Category Archives: Books

Books, Personal

Addicted again

Once again, work has been ludicrously busy and when I’ve got back from it I’ve been committed to finishing Raymond E Feist’s “Serpentwar” saga — lots of lovely pulpy fantasy (although strangely disappointed at the end of this one). I do seem to have that addictive personality type that wants to see things through once I’ve got into them. My Dad always used to say that if he liked an author, he’d read everything by them; I find myself doing the same, and shopping on Amazon to find any oustanding books… Its a tricky one. They should have a “buy all by this author” button…

Normal service will soon resume – have a huge backlog of stuff I want to blog about, and I think I’ll explode if I have to keep it in, or relay it via conventional conversation (yes, some of it is probably only interesting to me and a few odd people around the internet. Well, I hope so – I’m playing the numbers, there’s like a billion people out there on the net).

Anyway: watch this space.

Books

Raymond Feist is entertaining

Once again, wading through volumes of fantasy – need to turn my attention elsewhere for a while – but just finished the Riftwar saga, which was pretty durn good. From talking to a fan-friend at work, it sounds like Feist, more than most, has spun this franchise out far and wide to make money, and it seems likely its going to work on me. I’ve just ordered the next six books from Amazon…

Bring on the Serpentwar Saga…. (well, after a short interlude of reading books not written in flowery English, with characters riding on dragons, casting spells and being generally invulnerable/immortal).

Actually; I’m going to read Shalimar the Clown next, and old Salman does like to put in a character that’s a bit like him into his books sometimes (“Fury”, anyone?), so there may be someone godlike in there. At any rate, it will be better than “On Beauty”…

Books

Chimaera

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Those of you who have been paying particularly close attention to the little Amazon plugin on the right hand side of my blog navigation will have noticed the veritable slideshow of books that I’ve been burning my way through recently. This is partly due to having been holed up in bed with a cold, and partly a renewed passion to extend my “research” into literary styles in a bid to improve my own writing capabilities.

Have just finished a fantasy series by Ian Irvine, which I actually had the good fortune to discuss with his editor at Orbit Books in London (an imprint of Time Warner) a few years ago. Whilst I hadn’t even heard of Mr Irvine at that stage, Tim Holman recommended him strongly and passed me the weighty “Geomancer” tome, which I duly proceeded to not read for three years – and just as well, as it is the first volume of a second series of books…

Anyway, I eventually got around it, reading both the “View from the Mirror” and “Well of Echoes” stories (about 5,000 pages of small print fiction!). Having got past the needlessly flowery language (why, oh why, do Fantasy authors feel the need to write in pseudo-Shakespearan language? Verily, it is tedious), I was struck by how deeply imaginative and courageous a piece of work it is. Particularly given that it is part of a genre which thrives on repeating staid formulas with new characters — and with a readership who are generally looking for nothing more than that.

The first story is more conventional, borrowing (I gather) from Feist in talking about different worlds separated by a barrier and a ‘void’, but the second – the “Well of Echoes” series – is truly different (erm, IMHO). Building on the story of the first trilogy, but wholly changing tack and tone, with no single valiant sword-carrying or magic wielding hero (but rather a collection of flawed misfits)… it is brave, and I felt ultimately successful. Frustrating that the last few pages of the books set up yet another series, which even the prodigious Mr Irvine must take a few years to complete.

As an aside, Holman and I had a long chat about the necessity of the highly stylised artwork that adorns the covers of much contemporary fantasy, and Tim (IIRC) was arguing that it wasn’t necessary and made the genre more niche in its appeal than it needed to be. Possibly this was my line of argument – in any case, that was the conclusion we reached… The “Well of Echoes” beautifully published, but highly generic cover art makes for much better book-shelf-eye-candy than the gaudily painted “View from the Mirror” series.

Not sure if I’ll ever end up writing fantasy. The amount of planning that has to go into a 2000 page story arc is extensive, and whilst I’d like to think I’ll be capable of it, I’m not sure I have the patience right now. And I need to develop a less concise writing style – but all interesting food for thought.

Books

Fantasy

Been reading a lot lately; most recently finished Terry Pratchett’s “Thud” and the accompanying “Where’s my Cow?” (another gift from siblings), and this morning polished off the sequel to “Eragon”, which I blogged about a while ago, which is called “Eldest”.

I was jealous that the 15 year-old Chris Paolini had managed to get published when I was failing to even maintain my blog as adequately as I’d like — but that’s completely given way to simply being impressed. “Eldest” suffers from many of the things contemporary fantasy does – slightly derivative, pseudo-literary writing style that comes across as needlessly complex at times, and a moderately predictable plot.

