Change I Can Believe In

Since it seemed, in posting these things last year, that I would always wait until I had several of them lined up and then post them all at once, I have decided to do things a little differently this year: I'm going to put up single posts, one per month, that cover that month's entire reading. I am going to continue pretending that people actually read this, even though I know better. Meh. I still like having a public celebration of my reading. Books are good, and should be talked about more on the internet -- and I mean in ways other that picking apart Laurell Hamilton's personal life and starting flame wars over Twilight.

So here's the book list for January.


Oh, I've also settled on a slightly different format for these. I like it better.


1. Naomi Novik: Empire of Ivory 1/2
2. Laurell K. Hamilton: Seduced by Moonlight 1/5
3. Patricia Briggs: Cry Wolf 1/9
4. Merrill Markoe: What the Dogs Have Taught Me 1/13
5. Madeleine L'Engle: A Wrinkle in Time 1/16
6. Trudi Canavan: The Magician's Apprentice 1/31


Empire of Ivory

Pick:
This was the fourth Temeraire book; I thought it would be nice to start the New Year off with dragons. Plus I was hoping for pirates. For my money, you can't go wrong with dragons and pirates in a New Year. I also wanted to finish up a fantasy series, since I'm trying to juggle so many of them simultaneously. Well, this series isn't actually finished, since Novik is still writing these and I still want to read the new ones as they arrive, but at least I'm caught up with what's already available.

Story:
The story was good, though sometimes heartwrenching. It picks up just where the last one left off, with Temeraire coming home to England at last, and carrying several dozen Austrian refugees, fleeing Napoleon's Grand Armee. They make it across the channel despite being harassed by French dragons, and they land at the covert infuriated because nobody came to help -- and not a little worried, as well. And they have cause to be: it turns out that the dragons are sick. All of them. A plague has spread among England's dragons, a respiratory illness that acts much like tuberculosis, and England's skies are pretty much empty. In addition, the situation with Napeoleon is so dire -- he has now conquered every major European power but England, and the Brits don't have enough dragons to keep him from invading by air, as he tried to do in the first book -- that Temeraire is forced to put his plans for dragon emancipation on hold. The government is simply too concerned with finding a cure to worry about equal dragon rights.

It turns out, however, that Temeraire cannot catch the disease; he developed an immunity when he had a minor case that was cured before it could reach the same stage of coughing, exhaustion, and lack of appetite that has grounded all of England's Air Corps. So Temeraire and friends head out to retrace their steps; they remember that he was sick on the voyage to China, but got better just before they rounded Africa -- the Cape of Good Hope or Cape Horn, I never remember which it is. They discover that there is a particularly vile and gruesome looking mushroom that Temeraire ate in a stew, when his new Chinese chef was experimenting with new flavors, that does, indeed, cure the illness, and Temeraire's old troop, including Lily and Maximus, are saved. But when they fly into the interior of the Dark Continent to find more of the mushrooms, they find something unexpected: a kingdom of men and dragons, living together, who are just about to go to war against the European invaders who have colonized their land and kidnapped their people into slavery. A people that not only grow these necessary mushrooms in quantity, but who resent their being stolen -- and who take the British soldiers prisoner, and threaten them with execution.

Thoughts:
It's a great story, with all kinds of action, and it was only strengthened by the inclusion of the theme of basic rights and basic human -- and dragon -- dignity. Most impressive, and enjoyable. I thought it was a little bit too much, in some ways, because it seems like every book features a new culture of dragons on a new continent -- first we had Europe, then Asia, then Asia Minor, now Africa. If the next book goes to North America or Australia, it might require some eye-rolling. In this case, it also meant that I didn't get to see enough of the new culture, since the ongoing story of the Napoleonic Wars took up much of the action, so the African dragons were more of a tease -- but since they are probably out of the story for now, that's fine. The ending was great, but also a serious cliffhanger, so I very much want to read the next one.


Seduced by Moonlight

Pick:
Toni and I had a brief fling with the Amazon Laurell Hamilton discussions; I got an e-mail update on one of the threads that featured my old pal Ahvenge, so I went and looked, and said mean things to her; she returned the favor in her own inimitably stupid way, and then Toni jumped in and got mocked, and so on, so on. So I was thinking about Hamilton, and since I have no more Anita Blake books to read, I went for this one; I've been enjoying Merry Gentry and want to see how the series progresses. Though honestly, since I'm writing this two weeks after I read the book, I can't remember whether the book or the online crap came first; I might have just picked this up on a whim as something different from Napoleonic dragons.

Story:
The story dragged out too much, which has occasionally been a failing of Hamilton's. She has such excellent descriptions, and such cool world-building ideas, that I feel like her plots sometimes get lost in all of the descriptive stuff; it happened a couple of times with the Anita Blake books -- you know, the ones that get accused of being mindless porn by those e-dolts -- and it happened with this one.

This is the story of Merry going back to the Unseelie Court in order to honor Queen Andais before she goes to her ball at the Seelie court; this was the plotline that was left hanging at the end of the second book, when Merry finally let herself be convinced to visit her crazy uncle Taranis. And in this 400 page book, she never makes it to the Seelie court. That's what I mean about it being dragged out. I'm a little tired of the goblins, as well; I feel like the negotiations have just gone on too long. But at least they came to an arrangement, Merry and the goblin king.

On the other hand, the Unseelie intrigue was outstanding: the revelation of the villain, the faction that tried to put a hit on Merry, was a great scene and a cool idea -- I like that the nobles are worried about her becoming Queen and what it might mean for their immortality. The plotline of Merry somehow being the conduit for the goddess Danu, and bringing the magic back to the Sidhe, is extra cool, as well. I like the way Hamilton wrote the sex scenes in these books; they're different from the Blake scenes, more emotional and poetic and thus romantic, and it's nice. I'm enjoying the continuing revelations about the Guards, who they used to be and who they might be again, and I was extremely glad to see that, even though she is still clinging to power, Andais seems genuinely willing to step down if and when Merry is ready to step up.

Thoughts:
The world is growing more interesting, as are the characters; I'm glad the whole private eye aspect seems to be falling by the wayside. I look forward to seeing more plot movement in the next book -- because if they don't get to the Seelie court in that one, I'll be peeved. But if they do, I expect to enjoy the book immensely. Can't wait until Cel gets out of prison. Should be a hoot.


Cry Wolf

Pick:
Toni said I should read it. I tried reading my new Portable Atheist first, and got through a few essays; I enjoyed them and will continue reading them as much as possible in between books -- though I think I should finish the Emerson essays first -- but it's just too much thinkin' for late at night. So, more paranormal stuff. And another new series, sort of -- why the hell not?

Story:
Fantastic idea, the Omega wolf. If there are Alpha wolves, males who dominate and control and protect, and who enrage and irritate all other wolves, then there should also be their opposite: a female wolf, who calms, who eases the irritation and rage of all other wolves. Really just a brilliant thought. Wish I'd had it.

The story was also excellent: this is an example of great plotting as the focus, rather than world-building. It helped that some of the background was already laid out in the Mercy Thompson books, but really, this book focused on a part of that world that we never got very much information about, Bran the Marrok's pack, family, and history. But the nice thing about it was that the story actually had a life of its own, and the background info was woven into the story line.

The story line featured a truly nasty witch, who ruined a wolf's life centuries ago; that wolf has been going more than a little crazy since (He lost his boo; who wouldn't go crazy?) and has come to the Marrok hoping Bran will either help him, or kill him -- and he's leaning toward the latter. The witch comes back into his life, as she has been hunting him all along; she's nuts, but extremely powerful, and she makes everything go higgledy-piggledy. But fortunately, the Marrok's enforcer, his son Charles, is ready for her, sort of. More importantly, he has help: his new sweetie, a rare Omega wolf, who he rescued from an abusive pack and immediately fell in love with -- well, his wolf did; sort of like Anita and Micah in Hamilton's series. And though things almost hit bottom, they turn out all right in the end, with a lot of help from various people.

Thoughts:
Like I said, Anna, the Omega wolf, is an outstanding idea. I also loved the revelations about Bran's past, and Charles and Samuel, as well -- and my favorite revelation of all, the explanation as to why Bran has such a bitch for a wife. I think this series has limitless potential for future stories, since Charles and Bran and Samuel, and now Anna, have responsibilities that could touch on any area of the world, really, and certainly anywhere in the US, and deal with any concern that affects werewolves at all. This should be a good series -- maybe even better than Mercy Thompson. Though at this point, Mercy's a better character than Anna, who didn't get enough story time to really develop as a character. I'm sure that will be rectified in later books. Which I'll be reading.


What the Dogs Have Taught Me

Pick:
Toni recommended this one, too; actually, she read something like a third of it to me while she was reading it and laughing. Since it was a big change from my last, and since I'm always looking for inspiration for essays as well as novels, I went for it.

Story:
The ideas were interesting, but actually, I thought the essays should have been longer. I understand that these came from Merrill Markoe's professional portfolio, as a writer for magazines, but it felt like some of them got cut off before they could really finish, or were too brief in their development. I guess I'm too interested in longer works, and have been spoiled by David Foster Wallace and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Hmmm. Should I go by three names for my essays? I've always liked Theoden John Humphrey -- but it seems so pretentious to me. What, I need my middle name to set me apart from all the other Theoden Humphreys? Don't think so. And if I use my nickname, it starts sounding like a Southern double name -- Dusty John, Dusty Theoden (ick), Dusty Teddy . . . Nah.

Anyway, apart from the too-short format for some of them, the essays were most interesting. I liked her pet ones best; she has a great ability to write in a dog's voice -- which is, of course, what attracted us to her writing in the first place. I liked the topics of some of the non-pet ones, though the seminars she goes to in order to Find her New Career! were more than a little creepy; I can't imagine myself doing that. Overall I think my favorite essays were "Something Very Important," when Puppyboy tries to cheer up Merrill's friend by getting him to play with his deflated soccer ball, and "My Dinner with Fabio," because, hey, it's Fabio. I really enjoyed the way she wrote it as a romance novel, and Fabio himself was hilarious. Will there ever be, could there ever be, another Fabio? I think not, and the world is poorer for the lack of Fabio these days.

Thoughts:
I'd like to read her other novels. I'm not too sure about more essays that are the same length as these, though I would love to read longer ones. She has great ideas for writing, and she's a solid wordsmith, but I don't like the made-for-publication fluff-piece feel of these.


A Wrinkle in Time

Pick:
Found it going through the box of books-to-be-sold in the closet I cleaned out, along with both sequels, A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. I always meant to read them and never did. And this seemed like a nice, light read, good for my brain as I head into the last week of the first semester -- only two more Freshmen classes left! Woot!

Story:
Excellent, of course -- it's an award-winning classic. I like that it defies genre, with a science fiction edge to the plotline, granted by the idea of tesseracts and the kids' physicist father, along with the fantasy elements of the three angels, Whatsit, who, and Which (great names, too), and the coming-of-age/social commentary of the three kids and the worlds they visit. I love L'Engle's idea of evil, as we see on Camazotz: a total lack of free will, absolute conformity. The scene with the kids bouncing balls and skipping rope in unison, and the follow up piece with the aberrant child being tortured as he learns to toe the line, follow the rhythm properly, was wonderfully disturbing. I plan to write about it.

Thoughts:
I liked the characters, I liked the sudden ending, I loved the feel of it and the message. It inspired me, and that's always the best outcome of reading. I'm going to enjoy the next two, as well.


The Magician's Apprentice

Pick:
This one came from Jaime; she got a book delivery (Isn't that a nice phrase?) of several advanced reader copies, including one fantasy book; she said she immediately thought, "Oh, that one's for Dusty." I love it. I'm getting a reputation. She showed it to me and I was excited, because I've had the first novel in Trudi Canavan's trilogy for a while but haven't gotten around to reading it, and the back of this one says it is a standalone novel set in the same world -- excuse me, a "breathtaking" standalone novel set in the same world. Sweet, so now I'll know whether or not I want to try the whole Black Magician trilogy, and get a chance to review a good fantasy book at the same time.

Story:
My excitement about the book didn't last long. I think it took me about fifty pages, out of this nigh-600 page trade paperback, to realize something: this book is boring. Staggeringly boring. Breathtaking? Not unless you count yawns. A fantasy book of this size should take me perhaps a week to read, considering work and such; this one took me two, and would have taken more if I hadn't gritted my teeth and set to it, like Sisyphus with his boulder. As it is I have lost several good hours that could have been spent reading something I would have enjoyed.

My one caveat with this is that it is possible that this standalone novel doesn't really stand alone; the book might have been utterly fascinating for people who have read the Black Magician trilogy. There are certainly links, since the same country, Kyralia, is the primary setting in both books, and the characters in this book decide to found a magician's guild, which is the title and presumably a major part of the first book in the trilogy. So it may be that my enjoyment of The Magician's Apprentice was doomed from the start. But I don't think so. The problems I had with the book went far beyond missed references and vague characterizations -- things that readers of the trilogy would have known coming in to this book -- and into the realm of bad writing.

Let's start with the nitpicking, shall we? I'm not normally the type to obsess over trivialities, but these were unavoidable because my attention was drawn to them. First: names. This wouldn't have been an issue for me at all, since the names of the characters and places are fine, standard fantasy names that don't go too far into Arggnocxthophlackarogathor territory. Except one of the characters drew attention to it: a man named Hanara is told his name should be shortened to Hanar now that he is living in Kyralia, as no Kyralian man would have a name ending in -a. No, the Kyralian men have names ending in -n. Dakon, Jayan, Mikken, Aken, Narvelan, Sabin, Everran, Orran, Berin, Olleran, Werrin, Crannin, Bolvin -- it goes on and on. And that would be fine if it was standard for the people of Kyralia to end male names in -n -- except there are men whose names don't, including the king, Errik, and his head magician, Wayel. The problem with names is worsened by another poor choice that Canavan (Note the -n. Coincidence?) made, a choice many fantasy authors make: she chose to rename some everyday objects, particularly food and drink, and animals. A sheep is not a sheep, it is a reber. A chicken is a rassook. Coffee is raka in one land, and suka in another. There is a glossary at the back to explain these new names, but really, what is the point? This doesn't add to the atmosphere of a created world, because after all, they are speaking English; and while some things have new names, a chair is still a chair and a house is still a house. Worst of all, if she wanted to rename all the animals, she missed one prominent instance: they ride on horses, while they are leading their rebers to market after a dinner of fried rassook and suka. But in the grand scheme of things, this is a minor annoyance. As was the second nit I would pick, which is, sadly, a nit I never thought I would pick: editing. I know the book is an ARC, and so will not be perfectly edited -- but reading this was often like reading one of my high school students' essays. There were words that made utterly no sense where they appeared in the text, but it was fairly clear that they were transcribed from a handwritten manuscript -- the use of "faced" where "faded" would have made sense, for instance. Or this sentence: "Stara searched the rock surface, frowning as she Friend to find what Ichiva was drawing her attention to." Shouldn't that say "tried?" Now, I can usually ignore typos, but these are the kinds of mistakes that interrupt the flow of the book, and force me to think about the words themselves -- and that makes me think the book never even made it to an editor, because anyone with any competence in editing would have caught these mistakes.

And this book could really use an editor. Because beyond the nitpicking, there are real problems here. The book could just as well be named "The Magician's Anticlimax," because everything that happens is built up and then allowed to simply deflate like a leaking bicycle tire. For the first half of the book, everything happens off stage: a messenger comes and tells the magicians that their town has been invaded and sacked; they go to look, and the title character, Tessia, learns that her parents have been killed. She looks at their graves, is sad, and then they leave. Then as they pursue the invaders, coming on town after town that has been sacked just before they get there, two of their number are captured and tortured, and the point of view characters wait while someone else goes to investigate -- and then refuses to tell the gruesome details. The most important secret of magic, the ability to draw strength from others and store it for one's own use (a fairly horrifying vampiric act, and one that is completely glossed over despite the fact that bloodletting is part of the process), is held back at first, until it is taught to the apprentices in a scene lasting about half a page, when they find out it isn't very complicated at all. The majority of the book is a description of the Kyralian magicians chasing after the invading army, but for most of that time, they do nothing but follow and discuss what they will do if and when they ever catch them. They do love their discussions in this book. Of course, since the point of view characters are the apprentices, they don't take part in the discussions. So for the reader, most of the book is about watching groups of men gather to talk about strategy and other topics which you wouldn't care about even if you could hear it.

And speaking of strategy, the author should have learned some. Not that I expect or want every fantasy book to be a military text, but this book is about war, and so should have at least some insight. Despite spending countless hours debating, the only strategy either side uses in this book is, "Let's wait until we have more men than the other guys." The battle plans are simply this: everybody line up and zap them while shielding yourself. The winner of every conflict is the side that has managed to store more magical strength. And despite an apprentice making an important discovery -- non-magical weapons, especially the element of surprise, can be used to great effect against magicians (He sets a storehouse full of "whitewater" on fire, which forces the magicians pursuing him to use up their stored power shielding themselves from the blast -- which I assume makes whitewater something like kerosene? Turpentine? Maybe petroleum? Oh no, the glossary tells me it is "pure spirits made from tugors [a tugor is a "parsnip-like root]." So there you go.), they never pick up on it, and the next fight is still a magical game of Red Rover. Ten guys with bows, hidden in a forest -- or one sneaky guy at night with a knife -- could take out every magician in this book, and yet nobody has ever figured that out; not even those whom the magicians have oppressed and enslaved. Hard to believe. As is the great magical revelation in this book, the title character's discovery of how to heal with magic. I could understand the magicians in this world not knowing complex things like the inner workings of the body, which is part of Tessia's special insight into healing, as she is the daughter and formerly the apprentice of a healer -- and the parts when she uses her specialized knowledge to heal are some of the most interesting in the book -- but the big secret of actually helping the body to heal itself? Put magical power into the body -- which then heals itself. I refuse to believe that generations of magicians have never figured that out until now. Just like I refuse to believe that nobody has come up with a better way to fight than "Line up and shoot."

I have gone on too long, I know, but this much unenjoyable reading deserves some kind of outlet, dangit. I haven't even gotten to the subplot about Stara, the beautiful wife and daughter of the evil Sachakan invaders. Of course, since her story takes up a hundred or so pages and has absolutely, utterly no point at all, perhaps I shouldn't get to it.

Thoughts:
This was not a good book. It was boring, poorly plotted, poorly written, and poorly conceived. I think I have my answer about the author's trilogy set in the same world: no thank you.