Review of Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

I read Slaughterhouse Five last year and loved it.  I think Vonnegut’s a genius, and I was super excited about this one.  But somehow it never came together for me.  Although I feel like I missed a lot, which I’m going to blame squarely on myself rather than the author.  I would love to study Vonnegut in a literature class so  I feel like I’m getting more out of his books (although I suspect Vonnegut would laugh at me for that).

Here’s the basic plot, as well as I can describe it: narrator John is researching the father of the atomic bomb right after World War II, Felix Hoenikker (who is fictional but based on actual scientists).  His fate becomes intertwined with that of Hoenikker’s children, Newton, Frank, and Angela, when he travels to San Lorenzo, a fictional small island in the Caribbean.  Frank, who disappeared from home years ago, is now the assistant to the dictator of San Lorenzo, who threatens to impale anyone who misbehaves on a giant hook.

Oh, and one more thing: Dr. Hoenikker’s three children are carrying around their father’s greatest invention, ice-nine, which increases the freezing point of water and could turn the entire planet into ice.

If you’re a Vonnegut fan, the oddness of this story won’t surprise you.  You also won’t be surprised that this book is really about the conflicts between science and religion.  Dr. Hoenikker lives an unhappy life even though his bomb won the war and made him a hero.  His children hate science and what their father represents.  The title of the book refers to a Cat’s Cradle that Dr. Hoenikker makes with string for his young son Newton on the day the bomb was dropped.  Newton sees his father as scary and spends his life wondering how some criss-crossed string can be described as a cat or a cradle, when clearly it looks like neither.

Here’s how it starts:

When I was a much younger man, I began to collect material for a book to be called The Day the World Ended.

The book was to be factual.

The book was to be an account of what important Americans had done on the day when the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan.

It was to be a Christian book.  I was a Christian then.

I am a Bokononist now.

I would have been a Bokononist then, if there had been anyone to teach me the bittersweet lies of Bokonon.

No one points out the ridiculous quite like Vonnegut.  He also makes up (and makes fun of) an entire religion, Bokonon.  John finds a book in San Lorenzo that describes Bokononism, which says that everything, including the religion itself, is a lie, we are bound together by fate, and the greatest intimacy is achieved by two people touching the soles of their feet together.  John tells us this about a woman who thinks she has God all figured out: “She was a fool, and so am I, and so is anyone who thinks he sees what God is Doing [writes Bokonon].”

The book was nominated for a Hugo Award in 1964, and of course, its ideas about nuclear weapons and biological destruction would have been very relevant at the time.  Although as I think about it, those views are just as relevant today.

I have to admire Vonnegut’s amazing creativity and satire, and yet this book wore thin pretty quickly.  I can’t really explain why – I know I haven’t been on my best reading game lately.  If you’re a Vonnegut fan, what did you think of this one?

This book counts towards my Classics Club and To Be Read Pile Challenges.

Review of Life After Life by Kate Atkinson

Life After Life is one of those books that’s hard to review.  It’s a challenging read and it’s got glowing critical reviews.  I’m a big fan of Kate Atkinson, so I expected to like it, and I did.  Be warned though, it’s quite a departure from her other books.  This is a book that combines historical fiction with alternate reality and a good dose of philosophy.  It’s been called science fiction although it definitely blurs a lot of genre lines.

As its title suggests, this is a book about Ursula, a girl born in 1910 England to Sylvie and Hugh Todd.  She’s a middle child of five, a serious, introspective child favored by her father but not so much by her mother.  They live at Fox Corner, a fairly idyllic life in a bustling, well-to-do household. Her story would be an average one of anyone who lives through this turbulent time period, except that for some reason, when she dies, she gets to start again.  Not in a new life but the same one – only she gets to do things a little differently each time and that leads her life down many different directions.  She’s an abused wife in one life, and a bomb warden in another.  She dies at birth in one life, and lives into her fifties in another.

To give you a sense of Atkinson’s writing, here’s Ursula’s perspective as a baby:

Bare branches, buds, leaves – the world as she knew it came and went before Ursula’s eyes.  She observed the turn of the seasons for the first time.  She was born with winter already in her bones, but then came the sharp promise of spring, the fattening of the buds, the indolent heat of summer, the mold and mushroom of autumn.  From within the limited frame of the pram hood she saw it all.  To say nothing of the somewhat random embellishments the seasons brought with them – sun, clouds, birds, a stray cricket ball arcing silently overhead, a rainbow once or twice rain more often than she would have liked.

What makes this book so thoughtful and entertaining is that 1) we get to see how many paths one person’s life might take, given slightly different actions in each one; and 2) we get to experience the years of 1910 through WWII through a lot of different perspectives.  Instead of giving us multiple characters experiencing different parts of the war, Atkinson gives us the same character, just with different knowledge and experience.

The challenge is making sense of what this all means.  Is Ursula special or are we all living parallel lives?  This book plays on déjà vu and those uneasy feelings you get that you can’t pin a cause to.  I certainly get those.  You ever get the feeling you shouldn’t get on the road one day, or a gnawing at your stomach but you can’t say why? Or a feeling you know someone when you’ve never met?  In Ursula’s world, all of those feelings have meaning in another life.  The difference is that Ursula occasionally feels strongly enough about those feelings to act on them, and those actions send her life spiraling in a new direction.

Another question the book raises is, are Ursula’s lives building in a way where she’s improving each time?  Or is she saving herself from drowning only to become a lonely alcoholic in another life.  Atkinson seems to be suggesting we can exert some control over our lives (but only some).  She brings in notions of karma, fate, and consciousness.  Philosophy isn’t my strong point, and I have to admit I’m not sure if this is the kitchen sink approach to the subject or if there is one clear meaning Atkinson is trying to convey.

But that’s one of the things that makes this book a worthwhile read.  It’s not an easy read though.  Ursula’s life stops and starts abruptly, and keeping track of the many different characters and timelines is an effort.  Sometimes the book is written chronologically, and sometimes it seems to hop around to different times.

Ursula herself is a fairly stoic character, and at times, like in Nazi Germany, I really wanted to see more emotion from her.  She seems to understand what the Nazis are doing yet has no reaction to it.   Other times, her quiet strength is admirable and when she’s at her lowest points, it can be devastating.

As usual, I’m trying so hard not to say too much, I’m not sure I’m making sense.  This is powerful historical fiction, that plunks you down in the middle of World War I and World War II in a very unique way.  Her description of London during the bombings is particularly vivid.  It’s always fascinating to see these years through the eyes of women, because women’s lives changed in so many ways during this time.  And Kate Atkinson is such a skilled writer, she really takes you there.

I can’t help but compare Atkinson to Kate Morton, having recently read The Secret Keeper.  Both are skilled writers, but where Morton writes everything in high melodrama, Atkinson writes with a depth and subtlety that I much prefer.  You could make any of Morton’s books into a great movie, and her books are certainly enjoyable.  I’d hate to see anyone try to make Life After Life into a movie.

If you like Atkinson, World War II historical fiction, or philosophy, there’s something for you in this book.  Don’t pick up this book expecting a Jackson Brodie-like mystery novel, or straight-up historical fiction.  This is a book you’ll work at, and think about, and appreciate for its complexity.

Note: I received a complimentary copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Review of The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord

As this book was already on my list of new science fiction to read, I was very happy to receive a complimentary copy of The Best of All Possible Worlds from NetGalley.

I really enjoyed this story, mainly for its concept but I also liked that it’s a book about relationships as much as it is science fiction.

The concept: The Sadiri are a super-intelligent race whose planet is destroyed by an enemy race and their population nearly destroyed.  To rebuild, the Sadiri travel to Cygnus Beta, a planet described as “a galactic hinterland for pioneers and refugees.”  The Sadiri want to reach out to a species called the taSadiri, who are their closest genetic and cultural match, to marry and begin rebuilding their population.

Everyone felt sorry for the Sadiri in those early days, and maybe we were all a little bit overproud of ourselves for hosting them.  Cygnus Beta isn’t a rich colony by any means, but we understand fleeing disaster and war and disease and struggling to find a place where you’re wanted.  A lot of people act like misfortune is contagious.  They don’t want to be exposed to it for too long.  They’ll take you in and make all the right gestures and noises, but when the months wear on and you’re still in their house or their town or their world, the welcome wears a bit thin.

Dllenahkh of the Sadiri teams up with government biotechnician Grace Delarua to plan this mission.  What results is sort of a road trip around the planet, with bonds of friendship gradually formed between the Cygnians and the Sadiri.  The Sadiri are rational and non-emotional (think Vulcans).  The populations on Cygnus Beta are a mix of Terran, Ntshune and Zhinuvian.  Delarua is Terran and part Ntshune, which means she can sense other people’s emotions.  Significantly, she can understand the subtle emotions of the Sadiri, where everyone else just thinks they have no emotions.

If this sounds a lot like Star Trek, the whole book really reminded me of Star Trek, and not in a bad way (despite some obvious concept stealing).  It focuses a lot more on the relationships among different races than it does on space or science.  It deals with ideas about the ethical use of different abilities.  While the races differ on things like how they handle emotion, love, and intellect, they are genetically related enough to form a semi-cohesive society.  Lastly, it had a very Star Trek feel because it’s written as a sort of travelogue, with Dllenahkh and Delarua roaming the planet to explore new cultures.

Even though this is a book about a planet’s destruction and the rebirth of a population, what I liked about it was its everyday feel.  Delarua struggles with work, family, personal growth – and then occasionally she’ll stop and realize the hugeness of what she and Dllenahkh are trying to do.  And while the Sadiri speak very formally, her language is much more commonplace. That made her much more relatable.  (As an aside, I find her occasional use of phrases like “load of crap” a little TOO informal, but that’s me.)

Lord says her book is inspired by the work of Ray Bradbury, and I think that’s in concept rather than writing style.  She raises interesting ideas about oppression, thought and individuality – and like Bradbury (and Star Trek) puts science fiction in very much of a political/sociological context. Since Lord is African-American, you can see the influence of race, culture and gender in this book but it doesn’t overwhelm the story, just adds to it.

She also notes that her book was inspired by the tsunami in the Phillipines that wiped out most of the female population because while the men were out working, the women were closer to home and therefore more vulnerable in the disaster.  I don’t even recall that being discussed in the news, but apparently the gender imbalance had some serious repercussions.

There’s an odd Jane Eyre reference and maybe others here and there, although I can’t say I saw the relevance of that in this book.  However, like a good Austen novel (since I’m not a Bronte fan), what this book does best is the slow building of a friendship between its two main characters, with all of the conflicts and fears that relationships bring.  It’s not action-packed, but there are plenty of dangers and interesting encounters, and the book is a quick read.

If you don’t mind your science fiction a little slower, a little more about personal and political relationships, and a little more thought than action, you will appreciate this book, as I did.

New Science Fiction and Fantasy in 2013

While I’m working on a few reviews, I wanted to post this awesome link to all the best 2013 science fiction and fantasy novels coming out in 2013.

My husband sent me this link, and the first thing that struck me about this list was how many of my favorite authors AND my husband’s favorite authors are included. And we don’t share much in our reading tastes.   Mine: Diana Gabaldon, Kate Atkinson, Stephen King, Gail Carriger, Neil Gaiman, Paulo Bacigalupi, Terry Pratchett, and Brandon Sanderson.  His: Charles Stross, Peter Hamilton, James A. Corey.  We both like Robert Sawyer, John Scalzi, and J.R.R. Tolkien (yes, new Tolkien coming out!).

But what really struck me about the list is how gender-neutral most of it seems.  My husband reads really “male” science fiction (he calls it “hard” science fiction, tee hee).  I like science fiction that’s more plot, less science, like Ray Bradbury or the recent anthology I read, Diverse Energies.  I’m struggling with the term “gender-neutral”, which seems a horribly dry way to discuss books, but what I mean are books that aren’t girly and not screamingly-male.

For example: urban fantasy or steampunk usually = girly.

Space opera = only guys are reading this stuff.

But look at most of the books on the list and you tell me where the categories fall.  You can’t.  Sure, I’m judging mainly by the covers, but let’s face it, science fiction and fantasy covers are usually about as gender-specific as you get in the world of fiction.  And even though I hardly read books with physical covers any more, covers still determine who buys what book.

For a collection of science fiction and fantasy to look this varied says a lot about the changing world of science fiction and fantasy.  I see boundaries being mixed, borders being crossed.  I’m happy to see writers like Stephen King and Diana Gabaldon being included in science fiction and fantasy rather than segregated in the back of the store as horror and romance.  I see new ideas about what is science fiction and fantasy, and women writers emerging as more equal in the field.

Granted, I’m seeing a lot from just a list.  And I’m sure there’s room for criticism: too many series books?  Too much YA?  Too many white authors? What do you think?

Amidst all the greatness on this list, there are also tons of authors I’ve never heard of and can’t wait to try out. So thanks to the husband not only for a fantastic reading list but for turning me on to io9, a really cool website (and while you’re there, you have to check out this awesomeness).

Review: Diverse Energies, a science fiction anthology

I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley.  It’s a science fiction anthology that includes stories from Paolo Bacigalupi and Ursula LeGuin.  While I don’t read a lot of anthologies, it’s also nice to think you might find some new authors to read.

The theme of this anthology is diversity.  Its editor, Tobias S. Buckell, who is Caribbean and British, says:

Books were my entertainment.  I loved tales of fantasy, strange lands, strange worlds, strange futures, and adventure.  And over time I came to realize that most of the books I read had only one kind of hero, one kind of face on the cover.

I write adventures about the future, and of future worlds, and they’re populated by a diverse set of characters.  Why?  It’s the future face of the world.  It’s us.  All of us.  And we all deserve to be seen in the future, having adventures, setting foot on those strange new worlds.

I wanted to see all the sides of my families in stories about the future, from my pale relatives to my dark-skinned ones.  I want to see the whole human race.

I’m not sure what’s the right way to review an anthology.  I can tell you I skipped around a little, and there are a few stories I didn’t finish.  There are a few stories I didn’t like at first but once I gave them ten pages I was deeply drawn into them.  And I can tell you I enjoyed the book as a whole, not just for the statement it’s making, but for the science fiction-dystopian entertainment of it.

My husband likes his science fiction to be pretty technology-driven, and these stories aren’t.  But if you’re looking for good fiction about strange worlds and cultures, or what racism and classism might look like in the future, you’ll enjoy this.

A quick run-down of some of my favorites.

“The Last Day” by Ellen Oh.  Set in Japan, this story is the closest thing I’ve ever seen to what it might feel like to be around when a nuclear bomb goes off.  I won’t forget this story any time soon.

“Good Girl” by Malinda Lo.  About a dystopian future where mixed-ethnicity people are considered to have terminal illnesses and forced to live underground.  And there’s an outside world that nobody’s seen.

“A Pocket Full of Dharma” by Paolo Bacigalupi.  If you’ve read Pump Six, Bacigalupi’s book of short stories, you’ll be disappointed because this story comes from that book.  Still a fascinating story though and one of the best in this collection.  Bacigalupi’s writing really stands out here.

“Blue Skies” by Cindy Pon.  A story of the futuristic divide between haves and have-nots.  In this story, the “haves” (ten percent of the population) breathe through oxygen tanks and have all kinds of futuristic technology where the “have nots” are lucky if they live till thirty. But the real story here is about a brief human interaction between the two classes.

“Solitude” by Ursula LeGuin.   I’ve had trouble reading LeGuin, having started two of her books and put them both down.  Something about her writing style doesn’t work for me, even though I know her books are classic and adored by many.  This story was different.  It’s about a woman who is a field ethnologist, someone who studies different cultures.  She finds a culture that is extremely difficult to communicate with, and the only way to learn about them is to reside in their village with her two young children.  During the time she stays there, her children become so integrated into the culture it becomes impossible to take them from it.  An absolutely fascinating read.

