Josh More's Amazon Reviews

Josh More gave 4 stars to: Apache Security

Fri, 2 Oct 2009 17:54:36 GMT

A good reference, but a tad dated now., October 2, 2009

I've had the book Apache Security for a while now, so I thought I'd give it a quick review.

Like most O'Reilly books, it's well thought out and fairly complete. Unsurprisingly, it focuses on the standard LAMP stack, giving advice on building and deploying Apache and hooking in PHP and SSL. Ruby seem to be missing, and Perl is just discussed within a chroot environment. It discusses performance tuning a bit, in the guise of protection against DOS, and then moves onto issues in a shared hosting environment.

Much of what is in this book is more general than just Apache, so it's best to consider this as a general security book for people running both Linux and Apache, and ideally using PHP and MySQL. It would be less useful to people running Apache on Windows and for people using less common languages. However, it is very good for the basics:

* Installing Apache
* Hardening Apache
* Setting up chroot
* Hardening PHP
* Configuring logging and access
* Understanding web attacks
Where it seems to lack a bit is:

* It presumes that the reader will install Apache from source, whereas most these days will install from a package. More advice on hardening Apache in the SuSE, Red Hat and Ubuntu/Debian environments would be useful.
* There is no mention of AppArmor or SELinux (which, to be fair, were pretty new when this book came out). A second edition will have to have these, as they are a key way to protect Apache against itself.
* A few pages on how to use Suhosin to protect PHP applications would be good.
* A section on protecting Ruby and one on Perl would be good. While it is certainly true that no book can cover everything, these three languages are the most common in the LAMP world and should probably be addressed, at least in passing.
* While we're at it, a section on hardening MySQL wouldn't be out place, as the book is more of a LAMP book than an Apache book anyway.

I recommend this book for the beginner to moderate admin, be they a web admin or in the security space. However, experienced people may not find much new in here. I would, however, love to see a second edition released.

Josh More gave 4 stars to: Finding Creatures & Other Stories

Mon, 18 May 2009 00:01:24 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Finding Creatures & Other Stories by C. June Wolf

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:

Something different, some things new, May 17, 2009

When you pick up a book by a new author, you never know what you're going to get. However, those of us that read a lot get a feeling for what a book will be like. Looking at Finding Creatures, I expected a blending of Celtic and Native American mythology ("Aboriginal" if you're Canadian ;) In such collections you often find similar characters that all inhabit the same world, and each story follows a pattern of introduction, meeting the other, learning the other isn't so strange after all, oh wait, yes they are, but they're OK anyway.

I am pleased to say that this collection does not match the trope.

Each story is unique and special. Moreover, each is told in a slighly different way. In fact, were it not for a common thread, it would feel much like reading a collection by many authors. Wolf doesn't so much have a authorial voice as a subvocalization, which makes reading a collection very interesting.

The stories range throughout space and time, ignoring genre in favor of characterization and exploration. It is tempting to launch into a story-by-story analysis, but to do so would not do justice to the stories. So let me just say that the aliens are actually alien, not just humans-with-twist. The gods are god-like, with all that that historically implies. Humans, wherever they are, are still human with human concerns and flaws. The ideas may not be new, but many of them were fairly new to me.

If you want a collection for "more of the same" this is not the collection for you. However, if want an interesting exploration of place, culture and the people and ideas within, this is a good one to read. In the end, I'm glad that I gave it a try. I will certainly pick up the next collection.

Josh More gave 4 stars to: White Sands, Red Menace

Mon, 5 Jan 2009 02:20:21 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

White Sands, Red Menace by Ellen Klages

1 of 2 people found the following review helpful:

A good sequel, but read the first book first., January 4, 2009

I was all set to love this book. Green Glass Sea was incredible. Portable Childhoods was amazing. White Sands, Red Menace was just OK. It was a sequel and not really much more than that. It was nice to revisit the characters I had grown to love in the original, but not much happened.

In many ways, this isn't surprising. World War II is a much more interesting backdrop than the early Cold War, especially from the point of view of children. There was some attempt at drama involving the parents, and it sort of worked, but it wasn't as powerful as what happened to Dewey's father in the first book. The racism issues were interesting, but the Nazi aspects were sadly lacking. The economic and technological changes were neat to consider, but weren't as interesting as the creation of a new technology from scratch.

Really, this story serves as more of a coda for Green Glass Sea than a standalone book. It's worth reading if you're particularly interested in the 1950s and the early days of rocket flight. However, when you get right down to it, I'm not. It was a fun read, but not fantastic, and I was hoping for fantastic.

Josh More gave 5 stars to: The Graveyard Book

Mon, 5 Jan 2009 01:42:43 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:

Of course it's a great book, but check out the illustrations., January 4, 2009

What I can say about Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book that hasn't already been said? By now, everyone pretty much knows that it's an homage to the Jungle Books and that most everything that Gaiman works on is excellent. The only real item of value to add is that it's like the Mowgli stories in the Jungle Books, not the Jungle Books in their entirety. I suspect that that's what most people think of when they think of "The Jungle Books", so no one should be much disappointed at the lack of a ghoulish Rikki-Tikki-Tavi.

So, with everyone understanding that it's good and all, it's worth buying and reading and well made (as many books these days are not), I'm going to stop talking about Neil's work right now.

Instead, I'm going to talk about Dave McKean.

Dave McKean illustrated this book and did so in a style the blends dark and domineering black pen with light and subtle watercolors (in grey, of course). At the beginning of the story, it's pretty heavy and the art overwhelms the text, but after that it's just a little illustration here and a little one there. Hilary Zarychy, aside from having a last name that I have no idea how to pronounce, did a wonderful job on the typesetting, so the text flows along with the art, showing that the two work together to create one hole, but (and this is VERY important) at no point does the text become difficult to read.

See, a lot of books these days are "illustrated" simply because certain types of books are supposed to be illustrated. However, when you have a book where the illustrations blend together with the story, it creates a whole that is remembered as story and images -- forming a solid marker in the memory that forever reminds one of the experience of reading the story. There are a few books that manage to blend the art and the story together this way, Catherine Coblentz's Blue Cat of Castle Town (Illustrated by Janice Holland and available online for free here), Ruth Stiles Gannett's My Father's Dragon (Illustrated by Ruth Chrisman Gannett and available online for free here) and many of Thornton Burgess's early books (Illustrated by Harrison Cady) come to mind. The Graveyard Book joins this small set of books that will always hold a place in my mind.

I open the book to a random page, 142 to be precise, and I see a small painted stone on a bed of leaves. The lines are simple but definite. The composition is straightforward and uncomplicated. However, I immediately remember the story, the characters, the fear and the sadness. I remember sitting in my brown recliner, reading by the yellow light of my halogen lamp, with a blanket over my legs and two cats sleeping on me. The room is silent and the day's concerns have slipped away as I wander through the life that is Bod's.

That's what illustrations are supposed to do. That's why this book is special beyond the writing.

