Jan Priddy > Recent Status Updates

The inheritors, the house, a victim and his victimizer. So far.

I feared Suvin's essay about SF works so hard to be high-toned and academic, it might lose coherence: "Whatever else it might also be, SF is the literature of cognitive estrangement. Okay, say you're right and this is true here beyond what any fiction offers... ultimately an interesting analysis.

Le Guin's story, "Nine Lives" (1969), is set on a distant mining planet. The 12 characters are racially diverse. She addresses issues with a cadre of cloned people, which are complex and compelling. Great story, though she gets a few things wrong about the future. A UK so very democratic that the powerful suffer to save the poor? Ireland depopulated from unbridled overpopulation? Uranium?

I read the intro, checked out the last pages, the first paragraph of Panshin's piece. I stalled in "A Boy and His Dog." So I will say it's disgusting and someone will tell me I am being too sensitive, and I will counter that boys have been saying this shit forever. Yadda yada yada. And then I will note it's supposed to be 2024, and that the world Ellison describes is supposed to have existed since 2007. Whoops

Mixed feelings—a tragic story; rare awkward word choices ["worriedly"]; self-destruction is always a challenge for me. I assume it will turn, but this will be nearer the end.

In real life, recovery is always harder than the fall.

I never have to correct Grafton's grammar and once in a while she writes something beautiful about the sky or trees, a bit of wisdom, a familiar complaint and shrug. Her detective is likable and unlike me.

I am surprised by the praise for this translator; there are grammatical errors.

There are actually 150 pages in this slim book, and I have already read the title page and publishing history and the back matter, so I am just 24 pages from the end and loving this little book just as my friend suggested I might.

I should have more trust... !!!

Charming voice. The beatings disturb me. Fortunately, I am not required to be objective. This book is lively enough to finish.

Oh dear. I am already arguing: Orchids are only blue if they are dyed that color and tulips are not from Africa but the other side of the Mediterranean east to the Middle East. Yes, the narrator is not to know that, but why would Africa and blue orchids even come up? Trash and grass sitting around for fifty years would have already disintegrated. Floating on the ocean and the candles still have scent?

Great voice.

Obreht has already revealed a connection critical to the story. I am grateful and impressed that this does not alter my eagerness to find out what happens next!

I would call this magic realism, or perhaps fantasy of the more familiar type. The mythology and local magic come alive. A powerful story and an appropriate compliment to the recent read of House of Rust (a metaphor which I absolutely failed to grasp).

I have read a bit further than this, but I am done. This is simply not a good choice for me. Bajaber's imagination is impressive... but

Stunning so far! Mysterious and beautifully written.