Brother Odd

Brother Odd by Dean Koontz is the third novel in the Odd Thomas series. I have read the first two novels in the series as well; I think there are seven in total.  The first novel was jarring and it was darker, in many aspects, than I liked. The second novel was really quite bizarre and wild. I feel like for this third novel, Koontz dialed-back the totally crazy and pared down the setting quite a bit. In a way, it is almost the opposite of the pandemonium in the second novel, Forever Odd.

I am not going to lie – I utterly enjoyed this novel. I want to give it five stars, but if I do, I am honestly “afraid” that people will think that I have gone soft  or that such a rating will discredit my ratings generally.  The thing is, I said I enjoyed this novel, not that this novel is a great work of high literary worth. I could be bashful and not give it the rating I want to give it, but that does not suit. So, if readers of this blog think that I have lost my mind because of it, well, so be it.

Some of the reasons why I think this is a five-star novel include the setting. I really enjoy suspense novels that have “locked down” settings. The characters being stranded, trapped, isolated always seems to make a tightly-wound thriller. Not every such story is guaranteed to be a success. Often it happens that such stories start becoming repetitive or treading water, so to speak. However, I like the resourcefulness and courage that it makes the characters have (or not have, as the case may be) to stuff them into one location. Sometimes being stranded becomes boring – authors get stranded right along side those characters.   They have to keep our interest with a lot more limited space.  As a reader, I tend to enjoy seeing what authors can do with tight settings.

After the previous two novels, I think that the more subtle and reduced approach with the storytelling in this novel worked well. I was apprehensive that since the second novel had been so off-the-rails, this third would have to be completely outrageous. So, it was really good that Koontz pulled his foot off of the gas. In this novel, Odd Thomas is at a monastery in Sierra California. St. Bartholomew’s Abbey also has a school of sorts, which is really a home for severely disabled and unwanted children. The school is run by nuns. Odd Thomas breaks open the story sharing that he has been a guest in their guesthouse for about seven months.

Straightaway, the reader’s suspicions are built among the cast of characters – and obviously, it is a sense of something-or-other because in this location, these people have an added curtain of morals to their existence. Yes, the story taking place in a monastery gave me a little pause at first – I admit I was expecting Koontz to make a mocking and a very, let us say, agenda-ized story.  Truthfully, I cannot say that he did not – but it is 180° from what I was worrying about.

There is more faith in this story than in 90% of the things I have read in the last decade. Yeah, color me surprised.

Oh, the novel is also 30% suspense and 70% sentimentality.

I am not one that usually enjoys any emotional content in my novels. Usually, the emotional content in novels is so poorly-written it makes me grumpy. Somehow, for whatever reasons, this novel did not make me grumpy. When I say emotional, in this novel that usually means misery and pain. There is so much misery and pain that the characters in this novel seem to have around them – but the terrible, terrible, awful terrible part is that I know all the other parts of the novel are fiction. The pain parts…. the miseries and sufferings of the characters? Those parts are not fiction.  Humans can be a rotten lot.  Oh, I do not mean the specifics, naturally. Do not act like you do not know what I am talking about.  Anyway, my heart was sort of broken for some of the miserable characters in the book – but no, not them. I was unhappy because I know these characters represent real world situations/people. That bothers me.

Chapter 45 is particularly gut-wrenching in all respects. All respects. Its a multi-faceted viewpoint wherein the scenes depicted just swirl the emotional content every which way. And this includes the reveal of the true status of a specific shady character – yeah, the Russian character, of course. Its a scene, where time is of the essence, but the characters have to communicate information and backstory. Imagine standing in a hallway with a nun, Odd Thomas, and a big Russian dude – and they are talking about the horrific backstory to a poor child in nearby room. This chapter is a very heavy chapter. Mainly, I think, the point is to have the reveal about the Russian character and also show the fortitude and backstory relevance of Odd Thomas himself. It actually accomplishes a lot more than that.

This novel is not really anything other than a superficial, kind-of entertaining pulp fiction. I mean, you likely would not include it in your permanent collection and I do not think it is going to set Koontz up for any prized awards. The villain is kind of obvious and the pseudo-science is incredibly ridiculous. Is it very creative and horrific? Yes, I would say so. The horror is suspenseful, just like the incredible blizzard that arrives, wouldntchaknowit, right on time for the climax of the action!

