Much More Complicated Than That

 Yet again, I am proof that modern marketing works. After just the right amount of targeted adverts, I looked up 'The Ministry of Time' by Kaliane Bradley to find out what the fuss was all about.

Read and Return

'The Midnight Library' by Matt Haig 

At last!  A book you've heard of - and probably even read!  Although, if you've read it, why on Earth would you want to read a blog post about it?  Go away and read something else!  Actually, no, don't do that.  Stay here, and read some thoughts about Matt Haig's massive bestseller 'The Midnight Library'. 

Back to the Future

'The Time Machine' by HG Wells (Gollancz reprint, 2001)

So, as Old Father Time used his scythe to harvest 2018, I, rather appropriately, found myself reading the Science Fiction classic 'The Time Machine' by HG Wells.

In a middle class, Edwardian drawing room, a brilliant scientist and engineer demonstrates his latest invention; a Time Machine. His audience of intellectual friends include a Psychologist, a Provincial Mayor and a Doctor, who, despite what they see, remain unconvinced of his achievement.  Determined to prove his theories, the Time Traveller sets out on an adventure in time, intending to bring back future proof of humanity's advances from centuries to come.  But when he lands in 802,701, he's shocked by what he finds.  The docile Eloi and the crumbling structures they inhabit disappoint his ideals of curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge.  But disappointment turns to horror when he encounters a second branch of the Homo Sapien family tree - the sinister, darkness-dwelling Morlocks - and he begins to realise where the ills of his present could ultimately lead.  Is it too late for civilisation or has the Time Traveller arrived just in time to give these descendants a better future?

Lost in Space

Now, normally I wouldn't bother you with a post about a book I haven't finished.  I don't think it's fair to judge a book without reading it all the way through and I want this to be a positive project full of useful reviews and book-ish ideas.  But I think you deserve an explanation as to why I've given up on 'The Martian' by Andy Weir, a recent international bestseller.

'The Martian' is the story of NASA astronaut, engineer and botanist Mark Watney (MSc. etc).  Injured and unintentionally abandoned during an emergency evacuation from Mars, he's caught in a desperate struggle to stay alive.  He believes he knows when the next Ares mission landing is due, so he's working hard to source, create or ration every resource he needs.  The odds seem stacked against him, but he's intelligent, focussed and determined to stay alive.  But will the next expedition arrive on time?  Can he stay alive until then?  Will he make it back to Earth?

In all honesty, I don't really care.

I should have loved this book.  It's a fantastic idea that offers lots of opportunities not only for brilliantly tense narrative, but also the sort of practical application of science and mathematics that could get people interested in these subjects.  But I just couldn't connect with the narrator at all.  I got to page 40, a little bit into chapter five, his 38th day on Mars, but there had been no mention of the people he'd left behind on Earth.  I had absolutely no sense of the emotional ties that made him want to get back there, only that it was what he wanted to do.  The nearest he came was slagging off the music and entertainment tastes of his former colleagues.  Wouldn't it strike you as a bit strange for someone not to talk about the people they loved and hated if never seeing them again became a real possibility?  Yes, he's focussed on surviving, but such thoughts would be motivation for him, surely.  And he's not working ALL of the time.  He's on his own, so surely he'll get reflective and introspective?  There can't possibly be that many episodes of 'Three's Company' to drown out his inner monologue.

This was the biggest of a number of factors which made it difficult for me to suspend my disbelief and want to remain with this character.  He's a trained Mechanical Engineer and Botanist, qualified at least to post-graduate level.  Seriously?  Not only do I find it hard to believe that anyone could successfully combine study of these areas to such a high level, plus the exceptional physical fitness required for space travel, he talks like he's not left high school.  Not only does he swear a lot (understandable I suppose in his desperate situation), he uses words and phrases which would suit a teenage boy better than a highly qualified scientist. Not awesome.  Really not.

So, unfortunately, I was so disappointed by what I read of the book that I gave up on it.  Fortunately, I have one or two others to read first.  So hopefully this is just a blip and I'll have something much more interesting to tell you about soon.

Now, what next..?

More than Skin Deep

I've just finished 'The Illustrated Man' by Ray Bradbury, a collection of short pieces by the master story teller.

'The Illustrated Man' by
Ray Bradbury
(Harper Voyager, 2008)

When the unnamed narrator meets the Illustrated Man on a deserted Wisconsin road, he has no idea what secrets he has hidden beneath his thick shirt.  For the Illustrated Man's skin is tattooed with pictures that grow, move and tell stories of the future, cursing every moment of his life as they writhe beneath his skin.  Driven to despair and unable to hold down a job for more than a few days, the Illustrated Man keeps moving from place to place searching for a peace he will never find.  On this particular night, as he drifts off to sleep, the narrator becomes entranced as the tales of hope, beauty, horror and revenge come to life before him...

Mr Bradbury is most famous 'Fahrenheit 451', the novel about a dystopian future where books are banned and burned and a life lived through TV is the norm.  Similar themes of threat, dehumanisation and how we gain and loose from technological developments also run through 'The Illustrated Man'.

Sometimes technology turns on us and leads to disaster, as in 'The City' or 'Kaleidoscope', while 'The Rocket' is a story of how it inspires.  'Marionettes, inc' and 'Usher II', clearly related to 'Fahrenheit 451', show dashes of dark humour, while 'The Fox and the Forest' is a thriller that just happens to be about time travel.  'The Other Foot' explores racial hatred from a new perspective, while 'The Veldt' and 'Zero Hour' show a worrying distrust of children.

The best science fiction is always about humanity and this collection of stories is no exception.  It's probably a bit more niche than some of what I've read previously, as in there are stories actually set in space and on other planets, but overall this ensemble captured my imagination, without frightening me off with the 'sciency bit'.

I've never really understood why people dismiss science fiction.  Why write off a whole genre? A good story is a good story, whether it's set in the past, present, future or a space station somewhere to the left of Mars.  As is often the case, many of these stories can be filed under more than one category, which I think makes them easier to recommend to people who would normally baulk at the idea of reading science fiction.

Overall, if you're going to read science fiction short stories, Bradbury is where you start.  I also enjoy Asimov, but his stories are basically logic problems as he tries to find holes in the three laws of robotics.  But that's a review for another time!

Apocalypse Wow

Technically, I've lived through several expected apocalypses.  I survived both the fever caused by the Millennium Bug in 1999/2000 and the end of the Mayan calendar in December 2012. Oh, and that time that asteroid skimmed past the Earth a couple of years ago. I'm sure there have been many more 'false alarms', but I somehow find our obsession with the end of the world intriguing, particularly as in all likelihood we either won't see it coming or will ignore it's coming because we don't want to change our destructive ways.

Anyway, I've just finished reading 'The Year of the Flood' by Margaret Atwood, the second book in the 'Oryx and Crake' trilogy.  'Oryx and Crake' has the rare distinction of being one of only a handful of books which I've read within two days.  Aren't train journeys great?

'The Year of the Flood'
by Margaret Atwood
(2010, Virago)

'The Year of the Flood' runs parallel to 'Oryx and Crake'.  Both books cover the lead up to and immediate aftermath of a terrible pandemic that wipes out the majority of mankind, but told from two very different perspectives.  While 'Oryx and Crake' witnesses the end of days from the upper class, high security compounds of society's elite, 'The Year of the Flood' explores the poorer and criminal strata of the population in the hard and vicious pleeblands.  The pleebs are home to Toby and Ren, two women who have survived the plague and now tell their own, intertwined versions of events.  Toby is living alone on the roof of the AnooYoo spa, nurturing her rooftop garden and nervously watching the horizon for disease carrying humans, predatory wolvogs and inquisitive pigoons. Meanwhile, Ren is trapped in quarantine in Scales and Tails, a high class strip club, wondering just how long her food will last and if anyone will find her before it's too late.  Are they the last human beings alive? Will they find each other?

As you might've guessed from my recent tweets (@Girl_LovesBooks), I thoroughly enjoyed this book (if that's the right word for it!  The story is incredibly dark and violent in places. But the end of the world was never going to be cheerful.).  I loved 'Oryx and Crake' and Atwood's other famous apocalyptic novel, 'The Handmaid's Tale'.  Atwood is an absolute master when it comes to looking at modern trends and extrapolating plausible futures from them, making her stories different and captivating yet familiar and real.  On top of this, 'The Year of the Flood' is pacy and Ren and Toby flawed, fragile and human characters that you root for.  It's an irresistible combination that makes 'The Year of the Flood' a real page turner, even when you know what's coming.

I also absolutely love the way Atwood plays with language. As well as the AnooYoo spa, there are the genetically engineered animals including rakunks and Mo'Hairs, new technology like the Sea/H/Ear Candy ear phones and foodstuffs including Zizzy Fruits, ChickieNobs and Happicuppa.  This adds a playfulness to the story which makes it easier to handle its darker elements.

Overall, I enjoyed this book so much that I've moved straight onto the third in the trilogy, the recently published 'MaddAddam'.  It'll be an interesting test, especially after the bad experience I had recently trying to read the whole Cousins' War series by Philippa Gregory in a row. So we'll have to see.

The world has ended. So what now?

Killing Me Softly

I've just finished 'Never Let Me Go' by Kazuo Ishiguro, a book which has really got you talking on Twitter!

Set in an imaginary late 1990s Britain, 'Never Let Me Go' tells the story of three friends; the devious Ruth, child-like Tommy and contemplative Kathy, all former inmates of Hailsham, a boarding school with almost mythical status among their peers.  At the age of 32, Kathy has become a carer and reflects on the truths and lies which have had such a major impact on all their lives, many rooted, like their friendship, in their formative years at Hailsham under the guardianship of the authoritative Miss Emily and the conflicted Miss Lucy.

This book is a lot better than the previous paragraph makes it sound, but I daren't write more as I don't want to give anything away!

'Never Let Me Go' is the least science fiction-y science fiction book I've ever read.  I really didn't think it was science fiction until quite a way into the book, which just goes to show how daft labelling by genre really is.  There are two stories going on here - that of Kathy and her friends and that of the role they and others like them play in wider society.  The book's strength is its subtlety, in that it's not about a big technological idea, it's about the people who have to live with the consequences of it.  Ishiguro remains focussed and faithful to the human element throughout, so, despite a persistent sense that something isn't quite right, the science fiction is really only drip fed to the reader when it's necessary for the personal narrative.

By the end of the book, you realise that this is story is full of enough thought provoking allegory to keep any book group discussing it for many years.  Animal rights, what makes us human, innocence and childhood are just a few themes that spring to mind.  If this book isn't on the English Literature syllabus already, it really should be.

As soon as I got to the end of this book, I was ready to turn back to the first page and read it again.  Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it!) I do have one or two other ones to read first, but I'm sure I will return to 'Never Let Me Go' in the future.  In the meantime, this is a story that will live up to its name.

Now, what next...

The Audacity of Hope

I've just finished reading Walter Tevis' science fiction classic 'The Man Who Fell to Earth'.  It wasn't quite what I expected; in fact it was much, much better.

'The Man Who Fell to Earth' by Walter Tevis
(Penguin Modern Classics, 2009)

Thomas J. Newton is a man like no other on Earth.  Too tall, too pale and too fragile, onlookers soon notice something strange about the purposeful multi-millionaire, although thought of his wealth often silences their worries.  Appearing from nowhere with technological schematics representing a great, and unexpected, leap forward for mankind, Newton comes to the attention of inquisitive academic Nathan Bryce.  After much effort, Bryce begins working for Newton's organisation, contributing to a huge and complex building project the like of which the world has never seen. Although sated for a time, Bryce becomes more and more suspicious of his new employer and determines to discover his secret.  Unfortunately, he's not the only one interested in Newton and his motives.

I really enjoy this sort of science fiction.  Anyone who dismisses it as 'nerdy', 'geeky' or 'cult' is missing out on some wonderful explorations of society and what it means to be human.  Unlike with the big hitters such as 'The Handmaid's Tale' or 'Brave New World', I didn't know much about the story before I started reading it.  I thought it was a straight forward Earth invasion tale, so I was delighted to find it is so much more.  It's hard to believe it's not better known as a book as well as a film, but then again perhaps I've just led a bit of a sheltered life!

The key characters of Newton and Bryce are beautifully and sympathetically portrayed, easy to relate to and realistically believable (not something that goes hand-in-hand with the stereotype of science fiction!).  It's hard not to be drawn in by Newton and really feel for him as he begins to doubt himself, his mission and even his own people.  In fact, I think his is a story that anyone who has suffered from moments of self doubt will really relate to.

The themes of distance, alienation and hope are meticulously explored through this story and yet the only parts I found a bit hard going were the paragraphs which described scientific methods.  You'd think I could cope with that sort of thing, especially as it must've been quite simple technology, but I did feel at times that I needed a sort of idiot's guide so I could get my head around a few basic principles!  It's a long time since I did my GCSEs and, let's face it, technology has changed an awful lot since 1963!  Although not under alien influence, as far as I know..!

Overall, 'The Man Who Fell to Earth' is a fascinating novel about humanity which deserves a wider readership and a place on the school syllabus.

I must be having a good week because I'm also 80% of the way through another book, so hope to be back blogging for you again soon! 

There's Something at the Bottom of the Garden...

I'm never going into a garden again and if you think I'll look at any future eclipses or other astronomical events, you've got another thing coming!

As you might be able to guess, I've just finished John Wyndham's 'The Day of the Triffids', probably the best known of this British author's novels. 

'The Day of the Triffids' is a story of human survival in the midst of a terrifying worldwide apocalypse.  Bill Mason wakes in a London hospital, his eyes bandaged following eye treatment.  Confused and frightened by the lack of normal noise either in the hospital or outside his window, he cautiously removes the dressings and finds himself in the middle of a living nightmare.  A 'meteorite' storm the previous night has blinded most of the world's population and, as he travels through London in shock, Bill finds that life as he knew it has gone for good.  As he begins to encounter other survivors, he realises that the catastrophe has often brought out the worst in people.  As the remaining population begins to find ways to group and cope with the new circumstances, a new, terrible threat emerges - the determined, devious and deadly Triffids...

Now, first things first.  There was one part of this book that made me very, very irritated.  One group of intellectualised survivors band together at a London university.  One of the earliest things they do is call a meeting at which an eminent Sociologist talks about the future of society and how it will be necessary to leave elements of the old moral framework, behind for practical reasons.  Fair enough.  But why is sex their main priority when they haven't even found a safe way out of London yet?  London, which is already littered with suicides and brutal gangs and already a breeding ground for disease?  And when they only have one, shy nurse to provide pre- and postnatal care?!

I can only assume that when this book was written in the 1950s, talking about sanctioned sexual promiscuity was terribly, terribly shocking in a way it simply isn't today.  Then it would sort of make sense.  But to my modern (female) eyes, it just seemed like putting the cart before the horse.  No point in having babies if you can't feed them or keep them safe, even if you are trying to save mankind.

On the whole though, this book is a real page turner, a brilliant combination of horror, socio-political comment and old fashioned adventure.  It did get a bit preachy in places, particularly when an idealistic but impulsive character called Coker comes on the scene, but I think I understood most of the comparisons the author was drawing with different political ideologies.

I know I shouldn't be, but it still surprises me how relevant the science fiction of the last century still is.  'The Day of the Triffids' could be read as socio-political comment, environmental parable or analysis of how we might cope with extreme disaster.  As a result, it's incredibly interesting as well as entertaining.

And, of course, you have a fantastic villain: The Triffids.  Human beings may have had a hand in creating their predicament, but the constant and escalating onslaughts by the seven foot tall, alien-looking plants really is a danger all its own.  They're clever, they're everywhere and they're topped with lightening-quick stings which can kill a man several feet away.  As I say, Prince Charming can do the gardening from now on!

'The Day of the Triffids' begins with probably one of the most famous opening lines ever.  Striking the reader like a slap across the face from the start, the book doesn't let up at any point.  Before you know it, you've turned the last page... And you're wondering whether that rustling really is just the breeze through the trees.  Shudder!

No More Heroes...

I have just finished 'I am Legend' by Richard Matheson, a relatively short book often cited as a classic of Science Fiction and Horror and the first book to combine the two great genres.  I've not seen the Will Smith film, but may do having read the book.

'I am Legend' by
Richard Matheson
(Film Tie-In Edition,
2007, Gollancz)

'I am Legend' is the intense and claustrophobic story of Robert Neville, (quite possibly) the last man standing after a plague has swept through the human race and made vampires a nightly reality.  Trapped in his own world and left with nothing but memories and his survival instinct, the book tracks Neville's character over three years as he battles demons without and within.

Although this was a fantastically written book, capturing and developing the character of Robert Neville to great effect, I'm finding it hard to be passionate about it.  Then again, that may just be the nature of the genre.  After all, how many people want to recommend something they know may scare?  I don't really want to give people nightmares!  To be fair, though, this book isn't particularly gory, even for my relatively low horror threshold.

Speaking for myself, I found this book completely engrossing.  The first half presents a fascinating, close quarters analysis of how someone might react and behave in such extraordinary circumstances and highlights the author's incredible imagination.  In the second half, as Neville's mood moves from despair to acceptance, the pace of the novella changes and the plot starts moving towards its almost inevitable climax and conclusion.

Also - always the sign of a classic - the book doesn't feel at all dated, despite the fact that it's 57 years old.  I love it when that happens.  It's nice to know that when change comes, it doesn't automatically make everything that came before irrelevant and obsolete.  It's horrible to think that the meaning of things we care about today may be completely lost to future generations, just as the significance of cave paintings or carved deities can only be guessed at by even the most eminent of modern academics.

Hmm, I'm clearly in a very philosophical mood today!

Anyway, back to the book.  I would recommend it if you like these sorts of apocalyptic tales, but I don't think there's enough of a meal here for even the most sharp-toothed literary analyst.  Then again, I doubt it was ever meant to be high culture, so, if you can, enjoy it for what it is.  An engaging twentieth century classic.

Don't Dys My Topia...

What a week!  I finished 'Brave New World' by Aldous Huxley last weekend, but this is the first chance that I've had to post about it.  I have found time to start another book though, so hopefully, despite everything, the wheels won't fall off my project and I'll keep the same pace.  Although I've only been going a month, I'm actually quite pleased with how things are progressing.  Just hope you're still finding my project interesting!

'Brave New World' by
Aldous Huxley (Flamingo
Modern Classics, 1994)

'Brave New World' introduces a vision of the future based on universal 'happiness', then proceeds to dissect it's pros and cons through the eyes of a number of key characters.  It is the year 632 After Ford and the modern world is using a combination of Henry Ford's production line techniques, Sigmund Freud's psychology and complex genetics to purpose-breed humans for specific life roles.  From the Alpha Plus humans (the Rolls Royces of genetic engineering) to the drone-like Epsilon Minus population (more like everyday, robust Fords), everyone's loves and hates are pre-programmed so that they are not only designed for specific jobs, but to be happy in them.  While the cloned lower castes contentedly undertake dull, repetitive jobs in the factories, the higher classes run the major state facilities, such as the Central London Hatchery and Conditioning Centre.  It is here that we learn of the how modern humans are decanted rather than born, programmed rather than educated and drugged rather than doubtful.  Starting at the Hatchery, we meet the characters who will face crisis after discovering that there is more to life than the children of Our Ford have to offer.

I liked this book immensely, even though it was a bit of a challenge.  It's brilliantly written, but it's definitely fuel for the brain.  It's thought provoking from beginning to end and almost timeless in its ideas.  Most would class it as Science Fiction,but I think it's much more than that.  To me, it's about the philosophy of science and ethics and the points where ideas about what's best for people and society clash.  In fact, it's more like an essay or a discussion than a book and that's what makes it interesting.  'Brave New World' creates a picture of a flawed society where at least the majority of people are happy, then asks whether the sacrifice of art, literature, religion and love make it worth it.  Although it's often spoken about in the same breath as George Orwell's 'Nineteen Eighty-Four', it's far less black and white and challenges you to consider what's worth sacrificing for a generally happier world.

I've decided it's time for something a bit more light hearted next, so let's hope I'll race through it and be back to blog soon!

Here Comes the Son...

I love a bit of Science Fiction.  It's brave, it's clever and it's often quite bonkers.  What's not to like?!

'Behold the Man' by Michael
Moorcock (published by
Gollancz, 1999)

Earlier this week, I finished reading the 124-page novella 'Behold the Man' by Michael Moorcock.  This is the story of Karl Glogauer, directionless, neurotic and and an unlikely stand in for Jesus Christ.  But, after a traumatic trip into the past, that's just what he ends up being.

On the face of it, I rather liked this story.  It's about myth and myth making, how the mundane can become the magical and, above all, how belief in something better or higher than ourselves could be something we need as human beings.  In particular, it examines the conflict between Atheism and the need to believe on a personal level.  These are issues which are as pertinent today as they were in the 1960s, perhaps more so as Atheism goes from strength to strength, apparently ignoring why people feel the need to believe in the first place.

The book did annoy me a bit though and not through any fault of the author.  The blurb on the back pretty much told you the whole plot, which was a shame because it may have been easier to relate to Karl as a character if we shared his journey with him.  It made me feel a bit like I was waiting for Karl to catch up with me rather than taking in the story properly, so I think I will be re-reading it just to make sure I've not missed anything.

That said, a word of warning - there's a lot of sex in this book considering its size!  It's a shortcut to tell you about Karl's moral framework and highlight how confused he is (we see him as obsessive teenager, feckless lover, wandering lothario and indifferent bisexual), but it's not everyone's cup of tea.  It was probably incredibly shocking when the book was first published in 1969, but times have changed and most of us can tell the difference between what's there to shock and what's there to make a point.

On the whole, 'Behold the Man' is an engaging curiosity which will probably remain a relevant read for a while to come.

Now, what next..!