bibliogramma: (Default)

Like most people who like to read books, I have a "book list" of books that I want to read. And a pile of "books waiting to be read" somewhere in my house.

Normally, the way that I add books to my book list is rather haphazard. Someone I trust recommends a book, or I'm wandering around the Internetz and I run across an interesting book review, or I read one in one of the very few magazines I actually subscribe to, or I read an anthology and find a new writer whose work intrigues me, or I discover through any one of many ways that an author I'm already familiar with has put out a new book. I even check footnotes and bibliographies of books I read to find info about other books in the same or a related field that might be of interest.

This would be how I've managed to create a book list that is currently 26 pages long, in Courier 9 point, with half-inch top and bottom margins. We don't really want to contemplate how many book are on that list, but it's probably over 1,000.

Which is why it's probably a very foolish thing for me to consider embarking on a new reading project... but I'm going to, anyway. I've been making up lists of the winners and short-listed nominees of the Tiptree, Gaylactic Spectrum, Carl Brandon Society and Lambda Science Fiction and Fantasy awards, with an eye to reading the ones that I have not already read that seem interesting to me. I'm not going to be obsessive about this and try to read every single winner or short-listed entry for each award, but I do think I should read more of the books that have been identified as significant works according to the selection criteria of the four organisations involved.

Obviously, I've already read at least some of the books that have been honoured, but I want to read more.

bibliogramma: (Default)

Over the past few months, I’ve read a number of short story anthologies. I seem to go through phases with respect to reading anthologies. Last year, I read only two multi-author short story collections and two single-author collections.

Black Swan, White Raven, (eds.) Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling
Crossroads, (ed.) Mercedes Lackey

Consider Her Ways and Others, John Wyndham
Dressing for the Carnival, Carol Shields

So far this year, I’ve read nine multi-author short story collections (two of which – the James Tiptree Award anthologies – I have written about already) and six single-author collections (most of which I’ve discussed earlier in this journal).

Sex, the Future and Chocolate Chip Cookies: the James Tiptree Award Anthology Vol I, (eds.) Fowler, Murphy, Nothin, Smith
The James Tiptree Award Anthology Vol II, (eds.) Fowler, Murphy, Nothin, Smith
Women of War, (eds.) Tanya Huff and Alexander Potter
Aegri Somnia, (eds.) Jason Sizemore and Gill Ainsworth
The Doom of Camelot, (ed.) James Lowder)
Glorifying Terrorism, (ed.) Farah Mendlesohn
So Long Been Dreaming: Post Colonial Science Fiction and Fantasy, (eds.) Nalo Hopkinson, Uppinder Mehan
Tales from the Black Dog: A Wyrdsmiths Chapbook, (ed.) William G. Henry
The New Wyrd: A Wyrdsmiths Anthology, (ed.) William G. Henry

Stealing Magic, Tanya Huff
Her Smoke Rose Up Forever, James Tiptree Jr.
Meet Me at Infinity, James Tiptree Jr
Boy in the Middle, Patrick Califia
Ordinary People, Eleanor Arnason
Bloodchild, Octavia Butler

I’m not going to discuss any particular anthologies at length here, because many of these I’ve already written about elsewhere, and the remainder I will write up sooner or later. I just wanted to talk about the short story anthology in general and my relationship to it.

I tend, overall, to prefer novels to short stories. I think part of it may be that I read very quickly – short stories, no matter how wonderful, are, well, short. I mostly read fiction to be deeply engaged, swept away, taken under the waters of creative vision and held there until I can’t endure the richness of the thoughts and images in my blood and have to come up and breathe the thinner air of reality. Novels do that better than short stories.

But short stories are often the faerie lights along the road that lure you toward the heady realms that are deeper in, further up. They intrigue, seduce, lure the reader toward the vast realms that await, often at the same time that they shine, perfect creations in their own right, short but intense experiences that leave haunting afterimages in the mind.

Anthologies serve a number of excellent purposes. They can introduce the reader to a new author – and many of the anthologies I’ve read this year have done just that. Best-of collections, anthologies set in a shared world, collections assembled – as in the two Wyrdsmiths collections on my list – by a group of writers creating a showcase for their work, are all great ways for me of finding new and interesting voices. I confess that I’m more likely to buy one of these if there’s at least one story by someone I know and enjoy – but the one known quality, so to speak, is usually enough for me to jump in and see what other, hitherto undiscovered treasures may be found.

