary group of stories that shows the limits of what people will tolerate. As it stands, it remains an exceedingly relevant and poignant book that should be an essential addition to any speculative fiction fan’s personal library.

Books To Read in 2011

With the new year upon us, I’ve wrapped up my list of what I’ve read all of last year, and taken the books that I’ve got sitting on a shelf waiting to read for the next 365 days. I’ve got no illusions that I’ll get through this entire list in one year – there’s certainly books that I had planned to read in 2010 that I never got around to, but it’s a starting point, to be sure.

The Dervish House, Ian McDonald
I’m currently working my way through The Dervish House, a near future tale set in Turkey. It’s a dense, fascinating read, one that I’m trying to take my time with before finishing.

Hull Zero Three, Greg Bear
A man wakes up cold and alone on board a space ship, completely disoriented. I’ve wanted to get this book for a couple of weeks now, and it looks like a fun story, and I hope that it turns out better than Pandorum did.

The Habitation of the Blessed, Catherynne M. Valente
I thought this book was due to come out this year, but happily, I picked it up over the weekend. It’s a strange book thus far, a fictional take on a myth, and its rich story and prose is intriguing.

Grey, Yarn, Jon Armstrong
Yarn has caught my eye over the past couple of days from its gorgeous cover, and while reading up on it, I found that Grey, Armstrong’s first book, is available for free as an online read from Nightshade books. I can’t wait to read both.

At the Queen’s Command, Michael A. Stackpole
My last encounter with Michael Stackpole’s books was his ‘When Dragons Rage’ cycle was published a couple of years ago. This alternate history take on colonialism looks like a fun romp.

Shades of Milk and Honey, Mary Robinette Kowal
Kowal’s first novel has been described as a sort of Victorian story, with fantastic elements, and so far, I’ve liked what little I’ve read of it. It’s on the sidelines for the moment, but I look forward to picking it up again.

The Unincorporated Man, Dani and Eytan Kollin
I know very little about this book – I’ve heard little buzz, seen no reviews or talk about this book or its follow-up, but it looks like a neat read, and it’ll be refreshing to go into a book with little context or bearings.

Spook Country and Zero History, William Gibson
I read the first book in this loose trilogy, Pattern Recognition, earlier in 2010, and really enjoyed it. I’ve since picked up the two follow-up novels, and I’d like to get around to them at some point in the year.

The Handmaiden’s Tale, Margaret Atwood
Margaret Atwood did a number on fanboys with her definition of science fiction a while back, which provides a good lesson in genre classification. Clearly, her books are speculative fiction, and according to a bunch of people, they’re really, really good.

Masked, Lou Anders
I started this last year, and never got around to finishing it. I’ll have to pick away at the stories over the year.

Nights of Villijumar, Mark Charan Newton
Another book that I started last year, but haven’t finished, Newton’s book is a good one thus far, but it’s been slow going, and I had to put it aside to meet a couple of deadlines.

Blackout, Connie Willis
Time-traveling historians. This book looks awesome to the military history masters recipients with a geek background crowd.

Machinery of Light, David J. Williams
David J. Williams has finished out his intense Autumn Rain trilogy with Machinery of Light, and I’ll be interested to see where he goes next with it. The first two were an experience, that’s for sure.

Kraken, China Mieville
I loved The City and The City when I read it last year, and Kraken, ironically, was a book that I was thinking of getting to first. No matter, this year will be the year. Hopefully, I’ll get it done before Embassytown comes out later this year.

Undoubtedly, this is an ambitious list of 16 books, in addition to the growing list of books that are coming out this year that I’d like to get to. If anything, it speaks to a goal to read more. Hopefully, I’ll be able to top my reading list of 43 books for 2010.


“When ships to sail the void between the stars have been invented, there will also be men who come forward to sail those ships.” -Johannes Kepler

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