That said, Paolini exceeds far more experienced writers with a maturity of style that really doesn’t give away the fact that he’s only just 21, with more believable dialogue and characters, with interesting relationship development and plot twists (even if they aren’t completely surprising) – and is, in short, inspiring. Its difficult not to judge a book by what you know of the author – indeed, what I know of Zadie Smith led me to have nothing but contempt for her Booker nominated “On Beauty” – so I don’t know to what extent my judgment is coloured here, but its probably enough to say that I enjoyed it.

Bring on book three!

Books, Media & Marketing, Personal

Blogorama

Cripes, been a long time since I’ve blogged. Work, as ever, takes responsibility for my crapness (as well as my ongoing addiction to DotA: oh, ok, so its my own fault).

It has been busy: sorting out plumbing nightmare, organising birthday celebs (for Nov!) preparing for parents abortive trip to London (now postponed…), failing to get my shinsplints pounded with ultrasonic waves — despite some efforts. And doing some reading – have finished Zadie Smith’s newest book now – which I loathed and was compelled by simultaneously. A more complete post on that later on…

Also finished Ian Irvine’s “View from the Mirror” series… which, while being really really badly written, was a great story. Looking forward to starting the Geomancer series next…

Books, Media & Marketing

Number 9 Dream

Still with the slgihtly trivial (and Far-Eastern – a theme of this December, it would seem) is a Christmas present from my siblings: David Mitchell’s “Number 9 Dream.” Although famous for his book “Ghostwritten,” I’d never heard of Mr Mitchell, and so the only expectation I had of it was my brother’s inscription “Combining two things you love – Japanese fiction and science fiction.” And this despite the fact I’ve only read a couple of Japanese novels ever (Ishiguro’s “When we were orphans” – genius – and Nobel-prize winner Kenzaburo Oe’s “Rouse up, O Young Men of a New Age“).

Anyway, this book tells the story of a slightly pimply, slightly post-teenage boy who has travelled to Tokyo to track down his father; his father who abandoned the boy’s mother, his mistress, many years ago to her alcoholism, and she, in turn, abandoned her children. Eeji Miyake travels through any number of mediocre jobs and unlikely situations in Tokyo as part of the search, aided and abetted by Buntaro, his landlord, Buntaro’s mother, Mrs Susaki, the girl with the perfect neck, the enigmatic Daimon and the music of John Lennon.

It’s really a fantastic book. The opening plot device – each of the initial scenes are (rather obviously) “dreams” – is a little annoying and comes off as slightly pretentious, but once the book settles into its main story of gansters, trials and tribulations and pizza, the book really comes into its own.

The final chapter, I warn you, is one of the most annoying things ever written. Still, I’d recommend the book to anyone – there is very little science fiction outside the dream sequences; the book is set in the very near future, so this will hopefully allay the fears of any who think of Sci-Fi as anaethma. The only thing you might need is a slightly strong constitution to withstand some of the Pizzas ordered in the book – particularly the Kamikaze. As a pizza lover myself, this is the only book in which the descriptions of pizza have failed to make me hungry…

Books, Media & Marketing

Timely Rain…

There’s been a lot going on, and I want to blog an amount of it, so I’m going to start with something relatively trivial and move in a haphazard manner to the more serious, substantial and significant.

First, then, Outlaws of the Marsh: an absolute rollercoaster of a book for all 2000+ of its pages. Lent to me by a colleague at work (as an attempt to teach me something, I think, rather than lending me a book he particularly thought I’d like…), I started reading this beast of a book back in September, and it took me three months to get through volume 1 (of four). When I managed to get through that at the start of December, I burned through the rest…

The story: a number of minor officials and wandering nobles find themselves on the far sides of the law during the course of the Song dynasty in China, and consequently take refuge in the marshes and hillside forts of the bandits. Convinced, for the most part justifiably so, that their exile is the work of corrupt officials and that they are on the side of the just, they begin to consolidate their forces in Liangshan Marsh under the leadership of a few particularly prominent leaders – the 36 stars of heavenly spirits and 72 stars of earthly fiends incarnated. This means, of course, that during the course of the book, you have to chart the progress of 108 heroes: tough work, and requiring occasional reference to sites like this if you really want to know what’s going on. Favourite characters included “Nine Dragons Shi Jin,” “Song Jiang the Timely Rain,” “Sagacious Lu the Tattoed Monk,” and Wu Song, whose honorific slips my mind at the moment…

