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Dec. 27th, 2007 12:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blodeueddYesterday, I forgot to mention that there was also a present from me to myself under the tree. It's a lovely blue necklace, and I must say that I have excellent taste. It was just like something I would have picked out for myself!
Twice this past week, I've been to a delightful little bakery called Tom-tom. It's across the river and a 20-minute walk from my place, and it's cheaper than the bakery that's closer to where I live, as well as having a different selection and more things that I like, such as curry buns for 100y. Two birds with one stone, eh? Exercise and tasty baked goods. Score!
In catching up with my reviews, I've been forced to admit that for some reason, I'm putting off writing about Veronica Mars's second and third seasons. It seems that I have so much to say that I'm paralysed, afraid that I'll end up saying nothing at all. *pout* In that spirit, today is not the day I shall review them!
Rather, I think I'll go with
This Alien Shore (C.S. Friedman):
The cover features a pretty red-haired girl in skimpy clothing, with many strange humanoid aliens behind her. Okay, I thought, I'll give it the benefit of the doubt, and it's only a subway read. Not that "a subway read" is, by definition, a lesser one, it's just that I like to be able to immerse myself in them quickly, and extract myself just as quickly*. The foreword from the author was written from an obviously female perseptive, which had me hoping the book wouldn't follow suit. As much as I hate to say it, I've generally always prefered books written by men, if only because they're generally not overly sentimental. And without going into the gender politics of the publishing industry, I'm guessing the author goes by her initials because it's easier to be taken seriously that way, especially as a science-fiction writer.
To my relief, the book was quite a good read. The author managed to make the typical teenaged girl (on the run from the big bad organisation, of course) into quite a likeable protagonist. She's often overwhelmed, but she generally manages to use her smarts and special talents (as I guess you could call her multiple personalities) to get herself out of danger, without being unrealistically mature or helpless. In fact, the multiple personalities could easily have been used to explain any inconsistencies in her character, but she was remarkably well-drawn on the whole. I liked her.
Masada, the programmer, also managed to be sympathetic, in spite of his kaja, which is repeatedly described as being more comfortable in his own little world. I must say that the whole concept of kaja was both clear and unclear. One of the points of the book is that space travel and habitation have given rise to countless human mutations, both physical and mental. The book delves a bit into the politics of this, the discrimination and prejudice on both sides -- Earth, fearful that it will be polluted by these mutations, has virtually eradicated all forms of mental imbalance; the Outworlds have embraced these differences, and those who have retained their original human form have cultivated their different mental peculiarities (such as autism, which is never named, but obviously the basis for Masada's kaja), and view the people of Earth as backwards and xenophobic. Anyway, it seems that kaja describes the mental makeup of people, but they also wear intricate tattoos or makeup on their face, representing their kaja, of which there may be more than one. However, some scenes show the lines to reflect the mood of the character rather than their nature, so I wasn't too sure how to read them. It's a neat idea, but I wish Friedman had treated it more clearly, especially in the little scholarly bit interspersed between chapters.
Phoenix, the hacker, is another character who managed to be more than the cliché he seemed to be at first. Still, isn't that name a bit too generic? I imagine if the first hacker didn't call himself Phoenix, than the second one did. As for other characters, the Guildmasters (and who reading this will not be reminded of Dune, at least where the Guild is concerned?) were a bit too stereotypical, especially with all the spider analogies, but I did like the Prima, as she was a powerful female character who was able to be human, and outwit everyone else at the same time.
The "did she die or not?" bit, near the end, had me wondering, if only for a minute. On the one hand, having the scene told from the perspective of a minor character and in an offical voice made it obvious that everyone is supposed to think that Jamisia is dead. On the other hand, it's such an obvious trick that it's almost as though the author is sitting there, grinning at us: "You thought I didn't have the guts to off her, did you?"
Final verdict: 8/10
* Which is why Vanity Fair wasn't ideal for that situation, as it's not the sort of novel that invites one to skim along.
Twice this past week, I've been to a delightful little bakery called Tom-tom. It's across the river and a 20-minute walk from my place, and it's cheaper than the bakery that's closer to where I live, as well as having a different selection and more things that I like, such as curry buns for 100y. Two birds with one stone, eh? Exercise and tasty baked goods. Score!
In catching up with my reviews, I've been forced to admit that for some reason, I'm putting off writing about Veronica Mars's second and third seasons. It seems that I have so much to say that I'm paralysed, afraid that I'll end up saying nothing at all. *pout* In that spirit, today is not the day I shall review them!
Rather, I think I'll go with
This Alien Shore (C.S. Friedman):
The cover features a pretty red-haired girl in skimpy clothing, with many strange humanoid aliens behind her. Okay, I thought, I'll give it the benefit of the doubt, and it's only a subway read. Not that "a subway read" is, by definition, a lesser one, it's just that I like to be able to immerse myself in them quickly, and extract myself just as quickly*. The foreword from the author was written from an obviously female perseptive, which had me hoping the book wouldn't follow suit. As much as I hate to say it, I've generally always prefered books written by men, if only because they're generally not overly sentimental. And without going into the gender politics of the publishing industry, I'm guessing the author goes by her initials because it's easier to be taken seriously that way, especially as a science-fiction writer.
To my relief, the book was quite a good read. The author managed to make the typical teenaged girl (on the run from the big bad organisation, of course) into quite a likeable protagonist. She's often overwhelmed, but she generally manages to use her smarts and special talents (as I guess you could call her multiple personalities) to get herself out of danger, without being unrealistically mature or helpless. In fact, the multiple personalities could easily have been used to explain any inconsistencies in her character, but she was remarkably well-drawn on the whole. I liked her.
Masada, the programmer, also managed to be sympathetic, in spite of his kaja, which is repeatedly described as being more comfortable in his own little world. I must say that the whole concept of kaja was both clear and unclear. One of the points of the book is that space travel and habitation have given rise to countless human mutations, both physical and mental. The book delves a bit into the politics of this, the discrimination and prejudice on both sides -- Earth, fearful that it will be polluted by these mutations, has virtually eradicated all forms of mental imbalance; the Outworlds have embraced these differences, and those who have retained their original human form have cultivated their different mental peculiarities (such as autism, which is never named, but obviously the basis for Masada's kaja), and view the people of Earth as backwards and xenophobic. Anyway, it seems that kaja describes the mental makeup of people, but they also wear intricate tattoos or makeup on their face, representing their kaja, of which there may be more than one. However, some scenes show the lines to reflect the mood of the character rather than their nature, so I wasn't too sure how to read them. It's a neat idea, but I wish Friedman had treated it more clearly, especially in the little scholarly bit interspersed between chapters.
Phoenix, the hacker, is another character who managed to be more than the cliché he seemed to be at first. Still, isn't that name a bit too generic? I imagine if the first hacker didn't call himself Phoenix, than the second one did. As for other characters, the Guildmasters (and who reading this will not be reminded of Dune, at least where the Guild is concerned?) were a bit too stereotypical, especially with all the spider analogies, but I did like the Prima, as she was a powerful female character who was able to be human, and outwit everyone else at the same time.
The "did she die or not?" bit, near the end, had me wondering, if only for a minute. On the one hand, having the scene told from the perspective of a minor character and in an offical voice made it obvious that everyone is supposed to think that Jamisia is dead. On the other hand, it's such an obvious trick that it's almost as though the author is sitting there, grinning at us: "You thought I didn't have the guts to off her, did you?"
Final verdict: 8/10
* Which is why Vanity Fair wasn't ideal for that situation, as it's not the sort of novel that invites one to skim along.
