Written in the 30s, during the depths of the Depression, before World War II, this dystopian classic paints a grim picture of America’s fall into it’s own flavor of fascism. Some of his assertions stretched my belief nearly to the breaking point, most notable being the seemingly easy evaporation of two of our three branches of government after the League of Forgotten Men rise in power and seize the executive branch.
The novel follows the life of Jessup Doremus, an elderly (nearly retirement age) editor of a small town Vermont newspaper, uniquely positioned to lead us down the slippery slope of disappearing civil liberties and rising paranoia among the citizenry. The evils promulgated by petty near-thugs upon strangers, neighbors, friends and family … almost indiscriminately … all as an exercise in absolute power (as far as I could tell).
Not a comforting read, except for a brief glimpse of hope at the end. I can understand the shock value it would have had when it was published. I’m glad I read it, and even more glad none of it has proved prophetic for America … yet.
I read this novel as one of the suggested readings for my local library’s adult winter reading program called ‘Altered States’ and blogged about my reading journey.
I struggled a bit with PKD’s prose, which at times staggered about like an alcoholic or drug addict and/or a mentally ill person rambling about their innermost incoherent thoughts. But an occasional brilliance burst through the befuddlement to guide me back if I strayed too far off course.
Written almost twenty years after World War II, PKD presents us with an America divided up as spoils of war between the Japanese Empire and Nazi Germany. He portrayed a believable view of American life under two fascist regimes. I surprised myself by feeling empathy not only for the victimized Americans (including Jews hunted to extinction, Blacks reduced to slaves, and other insidious persecutions of non-Aryan races), but also the Japanese, some of whom begin to see the writing on the wall.
I couldn’t help but compare the Oracle (aka as the I Ching or Book of Changes) to the Cosmological Interventionists represented by two out-of-control orphaned Blitz children in Willis’ Blackout/All Clear. It’s a stretch, but the conclusion of both novels left me with the same intriguing warm fuzzy feeling.
I read this novel as one of the suggested readings for my local library’s adult winter reading program called ‘Altered States’ and blogged about my reading journey.
I admit to a science fiction reader shortcoming: I love to watch science fiction, but usually don’t care to read it, especially the sub-genre of ‘hard science fiction.’
And to be completely honest, I thought I gave myself a migraine reading the first pages of Dragon’s Egg (an astrophysics crash course in neutron stars). Once past the cold hard super-heavy facts, I thoroughly enjoyed the development of the cheela life-form and the brief interaction the human scientists experienced.
I completely sympathized with the crew of the Dragon Slayer not wanting to blink, let alone sleep, as they watched the astonishing development of cheela society. In just a few hours, the cheela civilization went from ‘savages, stagnating in an illiterate haze’ to outpacing human development by ‘many thousands of years.’ Relatively speaking, of course.
I didn’t connect to any one particular cheela, since their lifespans were so short in human terms, nor with any of the scientists, who got the short-end of the stick when it came to their story-line. But my eyes teared up reading a farewell delivered by a cheela robot to the human scientists, a fitting benediction to a benevolent mutually beneficial first contact interaction.
Recommended for all fans of science fiction, first contact stories and hard sci-fi novels.
Libraries are one of the last true commons in modern life, celebrating and championing the right to read and freedom of access to information. Stewardship of the written record is integral to our mission. Libraries don’t have a financial stake in the publishing business so much as society has a cultural stake in the future of libraries.
Currently, librarians rely on the First Sale doctrine—which makes it legal to circulate materials we purchase and manage—along with our trustworthiness. We enforce copyright laws as much as we can, teaching our patrons about fair use and piracy.
Another troubling aspect of the HarperCollins message is the attempt to prevent resource sharing, which is a core value for librarians.
Saturday evening, I found myself in the basement under Left Bank Books in downtown St. Louis with several hundred other ‘friends of friends’ waiting for Patrick Rothfuss to speak about Kvothe, Denna, musicianship, spoilers (and appropriate punishments for people who deliver them), poetry, guinea pig abuse and writing advice (using Oot to demonstrate his point).
Patrick Rothfuss Reading at Left Bank Books
Earlier in the afternoon, after Terry and I had drooled over several gorgeous classic muscle cars at Fast Lane in St. Charles, Missouri, we ventured downtown to seek out the best parking options around Left Bank Books. We found a sea of green celebrants overflowing the streets, and most of the street parking discouraged by order of the police for the annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade (five days early). What with the construction, blocked off streets and pseudo-Irish crowds, we aborted our reconnaissance and returned to our motel.
