Review: Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges

First published in 1945, his Ficciones compressed several centuries' worth of philosophy and poetry into 17 tiny, unclassifiable pieces of prose. He offered up diabolical tigers, imaginary encyclopedias, ontological detective stories, and scholarly commentaries on nonexistent books, and in the process exploded all previous notions of genre. For good or for ill, the blind Argentinian paved the way for a generation's worth of postmodern monkey business - and fiction will never be simply "fiction" again. ~ Mary Park

As I was reading Ficciones I was often stumped because I had trouble reconciling the title of the collection with what I was reading. Oh, I did understand that the pieces were fiction, but they read like philosophical treatises so often that by the time I was halfway through a piece I'd forget how it started or what it was supposed to be about. You understand why it took me longer than usual to finish this book, even by story collection standards.
Fortunately there were a handful of stories that kept me going: The Circular Ruins, The Garden of Forking Paths, The Shape of the Sword, Death and the Compass, and The Secret Miracle had just enough philosophy to elevate them to literary status and just enough genre to make them engaging and easy to follow. These six stories had mystery and intrigue to make the very serious questions or morality, fate and wonder seem more down to earth, and I enjoyed them immensely. Yes, my tastes trend toward the bourgeois when it comes to books, and I'm not ashamed to admit it! Seems G.K. Chesterton thought similarly at least part of the time (see banner quote).
Borges' work is definitely inspiring in that it prompts the reader to think about the various "what if"s of the universe, such as what if we're just a figment of a greater being's imagination, what if there is more than one future, what if our potential is so much greater than we know, what if our understanding of history is fundamentally flawed. And he did have a wonderful way with words. The vividness of his writing reminded me of Ray Bradbury, except that Borges' feels more effortless and graceful. I'm guessing the rest of his books aren't particularly light reading either, but given a choice I'll take Borges' collected works any day.

Review: Disgrace by J. M. Coetzee

David Lurie is a twice divorced, 52-year-old professor of communications and Romantic Poetry at Cape Technical University. Lurie believes he has created a comfortable, if somewhat passionless, life for himself. He lives within his financial and emotional means. Though his position at the university has been reduced, he teaches his classes dutifully; and while age has diminished his attractiveness, weekly visits to a prostitute satisfy his sexual needs. He considers himself happy. But when Lurie seduces one of his students, he sets in motion a chain of events that will shatter his complacency and leave him utterly disgraced.

When I think of a book I ask myself "What is this book about?", and I did the same thing with Disgrace. The answer to my own question puzzled me: I'm not exactly sure. It's definitely about a man who undergoes a series of traumatic events and changes as a result, but not too much. It's also about the people of South African rural areas, about family, about attitudes toward the four-legged creatures with whom we share the planet, morality, deceit and about how all these things are thrown into sharp relief when the circumstances are just right. Yet it's not about any of them. Finally I decided that this book is about how all the different parts of life affect a person, mold him, shape him, break him and, well, change him. Make him better? Maybe. Make him different from who he was the day before? Definitely.
The best novels always have strong characters who make you care about them, even if they're not all that likeable. David Lurie is not likeable at all, in fact he is kind of despicable, and yet Coetzee made it easy to sympathize with him. Not approve, mind you, but definitely sympathize. He takes us into Professor Lurie's head and we live through his experiences with him, feeling his indignation and disdain, his self-doubt and finally his affection for his daughter who he cannot help and who continues to reject his advice and his assistance. It's difficult to remain indifferent when one is allowed into a character's life like that.
I hear there is a lot of controversy and strong opinions about this book. I haven't looked into this, but I think that they stem from the situation David Lurie's daughter finds herself in, the part of the story that deals with animals, and the interactions between the white and black South Africans. I don't really understand why there is controversy. Coetzee's position regarding all events of the novel is neutral, it's as if he is simply reporting the facts as he witnesses them. He's not expressing opinions or taking sides, he is just telling a story. It is a fact though that this story makes one think about everything it touches upon. Isn't that what a good novel is supposed to do?
I would highly recommend this novel to any reader who is willing to give the book that isn't at all happy a chance simply because it's a good story very well told.

Review: Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect. He was laying on his hard, as it were armor-plated, back and when he lifted his head a little he could see his domelike brown belly divided into stiff arched segments on top of which the bed quilt could hardly keep in position and was about to slide off completely. His numerous legs, which were pitifully thin compared to the rest of his bulk, waved helplessly before his eyes."

