Nice retro piece of SF Space Race nostalgia. The description of getting into, and out of, a Ye Olde spacesuit is surprisingly nerve-wracking. So much Nice retro piece of SF Space Race nostalgia. The description of getting into, and out of, a Ye Olde spacesuit is surprisingly nerve-wracking. So much for the Star Trek onesies.
Merged review:
Nice retro piece of SF Space Race nostalgia. The description of getting into, and out of, a Ye Olde spacesuit is surprisingly nerve-wracking. So much for the Star Trek onesies....more
Wow, another stellar tor.com novella by the author of Autonomous. Subtle, character-driven world-building in a brief tale that immerses you in its strWow, another stellar tor.com novella by the author of Autonomous. Subtle, character-driven world-building in a brief tale that immerses you in its strangeness and sexiness. Wonderful.
Merged review:
Wow, another stellar tor.com novella by the author of Autonomous. Subtle, character-driven world-building in a brief tale that immerses you in its strangeness and sexiness. Wonderful....more
If you like short-form genre fiction, tor.com now has a fantastic option whereupon you can subscribe and receive a bimonthly ebook containing everythiIf you like short-form genre fiction, tor.com now has a fantastic option whereupon you can subscribe and receive a bimonthly ebook containing everything published on its website for that period. The website has quickly established itself as a leading publisher of genre fiction that pushes boundaries, and which also gives up-and-coming writers a fantastic platform to reach a wider audience. I looked for this compilation on Goodreads, but I see that all of the tor.com novellas are listed as standalone titles. Ah well, at least that is going to boost my reading target … I love the fact that SF/fantasy still actively promotes short-form fiction, to the extent that if you want a good barometer of the state of these genres, you just have to read Lightspeed, Asimov’s, and tor.com, among others. ‘The Book of El’ by John Chu continues in the vein of excellence that has distinguished the tor.com line-up for so long: delicate, bittersweet, with just a hint of otherworldliness, and such a deft grasp of those quotidian details that make characters pop off the page.
Merged review:
If you like short-form genre fiction, tor.com now has a fantastic option whereupon you can subscribe and receive a bimonthly ebook containing everything published on its website for that period. The website has quickly established itself as a leading publisher of genre fiction that pushes boundaries, and which also gives up-and-coming writers a fantastic platform to reach a wider audience. I looked for this compilation on Goodreads, but I see that all of the tor.com novellas are listed as standalone titles. Ah well, at least that is going to boost my reading target … I love the fact that SF/fantasy still actively promotes short-form fiction, to the extent that if you want a good barometer of the state of these genres, you just have to read Lightspeed, Asimov’s, and tor.com, among others. ‘The Book of El’ by John Chu continues in the vein of excellence that has distinguished the tor.com line-up for so long: delicate, bittersweet, with just a hint of otherworldliness, and such a deft grasp of those quotidian details that make characters pop off the page....more
The second story in the tor.com Jan-Feb ebook collection. It takes a particular kind of chutzpah for a writer to turn a common-day occurrence like somThe second story in the tor.com Jan-Feb ebook collection. It takes a particular kind of chutzpah for a writer to turn a common-day occurrence like someone dying from cancer into the subject matter of a speculative piece.
There is perhaps nothing less speculative than a lingering death from an aggressive form of cancer. A friend of mine’s mother has Stage 4 cancer, so when I began reading this, I almost stopped, as it was too close to home.
But then I thought: what is the purpose of fiction if not to take the ephemeral thread of both life and death, and to weave it into the magic of Story, so that we may live forever in each other’s thoughts and memories?
At first glance, the idea of an alien host that metastasises with its human host, in order to create a symbiont that guarantees extended life for both, appears appallingly horrific. Bear applies surgical precision to this idea to pick out the repercussions and consequences, some obvious, others banal, others shattering in their transgressive redefinition of love and grief, in a complex story about the nature of relationships.
Another hugely impressive entry in the tor.com fiction line-up, which seems to raise the bar with everything it publishes.
Merged review:
The second story in the tor.com Jan-Feb ebook collection. It takes a particular kind of chutzpah for a writer to turn a common-day occurrence like someone dying from cancer into the subject matter of a speculative piece.
There is perhaps nothing less speculative than a lingering death from an aggressive form of cancer. A friend of mine’s mother has Stage 4 cancer, so when I began reading this, I almost stopped, as it was too close to home.
But then I thought: what is the purpose of fiction if not to take the ephemeral thread of both life and death, and to weave it into the magic of Story, so that we may live forever in each other’s thoughts and memories?
At first glance, the idea of an alien host that metastasises with its human host, in order to create a symbiont that guarantees extended life for both, appears appallingly horrific. Bear applies surgical precision to this idea to pick out the repercussions and consequences, some obvious, others banal, others shattering in their transgressive redefinition of love and grief, in a complex story about the nature of relationships.
Another hugely impressive entry in the tor.com fiction line-up, which seems to raise the bar with everything it publishes....more
What a wonderful surprise this book turned out to be. I have never read Steven Erikson before, and was blissfully unaware of his credentials in the HiWhat a wonderful surprise this book turned out to be. I have never read Steven Erikson before, and was blissfully unaware of his credentials in the High Fantasy genre (the Malazan Book of the Fallen series, which I might actually give a whirl if Erikson’s world-building is as good as it is here).
This book reminded me immediately of Longer by Michael Blumlein, in that it represents certain facets about SF that I love, and which repel other readers. Both of these are novels of ideas, and in Erikson’s case, it is also a novel of talking heads.
There really is no way around this one. Yes, writing teachers always say ‘show, don’t tell’, and there is a remarkable array of secondary characters in Erikson’s book that viscerally illustrate the impact of the First Contact event on the planet and its already highly-fractured society.
A lot of these characters are evoked wonderfully, with just the right quirky detail to make them jump from the page. Others are painted with broader strokes, such as the US and Russian presidents, who are clearly based on their real-life counterparts (I think this book was published originally last year). Erikson has a ball here, and lays into these titular political figures with a real vengeance.
His US president, in particular, is foul-mouthed and dim-witted, and inadvertently quite funny. The venture capitalists and other representatives of the ruling world order do not fair well either. It is clear that Erikson is (kind of) paying homage to the more political-type SF of Ken McLeod and Iain M. Banks.
The latter is referenced quite often (the first instance is quite a heart-breaking reference to Banksie’s untimely death from cancer). His Culture series was based on the economic concept of post-scarcity, which is the idea that goods can be produced in abundance with minimal human labour required, which means they become available to all and sundry either very cheaply or even freely.
Back to the talking heads. In the first few pages, an infamous Canadian SF writer (who is also a highly-opinionated vlogger, and famously staged a slanging match with Margaret Atwood at a convention) is abducted by aliens while walking down the main street of town. Literally, a UFO appears, and a beam of white light zaps her into the beyond, much to the consternation of her doctor husband.
She spends the bulk of this nearly 500-page book in a little white room in space, debating the human condition with an omniscient AI, and whether or not she will agree to be the aliens’ spokesperson and address the planet about what is termed the Intervention. The latter has five stages, and so the book itself has five parts.
While this sounds like the worst kind of McGuffin on which to base a book of this size, Samantha August is such a compelling character that her verbal jousts with the AI are truly fascinating and quite on the money. (This is SF, after all, a genre often unafraid to tackle contemporary socio-political issues with the clarity and incisiveness they deserve, particularly given the obfuscation and downright mendacity of both politics and big business).
Indeed, what I loved about the book is that it is also a love letter to the SF genre itself, not to mention bad Hollywood movies about first contact. These always seem to equate this momentous event with alien invasion. Hence they are often set in the US, depicted as the only nation with the necessary backbone and military might to kick alien ass.
Erikson has great fun with the idea that SF writers are the heroes of the moment, feted by the high and mighty to give their advice on the aliens’ inscrutable tactics. Robert J. Sawyer appears as himself, giving politicians hell. The much-loved Prime Directive from Star Trek is also grilled.