Concerned we might need to take the MetroLink rail, I called Left Bank and asked if the parade and parking situation would clear up before the event. They assured me it shouldn’t be a problem. Terry didn’t think he would do well walking the half mile from the closest rail stop nor standing around the book store for a few hours, so he opted to stay in our room but wouldn’t let me take the rail. So I left extra early in order to find the best parking spot. I lucked out and got a nearly front door spot before 5:30 pm. I fed a dollar’s worth of quarters into the meter (which amounted to one hour’s worth of parking grace) with the intention of getting change for a five when I retrieved my pre-ordered hardcover inside the store.
I picked up my pre-ordered (but completely undiscounted full retail price) copy of Wise Man’s Fear at the counter and asked for change to feed the meter. I learned I didn’t need to pay for parking downtown on Saturdays or Sundays. My signing ticket placed me in the first group, thankfully. I found a quiet corner and read another chapter in Magician: Master while I waited for the basement room to officially open at 6:00 pm
Left Bank Books borrowed the basement room, obviously setup for a house band including mics, speakers and a soundboard, for Pat’s reading. I snagged a third row end seat so I could move freely down the left aisle for photographic angle freedom. After only a few minutes, Pat arrived and began pre-signing a few books, mostly from the front rows (he almost got to me before the official start time) and families with small children.
Pat started his talk with a few ground rules, after noting the basement venue (complete with band equipment and beer dispensing) might prove to be his most ‘rock-n-roll’ event setting to date. While he encouraged photographs, he emphatically requested a ban on all video, providing some hilarious examples and excuses. I had hoped to record his talk, but my video camera had lost it’s charge overnight when I left it in the cold trunk overnight, and his request made it moot anyway. He moved on to spoilers, and his loathing of those who spoil, especially those who ask questions and proclaim them not spoilerish (a sure indication the question will be a spoiler).
For the next hour, Pat answered questions with humorous anecdotes. He finally took a break from Q&A and polled us for something to read, placing a short non-spoiler section of Wise Man’s Fear, some of his own poetry or one of his humorous weekly advice columns from his college days. We more or less agreed on the latter and thus did I learn of Pat’s penchant for guinea pig abuse (you really had to be there).
After a few more questions, Pat retired upstairs to begin the signing gauntlet. At even just one minute per person, he probably had six or eight hours (starting at 8:30 pm) of arm numbing signatures to write. I actually made it back to the motel about an hour later.
Pat signing two hardcovers for me and two for my uncle.
I had a fantastic evening listening to and laughing with Pat. If you haven’t yet read his first novel, I highly recommend The Name of the Wind. I hope to finish the sequel, The Wise Man’s Fear within the next week or so. And even though, according to Pat’s research, fantastic fiction is in the literary basement (pun intended I’m sure), just slightly below science fiction and barely above westerns and romances on said totem pole, his novel dominated the NYT Best Seller’s List (for Fiction) it’s first week after release!
Because the publisher assumes digital resources never deteriorate, they have set an arbitrary limit to the number of times an electronic resource can be accessed. Not planned obsolescence. Forced obsolescence. (emphasis added)
Despite statements to the New York Times that HarperCollins hopes this move will, “ensure a presence in public libraries and the communities they serve for years to come,” it may, in fact, do just the opposite. (emphasis added)
Another link posted by a different GoodReader offered some background as to why the publishing industry executives are reacting so poorly to change: Twelve Common Misconceptions about Book Publishing.
And what’s the next step beyond forced obsolescence at public libraries? How many times will you be allowed to read your ebook before it is removed or held hostage on your virtual bookshelf until you negotiate a ransom by re-buying the content?
A dark day … Tuesday, March 8th … Mardi Gras … the day before Lent begins … Ash Wednesday … the ashes of our electronic books on the shelves of our libraries. Just a few of my grim thoughts after reading this article tweeted by Publishers Weekly this morning:
He died and made HarperCollins the “god” who decided how many times I can checkout a library ebook? Without my local library, and the interlibrary loan system, I would never have read some classic publications, long out of print. As a young adult and later as a harried young parent, my local library saved my sanity by providing endless diversions. Now, decades later, and more secure financially, I happily support my favorite authors by purchasing the expensive first edition hardcovers. I buy books as gifts for friends and family. Those same authors came to be loved by me through … my local library.
I woke up to the second day of March with significantly more sleep than I got for the first day. And, a stunning sunrise evolved over the course of my commute from home to Kansas City, Missouri:
Sunrise Wed 2 Mar 2011 over Kansas City, Missouri skyline
I enjoyed my cran-raspberry white chocolate scone (baked Sunday morning) with two cups of average tea (just Lipton for easy prep) while cleaning up log files before monitoring MOSS 2007 crawl a large content source. At least I have no meetings scheduled for today.
