August book arrivals

Here are some August 2012 book arrivals.

The Weird: A Compendium of Strange and Dark Stories edited by Ann and Jeff VanderMeer is massive, over 1100 pages, two columns of text per page. The stories are arranged chronologically, representing fiction across the past 100 years or so. It's a remarkable anthology. Michael Moorcock contributes a "Foreweird" and China Mieville an "Afterweird."

Sharps is the latest novel from K. J. Parker. Parker is the author of The Fencer Trilogy, The Engineer Trilogy, The Folding Knife, and The Hammer.

The Fox Woman (2000) was the first novel by Kij Johnson. It won the Crawford Award for best first fantasy novel. After reading her Nebula Award-winning novella, "The Man Who Bridged the Mist" (2011), I decided it was time to catch up with Johnson's novels.

Fudoki (2003) is the second novel by Kij Johnson. It was shortlisted for the World Fantasy Award and the James Tiptree Award. Johnson has a new collection of short fiction due out this month, At the Mouth of the River of Bees.

Bullettime is the newest novel from Nick Mamatas. Mamatas is the author of Sensation, Under My Roof, and Move Under Ground.

Some Remarks: Essays and Other Writing by Neal Stephenson is an odd mix of non-fiction and fiction, essays, interviews, and journalism. It should provide plenty for readers (like me) waiting for Stephenson's next huge novel. Norman Spinrad has a review of Some Remarks, available at Los Angeles Review of Books.

Three novels that were too damn long

I've read three novels published in 2011 that were just too damn long. At some point, my interest faded and it was only the desire to see it through that compelled me to continue reading to the end.

A Dance with Dragons by George R.R. Martin, 1040 pages
Reamde by Neal Stephenson, 1056 pages
1Q84 by  Haruki Murakami, 944 pages

A Dance with Dragons is a middle volume in Martin’s multi-volume epic, A Song of Ice and Fire, that began with A Game of Thrones (1996). The current volume is the fifth, yet I dare say even Martin seems unsure how many volumes (or years) remain before the end. This is the sort of series that is really one long continuous story. Each volume offers little, if any, closure. It’s the sort of series that I usually avoid reading until the final volume is published. Reading this series has taught me again why I adopted such a policy. Still, there is much to enjoy. In the current volume, there is a wedding scene that is achingly well written, evoking a spectrum of strong emotions. On the whole, alas, it wanders. Characters travel, deals are made, battles are fought or avoided, and so very little is accomplished. It’s a pleasure to spend time in the world that Martin has carefully created, even if the time spent seems aimless.

Reamde is an exercise in plot, or so Stephenson has said in interviews. Unfortunately, by focusing on plot Stephenson has stripped away many of the reasons I enjoy his novels. While Reamde has a science-fictional gaze on the world, it is not science fiction. It’s set in the immediate future. He is the great explainer of concepts, as I’ve written before on this blog, and here he explains a new massive-multiplayer online game, and the economics of gold-farming within the game, which may seem overly familiar if, like me, readers have played a MMORPG sometime in the past decade. What remains is a thriller involving computer hackers, the Russian mafia, and terrorists. A diverting ride, yet disappointing coming, as it does, after a more thoughtful novel, Anathem (2008). (SF Strangelove’s review of Anathem.)

Murakami’s novel 1Q84 (or trilogy of novels, as it was originally published in Japan) is set in Japan in an alternate version of our year 1984, notably different for the presence of two moons in the sky and a handful fantastic events, such as an immaculate conception. The story exists somewhere on the spectrum of what John Clute calls fantastika, which embraces science fiction, fantasy, horror, and related works. I would call it an example of fantastika-lite, where the fantastic elements are used merely for mood and effect, rather than as concepts to be examined and explored. The underlying story is a boy meets girl, boy and girl are separated, and eventually boy and girl are reunited. This simple structure did not sustain my interest for 900-plus pages. These pages are filled with enormous amounts of repetition and padding. Characters frequently repeat dialog back to each other, then they share, and re-share, and re-re-share the same information and concerns over and over again. Amid the multitude of digressions there are some interesting stories within stories. Not enough to make it worth recommending. I could go on about the dozens of “pervy” references to women’s breasts, or the unconvincing way that female characters talk to each other about their breasts (“like a teenage boy’s fantasy of a woman describing another woman’s breasts”). The quotes are from Charles Yu’s review of the book and he has done a fine job. (Charles Yu’s review of 1Q84. Edited: link updated.)

Anathem

Anathem by Neal Stephenson (William Morrow, 2008)

This was my top choice among the nominees for best novel at the recent Hugo awards, announced at Anticipation in Montreal. According to the voting breakdown, Anathem finished third.

Anathem is not principally about story or ideas, although it contains plenty of both. The brilliant laser-focus is on process: how to reason, how to argue, how to integrate ideas, and when thought should lead to action.

Stephenson posits an alternate Earth, similar in many ways to our own. His mind-boggling achievement in science-fictional world-building is that he has recapitulated, in large part, Western philosophy and thought in a skewed alternate presentation that allows the reader to see it fresh. This is a hugely ambitious novel (and huge physically: the hardback is over 900 pages).

The story, for most of its duration, is set in a “math,” which is a hybrid of a college and a monastery. The book is mostly static, devoted to talking-heads. But what conversation! The characters discuss what they’ve learned, and integrate new events and concepts, covering great swaths of philosophy, math, and science.

Shaking up their understanding of the universe, and how they think their thoughts about the universe, is that great recurring theme of science fiction: first contact with aliens. The action, when it arrives two-thirds through the book, is involving and satisfying.

Realistically, there are some barriers to enjoyment of this novel: it’s huge, it’s people talking about abstract ideas, it’s not character driven, and for two-thirds of its length it’s not plot driven. For me, the only one of these that actually proves to be a drawback is that some of the characters are a little flat and various relationships move in directions that should have more emotional resonance than they do. There are some memorable characters, particularly Orolo and Jad. Another possible barrier is Stephenson's propensity for using invented terms, many of which are interesting and clever, and some of which are merely placeholders for equivalent terms. I fell head-over-heels for his term for someone who believes in Heaven and God: Deolater.

Despite these drawbacks, which are significant, this book is an amazing accomplishment. The strengths and weaknesses recall Isaac Asimov, who filled many novels with talking heads, and gave little consideration to depth of characterization. Stephenson seems well-prepared to take up the Asimovian mantle of the great explainer of concepts and ideas.