Eden

Prince of Annwn (Evangeline Walton)

Prince of Annwn is the first in a series of retellings of the Four Branches of the Mabinogion. Evangeline Walton wasn't Welsh, but nonetheless she made herself very familiar with the sources, and while she added to the story, there was nothing that I could see that wasn't in the spirit of it. She expanded and humanised the stories of the Mabinogion, giving Pwyll more of a journey and an arc of character growth, and adding a conflict between older faiths and new ones. At times there was a bit of endorsement of the 'Universal Spirit' idea: "In essence all Gods are the same, and one; but few mortals have glimpsed that Untellable Glory, and no human mind may hold it." Which, given that I'm a Unitarian Universalist, appeals to me.

Evangeline Walton's prose is clear and easy to read, and while at times there's a touch of the archaic about the phrasing and such, it doesn't get ridiculous or bogged down in it, and sometimes Pwyll's thoughts are refreshingly modern and direct. There are some beautiful passages, too. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the tetralogy.

The Children of Llyr (Evangeline Walton)

The second of Evangeline Walton's retellings of the Four Branches of the Mabinogion, The Children of Llyr is heartwrenching. The story of Pwyll, Prince of Annwn -- it's harrowing enough at times, fearing that he's messed everything up, that nothing will be good again... But the story of the children of Llyr is something else again, the destruction of two races, of a whole way of life.

It's better than the first book, to my mind: it got under my skin so much, so that I could hardly bear to keep reading, but I could hardly bear to stop. I fell in love with Manawydan, especially, and ached for Branwen, for Nissyen, and even at the end for Evnissyen. Evangeline Walton really brought the tales to life, here, and made them feel vibrant and urgent and pressing. She had to add less, I think, to make the story interesting, so it's also perhaps more true to the source.

My only complaint is the slight preachiness, near the end, where Bran the Blessed talks about governments and so on. It's an anachronism, which the text acknowledges, and it pulled me out of it.

There's such a sense of inevitability, of doom, of all the bright things going dull... I loved it. Much as I love the stories of the Mabinogion, my heritage, they weren't set on fire for me until reading this.

The Song of Rhiannon (Evangeline Walton)

The Song of Rhiannon, a retelling of the Third Branch of the Mabinogion, isn't as powerful as The Children of Llyr, which is a relief, in a way. There's a time of healing for the characters, as well as what they suffer during the action of the story, and there's a happy end for them as well. It continues to follow the characters of Manawydan, Rhiannon, Pryderi and Kigva. There are actually few other characters in the story, fleshed-out or not, but the character of the Bogey made me smile quite a bit, as did his interactions with Manawydan.

Once more, Evangeline Walton brings the characters to life. I can't remember anything in the Mabinogion about some of the elements she introduces, e.g. about Pryderi's father, but they all seem to belong quite naturally.

If I didn't already care about Pryderi, Rhiannon and Manawydan, though, I don't know how much I would have loved this book. The retelling of the Second Branch is the strongest so far, and can stand alone, but this can't, to my mind.

I have serious love for her version of Manawydan, in all his wisdom and dignity and his love for his land.

The Island of the Mighty (Evangeline Walton)

Island of the Mighty retells the last branch of the Mabinogion, the story of Gwydion, Arianrhod, Llew Llaw Gyffes, Blodeuwedd and Goronwy. It begins with a retelling of stealing the pigs belonging to Lord Pryderi. Gwydion uses this to provoke war, allowing his younger brother to rape the king's footholder. This also leads to the death of Pryderi, which doesn't endear Gwydion to the reader who has also read the retellings of the other three branches -- and also to the disgracing of Arianrhod and the birth of Llew Llaw Gyffes.

The themes Evangeline Walton explored in the other books come to fruition here, as power passes more and more from women to men, even power over birth and the rearing of children. Arianrhod is not very sympathetically dealt with, I have to say: often Walton's work suggests that the passing of women's power is a bad thing, but Arianrhod is capricious and unkind, considered by characters and text unnatural -- for the crime of not having wanted to bear a child! Blodeuwedd isn't treated with much sympathy here, and the other women are barely characters.

It's hard to sympathise with most of the characters here, particularly as they stir up war, steal, lie and trick each other. I still enjoyed it as a retelling and think Walton dealt well with the material, but I wish she'd been kinder to Arianrhod and Blodeuwedd, who were both unable to fit in the patriarchal society that wanted power over women's bodies, and expected them to abide by two conflicting sets of rules.

A while ago I promised some Welsh Fiction in English reviews. Here goes... Organised by author, with a little preamble.

( Allen Raine )

( Caradoc Evans )

( Lewis Jones )

Reminder: I don't post all my reviews here, so add me on goodreads (here)if you want to see all of them.

Don't Look Back (Josh Lanyon)

Started reading this when I was awake with a stomach ache at five in the morning. It's very readable, and kept my attention, even in that state -- and I finished it in one go today. It's pretty standard fare for Josh Lanyon, in the sense that there were no surprises, but he always manages to make it readable, and I enjoyed the character growth these particular characters had to go through, particularly that surrounding Peter and his friend Cole.

The sex scenes were pretty numerous, given the dream sequences, but there was one in particular that was really effective. The others I could've taken or left, but there was one in the middle that I thought was really well done and revealed things about both characters and their relationship.

I also liked the background friendships with Roma and Jessica. It'd be nice if there'd been more of their involvement, rather than the rather expositiony way they were handled.

For lazy, quick reading, I really have to learn that there's none better than Josh Lanyon. I'd been a bit reading-blocked, if that's possible, just working away on The Decameron and course books, but hopefully this unstoppered it a bit.

Shards of Honour (Lois McMaster Bujold)

Normally I wait to post reviews here until I've read the whole series, but that'll be quite a while with Bujold, so I'll give her a tag of her own instead.

I've been meaning to read Bujold's books for a while. Everyone has sung her praises, it seems -- though there hasn't been a reliable consensus on which book to start with, Cordelia or Miles, so I finally plumped for doing things chronologically. I'm told the later books are higher quality, but I do like to begin at the beginning.

I didn't really understand the hype about this book, in any case. I did enjoy it, but it didn't blow me away: I've read plenty of speculative fiction which I found fresher and/or more profound. I did enjoy the characters, but I didn't live in their skins with them; it was reasonably well paced, but there were sections where it was far too easy to put the book down. I didn't get deeply absorbed in the political game being played, either: it was functional, certainly, but not riveting. I did get quite involved with the fate of Bothari, and there was horrible pathos in the situation with him and Elena. That aspect of the books isn't simple at all, and I did connect with that. The aftermath section really affected me, too.

Definitely looking forward to continuing with the series, but not deeply in love with it (yet?).

Blackberry Wine (Joanne Harris)

The first time I tried to read Blackberry Wine apparently wasn't the right time to try to read this book. This time, though, I read it practically all in one go -- with, yeah, a glass of wine. Joanne Harris' prose is always easy to read, really clear, and I can believe in the characters she creates at least enough to carry on to the very last page. Joe, in particular, rang true with me: a miner's son, a gardener, a Yorkshire lad... Jay, perhaps not as much, particularly not at the beginning, but yes, enough that I cared what happened to him.

I love the everyday magic that Joanne Harris' characters work. Just normal enough that you can believe it's true for a while. Just close enough to coincidence or wishful thinking that if you can't step over into fantasy, you don't have to.

I don't think I'm likely to reread any of Joanne Harris' books: I guess to me they're a bit like chocolate, or a bottle of wine. You can only have the experience once. But I do greatly enjoy them, and will be sad when there are no more that I can read.

It's the 24 hour read-a-thon tomorrow! I'm going to have a bit of a spanner in the works, in that I'm going to be going to a concert -- Karine Polwart -- tomorrow evening. But I'll take along my Kindle/my iPod with a Kindle app, and we'll see what I can do.

I have quite a pile I'll be drawing from tomorrow, and I don't expect to finish even half these. But this is what I might be reading:


Not many dead tree books this time.

-Sarah Rees Brennan, The Demon's Lexicon.
-Lois McMaster Bujold, the Vorkosigan series.
-Lois McMaster Bujold, the Chalion trilogy.
-Octavia Butler, Bloodchild and Other Stories.
-Michael Chabon, The Yiddish Policemen's Union.
-Eoin Colfer, the Artemis Fowl series.
-Michael Ende, The Neverending Story.
-Elizabeth Goudge, The Little White Horse.
-Joanne Harris, Coastliners.
-Joanne Harris, Gentlemen and Players.
-Stephen King, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon.
-Josh Lanyon, Don't Look Back.
-Josh Lanyon, The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks.
-Annie Proulx, Fine Just The Way It Is.
-J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter series.
-William Shakespeare, King Lear.
-Thomas E. Sniegoski, the Remy Chandler books.
-Muriel Spark, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.

Like last time, I'll start a new post after few hours, but in between those, I'll be editing a post until it gets -- to my mind, anyway -- too crowded. I'll start in here, so if you're interested in my progress, check back tomorrow! I'll be updating on what I think of the books, plus linking to my reviews on goodreads.

12:35: Just gearing up to go. Got plenty of sleep last night, just had a shower. Now I need to dry my hair, eat a bacon sandwich, and find my first cosy reading nook of the day. I'll be starting with Octavia Butler's Fledgling, which I'm partway through and haven't finished. I'll probably update every hour or so!

13:43: Finished Fledgling; my review is here. Onto a collection of short stories, Bloodchild and Other Stories, also by Octavia Butler.

14:12: Introduction meme time!

1)Where are you reading from today? My parents' house in Yorkshire.
2)Three random facts about me… I'm an English Lit student, my Kindle is called Desmond, I used to be a ballerina. There, a nice random assortment!
3)How many books do you have in your TBR pile for the next 24 hours? A lot. I haven't counted.
4)Do you have any goals for the read-a-thon (i.e. number of books, number of pages, number of hours, or number of comments on blogs)? Not really. I'd like to beat last time, which was seven books.
5)If you’re a veteran read-a-thoner, any advice for people doing this for the first time? Don't drink too much caffeine, or you'll end up needing to pee wayyyy too much.

15:35: Still working on Bloodchild. I've found that reading short stories is actually a bad thing -- for me, anyway -- because instead of getting to settle into something that sweeps me away, I keep having to get into it all over again. And sometimes not, and then I struggle.

I've also started drinking some coke. It's cold and fizzy and caffeinated, so I decided I'll have one or two cans during the 'thon. The next one will be during the night, I think. In the meantime I'll have juice. I'm technically not meant to drink coke, during Lent, but I'm exempting myself for this!

16:21: The hour four post asked about reading companions. Here's mine -- Helen Hippo, my teddy since I was two days old, now nearly twenty-two years old!

I finished Bloodchild: my review is here. Now onto The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (Muriel Spark).

18:37: Finished The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, review here. Not sure what I'll read next -- possibly King Lear, according to my plan, but perhaps I'll move right on to one of the Josh Lanyon or Joanne Harris books.

I won't be updating for a few hours, now. It's more or less time to go to the concert. I'll be back around midnight, at the latest! Hopefully I'll have read at least one more book by then.

00:01: Back from the concert! It was fantastic, though I did read through most of it. I put the book down firmly when she sang "We're All Leaving", though, largely because it always makes me cry... In the meantime, I've managed to read King Lear (William Shakespeare), review here. I'm also almost halfway through Gentlemen and Players (Joanne Harris). Settling down to that with a glass of smoothie (cranberries, blueberries and cherries -- all fruits I dislike on their own, but apparently don't mind in combination).

Mid-event survey...

1. What are you reading right now? Joanne Harris' Gentlemen and Players.
2. How many books have you read so far? Four and a half.
3. What book are you most looking forward to for the second half of the Read-a-thon? I've always heard a lot of good things -- worship even -- about The Neverending Story (Michael Ende).
4. Did you have to make any special arrangements to free up your whole day? I didn't free up my whole day. I just attended a concert.
5. Have you had many interruptions? How did you deal with those? The concert, errands, dinner, a bout of motion sickness in the car. I read through them where possible and put up with it where not!
6. What surprises you most about the Read-a-thon, so far? That I, as a lit student who reads in Old and Middle English and Old Norse, can be so bloody thrown by Shakespeare.
7. Do you have any suggestions for how to improve the Read-a-thon next year? No.
8. What would you do differently, as a Reader or a Cheerleader, if you were to do this again next year? Try not to be attending a concert on the day.
9. Are you getting tired yet? A little, yes.
10. Do you have any tips for other Readers or Cheerleaders, something you think is working well for you that others may not have discovered? Apparently Innocent smoothies help greatly. I'm perking up, anyway...

I think with the next hour, I might make a new post. I like to start them with a photo -- any requests?

The Man Who Loved Books Too Much (Allison Bartlett)

The Man Who Loved Books Too Much is definitely the wrong title for this book, because that's really not what this book is about. The love of stories is something I can relate to, easily -- or even the love of beautiful first editions. The amoral antics of a thief who wants to have books as a status symbol, and the wishy-washy morals of the story-hungry writer, are not something I can sympathise with as much. And I increasingly worried about the latter. She could have reported thefts of books worth thousands and thousands of dollars; she could have reported credit card fraud; she could have helped to discover where Gilkey hid the books.

By the end of the book, I wasn't sure that she would do that last -- and I knew she didn't report the thefts or the fraud. She becomes an unreliable narrator, I think. I mean, humans already tend to be, because even the most honest of us have fallible memories. I was almost more interested in that increasing swing to being on Gilkey's side.

In any case, as a book, it's easy to read, though not exactly glittering prose. It's a collection of recollections and personal musings, none of which I found particularly interesting. The more interesting figure of Ken Sanders, the "bibliodick", was rapidly written out as he began to notice the author's growing bias and unethical practices.

Lifelode (Jo Walton)

I've loved everything I've read by Jo Walton, but it's so hard to rate them in relation to each other, because they're each so different. I enjoyed Lifelode more than Tooth and Claw, but perhaps less than Farthing -- yet I rated both four stars. I loved Among Others most of all her work so far, and I'm not sure Lifelode matches up... Maybe I should be rating all her work that I've read so far five stars, except Tooth and Claw.

Her range of work is fascinating. Her books are not like each other, and yet all of them are well-written and ambitious, and succeed very well with their ambitions. The narration of Lifelode, for example, is done in both past and present tense, because for one of the main characters, time is like that: all things happening at once. I expected to see more of the more distant past, through Taveth, but it was very much about that generation, the people she knew. It's a very warm book, full of family bonds and love.

It's also interesting in that polyamory seems to be the default, and Jo Walton treats that sensitively. There's a sense of great strength in the relationships, but also an acknowledgement of the problems they'll succeed. There's also LGBT people, and one who seems pretty much asexual. She always writes about all kinds of people, and that's another thing I really appreciate about her writing.

It's also nice that the gendering of roles isn't a really big thing here. Taveth is a housewife, but she chooses that, and her role is central to the functioning of her home. But even a female priest is still just called a priest, not a priestess.

I've managed to say all that and say nothing about the plot. It's a domestic fantasy, although there is also a level on which it is about gods. I think the homelife is as important to the story as the bursts of fighting, and the magic -- the bonds between people are, I think, more important, as they are what is under threat. Don't go into it expecting a big showdown at the end, or something like that.

Child of the Northern Spring (Persia Woolley)

I really wasn't impressed by Persia Woolley's version of Guinevere's story, to begin with. The transitions between past and present were clumsily done, and this version of Guinevere wasn't anything particularly new. It reminded me very much of Mercedes Lackey's version of the story, Gwenhwyfar: The White Spirit, except that this Guinevere is less of a warrior-type. They had definite similarities, though, with the deaths of their mothers, their links to Epona, etc.

However, as it developed, I came to enjoy it much more. The prose never really rose above mediocre, in my opinion, but the characters were well presented, and their relations to each other well thought out. The glimpse of a young, angry Gawain was fantastic, though too brief for a Gawain-lover like myself, and I particularly liked Bedivere. The relationship between Arthur and Guinevere also felt real, and I sort of don't want to read the rest of this trilogy, because it will separate them. Although not inevitably, I suppose: Sarah Zettel's books sidestep that issue, why can't others?

Another thing I appreciated was her care in the author's note regarding the choice of place names and such. She chose to call the Welsh people the Cumbri, which is nice, given that the word "Welsh" actually comes from the Saxon word for "foreigner". I think she navigated that well.

So, all in all, surprisingly satisfying -- I think I will track down the other books.

Because Jo Walton is rapidly becoming one of my favourite writers, and because I loved this book, and because this is a new book and I think people should buy it, here is my review of it, all on its own, immediately I've finished the book.

I tried to write this review without spoilers, but it depends on what you consider to be spoilers. I think it's a book based more on characters than events, and I don't think knowing some of the events will spoil the whole, but you might want to exercise a bit of caution...

( Jo Walton -- Among Others )

A batch of reviews today and a batch tomorrow, to catch up -- I've been reading a lot!

( Juliet Marillier -- Wildwood Dancing & Cybele's Secret )

( Douglas Adams -- Dirk Gently )

( Kirby Crow -- Scarlet and the White Wolf trilogy )

The Killing Way (Tony Hays)

Now I've read a handful of historical mysteries, I'm starting to see trends -- the interest in the physical things surrounding the stories: how this was built or by whom, what purpose this serves, etc. I'm really not so interested in that: I know how castles are built, and often by whom, or at least what particular purpose they've served, and I am far more interested in reading about people.

Fortunately, to some extent, I can say that Tony Hays delivers both. He invents the central character, the narrator, Malgwyn, in a way that reminded me a lot of Bernard Cornwell's Derfel in The Winter King et al. A one-armed ex-warrior-cum-scribe, he's bitter toward Arthur for saving his life, still angry at the Saxons who caused his wife's death, and feels himself unworthy of being with his daughter, who he leaves with his brother to be raised by him. Woven around the murder mystery and political plot is his slow realisation that his life isn't over, that he has a family to take care of, and that killing Saxons doesn't satisfy his hatred and pain anymore. This is all reasonably well done, and despite being one-armed, Malgwyn is a capable warrior and, when not drunk, he is a clever man.

Which is, of course, why Arthur saved his life, and why Arthur turns to him when a murder is blamed on someone close to him. Arthur is about to take the throne -- or, as it's framed here, succeed the last Rigotamos, the head chieftain of all the Brythonic tribes -- and he needs to find out the truth of the murder, and fast, as other chieftains attempt to use it against him. The portrayal of Arthur is a familiar one, closer to the Arthur of Geoffrey's Historia or Wace and Layamon's Bruts than to the Arthur of French romance. He's capable, good in war, fair, and a Christian man, with Roman pretensions. Hand in hand with this goes the fact that figures like Lancelot and Galahad are not present.

More unusually, Gawain is not present either, and no relationship to Arthur is stressed. He's referenced a couple of times, but never appears. One of the main figures in the story, other than Malgwyn and Arthur, is Kay, who is treated very well here: he is noble and good-hearted, loyal to his lord, although supposedly he has a temper (which isn't really displayed much). I really enjoyed the portrayal of Kay, who -- like Arthur -- isn't touched by any of the French tradition. That's really what prompted me to give it four stars, despite not being really overwhelmed with the rest of it, which I found to be reasonably standard fare for a historical mystery story.

If you're fond of Tristan, you won't really enjoy his portrayal here. He's allied with traitors, and a coward, and the sort of man who mistreats women. It's an interesting way to choose to portray him, though.

Ultimately, it's easy to read, and kind of interesting to see which characters Tony Hays uses and what he does with them. I'll read the sequel, and likely anything else he writes for this series, but it hasn't even really approached my favourite Arthurian stories.

The Divine Sacrifice (Tony Hays)

The sequel to The Killing Way, this is another Arthurian mystery novel. I don't think you need to read the first book if all you're interested in is the mystery, but if you're interested in the emotional development of the main character, then you'd be better served by reading the first book.

I enjoyed The Divine Sacrifice less than The Killing Way, I think. It's less about Arthur, and Arthur's rule, particularly in the first half or so, and more about a complex situation involving both religious issues and personal ones. The answers to the mysteries weren't particularly a surprise for me, but nor was I particularly involved in them. The character of Patrick was an interesting one, and Malgwyn's development continued somewhat, but Kay -- a major feature of the first book, for me -- wasn't really present, and Bedevere didn't move forward to take that place as much as I could wish.

Another thing that bothers me is the... racial determinism. It's very black and white: Saxons are bad. The Scotti are bad. Admittedly, it's told from the point of view of someone who has no particular reason to be sympathetic in any way to the Scotti and Saxons. Still, Bernard Cornwell managed to make the Saxons the enemy at the same time as rendering them human -- I'm thinking of the narrator, Derfel, and his father... I suppose it could be moving to a less black and white view of the Saxons, as Malgwyn comes to terms with his reasons for fighting them.

Reading the author's notes is interesting, too. He refers to unsympathetic Welsh material, which I'm guessing must be the hagiographies, as I can't think of anything else I've read that is particularly unsympathetic.

(Sometimes, I long for a bibliography in books as much as I would in an academic essay. Hah.)

Tooth and Claw (Jo Walton)

Tooth and Claw is a Jane Austen-ish tale, of maidens with slightly compromised virtue, inheritances, betrothals, law suits... Except, all those involved? They're dragons. I really enjoyed how Jo Walton handled this aspect: she sets up a whole culture for the dragons, with plenty of history in the background -- not detailed so that it drags down the plot, which is very much about the present, but enough to feel real.

I have to confess, when I first started reading it, I didn't get into it very much. I picked it back up tonight, though, and read the last two thirds of it all in one go, giggling in the appropriate places and squirming on the edge of my seat, wondering how things could possibly turn out alright.

It's fun. It's inventive. It has characters you can get to care about -- I think my favourite is Sher: he seems so basically good, despite his flightiness initially, and he comes to care so much about Selendra.

My only quibble is in that something, whatever it was, in the first third that failed to catch my attention. And, I suppose, how much Jo Walton crammed in here that she didn't really get to examine in the detail I would have been interested in: the issues of the enslaved dragons, the foreign dragons, and the True Believers.

On further thought, that is just like Jane Austen, though, e.g. the light mention of the slave trade in Mansfield Park.

Liar (Justine Larbalestier)

( Not spoilery )

The Hundred and Ninety-Nine Steps (Michel Faber)

( Short answer: don't bother with this one; mild spoilers )

The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ (Philip Pullman)

( If you consider 'Christians say Jesus rose from the dead' a spoiler... )