Fables: The Deluxe Edition, Book Two by Bill Willingham et. al.

The only problem with reading comics in their original single-issue format is that, if you’re like me and disorganized and somewhat absent-minded (and thus, the kind of person who finds Goodreads a godsend for its ability to help me keep track of what I’ve read and what I haven’t,) a lot of times, you don’t remember whether you’ve read this or that issue or arc, especially if your comic-reading heyday was also when you moved around a lot a/o had to put books in the rather dubious care of family members.

Anyway, I was at the library the other day, spending far too much time fruitlessly hunting down a book for work. To console myself at the disappointment, I decided to take a look at the graphic novels section, and found they had almost all of the Fables Deluxe Editions! Having read most of the first Fables when they came out in single issues, then later when they were collected as trade paperbacks and bookstores were my primary source of comics-reading material, I wanted to pick up where I’d left off… only I couldn’t for the life of me remember where that was. Also, my phone bricked that day, further adding to my glum mood, so I couldn’t check Goodreads on the fly. What better reasons to just go ahead and restart the series! They didn’t have Book One, but I was pretty certain I’d read at least that, so I snagged far too many of the following volumes to take home and read between, um, other books.

And it was a lot of fun, just having an hour or so to myself between work assignments last night, to sit down and read this volume through. I knew so much of the general story but had forgotten so many of the details, and even plot points. It was nice to delve back into it and be able to read it all in one sitting. It was also nice to be reading it with my tablet by my side so I could look up the more obscure references (e.g. Aucassin and Feathertop,) an advantage I certainly didn’t have when first reading this series, oh gosh, I don’t even want to think how long ago.

Anyway, I’m super glad the Montgomery County Public Library has these, because they’re a terrific way to re-experience one of the best comic series ever published. Great writing, great art (especially Mark Buckingham; I still think of him and Chris Bachalo as Team Chrucky,) and a great addition to the library of any comics aficionado who can afford the splurge.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/12/05/fables-the-deluxe-edition-book-two-by-bill-willingham-et-al/

Hag-Seed by Margaret Atwood

This was 324 pages, really? It breezed by so quickly, an under-rated quality in serious fiction, and I was so, so happy to not cringe my way through another of Margaret Atwood’s recent works. Of course, she’s not completely off the hook, but her modern-day adaptation of The Tempest, a novel about a man whose life parallels the play’s in so many wondrously meta ways, is a sure-handed examination of what is easily my favorite of Shakespeare’s plays, sans the tiresome preachiness that permeates her eco-dystopian novels. There are, of course, bits that align themselves too easily with the play but, as with its source material, Hag-Seed isn’t above a little hand-waving to reach a neat conclusion.

And I really, really liked how Ms Atwood translated the play into the prison setting. Her empathy with the prisoners and her support for their literacy and enrichment programs was clear throughout, as was her belief in the transformative powers of the arts. I did also find myself admiring the lyrics she wrote, tho I did keep wondering if those were Hamilton-inspired. The chapters where the prisoners described the play’s characters’ after-lives were also compelling.

I’m not sure if I’ll read more of the Hogarth Shakespeare series, but I’m really glad I picked up this one. It’s a beautifully layered, swift and elegant read that incorporated the source material in an effortlessly clever way.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/12/03/hag-seed-by-margaret-atwood/

The Sellout by Paul Beatty

I picked up this book hoping for a little comfort after the recent elections but found something else instead: stark truth served up as satire. The stark truth is rarely comforting but — and this is why the book merits four stars from me rather than three — in Paul Beatty’s hands, it is not bleak. And that’s a big deal, because hope and confidence in humanity, and not in government or in external forces but in ourselves and our immediate societies and the lives we immediately touch, are underrated sentiments that deserve to be spoken of and written of more often, and not just as platitudes but as calls to action to examine ourselves and see how we can be and do better.

The Sellout highlights the hypocrisies of modern American society, and in so doing leaves no sacred cow untipped. It skewers the notion of a post-racial society, of the idea that competition is discouraging and unnecessary, of the belief that any person, much less community, is somehow special simply by virtue of existing. It emphasizes that identity matters, but only as a secondary to good, moral actions, and that complexity is something to be engaged, not shied away from.

