In case any Taminoites read this, I'll note there are some mild spoilers, and you may be able to piece together the revelations early if you read this, but it's not going to ruin anything.
I don't usually write reviews of the Doctor Who audios up purely because I go through so many, they'd crowd everything else out. I happened to have written a short review elsewhere though, so I'll repost it here. This one's interesting and quirky enough to merit attention. By no means a high-concept, mindbending story, but a bit unusual.
The story is a psuedo-historical featuring Dick Turpin, who hadn't previously recieved Who treatment, but the quirk is that it's also a 'psuedo-fictional'. That is to say, the Doctor and Charley don't just encounter the historical Turpin, but the fictional Turpin. The plot involves fiction blurring into reality, you see, and Jac Rayner (the ever reliable) had the smart idea of centering it on character who is both historical and fictional (as an acknowledgement of this, there's a nod to Robin Hood, who might equally have worked, but Turpin is a more interesting choice).
The story is fairly distinctly split down the middle - the first half is a bit of a murder mystery with peculiar goings on. The murders and the peculiarities are solved at the end of part two, however, leading into more of an action romp and a playing with the established concepts in the third and fourth parts.
The first disc (parts one and two) is suitably mystifying. It is a bit disappointing that we have the reveal of what's going on by the end of part two; I was enjoying being baffled. India Fisher really gets to stretch her muscles and enjoy herself in this one, and I enjoyed Geraldine Newman as the quasi-villainous aunt. (She seems to be channeling the old woman from Stones of Venice.)
The second disc I felt wasn't quite as good as the first. With both the murder mystery aspect and the weird phenomena aspect solved, some of the hook was gone. Nonetheless, I rather enjoyed the chase to York - it was quite atmospheric. I felt the climax was a bit rushed and not so strong, although the image of the particles making Turpin grow into a giant in the streets of York was delightfully weirdy B-movie. The Doctor and Eleanor dropping into the fiction in order to catch Turpin was a highlight. It had interesting ramifications and it was a logical progression of the plot. One other thing I felt didn't work too well was the explanation for the particles - they're explained as being a biological phenomena that alters your perceptions, but this isn't inkeeping with their reality warping properties. Of course it's all technobabble really, but I felt this particular explanation wasn't satisfying for the effects we were seeing. I also wasn't keen on the Grel, who are far too comical and pantomime for my tastes. The race, and the concepts, could (and have) been explored and developed further - but not every story needs to be high minded speculative fiction
Overall, enjoyable, quirky, and rather satisfying. 4/5
Coming soon: Bioshock, Anathem, and possibly a rant about the relationship between politics and consumerist big business.
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Sunday, 7 March 2010
Miserable. Disgusted, unhappy, uncomfortable and afraid of living in this country. I hate it. I hate the way things are going. Whatever. I should probably not have missed my meds for 10 days.
Red Seas Under Red Skies - A worthy sequel. Lynch is stepping up the serial aspect of his saga. 4.5/5
No more to report.
Red Seas Under Red Skies - A worthy sequel. Lynch is stepping up the serial aspect of his saga. 4.5/5
No more to report.
Friday, 12 February 2010
Nothing to Report
No news is not good news. No news is merely no news, and it gives me nothing to write about. Here is some minutae:
In writing:
A second serving of ephemeral pulp fantasy is available here.
Not content with driving to me distraction with script pitches, Big Finish are now soliciting short stories for a compilation Doctor Who short story audiobook. I have one idea already I am about to start work on.
In gaming:
Finished Star Wars: Jedi Knight. It's got a reputation as a classic and it's one it deserves. This is a game that is fantastically enjoyable nearly decades later. It shines on level design, pleasantly reminiscent of the Half-Life series, whilst its weapon set is brilliantly well balanced and the force power element lives up to the expectations of a game with the premise 'Play as a Jedi'. Secrets and a well implemented RPG system give it replay value. The live action cutscenes are pretty lame, but they're simply of their time and they have a certain charm.
Started Max Payne. Stuck on it at the moment, but far enough in to acknowledge that the hardboiled noir pastiche vibe is absolutely inspired. The gameplay, with it's then-uncliché bullet time gunfights is entertaining and pretty slick, though a bit repetitive for my tastes. I intend to finish it if I can get through this one hair-tearing part.
Currently halfway through Bioshock. This will get a full-on rambling write up when I'm finished, but suffice to say it is already cemented as an all-time classic in my mind, and THE best example of game storytelling I have ever seen.
In reading:
Don't laugh, but I'm reading a comedy thriller by Boris Johnson. It's actually highly amusing, and crying out for a screen adaptation. How much of it was written by Boris is of course debatable. Curiously, its biggest detractors appear to be Boris' fans.
In watching:
Newswipe is as good as ever, if not even better. This is the best of Brooker's shows, surpassing the flawed Gameswipe (Brooker may have cut his teeth on games coverage, but he is still out of touch), and bettering Screenwipe by being less ephemeral, and having some real gravity underlying its points.
