The Walking Dead Vol. 13: Too Far Gone by Robert Kirkman

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


I love The Walking Dead, but this volume of the long-running series is a bit underwhelming.

We've followed Rick Grimes and his companions for a few years now as they travel across a zombie-overrun United States, attempting to come to survive and develop a new life for themselves. The series has been fascinating for its psychological realism; Kirkman explores the limits of the human mind, just what people will do when their survival is on the line, and how they struggle to maintain some semblance of sanity in a post-apocalyptic world. But, I wonder a bit about what may be left to explore.

This and the previous volume deal with Rick Grimes' arrival at a "gated community" of sorts -- a group of people who have managed to build a small, stable village, relatively "normal" and protected from the horrors of the zombies outside their walls. The drama arises from the conflict between the members of the community -- who have gotten used to a return to a quasi-normal life -- and Rick Grimes' group, strung out from month upon month of living on the edge. The problems that were teased at the end of the last volume emerge here, but they are resolved too quickly and neatly, undermining the naturalistic feel of the series thus far. Another potential threat that is raised is also quickly dealt with, making it seem like an exercise in treading water. The cliffhanger ending promises interesting new developments, but I wonder if the upshot of them will be any different than what we've already seen. There's also some potential in the growing tension between Rick and his son Carl, but again, I don't know what Kirkman can do that will wow us the way he had in the past.

I think that, just maybe, it is time for Kirkman to begin moving us to the endgame. Either that, or something "game-changing" needs to happen -- a shift to all new characters in a radically different situation, something that makes the series new again. While I'll probably keep reading the series as long as Kirkman keeps writing it -- provided it doesn't get completely terrible -- it is slowly moving down my priority list. I am mildly hopeful for the next installment, but I think that The Walking Dead is past its heyday.



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The Reality Dysfunction by Peter F. Hamilton

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I love big books. The first book in Hamilton's Night's Dawn trilogy is definitely a big book, and I don't just mean in length (although the 1000+ pages help). It's a big book in scope: Hamilton attempts to create a vivid, believable future in which humans have colonized the galaxy, modified their genetic code, and made first contact with alien species.



Hamilton's novel is a galaxy spanning space opera, big on action, sex, and military tech. It's a species of "hard" sci-fi, I would say, although how well thought out and developed the scientific aspect of the story is, I can't say. Despite its length, its a relatively quick read; Hamilton's prose is clear yet evocative, and he handles dialogue and action quite well. Some of the characters are a bit cliched -- the grizzled veteran, the dashing young hero, etc. etc. -- but he keeps it fresh.



The main story, which doesn't really emerge until quite a ways through the novel, is the discovery of "the Reality Dysfunction," a mysterious temporal phenomenon that unleashes chaos on a small, developing planet and threatens to engulf the entirety of human-occupied space. But in many ways, the "Dysfunction" is only a device for Hamilton to imagine how human society may develop over the next few hundred years. He's imagined a fractured galaxy, where corporate interests, religious orders, and neo-feudal dynasties each compete for power and resources. Extraterrestrial colonies are ethnically segregated, and while some embrace new technologies and develop new ways of life, others attempt to turn back the clock and recreate older social orders. Hamilton jumps from character to character, each one providing a different perspective and brought up to understand the workings of the galaxy in completely different ways. While Hamilton is not a world-class writer, he's a very talented and imaginative one, and each character speaks in their own voice. Following each as their lives intersect with one another and with the central story is as interesting as the mystery at the heart of the novel itself.



Speaking of which, the "Dysfunction" is a bit of a let-down when its nature is finally revealed. Don't get me wrong, it is still an intriguing idea, but not quite as mind-blowing or fantastic as I'd hoped. But, the novel ends with major developments in the works and huge plot threads still unresolved, so I think there's a lot of good stuff to come. Definitely recommended for fans of smart sci-fi.



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The Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


An ambitious project. In the original Foundation trilogy, Asimov tells the story of a future Galactic Empire of humanity in decline. In response to signs of decay and the prospect of thousands of years of barbarism, a group of psychohistorians -- psychologists who use advanced mathematics and social-economic-political analyses of mass human behavior to predict the major trends of future civilization -- establish a Foundation to preserve knowledge, stave off barbarism, and eventually set up a new Galactic Empire. The first book tells of its establishment and first major struggles; the second narrates the Foundation reaching its zenith, followed by a traumatic upheaval caused by unforeseen and unpredictable events; and the third depicts the aftermath of the upheaval and the attempts by conflicting parties to salvage the original plan for civilization's survival.



The idea of the series is interesting, and Asimov's description of the strengths and limitations of psychohistory is thought-provoking: just how predictable are humans? If our behavior as a group is foreseeable, do we have individual free will? However, Asimov's writing style is rather mundane, sometimes even clunky and awkward, and the "science" aspect of this sci-fi is pretty thin. It's really a book about how people behave in moments of crisis and how we understand ourselves in relation to the forces that (we think) are shaping our future. The big "surprises" are really not that surprising, fairly easily guessed long before the reveal. Still, it's a fun book to read. Asimov's notion of human society is, I think, rather simplified and ignores many of the vicissitudes that affect human life and behavior, but as a space-age version of Gibbon's "Decline and Fall," it satisfies.



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Shakespeare and Early Modern Political Thought by David Armitage

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


This collection attempts to expand scholarship on Shakespeare's engagement with the political theory of his time. While not every essay is amazing, they do bring interesting new contexts to a study of Shakespeare's works, and they also complicate recent efforts to claim the playwright as an advocate for republican government. The overall picture that one gets is of a writer fascinated with the exercise of power and extremely cynical about the possibilities for ethical political action. Since most of the contributors are historians and not literary critics, some of the readings are lacking, but its a worthwhile book to peruse.



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Review: Death in Venice

Death in Venice by Thomas Mann

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Thomas Mann's famous novella tells the story of Gustav von Aschenbach, an internationally renowned writer who travels to Venice and becomes erotically obsessed with a young boy. This obsession leads eventually, as the title would suggest, to his death, both metaphorically and literally.

The character of Aschenbach is a fascinating one; he is brilliant, devoted to his work, and he sees the world through the eyes of a learned artist who lives entirely in the mind. Given Mann's interest in Freudian psychology, it is difficult not to see this as the story of the return of the repressed: his ascetic and discipline lifestyle -- the key to his literary success and reputation -- finally cracks as the libidic (is that a word?) energies so long sublimated into artist endeavors take control, manifesting in his pederastic desire for the young Polish boy, Tadzio, a representative, perhaps, to Aschenbach of his own lost, fragile sexuality, childish and immature in its development. At the same time, Aschenbach's sexual desires are bound up with a death drive; his trip to Venice is spurred by an imposing and frightening figure staring at him from a cemetery, and Tadzio himself is described as delicate and sickly. Through Aschenbach's obsessive pursuit of Tadzio -- a pursuit that, despite its passion, remains physically unconsummated -- Mann explores the paradoxical connections between Eros and Thanatos, the drive to experience and express life in a moment of passion and the desire to abandon that life, the loss of self in erotic union.

Because the narrative operates from the perspective of Aschenbach (although it is not a first-person narrator), the writing is extremely erudite. Aschenbach is an intellectual, and even in his most passionate moments sees the world through the lens of his artistic and philosophical pursuits. The novella is filled with allusions to and discussions of classical myth and thought, in particular Plato's works on love and desire. The extremely refined art and artifice of the work is in keeping with Aschenbach's character, although it also means that the work often feels rather detached; we don't inhabit Aschenbach's mind, we understand it intellectually, through the conceptual vocabulary he himself has built up through his life. That's not to say that it is not compelling, but it isn't a "page-turner" in any traditional sense. As a reader, I felt motivated not by passion, but by the intellectual interest to study Aschenbach's passion, to understand it and find out how it would resolve (or not resolve) itself. It works, definitely -- it reproduces in the reader the mind of its central character and with its attendant conflicts, tensions, and flaws -- but it isn't a work that I would see myself returning to repeatedly to read for enjoyment. It is, I think, literature as philosophy, and as such, it requires a thoughtful, philosophical, and somewhat detached mood.



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Generation A by Douglas Coupland

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Coupland is most famous, I think, for his early (first?) novel, Generation X, which also happens to be the only other book of Coupland's I've read. The older book gave a name to a generation of dispossessed slacker hipsters; and, like the people who took after the book, it wasn't all that great. I read Generation X maybe 10-12 years ago, definitely after the time of its relevance. I don't remember much of it besides that it was about a group of 20-somethings drifting through life, telling each other stories. I also remember I didn't find it that interesting. Oh well.

So, I was a bit skeptical when my partner told me to read Generation A, Coupland's most recent book, because of its clear reference to his earlier work. And isn't just the title; the inside jacket explicitly cites the earlier work and positions Generation A as a follow-up of sorts. That didn't fill me with confidence, but I decided to go for it anyway.

I'm glad I did. While I wouldn't classify Generation A as a truly great piece of literature or put it in my all-time favorites, it is really very good. The basic story is thus: It is the near future. Bees have been extinct for years, causing massive crop failures and severe trauma to the global economy. The majority of people lives a kind of struggling lower-middle class life. The world is fully connected by global communications technology that invades every nook and cranny of life. Yet at the same time, the desire to "drop out" has become nearly overwhelming, and a pharmaceutical named Solon is growing every more popular. It gives on the feeling of complete isolation, and with it, a lack of any deep attachment to anything or anyone. The drug is highly addictive.

