A poignant if unsympathetic view of World War II's final days in the European theater told through the eyes of a cautious young German man and his less cautious friend, both exerted to join the Waffen-SS in its final, doomed efforts against Russian and American forces, their experiences therein impacting each of their respective fates. Rothmann's writing is by turns terse and impactful with Whiteside's translation establishing a taut narrative rhythm, the seemingly smallest details magnified to searing effect. Not all horror comes at the behest of human mortality as the author is equally interested in the terror of a bomb impacting but failing to kill, debauchery amidst military defeat, alongside the more mundane streams of individual life being diverted into the river rapids of history and the churning effect those events had on a citizenry who had [or had not] believed in vain that they were serving some grander purpose than folly. I found the ending of the novel, as told from the point of view of the main German soldier's son following his father's death in old age, to be particularly sharp, narratively mirroring one of his father's journeys but which becomes a historical knell resounding through generations hence.
“Now and Forever” encapsulates into one volume two highly differing yet fascinating pieces of short fiction from one of literature's high masters, Ray Bradbury. ‘Somewhere a Band is Playing' reminds me, oddly enough, of the Twilight Zone episode ‘Walking Distance'; not necessarily in structure but certainly in tone and in the overlying story about one man's yearning for and discovery of eternal youth in a little Arizona town, one filled with deathless tombstones and other mysteries. Bradbury beautifully shows how one man's soul can be so torn between the impossible, everlasting youth, and the less-than-perfect world he has grown to love his whole life.
‘Leviathan ‘99' is a whole different beast, no pun intended, being a far-future, cosmos-sailing adventure inspired directly by Melville's ‘Moby Dick.' The Whale has been replaced with a giant comet and the infamous Captain Ahab is on a suicidal quest to snuff out that particular cosmic entity which he blames for blinding him and will stop at nothing to achieve his aims. The original tribual-esque Queequeg has been replaced with the telepathic Queel, though his character's placement in the overall story arc remains much the same; the narrating crewman Ishmael remains true to his original name. Melville's original story may have been gigantic as the whale he wrote about, but Bradbury's story is fraction of the length yet manages to retain all of Moby Dick's psychological complexity as Bradbury lets his imagination run wild, having particular fun with Ahab's long-winded, dramatic quasi-Shakespearean speeches. His misguided belief that the comet is doomed to crash into the Earth sends the entire crew into the closest reaches of the massive comet, the Cetus 7 starship doomed by Ahab's insanity.
It's a strong duology of storytelling and one that no fan of great literature or Bradbury himself should miss. Even in his late '80s, Bradbury is proving he still has more talent and imagination in his pinky finger than most contemporary authors have in their entire minds.
This bloated, plodding, overstuffed-yet-thinly characterized Dickensian wannabe lacking any venture or stakes or archetypal theme mounted on a clever yet conclusively gimmicky astrological/lunar cycle structure actually won the Booker Prize in 2013.
Good lord.