In the Loop - Anyone who enjoys The Thick of It will of course enjoy this. But it is more than just The Thick of It writ large. The American story is as big as the British one, preventing it becoming Malcolm Tucker goes to Washington. Instead both sides are given equal billing, and whilst there are obvious parallels between them, the Americans have a different vibe and a different story to the British. And of course, it is as hilarious as it has ever been. It's not just Malcolm reeling of the quotable lines, either. Every character gets some really shining notes. My favourite quote might come from Addison (playing essentially a slightly nastier version of Olly): "You speak entirely in parables. You're like a crap jesus." Even Malcolm, the only crossover character (Toby is similar, but distinct, from Olly) is not just a retread of the Thick of It ground, as Capaldi saw fit to try and take him in a new direction for his story in the film, and we see a less secure, shark-in-the-pool Malcolm.
And that is the news as it stands at 18:41.
In writing:
A second serving of ephemeral pulp fantasy is available here.
Not content with driving to me distraction with script pitches, Big Finish are now soliciting short stories for a compilation Doctor Who short story audiobook. I have one idea already I am about to start work on.
In gaming:
Finished Star Wars: Jedi Knight. It's got a reputation as a classic and it's one it deserves. This is a game that is fantastically enjoyable nearly decades later. It shines on level design, pleasantly reminiscent of the Half-Life series, whilst its weapon set is brilliantly well balanced and the force power element lives up to the expectations of a game with the premise 'Play as a Jedi'. Secrets and a well implemented RPG system give it replay value. The live action cutscenes are pretty lame, but they're simply of their time and they have a certain charm.
Started Max Payne. Stuck on it at the moment, but far enough in to acknowledge that the hardboiled noir pastiche vibe is absolutely inspired. The gameplay, with it's then-uncliché bullet time gunfights is entertaining and pretty slick, though a bit repetitive for my tastes. I intend to finish it if I can get through this one hair-tearing part.
Currently halfway through Bioshock. This will get a full-on rambling write up when I'm finished, but suffice to say it is already cemented as an all-time classic in my mind, and THE best example of game storytelling I have ever seen.
In reading:
Don't laugh, but I'm reading a comedy thriller by Boris Johnson. It's actually highly amusing, and crying out for a screen adaptation. How much of it was written by Boris is of course debatable. Curiously, its biggest detractors appear to be Boris' fans.
In watching:
Newswipe is as good as ever, if not even better. This is the best of Brooker's shows, surpassing the flawed Gameswipe (Brooker may have cut his teeth on games coverage, but he is still out of touch), and bettering Screenwipe by being less ephemeral, and having some real gravity underlying its points.
In the Loop - Anyone who enjoys The Thick of It will of course enjoy this. But it is more than just The Thick of It writ large. The American story is as big as the British one, preventing it becoming Malcolm Tucker goes to Washington. Instead both sides are given equal billing, and whilst there are obvious parallels between them, the Americans have a different vibe and a different story to the British. And of course, it is as hilarious as it has ever been. It's not just Malcolm reeling of the quotable lines, either. Every character gets some really shining notes. My favourite quote might come from Addison (playing essentially a slightly nastier version of Olly): "You speak entirely in parables. You're like a crap jesus." Even Malcolm, the only crossover character (Toby is similar, but distinct, from Olly) is not just a retread of the Thick of It ground, as Capaldi saw fit to try and take him in a new direction for his story in the film, and we see a less secure, shark-in-the-pool Malcolm.
And that is the news as it stands at 18:41.
Thursday, 4 February 2010
Inactive Architecture
Well, it's out there, now, so I finally feel like I can talk again. Been working on a script pitch for Big Finish over the past week, and I've been somewhat zoned in on it to the exclusion of everything else. But it's done now, and sent, and the deadline is past. It's for the Doctor Who audios, and they open up for new writers so incredibly infrequently this is, like the Scout, kind of a big deal. That is an understatement. I can't put down in words here how big a deal it actually is to me. Suffice to say I am being wracked with anticipation.
The first NEW bit of writing I've done since the pitch-madness was the beginning of a serialised fantasy noir story done to spec for my good friend Leprechaun Features. It's a bit of fluff, nothing more. I made a seperate blog for publishing finished fiction, to keep it distinct. You may find it hyar: www.sufferingfrom.blogspot.com
I'm not sure if I can post up the pitch I sent to Big Finish, so I'll have to keep it under wraps for the time being. I'm sure you're all heartbroken. Sorry.
And Dollhouse. Oh, Dollhouse. The finale was a big step up on Hollow Men, a very weak story that failed to adequately resolve the Boyd reveal and didn't live up to the title of the eponymous poem. It was still entertaining, but ultimately quite disappointing. Epitaph Two (imaginative naming) was a fair bit better. Without the disappointment before it, it'd have been a high to go out on. (Although emotionally, quite the low.) But because it followed Hollow Men, it's own inadequacies seemed more noticeable. Still, Topher's arc is definitely the absolute highlight of this series, and was devestating, and many other characters got satisfying ends as well. (Alpha's was unexpected and lovely, but where was Dominic?)
After Hollow Men I actually wrote my own ending to the series, and revised it a bit after E2. I'm somewhat saddened that I enjoy my own ending far more than Whedon's, and will never get to see it. Alas. The world will never know the wonder of that ending.