When I first read this book in high school my impression of it was "What terrible drivel! And this guy is a literary heavyweight!?", which is just more proof that what is considered literature was not written for children and therefore children are not the best audience for these works. They're just not equipped to understand the nuances of the story and to read between the lines. Of course there's always the option that my teacher wasn't all that good or that I was a particularly dense teenager, but I prefer the first theory.
If you read up on Metamorphosis you'll see the opinion that Gregor's transformation into an insect was just a physical manifestation of what he already was. Another commonly-accepted view is that the more important metamorphosis was that of the Samsa family as a result of Gregor's transformation. These interpretations made me think about the significance of Gregor changing into a creature that is revolting, a creature the family tries to accept but at the end cannot, and I wonder, for what is that a metaphor? What kind of person is Kafka writing about, what is it about him that is so unacceptable to his family? There is a passage toward the beginning of the book that indicates that there's something wrong with the lower abdomen of the insect Gregor, that it's diseased in some way. Then toward the end there is a passage about Gregor wanting to kiss his sister's neck. Do these passages reveal something about the nature of this character that overnight makes him a pariah in his own family? I think they do, and maybe I'm over-thinking it, but when viewed through that prism the story makes more sense than when it's not.
I'm pleased to say that this re-reading confirmed for me that Kafka's work deserves every bit of its exalted reputation. He really was a master of weaving stories that feel very close when you read them, despite the fantastical nature. Reading this book you can see the Samsas' apartment, them, and their issues. You even somewhat understand why the family feel about Gregor the way they do, regardless of his present state. After all, you know the man who dreams about kissing his sister's neck was odd even before his transformation into a gigantic insect. In fact, Metamorphosis is full of such implied revelations, but you have to be paying attention to see them. I would definitely recommend reading closely to get the most of out this book, and indeed any other of Kafka's work, because it seems that the boldest ideas are the closest to the truth with this author. Just bear in mind that often his imagery is far from innocent.
I'm curious to read more of Kafka's work now and I'm fully prepared to take my time with every piece, because his writing is just not something you should breeze through. Should you decide to pick up anything he's written I recommend you prepare yourself to take your time as well.

Review: Beloved by Toni Morrison

Sethe was born a slave and escaped to Ohio, but eighteen years later she is still not free. She has too many memories of Sweet Home, the beautiful farm where so many hideous things happened. And Sethe's new home is haunted by the ghost of her baby, who died a violent death and whose tombstone is engraved with a single word: Beloved.

My first experience with Toni Morrison's writing was in college when the professor assigned The Bluest Eye. I don't remember much about the plot, but I do remember that it made me feel like I was in the presence of a literary great. The quality of writing was superb and even after reading a number of wonderful books that semester The Bluest Eye impressed me most. Fast forward to this year, when I first saw that Beloved was on the Fiction of Relationship reading list. I knew I was in for a treat yet at the same time I was not sure that the book would live up to my inflated expectations. When the time came to actually read it I was relieved to see that Morrison is consistent in her ability to impress me. Her prose is beautiful in its simplicity, her characters full of life. She simply tells the story and you can't help but care about the people in it, can't help but wonder what will happen next. She doesn't try to make you like her characters, they are who they are with their complicated lives and choices, but you care about them nonetheless. The character who made the biggest impression on me was Denver because she not only had a unique way of dealing with the difficulties her life presented, but she also was the one who stepped up to the challenge of Beloved's presence in the most impressive way. She started out a child younger than her 18 years, yet at the close of the novel she was transformed into a young woman mature beyond her years.
The novel is set in the South before and after the Civil War and tells the stories of Sethe and other former Sweet Home slaves as they build lives for themselves on and off the farm. Their experiences, their desires and their despair are highlighted all the more by our present lives and the fact that many of the events Morrison describes are unthinkable to the present-day reader. They seem almost surreal in their realism, and I had to remind myself that things like what Morrison talks about did happen, and not that long ago.
I believe that a sign of a good book is that it makes you think. More often than not such books don't go down smoothly, but they sure stay with you. They make you want to ponder what's said on those pages, revisit ideas and impressions, look back at the beliefs you hold and see if they still hold up. Beloved does that, and no, it's not an easy read. Not only is it not easy, it also doesn't give up all its secrets, not even at the very end. You can turn the last page and believe what you choose about Beloved because her story doesn't really have an ending, which to me is incredibly intriguing. How do you write a story where the same events can be both supernatural and perfectly explainable? How do you create characters who are both flesh and blood and the product of superstition? I don't know if Morrison's is the only way, but it sure is effective.
I've been thinking for a several days now whether I would recommend this book to a friend and I can't come up with a an answer. On one hand it's not a straightforward book and I don't believe that someone who's looking for a straightforward story would appreciate it. On the other hand it is so well-written that I'm tempted to insist that my friends read it. So my answer would be like that flow-chart, Are you looking for a simple escapist story? Then no, you won't enjoy this novel. Are you looking for something to feed your brain and be beautiful at the same time? Then yes, this novel is for you.

