Ryan
When I started reading this, I was expecting it to not be all that interesting. “After all,” I told myself, “it seems to mostly be based on historical US intervention in places like Vietnam and Nicaragua. How relevant could that be to today?” Sadly, I was very solely mistaken. Chomsky explores, at great detail, how media in “free” Western countries often toe the line for government when it serves their interests, going to the extent of deceiving people when ‘necessary'. Sadly, most of this still seemed relevant, what with the current “war on terror” that the US is waging against many parts of the world.
The plot: Scott Pilgrim is a 23-year-old guy who plays bass in a band called The Sex Bob-Ombs. He's also between jobs at the moment, but that's cool, because his roommate has lots of cool stuff he lets him borrow, and he's dating a high school girl named Knives Chau. All in all, his life seems like something slackers everywhere would try to emulate. But then he meets a cute delivery girl, and her cadre of evil ex-boyfriends, everything gets turned upside down.
I thought this was just a lovely read. The art is simple, but in a way that makes it universal and accessible, and the characters seem to have a great depth to them, even only several pages after they're first introduced. On top of that, it's funny, it's madly energetic, and at the same time, it's capable of great depth. If you've ever wanted to be in a band, or be a character from Street Fighter, (or, hell, if you've ever fallen madly in love with someone), this may just be the book for you.
The action definitely picks up in part 2 of the Dark Materials, as Lyra and Pan find a boy named Will who comes from another version of Earth where people don't have daemon companions. Together, Will and Lyra learn how to move between different dimensions, and eventually find the Subtle Knife, a tool so finely crafted that it can cut through anything, including the barriers between worlds and even through the substance of God itself. As Lyra's father is attempting to wage war on God (because he finds the concept immoral), this is a very important weapon.[return]It's a very bold story to tell, and definitely not the type of thing you normally see in children's literature. The story moves along at a fast clip, as well, that prevents the story from getting too ‘heady'.
Volume two of the Scott Pilgrim series continues the mixing of indie-hipster chic with video game love that began in the first volume. This volume sees a continuation of the budding romance between American Ninja Delivery Girl Ramona Flowers, and uber-slacker Scott Pilgrim, as Scott continues his quest to defeat Ramona's evil ex-boyfriends so that they can be together.
Second volumes of series are always in an interesting position: the first volume has to set up all of the basic characters and conflicts, and it's only in the second part that characters are allowed to develop on a deeper level. This is something definitely true in this book, as we see more of all of the characters, especially Kim Pine and Knives Chau (who, we are reminded, is 17 years old). Add in some frightfully funny scenes, and one really good recipe for Sheppard's pie, and you have yourself a winner!
Written by Jules Verne in the mid-19th century, this novel was his idea of what the ‘future' would look like. I always find books like this fascinating: they always end up having some things fairly right, and some things that are way off, and the future in question generally tells us more about the culture that created it rather than the actual future. In that sense, it's an amazing book, although Verne definitely improved as an author between this book and his later works.
Saw this book while at the World's Biggest Bookstore and picked it up, having been a fan of both movies. Of the two films, the Burton one is closer to the novel than the Heston one, which I found a little surprising, if I recall how many complaints I heard about the 2001 film being “just another Tim Burton movie”. [return]The plot: a trio of explorers go into space and find a planet with Earthlike living conditions, only this is a planet where apes are civilized, and men are not! [return]Despite the b-movie set up of the book, it's actually a Swiftian sort of satire on theories of animal intelligence and behaviourism, which was something that I didn't see coming, and which was a rather pleasant surprise. Boulle uses apes as a metaphor for different prevalent and problematic attitudes that he saw present in society as he wrote it, and which mainly still exist today. A must read for fans of social science fiction!
This wasn't my first read through The Maxx; I read a lot of the issues when they were individually released in the mid-90s, and I had fond memories of the book from what I could remember.[return]It's a superhero book, but superheroes from a completely novel perspective. Kind of like if Camille Paglia, an Australian aborigine, Carl Jung, and Bill Watterson (creator of Calvin and Hobbes) got together to create a superhero. The story follows Julie Winters, a ‘freelance social worker' who looks after The Maxx, a homeless vagrant who thinks that he's a superhero. At the same time, however, it's also the story of The Maxx, the greatest hero of the Australian dreamland Outback, who must protect the Jungle Queen (who looks like she could be a ‘freelance social worker') from evil.[return]Heavily influenced by feminist philosophy (as is all of Keith's independent work), as well as showing influence of Keith's work with Neil Gaiman's Sandman, this is superheroes that require you to pay close attention to what you're reading.