I am telling you – its an eye-rolling story. It is a story so full of silly and goofy and ridiculous. Like the poltergeist who rings the bells or the dog, Boo, there are so many things that all the seasoned and skeptical readers will just be utterly disgusted by. All these silly comments by Odd all the time combined with the villain cut from a James Bond movie just make all the cool kid readers scoff and snort derision.  The problem is:  this is a story that you have to look at obliquely. Its true all the saccharine elements will make most readers feel like they ate too much candy and the whole story is just so contrived! These are true criticisms and I agree – but the contents that we have to look at obliquely are upsetting. I think most readers will rather focus on knocking around all the sentimentality rather than writhing in sorrow over the elements that do not go away after you close the book cover.

I know that there are a whole pile of readers out there that will not like this book whatsoever. They probably dislike it for a few differing reasons, as well. This book is really not for everyone. The author told me a good story that had elements in it that I could access and that also I could be entertained by. I know I cannot recommend this book to nearly anyone. That is okay, because even though I lamented above that there is all this crime and evil – I’m going to continue right along with my crime/noir reading like nothing ever happened. I think. Maigret is on deck. He is never cheery.

4.7 stars (bring it.)

Dinner

I did not know what to read after I read Murakami, but I felt that something non-English and maybe avant-garde was the way to go. So I have a couple of César Aira (b. 1949) novels (although… the word novel is not one he would enjoy my using) that I figured would do the trick.  I picked up Dinner (2006 / 2015) and though it is only 101 pages, it still took me a little bit to read through. The work is divided into three unnumbered sections.

This is the first Aira I have read and rather than fiddling about wondering the best access point, I just grabbed the Dinner and started reading. I knew only what the back of the book provides in terms of quotes, praise, and synopsis. I do not read a lot of zombie novels, mainly because I think the zombie-concept is one of our stupidest. I am all for a few vampires, shapeshifters, demons, ghosts, ghouls, etc., but those zombies just have me disengage and roll my eyes. No interest. So, my first Aira novel has content that is admittedly not in my favorites list; the novel is going to need to do some work to make me a fan.

The novel, which I have to read translated since I have no Spanish whatsoever, starts off a bit mundane and slow. It takes a minute to get used to Aira’s style, his tempo, if you will. He writes stream of consciousness-ish with a bit of lo-fi downbeat. Its mellow, but smooth. Nothing jarring, but a reader has to not become impatient. The more I read of the first section, the more I enjoyed the writing style – and the more it seemed to fit the story (whatever that was) that was being told.

A key component to this tale is the understanding of how some people talk about people and not events or places. I know as a youth you were probably told many times about how “small minds talk about people etc.” – I know this was one adage that was pounded into me. I feel it refers more to people who gossip, but I mean, at the end of the day, maybe the adage also applies to thinks like “celebrity news” and other “people” things. I fall prey to this sometimes, though, I hope in all honesty that it is not very often. I prefer to discuss ideas and events and things and really anything that is not petty and small. Lately, (a few years now) I have had the nagging and depressing feeling that the world at large spends more and more time on small and petty topics. I am digressing and its untoward. ANYWAY – this adage of talking about people is not really what is happening in this novel, so do not worry. The narrator is describing how his mother and so many in his world seem to build their reality out of names. They can only grasp events and structure and hierarchies through the mnemonic of the people involved – especially the people’s names. By using names as waypoints, the citizens of Pringles are able to go forwards and backwards and side to side regarding their memories and understanding of the community.

Its beyond name-dropping to impress or gossiping in order to thrive on sordid details. Somehow the names are the mapping for a lifetime of an individual and an individual community. Unfortunately, the narrator does not possess this particular “skill.”  Now, I have first-hand experience with this phenomenon, but I have never been able to so accurately and delicately describe it as Aira does here. My mother’s expertise in using people as waypoints and knowing all of the interconnectedness between them is on par with the narrator’s mother. I am very familiar with the ability of my mother to come upon the name of someone and then be able to piece together some history related to the community/church like a shamanistic anthropologist.

