Friday, February 25, 2011

Does Not Happen

Ladies and gentlemen; Terry Pratchett!

Hi again.

I was wondering if I could be bothered writing this tonight - it's rather late, an' all - but it seems I am able, though you will have to excuse my poor writing. Spoily spoilers abound, so if you want to be able to read this book with an unspoiled mind, do so before you read the following.

I finished Terry Pratchett's Nation last night. It was an interesting book. Pratchett's normal oevre consists of books set in Discworld, which is a fascinating, tongue in cheek fantasy land (yes, the original covers put me off, too), populated by all kinds of creatures and characters. The Discworld novels are usually fairly light-hearted with a deep moral undercurrent, often incorporating themes like tolerance and racial acceptance.
This book is not set in Discworld. This book is not particuarly funny. It begins with a young boy, in the middle of a manhood initiation rite, being separated from his tribe, his 'Nation', by a tsunami, which kills the whole tribe, except him. Daphne, a young Victorian-ish (my understanding is that the book is set in an alternate reality) girl, is the only survivor of a ship wrecked on his island. The 'Adam & Eve' plotline you are expecting doesn't happen. At all. No more than a few flickerings of romance between the two: I found this more than a little annoying. Particularly because of the flickerings. The characters were very well written, particularly our main boy, Mau, whose heartbreak and personal crisis are completely believable and relatable - Daphne, having fewer reasons for heartbreak, is a lighter character, still well written, but a little less relatable, on account of being, well, less conflicted. I was not comfortable with the direction of this book on the whole: the biggest underlying theme, to my understanding, is the classic 'if God is (or, in this case, 'gods' are) real then why do bad things happen?' Nation handles the quiestion pretty well for its standpoint (which was, naturally, God/gods don't exist, and if they do they don't care), but I am still unhappy with the standpoint, which eventually undermines the actual enjoyability of the plot as a whole. I grew tired of the question and the constant back and forth long before the end, and I'm sure I wasn't the only reader to feel thus. And the epilogue made me so angry. Don't read the epilogue. Terry Pratchett's incredible standard of good writing was completely sunk by the awfulness of the unnecessary, patronising and disappointingly dull epilogue. This was a well written book (discounting said epilogue) and if it had only spent more time building up towards a satisfying ending and had left out the giant agnostic angst a little, I would recommend it.
Instead, I think you should go and read some Discworld stories: I haven't yet read them all (that will take a while!), but I heartily recommend the two Moist von Lipwig books and the novels about the Watch. Very good, very clever and very funny.

Having Fun Isn't Hard When You've Got A Library Card!

Hello evvybody!

Did a library crawl on Wednesday - well, not really a proper one, since I only went to two libraries, but you get the idea :-)
Here are the books I borrowed: let's see how many get finished before I pile on the overdue fines. Just keeping in mind that uni starts back in a few days!

























Nation and Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett
























Friends, Lovers
Chocolate (the second book in the Sunday Philosophy Club series - I didn't like the first one, but I'll give this a chance) and Morality for Beautiful Girls, the third book in No.1 Ladies Detective Agency series. (I read the first two a very, very long time ago.) Both by Alexander McCall Smith


The Corinthian by Georgette Heyer (for those days when a little light Regency romance is needed)


The Linguist and the Emperor by Daniel Meyerson (a book about the Rosetta Stone)

Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta (because I couldn't find any of her other books and I'd love to see if good teen fiction exists anywhere!)

Tuesday, February 15, 2011


Greetings.

Just this morning I finished a book I got on my kindle called Dreaming Anastasia. I got it for free (for some reason, can't remember why. Promotion or something.) I don't read a lot of young adult fiction, for the simple reason that most of it is really, really, really bad. What is it about a young adult audience that attracts the worst writers with the most cliche ideas?
When push comes to shove I don't actually believe in writing for a specific audience that way: in my way of thinking, books are either good art or bad rubbish, with the occasional forgettable mediocrity thrown in for good measure. Winnie the Pooh is worth a read and a re-read, no matter the age of the reader, for the simple reason that it is good. I'm not saying that everyone's taste must be the same, but this is what classics are for! A classic is a book which has been preserved for posterity by a genuinely deserved popularity. Usually.
I remember reading an article in a magazine once by a person who was genuinely disgusted to find adults reading Harry Potter books. 'There are plenty of books written for adults' she asserted, smugly decrying the many people she knew of who had been seen reading a 'children's' series of books. Don't get me wrong, I haven't even READ Harry Potter! It could be Satanic propaganda, for all I know. But the argument of 'not your age group' really doesn't cut the mustard. This is another reason that gratituous sex, gore and obscenity really get my goat, especially in literature: if you want to write a classic (and, really, we should aim for the moon every time, I reckon!) don't fill it so full of filth that parents feel a need to shelter their children from it. Take a look at To Kill A Mockingbird. This truly classic novel deals with issues like racism, rape, prejudice and single parenting, but manages to do so with a full allowance of dignity and a refreshing lack of obscenity.
Sorry, where was I? Got completely caught up in a gigantic rant, there, in case you hadn't noticed. (I kid. You noticed.)
Back to Dreaming Anastasia. I didn't like this book. I didn't hate it either, if that makes things any better - which it doesn't. It was just so cliché! I mean, it was a (cliche!) OK idea: the young girl has mysterious connection to historical figure, only the girl can save said historical figure, mysterious magic and high jinks ensue! Buuut, because... well, just cuz, I guess, the entire plot turns into an awkward mutual crush romance... between an adolescent girl and a ridiculously good-looking, angsty, supernatural dude, who's cursed with immortality. Yep, you heard me. That's not familiar at all! (I haven't read Twilight either, actually, but it's surprising what popcultural osmosis can do to you.) And this ridiculously good-looking, flawless man-babe has the bluest blue eyes you ever did see. No, seriously, the blueness of his eyes is only mentioned about three hundred times.
There was no character development, bargeloads of boring exposition, random useless characters I forgot in between chapters, an unconvincingly 'ambiguous' witch, plotholes galore and an anticlimactic ending.
So... Dreaming Anastasia... not my favourite book.

Although, this ad makes it look pretty cool: