This book was another from the cruise, and although it's fairly short it's not exactly a quick read. I'd been looking forward to reading it for several years, ever since I discovered that one of my favorite authors wrote matching biographies of possibly my two favorite saints: St. Francis and St. Thomas Aquinas. It seemed like a perfect combination, but I've got to admit that the book didn't quite live up to my expectations.
The disappointment was partially my own fault; Chesterton assumed that his readers have a basic knowledge of Greek philosophy and the early church controversies/heresies, and I don't really know Aristotle from Plato, much less have any idea what the Manicheans tried to preach. This may not have been a huge problem if I'd been reading at home, where a full background would have been a google or two away, but for travel reading it meant that a lot of the book went over my head. The other difficulty was that Chesterton's biography of St. Francis was apparently the first one written, and required reading before starting on St. Thomas. The two biographies must be more heavily linked than I assumed at first, because Chesterton was constantly drawing comparisons between the two saints.
So, overall this was not the best choice for travel reading, but I still finished with more information than I started with, which is always a good thing.
We got to go on a Caribbean cruise a few months ago, and in addition to being a ton of fun, it allowed me to actually catch up on some "real book" reading (as opposed to audiobooks, which constitute about 90% of my reading list). Near the top of my list was Planet Narnia: The Seven Heavens in the Imagination of C. S. Lewis, a literary analysis of the Narnia series that makes a rather interesting claim. According to the author, Lewis wrote the seven books of the series to correspond to the seven medieval planets: Jupiter, Mars, Venus, Saturn, Mercury, the Sun and the Moon.
I thought the idea was interesting at first, then after reading his first chapter, which added to the initial claim and made the planetary link the main and central reason for writing the entire series, I was like "riiiiight . . . no I'm pretty sure the Christian allegory was his main reason". But over the course of the book, he builds a pretty good case. He starts by addressing the 'kappa' element in literature, which Lewis had written about in cases such as Spenser's Faerie Queen--a kind of secret meaning behind a large work. The whole point of the kappa element is that it must remain hidden, the author himself can never call attention to it, which is why Lewis had no problem discussing the Christian allegory angle, but never let on to the planetary links. This was the high point of my skepticism, it just sounded way to conspiracy-theoryish to be true.
However, the fun part was the book-by-book analysis of the series. Ward explains the themes and attributes that belong to each planet, how Lewis identified these attributes/themes and used them in his other works (mostly unpublished poetry and his Space Trilogy, so the ST is basically prerequisite reading), and finally how they were used in their particular book. These ranged from the large scale aspects of the plot and setting to seemingly insignificant details like word choice, colors ,names, and metallic elements.
Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the book, although it probably doesn't have universal appeal. If you really like Lewis, Narnia, and super-detailed literary analysis, you'll love Planet Narnia :-p otherwise, it's very easy to get lost in the mire.
Whoa, I've got a backlog building up :-p not as much spare energy as usual. But if I wait too long, everything's going to start running together, so here's a quick one:
This first book in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series is a fun romp--modernized Greek mythology given the Harry Potter treatment. Twelve year old Percy Jackson is a lovable misfit, transferred from one school to another because he chronically gets into trouble, only to discover that he's actually the son of a Greek god. He's whisked away to a special school for Olympian half-bloods, where he makes new friends, goes on crazy adventures and kills plenty of monsters.
I'll probably go into more detail about the series in later reviews, 'cause it's good enough to keep reading, and the beefs I have against it are pretty much balanced by the fun stuff.
It usually takes me a little while to warm up to Ursula K. LeGuin's writing, but once I do it's always enjoyable. I'm entirely sure why, maybe it has something to do with her characters or her tone, but I remember that I made it through the first two books of the Earthsea sequence with somewhat lukewarm reception before the third book really caught my interest. It may be that she spends quite a bit of her stories building up to an emotional climax which feels empty and cold as it's developing, but totally remakes the story once you reach it. I dunno :-p I should read more of her stuff, I'm basing this off of about five of her novels. (Turns out I haven't actually finished Earthsea yet, I'd better get on that!)