Unfortunately, the book itself is sloppy in terms of narrative, particularly towards the rather abrupt ending. I feel that the Supreme Court case was given too little shrift, even as I appreciated the accurate portrayal of Washington DC. I’m not 100% certain how I feel about this as a Booker prize winner, though I certainly enjoyed it more than last year’s a A Brief History Of Seven Killings. I wish I had time to look through the rest of the offerings on the shortlist, but I will say that The Sellout isn’t unworthy of the honor, by virtue of its searing, sharp message alone, if not necessarily in form.

It was also interesting to note the differences in the two library systems I considered borrowing this book from in digital format. The DC Public Library had 7 people each waiting for 15 copies, while Montgomery County’s had 1 person each waiting for 8 copies. I opted for the latter, of course.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/11/14/the-sellout-by-paul-beatty/

Glory In Death (In Death #2) by J. D. Robb

A solid near-future police procedural, with a fully realized setting that falls firmly on the side of feminism and social justice. It isn’t the most inspired mystery — I figured out whodunnit 56% of the way in — but the world building and the cop talk more than made up for it.

The thing that drove me nuts about this book, tho, isn’t even the romance between the heroine, Lt Eve Dallas, and her billionaire boyfriend, Roarke. They’re two damaged people (or assholes, if you’re feeling blunter) who don’t know how to deal with being in love so behave acutely terribly to one another. In that, it’s realistic, but it really irritates me that people find this awful behavior aspirational. Example of unacceptable behavior: when Eve is reluctant to move in to Roarke’s mansion, he moves all her stuff over without telling her. As a friend said, Eve should call herself on him, because that’s not okay.

The first few sex scenes were also pretty intense in a good way, but it just got kinda gross as the book progressed, to the point where I was wincing because some of the stuff described just sounded painful (and I’m a middle-aged married mother of three who definitely sowed her wild oats.) Anyway, I’m not turned off enough by Roarke to stop reading the series, because the rest of the book was pretty neat; I just hope that this relationship improves with time.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/11/08/glory-in-death-in-death-2-by-j-d-robb/

Baptism of Fire by Andrzej Sapkowski

Andrzej Sapkowski’s novels of the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, came late to the English-speaking world. Baptism of Fire, the third novel in a long narrative about Geralt, about wars overwhelming the world that he knows, and about a child of prophecy, was published in Poland in 1996. It was published in English in 2014, by which time editions had already appeared in Czech, Russian, Spanish, Lithuanian, German, French and Serbian. The series’ fifth (and presumably final) book will appear in English in 2017, nearly 20 years after its initial publication. I was introduced to Sapkowski’s writing in 2012 by a Russian friend, who was surprised that such a big-name author was practically unknown in my language. For someone like me who is used to thinking of English as the most important language for fantasy literature, it’s odd to feel so late to the party. But that may be the way of things in the 21st century. Kid Three is reading (in German) the fourth book in a fantasy series by Italian author Silvana De Mari; only one of them has appeared in English.

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Baptism of Fire is a middle book that does not seem to be aware there is such a thing as a middle-book problem. Sapkowski continues the wars that were set in motion The Time of Contempt. Geralt, a classic fantasy loner-hero finds that in a war-torn land, even a preternaturally gifted fighter is no match for big battalions. Over the course of the book, an unlikely company accretes around him. The scrapes that they get into and out of, and the interactions of the lively personalities — from the irrepressible poet Dandelion to the unlikely scholar Emiel Regis or the several dwarfs and gnomes in a merchant band — bring out the fun in their adventures. The action is both fun and tense. The non-titular characters are all in real danger over the course of the book, and Sapkowski has shown in previous books that he is willing to harm his hero as well, so there are no guarantees that anyone will escape a tight situation unscathed. The characters refuse to be weighed down by the dangers that beset them, adding humor and life even in the direst of straits.

The background, though, is far from jolly. Sapkowski was born in Poland not long after the end of World War II. He would have seen the effects of its devastation all around him, and all of the adults he knew as a young person were survivors of that terrible conflict in one of its most brutal theaters. The war through which Geralt moves draws on World War II and older conflicts in Polish history, notably the Swedish invasion known to Poles as Potop, the Deluge. Bodies of troops range back and forth across the land; one’s own side can be as bad for civilians as notional opponents; the military situation is often unclear, with uncertainty increasing the chances of sudden death. Within this maelstrom, Geralt is seeking the young woman Ciri, of whom prophecies speak. Sapkowski shows her intermittently, riding with bandits and increasingly gaining a taste for fighting and killing for their own sake. There is plenty of fire for these baptisms, but it is not clear that there is any grace at all.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/11/02/baptism-of-fire-by-andrzej-sapkowski/

The View from the Cheap Seats by Neil Gaiman

One of the descriptions of Neil Gaiman that has stuck in my head is “reasonably facile writer.” He used the phrase in a New Yorker profile back in 2010, and there’s a British self-deprecating quality to the description, but there’s more than a little truth to it, too. Gaiman writes quickly, and with reasonable facility, and he puts a lot out into the world. He’s found his audience, and so he’s also asked to put a lot of different things out into the world, in addition to the stories he chooses to tell and the art he chooses to make.

