Just a pre-notice: Anyone reading this review expecting to read about a religious book will be disappointed.
I did not expect to like this book at all. From descriptions I had read, I expected it would be similar to Post Office by Charles Bukowski, which I hated, because it seemed to glorify and justify addictions. Besides, that one was not even very well written, in my opinion. But then a friend whose literary opinions I trust said Jesus' Son was "beautiful," so I decided to give it a chance.
And it is beautiful. And powerful. And brutally humorous. And about the saddest book I have ever read.
In a series of very short stories, Johnson gives us a look into the hallucinatory world of a heroin and alcohol addict, and, believe me, it is not a nice place to be. The narrator seems (figuratively) to be lost in a terrifying carnival fun house with no idea how to get out, not sure of what is real and what is not any more, and having perhaps even lost memory of the "real" world. The ending story does give some sense of hope, even though the narrator has been perhaps irreparably damaged.
The writing combines grittiness and poetry, with the contrast making each more powerful.
This would not be a book that all would like. It is very intense and not very cheerful. It's good that it is short, because I, for one, could have not have been immersed in that world for too long without extreme discomfort. But it is, indeed, beautiful.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
The Complete Amber Chronicles, Part I by Roger Zelazny
Second reading; first read in the '70s.
I read and liked the first five books of this fantasy series when they were published in the 1970s and recently decided to read them again, only to discover I no longer had the books. On looking to Amazon to see if they were still in print, I was delighted to discover that a Great Book of Amber has recently been published, containing all ten of the Amber novels. I have not read the last five, which feature a different character and were written in the 1980s, so I have those to look forward to. This is a review of the first five in series.
The Amber Chronicles follows in the grand fantasy tradition of Tolkien and Frank Herbert in creating an alternate world. Although Zelazny does not even approach the previously mentioned authors in the complexity and believability of his creation, he does come up with some interesting ideas. For example, Amber is the only true place and the myriad of alternate worlds are merely Shadows (including the earth we readers live in, of course). The narrator of these first five books, Prince Corwin, says, "Of Substance, there is only Amber, the real city, upon the real Earth, which contains everything. Of Shadow, there is an infinitude of things. Every possibility exists somewhere as a Shadow of the real Amber." Only the royal family of Amber has the ability to travel from one shadow world to another, although they do have the ability to take others with them. They can also contact each other and travel through the use of a pack of tarot-type cards.
Nine Princes in Amber, Book 1, gives the reader the background information about Amber and its royal family through Zelazny's clever device of having the narrator, Prince Corwin, awake from a coma with amnesia on our world. As he learns about his home through regained memories, with the help of some of his relatives, we learn along with him. The main action of the book is the attempt by Corwin and his brother Bleys to defeat their brother Eric, to keep him from taking the throne. It seems the king, Oberon, has been whereabouts unknown for some time, although we have hints that he may not be dead.
The Guns of Avalon, Book 2, finds Corwin with a new plan to defeat Eric, which includes a trip to Avalon (a Shadow with the King Arthur characters) to secure ammunition for a weapon previously unknown in Amber. A new danger also appears: a black area with a black road, which seems to be present not only in Amber but also in all the Shadow earths. Out of this darkness come all kinds of strange creatures and demon-like humans, threatening all peoples in Amber and in its Shadow earths. If this concept sounds familiar, you may be thinking of Stephen King, who used it in several of his novels. And Zelazny came first. Coincidence?
Sign of the Unicorn, Book 3, concerns itself mainly with plots and counter-plots among the brothers and sisters of Amber. Some are killed, and nobody completely trusts anybody else. This family makes the Game of Thrones people look like amateurs at the art of intrigue. Some metaphysical elements begin to enter the story, culminating in a dramatic concluding scene.
The Hand of Oberon, Book 4, follows Corwin as he continues trying to unravel the tangled schemes of his siblings. One brother is murdered, another is rescued from a tower prison only to disappear again, and a long-lost son is found. The origins of Amber are disclosed and the cause and destination of the black road is discovered.
