Aug 25 2020

American Royals (American Royals #1) by Katharine McGee

What a stunningly awful book.

I picked it up thinking I’d enjoy the thought experiment: what if George Washington had accepted the title of King after wresting American independence away from Britain? According to Katharine McGee, this would have dampened the global thirst for revolution, accelerated the abolition of slavery, and paved the way for racial and sexual equality. Interesting, if not outright worthy ideas all, but then they come up against the perfectly ludicrous reality Ms McGee sets up for herself in telling an incredibly stupid story of young people acting rashly while infatuated. Honestly, I felt sometimes that she only researched enough to make this sound plausible, then ignored anything that didn’t fit the dramz of it all. Infuriating.

Crown Princess Beatrice is set to be American’s first female monarch, since her grandfather rewrote the laws of succession such that the firstborn will inherit the throne regardless of gender. Pausing the summary here to point out the glaring error in causation/correlation here: male primogeniture, which still gave us loads of European queens, is super not the same as reserving the throne for only men. Presenting America as uniquely misogynistic while being racially and sexually diverse is a weirdly self-serving straight white lady take. Anyway, Beatrice is the perfect princess, poised, pretty and responsible. Tho still in her very early 20s, she’s tasked with auditioning husbands from the short list her parents have made for her from America’s most eligible gentry bachelors. But she’s in love with her hot bodyguard, Connor, and oh my God did I roll my eyes at the very idea that the Crown Princess of anywhere would ever be left alone with one young dude for the ridiculous amount of time they were given.

Her younger siblings, 18 year-old twins Samantha and Jefferson, are a handful. According to Samantha, her little brother Jefferson gets away with everything because he’s a dude while she’s just the spare, but Samantha is stupid and awful, so there’s no taking her at her word for anything. She meets Teddy — one of Bea’s eligible suitors — at her sister’s party, drags him into a closet to make out with her, then once Bea chooses Teddy for her betrothed, decides she’s in love with him. Bitch, please. Her best friend Nina has been passively in love with Jeff for years but hates all the media attention that comes with his lifestyle, so when they start dating, freaks out completely at something she’s been exposed to since she was a girl. Daphne, Jeff’s social climbing ex, is determined to get back together with him despite having secretly (the following is not a spoiler because, as with nearly every other plot point in this book, it was obvious af) fucked his “best friend” Ethan the Cardboard Cutout, who we’re told “sees her” and “knows her” despite having all the depth of a cereal box.

It’s so dumb, y’all. Everyone makes terrible choices against their own self-interests because they’re absolute idiots. Comparing this to Gossip Girl is an insult to Cecily van Ziegesaar’s excellent novels, tho maybe the TV show was this vapid, idk, I couldn’t watch more than 20 minutes before having to turn it off every. single. time (which is weird because I honestly enjoy the four very talented main actors.) And like, not only is this not how monarchy works, this is also a bizarrely wistful argument for monarchy versus our present system of representative democracy. I get it, democracy is hard work and it’s tough not to be bitter at our present system, but that a royalist like myself feels so vehemently against the systems on display in this book should tell you something about how out of touch it is with how monarchies work in the real world. It felt less like a modern consideration of political systems and more like a fantasy of paternalism, replete with not-like-other-girls and other-girls-hate-me-because-I’m-awesome characters, all of whom I wanted to punch in the face*. I understand the desire to have Daddy use his wisdom to fix the world for you but it’s childish to want magical solutions to practical problems, and certainly not the kind of thinking you want to promote in a novel ostensibly aimed at young adults.

Tl;dr this was dumb and I’m sorry I read it.

*Daphne wasn’t so bad, but it sucked that she was set up as the villain of the piece when it’s really the patriarchal system that forces her to social climb that’s to blame. Also, it was annoying af that her ambition was colored as evil whereas Teddy’s extremely similar motivations were somehow heroic. God, this book sucked.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/25/american-royals-american-royals-1-by-katharine-mcgee/

Aug 23 2020

Moneyland by Oliver Bullough

If for some reason your blood pressure is too low, this book will raise it as surely as any medicine. In Moneyland, Oliver Bullough describes in gut-wrenching detail the power of corruption in the contemporary world, how much the rich powerful and corrupt are continuously stealing from normal and law-abiding people, how thoroughly they have bent laws and public institutions to their will, and how difficult it is to fight back. Moneyland is not completely bleak, because there are ways to fight back, and because might does not always make right, but the book describes infuriating practices that are either legal or so difficult to counter that they might as well be, especially when major parts of major powers don’t care to push back. Bullough shows scheme after nefarious scheme, and all of them together are not even the tip of the iceberg.