Single author collections, especially from a favourite writer, can be a delightful change of pace, a smorgasbord of varied tastes and tones from someone you already know and appreciate. I’ve read a fair number of these this year, all from writers on my (admittedly large) list of favourite authors.

The kind of anthology I tend to like the most, however, is the one built around a theme, and there are a few of those in this year’s reading so far. It is fascinating to see how different authors approach a basic concept, to be required by the multiplicity of images and voices and paths and conclusions presented to examine that concept in greater detail, and broader scope. Which is one of the reasons that I think that Glorifying Terrorism – an anthology created in response to a recently enacted British anti-terrorism law that makes it a crime to “glorify terrorism,” whatever that means – may be one of the most important anthologies of the year. But more on that in a post devoted to that particular book.

Sometimes, in the midst of reading those all-encompassing novels I enjoy so much, I forget that less can be more, at the right place and time. It’s been a pleasure remembering that this year.

bibliogramma: (Default)


As Gentle Reader may recall, in the course of my quest for a copy of Naomi Mitchison's incomparable Arthurian novel To the Chapel Perilous, I discovered that my former medieval studies professor, Arthurian scholar Raymond H. Thompson, had served as consulting editor for a series of reprints of lost classics (and some new pearls) of Arthurian-based fiction.

I managed to acquire several of the books last year, including, of course, the afore-mentioned jewel by Mitchison.

I am now totally delirious with the joy of being able to report that my beloved partner [personal profile] glaurung has actually acquired all but two of the books published as part of this series, and as soon as I can render them readable*, I will no doubt disappear into some vague and mystical place not far from Glastonbury Tor and devour them.

For those with any interest in the field, my latest acquisitions are:

Percival and the Presence of God, by Jim Hunter. (6201, Chaosium, 1997); reprint of the 1978 Faber and Faber edition.

Arthur, the Bear of Britain, by Edward Frankland. (6202, Chaosium/Green Knight Publishing co-publication, 1998); reprint of the 1944 McDonald & Co. edition.

Kinsmen of the Grail, by Dorothy James Roberts. (6204, Green Knight Publishing, 2000); reprint of the 1963 Little, Brown and Company edition.

The Life of Sir Aglovale, by Clemence Housman. (6205, Green Knight Publishing, 2000); reprint of the 1905 Methuen & Co. Ltd. edition.

The Doom of Camelot, edited by James Lowder. (6206, Green Knight Publishing, 2000); original anthology.

Exiled From Camelot, by Cherith Baldry. (6207, Green Knight Publishing, 2001); original novel.

The Pagan King, by Edison Marshall. (6208, Green Knight Publishing, 2001); reprint of the 1959 Doubleday & Co. edition.

Legends of the Pendragon, edited by James Lowder. (6211, Green Knight Publishing, 2002); original anthology.

The Follies of Sir Harald, by Phyllis Ann Karr. (6212, Green Knight Publishing, 2001); original novel.

The two books remaining to be collected from the series are:

The Merriest Knight: The Collected Arthurian Tales of Theodore Goodridge Roberts, edited by Mike Ashley. (6210, Green Knight Publishing, 2001); original collection of Roberts' stories, including previously unpublished material.

Pendragon, by Wilfred Barnard Faraday. 96213, Green Knight Publishing, 2002); reprint of the 1930 Methuen & Co. Ltd. edition.

Colour me happy.



*As Gentle Reader may know, I suffer from profound environmental illness, which makes book reading a bit of a challenge, as many kinds of papers and inks emit volatile gases at levels too low for the average person to detect, but which can make me profoundly ill. Added to that, I am also severely affected by many of the artificial components of things like perfume and scented personal care and air-freshening products, which many of these books, being used copies, have absorbed from, say, being read by someone wearing hand lotion or being read in a room where a scented candle or one of those hideously poisonous air freshening products was present. (And yes, I can smell your hand lotion or your air freshener on a book you may have read five years ago.) Many books I acquire must be heated gently over a long period of time to drive out as many volatiles as possible before I can read them. Sigh. It's sheer torture knowing that you actually have a book you've been waiting impatiently to read, but knowing that it will be at least another couple of months before it's safe to go ahead and read it.

bibliogramma: (Default)

So I was wandering through friends-of-friends-of-friends pages looking for interesting books reviews and recommendations, and I happened across this list that purported to contain the 1,001 books one should read before one dies.