An enjoyable, but fairly forgettable read. The basic plot of the ten issues in this collection were: Swamp Thing finds a small town somewhere in America where Weird Stuff Is Happening. After an exploration of the Weird Stuff (which could be anything from clockwork people, to autistic magicians, to alien hordes), there's a fight, some stuff gets destroyed, and Swamp Thing ends up [b:on the road 6288 The Road Cormac McCarthy http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/21E8H3D1JSL.SL75.jpg 3355573] again. Later, rinse, repeat. I've been told that Alan Moore did some great stuff with Swamp Thing in the latter part of the 1980s, but Wein's material with the character is very stereotypically 1970s adventure/horror type stuff.
I went with an audiobook for this one. It may have been abridged - there was a storyline involving the Solo children, but that was about it. If it wasn't abridged, that's a bold storytelling choice - leaving out the old, recognizable characters in favour of the ‘next generation' of Jedi. Basically, the Solos and a bunch of other young Jedi go on a raid to attack the Yuhzong Vong on their own turf. Everything seems to go farly well, until they are attacked by dark Jedi and Anakin dies! Right after he became a (somewhat) interesting character, as well. Anakin's death, ironically, becomes thematically similar to Chewbacca's earlier in teh series - it's a reminder to the readers that no characters are ‘safe', and that death can strike at any time. That's a very necessary atmosphere to have in war novels, I think, and it's something that the NJO novels have been kind of lacking up to this point. I must say, though, that I'm not really looking forward to the next few novels being nothing more than another Han pity party (even though I know that might seem somewhat callous to say)
Usually I'm not a big fan of “for Dummies” books. I find them too simplistic, and a little condescending in a backhanded manner. This one was good, though. Full of photos and diagrams to show me (at least partially) what I've been doing wrong out on the court. Haven't had too much of a chance to get out and play any tennis since reading it, but did a few solo practice sessions and found I had improved by leaps and bounds since reading this.
I bought this from a table at an Ill Scarlett show benefiting World Vision. Overall, it was a very interesting look at the history of punk, as well as its place both in the larger culture, as well as in history. While there are some parts of what O'Hara discusses that I disagree with (anarchism, for example), it's an undoubtedly important part of punk history and culture.
The latest installment of The Series Of Unfortunate Events picks up right where the last one left off - with Sunny Beaudelaire in the villianous clutches of Count Olaf and Esme Squalour, and Sunny's siblings, Violet and Klaus, about to be dropped off a cliff. [return][return]In this volume, new characters are met up with, much more is learned about the mysterious VFD, and we get to see the characters of the Beaudelaires explored some more. Oddly enough, I used to enjoy this series because of how repetitive and formulaic it was - and yet, with the last few volumes, it's perfectly eschewed the conventions it set up in the first six parts, and I'm still enjoying it greatly.
Like most anthologies, this one is a bit of a mixed bag. Some of the stories were really good, some were not so good, one was called “night of the tar baby”, and I couldn't even bring myself to read it. A surprisingly high number of the stories seemed to have some connection to food and eating. I suppose that connection makes sense: after all, good horror is about striking at our most primitive sense of reality, right? So many recent stories have already centred around sex, so I suppose that it's only natural that the other basic instinct gets looked at as well.
This wasn't my first time reading Animal Farm, but it was definitely the most rewarding read through it I've ever done. There are two reasons for this: the first is that I was reading it with one of my students, who emigrated from a communist country for political reasons, and secondly it's the first time I've read anything by Orwell since the beginning of the “War On Terror”. Both of these conspired to create a sense of urgency to the reading, and also helped to illustrate exactly how relevant Orwell still is today. While 1984 is entirely tied to totalitarian regimes, Animal Farm shows how they come about - through a combination of willful political ignorance by the masses, a government that wishes to maintain control by using a scapegoat villain who is blamed for all of the country's woes. This is the kind of book that needs to be read by everyone in a democratic government as a warning - unfortunately, it's also too often ignored to our peril.