Moneyland by Oliver Bullough

Bullough begins, not at the beginning, but with an excellent example: Paul Manafort, one of Donald Fucking Trump’s several campaign managers in his 2016 presidential effort. “According to the indictment prepared by the Office of Special Counsel, Robert Mueller, Manafort … moved some $75 million through various offshore bank accounts, much of which he used to buy high-end properties and luxury goods. He earned this money working in Ukraine, primarily for thuggish ex-president Viktor Yanukovich, and was found guilty of hiting it from the Internal Revenue Service, as well as assorted other crimes.” (p. 1) From the indictment Bullough finds out, for example, that a company Manafort controlled was based in a nondescript office in northwest London. That company controlled a bank account that paid close to $200,000 to two other businesses on the same day in 2013, and may never have done anything else. “[The company] had been created just three months earlier, and was dissolved by the UK’s Companies House a year later, something that happens automatically if companies do not file the necessary paperwork. I had come to 2 Woodberry Grover to look at the street address that was Pompolo Ltd’s supposed based of operations.” (p. 2)

It is not a productive visit. The boss is unavailable and his eventual e-mail reply is an exasperated blanket denial of any wrongdoing. What then?

Continue reading

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/23/moneyland-by-oliver-bullough/

Aug 21 2020

An Ember in the Ashes (An Ember in the Ashes #1) by Sabaa Tahir

I feel kinda bad about shitting on this book, in large part because so many people seemed to lurve it while I spent most of my time going “for real?” while I was reading it. Because, while the concept was interesting and I know Sabaa Tahir means well — ngl, I was genuinely moved to tears by some of Elias’ passages of tortured valor — it was just one of those books that is so far removed from the basic laws of reality and common sense that I could not at all suspend my disbelief to enjoy the entire novel.

Based very loosely on the Roman occupation of North Africa, An Ember In The Ashes tells the story of Laia, an impoverished but free Scholar (*cough*Egyptian*cough*) girl who lives with her grandparents and her beloved brother Darin. Their land is ruled over by Martials (this setting’s Roman analogue,) with their primary military academy of Blackcliff being located not far from where Laia lives. When Darin is arrested in a midnight raid that kills their grandparents, Laia flees to the arms of a Scholar Resistance movement that does not want her. She begs them for help freeing her brother, and they agree so long as she does something for them first: infiltrate Blackcliff as a supposedly illiterate slave girl to its sadistic Commandant and pass back vital information.

Meanwhile, Elias Veturius is eagerly awaiting his graduation from Blackcliff so he can finally cut and run from the Martial Empire that he hates. But when the ancient Augurs come knocking with news of a Trial to choose the next Emperor, he finds himself trapped, trying to head off a reign under the malevolent Farrar twins while navigating his complicated relationship with his best friend, their generation’s only female student, Helene Aquilla. When his path collides with Laia’s, they find themselves unlikely allies in a quest to overthrow the Empire.

This is a very cool concept marred by far too much ridiculousness. While I could overlook the claim that making a sling for Helene took over an hour (fifteen minutes tops, if you’re searching for straight sticks for some reason instead of using something more rudimentary) or that the second of three sparring sessions between an enraged Helene and Elias took over twenty minutes (seven minutes at most,) I totally lost it at the third trial, which made NO SENSE to anyone with half a brain. The correct answer would have been for Helene and Elias to immediately enter into single combat to defeat each other — and the terms are very clear, defeat not kill — and only a total idiot with no experience commanding soldiers would have failed to see that. I could overlook how annoying and insecure Laia was, and even how conveniently her skills and pain threshold conformed to whatever the plot required (samesies for Helene, honestly,) but the lack of any accuracy when it came to the professional soldiers’ alleged fighting, tactical or survival prowess, all in service to the plot points the author wanted to make, was absolutely enraging. The actions and responses of the Resistance also made no sense, and while I enjoyed Izzi and Cook, their presence given their skillsets made no sense either. Overall, one of those infuriating books which disrespects logic in service to conveniently overcoming plot obstacles.