(Star Trek makes quite a critical appearance towards the end in a way that is genuinely laugh-out loud funny). Savvy genre readers will spot a lot of additional references and nods to famous works and people.
I enjoyed this book so much that I was even prepared to forgive the cliffhanger ending, with Erikson clearly relishing stopping his story literally in the middle of the action (yes, there is action towards the end, when the talking is finally done).
Genre fans seem to think that only SF writers can write SF. When literary writers like Ian McEwan, Kazuo Ishiguro or Margaret Atwood dabble in SF or fantasy, it is somehow seen to be non-genre (with the mainstream writers often dissing the genres anyway, to much hand-wringing from the fans).
Erikson clearly comes into the SF fold as an outsider, as he is mainly seen as a fantasy writer. Then again, there are lots of examples of SF writers turning to fantasy – Richard K. Morgan and Kameron Hurley spring to mind.
Genre fans are surprisingly parochial. Given such distressing recent events as the Sad Puppies right-wing anti-diversity voting campaign at the Hugos, not to mention the toxic fandom impact on The Last Jedi, they can also be quite narrow-minded.
It takes a great writer like Erikson to jump into the SF sandbox with wild abandon, and produce something so wonderful and unexpected that it reminds us, both forcefully and gratefully, of the true saving grace of genre.
Merged review:
What a wonderful surprise this book turned out to be. I have never read Steven Erikson before, and was blissfully unaware of his credentials in the High Fantasy genre (the Malazan Book of the Fallen series, which I might actually give a whirl if Erikson’s world-building is as good as it is here).
This book reminded me immediately of Longer by Michael Blumlein, in that it represents certain facets about SF that I love, and which repel other readers. Both of these are novels of ideas, and in Erikson’s case, it is also a novel of talking heads.
There really is no way around this one. Yes, writing teachers always say ‘show, don’t tell’, and there is a remarkable array of secondary characters in Erikson’s book that viscerally illustrate the impact of the First Contact event on the planet and its already highly-fractured society.
A lot of these characters are evoked wonderfully, with just the right quirky detail to make them jump from the page. Others are painted with broader strokes, such as the US and Russian presidents, who are clearly based on their real-life counterparts (I think this book was published originally last year). Erikson has a ball here, and lays into these titular political figures with a real vengeance.
His US president, in particular, is foul-mouthed and dim-witted, and inadvertently quite funny. The venture capitalists and other representatives of the ruling world order do not fair well either. It is clear that Erikson is (kind of) paying homage to the more political-type SF of Ken McLeod and Iain M. Banks.
The latter is referenced quite often (the first instance is quite a heart-breaking reference to Banksie’s untimely death from cancer). His Culture series was based on the economic concept of post-scarcity, which is the idea that goods can be produced in abundance with minimal human labour required, which means they become available to all and sundry either very cheaply or even freely.
Back to the talking heads. In the first few pages, an infamous Canadian SF writer (who is also a highly-opinionated vlogger, and famously staged a slanging match with Margaret Atwood at a convention) is abducted by aliens while walking down the main street of town. Literally, a UFO appears, and a beam of white light zaps her into the beyond, much to the consternation of her doctor husband.
She spends the bulk of this nearly 500-page book in a little white room in space, debating the human condition with an omniscient AI, and whether or not she will agree to be the aliens’ spokesperson and address the planet about what is termed the Intervention. The latter has five stages, and so the book itself has five parts.
While this sounds like the worst kind of McGuffin on which to base a book of this size, Samantha August is such a compelling character that her verbal jousts with the AI are truly fascinating and quite on the money. (This is SF, after all, a genre often unafraid to tackle contemporary socio-political issues with the clarity and incisiveness they deserve, particularly given the obfuscation and downright mendacity of both politics and big business).
Indeed, what I loved about the book is that it is also a love letter to the SF genre itself, not to mention bad Hollywood movies about first contact. These always seem to equate this momentous event with alien invasion. Hence they are often set in the US, depicted as the only nation with the necessary backbone and military might to kick alien ass.
Erikson has great fun with the idea that SF writers are the heroes of the moment, feted by the high and mighty to give their advice on the aliens’ inscrutable tactics. Robert J. Sawyer appears as himself, giving politicians hell. The much-loved Prime Directive from Star Trek is also grilled.
(Star Trek makes quite a critical appearance towards the end in a way that is genuinely laugh-out loud funny). Savvy genre readers will spot a lot of additional references and nods to famous works and people.
I enjoyed this book so much that I was even prepared to forgive the cliffhanger ending, with Erikson clearly relishing stopping his story literally in the middle of the action (yes, there is action towards the end, when the talking is finally done).
Genre fans seem to think that only SF writers can write SF. When literary writers like Ian McEwan, Kazuo Ishiguro or Margaret Atwood dabble in SF or fantasy, it is somehow seen to be non-genre (with the mainstream writers often dissing the genres anyway, to much hand-wringing from the fans).
Erikson clearly comes into the SF fold as an outsider, as he is mainly seen as a fantasy writer. Then again, there are lots of examples of SF writers turning to fantasy – Richard K. Morgan and Kameron Hurley spring to mind.
Genre fans are surprisingly parochial. Given such distressing recent events as the Sad Puppies right-wing anti-diversity voting campaign at the Hugos, not to mention the toxic fandom impact on The Last Jedi, they can also be quite narrow-minded.
It takes a great writer like Erikson to jump into the SF sandbox with wild abandon, and produce something so wonderful and unexpected that it reminds us, both forcefully and gratefully, of the true saving grace of genre....more
'Enough time at the Majestic Oriental Circus opens the mind to all kinds of possibilities.' Interesting idea: a jinn in a lamp in love with its owner,'Enough time at the Majestic Oriental Circus opens the mind to all kinds of possibilities.' Interesting idea: a jinn in a lamp in love with its owner, but sidetracked by a subplot of letting a temple girl join the circus, with (predictably) unforeseen consequences.
Merged review:
'Enough time at the Majestic Oriental Circus opens the mind to all kinds of possibilities.' Interesting idea: a jinn in a lamp in love with its owner, but sidetracked by a subplot of letting a temple girl join the circus, with (predictably) unforeseen consequences....more
I think this is Tom Perrotta’s first novel since The Leftovers, which Damon Lindelof adapted with such insight and verve for HBO. While he went way beI think this is Tom Perrotta’s first novel since The Leftovers, which Damon Lindelof adapted with such insight and verve for HBO. While he went way beyond the source material for seasons two and three, there was sufficient intrigue and weirdness in the source material to justify the continuation. And it remains a highlight for both Lindelof and HBO itself, one of the defining television series of its time.
So perhaps it’s inevitable that HBO has again adapted a Perrotta novel. While I have yet to watch Mrs. Fletcher on the small screen, my sincere wish for the show is that it fully embraces its weirdness in the way that Lindelof did. And make no mistake: In many ways, this is a much weirder novel than The Leftovers.
Only one person disappears … teenage son Brandon goes off to college, and the book is basically about the hole left behind in the life of his middle-aged mom. Friendless, restless, and dealing with the wreckage of her life – her husband left her for a much younger woman – she tries numerous ways to address the ‘empty nest’ syndrome she is now going through.
A director at a senior care centre, Eve also attends a community college course on gender issues given by a trans person, in a vague attempt to improve her understanding of a very fluid and confusing world. Some of the motley crew who attend this course become friends … with some very unexpected benefits.
Another unintended consequence is Eve’s fascination with the abovementioned Milfateria, literally a porn hub for MILF content. Trust Perrotta to turn Milfateria into a kind of utopian community that Eve longs to be a part of:
In the Milfateria, at least, no one knew it was Valentine’s Day. The people in the porn videos just did what they did, all day, every day, with boundless energy and unflagging enthusiasm, regardless of the calendar. They fucked on Christmas; they fucked on Earth Day and the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving; their fucking was not affected in the least by wars or terrorist attacks or natural disasters. They never got sick, never got tired, never got old. Some of them were probably dead, Eve realized, not that she’d have any way of knowing which ones. But here they were on her screen, going at it with abandon, having the time of their lives. Good for you, she thought. Keep on doing what you’re doing. She was happy for them.
What her, er, exposure does, of course, leads to a couple of unexpected encounters. This is a difficult book to review without (de)spoiling the plot turns that drive the narrative. What surprised me is how sad and funny it is at the same time. Perrotta does an awesome job of getting into the minds of his very broad range of characters, from teenage to parents, elderly, college students, autistic children, jocks, amateur porn stars, and trans.
It is a very confusing world out there at the moment in terms of gender politics, which seems to elicit a lot of grimness as we all grapple with the fluidity of its boundaries and definitions (and the ingrained prejudices it still ignites.)
Comedy, and especially the kind of truthful yet painful satire that Perrotta specialises in, seems a tricky approach to such potentially incendiary subject matter. What it does, though, is allow the author a deep dive into the prevailing zeitgeist, and show us a bunch of normal fucked-up people with their own problems and troubles, grappling with the same issues, just as we ourselves are....more
Okay, the fact that this is a prequel to His Dark Materials – in fact, it takes place 12 years before the events of Northern Lights – leaches the narrOkay, the fact that this is a prequel to His Dark Materials – in fact, it takes place 12 years before the events of Northern Lights – leaches the narrative of any real urgency. We just know that, despite all the trials and tribulations that Baby Lyra faces along the tumultuous path of this book, she just has to end up under scholastic sanctuary at Jordan College. Unless Philip Pullman is (re)writing his original work along another timeline, which I suspect will only become clear in Book Two.
Somehow I don’t think so. This may be a quiet ‘little’ book that really doesn’t go anywhere, or advance Pullman’s theory of the Rusakov field to any substantial degree, but what it does so exquisitely is immerse the reader completely in Lyra’s world.
Pullman is such a good writer that he makes it appear effortless. Sisters Fenella and Benedicta and Malcolm and Alice at The Trout Inn are evoked in such living-and-breathing detail, as is the secretive world of Oakley Street and the mysterious Dr. Hannah Relf.
It is clear at this point in time that the Magisterium is not nearly as all-powerful as it is to become ultimately, although the Consistorial Court of Discipline (CCD) and the League of St. Alexander are ominous signs of the way the world is turning towards darkness.
I found the character of Gerard Bonneville a bit problematic. A boilerplate villain, he has a one-legged hyena as a daemon (which loses another limb rather gruesomely later on). A renowned scholar of the Rusakov field, he also claims that Lyra is his child. Fresh out of jail due to unnamed sexual offences involving minors, he sets out in pursuit of the child.
My question is that if Dust is such a redeeming feature of nature that points out the lies at the heart of the Magisterium, allowing it to retain an iron grip on politics and morality, then why are all the researchers into it such evil or twisted characters? Let’s face it, even Lord Asriel is a total twat.
Anyway, I’m sure All Will Be Revealed. Once the Great Flood hits, and Malcom and Alice and Baby Lyra are let loose in La Belle Sauvage (Malcolm recounts a flash of physical violence against a schoolmate who defaced the name with a strategic ‘s’), Pullman pulls out all the stops. The result is a truly breathless, nailbiting read, filled with both wonders and horrors.
There is also a lot going on here that the casual reader is probably unaware of. Despite the occasional reference to ‘Albion’, a lot of the allusions and references that underpin the main narrative are left simply as plot points for the astute reader to recognise. Katy Waldman comments in her review on Slate:
… he turns away from the Adam and Eve/satanic fall framework, toward biblical tales of the flood, Greek myths, and knightly quest narratives replete with fairy folk and beweeded river gods. The sheer polyphony of his sourcing is audacious, and it shouldn’t work, but it does; reading this novel is like standing in a room in which suddenly all of the windows have blown open at once.
Waldman waxes lyrically that Pullman “is simply one of the best storytellers to wave his hand over English literature.” This first volume of the ‘equel’ trilogy (Pullman’s own word) “excites a specific enthrallment that is all the headier for being familiar. The Book of Dust is love—nostalgic, warming, pure—at first mote.”...more
Wow ... One of the best SF books I've read this year, torn screaming and bleeding from the zeitgeist. A post-apocalyptic yarn about #TheEndofCivilisatWow ... One of the best SF books I've read this year, torn screaming and bleeding from the zeitgeist. A post-apocalyptic yarn about #TheEndofCivilisation when the Internet goes tits-up that refuses to pander to any genre expectations. Brutal, bleak, angry, savage, violent, a bit in your face with its fierce polemic. But urgent and so, so now. And it has a tragic (gay) love story as well, goddammit. Tim Maughan proves why SF is the only genre to parse the muddied waters of our insane world as it teeters on the brink of technological transcendence versus annihilation. A must-read for any halfway serious SF fan....more
Mmm. An oddity, not to mention a disappointment, coming straight off Tiamat's Wrath. Perhaps novellas like these would be more cohesive in a collectioMmm. An oddity, not to mention a disappointment, coming straight off Tiamat's Wrath. Perhaps novellas like these would be more cohesive in a collection, giving insight into some of the quirkier corners of the Expanse, etc....more
A really strong issue. Five stars for the heartrending First Contact novelette 'Story with Two Names' by Ian McHugh, and the nailbiting title novella A really strong issue. Five stars for the heartrending First Contact novelette 'Story with Two Names' by Ian McHugh, and the nailbiting title novella 'Waterlines' by Suzanne Palmer....more
You know when you start a Peter Hamilton book, it is going to take a large chunk out of your life due to its sheer length and unputdownability. I honeYou know when you start a Peter Hamilton book, it is going to take a large chunk out of your life due to its sheer length and unputdownability. I honestly think there is no one else in the business for composing intricate setpieces that just suck you in. The particular trick with Salvation is one that James Gunn used so effectively in his Transcendental books: A bunch of disparate spacefarers recount their individual stories, which are effectively separate novellas that tie together in the end (well, one hopes so anyway).
However, there is also a very high probability that a Hamilton book is likely to end on an infuriating cliffhanger that will make you want to hurl your reading device across the room, and immediately deduct a star from its overall rating. And Salvation is no exception. In fact, one can safely say that the entire book is a laborious build-up to that final line. Yes, it is quite a mean writing feat, but certainly no joy for the poor reader.
Interestingly, Salvation is not part of the Commonwealth books, which means that Hamilton has an entirely new sandbox to play in. For me, this was the best part: the author’s speculation on the possible development of a post-scarcity, galaxy-spanning civilisation is exciting and cutting-edge.
Hamilton has always been brilliant at unpacking the impact of technology on society, down to the micro level of ordinary lived lives, and here is where Salvation truly shines. (In this regard, make sure you read the wonderfully-detailed timeline right after the end, which is one of the great extras he loves to tag onto his books).
Anyone who says that SF is not reactionary, concerned about geopolitics, or prepared to take a stance on such matters, definitely needs to read Hamilton. Oh, and given the amount of highly enthusiastic and acrobatic sex that the (inevitably) youthful characters have, you’d be surprise there is any polemic there at all. Suffice it to say, you get the full package with a Hamilton book.
As for the plot: A team is sent to investigate an alien shipwreck on a planet at the very limits of human expansion. It is this team whose back stories form the bulk of the book. Meanwhile, back on Earth, humans are batting their eyelids at the Olyix, who have no qualms in dispensing their alien tech in exchange for what is essentially a shopping run on their way to visit their god at the end of the universe. (Anyone who has watched Star Trek just knows that this relationship is not going to have a happy ending, especially where nameless gods lurking at the edge of the universe are concerned).
There is another narrative strand, obviously set in a far-distant future (or maybe it is an alternate timeline?) where the members of the team are all worshipped as saints, and where teens are moulded as future fighters in the ongoing war against some implacable alien enemy à la Ender’s Game (Hamilton loves to pay passing nods to the SF literary canon). How this links to the Olyix and the alien shipwreck is, of course, the big McGuffin of the entire book.
This is a difficult one to judge, as it is going to be interesting to see how Hamilton uses what he has established here going forward. Will all the balls simply continue to be juggled expertly, or will Hamilton choose to subvert what he has set-up so far? The latter will take some inspired madness, but Hamilton has proven he is not unafraid to take what seems to be a familiar, trope-packed story in some truly unexpected directions. This has always made him one of the most consistently interesting grand space operas at work today....more
Reading this in conjunction with watching Damon Lindelof's HBO tv series is a salutory exercise in how an adaptation can be reverent, but not by-the-nReading this in conjunction with watching Damon Lindelof's HBO tv series is a salutory exercise in how an adaptation can be reverent, but not by-the-numbers, and in so going elevate the original....more
WARNING: Do not read this before you see the movie, as it discusses the plot in a lot of detail.
I have always loved the companion books to the televisWARNING: Do not read this before you see the movie, as it discusses the plot in a lot of detail.
I have always loved the companion books to the television series, as these give such insight into the socio-political context of the world that Julian Fellowes depicts so brilliantly in his writing. The movie companion is no different, with Emma Marriott examining all the real events that underpin the screenplay.
Each of the characters/actors get their own chapter, including those new specifically to the movie itself. Their role in the movie, and in the larger Downton Abbey multiverse, is placed under the spotlight. Marriott brings out the quirkiness and humanity of the actors, many who refer to being involved in this phenomenon as a career highlight.
Then there are also detailed sections about the actual making of the movie. Particularly fascinating is the insight into how the movie differs from the television show in terms of cinematography (yes, there are drone shots as well), and the recreation of all the well-known sets at Shepperton Studios, including a host of new ones. The magnificent work of the costume department is highlighted, along with a generous selection of stunning photographs.
I must say I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, which perfectly encapsulates the spirit of the television show. Julian Fellowes is a genius at such complex ensemble interplay, and he is firing on all cylinders here. Not only do all our favourite characters get their space to shine, but several stellar new ones are introduced as well.
Given the current state of political and economic flux in the world, it is perhaps no wonder that something as creakingly anachronistic as the Downton Abbey movie has done so well at the box office, immediately leading to speculation about a sequel. Yes, the world of privilege and aristocracy it depicts is itself on the cusp of change in 1927. But perhaps it is a guilty pleasure for many of us to get a glimpse at a world long-gone, where black and white are not nearly as grey as they are today....more
Interesting take on a self-help book in that it demands a daily commitment from the reader/participant. Ultimately as much a guide to mindfulness/selfInteresting take on a self-help book in that it demands a daily commitment from the reader/participant. Ultimately as much a guide to mindfulness/self-awareness as it is a systematic deconstruction of bad habits and mental ruts. I loved the grace notes in the ending, which is totally open about the future post the 30-day period. The fact that any number is arbitrary is perhaps the greatest realisation here....more
McEwan has proven his skill with satire (Nutshell) and socio-political commentary (Solar), so this 'Kafka-in-reverse' (a cockroach turns into a man) pMcEwan has proven his skill with satire (Nutshell) and socio-political commentary (Solar), so this 'Kafka-in-reverse' (a cockroach turns into a man) pastiche is a curious misstep. Dull and plodding, it has a stellar premise in that said cockroach morphs into the UK PM, and launches a policy of economic 'reversalism' that quickly goes global. Sadly, the polemic outweighs the contrivance....more
If this had been the first Forward story I had read, I would probably have given up on the series. I liked it even less than the Andy Weir, mainly dueIf this had been the first Forward story I had read, I would probably have given up on the series. I liked it even less than the Andy Weir, mainly due to its eye-rolling melodrama. There is a great delicate idea in there, an SF version of 'The Orchard Thief' by Susan Orlean, but spoilt by the heavy-handed intro of the planet-killer comet. Called Finis. Geddit?...more
Blake Crouch, curator of the Forward series for Amazon Original stories, delivers a decidedly creepy and weirdly transcendent take on AI evolution. IsBlake Crouch, curator of the Forward series for Amazon Original stories, delivers a decidedly creepy and weirdly transcendent take on AI evolution. Is Amazon trying to out-novella Tor with Forward? This is a superb collection of top writers revelling in the sheer potentiality of the SF genre. Highly recommended....more
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