Josh More gave 4 stars to: Oracles

Mon, 5 Jan 2009 00:22:40 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Oracles: A Pilgrimage by Catherynne M. Valente

Excellently done, but may be difficult for some readers, January 4, 2009

Yes, Oracles: A Pilgrimage is another Catherynne M. Valente book, but this one is poetry! Sorta.

The idea is pretty straightforward. There was this oracle at Delphi, right? She was famous and all, but there were other oracles (otherwise, they'd call her "The Oracle" instead of "The Oracle at Delphi"). Sure, we don't hear about them often, but they must be around, 'cause we've also not heard of The Great Oracle Cataclysm of 385 (or whenever). So, if they're around, where are they?

If you're Valente, they live in Seattle, Detroit, L.A. and Boston... to name a few.

I loved the concept, so I had to try the book, even though I'm generally not a huge fan of poetry. Like everything else I've read by her, this is brilliant, although it does tend to be a bit more academic and less accessible than her prose has been. I know my mythologies, but she clearly knows hers better. (If you don't know yours, you may want to give this one a pass.) References to myth and rituals abound, wrapped up in and adapted to the cities in which these modern oracles live.

Proper enjoyment of this book requires deep knowledge of mythology (mostly Greek, but I think there are references to others hiding around here as well) geography and sociology. This is a book that will be taught in colleges at some point in the future, and she'll likely have to put out an annotated version sometime. Until then, however, it's very enjoyable so long as you don't suffer from a need to understand everything that is said.

If I had to pick out flaws, only two come to mind. First, like many themed poetry books, the poems tend to run together. I should have been more disciplined and read them one-per-night, otherwise it gets old near the end. Secondly, for some strange reason, there is no title information on the cover or spine. I mean, I know which book it is, because what other book would have Collier's Priestess of Delphi on it? But really, words are nice, and when I shelve it in Poetry, it would be nice not to have to remember that it's the one that's red and has no text on the spine (the second in my poetry section that meets that description).

So, if you enjoy mythology and poetry and believe that you are sufficiently well educated to enjoy it, pick it up and give it a whirl. You'll not be disappointed.

Josh More gave 4 stars to: Voices (Annals of the Western Shore)

Sun, 4 Jan 2009 04:40:16 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Voices (Annals of the Western Shore) by Ursula K. Le Guin

Good book, I should probably have started with book one., January 3, 2009

So, apparently Ursula K. Le Guin has started a new series, and I started reading it on book two. Oh well, it was good anyway. This is a book about literacy and its place in a culture. For such a topic, I can think of no better author than Le Guin, so of course, it's going to work out OK.

Voices starts after a war and focuses on a young girl (Memer) that survived the massacre. She is befriended by an elder and taught to read, which is frowned upon by the invaders. The book then goes on to explore the culture, which is necessary to understand the coming conflict. Once the cultures are adequetly explained, and Memer's role within the oppressed society is understood, the two cultures are brought into conflict through the foil of an outsider. After everything, that occurs, rationality prevails and things settle down and end appropriately.

To describe it like this makes it sound boring, and by many other authors, it likely would be. However, Le Guin has the skill to pull of drama and excitement without resorting to the commonly used stereotypes
that appear in genre fiction. There are no misunderstands and communication difficulties that create the drama. There's none of the "hot-headed kid gets into trouble and out again" that so often appears in bo
oks of this type. Each character reacts appropriately according to their culture, logic and views of right and wrong.

This is book that is clearly fiction, but feels real. It's well written, well paced and ends well. It ends with unanswered questions, but I expect that those will be answered by other books in the series. It seems to be aimed at younger readers, but it doesn't read any poorer for being aimed a tad lower. I'm going to have to get the other books in this series.

Josh More gave 4 stars to: Firebirds

Sun, 4 Jan 2009 03:41:35 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Firebirds: An Anthology of Original Fantasy and Science Fiction by Garth Nix

A good collection... as one might expect, January 3, 2009

Firebirds is another masterpiece of editing by Sharyn November. I've heard a lot about the horror that is the slush pile, but people like Sharyn seem to keep finding literary gold. Sure, they're supposedly for kids age 12 to 18, but I tend to think that kids that age are better described as "people", and Firebirds is an excellent book for people (and if you're reading this, odds are that you are one).

I picked up this anthology because it has a Nina Kiriki Hoffman story in it, and she's one of the few authors for whom I am still something of a raving fan. I read that one first. :)

"Flotsam" by Nina Kirki Hoffman is a story about a young boy from another land who winds up in ours and the people that help him out. It's a formula that's been done before, but you know, so was "Fear Street" and Nina Kirki Hoffman managed to write three stories in that trope that were new. She managed to do the same here. What's particularly nice here is that, while there is magic, it's not particularly magical. Though astonishing to the people that have not previously seen it, it's nothing special to the people doing the magic.

"Cotillion" by Delia Sherman is a remarkably (albeit lantern-hung) variant of Tam Lin. There's nothing very special here, which was surprising, as I generally enjoy her work. Then I got to the end, and it ended correctly, even though it broke the pattern. I appreciate that at lot.

"The Baby in the Night Deposit Box" by Megan Whalen Turner was wonderful. I shant bore you with a plot-based retelling, so let me just say that it's a story about a small town and their collective love for a child. I mean, sure there's a fairy war with goblins, enslavement and death as well as buracracy on many levels, but that stuff's not important. Really, it's all about love and bunnies... as well it should be.

"Beauty" by Sherwood Smith felt strange. It was like reading a story that was only half-told. As I read it, I thought that it was a vehicle for a bit of philosophy on pretty people and rightness of action. Then, when I got to the end and read the Author's Note, I saw that it was a sequel of sorts to Crown Duel. It sorta stands on it's own, but I suspect that I would have liked it better had I read the other book first.

"Mariposa" by Nancy Springer is a story that needed to be written. It's very good and addresses a common social problem in a very matter-of-fact and unusual way. This is one of those that is definitely aimed at the 12-18 age range, but also serves as a good reminder for those of us who are a wee bit older.

"Max Mondrosch" by Lloyd Alexander is horrifying and nightmarish and should not be read. Really, get out your tape and stick these pages together. Put a PostIt note on the front of the story with the note "Do not open until economy has improved." You'll thank me later. (Oh yeah, it's really good, you just don't want to read it.)

"The Fall of Ys" by Meredith Ann Pierce really requires knowledge of Celtic myth. This is one of those sories that should really stand on it's own, but really doesn't. It would be better if it were framed as a story within a story, so that the traditional myth could be briefly retold than this story could be told from a "what really happened" perspective. Maybe there wasn't enough space to do it that way, I don't know. In the end, it was somewhat disapointing.

"Medusa" by Michael Cadnum was another story that requires knowledge of myth. However, I think that this story still permeates our mainstream culture, so that's OK. Unlike many retellings, it really dwells on
the concept that the Greek gods really don't care about humans, so I applaud its historical accuracy as well as the way that it twists the form just enough to resolve appropriately for modern audiences.

"The Black Fox" by Emma Bull and Charles Vess is a surprise comic book! Like most of Emma's work, it's well researched and well told. Like most of Charles's work, it's very well drawn and annoylingly lettered. I mean, sure the lettering is beautiful, but it's a little harder to read than the more classic style. Maybe it's just what I'm used to, I don't know. Anyway, it's a good retelling of a classic folk song and again tweaked so as to be accessible to modern readers. I enjoyed it.