I was also annoyed, in a different way, by the idea that the Scholars deserved their subjugation and enslavement because their leaders of generations past (whom I’m betting are the Augurs now dun dun DUN) trapped all the jinns but one in a fit of prideful rage. No peoples deserve to be treated as subhuman because of the behavior of some of their ancestors — every individual should be judged by their own actions and character. It’s far more realistic, and less skin-crawling, to just blame the Martial occupation on a sense of empire and greed. I’m hoping that the idea of the Scholars getting what they deserved is debunked in future books but I, for one, won’t be reading them.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/21/an-ember-in-the-ashes-an-ember-in-the-ashes-1-by-sabaa-tahir/

Aug 20 2020

The Nidderdale Murders (Yorkshire Murder Mysteries #5) by J.R. Ellis

It’s been so long since I’ve read a traditional British police procedural that starting this book was just like slipping into a nice hot bath. I mean, I’ve read my fair share of British crime novels with DCI protagonists in the years since I first picked up my dad’s copy of Martha Grimes’ Jerusalem Inn, but lately they’ve been more thriller than cozy-adjacent. Perhaps the most recent traditional was Anne Cleeves’ The Seagull back in 2017, tho The Nidderdale Murders, for someone new to J. R. Ellis’ work, was a much better introduction to the series than Ms Cleeves’ had been to hers.

The Nidderdale Murders finds DCI Jim Oldroyd called in to the small Yorkshire village of Niddergill to investigate the bizarre shooting death of local landowner Alexander “Sandy” Fraser. A former judge who’d retired to play at gentry and run a grousing moor, Sandy had no shortage of enemies, due in large part to his high-handed manner. When an eye witness sees him shot point blank with a shotgun by Alan Green, a local handyman, it seems like it ought to be an open and shut case. Only Alan had no seeming motive to shoot Sandy, and has since disappeared into thin air.

While local police go on the hunt for the missing murderer, DCI Oldroyd begins asking uncomfortable questions of the people who knew Sandy in life. He’s the sort of thorough, thoughtful investigator that is far too rare in policing, fictional or otherwise. It’s refreshing to see him not merely take the word of a single person in order to embark on what could be a fruitless manhunt, but cover all his professional bases. So when a local shopkeeper is murdered by a shotgun at point blank range, again by someone with seemingly no motive who proceeds to vanish, he’s caught less off-guard than a more single-minded, less intellectually curious detective might be.

I actually gasped out loud at the who/howdunnit reveal, so lulled was I by J. R. Ellis’ clever prose. Admittedly, there is something lulling about painstaking police information gathering — the book did feel like it dragged towards the middle as DCI Oldroyd interviewed every single person connected to the case. I also found his Detective Sergeants to be more annoying than interesting after a while, since they seemed to be there only to express admiration for how intelligent their boss was when not serving as middling comic relief. The rest of the cast of characters was pretty interesting tho, quietly defying stereotypes in ways I enjoyed. It’s nice to see so many people cooperative with the police, but I suppose that just indicates the higher level of trust in British policing than American.

This was an above average introduction to the Yorkshire Murder Mysteries, and I know I’ll definitely be turning to this series the next time I want my fix of smart, entertaining police detection in the vein of Colin Dexter’s Inspector Morse series, with the added bonus of some really lovely depictions of the Yorkshire area. Gosh, I miss being able to travel: luckily, this book helped whet my appetite for that, too, if only for a little while.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/20/the-nidderdale-murders-yorkshire-murder-mysteries-5-by-j-r-ellis/

Aug 18 2020

All-American Muslim Girl by Nadine Jolie Courtney

This has been a pretty amazing year for me in terms of discovering five star reads, and this was definitely my latest and probably most personally beloved.