I’m looking forward to a short walk at lunch to take advantage of Planet Sub‘s double punch day. This evening, I’ll take a long walk with Roxy during Wolfguard‘s practice.
Ah, the joys of tax preparation season and gathering all the necessary documentation for filing an itemized return, especially when some of your offspring don’t answer their cell phones and may never check or respond to their voice-mail messages.
And the things my husband says when I gather the appropriate information and return his call to relate said information:
“Would there happen to be a pen up here?” meaning the kitchen table.
“I have no idea. I was a secretary for years and have no desire to be one again. I keep mine in my purse.” my reply.
“Well, I only have two places to keep a pen on me, and neither one of them pleasant.” his reply which sparked images that may scar me for the rest of my life.
While speaking to one of my offspring’s significant others, I learned all of them (my offspring and their better halves) are involved in indoor soccer leagues. I feel so left out of the loop. I adamantly requested photos and updates at the first opportunity.
I despair of ever catching up on my group reads. I have at least two left over from February, bleeding over into March. I may drop everything so I can read the newly released (yesterday and in the mail to me right now via pre-order from Barnes & Nobel) The Wise Man’s Fear. The rest of my current reads pile can be found here.
And I’ve been asked to lead the discussion in two different groups, the first on Willis’ Doomsday Book and the second on Jemisin’s The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms. As if I needed anything else to do.
I’m speechless and breathless (and have been for several weeks) after finishing this penultimate tipping-point volume in Janny Wurts’ Wars of Light and Shadow series. Even taking a break and reading a half dozen other books hasn’t allowed me to express the emotions that wracked me or the wonders assuaging them. Not since reading Janny’s To Ride Hell’s Chasm has a book’s pacing been so unrelenting and rewarding. And to think she wrote that novel after Peril’s Gate to step back from writing this series!
I highly recommend this book, but also strongly suggest you not start with this novel. Begin at the beginning, with Curse of the Mistwraith and immerse yourself in all things Atheran.
Back in mid to late January, I reviewed the suggested reading list for the Altered States reading program promoted by the Kansas City Public Library. Many familiar titles popped out at me like Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, Golding’s Lord of the Flies, Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court and PKD’s The Man in the High Castle. The more modern (recently published) offerings I’d seen making the rounds of the GoodReads book clubs over the past couple of years, titles like McCarthy’s The Road, Bacigalupi’s The Windup Girl, Chabon’s The Yiddish Policeman’s Union (currently in a run-off poll at the SciFi & Fantasy Book Club for our March 2011 selection), Priest’s Boneshaker and Moore’s The Watchmen.
With limited reading time, and way too many book clubs to keep up with, I quickly eliminated the two books I’d already read: Fforde’s The Eyre Affair and Clarke’s Jonathon Strange & Mr. Norrell (see my GoodReads reviews below). I visited my local used bookstore twice and found a copy of Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court and Golding’s Lord of the Flies. I found a public domain ebook version of London’s The Iron Heel. I placed a hold on Lewis’ It Can’t Happen Here and PKD’s The Man in the High Castle. I’ve read two of those five, and started a third one, with the other two waiting patiently on my shelf at home.
Of the remaining suggested titles, I plan to read Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale (because I should have a long time ago) and Roberts’ Pavane (because it sounds interesting and more remote from my own times).
I read The Iron Heel and Connecticut Yankee simultaneously, an experience I’m not soon to forget. I may someday re-read Twain’s novel, but I find myself wishing I’d passed over London’s weak attempt at novelizing a political tract (see my review below and click through to see the comments of other GoodReads readers and reviewers). The KC Library’s blurb on it just doesn’t do it justice (tongue firmly in cheek):
Considered the first modern dystopian novel, The Iron Heel is presented as the fictional autobiography of American revolutionary Avis Everhard and her struggles against the Oligarchy, a group of robber barons that co-opted the U.S. Army and forced the middle class into serfdom. The narrative is complemented by sometimes extensive footnotes written from the perspective of a future scholar and descendent of the revolution inspired by Everhard. The Iron Heel proved a strong influence on George Orwell as he wrote 1984.
Another comparatively similar novel, but better written, Lewis’ It Can’t Happen Here shows a chilling and plausible turn of events in 1930s America. I’m only a few chapters into it, but I can’t wait to continue reading it. You can follow along with me via my status updates here and eventually read my review once I finish (all on the same page for easy navigating).