"Byndley" by Patricia A. McKillip is pretty much a classic McKillip story. The writing sparkles and the storytelling winds its way through the woods much like the characters it describes. It feels like it should be a novel, yet, at the same time, it's good that it's not. As a novel, it would be ponderous and difficult to get through. As it is, you come in at the end of the story and enough is retold that you understand and appreciate it. It's done well and well done.

"The Lady of the Ice Garden" by Kara Dalkey was another retelling of "The Snow Queen", and I must admit that Kelly Link's version has spoiled me forever. Had I not read that one, I would have thoroughly enjoyed Dalkey's version. As it was, there seemed to be something missing. Granted, there is a subtlety to Japanese culture that I may be missing due to incomplete historical knowledge, but in the end, I just didn't enjoy this one as much as Link's. So it goes.

"Hope Chest" by Garth Nix was holy-crap-what-am-I-reading fantastic. It's another foundling story, but is very different from any other such story I've ever read. It takes the interlinked concepts of destiny/fate/purpose and tells a story that is every bit as heartbreaking at Greek tragedy and still unbelievably good (despite being an American Western). It's worth the price of the collection all by itself.

"Chasing the Wind" by Elizabeth E. Wein was good, but didn't make much of an impression on me. This may have been due to the immediately preceding "Hope Chest", but it could also have been that it was about a time period that doesn't really do much for me, nor does aviation history. I suspect that WWII and aeroplane aficionados would have a very different opinion.

"Little Dot" by Diana Wynne Jones is about kitty cats. It doesn't really work well as a story, as there are too many things left unexplained and the world isn't well built. Were this a story among other stories set in the same world, it would be better. However, the kitty cats feel real, and that's worth something.

"Remember Me" by Nancy Farmer is good but sad. It's about families and misfits. Mostly though, it's about being different, as seen by those who are not. It's short and worth reading, so I shall not say any more here.

"The Flying Woman" by Laurel Winter is an interesting exploration of magic, honor and care taking. There's also an element of "you can't change people", which is a good, though difficult, lesson to learn. In a book full of life lessons, this is an appropriate story to exit on.

Taken as a whole, the collection is wonderful, and the only real problem was that it took me five years to get to it (and then two months to write this review, *sigh*). Sure would be nice if there was a subscription model so one could get the latest monthly or bimonthly Sharyn November book without having to track them all down. Sure, tracking things down is fun, but I don't have the same amount of sleuthing time I once did.

But, if that's the biggest complaint I have, I guess I'm OK.

Josh More gave 4 stars to: Little Rascal

Sun, 4 Jan 2009 01:11:36 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Little Rascal by Sterling North

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:

An OK read, but very nice illustrations, January 3, 2009

Little Rascal is a simplified and shortened version of the classic Rascal. I picked it up because it was cheap and because it had wonderful illustrations. The original is a better story, but this version is much prettier.

You can get the story in other places. In a nutshell, it's a collection of remembrances of the author's experiences raising a young raccoon. In this form, it feels somewhat chopped up and glued together. It doesn't flow and doesn't really pull the reader into the story. If you really want to care about the raccoon and learn about growing up in the country during World War I, then known as the Great War (not so great, actually), you're better off reading the original.

However, if you can appreciate true-to-life hand-drawn art that is brilliantly rendered in shades of black and white, it's worth picking up this version as well.

Josh More gave 4 stars to: Woods and Waters Wild

Tue, 30 Dec 2008 03:23:40 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Woods and Waters Wild: Collected Early Stories by Charles De Lint

10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:

A very good retrospective, but not up to his current quality, December 29, 2008

Woods and Waters Wild is the third and final book in Charles de Lint's collection of very early work. I started de Lint's work with Dreams Underfoot, and have followed him ever since. Throughout most of that time, his style has been fairly constant. Though he's grown in certain directions, when you pick up a de Lint book, you can pretty sure that it's a de Lint book. Not so with this one. Woods and Waters Wild shows an author learning to write. There are commonalities with the more contemporary works, but there are certain stories that diverge pretty strongly.

The book is broken up into sections, and de Lint himself states that "the stories collected under 'Pastiches', [were] a little painful for [to] reread", and yeah, they were. They really were. Luckily, the book improved after that. Once you get through the pain that is "Pastiches", you move on to the "Angharad" section. These stories were interesting to revisit, as they were the seeds that his later book Into the Green grew from. Unlike the earlier section, you could tell that there was really something here... something good. Ultimately, it proved to be enough to make a good novel, but not to become a series. It was interesting to revisit.

The section Dennet and Willie contains two fairly predictable, but not very satisfying, stories about two characters. The characters are pretty basic, but not bad. The stories twist around a bit, but to a reader who is familiar with de Lint's more mature work, they won't stand up. They were diverting, but not very masterful... which is unsurprising because he was not yet a master when they were written.

Then, we get to meet Thomas the Rhymer and, in many ways, get to read the stories that might have been. These stories are inspired by classic folk ballads and read the way that Charles Vess draws. If you know the songs, the twists, alignments and departures are fascinating. If you don't know the songs, the stories serve as excellent introductions. These stories are wonderful. They may not be as well crafted as the current work, but are as good as some of the stories that appear in Dreams Underfoot. Part of me wishes that there had been more of these stories to read, but the other part recognizes that by giving them up, we got Newford... and that's a good trade.

The remaining five stories are more like the de Lint I was expecting. Each story is well written and stands on its own. Though some of them are strangely incomplete and plot-driven (like the random bear in "The Fane of the Grey Rose"), they are enjoyable and make a good read on a cold winter night. Some are unique, like "A Kingly Thing", which pulls the reader along a destined path following a similarly-pulled young protagonist. Some, like "Wood and Waters Wild" are a simple update of a fairly classic and common myth, good but not great. Then, lastly, there are the two that should really have been expanded into novels of their own. "The White Road" would have made an excellent full-length travelogue/coming of age story. It's a good short story, but could have been an incredible novel. Similarly, "The Graceless Child" is about honesty, truth and decisions. The characters are interesting and come alive in the way that characters in later stories do. I wish that they had been given more of a chance to bloom.

So, in a nutshell, you may find an acorn. However, were this book to be in a nutshell, I'd have to say that you'd enjoy it more as a retrospective and a view into a writer learning to write. If you're expecting the depth and skill that de Lint is currently capable of, you'd be disappointed. However, if you already know and like his current work and want to see the path he took getting here, it's well worth picking up.

Josh More gave 1 star to: The Jane Austen Book Club (movie tie-in)

Sun, 7 Dec 2008 20:18:57 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The Jane Austen Book Club (movie tie-in) by Karen Joy Fowler

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful:

Very disappointing., December 7, 2008

I had not heard of The Jane Austen Book Club until the movie came out. As one of my rules (mostly followed) is not to see a movie until I've read the book it's based on, I picked up a copy and added it to my "to be read eventually" pile. Well, I've finally gotten to it. I really don't see what all the fuss was for.

