(hb; 1992)
From the inside flap:
"Dr. James Owen Mega, respected engineering professor turned sci-fi superstar 'Jay Omega,' and Dr. Marion Farley, respected English professor and self-confessed sci-fi fanatic (and Mega's significant other), are on their way to a most unusual science fiction convention: the reunion of the Lanthanides -- a group of fans from the 1950s who are gathering to open a time capsule they buried over thirty years ago.
"Now, in 1990, that time capsule is vitally important, for its real treasure is a collection of unpublished, never-seen-before short stories written by the then unknown Lanthanides, some of whom have gone on to become legends of the genre, while others languish in still-nerdy obscurity. The reunion also serves as a memorial to the late and not-so-lamented Lanthanide Pat Malone. That is, until Malone shows up with some very irreverent memories of the glorious past. With the love of scandal and the lack of diplomacy that were his trademarks, Malone reels off outrageous tales of times gone by, and disputes the authorship of certain works. Is this really Pat Malone? Soon the question becomes was he really Pat Malone, when the interloper is found murdered. Then it's up to Jay and Marion to discover the true identity of the dead man, and what secret the Lanthanides would kill to protect."
Review:
This science-fiction murder mystery spoof is just as funny as its predecessor, Bimbos of the Death Sun. Not only that, but McCrumb's writing is more slyly incisive and empathetic (towards its aging, disappointed characters) this second time around, making Zombies an even better read than Bimbos. (Not that Bimbos wasn't a gentle read; it's just that McCrumb seemed to be going more for laughs in the first book.)
Again, I pegged the killer long before s/he was revealed, but, again, the killer's identity wasn't all that important to me. It was the journey -- the empathetic, funny, relatable characters and story -- that mattered. The killer, in this case, was just window dressing.
I plan to own this book, I liked it so much. All spoofs should be this effective and meaningful.
Check this baby out!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
Bind, Torture, Kill, by Roy Wenzl, Tim Potter, L. Kelly, & Hurst Laviana
(hb; 2007: non-fiction)
From the inside flap:
"For thirty-one years, an unremarkable family man stalked, killed and terrorized the people of Wichita, Kansas. He was a devoted husband. A helpful Boy Scout dad. A reliable, conscientious employee. A dependable church president. And behind it all, the notorious serial killer BTK -- a self-anointed acronym for "bind, torture, kill."
"Now that he's in prison serving ten consecutive life sentences, the whole world knows that Dennis Rader is BTK. But the intricate twists and shocking turns of this story have never before been told by the people who were intimately acquainted with the BTK killer and Rader the family man, or the dedicated cops who finally caught him. Bind, Torture, Kill takes readers behind closed doors, revealing full and horrific tales as seen through the eyes of the killer, his victims, the investigators, and the reporters who covered it all."
Review:
Compelling, difficult-to-put-down read, this, shot through with dark ironies and coincidences that linked the players in this real-life drama. The authors, who write about themselves in a third-person manner, focus on the individuals and how they interacted. And how they caught BTK seems almost too easy: BTK was less clever, less interesting and luckier -- way luckier -- than anyone had previously imagined.
I picked this up at the library on a whim, and I'm glad I did. This is one of the best true crime books I've read in a long while, as intense as Robert Graysmith's Zodiac books.
Two movies about BTK/Rader exist.
BTK Killer came out in 2005. Directed and written by Ulli Lommel (that alone should serve as a BIG warning), it's a direct-to-video, shot-on-video-camera piece of s**t, with little or nothing to do with the actual BTK Killer.
The Hunt For BTK Killer, a TV movie, aired on CBS in October 2005. From what I've read, it's much better than Lommel's film. This film, directed by Stephen T. Kay, was based on Robert Beattie's non-fiction book, Nightmare in Wichita: The Hunt For the BTK Killer.
From the inside flap:
"For thirty-one years, an unremarkable family man stalked, killed and terrorized the people of Wichita, Kansas. He was a devoted husband. A helpful Boy Scout dad. A reliable, conscientious employee. A dependable church president. And behind it all, the notorious serial killer BTK -- a self-anointed acronym for "bind, torture, kill."
"Now that he's in prison serving ten consecutive life sentences, the whole world knows that Dennis Rader is BTK. But the intricate twists and shocking turns of this story have never before been told by the people who were intimately acquainted with the BTK killer and Rader the family man, or the dedicated cops who finally caught him. Bind, Torture, Kill takes readers behind closed doors, revealing full and horrific tales as seen through the eyes of the killer, his victims, the investigators, and the reporters who covered it all."
Review:
Compelling, difficult-to-put-down read, this, shot through with dark ironies and coincidences that linked the players in this real-life drama. The authors, who write about themselves in a third-person manner, focus on the individuals and how they interacted. And how they caught BTK seems almost too easy: BTK was less clever, less interesting and luckier -- way luckier -- than anyone had previously imagined.
I picked this up at the library on a whim, and I'm glad I did. This is one of the best true crime books I've read in a long while, as intense as Robert Graysmith's Zodiac books.
Two movies about BTK/Rader exist.
BTK Killer came out in 2005. Directed and written by Ulli Lommel (that alone should serve as a BIG warning), it's a direct-to-video, shot-on-video-camera piece of s**t, with little or nothing to do with the actual BTK Killer.
The Hunt For BTK Killer, a TV movie, aired on CBS in October 2005. From what I've read, it's much better than Lommel's film. This film, directed by Stephen T. Kay, was based on Robert Beattie's non-fiction book, Nightmare in Wichita: The Hunt For the BTK Killer.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Hell House by Richard Matheson
From the inside flap
"For over twenty years, Belasco House has stood empty. A venerable mansion with shadowed walls, it has witnessed scenes of almost unimaginable horror and depravity. Two previous expeditions to investigate met with complete disaster, as the participants were destroyed by murder, suicide or insanity.
"Now a new investigation has been mounted, bring four strangers to the ominous house. Each has their own reason for daring the unknown torments and temptations of the mansion, but can any soul survive what lurks within the most haunted house on Earth?"
Review
This is one of the most shivery haunted house novels I've ever read. Matheson's prose is, as usual, straightforward, with chilling, oozing and often sexual going-ons plaguing the four researchers who take up residence in the notorious abode. Philosophical, psychological, metaphysical, religious and sexual dialogue make up much of this fun, atmospheric read.
Wow-worthy twists also highlight Hell House, as do Matheson's fully-developed characters, whose neuroses decide what forms the hauntings, individual and collective, take.
One nit: near the end, the characters sum up what they think is troubling the mansion, based on what they've experienced. (Is it psychic manifestations, born of the living neuroses of those who enter the house? Is it Emeric Belasco, the Aleister Crowley-like previous owner of the house, whose body was never found? Or are there other ghosts in the mansion?)
These character summations are fine the first time around; but the characters restate their beliefs two, even three times, bogging down the action for a short (approximately twenty page) stretch.
That said, this is a landmark haunted house book, with an ending that's sad, light and ironic.
#
This was released stateside as a film, The Legend of Hell House, on June 15, 1973.
Pamela Franklin played Florence Tanner. Roddy McDowall played Benjamin Franklin Fischer. Clive Revill played Mr. (Lionel) Barrett. Gayle Hunnicutt played Ann Barrett.
John Hough directed, from a script by book author Matheson.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Bethlehem Road, by Anne Perry
(pb; 1990: tenth book in the Charlotte & Thomas Pitt series)
From the back cover:
"The gentleman tied to the lamppost on Westminster Bridge is most elegantly attired -- fresh boutonere, silk hat, white evening scarf -- and he is quite, quite dead, as a result of his thoroughly cut throat.
"Why should anyone kill Sir Lockwood Hamilton, that kindest of family men and most conscientious member of Parliament? Before Inspector Thomas Pitt can even speculate on the reasons, a colleague of Sir Lockwood's meets the same fate in the same spot.
"Public indignation is boundless, and clever Charlotte Pitt, Thomas's well-born wife, can't resist helping her hard-pressed husband, scouting society's drawing rooms for clues to these appalling crimes. Meanwhile, the Westminster Bridge Cutthroat stalks still another victim..."
Review:
One of the more unpredicable entries in the Pitt series, Bethlehem Road maintains the charm and intrigue of Perry's earlier books. It's not one of my favorites because it's feels different -- perhaps it's because Emily Ashworth, who's set to be married to Jack Radley (who first appeared in Cardington Crescent), isn't in the novel much, and she, like many of the other regular characters, has come to seem less like a book character and more like an old friend to me. Or maybe it's because I was afraid that Lady Vespasia Cumming-Gould, over eighty years old, was going to die this time out -- she's been ailing since Silence in Hanover Close, and I've grown quite fond of her character, also.
Anyhow, the killer -- or killers -- is/are not obvious, and the situation is increasingly political (Irish Home Rule and women's suffrage are angry buzzwords of the day, 1888), lending a "wild card" element to the plot.
The ending isn't one of the better ones in the series (though it doesn't quite fizzle out, either), which made this an average -- that is to say, well-written, as Perry's work rarely disappoints -- Victoriana excursion.
Worth checking out, this.
Followed by Highgate Rise.
From the back cover:
"The gentleman tied to the lamppost on Westminster Bridge is most elegantly attired -- fresh boutonere, silk hat, white evening scarf -- and he is quite, quite dead, as a result of his thoroughly cut throat.
"Why should anyone kill Sir Lockwood Hamilton, that kindest of family men and most conscientious member of Parliament? Before Inspector Thomas Pitt can even speculate on the reasons, a colleague of Sir Lockwood's meets the same fate in the same spot.
"Public indignation is boundless, and clever Charlotte Pitt, Thomas's well-born wife, can't resist helping her hard-pressed husband, scouting society's drawing rooms for clues to these appalling crimes. Meanwhile, the Westminster Bridge Cutthroat stalks still another victim..."
Review:
One of the more unpredicable entries in the Pitt series, Bethlehem Road maintains the charm and intrigue of Perry's earlier books. It's not one of my favorites because it's feels different -- perhaps it's because Emily Ashworth, who's set to be married to Jack Radley (who first appeared in Cardington Crescent), isn't in the novel much, and she, like many of the other regular characters, has come to seem less like a book character and more like an old friend to me. Or maybe it's because I was afraid that Lady Vespasia Cumming-Gould, over eighty years old, was going to die this time out -- she's been ailing since Silence in Hanover Close, and I've grown quite fond of her character, also.
Anyhow, the killer -- or killers -- is/are not obvious, and the situation is increasingly political (Irish Home Rule and women's suffrage are angry buzzwords of the day, 1888), lending a "wild card" element to the plot.
The ending isn't one of the better ones in the series (though it doesn't quite fizzle out, either), which made this an average -- that is to say, well-written, as Perry's work rarely disappoints -- Victoriana excursion.
Worth checking out, this.
Followed by Highgate Rise.
Monday, August 13, 2007
The Totem, by David Morrell
(pb; 1979)
From the back cover:
"Potters Field, Wyoming.
"A small Western town like hundreds of others. Even the incidents that started that midsummer's night seemed routine.
"The dead hitchhiker, victim of a hit-and-run. The coroner's heart attack. The drunk, dead in the culvert, his face destroyed. Slowly the routine began to twist into unexplainable horror. And slowly, under the searchlight rays of the too full moon it walked..."
Review:
All horror novels should be this extraordinary. It's terse, bloodcurdling and lean (nary a wasted word in this work), with characters that you actually root for (or curse).
The story's predictable -- up to a point -- but most of the characters, especially Nathan Slaughter (sheriff of Potter's Field), Gordon Dunlap (a once-great reporter who's fallen on hard times, and Slaughter's friend), and Accum (an emotionally detached coroner) make the novel's semi-predictability a moot point. As does the graceful denouement, which, tone-wise, matches the interactions between the aforementioned characters.