So here’s the thing. When I read a book with Muslim rep, I have a habit of asking “if this was a book about believing Christians, how comfortable would I be reading this?” But I couldn’t apply that thinking to All-American Muslim Girl because I was too busy feeling it with all my All-American Muslim heart. Even now, several days after finishing it, when I’ve had a chance to take a breath and think about it, I get too emotional to really interrogate my reading. Perhaps I will revisit this subject another time!

That said, oh, what a book! Our titular character is Allie Abraham, the red-headed, pale-skinned daughter of a Circassian-Jordanian dad and a blonde white-American mom who freely converted before marriage. Her family moves from university town to university town due to her dad’s job in academia, so when it comes to school, Allie’s always felt a little left out, especially as she approaches her sixteenth birthday. Now living in an Atlanta suburb, she meets a cute boy named Wells and starts falling for him. But she’s also started trying to learn more about the Muslim faith and heritage that her dad has so firmly turned his back on, which leads to all sorts of conflict, expected or otherwise.

I am ngl, I cried buckets reading this book, as Allie begins to explore Islam and find out what it means to her heart and soul. It’s one of the few books on the market about a young Muslim girl choosing faith while fighting prejudice, while also figuring out what it means to be Muslim in 21st century America. Each Muslim character in this book was so beautifully painted as an individual with his or her own connection to the faith, defying the stereotype that Muslims are a monolith. Allie’s journey to love and faith are thoughtfully and sensitively explored, unsurprising given that the book is a semi-autobiographical #OwnVoices novel. I loved it to pieces, in no small part because I felt it reflected parts of my own journey in keeping, however imperfectly, my faith.

I don’t usually comment on other people’s negative opinions of books I like but I made the mistake of deep-diving into the Goodreads reviews and had to lol at all the fundies, Muslim or otherwise, banging on about how wrong this book was in its portrayal of Islam. Nadine Jolie Courtney’s point is that Muslims aren’t a monolith, and the bitchy reviewers are all upset that she’s not advocating for a hardline interpretation of the faith, like okay, go back to hating on everyone who doesn’t believe what you do. Weirdly, all the hijabi girls offended at Allie’s religious journey reminded me of the tradish Lakota girls who bullied Marie, the heroine of another book I recently read, David Heska Wanbli Weiden’s excellent Winter Counts, for not being Native enough. Some people just get off on being more “authentic” than thou: I just wish they could see how much absurd bigotry they have in common with the people who revile them and knock it the fuck off.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/18/all-american-muslim-girl-by-nadine-jolie-courtney/

Aug 17 2020

Vader’s Little Princess (Star Wars: Darth Vader and Kids) by Jeffrey Brown

There’s going to be a bit of rambling before my review actually begins, so I apologize for that now.

I went out to my Sharing Library the other day to replenish the contents, which had been looking a little low recently. Imagine my surprise when I found it stuffed to the gills with children’s books, supplied, I suspect, from the largesse of my next door neighbor given that it has books on being a good big sister, and they’re the only family on the street with such (and don’t think I’m not jealous.) I set aside the stack of novels I’d brought out, and set about to neatly arranging the updated contents of the library, in the process deciding to take this book  for myself because it’s just too cute!

Aside: one of my dearest friends, tho we haven’t spoken in a while, is named Vaden and I kept layering his name on this adorable title, especially since he has a little girl, too (and don’t think I’m not jealous of that either!)

To the review! I honestly think that if I hand this to my nine year-old, he’d flip through dutifully then return it to me with a shrug. I mean, he likes Star Wars, but I’m not sure if he’s ever seen the entirety of the original trilogy, and for anyone who hasn’t, the references here will be vanishingly obscure. The jokes are also, in large part, to do with Darth Vader struggling to parent a cute daughter (and son, who occasionally pops up) who grows up to be a rebellious teenager, which really isn’t high on the list of things my kid finds funny yet. I laughed at the contents a few times and definitely admired the art work, but this is definitely a book that will most appeal to the Star Wars fan who happens to be the parent of a daughter, or to a Star Wars fan who is a rebellious daughter. Tho in all likelihood, she’d be the one handing the book to dear old dad as a birthday gift and a reminder that parenting could always be harder!