I can't write any more, now. I am once again being wracked by the horror and hope of the BF opportunity. Fairwell.
The first NEW bit of writing I've done since the pitch-madness was the beginning of a serialised fantasy noir story done to spec for my good friend Leprechaun Features. It's a bit of fluff, nothing more. I made a seperate blog for publishing finished fiction, to keep it distinct. You may find it hyar: www.sufferingfrom.blogspot.com
I'm not sure if I can post up the pitch I sent to Big Finish, so I'll have to keep it under wraps for the time being. I'm sure you're all heartbroken. Sorry.
And Dollhouse. Oh, Dollhouse. The finale was a big step up on Hollow Men, a very weak story that failed to adequately resolve the Boyd reveal and didn't live up to the title of the eponymous poem. It was still entertaining, but ultimately quite disappointing. Epitaph Two (imaginative naming) was a fair bit better. Without the disappointment before it, it'd have been a high to go out on. (Although emotionally, quite the low.) But because it followed Hollow Men, it's own inadequacies seemed more noticeable. Still, Topher's arc is definitely the absolute highlight of this series, and was devestating, and many other characters got satisfying ends as well. (Alpha's was unexpected and lovely, but where was Dominic?)
After Hollow Men I actually wrote my own ending to the series, and revised it a bit after E2. I'm somewhat saddened that I enjoy my own ending far more than Whedon's, and will never get to see it. Alas. The world will never know the wonder of that ending.
I can't write any more, now. I am once again being wracked by the horror and hope of the BF opportunity. Fairwell.
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
A Game of Thrones
In an alternate universe, George RR Martin is famed for his fantasy epic that tells of the fools and jesters in the courts of seven kingdoms, as they plot and scheme to outdo one another for the popularity and renown of having the most contrived jokes. There are few fans who have not read his seminal work, 'A Fame of Groans'.
Sorry.
I am a little disappointed by A Game of Thrones. I was what I expected, in terms of scale and content, but it lacked the 'something special' that I had been led to believe it contained. People talk about it with this hint of awe, and I kept waiting for the book to wow me. It never did. It's political fantasy on a grand scale, but not such a scale as to be truly eye opening. But, then, have I actually finished the story? I was left with the sense that the story was only just beginning. Do I have to read every volume for the magnitude of the thing to really get to me? Perhaps.
I probably will keep reading, because, despite what I have said, I did enjoy it, I am left with quite some interest in where it goes next, and I still think that it has the potential to develop into something that is really special.
Setting aside expectations and disappointments, here's what I made of its content: It's quite a cold, impersonal novel. All of the Northerners are cold, hard people who do not really brook association, or, alternately, they spend their time sullen and miserable. This is obviously intentional, the people of the North reflecting their icy world is an old device and it creates here the atmosphere I'm sure it was intended to. But all the PoV characters save for Tyrion are of this mould, and it does sometimes make it hard to care about them too much.
Eddard is the most rounded character, to an extent he is the 'main' character, and he does show some warmth when talking to Robert early on. But he spends the majority of the story being harangued and beaten down, and after a while I found I was not so interested in him. He's a 'straight as an arrow' type character and mostly responds to everything in exactly the same way, so I found myself somewhat ambivalent over his fate. His story is still among the most interesting of strands, but that is more for the supporting case: Varys, Littlefinger, the mysteriously absent Stannis, the dead Jon Arryn. These characters are all wrapped up in mystery, and after a while reading Eddard's chapters was for interest in them, not him.
The children (Bran, Sansa, Arya) and Catelyn all put me off. Sansa is plot-stupid, and I find it hard to credit just how obtuse she is. She does nothing remotely interesting throughout the story, and rather than have the good grace to merely be ephemeral, is instead actively annoying. Arya is better, but she is such a stereotypical tomboy warrior-princess that I found her somewhat tedious as well. Plus, she throws tantrums perpetually, making her a deeply unlikeable brat. Bran is better, giving a more credible child's-eye view of proceedings than Sansa, but he's also pretty bland, as characters go. There's very little in the way of character to him. Catelyn is just a whiny bitch and I wish she'd shut up. Her sister is even worse and I wanted to hit them both throughout the sections at the Eyrie. I know that's the point, but it dragged on too long, so that irritating characters started to render the book itself irritating. Thankfully her chapters often meander away from her, and the characters she's accompanied by make for more interesting reading (Tyrion, Rodrik, Robb, Littlefinger again).
Robb is actually far more interesting than his mother, and it's quite a shame he never gets his own chapters.
Then there's Jon. Jon I found agreeable, because he actually acted like a person. Plus, he actually spends all his chapters doing interesting things, AND surrounded by interesting and likeable characters. I actually sympathise for Jon when he confronts breaking his oath at the end of the book, long after I stopped caring what became of all the other PoV characters (Except Eddard, but he was dead, and Tyrion, more on him later.) I have a different issue with Jon's sections, not related to characterisation. I'll come to that shortly.
