review: and the mountains echoed

Coming out of the holiday season I quite happily found myself with a pile of books to read through over the coming weeks. This isn't unusual, traditionally books are the easy gift for me because I'm notoriously fussy and one of those dreaded hard-to-buy-for people. In addition to a small pile of gifted books, the brother and I also swapped a number of books and I just may be eyeing up the book I gave to Bunny for my reading pleasure as well.

I've been slowly working my way through the books, snatching a few spare moments here and there to read through a chapter. Contrary to popular assumptions, I don't only read science fiction and fantasy, though it is the majority of my easy reading. I like serious fiction as well, when I have the mental energy to really actively engage with a book instead of simply being entertained. One contemporary author who does serious fiction exceptionally well is Khaled Hosseini. It was Bunny who started me reading his work, but once I'd launched in I was hooked. So when I heard this year that he would be releasing a new book it quickly went to the top of my Christmas list, and lucky me, I have a brother who delivers.

And The Mountains Echoed is one of those breathtaking works of fiction that sweeps you up into the story and pulls you right along with it. I'm a little at a loss as to how to describe this book, a multi-generational tale that shows how just one action can ripple across the lives of everyone involved, even those who are only tangentially related to the story. Starting in a small town in Afghanistan, the plot stretches across to reach Europe, stopping in both France and Greece before taking us across the ocean to the United States.

The plot of the novel is wonderful, the story at turns heartbreaking and exciting, but plot is not what made this a standout to me. Hosseini's writing style is amazingly engaging, with prose bordering on poetry at points. Even better, his understanding of the human condition is profound and he managed to write characters that come to life right on the page. Ambitious, sad, flawed, real characters who you could easily imagine passing on the street, or in your doctor's office or anywhere. Real flaws, flaws like ambitions and promises exceeding their ability to follow through, flaws like parents who try to fill a gaping need within themselves with their children and the messiness that ensues, like letting fear of failure become its own crippling disease. The third person narrative allows us to see as much about the internal motivations as the external actions and how the two can at times contrast so terribly.

This is one of those books that forced me to sit up and critically engage. Where I would read a chapter and then go back and re-read an earlier portion to see how they related to each other. I was tempted to get out my highlighter and mark passages to come back to, I did grab a pen and notebook and took down quotes and made notes. I swear I'm ready for a seminar or a book club meeting on this, though I have neither.

Some excerpts:

"Talking about Afghanistan - and his is astonished at how quickly and imperceptibly this has happened - suddenly feels like discussing a recently watched, emotionally drenching film whose effects are beginning to wane." p 167

"... for the rest of her life it would slam into her at random moments, the guilt, the terrible remorse, catching her off guard, and that she would ache to the bones with it. She would wrestle with this, now and for all days to come. It would be the dripping faucet at the back of her mind." p 217

"What was I supposed to be, growing in your womb - assuming it was even in yoru womb that I was conceived? A seed of hope? A ticket purchased to ferry you from the dark? A patch for that hole you carried in your heart? If so, then I wasn't enough. I wasn't nearly enough." p 221

" 'When they entered the kill zone,' Baba Jan said, one hand absently stroking Adel's hair, 'I opened fire. We hit the lead vehicle, then a few jeeps. I thought they would back out or try to plow through. But the sons of whores stopped, dismounted and engaged us in gunfire. Can you believe it?' " p 271

"He would learn to love him again even if now it was a different, more complicated, messier business." p 276

"I learned that the world didn't see the inside of you, that it didn't care a whit about the hopes and dreams, and sorrows, that lay masked by skin and bones. It was as simple, as absurd and cruel as that." p 329

Even without context, it seems impossible not to recognize the human condition in those quotes. The failings, flaws, fears. Which isn't to say the book doesn't have joyful moments, because it does, but what Hosseini captures so perfectly is that messy and complicated nature of a person wearied by the world.

review: The Summoner/Chronicles of the Necromancer

Many of my best recent reads have come as suggestions from coworkers. (Thank goodness for good coworkers!) My fall into The Name of the Wind followed several months of cajoling by a near neighbour. When he left for greener pastures, I was a little upset to have lost my favourite sci fi/fantasy reading friend. Luckily, one of the guys down the hall made it quickly clear that we were destined to be reading buddies.

After bonding over reading the Night Angel series at the same time, a pile of six books was promptly placed on my desk and it was mandated that I must read these. And well, when someone wants to give me a few weeks of reading material and it's all in my favourite genre, how can I complain? So began my decent into Gail Z Martin's Chronicles of the Necromancer, starting with Book One: The Summoner.

These books have the medieval fantasy world, they have the intrigues of royal courts and politics, they have magic and fantasy and pseudo-vampires and -werewolves. It follows a group of young nobles, centred around Martris "Tris" Drayke, second son of the King of Margolan. His brother, Jared, is power hungry, greedy, arrogant and dangerous, determined to take the world down as he chases his ambitions of power and glory.

The story unfolds quickly after the death of the king, with Tris suddenly on the run in fear of his life, suddenly desperate to claim a throne he never wanted to save his people from his brother's cruelty. He's joined on his journey by an appropriately motley band of characters including the mandatory childhood friends, rough men picked up along the way and the serendipity of immediate and powerful allies joining his fight.

Martin moves the plot along quickly, and it's easy to get swept along with the story. There's plenty of opportunity for good old sword and sorcery action to take place, and many different subplots to focus on. The characters are well written and rounded, and easy enough to follow and (my big thing) believable. Minor characters are given enough flavour to seem realistic, and as the books progress the women are just as much part of the action as the men.

Books one and two tell a pretty distinct story, and it could have easily ended there. Book three and four are another clear pair within the series, and I've only recently cracked book four. The third book is an oddball in the set: the original conflict is resolved, and now suddenly although we know the setting and the characters Martin has to set up all new plots again and it takes time to get moving. It got a little bit bogged down both recapping the old story and setting the stage for the new one and it's fair to say the first half was a slog. By the end, though, I couldn't wait to get into book four.

Once I finished the Chronicles of the Necromancer series I quickly dipped into the pair of books that follow: the Sworn and the Dread, which tell a distinct story about two years down the line. If anything, these two books were better than the first four. So, if you're into action, fantasy and believable characters? This might be your thing.

review: the night angel trilogy

I promised ages ago that I'd share about this book and I've really been procrastinating. Probably because I started reading another series that I'm enjoying, and coworkers are begging me to take their advise on a third series after this ... but man was this a good one.

From some earlier reading, I already knew that I was a fan of Brent Weeks' writing style. And as I was working my way through The Black Prism I was instructed several times that I absolutely had to read the Night Angel trilogy if I enjoyed his writing. So, I scoured the used book stores in my area, to no avail, and then finally gave in and purchased a very large volume containing all three books for the trilogy. Good call, self, good call.

I devoured this. Stayed up till my eyes couldn't focus at 3 in the morning and I had to work the next day kind of devoured. The start took time to get going, which seems to be Weeks style. He sets the stage carefully, and it certainly plays out well later in the book, but beginnings aren't what I would call his strongest point.

There's a lot I'd like to say, but with a trilogy like this? If I say too much I'll easily spoil things. It's a well constructed medieval world, called Midycru that's comfortable to slip into from the get-go. There are multiple forms of magic. Well developed, distinct forms of magic. Which I actually think is quite masterful - it can be hard enough coming up with one cohesive system of magic, but to come up with multiple forms in one world? Colour me impressed.

The characters are strong and complex, with failings that allow you to truly enjoy them. The plot turns come at just the right time, and there were moments where I wanted to scream at what Weeks was doing to these people - he's not afraid to put his characters through the wringer for the sake of realism and story. Even better, it's not just the main characters that are compelling. The secondary and tertiary characters, spiralling out from the centre of the story are well developed enough that the story feels real. Although, Jenine maybe is a little two dimensional ... but she doesn't have too much of a role, and even when she does take up page space it's mostly to prop up to other, more major characters.

Weeks is equally deft with his plots and big reveals. Book three, in particular, has a few big moments that were just heart wrenching to me.

From his blog, it seems like one day we might get to read more of Midycru, and I'd be quite excited if that were the case.

review: the black prism

It's been awhile since I've had some new reads that I've been excited about, but thankfully (for my sanity) I seem to be back in the groove again. I really can't believe that the last book I was excited about was back in July. There had been a few stops and starts since then, and after which I just reverted to re-reading some trusty old favourites until I stumbled upon a copy of Brent Weeks' The Black Prism in the sale bin at Coles.

I'm so so glad I picked this baby up. My review can best be summed up with the fact that I stayed up till 3am last night reading partway through the sequel, and only crawled into bed because my eyes got bleary. This is page-turning fantasy at its finest.

The world Weeks builds is vibrant and well thought out, a big selling point for me in fantasy. He touches on every aspect: history, culture, government, religion, geography and winds it into a cohesive whole. His magic system, which is quite literally colour as magic, is brilliant. With all the thinking my quilting has me doing lately about colour theory this fits perfectly into my current headspace.

The Black Prism is the first in a planned series of four books, and focuses mainly on the brothers Gavin and Dazen Guile, and the aftermath of a world they had thrown into war in their struggle for power. At times I wondered if the book was itself a sequel, as Weeks so often referenced the recent past. The brothers are complex and morally challenging characters, who embody that slippery slope of grey between good an evil. The rest of the main cast of characters is equally compelling, from Kip the bastard child in a backwater village, to Karris the woman both brothers loved at one time, to Commander Ironfist of the Blackguard.

There's so much I'd like to say, but Weeks has so many big reveals throughout the book that I don't want to ruin anything. The best advice I can give you is to buy the sequel at the same time you pick this up. You'll save yourself a trip to the bookstore.

reading recommendations

Can someone please tell me why I've never heard of Brent Weeks before I picked up a book of his from the bargain pile the other month? Because dude is a fantastic fantasy writer, and apparently just what I needed to pull me out of my reading funk. And he's written so many books. There's a back catalogue I can go explore! Wee!

disappointed reading

Do you ever give up on a book part way through?

I'm struggling right now with the current book I'm reading. I've made it to about the halfway point and I just don't care enough to really see how it ends. I'm quite disappointed in the book, actually. It was misleading: the synopsis on the back suggested that the plot revolved around time travel and detective work and in reality it seems to be about trickery and the human desire to believe things that aren't real.

The plot has followed two major arcs so far, both about different characters being tricked into believing that they have traveled through time, with the omniscient narrator revealing the trickery afterwards. And I just don't care. It's not poorly written, it's just I would have never picked up the book if the brief had given me a more accurate description. It's a pet peeve of mine when the synopsis is misleading; I rely on those to help choose books based on my interests, and the actual content of this book is nothing to do with what I was told it would be about.

Part of me wants to keep reading, to see if maybe, just maybe come part three there might be some real time travel and wonder to discover. Plus I paid about ten dollars for the thing and I feel a little obligated to see it through based on that. Neither of which strike me as particularly compelling reasons to keep reading, really. Plus I have more interesting books around just waiting for my attention.

I've been reading this for over two weeks now and can barely bring myself to pick the darn thing up during my lunch hour at work, when I typically do a large chunk of my reading. I kind of want to power through it, because there isn't that much left but honestly the idea is a little dreadful.

How do you decide whether it's time to give up on a book?

review: a wise man's fear

In books there's good and then there's good. After reading The Name of the Wind I was sure Patrick Rothfuss was a good writer, and I was certain I was going to like the sequel. Boy was I wrong. I'd barely finished book two, A Wise Man's Fear before picking up both books again and re-reading bits of them. Rothfuss is that kind of good.

The writing gets markedly stronger. Where The Name of the Wind had funny part, A Wise Man's Fear was laugh out loud funny at points. When The Name of the Wind dropped hints of plotlines to come, A Wise Man's Fear picks those pieces up and weaves them into a beautiful story. Names that are brought up in dirty rhymes, or dropped in other tiny ways come back up again, and somehow become important parts of the story. Throw away characters from book one, who help Kvothe but really don't add to the story come back to create problems, when really they are just trying to help. Elodin meets Auri, in one of the most compelling odd character driven scenes. Thumbs are threatened.

There are parts that I didn't love, sure. The scene in fae (with Felurian) felt as though it lasted for far too long. Reading it did in some ways illustrate how it must feel to step into and out of the fae, and certainly some very important things happened there, and other important things were revealed. It maybe didn't need to span a hundred pages is all I'm saying. Parts that might have been interesting were glossed over, as Kvothe the narrator didn't think they were relevant and argued that they were documented well elsewhere. In some ways it thought like the book took far too long to start, as more action and interest felt like it was packed in the last third of the book than anywhere else.

Questions are both answered and unanswered. I have a nagging, unconfirmed suspicion about Meluan Lackless, owing to a smattering of remarks she makes and some facts from the first book. Who exactly is Denna? Certainly the chase for the Chandrian progresses slightly, though comes nowhere towards being solved.

Then of course there are the present day mysteries. Exactly what and who is Bast? What are his intentions, and how did he come to study under Kvothe. Why is there a bounty on Kvothe's head, and what has he achieved in his life that he is so willing Why does Kvothe not have his old powers of sympathy and naming - is taking his new name and identity truly that powerful (as might be suggested by an offhand remark from Elodin), or is it something more sinister than that. Who are the Amyr? The Chandrian?

I can barely contain myself waiting for the next book.

review: the name of the wind

When people tell me "you have to read this" I can be a terrible hold-out. My preferred readings can be so specific, and sometimes I'm a bit of a snob thinking that my taste in books must be so much better than yours. Patrick Rothfuss' The Name of the Wind is one of those books I'm kicking myself over holding out on for so long. If I'd have been smart I would have just trusted the source, when it was first recommended, instead of waiting for half a dozen random people to tell me I needed to read this. My co-worker and I share pretty similar sci-fi/fantasy pop culture interests and when he says read this or watch this I would do well to heed that, in the future.

The Name of the Wind is just flat out pleasure reading, start to end. The story of a hero, told in his own words, this book is the first in a trilogy (of which the second is sitting on my side table and the third is yet to be released). It's a story within a story, or perhaps a story that jumps from now, as it is being told, to then, when it happened.

Rothfuss plays with storytelling itself and the usual archetypes, making a point of subverting them and part of the charm of the story is pointing out exactly when he does. It's an interesting plot device, used to make the events propelling the story forward seem that much more realistic, though if I poked too hard at that the holes in his narrative device would become apparent.

It's a story about heroes, and mythic worlds and magic. About the difference between true magic and simply advanced knowledge and science. The two types of magic in the book are exquisite, and I adore the contrast between that and the exploration of what magic actually is in the book.

This is one of those books where I just want to get on to the sequel instead of sitting here and analyzing it, actually. It's that good. I want more.

review: hidden empire

It's somewhat surprising that I didn't get excited about Orson Scott Card's writing until I met Bunny. I've devoured most of what I've gotten my hands on of his, but there's still plenty of his back catalogue for me to get into, so when I found Hidden Empire in the bargain books section for just $2 it wasn't even a question about whether I would buy it. Also it helped me put off the need to buy the sequel to this in hardcover, which would probably not be my best $30 ever spent, though I can't wait for the paperback release.

As far as Hidden Empire goes, I'm not totally fan-girl about it. It's engaging, sure, but it's missing some of Card's signature magic and pizzazz. Maybe it's that I never read the first book, so I don't know the backstory well. Maybe it's the more contemporary setting, where I can't bury myself in a fantasy world. That might be the crux of the matter, that Hidden Empire is more political fiction than science fiction.

The characters inhabit a world not all that much different than our own; there's been a civil war in America, but things have come to an end and things are mostly back to normal. Then an epidemic of "monkey flu" sweeps over Africa and we watch the fallout, how the new American government of Averell Torrent handles the situation. It's about politics and machinations, making difficult decisions and how people in power move towards the future.

Character was a weak point in this book. There were plenty of intriguing and interesting people, but while Card spelled out their personalities and motivations for us sometimes it felt as if they existed only to move the story along, as though these same characters would not be coherent in any other situation. Again, maybe they would have made more sense if I'd read Empire.

All in all, I'm glad I didn't buy this book at regular price but it was definitely worth my 200 pennies (plus tax) and I enjoyed reading it.

review: guns, germs and steel

Rarely do I let a good book languish on my shelves for long, waiting to be read. I'm more than a little bit embarrassed to say that with Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs and Steel that's exactly what happened. The first year Bunny and I started dating (a good five years ago) he lent me his copy of Guns, Germs and Steel and said I should read it and that it was one of the best books he'd ever read. I only picked it up a few months ago and got around to reading it, I'm sad to say.

Which is strange, because while we don't share entirely the same taste our interests do intersect. We both adore science fiction, we're both down for a good biography. I'm not so much into his outdoorsy and instructional woodworking books, he's not into my historical and philosophy. Maybe it's that I hadn't quite gotten over the fact that he claimed Absurdistan (by Gary Shteyngart) was the best book he's ever read, and that while it wasn't terrible it certainly didn't live up to "best book ever" in my mind. But I wasn't into the premise of Guns, Germs and Steel either.

There's a reason this book is a New York Times bestseller, and it's one of the most fulfilling pieces of nonfiction that I have read in ages. The style is very academic, restating the same arguments in different contexts and showing how that main premise works time and again in various different contexts. At the same time, the writing is conversational and accessible, and Diamond keeps in mind that this is a general publication and not created for subject experts.

Most of all it's fascinating. What, really, are the factors that helped decide how resources and power is divided in the modern world, and why development happens at different rates in different societies. It doesn't solve all the mysteries (does anything?) and I don't know if the same arguments will continue to affect the division of power in the next ten thousand years of human history (if we have that long) but I feel like I've learned a lot about the structure and history of our world.

I won't spoil anything, really, if I tell you that much of the world's power structure comes down to who had first access to guns, germs and steel. Diamond delves deeper, though, examining the factors that contributed to the development of those technologies and the spread of them across the world.

If you're a non fiction fan, and in the mood for socio-political writings this really should be the next book on your to read list, if you haven't read it already. My only regret? That I didn't read it sooner.

review: the golem and the jinni

It's been awhile since I've updated you on what I'm reading. Partly because there have been a few mneh type books lately, the ones that don't really warrant much discussion in my mind. Books that are fine to read, and if someone handed you one and you had nothing else you would read it, but if you'd paid money for it you wish you could go back to the bookstore and get your fifteen dollars back. How much time should I really spend talking about that?

I've also gotten sucked down the trap of looking at too many of everyone else's crafting blogs and trying to figure out the math in their quilt designs. And reading quilting magazines and saying ooooh I want to make that. And contemplating spending $100 on fabric that I probably won't get around to using for a year, but it's pretty and I know just where I'd use it. Then there's the non fiction I'm reading, and I tend to take my time with that.

There has been some real reading lately, though, and some fiction. As it stands, I'd like my fifteen dollars back. There's nothing wrong, per se, with Helene Wecker's part-historical, part-fantasy work the Golem and the Jinni but there's also no magic (except for the magic she writes about, but I don't know that that counts). I finished the book feeling underwhelmed and a little bit frustrated. Then I went into Indigo and they had a shelf saying "If you liked the Golem and the Jinni you'll also like ... " and listed four books I've also read that are a million times better. This book didn't deserve the extra push in my mind.

What was so annoying was that this book, the ideas here? They had potential. I picked it up because it sounded interesting, I liked the idea of mythical creatures from two different historical contexts meeting each other. I liked the idea of the whole thing taking place in last century New York. There was good stuff in the making here, it just didn't come together.

Wecker simply tried to accomplish too much here. She made this rich, beautiful portrayal of historical New York that was truly well done. It was also, I think, her undoing. So much of the energy went to the research and recreation of her setting that there was no magic left to drive her ambitious plot along. Perhaps the very inhumanity of her main characters made them difficult to relate too, and I can respect that, but her supporting cast? The humans in her story? Too many of them felt like sketches and as if they were there are part of the plot, not there for themselves.

There was also a lot of philosophizing in the fiction, which I normally enjoy. And it was ok, but not spectacular. As a whole I felt like the story was driven to its conclusion because the writer had planned out and determined that this would be how the story went, rather than any internal push within the world.

I feel grumpy writing this though. If you're wondering why, just check out the reviews on Goodreads which are uniformly much more positive than mine. I don't know what they were finding here that I missed, but to me the magic was lacking.

review: river of stars

I've read everything that Guy Gavriel Kay has ever written. I've given my opinions on a couple of his works already. Once I made my way through my first book of his, I got my hands on everything else I possibly could, and I've been utterly impatient about buying new releases in hardcover (I usually try to hold off from buying hardcover, both for price and size). So of course, when I first saw River of Stars in the bookstore, with a 30% off sticker no less, it was evident that yes I was going to have to buy this book.

With all that said, River of Stars had some high expectations to live up to. It didn't disappoint. There's been a definite shift in the writing style from what tends to be seen in his earlier books. The narrative shifts between a third person focus on various main characters and a narration that calls to mind the telling of an oral history around a fireplace, or a historian looking back on times long past. It's pure, masterful storytelling at its finest, really.

The characters are beautifully written and fully realized. Even the supporting characters seem thought out, as if Kay truly knows and understands the people he is writing. The blend of history and fiction is so seamlessly done that it's only at the end, during the acknowledgments (and as I delve into my own research) that I can parse out the fiction and reality.

Mostly, this book makes me want to pull out my copy of his last book, Under Heaven and see if I can immerse myself in a little more of this style of storytelling.

review: neverwhere

You know those books that you want to read and you want to like? Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere has been one of those for me. I first picked this up probably almost a decade ago with every intention of reading it. Honestly. I was going to read this book. Except I wasn't into it, and put it down. Then I watched (and read) Stardust and loved it and simply had to give Neverwhere another try. Except I just couldn't do it. Couldn't get excited.

Finally American Gods did me in. The book was so amazing, and I loved Gaiman's imagination and writing style and it just seemed obvious that if I could just get started I would enjoy Neverwhere. Plus I had the damn book sitting around, it was obvious that I just needed to read the thing. I also have the mini series waiting on the computer to be watched, and am now even more excited about it than I was before. (We went on some series binges that prevented me from watching, and racing is back. Dangerous.)

So I did.

I'm not sure why I had so much trouble with it before. Certainly Gaiman's style isn't as developed as with his later works and maybe the pacing could have used some work ... but the book is beautifully written. The atmosphere is palpable, the use of metaphor is so extensive that it becomes a natural part of the storytelling. It's a bit myth, a bit fantasy, a bit of reliance on fictional archetypes and a whole lot of good.

Really the only issue here is just how long it takes to get going. It's just a touch too much set up, even though it's all important to the story. Once the story gets going, though? Watch out.

review: the night circus

There's very little to say about Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus that can't be summed up in one word. Perfection. Without a doubt, this is one of the best books I have read in ages and I'm a little wistful that my fiction never turns out this beautifully.

Morgenstern has the most luxuriously writing style, seeping her work in atmosphere and location. Where most writers focus on the character, or the plot, this book is driven entirely by the atmosphere of the circus and the depth of her world. With the focus so clearly on the setting and the feel of the story, any concerns I would have raised in other books about character development all fall to the wayside. You can just sink into this book, it feels so real, and it's easy to imagine myself walking around the Night Circus itself after reading.

I want her to write a million more things, because even if I read a new book by her every day of my life it might not ever be enough. She reminds me a little bit of Italo Calvino, particularly Invisible Cities. From me that's a big compliment as that's perhaps my favourite piece of literature (but who can ever choose?)

Pure magic.

review: the dovekeepers

My journeys to the bookstore this year have been filled with picking up all of those haunting "mean to read" books. Every single time I go lately I've been picking up something that I keep wanting to read. Apparently, I know my tastes because I've enjoyed everything so far and this is no exception. The Dovekeepers has haunted me at the bookstore for years now. It hits all sorts to checkboxes that make me want to pick up a book: it's critically acclaimed, about women, historical fiction, discusses religion in a historic context.

I first learned about the mass suicides at Masada in high school, in Latin class. Because clearly I was the geek who learned to read Latin (I also maybe wrote my high school diaries in runes to make them hard to crack, but you know, this isn't all about what a weirdo I am), and when you elect to learn Latin you also get to learn all sorts of ancient history. Maybe that's why I'm a fan of the civilizations exhibits at museums. It was a fascinating story: an entire city that chose to organize a mass "suicide" rather than surrender to the Roman forces.

Alice Hoffman explores this story through the eyes of four women of Masada. I don't even know where to start with the beauty of this book. The history is simply astounding, the characters are strong and weak and complex and interesting all at once. Perhaps most interesting to me is the portrayal of Judaism at the time, how much seems to be relying on myth and angels, how deeply these characters live their religion, how much a part of them their beliefs are - even when they claim not to believe. The repetition of the rule not to harm oneself, that it is harming God's creation - the way that rule is hammered in repeatedly, and how relevant it is to the story being told.

The story unfolds in the most gorgeous way, with the four narrators each taking a turn. As any one voice begins I started with the feeling that I wasn't particularly a fan of the character. Hoffman's brilliance in writing is that over the course of a few short chapters I move from not liking the character to being fascinated by them.

Hands down, I would pick this up again and read it happily. My only regret is that I didn't read it sooner.

review: why the world exists

Despite the hugeness of my book collection and the frequency with which I purchase (two more made their way into my home this weekend, don't judge) it is only very rarely that a hardcover makes its way into my home. This was a book that I lusted over though, and eventually parted ways with some gift card money in order to bring Jim Holt's Why the World Exists home.

As the title suggests the book is an exploration of the why of existence, why there is something rather than nothing, why we specifically exist, how the heck that came to be, and the different ways that exist of explaining existence. I may have mentioned before that my interests in philosophy lie most strongly in that brief space between science and religion (my entire degree was taken to satisfy a deep metaphysical longing ... which sounds incredibly pretentious, but it's true).

With all the arguments put forth in the book - and there are many - this was a slow read. This isn't a book designed to be devoured in a couple of sittings, it's a book designed for slow consumption to make sure you understand the arguments and counterarguments being presented. Holt examines the mystery from existence from all angles which is refreshing, and he's equally willing to knock down a scientific argument as a philosophical or religious which I appreciate.

When reading the philosophy and religion sections it wasn't uncommon for me to feel as if the book was hopelessly derivitive in that Holt didn't put forth any of his own arguments, though near the end he tries his hand at an interesting and original proof. My frustration rather missed the point, though, as the book isn't about putting forth a new argument but rather exploring the possibilities from all angles and trying to come up with something.

As an overview of the question of existence it really it beautifully done. The mathematical and scientific arguments were particularly enlightening for me, and I appreciated having so many arguments in one place. The further I got into the book the more I wanted it to actually provide me an answer though, and on that account things were bound to be deeply unsatisfying. Knowledge about the reason of existence is not easy to come by and this affirms my conviction that belief is perhaps the best we can come up with.

Ultimately this book leaves Kierkegaard's argument about the existence of god ringing in my head. It can never be proven that god exists, because knowledge leaves no room for faith. I haven't figured out exactly what it is I believe about the existence of the world, but it's certainly interesting that this the final thought I can come back with in response to this book.

review: secret daughter

My reading occurs almost exclusively through  physical books. I'm also a book collector, as the haphazard stacks and boxes and cases of books around the house can attest to. Despite that, I try to be smart about the books I buy both for my bank account balance and for the fact that I want my library to be somewhat cultivated. (Maybe there's a trip to unload at a used bookstore in the future?) Because of that, I often pick up a book dozens of times, over months and months at the bookstore before I purchase it. That was the case with Secret Daughter by Shilpi Somaya Gowda.

If I were to describe this book in one word it would be powerful. Plot and character seem to drive the book equally, and it sucked me right in. The book revolves around three main women; Kavita who gives birth to a daughter while living in poverty in India and brings her to an orphanage to save her life, Somer an ambitious doctor in America who adopts a baby girl from an Indian orphanage, and Asha the daughter that binds them together.

Their stories reached into my soul with their realism and humanity. Asha's need to connect to her roots, to connect to her father's family in India and reconcile with her birth parents while chasing her own ambitions would resonate with any young woman, I think. That precipe of moving beyond her family unit and embracing the new role she created for herself within her family was tangible and real. Heartbreak and hope were present in near equal portions in Kavita's story with the crushing reality of poverty played against a parent's desire to do anything to give her child a better life. In the end her hopes are both met and dashed and she must find happiness in her own life.

Somer, though, that was a character that could not have come at a more perfect time to me. A year ago, five years ago, I wouldn't have related too much to her but reading her story brought some small perspective on the changes big and small that have been wraught within myself over the past year. Adoption isn't her first choice as to how she wants to become a mother, and it is only after multiple miscarriages followed by a diagnoses of early menopause and infertility she gives real thought to her husband's suggestion that they adopt from his home country. This character gives weight to some of my own fears, and to that quiet, underlying change that has occurred within me almost unnoticed. Miscarriage doesn't define, but the pain and experience filters through you and shapes my experiences of the world.

Their stories are told in three dimensions, heartache and joy both, and just enough weight given to the space in between. The supporting cast is equally rich, though it would have been easy with these three central characters to have the supporting cast left as nothing but placeholders and archetypes. Asha's most immediate family is given the most depth and richness, with the characters farther towards the outside becoming thinner, a perfect mirror to the intimacy with which we know the people in our lives.

Plots and disparate storylines are woven together seamlessly. Though things are brought together to a comfortable close in the end, just enough ends are left untied. Had things been even a slight bit more resolved it would have felt a little bit too happily ever after, but as is the ending carries just enough tension to feel real to life.

One surprising thing struck me with this book, that usually doesn't carry much weight in my appreciation. A simple gift, given out of a misunderstanding and presented as a source of disappointment and almost resentment between Asha and Somer, comes about quietly near the end to contribute to Asha's grasp of her ambitions. The symbolism of that relationship, that gift is placed so unobtrusively at first and while attention is never directly drawn to the importance of the video camera it is key to so much. I won't say more, but if you read it you're sure to come across the allusion.

What are you reading lately?

review: anathem

I'm one of those people who has no problem going back to an old book that I enjoyed the first time round and re-reading it. In fact I'm a bit of a perennial re-reader which all started with the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which I used to read once a year. I don't do as much re-reading anymore, mostly because there are so many new books I want to pick up and bury my head into, but when I'm between books I have no compunction about picking up an old favourite.

Which was why after finishing Blueprints of the Afterlife I couldn't help but be drawn to Neal Stephenson's Anathem. I've reviewed Stephenson before, and I enjoy his writing. He's one of the few writers who I feel can truly master a complex, intricate storyline with many different plotpoints and ideas all at once.

Anathem is a lot different from Reamde. Told in the first person, it focuses on just one character and everything going on outside his storyline, while important, is peripheral. It's heavy on the science and philosophy, though it's all reimagined into a fictional world placed "upstream", perhaps, from our own. This is about 1000 pages, and at times it's dense going the first go around especially. If you're not into having a bit of a refresher course in philosophy, mathematics and physics interspersed with your fiction this will not be the book for you. If you are? Dive in. I couldn't put it down.

Lately my reading has been taking me down a somewhat philosophical path, just by dashing philosophy into my fiction. It has me ready to pick up some serious philosophical reading next, get back to some of my roots.

review: blueprints of the afterlife

Always, without fail, Bunny gives me a book for Christmas. I like to read and he likes to encourage my reading. He's come up with some real winners in the past; creating my Christopher Moore obsession and tailoring choices to my interest. The real criteria he uses, though, is to get me something I'll like and wouldn't have chosen myself.

Ryan Boudinot's Blueprints of the Afterlife fits that bill entirely. It's part science fiction, part post apocalyptic, part philosophical commentary and a total mindf*ck. The writing style reminds me of Neal Stephenson, particularly his early work. (This definitely isn't as dense as Reamde was!) It's based on life on earth, after what's called the FUS, short for the F*cked Up Sh*t. There are five or so completely distinct character arcs and plotlines that at first seem completely unrelated, to the point that they feel like they could be coming from completely different worlds. Different post apocalyptic nightmares. Except they're all the same. Unless they're not?

Clones, "newman"s, a bionet (which is basically the internet, but in our bodies), quantum computers, religious and metaphysical implications, wars fought by corporations extraterrestrial intelligence, slaves who don't know that they're slaves, the ability to upload, download and erase memories. It's a smorgasbord of sci fi ideas and it's knit together beautifully. Two of the character lines in particular, Abby Fogg and Luke Piper, were beautifully engaging, though I have a feeling that those were simply the plotlines I related to most and that other people might enjoy some of the other lines more.

This is one of those books that you keep thinking about after you've finished, where you go back and re-read chapters partway through just to make sure you understood correctly. I'll be reading this again because I want to understand this book completely, and I don't quite. Which (I think) is somewhat the point.

There's a pretty broad appeal here. I know what would have caught Bunny's attention was the post-apocalyptic leanings, but it would also appeal to sci fi fans, philosophers and just about any lover of a good engaging story. It's heavy stuff and it's worth every second you spend reading it.

book review: sacre bleu

I've only mentioned once or twice (or ... well, a lot) how much I enjoy Christopher Moore's writing. So, when he came up with a book that name checked Vincent van Gogh and suggested he might be a main character or driving force well I simply had to read it. Suffice to say I had my hopes up high for this book.

Maybe too high. Which isn't quite fair to say; I had specific expectations that this book did not quite meet. I wanted more van Gogh. I spent probably most of the first half of the book being a little bit frustrated and feeling like the description had misled me.

About half way through the book I got over it. And once I stopped sulking about the fact that there wasn't enough van Gogh I was absolutely enchanted. All my favourite elements of Moore's writing were here, the humour and the hilarious take on the supernatural. I got involved in the storyline and realized that the characters were just as compelling as Moore's earlier characters. So let's be clear: this is a story about the made up, mythical power of the colour blue. The title maybe should have clued me in, no? It's also a book about art, and inspiration and the force that drives people to create.

As I was reading I felt like Sacre Bleu was perhaps a bit of a divergence from Moore's earlier writing, but that's not exactly true. I simply happened to catch on a particular strain of Moore's writing when I first began reading him, and while that particular little set of books is my favourite, it's not the only aspect of his style. I did feel like there was a little bit of maturation in his style though (although, really, maturity is not a word I'd use to describe his writing) and there was definite growth. There's more creative scope and a crazy massive storyline that just isn't there in the most of his earlier works.

If nothing else it's worth a read just for the afterword.