Living off the Land in Space. It conjures biodomes, algae-growing, 'clean' fuels, and a 1970s Original Star Trek view of the infinately hospitable worlds out in the black yonder for us to exploit - er, I meant explore...
Really, how often did you see Kirk in an enviro-suit and oxygen mask whilst cannodling on the surface of Virgos V?
Now, back to the book -
To my slight disappointment, however, there is much more technological discussion, and much less fantastical futuristic musings. Oh well.
Strangely, despite my lack of techie impulses, once I resigned myself to a bit of a slog through the 'hard' side, I did find myself intrigued by the reasoned discussion of various propulsion systems (chem-fuel, ramjets, magnetic-electric tethers, solar sails, ion! drives and more), an explication of the really really really unimaginably vast distances of SPACE (as in roughly 7,000 years - years! worth of travel (at our best modern rates) to reach Alpha Centauri - our nearest stellar neighbor), and a strange little inserted list explaining the levels that ideas, theories, and prototypes all go through before floating off towards our planetary neighbors, handily illustrated by even more interesting types of hardware that most people don't know we're developing.
The book (freely admitted both at beginning and end) is a bit dated, which is both good and bad. Good, because that means that our current levels of space interest are high enough to make this book outdated by the time it hits the presses; bad in that even the casual reader can smile sadly when he comments on the Japanese mission probe "which will return with asteroid samples in June of 2007" ... or not.
Lastly, the neo-hippy vibe of the title does not carry through the book. The exact idea - utilizing resources from space or from our various destinations - is the focus of the book. But - the reason for that focus seems more economic than environmental. There are myriad explanations throughout on the relative efficiency of newer (or less explored) travel options, but not many comments on the lessened environmental impact. And, in a staggering sense of cross-purpose, please note the many casual suggestions about mining the moon and Mars - although not, he does allow, if there is native life.
This juxtaposition was the only real sour note in the book, which was ultimately an entertaining romp through the technologies and theories which will get us into space.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Previously Published Review: Again (Baby Bear), John Prater
John Prater is a genius.
This is my very favorite Baby Bear book, and I use it constantly for library storytimes.
The expressions and body-language of the bears are priceless, and the illustrations are done with soft edges and muted colors, yet they somehow stay vibrant and interesting.
Baby Bear is a handful, and Grandbear (I love that name) just wants to take a nap in his hammock. Baby Bear wants to play!
Poor Grandbear. But like the loving bear that he is, he patiently and tolerantly plays with blocks, in the sandbox, and even gets a chore done. In the end, he ends up happily snoring in his hammock, Baby Bear snuggled alongside.
All of the Baby Bear books are perfect for winding-down storytimes or before bedtime, because there is no drama, no crisis, no fears brought up to be dealt with - they're very positive and sweet.
There are wonderful children's books which do deal with drama or fears, but it's good to have beautiful options on the sedate side as well.
This is my very favorite Baby Bear book, and I use it constantly for library storytimes.
The expressions and body-language of the bears are priceless, and the illustrations are done with soft edges and muted colors, yet they somehow stay vibrant and interesting.
Baby Bear is a handful, and Grandbear (I love that name) just wants to take a nap in his hammock. Baby Bear wants to play!
Poor Grandbear. But like the loving bear that he is, he patiently and tolerantly plays with blocks, in the sandbox, and even gets a chore done. In the end, he ends up happily snoring in his hammock, Baby Bear snuggled alongside.
All of the Baby Bear books are perfect for winding-down storytimes or before bedtime, because there is no drama, no crisis, no fears brought up to be dealt with - they're very positive and sweet.
There are wonderful children's books which do deal with drama or fears, but it's good to have beautiful options on the sedate side as well.
Previously Published Review: Hull Zero Three, Greg Bear
It's so perfect that it almost hurts - the genetic typing has been done, mankind has evolved, friendships and loves have been established, and everyone is ready to leave Ship and descend into the glorious new world we've been traveling towards and preparing for our arrival since - well, that part's a little hazy, but we're still excited!
Except that now the glorious companionship of that arrival dream shatters, and now, all we have is just one poor befuddled Teacher, birthed either too soon or too late, in a place determined to do him in, either by design or through callous indifference to his mal-adapted self. In an even crueller twist of the knife, even the knowledge of the beautiful dream abandons him when survival depends on him learning and growing up fast. Is Teacher a quick study?
Only movement will save him, as structures irradiate, liquefy, or freeze, bulkheads can cut off at any time or place, gravity comes in crushing waves of inconvenience before vanishing again, and horrifying THINGS appear to crush and rend and destroy and kidnap - or perhaps that's only from his perspective. Just enough information can be teased from conflicting memories and sources (perhaps not all to be trusted) to determine that something is NOT RIGHT. Nothing this horrifying and off-balance could be intended to be right.
Finding out what - that may cost Teacher his life.
In a lovely example of sci-fi thriller, we're shoved into a breakneck ethical quest where love and life, memories (human and computer) your most basic emotions, and even your moral code itself aren't exactly what they should be.
As always, the rag-tag crew which assembles itself into our protagonists are kept busy trying to comprehend their mad surroundings, and to figure out just how to handle that most basic human drive - the will to survive.
My own enjoyment of this basic plotline aside, there are several dangling plot threads and niggles of irritation at premises and complications hinted at and dropped, or ideas left undeveloped, or narrative contrivances which are a touch too contrived... As I said, a bit messy.
These are minor flaws in an otherwise quite satisfying return to the author's roots in hard sci-fi.
Except that now the glorious companionship of that arrival dream shatters, and now, all we have is just one poor befuddled Teacher, birthed either too soon or too late, in a place determined to do him in, either by design or through callous indifference to his mal-adapted self. In an even crueller twist of the knife, even the knowledge of the beautiful dream abandons him when survival depends on him learning and growing up fast. Is Teacher a quick study?
Only movement will save him, as structures irradiate, liquefy, or freeze, bulkheads can cut off at any time or place, gravity comes in crushing waves of inconvenience before vanishing again, and horrifying THINGS appear to crush and rend and destroy and kidnap - or perhaps that's only from his perspective. Just enough information can be teased from conflicting memories and sources (perhaps not all to be trusted) to determine that something is NOT RIGHT. Nothing this horrifying and off-balance could be intended to be right.
Finding out what - that may cost Teacher his life.
In a lovely example of sci-fi thriller, we're shoved into a breakneck ethical quest where love and life, memories (human and computer) your most basic emotions, and even your moral code itself aren't exactly what they should be.
As always, the rag-tag crew which assembles itself into our protagonists are kept busy trying to comprehend their mad surroundings, and to figure out just how to handle that most basic human drive - the will to survive.
My own enjoyment of this basic plotline aside, there are several dangling plot threads and niggles of irritation at premises and complications hinted at and dropped, or ideas left undeveloped, or narrative contrivances which are a touch too contrived... As I said, a bit messy.
These are minor flaws in an otherwise quite satisfying return to the author's roots in hard sci-fi.
Previously Published Review: (Graphic Novel) Storm Front Volume 2, Jim Butcher, Ardian Syaf, Brett Booth
This is the second half of the hardcover compilation of the comic adaptation of the first novel of the Dresden Files, Storm Front, created by Jim Butcher (e'way are not orthy'way), adapted by Mark Powers, and illustrated in sequence by Ardian Syaf (through about the halfway mark of Issue 2 of this volume) and then picked up expertly by Brett Booth (although sadly, we aren't allowed to get too used to him either, as he'll be replaced at the beginning of Fool Moon by a new artist, Chase Conley.)
Did you get all that?
So, if you're considering this graphic novel for your reading pleasure, I would highly suggest picking up the first half (otherwise you'll be a little confused, and miss some great artwork) titled Storm Front: The Gathering Storm. I also suggest going a little further back in the chronology and picking up Welcome to the Jungle, which is a very nice piece of work as well.
Now, on to the actual review.
The story isn't Butcher's best, but it was good enough to get the Dresden Files going (and at book 14 out in July, that's no small feat) and to me at least, this particular story seems tighter and better suited to graphic novel form than to an actual novel. As (almost) a librarian and someone who reads at a frantic pace, that's a big admission to make.
Powers does an amazing job of keeping the characters, the snark, the one-liners, and the noir feel of the novel, while paring it down to the bare bones, and they're some pretty good bones. The baddies are bad, the women are cliched (necessary to the genre) without being wince-worthy, the magical ju-ju is creepy, and the pace builds strongly to the ending, closing out solidly (none of this cliffhanger crap here, but there is an inked teaser for Fool Moon, the next in the series).
The artwork is lovely. I enjoy Syaf's compositions and creatures more, but Booth's interpretation of Harry's and Murphy's faces (and Mac, oddly enough) make me really feel for them as characters. Something about Harry's eyes and that vulnerable heart-shaped face really helps position him as not quite as magically bad-ass as he desperately wants you to believe. I can SEE this Harry being panicked, being worried, being afraid.
I have to say, I'll be sorry to see that go so quickly, but the teaser at the end reassures me that Conley has his own very appropriate interpretation for the hand-off, and it's one that I don't think I'll dislike. Thankfully, each of the subsequent artists has hewn close to the original character idea and the dark, gritty environmental feel visioned by Syaf, so even in the transitions between artists, nothing like the horrors of the "Restoration of Faith" short are in evidence.
I have been anguishing for ages over the much-delayed and many-times imperiled release date of this concluding hardback, but that is entirely due to circumstances beyond any of the artists' controls. I am VERY happy to see this finally out, and to clutch it protectively to my heart. This one's MINE - go get your own copy!
Did you get all that?
So, if you're considering this graphic novel for your reading pleasure, I would highly suggest picking up the first half (otherwise you'll be a little confused, and miss some great artwork) titled Storm Front: The Gathering Storm. I also suggest going a little further back in the chronology and picking up Welcome to the Jungle, which is a very nice piece of work as well.
Now, on to the actual review.
The story isn't Butcher's best, but it was good enough to get the Dresden Files going (and at book 14 out in July, that's no small feat) and to me at least, this particular story seems tighter and better suited to graphic novel form than to an actual novel. As (almost) a librarian and someone who reads at a frantic pace, that's a big admission to make.
Powers does an amazing job of keeping the characters, the snark, the one-liners, and the noir feel of the novel, while paring it down to the bare bones, and they're some pretty good bones. The baddies are bad, the women are cliched (necessary to the genre) without being wince-worthy, the magical ju-ju is creepy, and the pace builds strongly to the ending, closing out solidly (none of this cliffhanger crap here, but there is an inked teaser for Fool Moon, the next in the series).
The artwork is lovely. I enjoy Syaf's compositions and creatures more, but Booth's interpretation of Harry's and Murphy's faces (and Mac, oddly enough) make me really feel for them as characters. Something about Harry's eyes and that vulnerable heart-shaped face really helps position him as not quite as magically bad-ass as he desperately wants you to believe. I can SEE this Harry being panicked, being worried, being afraid.
I have to say, I'll be sorry to see that go so quickly, but the teaser at the end reassures me that Conley has his own very appropriate interpretation for the hand-off, and it's one that I don't think I'll dislike. Thankfully, each of the subsequent artists has hewn close to the original character idea and the dark, gritty environmental feel visioned by Syaf, so even in the transitions between artists, nothing like the horrors of the "Restoration of Faith" short are in evidence.
I have been anguishing for ages over the much-delayed and many-times imperiled release date of this concluding hardback, but that is entirely due to circumstances beyond any of the artists' controls. I am VERY happy to see this finally out, and to clutch it protectively to my heart. This one's MINE - go get your own copy!
Previously Published Review: This Time of Darkness, H.M. Hoover
I'll begin by stating that I was unfortunate as a child to never run across this particular author. As an adult, I have so far read Children/Treasures of Morrow, Orvis, and This Time of Darkness. I have to say, all of them are fun reads, and if I HAD read them as a child, would unreservedly have rated them all as 5s, and been quite enthusiastic about the ideas, characters, and plots presented.
Coming to them as an adult, I notice a lot of little things that I wouldn't have noticed or cared about as a child. (There will be spoilers below, but nothing directly concerning the plot - simply to give examples.)
Several of these little things are contradictions in the maturity level of the intended readers. On the low-maturity end, there is very little exposition or explanation for the state of reality as it is presented. Every physical area gone through is accepted as-is, with no questions or commentary on their history, future, or relatedness to the other areas. While it is appropriate for the characters to not know, as a reader, I wanted to have a bit more background information on what they were seeing and experiencing. Limiting the information by simply hinting at past conflicts makes those places seem more juvenile and safe. In addition to that blandness, the relationship between the leads is strictly platonic, placing it securely into lower-middle-school range.
Contrast that with high-maturity flashes such as the following: Amy's mother wants her gone so that she can have a live-in-boyfriend, people who break even minor rules are straightforwardly assigned to torture in the form of 'treatments' which leave them mentally handicapped, a fellow-student is described as so bright that he was bored in school and spent his time "playing with himself until he was fixed." Now, perhaps I have too many pets, but there's only one thing I see that particular phrase referring to, and it's a little jarring to come across in the middle of an ostensibly middle-school read.
Other slight hangups are in the suspension of disbelief. Several times, events unfold in statistically unlikely ways to pave an easier way for the leads, or to present events and/or concepts for them to ponder. While pondering is well and good, I would have preferred a less heavy-handed method to allow the children to arrive at the same ideas. In a similar vein, having the children put a bit more of their own effort and ingenuity into the actual attempt would have made their adventures a bit more dramatic and purposeful.
Now, despite the above nitpicks, overall this was a highly enjoyable read, and I'm holding on to it to offer as a recommended read for any budding sci-fi, futurist, or dystopian literature fans.
Brief Plot Description: Amy lives in the sealed world with everyone else, including crazies who live on the sidewalks. Space is tight, food and water are scarce and bad, and people are controlled through drugs, media overload, and conditioning. When a boy appears who claims that there is a world outside, everyone thinks he's crazy. Amy gives him a chance, and they make their way up and out: first into a domed pleasure world for the elite, and eventually into the agrarian post-apocalyptic world of the unprotected outdoors where the boy is from.
Coming to them as an adult, I notice a lot of little things that I wouldn't have noticed or cared about as a child. (There will be spoilers below, but nothing directly concerning the plot - simply to give examples.)
Several of these little things are contradictions in the maturity level of the intended readers. On the low-maturity end, there is very little exposition or explanation for the state of reality as it is presented. Every physical area gone through is accepted as-is, with no questions or commentary on their history, future, or relatedness to the other areas. While it is appropriate for the characters to not know, as a reader, I wanted to have a bit more background information on what they were seeing and experiencing. Limiting the information by simply hinting at past conflicts makes those places seem more juvenile and safe. In addition to that blandness, the relationship between the leads is strictly platonic, placing it securely into lower-middle-school range.
Contrast that with high-maturity flashes such as the following: Amy's mother wants her gone so that she can have a live-in-boyfriend, people who break even minor rules are straightforwardly assigned to torture in the form of 'treatments' which leave them mentally handicapped, a fellow-student is described as so bright that he was bored in school and spent his time "playing with himself until he was fixed." Now, perhaps I have too many pets, but there's only one thing I see that particular phrase referring to, and it's a little jarring to come across in the middle of an ostensibly middle-school read.
Other slight hangups are in the suspension of disbelief. Several times, events unfold in statistically unlikely ways to pave an easier way for the leads, or to present events and/or concepts for them to ponder. While pondering is well and good, I would have preferred a less heavy-handed method to allow the children to arrive at the same ideas. In a similar vein, having the children put a bit more of their own effort and ingenuity into the actual attempt would have made their adventures a bit more dramatic and purposeful.
Now, despite the above nitpicks, overall this was a highly enjoyable read, and I'm holding on to it to offer as a recommended read for any budding sci-fi, futurist, or dystopian literature fans.
Brief Plot Description: Amy lives in the sealed world with everyone else, including crazies who live on the sidewalks. Space is tight, food and water are scarce and bad, and people are controlled through drugs, media overload, and conditioning. When a boy appears who claims that there is a world outside, everyone thinks he's crazy. Amy gives him a chance, and they make their way up and out: first into a domed pleasure world for the elite, and eventually into the agrarian post-apocalyptic world of the unprotected outdoors where the boy is from.
Previously Published Review: The Multiplying Glass, Ann Phillips
Pre-teen English girl Elizabeth (no nicknames please) is on vacation with her grandparents and their annoying and overly spoiled lapdog for the summer. It has been raining nearly non-stop, and so Elizabeth takes refuge in the storeroom of a neighbor's junk shop.
There in the back, she finds a tri-fold mirror, and when she looks in, the reflections in the side panels aren't quite her. When one winks at her, she begins an adventure with her two shadow-people, Liza and Liz. One is proper and dutiful (and a little snobby and stuck-up) and the other is a little hellion, demanding and childish, but also playful and fun.
Elizabeth isn't the only one who knows about the mirror's shadow people, and she soon meets and befriends a few neighbor children.
When everything goes horribly wrong (as it usually does in these sorts of tales) her new friends are there for her, and Elizabeth learns that the shadowy parts of our selves, the ones we keep hidden away, usually aren't the nice parts.
This may be a book that you remember from your childhood. Some scenes which stuck out to me when re-reading:
Elizabeth, Liza, and Liz dancing in the storeroom.
The playacting with Robin and Elizabeth, and all their shadows.
The "grotto" in the cellar.
Petsy, the spoiled and grumpy lapdog.
Elizabeth dancing in the Shakespeare play, with Robin playing the fool as Puck.
Ups and Downs:
Ups:
Quick pacing, clear narration (not always easy with two sets of three incarnations of narrators), interesting and individual characters, really nifty storyline idea.
Downs:
A little too hazy for my tastes on the specifics of the shadow-people as well as a bit sloppy in following the established "rules" for their interactions with the world. As a minor downside, there were several side-plots established for their contribution to the main plot, and then dropped like a hot rock afterwards - I would have liked to see a little completion in those plots as well.
There in the back, she finds a tri-fold mirror, and when she looks in, the reflections in the side panels aren't quite her. When one winks at her, she begins an adventure with her two shadow-people, Liza and Liz. One is proper and dutiful (and a little snobby and stuck-up) and the other is a little hellion, demanding and childish, but also playful and fun.
Elizabeth isn't the only one who knows about the mirror's shadow people, and she soon meets and befriends a few neighbor children.
When everything goes horribly wrong (as it usually does in these sorts of tales) her new friends are there for her, and Elizabeth learns that the shadowy parts of our selves, the ones we keep hidden away, usually aren't the nice parts.
This may be a book that you remember from your childhood. Some scenes which stuck out to me when re-reading:
Elizabeth, Liza, and Liz dancing in the storeroom.
The playacting with Robin and Elizabeth, and all their shadows.
The "grotto" in the cellar.
Petsy, the spoiled and grumpy lapdog.
Elizabeth dancing in the Shakespeare play, with Robin playing the fool as Puck.
Ups and Downs:
Ups:
Quick pacing, clear narration (not always easy with two sets of three incarnations of narrators), interesting and individual characters, really nifty storyline idea.
Downs:
A little too hazy for my tastes on the specifics of the shadow-people as well as a bit sloppy in following the established "rules" for their interactions with the world. As a minor downside, there were several side-plots established for their contribution to the main plot, and then dropped like a hot rock afterwards - I would have liked to see a little completion in those plots as well.
Previously Published Review: The Lost Children, Carolyn Cohagen
I want to begin by saying that I'm fairly sure this book suffered from 'first book syndrome,' characterized by what I like to call the "everything and the kitchen sink" school of plotting.
I almost could see the checklist getting ticked off.
Cold and humorless (and therefore mysterious) father figure? Check.
Timid but secretly spunky heroine? Check.
Space-time convolutions? Check.
Mean caretaker women/witch characters? Check.
Creepy children? Doublecheck.
Useless adults? Triplecheck.
That established, it was a decent first attempt, and a fun read. I'm currently trying to not think too closely about the ending, which, like all space-time-convolution stories, doesn't really hold up well when thought about closely. There are also some characterization choices right at the end that don't quite match the characters as we have come to know them through the book. (Slightly more irritating, those character choices, while useful to the angst of the heroine throughout the tale, could have been exised and replaced with very little difficulty, making it all the more jarring to encounter.)
Basic idea: Josephine is a half-orphan, and her father is so distant that she may as well be a real one. She gets new gloves once a week, but can't remember what his voice sounds like. One day, a small boy appears, and whisks her off to a place where children are endangered by magical beasts, and all the adults are powerless to help them. Josephine, Fargus (the little boy she meets), and their friend Ida all quest through this new world to salvage what they can of their own families, and those of the other lost children.
There are some gruesome stories of families murdered or dragged off while the child is hiding and watching, and the villain is quite suprisingly evil. Maybe not a good choice for bedtime stories.
The monsters are fairly terrifying of themselves, but even worse, they are associated with burying children alive in deep holes, and then 'electrocuting' their energy out of them. The burying parts and the electrocution parts are fairly detailed, and pretty creepy.
Only three of the adults in the whole story redeem themselves in any way from passively letting their children be taken into slavery to secure their own continued safety. This is blatantly discussed. Kids with issues about abandonment or separation anxiety may not deal well with this.
Everything ends up extremely neat and pat, with amazing rescues and nice twists of fate for the baddies, but oddly enough, the nice neat "and they all lived happily ever after" for the supporting cast is so cheery and quickly brushed over that it's easily overlooked, while the main characters (we learn at the end) actually have horrible lives, and we don't even find out all the details thereof.
The overall feel is very old-school Grimms fairy tales (the unexpurgated ones) where simply being good and trying to do right doesn't actually mean that everything comes out ok in the end. If you or your kid want a fairy-story with a traditional happily-ever-after ending, you may want to hold off on this one.
I almost could see the checklist getting ticked off.
Cold and humorless (and therefore mysterious) father figure? Check.
Timid but secretly spunky heroine? Check.
Space-time convolutions? Check.
Mean caretaker women/witch characters? Check.
Creepy children? Doublecheck.
Useless adults? Triplecheck.
That established, it was a decent first attempt, and a fun read. I'm currently trying to not think too closely about the ending, which, like all space-time-convolution stories, doesn't really hold up well when thought about closely. There are also some characterization choices right at the end that don't quite match the characters as we have come to know them through the book. (Slightly more irritating, those character choices, while useful to the angst of the heroine throughout the tale, could have been exised and replaced with very little difficulty, making it all the more jarring to encounter.)
Basic idea: Josephine is a half-orphan, and her father is so distant that she may as well be a real one. She gets new gloves once a week, but can't remember what his voice sounds like. One day, a small boy appears, and whisks her off to a place where children are endangered by magical beasts, and all the adults are powerless to help them. Josephine, Fargus (the little boy she meets), and their friend Ida all quest through this new world to salvage what they can of their own families, and those of the other lost children.
There are some gruesome stories of families murdered or dragged off while the child is hiding and watching, and the villain is quite suprisingly evil. Maybe not a good choice for bedtime stories.
The monsters are fairly terrifying of themselves, but even worse, they are associated with burying children alive in deep holes, and then 'electrocuting' their energy out of them. The burying parts and the electrocution parts are fairly detailed, and pretty creepy.
Only three of the adults in the whole story redeem themselves in any way from passively letting their children be taken into slavery to secure their own continued safety. This is blatantly discussed. Kids with issues about abandonment or separation anxiety may not deal well with this.
Everything ends up extremely neat and pat, with amazing rescues and nice twists of fate for the baddies, but oddly enough, the nice neat "and they all lived happily ever after" for the supporting cast is so cheery and quickly brushed over that it's easily overlooked, while the main characters (we learn at the end) actually have horrible lives, and we don't even find out all the details thereof.
The overall feel is very old-school Grimms fairy tales (the unexpurgated ones) where simply being good and trying to do right doesn't actually mean that everything comes out ok in the end. If you or your kid want a fairy-story with a traditional happily-ever-after ending, you may want to hold off on this one.
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