It appears to have been some time...
Mar. 28th, 2007 09:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hawkwing_lbWell. A week is a long time in politics, as the saying goes, and it has been somewhat longer than that since I last looked upon the face of Livejournal. Or, indeed, the internets.
Odd, that. I appear to have been rather overcome by the multitude of interpersonal interactions that I failed to avoid during my Polish holiday, so much so that I have been unable to face even the minimal interactions required by using this system of tubes. I retreated, in short, to something of a Fortress of Solitude, and read books and played Final Fantasy XII to the exclusion and detriment of other perhaps more useful and certainly more necessary activities.*
This last little while has included twenty books, and precious little else.
Fiction 40-60, Books 42-62.
40, 41, 42. Jim Butcher, Fool Moon, Grave Peril, Summer Knight. Entertaining. Light. Passed a plane flight fairly quickly. No, I can't remember many details.
43. Arturo Perez-Reverte, The Purity of Blood. Excellent. Historical fiction, set in 17th century Madrid. Swordfights. Intrigue. Bullfights.
44, 45, 46. Victoria Thompson, Murder on St. Mark's Place, Murder on Gramercy Park, Murder on Washington Square. Mysteries set in turn-of-the-nineteenth-century New York, involving a midwife and a policeman. Entertaining. Light. Excellent world-building. Becoming less predictable.
47, 48, 49. Kathy Lynn Emerson, Face Down Upon an Herbal, Face Down Below the Banqueting House, Face Down Beside St. Anne's Well. Diverting series of Elizabethan murder mysteries. Not always well-written, but with excellent worldbuilding. I approve.
50, 51, 52, 53. Barbara Hambly, A Free Man of Color, Fever Season, Sold Down the River, Die Upon a Kiss.
If I had the time, I would go into raptures over Hambly's Benjamin January mysteries. The short version is that they are most assuredly excellent, in worldbuilding, characterisation and the construction of the mystery plot. They are, in fact, seriously good. But alas, I do not have time to further praise their merits.
54, 55, 56, 57. Steven Brust, Five Hundred Years After, The Paths of the Dead, The Lord of Castle Black, Sethra Lavode.
Brust is an artist of the highest caliber. Although the style of Paarfi of Roundwood grows tiresome at times, these books are endlessly amusing, and when one disengages from the story itself to look at all the cool shit he's doing with form and style, as well... Well. It's seriously cool shit.
58. P. C. Hodgell, Godstalk.
This book is, quite frankly, amazing. It takes nearly every possible cliché available to the fantasy genre, and if not turning them on their heads, then uses them in such ways that the clichés... aren't. I loved it, and despite my ever-increasing poverty (yes, I know. The reason for my ever-increasing poverty is my addiction to books) have immediately sent off for books two and three. Wonderfully excellent.
59. Nina Kiriki Hoffman, The Thread That Binds The Bones.
Also amazing, but in different ways. I think I've reread it twice in the little while I've had it, though I'm not sure how to describe it. It is, I think, a marvellously kind book. Not kind in the sense that the world it deals with is gentle: in fact, rather the opposite. But kind in the sense that it depicts even the monsters with human faces as both understandable, and, in some senses, redeemable. I'm not sure I agree with it, but I like it.
60. Lilith Saintcrow, The Society. A diverting tale of desperation and daring-do. Don't approve of my alliteration? That's alright: I don't, either, and it's only a half-accurate description. There's love affairs and telepathy in there, too. I quite liked it, enough to desire (if not to acquire) its sequel.
And now I must go decide whether I can afford to rearrange my bookshelves before doing essays, or whether I ought attempt to put an end to all this rather desparate displacement activity, instead.
*contemplates essay*
*wibbles*
More displacement activity first, I think. Perhaps I can trick myself into the essay tomorrow.
*Such as eating. And sleeping. And writing college essays, which - oh dear - are due next Monday.
Odd, that. I appear to have been rather overcome by the multitude of interpersonal interactions that I failed to avoid during my Polish holiday, so much so that I have been unable to face even the minimal interactions required by using this system of tubes. I retreated, in short, to something of a Fortress of Solitude, and read books and played Final Fantasy XII to the exclusion and detriment of other perhaps more useful and certainly more necessary activities.*
This last little while has included twenty books, and precious little else.
