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defrogReading teh books, writin’ teh reports yo.
I Sing The Body Electric by Ray Bradbury
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is another classic Bradbury anthology I haven't read before. It's one of his more famous books, perhaps in part because the title track – about a widower whose family decides to purchase an electric grandmother – was originally written as an episode of The Twilight Zone. Actually, almost all of the stories here would have been at home with that TV series in some form or other, as Bradbury covers his usual territory – a time traveler looking for Ernest Hemingway, a couple whose child is a blue tentacled pyramid, a man who claims to be Charles Dickens, the last man on Mars who gets a phone call from himself, a clairvoyant chicken, a robot Abraham Lincoln, a house that doesn’t want to be inhabited, etc. A few of them are duds (by Bradbury standards, anyway), but even ones that tread old ground (like “The Lost City Of Mars”, where a group of people find said city, which traps them by appearing to be their own personal idea of paradise) are told so well that it’s hard to be too critical – although Bradbury’s tendency to wax lyrical occasionally overwhelms the narrative. And when he nails it, boy does he.
The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K. Le Guin
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
The second book in the Earthsea series, and while the protagonist of the first book (Sparrowhawk, a.k.a. Ged) plays a key part of the story, the focus is on Arha, who is taken while still a child (age 5) to be the high priestess to the "Nameless Ones" at the Tombs of Atuan. The first half of the story follows Arha as she grows up, learns her role and duties, learns about the vast underground labyrinth that is her domain and hers alone, and slowly starts to realize how isolated she is by her power (both in terms of getting along with other girls and dealing with the priestess Kossil who is jealous of her power) and how little she knows about the outside world, particularly wizards and magic. After she comes of age and assumes her full responsibilities, her world is shaken when she discovers a strange man (Ged) in the labyrinth attempting to steal one of its treasures. I confess the first half seemed to drag a bit, and it only gets interesting when Ged turns up, but only because the story really comes alive for me when Arha is forced to question what she’s been taught and what she believes, which wouldn't work if her early life had been glossed over quickly. It helps that Le Guin, as always, is a great writer who keeps things moving, and knows when to take a worn fantasy-genre trope and turn it on its ear – especially the ending. I would still rate Le Guin’s SF books higher, but I’m liking this series, and I’m looking forward to the next installment.
Modesty Blaise: The Lady Killers (Modesty Blaise by Peter O'Donnell
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Another collection of Modesty Blaise strips (Volume 15 of the Titan reprints), this batch containing three story arcs from 1980-81, which also happen to be the first stories drawn by artist Neville Colvin. I admit jumping from Volume 1 (the previous collection I read) to Volume 15 invites some interesting contrasts – two of these stories are bit more whimsical than I’ve come to expect from Modesty Blaise (one involves dolphins, another features mad Commie scientists trying to convince Willie Garvin and British agent Maude Tiller that they’ve been shrunk to Lilliputian size). Still, it’s all good fun. Another interesting contrast: the strips got a lot racier by 1980, with the kind of gratuitous nudity and swearing you couldn’t get away with in an American daily strip. My only real complaint is Colvin’s art, which feels a bit loose at times, as if he was rushing to beat the deadline. Also included in this volume are all of the MB strips that appeared only in the Glasgow Evening Citizen newspaper in the UK and not the London Evening Standard (the strip was supposed to run in both papers simultaneously but it didn't always work out that way). Which is interesting, but the strips themselves are kind of pointless to read since they’re basically out-of-context excerpts from various story arcs across the strip’s 38-year run.
The Fire Eater by Ron Goulart
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
As I’ve been revisiting Ron Goulart, here’s one of his novels I actually haven’t read before – what I believe is the first Barnum System novel, in which John Raker of Soldiers Of Fortune Inc is hired to investigate a series of strange assassinations taking place on Esmerelda, a backward planet where sorcery and magic are real. Someone is killing officials of the ruling League Of Statesmen by remotely setting them on fire. Raker’s mission: find the assassin(s), stop them, and if possible find out how they’re doing it. This one is a little different as Goulart plays around with the fantasy-world gimmick. That said, as with all of his novels, Goulart sticks to his basic narrative template: laconic hero carries out his mission and plays straight man to the eccentric and talkative secondary characters he encounters. And like most Goulart novels I’ve read, it’s fun, light entertainment – which is what I come to Goulart for, so it met my expectations.
What Money Can't Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets by Michael J. Sandel
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
In which Harvard professor Michael Sandel posits that the US (and much of the world, really) has evolved from a market economy to a market society under which, increasingly, many aspects of our lives are for sale: paying to jump a queue, paying children to read books or get good grades, prisoners paying for a cell upgrade, patients paying for a doctor’s cell phone number, buying a terminal patient’s life insurance policy, paying for the right to shoot an endangered black rhino, selling ad space on your forehead – the list goes on. And all of this is happening without any serious discussion about the moral implications of putting a price tag on everything, whether it’s a question of inequality and fairness (i.e. ability to pay) or corruption (i.e. diminished value). Sandel raises more questions than answers here, but they’re good questions, and that’s really the point – his argument is that despite what modern economists may claim, there are moral tradeoffs to becoming a market society, and we should stop and ask ourselves: are the tradeoffs worth it? Should we draw a line as to what is or isn't for sale, and if so, where should the line be? If nothing else, this book is a handy compendium of examples of what people are already buying and selling. I’d also recommend it for being a calm and well-reasoned (if slightly repetitive) argument rather than a typical and predictable anti-capitalist polemic.
View all my reviews
I'll buy that for a dollar,
This is dF
I Sing The Body Electric by Ray BradburyMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is another classic Bradbury anthology I haven't read before. It's one of his more famous books, perhaps in part because the title track – about a widower whose family decides to purchase an electric grandmother – was originally written as an episode of The Twilight Zone. Actually, almost all of the stories here would have been at home with that TV series in some form or other, as Bradbury covers his usual territory – a time traveler looking for Ernest Hemingway, a couple whose child is a blue tentacled pyramid, a man who claims to be Charles Dickens, the last man on Mars who gets a phone call from himself, a clairvoyant chicken, a robot Abraham Lincoln, a house that doesn’t want to be inhabited, etc. A few of them are duds (by Bradbury standards, anyway), but even ones that tread old ground (like “The Lost City Of Mars”, where a group of people find said city, which traps them by appearing to be their own personal idea of paradise) are told so well that it’s hard to be too critical – although Bradbury’s tendency to wax lyrical occasionally overwhelms the narrative. And when he nails it, boy does he.
The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K. Le GuinMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
The second book in the Earthsea series, and while the protagonist of the first book (Sparrowhawk, a.k.a. Ged) plays a key part of the story, the focus is on Arha, who is taken while still a child (age 5) to be the high priestess to the "Nameless Ones" at the Tombs of Atuan. The first half of the story follows Arha as she grows up, learns her role and duties, learns about the vast underground labyrinth that is her domain and hers alone, and slowly starts to realize how isolated she is by her power (both in terms of getting along with other girls and dealing with the priestess Kossil who is jealous of her power) and how little she knows about the outside world, particularly wizards and magic. After she comes of age and assumes her full responsibilities, her world is shaken when she discovers a strange man (Ged) in the labyrinth attempting to steal one of its treasures. I confess the first half seemed to drag a bit, and it only gets interesting when Ged turns up, but only because the story really comes alive for me when Arha is forced to question what she’s been taught and what she believes, which wouldn't work if her early life had been glossed over quickly. It helps that Le Guin, as always, is a great writer who keeps things moving, and knows when to take a worn fantasy-genre trope and turn it on its ear – especially the ending. I would still rate Le Guin’s SF books higher, but I’m liking this series, and I’m looking forward to the next installment.
Modesty Blaise: The Lady Killers (Modesty Blaise by Peter O'DonnellMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Another collection of Modesty Blaise strips (Volume 15 of the Titan reprints), this batch containing three story arcs from 1980-81, which also happen to be the first stories drawn by artist Neville Colvin. I admit jumping from Volume 1 (the previous collection I read) to Volume 15 invites some interesting contrasts – two of these stories are bit more whimsical than I’ve come to expect from Modesty Blaise (one involves dolphins, another features mad Commie scientists trying to convince Willie Garvin and British agent Maude Tiller that they’ve been shrunk to Lilliputian size). Still, it’s all good fun. Another interesting contrast: the strips got a lot racier by 1980, with the kind of gratuitous nudity and swearing you couldn’t get away with in an American daily strip. My only real complaint is Colvin’s art, which feels a bit loose at times, as if he was rushing to beat the deadline. Also included in this volume are all of the MB strips that appeared only in the Glasgow Evening Citizen newspaper in the UK and not the London Evening Standard (the strip was supposed to run in both papers simultaneously but it didn't always work out that way). Which is interesting, but the strips themselves are kind of pointless to read since they’re basically out-of-context excerpts from various story arcs across the strip’s 38-year run.
The Fire Eater by Ron GoulartMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
As I’ve been revisiting Ron Goulart, here’s one of his novels I actually haven’t read before – what I believe is the first Barnum System novel, in which John Raker of Soldiers Of Fortune Inc is hired to investigate a series of strange assassinations taking place on Esmerelda, a backward planet where sorcery and magic are real. Someone is killing officials of the ruling League Of Statesmen by remotely setting them on fire. Raker’s mission: find the assassin(s), stop them, and if possible find out how they’re doing it. This one is a little different as Goulart plays around with the fantasy-world gimmick. That said, as with all of his novels, Goulart sticks to his basic narrative template: laconic hero carries out his mission and plays straight man to the eccentric and talkative secondary characters he encounters. And like most Goulart novels I’ve read, it’s fun, light entertainment – which is what I come to Goulart for, so it met my expectations.
What Money Can't Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets by Michael J. SandelMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
In which Harvard professor Michael Sandel posits that the US (and much of the world, really) has evolved from a market economy to a market society under which, increasingly, many aspects of our lives are for sale: paying to jump a queue, paying children to read books or get good grades, prisoners paying for a cell upgrade, patients paying for a doctor’s cell phone number, buying a terminal patient’s life insurance policy, paying for the right to shoot an endangered black rhino, selling ad space on your forehead – the list goes on. And all of this is happening without any serious discussion about the moral implications of putting a price tag on everything, whether it’s a question of inequality and fairness (i.e. ability to pay) or corruption (i.e. diminished value). Sandel raises more questions than answers here, but they’re good questions, and that’s really the point – his argument is that despite what modern economists may claim, there are moral tradeoffs to becoming a market society, and we should stop and ask ourselves: are the tradeoffs worth it? Should we draw a line as to what is or isn't for sale, and if so, where should the line be? If nothing else, this book is a handy compendium of examples of what people are already buying and selling. I’d also recommend it for being a calm and well-reasoned (if slightly repetitive) argument rather than a typical and predictable anti-capitalist polemic.
View all my reviews
I'll buy that for a dollar,
This is dF