Review: The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas

Siss and Unn are two friends who have only spent one evening in each other's company. But so profound is this evening between them that when Unn inexplicably disappears, Siss's world is shattered. Siss's struggle with her fidelity to the memory of her friend and Unn's fatal exploration of the strange, terrifyingly beautiful frozen waterfall that is the Ice Palace are at the center of this novel.

Had this elegant short novel not been assigned I most likely wouldn't have finished it, but now that I have read it I'm glad that setting it aside wasn't an option. Vesaas writing style is almost painfully spare, which takes some getting used to, yet once I got into it I kept marveling at the beauty of it. It's as if he set out to write a novel as stark as Norwegian winter itself, all sharp lines and few colors, intense in its subdued grace, frozen in place but ready for the spring thaw. It's as if he knew that if he gave the readers just enough they would create in their minds a world that would meld with the bare bones of the story and they would feel a part of it.
The story itself is rather simple: it follows a girl on the cusp of adolescence grieving the disappearance of a new friend, going through disbelief, acceptance and finally release. It's the elegance of execution and the profound insight into the characters that sets this novel apart. Vessas' children seem innocent and straightforward, and yet their problems are complex and far-reaching. The adults are an interesting combination of contradictions: on one hand they give children plenty of freedom to get through problems on their own and on the other hand it's clear just how concerned they are about the youngsters' welfare. One very special character I didn't expect was nature: Vesaas wove it into the plot so much that eventually the ice gripping the small village feels almost alive, it is certainly just as animated as any of the human characters.
I really want to talk about the details but for the sake of not spoiling the novel I will refrain. Just go get it and read it. It's worth every penny.

Review: Light in August by William Faulkner

August in a small town of Jefferson, MS becomes the scene of life-changing events for guileless, dauntless Lena Grove, in search of the father of her unborn child; Reverend Gail Hightower, who is plagued by visions of Confederate horsemen; and Joe Christmas, a desperate, enigmatic drifter consumed by his mixed ancestry.

I tend to be intimidated by classical literature. There's so much praise and admiration that more often than not I don't pick up these books for fear of them being too much or too little or just at the wrong time. So here I was, with another classic on my reading list, this one more recent than the rest and yes, I didn't jump right in, but the further I got the more I thought that I should have. It is beautiful and insightful and every word in it counts. I actually tried to skim on a number of occasions because of the assignment deadline and very shortly learned that I could not do that. Every time I tried I missed something, so I stopped trying.
Faulkner most likely wouldn't be to everybody's taste: his writing style is peculiar with unusual punctuation, he creates his own words by putting other words together, a lot of the characters behave in a reprehensible fashion and none are all that likeable. To top it all off his descriptions can take you off guard or confuse you if you're not paying attention. But if you are paying attention this book is worth every minute of your time. I couldn't help but read and reread some passages because they cut through all the superficiality and got to the very core of the human condition and human interaction.
I think Faulkner was a very attentive observer of people and when he set out to write a book about the not-so-pretty side of life he didn't hold back in using what he saw. Here's what he said about women: "Her own self one of the first ones to cut the ground from under a sister woman". If that's not brutally honest I don't know what is, because let's face it, we women often aren't too kind to our own. There's plenty more where that came from and combined with quite a bit of violence with no remorse it can be jarring.
An author can have all the writing mojo in the world but to have real staying power a novel has to have something that will touch the reader, something that will get them thinking about more than the plot. Light in August does that. It brings up issues of identity, fitting in, race, gender, family history and faith, things we all have to contend with at one time or another. Lena in particular made me think about believing that things will work out. I think books like this one can be re-read time and time again and every time something new would be relevant. I'm usually not one to re-read, but for a while now I've been wondering whether that's because most of the novels I pick up don't have as much to offer as books like this one do.
With this I'm going to leave you. Jorge Luis Borges is up next and I'm looking forward to seeing what his Ficciones hold in store.

Review: Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville

When the proprietor of a law office in New York hires a new clerk for his practice he seems to have found a colorful yet beneficial addition for his already colorful team. But when the new employee begins to inform the proprietor that he "would prefer not to" perform his duties things get really interesting.

I have heard about this book from a friend of mine, who's read it with her book club, so I generally knew what to expect in terms of plot developments. I was however pleasantly surprised by the characters in this novella. They were all remarkable in one way or another and since they were all very distinct their differences stood out all the more. It seems that authors in the middle of the 19th century weren't afraid to make their characters full of personality, take Dickens for example, and Melville definitely followed the same tradition. I particularly enjoyed the character of the proprietor, who is the narrator of this story. He tries so hard to be on good terms with all of his employees, regardless of the trouble they cause him, and makes up excuses to not take any action that would make him look good in his own eyes.
What I didn't expect is how plodding the pace is. Now that I've read Benito Cereno I think that's something that is common in Melville's work. The same type of scene seemed to repeat over and over without furthering the plot or developing the characters. The only thing this repetition seemed to accomplish was to convince me further of utter and complete spinelessness of the proprietor, but I already knew that so it wore on me. I did enjoy the ending though. It seemed somewhat abrupt because events moved along faster than the rest of the story but it was very satisfying. In a way it was the only appropriate ending, anything else wouldn't have worked quite as well. It also redeemed the proprietor in my eyes somewhat, he did have a good heart even if his will was lacking. Despite the extremely slow middle of the novella the ending saved it for me and for a few days after finishing it I kept thinking about the characters and the story. I can see why Melville is considered such an important figure in American literature and why this particular piece is still widely read. I would recommend Bartleby if you want to read a work that will inspire you to think about people, their motivations and how they relate to each other.

