The Damage Done

Every once in a while, I feel like I should review some fiction. Not very often -- I prefer nonfiction, and get discouraged by all the fiction reviews I see. But I found a novel by Walter Dean Myers this month. I enjoy both his nonfiction and his fiction. Sunrise Over Fallujah is about the invasion of Iraq. More precisely, about conditions soon after the invasion. And as General Sherman warned us, war is hell.

So I'm glad Myers doesn't try to glorify the conflict:

"You bombed my village," the old man, his head down, replied slowly in English. "First you shoot into my house, then you come to the door."

"Where you learn to speak English?" Jonesy asked.

"I drove a cab in London for twelve years," answered the old man. "When I had enough money to buy a house for my family, I came back to my country."

"You're going to be all right," Jonesy said. "We don't hurt our prisoners."

Future, Tense

In 1975 it was clear to me as a teen reader that the future was not going to look like what was promised back in the 1950s.  Even now, sixty years after those flights of architectural and aeronautical fancy first filled post-war imaginations, we are nowhere near living on other planets, getting around by flying car, or residing in floating Fuller Dome cities in the oceans. I think the reason for this failure of vision was that technology was viewed as means to an end product for consumers – Look at all the nifty futuristic things we can own!  Even robots were seen as servants to our lifestyle, not as artificial intelligence that would further mankind's thinking.

Skip ahead now to the mid-1980s.  Images in popular culture of our future no longer seem so rosy.  There is a world on our horizon filled with people using technology to augment their dreary reality, as a means to escapism.  Some rent themselves out as living memory caches, others jack themselves in to muck around inside the digital Matrix for a heist, and there are the corporate raiders who intricately deal and double-deal genetic designers in elaborate cat-and-mouse games.  Its a world where hackers fly to NYC to buy stolen Russian microprocessors, then to Hong Kong and back to fence their wire transfers to Zurich, then back to LA to bring down a Mob-run empire with the ease we know today of flying daily commuter routes and surfing the internet on our cell phones.  This is the world of William Gibson's collection of stories, Burning Chrome.

I came back to this collection, which has remained in print since it's original release back in 1986, just to see how well it would hold up for teen readers today.  Would mention of the Matrix elicit smirks from teens who first heard that term uttered from the mouth of Keanu Reeves?  My fear was that the writing would feel as dated as sci-fi movie effects looked back then, pre-digital, when obvious cutaways between a latex head and the wooden acting of Arnold Schwarzenegger didn't quite mesh in The Terminator.  Happily (though I shouldn't have been surprised) Burning Chrome remains both solid in its cyberpunk visions and as an introduction the work of William Gibson.

Metamorphosis: Junior Year by Betsy Franco

There better be some god of journals and blogs who cares about what I'm saying, or I'm screwed.

Thus starts Metamorphosis: Junior Year, the story of a high school junior named Ovid, whose sister got hooked on meth and ran away, leaving him home alone with his hovering parents. Ovid is an artist and a poet, so occasionally there are poems (by Betsy Franco, like the rest of the text) and drawings (by her son, Tom Franco - and yes, he's one of James Franco's brothers).

Ovid spends a lot of time talking about his friends in high school, all of whom are in situations that are very much like those faced by actual teens - a girl with an eating disorder, another who shoplifts and might be bisexual, another who prefers to hang out online and can't really deal with an in-person relationship; a guy who totally loved his girlfriend and was messed up when she dumped him; another who cuts himself. There are others, too, with different problems.

Ovid talks about his parents, too - how they are trying so hard to get everything "right" with him so that he won't turn out like his sister that he's going mental. He talks about his sister, too - the good, the bad, and the ugly - and about his artwork.

The First Boundary: Books that Make You Want to Read More Books!

A lot of guys grow up thinking books are not for them, that they shouldn’t be lost in their own imaginations with the printed page lighting the way. But if you get the right book, at the right time, you see such bias for what it is: an illusion that might deny you some of the best adventures you’ll enjoy.

Outside of comic books, I wasn’t a big reader, but a few books completely blew the lid off the illusion that reading was lame.

The first was Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series. While I loved Star Wars and Star Trek, this was a different kind of cosmic adventure. The story was big. Really big. End of civilization as we know it BIG. And through a series of linked stories that tied together an adventure to save the universe over thousands of years, Asimov painted an epic story of smarts against vice and decay, all using a cosmic background. I’ve never been moved by any other Asimov stories, but as a young man, snowed-in and sick, the adventures of Hari Seldon and the mighty villain known as the Mule blew apart the lie I’d believed: that books couldn’t be wicked fun and smart at the same time.

Dark, Dystopian, and Damn Good: Monsters of Men by Patrick Ness

When I first read The Knife of Never Letting Go, the first volume of the Chaos Walking trilogy by Patrick Ness, I was absorbed. I was horrified. I was swept right along. And then I was MAD. Because it ended at possibly the most intense and stressful moment of the story. If you've read it, you know what I'm talking about. I cursed Mr. Ness roundly and then went about my life until such time as one of my fellow GLW contributors sent me a review copy of the second book. Oh, I was thrilled, just as I was thrilled when I got the privilege of reading an advance copy of the last volume recently.

