The Ladies of Grace Adieu, and Other Stories, by Susanna Clarke; 8/10

(Read by Davina Porter and Simon Prebble)

This is a collection of short stories set in the same alternate history as Susanna Clarke's magnum opus "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell." If you haven't read that, what the hell are you doing? READ IT. It is better than nearly anything else. If you have read that already, I'd say read it a second time. You're going to get even more out of that second reading, especially if you get the audiobook read by Simon Prebble (who briefly returns here, they couldn't very well have the Duke of Wellington for a moment without his perfect voicing). If you have read it twice, go ahead and tackle this selection of short stories. You'll enjoy it and finish up wistfully wondering when she is going to publish another book.

There are eight stories here, of which my favorite is definitely "The Duke of Wellington Misplaces His Horse." One of the best characters from the larger novel makes a brief journey into Wall and the Lands Beyond (the setting of Neil Gaiman's Stardust, previously reviewed). Wonderful story. After three years the others which I remember best are the title story, "Mr Simonelli, or the Fairy Widower" (a fictional diary entry from a man of dubious morality who has some fairy blood in him), and "Tom Brightwind, or How the Fairy Bridge was Built at Thoresby," a marvelous yarn about a Jewish doctor who builds a bridge with the help of a fairy companion.

Davina Porter is alright, but the stories she reads just didn't feel as right to me. Then Simon Prebble came on and I had nary a complaint, he is a total rockstar at reading English literature.

Clarke's postmodernist take on fantasy is here in spades, as is her penchant for irony and respect for the traditions of Dickens and Austen. The stories have less substance than the novel, but that is only to be expected, and they seem to me to contain a bit more whimsy and cleverness, perhaps a pinch of her friend Neil Gaiman's influence. Well worth the read, though it made me all the more impatient for her second novel.

The Curse of Chalion, by Lois McMaster Bujold; 7/10

Unusual for me to read a trilogy so out of order (2-1-3), but I think the only reason I rate this one slightly below the second is that it had less novelty. The quality is retained, and the structure, though different, has points of similarity that became confirmed themes of interest for the author once I read the third book.

Cazaril, the protagonist, is a former lord who has been disgraced by events outside of his control, spited by an enemy, and brought low into slavery before the book begins. In this way it is very similar to its sequel, which features a protagonist brought low from a high position, and seeking redemption, which leads to adventure and struggle. This themes are worked subtly, however, and with skill.

The most imaginative element of the work, to me, remains the religious/mystical constructions and the way the interplay with the magic of the fantasy world. It is extremely original, and each of the three books adds a new and completely different element (in this book it is the "curse," in the second book it is the concept of "daemons,"). All of these aspects together contrive a universe that is complex and bears fruit for thought, particularly against consideration of themes popular to other great writers of speculative fiction like Stephen King or Neil Gaiman, which is to say the contest between free will, fate, and mystical/supernatural/superhuman direction.

She does not have the name recognition of these other writers (nor of the other great fantasy writer who is to follow), but she deserves more attention than she has hitherto received. These books will make you think more than most of the fantasy out there.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, by Ken Kesey; 10/10

(Read by Tom Parker)

This book WINS. What a great freaking novel this is. So much here to like-- it captures the zeitgest of the era that was to come, it has metaphors and themes that serve as an indictment of American society at its time in fascinating and compelling ways, it has brilliant dialogue and wonderfully complex characters, and the writing is, in general fantastic. I never had this book assigned in school, and wound up instead originally ingesting it in the form of the excellent film (which I was too young to understand and have yet to revisit. Need to do that).

The story is told from the point of view of an inmate in an insane asylum in Oregon in the late 1950's. Everyone he interacts with is crazy, but more than this, they hate each other and get into fights and are generally dominated by a repressive set of guards led by the inimitable Nurse Ratchet. This is all until a new inmate, McMurphy, arrives on the scene to shake things up, and gives the other inmates a sense of purpose, unity, and dignity, over the opposition of the villainous nurse.

There is so much going on here thematically. Kesey drew a large amount of inspiration from his "day job" (mostly at night, I gather) working at a Veteran's hospital with patients who had been labelled "insane." Kesey already identified well with social outcasts, having draw inspiration from (and written two unpublished novels partially about) the Beat generation, and having significant early experience with drugs through his volunteering as a subject for the CIA's experiments in the MK ULTRA program. He looked at the men he was assigned to care for not as irretrievably lost "crazies," but rather as social misfits and outcasts. This is the nugget, the idea that nonconformism is worthy of respect and even admiration, that makes One Flew such a prophetic voice for the generation that was rising at the time (it was written in '59, published in '62), and such an indictment of people, institutions, and cultures who attempted to knuckle under eccentric or different individuals into a collective "normal," like the cookie-cutter existence Americans were offered through popular media of the 1950's.