Review: Manon Lescaut by Abbé Prévost

"The sweetness of her glance - or rather, my evil star already in its ascendant and drawing me to my ruin - did not allow me to hesitate for a moment..." So begins the story of Manon Lescaut, a tale of passion and betrayal, of delinquency and misalliance, which moves from early eighteenth-century Paris - with its theatres, assemblies, and gaming-houses - via prison and deportation to a tragic denouement in the treeless wastes of Louisiana. It is one of the great love stories, and also one of the most enigmatic: how reliable a witness is Des Grieux, Manon's lover, whose tale he narrates? Is Manon a thief and a whore, the image of love itself, or a thoroughly modern woman?

Remembering how intense my last Coursera experience was, what with needing to read a novel a week and do plenty of other related work I decided to give myself a head start on the Fiction of Relationships curriculum. Manon Lescaut will be the first novel we'll be covering and I'm glad I wasn't restricted in time when I read it. No, it's not long and it doesn't place any serious demands on the reader's faculties, but it does tax one's patience. At least it did that to mine.
It took me a while to get into the story because it is told in a very old-fashioned way, it begins at the end, then jumps to the beginning and works its way to the end again; it is also the perfect example of the author telling much more than showing. I did my best to remember that if this book is on the curriculum of a Brown University course there must be value in it, so I read closely in an effort to not miss this value among all the exceedingly flowery phrases and moralizing debates on the subjects of love and virtue. See, I read so closely that the floweriness has seeped into my brain! But I digress. I kept thinking that if nothing else this book provides an excellent example of how literature has changed since the 1700s and how I needed to pay attention to the relationships described in the novel since that will be the focus of the course. And then something curious happened: as irritated as I was by Manon's flightiness and Grieux's lack if backbone, as well as the archaic language, I soon found that the characters weren't entirely unsympathetic and began reflecting on all the reckless and crazy things people do in the name of love. Somehow this novel broke through the frustration and touched me.
This realization alone surprised me to no end and I continued reading with a certain degree of enjoyment. Imagine my surprise when I finished the book, looked it up online, and found that Manon Lescaut isn't as obscure as I imagined. Authors of novels hailed as classics referenced it in their work, it continues to inspire composers and dramatists, it is the subject of quite a few academic papers and it's still being published with the latest edition released in 2005! (Don't you just love Wikipedia?)
In the end although I wouldn't recommend this novel to a friend in search of an engaging and fun read I'm glad I read it, if purely because it's widened my literary horizons and showed that love has always been blind and young people have always been capable of highly imprudent behavior. It's human nature, after all!

Review: Little Brother by Cory Doctorow

Marcus aka “w1n5t0n,” is only seventeen years old, but he already knows how the system works – and how to work the system. Smart, fast, and wise to the ways of the networked world, he has no trouble outwitting his high school’s intrusive but clumsy surveillance systems.
But his whole world changes when he and his friends find themselves caught in the aftermath of a major terrorist attack on San Francisco. In the wrong place at the wrong time, Marcus and his crew are apprehended by the Department of Homeland Security and whisked away to a secret prison where they’re mercilessly interrogated for days.
When the DHS finally releases them, his injured best friend Darryl does not come out. The city has become a police state where every citizen is treated like a potential terrorist. He knows that no one will believe his story, which leaves him only one option: "M1k3y" will expose the DHS himself.

We all know someone who insists on paying for everything in cash, or who won't bank online, or who is absolutely convinced that big brother is out to get them and everybody else, or at least that big brother is watching. We listen to them and think to ourselves "That's just crazy talk. Can you say Paranoia?". But what if they're right? What if those security cameras are more than just ordinary anti-theft precautions? What if our spending histories are tracked by some entity other than our banks? What if all the electronic devices we've come to rely on so much can be and are monitored to establish our movement patterns and what not? It's not really paranoia if what you're concerned about is really going on. Cory Doctorow examines a world like that, a world where everything is bugged. School books have chips in them, gait recognition cameras are everywhere, credit cards and public transit passes are used to track movement of their holders, and all this feeds into whatever agency is in charge, be that the school board or the Department of Homeland Security. After a terrorist attack the system is thrown into overdrive and Marcus is one of the first victims of the indiscriminate checks performed by the overzealous officials, who seem to be looking for someone, anyone to pin the crime on. At only 17 he's scared but he's not backing down, instead he's fighting the system with its own weapons.
My favorite thing about Marcus is that he is a realistic character in that he is not some superhero devoid of fear, and when he is afraid he is not too proud to admit it. At the end of the day he is just a kid against adults who have all the power, he fights when he can and with the tools he has but he isn't reckless about it because he knows that more than just his freedom is on the line. And when things go as far as they can with the status quo unchanged he recognizes that it's time to take the fight to the next level, time to hand it off to those with more resources and more influence. He is also a 17 year old with a life outside of the fight. He has a girlfriend, he is at odds with his dad, he reads books and does school work, he plays video games and mouths off to his teacher.
Marcus' father is a character who represents the "I'm not doing anything wrong so I don't see what the big deal is, let them check and monitor and catch the bad guys" side of the argument, and I'm glad that Doctorow wrote him this way. I'm also glad that this wasn't his position from the very beginning of the book, it showed that people can and will change their minds under certain circumstances. It also showed that such changes of heart are not seamless or painless.
Marcus' friends and acquaintances cover the remainder of the spectrum, from spirited support of his actions to adamant disapproval. There are also those who are spies out of necessity, recruited by the DHS to infiltrate the underground network. The tensions resulting from these interactions provided the difficulties that made the story more believable, after all life's not all black and white, the gray often dominates the playing field and that's just how it is.
Overall I loved this novel, but what made it a little less enjoyable for me is all the technical talk. Marcus often walks the reader through what the different bugs and gadgets are, how they work, how they can be deactivated or circumvented, and since I'm the kind of person who loves her gadgets but doesn't particularly itch to find out how the software and hardware work it went over my head on occasion. Besides, I figured it was all author's imagination steeped in today's technological reality. But then at the end of the book one of the afterwords is by a security technologist, whose job is basically to figure out how electronic systems can be broken and how to make them more secure, and the other is by a professional hacker. Imagine my surprise and general feeling of unease when these real-life guys started talking about how Doctorow's "inventions" either do exist or aren't that far-fetched. There is also a bibliography with an extensive list of eye-opening titles. I admit, after reading these sections I started to wonder whether I should move my family to a cash-only basis for daily transactions to protect us from the possibility of both big and little brother infiltration (let's face it, if the government has no interest in us there's probably a marcus hacking away within a 2-mile radius from our house). In the end laziness won over that sentiment, but the seed has been sown.
This is a very well-rounded novel that is fast-paced and written in a voice that is casual without being too adult or too adolescent. It poses interesting questions and explores a variety of standpoints that are just as relevant today as they were when the book was published, if not more so. I recommend it without reservation, especially if you are the kind of reader who loves their gadgets, wants to know how they work inside, and wants their privacy to remain their own, regardless of whether there's anything to hide besides grandma's secret pie recipe.

P.S. Those with ereaders, heads up: Doctorow makes the novel available on his website free of charge in a variety of formats under the Creative Common License. Yes, he is that cool.

Review: The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula Le Guin

Genli Ai is a lone human emissary to Winter, an alien world whose inhabitants can choose - and change - their gender. His goal is to facilitate Winter's inclusion in a growing intergalactic civilization, but to do so he must bridge the gulf between his own views and those of the completely dissimilar culture that he encounters.

I first read this book in 2011 and already then I knew that I would read it again. The timing of me re-reading it wasn't entirely my choice but in the end that didn't matter at all. Because I knew what was going to happen it was as if my brain was free to notice things I didn't notice 2 years ago - the poetry of the language, the beautifully crafted story, the meaning of the folklore and excerpts of historical records inserted between chapters, the echoes of the philosophy of ying and yang throughout the book, the notion of true gender equality and its consequences. I noticed how perfectly the ending of the novel mirrored its beginning, recognizing the similarities between a keystone being placed in an arch to connect the separate sides and Therem Estraven being a similar kind of keystone that would link two separate branches of humanity. I finally fully understood the title of the book, which made me feel that I understood nothing the first time around. I realized that this novel isn't really about Genli Ai, even though he is the narrator most of the time. It is about Estraven, his vision for Gethen, and about following a path which others can't even see.
Like many other science fiction novels this book isn't about the planet or the technology, but rather about people, human nature and everything that comes with it, such as patriotism, love, deceit, faith and Truth. Yes, it's a lot to talk about in a book that is not at all hefty, but that is where Le Guin's brilliance lies. She doesn't need 600 or more pages to ask questions, ponder answers, observe and make the reader think. Half of that does very well.
I'll keep this review short because what I really want to tell you is that this is an amazing book, that I'm buying it for my collection and that if you haven't read it yet you should, even if you're not a fan of science fiction.

