The Library

The Power Makers, by Maury Klein

2012-02-06T15:55:00.002-06:00

In our modern world we get annoyed when we find a dead spot in cell coverage and a call is dropped; merely 80 years ago electricity was only easily available in the larger cities and there maybe every other house was wired for it. Klein ends his history of power with this 1920’s era when electricity had reached its tipping point, but begins in the late eighteenth century and the onset of steam power. Why single out steam from wind, water, and heat? As he states in the introduction, “Without the steam engine there would be no electricity. Together they form the foundation of the modern world.”

I quite enjoyed this book. Klein makes the complicated topic of power generation both accessible and interesting. I found it fun to read about the men whose names are now permanently attached to energy: Ohm, Watt, Hertz, Galvani, Volta, and Faraday among others. Klein’s sly humor sprinkled throughout was a treat as well. “Unfortunately, [Lavoisier’s] work was literally cut short in 1974 when he was guillotined during the horrors of the French Revolution.” The only spots that rang false to me were those where a fictional person named Ned visited the three world’s fairs that served as touchstones for the progress of energy technologies. The descriptions of the expos and the exhibits therein were effective, but the imaginary Ned forced a viewpoint unlike anything else in the book and was a jarring departure from the narrative.

Klein balances the technologies themselves with the businesses that brought them to market throughout the book, giving a holistic view of energy that truly makes for an informative read. For instance, Edison and Westinghouse are the two names most closely associated with modern electricity, but it turns out that Sam Insull may have had the most influence on how our power grid works today. He was the pioneer of electricity distribution, and figured out that by creating a constant load on the generation system allowed it to run at the most efficient and the most cost effective manner. To achieve this he went after the ice-making market. “Refrigeration worked beautifully with lighting; it peaked during the summer as the use of lights reached seasonal lows.” Insull may not have invented any of the technologies that harnessed electricity, but he did more for bringing cheap power to the masses than anyone else.

Fascinating book!

First Sentence:

One evening in September 1876 a nine-year old boy, call him Ned, got the surprise of his young life.

Arms-Commander, by L.E. Modesitt, Jr.

2012-01-29T13:46:00.003-06:00

In Arms-Commander Modesitt revisits Recluce again, this time jumping back to an earlier time in the saga. I believe this is the first Recluce book with a female protagonist, and he makes full use of it spending much of the novel examining traditional male and female roles taken to their extremes. The plot revolves around Saryn, the Arms-Commander of the female-ruled Westwind, trying to find allies and stability in a male-dominated world. “She truly hadn’t understood, not emotionally, the depth of the misogynism embedded in the Lornian culture. Why not? What had changed her understanding? The fanatical male insistence on tradition, to the point of senseless death after senseless death? Or the inability or unwillingness to accept the superiority of a female force? The old Cyadorian dwelling, with its entire structure designed to restrain women?” In most of Modesitt’s books who is “right” and who is “wrong” is very clear; this is no exception, especially as the antagonists are unlikeable, old-school he-man woman haters. I wouldn’t recommend using this as an introduction to the world of Recluce, but for those of us that have visited this universe before it is a welcome and wonderful addition.

First Sentence:

In the late afternoon on the Roof of the World, the guards stood silent on the practice ground, their eyes fixed on the blackness rising just above the western horizon as Istril stepped out of the main door of Tower Black and crossed the causeway.

Empress of Eternity, by L.E. Modesitt, Jr.

2012-01-08T11:57:00.001-06:00

A massive, impervious two thousand mile long canal stretches across an entire continent, its purpose long forgotten. Empress of Eternity tells three separate interleaving stories centering around the mystery of the canal in three radically different societies across time. Each story pits science against politics; each has obvious heroes and villains. As we reach the climax, it appears that one group is on the verge of harnessing the forces behind the canal—and those forces will destroy it in all times across the years.

I really like Modesitt’s writing, this effort was a bit flat. Trying to introduce one new civilization in a book can be difficult; introducing three while trying to give a unique personality to each individual is impossible. Jumping from era to era with each chapter causes characterization to develop slowly, meaning there isn’t a real connection with them for the reader until late in the novel. The jumping also makes the plot somewhat repetitive, as each timeline seemingly has to make the same discoveries in turn. Clearly very ambitious, Modesitt doesn’t quite live up to the promise but still turns in an entertaining story.

