Becoming Pretentious Over Time — Cue Pipes, Long Diatribes About Literature, and Writing
Fact One: Apparently button-up shirts, nice ties, nice sweaters, and nice slacks are my new thing. They’re so much “my new thing” that I’m wearing them even though I have no intention of leaving the house (I’m currently sitting at a table on a houseboat that overlooks the Columbia). Hello! I’m a houseboat on the Columbia. You’ll have to excuseme for not having anything green growing. It’s winter, whichtypically means that nature decides to hibernate…unless youlive in Florida, where nature is constantly trying to kill you… I see all this as my slow decline into pretentiousness. Call it an evolutionary pathway for all PhD students. The longer you stay in academia, the more likely you are to fall into its grasp, from which no human being can escape! And if I’m falling into the pretentious hole of wonders, where my days are spent contemplating my research or the literary merits of obscure small press novels (hey, they’re good, so shut up), then I might as well embrace it, right? No? Really? Oh. Good. Glad that’s settled. All this is a really abstract way of explaining that things are changing around these parts. I’ve finished with Fall Semester’s insane grading cycle and have begun this thing they call vacation. At some point, I’m going to start writing fiction again, because I’ll have the time to actually think about stories and narrative and characters (90 hour work weeks make that somewhat difficult, to be honest). On top of that, I’m going to do some more reading (partly for interviews I’ve got lined up with some amazing folks and partly for my own enjoyment). And some where in all that, I’ll blog about more literature-related stuff (some SF/F, some not), more movies, more things that interest me (and, by extension, you). Wish me luck or something. ——————————————————- P.S.: If there must be a second fact, it is this — somewhere in all this strangeness is an elf with a missing sock; he wants it back and will kill for it. Watch yourselves.
Dear Christmas: My Favorite SF/F Re-Reads
There’s still time to get to the shops and buy that special gift for your estranged husband or twice-removed cousin. Okay, let’s face it. You’re not buying gifts for them. If you’ve popped onto this page, it’s for one of three reasons: You read this blog. You told me to write on this topic. You’ve got a weird scifi and fantasy geek child or friend and you have no idea what to get them. If you’re in the #3 category, then prepare yourself for this completely uneven list of books I enjoyed enough to read more than once! Here goes: Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson I’m biased, because Hopkinson (and Buckell) was one of the authors I focused on in my Master’s Thesis. It’s also a novel I’ve reviewed for SF Mistressworks and one I’ve taught at the college level. It’s an enormously rich book, too. Caribbean folklore + science fiction + twin worlds = simply stunning. Crystal Rain, Ragamuffin, and Sly Mongoose by Tobias S. Buckell All three are amazing. Like Hopkinson, Buckell mixes in Caribbean references and characters, but drags them out into the wide world of Space Opera throughout the series (Crystal Rain is almost a Civil War-style steampunk novel, while Ragamuffin and Sly Mongoose are exciting Space Operas — the latter includes zombies and floating habitats in the atmosphere of a Venus-like planet). I love reading them over and over (plus, The Apocalypse Ocean, book four, is also damned good). 1984 by George Orwell This is one of the few books I will read over and over and over again. I used to read it once a year, but I haven’t done that for a while. But if you’ve ever read the book, you’ll understand why: it’s one of those books that benefits from re-reading because you’ll discover new stuff all the time. And I mean that. There are so many little details in this book. Orwell was a genius! Zoo City by Lauren Beukes Folks will notice a trend on this post. That trend goes something like this: how many books written by people from other countries (originally or currently) can I stick on a single list? Well, get over it. Most of what I read these days are books by folks from elsewhere, in part because that’s what I study. Go figure. Lauren Beukes is our resident South African writer. And she’s a good one! Zoo City remains one of my favorite books of all time. It mixes animal familiars with amateur sleuthing and social commentary, which is A+ in my book. The Palm-wine Drinkard by Amos Tutuola It’s weird to Westerners and controversial to many African scholars. No matter which side of the world you come from, though, I think this is one of those unique, fascinating pieces of literature. Every time I read it, I’m amazed by the oddness, the rapid pace, the almost spoken-word style of storytelling, and the folklore. I recommend it to anyone who loves weird stuff. City of Saints and Madmen by Jeff VanderMeer This remains, for me, one of the top three greatest New Weird books ever written (assuming, of course, that New Weird actually exists — I’m not convinced anymore, but it’s a catchy word that I find useful). There’s no way to describe this book without ruining some of its most compelling parts, so I’ll just say this: it has an appendices full of letters, documents, and other wonderful bits, all of which enhance the story. The Forever War by Joe Haldeman I suspect most of you are familiar with this one. Good. You should be. It’s one of the greatest science fiction novels ever written (top ten for me). If you haven’t read it, then all you need to know is this: a thorough examination of social change and war in a far future, military space opera setting. It’s amazing. That is all… Perdido Street Station by China Mieville Another great New Weird novel. Mieville is, I think, one of the most innovative writers in SF/F right now (alongside Jeff VanderMeer). Perdido Street Station is no exception. The way he constructs creatures, cultures, cityscapes, and so on is admirable. I suggest everyone start with PSS, but even works like Embassytown or The City & the City contain some interesting concepts and ideas. He’s one of the new greats (hopefully he’ll keep producing new and innovative work for years to come). Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut Vonnegut is another of those strange writers. I’m still unsure if Slaughterhouse-Five is actually science fiction or some kind of PTSD novel. It’s probably both at the same time. Either way, it’s an amazing book. There are compelling uses of “time travel,” social commentary, weird digs at science fiction, and much more. If you’ve never read it, you should. Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower nearly made me cry. That’s not small feat, if I’m honest. Usually, I only cry while reading books in which I already have emotional investments. Butler’s work, however, is incredible. Sower follows a young woman with a rare form of synaethesia that allows her to feel what others feel. That might be cool in times of plenty, but this novel is set in a post-apocalyptic United States where pretty much everything has gone to complete crap and humanity is clinging desperately to its little pieces of civilization. It’s a brilliant read. The House of the Stag by Kage Baker I love this book more than I love breathing. Well, sort of. I really love breathing too… The House of the Stag combines fairytales, epic fantasy, and awesome in one little package. When I first read it years ago, I fell in love with it. The way Baker plays with fairtale narratives to create something fresh and new (along with her unique way of using theater-related stuff in the narrative) is, well, fresh and new. What more do you want me to say? One For Sorrow by Christopher Barzak Barzak is a