As a horror novel, The Totem puts a new spin on certain elements, which could've been cliches -- a haunted mansion, creepy mountains, a long-gone hippie cult that met a grisly end (or did it?), a virulent madness that's threatening to literally rend the townspeople. Morrell's breakneck-paced, spot-on writing kept it fresh; I knew Morrell was an excellent action writer, but I wasn't sure about his horror stuff, prior to reading this.
Now I am -- I can't wait to read his other horror outings.
Meaningful (without being annoyingly so), effective terror work, this: highly recommended for even the pickiest of horror fans.
From the back cover:
"Potters Field, Wyoming.
"A small Western town like hundreds of others. Even the incidents that started that midsummer's night seemed routine.
"The dead hitchhiker, victim of a hit-and-run. The coroner's heart attack. The drunk, dead in the culvert, his face destroyed. Slowly the routine began to twist into unexplainable horror. And slowly, under the searchlight rays of the too full moon it walked..."
Review:
All horror novels should be this extraordinary. It's terse, bloodcurdling and lean (nary a wasted word in this work), with characters that you actually root for (or curse).
The story's predictable -- up to a point -- but most of the characters, especially Nathan Slaughter (sheriff of Potter's Field), Gordon Dunlap (a once-great reporter who's fallen on hard times, and Slaughter's friend), and Accum (an emotionally detached coroner) make the novel's semi-predictability a moot point. As does the graceful denouement, which, tone-wise, matches the interactions between the aforementioned characters.
As a horror novel, The Totem puts a new spin on certain elements, which could've been cliches -- a haunted mansion, creepy mountains, a long-gone hippie cult that met a grisly end (or did it?), a virulent madness that's threatening to literally rend the townspeople. Morrell's breakneck-paced, spot-on writing kept it fresh; I knew Morrell was an excellent action writer, but I wasn't sure about his horror stuff, prior to reading this.
Now I am -- I can't wait to read his other horror outings.
Meaningful (without being annoyingly so), effective terror work, this: highly recommended for even the pickiest of horror fans.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows, by J.K. Rowling
(hb; 2007)
First, the plot: Harry, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger seek the remainder of the seven Horcruxes -- the physically manifested pieces of Voldermort's soul, separated and hidden by Voldemort, so as to keep them safe -- so that they might destroy them, and, along with them, Voldemort.
Meanwhile, Voldemort has quietly taken over everything. Pius Thicknesse, one of his minions, runs the Ministry of Magic; the media is monitored and manipulated by Voldemort's forces; Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore's murderer, is Head Wizard of Hogwarts; Muggles (aka, Mudbloods) are being killed by Voldemort's wizards, via what Muggles call "accidents".
Now for the review.
It's a wonderful read. The middle section lags, when Harry, Ron & Hermione, lost, squabbling and seemingly directionless, seek the Horcruxes, even as Voldemort's Death Eaters hound them.
The writing, overall, is excellent, if a bit loquacious at times, as it consistently has been since the fourth book (Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire). The Battle of Hogwarts is appropriately cataclysmic and rousing (especially when Mrs. Weasley comes to the aid of her daughter, Ginny, who's being menaced by Bellatrix Lestrange -- wow, talk about fierce).
The body count, like the denouement, isn't shocking; nor is it too predictable. Rowling has sewed up the Harry Potter saga in a satisfying, character-true manner, with little, if any, room left for more (worthwhile) sequels.
By all means, check it out.
First, the plot: Harry, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger seek the remainder of the seven Horcruxes -- the physically manifested pieces of Voldermort's soul, separated and hidden by Voldemort, so as to keep them safe -- so that they might destroy them, and, along with them, Voldemort.
Meanwhile, Voldemort has quietly taken over everything. Pius Thicknesse, one of his minions, runs the Ministry of Magic; the media is monitored and manipulated by Voldemort's forces; Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore's murderer, is Head Wizard of Hogwarts; Muggles (aka, Mudbloods) are being killed by Voldemort's wizards, via what Muggles call "accidents".
Now for the review.
It's a wonderful read. The middle section lags, when Harry, Ron & Hermione, lost, squabbling and seemingly directionless, seek the Horcruxes, even as Voldemort's Death Eaters hound them.
The writing, overall, is excellent, if a bit loquacious at times, as it consistently has been since the fourth book (Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire). The Battle of Hogwarts is appropriately cataclysmic and rousing (especially when Mrs. Weasley comes to the aid of her daughter, Ginny, who's being menaced by Bellatrix Lestrange -- wow, talk about fierce).
The body count, like the denouement, isn't shocking; nor is it too predictable. Rowling has sewed up the Harry Potter saga in a satisfying, character-true manner, with little, if any, room left for more (worthwhile) sequels.
By all means, check it out.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Killer in Drag, by Ed Wood, Jr.
(pb; 1965: prequel to Death of a Transvestite)
From the back cover:
"Impeccably attired in either gender, assassin-for-hire Glenn becomes Glenda when it's time for the dirty work. But Glendea wants out of the murder racket. She hightails it with the cops and the mob on her trail.
"Donning dapper menswear or slipping into stilettos and angora sweaters, Glen/Glenda falls in with hopped-up carnies, slinky prostitutes, and local-yokel sheriffs. But little does Glenda known that a red-haired dressed-to-killer -- with lips and nails to match -- is tracking her. The mob figures it takes one to know one..."
Review:
Wood's tale about a cross-dressing hitman is sleazy and ultra-noiresque, his prose trenchant and tautly wrought (with Wood's trademark, occasional kitschy asides resinating the sordid mix). Anyone expecting the supposed awfulness of Wood's cinematic ouevre will probably be disappointed to discover that Wood was actually a good writer, when his imagination was not compromised by budgetary constraints.
This isn't the best noir novel I've read, but it's one of the kitschiest (in a good way), and its tough-as-a-PMSing-motorcycle-dyke prose rings true.
Great shadowy read, this, with a semi-cliffhanger finish that provides an explicit lead-in to its follow-up novel, Death of a Transvestite.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Reflections in a Golden Eye, by Carson McCullers
(hb; 1941)
From the inside flap:
"... the story advances through the tangle of the emotional life of a Southern army post. The characters are strong and varied. Each is met in a revelatory moment: a captain safe only in impersonality; his golden, cruel wife; and a private mutely in love with her, watching the moonlight on her face as she sleeps, unaware of his presence."
Review:
The plot: An army Captain (cuckolded kleptomaniac Weldon Penderton), his wife ("feeble-minded" sensual Lenora), and their neighbors (Major Morris Langdon, Lenora's lover, and his sickly wife, Alison) are living in the social fishbowl of a military outpost, when a possibly-psychotic intensely-Xian Private L.G. Williams begins to stalk Lenora. In doing so, he helps bring about events that will ultimately shatter the fragile social structure that defines and restricts them all.
Bizarre, compact study of perversity, pettiness and antiseptic-toned cruelty, this: this is one of the most unique novels I've ever read; stylistically, it's incredibly different than McCullers's earlier novel, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, which was a warm, rambly affair. It's difficult to believe that these tone- and theme-divergent novels sprang from the same mind.
This is also one of the most unsettling books I've read in a long while. Its brutality lies in taut-threatening-to-snap smiles, hissed comments and sudden, shocking acts of aggression.
The violent ending is flat and uninspired, after the creative displays of intimate cruelties that precede it. That said, Reflections in a Golden Eye a literary masterpiece, albeit a disturbing one.
Reflection in a Golden Eye, the film, was released stateside on October 13, 1967. Elizabeth Taylor played Lenora Penderton. Marlon Brando played Major Weldon Penderton. Brian Keith played Lt. Col. Morris Langdon. Julie Harris played Alison Langdon. Robert Forster played Pvt. L.G. Williams.
