Just for completeness... (part one)
Jan. 1st, 2007 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
perlmongerHere are the rest of the books I finished in the first half of last year, after January, February and March.
Pattern Recognition, by William Gibson
This book continues Gibson’s migration towards, errm, the Mundane whilst retaining a fine sfnal sensibility. A technothriller, but a throughly sf technothriller, and excellent it is too. My only quibble (apart from slight computer geek twitches in some details) is that parts of the final resolution felt a little too pat; whether poorly thought through or edited a step too far, I don’t know, but enough to irritate as the rest is so very good indeed. Worth reading.
Neverwhere, by Neil Gaiman
A superior fantasy, but then that’s what I’ve come to expect from Gaiman; there’s really absolutely nothing to fault here. Not everyone will agree with the way the book ends - I’m not always sure that I do - but that’s really a question of the final flavour the book leaves, and either way would have worked (he writes, desperately trying not to write a spoiler). Recommended.
Branson, by Tom Bower
Now this is a tricky one. It’s difficult for me to decide whether the subject or the author are more vile; Branson probably is pretty much as bad as this hatchet job makes out, but Bower himself comes across, in his writing, as an utter shit as well. I think, on balance, that Richard Branson is the lesser evil as, whatever his methods and attitudes might be, he has actually achieved something: his values may be greed and self-aggrandisement, but Tom Bower appears to have no values of any kind at all. Read, but wear protective gloves.
1610: A Sundial in a Grave, by Mary Gentle
Like Ash, this apparent historical fantasy is really better classified as science fiction, but either way it’s a fine romp through a Revolutionary France and Stuart England not too far distant from those on our timeline. I’m curious about how this, which whether sf or fantasy is indisputably a Historical Romance, compares with more, for want of a better word, mainstream fiction set in a similar time. Perhaps I should add some Philippa Gregory to my to-read pile, or persuade![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ramtops to read this and offer her verdict. Thoroughly recommended anyhow.
Kitchen Confidential, by Anthony Bourdain
I really don’t understand why anybody would want to be a cook, a chef, or to run a restaurant. I didn’t understand before I read this book, and I sure as fuck don’t after... I don’t doubt there’s exaggeration and hyperbole in here, but it feels clear enough that it’s built on a core of truth. Mysteries remain though: how on Earth has he his wife stayed with him? How can he, or any other cook who smokes as much as he does, actually taste anything worth a damn? Oh, and how come he’s still alive?... There are useful observations on the politics of food in there too, and it’s a jolly good read. Recommended, if you like food at all; but possibly not if you’re vegetarian or Vegan ;)
Feersum Endjinn, by Iain M. Banks
I’ve put off reading this for years, because I’ve not wanted to try struggling through its mutilated English grammar and syntax; finally reading Riddley Walker in 2005 which I’d avoided for the same reason, and which turned out to be stunningly good, prompted me to put this into my to-read list too. I’m glad I did: it’s not quite in the same class as the Hoban, but this is good stuff. Much as I love the Culture books, I reckon that Banks’ best sf is in his other works and this, if you can cope with Bascule’s use of language, is indeed recommended.
Childhood’s End, by Arthur C. Clarke
Re-reading this again, in 2006, was interesting: was Clarke the first to deal with racial, planetary singularity and transcendence? The theme and structure of this book could have been taken from any of a dozen sf novels written in the last five years; I wonder how many authors realise that they’re once again ratcheting another turn round the helix and not really exploring new ground? Clarke’s writing itself was rarely stellar and this isn’t an exception, but it’s engaging enough, and the underlying concepts are dealt with well: it’s very much worth a read if it’s new to you and, if you’ve not picked it up for twenty (or fifty!) years, worth reviewing in light of where the ideas it pioneered have ended up today.
Maybe I’ll get books 17 to 35 written up before this year’s backlog gets too long...
April
Pattern Recognition, by William GibsonThis book continues Gibson’s migration towards, errm, the Mundane whilst retaining a fine sfnal sensibility. A technothriller, but a throughly sf technothriller, and excellent it is too. My only quibble (apart from slight computer geek twitches in some details) is that parts of the final resolution felt a little too pat; whether poorly thought through or edited a step too far, I don’t know, but enough to irritate as the rest is so very good indeed. Worth reading.
Neverwhere, by Neil GaimanA superior fantasy, but then that’s what I’ve come to expect from Gaiman; there’s really absolutely nothing to fault here. Not everyone will agree with the way the book ends - I’m not always sure that I do - but that’s really a question of the final flavour the book leaves, and either way would have worked (he writes, desperately trying not to write a spoiler). Recommended.
May
Branson, by Tom BowerNow this is a tricky one. It’s difficult for me to decide whether the subject or the author are more vile; Branson probably is pretty much as bad as this hatchet job makes out, but Bower himself comes across, in his writing, as an utter shit as well. I think, on balance, that Richard Branson is the lesser evil as, whatever his methods and attitudes might be, he has actually achieved something: his values may be greed and self-aggrandisement, but Tom Bower appears to have no values of any kind at all. Read, but wear protective gloves.
1610: A Sundial in a Grave, by Mary GentleLike Ash, this apparent historical fantasy is really better classified as science fiction, but either way it’s a fine romp through a Revolutionary France and Stuart England not too far distant from those on our timeline. I’m curious about how this, which whether sf or fantasy is indisputably a Historical Romance, compares with more, for want of a better word, mainstream fiction set in a similar time. Perhaps I should add some Philippa Gregory to my to-read pile, or persuade
ramtops to read this and offer her verdict. Thoroughly recommended anyhow.June
Kitchen Confidential, by Anthony BourdainI really don’t understand why anybody would want to be a cook, a chef, or to run a restaurant. I didn’t understand before I read this book, and I sure as fuck don’t after... I don’t doubt there’s exaggeration and hyperbole in here, but it feels clear enough that it’s built on a core of truth. Mysteries remain though: how on Earth has he his wife stayed with him? How can he, or any other cook who smokes as much as he does, actually taste anything worth a damn? Oh, and how come he’s still alive?... There are useful observations on the politics of food in there too, and it’s a jolly good read. Recommended, if you like food at all; but possibly not if you’re vegetarian or Vegan ;)
Feersum Endjinn, by Iain M. BanksI’ve put off reading this for years, because I’ve not wanted to try struggling through its mutilated English grammar and syntax; finally reading Riddley Walker in 2005 which I’d avoided for the same reason, and which turned out to be stunningly good, prompted me to put this into my to-read list too. I’m glad I did: it’s not quite in the same class as the Hoban, but this is good stuff. Much as I love the Culture books, I reckon that Banks’ best sf is in his other works and this, if you can cope with Bascule’s use of language, is indeed recommended.
Childhood’s End, by Arthur C. ClarkeRe-reading this again, in 2006, was interesting: was Clarke the first to deal with racial, planetary singularity and transcendence? The theme and structure of this book could have been taken from any of a dozen sf novels written in the last five years; I wonder how many authors realise that they’re once again ratcheting another turn round the helix and not really exploring new ground? Clarke’s writing itself was rarely stellar and this isn’t an exception, but it’s engaging enough, and the underlying concepts are dealt with well: it’s very much worth a read if it’s new to you and, if you’ve not picked it up for twenty (or fifty!) years, worth reviewing in light of where the ideas it pioneered have ended up today.
Maybe I’ll get books 17 to 35 written up before this year’s backlog gets too long...