I'm not a raving Jane Austen fan, but I certainly do enjoy her work and have read most of her novels (Northanger Abbey and Lady Susan are still waiting for me). I understand the desire to have a Jane Austen book club. I understand each of the characters and their reasons for being in the club. I understand the concept of taking Austenesque characters and placing them into modern society.

What I don't understand is why so many people went nuts over this. Fowler doesn't write like Austen, and Austen's use of language is one of most enjoyable bits about her books. The other wonderful things about Austen's books is how women work within and around the social constraints of their society. In modern society, the majority of those limits simply aren't there, so Fowler has to invent other situations to produce emotional conflict.

She doesn't succeed very well.

The characters have issues, none of them really seem to feel them. There's not even any real suffering in silence, which is so enjoyable in Mansfield Park. There's little romance and little character growth. In fact, the only thing about this book that is common with Austen's work is that everyone winds up in a relationship in the end. Sorry to spoil it for you, but really, what did you expect to happen?

In fact, this book reads as though it was hoped to become the next Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, going all the way as to include discussion questions at the end. Were Austen the Greek goddess of well-written subtle social comedy (and why not), Karen Joy Fowler would surely have been cursed for hubris.

Tell you what. If you like Jane Austen, read her books. If you like book clubs, join one.

Just don't read this book in it.

Josh More gave 3 stars to: The chickadees;

Sun, 7 Dec 2008 20:17:25 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The chickadees;: A contemporary fable, by M. Conrad Hyers

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:

Excellent pictures... the rest is OK too., December 7, 2008

OK, let me start by saying that I hate modern fables. The ancient form of the fable was using a fairly short story to illustrate a single concept, in a way to approach the concept laterally and hopefully bypass the reader's (or listener's) preconceived notions. Reading them today, there is a simplicity to them that is enjoyable, but there's enough philosophical content to really make one think.

Modern fables are the exact opposite. The ideas that they contain and light and fluffy, usually stripped of their essence into naught but a sound-bite. The stories, in contrast, are long and rambling and never really get to the point in a way that can allow the point to be discussed.

Since The Chickadees was subtitled as "a contemporary fable", I opened it expecting to read a trite exploration of different forms of philosophical thought. I was not disappointed. It was extremely basic and much too long. There were characters in it who were wise, but the work itself was not a work of wisdom.

It should either have been drastically cut down to fit the fable form, or extended into the form of a fantasy novel. As it is, it's really not worth reading.

The pictures sure are pretty though.

Josh More gave 2 stars to: The Freeing of the Deer/Se da libertad al venado

Sun, 7 Dec 2008 20:16:07 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The Freeing of the Deer/Se da libertad al venado: And Other New Mexico Indian Myths/y otras leyendas de los indios de Nuevo Mexico (English and Spanish Edition) by Carmen Gertrudis Espinosa

An acceptable collection, but nothing special., December 7, 2008

There are several ways to build a collection of myths. Some people present them by theme - tricksters, questings, creations. Some people present them in a historical context - flood stories, legends bridging myth to history. Some people use them to advance a political agenda - saving a dying culture, showing the plight of the underprivileged throughout time.

However, The Freeing of the Deer by Carmen Gertrudis Espinosa takes the more common approach of "throw a bunch of stuff together".

There's just not much here. First of all, it's a bilingual book. This is all well and good if you're interested in learning Spanish (or English, I suppose, but folks that don't know English are unlikely to be reading this review, so I'll assume the former). However, it's a little book to begin with. If you cut out the Spanish bits, it would be about 40 pages long. There's just not a lot of room for myths in there.

Sadly, it also suffers from the common problem with books on Native American myths. There is no historical or cultural context for the stories. Thus, they come across as flat and superficial. While it's difficult to convey the embellishments of song and dance from the original performances of such stories, utterly ignoring that aspect of the myths converts them into mere outlines of what they could otherwise be.

It's as if I retold the story of Romeo and Juliet as "There were two stupid kids that thought they loved each other. Their families didn't get along, so the kids killed themselves."

I suspect that these stories lost something similarly in the translation. From a collection-perspective, it's nice to have a set of Pueblo stories. However, it would be nicer if the stories were allowed to breathe a bit.

Josh More gave 5 stars to: The Orphan's Tales

Sun, 7 Dec 2008 20:14:44 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The Orphan's Tales: In the Night Garden by Catherynne M. Valente

2 of 3 people found the following review helpful:

A tidy tangle of tale and tone, December 7, 2008

I first became aware of Catherynne M. Valente back when I read Yume No Hon: The Book of Dreams (which I've not yet reviewed... shame on me). That one was so amazing that when an Amazon gift certificate fell into my lap, I decided to blow it all on some of her other books.

That was probably one of the best impulse purchases I've ever made.

In the Night Garden sat on my shelf for a few months. Finally, when life calmed down enough, I picked it up and started to read it. I had been a bit put off by the copy on the back, which read "Welcome to the Arabian Nights for our time" blah blah blah. Now, I like the Arabian Nights as much as the next educated amateur mythologist, but I have to admit that, compared to some other "classics", it does fall a bit flat -- treating the characters naught but place holders that must be moved around for the sake of the plot.

Luckily for all of us, whoever wrote the copy on the back had no idea what they were talking about. This is no mere collection of tales. This book is a living thing. I've read books before that "drew me in" and that I "couldn't put down" (to delve into the common phrases). However, I've read precious few books that grew around me and lay down a path for me to follow into the depths of the forest of words.

If you suffer from extreme ill luck, you may find yourself plummeting from the sky (maybe your parachute failed to open, maybe you picked a poor seesaw partner, maybe the aliens got bored and cut the beam... it matters not). As you fall, you see a vast expanse of green. As you fall closer, the green becomes individual trees. Closer still, each tree has as many leaves as the forest has trees. Each leaf has a comparable number of cells (classical term here, not biological). Each tree also produces clusters of seeds, which are either dropped to germinate in the rich loam or are eaten by little grey squirrels.

Now, you freeze in mid air, hanging in the middle of the forest, and look at it through the extent of all time. (Maybe the aliens caught you again, maybe there's one of those troublesome rifty things in the continuum that pop up now and then... it matters not.) Over time, trees die and fall, providing homes for the little grey squirrels and rotting to nourish both their own progeny and that of their neighbors.

You see the squirrels skitter back and forth, moving at a very different rate than the trees themselves. However, the trees do move. Fire and drought reduce their numbers. Pleasant sun and rain cause them to increase. Squirrel caches, unneeded after mild winters increase the regions in which they can grow... and provide homes for future squirrels to absent-mindedly bury other caches.

Hanging there, suspended in space and time, you notice the interrelation of the animal and vegetable. You also begin to see a deeper and slower time scale within the mineral. You see the constant erosion and upheaval of the forest floor. You see the sun cycling year after year, slowly expanding and turning red. You see stars twinkle, brighten, darken, and occasionally fall to earth, scattering trees and squirrels like dust in their wake.