First Sentence:

The man in a working singlesuit and a thermal jacket, both of aristocratic silver, stepped out of the door, letting it slide close behind him, a wonder that hw had become used to over the past many months.

The Wizard of Dark Street, by Shawn Thomas Odyssey

2011-12-27T21:03:00.003-06:00

Cute book. A young wizard’s apprentice is a natural magician but would rather follow in her father’s footsteps and become a detective. She gets mixed up with a somewhat silly mystery about missing party gowns and a much more serious one involving attempted murder. Light, funny, and friendly, this serves as a much better introduction to the world of fantasy than Harry Potter.

My mom gave my son an uncorrected proof; he liked it and passed it on to me. Clearly The Wizard of Dark Street is the first book of a series; it reminded me of a cross between Encyclopedia Brown and The Chronicles of Prydain. Being aimed at children, the main cases are wrapped up neatly at the end, but contains obvious villains and dangling plot lines aplenty for future volumes. An upbeat tone and positive messaging (“Neither man nor faerie can live long without hope.”) coupled with comfortable characters and easy friendships, this is a great book for any kid.

First Sentence:

“Magic is a fickle thing,” said twelve-year-old Oona Crate.

Life's Little Annoyances, by Ian Urbina

2011-12-14T21:27:00.000-06:00

From the jerk who steals the parking spot for which you’ve been patiently waiting to the guy reclining his airline seat into your lap, from Starbuck’s insistence on calling a 24oz drink a Venti (which means 20, not 24) to shrink-wrapped CD’s that refuse to open, Urbina presents a collection of funny stories that express the exasperation we all feel at, well, life’s little annoyances. Most tales recount a bit of petty revenge, many of them quite clever. My favorite was the fellow that gets so irritated at the blow-in subscription cards in magazines that he drops them back in the mailbox—blank—so the offending company has to pay the postage. Another good one was the man who booked a room at a hotel hosting a telemarketing convention, and then starting calling every other room at 3am. This is a really quick read, fun but no real substance.

First Sentence (from the Introduction):

Most days the job ended late.

Extraordinary Engines, edited by Nick Gevers

2011-12-13T20:15:00.001-06:00

Steampunk, the culture of modern inventions powered by steam in the 19th century, isn’t my favorite genre; I find it very hit-or-miss. This anthology was similar, a mix of good and not so good. Machine Maid by Margo Lanagan was easily my favorite, both entertaining and creepy. A young naive bride discovers she dislikes sex as much as her husband revels in it; finding that a nubile robotic maid has... other uses pushes her to commit mariticide in a most fitting fashion. Adam Robert’s Petrolpunk was a fascinating look at multiple dimensions, but as it went on got increasingly crazier until it spun entirely off its axis at the conclusion. I did like his term “steamternet” to describe the Victorian network, though. Jeffrey Ford’s The Dream of Reason was another odd one, telling of an experiment that trapped the rays of a star in a young woman’s mind using a fog that slowed light. Like I said, odd!

If you already like steampunk this is can be an interesting read; if you are looking for an introduction to the category, though, try The Difference Engine or The Peshawar Lancers.

First Sentence (from the Introduction):

Steampunk is a particularly engaging, entertaining, as well as thematically resonant, subgenre of science fiction, fantasy, and horror.

The Snow Queen’s Shadow, by Jim C. Hines

2011-12-11T21:18:00.002-06:00

Hines’ final book in the Princess series is a bit like what I imagine Disney might make of Crossed. A demon is freed and begins to infect the world (starting with Snow White) with a curse that causes everyone to see only ugliness and hate. Damaged relationships, petty revenges, and crumbling governments quickly follow, and Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are forced to hunt their closest friend. Unlike a traditional fairy tale everyone doesn’t live happily ever after, but the ending is still satisfying. This book is the series finale as well, and Hines tacks on a coda that harkens back to the first book, wrapping up the novels nicely. Each book builds on the previous one so you’ll want to read them in order, but reading them is recommended!

First Sentence:

The plan had been so simple.