Great movie. Better book.

The book has one very strong argument to recommend it over the movie: the narration and the character of the narrator. Frankly I barely remember the Chief Bromden of the movie outside of two key scenes where he has a major presence. In the novel the Chief's awareness becomes a prism through which every observation and event must be challenged, reconsidered, and in some cases discounted. The many has been labelled "crazy" by society, after all, and not entirely without reason. He is one of the great unreliable narrators, up there with A Clockwork Orange's Alex in that discussion. And how fitting that is with the thematic message of this novel, for in truth, how reliable is your perspective, or mine?

One of the best books I've ever read, and you should totally read it. Tom Parker was stellar and I would recommend the audio book big time. If you can get ahold of it, do. If you already did read it, have a look at this theory I have, which is mine, my theory, below the fold.

SPOILERS follow.

There is one theme, however, that I did a bit of asking about/internet research on and did not really find addressed to my satisfaction. That the asylum can be not only a literal setting but also a stand-in for American culture is obvious. However, it struck me more and more as the story progressed that the asylum, its occupants, and McMurphy in particular could be seen to correspond, though perhaps perversely, to the New Testament. Appears Jesus (McMurphy) to a band of misfits, outcasts, lepers, criminals, prostitutes, etc, who live without dignity under the thumb of the Romans (guards/nurses/society that ruled them "insane") to offer the radical message that they should stick up for each other. They follow him and suddenly find themselves gaining self respect, support, and confidence. To break their new spirit and put down this spiritual rebellion, which threatens their authority, the hospital staff finally condemn McMurphy to lobotomy, essentially death. He puts up no fight, but sacrifices himself essentially on their behalf to serve as an example, though they deny him and deny having supported him during and after the fact.

As I made my way through the book, though I didn't seek the analogy out and am almost completely innocent of seeing Christ analogies in literature, this comparison pressed itself onto my subconscious mind, and finally onto my conscious mind. AFTER I had already begun toying with this notion, I got to the climax of the novel, where McMurphy is condemned to something like death. There is a part where Ratchet sends him in to get the operation and the doctor there first refuses to do this without (my memory slightly fails but I think it was) more proof that McMurphy cannot be salvaged. Nurse Ratchet presents him to his companions, who deny him, and then he precipitates one final innocent that pushes her over the line and seals his fate. In the New Testament there is a similar episode (a bit of historical politics, actually) where Jesus is sent by the Pharisees to the Romans for execution. Pilate initially declines to execute the prisoner, because he believes Jesus has done nothing against the Romans. However, the Pharisees, afraid to kill Jesus themselves and lacking the religious authority, send Jesus back to Pilate again and convince him that Jesus has denied the right of Caesar to rule, which Jesus does not deny, leading to his execution (by means of crucifixion, a Roman method of execution, the Jews of the era preferring stoning to death).

Anyways, this is a bit lengthy of an analysis, and I usually revolt against the imposition of symbols of this kind, but I was already wondering about it before this final episode which seemed like a very close correlation. I don't know, but maybe this is a thing?

Stardust, by Neil Gaiman; 10/10

(Read by the author)

A difficult review me to write, on account of the complicated nature of my feelings about the author. A couple of years ago I got into a bit of a spat with him on the internet. We argued intermittently for a month or so about something that felt like important principle at the time, neither of us presented our best side to the other, and it ended badly. It sounds paltry and unimportant, and I suppose it is. He'd not remember it. But it had a bit of an impression on me, for Gaiman was at the time my favorite writer, and more than that, my favorite famous person, a guy I idolized a bit more than seems healthy in retrospect. Not an obsession, I didn't do much other than read his books, I just liked them a lot, and believed that I liked him a lot.

Having a bad experience with one's hero is probably not an experience many have had, and it tends to leave one feeling extremely unwell. It took me quite some time to stop the occasional revolution of the frustrations and negativities of that episode. But it is two years later and I feel sufficiently over it to finally go back and read him again after such a long time, so perhaps it is also a good time to review the first book of his that I read.

Anyways.

Stardust is a great book. Gaiman has been influenced by fantasy you've never heard of and by fantasy you have, from pre-Homeric myth up to Stephen King, and really every kind of fantastical story, legend, tale, or parable that came in between. His stuff is, in my opinion, definitely of a quality that deserves to be called "literature," if such a distinction deserves to exist at all. The tradition here present is that of faeries and witches that you might find in older English folk tales before they all got turned upside down by Lewis and Tolkein. Like Jonathan Strange, if you've read it first, though somewhat less ambitious.

You know, Faerie. Right?

Tristran Thorne is a young boy who travels to Faerie on the quest of returning with a newly-fallen star in order to win the heart of a girl he believes to be his true love. There are a numerous interested parties, and lots of great original ideas and adventures happen along the way. The best of this book to me was the children of the old, dead Lord of Stormhold. I'd go into greater detail here, but my memory is a little fuzzy as it's been a while since I read the book.

It isn't Gaimain's funniest work (that would be Good Omens). It isn't his most ambitious work (Sandman). It isnt' his most popular work (American Gods). It isn't my favorite of his works (Neverwhere). But it is a great starting place for the author, and he is absolutely an author that anyone and everyone with any interest in literature, fantastical or otherwise, ought to read, and will probably enjoy. He has the world's biggest literary cult following for a reason.

I would strenuously that you read this or any other Neil Gaiman book (excepting Sandman, for obvious reasons, and Good Omens and American Gods because I can't vouch for the readers) on audio book. Neil performs his books perfectly. The only other narrators I have come across in my many years of reading audio books are guys named Jeremy Irons, Eric Idle, and Alan Rickman, whose voices are extremely famous, and even in their cases I'd say he was just as good. He knows his work perfectly and does everything exactly right. It beats the shit out of the voice in your head. Check it out from your library and put it on your iPod. It is how it is meant to be read, even this book which was originally published with stylized illustrations. Even when we were pissed at each other Neil and I agreed that audio books are the bomb.

I have a very happy memory of listening to Neil read this book on audio in Autumn. It was cold outside, and I went out and chopped wood for our fireplace. We got takeout, had a lovely roaring fire, and drank glasses of one of our favorite local beers while listening to Stardust. Books can make for a romantic date too!

This movie was made into a great film, which, while having relatively little overlap with the novel, is itself hilarious, fun, and worth your time. It is weird to think that I was introduced to one of the top writers of our time by a movie, but I guess that's not that unusual after all. Just don't make the mistake of equating the two- they are completely separate and succeed or fail on their own merits, each independent of the other.

"And that's all I have to say about that."

Paladin Of Souls, by Lois McMaster Bujold; 8/10 [H]

(Read by Kate Reading)

I got this book to read out of grouchiness (see my previous grumps about fantasy novels winning Hugo awards, even though they are clearly entitled to, on account of my bias in favor of science fiction novels winning), and because I came across it at the public library. Hey presto, it turns out to be a great book, and the author is mainly a writer of science fiction who has won the award for best novel more times than anyone not named "Robert A. Heinlein" (they are tied).

Paladin of Soul is the second book in a trilogy set in a fantasy world of Ms. Bujold's creation, called Chalion. Chalion has its own religion/deities and its own versions of magic to set it apart from other fantasies, though much will be familiar (middle-ages level of technology, etc). Ista, a minor character of the first novel in the trilogy, has just recovered from a magical curse, and feels crushed by guilt of things she did under its effects. In an attempt to recover from the spiritual blight, she undertakes a pilgrimage, which leads to adventure, romance, really cool magic, and highly original mysticism.

The book is particularly recommended not only on account of its distinctive variations, but also because of Bujold's excellent writing. Disbelieve the cover-- this is not trashy fantasy. There are complex characters and even deeper themes occasionally running through a work whose plot alone would easily have made it fun reading.

Kate Reading is a prolific reader of audiobooks, and though I have not yet had another read by her, I hope very much that I will, as she did a superb job.

On the whole, this is one of the better fantasy novels I've ever read. Subsequent reviews will include both the first and the third entries of the Chalion trilogy, and I don't hit sequels with particular regularity, so that is something of a compliment. Also I had the brief pleasure of meeting Lois McMaster Bujold when I worked at the National Book Festival in the autumn of 2012. She was very nice, and I suggested that if she ever wanted to revisit Chalion that she would have at least one faithful reader excited by the prospect. I don't regularly go around telling decorated sci-fi writers to write more fantasy...