There was something magical in the way the most peculiar characters and events stuck to him. Nothing like that ever happened to me.  There was always something fairy tale-like about the things that happened to him, which he didn’t seem to notice; he confused them with reality. . . because they were his reality. His prosaic way of recounting them — without nuances — highlighted how objective the emergence of fable was in his life. — page 17

Here, the narrator is talking about his long-time friend with whom his mother and he dined.  His friend lives in a relatively large house with somewhat decadent taste and a collection of a variety of semi-precious oddities. The friend seems to be a gracious host and also manages to interact with the difficult personality of the mother with ease. In other words, the taxonomies of names and places does not ruin his stories or dinner. In some sense, I think Aira is describing himself. I do not know how close we are getting here to a self-portrait, but its close, I feel. Maybe I am wrong – I have never met Aira, of course, and this is my first reading of his work. However, it is a very strong impression that I got from the role that this friend plays in this tiny novel.

I do not want to give away much more of the book. There are a few remarks I would like to make regarding the zombies, though, that might be considered “spoilers.”  Well, readers be ye forewarned, I am about to talk about the zombie siege that takes place in the middle section of this novel.

Its possible to interpret this middle section in a variety of ways – and I think the lack of one definitive answer is what Aira is going for. He likes fairy tales and fables and magic so he is going to be more than happy to let the reader wonder and ponder on their own. Was the zombie siege legit reality? Was it all a disagreeable-food-induced nightmare? Was it one of those yucky moments TV watchers have when they fall asleep with the TV on and the subconscious blends the TV show with the imagination? Or is this whole section really just a metaphor that allows the author and reader to contrast the hedonists and the salt-of-the-earth realists?

It was one of the best banquets of the night, that defenseless conglomeration of rich French partygoers – a class of people who make the production of endorphins their life’s work. – pg. 67

Simple:  if we all need endorphins to overcome the animosity and tedium of the world, a cripple would need them that much more.  The idea, pretty cunning, was to get El Manco [the cripple] to accompany them on the way out; if they attacked, they’d get him first, giving the rest of them a few precious seconds to escape. – pg. 72

Needless to say I really prefer the metaphorical interpretation of this story. I like the concept Aira has given me of zombies not eating BRAINS, but drinking ENDORPHINS and how the endorphins are disbursed and utilized in Pringles. I like considering how the tastiest brains are the ones who are pleasure-seekers. There are all kinds of fun and interesting ways to analyze and dissect (see that?!) this concept and maybe that is why I like this interpretation best. It gives me food for thought (I did it again! haha!)

Overall, I wanted a little more out of the novel – I wanted a big huge shock or a reveal or a big moment or a rocking worldview. I am really impressed with the tempo and the descriptions. The writing is mellow and smooth. I liked a couple of the main concepts quite a bit and will spend time considering them during traffic jams and dull moments, I am sure. However, I do think the novel needed at least one big sparkling moment or something. Something exciting to contrast with the very low-key delivery.

3 stars

Forever Odd

The next novel that I finished in my current reading spree is the Dean Koontz ( b. 1945) story Forever Odd.  It is the second novel in the Odd Thomas series and was released in 2005.  I did read the first novel in the series, back in 2015. Overall, I liked this second novel more than the first because it was somehow just slightly less gory or dark or something. Well, there were some really dark parts in the first novel.  There are also some dark parts in the second novel, but they are somehow a bit more balanced and manageable, at least to me.

In 2015, I was not sure if I would continue the series. My household has, though, and I wanted to read the next novel so we can move the book on out, as we do when its been read by everyone.  Its weird and dark and yet there is something intriguing about the main character.  My problem with the first book is that the main character, Odd Thomas, seemed more mature and more intelligent than most twenty year olds that I meet.  That same problem holds in this book. In fact, in this book it becomes really obvious that Odd Thomas is not “just” a character, but he actually is, to some extent, the mouthpiece and alter-ego of the author. To what extent, I cannot say.  Is all of this a problem? Not at all. And to be very honest – maybe that is what I am reading these books for. I am a bit interested or intrigued or bemused or something about this situation. Do not misunderstand me, I am not rapt with fascination about anything here. I just find it curious and I want to see how all of this goes.

