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Redbird ([personal profile] redbird) wrote2004-09-11 11:33 am
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Book notes

One of the nice things about my trip to Montreal was that I read quite a bit--including books I bought (one at the airport, one at a used bookshop in Montreal) and a selection of [livejournal.com profile] rysmiel and [livejournal.com profile] papersky's libraries.

"The 47th Island", R.A. Lafferty. Lafferty is sui generis, and his space travel/colonization stories aren't doing what most people's are. This time the notionally superior and rational colonists, who get to make the rules on who goes to the next, cooler colony world, cannot convince the rest of the population (which numbers only a few dozen) that being chosen is worthwhile. (This was in a collection called Basilisks, edited by Ellen Kushner; I suspect it got in as much because Kushner simply liked the story as because of the snakes.)

"The Human Front," Ken MacLeod--lots of nice alternate history worldbuilding. It's clear from the first sentence that this isn't our universe, and then there are details, the sort that remind me of [livejournal.com profile] jerrykaufman's observation that the more you know, the more jokes you get. Magnetogorsk and Roswell, forsooth, and a sideswipe at "Dr." John Gray.

The first two collected volumes of the Lucifer comic. I kept laughing at bits of dialogue, and then [livejournal.com profile] rysmiel (who was sitting next to me with a book) would ask what I'd laughed at, and I'd quote a line and get a smile of recognition: I wish I had that good a memory for dialogue and context.

Reread most of John M. Ford's How Much for Just the Planet? then went to make a phone call and couldn't find the book afterward. Bear in mind that I was the only person out of bed at that point, and I looked in all the obvious places, some of them twice. Rysmiel tried to find it later, after I reported it missing; it's still hiding. [I also left behind a bag from a used bookshop, containing Tom Stoppard's Jumpers and a book on the birds of Siberia. No, I don't know why I bought that, except that I like birds, and I like books.)

Bill Bryson, In a Sunburned Country, a cheerful travel book about Australia by a writer who genuinely loves Australia and Australians and has noticed, without focusing exclusively on, the existence, history, and current conditions of Australian Aborigines. Bryson notes that the great question of Australian history is how did they get there? How did they invent ocean-worthy boats tens of thousands of years before anyone else--before Lascaux, to give some context--and then forget or lose interest in them entirely?

Sue Grafton, P Is for Peril: another good mystery in a series, though I'd think Kinsey would be a little better at looking over her shoulder by now.

Charles Stross, Singularity Sky, very good: background, characters, and plot all work. Cool mole rats, too. Charlie, were we supposed to recognize them as such within the first two sentences, or is this evidence that you and I have read more of the same stuff than I realized?

Robert Reed, "Veritas", a novella about American time-travellers who decide to conquer ancient Rome. (The set-up for this is that it becomes possible to go to the past, but rather than causing paradox, this creates a new time-line.) Specifically, they arrive in March of 44 BCE; Octavian is a major character. Based on this (and some rather favorable reviews in NY Review of SF), I want to read more Reed.

[identity profile] roadnotes.livejournal.com 2004-09-11 08:46 am (UTC)(link)
If you want to finish How Much for Just the Planet? I can lend you a copy.