Lastly, there's Tyrion. I think Tyrion probably sold the book to me. I'm not sure I'd have kept my interest were he absent. Tyrion is by far the deepest, most nuance character in the story, and also one who actually acts like a human being. His plot thread is also the longest and most winding, seeing him go North to the wall as a sort of counsellor to Jon, then taking East as Catelyn's captive, rendering him powerless, before finally he comes west again, as an unlikely leader of wildmen. The plot is interesting, and gives Martin a chance to explore all the facets of Tyrion and still leave him quite a curious and intriguing fellow. And now he is going to court! There is no end to the interest that flows from this guy.
This was my main issue - two genuinely interesting characters balanced against one who is enjoyable to read but gets offed before the end and four that I disliked to a greater or lesser degree. Meanwhile fascinating and human characters come and go, and are given only cursory glances. Robert is good to read about, and whilst the story follows he and Eddard, everything is pretty good. But he gets offed at the two-thirds mark too. Varys is deeply interesting, and possibly quite tragic. I hope he was not lying about his motivation toward peace, as that makes him quite an interesting character indeed. But Varys barely shows himself. Littlefinger, too, is quite peculiar. We never find out what his deal is, though I imagine it is coming in a later book. But until we get some glance at the underlying truth of Littlefinger, he is a bit too much of a 'textbook enigmatic' character, mysterious just to be mysterious. I think Martin felt that these characters had to be kept peripheral to maintain the mystery, and if so perhaps he was right, but I did wish we heard more from them.
There's also issues with the plot, and this relates to the character I have yet to mention; Daenerys. Daenerys' plot it only tangentially related to the rest of the story and seems as if it could have been excised completely. It's not even in the same tone as the rest of the story. I sort of get that this is the 'fire', whilst the other characters are the 'ice', and so where the rest of the plot is far more intellectual, this is far more emotional. But it doesn't change the fact that it didn't feel like it belonged. Nevertheless I actually liked all the characters here, who were far more human than the cold Northerners. I am curious as to what is afoot with Jorah, sending letters to Robert yet seeming to honestly care for Daenerys. What I didn't like, at all, was the ending of this strand (and the novel), in which the dragons hatch and Daenerys walks into the fire. The explicit hocus-pocus of this didn't feel like it belonged AT ALL.
The other plot that seemed barely related was Jon and his northern war, with the return of the Others. Whilst I see how Daenerys' story is going to eventually merge into the main story, I don't really see how Jon's will. It seems it will be more a case of 'Oh, and this is happening too', as none of the characters in either half really have any link to the other. (Indeed, most of Jon's story is about HOW he severs all his bonds to what's going on elsewhere.)
Also, what somewhat threw me: Throughout the first half of the novel, it really felt like I was primarily reading a murder mystery, with Eddard playing the 'detective', and everyone keeping secrets and following hidden agendas. Then the truth came out, and everything seemed to be swept aside as if none of it was really important anyway. (The latter third-ish of the book is more a straightforward war story, but it does really pick up the pace and excitement, and so I was not too disappointed that the mystery-thread seemed to come to nothing.)
I suspect though, that the real issue is that I have been tripped up by my assumptions. The series is split into several books, and I naturally assumed they would be at least somewhat episodic. Now I get the impression that that isn't the case. I've just read the first 15% of a story and stopped, which is why the book has no real ending, it's why some plots feel ephemeral, it's why some characters seem not to have been given enough screentime, why I have not yet seen the grandeur I expected, and possibly why I haven't given some of the characters a chance to grow and engender more interest. And possibly it means the Baratheon-bloodline-mystery plot will resurface (with the return of the mysterious Stannis?)
Anyway, I am still sufficiently intrigued, in fact, quite considerably intrigued, and in spite of all else, it was ultimately an enjoyable read, so I will definitely read the next volume.
Sorry.
I am a little disappointed by A Game of Thrones. I was what I expected, in terms of scale and content, but it lacked the 'something special' that I had been led to believe it contained. People talk about it with this hint of awe, and I kept waiting for the book to wow me. It never did. It's political fantasy on a grand scale, but not such a scale as to be truly eye opening. But, then, have I actually finished the story? I was left with the sense that the story was only just beginning. Do I have to read every volume for the magnitude of the thing to really get to me? Perhaps.
I probably will keep reading, because, despite what I have said, I did enjoy it, I am left with quite some interest in where it goes next, and I still think that it has the potential to develop into something that is really special.
Setting aside expectations and disappointments, here's what I made of its content: It's quite a cold, impersonal novel. All of the Northerners are cold, hard people who do not really brook association, or, alternately, they spend their time sullen and miserable. This is obviously intentional, the people of the North reflecting their icy world is an old device and it creates here the atmosphere I'm sure it was intended to. But all the PoV characters save for Tyrion are of this mould, and it does sometimes make it hard to care about them too much.
Eddard is the most rounded character, to an extent he is the 'main' character, and he does show some warmth when talking to Robert early on. But he spends the majority of the story being harangued and beaten down, and after a while I found I was not so interested in him. He's a 'straight as an arrow' type character and mostly responds to everything in exactly the same way, so I found myself somewhat ambivalent over his fate. His story is still among the most interesting of strands, but that is more for the supporting case: Varys, Littlefinger, the mysteriously absent Stannis, the dead Jon Arryn. These characters are all wrapped up in mystery, and after a while reading Eddard's chapters was for interest in them, not him.