Overall, cute but, to anyone but Star Wars families (and I know there are a lot of you out there!), inessential.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/17/vaders-little-princess-star-wars-darth-vader-and-kids-by-jeffrey-brown/

Aug 15 2020

The Comanche Empire by Pekka Hämäläinen

Pekka Hämäläinen gets right to the point: “This book is about an American empire that, according to conventional histories, did not exist. It tells the familiar tale of expansion, resistance, conquest, and loss, but with a reversal of the usual historical roles: it is a story in which Indians expand, dictate, and prosper, and European colonists resist, retreat, and struggle to survive.” (p. 1) Over the following 360 pages, Hämäläinen, who is Finnish and now teaches at Oxford after several years in the US, details how the Comanches changed from “a small tribe of hunter-gatherers living in the rugged canyonlands on the far northern frontier of the Spanish kingdom of New Mexico” to a complex polity that held northern New Mexico in thrall, farmed Texas for horses and captives, raided central Mexico to within 150 miles of the capital, displaced the Apaches, shaped relations among their northern neighbors such as the Cheyenne and the Pawnee, and traded on their eastern frontier with the French, Osage, Wichita, Americans, and others. By the early nineteenth century, the Comanche dominated the southern plains in an area stretching east-west roughly from Santa Fe to the Sabine River and north-south from San Antonio to the Arkansas River. Hämäläinen draws not only on written sources from across this realm but also on archeological evidence, with careful attention to environmental history and what its scholars have shown about the interplay among climate, horses and buffalo.

The Comanche Empire

Hämäläinen sums up their rise:

They were newcomers to the region, having fled the political unrest and internal disputes in their old homelands on the central Great Plains, and they were struggling to rebuild their lives in a foreign land whose absorption into the Spanish world seemed imminent. It was here, at the advancing edge of the world’s largest empire, that the Comanches launched an explosive expansion. They purchased and plundered horses from New Mexico, reinvented themselves as mounted fighters, and reenvisioned their place in the world. They forced their way onto the southern plains, shoved aside the Apaches and other residing nations, and over the course of three generations carved out a vast territory that was larger than the entire European-controlled area north of the Río Grande at the time. They became ‘Lords of the South Plains,’ ferocious horse-riding warriors who forestalled Euro-American intrusions into the American Southwest well into the late nineteenth century. (p. 1)

Further:

“For a century, roughly from 1750 to 1850, the Comanches were the dominant people in the Southwest, and they manipulated and exploited the colonial outposts in New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, and northern Mexico to increase their safety, prosperity, and power. They extracted resources and labor from their Euro-American and Indian neighbors through thievery and tribute and incorporated foreign ethnicities into their ranks as adopted kinspeople, slaves, workers, dependents, and vassals. The Comanche empire was powered by violence, but, like most viable empires, it was first and foremost an economic construction. At its core was an extensive commercial network that allowed Comanches to control nearby border markets and long-distance trade, swing surrounding groups into their political orbit, and spread their language and culture across the midcontinent. And as always, long-term foreign political dominance rested on dynamic internal development. To cope with the opportunities and challenges of their rapid expansion, Comanches created a centralized multilevel political system, a flourishing market economy, and a graded social organization that was flexible enough to sustain and survive the burdens of their external ambitions.” (p. 2)

Continue reading

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/15/the-comanche-empire-by-pekka-hamalainen/

Aug 13 2020

You Deserve Each Other by Sarah Hogle

My opinion of this book is pretty much equally divided: it is 50% atrocious and 50% adorable. Essentially, Naomi and Nicholas have been together for almost two years and engaged for almost a year of that. It’s November and their wedding is in January but invitations haven’t been sent yet. Naomi is having a million second thoughts, then realizes that Nicholas feels the same way and that they’re both seemingly pushing each other away in order not to look like the bad guy when the relationship fails. As soon as Naomi realizes this, all bets are off. The two engage in an escalating war of pranks and emotional digs but realize along the way that they actually do care about each other, and manage to repair their relationship and find their HEA.

To begin with what I found atrocious: I’m the kind of person who finds prank shows irritating and doesn’t understand the impulse to laugh at your alleged loved one instead of with, so while there were genuine moments of hilarity to be found in the petty stunts they pulled on one another, I was also quietly aghast that they would expend so much energy this way. While everyone expresses love differently, I suppose, the real sticking point was the complete lack of communication between our two romantic leads. Naomi also had the unfortunate habit of assuming the worst of Nicholas, but that was sort of justified because he’s the kind of childish asshole who thinks it’s totally okay to make important couple decisions on his own or, worse, to defer them to his mother. As if that wasn’t bad enough, there’s a weird undercurrent of justifying emotional/spousal abuse, especially with the whole “you don’t need to work” phrase that Nicholas flings around several times. Naomi says it translates to “I will support you no matter what you choose, whether to work or not” but he never says that, or in any way inquires as to her feelings on the subject. There’s a huge difference between a spouse saying “you don’t need to work” and “you don’t have to work if you don’t want to.”

To the adorable: I loved that they finally figured out a way to open up to each other and really communicate. I loved that they realized that being partners means standing up for and supporting each other, and not being afraid to ask each other for help. While I worried that they’d sunk into this quagmire of miscommunication so early into their relationship, it was also great that they figured it out early and decided to make the conscious choice to repeatedly choose each other from then on. I did think that these fuckers didn’t discuss enough of the important things before getting married tho, and that therapy should definitely have been on the table for both of them. For fuck’s sake, folks, DISCUSS KIDS BEFORE GETTING MARRIED (also finances, but at least they had that sorted.) That said, the scenes with Nightjar made me cackle aloud with glee.

To the unique: I was actually pretty impressed with how this book felt like a psychological thriller in its earlier chapters. Only knowing that this was a romance novel kept me from being convinced that one of them would end up literally murdering the other. I also enjoyed the riff on the War Of The Roses movie from the 80s tho that didn’t help with convincing me this wouldn’t turn out to be a psychological thriller after all.

You Deserve Each Other was a fast read that was as amusing as it was appalling, with several moments of really great writing. I don’t think Naomi and Nicholas had a healthy relationship, but I think they could eventually get there, with communication, consideration for each other’s personhood, and commitment to choosing one another. As an Asian Muslim, tho, I totally rolled my eyes when they said that weddings are supposed to be about the married couple and not their families. While I fully respect the right of couples to elope, and feel that couples absolutely should be in charge of the planning of their own weddings, I do think that wedding ceremonies are meant to celebrate the joining of families as well. This isn’t, of course, possible in every circumstance, but ignoring a chance to expand the community of people who are important to you just seems unnecessarily churlish. Also, the whole “cutting off your family” aspect coupled with the “you don’t need to work” stuff mentioned above ticked another box on my “Is Your Spouse An Abuser?” checklist. If these were real people, I’d absolutely want to check in on them from year to year to make sure they’re still okay.

Also, it would be really nice if Penguin would let Overdrive provide Kindle copies of books instead of forcing me to read this on my phone, grr.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/13/you-deserve-each-other-by-sarah-hogle/

Aug 12 2020

Dark Age (Red Rising Saga #5) by Pierce Brown

With a book titled Dark Age in a futuristic series that consciously bases itself on Roman history, you know the contents are going to be pretty grim. Our hero from the start, Darrow of Lykos, is fighting a losing campaign on Mercury against the treacherous Gold-elevating Society led by the depraved Atalantia au Grimmus. His wife, the demokratically elected Sovereign Virginia au Augustus, is fighting her own losing battle trying to convince the Senate on Luna to send him support. Their son Pax along with Electra, the eldest child of their best friends, have been kidnapped by Ephraim ti Horn in a series of increasingly elaborate double crosses; all three are now being held hostage by the Obsidians on Mars, led by Sefi the Quiet, who is trying to move her people towards a future that eschews savagery for its own sake. Ephraim’s protegees, stoic Obsidian Volga and scrappy Red Lyria, are held prisoner in turn by Victra au Julii, Electra’s badass mom, while Sevro au Barca, Electra’s dad, tears cities apart in search of the Syndicate members who ordered the kidnappings in the first place.

And that’s what you missed on Red Rising!

Ugh, and I guess there’s fucking Lysander.