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The View from the Cheap Seats collects several dozen of Gaiman’s publications on subjects and people that are near and dear to him. It is “a motley bunch of speeches and articles, introductions and essays. Some of them are serious and some of them are frivolous and some of them are earnest and some of them I wrote to try and make people listen.” (p. xvii) They didn’t always; he tried to tell comics distributors that they were in a bubble market just before it burst. The warning went over about as well as such things usually do. “Make Good Art,” his 2012 commencement address for the University of the Arts in Philadelphia “became one of the most widely distributed things I’ve ever done: the videos of it online have been watched many millions of times, and it is also available as a small book, designed by Chip Kidd.” (p. 459)

I enjoy sitting down and listening to Gaiman. I can’t tell if he writes with the apparent ease that only comes after half a dozen drafts, or if the thoughts simply flow to his keyboard in their reasonable fashion, or some combination of the two. No matter, really; he’s interesting, and he points me toward additional interesting authors and creators. Taken at face value, the pieces are mostly about art: writing and telling stories or making comics, movies and music. With a few exceptions, what Gaiman thinks about life comes across indirectly, revealed by what he chooses to highlight or what he chooses to let slide by.

There’s an art, too, in the construction of the book, how he moves from several credos near the beginning, through introductions to works in various fields, into portraits of fellow artists, whether writers or comics creators or filmmakers or musicians, before closing with what he calls “real things.” The very last piece is an appreciation of Terry Pratchett, who was a friend of Gaiman’s and who died not long before the book was together. The penultimate piece recounts visits to camps where refugees from the civil war in Syria were trying to put new lives together. It’s almost the only piece in the book that touches on political events; I did wonder what took him so long. There’s a splendid piece on the Dresden Dolls, a band that his second wife was half of for seven years; it captures the immediacy of performance, the depth of Amanda Palmer’s engagement with her arts, and how much that means to Gaiman. Several of the essays feature Palmer, or aspects of Gaiman’s relationship with her, particularly as two working artists. His children from his first marriage are mentioned from time to time; his first wife (Mary McGrath) not at all.

Most of The View from the Cheap Seats concerns the creative fields where Gaiman has worked: comics, fantasy, children’s books, fairy tales. Through the twenty years of writing here, Gaiman hasn’t forgotten what drew him to any of these fields, he’s still more at home in the cheap seats than among the glittering events that his popularity gains invitations to, as his items from the Sundance film festival make plain. Some of the essays show how these genres work; others just show his delight in one creator or another — Fritz Leiber, Diana Wynn Jones, Alan Moore, Tori Amos — and sometimes shows his subject in a new light, reflected through Gaiman’s own muse. Not bad for a reasonably facile writer.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/11/01/the-view-from-the-cheap-seats-by-neil-gaiman/

Arena by Holly Jennings

I requested this book from NetGalley because the premise sounded hella intriguing: in 2054, the Virtual Gaming League hosts VR gladiatorial combat tournaments, with participants feeling all the pain of their avatars, despite the injuries and deaths staying virtual. The first female team captain in the history of the combats, Kali Ling, challenges the structure that hides deep dark, secrets.

Except they’re not really secrets. And they’re not really that interesting.

So here’s the deal, you get that Holly Jennings knows and loves her video games. And she tackles the culture of celebrity and addiction and the manipulation of the young and impressionable by cold-eyed corporations for profit — all meaty stuff. And her near-future setting offers an interesting sci-fi slant.

But oh my God, so little of it makes sense.

Even if one accepts the premise of all these gamers accepting real pain for virtual injuries and deaths (for what reason? This masochism is never explained,) the sheer lack of professionalism in any of it makes zero sense given how much corporate money is purportedly on the line. I mean, I prepped more for amateur CCG matches than these kids do for pro video games. The format in these tournaments is essentially capture the flag, and when 40% of the way into the book, Kali has a brainwave and starts thinking of studying the teams they’re facing… for real? This was not your strategy since Day One?! I went into this assuming that the reason Team Defiance, Kali’s team, got slaughtered so brutally by InvictUS in the opening pages was because they had a spy in their ranks, which would have been an interesting plot point. But no, the real reason is because InvictUS was professional and prepared. If these were amateur games, then I would totally buy Defiance’s absurd lack of foresight, but we’re repeatedly told these are pro tournaments and these kids have the experience of years.