And what can I say? This is one of the most striking series I've read in quite a while, period. It's raw and honest—because, of course, each of the male characters has his "noise," making his thoughts audible to everyone within range. But this series isn't just about what happens when everyone around you can hear what's running through your mind. It's also about deception, and how deep the roots of deception can go. It's about devotion, and how love can be powerful enough to fight back hatred and greed. And it's about redemption, asking the question of how far you can go before you are irredeemable.

The Terrible Axe-Man of New Orleans: ATreasury of XXth Century Murder, #3 -- Rick Geary

I love comic books.  I love unsolved mysteries¹.

So it was a good bet that Rick Geary's The Terrible Axe-Man of New Orleans would be right up my alley.

Hoo boy, was it!  I'm going to have to get the first two in the series now, as well as his series about murders in the Victorian Era.  Because I'm in love.

What They Always Tell Us by Martin Wilson

What They Always Tell Us by Martin Wilson
"Thoughtful and moving, What they Always Tell Us is a powerful debut novel about the bond between two brothers—and the year that changes everything.

JAMES: Popular, smart, and athletic, James seems to have it all. But the only thing James really wants is his college acceptance letter, so he can get far away from Alabama. In a town where secrets are hard to keep, everyone knows what Alex did at the annual back-to-school party. The only question is why.

ALEX: With his friends no longer talking to him and his brother constantly in motion, Alex is prepared to get through junior year on his own. And he would, if his ten-year-old neighbor, Henry, didn't keep showing up, looking for company. What Alex cares most about is running, and when he's encouraged to try out for cross-country, he's surprised to find more than just a supportive teammate in his brother's friend Nathen."- summary from Martin Wilson's website

This book was a refreshing read after all the fast-paced, quick adventures I'd been reading. Wilson's debut is more character-based than plot-based and, because of that, is quieter than a lot of books out there right now. It's a fantastically written debut that goes back and forth between two brothers over the course of a year and the change that comes over them during that time. It was a bit weird reading in third person, even though I've gotten used to it; for some reason, it just didn't feel right to me sometimes.

Being a gay man, I found myself wanting more of Alex's chapters and less of James' which I know is very selfish. I did enjoy James' story but Alex's rang more true to me and so I identified with it more. The romance in his part was just very swoon-worthy in my mind and I want my own Nathen now. It was nice to read a book that didn't have a lot of angst associated with the main character realizing he's gay. Alex just accepted it and moved on, much like how I did, though I didn't have a hot guy to help me figure it out.

Wilson spends a lot of time making his characters fully three-dimensional and he did a great job of conveying a lot of emotions subtly. Like I said before, it's a very quiet book and it's one that you want to just curl up and spend your time with.

One character that's a constant between the two stories is a young boy named Henry and there's a whole sub-plot mystery going on with him which was fun to read. He was a great inclusion into the book because he befriended both of the brothers and helped them change over the year. I don't know, I just really liked his character- very smart and perceptive.

Overall, a wonderful, coming-of-age debut that makes me eager to read more of Wilson's writing.

The Goon: Chinatown and the Mystery of Mr. Wicker

If you don't already know who the Goon is, you will soon enough. Post Comic-Con 2010 the buzz is already building for the David Fincher-produced (and richly computer animated) Goon movie. And from the looks of the trailer, it's going to be a faithful translation of this singularly bizarre comic book.

Explaining The Goon is not the easiest task around. Writer/artist Eric Powell has taken pieces of multiple genres and combined them into something far greater than the sum of its parts. Think 30s-era gangster films crossed with H.P. Lovecraft-inspired monsters, zombies and a heavy dose of circus angst and you'll just begin to scratch the surface of what The Goon entails. The character of the Goon is just as complex as his namesake book. He's a heavy drinking mob boss/enforcer all rolled into one who travels throughout a mythical cityscape, eliminating those who dare cross his path. Along for the ride is Goon's sidekick Frankie, whose blank, totally white eyes should remind even a casual reader of the characters in Little Orphan Annie.

Most of the collected volumes of The Goon comics are self-contained stories. By its very nature, The Goon is episodic and piecemeal, something of an homage to its varied source material. And up until recently, the character of the Goon, while fun and interesting, has not had significant depth. That is, until Chinatown and the Mystery of Mr. Wicker.

This completely self-contained story does not require that you know anything about the Goon or his menagerie of characters, so it's the perfect first read for a Goon-newbie. Beyond that simple fact, it's one of Eric Powell's most emotionally compelling works, opening doors of insight into the Goon's character and motivations. Beneath his simple, brutal and cartoonish appearance, the Goon has a heart, and it is that heart that is explored in tragic detail in this graphic novel. It's still fun, as all Goon stories tend to be, and there's still plenty of action, but underneath the violence lies a truly heartbreaking story. For me, it's Powell's best work. Read it. Telling you any more would spoil the experience.

Bad Kids

Lily, Noah and Simon are "bad kids." Or they think of themselves that way, and try to promote that impression of themselves. They smoke cigarettes and pot. They attend parties and partake in underage drinking. Noah is a dealer. The three of them are best friends, and spend much of their time "hanging out," getting high, listening to music, skipping class.

Sailing through Michael Crichton's Pirate Latitudes

After my recent dire experience with The Island, Peter Benchley's 1979 pirate adventure (see my post here), I was leery of another "best-selling" author tackling the same subject. I was doubly leery when that author was the late Michael Crichton, a writer whose brilliant and innovative ideas are invariably balanced by a nonexistent sense of pacing, characterization and style.