In The Courts of Chaos, Book 5, the Amber royals (with the exception of one) unite to fight the army of The Courts of Chaos, where the black road originates. At the same time, the one renegade Amberite has gone mad and is attempting to destroy the primal Pattern which allows Amber and its Shadows to exist. The action includes a l-o-n-g trip through surreal Shadows by Prince Corwin which sounds like an acid trip gone bad.
The individual books are all short (novellas, really) and easy to read, so that reading all five is no chore. If any are read, all should be read, in order to get the full story. After the first two, however, the plots and schemes of the characters become a bit tedious and contrived. This is somewhat enjoyable as escapist reading, but not nearly as well done as many others of the genre.
I read and liked the first five books of this fantasy series when they were published in the 1970s and recently decided to read them again, only to discover I no longer had the books. On looking to Amazon to see if they were still in print, I was delighted to discover that a Great Book of Amber has recently been published, containing all ten of the Amber novels. I have not read the last five, which feature a different character and were written in the 1980s, so I have those to look forward to. This is a review of the first five in series.
The Amber Chronicles follows in the grand fantasy tradition of Tolkien and Frank Herbert in creating an alternate world. Although Zelazny does not even approach the previously mentioned authors in the complexity and believability of his creation, he does come up with some interesting ideas. For example, Amber is the only true place and the myriad of alternate worlds are merely Shadows (including the earth we readers live in, of course). The narrator of these first five books, Prince Corwin, says, "Of Substance, there is only Amber, the real city, upon the real Earth, which contains everything. Of Shadow, there is an infinitude of things. Every possibility exists somewhere as a Shadow of the real Amber." Only the royal family of Amber has the ability to travel from one shadow world to another, although they do have the ability to take others with them. They can also contact each other and travel through the use of a pack of tarot-type cards.
Nine Princes in Amber, Book 1, gives the reader the background information about Amber and its royal family through Zelazny's clever device of having the narrator, Prince Corwin, awake from a coma with amnesia on our world. As he learns about his home through regained memories, with the help of some of his relatives, we learn along with him. The main action of the book is the attempt by Corwin and his brother Bleys to defeat their brother Eric, to keep him from taking the throne. It seems the king, Oberon, has been whereabouts unknown for some time, although we have hints that he may not be dead.
The Guns of Avalon, Book 2, finds Corwin with a new plan to defeat Eric, which includes a trip to Avalon (a Shadow with the King Arthur characters) to secure ammunition for a weapon previously unknown in Amber. A new danger also appears: a black area with a black road, which seems to be present not only in Amber but also in all the Shadow earths. Out of this darkness come all kinds of strange creatures and demon-like humans, threatening all peoples in Amber and in its Shadow earths. If this concept sounds familiar, you may be thinking of Stephen King, who used it in several of his novels. And Zelazny came first. Coincidence?
Sign of the Unicorn, Book 3, concerns itself mainly with plots and counter-plots among the brothers and sisters of Amber. Some are killed, and nobody completely trusts anybody else. This family makes the Game of Thrones people look like amateurs at the art of intrigue. Some metaphysical elements begin to enter the story, culminating in a dramatic concluding scene.
The Hand of Oberon, Book 4, follows Corwin as he continues trying to unravel the tangled schemes of his siblings. One brother is murdered, another is rescued from a tower prison only to disappear again, and a long-lost son is found. The origins of Amber are disclosed and the cause and destination of the black road is discovered.
In The Courts of Chaos, Book 5, the Amber royals (with the exception of one) unite to fight the army of The Courts of Chaos, where the black road originates. At the same time, the one renegade Amberite has gone mad and is attempting to destroy the primal Pattern which allows Amber and its Shadows to exist. The action includes a l-o-n-g trip through surreal Shadows by Prince Corwin which sounds like an acid trip gone bad.