The second novel of a series can be a tricky thing, especially when the author involved is fairly new to the book industry. Often unsure of later releases, they write the first novel in a series so that it can be enjoyed as a whole, and has a conclusion that is satisfying in its own right. The problem with this, howeve,r can be that when the later volumes in the series do come out, there has to be a re-establishment of the status quo before the author can continue with the series in a satisfying way. This is very much the case with the first half of Crossing The Line, the second novel in Karen Traviss' Wess'Har series.
Luckily, Traviss gets as much of that out of the way as quickly as she can. Shan Frankland, star of the last novel, adjusts to her new life as a warrior living with the c'naatat symbiont, and begins her somewhat inevitable romantic relationship with Aras, the only other c'naatat infectee on the planet that is her new home. As part of this, howwever, we learn more about the wess'har, including insights into their biology, their culture, and how the two intersect. [return]At the same time, however, the governments of Earth cntinue their uneaasy alliance with the isenj, and the two species together try to break the quarantine placed on the planet Bezer'ej, resulting in the unthinkable happening. Well, to be more accurate, several ‘unthinkable' things that all happen in quick succession.[return]That remains the greatest strength of Traviss' writing, I think: she does an excellent job of creating characters that are well-developed, and that it's easy to care about, and she then proceeds to torture them in ways that are both inventive and long-lasting. You go through the wringer with these characters, but you end up feeling stronger for it at the end.[return]One of the other strengths of Traviss' work is in her characterization of her alien species - each of the three nonhuman species in the book are well-developed, with a unique cultural outlook and philosophy, and yet each also has room for variation betwteen thee individual members of the society. NOt many authors take the effort to add that individuality to their aliens, and it's greatly appreciated that Traviss has made an effort to.
This series is really interesting, as it allows writer Simon Furman (who, for the uninitiated, is like the Proust of giant robot comics) to build Transformers up from the ground with relatively little outside influence. This volume features both Megatron and Optimus Prime coming to Earth to lead up their relevant factions after the events of the last TF volume. One of the great things about this comic was in how it treated the relative leaders - there was a great sense of danger and fear created in the characters when they learned that Megatron was coming to Earth, and likewise a sense of calm from Prime's involvement. Furman does a really great job of giving the characters individual personalities as well, which is something that's never really been done well with Transformers before.
I approached this book with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. On one hand, the idea of superheroes undergoing therapy is interesting, and great for comedic potential, but in the wrong hands, it could be a terrible foray into stereotypes and too-broad humour.[return]Thankfully, the author managed to avoid all of that, creating a book that is simultaneously a critique and love letter to comic book heroes, while at the same time lampooning self-help books as well, and providing some contemporary political commentary. Taking the format of the notes of a therapist to post-humans, Faust tells the story of heroes in therapy, dealing with their own convoluted back stories and family histories, while at the same time asking the question of what happens to someone after they've won all of their battles and faced all their demons.[return]The characters are all a lot more fleshed-out than I would have expected for something like this, and the plot fairly engaging as well (although there are a couple of bits where the internal logic of the story is a little held up by the therapy-notes format of the book). Overall, though, a good book if you're a fan of superheroes, and are willing to laugh along with another fan of the genre.
Finally, we arrive at the final Harry Potter book! I prepared for this by re-reading all of the HP books before its release, so I was rather hyped up for it. I would say that it lived up to expectations. All of Rowling's writing tics are present - the plot meanders a little, and there are several chapters' worth of material that probably could have been cut without harming the plot at all. At the same time, though, it's obvious from reading this how much Rowling has progressed as a writer over the series - one of the special treats of the Potter books has been seeing them become more complex and nuanced with each volume. Many of the same themes of love, family, and duty in the face of evil that peppered the entire series are still present, and many of the unanswered questions from previous volumes are addressed ass well. Also appreciated was the fact that Voldemort's final undoing comes from a mother's love of her son, and her desire to keep him safe (although this time it's Narcissa Malfoy's love for her son Draco, rather than Lilly's for Harry, that does the deed). I also came to the realization with this book that Neville Longbottom is my favourite character of the whole series - he started as this nebbish, talentless little boy, and by the end has become a warrior, fighting alone in Hogwarts without the need of any special items or aid from others.