The Secret War Between Downloading and Uploading, by Peter Lunenfeld

2011-12-01T23:09:00.000-06:00

This is a frighteningly bad and terribly inconsistent book. Lunenfeld’s point that the computer is dangerously close to replacing television as society’s idiot box is well taken, but his belief that a solution entails people creating as much content as they consume is ludicrous. “...the goal must be to establish a balance between consumption and production, and using the networked computer as a patio-potato enabler, download-only device, or even download-mainly device is a wasted opportunity of historic proportions.” Either he hasn’t seen what passes for content on YouTube these days or his wish is coming true in a wickedly ironic manner. Later he compares the Great Wall of China and the Greek myths to Wikipedia and Linux because they were all built with a communal effort. I wonder if the prisoners and soldiers that built the Wall often got into arguments over which brick went where?

While one one hand he demands people create and upload content, Lunenfeld is on the other offended at copyright laws and authors rights: “By holding on to Mickey [Mouse] ... [Disney] keeps the rest of us out of the storehouse of mutable materials for the creation of new, noncorporate culture.” He certainly didn’t give his book away for free without license. I imagine that M.I.T. (the book’s copyright holder) would frown on that as much as Disney would at someone posting Mickey porn on the Internet.

The author also bemoans the vanishing art of pen-on-paper illustration, calling it the “font of imagination.” He does go on to express hope that photo-realistic computer graphic special effects can be the new source of creative fantasy for the next generation. Sadly, the cover he chose for this book looks like a bad wipe from a 70’s TV show; a lost opportunity to encourage his dream. (While grumbling about the cover I might as well lodge another complaint about the dress: the book is printed almost entirely in boldface; only the sidebars are in a normal weight which makes them very welcome.)

I believe this statement summarizes everything I disliked about this book: “The computer allows the human creative spirit even more flexibility and greater potential than the printing press because it synthesizes so many other media forms.” On the surface this is a thoughtful sentence that draws an astute comparison. A deeper look causes you to realize the printing press didn’t nurture the human creative spirit at all, though, it simply made sharing and preserving content easier. The quiet pride we feel when viewing Rockwell’s Four Freedoms and the tears we shed hearing Elgar’s Nimrod movement in Enigma Variations, the wonder we find in Verne’s words and the rapture spawned by Astaire’s dance, the ingenuity of those that invented the printing press and computer, the love of our family and our quest for wisdom; these things feed our human spirit, not the machines themselves.

First Sentence:

First, we must define the terms of the struggle.

A Feast for Crows, by George R. R. Martin

2011-11-27T20:33:00.001-06:00

This entry in the A Song of Ice and Fire epic feels somewhat different than its predecessors. Apparently Martin had so much material for this book he split it into two volumes, each focused on a separate set of characters. This makes for a tighter, less sprawling narrative that made this the hardest volume to put down so far. (It also spared me from the monotony of Daenerys’ story, although I suspect that means the next novel won’t be nearly as enjoyable.) As an epilogue of sorts Martin explains this in a humorous fashion: “"Hey, wait a minute!" some of you may be saying about now. "Wait a minute, wait a minute! Where’s Dany and the dragons? Where’s Tyrion? We hardly saw Jon Snow. That can’t be all of it..." Well, no. There’s more to come. Another book as big as this one.”

The battle for Westeros is largely over, but winter is coming and with it the return of ancient magic and ancient enemies. A Feast for Crows goes to great lengths to show the ravages of war on the countryside and how unprepared for the long cold season everyone is, much less continued violence. The reader knows that disaster lurks to both the north and the east, making much of the desolation even more poignant. Arya is quickly developing the most interesting plotline, although her characterization seems to waffle between a young noblewoman and a seasoned commoner. Jaime’s quest for redemption makes him my favorite, however; regicide and incest are crimes for which the populace will never forgive him, but he recognizes this and strives for an inner peace.

While not quite as action packed as earlier entries, this was one of my favorites to date.

First Sentence:

“Dragons,” said Mollander.