The individual books are all short (novellas, really) and easy to read, so that reading all five is no chore. If any are read, all should be read, in order to get the full story. After the first two, however, the plots and schemes of the characters become a bit tedious and contrived. This is somewhat enjoyable as escapist reading, but not nearly as well done as many others of the genre.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
Third reading, I think; first read when I was a teenager
Way back in 1860 Wilkie Collins wrote what most consider to be the first mystery novel, and it is also one of the best ever, providing an example which has been much copied but seldom matched. We have a mysterious woman dressed all in white who has apparently escaped from an insane asylum; a member of the British aristocracy with a secret that he will go to any lengths to keep; a beautiful young woman who is in peril; an intelligent young woman who is devoted to protecting the damsel in distress; a courageous man who loves the beautiful maiden; an eccentric uncle who provides some comic relief; and one of the best super-villains ever, who is interestingly portrayed as a study in contrasts.
The plot is intricate in the extreme and quite suspenseful. Collins originally published this in installments in a magazine, so periodically we have cliff hangers, much as in television serials today. Many skillful misdirections are included (today known as "red herrings") which lead readers to the wrong conclusions. In the end, it is all quite logical and all the mysteries are explained.
Many of the characters rival those of Charles Dickens in their believability and memorability, particularly the intelligent young woman (half-sister of the damsel in distress) and the villain.
The structure of the novel is interesting and clever, being accounts or diaries written by various of the characters. This allows to Collins to advance the story while revealing aspects of the characters' personalities through their own words.
All in all, I would say this is one of the best mysteries I have ever read. It is like combining Charles Dickens (who influenced Collins) with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (who was influenced by Collins).
Recommended for those who like mystery stories and who appreciate Victorian literature.
This section is kind of a postscript to my review. To my more modern mind, the beautiful maiden in the story is insipid, child-like, and not very intelligent. She can't seem to withstand any psychic stress at all, falling into insensibility at the slightest hint of trouble. The half-sister is portrayed as being intelligent, courageous, resourceful, and ugly. And who does the hero choose as his true love? Interestingly enough, the villain of the piece apparently falls for the ugly sister.
Somehow, it seems to me that Collins may have secretly shared my opinions about the relative value of the two sisters, while adhering to more popular expectations in his plot line. If I were a Ph.D. student, I would research a dissertation on this aspect.
Way back in 1860 Wilkie Collins wrote what most consider to be the first mystery novel, and it is also one of the best ever, providing an example which has been much copied but seldom matched. We have a mysterious woman dressed all in white who has apparently escaped from an insane asylum; a member of the British aristocracy with a secret that he will go to any lengths to keep; a beautiful young woman who is in peril; an intelligent young woman who is devoted to protecting the damsel in distress; a courageous man who loves the beautiful maiden; an eccentric uncle who provides some comic relief; and one of the best super-villains ever, who is interestingly portrayed as a study in contrasts.
The plot is intricate in the extreme and quite suspenseful. Collins originally published this in installments in a magazine, so periodically we have cliff hangers, much as in television serials today. Many skillful misdirections are included (today known as "red herrings") which lead readers to the wrong conclusions. In the end, it is all quite logical and all the mysteries are explained.
Many of the characters rival those of Charles Dickens in their believability and memorability, particularly the intelligent young woman (half-sister of the damsel in distress) and the villain.
The structure of the novel is interesting and clever, being accounts or diaries written by various of the characters. This allows to Collins to advance the story while revealing aspects of the characters' personalities through their own words.
All in all, I would say this is one of the best mysteries I have ever read. It is like combining Charles Dickens (who influenced Collins) with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (who was influenced by Collins).
Recommended for those who like mystery stories and who appreciate Victorian literature.
This section is kind of a postscript to my review. To my more modern mind, the beautiful maiden in the story is insipid, child-like, and not very intelligent. She can't seem to withstand any psychic stress at all, falling into insensibility at the slightest hint of trouble. The half-sister is portrayed as being intelligent, courageous, resourceful, and ugly. And who does the hero choose as his true love? Interestingly enough, the villain of the piece apparently falls for the ugly sister.
Somehow, it seems to me that Collins may have secretly shared my opinions about the relative value of the two sisters, while adhering to more popular expectations in his plot line. If I were a Ph.D. student, I would research a dissertation on this aspect.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Wise Children by Angela Carter
What a charming novel this is! It is full of humor that ranges from sly to broad, of fantastical and surrealistic happenings, of larger-than-life characters from the worlds of theater and film, and of multiple Shakespearean references and plot devices. The narrative voice, that of a delightfully lusty 75-year-old former song and dance girl, is perfect.
This is the story of Dora and Nora Chance (vaudeville stage name, the Lucky Chances), identical twin illegitimate daughters of Melchior Hazard, stage actor in the grand tradition of his own father, Ranulph Hazard, renowned Shakespearean actor. Melchior is also a twin, and his brother Peregrine assumes the (largely absent) father role for the twin girls. Melchior and his first wife also have twin daughters, as do Melchior and his third wife. And that's not even the last of the twins. Of course, sometimes the assumed fathers (and even mothers) may not be the strictly biological contributors.
Along with the rich plot and wonderful characters, we have implications about reality versus illusion and illegitimacy versus legitimacy (and not just as regarding paternity), along with a consideration of what really comprises a family.
The most fun part of the novel is the account of the filming in Hollywood in the lavish 1930s of a musical version of A Midsummer Night's Dream. This includes an interlude with an alcoholic writer of Irish ancestry who surely has to be patterned on F. Scott Fitzgerald. I am sure the other Hollywood characters portrayed also have real-life counterparts, which could be discerned by those more in the know about those things.
I'm also sure a more comprehensive knowledge of Shakespeare than I possess would lead to more references than I caught, and would make the novel even more enjoyable.
I loved this book because it seems to be a celebration of life, with all its messiness and its joys. I also highly recommend Carter's Nights at the Circus.
This is the story of Dora and Nora Chance (vaudeville stage name, the Lucky Chances), identical twin illegitimate daughters of Melchior Hazard, stage actor in the grand tradition of his own father, Ranulph Hazard, renowned Shakespearean actor. Melchior is also a twin, and his brother Peregrine assumes the (largely absent) father role for the twin girls. Melchior and his first wife also have twin daughters, as do Melchior and his third wife. And that's not even the last of the twins. Of course, sometimes the assumed fathers (and even mothers) may not be the strictly biological contributors.
Along with the rich plot and wonderful characters, we have implications about reality versus illusion and illegitimacy versus legitimacy (and not just as regarding paternity), along with a consideration of what really comprises a family.
The most fun part of the novel is the account of the filming in Hollywood in the lavish 1930s of a musical version of A Midsummer Night's Dream. This includes an interlude with an alcoholic writer of Irish ancestry who surely has to be patterned on F. Scott Fitzgerald. I am sure the other Hollywood characters portrayed also have real-life counterparts, which could be discerned by those more in the know about those things.
I'm also sure a more comprehensive knowledge of Shakespeare than I possess would lead to more references than I caught, and would make the novel even more enjoyable.
I loved this book because it seems to be a celebration of life, with all its messiness and its joys. I also highly recommend Carter's Nights at the Circus.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler
Second reading; first read back in the '80s, I think.
The cool thing about Raymond Chandler novels is that they can be just as fun to read the second time around as they were the first. The plots are so intricate and convoluted that the twists and turns fascinate, even if the end is known. And the dialogue is just as fresh and clever the second time around.
The mystery here begins with the hiring of private detective Philip Marlowe by a dying millionaire with two wayward daughters. What starts with a simple case of blackmail quickly escalates into multiple murders and an underworld of gambling, pornography, and narcotics. Along the way, Marlowe is enticed by not one, but three, seductresses, and faces down several armed adversaries, all the while maintaining his cool and his principles and staying one step ahead of the game. The ending is somewhat surprising but logical, with all the clues given beforehand.
The multifaceted character Philip Marlowe is subtly and admirably portrayed. He is cynical and sentimental, sympathetic and pragmatic, tough and tender. Just the kind of guy I would like to know if I ran into a spot of trouble.
The dialogue, as always with Chandler novels, makes me envious of Philip Marlowe in the extreme. I certainly wish that I could think of such splendid come-backs on the spur of the moment. Don't all of us wish we could?
For readers today, the plot is slightly dated, because pornography (what would now be considered as soft pornography) and drug use are not as scandalous as they once were. Also, the attitude portrayed here toward homosexuality is subtly derogatory. Still, the time this was written (1939) must be taken into consideration, and the novel could easily be translated into modern day crimes and attitudes and still be valid and believable.
One of the best of the best of the hard-boiled detective genre. Recommended.
The cool thing about Raymond Chandler novels is that they can be just as fun to read the second time around as they were the first. The plots are so intricate and convoluted that the twists and turns fascinate, even if the end is known. And the dialogue is just as fresh and clever the second time around.
The mystery here begins with the hiring of private detective Philip Marlowe by a dying millionaire with two wayward daughters. What starts with a simple case of blackmail quickly escalates into multiple murders and an underworld of gambling, pornography, and narcotics. Along the way, Marlowe is enticed by not one, but three, seductresses, and faces down several armed adversaries, all the while maintaining his cool and his principles and staying one step ahead of the game. The ending is somewhat surprising but logical, with all the clues given beforehand.
The multifaceted character Philip Marlowe is subtly and admirably portrayed. He is cynical and sentimental, sympathetic and pragmatic, tough and tender. Just the kind of guy I would like to know if I ran into a spot of trouble.
The dialogue, as always with Chandler novels, makes me envious of Philip Marlowe in the extreme. I certainly wish that I could think of such splendid come-backs on the spur of the moment. Don't all of us wish we could?
For readers today, the plot is slightly dated, because pornography (what would now be considered as soft pornography) and drug use are not as scandalous as they once were. Also, the attitude portrayed here toward homosexuality is subtly derogatory. Still, the time this was written (1939) must be taken into consideration, and the novel could easily be translated into modern day crimes and attitudes and still be valid and believable.
One of the best of the best of the hard-boiled detective genre. Recommended.
Monday, March 18, 2013
World of Wonders by Robertson Davies
Second reading; first read about 15 years ago
Book 3 of The Deptford Trilogy
For this final volume of the trilogy, Davies returns as a compelling storyteller after somewhat neglecting this aspect of his talent in the second volume. This is the life history of Paul Dempster, the son of the woman who was permanently injured by the snowball thrown by Boy Staunton in volume 1. As Paul reports it, he has essentially lived four lives--first, as an object of scorn in Deptford, the son of the women called "hoor" by the local bullies; second, as Cass Fletcher, after he is kidnapped by a sodomite who is a member of a carnival troupe and forced to become part of a magic act; third, as Mungo Fetch when he becomes the double for a famous actor and enters the world of the theater; fourth, as Magnus Eisengrim when he becomes a world-famous magician.
Of course, Davies imparts so much more than just as engrossing and inventive plot. The reader is left with many avenues for further thought, including considerations of the effects of viewpoint on any history of events and the inevitability of the consequences of all actions, even those which might seem trivial. Myth-making and Jungian psychology and religious philosophy also enter in.
And we find out who really killed Boy Staunton (maybe).
Volume 1 of this trilogy, Fifth Business, and this one work well as stand-alone novels, but I don't feel that the second book, The Manticore, would be well understood by itself. Ideally, all three should be read one after another, making for a most satisfactory reading experience.
Book 3 of The Deptford Trilogy
For this final volume of the trilogy, Davies returns as a compelling storyteller after somewhat neglecting this aspect of his talent in the second volume. This is the life history of Paul Dempster, the son of the woman who was permanently injured by the snowball thrown by Boy Staunton in volume 1. As Paul reports it, he has essentially lived four lives--first, as an object of scorn in Deptford, the son of the women called "hoor" by the local bullies; second, as Cass Fletcher, after he is kidnapped by a sodomite who is a member of a carnival troupe and forced to become part of a magic act; third, as Mungo Fetch when he becomes the double for a famous actor and enters the world of the theater; fourth, as Magnus Eisengrim when he becomes a world-famous magician.
Of course, Davies imparts so much more than just as engrossing and inventive plot. The reader is left with many avenues for further thought, including considerations of the effects of viewpoint on any history of events and the inevitability of the consequences of all actions, even those which might seem trivial. Myth-making and Jungian psychology and religious philosophy also enter in.
And we find out who really killed Boy Staunton (maybe).
Volume 1 of this trilogy, Fifth Business, and this one work well as stand-alone novels, but I don't feel that the second book, The Manticore, would be well understood by itself. Ideally, all three should be read one after another, making for a most satisfactory reading experience.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
The Manticore by Robertson Davies
Second reading; first read about 15 years ago
Book 2 of The Deptford Trilogy
I have read, I believe, eight of Robertson Davies' novels, and this is my least favorite, for several reasons. The first reason (and this is my fault, not Davies') is that a great deal of the interest of the novel depends on a reader having a considerable background of knowledge about the writings of Karl Jung, which I do not have, unfortunately. The second reason is that it repeats so many of the plot details of Fifth Business, the first book of the Deptford Trilogy, except that it's from a different viewpoint. It is intriguing to see how the same events can be interpreted differently by different people, but the tension of the story is necessarily absent for anyone who has read the first book. The third reason is ambiguous, even to me, but this novel does not seem as elegantly written as his other books.
Book 1 of the trilogy ended soon after the death of Boy Staunton, who was extremely rich and politically prominent, and who was murdered (or perhaps committed suicide). This one, Book 2, follows Boy's son, David Staunton, a highly successful criminal lawyer who is also an alcoholic, as he undergoes a year-long analysis with a Jungian psychiatrist following his father's death. A goodly part of the novel consists of the dialogue between patient and doctor as she guides him to an understanding of himself.
Davies very subtly allows David to reveal aspects of his history which are revealing to the reader without being fully discerned or consciously admitted to by him. Here Davies shows one of the greatest of his strengths as a writer--he gives the reader credit for some degree of understanding and never over-explains or pontificates.
This was written so that it could be read as a stand-alone book, and as such I do not think it would be fully understood by the average reader. As part 2 of one big book it works much better.
Book 2 of The Deptford Trilogy
I have read, I believe, eight of Robertson Davies' novels, and this is my least favorite, for several reasons. The first reason (and this is my fault, not Davies') is that a great deal of the interest of the novel depends on a reader having a considerable background of knowledge about the writings of Karl Jung, which I do not have, unfortunately. The second reason is that it repeats so many of the plot details of Fifth Business, the first book of the Deptford Trilogy, except that it's from a different viewpoint. It is intriguing to see how the same events can be interpreted differently by different people, but the tension of the story is necessarily absent for anyone who has read the first book. The third reason is ambiguous, even to me, but this novel does not seem as elegantly written as his other books.
Book 1 of the trilogy ended soon after the death of Boy Staunton, who was extremely rich and politically prominent, and who was murdered (or perhaps committed suicide). This one, Book 2, follows Boy's son, David Staunton, a highly successful criminal lawyer who is also an alcoholic, as he undergoes a year-long analysis with a Jungian psychiatrist following his father's death. A goodly part of the novel consists of the dialogue between patient and doctor as she guides him to an understanding of himself.
Davies very subtly allows David to reveal aspects of his history which are revealing to the reader without being fully discerned or consciously admitted to by him. Here Davies shows one of the greatest of his strengths as a writer--he gives the reader credit for some degree of understanding and never over-explains or pontificates.
This was written so that it could be read as a stand-alone book, and as such I do not think it would be fully understood by the average reader. As part 2 of one big book it works much better.
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