And a few others I enjoyed:

“Pattern Recognition” by Ken Liu.  This is a story about children growing up in a shelter where they work every day to learn and decipher patterns.

“Next Door” by Rahul Kanakia.  Set in the near future, where the “haves” are immersed in virtual technology and barely see what’s going on around them.  The “have-nots” live by squatting in houses and staying out of the way of the upper class.  This story definitely felt like it could be the future.

“What Arms to Hold Us” by Rajan Khanna.

There were maybe three I didn’t care for, by authors K. Tempest Bradford, Daniel H. Wilson, and Greg van Eekhout.  Why?  Two were a little too action-oriented for my tastes, and one started out really interesting but went on a bit too long for me.

But all things considered, this was an anthology that introduced me to new ideas and authors, and scary visions of the future that could very well exist.  I think for many of these stories, we can draw a line between today’s political decisions to what might happen down the road.  And that’s something we should definitely think about.

Review: Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

So much has been said about this book, I’ll keep it short.  That said, it was a great read and I highly recommend it to anyone who grew up in the eighties.

Ready Player One is set in the near future, when mankind has pretty much given up on preserving the Earth and now spends most of its time in OASIS, a virtual world.  Wade Watts attends a virtual high school and is fixated, like most people, on one thing: winning a challenge set by the now-dead James Halliday.  Halliday created OASIS and became the richest man alive, and before he died he created a contest: to find three keys hidden deep in OASIS.  The first to complete the puzzle will win his fortune.

Wade is poor, and mostly family-less except for his aunt.  He lives in a trailer and is lucky to have the basic equipment he needs to log into OASIS.  Without resources he can’t possibly travel to the many worlds inside OASIS to look for the keys.  What he can do, though, is learn everything he possibly can about Halliday’s history and favorite things, which all come from Halliday’s childhood during the eighties.  Just as in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, it’s unrealistic to think that starving little Charlie Bucket is getting a ticket to the factory when every rich parent in the world is paying people to open candy bars.  But if Charlie doesn’t get in, we don’t have a story.

Unlike Halliday, and clearly Ernest Cline, I didn’t like the eighties.  I don’t have warm fuzzy memories of John Hughes movies, Cyndi Lauper, arcade games, etc.  So I thought I wouldn’t enjoy this book, but I did.  Maybe because the eighties pop references are so integrated into a fantastic story.  Maybe because everything in this book was so intricately detailed, I couldn’t help but be impressed.  Reading this book felt like you were part of the puzzle, because everything in it triggers a memory of something you forgot you knew.  Cline doesn’t go for the super-obvious, but for the slightly, more obscure references, like the movie WarGames.

My husband read it first, and he thought all the game references would leave me bored or confused.  It’s true I didn’t get most of the D&D and video game references.  But the cool thing about this book was that somehow Cline makes the story perfectly clear.  And one thing I liked about this book was that even if I wasn’t reliving my childhood, I was at least reading about my husband’s childhood.  And seeing the world through his eyes is always something that makes me happy.

At any rate, if this book was just one long collection of pop culture references, I’d have gotten bored pretty quickly.  But it’s not.  Wade is competing against all the other people trying to win this prize, and he’s also competing against the evil corporation, IOI, which has employed people (the soulless Sixers) who spend their days trying to win this contest so that OASIS can end up under corporate control.  Wade and the other contestants are fighting to keep IOI from ruining their beloved virtual world.

If it sounds a little formula, it is.  It’s predictable, but it also reminded me of all those oh-so-cheesy 80s movies that pitted one smart individual against the evil corporation (think Working Girl or The Secret of My Success or Wall Street).  It’s pop culture clichés piled on top of each other.

But the twist on the solve-the-puzzle, fight-corporate-greed story is this: it’s mostly happening in a virtual world.  So the cool thing about this book is that Cline really thinks about how his story goes in and out of the real world, and what it means if in the future, most of our interactions are through avatars rather than in-person.

This book isn’t Shakespeare, by a long shot.  Cline is either ripping everyone off or he’s completely brilliant.  Either way, it’s a fun and clever read and one I was sorry to put down.

Review of Redshirts by John Scalzi

If you like Star Trek, you’ll appreciate Redshirts: A Novel with Three Codas.  It’s a lot like the movie Galaxy Quest — it makes fun of the genre, but in a way that clearly honors it as well.  If you don’t know what the term “redshirts” means, this probably isn’t the book for you.

Redshirts is the story of five cadets, just out of the Academy and beginning work on the Universal Union starship Intrepid.  The Intrepid is an exploration vehicle, which means it travels to strange new worlds and seeks out new civilizations, etc. etc.  It also takes on unusually dangerous missions.  The crew members face possible death with every away mission.

But for some reason, even though the senior officers charge in bravely, it’s always the young and relatively unimportant cadets who die.  And it’s always from strange things like ice sharks and land worms.

Our five new cadets quickly realize that everyone else on the ship disappears when the Captain comes around.  They know the pattern, and they’ve learned to go get coffee every time an away team is chosen.

Redshirts pokes fun at lots of Star Trek clichés – like the fact that the crew members always have to rush to the bridge with whatever mission-critical data they’ve obtained, even though they all carry tablets and could clearly send the information electronically.   And the fact that there’s always a time countdown, and the situation will always be deadly and always resolved within minutes of that countdown.

But while the story starts out feeling a bit like a Galaxy Quest retread, it turns into something else entirely.  Andy Dahl and the other four cadets have to figure out what’s happening on the ship before they all get sent on away missions and die horrible catastrophic deaths.  Scalzi takes the story in fun and clever directions, which I won’t tell you about.  He also has three “codas” at the end that further tell the story from different perspectives.  I found one of the three codas a little pointless but that’s a small complaint.

If you’ve ever wondered if the world is bigger than what you see around you, or if there are parallel realities out there, or if you’re simply playing a part in someone else’s story, this is a book you’ll enjoy.  The story is convoluted and ridiculous and every page of it is a lot of fun – and even occasionally heartwarming in the way your favorite Star Trek episodes were.

(And I’ll admit I do have favorite Star Trek (Next Generation) episodes – like the one where Deanna Troi finds out she had a sister who died as a girl.  Or where Dr. Crusher falls in love with a man who turns out to be a body hosting a parasite – and when the man-body dies the parasite is transferred into the body of a woman.  And the one where Picard has to learn to speak an alien language that’s all metaphor.  Come to think of it, someone DOES die in every episode.)

Like his last novel Fuzzy Nation, Scalzi has a writing style where you almost feel you’re reading a screenplay.  He’s a little light on character development (although so was Star Trek; these are redshirts after all).  But he’s great at telling a clever, humorous, yet complicated story where you really feel like you’re watching it all unfold.  Kind of like it’s a TV show. And you’re part of the story.

The Invisible Man and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

NOTE: this review has spoilers.  I’m assuming, since these books are classics, a basic knowledge of the plot. But if you don’t already know the story feel free to stop reading this review.  Both books should be read by anyone who enjoys classic science fiction.

I read these two books for the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Challenge, and also because I’m having such a good time reading classic science fiction/horror.  These two books had very similar themes so it seemed a good idea to combine them in review.

The Invisible Man, one of the earlier works of HG Wells, was published in 1897.  Wells is considered one of the “fathers” of science fiction, although he wrote many works that were not science fiction.  Robert Louis Stevenson, on the other hand, is known more for his adventure novels like Treasure Island and Kidnapped.  Jekyll and Hyde was published in 1886, in both the United States and Britain.

Both address issues of morality as it relates to scientific discovery.  The Invisible Man is about a scientist named Griffin who researches optics and discovers a way to make himself invisible.  Unfortunately, becoming invisible actually destroys his life, turning him against mankind.

Jekyll and Hyde is about a doctor who discovers a way to split his personality into two distinct human beings: the rational, intellectual side and the physical, desire-driven side.  Unlike Griffin, Hyde isn’t evil necessarily, although he does evil things.