A Storm of Swords, by George R. R. Martin

2011-11-06T15:00:00.003-06:00

Once again Martin spins an exciting tale of treachery and war in the Seven Kingdoms. Even knowing his tendency to kill off or maim key players, I was shocked at the betrayals found here. The Red Wedding is foreshadowed just enough to instill a feeling of dread and disbelief, and then still goes over the top when it happens. The last novel saw Tyrion become a fully fleshed-out character; here it is Jaime’s turn to be redeemed. Known as the Kingslayer, Jaime has been depicted until now as an oath-breaker, a man without honor. Martin takes us inside Jaime’s head, though, and shows him as a man who killed his king in order to save the lives of thousands, and returned to save his former jailer because she treated him fairly and honestly. A nice depth added here, to someone previous shown only as a villain.

Many of the other characters could use this same treatment, though. Cersei, Joffrey, Lysa, and Littlefinger are all embarrassingly singly-dimensional, and I cringe every time Daenerys takes center stage. Jon Snow has a somewhat deeper characterization, but his plotline at the Wall is entirely too predictable—very unlike Martin. I’m still enjoying the series, but am starting to wonder through how many books this story is going to drag out.

First Sentence:

The day was grey and bitter cold, and the dogs would not take the scent.

Naked Heat, by Richard Castle

2011-10-29T21:35:00.003-05:00

The second book based on the television series Castle. The first was cheesy but fun; this is more of the same. The plot is nothing special, but the depth this adds to the characters on the show. For instance, it seems Castle has a better-than-average taste in beer; while Fat Tire isn’t my favorite I’m always pleased to see someone that enjoys the finer things in life enjoying a craft beer! Reading this will make you yearn for a real mystery, but if you love Castle, you’ll love this.

First Sentence:

Nikki Heat pondered red lights and why they seemed to last so much longer when there was no traffic.

A Clash of Kings, by George R. R. Martin

2011-10-22T14:03:00.001-05:00

The second book in Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice series delivers a strong chapter in the political turmoil of the Seven Kingdoms. Tyrion’s character is fleshed out quite a bit, almost redeemed entirely in the eyes of the reader as he is shown to be both cunning and compassionate while maintaining the ruthlessness needed to run a country at war. His sister Cersei doesn’t fare as well, becoming even more of a one-dimensional shrew than depicted in the first book if possible. The four would-be kings battling across the continent is a compelling story, but every time the action goes east to follow Daenerys it drags considerably. Her story will obviously cross with the rest in some future book (although at Martin’s pace, it could be many, many novels away!) so there is plenty of time to save this thread.

Overall, though: another 1000 pages, another winner.

First Sentence:

The comet’s tail spread across the dawn, a red slash that bled above the crags of Dragonstone like a wound in the pink and purple sky.

Mission of Honor, by David Weber

2011-10-12T20:59:00.001-05:00

Years ago my stepfather-in-law lent me the first book in the Honor Harrington series and I was hooked. Many volumes later, I still am. Political intrigue abounds, and war breaks out on several fronts. The Solarian League picks a fight with Manticore only to discover they are at a staggering technological disadvantage. Manticore is trying to make peace with Haven to avoid a multi-front war, but is surprised by a sneak attack on their home world. Haven is on the edge of complete collapse, but a faction of politicians is stalling the peace talks trying to extract personal concessions. And a previously secret cabal that has been manipulating all the players into battling each other is finally exposed. A nice twist that builds well on previous novels, Weber is moving into more of a plot-driven phase rather than character-driven. While Honor is undeniably a main participant, instead of revolving around her at a personal level the story expands to a larger geopolitical scale. The cliffhanger at the end is a game-changer, and will certainly lead to exciting future volumes.

First Sentence:

Any dictionary editor stymied for an illustration of the word “paralyzed” would have pounced on him in an instant.

A Game of Thrones, by George R. R. Martin

2011-10-01T13:37:00.002-05:00

I’d heard good things about this series, but nothing that made me think it was anything more than just another multiple volume fantasy epic in the vein of Jordan or Riordan. I don’t subscribe to HBO, but the excitement around their recent adaptation of Martin’s work has been impossible to miss. When a good friend with impeccable taste mentioned she tore through a later 1000+ page entry in the series in a single weekend I knew I had to pick this up. So glad I did!