Fiction 40-60, Books 42-62.
40, 41, 42. Jim Butcher, Fool Moon, Grave Peril, Summer Knight. Entertaining. Light. Passed a plane flight fairly quickly. No, I can't remember many details.
43. Arturo Perez-Reverte, The Purity of Blood. Excellent. Historical fiction, set in 17th century Madrid. Swordfights. Intrigue. Bullfights.
44, 45, 46. Victoria Thompson, Murder on St. Mark's Place, Murder on Gramercy Park, Murder on Washington Square. Mysteries set in turn-of-the-nineteenth-century New York, involving a midwife and a policeman. Entertaining. Light. Excellent world-building. Becoming less predictable.
47, 48, 49. Kathy Lynn Emerson, Face Down Upon an Herbal, Face Down Below the Banqueting House, Face Down Beside St. Anne's Well. Diverting series of Elizabethan murder mysteries. Not always well-written, but with excellent worldbuilding. I approve.
50, 51, 52, 53. Barbara Hambly, A Free Man of Color, Fever Season, Sold Down the River, Die Upon a Kiss.
If I had the time, I would go into raptures over Hambly's Benjamin January mysteries. The short version is that they are most assuredly excellent, in worldbuilding, characterisation and the construction of the mystery plot. They are, in fact, seriously good. But alas, I do not have time to further praise their merits.
54, 55, 56, 57. Steven Brust, Five Hundred Years After, The Paths of the Dead, The Lord of Castle Black, Sethra Lavode.
Brust is an artist of the highest caliber. Although the style of Paarfi of Roundwood grows tiresome at times, these books are endlessly amusing, and when one disengages from the story itself to look at all the cool shit he's doing with form and style, as well... Well. It's seriously cool shit.
58. P. C. Hodgell, Godstalk.
This book is, quite frankly, amazing. It takes nearly every possible cliché available to the fantasy genre, and if not turning them on their heads, then uses them in such ways that the clichés... aren't. I loved it, and despite my ever-increasing poverty (yes, I know. The reason for my ever-increasing poverty is my addiction to books) have immediately sent off for books two and three. Wonderfully excellent.
59. Nina Kiriki Hoffman, The Thread That Binds The Bones.
Also amazing, but in different ways. I think I've reread it twice in the little while I've had it, though I'm not sure how to describe it. It is, I think, a marvellously kind book. Not kind in the sense that the world it deals with is gentle: in fact, rather the opposite. But kind in the sense that it depicts even the monsters with human faces as both understandable, and, in some senses, redeemable. I'm not sure I agree with it, but I like it.
60. Lilith Saintcrow, The Society. A diverting tale of desperation and daring-do. Don't approve of my alliteration? That's alright: I don't, either, and it's only a half-accurate description. There's love affairs and telepathy in there, too. I quite liked it, enough to desire (if not to acquire) its sequel.
And now I must go decide whether I can afford to rearrange my bookshelves before doing essays, or whether I ought attempt to put an end to all this rather desparate displacement activity, instead.
*contemplates essay*
*wibbles*
More displacement activity first, I think. Perhaps I can trick myself into the essay tomorrow.
*Such as eating. And sleeping. And writing college essays, which - oh dear - are due next Monday.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 07:10 pm (UTC)Erm. *g* One of my favorite authors, as you can tell.
Also, have you tried R.A. MacAvoy? Damiano (first book of a trilogy) and the duology Tea With the Black Dragon and Twisting the Rope are superb.
Not that I think you ought to spend more money on books. ::whistles::
no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 07:17 pm (UTC)I haven't ever heard of R.A. MacAvoy, and since I am so deep in hock it's long since ceased being even vaguely amusing, I don't thank you for bringing more books to my attention.
Perhaps, in some distant future, when I'm wealthy... :)
no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 07:45 pm (UTC)To the future, then. *g* And the library; I'm wanting more Perez-Reverte, now.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 07:45 pm (UTC)::kicks LJ::
no subject
Date: 2007-04-07 07:50 pm (UTC)