God, I hate that little twerp with the fire of a thousand suns and I don’t understand why he, of all the villains, gets viewpoint chapters in this book. Our other narrators are Darrow, Virginia, Ephraim and Lyria, and while I know that doesn’t cover the entire scope of what Pierce Brown is trying to show us in this hellscape of unceasing violence, and while I’m not at all opposed to viewing things from a villainous perspective, I don’t understand why Lysander is singled out in such a way as to make us think he’s anything better than the scrapings on the bottom of my shoe. For fuck’s sake, a character’s actual dying declaration to him is that he’s good actually, and no, Pierce, he really isn’t. Lysander is a race supremacist who thinks the other Colors should just happily skip along back to being oppressed by his people. His discomfort with how far his actual people have fallen from the noble, romantic ideals he’s cherished since childhood is easily elided by his blinding desire to get them back “on top”, whence he will be able to “fix” them. He’s a fucking fascist to his core and he is not a good person and I really hate that I’m reconsidering my love affair with Mr Brown’s writing over this.

Because I understand wanting to show how war is hell and how it makes beasts out of even the noblest of us and how doing the right thing sometimes demands immense sacrifices, as Darrow and Virginia especially must endure, but comparing them with that whiny bitch Lysander making bad choices at every turn is a “both sides” false moral equivalency at its most aggravating. Democratic leaders making hard choices in order to ensure that the vast majority of their people can live in peace and freedom makes for compelling reading. Reading about a fascist feeling sad he has to stain his honor in order to achieve maximum fascism is boring and stupid. Honestly, we could have cut out so much of his wittering and I would have been 100% happier, especially since this book is absurdly dense and feels like three books, in large part because there are so many people here. I get that, realistically speaking, Dark Ages involve masses of people at cross-purposes, with chaos being the inevitable result, but there is a limit to the amount of realism I expect from my fictional entertainments. Even non-fiction requires judicious editing in order to present a coherent thesis. With fiction, I expect to not groan with fatigue every time a new antagonist is introduced, especially since I can hardly keep track of all the moving pieces already on the board.

Speaking of, I’m glad that Mr Brown has a lot of faith in his readers’ intelligence in remembering who all these people are and how they relate to the narrative, especially since, in keeping with older European fashion, most people have multiple names by which they’re seemingly addressed at random. But why then so much time spent on Lysander if Mr Brown’s purpose is to show that race supremacy is bad even if fascists are humans with dreams of glory, too? A dream of glory which involves the subjugation of other people is not good actually, and it would take at most two chapters to drive that home to the average reader. Instead we get reams of pandering to hard right-wing policies when far left-wing ones are cleanly eviscerated in one elegant chapter, which once more belies the weird “both sides” nonsense that subtly colors this book. Best case scenario is that Lysander eventually comes to see the error of his ways but I don’t care about a Lysander redemption arc and I’m going to be extremely disappointed if this series turns into the glorification of a former fascist.

Lysander aside, this was actually a decent, if uber violent, installment of the series. I pretty much loved all the scenes that Lyria, Victra, Volga and Sevro (even via hologram) were in, and would say the same about Ephraim except, well, that’s a spoiler and I’m still mad about the plot development. I wish Darrow wouldn’t take himself so seriously all the time, but I can understand why he does, and I’m glad that other characters can provide the levity needed to struggle through an otherwise grimdark world of blood and chaos. Writing-wise, the pacing definitely felt a bit off, particularly in the first 29% or so, with people dying far too unceremoniously. Again I get that it’s grimdark war times but see above re: realism in fictional entertainments. Also, I don’t read books in order to feel numb. The real world provides that aplenty (tho I’m so excited at the news of Sen Kamala Harris being chosen as Vice President Biden’s running mate!)

So, one more book in the series? I’ll definitely read it, but will be approaching with caution. Oh, and big thanks to Alec, who let me inundate him with reaction gifs as I read this behemoth over the weekend.