After the high level of excitement in the last Potter novel, this one seemed like a bit of a let-down. I'll admit that the ending is rather emotionally draining, but there isn't a lot of build-up towards that. Instead we get a lot of exposition about Voldemort and his relationship to Harry; it's obvious that this is mostly just set-up material for the last book in the series, although it is definitely necessary expository information. It would have been nice, however, if that information had been spread out a bit more evenly over the series, rather than being placed in the penultimate book through the ultimate plot device, the Pensieve. At the very least, however, it does a very good job of creating anticipation for the last novel in the series.
I first discovered Karen Traviss while reading a Star Wars novel that she'd written, and at the time I remembered thinking that she was far too good of a writer to be stuck writing movie tie-in novels. If I thought that before, it's definitely been reinforced after reading City Of Pearl, the first novel in her “Wess'har” series.
This novel stars Shan Frankland, a police officer in the European Union's environmental hazards division, who is sent along with some scientists and marines to track down a missing group of colonists who may hold the key to humanity's future with them. As soon as the group arrives at their destination, they find themselves in the middle of an intergalactic cold war between no less than three alien species.
There's a lot going on in this novel - it is, at various times, a critique of corporatism and genetic modification, while also being a manifesto on veganism and situational morality. At the same time, as well, it's enjoyable on the level of being a cool-as-hell science fiction adventure story, full of political intrigue and complex ethical quandaries. Traviss also does an excellent job of presenting the three alien species in the novel as all unique, and fully-developed races. We see each of them as having their own culture, philosophy, and political factioning within their culture. It's a lot more thought than what normally goes into alien species within science fiction novels, and it would be an enjoyable read on that level alone, even if it didn't have the complex political and philosophical commentaries built into it as well.
Despite having seen many of the films, this was my first exposure to one of Ian Fleming's Bond novels. The plot, basically, involves Bond having to stop the dastardly Auric Goldfinger from stealing all of the bullion in Fort Knox and using the money to finance anti-American spy interests. [return]The book is an amazing document of its time - in addition to the Red Menace of Communist influence over Western politics, there are also discussions of the inherent genetic cruelty of Korean people, and how lesbianism is an unfortunate but predictable outcome of allowing women to vote. In these regards it's so ludicrous you almost can't get offended (I mean, seriously, how does one come out against SUFFRAGE?!?), but I'm sure some would be prevented from enjoying the book on those grounds. Overall, though, it's a fairly interesting but straightforward spy story. Fleming's Bond is an interest character, because he shows absolutely no hesitation when required to kill, but at the same time, he feels guilty about it afterwards. That's an interesting quirk that you don't see in enough modern action heroes, and it was nice to find it in what was otherwise a constant stream of stiff-upper-lippism.
This was a very interesting book for me to read, both because of my lack of experience with Korean literature in general, as well as my lack of knowledge about this period in Korean history (the time immediately following the Communist revolution in North Korea). It was an extremely interesting novel, because it focuses on a very singular act - murder in a small town - but at the same time, it's completely without a protagonist. I don't mean this just in the “it features an ensemble cast” sort of way, but I literally mean that there is no one character that the novel focuses on as a main character. It's the complete opposite of everything I've ever been told about how a good novel should be written, or structured, and yet it works in terms of both entertainment and artistic expression. An eye-opening experience, to be sure.
This is a real ‘coming-of-age' type novel - the kind of book that could be a wonderful revelation if you read it when you're fifteen, but beyond that, it loses a lot of its emotional punch.[return]In some ways, as well, this novel is driven by a desire to coope with the events of the last book - the eponymous Order has to deal with Voldemort's return, and Harry has to deal with the emotional trauma of having a friend die in his arms, as well as all of the issues normally associated with being 15. I've talked to a lot of people who have sad they didn't like this novel, because in it, they claimed, Harry becomes somewhat insufferable. I think, though, that you can't understand Harry's attitude in the book without keeping cognizant the fact that he is only a teenager, and that he lacks the psychoemotional maturity to deal with a lot of what's happened to him. Additionally, the book also has a nice, strong ‘stick-it-to-the-man' sort of attitude to it, which is a refreshing change from the other books, and which helps to firmly place Harry into the realm of adulthood and adult responsibilities. Arguably the best Potter book in the series.