Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Review: Black Ships by Jo Graham


Cover of Jo Graham's Black ShipsFunny thing: I don't read reviews of books I'm considering for review. I don't want my opinion tainted. Instead I read them after I write my own review. So while I had seen Jo Graham's Black Ships on a number of blogs to which I subscribe, I had no idea what it was about when I bought it this week. Since so many bloggers will only post reviews of books they like, I felt fairly confident.

As it turns out, Black Ships is another retelling of Virgil's Aeneid. Unfortunately, Black Ships suffered in comparison to Ursula K. LeGuin's Aeneid-based Lavinia, which as you may recall I declared to be a perfect book.

The comparison, however, is unfair for many reasons (not the least of which is that Graham is a debut author while LeGuin is a master of her craft). In addition, while both authors have written well-researched books based on the Aeneid with a strong women's voices and lyrical prose, LeGuin and Graham have different foci.

 LeGuin's Lavinia functioned as an oracle but really had a meta-fictional relationship with Virgil. Graham's protagonist Gull really is an oracle of Persephone, the Lady of the Dead. LeGuin focuses on the geopolitics and society of the Italian peninsula at the time Aeneas may have landed there. Graham retells the Aeneid in the context of archeological and historical scholarship of the Trojan War and the Mediterranean geopolitics of 1200 BCE. She gives the reasons for the changes she makes in the Author's Note and interview at the back of the book.

She also includes more mythology and a possible explanation for the differences between Greek and Roman mythology. Personally, I love mythology. I read Edith Hamilton's Mythology for the first time in sixth grade. I think I have three copies. Fiction is also my favorite way to learn history.

So, while I found Lavinia to be more satisfying as a work of art than Black Ships, I also found Black Ships satisfying for the aforementioned reasons. But don't think that Jo Graham is not also an artist. The three main characters—Gull, Aeneas, and Xandros—are complex and finely drawn. None of the other characters blend together. The narrative flow is, well, flowing and lyrical. The tone is dreamlike and other-worldly. (Graham writes that the tone of the book and Gull's voice are inspired by Enya's "Book of Days.") Altogether, Black Ships is a beautiful book.

Was reading this book worth my time?
If you can't tell already, the answer is yes, Black Ships was worth my time and money. I couldn't help compare it to Lavinia. Sorry. Links to more "traditional" blog reviews are available through the Google Book Blogs Search Engine. (Clicking on the link will lead you to the results page.) Jo Graham's new book, Hand of Isis, is now available. I'm looking forward to reading it. It focuses on three sisters, includes more mythology, and has nothing to do with Virgil.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Review: The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell


The Cover of The Sparrow2019—Japan has replaced the USA as the principle global power and has mining operations in space. Poverty is rampant. People search the ghettos in search of youth with promise and make them into indentured servants. The SETI project has finally discovered sentient life near Alpha Centuri.

2060—Emilio Sandoz of the Society of Jesus is the only surviving member of the secret Jesuit funded mission to the planet Rakhat. He returned maimed in body and spirit under allegations of murder and prostitution and is facing an inquisition.

The Sparrow, Mary Doria Russell's first novel, asks if intelligent, educated, empathetic modern men and women would succeed any better at first contact than the Europeans has with the Americas and Asia. In Russell's words, it also explores "the risks and beauties of religion" and how people make their own non-genetic families.

Russell alternates between two story lines. She tells the story of how a group of extraordinary people come together around  Anna and George to become Emilio Sandoz's family. This unique group includes a Jew, a couple agnostics, a not-so-practicing Catholic, and some Jesuit priests. She also tells the story of the battered Emilio's inquisition and healing. What actually happened on Rakhat is mixed between the two story lines.

The effect of this narrative split is suspense, incredible suspense. You also get to read how the characters reacted to events and people as it happened and how Emilio, with hindsight, explains the misunderstandings and misinterpretations which led to the tragedies. Emilio is a central character and a large portion of the story is his relationship with God.

Through Emilio and the other characters, Russell puts what C.S. Lewis calls the "problem of pain" in the reader's face. She does it without any pithy apologetic. Characters struggle to know God or if there is a god. They ask, "Why does God get all the credit when good things happen but none of the blame when bad things happen?" So you know, Russell is not a Christian. She just argues for the importance of asking such questions.

In both story lines, all the characters have strong, well-drawn personalities. They don't get blurred in the reader's mind at all. As for the planet Rakhat, it is fully fleshed out with a complex social system based on evolutionary biology and pulled from Russell's background as a paleoanthropologist.

Was reading this book worth my time?
Oh my God, yes! Science fiction is full of stories about first contact, but The Sparrow is absolutely unique. For one, it is told with a literary structure uncommon in science fiction. I've also never seen faith explored in science fiction with such respect and honesty. Russell truly wants her readers to ask questions; she doesn't provide answers. Usually when faith and religion are explored in science fiction, they are explored with a more pedantic agenda.

Friday, November 27, 2009

Friday Firsts: "The Book Thief" by Jennifer Greylyn


Opening Passages

The Short Story: "The Book Thief"
The Author: Jennifer Greylyn
The First Paragraph(s):
The last thing I remember is opening the book.

            You would think I’d remember more than that. The first line. The first word even. But it isn’t that kind of book. You don’t notice what it says. Only that it pulls you in and takes you away from yourself. Like a dream you can’t resist. A dream you can’t quite wake up from.

            Not long ago, I thought it was a sign from God. It didn’t turn out like I expected, though, which just goes to show I don’t understand stories.

            But this is no way to begin, if you are hearing me. Considering where I am, I should be able to do better. Let me try again.


The hook comes in the first two paragraphs. We're all bookers, you and I. How can we resist a story called "The Book Thief"? Then we read about a book that "pulls you in and takes you away from yourself." That sounds like a good thing right? But where is our narrator? What didn't turn out as expected? There is our conflict in the second two paragraphs. You'll be surprised at how this story turns out if you decide to read "The Book Thief" at Beneath Ceaseless Skies. Do. Please? I wouldn't post the beginning of a crappy story. Think magic.

"Opening Passages" is my version of "Friday Firsts" hosted at Well Read Reviews.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

FreeVerse: "100 Words" by Neil Gaiman


I found this poem through Neil Gaiman's Journal. Jim Lee has illustrated it prints of the illustrated version below are on sale at Neil Gaiman's NeverWear. (click to see larger image)

100 Words by Neil Gaiman illustrated by Jim Lee

"100 Words" by Neil Gaiman
A hundred words to talk of death?
At once too much and not enough.
My plans beyond that final breath
are currently a little rough.

The dying thing comes on so slow:
reluctance to get out of bed
is magnified each day and so
transmuted into dead.

I dream of dying all alone,
nobody there to watch me pass
nothing remains for me to own,
no breath remains to fog the glass.

And when I do put down my pen
my memories will fly like birds.
When I am done, when I am dead,
and finished with my hundred words.


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