Permanent link to this article: https://www.thefrumiousconsortium.net/2020/08/12/dark-age-red-rising-saga-5-by-pierce-brown/

Aug 11 2020

Die Schaukel by Annette Kolb

As the story of an artistic family in a materialistic time, Die Schaukel reminded me of The Family Fang, though of course Kolb’s work predates Kevin Wilson’s novel by more than three quarters of a century. The Lautenschlags are a Franco-German family who moved from Paris to Munich not long after the Franco-Prussian War led to the unification of the German Empire. Herr Lautenschlag is a garden designer, while Madame Lautenschlag is a pianist, composer and slightly scatterbrained society hostess. They have four children: Hespera and Gervaise, both of whom are among the prettiest girls in Munich. Kolb writes that people never forgot the first time meeting either of them, that not only did heads turn when they walked down the street, some people returned to the same spot on the street on subsequent days just hoping to see them again. There is a son, Otto, who seems on the verge of passing his university qualification exams on this, his third try. And there is another daughter, incongruously named Mathias.

Die Schaukel

The Lautenschlags appear to live in precarious financial straits, and neither parent is any good at managing money. The slightly Bohemian parents are likely to worry about the costs of daily bread, and then spend a large sum on everyone except Herr Lautenschlag attending the opera one evening on a whim. A little more than halfway through the book, however, the third-person omniscient narrator informs readers that Herr Lautenschlag is much better paid for his efforts than anyone things, he just doesn’t bother to manage his money at all.

For contrast, Kolb introduces the von Zwinger family, neighbors and acquaintances of the Lautenschlags. The von Zwingers are nobility where the Lautenschlags are commoners; Prussians who have moved to Munich versus old Bavarian roots (despite the French diversion that brought Herr and Madame together); Protestants rather than Catholic; decisive rather than impetuous; philistine rather than artistic; and, for most of the characters, boring rather than interesting. The von Zwingers also have the knack of managing money. Their affection for the Lautenschlags is never particularly explained, although since it is a largely autobiographical work, Kolb does not see the need for explanations. It is Herr Professor Doctor von Zwinger who arranges for Madame Lautenschlag’s aging and senile mother to be cared for in France for her final years. On the other hand, the Lautenschlags provide an outlet for the von Zwinger daughters, particularly Candida the youngest. They find relief in the free-flowing atmosphere that is such a contrast to their stultifying home.

Die Schaukel, The Swing is by now a doubly historical novel: written long ago (though not quite yet out of living memory) about a period even further back. I see traces of the Great Depression in the book’s emphasis on money, and particularly the way it speaks of money as a nearly animate spirit in itself. For people who lived through Germany’s hyperinflation in the early 1920s, and who were living through the Depression as Die Schaukel was published in 1934, money must have seemed particularly strange and mercurial, likely to misbehave or vanish entirely, for reasons not at all apparent to average citizens.

Although she is writing about German leadership in the late 1800s, Kolb reveals the views that led her into exile after the Nazi seizure of power in 1933: “Only the Professor [von Zwinger] belonged to the type of German who was happy with authority, who considered Berlin as the seat of statesmanlike wisdom, statesmanlike foresight and statesmanlike timing, and who showed the person in office there a trust that could only be shaken by their fall. And so the upright but clueless man wove with them on the loom of the unending suffering that they were preparing. From his point of view, the little populace, which was living so well, could do no better than to blindly leave things to the wise leadership in Berlin.” (p. 60) Kolb is very much on the side of Germany’s dreamers, its climbers of mountains and players of lawn games.

She writes views about Jewish people that are essentialist enough, if positive, that the editors of the series added a footnote mentioning when and where the book was published: in 1934, in exile. Some of Kolb’s characters attribute all of Germany’s woes to Luther, a view that was probably common enough in Catholic Munich at the time.

Mostly, though, Die Schaukel is a study of a family in a setting that was vanishing around them, as the narrator explicitly notes several times, looking forward to the catastrophe of the Great War and possibly sensing worse to come. Lautenschlags and their peers lament the appearance of borders, the demands of Europe’s increasing industrialization and nationalization — even as Hespera is pleased by her employers’ electric lights, and all of the characters enjoy the speed and convenience of railroad transportation. Though their story is set a generation and more before Die Rumplhanni, Lautenschlags’ world is clearly more modern, even as it is mostly a world of salons, engagements, and small intrigues.

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