But anyway, Changing Planes was my first encounter with her short stories, and they were amazing. I'd hate to give away the pun in the title with too much description, but what the book amounts to is a collection of world-building stories that blend scifi and fantasy. (And in the finest traditions of each, there's a healthy and amusing dose of social commentary in there too.) Each one is a window into a new civilization, new species, new world, all told in a clever travelogue style. Because of the structure, I didn't run into any of the emotional delay I've noticed in her other stuff, and overall it was a really fun book.
What to Expect When You're Expecting, 4th edition by Heidi Murkoff and Sharon Mazel
Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy by Roger W. Harms, MD (ed)
Yep! It's finally time for a family that includes more than canine children ^_^ Due date is Oct 30th, and we're super-excited!
So, as soon as we found out and the first rush of excitement turned to "oh wow, we have no idea what we're doing here", it was time for the bookstore. These are the two titles that top the list for pregnancy books, and although I haven't shopped around much more, that popularity seems to be deserved.
What to Expect is the quintessential pregnancy book. My mom had a copy of What to Expect, your mom probably had a copy, and at my first appointment, my OB specifically asked if I had a copy. It covers all the basics: what to eat, what not to eat, baby's development, pregnancy symptoms, possible complications, a section for dads, and more. I've poked around on the internet a bit, since that's a default for me, but none of the pregnancy sites I've found have any new information, or at least not new information I'm willing to trust. It's well-organized and I've never had any problems using it. One thing I discovered after buying the book is that there's also a free iPhone app that includes most, if not all, of the text, and the book's website also has a lot of information. I still prefer having the physical book, but it might be a helpful alternative option.
Mayo Clinic Guide is all that and more. It's significantly bigger, and goes into more detail on a lot of the medical aspects, complications and post-birth tips. It's more clinical than What to Expect, with a slightly more formal tone and no funny business (WtE has fun sidebars now and then). One feature that I really like, in addition to the extra information, is charts for every month showing possible worrying symptoms and when to tell your doctor: wait til the next visit, call the next day or get on the phone ASAP.
Overall, either book is excellent and both cover all the basics. If you're expecting a normal pregnancy and don't have many risk factors, What to Expect is probably all you'll need, but if you're interested in the medicine and details, Mayo Clinic may be a better choice. I will say that because it has a more colloquial tone, What to Expect asked and answered a few questions that I'd never quite put words to, but Mayo Clinic didn't really address.
Finished!
That's not quite the same relief I felt on finishing the Tales of the Otori series, which was a release from a tale that had become somewhat tedious and slogging. Finishing the Twilight series was more like getting to the end of a particularly terrifying zip line--it was exhilarating, crazy, and impossible to escape, but in the end, great to have your feet on the ground again.
This massive final volume is actually broken into three books, a change of format from the other three, which were one book each. It's a little discordant, and I wonder if Meyer was caught unaware by her success and ran overboard, trying to up the ante to something more epic. One example of this is when she used a quote from Empire, a recent military thriller by Orson Scott Card, to open a new section. I can't fault her taste in literature, OSC is one of my favorite authors, but for me the quote was not only jarring (I'd just finished reading Empire), but inappropriate. The conflicts in the two books are of different scales and different focus, and it feels like Meyer is trying to borrow gravitas. On the other hand, the three-book format gives us a nice long escape from Bella's head when the second book is narrated by Jacob. This is very welcome, so I'm not going to complain too much.
Meyer reminds me a bit of the fantasy author R.A. Salvatore. They both tell engaging stories that capture the imagination and create memorable, fun characters. And they both have serious failings in the prose and dialogue department.
One more rant, and then I'll let it rest: I heard a rumor that for Meyer's next book, she was working on a point-of-view switch, where she told her original story from another character's point of view. Okay, so she's an Orson Scott Card fan, and that worked really well for him in Ender's Shadow. So I was thinking, what would be a good character for a retelling of this series? It should be someone who can give us angles we've never seen, and expand the universe and the complexity of the story, so probably not a main character. I decided that Leah, the only female werewolf, would be a perfect fit. The werewolves are an enigmatic group, there's a lot going on in the background that we don't see. Plus, as traditional opposites, they're every bit as cool as the vampires are lame. And Leah's got a personal tragedy that's only halfway resolved by the end of the series. She's also one of the few characters that isn't happily paired up with someone by the end of the series, and she's deliciously nasty to everyone--she'd be perfect. I was quite looking forward to another take on the series from her point of view, and then I found out who the second point of view character actually was.
Edward. The guy who's been there throughout the entire series? The guy who's gone to painful lengths to tell us exactly how he feels about everything, especially Bella? Yeah, that guy :-p And that's probably a good way to sum up the series.
On the surface, The Lovely Bones sounds like it's going to be a very depressing book; thirteen year old Suzie Salmon is raped and murdered, and watches her family from the afterlife. And while the first part of the book is just as bad as you'd imagine with that premise, it grows into a beautiful story as her family rebuilds (eventually, and mostly) from the tragedy.
I'd heard the title of the book bounced around for a long time before I actually read it, and it well deserves the popularity. It's essentially a book about people; the characters are correspondingly well developed, and their individual stories are lovingly and compassionately told.
One thing that I had fun with in the book was comparing Sebold's version of the afterlife with C.S. Lewis' from The Great Divorce. (Minor spoiler warning) In his version, purgatory and hell are the same place, a gray dreary zone where you can have any material possession you want simply by wishing for it, but where nothing material brings joy. In Lovely Bones, Suzie's personal heaven is like a more cheerful version of Lewis' purgatory -- bright and cheerful, where you can make anything happen simply by desiring it. But Suzie's real desire is for her family, and the joys of her personal heaven seem to be only pleasant distractions. I thought the similarities between a Christian's fiction of purgatory/hell and a secularist's fiction of heaven were interesting, but kind of sad for Suzie.
It isn't until much later in the book that we learn Suzie's personal "heaven" is not the final destination--only a stopping place for her to heal and develop before she can join her grandparents and (we assume) all the other souls in 'true heaven'. That revelation in the story brought tears to my eyes. It was beautiful, a vision of purgatory (even though the word was never used and probably wasn't intended, that's exactly what was going on) that didn't revolve around the punitive, dark version so often imagined, but is based on healing and cleansing for a soul before reaching its final destination.
End theological aside
Anyway, a very good book, highly recommended!
Still reading Twilight :-p Not too much new to comment on for this one, other than a further observation on what's appealing about the books: the series is essentially a fanfiction of itself. (I feel like the term incestuous applies here, but in the interests of making this a quick post, won't try too hard to work it in)
This volume in particular seems to be extremely indulgent with its readers; every scene you want to see, every exchange between the romantic rivals, every vindictive, humorous, and romantic element is fully drawn out, sometimes painfully so, in a way that's usually only found when fans run wild with their favorite characters. Maybe that's common in the modern romance novel? Or is it unique to this series? Do I care enough to do the research myself? No. :-p
I don't know if I've ever read a Dickens novel that I didn't like, and Nicholas Nickleby is no exception. It's Dicken's third novel and has a much more continuous, cohesive story than Pickwick Papers, but it isn't quite as funny or light-hearted. If you're trying Dickens for the first time, I'd say this isn't a bad place to start.
I'd love to write more, but my backlog of reviews is growing, so these next few are going to be pretty short :-/
Continuing with the Twilight series, I'd say this second book is a actually a tiny bit better than the first, but still continues the original's fine traditions of melodrama and the tone of a dime-store romance novel. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure that the advantage is due to Edward's disappearance for about 75% of the book, a happy coincidence that is unlikely to occur again in the series. To be fair, Edward himself isn't quite that bad, but Bella's constant gushing and mooning is.
So, if all I'm going to do is complain about how bad these books are, why do I bother reading them at all? That's the frustrating part: despite the horrible writing and painful romance scenes, I found myself looking forward to this book, and once started, it was hard to put down. That in itself leads a secondary motive for continuing--trying to figure out what causes this effect. I feel like I'm watching both myself and the books under a microscope the whole time, trying to dissect the magic that's made them so popular.
I have noticed a few things. For starters, the non-romantic dialogue can be quite amusing from time to time, not just the so-bad-its-funny stuff. Also, Meyer really knows how to build up a scene: you'll know what's going to happen, and you'll be looking forward to it (or dreading it, sometimes), but she plays the anticipation game, drawing it out and putting you on the edge of your seat. The werewolf/vampire contrast makes things kind of interesting too, and several of the characters tend to grow on you after awhile.
Lookit me, I finally said some nice things about the series!
This book was another one that I picked up used because it was a title I'd never heard from a famous author. I loved Kipling's stories while I was growing up, and although The Light that Failed is very different from his adventure stories, Kipling's captivating storytelling and compelling voice comes through in full force.
The story is a romance between a young war correspondent who returns to England to find that the artwork he'd been sending home for the last few years has received moderate fame, and his childhood sweetheart who is herself an aspiring artist.
I made the mistake of looking the novel up on Wikipedia before I'd finished it, and reading the plot synopsis of an old movie adaptation. The ending described by the article was even more depressing than the book's title had lead me to expect, so I picked up the novel to finish with a heavy heart. Luckily, however, the book's ending was, although similar to the movie, much less depressing and more uplifting, so that'll teach me to wander around Wikipedia with more caution.
Overall, a very enjoyable little novel that I'd recommend to anyone with a fondness for Kipling.
Finally finished! Its kind of sad when that's the first impression I have of finishing a series. But that's honestly about right. By the fifth book the beauty and novelty of the setting has begun to lose its effect, and as I discovered awhile ago, the story isn't particularly interesting and the characters tend heavily towards annoying.
Although I appreciate that Lian Hearn gives her Hero the full classical/archetypal treatment, I think I've realized why Takeo in particular is such an annoying character. He's basically a perfect 21st century man, with social, mental, and moral outlooks and attitudes that are extremely modern. He'd be a paragon of politically correct virtue in any book set in the 21st century, but is jarringly out of place in feudal Japan, even fantasy feudal 'not-really-Japan-at-all-we-promise'.
To be fair, his rather unique upbringing gives him good reason to hold views that do not match his time, but it just seems all too convenient and contrived. * shrug * Maybe that was the whole point of the book, and I'd be more forgiving if those coincidentally modern morals aligned more closely with my own. Any dissenting opinions are welcome :-p
Yep, I did it. I finally gave in and read the latest fangirl craze that's spawning all the vampire-themed novels, movies and TV shows. Despite the tepid to horrified reviews I'd heard, despite the fact that I've always considered vampire stuff to be rather silly, and despite the creep-out factor I get every time Robert Pattinson shows up on posters and magazine covers, I gave it a try.
Somewhat to my surprise, therefore, Twilight wasn't quite as painful as I expected. Granted, that was partially because it was often so bad that it broke through to hilarious. But not completely.
The story itself isn't bad at all, good enough to have me looking forward to the next book. It's cliched, of course, but stories become cliche for a reason. The secondary characters are well done, and I might even like the two main characters if they weren't so cursed annoying.
Unfortunately, the core of an engaging world and a decent story is destroyed by terrible, horrible, no-good prose and narrative voice. I blame a very large part of this on the first-person point of view. First of all, the main effect of a brooding Byronic hero is destroyed when you only see him from his lover's point of view--Bella only see the good in Edward, which is as it should be. The reader is supposed to see the torment, angst and eventual triumph of good over evil or whatever, but because we only see through Bella's eyes, there's no real development of the duality. Second, you can tell us that Edward is a very good looking guy the first time we meet him, and then maybe once more as the relationship really gets going, but after that we'll remember, I promise. You don't have to remind us in every single paragraph for the remainder of the book. And finally, if you're going to build up to a dramatic rescue and crazy vampire fight as the climax of the book, don't make your only POV character unconscious for the vast majority of it. That was a big disappointment >_<
I could go on, but as I mentioned earlier I liked the book enough to continue the series, so there's really no point in picking it apart bit by bit. One more thing I'd like to share though--one of those so-bad-it's-funny moments:
Ever since these books have hit it big, I've been seeing derrogatory references to "sparkly" vampires--often comparing the Twilight variety to the real bad-boys of modern vampire lore. I just assumed that it was just a way of saying that the Twilight brand were wussy little vampires, too pretty and sweet to deserve the name. Nope, silly me :-p Meyer's vampires quite literally sparkle in the sunlight, as if they had crystalline skin o_O
Really? Sparkles?
So, the full title is Cesar's Way: The Natural, Commonsense Guide to Understanding and Correcting All Common Dog Problems by Cesar Millan, Melissa Jo Peltier and John H. Mayer, but that wouldn't all fit in the title line.
We recently adopted a new puppy to be a playmate for our first dog, and I figured that with so many furry bodies around, it wouldn't be a bad idea to read up on them.
Gratuitous puppy pictures! For those of you who haven't seen Cesar's show Dog Whisperer on TV (and I've only seen a few episodes myself), Cesar is very, very good at working with dogs, fixing their "issues" and retraining the humans that gave them those issues in the first place. His life story, which takes up the first few chapters, is a good enough read in the first place--grew up on his grandfather's farm, watching and learning from the working dogs there. And we're not talking well trained, expensive purebred sheep dogs here, we're talking mongrel mutts that learned how to coexist and be useful in order to earn their spot on the farm.
Cesar's way is not easy, but it's well-reasoned and sensible. The main claim is that a happy dog knows his position in the pack, and that the only proper position is that of follower--the human must be a pack leader at all times and in all situations. His prescription for a balanced dog is excercise, discipline and affection, in that order. So that's lots and lots of excersise, a good heap of discipline, and affection only at the proper times. He recommends, at a minimum, 1.5 hours of walking every day, 1 hour in the morning and at least half an hour in the evening. You're only allowed to show affection at certain times, and must refrain from showing it at the wrong times. This amounts to a tall order! Fortunately, I'm lucky enough to have two wonderful dogs that are fairly laid back and submissive to start with, so hopefully half an hour most days is enough. (sorry puppies!)
However, the importance of regularly walking your dog and the ability to claim the pack leader position are two lessons I walked away with, and I'm fairly confident that all dog owners would benefit from reading Cesar's insights, even if they can't go all the way.
I read this book almost a year ago, back when I was actually posting, but I've got it queued, so here goes:
I tend to associate Jack London with icy cold settings and dogs (whether White Fang or The Sea Wolf, there's still plenty of cold + dog connotation), but it turns out he traveled and wrote about the sunny south as well. (No dogs in these either, for what it's worth) Not that the stories are any less brutal than his northern tales, but the change of scene and the cultural backdrop is refreshing.
I remember the stories being somewhat hit and miss, some were very good and interesting, while others were just . . . strange. Expect difficult subjects that might get you banned from the local high school such as slavery, other forms of exploitation and violence. However, London is known for moving past the "Noble Savage" stereotype to show all people as individuals, and these stories are prime examples.
Hi!
Okay, reeeeally long break there, I actually gave up on posting for awhile. :-p In between moving back to Texas, buying and moving into a new house, and adopting a pair of adorable dogs, I haven't had much time to angst over postings.
And that was the problem really :-p I'm thinking that I might just keep this blog as a record of what I'm reading, instead of trying to do in-depth reviews of everything, and taking forever to actually post.
So, here's my two latest reads:
The Wall and the Wing by Laura Ruby, read by Renée Raudman
A kid's book that I picked up because I found the audiobook for ridiculously cheap, along with a handful of the Narnia audiobooks. It takes place in an un-named city (*cough* New York *cough*) where people can . . . fly? Except for the main character, an orphan girl, who then discovers that she can turn herself invisible. Adventure ensues.
It's good fun, once you get past a big dose of weirdness and the narrator's over-the-top voices, but better for kids than for adults that just have fun with kid-lit, imho.
Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
I mostly tackled this one to earn another feather in my literary cap, and it turned out to be enjoyable, although a little slow from time to time. The edition (can't find the narrator, but it was Blackstone Audio) was quite good, it even cut out the two prose tales that were supposedly the most mind-numbingly boring of the whole lot.
I remember reviewing Canterbury Tales in junior high; we just learned about Chaucer, the basic premise of the work, and it's historical significance. I walked away with the impression that we didn't actually read any of the stories because they were a) too hard and b) too long. Turns out that it was actually because several of the tales were nowhere near suitable for a junior high class ^o^ Scandalous stuff!
That's all I've got for now, lets see if I can keep this up!
Gasp, I actually managed a post! I guess in the whole hubbub of the holidays I lost the rythm, and since we'll be moving back to Texas in about a month, I'll probably lose it again soon. So, no promises as to regular posting, but I'll try!
I first read this book about ten years ago, before I was an Orson Scott Card fan. At the time I was slightly uneasy with the book's apparent religion = bad, magic = good conflict and not quite sure where it was going in that vein, so I didn't go out of my way to pursue the series any further. Now that I'm a big fan of Card and more familiar with his personal philosophy, I'm not at all worried that it'll turn into something like His Dark Materials.
Overview
Seventh Son is the first book in the Alvin Maker series, which takes place in an alternate-universe colonial America. In this world a large number of colonists possess 'knacks' or minor magical skills that earned them heavy prosecution in a puritan England. These include everything from the inborn ability to dowse or start fires to a skillful use of hexes and charms. The time is roughly equivalent to 5-10 years after the Revolutionary War, and anyone with a basic knowledge of American history will run into plenty of vaugely familar names, places and events.
Into the mostly-untamed wilderness of the Susquehanna valley comes Alvin Miller, his pregnant wife and their thirteen, very-soon-to-be fourteen children. We learn that if the coming child is a boy he will not only be the family's fourteenth child, but the seventh son of a seventh son and destined to be a Maker (whatever that is).
I hope it's no spoiler to point out that he is indeed born, and throughout the rest of the book we learn more about this strange alternate world and watch young Alvin as he begins to discover his power, potential, and the great dangers that threaten him.
Recommended for: Fantasy fans of all ages.
Parental worries: One violent death and one very serious injury, along with the aforementioned religious tension (which is less based on theology and more on the personalities involved).
Audiobook comments: Read by a cast, with a different narrator for each character's point of view. The reading is beautiful, and it really helps set the tone for each character. My only complaint is that one character who hails from Scotland only picks up his accent when the point is actually brought up in the story.
Ramblings:
In the book's afterward, Card explains that his original motivation to write the story of Alvin Maker was jealousy of the rich tapestry of myth and legend that England and Europe have inherited over the centuries. In this series he attempts to build a similar backdrop for America, and with the obvious admission that no one man or one work could come close to rivaling centuries worth of legend and mythos, it's off to a pretty impressive start. He paints a vivid, exciting picture of early pioneer life and builds his alternate-history America in tantalizing bits and pieces. (or maybe it just seems that way without the maps that I'm assuming accompany the actual book)
There's something about the phrase "The sword that cut off George Washington's head" that sends a chill down the spine, and Card uses it to great effect. The twisted history has a haunting, bittersweet feeling--there are several changes that we could wish had been part of our real history, and several that we're glad never took place.
Card also has an amazing ability to bring characters to life, and since my early American history is slightly fuzzy, it felt like every other character I met could turn into someone straight out of a history book (either one of our history books or one belonging to the alternate world). Which I guess is another way of saying it manages to pull off the feel of an epic very well :-p
Overview
Our story takes place in an alternate universe Europe where the clothing is vaguely Victorian and the technology is Frankenstein meets Jules Verne. Political power rests in the hands of Sparks, people of extraordinary genius who invent, build and control all of the world's technology (some of which involves biological constructs and completely new races).
In a time briefly before the story begins, Europe was more or less united under the Heterodyne Boys, a pair of adventurous brothers who attained fortune and saved the world at least a couple of times before apparently disappearing, leaving behind fame and a set of legends to rival King Arthur.
The prominence of these enigmatic figures leaves no doubt that they and their legacy will be very important in the story, so it's no surprise to find that our bumbling young heroine Agatha is connected to the Heterodynes. This discovery launches her on a crazy course of adventure, excitement, romance and intrigue.
Recommended for: Adventure, fantasy and comic book fans ^_^ I recommend reading only the completed volumes, because reading the story one page at a time is a little excruciating and tends to highlight weaknesses in the art style. (I don't follow this advice myself, however; every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning finds me obsessively checking the newest page before leaving for work ^_~ )
Parental Warnings: I think the comic is deliberately written at about the PG-13 level. There's plenty of innuendo, a bit of running around in underwear and the occasional 'suggestive' scene along with a hearty (but not excessive) helping of violence.
Ramblings: (Spoiler Threat: Very Low)
I was skeptical of this comic at first--the art style takes a little time to grow on you and the first volume isn't colored, which makes things a bit cluttered. But it didn't take long for me to become completely hooked. The world of Girl Genius is complex, well-fashioned and just familiar enough to tantalize the imagination. The characters are lovable and hilarious, the dialogue is witty and the plot is engaging and rich.
If it sounds like I'm trying to sell something :-p maybe I am. This is the kind of story I'd love to see as a movie or tv series at some point--the comic's pacing and flow makes it seem a natural fit.
But since this is a review, I've got to fit some critiques in here somewhere. Possibly the biggest drawback is the art. It's very effective at illustrating the story and getting its point across, but every now and then the characters are drawn strangely--not very . . . pretty? appealing? I'm not good with art, so that's about the best I can do, sorry :-p
Another drawback is that many of the characters are just barely on the sane side of genius and occasionally make brief forays onto the other side. The mad scientist element is intentional and part of the fun, but sometimes instead of 'mad scientist' the impression is forced and comes off as merely bipolar or hyperdramatic.
But even with these drawbacks, it's still an excelent comic. I highly recommend reading it, and since it's free and available online you have no excuse not to :-p
I've been trying to read up on Norse mythology without being quite sure where to start. My first two attempts from a university library yielded a kind of reference book, with gods and heroes listed in alphabetical order, and the first volume of Jacob Grimm's Teutonic Mythology. The former had plenty of good information, but I was looking for something to read straight through, not a reference book. The later is apparently a very important and influential work on Norse Mythology, but it's a scholarly work, very heavy reading, and not exactly a book for beginners.
I was looking for something lighter than Teutonic Mythology, but more in-depth than D'Aulaires' Book of Norse Myths, which I read back in the 3rd grade. Using a public library this time, I found Sagas of the Norsemen.
Overview
Sagas opens with a bit of archaeological background, pictures of relics, and an account of funeral customs. Then it delves into a description of the pantheon, with a few brief stories of the gods' various adventures and hijinks. The next section describes the provenances summarizes some of the more famous sagas. I didn't know any of them well enough to judge the accuracy of the summaries, but the story-telling left a bit to be desired. The last section of the book describes the cosmology of the Norse world, the creation of the world, and Ragnarok, the end of the world.
Recommended for: Meh, there's got to be better Norse mythology books out there. Sagas is part of a series called Myth and Mankind that covers the mythologies and legends of cultures around the world. They look pretty cool, but if Sagas is a good representation of the series, I probably won't bother with the rest.
Parental worries: The Norse gods and heroes got up to some pretty weird stuff, but this book has a fairly clinical approach. If you'd like to err on the side of caution, check out D'Aulaire's Book of Norse Myths for the young ones (or even the old ones :-p it's been awhile since I read it, but it's probably a better book)
Ramblings:
I always feel bad after giving a book a bad review :-p it may be better than I'm giving it credit for, or maybe I just had the wrong expectations going into it. Sagas approaches mythology from the wrong angle, I think. It doesn't tell a story, doesn't create a world, merely presents the beliefs of a long-dead civilization. For example, who in their right minds puts the creation myth at the end of a book of mythology? It makes no sense! I realize that Norse mythology is nowhere near as well organized as Greek and that it doesn't follow much of a chronology, but that's not much of an excuse. It throws off the whole narrative, to wade into a bevvy of gods, goddesses, and giants with no notion of where they came from, how they're related, etc.
To it's credit, the book does have tons of good pictures and photographs, and the archaeological background is pretty nifty. It also takes the time to discuss the most important sources of information for the myths and sagas it relates, an angle that helps to show the somewhat disjointed nature of Norse mythology.
So, my third attempt turned out to be only slightly better than the first two. Does anyone have other suggestions? I should probably just stop mucking around and just pick up the translated sagas :-p
A couple of years ago this graphic novel was made into a movie starring Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz. I didn't bother seeing the movie when it came out 'cause it looked like the weirdness would outweigh the starpower, but I wasn't quite right. Turns out it's visually stunning, the acting is quite good (insofar as I'm any judge) and although the plot is just as weird as promised, it makes just enough sense to be really good. Good enough that I jumped at the opportunity to read the original graphic novel.
Overview
The plot consists of three different arcs that seem completely random but are eventually all connected. The three stories interweave and float around in time, so you have to wait until halfway through to start piecing things together. The 'central' story takes place in the present, where Tommy Creo, a research oncologist, is racing the clock to find a cure for his wife Izzy's brain cancer. He finds hope in a strange compound from a tree in Central America that promises to have remarkable abilities. Several hundred years earlier, conquistador Tomas Verde, on a mission from his Queen to find the Tree of Life, attacks a Mayan temple in the hope of reaching his goal. And finally, in the year 2463 a man named Tom floats through space in a golden globe on his way to the dying star Xibalba, accompanied by a giant gnarled tree and the ghosts of his past. (Xibalba is the Mayan underworld, and the Mayans actually identified a particular star as the location of their underworld. Turns out it's a dying star :-p Interesting coincidence, huh?)
Surprise surprise, in the movie all three Toms are played by Hugh Jackman, although it took me awhile to recognize him under the Conquistador's beard and the space traveler's shaved head.
Recommended for: I'd recommend the movie to anyone (with the warning that it does require a bit of thought, not a mindless fun flick), but the graphic novel . . . only to artsy types or graphic novel enthusiasts. The art style is so very stylized that it manages to make the story even harder to understand, and I enjoyed the movie much more.
Parental Warnings: Plenty of nudity and an intimate scene or two. The movie is rated PG-13, but it puts clothes on all the nekkid people.
Ramblings (Spoiler Threat: Low)
I am not a fan of the art style in the graphic novel. I'm sure this just shows how uncultured I am, because it's probably supposed to be new and groundbreaking and enlightened, but to me it just looks unpolished and ugly. Having said that, I really like the story. The basic theme is the acceptance of death, and that death is only a path to immortality. This startlingly Christian theme is presented in a secular setting, with no trappings of religion other than those of the long-past Mayans. (Actually, it may be just generically religious/spiritual, more than Christian--I still prefer it to the materialistic, nihilistic vein of so much modern stuff.)
One of the differences between the movie and the graphic novel that sticks out to me is in the characterization of Tomas Verde's Queen Isabel. In both versions she eventually sends her Captain off to find the Tree of Life in an attempt to gain power over the dark forces of the Spanish Inquisition. However, in the graphic novel she originally questions the wisdom of such a move, mentioning that it is a heresy to attempt to gain eternal life. In the movie (if I remember correctly) the head inquisitor makes this point. That's an important switch. It's a valid point, in line with the main theme of the story, and yet putting it in the mouth of the grand inquisitor instead of the queen automatically turns it to ash, because the man liberally uses the accusation of heresy to justify torture and murder. Difference #2 is that while the movie only gives glimpses of the relationship between the Queen and her Captain, allowing the viewer (if they wish) to assume a chaste, courtly love between the two, the graphic novel leaves no room for such naive illusions. This bugs me, not only because I happen to like my naive illusions on this score, but because it presents two conflicting versions of the Queen. Either she's an intelligent ruler who recognizes and tries to avoid heresy when she sees it but is also involved in a sinful and scandalous affair, or she's a chaste but power-hungry and vapid ruler. >_< Why'd they have to split it like that?