Review: A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs

When a Civil War veteran John Carter finds himself on Mars, or as the locals call it Barsoom, he discovers that the dying planet and its harsh deserts are home to warring species, adventure at every turn, and Dejah Thoris, a princess who will steal his heart at first sight. But can they overcome the dangers and be together?

Back when I was first looking at Burrough's bibliography and feeling terribly intimidated by the sheer quantity of titles I couldn't make up my mind as to which book of his I should read to see if I liked his work. Fortunately my Coursera professor made the choice for me when he put A Princess of Mars on the Fantasy & Science Fiction syllabus. Thanks, Professor Rabkin!
I can see why Burroughs became so popular back in the day - the first novel he published had adventure, fantastical creatures, a valiant hero and a beautiful heroine, admirable values and a happy ending. It is also an easy and fast read, which makes for a perfect escapist novel. To top it all off Burroughs ended the book in such a way that made me want to find out what happened next, especially since there is obviously a mystery of John Carter's very existence, which reminds me of Wolverine, an immortal superhero with a severe case of amnesia. If his success is any indication his consecutive novels followed this winning formula and most likely improved upon it to keep the readers from getting bored.
I was definitely not bored with this book, what with the plot moving along nicely, Carter constantly getting himself into new trouble and his lady love keeping him on his toes. Even the generally one-dimensional characters didn't spoil the fun, it was much too interesting to observe Burroughs imbue his Martian characters with very earthly traits. And it was definitely interesting to see how our society has changed since Burroughs' time, particularly when it comes to the role of women. I'm sure that if this book was written now Dejah Thoris would not have been sitting there in all her voluptuous glory, waiting to be rescued, she would have been plotting her own escape. It was also interesting to see Burroughs' social commentary on capitalism and socialism with Dejah Thoris' passionate monologue condemning the Green Martians' "everything belongs to everybody" system, making his position that much more obvious.
While I won't rush out to the Project Gutenberg website to get my hands on more Barsoom novels in the near future I will definitely pick up the sequel should I want a few escapist hours in the company of familiar characters.

Review: The Martian Chronicles - Ray Bradbury

Bradbury's Mars is a place of hope, dreams and metaphor - of crystal pillars and fossil seas - where a fine dust settles on the great, empty cities of a silently destroyed civilization. It is here the invaders have come to despoil and commercialize, to grow and to learn - first a trickle, then a torrent, rushing from a world with no future toward a promise of tomorrow. The Earthman conquers Mars...and then is conquered by it, lulled by dangerous lies of comfort and familiarity, and enchanted by the lingering glamour of an ancient, mysterious native race.

This collection of short stories is considered to be one of the best examples of science fiction, yet Ray Bradbury himself says that it is not science fiction but fantasy. Pretty curious, isn't it? After some deliberation I decided that it is sci-fi after all - in this bibliophile's universe fantasy has magic and while Bradbury's Martians have some nifty abilities they do not have magic. Sorry, Mr. Bradbury, but that's how you wrote them.
The book is organized as a collection of separate episodes from several decades in the future when humans applied themselves to colonizing Mars, and an attentive reader will see clear parallels with the history of the North-American continent in these stories. In some cases they couldn't be any more obvious. Chicken pox, need I say more? Some characters make multiple appearances which contributes to the cohesiveness of the book, but mostly it's episodes from lives of people who've never met, which makes the account more well-rounded than it would've been with just one or two protagonists and their limited perspectives.
My impression of the book as a whole is not too enthusiastic, although several stories made a strong impression on me. One, There Will Come Soft Rains, doesn't have any characters at all and it reminded me of the 19th century literature where so much is inferred as opposed to being clearly stated. Others, such as Night Meeting and Ylla, are incredibly full of humanity despite the fact that Martians are the key players. And one, The Off Season, left me incredulous: I simply couldn't understand why the Martians would effectively give half the planet to the guy who would destroy their heritage given the right mood. I'm still wondering if they thought his greed would keep him on the planet when everybody else left.
Another reason I liked this book was because of terribly obvious things stated in a beautiful way, making the reader think about the obvious with a fresh mind. In almost every story there was a "couldn't have said it better" moment, all because of passage like this:

We Earth Men have a talent for ruining big, beautiful things. The only reason we didn't set up hot-dog stands in the midst of the Egyptian temple of Karnak is because it was out of the way and served no large commercial purpose.

This particular passage reflects a common theme for the collection and by the end of the book I had a deep sense of regret when it comes to the destructive nature of humanity because after all it is true, we'll ruin anything with no regard for its history and value beyond the obvious as long as it suits our profit-hungry nature. A sad state of affairs, really, especially if you consider that when all's said and done this book is about humanity, Mars is just an unreal enough place to tell the truth without riling up the masses.
I would have liked The Martian Chronicles a lot more if the stories weren't so obviously deliberately polished, which, strange as it is, is my only real complaint about the book. All the clever turns of phrase and the unexpected similes were great individually but when considered together made it impossible for me to lose myself in most of the stories: I was simply too busy noticing all the cleverness. Bradbury's works are highly esteemed in the field of science fiction and I would recommend this book, especially if the said friend is exploring sci-fi literature.

Review: The Island of Dr. Moreau by H.G. Wells

A shipwrecked gentleman named Edward Prendick, stranded on a Pacific island lorded over by the notorious Dr. Moreau, confronts dark secrets, strange creatures, and a reason to run for his life.

I've been curious about this novel for some time now but always managed to put off reading it, which seems to be how it goes with me and the classics: they've been around for a while, the shiny novelty has worn off and there are too many books everybody is talking about today for the classics to manage to get to the top of my reading list. Fortunately it was on the syllabus for the Fantasy & Science Fiction course I'm taking through Coursera so it climbed to the very top, along with some other tried and true novels of years past.
This book managed to surprise me and at the same time it had a comforting familiarity about it, so it was an interesting experience. I didn't actually know anything about the plot before reading the novel so the nature of Dr. Moreau's experiments caught me unawares, and although I suspected that something wonky was going on when Prendick started feeling uneasy about Morris' servant the extent of it was not something I expected from a 19th century novel. My modern imagination did however work out the details before Prendick, for whom even what we now know as plastic surgery was already an advanced and awesome thing.
The comfort came from the circumstances that cushioned the adventure itself: Prendick ends up on the island by accident and when he returns from it he is not entirely happy to be back at home. This is a notion that was present in Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels and if memory serves Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe, and is a curious one in and of itself. In a way it remains true to this day and I've experienced it myself: wherever we travel we feel that we are outsiders and yearn for the place that is home, yet when we get back there the adventures abroad have changed us and we are no longer truly at home in our homeland and miss the familiarity of the place that transformed us. The only way I think to avoid that would be to never go anywhere new, but where's the fun in that?
The thing I enjoy about old novels is that the authors tend to manage to create characters who are complex and simplistic at the same time. Take the protagonist himself for instance: he at first seems one-dimensional enough in his decency, but then you think back to his time stranded at sea and you wonder what really happened to his fellow shipwreck survivors, and then all of a sudden he doesn't seem so decent after all. Authors of that era seem to have been a lot more subtle than the modern ones when it came to developing their characters, and taking their usual brevity into consideration I have to admire their skill.
Reading this novel I kept thinking about Bulgakov's The Heart of a Dog, which explores the idea of similar surgical experiments. I haven't read that novel but Wells made me want to give it a try, although I understand that it is chock full of social criticism of the early post-Revolution era in the Soviet Union and that makes me want to read it less.
This was my second book by H.G. Wells and something tells me it won't be my last. I hear The Time Machine is quite good.

Review: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

When I first finished Frankenstein I was glad it was over, primarily because of Victor Frankenstein, the selfish brat that he is. I just couldn't stand how nothing was ever his fault or responsibility, how self-absorbed he was, how uncaring and unkind. I also felt sorry for the monster, who is a victim of circumstance if there ever was one. And then I thought about it some more, after all there has to be more to it than it simply being one of the first novels that are considered modern science fiction for it to have stood the test of time.
The first thing that popped into my mind was "Ok, I can see the moral lesson: don't be like that guy, he's awful". Then the layer of "faults of obsession" registered. Then the cliche "don't judge the book by its cover" surfaced, along with examples from the text and ruminations about what this kind of judging does to the book, as it were. Then the new thought came to mind that although Victor Frankenstein refers to his creature as the monster it is he who is truly monstrous. Not a new idea, but it was new to me. And so I found depth in the novel and looked past the fact that a creature who barely learned to speak was reading the works of prominent philosophers and had no trouble processing and applying it all, or that the scientist is an abhorrent creature. I appreciated the lesson of applying moderation to the pursuit of passions, as well as the lesson of not forgetting those who love you while chasing after a dream. I fully understood why it's still around after almost two centuries.
It's still too slow-paced for the modern reader and the heart-rending terror Mary Shelley was going for is not anywhere as effective as it might have been in the 1800s (I imagine too many episodes of Law & Order, CSI, Criminal Minds and local news broadcasts are to blame for that) but although I didn't love it I still recommend it as an excellent examination of certain sides of the human character and nature, as well as for the value of taking a closer look at the forerunner of an entire literary genre. Just don't expect a mute green creature with bolts sticking out if its neck, that's all Hollywood's doing.

