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Catch-22
21 week ago
You’ve just read a book so good that you want everyone else to read it immediately, but you know that if you approach the subject with too much enthusiasm, you risk overselling the book and causing the opposite outcome. In fact, the more you say, the more likely you’ll mention something that person hates about books, thus ensuring they never read it. Or, in your haste and excitement, you might offer your own rash interpretation, implying the book is about something it isn’t, and thereby cause yet another person to pass on a wonderful piece of literature. Such is the unresolvable dilemma I find myself in with Catch-22.
Suffice it to say, I absolutely loved reading this book. It starts slowly, as Heller’s writing style (and the way he jumps back and forth through time) has its own unique rhythm. Once you grow accustomed to it, however, it becomes utterly engrossing. This is an especially odd thing to say because there’s nearly zero plot in the book. Instead, it focuses almost entirely on characters, and the crazy, bizarre, emotional, disturbing, horrifying, hilarious antics that fill their lives during war.
Yes, Catch-22 is a book about war. Or rather, it is a book that takes place during war. Don’t be discouraged, though, if you don’t usually gravitate to such books, because it’s more about the people than the fighting.
All I really want to say is please read this book. It is a beautifully crafted work of literature that has easily catapulted into my top 5 favorite books. I cannot wait to read it again, as it really is a masterpiece.
“It was almost no trick at all, he saw, to turn vice into virtue and slander into truth, impotence into abstinence, arrogance into humility, plunder into philanthropy, thievery into honor, blasphemy into wisdom, brutality into patriotism, and sadism into justice. Anybody could do it; it required no brains at all.” (363) – Permanent Link.
The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
03 weeks ago
I read Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land last year and I didn’t enjoy it, despite its strong start. In addition to my disappointment over the book, I was also surprised by the fact that I didn’t like it. Here we had what is considered one of the greatest science fiction books of all time, and all I can do is criticize it for being heavy-handed and dull. Shouldn’t this be exactly the kind of thing I love to read?
Since my experience with Stranger last year, I really had no intention of reading anything else by Heinlein. Still, he is considered a master in the genre and there were definitely some promising aspects to Stranger. And if C.S. Lewis is right when he says you can’t criticize a book the first time to read it (shh…don’t tell him I do that every time), I certainly don’t have the right to ignore everything else by Heinlein just because of one reading of one book.
And a good thing I didn’t give up on him, because everything Stranger gets wrong, The Moon is A Harsh Mistress gets right. Mistress tells the story of Mannie, a computer technician who becomes involved in a rebellion whose goal is to free the residents of the Moon from the tyrannical control of the Authority. Heinlein does a great job of introducing the conflict to us, and sets up a scenario in which there is tension about the ultimate success of the rebellion. While this aspect of the book is good, it’s certainly not what really makes it shine.
What does make The Moon is a Harsh Mistress a great book to read is the depth to which Heinlein goes to create a world in which people don’t just visit the moon, but actually live on the moon. Through the process of exposing how Mannie and his friends coordinate their rebellion, Heinlein subtly and thoroughly shows us what it’s like to work, play, marry, love, hate, eat, drink, and make war on the moon. What makes this all great, though, is how his strategy to reveal all this differs from Stranger. Instead of telling us what it’s like to live on the moon, Heinlein shows us, in the small moments between the larger scale of rebellion against earth. It’s subtle, but wonderfully executed, and makes the book a real pleasure to read.
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to live on the moon, with a 3:1 male to female population, while attempting to rebel against a heartless Terran government (and really, who hasn’t?) then The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is definitely for you. If, somehow, you haven’t wondered that, I still recommend the book if you enjoy an author who uses great characters and an interesting plot to help us earthworms consider the nuances of something as foreign as Lunar life.
Full database entry on The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Beware spoilers
Pitching Max Werner
23 weeks ago
Max Werner, 15, can see in the dark – a secret not even his best friend Tom knows. More sly than brave, Max has used his special gift for years to roam the streets of his neighborhood committing petty crimes and various acts of harmless delinquency. He prefers hiding from danger, safe in the shadows that only his sight can penetrate, rather than confronting anything head on.
His misdeeds bring him more than a few stolen goods, however, when he runs across a band of inhuman thieves that don’t take kindly to Max invading their territory. These strange bandits kidnap Max’s little sister as punishment for his indiscretion, forcing him to put what little courage he does have to the test.
Afraid to make the rescue attempt alone, Max must first convince Tom to join the adventure. Even with his perfect night vision, the giant spiders, bottomless pits, and blood-thirsty criminals that stand between Max and his sister may mean that none of them make it out alive.
A Selective History of Max Werner is a young adult adventure for all those who have ever wondered what secrets lay in the deepest shadows, the blackest cave, or the darkest night.
Or so goes the pitch I’m submitting to the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award later this month. It surprised me how difficult writing a pitch like this was. In 300 words or less I need to convince someone who knows absolutely nothing about my book that it’s worth reading more of.
How do I distill everything about the book into so few words? Well, unfortunately, I leave a lot out. No mention of the tension between Jenny (the sister), Max, and Tom, or the pet bird that Max rescues, or the footnotes that litter the book with ironic faux-history, or the evil Boss that leads the band of thieves and is the real villain of the book, or numerous other things that might spoil the story. All of it, gone.
Hopefully that will be enough to get me through to the second round, where the judges read the first 5,000 words of the book and can get a better taste of everything it has to offer. Hopefully! (If you have any suggestions for how I can improve the pitch, feel free to offer them below.)
In the meantime if you are interested in reading A Selective History of Max Werner you can find it on amazon. The Kindle version will be free as often as I can make it, so keep an eye on my twitter for when those deals go live. If you don’t have a Kindle eReader (or don’t want to wait until the next free offer) and want to check the book out, just leave a comment below or message me on twitter.
Special thanks to Jocelyn Mathewes for the amazing cover art.
Across the Nightingale Floor
81 year ago
One of the things I love about reading is being able to draw connections between the story I just finished and a conversation I’m having with a friend, or some other book I just read, no matter how different the two may seem. Whether it’s Tufte’s Visual Display of Quantitative Information and getting people to go to church, or the asides of Don Quixote and the Tale of Genji, it’s all connected. Or, as Thomas Foster says in How to Read LIterature like a Professor, it’s all one story:
“We – as readers or writers, tellers or listeners – understand each other, we share knowledge of the structures of our myths, we comprehend the logic of symbols, largely because we have access to the same swirl of story. We have only to reach out into the air and pluck a piece of it” (192).
Across the Nightingale Floor and C.S. Lewis’ essay “On Stories” is yet another example. In this essay, Lewis emphasizes that what makes a story great isn’t as simple as a sense of danger or excitement, or not knowing what will happen next. Instead, it is all the elements of that story, combined in their own unique way, that are important.
Thus, if a story is good, you can’t simply replace one exciting element with another (for example, having your life threatened by pirates being replaced by having your life threatened by regular robbers) because the new element doesn’t contain all the implications and history of the original. In the case of our example, even though you could just as easily die at the hands of regular robbers, they don’t bring to the table all the components of a pirate attack (namely, parrots).
So why am I talking about pirates when Across the Nightingale Floor is about a young boy’s journey of revenge in a world full of ninjas and samurai? Because if it weren’t for Lewis’ insight into this aspect of Story, I don’t think I would have realized what makes Across the Nightingale Floor such a good book. I would have still enjoyed it, because it is good, but my recommendation would not have been any more sophisticated than “This book was good. I don’t know why, but there’s just something so much fun about reading it. I can’t wait to pick up the sequel.” There’s nothing wrong with a reaction like that, but it certainly wouldn’t give a very compelling reason why you should read it.
I don’t want to ruin any of the specific moments, but my full database entry has them if you want the details. In general, though, Across the Nightingale Floor is great because of the personal reaction we have to a world full of Samurais, Ninjas, revenge, faith, compassion, loyalty, and just a little bit of magic. Combined, these elements create a Story that is far more than the individual moments that make it up. If you are a fan of Story, this is definitely a book for you.
Full database on Across the Nightingale Floor. Beware spoilers.
Of Other Worlds: Essays and Stories
21 year ago
I’ve never felt the need to defend the enjoyment I get out of reading science fiction or fantasy novels. As a result, though, I’ve never really considered what it is about these types of books that interests me so much. Fortunately, C.S. Lewis has, and in this collection of essays, he perfectly articulates why such stories are worth reading, writing, and discussing.
It’s not worth summarizing each of the essays here (they are so efficiently executed that it’s hard to trim anything out in summary), but there are a few points that Lewis makes that I want to highlight.
First, he repeatedly points out that, regardless of audience or subject matter, a good book is simply a good book. If it’s not good enough for adult’s to read, then why should our children? He also enjoys emphasizing the idea that one should not arbitrarily choose a genre, but should let the story dictate the best means of delivery. These are just two of the many points he raises, and I’m hardly doing them justice. Lewis brings so much warmth and humor to each essay that you should really just read them.
In addition to a collection of fascinating essays (see the number of times I had to mark a sentence or idea that I wanted to return to), Of Other Worlds also has several short stories and the beginning of an unfinished novel. While these stories were good, it was definitely the essays that make this collection worth reading.
This book has reminded me how much I love reading Lewis’ writing and, as a result, you’re probably going to be seeing a lot more posts about his works. Most of it will be nonfiction, not because it’s any better than his fiction, but just because I haven’t read most of it.
I recommend this to anyone who enjoys reading about literature, even if they hate science fiction or fantasy. I say this not because I think Lewis will convince you to suddenly start liking them, but because his humility and insight may increase your respect for these genres. It won’t make you want to read them, but it may help you understand where those of us who enjoy them so much are coming from.
“I am almost inclined to set up as canon that a children’s story which is enjoyed only by children is a bad children’s story” (24).
“When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up” (25).
The Handmaid’s Tale
21 year ago
Wow, it’s been so long since I last posted that you’re probably thinking I decided to read The Tale of Genji all over again. I did not, though, so I promise that’s the last reference to the length of Genji that I’ll make (in this post). No, the real reason I haven’t been posting is due to a combination of being on vacation with no internet, and laziness. I was still reading, however, so let’s get to that.
The Handmaid’s Tale, sexual pun intended, is set in a futuristic dystopian society and tells the story of a Handmaid – a religiously and politically sanctioned concubine. The Handmaid who serves as our narrator is not a huge fan of her new role in society.
Though Atwood does an excellent job of creating a cohesive, well-realized, and clearly defined society, I would not go so far as to say the events she portrays are believable. I don’t think our own society is just one step away from heading down this particular path. That isn’t a criticism, however, because I don’t think you have to consider this a real possibility to appreciate what Atwood is trying to tell us.
As a matter of fact, one of my favorite aspects of this book is how it captures both the bad qualities of the society before the new “Handmaid” regime is put in place, as well as the “Handmaid” regime itself. It would probably have been easier just to cast the latter regime in an evil light, but I appreciate that Atwood was willing to criticize the extremes of the pre-dystopian society as well.
I definitely recommend The Handmaid’s Tale, especially to anyone interested in dystopian literature. However, considering how well-crafted the book is, I don’t think you have to be a fan of similar books to enjoy this book.
“Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations” (270).
Full database entry on The Handmaid’s Tale. Beware spoilers.
The Tale of Genji
91 year ago
If you’ve been reading this blog recently, you know that I’ve been reading (and enjoying) The Tale of Genji. I’ll do my best not to reiterate anything I’ve said already, but that shouldn’t be hard considering there are so many great things happening in this book.
First of all, the briefest of synopses. The Tale of Genji follows 4 generations of individuals in Japan’s Imperial court during the late 10th Century (which is also when it was originally written). Though Genji is the main character, he is not the only one we get to know in this epic tale.
Ultimately, though, it’s not what happens in The Tale of Genji that makes it so appealing (not to say that there isn’t a lot that happens. Here’s a quick rundown off the top of my head: sex, rape, death, cuckolding, spirit possession, exorcism, suicide, inclement weather, exile, love, jealousy, infidelity.) It is the characters, and the reality of their hopes, fears, joys, heartaches, desires, and transgressions that make Genji such a compelling work of fiction. Or, in Genji’s own words:
“Not that tales accurately describe any particular person, rather, the telling begins when all those things the teller longs to have pass on to future generations – whatever there is about the way people live their lives, for better or worse, that is a sight to see or a wonder to hear – overflows the teller’s heart” (461).
I think I have already given The Tale of Genji the highest recommendation that I can – I spent the last month reading, and enjoying, all 1120 pages. At no point did I even consider giving up, or reading something else instead. I never got bored, I never even motivated myself with another book (which I do all the time). In fact, the only frustration I did feel in the last month was frustration over not having more time to read. If you have the opportunity, you should definitely pick up The Tale of Genji. Between its individual style and unique place in history and literature, you won’t ever read anything else quite like it.
“How true it is that bitter experience yields fond memories!” (815).
For more information, see the full database entry on The Tale of Genji. Beware spoilers.
Perelandra
41 year ago
Instead of listening to audio books during my daily commute, I have recently been enjoying lectures from The Great Courses. These cover all types of subjects, from classical mythology, to Einstein’s theory of relativity. The one I just finished, however, was a 12 lecture series on the life and writings of C.S. Lewis. I complimented this listening experience by reading Perelandra, the second book in Lewis’s classic Space Trilogy.
I’ve read Perelandra before, as well as a number of Lewis’s other works, but by listening to lectures discussing major themes of his work in general, while simultaneously reading a single work in depth, I was able to enjoy it at a much deeper level. I encourage anyone with the time or opportunity to do something similar.
As for the book itself, Perelandra follows Ransom (a professor of philology) on another interstellar adventure – this time to Venus (or Perelandra). While there, he becomes involved in Perelandra’s own Edenic struggle to resist temptation.
I loved reading Perelandra. Lewis’s ability to make the temptation believable, and compelling, is extremely impressive. In fact, the dialogue of this book is far more exciting than the “action” moments. Full of fascinating ideas, Perelandra is easy for me to recommend – to a certain audience. I can see how many, however, might not enjoy it nearly as much as I have.
First of all, science fiction fans who aren’t interested in Lewis’s Christian theology would find this book endlessly frustrating. Lewis makes no attempt to hide the Christian elements of this work, and I can see how someone who is not predisposed to believe the same things as Lewis would criticize this as being preachy or even condescending.
On the other hand, those who may hold the same beliefs as Lewis may not be as interested in a book that is so very science fiction. In fact, the sci-fi qualities are even more obvious than the Christian elements to the story, making a predisposition for enjoying this kind of work even more necessary. However if, like me, you are interested in rigorous theology in your hardcore science fiction, then this is definitely the book for you. That has to be one of the nerdiest things I’ve ever said.
“There seems to be no plan because it is all plan: there seems no centre because it is all centre” (218).
Don Quixote – First Part
31 year ago
Okay, I confess I cheated; I decided to read only the First Part of Don Quixote. This part, at 459 pages, is technically a complete book in its own right. It was published in 1605, 10 years before the second part that makes up the other half of the copy you see depicted to the left. I will get around to the rest of it eventually but, honestly, I just needed a break.
I feel bad saying I needed a break because I really enjoyed Don Quixote. If you read my First Line post on Don Quixote you know I was having a blast halfway through the first part. It was funny, intelligent, modern, and creative.
At about 300 pages in, however, Cervantes decides to interrupt what could have easily been the most interesting and entertaining part of the book with two complete novellas. Seriously, he interrupts the action to tell two complete stories that deal with characters and plot that are entirely unrelated to Don Quixote. To be fair, these stories are good, but at this point in the main novel I’m reading, I honestly just don’t care what happens to these other characters. I want to get back to Sancho and Don Quixote, not read about The Man Who Was Recklessly Curious.
This post sounds a little negative, but only because I said so many positive things previously. Fortunately, all of those positives are still true and, as a result, Don Quixote is still a recommended read. However, I can completely understand why an abridged version would remove the two novellas that come so late in the work. In fact, I would go so far as to say, if you do decide to read Don Quixote, skip the novellas and finish the main story. Then, because they are good enough in their own right to warrant it, go back and read each novella. I know it’s a little vain to think that I can suggest a better way to enjoy a book than the author, but I really think your experience will be far superior if you separate the actual Don Quixote story from the two novellas.
“That’s the way,” said Sancho, “I’ve heard it said in sermons, we should love Our Lord: for Himself alone, not because we hope for glory or are afraid of punishment. But I’d rather love and serve Him for what He can do” (263).
Full database entry on Don Quixote. Beware spoilers.
The Well at the World’s End Volume I
51 year ago
We spent Easter weekend with some friends in Denton, TX. While there, I had the opportunity to go to the best used book store I’ve ever seen: Recycled Books. In addition to being clean, well-organized, and having the most amazing selection of books, they also had a wide array of collector’s items. As I was perusing the fantasy/sci-fi collector’s section, my attention was drawn to The Wood Beyond the World by William Morris. I glanced at it, saw that it claimed to be “the first fantasy novel ever written”, but decided to put it back and picked up The Well at the World’s End instead. I didn’t know anything about this book, but it fascinated me for some reason. Plus, the back had a quote by C.S. Lewis saying it was great. That, plus the $4 price tag, were enough to sell me.
All that said, I probably should have actually read some of the book to see if I would enjoy it, rather than buying it blindly. I was quite shocked when I opened it up and the first thing I read was “Long ago there was a little land, over which ruled a regulus or kinglet, who was called King Peter, though his kingdom was but little” (1). What? Why does a book written in 1896 (about the same time as James Joyce’s Dubliners, as a matter of fact) sound like it is from the 15th century? I was disappointed, frustrated, and by page 20, I was ready to quit. I pushed on, however, and I’m extremely glad I did.
The Well at the World’s End may utilize archaic language, but once you get used to it, you realize what a rich world the story contains. Ralph, the main character in search of the Well, is youthful, brave, and not afraid to love. While at first I found the language to be a hindrance, by the end I found it added to the sense of fantasy and antiquity that make the book so interesting.
It’s also interesting to consider Morris as an influence on Tolkien and all modern fantasy writers (a common claim I saw online when looking up information on Morris). In terms of tone and style there were definitely some similarities to The Lord of the Rings (perhaps I will detail these on a later blog post?). If you are at all interested in fantasy, and are willing to make the effort to get comfortable with the archaic writing, you will really enjoy The Well at the World’s End. It surprises me to say this given my early dislike of the book, but in the end I was enthralled with the tale and can’t wait to find out what happens in Volume II.
“Maybe thou art seeking for what is not. Or maybe thou shalt seek and shalt find, and there may be naught in what thou findest, whereof to give thee such gifts as are meet for they faithfulness and valiancy. But in thine home shouldst thou have all gifts which thou mayest desire” (257).
Full database entry on The Well at the World’s End Volume I. Beware Spoilers.