I have not read very many of them. Alas, by the standards of the creator of this particular list, I am shockingly ill-read. I note that I have read very little of what is considered important literature (at least according to the creator of this list) from roughly the last 50 years, with the exception of important science fiction. There are certainly some authors on the list that I want to read, and want to read more of, but even were I to read everything I wanted to, I’d have read considerably less than half of the books on the list.

(Sept. 10/07) Edit: I've decided to revist this list from time to time, becasue there are books on this list I plan to read. Edit dates entered in the list refer to date of edit, not date the book was read.

“2000s” )

Read more... )

Read more... )

Read more... )

Read more... )

All told. I’ve read about 175 of the 1,001 on the list - I lost count a couple of times and didn't really want to start over from the beginning.

It’s a flawed list in many ways, although at least it does have books by women and even a few by authors writing outside of the Western European tradition, which makes it better than some I’ve seen. It seems to be more of an author’s list than a booklist, though – for some authors, it lists almost all of their works, even the weaker ones, thus taking up places that might have otherwise have gone to other authors I happen to think are just as noteworthy, and ones that I’m glad I read before I died.

bibliogramma: (Default)

One of the temptations of having a book journal is that you can look back over the year, find reading trends, calculate statistics (if you're that way inclined, and alas, I am), make up "Best of" lists and all sorts of silly stuff. If that kind of thing bores the hell out of Gentle Reader, by all means pass on.

I appear to have read 127 books in 2006, 33 non-fiction and 94 fiction. Of these, 25 were re-reads. Among the fiction writers, 11 authors were new to me. Twenty-two authors are represented by more than one book on my list of books read in 2006.

Among these, 25 percent were written by men, 4 percent were collections or collaborations with authors of both genders, with the balance - 71 percent - of female authorship.

In terms of nationality, 50 percent were written by American authors, 22 percent by authors from the British Isles, 18 percent by Canadian authors and a woeful 6 percent by authors from other countries. Note to self: diversify your reading.

And now, for my top 13 books (the top one-tenth), in alphabetical order by author (I have counted multiple volumes in a series by one author as one entry).

Ring of Swords, Eleanor Arnason
Sweetness in the Belly, Camilla Gibb
The Salt Roads, Nalo Hopkinson
Bold as Love, Gwyneth Jones
The Diviners, Margaret Laurence
Incredible Good Fortune, Ursula K. LeGuin
The Way the Crow Flies by Ann-Marie MacDonald
Carnal Acts, Nancy Mairs
To the Chapel Perilous, Naomi Mitchison
Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities, by Rebecca Solnit
Conquest: Sexual Violence and American Indian Genocide, Andrea Smith
Dreams of the Sea/A Game of Perfection, Elisabeth Vonarburg
The King’s Name/The King’s Peace, Jo Walton

bibliogramma: (Default)

This is the significantly flawed list of the 50 most significant science fiction/fantasy novels, 1953-2002, according to the Science Fiction Book Club. The meme instructions say that one is to bold the ones you've read, strike-out the ones you hated, italicize those you started but never finished, and put an asterisk beside the ones you loved, but just to be annoyingly different, I’m just going to comment on them, because I really hate typing in endless formatting tags.


1. The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien – I’ve read this so many times I’ve lost count, and not only enjoyed it but gained new insights into the characters each time I’ve read it. It’s a masterpiece, and I don’t think anyone can question it’s significance, in terms of sparking a renewal of interest in fantasy and inspiring hundreds of writers, with very mixed results (see my comment on the Pointy Stick of Shitara, er, Shannara below).

2. The Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov – I loved this when I was younger, and read all the sequels, right up to the one where he even managed to tie in The End of Eternity. Now, well – Asimov’s writing is that of the early age of SF, when it was a mostly boys’ club and the ideas and the toys were more important than good writing or good character development. It’s not really my cup of tea anymore.

3. Dune, Frank Herbert – Oh yeah. How could a hippie SF reader not worship one of the first great ecological novels, and how could a political groupie not be swept up in the grand story of how the goals and actions of the elites at the head of all those power blocs are interwoven? The book requires the reader to learn systems analysis. It worked for me.

4. Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert A. Heinlein – I read this in the 60s, and for a while it was a bit of a bible to me. It really was a book of and for the counterculture. I remember when lots of hippies talked about grokking, and shared water, and I suspect that it influenced my development in lots of ways. For instance, I still have a tendency to talk a bit like a Fair Witness.

5. A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin – I worship LeGuin, and the paper she writes on. I’ve read, I think, everything she’s written.

6. Neuromancer, William Gibson – this did not grab when I first read it, and I’m still not sure why, because there’s been a lot of cyberpunk I’ve read since that I really do enjoy. Maybe I was in a weird mood when I read it. Maybe I ought to read it again to see if my thought have changed.

7. Childhood's End, Arthur C. Clarke – One of my all-time childhood favourites, no pun intended.

8. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K Dick – Loved it as a kid, although in retrospect I think some of its depth – the whole philosophical question of what is humanity – probably went right over my head. Another book I’m seriously considering re-reading, particularly since my memory of the book itself has been compromised by my love of the movie based on it.

9. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley – I have mixed feelings about this one. It’s an important modern reimaging of the Arthurian cycle, which means that of course I read it. I enjoyed reading it. I like it. But I’m somewhat uneasy with the treatment of the old religion in it, partly, I think, because Arthurian material has this ambiguity about it, in terms of whether it is in some way true or not. Most writers who attempt to place Arthurian stories into the time period where Arthur would have lived, if he or someone like him did live, usually try to make the cultural details reasonably accurate. But MZB’s old religion comes out of the feminist neo-pagan revival of the old religions, and out of the sometimes questionable scholarship of writers like Merlin Stone, rather than out of what is known and extrapolated about the old religion of the time. It’s a fantasy religion in an otherwise conceivably historic setting for a well-established myth cycle, and there’s something about that combination that I think MZB didn’t get just right.

10. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury – Classic. Important. Must be re-introduced to every new generation (just as the curiously absent 1984 should also be so treated) so that we remember how easy it is to lose one’s history, one’s freedom and one’s culture.

11. The Book of the New Sun, Gene Wolfe – Great work of literary SF, yes. Did I like it? No. Did it nonetheless fascinate me sufficiently to keep me reading the whole tetralogy? Yes.

12. A Canticle for Leibowitz, Walter M. Miller, Jr. – Read it, loved it, thought it was a great look at how religions function – and how spirituality transcends religion.

13. The Caves of Steel, Isaac Asimov – What’s not to enjoy about a detective story with robots?

14. Children of the Atom, Wilmar Shiras – I had to look this one up to be sure I’d read it, because it’s been so long. As it is, I only remember bits of it. It stuck in my mind because when I read it, I was a young child who had been searched out through city-wide psychological testing and brought to a special school with a handful of other kids, where we were to be both educated and studied by teacher-psychologists who were trying to learn more about what made us special. And we all knew, deep in our bones, that there were many other people who didn’t like us or feel comfortable around us, and would ostracise us whenever possible, and hurt us if they could.

15. Cities in Flight, James Blish – Read all four volumes as a kid. Loved them. Thinking of reading them again one day soon to see how they hold up.

16. The Colour of Magic, Terry Pratchett – the first book on the list I haven’t read. I think it was because when it first came out I’d just gotten totally sick of Robert Asprin’s MythAdventure books, and the reviews made me think the Discworld was going to be more of the same. However, I was gifted with one of the later books in the series recently, and quite enjoyed it, so I’ve been thinking about going to the beginning of the series and seeing what else I’ve been missing.

17. Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison – Well worth its reputation.
18. Deathbird Stories, Harlan Ellison – Ellison is Ellison. Back when he was writing really good stories, he may have equals, but no betters.

19. The Demolished Man, Alfred Bester –I read it, but I barely remembered the story, just that it had telepaths and something about murder. Maybe it’s another one I should re-read, in case its deep meaning when over my head when I was young.

20. Dhalgren, Samuel R. Delany – I adore Samuel Delany’s work. In fact, one of his early books, Babel 17, influenced the way I think about language and reality profoundly. When you read Delany at the age of nine, he gets into your brain and stays there; and I’m very glad that he did. That said, I don’t understand Dhalgren, and more than I understand Finnegan’s Wake or Gravity’s Rainbow.

21. Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey -– McCaffrey is one of my guilty pleasures. I read the first Dragons of Pern novels when they first came out, and have continued to read them even though McCaffrey’s sexual politics are problematic to say the least. I permit myself my inconsistencies.

22. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card – I’ve read and enjoyed all of the Ender books, even the new batch where Card is going back and telling the same story all over again from multiple points of view.

23. The First Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, Stephen R. Donaldson – as my partner says, “friends don’t let friends read the Chronicles of Thomas Covenant.” Unfortunately, I had no friends of that calibre when the books came out. I was actually interested enough in the story to read all the volumes, and I rather liked his giants, but, well, I’m disabled myself, and all I can say is that yeah, leprosy is a bummer, but it shouldn’t take three whole fucking novels for you to figure out that it’s still OK to be alive.

24. The Forever War, Joe Haldeman – An amazing book in so many ways. And like so many explorations of the effects of war on the warriors that one can conjecture were in part inspired by the disaster that was the US experience in Vietnam, it’s all too relevant again today.

25. Gateway, Frederik Pohl – Not one of my favourites. I actually preferred Pohl’s collaborations with C.M Kornbuth to many of the books he wrote alone.

26. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling – Yes, I’ve read Harry Potter. All of it to date. And it’s fun. But I’m not sure why it’s on this list. Other than because it’s made shitloads of money. Maybe because it’s made reading an acceptable think for kids to do – not that it ever was. Those who deplore the lack of interest in books among today’s youth forget that kids have, with few exceptions, never read books, and have always tormented the small numbers of kids who do. Harry Potter will pass, as other book fads have in the past, and kids will go back to beating up kids who read books instead. Few societies are, or ever have been, actively literate, and I’m not really sure that’s ever going to change. For influential post-1953 children’s SF, I think Madeleine L’Engle is a more appropriate choice in terms of significance to the field of SF.

27. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams – Read all five volumes, although the last one isn’t as brilliant as the others. Loved them. Often quote them.

28. I Am Legend, Richard Matheson – post-apocalyptic vampires! Woo-hoo. Lots of fun, but I’m not sure what’s so incredibly significant about it.

29. Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice – Yes, I do like vampires. No, I am not particularly fond of Anne Rice. Yes, I did read the first couple of her vampire novels. Interview was OK, The Vampire Lestat is IMO her best, and the others… not so much.

30. The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin – I think it’s hard for people now to remember what an innovative, challenging, and even for some people dangerous novel this was when it was first published. Yes, people had been challenging gender roles and writing about alien ways of being sexual for some time (Sturgeon, Mitchison, Delany just to name a few), but LeGuin pulled it all together and put it right out where there was no avoiding the issue.

31. Little, Big, John Crowley – the second book on the list that I have no read, and I really cannot tell you why. I’ve gone and read some reviews, and I now think I ought to give it a try – I think it might suit my tastes more now than it might have when it was first published.

32. Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny – I’m not sure why I’m not fond of Zelazny’s work. He often starts from source material that I’m deeply interested in – Vedic sources in The Lord of Light, and my beloved Arthurian material in parts of the Amber Chronicles. But I just don’t.

33. The Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick – I enjoyed but wasn’t crazy over this book as a kid, but suspect that it may have been a bit over my head. I think I’m going to reread this one, too.

34. Mission of Gravity, Hal Clement – An interesting story from what I remember, which isn’t all that much. It may be one of the earlier examples of serious worldbuilding in which both scientific and internal consistency is carefully considered, which may be why it’s here – certainly, I can’t think of many earlier examples of setting a story in a world that works differently on all levels, but still makes sense once you understand the :rules.”

35. More Than Human, Theodore Sturgeon – Sturgeon changed things. He was one of the first “big name” writers (i.e., male and American) to break out of the boys’ club model and write about feelings, psychology, passion, and all that messy gurlz stuff. I might have picked one of his other works, or maybe just any stort story collection that has “The World Well Lost” in it, but let’s not quibble. Sturgeon belongs here, and picking the exact work is kind of irrelevant.

36. The Rediscovery of Man, Cordwainer Smith – It’s difficult for me to say whether I’ve read this book or not. In looking it up, I learned that this is a collection of all of Cordwainer Smith’s Instrumentality works. Have I read this precise book? No. Have I read all of the Instrumentality stories, and much else of his as well? – you bet.

37. On the Beach, Nevil Shute – I think this was the only book that can be categorised as SF that Shute ever wrote. I’ve read much of his other fiction as well (A Town named Alice, No Highway, Beyond the Black Stump, and so on). This is, of course, the great apocalyptic novel (in Shute’s envisioning of a nuclear war there would be no post-apocalypse).

38. Rendezvous with Rama, Arthur C. Clarke – Eh. Good story, interesting science, but I wouldn’t have called it one for the ages. There are other books by Clarke that are more significant, assuming you want to put two of his books on the list rather than acknowledging, say, a significant female on non-anglophone SF writer.

39. Ringworld, Larry Niven – Cool idea, fun book, I guess it’s a classic. I tend to not be as excited about hard SF unless there’s a lot of character development and soft science in there as well. I actually prefer the books Niven wrote with Jerry Pournelle to most of his later works, anyway.

40. Rogue Moon, Algis Budrys – I barely remembered reading this book, and had to look it up to be sure it was the book I thought it was. That said, the overall concept was striking enough to stick in my brain for a very long time. The first statement of the now-classic “transporter” problem – who is the “real” person – the original, or the transported copy?

41. The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien – I have read this almost as many times as I’ve read The Lord of the Rings.

42. Slaughterhouse-5, Kurt Vonnegut – Vonnegut sometimes annoys me, and I vastly prefer his short stories to his novels. But I won’t argue with this, it’s a significant and influential book, and if you are going to read one Vonnegut novel, this should probably be it. (But don’t forget the short stories!)

43. Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson – The last of the books on the list I haven’t read. Not sure why, hthe reviews just didn’t grab me.

44. Stand on Zanzibar, John Brunner – Certainly a fine dystopic novel, and if I remember correctly was one of the first major SF novels to use a really experimental style. I remember it being a bit of a tough read, but worth it. I’m thinking I might want to reread both this and his other great dystopian novel, The Shhep Look Up.

45. The Stars My Destination, Alfred Bester – Like the other Bester novel on the list, I had to look it up to make sure I had the right book in mind. Bester’s work did not seem to stick in my mind.

46. Starship Troopers, Robert A. Heinlein – I’ve read all the Heinlein there is. So of course I’ve read this. I have a very complex relationship with Heinlein and his work, and it’s gone through many changes. I rather enjoyed Starship Troopers for its story, but as with a number of Heinlein’s books, I wasn’t all that fond of his political arguments. Plus, I think The Moon is a Harsh Mistress is a better book.

47. Stormbringer, Michael Moorcock – Moorcock has never been one of my favourite fantasy writers. And while I read the whole Elric saga, I’m not all that keen to go back and read it again. Can’t tell you why, just not my cup of tea.

48. The Sword of Shannara, Terry Brooks – Yes, I read it – at least some of it. I’m not sure at this long remvove, but it may have been one of the few books I didn’t bother finishing. I thought it might be good. It wasn’t. And it brought forth that nauseating slew of paint-by-numbers fantasies where elves and dwarves and whatever other characters the author has stolen from Tolkien all behave like hollow stereotypes and… well, I won’t go on. This was the first and last Terry Brooks Tolkien pastiche I read.

49. Timescape, Gregory Benford – Another book that I wasn’t sure I’d actually read until I looked up some reviews. Obviously I did not find if significant or influential.