The children (Bran, Sansa, Arya) and Catelyn all put me off. Sansa is plot-stupid, and I find it hard to credit just how obtuse she is. She does nothing remotely interesting throughout the story, and rather than have the good grace to merely be ephemeral, is instead actively annoying. Arya is better, but she is such a stereotypical tomboy warrior-princess that I found her somewhat tedious as well. Plus, she throws tantrums perpetually, making her a deeply unlikeable brat. Bran is better, giving a more credible child's-eye view of proceedings than Sansa, but he's also pretty bland, as characters go. There's very little in the way of character to him. Catelyn is just a whiny bitch and I wish she'd shut up. Her sister is even worse and I wanted to hit them both throughout the sections at the Eyrie. I know that's the point, but it dragged on too long, so that irritating characters started to render the book itself irritating. Thankfully her chapters often meander away from her, and the characters she's accompanied by make for more interesting reading (Tyrion, Rodrik, Robb, Littlefinger again).
Robb is actually far more interesting than his mother, and it's quite a shame he never gets his own chapters.
Then there's Jon. Jon I found agreeable, because he actually acted like a person. Plus, he actually spends all his chapters doing interesting things, AND surrounded by interesting and likeable characters. I actually sympathise for Jon when he confronts breaking his oath at the end of the book, long after I stopped caring what became of all the other PoV characters (Except Eddard, but he was dead, and Tyrion, more on him later.) I have a different issue with Jon's sections, not related to characterisation. I'll come to that shortly.
Lastly, there's Tyrion. I think Tyrion probably sold the book to me. I'm not sure I'd have kept my interest were he absent. Tyrion is by far the deepest, most nuance character in the story, and also one who actually acts like a human being. His plot thread is also the longest and most winding, seeing him go North to the wall as a sort of counsellor to Jon, then taking East as Catelyn's captive, rendering him powerless, before finally he comes west again, as an unlikely leader of wildmen. The plot is interesting, and gives Martin a chance to explore all the facets of Tyrion and still leave him quite a curious and intriguing fellow. And now he is going to court! There is no end to the interest that flows from this guy.
This was my main issue - two genuinely interesting characters balanced against one who is enjoyable to read but gets offed before the end and four that I disliked to a greater or lesser degree. Meanwhile fascinating and human characters come and go, and are given only cursory glances. Robert is good to read about, and whilst the story follows he and Eddard, everything is pretty good. But he gets offed at the two-thirds mark too. Varys is deeply interesting, and possibly quite tragic. I hope he was not lying about his motivation toward peace, as that makes him quite an interesting character indeed. But Varys barely shows himself. Littlefinger, too, is quite peculiar. We never find out what his deal is, though I imagine it is coming in a later book. But until we get some glance at the underlying truth of Littlefinger, he is a bit too much of a 'textbook enigmatic' character, mysterious just to be mysterious. I think Martin felt that these characters had to be kept peripheral to maintain the mystery, and if so perhaps he was right, but I did wish we heard more from them.
There's also issues with the plot, and this relates to the character I have yet to mention; Daenerys. Daenerys' plot it only tangentially related to the rest of the story and seems as if it could have been excised completely. It's not even in the same tone as the rest of the story. I sort of get that this is the 'fire', whilst the other characters are the 'ice', and so where the rest of the plot is far more intellectual, this is far more emotional. But it doesn't change the fact that it didn't feel like it belonged. Nevertheless I actually liked all the characters here, who were far more human than the cold Northerners. I am curious as to what is afoot with Jorah, sending letters to Robert yet seeming to honestly care for Daenerys. What I didn't like, at all, was the ending of this strand (and the novel), in which the dragons hatch and Daenerys walks into the fire. The explicit hocus-pocus of this didn't feel like it belonged AT ALL.
The other plot that seemed barely related was Jon and his northern war, with the return of the Others. Whilst I see how Daenerys' story is going to eventually merge into the main story, I don't really see how Jon's will. It seems it will be more a case of 'Oh, and this is happening too', as none of the characters in either half really have any link to the other. (Indeed, most of Jon's story is about HOW he severs all his bonds to what's going on elsewhere.)
Also, what somewhat threw me: Throughout the first half of the novel, it really felt like I was primarily reading a murder mystery, with Eddard playing the 'detective', and everyone keeping secrets and following hidden agendas. Then the truth came out, and everything seemed to be swept aside as if none of it was really important anyway. (The latter third-ish of the book is more a straightforward war story, but it does really pick up the pace and excitement, and so I was not too disappointed that the mystery-thread seemed to come to nothing.)
I suspect though, that the real issue is that I have been tripped up by my assumptions. The series is split into several books, and I naturally assumed they would be at least somewhat episodic. Now I get the impression that that isn't the case. I've just read the first 15% of a story and stopped, which is why the book has no real ending, it's why some plots feel ephemeral, it's why some characters seem not to have been given enough screentime, why I have not yet seen the grandeur I expected, and possibly why I haven't given some of the characters a chance to grow and engender more interest. And possibly it means the Baratheon-bloodline-mystery plot will resurface (with the return of the mysterious Stannis?)
Anyway, I am still sufficiently intrigued, in fact, quite considerably intrigued, and in spite of all else, it was ultimately an enjoyable read, so I will definitely read the next volume.
Wednesday, 20 January 2010
Crepuscular Squirrel Sandwich
Tweaked the blog a bit to make it look more polished. Made myself a banner in photoshop just to amuse myself. Good source images of notepads are unexpectedly hard to find, so I took a reference photo myself. Maybe I will upload it to wikisource and rectify the paucity of such images on the internet. Tried to hack the template around a bit and realised my fragmentary grasp of CSS had completely deserted me. Might see about learning it again, but if I'm going to study some code I'd probably be better served finishing up learning C++, before I lose the notes I was taking before Christmas and have to start again. Come to think of it, I don't know if I can even find the resource I was learning from. For the moment, though, I am quite happy to fill my days with reading, writing, and ar- and video games.
A quick review:
Burn After Reading - Coen Brothers' comedy of errors. Not quite so funny the second time around, but still frequently hysterical, especially towards the end. Brad Pitt is the heart of it and Clooney the bread and butter, but no real weak links. Probably the best scenes feature JK Simmon's CIA official trying to make sense out of a series of insignificant events which have been inflated beyond all importance. Not very deep stuff, but pretty funny.
And now, an early night beckons me; I have been up since 1:20 am.
A quick review:
Burn After Reading - Coen Brothers' comedy of errors. Not quite so funny the second time around, but still frequently hysterical, especially towards the end. Brad Pitt is the heart of it and Clooney the bread and butter, but no real weak links. Probably the best scenes feature JK Simmon's CIA official trying to make sense out of a series of insignificant events which have been inflated beyond all importance. Not very deep stuff, but pretty funny.
And now, an early night beckons me; I have been up since 1:20 am.
Stop Writing! I Need More Time!
A friend of mine once gave an anguished cry of 'Stop filming, I need more time!' as a stack of DVDs mounted up so high they threatened to cause an avalanche and bury him alive. I'm experiencing much the same with books, at the moment. I bought six more at the weekend, in Waterstones' 'Books of the Decade' 3-for-2, and I could easily have bought nine. The papery precipice of tomes is looming dangerously, and not aided by my chelonially slow reading pace. I have something like 10 books on my immediate reading list, and on top of that, I really want to read Red Seas Under Red Skies (the Locke Lamora follow-on) before the third book in that series comes out later this year. Plus, I really want to avail myself of my brother's comic collection, but each time I finish a book, some internal snobbery forces my hand toward the next 'proper' grimoire in lieu of a 'lesser' comic book. Well, enough of that; once I finish A Game of Thrones, I am going to read Planet Hulk, and my inner elitist can shut the fuck up. I am going to read a series of pretty pictures showing a large green man punching things, and that is all there is to it. After that, I will probably start on Anathem, which has floated to the top of my reading list for two main reasons: One, it looks to provide an exploration of the brilliant concepts I wanted from Thief of Time, but which Pratchett was never going to have given. Two, I fear that if I don't read it soon, Sven may forget all other words in the English language.
I have now drifted wildly far of my point.
'Stop writing!' That was it. There is more to this outcry than the fear of being overcome by mounting literary rockfaces (this has already happened; there are a myriad of books out there I will never get the chance to read). It's also a plea to the writers of serials who feel the need to revisit chapters in their writing history that are already closed.
The latest offender that has come to my attention is Jonathan Stroud, who has announced work on a fourth book about Bartimaeus. He of the Bartimaeus *Trilogy*. Now, the Bart Trilogy is something I've always admired for being an example of a perfectly constructed trilogy. It contains three self-contained stories, and also a powerful arc. Stroud clearly planned everything from the beginning, and used the trilogy structure to accomplish things that couldn't have been done otherwise. And, perhaps most astoundingly, he mounted up tension constantly until a brilliant climax which lived up to the preceding build-up. But now he's adding a fourth book. I should say at this point, I am actually quite excited for this new addition. Stroud's posts on his journal suggest he has spent a long time developing it, and I'm quite hopeful. But no matter how good it is, it will still undermine that perfect trilogy structure, and that capstone ending. Perhaps for this reason I am really hoping that this story will be distanced from the trilogy, linked mostly just by Bartimaeus, and focussing on his character, either as a prequel or a well-distanced sequel. I would actually really like a historical Bartimaeus story, building on his anecdotal footnotes, but I am trying not to get my hopes up, as there is nothing to suggest that this is what it'll be.
On the other hand, there is a book I have no hope for. You've probably heard that Eoin Colfer has produced And Another Thing, the 'final' book in the H2G2 series. Almost the opposite to Stroud's latest, AAT was actually planned for by Adams, and compiled from his notes. But it has been a long time since the other Hitchhiker novels, a time in which people had moved on - nobody was really clamouring for an addition - and besides, the novels were hardly Adams' strongest output. He bemoaned writing them in interviews, and, whilst the first two form a strong suite (notably being the ones that retell the 'traditional' Hitchhiker plot), the later ones meandered in plot and quality quite badly, providing only one really notable strand: that of the hopelessly doomed Agrajag.
Plenty has already been said about this particular case-in-point, so I won't drag on. I would note, though, that I think it would have been much more satisfying had Adams' notes been given the same treatment as The Salmon of Doubt.
Poor Eoin, I am rather ragging on him, but here we go again. I am rather fond of the Artemis Fowl books. They're not perfect - in places contrived and marred by Colfer's eco-warrior agenda - but they are still some of the strongest children's books I've read. (I hold children's books in no lower status to any other, and have no issue comparing them alongside ostensibly 'adult' literature (though arguably neither Stroud nor Adams is), however the majority of children's fiction really is poor, and appears to have been written and published by people who DO feel it only needs aspire to a lesser standard.) Colfer invested the stories with added depth through the interweaving of Irish mythology, cryptography and real-world settings into his plots, as well as broadly-appealing humour and a good sense of character. There was also a refreshingly dark edge to the stories, something fairly rare among kid's books. Here was a kid with no role models and no friends, whose life was devoted to crime, with an almost sociopathic failure to notice consequences that didn't affect him. He's basically antagonistic throughout most of the first book, and still quite shady at times in the second (He SHOOTS HIS FATHER WITH A SNIPER RIFLE). Even in the third book, the supposedly straightened-out Artemis ultimately lets down those close to him.
You'll notice there's a clear character progression there. Again, the first three books form a coherent whole, clearly following a plan from the start. But then Colfer wrote a fourth book. It came out of nowhere and had to go to great pains to explain how it even belonged after the very ending-like ending of the third. Plus, Colfer seemed to have lost his touch with the characteristics that lifted his stories above the average. The humour was now pointedly aimed at children alone, the subtle dark touches eluded him in favour of a few grandiose gestures - unexpectedly killing a major character (spoilers) and bringing back a previous villain driven only by hate - undermined by an excessively nice-and-happy Artemis-and-friends vibe. Plus, the mythology and clever flourishes of previous stories had all but evaporated. It couldn't help but betray its nature as an afterthought, tacked on, forever doomed to live as a red-headed black step-sheep.
And even then, Colfer didn't stop. A fifth and sixth book have since followed, and a seventh coming soon. The fifth book was an improvement on the fourth, showing a return to the the strengths of the initial three, and ending on a surprisingly bleak note that hinted Colfer had a plan once again. (Artemis (with a missing finger) is skipped five years into the future, to find his friends and family all thought he was dead and have gone on in their lives without him.) It wasn't quite enough to make me read the next, however, as I couldn't shake the feeling that the series was becoming an endless episodic morass. (And it seems I'm not alone, as Colfer started making statements about how he wouldn't write any more Fowl for at least 2 years. (Two years which will have soon elapsed, and lo and behold, a seventh book is announced.))
The problem with all of these cases is not that they produce bad books. That is by no means a given, though it is often true. The issue is that they always undermine the serial that they have been tagged on to, sapping the finality of the ending and weakening the structure of the arc. I will offer this in the authors' defense, however: I don't believe that it is always a case of doing it for the money. Authors get attached to characters. It is a hard thing to never write for them again, after even a single story. Devoting time to an arc, which develops and expands characters significantly, is bound to instill a desire to keep writing for them.
And a final footnote (And another thing?): After twenty years, Dianne Wynne Jones has written a third book in the Howl's Moving Castle continuity. So why isn't she guilty of the same crime? Well, because her stories are more like individual episodes taking place within a continuity than they are constant appendices to a finished tale. Castle in the Air is only tangentially related to Howl's Moving Castle, and doesn't step on its toes. In fact, Jones' skill in producing a sequel which delivered what was expected of it as a sequel, and yet is quite a different and original story, is quite the talent. I haven't read The House of Many Ways yet, but I'm hoping she will have accomplished the same again. (Perhaps also worthy of note, the ending of Howl's Moving Castle always suggested that these characters, and the world around them, would go on having adventures, and thus the sequel did not undermine it in the same way as the above examples.)
Gosh, I need to find more words for 'undermine'.
I have now drifted wildly far of my point.
'Stop writing!' That was it. There is more to this outcry than the fear of being overcome by mounting literary rockfaces (this has already happened; there are a myriad of books out there I will never get the chance to read). It's also a plea to the writers of serials who feel the need to revisit chapters in their writing history that are already closed.
The latest offender that has come to my attention is Jonathan Stroud, who has announced work on a fourth book about Bartimaeus. He of the Bartimaeus *Trilogy*. Now, the Bart Trilogy is something I've always admired for being an example of a perfectly constructed trilogy. It contains three self-contained stories, and also a powerful arc. Stroud clearly planned everything from the beginning, and used the trilogy structure to accomplish things that couldn't have been done otherwise. And, perhaps most astoundingly, he mounted up tension constantly until a brilliant climax which lived up to the preceding build-up. But now he's adding a fourth book. I should say at this point, I am actually quite excited for this new addition. Stroud's posts on his journal suggest he has spent a long time developing it, and I'm quite hopeful. But no matter how good it is, it will still undermine that perfect trilogy structure, and that capstone ending. Perhaps for this reason I am really hoping that this story will be distanced from the trilogy, linked mostly just by Bartimaeus, and focussing on his character, either as a prequel or a well-distanced sequel. I would actually really like a historical Bartimaeus story, building on his anecdotal footnotes, but I am trying not to get my hopes up, as there is nothing to suggest that this is what it'll be.
On the other hand, there is a book I have no hope for. You've probably heard that Eoin Colfer has produced And Another Thing, the 'final' book in the H2G2 series. Almost the opposite to Stroud's latest, AAT was actually planned for by Adams, and compiled from his notes. But it has been a long time since the other Hitchhiker novels, a time in which people had moved on - nobody was really clamouring for an addition - and besides, the novels were hardly Adams' strongest output. He bemoaned writing them in interviews, and, whilst the first two form a strong suite (notably being the ones that retell the 'traditional' Hitchhiker plot), the later ones meandered in plot and quality quite badly, providing only one really notable strand: that of the hopelessly doomed Agrajag.
Plenty has already been said about this particular case-in-point, so I won't drag on. I would note, though, that I think it would have been much more satisfying had Adams' notes been given the same treatment as The Salmon of Doubt.
Poor Eoin, I am rather ragging on him, but here we go again. I am rather fond of the Artemis Fowl books. They're not perfect - in places contrived and marred by Colfer's eco-warrior agenda - but they are still some of the strongest children's books I've read. (I hold children's books in no lower status to any other, and have no issue comparing them alongside ostensibly 'adult' literature (though arguably neither Stroud nor Adams is), however the majority of children's fiction really is poor, and appears to have been written and published by people who DO feel it only needs aspire to a lesser standard.) Colfer invested the stories with added depth through the interweaving of Irish mythology, cryptography and real-world settings into his plots, as well as broadly-appealing humour and a good sense of character. There was also a refreshingly dark edge to the stories, something fairly rare among kid's books. Here was a kid with no role models and no friends, whose life was devoted to crime, with an almost sociopathic failure to notice consequences that didn't affect him. He's basically antagonistic throughout most of the first book, and still quite shady at times in the second (He SHOOTS HIS FATHER WITH A SNIPER RIFLE). Even in the third book, the supposedly straightened-out Artemis ultimately lets down those close to him.
You'll notice there's a clear character progression there. Again, the first three books form a coherent whole, clearly following a plan from the start. But then Colfer wrote a fourth book. It came out of nowhere and had to go to great pains to explain how it even belonged after the very ending-like ending of the third. Plus, Colfer seemed to have lost his touch with the characteristics that lifted his stories above the average. The humour was now pointedly aimed at children alone, the subtle dark touches eluded him in favour of a few grandiose gestures - unexpectedly killing a major character (spoilers) and bringing back a previous villain driven only by hate - undermined by an excessively nice-and-happy Artemis-and-friends vibe. Plus, the mythology and clever flourishes of previous stories had all but evaporated. It couldn't help but betray its nature as an afterthought, tacked on, forever doomed to live as a red-headed black step-sheep.
And even then, Colfer didn't stop. A fifth and sixth book have since followed, and a seventh coming soon. The fifth book was an improvement on the fourth, showing a return to the the strengths of the initial three, and ending on a surprisingly bleak note that hinted Colfer had a plan once again. (Artemis (with a missing finger) is skipped five years into the future, to find his friends and family all thought he was dead and have gone on in their lives without him.) It wasn't quite enough to make me read the next, however, as I couldn't shake the feeling that the series was becoming an endless episodic morass. (And it seems I'm not alone, as Colfer started making statements about how he wouldn't write any more Fowl for at least 2 years. (Two years which will have soon elapsed, and lo and behold, a seventh book is announced.))
The problem with all of these cases is not that they produce bad books. That is by no means a given, though it is often true. The issue is that they always undermine the serial that they have been tagged on to, sapping the finality of the ending and weakening the structure of the arc. I will offer this in the authors' defense, however: I don't believe that it is always a case of doing it for the money. Authors get attached to characters. It is a hard thing to never write for them again, after even a single story. Devoting time to an arc, which develops and expands characters significantly, is bound to instill a desire to keep writing for them.
And a final footnote (And another thing?): After twenty years, Dianne Wynne Jones has written a third book in the Howl's Moving Castle continuity. So why isn't she guilty of the same crime? Well, because her stories are more like individual episodes taking place within a continuity than they are constant appendices to a finished tale. Castle in the Air is only tangentially related to Howl's Moving Castle, and doesn't step on its toes. In fact, Jones' skill in producing a sequel which delivered what was expected of it as a sequel, and yet is quite a different and original story, is quite the talent. I haven't read The House of Many Ways yet, but I'm hoping she will have accomplished the same again. (Perhaps also worthy of note, the ending of Howl's Moving Castle always suggested that these characters, and the world around them, would go on having adventures, and thus the sequel did not undermine it in the same way as the above examples.)
Gosh, I need to find more words for 'undermine'.
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