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wilderthanHuge apologies if everything just appeared on your LJ flists at once. DW wasn't crossposting for some reason. Returning to normal activity now, fear not!
Morte Arthure and Le Morte Arthur (trans. Brian Stone)
Thank you,sweet_sparrow, for sending me this, oh so long ago!
Morte Arthure -- The translation of this alliterative poem seems okay. It tries to keep the alliterative nature of the original poem, which works in some places and feels overwrought in others. The introduction to the poem is pretty good, anyway, and helpful in understanding it.
The story of the poem focuses for the most part on Arthur's battles with Rome, when they demand tribute for him, but it contains several other episodes, including Arthur's battle with the giant of Mont St Michel (not handed off to another knight, as that kind of episode often is in Arthurian literature, but undertaken by Arthur alone) and the fight against the treacherous Mordred. At this point, you can almost still relate to Mordred, treacherous and cowardly as he is -- or I can, anyway, perhaps influenced by his sincere lament for the fallen Gawain.
The fall of Gawain, and Arthur's reaction, remind me a lot of The Song of Roland, re: Roland's death and Charlemagne's reaction.
Le Morte Arthur -- The translation of the stanzaic poem is actually better than that of the alliterative poem, I think. I found it easier to read. Something about it keeps it lively, even though the subject matter is largely tragic. Again, the introduction is pretty good and explains what's going on pretty well.
The alliterative poem doesn't deal much with Lancelot, but this poem is based on a French version which focuses on Lancelot and Guinevere's adultery. Arthur is much less important here, and instead it's his knights and his wife that hold centre stage: Lancelot, Gawain, Guinevere. Although Mordred and Arthur are important too, they're not what lives for me in the narrative.
I do love Sir Gawain: his portrayal in this version is one I can get behind.
We (Yevgeny Zamyatin)
It's easy to see how important We is in terms of dystopic fiction. I'm glad I got round to reading it, even if I didn't love it and found it hard to follow. Something about the writing style -- something I've encountered in most Russian fiction I've read, I think, but something that's particularly strong in this -- made it hard to read.
Character-wise, there's not much to hold onto, which is a side-effect, of course, of the fact that it portrays a society in which the individual is not important, is only a number, the tiniest fraction of a single entity. Still, given that the central characters are breaking free of this, for most of the novel, I wish there'd been more to them, more to hold onto and remember. There are some passages that stick in the mind, but it's characters I tend to find truly memorable.
Firebirds Rising (ed. Sharyn November)
Firebirds Rising is an anthology full of fantasy and SF stories, mostly for a young adult audience. They're all by different authors, so naturally, some are hits and some are misses. I encountered quite a few new authors here, though I'm not really eager to follow up most of them.
The first story, 'Huntress', is by Tamora Pierce. It wasn't really an encouraging start, for me. The mythological references could be interesting, but the whole idea of the story is that a goddess comes along and punishes some teenagers who were killing people by... killing them. This could've been well-played, with a bit more expansion -- a bit more attention to detail, like discussion of the kind of goddess she is. That goddesses can be both kind and cruel isn't a new idea, either, and there was a bit of it in there, but there was very little judgement of the eye-for-an-eye mentality, and Pierce's author's note suggested her complete acceptance of it.
'Unwrapping', by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, has some nice imagery and such, but doesn't really go deep.
'The Real Thing', by Alison Goodman, is more SFish than the first two. Very much from an already established world, but I caught on quickly enough, and rather enjoyed it. I'd like to read more by her. I liked the positive approach to sexuality, too -- something about it sat right with me.
Charles de Lint's story, 'Little (Grrl) Lost', kind of annoyed me. It was basically The Borrowers, only modernised. And not as charming.
Diana Wynne Jones' story, 'I'll Give You My Word', was quite fun, and funny. Perhaps a little predictable, for her, but cute. And I learnt some new words!
I liked 'In The House of the Seven Librarians', by Ellen Klages. Probably because I love the idea of being raised in a library. There isn't much more to it than that, I suppose, but I still liked it.
Sharon Shinn's 'Wintermoon Wish' is quite interesting because it deals with a fantasy equivalent of Christmas. Maybe it's mostly fandom where this kind of thing tends to go wrong, but writers who remember that Christmas isn't universal are awesome. I didn't like the characters much, though.
'The Wizards of Perfil', by Kelly Link, reminded me of something else. Maybe Ursula Le Guin, but I had that feeling a couple of times with this anthology. Anyway, it's quite enjoyable, but the characters are not terribly lovable at first, if at all.
'Jack O'Lantern', by Patricia A. McKillip, was kind of interesting, but I wished it'd worked more on the sense of the uncanny. It wasn't memorable.
Carol Emshwiller's 'Quill' was a bit different; something about the narrative threw me, and the ending was unsatisfying.
Francesca Lia Block's 'Blood Roses' just struck me as mostly pointless. Stories transcribed straight from dreams do not tend to thrill me. What seems deep and meaningful in a dream isn't always when you wake up.
Kara Dalkey's 'Hives' is kind of interesting, but at the same time it's nothing new. The old themes of Techonology! Is! Scary! and teenage girls are mean.
Alan Dean Foster's 'Perception' is fun mostly because of the flip at the end. Haaa.
'The House on the Planet' by Tanith Lee could maybe have been tighter -- something about it was off. The three threads seemed superficially, not deeply, linked. I did like it, though.
I liked Pamela Dean's 'Cousins' quite a lot -- again, it reminded me of Ursula Le Guin's writing, somehow. I liked the culture there, woven into the story.
'What Used To Be Good Still Is', by Emma Bull, is really enjoyable. I like the central idea, and the narrator was kind of perfect for it -- I didn't like him as much as I liked the central character, but he wasn't awful, either, and he was just the right level of understanding/not understanding.
As a whole, I enjoyed the anthology: I should read more anthologies, because I like the way they collect together lots of authors. I suppose I treat them a little bit like tester pots.
Singing the Dogstar Blues (Alison Goodman)
I first came across Alison Goodman in the Firebirds Rising anthology, which included a short story by her set in the world of this novel. So, when I wanted some books to cheer me up, this is one of the ones I ordered -- and when I wanted something lighter once it got to god knows what AM during the readathon, this is what I picked up. It was exactly what I wanted: light but still absorbing, a nice change of pace.
I enjoyed the characters and the world, which was lightly futuristic without being hard SF -- not hard to process and get used to at all. I liked the fact that a lesbian relationship was included so matter of factly. I was similarly happy about the positive, no-big-deal approach to sexuality in Goodman's short story, so that fills me with hope.
I called the plot halfway through, even at seven AM, so I wouldn't say it's all that surprising or original. But it caught me at a good time, and was exactly the kind of thing I wanted to read, and so for that I feel very affectionate towards it.
The Earth Hums in B Flat (Mari Strachan)
I don't know what I expected from this book. It's somewhat marketed as a mystery, I suppose, but that's a little misleading. The central character, Gwenni, isn't a precocious little child detective, a mini Sherlock Holmes. She's a slightly odd child, with a lot of imagination and a funny way of putting things, and about the complications in her life that begin with the disappearance of one of her neighbours.
She doesn't actually find his body, or track down and confront his murderer, although she does figure things out. The story is much more about the emotional journey. It's not a particularly light or fun one -- it's a hurting one, with a lot of pain and complex themes about mental illness. I found it a rather quiet story, oddly everyday, for all that there are horrible things happening.
One thing that bothered me was that the characters didn't feel the right age. It was part of Gwenni's oddness, I suppose, but she felt rather younger to me than she was supposed to be. I got used to it, but it definitely threw me off at first.
I loved how Welsh it all felt, at any rate. 'Tada' and 'Mam' and 'Nain' and 'Taid', and the turn of phrase, and... from the very first page, I recognised my own Welsh family in some of the characters and speech patterns.
I rarely offer advice about children reading books, since I was allowed a free hand with my parents books and in the library from the age of eight, and don't believe it did me any harm -- still, it's not a comfortably, cosy book, and I don't recommend it for young/immature teenagers. If I were to give this to a young person, I'd be at the ready to discuss it with them, I think, due to the domestic violence and mental illness that's very much at the heart of the story.
Morte Arthure and Le Morte Arthur (trans. Brian Stone)
Thank you,
sweet_sparrow, for sending me this, oh so long ago!Morte Arthure -- The translation of this alliterative poem seems okay. It tries to keep the alliterative nature of the original poem, which works in some places and feels overwrought in others. The introduction to the poem is pretty good, anyway, and helpful in understanding it.
The story of the poem focuses for the most part on Arthur's battles with Rome, when they demand tribute for him, but it contains several other episodes, including Arthur's battle with the giant of Mont St Michel (not handed off to another knight, as that kind of episode often is in Arthurian literature, but undertaken by Arthur alone) and the fight against the treacherous Mordred. At this point, you can almost still relate to Mordred, treacherous and cowardly as he is -- or I can, anyway, perhaps influenced by his sincere lament for the fallen Gawain.
The fall of Gawain, and Arthur's reaction, remind me a lot of The Song of Roland, re: Roland's death and Charlemagne's reaction.
Le Morte Arthur -- The translation of the stanzaic poem is actually better than that of the alliterative poem, I think. I found it easier to read. Something about it keeps it lively, even though the subject matter is largely tragic. Again, the introduction is pretty good and explains what's going on pretty well.
The alliterative poem doesn't deal much with Lancelot, but this poem is based on a French version which focuses on Lancelot and Guinevere's adultery. Arthur is much less important here, and instead it's his knights and his wife that hold centre stage: Lancelot, Gawain, Guinevere. Although Mordred and Arthur are important too, they're not what lives for me in the narrative.
I do love Sir Gawain: his portrayal in this version is one I can get behind.
We (Yevgeny Zamyatin)
It's easy to see how important We is in terms of dystopic fiction. I'm glad I got round to reading it, even if I didn't love it and found it hard to follow. Something about the writing style -- something I've encountered in most Russian fiction I've read, I think, but something that's particularly strong in this -- made it hard to read.
Character-wise, there's not much to hold onto, which is a side-effect, of course, of the fact that it portrays a society in which the individual is not important, is only a number, the tiniest fraction of a single entity. Still, given that the central characters are breaking free of this, for most of the novel, I wish there'd been more to them, more to hold onto and remember. There are some passages that stick in the mind, but it's characters I tend to find truly memorable.
Firebirds Rising (ed. Sharyn November)
Firebirds Rising is an anthology full of fantasy and SF stories, mostly for a young adult audience. They're all by different authors, so naturally, some are hits and some are misses. I encountered quite a few new authors here, though I'm not really eager to follow up most of them.
The first story, 'Huntress', is by Tamora Pierce. It wasn't really an encouraging start, for me. The mythological references could be interesting, but the whole idea of the story is that a goddess comes along and punishes some teenagers who were killing people by... killing them. This could've been well-played, with a bit more expansion -- a bit more attention to detail, like discussion of the kind of goddess she is. That goddesses can be both kind and cruel isn't a new idea, either, and there was a bit of it in there, but there was very little judgement of the eye-for-an-eye mentality, and Pierce's author's note suggested her complete acceptance of it.
'Unwrapping', by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, has some nice imagery and such, but doesn't really go deep.
'The Real Thing', by Alison Goodman, is more SFish than the first two. Very much from an already established world, but I caught on quickly enough, and rather enjoyed it. I'd like to read more by her. I liked the positive approach to sexuality, too -- something about it sat right with me.
Charles de Lint's story, 'Little (Grrl) Lost', kind of annoyed me. It was basically The Borrowers, only modernised. And not as charming.
Diana Wynne Jones' story, 'I'll Give You My Word', was quite fun, and funny. Perhaps a little predictable, for her, but cute. And I learnt some new words!
I liked 'In The House of the Seven Librarians', by Ellen Klages. Probably because I love the idea of being raised in a library. There isn't much more to it than that, I suppose, but I still liked it.
Sharon Shinn's 'Wintermoon Wish' is quite interesting because it deals with a fantasy equivalent of Christmas. Maybe it's mostly fandom where this kind of thing tends to go wrong, but writers who remember that Christmas isn't universal are awesome. I didn't like the characters much, though.
'The Wizards of Perfil', by Kelly Link, reminded me of something else. Maybe Ursula Le Guin, but I had that feeling a couple of times with this anthology. Anyway, it's quite enjoyable, but the characters are not terribly lovable at first, if at all.
'Jack O'Lantern', by Patricia A. McKillip, was kind of interesting, but I wished it'd worked more on the sense of the uncanny. It wasn't memorable.
Carol Emshwiller's 'Quill' was a bit different; something about the narrative threw me, and the ending was unsatisfying.
Francesca Lia Block's 'Blood Roses' just struck me as mostly pointless. Stories transcribed straight from dreams do not tend to thrill me. What seems deep and meaningful in a dream isn't always when you wake up.
Kara Dalkey's 'Hives' is kind of interesting, but at the same time it's nothing new. The old themes of Techonology! Is! Scary! and teenage girls are mean.
Alan Dean Foster's 'Perception' is fun mostly because of the flip at the end. Haaa.
'The House on the Planet' by Tanith Lee could maybe have been tighter -- something about it was off. The three threads seemed superficially, not deeply, linked. I did like it, though.
I liked Pamela Dean's 'Cousins' quite a lot -- again, it reminded me of Ursula Le Guin's writing, somehow. I liked the culture there, woven into the story.
'What Used To Be Good Still Is', by Emma Bull, is really enjoyable. I like the central idea, and the narrator was kind of perfect for it -- I didn't like him as much as I liked the central character, but he wasn't awful, either, and he was just the right level of understanding/not understanding.
As a whole, I enjoyed the anthology: I should read more anthologies, because I like the way they collect together lots of authors. I suppose I treat them a little bit like tester pots.
Singing the Dogstar Blues (Alison Goodman)
I first came across Alison Goodman in the Firebirds Rising anthology, which included a short story by her set in the world of this novel. So, when I wanted some books to cheer me up, this is one of the ones I ordered -- and when I wanted something lighter once it got to god knows what AM during the readathon, this is what I picked up. It was exactly what I wanted: light but still absorbing, a nice change of pace.
I enjoyed the characters and the world, which was lightly futuristic without being hard SF -- not hard to process and get used to at all. I liked the fact that a lesbian relationship was included so matter of factly. I was similarly happy about the positive, no-big-deal approach to sexuality in Goodman's short story, so that fills me with hope.
I called the plot halfway through, even at seven AM, so I wouldn't say it's all that surprising or original. But it caught me at a good time, and was exactly the kind of thing I wanted to read, and so for that I feel very affectionate towards it.
The Earth Hums in B Flat (Mari Strachan)
I don't know what I expected from this book. It's somewhat marketed as a mystery, I suppose, but that's a little misleading. The central character, Gwenni, isn't a precocious little child detective, a mini Sherlock Holmes. She's a slightly odd child, with a lot of imagination and a funny way of putting things, and about the complications in her life that begin with the disappearance of one of her neighbours.
She doesn't actually find his body, or track down and confront his murderer, although she does figure things out. The story is much more about the emotional journey. It's not a particularly light or fun one -- it's a hurting one, with a lot of pain and complex themes about mental illness. I found it a rather quiet story, oddly everyday, for all that there are horrible things happening.
One thing that bothered me was that the characters didn't feel the right age. It was part of Gwenni's oddness, I suppose, but she felt rather younger to me than she was supposed to be. I got used to it, but it definitely threw me off at first.
I loved how Welsh it all felt, at any rate. 'Tada' and 'Mam' and 'Nain' and 'Taid', and the turn of phrase, and... from the very first page, I recognised my own Welsh family in some of the characters and speech patterns.
I rarely offer advice about children reading books, since I was allowed a free hand with my parents books and in the library from the age of eight, and don't believe it did me any harm -- still, it's not a comfortably, cosy book, and I don't recommend it for young/immature teenagers. If I were to give this to a young person, I'd be at the ready to discuss it with them, I think, due to the domestic violence and mental illness that's very much at the heart of the story.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-11 08:57 am (UTC)And I am glad that The Earth Hums in B Flat comes across as so Welsh to you. ^-^