rivkat: Dean reading (dean reading)
( Oct. 14th, 2021 10:29 am)
Garth Nix, Newt’s Emeraldregency/gender masquerade )
Amanda Foody & Christine Lynn Herman, All of Us Villainsteenage deathmatch )
Andrea Stewart, The Bone Shard Daughterand The Bone Shard Emperor: island fantasy )

Grady Hendrix, The Final Girl Support Groupif this goes on... )
Naomi Novik, The Last Graduatedestroying the Scholomance? )
Jonathan Strahan, ed., The Year’s Best Science Fiction, vol. 2 (2020): a mix of 2020 )
Charles Stross, three post-Singularity sf novels )

Shelley Parker-Chan, She Who Became the Sun:taking a brother's destiny )
Susan R. Matthews, Jurisdiction books )
rivkat: Rivka as Wonder Woman (Default)
( Aug. 16th, 2006 07:52 pm)
Slate discusses the "trend" in married couples' names. What's funny is that it really reminds me of the fandom debates over Spuffy and the like.

[livejournal.com profile] boniblithe! You sweetie!

She sent me Dodie Smith (author of The Hundred and One Dalmations, a book I loved to pieces, literally!), Patricia Briggs, and The Gift: Imagination and the Erotic Life of Property -- isn't that amazing?

Short story collections: Kristine Kathryn Rusch, Borderlands, Lawrence Block, Murder by Magic, Redshift, Kim Stanley Robinson, Men Seeking Women )
Patricia Briggs, Dragon Blood. As [livejournal.com profile] melymbrosia said, this sequel to Dragon Bones isn’t as good. Dragon Bones told the story of Ward Hurog, the heir to a small but important part of a kingdom. Because Ward had feigned stupidity to avoid his brutal father’s wrath, he had a hard time proving himself fit to rule when his father died. In Dragon Blood, everybody understands that Ward’s a good, competent guy, and so the interesting conflict is gone. The story just sort of plods along. It also bothers me a bit that the homosexual characters are all bad guys (the exception, who really wants to be sleeping with his wife rather than another man, is a victim of molestation and dark magic to bind him to the bad guy, and so I’m thinking he doesn’t count). This isn’t really fair of me, because I don’t think Briggs is homophobic and I don’t think all gay/bi characters have to be good, but it just makes me nervous.

Lois McMaster Bujold’s Vorkosigan books include one in which a man is coerced into sex with other men, by drugs and not magic, but it doesn’t bother me so much because many of the characters are comfortable with polymorphous perversity. The patriarchal Barrayarans aren’t generally, but they’re backwards folks being dragged into the fiftieth (or whatever) century by the recently reestablished contact with other worlds, some of which are very strange, to Barrayarans and to us. I like Bujold’s style. She has a real gift for putting heroic quips in characters’ mouths, and when a bad guy’s head is cut off, his last words are “You can’t --“instead of a complete sentence. There are very few Evil Overlords about; indeed, one of the things I liked most about Diplomatic Immunity, the most recent book in the series and also the most recently written, is that the bad guy is really clever, thinks of lots of fallback plans, and is not easily defeated at all. Go space opera!

Buffy the Vampire Slayer script books are up to Season 2, vol. 3 of 4 now. They’re great to have around, because the writing is fantastic, but it’s sad that the typos and spelling errors haven’t been corrected. Sure, I’d like insight into the process, but that’s a little too much insight. Exception made for the direction “FITE! FITE! FITE!”

The West Wing Script Book, by contrast, has six chosen episodes, rather than a complete set. The scripts have much less direction to the actors than the BtVS scripts, though both are dialogue-intensive. It turns out that I like reading BtVS scripts better, because the actors on WW are relatively more important to my enjoyment of the dialogue than the actors on BtVS.

Steven Brust, The Paths of the Dead is set long before the time of Vlad Taltos (pronounced Taltosh), one of the best characters in modern fantasy. Vlad will be a human thief in an elvish world, though the elves call themselves human, which is a great detail. Anyhow, this book purports to be a history of a time before Vlad, but it turns out that I only like Vlad. Well, I like Sethra Lavode, a sorceress who will know Vlad later in life and who plays a role here, but the style of the book made me sick. It’s a conscious decision by Brust to write in a slow, precious style, where the characters constantly repeat themselves and engage in other verbal tics that often end with “I hardly think I have been asking anything else for the last hour!” when a questionee finally restates a question asked a page ago. That it’s conscious doesn’t make it tolerable. Apparently, Brust intends to write at least one more book in this manner, and I doubt I’ll buy it even in softcover. I want more Vlad! People who want a great fantasy world with a funny, engagingly flawed protagonist should check out Jhereg and the other Vlad books, which are being reissued in double editions, or To Reign in Hell, Brust’s spectacular version of Paradise Lost. But skip this one.

Judith & Garfield Reeves-Stevens, Federation is the book with the hilarious ramming scene, of which I was reminded by the latest Star Trek movie. The ramming scene is as great as I remembered, complete with Geordi calling up from Engineering, asking what just happened, and, upon getting the response, asking “No, really, what just happened?” The rest of the book didn’t move me much. It’s a Zefrem Cochrane story, crossing over between TOS and TNG, and it’s been Jossed (Gened?) to hell and back by one of the TNG movies. I can’t really recommend it unless you’re a real fan of Zefrem. Or, you know, books in which one spaceship rams another.

Which is actually a good transition to C.S. Forester, Mr. Midshipman Hornblower. It’s evident why the Hornblower books are often cited as predecessors of Star Trek & similar spaceship-heavy worlds; the resource constraints, risks and human psychology at sea transfer easily to space. This book, which chronicles Hornblower’s earliest days at sea, is good clean fun, though chock full of British prejudices towards the French and the Spanish. Hornblower is a little too self-deprecating for my tastes, though he gives good angst.

Elizabeth Moon, The Speed of Dark, is a fascinating, unpredictable book about an autistic man in the midterm future, forced by his penny-pinching company to choose whether to take a treatment that may cure his autism but that may (also) destroy him as he exists now. Moon creates a plausible world, with bureaucratic and legal rules that ring sometimes disturbingly true, and the narrator is incredibly interesting. He does have a Temple Grandin-like feel (Moon has an autistic child and apparently did a ton of research) and the story makes his constraints, and his choices, feel real and important.

And now, the first lines/paragraphs meme, in no particular order. These are books I reread, which is as good a criterion as any:

Read more... )
I'm going to be on a panel at the International Communications Association early next year, whose theme is "Borderlands," and of course I decided to talk about concepts of copyright, plagiarism, creativity and ownership in fan cultures, inspired in part by [livejournal.com profile] bonibaru's recent comments. I want to use as examples some good fan vids. I've got some great SV ones I could use, but what I really need are Star Trek or Star Wars (or something else of equal cultural fame) so that most of the audience will recognize them. Ideally, the vids will be either slashy or funny, and set up so that I can show a 30-second clip and then talk. "Kid Fears," for example, is a very nice Star Wars vid that just won't work for this purpose because you need to watch the whole thing to get the story. I really need suggestions -- I can buy videotapes if necessary -- isn't a research budget a beautiful thing? -- but any format is good.

Reviews ahead: Tori Amos, Susan R. Matthews, David Gerrold, Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, and Kembrew McLeod, not in that order.

Kembrew McLeod, Owning Culture: One of the book's major points is that the concept of intellectual creations as property inflicts further harm on marginalized groups whose contributions (spirituals, tribal medicinal knowledge) never count as property and get appropriated by powerful interests that know how to make property out of the raw stuff of culture. Additionally, ownership of intellectual property allows corporations like Disney to censor and control the public discourse about Disney properties. The book has some nice examples, and piss-poor followup -- for example, one case he lists as undecided was settled two years prior to the book's publication date, as I found as my first Google result. The book is too jargony for my taste; McLeod's "articulation theory" is a label, not an explanation, and I don't think it does the work he wants it to do, unless all he wants to say is that intellectual property works in different ways in different contexts. Sometimes theory-talk is a substitute for insight.

McLeod's lack of knowledge of the law is a major problem in a book about law's interaction with culture. He says there's no "fair use" concept in trademark, which is just not true. The federal trademark statute defines fair use, and the Ninth Circuit has established a separate kind of fair use that courts around the nation now use. He doesn't know the difference between a denial of certiorari by the Supreme Court (which expresses no view on the merits; it just means the Supreme Court won't hear the case) and an affirmance (which makes the lower court's ruling the law of the land, instead of just the law in some geographic subunit). He even confuses the Ninth Circuit -- the Court of Appeals for Hollywood, as well as some other, less important places like Alaska and Hawai'i -- with the Supreme Court. I know Judges Kozinski and Reinhardt, not to mention others, would like to think that, but it just ain't so. (Side note: for whatever reason, the federal judiciary now spells the Aloha state "Hawai'i," so I'll follow that convention.)

To a certain extent, McLeod's harmed by the fact that the legal system increasingly shares his concerns about censorship, at least in trademark and copyright. Many of the important decisions postdate his publication date, but some of the key ones don't, and his argument is weakened by failing to acknowledge in law the discontinuities and spaces for opposition he insists we recognize in culture. Oh, and his argument that 2 Live Crew's appropriation of Roy Orbison's "Pretty Woman" was clearly a parody of the original song is mystifying -- check it out for yourself here (scroll down to the appendices for the two sets of lyrics) and shows how his ideological position affects his interpretations of the law. Yeah, like my former boss, I can see how a parodic character may reasonably be perceived, but that's a far cry from, say, Weird Al's "This Song Is Just Six Words Long." Now that's clearly a parody.

Bottom line: If you want an introduction to how rap got commercialized, how collage art exists in relation to art photographers, how pharmaceutical companies perceive native medicinal knowledge, or things like that, he's got good source material. But there's nothing else here, and you'd be wise to follow up with some extra research once he gets you started.

Now for the fiction:

Susan R. Matthews, "The Devil and Deep Space." Another adventure of Andrej Koscuisko, the reluctant torturer who enjoys his work too well for his own comfort. Nothing could really match the impact that "An Exchange of Hostages," which introduced Jurisdiction and its policy of legally sanctioned torture, had on me, but this book is a satisfying continuation. Unfortunately, like "Hour of Judgment," it ends at what seems to be the midpoint. I'm not disappointed in the structure, I'm just sad I can't find out what happens. I like the character of Jennet ap Rhiannon, the creche-bred woman who finds herself in command of the Ragnarok -- in command in name, but her story is about whether she'll be able to command it in fact. I didn't particularly need to know more about Andrej's homeland, but the parts of the story set on his planet were interesting. I didn't like "Avalanche Soldier," so I'm pleased to see Matthews return to this complex, fast-changing universe.

Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, "Agent of Change." Meh. Two uberpeople fall in love and get in trouble, not necessarily in that order, helped at critical moments by the intervention of -- I kid you not -- the Great Turtle. Not the one from Stephen King's "It," but still. It's not incompetently written, but it's not particularly interesting, either. The worst part is that the protagonists -- the guy a former planetary scout and current superspy, the girl a hardened mercenary -- are repeatedly described as looking around 25 and 18 years old, respectively. Without either some mention of plastic surgery (and the guy probably has had some), or some non-Earth counting of years, that's just preposterous. Even the cover artist couldn't buy it, as you can see.

David Gerrold, "Yesterday's Children" (rev. ed.). The author rewrote the ending about 8 years after first publication, and it's still a problem. The story is about a decrepit, poorly crewed ship in the middle of a grueling war. The ship was patrolling a supposedly quiet sector of space until it caught an enemy ship on its sensors. Or did it? A lot of technobabble about a de-Trekified (this was originally supposed to be a Star Trek script) warp drive, with no real payoff. The book says something about war -- long stretches of boredom punctuated by moments of terror -- but it's less fun to read about the boredom than you might think. Near the end, the book veers into a weird theory of "psychometrics" or some such nonsense, which is bizarre, not well set up early on, and makes the main viewpoint character seem paranoid and, at best, lucky. Maybe this is also a truth about war -- the made-up quotes that open each chapter suggest Gerrold thinks so -- but I just didn't get it. Gerrold's "War Against the Chtorr" series is much more enjoyable; in fact, I'd recommend it if you like Earth invasion stories.

Tori Amos, "Scarlet's Walk" (with bonus DVD). This disc continues in the vein of the studio disc of "To Venus and Back," with Amos's unique idiolect. I've always loved the interiority of her songs, the sense of meaning that flits alongside the bizarre lyrics and allows you to pour your own emotional content into a song. The music on "Scarlet's Walk" is more contemplative, not as angry as that on "Little Earthquakes" or "From the Choirgirl Hotel" or even "Boys for Pele." "Sorta Fairytale" is a good first single; although Amos is never predictable (who'd've thunk she'd cover Eminem?), it does reflect the overall tone of the album. There's no Cruel, Iieee, Caught a Lite Sneeze, or Hotel. Since those are my favorite songs, it's clear that this isn't going to be my favorite album. Nonetheless, the songs hold up to several listens thus far, and people who like her shouldn't skip it. I found the DVD unnecessary; I'd got myself convinced that there were real extras on it, but it's just 3 songs, 2 set to the same video footage (cut differently, but still the same) and 1 to a slide show from the same shoot. Not worth your money. I was amused by the little plastic frog that came in the package, and bemused by the stickers.
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