Another thing I side-eyed: the lack of coaching staff. I get that it’s a new-ish sport, but given that these guys have dedicated trainers and simulation programmers, I’m supposed to believe they don’t have anyone to outline tactics and strategies?! No way does a corporate-sponsored team not have anything like the coaching prevalent in other pro sports, especially if we’re supposed to believe that the VGL is one of the biggest sports in America. And don’t get me started on the absurd dismissal of pro athletes as being incapable of adapting to these games the way “real” gamers would. Tons of “real” athletes are hardcore into video games, too.

None of the competitive aspects of the narrative make a lick of sense to anyone with any experience of organized sports or tournament game play, or to anyone who understands business. No way would corporate sponsors exhort their athletes to party and make the pages of the tabloids instead of eating right and getting enough sleep. Performance enhancers = believable, party drugs = stfu. I totally believe the mandated outings for publicity (I was a professional stage actress, I know the drill,) but corporate gets really, really angry when partying gets in the way of show time, or in this case, game time. Completely unbelievable.

I also had a hard time believing that Team Defiance was all 20 and 21 year-olds. They acted like 16 year-olds, especially Kali. And don’t get me started on her awful romance with Rooke. He’s your standard hot, alpha male jerk bag, but with a religious twist! See, he thinks it’s okay to press discussion of a person’s religion when specifically asked by that person not to do so. And not only does he magically manage to put her in touch with her religion despite her reluctance, her religion then gives her a competitive edge, which totally made me want to barf. I don’t mind when fiction incorporates religion into the narrative (I’m actually in the middle of a Louise Penny jag for work, with books that explore religion in a deft and respectful manner,) but I do mind when the main character is dragged to salvation in a triumphalist fashion, no matter what faith tradition it’s sourced from. This kind of writing is smug and, worse, boring. Also, I’m convinced that Rooke is a not-so-secret Asian fetishist. The entire discussion of racism in the book was excruciating, especially to me as an Asian person.

Gosh, the bigger ideas in the book have so much potential, but none of the details made sense. I’m not sure how old Ms Jennings is, but this read like it was written by a teenager with little experience of the complexities of adulthood. I requested this from Netgalley in hopes of being allowed early access to the sequel, but I’m definitely not requesting that now. I’m hoping Ms Jennings channels her talents into areas she has more experience with, as the classic video game scenes and the discussions of celebrity culture and survivor’s guilt were all compelling, but the rest of it was awful. Someone let me know if she writes something good in future. She’s definitely got potential, but Arena was not a worthwhile display of her talents.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/10/26/arena-by-holly-jennings/

The Dark Forest by Liu Cixin

I didn’t find The Dark Forest as compelling as its predecessor, The Three-Body Problem. I think a lot of it has to do with how I disagreed with Liu Cixin as to the behavior of future humanity, particularly in terms of the outlawing of Escapism, as well as the way in which the victors of the Battle Of Darkness were labeled as being inhuman and how that was attributed to their loss of a home planet. I also felt that the narrative dragged quite a bit, particularly after Luo Ji was forced to apply himself as Wallfacer and right up till he was awoken from hibernation. I also didn’t feel that the science was as gripping as in T3BP, but found that forgivable given what a tough act T3BP would be to follow in that regard.

There was a lot that I did love, however. The entire scene around the explanation of why this book is called The Dark Forest was brilliant and brutal, and I was shocked at the (much earlier) discovery of who Hines’ Wallbreaker was (even as I still don’t understand why Hines did what he did. I just don’t get how that would have saved humanity. What was the point of it?) And I was so. fucking. mad at what happened to Zhang Beihai. That badass deserves all the marbles — kudos to Mr Liu for making me care about an utter bastard. I did also greatly enjoy how Mr Liu dragged me to the brink of utter despair at the fate of humanity only to… well, you should read this book. It’s not as easy or breathtaking as book 1 in the series but it’s still worthwhile. Plus, there’s Da Shi being as awesome as he was in T3BP, and I’d read about his exploits any time.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/10/18/the-dark-forest-by-liu-cixin/

A Night in the Lonesome October by Roger Zelazny

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By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way puns. Several somethings, actually, in Roger Zelazny’s seasonal romp, A Night in the Lonesome October. Those things are not to be confused with the Things in the Mirror, the Thing in the Circle, the Thing in the Wardrobe, the Thing in the Steamer Trunk, or the Thing in the Attic; all of those are kept in place by faithful watchdog and narrator Snuff. He serves his master, Jack, even as they skulk about foggy London streets, evading both the regular police and the Great Detective. (He’s the one in the deerstalker hat, holding a dramatic pipe and observing very closely.)

Their tasks in London mostly done, Snuff and Jack relocate to the countryside, for this is a year when the full moon falls on Halloween and a Game for very high stakes is about to begin. Possible players include the Count, a Russian monk, a witch, a druid, and more, all with their animal familiars. Some will act together when the stars are right to open a gate and bring the Elder Gods back into the world; others will band together to try to slam the gate shut. Until the last night, though, no one is sure who is on which side. They spy, steal, thrust and feint, trying to gain advantage before the big night comes.

Zelazny relates it all with aplomb, never giving too much away too soon, and never taking the end of the world too terribly seriously.

Made the circuits. The Thing in the Circle changed shapes, finally making itself look like a lady dog of attractive person and very friendly disposition. But I was not fooled into breaking the Circle. It didn’t have the smell part down yet.
“Nice try,” I told it.
“You’ll get yours, mutt,” it said.
I walked past the various mirrors. The Things locked in them gibbered and writhed. I showed them my teeth and they writhed away.
The Thing in the Steamer Trunk pounded on the sides and hissed and sputtered when it became aware of my sniffing about. I snarled. It hissed again. I growled. It shut up. (p. 5)

Snuff makes friends with the witch’s cat, although he suspects they are working for the other side. They discuss what a sneaking rat, Bubo, might have seen at Snuff and Jack’s residence.

“But I heard him come in, and I know just where he was. All he got to see was the Things in the Mirror.” [Snuff is speaking]
“Things in the Mirror?” [asks the cat, Graymalk]
“Yes. Don’t you have any?”
“Afraid not. What do they do?”
“Slither.”
“Oh.”
“Come on. I’ll show you.”
“You sure it’s all right?”
“Yes.”
Later, she placed a paw against its reflection as she stared.
“You’re right,” she said. “They—slither.”
“Change colors, too, when they get excited.” (pp. 49–50)

There are twists and turns, and moons to howl at. Players attack, traps are laid, plans made. Soon all is ready for the Game’s final moves.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/10/11/a-night-in-the-lonesome-october-by-roger-zelazny/

The Vanquished by Robert Gerwarth

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At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918, the guns fell silent, ending more than four years of terrible war in Europe. First as Armistice Day and later as Remembrance Day, European (and Commonwealth) countries even now commemorate the end of the First World War nearly a century after the event. Except the armistice in Western Europe is at best half the story. As Robert Gerwarth details in The Vanquished, war, civil war, and revolution continued in Central and Eastern Europe for years after fighting in the west had ceased. His subtitle is Why the First World War Failed to End, 1917–1923, and even that does not encompass the full extent of the fighting and suffering. Gerwarth makes a good case for linking the First and Second Balkan Wars (1912–13) to the First World War. From that perspective, the Balkans saw fighting from 1912 through 1919, and dislocation even later as population exchanges after the end of the Greek-Turkish War forced hundreds of thousands from their homes.

Drawing on original sources across the whole of Central and Eastern Europe (including Anatolia and the Caucasus), Gerwarth argues that the continuation of the First World War should be examined across the whole region, and not in national isolation. Europe’s land empires collapsed, leaving behind them revolutions and new states, many with competing claims to the same lands and peoples.

The revolutions that occurred between 1917 and 1923 could be socio-political in nature, pursuing a redistribution of power, land, and wealth, as was the case in Russia, Hungary, Bulgaria and Germany; or they could be ‘national’ revolutions, as was the case in the shatter-zones of the defeated Habsburg, Romanov, Hohenzollern and Ottoman empires, where new and re-emerging states, inspired by the ideas of national self-determination, sought to establish themselves. The simultaneous occurrence and frequent overlap of these two currents of revolution was one of the peculiarities of the years between 1917 and 1923. (p. 10)

Continue reading

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2016/10/05/the-vanquished-by-robert-gerwarth/