“The secret to crypsis is placing yourself among things you look like, but in a scene where no one will expect you, like Willie Nelson with Lithuanian peasants.”
Essays are short pieces in which the author attempts to set down their thoughts. They can be formal or informal, informative or fanciful. This book is a set of prose essays by Amy Leach, collecting them from various previous publications. The title is inspired by an epigraph from John Donne. Inside, the essays are divided into “Things of Earth” (primarily plants and animals) and “Things of Heaven” (primarily space objects.)
Ms. Leach’s language is poetical and heavy on the similes. I am happy to report that it works most of the time, and is pleasant to read. The words flow smoothly as the ideas dance from one related topic to another. My personal favorite of the essays is “Goats and Bygone Goats” as my family raised these creatures on our farm long enough ago that many of the memories are pleasant. The essay “God” on the other hand came across as pretentious. And “The Safari” just goes on and on with its extended animals as memories metaphor.
The edition I have is from Milkweed Editions, with rough-cut pages and illustrations by Nate Christopherson. I like the illuminated beginning capitals. There’s a short glossary at the end that sometimes makes certain words clearer in meaning.
These short, calm pieces make the book a good choice to read between heavier or more emotionally demanding material; this is a good book to read before bedtime, or sipping a cup of tea. It also sounds good read aloud.
Book Review: The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen
Kay and Gerda are best friends who live in adjacent garrets, and often visit each other across the roof, where their parents have installed flower boxes with rosebushes. They are like brother and sister, and very happy together until one day Kay’s personality changes. He has been pierced in heart and eye by shards of the Devil’s distorting mirror, so now Kai only sees the flaws and ugliness of people, and his heart is slowly turning to ice.
In mid-winter, Kay recklessly goes sledding without Gerda or any other companion, and winds up hitching his sled to the sleigh of the Snow Queen. As it happens, the queen of all snow has seen Kay before, and decides to keep him, kissing away his memory of family and friends. Everyone else is convinced that Kay has frozen to death or drowned in the river, but Gerda is not so sure. When the weather thaws, Gerda goes looking for Kay, having many adventures along the way.
This is one of the many fairy tales written by Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875), one of Denmark’s most famous authors. First printed in 1844, it’s also one of his longest fantasy works (but still only about forty pages without illustrations) and much acclaimed. It’s been adapted many times, and has inspired other works such as the movie Frozen.
Since this is a public domain story, easily downloadable for free from Project Gutenberg, or available at your local library in the children’s section, the main reasons to look at this particular edition are the fresh translation by Jean Hersholt and illustrations by Finnish-heritage artist Sanna Annukka. The language flows well (though parents will want to read it with their children the first go-round to explain some of the words.) The illustrations are striking, and perhaps a little frightening in places (this would be a good time to introduce young readers to the variety of Scandinavian art.) The art is very stylized, which works well for the magical beings involved in the story.
The Snow Queen is very much steeped in Scandinavian Christian folklore, from the hobgoblin who is in fact the Devil and his cruel mirror, to Gerda’s prayers bringing angels to defend her in time of need. It’s stated that Gerda’s simple faith and innocence give her power–it never occurs to her that it’s odd to be able to speak to flowers (but not get much out of the exchange) or that a robber girl will suddenly choose to help her on her quest rather than kill her.
And this tale is surprising rich in female characters: the wise Grandmother, alien Snow Queen, selfish Flower Witch, clever Princess and wild Robber Girl, as well as sweet Gerda herself. Some of these characters would make good stories with their own adventures. It’s notable that there is no confrontation with the Snow Queen at the end–she’s away on a business trip when Gerda arrives to free Kay. Perhaps this is for the best, as someone must see that snow gets where it belongs.
One aspect that may be troubling for parents is that after Kay is affected by the distorting mirror, he only finds beauty in mathematics, logic and symmetry. He’s noted for being able to do arithmetic in his head–with fractions!
The book has sturdy covers and thick pages, so should survive frequent re-reading by youngsters well. Recommended to families that don’t already have a copy of this classic tale, and people who like this style of art.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from Blogging for Books for the purpose of writing this review. No other compensation was requested or offered.
And now, let’s have the trailer of a Finnish movie adaptation!
Magazine Review: Astounding Science-Fiction January 1946 edited by John W. Campbell, Jr.
Before Analog (see previous reviews), there was Astounding, the science fiction magazine that led the field for many years. Having gotten a copy of an issue from the pulp days, let’s take a look at what wonders lie within. Despite the cover date, the ads indicate it came out in early December 1945.
The lead and cover story is part one (of two) of “The Fairy Chessmen” by Lewis Padgett (a pseudonym for Henry Kuttner working with C.L. Moore.) It is roughly a century into the future, and the world is at war…again. After World War Two, the governments of Eurasia had crumbled, and reformed as the Falangists. They and America are the two superpowers and implacable enemies. Thanks to atom-bomb-proof shields and robot warfare, the war has stalemated for years.
Most Americans live deceptively peaceful lives in scattered communities on the surface, while the warmen toil in vast underground cities whose actual locations are closely guarded secrets. Low Chicago might be below the ruins of Old Chicago, or anywhere in the Midwest. Of course, in such conditions claustrophobia and other mental illnesses are a continuing concern, and it’s up to the Department of Psychometrics to keep the warmen in good mental health.
Which is why it’s concerning that Cameron, the head of the department, has been having hallucinations of eyeball doorknobs and talking clocks. He’s trying to keep it a secret, but his help is desperately needed by the War Department. It seems they have captured a scientific formula from the enemy, one that drives anyone who studies it mad (sometimes giving them strange powers in the process. For example, the levitating man who thinks he’s Muhammad’s corpse.)
There are time travel shenanigans involved, and one character seems determined to produce a specific future. The title comes from “fairy chess”, variants of the strategy game that use changed rules, such as a knight that can only capture backwards, or a 10×10 board. The formula changes the rules of physics, sometimes in mid-equation, and scientifically trained minds crack under the strain.
A nifty throwaway (probably) bit is the existence of “fairylands”, miniature cities with tiny robots that people play with ala the Sims. There’s also an amusing typo when one character claims he’s “half misogynist” when he means “misanthrope.”
Unfortunately, this novel is long out of print, so I have no idea how it ends. The cliffhanger is neat: “The edges of the spoon thickened, curled, spread into cold metallic lips. And kissed him.”
“N Day” by Philip Latham (pen name of R.S. Richardson) concerns an astronomer who discovers the sun is about to go nova. He tells the world, but is dismissed as a crackpot. (Had there been more time, someone would have checked his math and found him correct.) As a result, he finds his spine for the first time in decades.
“Veiled Island” by Emmett McDowell takes place on Venus (the pulp Venus of swamps and jungles.) A three-person anthropological team goes in search of the title island to investigate reports of a new variant of human. Apparently, unlike Earth, Venus just keeps producing new human variants out of the swamps which then climb up the ladder of civilization as they travel to the other side of the planet.
The Earthlings promptly crash-land, losing their clothing and supplies–they themselves have to start from scratch. While struggling to survive, they run into the new variant of humans they were looking for. A variant that seems destined to replace homo sapiens.
The sexism is pretty thick here, the action guy protagonist denigrates his female colleague for wanting to be treated as an equal, calling her a “tomboy” and the type who would have been a suffragette back in the day. (Apparently something like feminism happened in this future, but he’s not too keen on the results.) Over the course of the story, she comes to realize how awesome he is, and they are planning to get married (in the now considered barbaric Twentieth Century fashion) at the end.
The evolutionary science is suspect–emotionlessness is viewed as a huge evolutionary advantage that will allow the new species to outcompete other humans and replace them.
“A Matter of Length” by Ross Rocklynn (pen name of Ross Louis Rocklin) takes place in a far future with galactic travel. A stable mutation has created a new kind of human, the “double-brained” Hypnos, who have the ability to hypnotize ordinary humans. They are not physically distinguishable from other humans, but can be detected by “Sensitives.” Hypnos face severe prejudice, and there’s a war going on between societies that want to exterminate them and those that tolerate them.
All that is background. A Hypno named Joe has been captured by anti-Hypno forces, and was being shipped back to their planet for a show trial and execution when the ship went off-course and landed on a planet where time has gone wonky. There’s a paranoid belief among some of the crew that Joe somehow caused this, or is making them hallucinate this, despite the anti-mind control forcefield surrounding his cell. Eventually, the time wonkiness allows Joe to escape, and he rescues the two people on the ship who are not entirely anti-Hypno.
It turns out that Hypno powers have been vastly exaggerated as propaganda by the anti-Hypno forces; Joe never actually uses his mind control abilities during the course of the story. It’s the holding cell force field that gives him the temporary advantage he needs as it shields him from the time wonkiness for a while. Keitha, the Sensitive woman who tracked him down, is dismayed to learn that she’s next on the extermination list after all the Hypnos have been eliminated (as Sensitives are Hypno/ordinary human crossbreeds.)
Apparently, there are also longevity treatments in this future, as the captain of the anti-Hypno ship holds a grudge against the Hypnos for the death of his daughter nearly a century before, with the war starting later. (It’s a “failure to save” instance–a doctor who was secretly a Hypno couldn’t cure the daughter from a fatal disease, and when his secret was revealed, he was lynched for deliberately killing a human girl.)
“The Plants” by Murray Leinster takes place on a planet with only one form of life. Plants with flowers that follow the sun…or anything unusual that happens. Four men whose spaceship was sabotaged crash-land on the planet. Are they more in danger from the pirates that sabotaged the ship for its precious cargo…or from the plants? A story that has some creepy moments, and could have gone full on horror if the author wanted.
“Fine Feathers” by George O. Smith is the final fiction piece. It’s a science fiction retelling of the fable “The Bird with Borrowed Feathers” usually ascribed to Aesop. A ruthless businessman discovers a way to artificially boost his intelligence by energizing his brain. The process renders the user sterile (somehow) but since he wasn’t interested in having children, Wanniston considers that a small price.
Being superhumanly intelligent gives Wanniston a huge advantage over his fellow Earthmen, and he is soon the most powerful businessman on the planet. But he yearns for more, and when a suicide trap makes it untenable for Wanniston to stay on Earth, he decides to join Galactic civilization, where dwell people who have come to super-intelligence by eons of evolutionary processes. He keeps using the brain energizer, and is soon even more intelligent than the Galactic Ones.
Being logical beings, the Galactic Ones recognize Wan Nes Stan’s (as he now calls himself) superior intellect, and are willing to install him as their leader…as soon as his experience catches up to his intelligence in a few centuries. Wan Nes Stan tries to shortcut the process, only to discover his true limitations and destroy himself.
The story bookends with identical dialogue at the beginning and end, which would be effective if the language in those conversations wasn’t so stilted. It also uses the 10% of your brain gimmick (which admittedly was less debunked back then.)
John W. Campbell’s editorial “–but are we?” is prescient on the subject of nuclear proliferation though thankfully humanity has survived so far.
There are two science fact articles. “Hearing Aid” by George O. Smith is a very short piece on radio proximity fuses. “Electrical Yardsticks” by Earl Welch is about the international standards for the volt, ampere and ohm; how they were decided, and how they are maintained. Lots of math here, and possibly the technology is dated, but likely fascinating reading if you want to know more about electrical engineering.
I liked the Leinster piece best because of the thin line it walks between horror and SF; “The Fairy Chessmen” has some great imagery, but with only part one I can’t judge its full effectiveness.
Overall, an average issue, but well worth looking up for old-time science fiction fans.
Book Review: The A-Z of You and Me by James Hannah
Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy of this book from the publisher for the purpose of writing this review. No other compensation was requested or received. As an ARC, there may be changes between the review copy and the final product. (In specific, the “book club questions” section at the back was not finalized.)
Ivo is in a hospice with kidney failure. While he is definitely dying, it may take weeks or even months. To help Ivo keep his sanity, night shift nurse Sheila suggests a game. Naming a body part for each letter of the alphabet, and telling a story about it. Ivo starts with “Adam’s Apple” for “A”, remembering how he learned the story of that name, and continuing on to…that would be telling.
Most of the stories pertain to Ivo’s ex-girlfriend Mia (the “you” of the title) and their small group of acquaintances: Ivo’s sister Laura, her sexy friend Becca, Ivo’s best friend Mal and his other mate Kelvin. Slowly we learn pieces of their past together and why Ivo and Mia split up.
This is a first novel from British author James Hannah, and has apparently been successful enough in his native land to warrant an American release. There are some Briticisms in the language used that might require readers unfamiliar with British culture to check the internet. Interesting, then, that the title actually works better in American English.
The structure of the novel means that we get dribs and drabs of information as the time frame of Ivo’s memories and his present day experiences in the hospice skip about. In some cases, we see the consequences of actions well before we learn what the actions were. Readers who prefer a straightforward plotline might feel frustrated.
Ivo’s made some rather poor life choices; among other things, he’s abused drugs, made doubly unsafe by his being a diabetic. It’s also clear that his friendship with Mal had become toxic well before Ivo figured this out. Mal is laddish in the negative sense: rowdy, immature, rather sexist and casually insensitive to his and Ivo’s girlfriends. He also enables Ivo’s drug abuse because he can’t quite understand the seriousness of possible consequences.
Mia is a little harder to get a handle on, as we see her through Ivo’s rose-colored memories. She’s a swell lady, apparently, though perhaps her decisions were also not the wisest.
As a result of previous events, Ivo has been pushing people away–we learn that he’s worked at a garden center for a couple of decades, but never directly see or hear from one of his fellow employees. Now, at the end, with his world shrunk to the hospice, he has to learn to reconnect. Even with people he never wanted to see again.
The writing is competent, but I think the story would better suit people who like the slow reveal/not much actually happens sort of contemporary literature.
Content: In addition to drug abuse, there’s rather a lot of rude language, particularly in flashbacks to Ivo’s teen years. If you’re new to British slang, you might even pick up some new naughty words. This is very much a novel about adult concerns, so I would not recommend it below college age.
Overall, this is a decent first novel, which I would recommend to folks who enjoy the idea of telling a story through an alphabet game.
Book Review: Time Frames: A Speculative Poetry Anthology edited by Terry A. Garey
Poetry related to the various genres of speculative fiction (SF, fantasy, horror, etc.) is pretty common. You can see samples by ones or twos in many magazines and spec-fic collections. But full hardback anthologies of speculative poetry are rare. So Rune Press in Minnesota brought out one in 1991, and I recently got my hands on a copy.
The slim volume features eleven poets; the only name I recognized immediately was Ruth Berman, who starts the volume and has a couple of nice pieces involving the Oz books. From her “Wizard’s Road”:
Home in Omaha at last
It was hard to believe
In a probable world.
To be honest, most of these poems are the modern free verse stuff I don’t fully understand, and don’t know good from bad. There are a few exceptions with more formal rhyme and scansion, and one attempt at a rare Welsh form called a “toddaid.” It’s not very good, but I appreciate the poet’s effort to stretch. I did like Roger Dutcher’s “The Smart House” about an AI-run domicile that learns from other houses’ mistakes.
The book ends with John Calvin Rezmerski’s “Challengers”, a memorial to the Challenger disaster of 1986. I do not know if the poem moved me of itself, or because of my lingering sorrow over the event.
As is often the case with poetry, those who are trained in its ways may enjoy it much more than I. It is, I understand, quite rare, so you may have trouble tracking down a copy.
Magazine Review: Water~Stone Review Volume 18: All We Cannot Alter edited by Mary François Rockcastle.
This is the latest volume of Hamline University’s annual literary magazine, which I picked up at the Rain Taxi Book Festival. The subtitle comes from one of the poems in this issue, “Is This What Poets Do?” by Elizabeth Oness. Thus the theme is effectively what cannot be changed, and what people do about that.
The poetry is all that modern stuff I don’t understand and thus cannot evaluate the quality of. One might well ask why I keep reading literary magazines, as they inevitably go heavy on the modern poetry. I don’t have a good answer for that. “Suckling” by Jenna Le does have some interesting pink milk imagery, and “SS Eastland Capsizes in the Chicago River, 1914″ by Renny Golden tells a fairly coherent story. “Frank’s Nursery and Crafts” by Bao Phi is a tale of bad customer service possibly exacerbated by racial prejudice, and would have worked about as well in prose as far as I can tell.
The interview by Katrina Vandenberg and Taylor (Doc) Burkhard is also about poetry, as the subject is Detroit wordsmith and slam artist Jamaal May. He talks about how he structured his first book.
From the fiction section, worth noting is “Duotone Portrait of a Dragonfly” by R.T. Jamison. It’s the story of a brief affair between a Japanese art student and an American otaku (fan of Japanese pop culture), interspersed with marks used in traditional print-making. “As You Are Now” by Jeff P. Jones is a story set during a zombie apocalypse from the point of view of a zombie that has lost the ability to interpret its senses. It’s only able to feel alive again when it is eating the living, but that soon passes.
The best of the “creative non-fiction” category is Paul van Dyke’s “Goomey and Aflow”. An Iraq War veteran and a Somali refugee bond over their experiences as soldiers and names that are unpleasant enough no one will bother to insult you further. They may be beaten down, but not permanently. “The Café Book” by Charisse Coleman imitates the Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon with lists and random thoughts.
The photography section is random and nothing particularly stands out. There’s also a longish essay on “Mood Rooms” which is apparently cut down from an even longer piece. It’s so-so.
There are two book review columns, one of which is all modern poetry books and largely impenetrable to me. The other one is supposedly about books of essays, but half of the books discussed are actually more modern poetry, which I think is a cheat.
This volume is a good way to get a broad view of what the Midwestern literary community is up to, and if you are into modern poetry, I think you will enjoy it much more than I did. I should also note that the 2016 volume is accepting submissions through December; aspiring writers might want to give it a shot.
Book Review: The Blue Fairy Book edited by Andrew Lang
Once upon a time, (1889 to be specific), British children did not have access to collections of fairy tales. Educators of the time thought fairy tales were too unrealistic and harmful to children, and beneath adults. Mr. Lang felt differently; he had delighted in such tales when young, and the Grimm Brothers had done quite well with their books. He selected stories from many countries, and his wife and other translators brought the foreign ones into English for the first time.
The Colour Fairy Book series was a huge hit, running twelve volumes (finishing with The Lilac Fairy Book in 1910. But since the Blue book was the first, it’s been the most reprinted (and the one I review here is the 2012 Barnes & Noble edition.)
The first thing I was reminded of was how random fairy tales seem at times. Our hero or heroine will be walking along to get to the main plot, but there is suddenly a glass mountain in the way, and it’s time to work for a blacksmith for seven years to earn iron shoes. Or a wish will be made for a ship that has St. Nicholas at the helm.
The stories have been bowdlerized (edited to be “safe for children”) which seems to do little to tone down the violence, but I note a couple of stories where a man comes to a woman’s bed and promptly falls asleep there…suspicious. Other stories seem to have the numbers filed off–“The Terrible Head” is the story of Perseus without any of the names.
I also notice a strong theme of materialism. Humble and giving though many of the good characters are, there’s a lot of attention paid to sacks of gold, diamond-encrusted dresses, houses with so many rooms you could not visit them in a year, and exotic, fabulous food. I was surprised when Aladdin used his genie sensibly for a quiet steady lifestyle for several years (until he falls in love with the princess, at which point it’s time to pour on the wealth.)
But still, some classic tales, others that I don’t recall reading before, and well worth looking into. There are even a couple with active heroines; “The Master-Maid” and “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves” (Morgiana is the real hero of the story.)
While the Barnes & Noble edition has a handsome, sturdy cover and overall good presentation, it leaves out several stories from the original, and more importantly, Mr. Lang’s introduction. If you’re mostly interested in reading the stories for yourself, it may be best to download it from Project Gutenberg to get the full text. The physical copy would do very nicely as a gift for a child with strong reading skills, or a parent looking for old-fashioned bedtime fare. To that end, I should mention that two of the stories are in Scots dialect, and you should probably rehearse before reading those to your children.
This is a sequel to the classic Osamu Tezuka work Princess Knight (“Ribon no Kishi” or “The Ribbon Knight” in Japanese), about Sapphire, a princess raised as a boy due to strange circumstances. Queen Sapphire is now married and gives birth to twins, Prince Daisy and Princess Violetta. There’s a question of succession, as the inheritance rules were changed to allow women to ascend the throne of Silverland, but don’t account for twins.
The equivalent of a coin flip makes Prince Daisy the heir apparent, which enrages the Duke and Duchess of Dahlia. They kidnap the prince and have him abandoned in the Forest of Slobb. To calm the people while the search for the missing prince is ongoing, Queen Sapphire and her husband regretfully decide to have Violetta disguised as her brother on alternate days.
Years pass, and when Violetta is in her teens, things reach a crisis point. She must leave the castle to seek out her brother, who, yes, is still alive. Many perils await, and not all who begin this fairy tale will be alive at the end of it.
Osamu Tezuka innovated in many areas of Japanese comics, and Princess Knight was one of the first shoujo manga (girls’ comics) in Japan; certainly it’s the first one anyone still remembers. This sequel was also written in the 1950s It shares the same simple but dynamic art style and attitudes towards gender issues that were progressive for the time it was written but seem outdated today.
There’s a lot of exciting action, some comedy, and a bit of confusion involving mistaken identities. Princess Violetta ends up impersonating Prince Daisy, impersonating himself! Even though Queen Sapphire is much more ladylike now, she hasn’t forgotten her sword skills. In the fairy tale tradition, there are several deaths, with the evil tending to die gruesomely (but tastefully–this isn’t a gorefest.)
An important supporting character is Emerald, Queen of the Gypsies. Although she and her people are depicted sympathetically (and Emerald is heroic when her temper doesn’t get the better of her), it’s still pretty stereotypical. Parents may want to talk to their children about the real-life Roma and the prejudice against them.
I’d especially recommend this volume (and the series it’s a sequel to) to fans of the Disney princesses, as Tezuka took a lot of his early inspiration from the Walt Disney style.