It takes time, it takes work, but eventually you see the massive interconnectedness of the entire ecosystem and it's place in the cosmos. You see how none of it could possibly exist without the other. You see dependencies upon dependencies, and still know that you can not possibly see them all or understand the importance of every tiny part.

f you add to this little exercise: families of wolves, wandering bears, fishing herons, flocks of geese, the occasional lone fox and a swimming otter, and lastly the sound of a slithering snake that you know is there but can never quite see, the system grows astonishingly more complex. If you then dare to add people, with their varied cultures and conflicts, it grows much more subtle to decipher what is truly going on.

Valente adds to all this, a mix of gods and magics.

The tales in this book branch and twist, grow together and pull apart. The language is rich, the world is complete, the characters are each real and possessing of their own stories. However, it is very difficult to write a review. It would be like describing a forest by sketching but a single leaf. There is no way that I can adequately tell you what she did, both in terms of the art of storytelling and in terms of the form of storytelling.

Really, the best I can say is that you should just pick a nice dark night, a comfortable chair, a glowing lamp, and a piping hot cup of tea. Settle in for the night, open the book and let the stories unfurl to envelop you.

Remember not to let the tea get cold.

Josh More gave 3 stars to: The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Wed, 9 Apr 2008 02:36:29 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:

Well written, but somewhat cliched, April 8, 2008

This review contains spoilers

OK, seriously, how I could pass up a book with a title like The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Especially after I read the back and it painted a picture of a shy, gawky and confused highschool kid who had to deal with similar issues that I did during that time?

Well, at least that's what I thought I'd be reading. It started out good enough. The writing is amusing, and some of the teenage "insights" were downright hilarious. There were also a few bits here and there that were amazingly well done and surprisingly painful.

However, taken as a whole, it's a bit too busy and I lost the believability near the end. I don't doubt that a great many intelligent kids have social difficulties in high school (I know that my own experiences were... suboptimal)...

However, the concept that, in the course of one year, a kid can learn about sex and masturbation, get addicted to tobacco, experiment with marijuana and LSD, overcome his own self-esteem problems, deal with child molestation, witness a rape, witness physical abuse, deal with an abortion, have his first drink, etc etc etc... well, it seems contrived. (As is the concept of a kid that gets to be freshman, knows about sex, but has never masturbated before.)

Let me just say that a person can be interesting and have emotional issues resulting from intelligence and poor social skills without having to have been physically or sexually abused. It gets tiresome to read books where such a situation either launches the character on their journey, or (in the case of this book) it becomes a surprise twist at the end.

This book would have been so much better had the kid just been a really bright kid who "didn't get it". There's ample drama and angst in a normal well-adjusted teenager that it's unnecessary to create especially painful experiences for the reader. In many ways, this seems to be the easy way out.

The format is one that is easy to do wrong (collection of letters), but works in this case because the writing style is believable for the type of character writing it... and it's all written by one person, so you don't have the problem of tracking dialogue that often results such such a format.

All in all, the writing is good, and there are some very well written and evocative bits. However, I don't recommend that anyone make it a point to read this one. More importantly, I don't recommend that any angsty teenagers read it at all... it's not likely to help (and could well hinder).

Josh More gave 4 stars to: Things You Should Know

Wed, 9 Apr 2008 02:32:10 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Things You Should Know : A Collection of Stories by A. M. Homes

Good collection, very honest, April 8, 2008

Another book that I picked up simply because it had a great title was Things You Should Know by A. M. Holmes. Not only do I like to know things (so a book that detailed what I should know was particularly appealing), but it has a lovely picture of a penguin-badger on the cover.

I know you're thinking "Penguin-badgers? We don't need no stinkin' penguin-badgers!", but in this case you might want to reconsider. This is a collection of short stories is wonderful, despite the yellow post-it note that informs me: "this book sucks" (I love used books. :)

She writes from the heart, which is something that reviewers say quite often but never define. This is unsurprising, as the heart is a tricky thing. Most authors tend not to write about four chambers that endlessly pump oxygenated erythrocytes, choosing instead to write from a metaphorical heart. This is the approach that A. M. Homes has taken. In her case, however, "writing from the heart" and "writing heart-warming stories" are very different.

She opens the collection with "The Chinese Lesson", which doesn't so much explore the issue of an interracial marriage (half unrecognized) as drop you into it and let you find your own way out (sans-machete). She then goes into incomprehensible magical realism in "Raft in Water, Floating", which doesn't even being to make sense until you read "The Weather Outside is Sunny and Bright", her other magical realism story later in the volume. Even then, it's not entirely clear what's going on, but such things do not have to be understood to be appreciated.

Then, just in case you were liking her characters, you get to meet a woman who you really want to like, but can't quite manage to. This is largely because she is emotionally crippled and indulges in what I can only describe as "genetic rape". "Georgica" is a spooky story, one about loss and pain and longing. I'm still not sure if I liked it. I certainly didn't enjoy it... but of all the stories in this book, it's the most memorable.

The woman in "Remedy", however, is very likable. It's a story about maturity and anxiety. It's about trust and communication... and about how easy it is to lose them both in the business of the everyday.

In contrast, "Rockets Around the Moon" doesn't hit nearly as hard. It's about family -- families of birth and families of choice. It really should be more powerful than it is, but I just didn't find myself caring about the characters. People with other upbringings might have different reactions to it.

Then I read "Please Remain Calm" and my world was shaken. Some of you know bits of my past. This was a story about marriage and suicide. I'll just say that it hit very close to home, and I may have been crying at the end. In some ways, I wish I had read it years ago. In others, I'm glad that I have taken the path I have.

The title story "Things You Should Know" is about uncertainty and (possibly) a psychotic break. Generally speaking, it does not present the things you should know, but it does discuss them in their absence. It's hard to boil a three page story down further, so I will merely say that it's about expectation and the eventually realization that, contrary to the common message of society, you have to make a life for yourself. Things don't magically fall into place because there are no places for them to land.

"The Whiz Kids" is about sexual abuse among children. I did not enjoy it... but then I wasn't supposed to.

The other story that stuck with me was "Do Not Disturb". Homes has a way of writing emotionally distant characters, and it really shines in this story. You get to meet a woman who is amazingly egotistical and self-centered as well as her husband who never stands up for himself. It's an unbalanced relationship between two people who become progressively more unbalanced as the story progresses. It's good. It's not fun, but it's good... and it's probably good to read stories that aren't fun sometimes.

The story ends with "The Former First Lady and the Football Hero", which (to spoil it) is about Nancy Regan's life taking care of her husband as he slips into Alzheimer's. It's really good. I never thought that I'd think that about a story about a political figure... especially one with whom's policies I disagree, but it's just so well written. Unlike most of the characters in this book who are somewhat distant and crippled, Nancy Regan is portrayed as being amazingly strong and capable. It's a great end to the collection.

Josh More gave 5 stars to: The Magic City

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 03:33:06 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The Magic City by E. Nesbit

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:

Good book, but hard for young readers, February 18, 2008

Years ago, I stumbled across a book by Edward Eager (Knight's Castle, I believe). This guy wrote books for his children when he ran out of E. Nesbit stories to read to them. So, I discovered E. Nesbit through Edward Eager. When I started reading her, it rapidly became clear that many of my favorite authors were likely influenced by her, so when I found a book that I had not read yet, I was excited.

It's good. It's not as good as her more famous books, and it does not age well. However, there is more creativity in this work than in anything of hers that I have read. Sadly, I'm also older now, and was able to see things in this book that I would not have noticed when I was younger.

The story introduces two children who are forced to live together when their caretakers marry. (Unlike The Ogre Downstairs, I don't find fault with this plot device because the book is set around 1900. Culture was quite different then.) The girl (Lucy) quite likes the boy (Phillip), but he does not return her affection because he's upset that his life has changed. This continues when they both get magically sucked into a world that was created when Phillip built a city out of various things around the house.

This is where it gets difficult to read, due to cultural differences. See, the city is populated by the toys that the boy used to build the city. Additionally, the things in the books that he used for walls sometimes come out. So, there are a LOT of references to toys and educational materials that simply aren't common any longer. However, her writing more than makes up for the cultural divide. I am going to share some with you. If you do not wish the spoilers, buy it and read it yourself.

'I was about to tell you,' said Mr. Noah, 'and I will not answer questions. Of course it is magic. Everything in the world is magic, until you understand it.
(Mr. Noah is a character from the Noah's Ark toy set.)

'Because,' he said, 'I'm more likely to meet Lucy. Girls always keep to paths. They never explore.'

Which just shows how little he knew about girls.
(This is after Philip loses Lucy due to a strange series of circumstances.)

'But laws can't be useful and beautiful, can they?'

'They can certainly be useful,' said Mr. Noah, 'and,' he added with modest pride, 'my laws are beautiful. What do you think of this? "Everybody must try to be kind to everybody else. Any one who has been unkind must be sorry and say so."'
(Mr. Noah is also the Chief Judge, so he gets to make the laws.)

'Is it something we shall be afraid of too?' Lucy asked. And Philip at once said, 'Oh, then she really did mean to come, did she? But she wasn't to if she was afraid. Girls weren't expected to be brave.'

'They are, here,' said Mr. Noah, 'the girls are expected to be brave and the boys kind.'
(That fact that I grew up reading stuff like this goes a long way to explain my attitudes towards gender, I suppose.)

The sun was shining--there was a sun, and Mr. Noah had told the children that it came out of the poetry books, together with rain and flowers and the changing seasons--and in spite of the strange, almost-tumble-no-it's-all-right-but-you'd-better-look-out way in which the camel walked, the two travellers were very happy. The dogs bounded along in the best of spirits, and even the camel seemed less a prey than usual to that proud melancholy which you must have noticed in your visits to the Zoo as his most striking quality.
(It's true, camels are quite mournful beasts. I'll try to take photos for you some time.)

'Oh, anybody can steer then,' said Billy; 'you if you like.' So it was Lucy who steered the ark into harbour, under Mr. Noah's directions. Arks are very easy to steer if you only know the way. Of course arks are not like other vessels; they require neither sails nor steam engines, nor oars to make them move. The very arkishness of the ark makes it move just as the steersman wishes. He only has to say 'Port,' 'Starboard,' 'Right ahead,' 'Slow' and so on, and the ark (unlike many people I know) immediately does as it is told.
(I probably picked up my proclivity for parentheticals from E. Nesbit as well. Oh, and who can not bask in the awesomeness that is the word "arkishness"?)

* * * * * *

I'm sorry this chapter is cut up into bits with lines of stars, but stars are difficult to avoid when you have to tell about a lot of different things happening all at once. That is why it is much better always to keep your party together if you can. And I have allowed mine to get separated so that Philip, the parrot and the rest of the company are going through three sets of adventures all at the same time. This is most trying for me, and fully accounts for the stars. Which I hope you'll excuse. However.
(Nothing special to say here. I'm just going to let the beauty of that paragraph stand on its own.)

'The more a present costs you, the more it's worth,' said Mr. Noah. 'This has cost you so much, it's the most splendid present in the world.'
(Look, a moral lesson - just hiding in there waiting to jump out at the unwary reader.)

'Oh, dear,' said Lucy despairingly, 'aren't there any women here? They always have more sense than men.'

'What you say is rude as well as untrue,' said the red leader; 'but to avoid fuss we will lead you and your fierce dog to the huts of the women. And then perhaps you will allow us to go to sleep.'
(More gender-preconception correction. Also, note the presence of "red leader". George Lucas must have read E. Nesbit as well.)

So there you go, excellent writing and a story about creativity, magic and the imagination. How can you go wrong?

Well, you can make reference to numerous things that are no longer commonplace (Noah's Ark set, motor veils, white dominoes, draughts, blotting pads, lead soldiers, wooden dollhouse food, etc). You can also casually accept the fact that, at that time, there was a strict social hierarchy in England and only address this book to young children of the upper class. (This is very slightly addressed in the end, but not by much.) Oh, and you can suggest that it's a good idea for children to lick lead paint off of wooden toys.

However, if you can accept the book as a product of its time, and one that did try to address inequality and prejudice, just not everywhere, it's a very enjoyable read. I burst out laughing several times (especially at the end, which I shan't spoil for you). If you like reading children's stories, it's a delight. If you have children, this would be a good read-aloud book. It's not a good children's read-on-your-own book, because of the cultural differences.

I'd give this book six stars, but E. Nesbit already did

Josh More gave 1 star to: The Ogre Downstairs

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 01:37:04 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The Ogre Downstairs by Diana Wynne Jones

0 of 2 people found the following review helpful:

Don't waste your time, February 10, 2008

I've enjoyed Diana Wynne Jones's work for years. When I got this book, I thought it would be nice to take a peek into her earlier work. Sometimes you can get hints of how an author evolves her style over time. Sometimes it gives you hints for appreciating her other work. Sometimes it gives you a backstory to characters that you already know.

Sometimes.

Not this time.

The book opens with two young boys, Caspar and Johnny. They're pretty much interchangeable except that one is older than the other. It doesn't really matter who. Their mother has recently married, horror of horrors, a man with (pause for dramatic effect) two similarly interchangeable sons. Oh, the mom also has a daughter who is effectively a plot device.

Basically, the step-father (step parents are inherently evil, as you'll remember from your fairy tales) knows that the two boys (not his) don't like him, so he tries to bribe them into liking them by buying them a chemistry set. Now, this book was published in 1974, and I assume that the chemistry sets that you could get back then had all sorts of fun stuff in it. Based on the stories that I'm hearing, kids today don't even get magnesium to light on fire, get scared by the bright light, drop it on the carpet, freak out over the smoke, attempt to smother it with a pillow, eventually remember the fire extinguisher, and then solve the "how do I not tell my parents?" problem by rearranging the furniture in their room and put the pillow in the trash. . . but I digress. This chemistry set is magic.

You can, of course, tell that it's magic because the strange chemicals have italicized Latin-esque names. That's a dead giveaway.

So, when the mom and step-father are downstairs, and the step-father is shouting for quiet so he can watch TV (a certain indicator of deep, soul destroying evil, of course), the mother's boys are playing with the chemistry set in their room, and the plot device wanders in and is stereotypically annoying. Then, she spills the chemicals on herself and gains the magical power of flight.

Such powers are less than effective indoors.

It dawns on me, at this point, that the novel might be intended to teach children the importance of conserving our natural resources, because the rest of the book is primarily focused on trying to not run out of the limited quantity of magical Latinates. Conveniently, there are sufficient amounts of the various magical chemicals for both sets of interchangeable youths to experiment with their mutual chemistry sets and more or less determine what they do... yet have small enough amounts yet to place them in jeopardy when they have their trivial adventures due to them not playing together.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the step-father's boys also have a chemistry set of their own, but that's OK, Jones forgets to make that clear too. Apparently, in England in the early 70s, one gets two sets of children to play together by putting them in separate rooms with separate toys.

*shrug*

Anyway, things move forward. The parents squabble because raising five children is difficult when they don't get to meet one another until after you get married. It's also difficult when you don't bother to introduce the new parents to the children until after the wedding. Apparently causes stress. Who knew? Oh, it's also a good idea to discuss how finances might change when you go from a three person household to having to support seven people. . . I'm just saying is all.

The children have a series of tedious adventures whereby:

* They fly and almost run out of the magic chemical that keeps them in the air.
* They shrink and almost get caught by the oh-so horrendous step father... who is yelling in italics by now.
* They switch bodies and almost have a learning experience by living one another's lives for a day.
* They bring their toys to life, including their step-father's pipe, which almost gets them in trouble. (This one was actually kinda cool, except that you have to know what toffee bars and construction sets are. Toys have changed a lot since this book was published. Oh, and you can't say "Lego", so you have to say "brightly coloured plastic building brick" instead... gotta stay legal ya know.)
* They turn invisible, which is apparently the same as turning into a wrathful murderous ghost. I tell you, you learn something new every day. Oh, they almost murder their step-father, but they don't
* They create a group of angry mushroom people that only speak Greek, and fight for their lives against them... almost bonding in the process.

The step-father also tries to bribe the mother's kids by giving them footballs (which, since this story is English, I chose to interpret as soccer balls), but, given that he is the antichrist, the footballs are pink and the boys lives are ruined forever.

The mother can't take the stress and goes to stay with her sister... and doesn't bother to tell her kids that she's going. The step-father also doesn't see a need to tell them where she want, preferring to tell the kids that "she's gone away". Of course, the kids assume that their step-father murdered their mother, thereby creating an excuse for the plot device to try to poison him and for the afore-mentioned murderous ghost incident.

However, in a shocking twist, it turns out that the step-father isn't evil, but just stressed, and when the kids find a way to turn base metals into gold, the money problems are magically resolved, the mother and step-father suddenly become attentive and caring parents, and all of the children magically get along. Oh, and the magic toy store, from whence the chemistry sets originated, mysteriously vanishes for no reason at all.

By the way, this book advocates splashing chemicals on your siblings as well as eating the strange-looking ones. I have absolutely no idea why it didn't catch on.

Oh, and the coolest thing in the book - the living toffee bars which eat sweaters and carpeting - die horribly. Just a little warning.

I will leave you with the one really good exchange in the book, because it's not worth reading the book to get this part, but it's damn good. This is right after Gwinny (the plot device) decides to kill the Ogre's (the kids' name for the step-father) with a poisoned cupcake, feels guilty about it and confesses:

"I put," she sobbed, "I put Noct. Vest. out of Malcolm's chemistry set."

"Well, that's supposed to be nontoxic," said the Ogre. "Maybe there's no harm done."

"But I put six of Mummy's sleeping pills squashed-up in it," continued Gwinny, "and detergent and the bottle from the cupboard that says Poison and some firelighter and ammonia, and then I rolled it on the floor to get germs and spat on it for more germs, and instead of sugar on the outside I put the burning kind of soda. And I think it ended up awfully poisonous."

Josh More gave 5 stars to: The Tower at Stony Wood

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 01:33:05 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

The Tower at Stony Wood by Patricia A. McKillip

A tapestry, February 10, 2008

My grandmother died when I was young. Mostly, my memories of her are of her being sick and in a wheelchair. However, my absolute earliest memory of her was when she was sitting at her loom. To a four year old, a loom is a fascinating device (and one that should not be touched by grubby hands). It's gigantic and full of strings and things. When your grandmother sits at it, it whistles and hums, and string magically turns into blankets.

As an adult, weaving is fascinating, but from a very different perspective. It is a linear process, where you stack the threads up and form an image or pattern over time. Embroidery, by contrast, leaps around as the artist can choose the colour, location, and type of stitch. Weavers are somewhat more limited in their possible techniques. This limitation makes tapestries all the more impressive, as unlike embroidery, a weaver must hold the entire design in their mind as they work. If something must be changed, the work must be unraveled to the point of change and then re-woven.

Whether the pictures are formed through embroidery or weaving, the eye appreciates them the same way as painting, photography and other image-based art. The challenge of the artist is that the viewer will never "see" the piece in the same way as the artist. The artist can guide the viewer's eye through a combination of colour, placement, and contrast. In painting and embroidery, the artist can also use variations in texture. However, the artist has no direct control over the viewer.

Interestingly, the written world is the exact opposite. The author has the freedom to write in whatever order they choose. They can write parts of the story out of order. They can unravel parts of the plot and change things as they go with complete impunity. However, the reader must (generally) appreciate the work in a linear fashion. Thus, the writer has the combination of freedom over the work combined with control over the reader.

This is what makes The Tower at Stony Wood all the more interesting. When I started reading it, it was a confusing story about two men and their respective attachments and driving forces (family, girlfriend, honor and freedom, to be precise). It's a story about a mother and her daughter and how the magic they deny themselves traps them in their lives. It's also a story about Fate.

It's hard to read. The perspective shifts from character to character and the personal pronouns are incredibly difficult to follow. It's even harder because the magic happens "behind the scenes" leaving the reader utterly befuddled as to what is real and what is not as people transform into other people, embroidery transforms into that which it depicts, memories change and retroactively alter the plot.

It turns out, in the end, that Patricia McKillip wrote a book that must be read in the same way that one weaves a tapestry. By the end, and only at the end, do you understand why everything had to happen in exactly the same way it did. You understand why she picked the threads that she did, why the characters are placed where they are, and why the Fates are commonly depicted with a loom.

When I've read the Greek myths, I always envision Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos standing in a dark cave... but with my grandmother's loom. When I think of Patricia McKillip, I envision her sitting at an old fashioned writing desk... in the same room that my grandmother's loom used to be.

Much like a watching your grandmother weave a blanket, you don't fully appreciate this book while you're in the process... you appreciate it once you're done and you look at it and think "Wow".

Josh More gave 1 star to: Zima Blue and Other Stories

Wed, 6 Feb 2008 16:45:12 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Zima Blue and Other Stories by Alastair Reynolds

3 of 9 people found the following review helpful:

Awful stories, glad I'm done reading it., February 6, 2008

Warning, this review is non-spoilery, but quite negative. If you're a Reynolds fan, you are as welcome to a differing opinion as I am to mine.