The intrigue, conspiracies, and familial maneuvering reminded me of The Pillars of the Earth, albeit with dragons and undead monsters here. As with most epics there are several different but loosely connected plot lines, most of foreshadow signs of convergence in later books. The main story is that of a weak king whose death causes a civil war, but the hints of an otherworldly menace and a burgeoning threat from across the sea I found more appealing. The melodrama unfolds from the viewpoint of several of the various characters, with each chapter being told by a different individual. Unfortunately, these characters are generally one dimensional archetypes: noble but dense heroes, venal and calculating villains. While not well-developed, they are compelling, and Martin manages to keep things unpredictable by being unafraid to kill them off.

Enjoyable and entertaining, I look forward to the remaining books in the series.

First Sentence:

“We should start back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them.

Directive 51, by John Barnes

2011-09-22T00:07:00.000-05:00

The most interesting part about this book is that Directive 51 is real. Directive 51 states that in a catastrophic federal emergency the existing government can be suspended and replaced by “a cooperative effort among the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of the Federal Government, coordinated by the President.” Barnes takes this and spins a tale around a deed heinous enough to activate the directive, and then explores the aftermath, including a venal President and a civil war. The end-of-the-world scenario is original if ridiculously far-fetched—a nanotech plague that destroys electrical conductors and rubber, fusion bombs, and moon-based weapons—but the characters are largely cartoonish, falling into broad “good” or “evil” categories. An interesting story but not compelling; Stirling handles this sort of topic much better.

First Sentence:

All the days of the modern world begin at the International Date Line, in the middle of the Pacific.

Imager’s Intrigue, by L.E. Modesitt, Jr.

2011-08-21T13:38:00.002-05:00

I thoroughly enjoy Modesitt’s writing. In Imager’s Intrigue, the conclusion to the Imager Portfolio trilogy, he again delivers an exciting novel. His continuing theme of examining religion, capitalism, and women’s rights are again on display, but this episode is much more plot-driven than the previous two. Politics takes the central stage here, meaning less action and more dialogue, but at the conclusion all the plot threads from the series are neatly wrapped up with the heroes predictably prevailing. A satisfying end, although I wouldn’t mind seeing more books in this universe.

First Sentence:

Unlike most people, I hated actually going to sleep and looked forward to waking up . . . in a way.

The House of the Seven Gables, by Nathaniel Hawthorne

2011-07-27T21:52:00.001-05:00

We had to read The House of the Seven Gables in eighth grade and I remember really enjoying it, but virtually nothing else. When my family and I vacationed in New England this summer I wanted to take along a few books set in the area so I picked this up again. Over twenty five years later, though, I found it plodding and difficult to get through. I wish I could go back and ask my younger self what he liked!

The overall theme is hammered home without much subtlety: the sins of past generations are inherited by successive generations. Colonel Pyncheon arranged for a man to be wrongly accused and hanged in order to usurp his land. A massive house is built on the land, but karma finds the patriarch dead at the housewarming party. Nearly two centuries later, the once proud family has seemingly decayed right along with the mansion, never quite escaping the sins of their ancestor. Hawthorne goes on to suggest that this curse may be tied to the original act of avarice; a Pyncheon seeking excessive wealth or power seems to trigger his downfall.

The heavy-handedness with which this fable unfolds I found unappealing; the morality tale is presented much more effectively in The Scarlet Letter or The Picture of Dorian Gray. As much as I’ve enjoyed rediscovering classic literature, I was disappointed in this.

First Sentence:

Half-way down a by-street of one of our New England towns, stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst.

From Hell With Love, by Simon R. Green

2011-07-10T21:03:00.001-05:00

A talking dragon head and the Spawn of Frankenstein are two of the stranger allies the Drood’s find here, and some good advice is, “if you see any kobolds, leave them alone!” From Hell With Love introduces the Drood’s arch-enemies, the Immortals. As Eddie explains it, “the Man from U.N.C.L.E. had to contend with the agents of THRUSH. James Bond had SPECTRE. So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me, that a family as ancient and powerful as mine might have its very own dark shadow...”

I thought the mystery here was better than in previous volumes of the series, but the shape-shifting subterfuge was a bit overused. The biggest complaint was the ending, which is one of the more blatant cliffhangers I’ve ever seen. “"I’m sorry. There’s no pulse. No heartbeat. He’s not breathing. We’ve lost him." And then—” Considering when I read this the next volume hadn’t hit the shelves yet, this was maddening!

First Sentence:

In the secret agent business, no one is necessarily who or what they say they are.

Worth Dying For, by Lee Child

2011-06-29T23:54:00.002-05:00

Reacher has become one of my favorite characters over the past few years and Worth Dying For doesn’t disappoint. As usual, he doesn’t go looking for trouble, but it certainly finds him. When he runs into a drunk doctor in Nebraska refusing to treat what is almost certainly a case of domestic abuse, Reacher wades with both fists wailing and changes a county for the better, solving a twenty-five year old child abduction case as well. The ending is never in doubt, but the path from A to B is suspenseful and exciting.

A solid story and great characters are the hallmarks of Child’s novels, but I must admit I was a bit frustrated at the cold open. In the previous episode Reacher was caught in an explosion that he seemed unlikely to survive. Here, we find him simple wandering into a motel for a cup of coffee and cheap bed for the night with no explanation of how he escaped—much less avoiding the aftermath undetected. Didn’t hurt the story at all, but Child needs to figure out if these books are going to be isolated tales of cowboy justice or if they are truly a progression through time.

First Sentence:

Eldridge Tyler was driving a long straight two-lane road in Nebraska when his cell phone rang.

Gilligan’s Wake: A Novel, by Tom Carson

2011-06-18T14:50:00.007-05:00

This is an amazing book, a true pop-culture smorgasbord. Seven vignettes make up this novel, one for each castaway from Gilligan’s Island. However, the characters aren’t as we remember or expect. We find Gilligan committed to the Cleaver Ward (across the hall from the Burt Ward) of a psychiatric hospital, insisting that he is Maynard G. Krebs and attended to by Dr. Kildare F. Troop. The Skipper describes his time serving in the U.S. Navy with McHale, JFK, and Nixon. Thurston Howell is a naive millionaire that gets mixed up with Alger Hiss and Communist spies; his wife Lovey a morphine-addicted lesbian paired with Daisy Buchanan. That’s when things start to get weird!

Ginger’s story (fittingly titled Hello Nurse) tells how she got into bondage porn with Bettie Page before getting thrown out of Sinatra’s house after a post-coital insult to Sammy Davis, Jr. The Professor is a narcissistic pedophile that was a part of the Manhattan Project, founded a secret society with Roy Cohn and Henry Kissinger that purposefully instigated schemes such as the Suez Canal crisis and the homeless problem, and briefly turns into Godzilla. Mary-Ann dates Jean-Luc Goddard in Paris and discovers she is not only doomed to be a perpetual virgin, but a fictional character to boot.

Subtle and not-so-subtle nods to the television series abound, such as each tale having a character or artifact named with an anagram of Gilligan, or working the word “castaway” and “minnow” into several passages. A man named John Gilbert Egan also figures into each story; at the close of the novel Mary-Ann’s imaginary roommate explains that Egan is actually the author and causes a breach in the fourth wall explaining to us, the readers, how the individual tales all knit together.

Surreal, clever, and inventive, this book was utterly fantastic.

First Sentence:

Skippertoo and get me home, I mean if you really want to hear about it.

The Local, by Paul Jennings

2011-05-22T21:35:00.000-05:00

My good friends the PubGuys mentioned this book in one of their daily updates and I thought it looked interesting. It certainly was, although it was typically British—dry, dry, dry. Jennings traces the history of the English pub from the 1700’s to today. A heavy emphasis on statistics makes some passages a but difficult to slog through; a typical example reads, “A parliamentary return of 1839 showed that 43 per cent of beerhouses were rated at under £10, including 10.1 per cent under £5, and 23.8 per cent at over £15. By 1853 whereas 21.1 per cent were now rated at under £10, 54.7 per cent were now at or above £15.” As dry as the text was, the pictures and illustrations were fantastic! In fact, I dearly wanted to see more. Floor plans of drinking establishments through the centuries were the most fascinating, showing the gradual change from separate rooms for the bar and taps and dining to the more gradual communal space we recognize now.

I was amazed to find that before the World Wars, the temperance movement and government licensing nearly killed the pub, an establishment I’ve always considered idiosyncratic to the British lifestyle. “Having begun the war as the supreme threat to the nation’s survival, drink ended it as a support to morale whose supplies government was keen to maintain.” That said, the conclusion was somewhat surprising to me: “the pub today has a smaller role [in society] that it ever did.” The acceptance of women into pubs starting with the late nineteenth century has offset the rise of drinking at home, but the scene is fragmenting with the rise of food and music establishments and corporate ownership. Older and rural pubs are closing as well; in 1991 in only 205 pubs in the entire UK were found to have historical importance—a staggering difference when compared to churches and other English institutions.

While the pub may be flagging overseas, I’m very glad to report that I at least am doing what I can to keep my locals, places like The Dig Pub and B. B. Rovers (not your typical pretentious American bars) going strongly!

First Sentence:

What is a pub?

Shadow of the Torturer, by Gene Wolfe

2011-04-30T22:55:00.001-05:00

In a strange contradiction, I both didn’t care for this book and at the same time couldn’t put it down. The book has such abrupt direction changes between sections at times it feels more like a collection of short stories with a common hero than an actual novel. The first person narration is flat and unemotional, but instead of being boring it fits the character as his training to be a torturer is supposed to numb his feelings. The plot staggers between vignettes rather clumsily, but an undertone of commentary on humanity is a constant throughout; being delivered through the words of someone causing intentional pain for a living give the analysis a solid weight. Religion, for instance, is aptly summed up: “the authority that punishes no one while there exists a chance for reformation will punish everyone when there is no possibility anyone will become the better for it.”

While I found the plot pedestrian, the writing itself is magnificent. “The vanishing sun, whose disc was now a quarter concealed behind the impenetrable blackness of the Wall, had dyed the sky with gamboge and cerise, vermillion and lurid violet. These colors, falling upon the throng of monomachists and loungers much as we see the aureate beams of divine favor fall on heirarchs in art, lent them an appearance insubstantial and thaumaturgic, as though they had all been produced a moment before by the flourish of a cloth and would vanish into the air again at a whistle.” This rich verbiage kept me enthralled throughout, even where the actual story flagged. The ending is entirely too brusque; I understand this is the first volume of a tetralogy, but the plot simply stops dead with the narrator literally taking a break from the storytelling. “Here, I pause. If you wish to walk no farther with me, reader, I cannot blame you.” Glad to know I won’t be blamed, as I don’t expect to read the next book.

First Sentence:

It is possible I already had some presentiment of my future.

Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson

2011-04-27T23:31:00.001-05:00

I read Kidnapped when in grade school and didn’t really care for it; I somehow decided that all of Stevenson’s works would be similar and so didn’t pick up Treasure Island until just now. What a mistake! Interesting and suspenseful, Stevenson’s story starts out with the arrival of a mysterious seaman and and doesn’t slow down until it’s finished. The adventure is the prototypical quest: a mysterious treasure map is discovered, and the ensuing hunt leads to mutiny and piracy on the high seas. The narrator is (save for two odd chapters right in the middle of the book) young Jim Hawkins and while his telling of the tale is fairly straightforward, the underlying coming-of-age tale is interesting in its own right. Jim’s father dies in the early chapters, and he has several different potential role models, including Long John Silver. At first the pirate presents himself as an honorable man, but as the story unfolds Jim begins to see Silver for who is really is and lets his morals guide him to the truth.

This is clearly aimed at younger boys—Jim’s mother is the only female character and she is out of the picture after just a few chapters. The writing is straightforward and uncomplicated, but at the same time quite effective and descriptive. Take this description of Billy Bones, the pirate who initially possesses the map: “A tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat, his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails, and the saber cut across one cheek, a dirty livid white.” The imagery is powerful and makes the character easy to visualize, but the simple words are comfortable for readers of nearly any age. The plot isn’t complicated either, but amazingly compelling—I had a difficult time putting it down! A true classic, I thoroughly enjoyed this novel.

First Sentence:

Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17— and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof.

When the Air Hits Your Brain, by Frank Vertosick Jr., MD

2011-04-11T21:53:00.005-05:00

Normally, arrogant surgeons and a cynical medical industry are not high on my list of interesting topics. Dr. Vertosick’s horror stories of his medical residency in this field held my attention, though. Routine 100 hour weeks, grueling schedules, and cruel instructors are the norm; a far cry from spending more time on the golf course than in the office! The subject did make this hard for me to read at times, however. A neurosurgeon saved my wife’s life in 1998, and this memoir brought back more than a few difficult memories.

Overall, my low opinions of a self-centered profession weren’t changed. “As I resuscitated a heart attack victim in the ER hallway one night, another patient came up to me, pointed to my expiring patient, and asked if I had tried intracardiac epinephrine yet. I curtly told him to mind his own business and sent him to his own ER cubicle, then promptly loaded up the intracardiac syringe and followed his advice. The patient lived.” This anecdote was presented as a bit of humor (it was bookended with what laymen can learn from television) but I just see a disturbing lack of humility. A second story, though, proved much, much worse.

The author is asked to watch over a baby girl just coming out of a touchy surgery, being told if she could live through the night she had a chance for recovery. He spends a sleepless night making impossible choices between drugs with terrible side effects, only to fall asleep before 5am. When awoken, he finds the baby gone and the surgeon standing over him.
“Where’s the baby? Did she go back to the OR?”
“No. I shut off her ventilator an hour ago. She’s in the morgue. Actually, her parents wanted her shut off last night before I left, but I forgot.”
Turns out the family already knew their child’s surgery had failed and the kid was going to die. This other doctor, though, ignored their wishes in order to teach a lesson to Vertosick about pressure. Never mind the extra pain and suffering the helpless baby experienced. I can only imagine the hospital charged the unfortunate family for the drugs, bed space, nurses, and anything else they could manage for the extra night. This reinforces virtually every negative opinion about the medical community I have. Meh.

That said, Vertosick seems to understand this negative stereotype and often counters by showing the more human side of medicine. Take the tale of a young woman involved in a serious car wreck and needing immediate neurosurgery; her parents appear in the trauma room. “To me, she was as much a bureaucratic nuisance as she was a patient. To them, she was a first step, a first word, a first bicycle, a first date.” While too many medical professionals seem to focus more on the nuisance than the emotional side, it is nice to see that at least they recognize there are multiple points of view to every situation. The story with the most impact detailed a patient who needed surgery to live, but the operation would require the termination of her pregnancy. The mother-to-be refused to trade her life for her unborn child’s; the narrative ends with the epitaph, “Sarah Clark. Loving Wife. Devoted Mother.” Hard to read that without thinking about how close I came to being a single father.

In When the Air Hits Your Brain, Vertosick demonstrates both the positive and negative aspects of how a neurosurgeon is trained, and humanizes an arrogant profession. While I am clearly not a cheerleader for our health care system, I am thankful each day that Dr. Gormley made it through his neurosurgical residency and was there when my family was in need.

First Sentence:

July 1. Neurosurgery residency.

The Hero of Ages, by Brandon Sanderson

2011-03-24T21:34:00.003-05:00

This novel concluded one of the best fantasy trilogies I’ve read in years. Affectations that seemed so casual in earlier novels were shown not only to have a deeper meaning but be critical to the plot. No character is safe, and right up to the last pages it isn’t clear what sort of victory the protagonists will achieve. After all, how can mere mortals fight an omnipotent being? My one quibble would be with the length of time it took the principals to figure out what the numbers of mist-affected people meant. Our otherwise smart heroes comment on the anomaly more than once, but almost willfully ignore the obvious meaning. A minor issue with an otherwise masterful plot, though. At over 700 pages, I simply couldn’t put this down.

As with previous volumes, the underlying discussions give another deeper level to the book; in this case, an examination of what makes people so willing to accept religion. “Most [religions] taught about a god or gods, yet—again—had little justification for their teachings. And every single one of them was riddled with inconsistencies and logical fallacies.” So why do otherwise intelligent people embrace sophistic orthodoxies? Tradition and societal norms are certainly factors, but Sanderson seems to decide simply that religion helps people through the trying times, that it is a comfort in the face of the unknown. “To believe, it seemed, someone had to want to believe.” Faith is making a choice, not something forced upon someone. Interesting that I get more insight into spirituality from a fantasy novel than any number of more “serious” efforts.

First Sentence:

Fatren squinted up at the red sun, which hid behind its perpetual screen of dark haze.