John Huston directed, from a script by Gladys Hill and Chapman Mortimer.
From the inside flap:
"... the story advances through the tangle of the emotional life of a Southern army post. The characters are strong and varied. Each is met in a revelatory moment: a captain safe only in impersonality; his golden, cruel wife; and a private mutely in love with her, watching the moonlight on her face as she sleeps, unaware of his presence."
Review:
The plot: An army Captain (cuckolded kleptomaniac Weldon Penderton), his wife ("feeble-minded" sensual Lenora), and their neighbors (Major Morris Langdon, Lenora's lover, and his sickly wife, Alison) are living in the social fishbowl of a military outpost, when a possibly-psychotic intensely-Xian Private L.G. Williams begins to stalk Lenora. In doing so, he helps bring about events that will ultimately shatter the fragile social structure that defines and restricts them all.
Bizarre, compact study of perversity, pettiness and antiseptic-toned cruelty, this: this is one of the most unique novels I've ever read; stylistically, it's incredibly different than McCullers's earlier novel, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, which was a warm, rambly affair. It's difficult to believe that these tone- and theme-divergent novels sprang from the same mind.
This is also one of the most unsettling books I've read in a long while. Its brutality lies in taut-threatening-to-snap smiles, hissed comments and sudden, shocking acts of aggression.
The violent ending is flat and uninspired, after the creative displays of intimate cruelties that precede it. That said, Reflections in a Golden Eye a literary masterpiece, albeit a disturbing one.
Reflection in a Golden Eye, the film, was released stateside on October 13, 1967. Elizabeth Taylor played Lenora Penderton. Marlon Brando played Major Weldon Penderton. Brian Keith played Lt. Col. Morris Langdon. Julie Harris played Alison Langdon. Robert Forster played Pvt. L.G. Williams.
John Huston directed, from a script by Gladys Hill and Chapman Mortimer.
Offspring, by Jack Ketchum
(pb; 1991)
From the back cover:
"The local sheriff of Dead River, Maine, thought he'd killed the them off ten years ago -- a primitive, cave-dwelling tribe of predatory savages. But somehow, the clan survived. To breed. To hunt. To kill and eat. Now the peaceful residents, who came to Dead River to escape civilization, are fighting for their lives. And there's only one way to do it:
"Unleash the primal savagery lurking in their own hearts."
Review:
Warning: spoilers in this review.
Offspring is a well-written but unnecessary sequel to the memorably brutal Off Season.
Why is it unnecessary? For two reasons: at the end of Off Season, it was strongly implied that all the savages were fatally dispatched; secondly, while Ketchum has concocted a lean, believable and pulse-racing sequel with hiss-worthy villains (particularly Steven, a murdering sociopath), characters worth rooting for, and a few unforgettably terrifying scenes, the tone of Offspring feels lighter, like a PG-13-rated sequel to a grisly NC-17 horror flick.
The fact that Ketchum pulled a Hollyweird plot-cheat is a minor nit, though. Offspring is a good (not great) retread read, heads above many so-called "horror" novels.
Worth checking out, if you don't expect much.
From the back cover:
"The local sheriff of Dead River, Maine, thought he'd killed the them off ten years ago -- a primitive, cave-dwelling tribe of predatory savages. But somehow, the clan survived. To breed. To hunt. To kill and eat. Now the peaceful residents, who came to Dead River to escape civilization, are fighting for their lives. And there's only one way to do it:
"Unleash the primal savagery lurking in their own hearts."
Review:
Warning: spoilers in this review.
Offspring is a well-written but unnecessary sequel to the memorably brutal Off Season.
Why is it unnecessary? For two reasons: at the end of Off Season, it was strongly implied that all the savages were fatally dispatched; secondly, while Ketchum has concocted a lean, believable and pulse-racing sequel with hiss-worthy villains (particularly Steven, a murdering sociopath), characters worth rooting for, and a few unforgettably terrifying scenes, the tone of Offspring feels lighter, like a PG-13-rated sequel to a grisly NC-17 horror flick.