In both of these novels, the authors are exploring what happens when scientific discovery gives us power.  Is it inevitable that power corrupts?  What happens when we are free of inhibition?  Is there evil lurking within us that will only grow more powerful if we don’t control it?

Of the two, I enjoyed Jekyll and Hyde more, for the simple reason that Jekyll struggles with his transformation and the release of his “dark side”.  It’s also something of a commentary on the societal expectations of the day.  Griffin, on the other hand, seems to have no redeeming characteristics whatsoever, even before he becomes invisible.  On his quest for invisibility he describes horribly experimenting on the neighbor’s cat.  He leaves her in great pain and mostly invisible, then shooes her out the door and lies to his neighbor.

Still, The Invisible Man is a great action tale, once it gets going.  I loved the way Wells describes Griffin’s flight from the townspeople and his “Reign of Terror” over Tom Marvel and Dr. Kemp.  The writing is so descriptive it’s like you’re there.

As the barman entered the room he saw Marvel, curiously crumpled up and struggling against the door that led to the yard and kitchen.  The door flew open while the Barman hesitated, and Marvel was dragged into the kitchen.  There was a scream, and a clatter of pans.  Marvel, head down, and lugging back obstinately, was forced to the kitchen door, and the bolts were drawn.

Then the policeman, who had been trying to pass the barman, rushed in, followed by one of the cabmen, gripped the wrist of the invisible hand that collared Marvel, was hit in the face and went reeling back.  … The voice of the Invisible Man was heard for the first time, yelling out sharply as the policeman trod on his foot.  Then he cried out passionately and his fists flew around like flails.  The cabman suddenly whooped and doubled up, kicked under the diaphragm.  The door into the bar-parlour from the kitchen slammed and covered Mr. Marvel’s retreat.  The men in the kitchen found themselves clutching at and struggling with empty air.

Unfortunately, Griffin is not only heartless, he’s not particularly bright.  And that’s the crux of the story.  He’s so anxious to become invisible he never thinks about what his life will be like.  He can’t eat because you can see the food being digested.  He either has to be completely naked or clothed from head to toe.  If he uses his power to steal,  he will be caught and his secret exposed.

I particularly liked when Griffin is describing his attempt to steal clothing from a local store so he doesn’t have to go naked.  He sneaks into a department store, then has to stay there overnight once the doors are locked.  The problem?  Once the staff come in the next morning to open up, there’s no way for him to sneak out without alerting everyone to his invisibility.

Dr. Jekyll, on the other hand, is a character the reader can sympathize with.  He creates an uninhibited version of himself, and uses this side to do horrible, amoral things.  The reader never knows quite what those things are (although they presumably involve sex).  Like Dorian Gray, it’s not clear whether Hyde is hurting anyone or simply violating social mores (or hurting himself through drugs, drink, and STDs).  Jekyll doesn’t mean for Hyde to hurt anyone, and he doesn’t mean to lose control of his creation; but he does seem to enjoy being Hyde for a while.

The fun thing about Jekyll and Hyde is that it’s written in such a way that the turn of the century reader clearly would not know that Jekyll and Hyde are the same person.  Everyone knows that today, but the book is a mystery that doesn’t unfold until the very end.  I wish I could read this book as they did in the 1880’s, without knowing its outcome.

On the other hand, the fun thing about reading classics is to see how they’ve shaped literature and entertainment over the years, and these two books certainly have.

Review of Living Proof by Kira Peikoff

Living Proof, by first time novelist Kira Peikoff, has a really great concept and is an enjoyable and thought-provoking read.  I received a copy of this book from NetGalley and the book was published on February 28, 2012 by Tor/Forge Books.

The story takes place in the near future, where Dr. Arianna Drake is running a fertility clinic under the careful watch of the government – which monitors the production of every embryo so that no embryos can be used for stem cell research or harmed in any way.  This is the Christian-extremist version of the near future, which doesn’t really seem all that far-fetched.  Personhood is now defined at the creation of every embryo rather than at birth or during the fetal period.  So not only is every embryo tagged and monitored, but every pregnant woman is subject to government review every month and is considered a criminal if she does anything (like drinking a glass of wine) to harm her fetus.

Arianna is careful to pass every government inspection, but she has a secret.  She’s working with a team of scientists to clone embryos for stem cell research.  Her mission?  To find a cure for the impending condition of multiple sclerosis that will have her in a wheelchair within months.

Unfortunately, a growing number of women seem to be visiting the clinic, and the government is suspicious.  So they send in an agent, Trent, to get to know her.  Trent poses as a romantic interest and lures her into friendship so he can learn more about what she’s doing.  Trent considers himself to be a Christian and a good government employee, but he also struggles with the morality of what his religious beliefs and his job require him to do.

I’ll stop there with the plot summary.  What follows is a mix of science fiction, thriller, and just generally a good story that raises a lot of important issues.  I always find it’s hard to mix good story-telling and point-making but this book does it well.  In the process I also learned a ton about stem cell research and embryo production, but I’ll admit a lot of it went over my head.

Arianna is an awesome character, strong and smart and courageous, although her vulnerability with Trent is frustrating.  She is so guarded yet she meets Trent and believes everything he tells her.  I wanted to shake her and yell “wake up you idiot!”  But at the same time, here’s a woman who’s so independent and intelligent, and lives under this huge burden of disability and impending death, that you can totally understand her wanting to believe in somebody.

At times her mission to cure MS also seems a little selfish, because she’s putting other scientists and friends at great risk.  But clearly, a cure for her will be ground-breaking for many others, and could possibly change the political trajectory for stem cell research.  And you can hardly blame someone for trying to cure their own disease first.

An interesting note about the author: While studying journalism at NYU, she reported on the White House for the Orange County Register.  In the summer of 2006, she watched as President Bush announced a veto to deny federal funding for embryonic stem cell research.  That experience led to the creation of this book.

All in all, this book was enjoyable, fast-moving, easy to read yet full of interesting social, political, religious and scientific issues.  Highly recommended.

My Review of a Review: Sword & Laser Episode 1

Last weekend I watched the first episode of Sword & Laser, a science fiction/fantasy show that airs on Felicia Day’s You Tube channel, Geek & Sundry.  Okay, that was a mouthful.  I thought I’d post a brief review of the show, in case you’re interested.

Sword & Laser is hosted by Veronica Belmont and Tom Merritt (she’s the Sword, he’s the Laser).  The show runs about 30 minutes and airs every two weeks.  The first episode was a nice mix of science fiction/fantasy news, info about new releases, questions and comments from viewers, an author interview, and a discussion of this month’s book.  For example, they talked about the Hugo nominees, and how e-book readers are reading a lot of new and never-heard-of science fiction and fantasy authors, and how that’s probably good for the field.

It’s a good format and a fun set, equipped with medieval goblets and a smoke-breathing dragon (which was maybe a bit forced but it’s the first episode after all).  Plus, I was able to casually comment to my husband later that night, “so I hear Robert J. Sawyer has a new book coming out” — and that little bit of knowledge about things he likes honestly makes me happy.

Sword & Laser also has a GoodReads book group, so it’s not clear to me how much book reviewing will actually take place on the show and how much is on GoodReads.  In case you’re worried about spoilers (I was, so I finished The Magicians before I watched), no need to worry.  In fact, our two hosts hadn’t even finished the book yet.  So this first episode was more of a teaser than a review.  They do plan on having Lev Grossman on the show in a couple weeks, so I’m looking forward to that.

The author interview took up most of the show, and in this case it wasn’t an author I was super-interested in (Scott Sigler, Nocturnal).  I was disappointed by how little time was spent talking about The Magicians, because that’s what I was tuning in for.

Still, it’s a fun show overall and the only science fiction-fantasy video book club I know of!  I’m definitely in for future episodes.  As for The Magicians, it was a very cool book that I’ll review soon.  It’s one of the rare fantasy books that really stays in your head for days after you read it.  And that’s a good thing.