As I have said before, I have shied away from Koontz’ novels because I was not interested in how they seemed to be very much in the horror genre or even the dark and disturbing category.  I have a vague concept of a friend’s father reading a Koontz novel. He read whatever his wife picked up for him at the library book sale. He seemed to enjoy reading, but it was utterly diversionary – and I found it so strange that he would read whatever his wife purchased for him. As I recall, he would read mostly these sorts of paperbacks:  Koontz, Clancy, Grisham, et al.  I only read non-fiction back then. The reader I am speaking about died a few years back and I can still remember him lounging reading a Koontz novel.

Anyway, abandoning my digression – I just want to say that I never thought much about Koontz novels. Now that I am through two of the Odd Thomas novels, I find the author far more interesting.  Odd Thomas is interesting.  Koontz creates some of the weirdest, most bizarre, incredibly twisted characters.  Two books in, I find these books to be some of the most unbelieveable things ever.  More science fiction and more fantasy than actual books “officially” in those genres.  This is perfectly acceptable, though, because these are entertainments, not instruction manuals etc.  Still, if a reader likes suspense and thriller novels, these seem to even push the necessity for suspending disbelief farther than most fiction.  The plot is far out there, the characters are far out there, the novel’s events are far out there, and everything is just quite a bit, well, far out there.

There is something endearing and interesting about the main character, though, and I do mean beyond his “special” paranormal abilities.  A fry cook with occult skills is a unique character.  Very noticeably Koontz makes Odd Thomas much wiser than he ought to be.  For example, in this book, what Odd Thomas is able to accomplish tends to run beyond unbelieveable. He ends up doing stuff that one reads about in other novels done by career special forces guys with lots of awesome training. It is not just his lack of physical training – but also his skillful tactical thinking that seems stretched.

However, as a reader, I am pulling for him the whole time – c’mon, kiddo, you got this! And then every time one of the “oh nos!” happens I am indeed worried and scared for the guy.

Odd Thomas is likeable.  You root for him because he is unlucky yet he seems to still be humble and honest and a generally good person.  He laments things like his choice of shoes. He quips down-to-earth and utterly matter-of-fact things. For example, the contents of his backpack, which he eventually admits to selecting poorly, but which at the time seemed utterly correct. Its amusing, but also probably “realistic” (I mean, inasmuch as any of this is realistic).

The storyline in this one is a doozy, I am not sure it has believeable setup motives. It hinges on the bizarre – and I mean the really bizarre. So bizarre that its truly difficult to be horrified correctly. Drilled down directly, the whole plot stems from coincidence. A phone call connecting two people. What are the odds [pun!]?

I like the setting a lot. I am a sucker for rundown, abandoned buildings, chases in mazes, singular locations like hotels and forts. It is super weird – but put the weird in a fired-out, earthquaked ex-hotel and I am all in.

I mentioned above that this novel seemed less dark than the previous Odd Thomas novel.  I think because the humor and wit is even more present here – it really balances the totally bonkers weird dark stuff that is going on.  Ever been in an earthquake and a blizzard simultaneously? I have. Trust me, I was laughing like a fool because the utter ridiculousness of the situation was not lost on me – even as I worried about the damage/safety. Some day when I have a lot of spare time on my hands and I can just write frivolous nothings all day long, I am going to write an essay investigating the similarities of humor and horror.

This novel is not for all readers. The dark twisted stuff is dark and twisted, no matter how Koontz balances it with wit.  Still, Odd Thomas is an interesting character and worth reading a few novels for.  I think I will continue in the series, which would put me halfway and then, of course, why not finish it off? Readers who hate outlandish plots and action scenes may want to steer clear, there is a whole lot of “really out there” impossibilities.

3 stars

Elantris

I am finding this novel a very difficult novel to review.  I managed to type the title on this entry and then a lot of time passed; the fan clicking overhead, the birds outside chirping, and me:  utterly lost in my own head trying to sort out some thoughts that maybe are not specifically about Elantris, but Elantris was the catalyst.  Elantris by Brandon Sanderson was published in 2005.  It is Sanderson’s first published novel and I distinctly remember reading somewhere that he finished the first draft, at least, prior to 2000.

[Seriously, I cannot emphasize enough how many times the screen-saver on this laptop has auto-popped while I have sat here after typing a sentence on this post.]

At those times when a situation seems perplexing, I can rely on my Aristotelian traditions and look at things per se; cutting out the inessential appearances for just the actual reality.  Did I like this novel – yes or no? Yes. My answer comes without hesitation because it would be untrue to say that I did not like it.  All right, what is the thing that I liked best about the novel? I liked that its a “soap opera.”  What did I dislike the most about the novel? Pacing.  Who was my favorite character?  Probably Roial.  Would I recommend this novel to others?  Yes, its a long novel so I would not recommend it to folks that I know who…….. do not have the attention span that would be needed.

The novel is a glorified soap opera.  I think most of the novels in the fantasy genre are this way.  And I recognize I have introduced the term “soap opera” as if the meaning is utterly clear. Well, when I say that term I refer to melodramatic scenes and characters within the sweeping “operatic” manner in which the timeline unfolds.  Take any fantasy novel and write the main events as non-adjectival, no qualifier points. Tell the “story” of the novel as if you are an historian writing as impartially as you can a hundred years after the fact.  In this story, we could perhaps bullet point:

• marriage between prince and foreign princess
• religious leader arrives for mission in city
• unexpected medical event occurs

Far less of us readers would read that novel – because then, it is not entertaining at all. Its research, knowledge, etc.  If readers are interested in history, they want history – and usually with a depth of research and analysis folded into excellent presentation.  Readers drawn to fantasy recognize the soap opera styling and want to read about hugely melodramatic magical events and characters.

However:  and this is a stern statement to my fellow readers – do not pick up this fantasy [soap opera] and complain about it being a fantasy [soap opera].

The skeleton of this novel is that it is a zombie story placed in the context of typical nation-state wrangling for control.  Drive a thick beam of religion through the whole thing and that’s Elantris.  So, at its very base, this is a rather simple novel.  We should expect, and we do indeed get, a lot of political machinations, religious fervor and positioning, and a generally “mysterious” situation that is both key and not at all vital to the story.

One of my good friends wrote a blog review (from 2017) wherein they describe the novel as underwhelming.  They felt the author took no risks and the book ended up rather monotonous and mediocre. They gave it a 5 of 10 marks.  That’s not a spectacular rating, indeed.   However, I do have one very picky point to make:  my friend did not actually read the novel… it was an audiobook.  I strongly assert that entirely changes the novel. Nevertheless, I am going to say that some of the criticisms are valid.

Because the whole book is based on the political maneuvering of the city-states, there is a lot of potential for the author to really grab these concepts and wrangle them into exciting, intricate, and maybe even controversial postures. Instead, there seems to be a lot of hand-waving at political problems, making it read less like Plato/Socrates and more like Cratylus.  Our one political expert in the novel, Sarene, does have brief moments of fiery political opinion – but its incredibly short lived and rather more emotional than substantive. Like my friend said, no risks were taken.  So tell us, Sanderson, which political schema is the strongest, which is the best, which do you prefer, which are we going to experiment with in this book, which one of these is any different from the others?   Instead, we are somewhat led to believe the state Fjordell is run by brutal leaders, but that may or may not be truly bad. We never learn much detail about that place, anyway.

Similarly with the religious aspects – and there is a heavy amount of those in this book.  Now, Sanderson admits that his personal religious lifestyle does allow him to consider working various religious situations into his fiction.  I do not think he said anywhere that he is peppering his novels with his own religious viewpoints – you know, such as I call agenda fiction.  However, I do think that if an author is going to heavily rely on religion as a storytelling prop – and make it such a large portion of a novel – then they also need to make the religions come alive, be vibrant, be distinctive.  Frankly, as with the politics, he took no risks. More or less, the three religions in the novel are all the same, maybe differing in practice just enough to provide one with more motive than the others for being a “bad guy.”  But even that is not convincing, its just plausible. Sanderson wrote a couple of places online, at least, wherein he lets readers have a little insight into his religious storyline:

(https://www.librarything.com/topic/10977#117424)

(https://www.librarything.com/topic/11200#126503)

However, if you are going to run into this sort of territory and you want to really make your characters’ thoughts and actions meaningful, get into the religion and hammer it out, drive it home, color it up. Taking no risks with it causes the whole novel to feel a lot less impactful than its potential obviously showed.

Do not get me wrong – I absolutely do not want chapters and chapters of info-dumping and vague pontificating on the topics of religion and politics. Yuck.

None of this is bad writing, though.  It just is not very lively writing. It tends to be somewhat dull and measured. And being very measured makes the pacing seem very, very, very (600 pages very) slow. That being said, I am comfortable with the fantasy qua soap opera scenario and so I was quite content, though not enthralled, to follow the three main characters.  The novel is told in chapter points-of-view of Raoden, Hrathen, and Sarene.  I discovered (according to the All Wise Internet) that most readers disliked Sarene. She was my second favorite character.  A lot of readers just did not like this or that about her.  I liked her because she is too good to be true.  She’s really impressive – and she always, really, lands on her feet – like a cat!  Readers found her ridiculous because she seems to have endless amounts of willing helpers for no real reason. I liked this character, though, and while she is not entirely excusable, she is likeable.

Raoden is the character I liked least. I mean, maybe even more than the bad guy.  I found Raoden quite toxic and annoying and tedious.  Of the three chapters, I dreaded reading his the most.

Hrathen is actually the character that seems the most legit.  He is at once arrogant and yet insecure. He struggles with obedience and faith and job duties. He has failures in his past as-well-as successes that now he feels are failures.  He is a dynamic character and how he ends and whom he falls in love with – yes, other readers found this eye-rolling and obnoxious, but I really enjoyed it.  Again, its a soap opera, and I loved this element. It made me a happy reader. Go away you bitter, sour reader-grouches; y’all know this was utterly suitable for soaps!

Now, chapter 38 came out of nowhere for me. I was thoroughly surprised. I did not see that coming. So, when I got to chapter 38, I put the book down and commented on how surprised I was. I suspect it is because Sanderson’s measured writing in this one lulled me a bit and then surprise! I guess other readers might have suspected. But you know, and then this whole thing went sideways – yet again, so it really seemed inauthentic of Sanderson to have done that to me. But of course, it is TOTALLY what I would expect in a soap opera.

Poor author.  His first published book sold well, got a massive amount of readers, but it also opened him to a wealth of criticism.  Its over 600 pages so it gives critical readers lots of fodder for their expert (and non-expert) complaints.  At the end of the day, its easy to pull out the rapier and critique like we are all writing for The New Yorker.  We are not. We are just readers that lounge in our chairs and kibitz about books. And that is precisely what the writers and publishers want. Its an industry, is it not?

Elantris is not, absolutely not, a bad read. If you want a bad read, I am sure I can provide some awful stinkers for you to give yourself papercuts over.  Is it a great book? No. For the most part it is above-average, never taking risks, and very measured. I mean, but for a first published novel an author could do worse than be told his writing is “too measured.”  There is lots of potential here where it could have been beyond great, even.  The readers see that potential, though, and maybe that is why Sanderson has such a fanclub.  There seem to be some high expectations put on this author for some reason.  Hrathen could have been one of the greatest ever:  whispered in the list of Raistlin, Drizzt, and Allanon. I am glad I met him and hung out with him every few chapters for awhile, but I feel we were robbed of a very epic character.

I recommend it to all fantasy readers. Its an above-average novel with plenty of soap opera moments and the pacing is slow enough to make you regret your choice in books by page 250.  However, in for a penny-in for a pound, there are rewards to be had here and most soaps feel interminable, right?!

3 stars

Terminal Freeze

Recently, I finished Terminal Freeze by Lincoln Child. It was published in 2009 and I think has been on the to-be-read shelves forever. Among the slight changes in my reading habits this year (reading crime, reading small publishers, reading things other than science fiction) is the effort to clear the shelves! Be advised, I say that is a goal every year. I read Deep Storm by Lincoln Child in 2017 and I did not give it high marks. Terminal Freeze seemed both better and worse than that previous read.

As I started reading this, I was sure it was going to be a quick, but annoying read. For the first quarter of the book I was so unenthused and unimpressed. Everything seemed so utterly obvious, heavy-handed, and predictable. Not to mention, there was not anything about the plot that seemed even a bit engaging. All of the characters were vexing, the setting was annoying, the plot seemed very predictable. Halfway through the novel, I admit I was more engaged in the story and I was turning pages without annoyance. So its not high-brow literature, but what happens next? Maybe I’m a bit of a sucker because I just like being entertained by a story?

Since this is pulp-adventure, I do not want to ruin the thing by handing over the plot to those who may wish to read it. Suffice to say, it takes place in an old (Cold War era) US Army ice station in Alaska. There are a team of scientists there who are funded, through a number of channels, by Hollywood.  The scientists discover something, a random native shaman shows up, and then the base is overrun by the production company. The scientists are chafed because the production company takes charge and the “relationship” of the scientists and the movie-makers is clarified.  All hell breaks loose when the discovery, which is the focal point for the documentary, goes missing. Action ensues.

I have a lot of interests, but TV and movies, film and cinematography are not them. I am even confronted on occasion by film theory and I still struggle to participate.  I watch very little TV and film. And all the “classic” and “important” film? Yeah, I probably have not seen it – and you would not really want me to because it would be lost on me. I know everyone thinks I’m kidding when I say I lose track of where the TVs are in my home. I have known some film theory “fans/experts” and when they talk about these things they are very animated and it seems so intense for them. I appreciate that there are people out there with this interest.

I mention this to say that I have a natural (strong?) dislike toward film production. That it plays such a central component to this novel was a surprise for me and an immediate turn off.  There is a particular character who takes his film theory, film production immensely seriously – more important than life itself. (By the way, this is how ALL film theory/producers and directors seem TO ME. They all seem obsessed and eccentric and intense; is this image one that they self-cultivate?) This character is really well written because he does fit a lot of the stereotypes and he provides another challenge point for the storyline. Yes, he can be horribly obsessed and unbelieveable. He’s not a villain, per se, but he plays a character archetype – the weirdly obsessed/driven. Readers immediately will dislike him and as the story progresses, even his most devoted and loyal “co-workers” begin to be disgusted and disillusioned with him. However he is one of the reasons I am giving this novel another star:  thinking about the things he is saying about the filming, the film industry…. he is entirely correct, regardless of the morality of the situation. It is this intense “sacrifice everything for the product” mentality that is both abhorent and yet vitally truthful; unexpected in a pulp adventure novel.

I really enjoyed how no matter the setbacks or failures that occur, this character was pushing the boundaries and re-imagining his film creation. He even was willing, at the last, to do the grunt work himself. Morally misguided, perhaps, but utterly dedicated to his idea of what his work is.

He waved at two bookcases full of DVDs that framed the screen. “You see those? That is my reference library. The greatest films ever made: the most beautiful, the most groundbreaking, the most though provoking.  The Battleship Potemkin, Intolerance, Rashomon, Double Indemnity, L’Avventura, The Seventh Seal – they are all here. I never travel anywhere without them. Yet they are not just my solace, Dr. Marshall – they are my oracle, my Delphic temple. Some turn to the Bible, for guidance; others, the I Ching, I have these. And they never fail me.” – Conti, pg. 153 (chapter 18)

I admit throughout the book I was expecting a certain nefariousness from a character. I did keep waiting for Gonzalez (one of the soldiers) to show “true colors” and be at the heart of the drama. This never happened. But it frequently happens that I will not get the storyline guessed out. Instead, Gonzalez ended up being quite wysiwyg.  The character Logan, though, is utterly pointless. I don’t know what he does except to make it seem like he is a storyline guide, really. I have not read a lot of books where I felt like there was a character inserted in a plot that was a guide for the other characters to stay on plot. Its strange.

Frankly, the native shaman character was also a bit superfluous. I mean, he adds a bit of local interest and supernatural/unnatural flavor to the book. He is there to add a wee bit of Other to the novel, balancing out the science and military. But is he really necessary? Nope, honestly I kept waiting for him to “do something” other than just be native and mysterious. I guess he is the main character’s therapist or doppleganger or something.

Finally, the best parts of the action, I think, were the segments dealing with the ice road trucker. That was some edge-of-my-seat reading. If this is a thriller, it wasn’t because of the kaiju-monster-survival stuff, it was, for me, the nervous-wreck reaction to ice road driving. Maybe because I have had plenty of driving in blizzards and ice storms and I could access those feelings.

Not great literature and superficial and full of obvious plot points. The characters are very wysiwyg. The plot is survival within a difficult setting against a scary supernatural/unnatural monster. I am glad I finally read it and can recommend it as a good, lightweight adventure story to readers who need basic entertainment. Read it for the film aspects and less for the native Alaskan elements.

3 stars

The Atrocity Archives

The Atrocity Archives by Charles Stross was published in 2004. It is the first in the Laundry Series of novels. I think I acquired my copy (Ace 2009) of the novel in 2016. This is the first Stross novel I’ve read although the stacks have a few of his other works.

Stross seems to have a following of die-hard fans much like Neil Gaiman has.  I can see why; Stross’ work is rather original and it is clear that Stross is an intelligent person. I had high hopes for this novel, and I felt odd after reading it because so many readers have given this one such high marks – did I miss something? Thinking about this for awhile, it seems readers are reviewing the book they think that they read – or wanted to read, and maybe not actually the book that they really read. It happens more than one wants to realize….. My review is utterly honest, so if anyone disagrees with me, they can at least be satisfied I am not being disingenuous.

I read a lot of reviews saying this book is funny/comedic. Readers really seem to warm to the obnoxiousness of the bureaucratic silliness. Being bluntly honest: I don’t see it. There is some snark, which maybe is a little smirk-level amusing. There are some eye-rolling scenes wherein the “paper-clip-counters” are shuffling paperwork. But there’s nothing hysterical or laugh aloud here; a little sarcasm isn’t going to make me laugh my head off. Another novel that I read that has this issue is Midnight Riot / Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovich. (See my review.)

Stross is an ideas man – he’s very smart and he has some interesting concepts. As far as a writer? Well, honestly, this isn’t an example of great writing. The worst of it is dialogue; most of the characters seem written very stilted. They are archetypes, at best, not characters. In other words, they act/sound just like you think they should. Stilted writing. And wow, Dominique “Mo” is written awfully. Every dialogue or conversation is cringe-worthy. Its like…. if you took all the ill-conceived and incorrect stereotypes about autism and then made them even uglier. If the other characters are stilted, Mo is like a bad stereotyped autist developed by a computer that is beleaguered with viruses. Ugh.

The book rambles around and takes some time to find its feet. Seriously, the first third is perhaps introducing us to characters, but the storyline just sputters and spins. Now, once the story gets moving, it does turn into an action-thriller sort of business. Techno-fantasy-alternate history plot.

Stross has some great ideas that were fun to explore. I liked a lot of the concepts in the story. But they are not all written smoothly and seamlessly. A spy agency (the Laundry) that is full of techno-mages is super cool. But, for what its worth, I found the entire Nazi/Reich stuff to be off-putting. Its…. just too much… It made the novel feel a lot heavier and darker than it should have been. Its hard to laugh when Nazis are summoning demons.

At times I was wondering if the real flaw of the novel is that there is just too much stuff stuffed in it. Nazis, Old Ones, computer-jargon, physics, the Laundry, Middle Eastern terrorists, museums, summoning spirits, PDA-style tools, bureaucratic satire, references to a whole pile of what used to be consider geek/nerd material, etc. I do not doubt Stross knows about these things, but jammed on top of one another, all of it is cumbersome and tedious.

Overall, I liked many of the ideas, I liked the action scenes – I liked the Robert Howard homage, the Wolfenstein castle imagery, the pseudo-science mixed with real physics/math. I appreciated Stross mentioning Martin Heidegger (he doesn’t really feature in novels much, but I often feel like he would be awesome in science fiction stuff). But I did not find this very amusing and as a whole it seems like the author was trying too hard. It seems forced everywhere. Now, I have book two, so I think I will give Stross and The Laundry another shot.

2 stars