The fact that Ketchum pulled a Hollyweird plot-cheat is a minor nit, though. Offspring is a good (not great) retread read, heads above many so-called "horror" novels.
Worth checking out, if you don't expect much.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
The Blood of Flowers, by Anita Amirrezvani
(hb; 2007)
From the inside flap:
"In Persia, in the seventeenth century, a young woman is forced to leave behind the life she knows and move to a new city. Her father's unexpected death has upended everything -- her expectation of marriage, her plans for the future -- and cast her and her mother upon the mercy of relatives in the fabled city of Isfahan.
"Her uncle is a wealthy designer of carpets for the Shah's court, and the young woman is instantly drawn to his workshop. She takes in everything -- the dyes, the yarns, the meanings of the thousand ancient patterns -- and quickly begins designing carpets herself. This is men's work, but her uncle recognizes both her passion and her talent and allows her secretly to cross that line.
"But then a single disastrous, headstrong act threatens her very existence and casts her and her mother into an even more desperate situation. She is forced into an untenable form of marriage, a marriage contract renewable monthly, for a fee, to a wealthy businessman. Caught between forces she can barely comprehend, she knows only that she must act on her own, risking everything, or a face a life lived at the whim of others..."
Review:
Exotic, romantic and expeditiously written, there are few surprising twists, but Amirrezvani's assured narrative flow still bedazzles, like the colors and designs of the carpets that so enthrall her unnamed protagonist. It's a pleasure to watch her heroine mature into an artisan -- and a woman -- of the noblest sort: not only that, but The Blood of Flowers is an inspirational, fascinating glimpse into a different culture at what was a pivotal historical period for Iran (then called Persia).
Check it out.
From the inside flap:
"In Persia, in the seventeenth century, a young woman is forced to leave behind the life she knows and move to a new city. Her father's unexpected death has upended everything -- her expectation of marriage, her plans for the future -- and cast her and her mother upon the mercy of relatives in the fabled city of Isfahan.
"Her uncle is a wealthy designer of carpets for the Shah's court, and the young woman is instantly drawn to his workshop. She takes in everything -- the dyes, the yarns, the meanings of the thousand ancient patterns -- and quickly begins designing carpets herself. This is men's work, but her uncle recognizes both her passion and her talent and allows her secretly to cross that line.
"But then a single disastrous, headstrong act threatens her very existence and casts her and her mother into an even more desperate situation. She is forced into an untenable form of marriage, a marriage contract renewable monthly, for a fee, to a wealthy businessman. Caught between forces she can barely comprehend, she knows only that she must act on her own, risking everything, or a face a life lived at the whim of others..."
Review:
Exotic, romantic and expeditiously written, there are few surprising twists, but Amirrezvani's assured narrative flow still bedazzles, like the colors and designs of the carpets that so enthrall her unnamed protagonist. It's a pleasure to watch her heroine mature into an artisan -- and a woman -- of the noblest sort: not only that, but The Blood of Flowers is an inspirational, fascinating glimpse into a different culture at what was a pivotal historical period for Iran (then called Persia).
Check it out.
2018 A.D., by Samuel J. Lundwall
(pb; 1975)
From the back cover:
"They needed the first girl born in the first minute of the first day of the first year of the Twenty-first Century. They needed her for an ad campaign that would put millions into the accounts of the giant conglomerate that owned it, and rom there into an unpublicized holding company that controlled that, and thence into the secret Swiss bank account that directed the holding company, and from there to the numbered box that ran the account, and from there to -- nobody knew, not even the Swiss bankers. But though the life of everyone in the world was supposed to be taped on computerized credit records down to the smallest detail, hers was not. They knew her name, and that was all.
"When this book was published in Sweden it became a controversial but immediate bestseller -- it was too uncomfortably prophetic to be just satirical science fiction. Its musical accompaniment, entitled King Kong Blues, became a top hit record -- a rock-beat for the next century. What Brave New World meant for the Thirties, what 1984 meant for the Forties, what A Clockwork Orange meant for the Sixties, 2018 A.D. means for the Seventies."
Review:
This chilling, hilarious and dystopian novel could almost be describing the world today. Public schools are "run by private companies working on 'performance contracts'." Cameras monitor citizens everywhere. Reality must-see snuff TV rules the dumbing-down boxes. Water, corporate-owned, is in man-made shortage. Pensioner "gangs" -- old men desperate for money to survive -- run amok in the streets, assaulting law-abiding citizens. The Mafia quietly runs a media-trumpeted "slum" (actually a den of vice) called Squatter City, where those desperate to escape detection and monitoring flee.
It's in this tableau that Erik Lenning, a married ad man who's secretly into BDSM, tracks down Anniki Norijn, a mysterious twenty-something actress and sometimes escort. Other characters, succinctly portrayed, populate Lundwall's vision as well: Leonard J. Kockenbergh Jr. (Lenning's boss); Tim Eulenspiegel (a City South slumlord who's also one of Anniki's tricks). And, more importantly, Sheik Yarasin ar-Rechehidd, a Saudi who's the "true [finanical and political] master of the world," and is making startling business decisions that just might bring everything down (e.g., moving the European and American auto industries into Siberia).
There are so many classic lines in this milestone novel that I don't even know where to begin (on that count). Simply put, this is heady stuff, well worth your time and money.
Lundwall includes a bibliography of then-current news articles that inspired 2018 A.D. (I love it when authors do that), that add to the eerie reality of the work.
From the back cover:
"They needed the first girl born in the first minute of the first day of the first year of the Twenty-first Century. They needed her for an ad campaign that would put millions into the accounts of the giant conglomerate that owned it, and rom there into an unpublicized holding company that controlled that, and thence into the secret Swiss bank account that directed the holding company, and from there to the numbered box that ran the account, and from there to -- nobody knew, not even the Swiss bankers. But though the life of everyone in the world was supposed to be taped on computerized credit records down to the smallest detail, hers was not. They knew her name, and that was all.
"When this book was published in Sweden it became a controversial but immediate bestseller -- it was too uncomfortably prophetic to be just satirical science fiction. Its musical accompaniment, entitled King Kong Blues, became a top hit record -- a rock-beat for the next century. What Brave New World meant for the Thirties, what 1984 meant for the Forties, what A Clockwork Orange meant for the Sixties, 2018 A.D. means for the Seventies."
Review:
This chilling, hilarious and dystopian novel could almost be describing the world today. Public schools are "run by private companies working on 'performance contracts'." Cameras monitor citizens everywhere. Reality must-see snuff TV rules the dumbing-down boxes. Water, corporate-owned, is in man-made shortage. Pensioner "gangs" -- old men desperate for money to survive -- run amok in the streets, assaulting law-abiding citizens. The Mafia quietly runs a media-trumpeted "slum" (actually a den of vice) called Squatter City, where those desperate to escape detection and monitoring flee.
It's in this tableau that Erik Lenning, a married ad man who's secretly into BDSM, tracks down Anniki Norijn, a mysterious twenty-something actress and sometimes escort. Other characters, succinctly portrayed, populate Lundwall's vision as well: Leonard J. Kockenbergh Jr. (Lenning's boss); Tim Eulenspiegel (a City South slumlord who's also one of Anniki's tricks). And, more importantly, Sheik Yarasin ar-Rechehidd, a Saudi who's the "true [finanical and political] master of the world," and is making startling business decisions that just might bring everything down (e.g., moving the European and American auto industries into Siberia).
There are so many classic lines in this milestone novel that I don't even know where to begin (on that count). Simply put, this is heady stuff, well worth your time and money.
Lundwall includes a bibliography of then-current news articles that inspired 2018 A.D. (I love it when authors do that), that add to the eerie reality of the work.
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