I hope to finish all these novels prior to the end of the Altered States reading program. Either way, I’ll post an occasional travelogue here as a I journey through the Warped Zone of dystopian, apocalyptic and alternate reality/history fiction.
A wonderful thing happened on the way to The Eyre Affair; I read Jane Eyre. For that alone I will be eternally grateful.
Otherwise, it was an enjoyable but forgettable mystery set in a chaotic vortex of genres spanning paranormal, science fiction, alternate history, and time travel. At one point, it even reminded me of Butcher’s Dresden series.
The puns, literary references and alternate history gaffs intrigued me and sparked quick forays of research to confirm or deny my suspicions.
I have the sequel Lost in a Good Book waiting in the wings to see what happens Next.
This novel was rich on many levels. It was fantasy, for it had magic and fairies, but it was also historical fiction, possibly even an alternate history of Britain during and shortly after the Napoleonic Wars. It’s pacing matched that of the times, sedate and thoughtful, rich in detail and characters.
Gilbert Norrell is a miserly magician of Yorkshire who hoards any and all books of magic he can get his hands on. His first act of magic in the novel actually results in the dissolution of a society of theoretical magicians in York for the sole purpose of making himself the only magician in Britain.
Jonathan Strange is an idle gentleman who stumbles upon his talent for magic and like a moth to the flame, flies to Mr. Norrell, the only source of magical information, and becomes his pupil. Their association lasts for several months until Strange surpasses Norrell in inventiveness and intuition and Norrell sends him to assist the army in Spain.
In Spain, Strange eventually becomes indispensable to Lord Wellington, initially by providing magic roads for the British Army to use which disappear back to a morass of mud just in time for the French Army to get bogged down in. Finally, Strange’s magic turns the tide of the Battle of Waterloo and thus ends the reign of Emperor Bounaparte.
Three background characters are pivotal to the story. The first is Emma Wintertowne, who eventually becomes Lady Pole after marrying Sir Walter Pole. But only after she is resurrected by Mr. Norrell with his second and most famous act of magic. But Norrell bargains away half of Emma’s life to the fairy he summoned to ressurect her, a fairy gentleman we know only as “the gentleman with the thistle down hair.” This resurrection reults in the enchantment and imprisonment of Lady Pole in the fairy hall of Lost-hope, doomed to dance and endless balls or participate in pointless processions.
The second supporting character also enchanted by the fairy gentleman is Sir Walter’s butler, a black man named Stephen Black. The fairy took a queer liking and attachment to Stephen and forced him to attend the same balls and processions that Lady Pole suffered. Both Lady Pole and Stephen were returned to the real world each morning, but they both suffered exhaustion and distraction from living a double life, which both were prevented from relating to others of their predicament.
The third enchanted and most tragic figure was Strange’s wife, Arabella. Because Arabella struck up a friendship with the ailing Lady Pole, she came into the sphere of the gentleman with the thistle down hair. He immediately sought to enchant her permanently to the halls of Lost-hope. With Stephen’s reluctant assistance, he was able to pull Arabella into fairy, seemingly causing her to perish to her family and friends.
Strange was nearly mad with grief but was eventually persuaded to take a long holiday on the continent, where he met another English family, the Greysteels. It seemed he was on the path of a second marriage to Flora Greysteel, when he discovered a pathway to fairy, stumbling upon the hall of Lost-hope and learning of the fates of Lady Pole, Stephen and his wife, Arabella. The rest of the novel is Strange’s struggle to free the women. As we learn later, Stephen breaks his own and Arabella’s enchantments when the opportunity presents itself.
Two of the most interesting supporting characters were Mr. Childermass, Mr. Norrell’s strangely independent servant, and Vinculus, a seedy street sorcerer of London, run out of town by Mr. Norrell thanks to the efficient efforts of Mr. Childermass. Both of these characters provide some of the most colorful scenes and plots to the novel.
And in the background, every present in the sky, on the wind or sleeping in the stones, is the Raven King, a mythic being from Britain’s past, a king who reigned in Northern England, in fairy and in Hell. He is vital and instrumental in the return of English magic.
The ending was sad and somewhat tragic, but not unexpected.
If you enjoy historical fiction, especially of the early 19th century, you will enjoy this novel and savor it for many hours, especially curled up by the fire with a warm cup of tea.
Dystopian, or very dated alternate history, which drowned me in Marxism and the evils of capitalism as viewed through the lens of the very early 20th century. My perspective, a century later, shows many of these ills have been legislatively remedied. Not much of a story or plot, no real character growth; mostly essay or lecture on socialism, topped off with stomping feet, neo-terrorism and the beginnings of a non-nuclear Cold War.
It Can’t Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis
