My latest literary conquest was Terry Pratchett’s Guards! Guards! (I’m on Pratchett roll, here). I have to say (as with most of his books), that it was very well done. The Patrician – ruler of Ankh-Morpork – came across very favorably and (along with the Librarian) is now one of my favorite characters. This book (to me, at least) introduced me to the concept of L-Space (Libraries bend the laws of physics, you know), as well as provided me with many memorable quotes. The four characters of the Night’s Watch worked very well together; alcoholic-turned-hero(esque) Samuel Vimes, the cowardly, fat Sergeant Colon, the ugly, dimwitted Nobby, and the literal-minded man-raised-by-Dwarfs Carrot Ironfoundersson. I also now have an extreme love of Swamp Dragons. Next on my list: Pratchett’s The Wee Free Men. I’ve started it and have been pleasantly surprised so far!

I just finished Terry Pratchett’s Reaper Man. I loved it. I was slightly iffy about the living cities and the parasites at first, but loved the idea in the end. The book was not only highly amusing and made me laugh a lot, but also very engaging and made me think philsophically. Mostly about metaphors, which came to life frequently. The living swears amused me to no end, and Death did too, as he always does. The best part, however, was the Death of Rats – by far the best character on the Disk. Seeing him appear made my day. Definitely one of my favorite books so far. Next on the list: Guards! Guards!

As part of a deal I made with my brother, I read the book Genghis: Birth of an Empire by Conn Iggulden. The deal was that I would read a book of historical fiction (a genre I’ve never been fond of, despite my love of history), while he would read a book of science fiction of my choosing. I read Genghis, and he read (or is reading) Hyperion by Dan Simmons; one of my favorite books. I finished my book recently, and I will concede that it was very well written, with good characters, research, and plot. It was a very good book, in short, and I did enjoy reading it. However, I will not be picking up the next one, because historical fiction – and this book by extension – tends to lack an interesting world. The world historical fiction is set in is our own, and so to me the genre has always lacked something that I feel is important in fiction: world creation. This is not to say that writers don’t go far out of their way to make the world come alive, and I do applaud historical fiction writers, as a lot of work goes into it. It’s just that as a reader, I am aware that I am looking at reality in the past, and so it takes away from the sense of creativity I enjy seeing in the worlds one creates for their books. As a roleplayer, I see background and the universe and setting of a book to be hugely important – indeed, a creative setting is the most important thing to me in a book – and I cannot usually credit the author of historical fiction for designing the world. I look for settings in my books, and historical fiction offers primarily characters (which are important, but come second to me).

The other thing about historical fiction that I don’t like is that it doesn’t offer any hope. I read in order to escape reality. Historical fiction slams me right back in, and offers me no real escape; I am reading about what has happened in my own world. This is why I prefer fantasy and science fiction, and especially the latter; I am taken away from reality, and in most cases of science fiction, am shown that humanity will continue to live on for many more centuries. It allows me to escape. Horror does the same thing, and also allows me (usually) to blame humanity’s problems on some supernatural foe, again taking the focus off of reality.

As of last night, I finished Terry Pratchett’s Mort. I liked it, of course (it’s Pratchett, after all),  but it definitely wasn’t my favorites. It was a lot darker than most of the other ones, and while a lot of the background information in it was interesting (particularly with regards to Albert and the ponderings on Fate and the course of History), it wasn’t as light-hearted or entertaining as a lot of the other ones. Death was, as always, fabulous, but Mort just infuriated me. I ran into the same problem when I read Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy: I loved a lot of the plot and other characters, but couldn’t stand the central character because he was just too much of an idiot. Hopefully Reaper Man will be more satisfying; I look forward to it!

P.S. Rincewind’s cameo made me happy.

I just finished reading Terry Pratchett’s Sourcery, and I was very pleased by it. It was full of interesting ideas, examined the background of the Disc even more, and completely turned everything on its head – as Pratchett is wont to do. It also had its heartbreaking moments, but mostly it just had me laughing almost constantly. Pratchett’s dry wit and deadpan delivery of both ridiculous and true statements just had me laughing more than any other book of his that I had ever read. Upon some reflection, I believe that his brilliance in writing results from his haphazard treatment of standard plot elements, and his ability to describe inanimate objects as people with distinctive personalities exceedingly well. I also now, after reading this book, have a greater appreciation of the Librarian.

The ending, of course, was sad, what with Rincewind not coming back, but I have every confidence that he will in future books. On that note, this book also saw the greatest growth in Rincewind’s character I’ve seen yet – he acted unselfishly for a few moments! It was spectacular! Nevertheless, Rincewind is now one of my favorite literary characters. I would recommend this book to any Pratchett fans.

Just finished reading Bujold’s latest Vorkosigan book, CryoBurn. It was, up until the very end, fantastic. The (science fiction) book would make little sense to one who had not read all of the other Vorkosigan books (inside-jokes and references to past events abound), but had a very interesting look at the idea of death.

The premise is that the ever-so-amazing Lord Imperial Auditor Miles Naismith Vorkosigan of Barrayar is sent by Emperor Gregor Vorbarra (of Barrayar) to investigate the dealing of a corporation seeking to spread off of its home planet of Kibou-daini to Komarr, the Barrayaran Empire’s second planet. The company specializes in freezing dead (and nearly dead) bodies to revive them at a later death – in a strange attempt to cheat death. The entire planet is based around these companies, which almost rule the place, and makes for some very interesting thoughts with regards to the rights of the “dead” and frozen, who could again come to life. How much say should they have in what goes on around them? Who has the responsibility for them?

Many more questions also assert themselves, but I highly recommend reading the book; it was well-written, well thought out, and even through in most of (but not all) of the major characters of previous ones! The Dendarii mostly were not mentioned (Taura was mentioned for half a page or so, and Quinn once – as well as Dubauer), and Simon Illyan and the ImpSec crowd also were passed over for the most part. I eagerly look forward to the possibility of another one, yet after the ending also am saddened. The book had a very surprising, unexpected, and yet entire fitting ending – it was well done, but be prepared for a depressing shock at the end of it.

A line from Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky,” from Through the Looking Glass, and the title also of a short story by “Lewis Padgett” (pseudonym of Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore). A short story that I recently just finished reading here. The first thing that became apparent upon reading it was that it was likely typed by someone with inadequate editing skills, for there were several spelling errors and random symbols (such as “[“) present, as well as an improper understanding of some punctuation and quotation rules. But perhaps the authors themselves were guilty of this sin, though I doubt it – I have read other Kuttner, at least, and he did not do this.

But regardless, it was a very enjoyable read. One of the first thematic things that peopped out at me was the apparent submissiveness of the mother-figure – Jane – with regards to her husband or Dr. Holloway. Additionally, the husband is frequently referred to by his last name, while his wife is not – another interesting aspect of a patriarchal society. Considering this was written a fair while ago, this is not unusual – the fact that I noticed this gender disparity first off perhaps is more of a testament to the state of my own psychology than to the authors’ intentions.

In terms of the actual story, it was a well-conceived science fiction short story; a (presumably) post-human from the far future as an idle experiment sends some of his son’s former toys back in time to Earth (in two boxes), then leaves the experiment when they do not return to him. The toys, however, find their way into the hands of earth children – one to an acquaintance of Lewis Carroll, who utters the opening stanza of “Jabberwocky” as a result of these toys (which allows the other children to transcend when Carroll puts it verbatim into his poem), and the other box ends up with Scott and Emma, the children of Jane and Dennis Paradine. The toys are highly instructive in a non-normative way of thinking (that Holloway deems “X”), and the tale ends with the children mastering concepts completely alien and superior to normative thought, and presumably transcend to a place better suited to their lines of thought (Carroll’s associate mentions that her stanza is the “key” to “escaping”).

The tale also includes some elements of horror in that the childrens’ thought processes are completely alien to us – and as exemplified by the parents and the child psychologist Dr. Holloway – what is alien to us we fear. The fear the parents had for their children is ultimately realized when the children “escape” and vanish forever. The focus on the difference between child and adult psychology is central to the tale, and examines it in a fascinating way – as adults are set into their paths, only children could master these toys that taught people to think in different ways. And in the end, all that they were were toys. The idea also of the younger child – Emma – being able to master new concepts  (such as “X” thinking) far more quickly than Scott was also interesting, and made for some interesting – if unsettling – circumstances.

I won’t say more – but the story is well worth reading!

So I just finished Terry Pratchett’s Equal Rites, and was both impressed and disappointed – a strange combination. In the end, upon careful consideration, I liked it more than I did The Colour of Magic, but less so than The Light Fantastic, Hogfather, and of course The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents. The title, of course, was very clever – I approved. So was the premise of the book – comparing witchcraft against wizardry as way of examining the masculine versus the feminine.

Of course, partly in a reflection of our own society, the two views were always opposing each other, and the men dominated – wizardry was more respected, and the wizards at Unseen University looked down upon witches. The manifestation of wizardry was also more “intellectual” (which has for longer been accessible to males due to restrictions on female admittance into universities), whereas witchcraft was more “practical” – calling to mind the image of a midwife.

Wizardry also was much more about manifesting power and calling things into being – which could be viewed as possibly seeing the creator as male, which is a traditional view held by many about our own possible creator – than witchcraft, which was primarily focused on working with what was already there. In other words, the men make things and the women use them; the men go out and accomplish things that women can use later for themselves.

Yet at the same time, wizards were less willing to help others, and mocked others with less ability – take Treatle’s admitting Esk into the University for (what seemed to me to be) the purpose of being laughed at by the other wizards – it doesn’t seem like the most kind thing to do. Witches made their living helping others.

Yet, both sides also displayed ignorance of the other and abhorred the other – wizards hated witchcraft, and witches (exemplified by Granny Weatherwax) hate wizardry. Wizards use too much math, and witches are useless – or so it is said.

The most striking thing to me – and the major reason I was disappointed in the end – was that Pratchett didn’t portray wizardry and witchcraft as equal. He held a philosophy of the two as separate and different ways of magic – by proxy extending this into the male and female as well. This is fine in and of itself, but if he was trying to be “separate but equal” (which we all know doesn’t work), then he failed. The wizards’ magic was portrayed as being more powerful; I was shocked and disappointed when Granny began teaching Esk how to use witchcraft, and most of what she taught her was not actually magic, but in fact was herbology and faking it (“headology”). To me, this just seemed to enforce the gender power disparity here – and then we of course have the fact that the story is the woman trying to break into the man’s world – but cast in such a light as to make it seem as if the man’s world (wizardry) was more desirable – and in fact, it seems to be. It may be covered up by the use of destiny and fate, but the fact that Granny and Esk eventually decided she should focus on wizardry rather than witchcraft to me just indicates that the gender relations are being reinforced.

The only indications of there being less gender disparity is the power dynamics between Arch-chancellor Cutangle and Granny Weatherwax – Cutangle is foppish and cowardly (reminds me of Rincewind in many ways), whereas Granny is forceful and active – and the duel between the pair of them, where it is hinted at that Granny is more powerful magically than Cutangle.

But in the end, the traits they exemplify reinforce their gender disparities – the realm of philosophical thought is dominated by Cutangle, and the realm of reason and practicality is dominated by Granny – the men do the creating and the women the working. Sound familiar?

Of course, in the end, this is just a fantasy book and maybe I’m overthinking it – besides, as it is a medievalesque fantasy novel, the gender differences should probably exist. What I object to is the portrayal of this difference more than anything. There are also other things he pokes fun at – sexuality (in the innuendos made above Esk’s head) and the stereotypes of witches and wizards, but in the end, as indicated by the title, it all comes down to gender (also interesting to note that the witches trademark is a broom – a useful tool for housework – while the wizard’s is a staff – useful for travelling and expanding one’s knowledge through experience. Also interesting that the idea of witch and wizard hats is similar).

On a parting note, I am finding the magic of Discworld inconsistent – it seems to have worked differently in each of the books I’ve read. In The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic, wizard magic seems much harder to cast than in the other books – but perhaps this will become clear.

Next on my list of things to read, in this order:

–The Book of Thoth (Aleister Crowley)

–Cryoburn (Lois McMaster Bujold)

–Sourcery (Terry Pratchett)

–Mort (Terry Pratchett)

–Reaper Man (Terry Pratchett)

-Some H. P. Lovecraft short stories I haven’t read interspersed in there too.

Ta-ta for now!