Over the weekend, I finished reading Zima Blue and Other Stories by Alastair Reynolds. To be fair, I only picked this up because he is to be the guest of honor at Minicon, and I thought I should give him a try. Interestingly, I was then sitting at home, the book was on my stack, and a friend noted the author and said "Yeah, I had to stop reading him. Too depressing."

In nutshell, I have to say that this is the last book of his that I intend to read. He's too depressing.

Going to a deeper level, of the various stories here, they all tended to end on something of a downer. Sometimes this can be good, as in "Beyond the Aquila Rift", which delves into just how alien alien worlds can be. However, it's not generally so good, and the entire volume reads as a combination of a mishmash of events and a catalog of missed opportunities. I was happy when I finished the last story, not because it was happy (it was NOT), but because I didn't have to read any more of his stories.

His protagonists lack a certain positivity that seems to be inherent in the characters that I like. In most of my favorite stories, characters will overcome adversity. In these stories, the characters surrender to it. The depression is offset by some decent physics... though Reynolds does seem to have something of a black hole fetish (taking appreciation of super massive bodies to a whole new level). However, this offet is offset by his utter lack of understanding of evolutionary biology. It is ridiculous to assume that evolution will halt once humans start living in space, especially as evolutionary changes increase in the face of stressors.

* "The Real Story" explores the man who first landed on Mars and the woman who is interviewing him. It does not end satisfactorily for either.
* "Beyond the Aquila Rift" is excellently written and a brilliant idea from the beginning to anti-penultimate page, after which it all falls down a deep dark hole. (Metaphorical, not literal... that comes later). Stargate did a better job with the concept.
* "Enola" is a post-apocalyptic story about machines that is ruined by a lack of mathematically-realistic metric terms. It ends in a way to irritate the reader, which would work well except that I was already irritated by "Beyond the Aquila Rift". It's also twice as long as it should be, and still doesn't explain things satisfactorily. This should be taken back in time and re-written by Theodore Sturgeon.
* "Signal to Noise" is a brilliant concept with characters that are almost realistic... but since they're not, it doesn't work. The end was predictable and utterly irrelevant to me. This is a classic example of a "neat idea" that is ruined by poor relationship writing. Sadly, many "hard scifi" authors suffer from this problem.
* "Hideaway" explores a far future and is one of the stories that I hated due to a disregard of evolution. That, and the fact that there is a whole of start-stop action that takes FOREVER to get to the point, and when we finally get there, it's not really worth the journey. Oh, and it's got black holes for no good reason.
* "Merlin's Gun" is the sequel to "Hideaway", in that one character makes it to the sequel. This would be good if he were written (even marginally) as the same person. It's also a sequel in that we get more black holes! You know how Alien had one alien, and was scary, and Aliens had to add a LOT more aliens to be almost as scary? He did that with black holes here. They have the advantage of being marginally useful to the plot, but the phrase "Rocks fall, everyone dies" would have worked just as well.
* "Angels of Ashes" gets the benefit of the doubt as it was clearly written with Catholic symbologies, and as I am not a Catholic, I might have missed something. However, the core premise is that of the quantum anthropomorphic principle (if you know what that is, you wouldn't enjoy the story, so I'm not spoiling anything), and could have been better.
* "Spirey and the Queen" is cool. I wouldn't go out and get the book for this one story, but it's a neat idea and I actually cared about one of the characters. It made sense, and though some of the twists were unnecessary, it was enjoyable.
* "Understanding Space and Time" would have been EXCELLENT were it half as long. As it stands, it's just depressing in that "the world sucks, but I accept it" sort of way. Of course, there is a black hole. No reason for one, mind you. There are many many ways to reach the same end without one, but there's one anyway. Maybe he's got a quota?
* "Zima Blue" is a brilliant idea that ends just as it should. It's well crafted though a trifle wordy. Also, I recommend that the wrist-slitting knife be rusty, 'cause it will hurt more -- thus magnifying its depressing brilliance once you're done with it.

In conclusion, this is a good book to read and be able to say "Yes, I've ready Alastair Reynolds" and then change the subject. It's also good if you've just been dumped, gotten fired, or had a friend die and need something other than alcohol to drive you to your own person nadir. However, it's excellent if you have the need of an approximately rectangular solid 9.1 x 6.3 x 1.2 inches (or 2.31E8 x 1.6E8 x 3E8 nanometers, if you're a Reynolds fan).

Of course, if you have a decent wooden plank and saw, you can make your own.

Josh More gave 5 stars to: Portable Childhoods

Wed, 6 Feb 2008 16:43:58 GMT

Josh More reviewed:

Portable Childhoods by Ellen Klages

Phenomenal second book, February 6, 2008

There are stories, and there are Stories. The former are idle pleasantries, constructed to amuse, entertain, teach, or otherwise create an effect. The latter, ah the latter, are not constructed but rather, are born. They exist for no other purpose other than it is entirely right and proper that they do, and (I suspect) are written for no other reason than that they must be. In the last few weeks, I have been lucky enough to encounter, not one,
but TWO volumes of the latter.

They come to me on two very different paths, yet two that are entirely appropriate.

Portable Childhoods by Ellen Klages, arrived very directly. At Minicon, last year, I asked Charles de Lint what I should read next, since I had run out of Nina Kirki Hoffman books, He recommended The Green Glass Sea, which Dreamhaven was kind enough to let me purchase. So, I was looking for her next one, and Amazon.com notified me when it came out. I just finished reading it.

Interestingly enough, "Basement Magic" and "In the House of the Seven Librarians" bookend in similarly to Courting Disasters, with the latter ending the book with hope. The former is quite difficult to read, but the latter is joy from the beginning to the end. I don't want to spoil anything in it, but if you like books, you MUST read "In the House of the Seven Librarians".

* "Intelligent Design" has a very interesting take on the creation of the universe. I've seen similar, but nothing quite like this -- a perfect example of inspiration from a quote.
* "Triangle" is horrible and will make you cry. Of course, it's excellently written too. Many will appreciate it, but it may not be a pleasant read.
* "Flying Over Water" is about when you're not exactly a child anymore and not yet an adolescent. For those of us who had difficulty with this transition (all of us?), it's hard to read... and it's sad.
* "Mobius, Stripped of a Muse" and "Be Prepared" are experimental fiction.
* "Time Gypsy" is about physics and time travel. I loved it, others likely wouldn't care a whole lot.
* "Travel Agency" is about the lands within books.
* "Ringing Up Baby" is a wonderful story with a wonderful twist. Anyone who interacts with young children will like it.
* "Guys Day Out" is one of the most touching stories that I've read in a long time. It's about a boy with Down Syndrome. It's painful to read. Be warned.
* "Portable Childhoods" is an amazing story about a single mother raising a child. Unlike absolutely everything else on this list, there are no fantastic elements, no magic, no gimmicks. It's just a collection of thoughts and observations and is amazing in it's shear honesty. If you have kids or are planning to, it's a must read.