Review: Dracula by Bram Stoker

The first time I read Dracula was in high school and I read it purely for entertainment. Back then it seemed ok, definitely entertaining but I remember thinking that I didn't know what all the fuss was about. Fast forward 15 years. I signed up for a fantasy and science fiction course on Coursera and Dracula was on the syllabus. I was curious to read it again and see how different my impressions would be.
I don't know whether it's because this time I was watching for more than a bloodsicking monster in order to successfully complete the course assignment or because I am generally more attentive in my reading these days, but this time around it seemed like I was reading a completely different book. It still didn't spook me (people in Stoker's time were much more impressionable) but I did understand why it's considered a classic and is so highly esteemed in the literary circles.
Stoker's theater experience informed him in the importance of voice in character development, which sometimes made it necessary to read out loud but at the same time gave the narrative flavor. Stoker got the regional and international accents to sound authentic and my husband and I still joke around using Van Helsing's reference to an episodic character as "loud and red of face but a good fellow all the same". Another fun Suspence was a vital part of the book and while some ends were never tied it made the generally familiar story seem fresh. I didn't always see the point of how many characters there were and that spoiled the experience a little bit - there are only so many people this reader can keep track of!
My favorite part of this novel was the incredible layering of social, psychological and economic issues. I would've never noticed this before so the discovery was that much sweeter. There were references to the early feminist movement rerred to as the New Woman, classes, position in society, insanity, a look into what it takes to deceive in broad daylight and how to make witnesses more forthcoming with information. I felt like I was peeking in at a real society while reading this novel, because while things like bribes and break-ins may not be a daily occurrence they are a part of life and I liked that Stoker included them in the book.
Reading the novel this time I noticed Mina's references to the New Woman, which made me curious about this movement. Having looked it up I saw that she was in a way an early feminist: she had a job and undertook additional training in disciplines not very common at that time, such as typing and stenography. She was very intelligent and enterprising, and she was the center of the "six degrees of Mina" group (which in this case is more like two than six). Her input was crucial and her health is an indicator of the group's progress. And yet she was traditional in a very old-fashioned way, which combined with the general attitude towards women as feeble-minded and neurotic to the point of ineffectiveness irked me. The more Van Helsing praised Mina's "man's brain" I wondered what the wide-spread opinion about "woman's brain" was at the time. I didn't get a sense that it was particularly complimentary. Without a doubt life for women in the 19th century left much to be desired.
If you haven't read Dracula yet, whether that's because you don't read vampire books or because you only read modern fiction, I highly recommend that you make an exception - this book isn't so much about vampires as it is about 19th century England and about human nature, which isn't subject to time.

Review: Alice in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll

When I first read about Alice's adventures in Wonderland I closed the book in complete bewilderment because I just didn't understand what made it so popular and gave it such staying power. There was no plot, the story was utter nonsense, the characters were beyond strange and to top it all off the whole thing was a dream. Needless to say I didn't pick up Through the Looking Glass.
Fast forward to last week when I was supposed to read both books for a course I'm taking on fantasy and science fiction. Upon first reviewing the syllabus I gave an inward groan, but when time came to read I had to bite the bullet. Alice in Wonderland was first up and it was still nonsense, there was still no plot and the characters were still strange, but now approaching it from an academic standpoint and knowing that the whole thing is a dream I was able to enjoy it much more. I noticed things such as clever play on words and tried to guess if the strange animals were symbolic of real-life people who real-life Alice would be able to recognize and would delight in, as children tend to do when they solve a riddle. I also kept noticing things that would appeal to adults and children on different levels and for different reasons, which reminded me of the Shrek cartoons. And so having had a decent experience with Alice in Wonderland I cheerfully moved on to Through the Looking Glass.
What a transformation the storytelling and the characters underwent between these two books! While in Wonderland, which is referred to as Nursery Alice, it was all about adventure and emotion, which younger children can understand and relate to easily, and in Through the Looking Glass there is an actual plot, things make sense so much more, and characters don't appear and disappear in completely random ways. These changes alone would've been a sufficient enough upgrade for me, but then I looked at the larger picture of cards vs. chess, read some of the poems out loud, googled a few things and decided that Surprise! this one I actually did enjoy. I even have a favorite rhyme:

"In spring, when woods are getting green
I'll try and tell you what I mean.
In summer, when the days are long,
Perhaps you'll understand the song.
In autumn, when the leaves are brown
Take pen and ink, and write it down."

Lewis Carroll really was a very clever man.
I think the next step would be to get my hands on the audio books and listen to them since having read them on the page I've become quite convinced that they were meant to be read aloud. They are children's stories after all.

P.S. If you are waiting for me to say something about how Disney has taken far too many liberties with Lewis Carroll's creation you'll be disappointed, for I enjoyed the Tim Burton's Alice quite a bit (although Anne Hathaway's jet-black eyebrows were incredibly distracting when compared with her general whiteness).