It’s a bizarre book; the social and ethical mores of Song-Dynasty China are slightly… odd. While always on the side of honour and justice, Song Jiang and his troops feel no hesitation in ensnaring other “gallants” by framing them for crimes and forcing them to join them in Liangshan Marsh, women are treated as property throughout the book, and at one point Wu Song, dealing with the tragedy that is a bowl of plain rice, decides to make use of the “plentiful meat” he has available by roasting some meat from one of the men he’s just killed – not to worry, though, the man was a corrupt official…

In any case, despite its oddity, this is a deeply enjoyable book, filled with fantastic battle descriptions, lively characters and silly anecdotes. I’d recommend it to anyone…

Books, Film, Media & Marketing, Music, Personal, Work

Summer heat

It’s been damn hot the last few days. It might seems pitiful that someone who gew up within spitting distance of the equator swelters and whinges about a mild hot spell in London, and in truth, I’m not complaining – the hot weather was great over the weekend. Lazing around in the sunshine in Regent’s Park, reading through my thesis (grrr – if I ever see a professional philosopher again, I don’t know what I’ll do!) was really quite wonderful.

I’m not looking forward to having to spend most of the day cooped up in a hot office building though – that’s less than 100% Colombian fun. Don’t get me wrong – I love my job – but I think they should call siestas for the summer months.

But, coming to the point of this post (insofar as it has one): all is well with me; I’ve watched a lot of movies of late (The Punisher, Brazil, Brain Dead, 13 going on 30, High Fidelity and Grosse Point Blank (again!) and more), read a little (finished Timoleon Vieta come Home – brilliant – and about to start Fortress of Solitute, once I get this thesis dealt with), and been working a lot. New client started at work last week – Cisco Systems – which is great, but obviously its been a bit busy at work dealing with the additional load.

Not much else is on. Results of the MRI come in tomorrow (woo), I’ve taken to saying “woo” a lot (woo!), and think people should stop singing “Armand David” to the tune of “Craig David” when I call them. All else is good in Armo’s world.

Off to Cambridge next weekend if I get enough work done this week. Wish me luck.

[Listening to: Am I the Only One? – Barenaked Ladies – Maybe You Should Drive (04:50)]
Books, Film, Media & Marketing, Music, Personal

So much to blog, so little time

Ok, so there’s 8,000 inane websites like this one popping up every day, but that’s not going to stop me from annoying my friends with whatever trivia, observations, or self-referential prose with limited aim that I feel like. So Nyah.

Quick three or four part blog.

Good books: Anthropology, by Dan Rhodes – a 100 stories about girlfriends, at a paragraph each, provided me with a couple of bus journeys worth of absolute delight. Brilliant and satirical, terrible and emotional, they are the story any man can empathise with. It was like a punch to my emotional solarplexus; utter genius.

Also: In the City by the Sea, by Kamila Shamsie is utter brilliance; despite being a woman and an adult, Ms Shamsie brilliantly steps into the mind of an 11-year-old boy in a slightly fictionalised version of Pakistan. Having recently read a review by Kamila of another author’s book where she said literally nothing about the content of the book, I feel obliged to do exactly the opposite here – this is the story of a boy who’s uncle, a leader in the opposition, is placed under arrest by the despot General calling the shots. It tells his reaction, his decision to “depose the President”, his conversations with a cast of lively and unbelievable characters who you want to believe could be real – The Oldest Man, Wid, Ami and Aba, Salman Mamoo, and the wonderful Zehra, who I think, had I been 11, I would have fallen in love with. The whole story is told with reference to one of the most utterly devastating but remarkably concise opening sequences ever, in which the book’s hero, Hassan Haq, watches his neighbour, Azeem, fall off a roof to his death while trying to fly a kite. A metaphor for freedom, or an illustration of death without purpose; I haven’t finished it yet, so I don’t know. So far, it is utter lyrical genius, I go through the full range of my emotions from one paragraph to the next and feel the need to read bits out loud. I’m reading it slower as I approach the climax – I can’t bear to see what happens to the heroic Salman Haq.

Filmwize: Shrek 2 – 100% as good as Shrek 1, ’nuff said. Garfield – terrible, even for a longstanding Jim Davis, Lasagna and Jennifer Love-Hewitt fan. The Girl Next Door – cringeworthy American teen trash – I liked it a lot. I think that’s enough for now.

Music: undergoing a slight indie revival – Keane, Killers, Razorlight (and yes, ok, Busted and Mcfly), have been on my playlists lately, as well as the Spider-Man 2 soundtrack. Some good stuff there.

Finally: life – been busy. There’ve been some good parties lately, and I’ve met some very good new people: here’s to more, once the thesis is dealt with (I’m dealing, I’m dealing).

[Listening to: run – snow patrol (05:56)]