5 people, seemingly scattered and random across the world, are stung by bees within a span of a few weeks. Of course, hysteria erupts, and the five are intensively studied to see what it is about them that attracted bees -- animals that hadn't been seen anywhere for years. Eventually, the five are brought together and they -- you guessed it -- tell each other stories. Somehow, these stories -- the sense of connection they bring, the ability to connect (and disconnect) people from one another, the way they build on each other and draw from the collective global internet culture -- are the key to the mystery of the bees, the growing sense of global malaise, and the future of human society.

Perhaps it is because I am closer to the world of Generation A than I ever was to the world of Generation X, but I found this novel much more compelling. The end is, admittedly, a bit of a let-down, as I was hoping for something a bit more grand, but it was a thoroughly gripping and entertaining story. Coupland is a great storyteller about stories and storytelling -- how stories are fundamental to the interpersonal links that connect humans, how no story exists in isolation, how stories mutate and cross over between fiction and life, and how all communication is a form of narrative. The pseudo-sci fi aspect of the novel is something of a red herring, which I think is perhaps why I was a bit disappointed by the end, but I think it should be understood as another story -- another part of global communication and one of the many mini-narratives that wrap around us. Recommended.



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America the Beautiful: A Novel by Moon Unit Zappa

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


So, first off, the obligatory admission: I bought this book initially because it has the name "Zappa" on the cover. I'm a Frank Zappa fanatic, and many, many years ago I saw a book by his eldest child, Moon Unit, so I bought it. It wasn't until recently that I decided to read it. Here goes the review:



I've never read anything that is classified as "Chick Lit" but I think this would probably count. It's a book about a young woman, America Throne, daughter of the famous artist and writer Boris Throne, deceased. America is looking for love, trying to figure out her life, trying to get over an abrupt break-up initiated by her douchey artist boyfriend, trying to get over the death of her often distant and philandering father, trying to deal with her bizarre mother, and so on, and so forth. Told by America, this is the story of a young woman's existential crisis in a pop culture, superficial age. In Los Angeles.



The reason I say it could probably be considered "Chick Lit" (and I'm not using that term negatively, nor do I wish to get into a debate about gender bias in the literary world) is because, well, everything I said above: it's a woman obsessing over "affairs of the heart," wondering when she'll find true love, dealing with daddy issues, the whole nine-yards. In a way, it's pretty cliche. BUT, Moon Zappa is a pretty decent writer. There's a lot of humor, some witty observations, clever and skewed ways of looking at the world... It's definitely "light" fiction, but it isn't crap the way, say, your average dime-store harlequin romance novel is a pile of crap (and yes, they are crap in every way, I will not back down from that statement). Rather than being escapist fiction for bored, sad, lonely, and low-brow housewives, this is escapist fiction for intelligent, literary indie chicks -- see the promo quotes on the cover from Janeane Garafolo and Alanis Morrissette. It's not a book I will read again, but it was an entertaining diversion. Just not really interesting beyond a quick read through.



Now, to deal with the elephant in the room: autobiography or not? Moon has been pretty adamant about saying, "this book is NOT autobiography. My family is not like this, my dad was not like this." I'm inclined to believe that is basically true, but clearly she drew on her life for inspiration and raw material. I think, though, it was more on the order of using the structure of her life -- famous dad, strange name, oddly psuedo-public life in the world of the semi-famous, strains of trying to figure out your own path in the shadow of a famous father -- and reimagined it. I don't think, for example, that Moon's childhood was much like the childhood of her character, but I'm sure the odd incident or two made its way into the book. That is, after all, what writers do, and even autobiography is a fictional construction. Of course, the other reason why I doubt that the book is a memoir in disguise is because of Gail Zappa and the Zappa Family Trust. The Zappas, led primarily by Gail (Frank's widow) have been pretty protective of Frank's legacy since his death, and I really doubt Gail or even Moon would want to publish something that cast him in a negative light or portrayed him as a distant father, philandering husband, self-obsessed artist using everyone around him as part of his work. Ever since Frank became something of a public/political figure in the 80s, one of the family's main emphases has been that while he may have been a composer of eccentric, satirical, and often extremely dirty music, he was also a devoted family man.



Anyway, tangent... To Frank Zappa fans: you probably won't be that interested in this book for its literary merits, unless you're into above-average, intelligently written rom-com stuff. If you're interested in it for dirt on the Zappa family, look elsewhere also. If you are the target audience for this, however, which I think would be middle/upper class women aged 21-35, you may dig it. You're not going to get any new insights about life and love, but you'll laugh some.



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