50. To Your Scattered Bodies Go, Philip Jose Farmer – Yeah, I read the Riverworld books. Like a lot of Farmer’s series, it started out intriguing and them went downhill. Farmer’s another one of those writers I have a complicated relationship with. Like Sturgeon, he was a big part of the 1950s maturation process in North American SF – I mean, his first published story was “The Lovers.” And I can get very much drawn into his Wold Newton families “fictional history”– you know, the one where Sherlock Holmes, Tarzan, Fu Manchu, Bulldog Drummond, James Bond and at least a dozen other fictional characters are all the descendants of a small group of travellers whose coach was exposed to radiation from an asteroid that landed at Wold Newton in the late 18th century. But he tends, I think, to try to include too much in some of his works, and they can get tedious.

The flaws in this list should be obvious. The list is hardly representative of the influential SF novels written in the past 50 years by women, by non-Americans, by non-anglophones. This may be the list of most influential mostly American white boy SF writers with a few women and Brits and Samuel Delany thrown in so we don't look like it's just about American white boys, but it's not a list of the most influential SF books of the past 50 years.

So, who would you add to the list (let's not worry about tossing anyone off, although I'd gladly jettison Shannara and Harry Potter right now)?

Books I'd definitely want to see on the list include:

Joanna Russ, The Female Man
James Tiptree Jr, just about anything - how about a collection containing "The Women Men Don't See," "Houston, Do You Read?," "The Last Flight of Dr. Ain," "Your Faces, O My Sisters! Your Faces Full of Light!" among just a few.
Anthony Burgess, A Clockwork Orange
Octavia Butler, Xenogenesis
Peter S Beagle, either A Fine and Private Place or The Last Unicorn
Neil Gaiman, The Sandman graphic novels

That's off the top of my head, and I'm sure there's more if I think a while.

bibliogramma: (Default)

One of the books I'm reading just now is John Marino's The Grail Legend in Modern Literature. He opens his introduction with a reference to Naomi Mitchison's To the Chapel Perilous. One of Mitchison's other books is Memoirs of a Spacewoman, which made a deep impression on me as a young girl, and since [personal profile] wolfinthewood recommended it, I've been hunting around for a copy of To the Chapel Perilous.

Marino, in discussing Mitchison, makes note of the fact that another Arthurian scholar, Raymond H. Thompson, has been collecting interviews with modern authors of Arthurian literature, including Mitchison, over the past two decades. Ray Thompson was my mentor in grad school.

Coincidences like this amuse and delight me to no end, whether it be the way the books I read cross my "real" life in some way, or simply how the books I choose to read, often more or less at random, relate to each other.

For instance, a couple of years ago, I was reading a history of women's lives in colonial Upper Canada, and while looking at the acknowledgments, realised that one of my colleagues at work had been one of the author's grad students and had assisted with the research.

And then there's the delightful coincidence from earlier this year, in which I read a passage in Tariq Ali's Street-fighting Years in which he mentions meeting C.L.R.James, the author of The Black Jacobins: Toussaint L'Ouverture and the San Domingo Revolution, a classic Marxist historical analysis of the Haitian Slave Revolt in the context of the French Revolution - which was in fact at that very moment sitting in my pile of "to-be-read-soon" books, as was Nalo Hopkinson's The Salt Roads, a portion of which, as I discovered soon thereafter, is set among the participants in an earlier and unsuccessful wave of Haitian uprisings.

I wonder what the English-language literary equivalent of "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" would be - six degrees of Isaac Asimov? Georges Simenon? Barbara Cartland?

bibliogramma: (Default)

I have lost count of the number of times in my life that I have had to liquidate a personal library because I had to move and there was no way I could manage moving all those books.

I've decided I'm not ever doing that again - culling, maybe, but not liquidating. I've reached the point in my life where I can bloody well afford to pay some heavily-muscled movers with large truck to hoist the mountains of boxes of books and transport tham from one place to another.

So I've begun a project of reaquisitioning - making lists of the books I remember from all those times when I just ached to part with a book, and trying to restore to my current library the treasures and gems from the distant past.

The first of these reacquired lost treasures: Naomi Mitchison's Memoirs of a Spacewoman.

Bounce, bounce.

Profile

bibliogramma: (Default)
bibliogramma

May 2019

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
2627282930 31 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 7th, 2025 09:43 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios