I have had to trash an entire draft of the next Laundry novel because I tried to satirize British politics, and British politics is beyond satire. --Charles StrossMore classified, sanity-destroying, mankind-was-not-meant-to-know details here. With spoilers for a novel that will never exist--except in some unspeakable, eldritch, mind-warping alternative dimension!!!!!
Monday, August 15, 2016
And Speaking of "The Laundry Files" ...
Anent this ...
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Book Review: Door to Door
Door to Door: The Magnificent, Maddening, Mysterious World of Transportation
Edward Humes
2016, Books, Engineering, Sociology
The subtitle has some truth in it. Door to Door is, in places, magnificent. It's often maddening, too. In the best cases this is in agreement with Edward Humes's arguments. Other times, unfortunately, it's Humes himself who's maddening. Door to Door isn't really one book, in fact. It's two books, which happen to reside awkwardly between the same pair of covers.
Book A is what I recently called an empiricist book about how transportation happens. That is, it's about the magic of moving stuff (and people, but mainly stuff) around. This book is genuinely fascinating and enlightening. It's what's described in the blurb. I would happily have read this book.
Book B is a book which should be entitled Why Cars Are Eeeevil (and How the Self-Driving Car Will Save Us All). It's a long, impassioned, well-written, impressively statistic-driven essay--I think I wouldn't be going too far in using the term "diatribe", with "rant" lurking in the wings--about Why Cars Are Evil.
I am not an unreceptive audience to this message. I read most of this book while riding commuter rail trains, which I take (in large part) because I think that cars really are evil. There's nothing wrong with this idea. I would happily have read Why Cars Are Eeeevil as well--and had many fewer reservations afterwards.
But Why Cars Are Eeeevil isn't a stand-alone; nor does it peacefully coexist with the original book, the one about logistics. You'll forgive me for observing that, in fact, it runs right over it, leaving its tire-riven corpse bleeding in the gutter. Humes gets so wound up in Why Cars Are Eeeevil that he neglects to finish the other book. His research never takes him outside of southern California. He dismisses the national freight railroad system in a sentence--a laudatory sentence, but still! One sentence! Pipelines and barges aren't mentioned at all.
Door to Door could be sliced up into a number of good Slate magazine articles. It could be split into two books, each of which would have something going for it. As one split-personality book, I'd have to rate it less "magnificent", more "maddening", and--I'm sorry to say it--something of a disappointment as well.
One of the best books ever written on the logistics of transportation is (naturally) by John McPhee: Uncommon Carriers. Rose George's 90% of Everything is also pretty good.
Edward Humes
2016, Books, Engineering, Sociology
The subtitle has some truth in it. Door to Door is, in places, magnificent. It's often maddening, too. In the best cases this is in agreement with Edward Humes's arguments. Other times, unfortunately, it's Humes himself who's maddening. Door to Door isn't really one book, in fact. It's two books, which happen to reside awkwardly between the same pair of covers.
Book A is what I recently called an empiricist book about how transportation happens. That is, it's about the magic of moving stuff (and people, but mainly stuff) around. This book is genuinely fascinating and enlightening. It's what's described in the blurb. I would happily have read this book.
Book B is a book which should be entitled Why Cars Are Eeeevil (and How the Self-Driving Car Will Save Us All). It's a long, impassioned, well-written, impressively statistic-driven essay--I think I wouldn't be going too far in using the term "diatribe", with "rant" lurking in the wings--about Why Cars Are Evil.
I am not an unreceptive audience to this message. I read most of this book while riding commuter rail trains, which I take (in large part) because I think that cars really are evil. There's nothing wrong with this idea. I would happily have read Why Cars Are Eeeevil as well--and had many fewer reservations afterwards.
But Why Cars Are Eeeevil isn't a stand-alone; nor does it peacefully coexist with the original book, the one about logistics. You'll forgive me for observing that, in fact, it runs right over it, leaving its tire-riven corpse bleeding in the gutter. Humes gets so wound up in Why Cars Are Eeeevil that he neglects to finish the other book. His research never takes him outside of southern California. He dismisses the national freight railroad system in a sentence--a laudatory sentence, but still! One sentence! Pipelines and barges aren't mentioned at all.
Door to Door could be sliced up into a number of good Slate magazine articles. It could be split into two books, each of which would have something going for it. As one split-personality book, I'd have to rate it less "magnificent", more "maddening", and--I'm sorry to say it--something of a disappointment as well.
One of the best books ever written on the logistics of transportation is (naturally) by John McPhee: Uncommon Carriers. Rose George's 90% of Everything is also pretty good.
Monday, August 8, 2016
Book Review: Grunt
Grunt: The Curious Science of Humans at War
Mary Gentle
Science
Mary Roach is a great writer--insightful, wide-ranging, off-kilter, and funny. Grunt is, as you'd expect, all of these things. The trouble, arguably, is that the subject matter isn't made for this kind of writing.
It's not that it's not interesting. I learned a little something about military clothing, and about reconstructive surgery, and how to sleep on a submarine, and dozens of other things. All the same, this is the first of Roach's books where I was intensely aware of what was left out--the entire Air Force, for example, which seems like a substantial oversight. Nor is there anything on (to take a few random bits that occur to me) body armor; burn treatment; dentistry; computers; battery technology; psychiatry; better mechanisms of actually, you know, shooting people; and so on, and on.
In short, "the curious science of humans at war" is just too big for a Mary Roach book. It's also, fundamentally, too serious. Roach is always an entertaining writer, but we're talking--at best--about people maiming and killing one another in organized ways and large numbers. Sometimes off-kilter and funny get awkward in this context. Roach is clearly aware of the problem: she doesn't mock anybody, and she's good at bringing in the occasional sobering turn. On the other hand, some of her topics are clearly chosen as being good fits for her approach. Sure, it's find to make fun of the search for the perfect military shark repellent . . . now, when the Pacific War has been over for seventy years and we know that it didn't work. That doesn't mean that it was a bad idea, or that it was done in bad faith, or even that it didn't produce useful negative scientific results.
Roach's previous books tend to be about semi-taboo subjects, such as dead people and the alimentary tract and sex. (Not all in one book, thankfully.) Her cockeyed yet insightful reportage works well there. It's a disarming way to learn something about things we're squeamish about. Grunt's subject matter is more somber than squeamish, and careful selection of which subject matter to include can't disguise the fact. I did enjoy reading it very much. I didn't think it fully did justice to its title.
Mary Gentle
Science
Mary Roach is a great writer--insightful, wide-ranging, off-kilter, and funny. Grunt is, as you'd expect, all of these things. The trouble, arguably, is that the subject matter isn't made for this kind of writing.
It's not that it's not interesting. I learned a little something about military clothing, and about reconstructive surgery, and how to sleep on a submarine, and dozens of other things. All the same, this is the first of Roach's books where I was intensely aware of what was left out--the entire Air Force, for example, which seems like a substantial oversight. Nor is there anything on (to take a few random bits that occur to me) body armor; burn treatment; dentistry; computers; battery technology; psychiatry; better mechanisms of actually, you know, shooting people; and so on, and on.
In short, "the curious science of humans at war" is just too big for a Mary Roach book. It's also, fundamentally, too serious. Roach is always an entertaining writer, but we're talking--at best--about people maiming and killing one another in organized ways and large numbers. Sometimes off-kilter and funny get awkward in this context. Roach is clearly aware of the problem: she doesn't mock anybody, and she's good at bringing in the occasional sobering turn. On the other hand, some of her topics are clearly chosen as being good fits for her approach. Sure, it's find to make fun of the search for the perfect military shark repellent . . . now, when the Pacific War has been over for seventy years and we know that it didn't work. That doesn't mean that it was a bad idea, or that it was done in bad faith, or even that it didn't produce useful negative scientific results.
Roach's previous books tend to be about semi-taboo subjects, such as dead people and the alimentary tract and sex. (Not all in one book, thankfully.) Her cockeyed yet insightful reportage works well there. It's a disarming way to learn something about things we're squeamish about. Grunt's subject matter is more somber than squeamish, and careful selection of which subject matter to include can't disguise the fact. I did enjoy reading it very much. I didn't think it fully did justice to its title.
Saturday, August 6, 2016
Book Review: League of Dragons
League of Dragons
Naomi Novik
Fantasy
This is subtitled "The Last Temeraire Novel." That should give you a clue. If you like the Temeraire novels, you'll like League of Dragons. If you don't, you won't. If you've never read them, don't start here.
That's pretty much it. Novik is still good at the things she's good at, and still not good at the things she's not good at. She has no gift for creating memorable secondary characters. Her plotting is somewhat random; League of Dragons has a duel that leaves the main human character wounded, for example, which reads like an outtake and could easily have been cut. The action scenes can get a little bit repetitive, although they're well-written.
But her dragons are wonderful. They fully meet John W. Campbell's famous challenge ("Write me a creature that thinks as well as a man, or better than a man, but not like a man"). If housecats could talk, this is what they'd be like--self-centered, vain, competitive, and somehow lovable. The series isn't as good as its first book, but for a fantasy fan it's worth reading just for the dragons.
Naomi Novik
Fantasy
This is subtitled "The Last Temeraire Novel." That should give you a clue. If you like the Temeraire novels, you'll like League of Dragons. If you don't, you won't. If you've never read them, don't start here.
That's pretty much it. Novik is still good at the things she's good at, and still not good at the things she's not good at. She has no gift for creating memorable secondary characters. Her plotting is somewhat random; League of Dragons has a duel that leaves the main human character wounded, for example, which reads like an outtake and could easily have been cut. The action scenes can get a little bit repetitive, although they're well-written.
But her dragons are wonderful. They fully meet John W. Campbell's famous challenge ("Write me a creature that thinks as well as a man, or better than a man, but not like a man"). If housecats could talk, this is what they'd be like--self-centered, vain, competitive, and somehow lovable. The series isn't as good as its first book, but for a fantasy fan it's worth reading just for the dragons.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
For the Spammers
Here, spammers! Have some Internet Fuel!
Biscuit is poseable. I rolled him over on his back, and he just lay there. It's like he's an inaction figure.
"Every year, tragically, many of these mysterious yet beautiful wild creatures, driven by some mysterious impulse of an uncaring Nature--the moon? the tides?--will beach themselves."
Speaking of beaches, this was in the local Barnes & Noble.
Personally, I can't think of any pair of books more likely to both appeal to the same discerning buyer!
Also, it's clear that Barnes & Noble frequents different beaches than I do.
Monday, August 1, 2016
Book Review: The Abyss Beyond Dreams
The Abyss Beyond Dreams
Peter F. Hamilton
Science fiction
The Abyss Beyond Dreams doesn't have a lot going for it. It has just enough, though. It's over 600 pages long, and I read it. I didn't love it, but I liked it enough to finish.
It doesn't need to be that long. The first 150 or so pages are, in effect, a prologue--in fact, they're two prologues, neither of then necessary. Their function is, apparently, to let Hamilton mention every piece of science-fiction technobabble he's ever dreamed up, as well as to haul in some characters who will never make an appearance again. He could have skipped it, since all the essential information is explained during the course of the actual plot. If you find your attention wandering, you can skip it too.
It doesn't have characterization, either. The characters are one-dimensional. It's the kind of book where every character can be fully encompassed by a pithy epithet. We get the Dedicated Revolutionary, the Brilliant Scientist-Hero, the Evil Dictator, and so forth.
Nor is it a Big Idea book. Nothing in The Abyss Beyond Dreams is terribly original. Some of it recalls Vernor Vinge's "Zones of Thought" galaxy. Other parts are reminiscent of Iain M. Banks. Yet other parts have a whiff of Greg Bear. The difference, however, is that Hamilton doesn't do anything with this stuff. Like the technology, it's just window dressing; you don't have to worry about it, as it doesn't really matter.
Really, The Abyss Beyond Dreams doesn't even make a lot of internal narrative sense. The plot holes are . . . substantial. E.g.: Nigel (the Brilliant Scientist-Hero) discovers that the [random tech jargon involving the word "quantum"] bomb could be used to [random tech jargon verb phrase] and thereby destroy the Void (the Bad Thing). OK, great. Why does he have to use the particular [random tech jargon] bombs that are already inside the Void? Why not send a message to your sponsors--which you can do, because blah blah something to do with dreams blah blah blah--saying "Hey, send in a few hundred [random tech jargon] Bombs!" There were many other examples.
So what does Peter F. Hamilton have? In a word, pacing. The Abyss Beyond Dreams is, if nothing else, a page-turner. I won't say I was deeply invested in the characters or the situation, but I did want to find out what happened next. That's something.
Peter F. Hamilton
Science fiction
The Abyss Beyond Dreams doesn't have a lot going for it. It has just enough, though. It's over 600 pages long, and I read it. I didn't love it, but I liked it enough to finish.
It doesn't need to be that long. The first 150 or so pages are, in effect, a prologue--in fact, they're two prologues, neither of then necessary. Their function is, apparently, to let Hamilton mention every piece of science-fiction technobabble he's ever dreamed up, as well as to haul in some characters who will never make an appearance again. He could have skipped it, since all the essential information is explained during the course of the actual plot. If you find your attention wandering, you can skip it too.
It doesn't have characterization, either. The characters are one-dimensional. It's the kind of book where every character can be fully encompassed by a pithy epithet. We get the Dedicated Revolutionary, the Brilliant Scientist-Hero, the Evil Dictator, and so forth.
Nor is it a Big Idea book. Nothing in The Abyss Beyond Dreams is terribly original. Some of it recalls Vernor Vinge's "Zones of Thought" galaxy. Other parts are reminiscent of Iain M. Banks. Yet other parts have a whiff of Greg Bear. The difference, however, is that Hamilton doesn't do anything with this stuff. Like the technology, it's just window dressing; you don't have to worry about it, as it doesn't really matter.
Really, The Abyss Beyond Dreams doesn't even make a lot of internal narrative sense. The plot holes are . . . substantial. E.g.: Nigel (the Brilliant Scientist-Hero) discovers that the [random tech jargon involving the word "quantum"] bomb could be used to [random tech jargon verb phrase] and thereby destroy the Void (the Bad Thing). OK, great. Why does he have to use the particular [random tech jargon] bombs that are already inside the Void? Why not send a message to your sponsors--which you can do, because blah blah something to do with dreams blah blah blah--saying "Hey, send in a few hundred [random tech jargon] Bombs!" There were many other examples.
So what does Peter F. Hamilton have? In a word, pacing. The Abyss Beyond Dreams is, if nothing else, a page-turner. I won't say I was deeply invested in the characters or the situation, but I did want to find out what happened next. That's something.
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
They're Ba-ack
Our Russian Spambot overlords, that is. And they're all using Internet Explorer.
What, boosting Donald Trump wasn't enough for you?
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