Third Class Superhero, Charles Yu

A forthcoming book caught my eye last month: How To Live Safely In A Science Fictional Universe, by Charles Yu. It had a slick cover, and I got my hands on a copy to review. While I was waiting, I did a bit of background research on the author, coming up with only one other work to his name, Third Class Superhero, a collection of short stories. Yu, who was selected by the National Book Foundation as one of the '5 under 35' authors to watch in 2007, and seems to be a promising writer to keep an eye on, demonstrates an exceptional skill throughout Third Class Superhero.

The book is a collection of eleven short stories, each of which covers a broad range of subjects, but each with a very poignant style that goes right to the heart of contemporary and speculative fiction. Reading over the book, there's clearly an edge towards speculative fiction, but if anything, it's the subtle touches and even the style of the prose that pushes the book over the genre edge, allowing Yu to tell a number of stories that are highly relatable in any setting. The title story, Third Class Superhero, is by far my favorite, one that looks to a struggling superhero, something that would fit well in the worlds created for Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog or the UK show No Heroics. It's a story that's singularly human, demonstrating the temptations and dreams of the more average, overshadowed by others who are more skilled. A couple of other stories, such as 401k, and Man of Quiet Desperation Goes on Short Vacation look to some of the problems in a modern, commercial world, where we are so connected with everybody, but so alone at the same time.

What struck me far more, however, was not necessarily the content of the stories, but the style in which they were laid out. Thinking back to the stories that I read, the only word that can adequately sum up the books is 'Surreal', something that seems to be incredibly difficult to accomplish for any writer. Moreover, where it's difficult to get subject matter across in such a fashion, the presentation itself is generally difficult to accomplish, and Yu manages to accomplish both excellently, using the stories, characters and content in most of the book to specific methods where tailored towards specific ways in which the story was written, by changing the tense and even physical appearance of the story to suit his needs. The result is content and the physical delivery of the content that go towards approaching specific themes that the writer is trying to convey to the reader.

What Yu does here is what every story, (long or short) should be doing: presenting a problem, in a fictional setting, that allows for someone to relate to and examine said problem outside of the regular contexts. This way, they can come across avenues of thought that might be different with the differing contexts. Allegory comes in any number of means, and I’ve often thought that the science or speculative fiction genres offer one of the more unique ways for people to address problems that they face, either with major, global events, of intensely personal ones that they might otherwise not see an answer to.

The result is a very good collection of short stories, and the praise that Yu has received for already, with only a Third Class Superhero under his belt is very noteworthy indeed. The stories themselves were very interesting - if a bit on the pretentious side of things - and go very much to the heart of critical and contemporary literature. In anything, the series of stories, plus Yu's approach to speculative fiction (subtle, pointed elements, supporting the story, rather than the other way around) leave me very excited to see what's in store for his upcoming How To Live Safely In A Science Fictional Universe in September.

Ship Breaker, by Paolo Bacigalupi

Last year, I was totally blown away by Paolo Bacigalupi's debut novel, The Windup Girl, which has since gone on to win a Nebula, is in the running for a Hugo award later this year and was named as one of Time Magazine's top ten books of the year. The book certainly deserves that attention, and Bacigalupi has rapidly established himself as a rising star in the genre, already with the Theodore Sturgeon award for his short story The Calorie Man in 2006, as well as several Hugo and Nebula nominations for The Calorie Man and The People of Sand and Slag. It comes as no surprise, then, that Ship Breaker, his first foray into Young Adult fiction, is a high quality and fast paced novel, one that is both thought provoking and exciting to the reader.

Set at some point in the indeterminate future, Ship Breaker could easily fit into the worlds that have been established in Bacigalupi's other stories. The age of cheap energy has ended, and the consequences of that time have caught up to civilization. Global warming has caused the oceans to rise and society's boundaries to shift. In the former Gulf Coast region, Nailer Lopez is a Ship Breaker, a young man who is part of a team that goes onboard abandoned and decaying oil tankers and transport ships, stripping them of their wiring and anything of value, which is then turned into a sort of company boss, who sells them to someone else. The citizens in this region are an indentured workforce, unable to move away or to seek out a better life.

For Nailer, his prospects shift dramatically when a major storm (nicknamed a ‘City Killer’, something akin to Katrina, most likely), comes through the area, blowing to shore an advanced clipper ship, one with the daughter of a wealthy company owner onboard. Nailer must navigate through a complicated set of events, each of which can fundamentally change his life for better or worse. Throughout the story, he is faced with choices: to take a monumental risk and hope for something better to happen because of it, or act on his instincts, preserving what is familiar. This is a theme that permeates the book throughout, and for that reason, it’s a solid addition to the Young Adult market, because of the lessons that can be learned from it.

What truly stands out for Ship Breaker, much like The Windup Girl, is that Bacigalupi’s vision of the future, one that seems firmly rooted in reality, transposing current issues into the future. Ironically, I picked up this book around the same time as the ongoing Deepwater Horizon explosion and read it during the resulting oil spill that has since contaminated much of the Gulf in the past five weeks. With that in the back of my mind, it’s clear that Bacigalupi has a point throughout his stories: we need to care for our environment, and his biopunk stories (including the fantastic People of Sand and Slag) really look to this theme.

Like The Windup Girl, this story also integrates a fantastic cast of characters into the environment that he’s put together. Nailer is highly relatable for a protagonist, someone caught in the middle of a vast number of changes outside of his control, and provides a very heroic figure throughout, but one who is tortured by his choices, such as his relationship with his abusive and violent father, and some of his fellow workers. ‘Lucky Girl’, or Nita, plays a sort of damsel in distress, whom Nailer discovers after the storm. Tool is a ‘half-man’, a bioengineered guard, composed of human and canine DNA , who’s broken away from his genetic programming to assist Nailer. All of these elements blend together in a notable book, one that is likely to really win awards.

What struck me the most, however, is the detail and care that has been put into the world-building of this future. While the plot left me wanting a bit more (and keeping in mind that this was a YA novel), what left me far more interested in finishing was the society and issues that Bacigalupi has put into the story. There’s a major stratification of society between the rich and poor, with major industrial powers rising, and with people looking to survive off of whatever they can find. There’s an immense amount of relevant commentary within this book, even though at points, I found the plot to be somewhat predictable. Despite that, it’s certainly far superior to most YA novels that I’ve read recently, and it’s certainly something that will bring more attention to Mr. Bacigalupi.

In the end, Ship Breaker is an exciting and rewarding read, one that is good, and should bring new messages and meanings to a variety of age groups, whether it is to the young adult demographic or to adult speculative fiction readers. Bacigalupi presents, once again, a frightening vision of the future, one that seems very likely to me. While I did not feel that it’s up to the same caliber as The Windup Girl, it stands very well on its own, and leaves me wanting much more from Bacigalupi’s world.

Review: The Mirrored Heavens

David J. Williams' debut novel came out back in 2008, but it came to my attention after I wrote up piece on military science fiction for io9. In it, I looked to an argument that military science fiction generally avoided some of the root lessons and causes of warfare, which helps to dictate how the actions and world around the characters would play out. Williams’ books were recommended by a couple of readers as a good example of this sort of storytelling and world, and I was eager to see how his books lined up with what I had been hoping to see in a military science fiction book.

The Mirrored Heavens is a fun, action packed read. Taking place in 2110, a terrorist act, perpetrated by an unknown group, the Autumn Rain, destroys major construct in space: the Phoenix Space Elevator, shortly before it is activated. Constructed following a Cold War between the United States and a Eurasian Coalition, the destruction of the space elevator throws the main actions of the story together. U.S. counterintelligence agents Claire Haskell and Jason Marlowe, move to seek out the origins of the attack, while several other characters move through the story to their own agendas, culminating in a fairly exciting conclusion.

What works exceptionally well is Williams’ approach to the story is the surrounding back story and world building that helps put warfare into context. Throughout my studies, I’ve found that warfare is not an isolated event, even it is generally treated as such in fiction and in film; it is a complicated and convoluted process of politics, public figures, implementation of policy and foreign relations, before any of the bullets begin to fly. Williams, with a degree in history from Yale, seems to understand this, and has begun his trilogy (followed by The Burning Skies and The Machinery of Light, which is coming out soon) with a strong start.

The Mirrored Heavens is a thriller from start to finish. Williams adds on the action from the get-go, and rarely lets up from there, blending in military science fiction and cyberpunk together to form a pretty unique, high-octane vision of the future. There were points where I just blew through the book. Williams' short, to the point writing style really suits this sort of story, and it really moved things along. Throughout, the actions in the story are well articulated and clear, something that I've seen some writers stumble with. Moreover, the action in the book ultimately does help to support the story, pushing each storyline along bit by bit.

The action is both a good thing and a bad thing, however. While it does serve the story well, The Mirrored Heavens is the literary equivalent of a video game (and it comes as no surprise that Williams worked in the video game industry before turning to writing). At points, it overwhelms the story, and looking back, I have a hard time pulling out a detailed summary of what happened over the course of the book, simply because there is so many lasers, guns and missiles that there were points where I had to put the book down to find something else to do, to clear my head and try and make sense of what was going on. Taken as a whole, the story becomes very clear at the end, but that is of little help prior to that point. Ultimately, the book simply feels unbalanced, with more towards world building and action, and less on the story at hand and character building to fill in, and I'm hoping with the sequel, The Burning Skies, that there'll be a bit more in the way of that. That being said, the book has a significant leg up once you reach the end, and find that everything that has been read through really comes to a fine point, one that really leaves the reader looking for more, and fortunately, there are two further books in the trilogy to read through to get into Williams’ universe. What I really liked the most about this book, however, was the attention to the world building. At the back of my copy is a chronology of events that lead up to the book, reminding me much of George Friedman’s book: The Next 100 Years: A Forecast for the 21st Century. There are similar approaches to how geopolitics will shift over the next century, and where Friedman’s book takes the somewhat academic route, Williams takes the far more entertaining one, set in a futuristic world with spaceflight and cybernetics, and ultimately does what Friedman’s book should have: entertain, and present a somewhat plausible view of the future.

What also really helped was some of the background information present in the book’s appendix, such as the sequence of events, glossary and character list, but in addition to the information in the book, Williams has put together a fantastic website, which functions not only as a promotional item for the book, but also a reference one as well. Both books share a similar message: the future will hold a number of changes, mostly unexpected, and that nations will act in their own interests, even if that means causing a certain amount of chaos in the world to achieve their goals. William’s future is much the same: rogue interests in a government act in their perceived best interests, seeking to take charge where others have failed, leading to what is set up to be a fantastic storyline overall.

At the end of the day, Williams has created a fun book, and a promising start in the genre. While there are certainly a couple of issues that I took from the writing and storytelling, they are more than made up with in the end result: an entertaining, well thought out science fiction/cyberpunk/military SF thriller that really grabs the reader and doesn’t let go until the last page. The Mirrored Heavens is certainly a book that will appeal to the Military SF crowd, but also the video game one, and met with most of my arguments in my article from a couple of months ago with a punch to the head from one of the Razor/Mech teams from the start.

Review: Iron Man 2

Iron Man, when it was released in 2008, was a fantastic example of science fiction taking examples from real life and twisting them around a bit. The first film nicely pulled themes of America’s military influence in the world, and updated it for the modern world , providing a set of themes that really felt relevant to a modern audience. The first film did this in a fairly neat and concise manner. The sequel, on the other hand, falls prey to what seems to be the siren's call of all comic book movies: more action, more villains, more, more and more. Iron Man 2 is by no means a bad film, however. Like the first one, it remains a pretty funny, action packed, amusing film, one that sits well with the first film, and it's easily better than some of the other sequels out there, like Spiderman 3, Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer and X-Men 3. Despite the additional characters, storylines and setup for future films, the movie handles itself well.

Taking off from where the first film left off, Tony Stark is a celebrity, America's big superhero, who commands adoring crowds of people and blows off senators on committees, all the while becoming the protector of the United States. From early on, it's clear that there's a lot that Stark is combating: Senator Stern (what better name for a senator?), who wants the Iron Man suit under the control of the U.S. military, Justin Hammer, a major defense contractor who also wants the suit, Ivan Vankov, who wants revenge upon the Stark family after the death of his father, and Nick Fury, who wants Iron Man to help out with the Avengers. Stark is also facing a serious case of poisoning from the arc reactor that he built in the first film, leading to what looks like an inevitable death, and accordingly, starts to act recklessly: he takes control of his own race car, gets drunk at parties, and generally undermines his own credibility as America's shield and sword. And that's just the first half of the film.

At the midway point, Stark kicks into action. Rhodes makes off with one of his suits and turns it over to the military, who begins working on it for their own uses. Vankov attacks Stark during an F-1 race, and when he's presumably killed in prison, he is whisked away to Justin Hammer's facilities to begin working on suits for Hammer and the military. Stark finds the solution to his poisoning, makes a new suit and discovers some of the truth behind Vankov and his vendetta, all the while discovering that his new assistant (Pepper Potts is now the CEO of Stark Enterprises), is a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.

The plot is certainly action packed, and there's nary a dull moment in the film. Like the first, there's a lot of humor throughout the action, with Robert Downey Jr. slipping right back into the Stark role, and Sam Rockwell absolutely stealing the show as Justin Hammer. Mickey Rorke likewise does a fun job with Ivan Vankov, and a number of supporting characters really do shine throughout. Scarlett Johansen as Black Widow / Natalie Rushman is the only real weak point, but honestly, I'd love to see a Black Widow film after watching her here.

The main issue that I have with the film is this lack of commitment to any one theme, which stems back to what was probably producer requirements: more action, more villains, more characters, and bigger action, and bigger villains. Other films, like the ones mentioned above had dealt with the same sorts of things, and come off badly. Iron Man 2, while it handles them well, doesn't rise to the same level of entertainment as the first film did.

First and foremost, the film is split between stories - numerous subplots reference what has long been seen in the comics: the extremis storyline is touched on, as is the Demon In a Bottle, but in both instances, they're just minor storylines, ones that could really stand to be fleshed out for their own film. In this instance, Extremis leads to the Demon, which worked really well, but there could have been quite a bit more that would have made the film stronger. Where Iron Man 1 was largely a film about warfare and the industrial military complex, Iron Man 2 is much more of a personal story around Stark, one that is diluted quite a bit.

Additionally, where Iron Man 1 really looked to the war in Afghanistan for a good place to lay down its story, this sequel largely looks to some more modern elements: the military industrial complex at home, and some of the reactions to Stark's coming out at Iron Man. What's interesting is that some similar Cold War themes have been applied to the present day - not necessarily unexpected with a new sort of technology. There's something of a robotic arms race going on amongst numerous militaries of the world right now - with an arms race of military power suits in Iran and North Korea. This element nails things right on the head, but likewise, doesn't really gain traction, but merely remains an underlying plot element, rather than something that could have been fleshed out quite a bit more. In either case, with the personal or military storylines, these would have really made the sequel just as good as the first film.

That being said, there's nothing wrong with what is in Iron Man 2. There's a fairly good balance between the two in the first half of the movie, before rather abruptly cutting to the second half where everything gets into gear and moves towards the finale. Vankov, now under Hammer’s wing, turns to making drones, and with the capture of one of Stark’s suits, another version is created, and unveiled at the Stark Expo, where the Russian takes control and attempts to kill his enemy. The last hour of the film is quite a lot of fun, with action and humor to that brought me to edge of my seat before ending fairly abruptly. Coupled with the other storylines, the film largely feels incomplete, like there are some chunks of filler material that would have helped with this a bit, and will no doubt make the DVD an essential purchase for anyone who really liked the film.

One of the film’s strong points is not only how it balances these elements, but also how it sets up, rather nicely, four additional movies: The Avengers, first and foremost, but also Captain America, Thor and eventually, Iron Man 3. Most films have quite a bit of work with just a single thing, but as Avengers comes closer (now with Joss Whedon at the helm!), individual stories are coming together nicely, and like the comic books, the crossover makes for an interesting move when it comes to franchised films and their audiences. It’ll mean a good investment for Marvel studios (who raked in quite a bit of cash with Iron Man 2 already) but also allows for a good way to tell a larger story over several larger films. Already, I’m interested in what will come of the upcoming Captain America and Thor films, which have recently seen a lot of casting news.

At the end of the day, the film medium, like any form of entertainment, is intended to entertain, and Iron Man 2 certainly met with that standard from early in the film. The first film really didn’t take itself seriously throughout most of the film, and the story fell into place, making it one of the stronger films that’s come out of the Marvel universe lately. Iron Man 2 builds on what really worked for the first, but lags behind just a bit. But, as the bullets and guys in armor start flying around, it’s what everyone intended: a fun, exciting film.

So Runs The World Away

If I had to pick an artist that was my all time favorite, the choice would be fairly easy: Josh Ritter. I first came across his music when I heard him opening for Grace Potter and the Nocturnals at the Waterfront in Burlington, Vermont. It was a fantastic concert, and something about his music really stuck with me when I first heard it. His concert was part of a warm-up for his latest (at the time) album, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter, which had been preceded by Animal Years, two excellent albums, both stellar examples of singer/songwriter folk-rock. I was hooked on his sound, and all of his albums remain on fairly constant rotation in my own music library.

Ritter's latest album, So Runs The World Away, needless to say, has been a highly anticipated album on my part. When I saw him for the second time last year at UVM, he played a number of new songs which have since made it onto the new album, which only made the anticipation grow. Like The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter, this album delves heavily into the storytelling roots that Ritter's been known for, combined with a rich background of sound that makes the album stand out from the pack.

What makes the album even more interesting is the macabre and somewhat gothic nature to the lyrics and sound for So Runs The World Away. Songs like The Curse, Rattling Locks, Folk Bloodbath, The Remnant and Long Shadows really give the album a delightfully darker nature. Out of the entire set of songs, the best song (and it's hard to pick just one), is The Curse, a quiet waltz that tells the story of an Egyptian mummy who awakes when an archeologist discovers him, and he falls in love with her as she takes him to New York City. He learns English and speaks to her, and the two fall in love, but as he gets stronger with new life and pulls away from her, she grows older, and dies, while he lives on. It's a touching story of love and destiny, one that is expertly played out by Ritter and his band, and it's certainly going to be one of my favorite songs from the group.

A couple of other songs on the album carry through with some extremely hard hitting stories: Folk Bloodbath, the story of a, well, bloodbath with a haunting gospel sound to it, while Another New World, the story of an explorer, forced to break up his ship for firewood has a very delicate, chilly sound with some fantastic lyrics. Beyond the story-style songs, other songs on the albums deal with slightly less-concrete themes, such as Change in Time, Southern Pacifica, Rattling Locks and Lantern, each with their own distinctive sound and feel. Ritter has excelled at albums that vary so much in their tone and style, and this album is no different: there is an enormous amount of variety and a certain richness to the sound that makes it a wonder to listen to time and time again.

This also isn’t to say that the album is an overly dark one: Lark sees Ritter positively channeling Paul Simon with his voice and guitar work, Southern Pacifica has a nice, easygoing feel to it that recalls an older, nostalgic time in history, Lantern is a bouncy, exciting song that really carries a lot of Ritter’s energy, and Orbital is full of movement that flows nicely towards the end of the album. The darker elements of So Runs The World Away simply tends to be a bit more interesting, with some very cool stories that really mark Ritter as an expert singer/songwriter, who’s only grown stronger with each successive album that’s come out. Musically, this album blew me away. There’s a real diversity to the sound here, from horns to piano, to a bass clarinet at one point, which both makes the song sound a bit different, with more depth, and demonstrates that there’s a bit more thought put into the album and songs, but not enough to be overwhelming or really take the listener out of the experience. Moreover, the album feels different, as The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter felt different from Animal Years. In both instances, there’s certainly a progression in the sound and experience that the band wants to impart, and I’m thrilled that they haven’t gone back to rely on what worked last time: they continued forward and found what worked this time.

What really stands out for me with So Runs the World Away is the storytelling, something that fits nicely with other songs on older albums. Songs like The Temptation of Adam and Lillian, Egypt, among others, hold to the greatest things that a song can do: tell a story, and in that, give something for a listener to relate to and learn from. This particular album is full of science fiction and fantasy like elements, either in the lyrics, themes or song titles, but moreover, the emphasis on songwriting, and exploring beyond a really simple concept, like in most rock & pop songs out there. That’s not to say that those songs don’t have their own place: they do, but what makes Ritter really stand out is that he’s one of the few that really goes beyond that, telling stories of silent film stars, a couple in a nuclear missile silo at the end of the world, a mummy come to life: these are fun concepts, putting these very common concepts into different contexts, which makes someone think a little differently about something that they may have taken for granted: one of the strongest points of the speculative fiction genre.

This collection is easily the best set together that has been released by Josh Ritter and his group – certainly all of the songs on the album hold a lot of appeal with their somewhat geeky nature, but there is a general level of quality and care that a lot of other albums really don’t hit when released. Ritter has hit that mark already, and surpassed my expectations.

Review: Karin Lowachee's The Gaslight Dogs

In the summer of 2002, my friend Sam Gallagher passed me a copy of a book that he had just read, Warchild, by Karin Lowachee, which I read through quickly, and really enjoyed - I blew through the next two books in the trilogy, Burndive and Cagebird, both of which were fun reads, but nothing that really inspired me like the first one. I ended up buying a couple of copies of the book, passing one along to a college friend who shared a mutual interest in science fiction books. Then, Karin fell off the map, and for a while, I wondered if the Warchild trilogy had been a fluke. It had won a number of nominations, and it would have seemed that Lowachee was going to become one of those bigger names in the Science Fiction genre.

Karin is back this year, after a multiple year break, with The Gaslight Dogs, a fantasy/historical novel that is the first of a proposed trilogy set in an interesting new world. Captured after murdering a Kabwi soldier, a spiritwalker named Sjennonirk is compelled to teach her people's abilities to an officer in the southern people's army - Captain Jarrett Fawle, the son of a prominent general. The Fawle family has some secrets, and as events transpire, the younger Fawle carries the same abilities that Sjenn carries: the ability to contain part of one's more wild side or spirit into a physical manifestation - The Dog.

Over the course of this story, Sjenn, the reluctant prisoner and teacher demonstrates and teaches Jarrett about these specific abilities, something that his father intends to wield as a sort of weapon within his army. Over the course of the story comes with it a twisted plot of familial history and drama, multi-cultural issues and the central issue of the responsibilities of power. Lowachee puts together an interesting tale that is in need of its follow up novels, with a compelling world and characters to go along with it.

We've seen both with Lowachee's books: a strong sense for building worlds permeated her Warchild novels, creating a plausible space culture, in all of its different facets. The same carries over very well with the change of genre here, where Inuit culture and the historical conquest of the North American continent really informs the world that has been set up. If anything, the novel provides a great change in venue away from the typical European settings in which most fantasy novels seem to be laid down in. Lowachee deserves praise for adapting the historical elements of real life into her fictional novel so seamlessly.

One of the main elements that really stands out for me is just how stripped down and stark this novel feels for a sort of speculative fiction entry: Karin uses her magic sparingly, pushing to the roots of what are likely mythological or other stories in the real world, but leaving the magic for specific instances: The Calling of the Dog, for example, is one of the few instances in which magic or supernatural forces are at work here, and honestly, the book works much better for those efforts: it feels, as a whole, far more realistic.

The sparse use of magic provides the backdrop for some of the more pressing matters in the book: the characters. Sjenn, General and Captain Fawle and the numerous supporting characters that appear throughout the book, each with their own motivations and objectives, which play out over the book. Sjenn is attempting to figure out her surroundings and get back to her people (although only slightly, which confused me a little), Jarrett is torn between his duty between his family and military duties, while General Fawle seems to be bent on acquiring power, no matter what is in his way.

There’s clearly a good sense here that characters really make the story here, and for the most part, that’s true. There were times when character reactions felt a bit forced (Jarrett’s drinking/rebelling against his father) and character actions were a bit unclear, and there were points where a character simply vanished for most of the book. A glossary / character list would have been a bit helpful, but those are superficial matters.

The Gaslight Dogs represents a solid comeback for Lowachee and her fantastic prose. It’s been a very long wait indeed for her books, but not only was it worth it, it was worth it to see that she didn’t try and do something over again, testing new ground and stories, which makes me more interested in a follow up novel.

The Clash of the Titans

For Christmas last year, my girlfriend bought me a copy of Jason and the Argonauts, the 1963 Don Chaffey film that featured a number of technical innovations, the coolest of which was the skeleton fight scene. We both really enjoyed the film, including its fairly decent special effects, which I found to hold up quite well with the test of time. I've long been a fan of the various Greek and to a lesser extent, the Roman mythology. As such, I was really looking forward to the recent remake of Clash of the Titans.

This is not a movie that I had any major expectations of, and in that way, it completely met my expectations by being the film equivalent of a big, dumb Labrador. Very nice to look at, and quite a lot of fun, but really, really dumb. Clash of the Titans is a big, dumb movie. But quite a bit of fun to watch. The film had the requisite amount of action, some very nice lighting with a couple of the epic looking scenes that really scream 'Epic'. Where the film really succeeded though was where the production design and overall look and feel of the film: it looks like a concept artist's dream project. As the heroes set out from Argos to track down Medusa, they venture through forests to deserts to volcanoes, and there's quite a bit of really good scenery and setting here. What impressed me more was the crossing of the river Styx and the ferryman Charon. There was a large amount of detail there, with little touches that really made that stand out for me. Other scenes, such as the background of Argos and the Underworld itself worked just as well. Along the same lines, the Djinn, Sand-Demons with magical powers, which brings the film far more into the realm of fantasy than over any sort of adaptation of myth, were particularly fun to watch - constructs of dark magic and wood.

The action also really was a lot of fun to watch, with any number of monsters, soldiers and people waving swords at one another and attempting to kill each other. The camera work was good, and I have to say that the battle against the giant scorpions was something that kept me at the edge of my seat. The film presents itself as a completely over the top thrill that really is one of the few reasons to actually watch: it doesn't feel like it's taking itself seriously, from beginning to end, which I appreciated.

Still, I couldn't help but think that there were things that could have been done far better. The acting from some very good actors, such as Ralph Fiennes and Liam Neeson was abysmal throughout, and Sam Worthington continues his trend of fairly lack-luster performance from Avatar into the ancient times. The acting element was something that I wasn't too annoyed with, but at points, the story itself could have been tightened up quite a bit more, particularly when it came to the relationship between Zeus and Hades, which has essentially been likened to a Christianity-themed relationship, with Zeus taking on the part of God, and Hades, Lucifer. I can't really think of a good reason as to why this was done, but it's certainly a major departure from the mythos of the characters. (However, I have to continue to remind myself that this move as a whole is a major departure). What bothers me the most though, is that this film could have gone both ways, either a serious retelling of the myth, or a complete pulp version. Clash of the Titans as a whole falls somewhere in between. It's fun, but not as much fun as it could have been.

Review: The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

N.K. Jemisin's debut album, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is a novel that blew me away with its writing and storytelling. Set in a fantasy world where The Three gods have been entrapped with humanity, Jemisin crafts a world that is intricate and delicate, with a complicated set of politics and religions, where the story reaches a crossroads between morality and revenge.

At the dawn of history, the three gods (Nahadoth, Enefa and Itempas) warred against one another. Nahadth, god of the night, was imprisoned, while Enefa, god of Dusk, and creator of all life in the universe, was killed, and Itempas, god of the day, overcame both, and became the supreme ruler. Nahadoth, in punishment, was chained and sent to serve the Arameri, a ruling family that, with the power of a god at their disposal, came to rule the entire world.

Yeine, the story's central character, becomes entangled in this story when she is recalled to the city Sky, the ruling seat of the Arameri family, from which her family had been cast out. Growing up in Darr, a far north kingdom, and whose inhabitants are often regarded as barbarians, Yeine finds that she is in an entirely different world all together, and finds that there are a number of different plans and expectations of her, from both the Arameri family, to which she is the heir to the entire throne, and the imprisoned god Nahadoth and his offspring themselves.

Jemisin creates an extremely strong, well-written character story with The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms. Between the incredible amount of world building, political and family structures and intricate plot lines, this story is wonderfully original, intriguing and thought provoking. Yeine's character is something wholly different in the fantasy genre, far from the adventurer or reformer in a fantastic world, she voices her story, with her own confusions and objectives throughout. Pulled into a vicious society and power struggle, Yeine begins to seek out her mother's killer, only to find that that particular story is far more complicated than she imagined.

Over the course of the story, the various characters and their motivations and plotlines begin to merge. Yeine's mother's story is the connection between all of them, from elements of lost love and the actions borne out of desperation, to family obligations that set much of this in order, to the workings of the gods and their struggle to break free from their slavery to the Arameri family. Reaching the end, when the final pieces fall into place, this story resonates with the shear scale of the drama and society that Jemisin has set up.

In the middle of it all is Yeine, who must navigate the various agendas and complete her own journey. At times, it becomes clear that she is merely a pawn in a much larger game, with little choice in the actions that happen around her, especially with the manipulations from the gods and family, but looking deeper, it becomes clear that despite being used on a number of fronts, her saving grace is her character - her own lifetime, experiences and motivations are hers alone: this becomes a large part of the story, and where she surrenders to fate, she becomes a force of her own, quite literally.

This story is set amongst a fantastic, wonderfully thought out world that stands up amongst many other comparable fantasy novels. Too often, the only real innovation comes with the actual land. Here, Jemisin has put together a world that is very complex. The title suggests the world itself, composed of a hundred thousand kingdoms. Of these, only a handful is really looked at, with the city of Sky hovering above. There is a real sense of political struggle between the worlds, with the Arameri family overlooking the organized fiefdoms below, with an enforced peace that seems as if it is ready to break apart.

The Arameri family is in a world apart, far above their subjects, unable to leave their city. Within their own territory, there is a horrifying set of rules and characters as internal politics runs rampant amongst the family, where internal fighting and squabbling turns family members against one another, as they attempt to use the gods in their own favor, ordering them around to carry out their whims.

Still yet is the detailed mythology that is constructed for this novel. Jemisin has really outshone others in this regard, creating a fantastic world with its own creation myths, where the gods walk amongst the people, with all of their own problems and motivations. The caricatures of the gods, especially Nahadoth, are intriguing, loosely based off of Freud’s theories, which in a weird way, makes quite a bit of sense. The portrayal of these gods is what is really interesting, especially with how they interact with the numerous characters that appear in the story. In the end, the story is crafted in such a way that all of their motives and agendas come out organically, as the story unfolds, building up to the end of the story, making this an exceedingly rewarding read, one that proves to be an extremely different sort of fantasy novel. Gone is the sword and sorcery style of fantasy writing. Here, the magic and power is in the society, the politics and the wills of the characters, akin to the way a strong film will rely on its story, rather than the gimmicks that make it look good.

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is a well written, conceived and plotted story that is sure to turn a number of heads over the course of the year. The end of the book provides the first words from the follow up novel, The Broken Kingdoms (The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is the first of the Inheritence Trilogy), which is already too far off to bear. This book contained so much in the way of characters, world building and story that it is a relief to see that it will be continued. Hopefully, that will come sooner, rather than later.

Movie Review: Pandorum

This past weekend, I rented a recently released film called Pandorum, a sci-fi horror film that, while deeply flawed, was a fairly entertaining flick that I've had a couple of thoughts on. At some point in the future, a man awakes violently in a pod, unaware of where he is, how he got there or even who he is. He's onboard a dead spaceship, with little power and no lights. As events transpire, he and a fellow crew member are on board a space ship, and they begin to remember more and more as time goes on. As they work on getting the ship back online before that becomes impossible, and in doing so, discover that what's happened to them is both horrifying and eye-opening.

This film reminded me a lot of Vin Disel's 2001 movie, Pitch Black, in a number of respects, and there were points in the first half of the film that were just downright brilliant, harkening back to what is possibly one of the best space-horror films, Alien. As Bower awakes, he's essentially released into a dark and empty ship, one that has clearly been abandoned for quite some time. Where Pitch Black really utilized a minimal approach to horror while building up the suspense for most of the film, Pandorum should have done much of the same, and did for the first half-hour or so, as Bower and Payton escape from their pods and then out of the room to try and explore much of the ship.

It's there that the film runs into problems: in the time that the ship has been off-line, people have escaped, and a whole new species of humans have arisen (later explained because of some drugs in the hyperbunks to help promote adaptation on a new world) that are predatory and violent. A few random survivors have made their homes in this environment, resorting to cannibalism and hunting to evade the predators. While watching this rather long part of the movie, where Bower tries to get to the ship's main reactor to restart everything and get their bearings, I found it neither scary or all that suspenseful, unlike the first part of the film. While the creatures made for an interesting plot point, they deviated from a point that seemed almost an afterthought at the end: the relationship between chaos and order.

This is a central theme in many books and films, especially when it comes to religion and a number of science fiction books/movies that I've come across, and when this point was brought up in the last act, I realized exactly what this film could have been: a brilliant science fiction thriller, rather than an average chase movie that rarely rose above any sort of interested level.

At two points in the movie, it was revealed that humanity had vanished, as Earth was destroyed for some indeterminate reason. The ship was the last vestige of humanity, and that knowledge drove the original crew mad, and one of the members, Payton, killed his fellow crew members and left the ship to die. He notes at the end that the ability to live without consequence or fear of reprisal is an incredibly liberating one, while Bower worked to preserve the mission and lives of the remaining survivors. In a way, there's a neat relationship there between a life of chaos (life on the ship under Payton's rules) and that of order, as Bower seeks, and eventually achieves, with the death of Payton. The television Babylon 5 is a great example of where this sort of storyline has worked extremely well, with the Shadows war towards the end of the series. I particularly like this storyline because of the ambiguity involved with it, and the lack of any clear direction for the characters. In a way, neither choice is wholly the correct one; either side presents its advantages, in its philosophy, and the true good nor evil comes in the behavior of the characters. In this case, the chaotic route is clearly not a healthy one, as the characters run the risk of getting attacked and eaten.

This is a story point that is ultimately lost in the chase, but is one that could have worked extremely well for this sort of film, as the two characters have forgotten everything, and remember and relearn their surroundings. What's the most frustrating element of the movie isn't what's there, but what isn't there. The mutated humans, while an element that could have provided some shock and awe for the characters, really only exists to add in some extra blood and gore, in the most gratuitous and unnecessary manner, and really only serve to slow the characters down a bit. One of the characters, a Vietnamese man that joins the party, is killed almost as an afterthought at the end, and when we got to the end, I realized that this film was essentially a video game set to film.

There were some good concepts and ideas in Pandorum, and certainly worth the $1.06 that I spent out of Red Box for it. But ultimately? The movie was forgettable and uninteresting, save for a couple minutes here and there. What is set up is a cool universe, not unlike what happens in Pitch Black, with its own rules, appearance and feel, and the hints of a story that could have been brilliant.

Dollhouse

Last Friday, the final episode of Dollhouse ended, leaving viewers with the end of a story, but like with Firefly, the feeling that there was more to tell. While it certainly wasn't as much fun as Joss Whedon's other short-lived wonder Firefly, it outstripped it with potential and stories that really felt like they were going places. Dollhouse is a show that will be missed immensely, and while I was thrilled to see it get a second season, and even happier that the production team was able to get the story wrapped up fairly neatly, there is the inevitable pang of the loss of a good science fiction television show.

From the start, Dollhouse has had a rough time, and it is a bit of a wonder that the show made it as far as it did. Delays, reshoots, the show almost never made it out the gate, and slowly limped along from first to second seasons, before the plug was finally pulled. After watching the first episode, I was reminded of one of my favorite science fiction novels, Altered Carbon. In Richard K. Morgan's first novel, an implant (a stack) is used to download a person's consciousness and place them into another body as needed, opening a whole world of possibilities for characters and stories. In this instance, it was a noir-ish murder mystery set in the future, with a rich patron hiring the protagonist, Takeshi Kovacs, to find out why he killed himself.

Dollhouse falls much within the same sort of hard science fiction cyberpunk that Altered Carbon occupies. Some of the plot parts are the same, but at the same time, Dollhouse seems to be very typical of a Whedon show: where possible, there's a constant reminder of a message that is being put forth by the story. In a way, it is one of the best cautionary tales that I have seen in a very long time, becoming a model of what science fiction should be: a modern day story, wrapped up in an environment that is just out of context enough for an audience to extrapolate some sort of message from the show. It worked well in True Blood, with the issue of same-sex marriage and relationships, and with Battlestar Galactica, for several issues, such as the Iraq War, torture and wartime conduct.

Dollhouse certainly had its ups and downs. The first half of the first season followed an active mission of the day, which worked marginally well. It helped introduce the concept of the Dollhouse, but did little to really delve into the main storyline until the very end of the season, and things really didn't kick in until viewers hit the unaired episode, Epitaph One, on the DVD set, when the real stakes of the show are laid out: the technology of the Dollhouse will spell the end of the world, if unchecked. Unlike the world that Altered Carbon and its sequels, where there seems to have been a progression and maturing relationship between technology and society, Dollhouse's work demonstrates the raw, unchecked and irresponsible power that technology can have in the place for those who aren't ready to wield it. As has often been quoted from Spiderman: With great power comes great responsibility.

In a way, Dollhouse is the perfect story for the last eighteen months. For anybody who has followed the news in the United States, the entire world has fallen onto hard times because of the sheer power that has been wielded by lending firms, largely motivated out of greed and profit. While this crisis hasn't turned a large part of humanity into mindless zombies, it is an example that so clearly resonates from the TV show, on an even deeper level: corporate greed, a theme that permeates so many other science fiction novels, television shows and movies. Paolo Bachgalupi's The Windup Girl, Duncan Jones' Moon, and even elements of J.J. Abram's show Fringe share this story element, amongst many others in the genre, helping to demonstrate that science fiction is an incredibly relevant and important segment of the arts.

While I don't know that Dollhouse rises to the absolute top with the acting and some of the stories, the overall storyline and conception of the show bring it to incredible heights. Not only is it a cautionary tale towards the problems with technology in the wrong hands, it examines other important themes and storylines: the role of consent and individuality, but even the deeper themes of the soul: what is personality, and can it be replicated, duplicated and swapped out like a machine part in a person? Together, these major themes hold up the show and propel it much further than most science fiction shows ever make it. Unfortunately, while the baseline ideas of the show are amongst the best that the genre has to offer, the show faltered in its execution: the slow start to the show, the wooden acting from some of the actors, and the unfinished potential that was shown as the producers rushed to tie off the show. There are hundreds of stories left untold, after watching the finale, Epitaph Two, and I would like to see more from this world, even in other mediums.

While lofty space epics can be fun to watch, with long lasting storylines that bring on years of stories, I don't know that I've actually seen a television show that takes on such personal issues. Dollhouse was the best sort of science fiction series in the way that it acts as a mirror: we see ourselves and how the world functions in very terrifying ways, showing us what is plausible, possible and even probable.

John Mayer - Battle Studies

John Mayer is an artist whom I have quite a bit of respect and a bit of disdain for over the past couple of years. With the recently released Battle Studies, I've been listening over and thinking back on some of his older works while listening to review this album. The end conclusion that I've come up with is Battle Studies is an highly mixed album: one with a strong musical component, but one that is at the same time severely lacking when it comes to substance and variety.

My main complaint with the album, as a whole, is that while Mayer has had an impressive talent curve when it comes to instrumentation, this album dwells far too much on just a couple of themes - loneliness, abandonment; far too much on a 'Woe is me' theme that makes me want to throw the something at the guy. While a themed album that deals with these sorts of things is generally a good thing, I found the tone and feel of this album to be far too depressing. It felt self-pitying and at times, a bit pathetic, which might have been part of the point, but those were never traits that I've found admirable.

To be fair, several of Mayer's songs on this album rank amongst some of his best ones:Heartbreak Warfare, Half of My Heart and a cover of Robert Johnson's Crossroads, while there are couple additional mediocre songs, such as Who Says and Assassin. As the title suggests, a number of songs liken the quest for love as something akin to warfare. As someone who's studied the history of war and gone through heartbreak, it's a pretty unbalanced perspective. I can see this comparison sitting well with the twenty-something crowd, bobbing their heads while listening in their apartment, a nicely sanitized anthem for our generation.

But that is part of the problem: Mayer's sound, while greatly improved over the past couple of years, is too soft and easygoing to meet up with anything close to his album title or some of the thematic material therein. Where Mayer is likening heartbreak to Clouds of sulfur in the air/ Bombs are falling everywhere/ It's heartbreak warfare, there's a disconnect between the sound and what he's talking about. Regardless of whether heartbreak is as devestating as warfare (a debatable topic, depending on one's relationship status), a soft mellow song just doesn't connect the lyrics to the emotions in the song. Here, it just feels like a dud. In 'War Of My Life', Mayer doesn't sound like he's fighting for his life or conveying that sort of song; it feels more like he's strumming along like the rest of the twenty-somethings who think that they know the devestation of war by what they see on the television screen. In the end, it just feels like this album is called in, not like an air strike, but by the $10 pledge for any number of causes that pledge to end the violence, where it really doesn't mean that you're helping the issue beyond missing a little extra cash at the end of the month.

It's Gonna Be The Future Soon

One of the main elements of the science fiction genre is the future. Looking to the future extends far beyond just the world of Science Fiction, but to speculative fiction, religion, the business and military worlds, and indeed, is a question that everyone inevitably asks, can we predict what will happen next? George Friedman's latest book, The Next 100 Years: A Forecast for the 21st Century purports to just that. While Friedman makes a number of interesting, and at times, good points, the resulting work is deeply flawed in its reasoning. I've since reviewed this book for io9 - much of the summary for the book can be found here.

There are three major points that I took issue with when it came to this book, which are instrumental to the book's findings: lack of sources, an overemphasis and reliance on history and the assumption that the world will return to similar political connections that characterized the Cold War. However, while this is the case, Friedman imparts a very important lesson through this book, reminding the reader that history and nations work with a sort of cause and effect mentality, where x event causes y reaction over z time. Major events take years to build and grow, and an essential thing for the reader to keep in mind is that the world and political structure can change over the course of twenty to thirty years.

This book has no index, notes or sources anywhere in the book, which is odd, considering the number of places that there should be some sort of citation, such as a UN report citing declines in birthrates, or historical information on the political stance of a country. The result of this is a lengthy opinion piece that gets stranger and stranger as the decades pile up. Unfortunately for the book, this does nothing to help with the book's credibility, despite the author's credentials, and essentially turns it into an extended op-ed. With no scholarly information to back up the author's assertions, the book rests on the idea that the author knows just what he is talking about, and given some of the things that he comes up with, I am more inclined to file this under fiction, rather than non-fiction.

Much of the book's reasoning seem fairly flawed to me. Friedman, right off the bat, suggests that what he terms the US-Jihadist war (This should probably be Western-Jihadist war, in all actuality) is merely a small problem that will go away within a couple of years. I'm not well versed in the intelligence community or up on the current information, but I would imagine that that's as far from the truth as you can get. The conflict that's ongoing in the Middle East is one that has been brewing for years, even decades. Israel, Palestine, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan and others close by have long-seated issues with the United States and the Western world, fueled by extremists who believe that our way of life is detrimental to theirs, and have literally been killing themselves to try and stop us. This is not a problem that will vanish without many of those underlying problems being corrected, which I don't see happening. Furthermore, Friedman fails to take into account how things will change with time - the importance of petroleum, for example, which is not a sure thing. What will the effects of climate change legislation have on nations, and how will changes in these resources affect countries. Furthermore, South America, Oceania and Africa are barely mentioned throughout the book.

Friedman hangs his hat on this one assumption - that the global war on fundamentalist terrorists will go away, and that the world will resume tensions that were in existence during the Cold War. He predicts that Russia will consolidate its power and a Russian bloc in Europe. While there are indications that this is happening, I don't believe that it will be anything like what happened before, and that the US will essentially enter another Cold War. Furthermore, down the road, he predicts that the eventual demise of Russia will lead to the rise of Japan, Turkey and Poland, which I find somewhat more unlikely, at least with Poland and Japan.

Much of his reasoning in these instances depends upon historical record and what has gone on before with these countries. He notes that Japan, despite its recent pacifism, will return to warlike routes and eventually challenge the United States. Turkey will do the same. I find Turkey's case slightly more reasonable, because of its diplomatic ties, stability and economy. In addition to these two countries, he also cites German and Russian tendencies to war. This to me is a particularly dangerous assumption, because countries and cultures are redeemable, as seen with Japan. Countries will not go to war or suddenly become aggressive simply because they have done so in the past. Japan has become incredibly tame, with a culture and multiple generations of people to support that. Germany similarly. Warfare, as Clausewitz notes, is an extension of political policy, and with a culture that is largely against war and conflict supporting a political structure, a highly militant Japan rising again seems unlikely. Friedman's assertions that by the middle of the century, with lunar bases and 'Battle Stars' operated by the United States, are on the face ridiculous. (The cost alone of creating the International Space Station, which houses 6 scientists is in the trillions - the prices for stations that house people in the hundreds is magnitudes higher. Even then, with a mindset of defense against other nations, this still doesn't fly.) But, even then, the idea that the Japanese will bomb these US facilities in a Pearl Harbor-esque attack on Thanksgiving evening is just nothing sort of laughable. History certainly has its place, but it cannot be used reliably to predict the future with an instance such as this. Analyze trends and motivations, yes, but using a country's prior methods of warfare, in this manner, is pure fiction.

This is unfortunate, because the book is presented as fact and not necessarily as an exercise in history or how to think about how these events might work in the future. The result is a ridiculous and absurd argument for a return to older political thinking from people who were immersed in that world for so long.

Review: The Windup Girl

Paolo Bacigalupi‘s debut novel The Windup Girl is a frightening, realistic and brilliant look at the near future of the world. Taking place in Thailand at some point in the future, Bacigalupi paints a picture of a world that is caught between several major problems: climate change has affected the lives of many people around the world. At the same time, a rise in global agricultural corporations has devastated the global ecosystem while global energy resources have been depleted, forcing major changes in the way people live their lives. In a post-oil world, people have adapted, and trade is once again bringing things to people around the world. Corporations have run amok with trying to maintain their profit margins, and released a number of plagues upon the world that devastated the planet’s ecology upon which we all depend. Because of their actions, civilization remains just a single step ahead of the latest mutation of blister rust and other diseases. Amongst all of this, Thailand has thus far weathered the storm – the royal government has maintained a fierce isolationist policy to keep the country from succumbing. As a result, the country has a precious resource that western companies desperately want: a genebank, containing thousands of new strains of crops that could be utilized to combat the ongoing struggle against plagues and hunger world-wide.

The story follows several interlocking storylines and characters, each with their own motivations and demons. Anderson is a ‘calorie man’, a westerner who ostensibly manages a factory that manufactures kink-springs, a renewable power source. Jaidee is a member of the Environmental Ministry, tasked with maintaining a barrier between Thailand and the rest of the world and the dangers that it poses. Emiko is a windup, a genetically engineered woman, designed by the Japanese for servitude and for sex, who was abandoned in Thailand and fears that she will be found by the Environmental Ministry's White Shirts and disposed of. In addition to these main characters, there are a number of other background characters who are just as complex as their counterparts. Anderson has come to Thailand on the behalf of a major agricorporation that is hoping to gain a foothold in the country in order to obtain rights to the country’s gene banks. While he is ostensibly looking for ways to combat the plagues, Thailand officials believe that the corporations have far more sinister and selfish motivations for the gene banks. While in the country, he has to walk a narrow line to stay in the country, as the Environmental Ministry intends to keep Thailand free.

Captain Jaidee is a leading member of the Environmental Ministry, and throughout the book, it is clear that the country is not necessarily unified in its position to remain away from the rest of the world. Limited trade and imports occur through the actions of the Trade Ministry, which is at frightening odds with the Environmental Ministry, to the point where open bloodshed and crimes are committed on both sides to try and force their position upon the rest of the country, which eventually interrupts into violence, which helps to push forward some of the plans that Anderson and others have laid to gain more traction into the country.

Emiko’s titular character is somewhere between the various storylines. As an artificial biological construct, she is a representation of what is wrong with the outside world in the eyes of a secular nation that believes heavily in the value of one’s soul and rebirth. To the Thai people, she is a soulless being, one who is against nature, and essentially lumped in with the problems of the world. Thus, Emiko, who is unsuited for Thailand’s climate with reduced pores (she overheats easily) and a body structure that makes her stutter while moving, which makes her a literal odd woman out, and thus a target to the Environmental Ministry who see her as a threat to the country’s independence.

Futuristic worlds are a common element in Science Fiction, but it is very rare to have one that is so deeply realized as Bacugalupi’s Thailand, one that takes the current state of existence for the country and extrapolates into the future with hypothetical events. The portrait that he paints of the world is very scary indeed, and the constructed world has reacted accordingly though a number of levels. What makes this novel so interesting is just how everything fits together. There are economic elements that make sense, social, biological and political, all of which are not mere exposition in a prologue in the novel, but where they are an active part of the storyline. This, in a way is one of the best examples of show, don’t tell, a writing exercise that I remember from creative writing courses. What is even better (or sobering, depending on how you look at it), this world makes sense. I can see major corporations putting profit ahead of common sense, and I can see the world going to hell in much more vivid detail now. Furthermore, Bacugalupi posits the power struggle between various departments of government, each with their own agendas and motives, both at odds with one another, which trails up through to the very end of the book.

There’s a strong look at morality and ethics when it comes to bioengineering and the eventual fate of the species, and how our role fits within a society such as what we see in the future. Emiko, a Windup, is shunned, hated, in reaction to what she was, and what she represented: something highly unnatural. By the same token, there are holes in that sort of feeling, as one character confronts towards the end of the novel. One thing that particularly stuck in my mind was how much of evolution is an unnatural, random occurrence, verses how much of it is conscious decisions that any sort of creature makes that better enhances their chances of survival? In this world, survival is predicated on the work of gene rippers and scientists who remain just a couple of steps against plagues – it is noted that the windups are built for a purpose, and that they are immune to most problems in the world because of their unique design. Like the clashes in the Thailand government, there is a larger struggle at stake, survival, with both sides making valid arguments for their continued existence. In a sense, this story is a look at how the human race might choose to survive, and enter a new stage of development. To me, this is a very profound element to the story.

When all is said and done, there is one big theme that goes through and through with this book: survival. Each element of the book deals with this very issue, from the ultimate survival of the human race in a hostile world, to the immediate survival of several characters who are neck deep in political and economic conspiracy to the various branches of government who want to see their vision of the future for their country to survive the coming turmoil.

What truly stands out for this book is the rich detail and fantastic prose. I’ve purposely taken my time with this book so that I could absorb as much as I could. What Bacugalupi puts together is a superior story, one of the best science fiction novels that I have read in a long time, one that takes the best from well thought out characters, plausible economics and science and a complicated story.

Stargate Universe

On Friday, the SyFy channel unveiled its latest addition from the Stargate franchise, Stargate: Universe to high ratings, showing that the third series has a good potential at life for the newly relaunched channel. This new version is an enormous leap forward for the series, evolving characters, storylines and the entire universe in which the show is set to bring about what looks to be a very promising addition to both the franchise and the genre.

Stargate: Universe opens quietly, with several location shots of space and the Destiny, the ship on which the show will be taking place, with an eventual cut to the familiar image of an active Stargate. A single soldier flies through the opening (Lt. Matthew Scott), falling and quickly checking his surroundings. What happens next is a mad rush of people and equipment. There is no explanation, no introduction of characters or their situation. It proves to be one of the most compelling moments in the franchise to date, and is so out of character for the Stargate Universe that this could very well be a different show, unrelated to the Stargate franchise, one that utilizes only one of the elements of the original show to any large degree, the titular Stargate.

The rest of the episode is shown through alternating scenes, the frantic scenes onboard the Ancient ship and the moments leading up to their predicament. Notable characters, such as Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter all make short cameos, which helps transition this universe from the familiar world of SG-1. I was happy to see that the characters got their moments, (they did the same for Atlantis), but I was equally happy that these appearances were just placeholders, showing that the franchise and storylines moved on after SG-1, and that there were other things to explore. The episode storyline is also very different from what longtime viewers of SG-1 or Atlantis might expect, both in story and execution. With the unconventional start to the episode, we go back to see Eli Wallace, a typical geek-type, solves a puzzle on an MMORPG and is visited by O'Neill and Dr. Rush, who tell him that the puzzle was to help solve a problem that the SGC was having off world. Eli is brought to a spaceship (where we see Daniel Jackson at his best, explaining things in long form) and brought to Icarus Base, where Rush is working out an equation to uncover the meaning behind the 9th chevron of the Stargate. Because of the planet's unique properties, this is the ideal place to study, for power reasons. Shortly after the delegation's arrival, the planet is attacked and the team, with Eli's help, is able to dial the new address with the 9th Chevron, bringing the storyline to The Destiny, an Ancient ship designed to explore, but that is also falling apart.

Thus, the series begins, not with the very typical elements that defined the earlier shows, but with even more basic ones - air supply (the first three episodes are called Air, Parts 1, 2 and 3, with 3 airing next Friday) food and water, with the very survival of the people, all unprepared for this unexpected journey. This is a huge change from the two prior series - the characters were laid out, the story generally involved a new planet or technology, and everyone was home by supper. This changed over the evolution of the shows, but by and large, this formula didn't change all that much. This, on the other hand, takes the formula and throws it through the Stargate. While this isn't BattlestarGate like a lot of people had thought, it's clear that SyFy has realized that the method of storytelling that Battlestar Galactica utilized would work well for this show, and from all appearances, it's been utilized very well.

What I liked most of all was that this isn't a rehash of SG-1 like Stargate Atlantis was. SG-1 was a very fun show, one that really grew with time, but a show that really held to many of the same conventions throughout. Thus, it was consistent, but as viewers tastes in shows matures, the show did not. Atlantis was essentially a rehash of SG-1, just with different characters in a different galaxy, but with many of the same stories and even situations carrying over. This show, on the other hand, seems to seek out a very different path with the overall intent of the storyline, going over some new territory and retreading some very basic older ground.

What the show does to the franchise is that it removes many of the assumptions that the earlier shows held. Travelling to another planet, after a while, became very routine and as such, much of that energy and enthusiasm vanished in the first couple seasons, and were aptly replaced by the major storylines that developed. This is in no way a bad thing, but it was a noticeable thing. With Universe, that sense is back, but with it is much of the danger and feeling of the unknown. Where SG-1 sprinted through stories, Universe is taking the slower and more deliberate route, which should be more realistic, but more interesting to the modern viewer.

Like in SG-1, the core of the story is exploration; really capturing what I believe is the central essence of Science Fiction, exploration. This is demonstrated after the refugees from the base find themselves on the ship, and it is explained that they can fulfill something important while onboard, exploring the universe around them, essentially making the best of what is a really terrible situation. This is where the show delves into new territory, with a race for survival for basics - security and air. This was explored a bit in Atlantis, but not nearly with as much urgency as here. SGC members tread around the ship, almost getting killed when they open the wrong doors, and they race to repair the atmospheric conditions on board by plugging a couple of leaks that they find and fixing the air scrubbers. This is something that never seemed to happen in the original shows, and to some extent, it feels a little more like the original film upon which the shows are based. This is something that will most likely continue with the rest of the series, as the characters begin to inventory what they have - tape, paper, but not much when it comes to necessities. Hugo Award winning author John Scalzi has been brought in as a consultant, and noted that the crew has a finite number of resources, such as bullets and food, and that this figures into the style of the show.

What is also very promising for the rest of the series is the characters. While initially reading over the early plots and character descriptions, I wasn't very hopeful for how the show looked. Fortunately, SyFy has assembled a very promising cast of characters, each with their own moments in the limelight as the story progressed in the first episode. There is enough background hinted at for each character for a whole multitude of upcoming stories, somewhat along the lines of what was done in LOST, which is good. We have a number of characters that really aren't the cut and dry, good and bad sort of characters. Rather, we're treated to numerous shades of gray, and I'm not sure where these characters will end up by the end of Season 1. Of the entire cast, however, Dr. Nicholas Rush, played by Robert Carlyle is the most intriguing, with a hinted tragic past and unclear motivations, and will clearly be a person to watch during future episodes. A number of the other characters are also quite interesting, and I am eager to see what they do with a couple of them.

Universe, when it was first announced, was not a show that I was looking forward to. Early news reports did not look good, and even with the first trailers, I wasn't won over by the premise. It was not until I began to hear that this show would be different, not only in how it was shot, but how it was structured, that I began to take more of an interest, and watching the results, I was amazed at how the franchise had grown up to what I saw before me. This is a good move for SyFy and the Stargate franchise, because it shows that the story can move onto different story models and styles, rather than essentially rehashing much of the same, as Atlantis did with SG-1. Atlantis failed after only five seasons, compared to SG-1's massive run of ten seasons. Indeed, the eventual failure of SG-1 is most likely the same as Atlantis's - the show simply did not change enough from the original model, even with a fairly new cast and set of storylines that would have carried it into future seasons. Universe seems to be that change that the franchise has so desperately needed, one that retains the familiar aspects of the shows that we know and love, but with newer elements that have been shown to work very well in a number of newer shows.

Air, Parts 1 and 2, are a fantastic start to the new show, and if they are any indication of how this season will fare, it will be very interesting indeed. Already, it is amongst the best two hours in the entire franchise, and I have a feeling that the rest of the show will put Universe as one of the better shows in the franchise, if not the best of the three. I am now eagerly awaiting the rest of the season.

The Decemberists and the Hazards of Love (9-20, Burlington, VT)

I never got around to formally reviewing The Decemberist's latest album, The Hazards of Love, when it was released this past spring, but when I saw that they were coming up Vermont, I elected to hold off until I'd watched them in person and kill two birds with one stone.

The Decemberists is a group that I admittedly have a hard time with. They were largely introduced to me through a now-ex girlfriend, bringing back some memories that I've not really thought about for a long time. Initially, I really disliked these guys to begin with. I hadn't gotten to the point where I would sit down and process songs - I just didn't like the sound. That changed when I listened their first major record, The Crane Wife, which I really enjoyed. Listening to them a bit more, I really got into their lyrics and began to enjoy some of their earlier songs as well, although I still think that the Crane Wife is one of their best albums to date.

The Hazards of Love, then, was an interesting experience. Initially, I wasn't as fond of it. It was a little too out there, I remember thinking, after my first listen through it. A friend of mine told me that he liked it more, because of the prog-rock roots and connected nature of the entire album. This prompted me to go back and listen to it a couple more times with this in mind, plus a little research through the internet to some of the themes and references throughout, and I enjoyed it a lot more.

The Hazards of Love was initially conceived as a rock-musical, of sorts. Several additional singers (Becky Stark of Lavender Diamond, Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond and Jim James of My Morning Jacket) were brought in to sing the various 'parts' that make their appearances throughout the story. The first song really sets the story in motion, when Margaret, voiced by Stark, comes across a shape-shifting fawn, and they fall in love. She then becomes pregnant and goes off to find William (the fawn). We later learn that his mother, the Forest Queen had cast a spell upon him (this is influenced by a number of mythologies - she had saved his life in a river when he was a baby) and he can only remain human during the night. The Queen caught William, and he bargains her for a single night of freedom to be with Margaret. The Queen agrees, at a cost - one night, and after that, his freedom is hers. We're then introduced to the character of the Rake, who's killed his children and when he comes across Margaret, he kidnaps her and takes her to the Annan Waters (the same river where William was rescued). The Queen comes across the Rake, and knowing that Margaret is the only thing that can take William from her, she offers to take Margaret and the Rake across to cause everyone some misery. The Rake continues to escape, but is haunted by the ghosts of his children, and in the struggle, William catches up, and kills the Rake. However, to cross the river the first time, William offered up his body to the waters once again, and when they attempt to cross, and together, they drown in the river.

Like the rest of the Decemberists songs, this is a very complicated album. The themes alone are characteristic of the group, as are their lyrics, and after working out just what this album is about, I absolutely love it. When I finally realized the good parts of the Decemberists, their lyrics, complicated stories and sound, I really got into it, and this is much the same case here. The Hazards of Love is a stunning, complicated and beautiful album. I highly recommend giving it a good solid listen - be warned, this is the sort of album that requires you to really pay attention to the lyrics.

Last night, The Decemberists appeared at the Flynn Theater in Burlington, Vermont, opened by Laura Veirs and the Hall of Flames. The Flames were decent, but a newer band that really sounded like they were learning their sound. At times, they sounded fairly good - when all were singing together. Veirs on her own felt very unsupported, and out of place. Hopefully we'll hear a bit more from them, improved, in the future.

The Decemberists as a group are a fantastic live act, and the Flynn was a fantastic place to see them live. Unfortunately, my phone died, and I was unable to take down the set list. According to Colin Meloy, they intended to play The Hazards of Love in its entirety, but because Becky Stark's flight was cancelled, they improvised, playing a mixed set of old and new songs. There were a number of notable songs that they played, from 16 Military Wives, Apology Song, The Crane Wife 3, as well as a couple of older, more obscure ones that I didn't know the names off the top of my head.

One of the things that really impressed me was at how much of the show was a group act, not Colin Meloy supported by the remaining band members. Throughout the show, given the nature of the album and their songs, it seemed like the sound was put together by everyone, each with an integral part that made the result what it was. While Meloy was certainly one of the more visible parts of the group, it's a group effort, through and through.

I was also impressed with the sheer energy and drama that they brought forth from the stage. The group was already fairly theatrical, from what I'd heard, but once again, given the nature of Hazards, there was certainly a bit of acting between some of the singers during those songs. Shara Worden provided a stunning stage presence with her other-worldly like appearance of the Forest Queen, as well as her cover of Crazy On Me, originally by Heart. I really wish that I had been able to see the full performance of Hazards, because I suspect that would really be something to see. Hopefully the group will feel the need to make it up to Burlington, and return again in the near future.

Review: Old Man's War

Now that I'm done with my Master's, I've been finding myself with lots of free time. Fortunately, I've amassed a small pile (okay, quite large) of books that I'm starting to tackle. Right close to the top was Old Man's War, by John Scalzi, which was recommended to me by a number of io9 readers after releasing a list of top military SF books and films. I hadn't included this book because I was unfamiliar with it, but after reading it, it certainly deserves a place on the list.

Old Man's War was Scalzi's first science fiction novel, and for it, he won the John Campbell Award for best new writer. The story follows John Perry, a seventy-five year old man on Earth who has joined the Colonial Defense Force (CDF). People of his advanced age are specifically recruited because of their lifetime of experiences. He receives a new body, bonds with new fellow recruits and goes into training to become an advanced soldier. Humanity has spread to the stars, and its numerous colonies are largely under constant threat from other alien races throughout the galaxy. Perry goes into action with his unit against numerous races in a number of various battles, before a fateful final battle that leaves him the only survivor.

This is a fun read. Scalzi does a good job conceptualizing a futuristic warrior, the training and captures the battlefield and training bond between soldiers. A constant theme that is explored throughout the book is the idea of fighting for humanity, as a race, despite being a radical variation of said race, while not fighting specifically for a unified government or planet. The soldiers go from fighting for a grand concept such as the survival and foothold of the human race to something much smaller and more concrete, fighting for the survival of their unit.

Fans of military science fiction will really enjoy this book for the tech and action. Scalzi sets some fantastic battles throughout the story, and does a good job linking some of them together along with John Perry's reaction to warfare and his role that he's playing. A particular draw of military science fiction is the advanced super soldier, and Scalzi's green, cat-eyed, rapidly healing and computer interfaced soldiers are nothing new to the genre, but they are fun to read about, and provides just enough new twists to the concept to make it modern and interesting.

On the whole of it, the book is a very standard military science fiction novel. It is a fun read, but it has a number of flaws throughout that substantially weakened the novel. The first of these is the title of the novel, and the gimmick that is relied on - the use of old men and women as soldiers, because supposedly their lifetime of experiences will help with their combat experience. This is only touched upon in the book - it's noted that soldiers have a lifetime of experiences to undo, and throughout the novel, Perry only references his old life back on Earth a handful of times. There's very little practical help that a long life really provides for a soldier, save for one, and that's the link to humanity and earth, but even then, that is not utilized in a way that it really could have been, and all in all, older soldiers are really no different than younger ones, given the tech and upgrades that they receive. Furthermore, the end of the book sees the introduction of the Ghost Brigades, experimental soldiers who have grown up fighting, who seem to be generally more effective than the regular soldiers. This entire aspect of the book left me wanting for more.

The last quarter of the book felt incredibly rushed to me. An alien race has utilized a new technology that proves to be devastating to the human ships during one of the final conflicts in the novel, and Perry is assigned to help the Ghost Brigades capture the devices on the planet. This to me seemed to have very little relation to the experiences that Perry had accumulated throughout the book, breaking an overall good story and character arc, and it misses the vital arguments above that would have helped link Perry's motives in the military with the rest of the human race. Instead, it was a final bang and exposition to which the book ends and it left me both disappointed that there wasn't some revelations to be found from the characters, and that it seemed to just exist for the sole purpose of the next book, titled The Ghost Brigades.

Scalzi falls into a trap that a lot of military science fiction writers seem to fall into: take soldiers, enhance them, and then turn them loose against alien foes. Essentially, most military science fiction novels utilize military doctrine and tactics that seem to be right out of the Second World War 2 or Vietnam, with little exploration to how the military actually works, and how military tactics change to reflect new technology. Infantry warfare is one of the earliest types of warfare, and I honestly find it difficult to believe that it will exist in the future as it is portrayed. There is no mention of other styles of fighting, such as maneuver warfare that pairs up infantry with armored forces, or the capabilities of air power against infantry forces. A quick survey of warfare in the past couple of decades will show that both are as equally important as infantry forces. Indeed, this is the future, with far advanced technology - what advances might there be in the next hundred years, and how will that inevitably impact warfare as we know it? People with guns in hand fighting as they do in this book is a fairly unrealistic method that places characters in an extreme situation to extract some sort of revelation - that never really comes - from the protagonist.

Furthermore, while Scalzi has put forth a fairly well worn and conceptualized universe, the entire system of the CDF and colonies isn't fully explained or realized in the book. There doesn't seem to be any unified system of government between the colonies, and the CDF is deployed at a moment's notice to wherever there are problems with one of the colonies. For a massive government waging constant war against aggressors, it seems illogical that there doesn't appear to be any sort of overall plan or guiding strategy that both utilizes diplomacy to secure its borders and military force as a way of enforcing those borders, if you're a student of Clausewitz. Military forces are not deployed willy-nilly in the real world, without extensive benefits to that government. Here, the colonies seem to be fighting holding actions, with some allies, to hold onto their planets. The absence and outright rejection of diplomacy in this world seems even more illogical.

That all being said, this is an interesting, fun and light read for anybody who is inclined to read military science fiction. While the book doesn't really add anything significant to the subgenre, that's not necessarily the requirement for a good read in the genre. I am interested to see where Scalzi will take this world and characters, and as such, I've already picked up The Ghost Brigades. Hopefully some of the issues will be corrected at some point in the upcoming novels in his series, and if not, it's not detrimental to the world that has been set up.

Of Mice and Mobile Armored Assault Platforms

A number of websites have begun to herald a change in the science fiction genre recently, with the recent releases of Moon and District 9 earlier this summer. I was a huge fan of Moon - I thought that it was an absolutely fantastic film, one that captured the essence of the entire genre in wonderful fashion. However, District 9 is a worthy companion for Moon this summer.

Where Moon was quiet, sterile and patient, District 9 is much of the opposite. Taking place sometime around the present, the world has lived with the presence of an alien race on the planet for nearly two decades, when a massive alien ship appears over South Africa. Inside is millions of insectoid aliens, sick, dying and weakened, who are transported down to the surface, where they are first put into temporary shelters until a suitable place can be found for them. This never happens, so a slum of sorts is formed, District 9.

When the story picks up, tensions have risen in the last twenty years, so the aliens (referred to as Prawns) are being relocated to a new home - District 10. A private security company, Multi-National United, seems to have been placed in charge of their protection and keeping, and is working on evicting the aliens to their new home. An MNU employee, Wikus van der Merwe, portrayed by actor Sharlto Copley, is promoted to command the field units in charge of relocating the aliens. During the course of the day, Wikus is sprayed with a fluid by mistake, which begins a process of mutations that blends human and prawn DNA. Thus begins a nightmare for Wikus, who is in turn hunted by Nigerian gangsters and MNU security forces, who both want to study him in order to utilize the alien's weapons.

The film is shot in a very unconventional manner, partially handheld camera work, security cameras, news footage, which gives the entire film a very raw and rapid feel throughout, which really suits the tone and style of the film, and gives it a unique look and feel. The director, Neill Blomkamp, is a first time-director for a film of this scale, although he was initially attached to the now-defunct Halo film (and I think that he would be the perfect director for the project, when it comes back).

Another element that really succeeds from this film is the portrayal of the aliens. For once, aliens are truly alien, not just humans with a different appearance. The Prawns are insectoids, with a vastly different understanding of society, and the differences in cultural norms is what seems to drive much of the conflict - different values, such as property and personal possession seem to be relatively unknown elements to the aliens, and this leads to incidents. Their awareness of the surrounding events seems to be limited as well, with some exceptions, which makes them very easy to take advantage of, as MNU seems wont to do. The aliens here aren't saviors, superior or anything like that, they're just alien.

In a similarity with Moon, a big storyline with the film is Multinational United, the security firm that has more corporate motives that surpass what is ethical or moral. In Moon, the company would just clone its worker, Sam Bell. In this film, they go a step further, experimenting with Prawns to attempt to utilize their energy weapons and technology. When Wikus is transformed, one executive notes that his one body will be worth billions to the company, and they go about vivisecting him before he escapes. Corporate greed and corruption seems to be an especially powerful theme these days, with companies such as Enron, Blackwater and bailed out banks still making the news.

But what really makes the film is Wikus. He is as unconventional a main character as I've ever seen. When we first see him, he is a small, quiet man being interviewed by an unseen camera man. He stumbles over his words, fiddles with objects and is easily distractible, and seems as surprised as everyone else in the room when it is announced that he will be in charge of the field operations of the mission. He reminds me of one of the characters from Monty Python, a clueless husband who doesn't realize that his beautiful wife is having sex with the marriage counselor in the same room while having a meeting. He is, essentially a mouse in a much larger world. This is evidently seen when he comes across one of the special operations teams, and butts heads with its leader, who shoves him out of the way.

With his accident, there is an emotional, as well as a physical and physiological change within him. As he is infected with the fluid that transforms him (and thus making him a target), Wikus is forced to go on the run and go against everything that he's known. While in a position of authority over the Prawns, he is essentially xenophobic, condescending and racist towards the aliens, but without any real intent - he operates as he always has, as he's always known. His dismissal of the aliens is casual, because that's what's expected of him. During and after his physical transformation, Wikus is thrust into a role that he never asked for, and never wanted. Chased by members of the criminal underworld and his own company, he seeks refuge in the only place that becomes available to him - District 9. He allys himself with the scientist who had the fluid in the first place, who, as it turns out, is attempting to leave the planet, and the fluid was a necessary component of his ship. The story progresses logically from here - faced with this need, the two pair up and liberate the fluid from MNU, and the action picks up.

Wikus's story is not necessarily the singular purpose of the film. Throughout, there is a much darker, and highly relevant theme of racism that really puts the film on the map. In the opening of the film, there is a sequence of events that turns the public tide against the aliens. All too often, the presence of extra-terrestrials visiting humanity have a dramatic effect - they are either invading, or they are here for humanity's rescue. In this instance, they are neither, and because of this, they are not wanted, by anyone. One person in the film says that if they were from a different country, it might be different, but they were from another world. In essence, this is an immigration issue of very different proportions, but an immigration issue none-the-less, and it is fascinating that this film came out of South Africa, which has so recently dealt with apartheid. Around the world, this film can come to represent the plight of immigrants. I can see people in Palestine, South Africa, the American southwest and numerous other places around the world relating to this sort of film, or at least gleaning some message from it.

I'm at a loss to see how this film was made for only $30 million dollars. It carries itself with a much more sophisticated and good looking appearance, from the complicated CGI of the aliens to the action scenes. This has the feel of a much larger movie, and I honestly hope that this film, along with Moon, will be the start of a much bigger trend towards more original science fiction on a smaller budget. What Blomkamp has done is put together a superior movie, blending the best in character development, overall message and unconventional storytelling that really makes District 9 a tribute to the genre. Like Moon, it takes common themes and turns them on their heads, creating a different movie, and because of that, we have a film that will no doubt be looked upon as a fantastic addition to Science Fiction.

Review: The Magicians

Within the fandom genre, I consider myself a fan of Science Fiction over Fantasy. I'm more intrigued in the sheer variety that Science Fiction presents itself with as well as the notion of humanity (or whatever other race portrayed in any given story) pulling itself up on its own two feet with empirical science. Yet, I find myself coming back, time and again, to fantasy works for the absolute sense of escapism and wonder that I often feel with the books that I pick up. I tend to be particularly picky with fantasy books because it is very rare that a fantasy book will evoke some sort of feeling like that from me.

It is because it didn't do this, I think, is what I really liked from Lev Grossman's latest novel, The Magicians. In this fantastic addition to the fantasy genre, Grossman puts together a book that is radically different than just about every other fantasy novel out there, breaking a lot of the very common elements that seem to define the fantasy genre. On a first glance, The Magicians doesn't seem to be very different from any number of well known fantasy books. A boy in his teens is brought to a magical academy, where he learns the various arts of magic, in a school that is hidden from the rest of the world. Without presupposition, anyone would immediately label this as any part of the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. Within the modern day world that Grossman puts together, Quentin, our protagonist, and his friends, are fans of the Fillory series that sees a family of children stumble into a magical world where they often help to fight for good and right in an epic quest. Again, someone would identify this plot as that of C.S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia. While this book certainly has been influenced by these, and more - J.R.R Tolkien's epic The Lord of the Rings is mentioned a couple of times, not to mention the game Dungeons and Dragons, it cleverly turns many of the ideas and themes that defined these pillars of the fantasy genre on their heads.

Grossman's fantasy world is no different than our own. This story takes place largely in our world, with the normal staples referenced for proper placement, but with a side world of magic. Unlike the ridiculously cartoonish version that J.K. Rowling presents (which, even as a fanboying 13 year old, never made sense to me), Grossman's alternative world functions in much the same way - magic is dull, time consuming and work. The people who study at colleges for magic study (such as Brakebills, in New York), graduate and enter the dull working world and fail to see that their lives have become essentially meaningless. There is a fantastic quote in the book that stuck with me:

"This wasn't Fillory, where there was some magical war to be fought. There was no Watcherwoman to be rooted out, no great evil to be vanquished and without that everything seemed so mundane and penny-ante. No one would come out and say it, but the world wide magical community was suffering from a serious imbalance: too many magicians and not enough monsters." (Grossman, 210)

What Grossman has essentially done, was insert real life into fantasy. The mundane aspects are there, but along with that is the cynicism and skeptical nature that one feels for life the more you learn from it. This book comes at a particularly interesting point in my own life where I find the text to be highly relatable. We enter college and expect to change the world, only to find that real life is far more dull than anybody bothered to tell us. The Magicians carries with it a resentful, sullen approach to fantasy, something completely contrary to the grand themes that most fantasy novels portray. Indeed, the main action and villain in the book hardly appear at all; just once early on, and in the last quarter of the book, when the characters stumble upon their quest. Even then, their quest is not a noble one, it is scattered, disorganized and brutal, where they turn out to be pawns in a far larger story that helps to tie the entire book together.

There are other elements to fantasy that Grossman stumbles upon that seems to be largely untried ground, at least with some modern works, the effects of magic and power upon a magician. While books such as Lord of the Rings look to the corrupting influence of power, Grossman expands this a bit and utilizes the theme throughout the story. His characters are unhappy creatures through most of the book, and one character hits it right on the head when they note that magicians are different because they are in pain, and from that pain comes the willpower and drive to succeed and make magic. Another character looks back towards the end of the book and wonders at the sheer power that the students are exposed to so early on, and speculates as to just what type of influence that would have upon them. But, for all the corrupting influences that magic might have upon its users, it is clear by the end of the book, when Quentin has retreated from its teachings, that there is still an irresistible pull and wonder to it that makes it hard to walk away from.

I like this approach to a story, changing the entire focus. In essence, it is Harry Potter, grown up. When I first read Rowling's series, I was in the middle of high school, and couldn't have made any critical points about the book if my life had depended upon it. Now, it is as if those major elements have undergone the same sort of transformation and growth that I've gone through in the past decade or so since I first read the books. Grossman's fantasy is darker, far more adult and much more interesting from a storytelling perspective, I think, than all of Rowling's series put together.

Reading over other reviews of this book, I can see a number of critics and reader who just don't get the purpose of the book. While it does appear to be very similar to the aforementioned Harry Potter and Narnia series (there is no way to escape comparisons here), it is the themes and tone that sets this book far apart from them. The Magicians presents a far more realistic setting in a fantasy world, because that suits the characters, casting away the usual black and white morality with one that is far more gray. There are few clear cut moral resolutions here. Every character is damaged in their own way - Quentin, tired of life from early on, Alice, who has grown up with parents who are unable to see their meaningless purposes in life, Penny, who is so standoffish that he is an outsider, Janet, who is so consumed with herself that she must be the center of all problems and Eliot who is consumed with greed and lust. Throughout, the characters are often confronted not with a clear and present danger, but with the simple problem of finding their way in the world as role models and loved ones let each other down, or as childhood standbys turn out to be far more than they appear, such as what happens with the Fillory series within the book.

The Magicians is a thoughtful, interesting and dark read. Like his predecessors in the genre, Grossman has put together a highly imaginative and creative tale. While I often turn to fantasy because of its escapism, I was absolutely enraptured with its view of the modern world through a slightly different lens, one that I can not only relate to, but agree with almost completely. While I'm usually a Science Fiction fan, this book completely captivated me throughout, and is likely going to be on my list of top fantasy works.

Book Review: Explorers House

While growing up, a staple around my family's house was the National Geographic Magazine. I have many fond memories of paging through the magazines throughout the years, for the fantastic pictures from all around the world as well as their fantastic maps that seemed to come with every issue. Even to this day, I refuse to throw out any copies that I come across. Indeed, I have a large box in the bottom of my closest of back issues, with a handful from the early 1960s, a couple from the mid-1990s and some from the past decade. The National Geographic is a wonderful magazine, one that has both inspired and opened my eyes to the world.

This made the most recent book that I've finished, Explorers House: National Geographic and the World It Made, by Robert Poole, such a fun read over the past month. Chronicling the history of the organization, Poole examines the chain of events that helped to shape the iconic, yellow bordered magazine over the past century or so that it has been around.

In 1888, a group of men gathered in the Cosmos Club in Lafayette Square in Washington DC to organize a group that would foster knowledge, geography and an understanding of the world to members, and in doing so, launched one of the greatest organizations that has ever existed. After a short meeting in which the Society's name and bylaws were created, the group began to meet regularly, where they would host speakers, moving from place to place. The official magazine was commissioned later in that year, a collection of maps, charts and articles, and was irregularly published for the first couple of years.

Things turned around for the struggling group in 1899, when Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the Telephone, along with Edwin Grosvenor, who would take on the Society and work to expand it far beyond its origins in Washington DC. The Bells and the Grosvenors would become dynasties throughout the magazine's history, to the point where Gilbert Grosvenor, part of the fifth generation involved with the Society, is still the head of the board of directors. Poole moves through the history of the magazine largely focusing on the intertwined nature of the Grosevnor family and the National Geographic magazine, charting its rather colored and spectacular history, examining all aspects in concise, and at times, somewhat am apologetic manner, especially during eras where magazine articles reinforce racism or anti-semitism at various points throughout.

What is most remarkable is the changes that the magazine has undergone, and how it was an exemplary medium from the start. The magazine is only the most visible part of the Society, which issues grants for scientific and exploration endeavours, as well as working to educate about the world around us. The Magazine, which went from a small part of the Society, became a much more important part of the Society's growth over the years, introducing pictures, and through it, the rest of the world to the United States through the efforts of its reporters and photographers. Photography is what the magazine is known for, and this is indeed a great focus of the book, which notes how the magazine changed as technology improved. As new editors and overseers of the Society came and went for the magazine, each seemed to leave a lasting impression on the magazine, through the style of writing and reporting, photography and overall outlook for the magazine, which garnered millions of subscribers because of its quality reporting and photographs.

Going back over some of the earlier issues that I have stashed away is absolutely fascinating, especially when compared to the more current issues. The writing style of the ones from the 1960s tend to be in more depth, longer, written in the first person and tends to be far more upbeat in topic, while newer issues take on a far more critical look at the world around us, examining conflicts and problems around the world in shorter, more report-like articles. One thing that has remained constant between them is the stellar photography that helps to reveal the world.

Explorer's House is a fantastic read about a fantastic organization, one that has touched many points in history, from the discovery of the North Pole, the first ascent up Mount Everest, the first man on the Moon and almost everything in between. With magazines and newspapers around the world seeing drops in readership and advertising revenue with the introduction of new media, it will be a hard time for the magazine, but I for one am inspired to resubscribe after lapsing for years.

Album Review: Nothing Rhymes With Woman

My favorite group, Carbon Leaf, is back with their third major label record, Nothing Rhymes With Woman, the followup to their fantastic Love Loss Hope Repeat, released in 2006 on Vanguard Records. Over the past three years, they've been touring in support of that album, while working on new material. They've come up with what is possibly one of my favorite albums from the group, (although Echo Echo, their last independent release will always be my absolute favorite), and Nothing Rhymes With Woman showcases the best of what Carbon Leaf has to offer.

Where Love Loss Hope Repeat was fairly consistent throughout when it came to tone and theme, Nothing Rhymes With Woman is far more varied, and at my first listen, it felt like a step backwards. However, with several more plays through the disc, I've come to believe that the album has a far more nostalgic theme to it. Where Love Loss Hope Repeat was tightly structured around the idea that falling in love and out of it again is akin to the passing of the seasons, it came with a fairly dark and somewhat somber feel to the album as a whole. Nothing Rhymes With Woman feels far more free and lively in comparison, if a bit less connected together when it comes to the overall sound and feel to the album.

In a way, this album feels like it should fall between Indian Summer and Love Loss Hope Repeat. There's a share of the more thoughtful, lyrical songs, such as Mexico, Lake of Silver Bells, Pink and Snowfall Music, more lively, free songs, such as Indecision, Miss Hollywood, Cinnamindy, What Have You Learned, and X-Ray, while there's a couple harder songs such as Another Man's Woman and Meltdown.

This is also the first foray for the group with their two new members, Jason Neal and Jon Markel, who replaced Scott Milstead and Jordan Medas on drums and bass, respectively. The change doesn't seem to have effected the group all that much, although I can somewhat detect some differences there, but nothing overly noticeable. The other three members, Barry Privett, on vocals, Terry Clark and Carter Gravatt, both on guitar, sound excellent as ever - their overall sound feels tighter, more mature and overall is easily at their best - this is something that I've noticed on the numerous concerts that I've attended for these guys, and it's fantastic to hear it translate into this album so readily.

The overall feel to this album is that it is nostalgic, looking back to good times. Indeed, the opening track, Indecision, contains the lines: "I face the trail of the old lonesome pine, I catch a glimpse, flickers of brilliance, straight ahead for what's left behind. Long days, fade away, I hope to see them again." and "I may get lost but I'll know where I've been." Lonesome Pine was a track from Echo Echo, and I can't help but wonder if this album is an attempt to go back to that style - a number of songs, such as Indecision, Lake of Silver Bells and Drops of Rain feel as if they could fit on that album quite easily.

The idea of nostalgia is prevalent throughout the album, and there are two tracks in particular that really highlight this - X-Ray, which looks back to the rosy boyhood days on summer vacation, something that I myself remember fairly fondly, and Pink, which looks at a woman dying of cancer, looking back to the days before her illness. Looking back towards better days isn't necessarily a bad thing - in this album, it shines, as each song looks back towards good times gone by, as well as some bad ones, but there's a parallel feeling that there's more to come, that there'll be more to look upon in the future. I especially got this feeling with What Have You Learned, a quasi-breakup song that looks at the failure of a relationship, but also looking at what good can come from such an event in one's life.

Of all the songs on the album, my absolute favorite is Lake of Silver Bells. It's a gorgeous song that starts off smoothly before everything kicks into high gear about a minute into the song. This is the perfect song to drive along with the windows down, the volume up, and falls well within Carbon Leaf's tendencies to write very descriptive and lyrical songs, and it feels very much like the album that I like the most, Echo Echo, for much of those reasons. Thus far, it's easily the best album that I've listened to all year, and undoubtedly (and I'm a bit biased here) one of my favorites for the year.

Download Lake of Silver Bells. (It's okay, the record company okayed this one.)