February Books Read

Despite being a short month, and with three astronomy nights in there as well, I still managed to read 11 books; seven from my Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery project, one off the shelf, and three from Kindle.  Needless to say my actual miscellaneous shelf is now down to about five books, from about fifty not so long ago.  Almost everything I buy now is on Kindle, at least 95 % of my book purchases.

The month always begins with Robert Silverberg, but this time he collaborated with Isaac Asimov.  There are at least three such books I will be reading in the course of completing the project (someday).  Nightfall is from 1990, and was the first collaboration.  Very loosely based on a 1940s short story by Asimov, the novel is the story of a post-holocaust society, much like the ones written by nearly every other SF author, including Algis Budrys, John Christopher (his specialty), Edgar Pangborn, and so on.  The differences here are worth noting, however.  This is an alien society, much like humans on Earth, but they are not humans on Earth.  They live on a planet with six suns, and dark skies are unknown here.  Except once every 2049 years.   Still, after the Mad Max movies, and so many previous tales of the mayhem that will ensue when society collapses, I am surprised that this book was written.  Of course without those big names on the cover, it is doubtful if it ever would have been published.

Isle of Woman by Piers Anthony was next.  From 1993 comes the first book in yet another epic series, this one under the title of Geodyssey.  This first book is 470 pages long, including the author's afterword.  In his own words, this is 'history light,' and the simple writing seems aimed at a high school audience.  He said that he hated history in school, finding it dull.  He wanted to make it more interesting with this series, which begins with a story from 3.7 million years ago, up to one from the near 'future' of 2021.   Probably something I would have found interesting around Grade Ten or Eleven.  I have one more Anthony book in my collection, the second book of this series.  At that point, I will likely stop reading Anthony's series.  I will carefully check out any remaining single novels before buying anything else by him.  59 books read so far, which is not even half of what he has written.  This book wins cover of the month.

Cover of the Month for Feb. 2023 goes to artist Eric Peterson.

From 1975 comes Boarders Away the 128 page continuation of the fascinating story of Commander Fox, that devil of the high seas.  Now under the command of a man he detests, obstacles to promotion are again put in Fox's path.  He always performs gloriously, craftily, and ruthlessly, yet is seldom, if ever, given the recognition required for his service in His Majesty's Royal Navy.  This time he must land two spies on French soil, then return to pick them up with other passengers on the next night.   Of course plans go awry, and Fox must use all his courage and ingenuity to make things right.  His reward is to be left behind, undermanned, while the other ships in his fleet go into action.  Guarding four prize ships turns into disaster for Fox, however, and the book ends in a most pessimistic way.  Bulmer is in top writing form once again, having found his true subject matter.

 

From 1970 comes The Jester of Scar, Book 5 of the Dumarest series. 

Scar is a planet that has useful spores.  However, some of them are deadly to humans.  To be safe when outdoors in the wild a special filtered suit must be worn.  We are not certain as to why Dumarest is here, but the opening scene is a classic Tubb setting, as two bullies come looking for trouble in a hut where he is staying with a woman.  On an excursion into the wilderness in search of valuable spores, Dumarest hits the jackpot.  The only problem is the location, on the other side of a treacherous range of steep hills.  The main adventure has Dumarest and his partner trying to reach, and then to harvest the crop.  Even without interference from the bad guys, it is unlikely they would have survived the ordeal.  But there is also aid from the leader of another nearby planet, visiting Scar.  The plot is just thick enough, and the adventure story is suitable readable.  Of course Dumarest learns nothing further about Earth.  Until next time....

 

From 2005 comes the 2nd and final edition of Wonder's Child, Jack Williamson's autobiography.  For anyone interested in the history of American SF, this book is a must read.  For any writer finding it difficult to impossible to get published (I raise my hand here), the book offers lessons, and again hammers home how difficult a task that has always been.  Above all else, Jack loved SF, and he helped legitimize it through college courses, and training high school English teachers to use it in the classroom.  there is no doubt that the field would be very different today without Jack's hard work.  What a life!  A highly recommended read.

 

Legends From The End of Time by Michael Moorcock was published in 1975.  It contains four stories, two novelettes and two novellas, of events occurring at the end of time in the absence of Jherek Carnelian, when he is off on his own adventures.  The first story, Pale Rose, and the last, Ancient Shadows, are the best ones and well worth seeking out.  It does take a while to get used to the people who live at the end of time, but once readers are familiar with them and the way they live, there is a delightful world of fantasy here to discover.  Best of all, Jherek is not missed.

A collection of short stories by Malzberg nicely finished of the SF portion of the reading month.  The Man Who Loved The Midnight Lady is a collection of stories and essays published in 1980.  There are several gems, especially the brief afterwards by the author for the 2021 edition.  I always recommend Malzberg, though his short stories are not the place to begin.  The short series taking place in Writers' Heaven is noteworthy in this collection; fun and quite hilarious.  The essays, though now quite old, are still good to read.  Malzberg rails against the prejudice held by traditional literature towards SF writing, lamenting that not one major prize was awarded to a SF novel during the 1950s.  Despite some of the best writing of that decade being SF, it is certainly a bone of contention.

Towards the end of the book Malzberg announces his own "best book of the decade by American writers" awards, up through the 1970s.  I took him at his word, finding as many of his winners on Kindle as I could manage to, and downloading them.  Some were free or very inexpensive, while others were top dollar (for Kindle books).  But I have them all except for one, which seems very rare.  Here is the list of his "awards."

1920s--A tie.  The Great Gatsby; The Sun Also Rises.

1930s--The Low Company, by Daniel Fuchs.

1940s--The Naked and The Dead, by Norman Mailer.

1950s--Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison (unavailable currently).

1960s--Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates.

1970s--The Franchises, by Stanley Elkin.

So we begin the next phase of reading in February.  I began with The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  I actually read this in high school, in Gr. 12.  Our school (Lasalle Secondary, in Sudbury) actually had a college level English department.  Classes would meet as per usual twice per week; twice per week we would meet in half class size round table seminars; and on Friday all classes would meet in the little theatre for ensemble lessons.  These were often dramatic readings or student acted performances of scenes from plays or novels being studied.  However, in addition to all this, a second and advanced English class was available to certain hand picked students.  There were twelve of us in this class, mostly boys if you can believe it, and we had to read at least a book a week.  Sometimes we were given a novel Friday afternoon, and by Monday we had to have a 500 word review ready to read to the class, defending our position.  Such it was with The Great Gatsby.  I only wish I still had my review from back then.

Reading it again more than a few years later, I can truly say that it is a remarkably good novel.  The first chapter, in which the main characters are introduced (all except Gatsby, who is still only a shadow), is one of the best first chapters of any novel ever read by this reviewer.  The parties, the empty lifestyles, the social criticism, and the gradual appearance of Gatsby's true character (nothing less than a knight in shining armour) come as revelations in how to write a novel.  The tragedy itself is barely sketched out, and if you reading the novel Sunday morning in bed after a long night of Saturday night partying, it would be easy to glance over and even miss!  Such are the events of life, and thus the invention of the "double take."  Anyway, I loved the book, and highly recommend a reread, if it's been awhile.

Next came a physical book from the shelf, one of my few remaining.  The latest Anne Hillerman mystery is called Sacred Bridge, and is from 2021.  Her next book should be out by April.  Jim Chee, Navajo police sergeant, is on a short personal holiday away from his home territory of Shiprock, NM.  He finds a body (don't we all?) and he becomes involved in the mystery of who killed the male victim, and why.  Meanwhile back on the home front, Bernadette (Chee's wife and also a Navajo constable) is dealing with the bullying tactics of a local cannabis farm, going undercover to see exactly what is going on.  Not a bad entry, and we again get to visit the fabulous landscape of the four corners area (which we have never visited ourselves!).

Now came two books from my Delphi Classics series.  The first one was Coffee and Repartee, from 1893.  It is the second humourous book by J K Bangs I have read and enjoyed.  What began as a series of short stories was bundled into this novel, which became so popular that it became a series.  A group of male boarders meet each day for meals, and have discussions.  The only females present are the landlady and her maid.  The conversations are invariably philosophical and often quite hilarious.  The star of the show is The Idiot, who bandies words with a man of the collar, a school master, an imbiber (his ally), a physician, a bibliophile,and a few other straight characters.  Highly entertaining, and I am looking forward to other books in the series.

Things wrapped up with an early collection of stories by J. M. Barrie called Auld Licht Idylls, from 1888.  There are 12 stories related to the doings of a small, out of the way Scottish village called Thrums.  It is difficult for a modern reader to relate to the meagre and spiritless existence of these god-fearing folk, and though the stories are told towards the humourous side of things, it is still appalling to think that any such folk ever existed, outside of fairy tales.  The first story, "The Schoolhouse," introduces the narrator, the local school master, and is the strongest of the set.  Many of the others are funny and quite revealing, but ghastly just the same.  The stories to do with anything religious are the funniest and the most head shaking.  Almost unbelievable, but not quite.

Next blog is already underway, dealing with the February film festival here at the Homestead.  See you soon.

Mapman Mike