50-Book Challenge 2009: Books 1-10
Books read 2009
01. Wyrd Sisters, Terry Pratchett - a reread in honour of Sir Terry's exaltation. One of the best of the Discworld novels, tying in witches, royalty, missing heirs, hidden crowns, New Agers, the complete works of Shakespeare, the Marx Brothers, and - well, pretty much anything else that Terry felt like chucking into the mix.
02. Friday's Child, Georgette Heyer - a reread as a result of a bout of illness that left me able to do very little other than revisit old favourites. Spoilt, thoughtless Sherry, on being rejected by the woman of his choice, determines to marry the next woman he sees. The next woman he sees is 16-year-old Hero, who has been in love with him from childhood. Sherry finds that it's he, rather than Hero, who has a lot of growing up to do.
03. Silent in the Grave, Deanna Raybourn - flawed (mostly in the way of Americanisms and non-period language) but immensely readable Victorian whodunnit. The opening line - "To say that I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor" - certainly commands the attention. One wonders, however, having thrown dastardly poisons, brooding Gypsies, a stolen Tower raven and dealings with an upper-class bordello into the mix, just what the author has saved up for the remainder of the series. Since book 2 is on my birthday wishlist, no doubt I shall find out.
04. The Sibyl in Her Grave, Sarah Caudwell - it took me some time (living as I do in seclusion) to realise this book existed, it having been some ten years since the author's previous work, and, having found it, I then put off reading it, knowing that there will be no more from this writer. Even though she wrote only four novels, her death was a profound loss, not only in itself but also in that it deprives us forever of learning more of Julia, Selina, Ragwort, Cantrip, Timothy and the eternally mysterious and genderless Professor Hilary Tamar.
The book itself? Lovely, cosy, funny, clever, erudite, and ultimately deeply satisfying. It is the way of the world, I suppose, that an author like this should have written so little, when others who shall be nameless have written far too much.
05. A Model World, Michael Chabon - a short story collection; the first six are standalones, building on themes of adolescence, relationships, ethics and disillusionment, whilst the final five focus on the elder son of a family on the brink, and then in the process, of divorce and examine his feelings and its effect on him. Awkwardness and discomfort are among the main themes. A lot like life, then.
06. The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters, G W Dahlquist - if I were in a good mood, I would call this a sprawling behemoth of a novel. If I were not, I would refer to it as maundering tosh. In either case I can tell you for a fact that I got bored and skipped about 200 pages (as it's over 700 pages long, I'm still counting it as 'read', if only for the hours I'll never get back), and still managed to keep up with the plot. This is largely because it's written from three points of view, and any time the characters meet they are at pains to tell one another what's been happening in their particular story thread, usually in some detail. Somewhere within those 700 pages there is material for a halfway decent graphic novel. Elsewhere there is a heck of a lot of padding. Oh, and here and there some would-be erotic bits, apparently thrown in at random, and which have all the effect of a five-year-old messing with himself at the dinner table. Yes, dear, very shocking, now put it away and eat your sprouts.
07. Od Magic, Patricia A McKillip - after the previous book I was in the mood for something nice, and I'd been saving this for about a year so it seemed as good a time as any. It's not the most plot-driven of McKillip's works by a long chalk - there isn't even really an antagonist; people are foolish, blinkered, misguided, but not actually bad - but it was, as one expects from this author, a lovely, enchanting read, lyrically written and peopled with characters one would not at all mind spending one's life with. (By the way, although I can figure out most of what's going on in the cover art, I am at a loss to account for the man in what appears to be a diver's helmet in the upper left-hand corner.)
08. Jill Has Two Ponies, Ruby Ferguson - I am gradually collecting early editions of the Jill books, trying to do so without bankrupting myself; this is an extremely scruffy 1963 Armada reprint, but at least free from cigarette excision, decimal currency, or PC renaming. This is the third in the series, and the one in which Jill acquires her second pony, Rapide, although that really isn't the main storyline at all - it's mostly about Jill and her friends trying to keep their favourite riding stables in business. I scoffed it all up in about an hour flat, and loved every word. Possibly these count as re-reads, but after 40-odd years … not so much, I say.
09. Rosettes for Jill, Ruby Ferguson - there is always a slight moral dilemma in these books, since, being Properly Sporting, Jill and her friends strongly decry 'beastly pot-hunters' … but, on the other hand, if Our Heroine doesn't win a few ribbons then it rather undermines our belief in her riding ability. Anyway, this is mostly about poor Jill being, yet again, lumbered with a couple of un-horsey visitors - Jill is even more fannish about horses than most of us are fannish about fandom - who very soon decide that anything she can do, they can do, and better. The results are inevitable. There is a worrying moment for Black Boy here, but don't worry, he's all right.
10. A Stable for Jill, Ruby Ferguson - in the second book of the series, Jill is separated from her home and her beloved Black Boy when her mother, who writes horribly twee but apparently very successful novels about a series of sickeningly saintlike children, much to Jill's disgust, goes on a signing tour of the US and Jill is sent to stay with posh Aunt Primrose and Cousin Cecilia - who doesn't ride, but knows she'd be good at it if she wanted to. Jill being Jill, she wastes no time in finding a local family mourning the imminent loss of their beloved pony Ballerina, and then in galvanising them into turning their home (which happens to be a vicarage) into a commercially successful riding stable. I suspect that in real life a group of under-15s might not really find this worked out all that well - plus, wouldn't there be taxes and things? - but real life is boring. I would quite happily live in pony-book-fantasy-world, if given the option. Although I fear I would be lumped in with the dreadful Cecilia, so maybe not.
01. Wyrd Sisters, Terry Pratchett - a reread in honour of Sir Terry's exaltation. One of the best of the Discworld novels, tying in witches, royalty, missing heirs, hidden crowns, New Agers, the complete works of Shakespeare, the Marx Brothers, and - well, pretty much anything else that Terry felt like chucking into the mix.
02. Friday's Child, Georgette Heyer - a reread as a result of a bout of illness that left me able to do very little other than revisit old favourites. Spoilt, thoughtless Sherry, on being rejected by the woman of his choice, determines to marry the next woman he sees. The next woman he sees is 16-year-old Hero, who has been in love with him from childhood. Sherry finds that it's he, rather than Hero, who has a lot of growing up to do.
03. Silent in the Grave, Deanna Raybourn - flawed (mostly in the way of Americanisms and non-period language) but immensely readable Victorian whodunnit. The opening line - "To say that I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor" - certainly commands the attention. One wonders, however, having thrown dastardly poisons, brooding Gypsies, a stolen Tower raven and dealings with an upper-class bordello into the mix, just what the author has saved up for the remainder of the series. Since book 2 is on my birthday wishlist, no doubt I shall find out.
04. The Sibyl in Her Grave, Sarah Caudwell - it took me some time (living as I do in seclusion) to realise this book existed, it having been some ten years since the author's previous work, and, having found it, I then put off reading it, knowing that there will be no more from this writer. Even though she wrote only four novels, her death was a profound loss, not only in itself but also in that it deprives us forever of learning more of Julia, Selina, Ragwort, Cantrip, Timothy and the eternally mysterious and genderless Professor Hilary Tamar.
The book itself? Lovely, cosy, funny, clever, erudite, and ultimately deeply satisfying. It is the way of the world, I suppose, that an author like this should have written so little, when others who shall be nameless have written far too much.
05. A Model World, Michael Chabon - a short story collection; the first six are standalones, building on themes of adolescence, relationships, ethics and disillusionment, whilst the final five focus on the elder son of a family on the brink, and then in the process, of divorce and examine his feelings and its effect on him. Awkwardness and discomfort are among the main themes. A lot like life, then.
06. The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters, G W Dahlquist - if I were in a good mood, I would call this a sprawling behemoth of a novel. If I were not, I would refer to it as maundering tosh. In either case I can tell you for a fact that I got bored and skipped about 200 pages (as it's over 700 pages long, I'm still counting it as 'read', if only for the hours I'll never get back), and still managed to keep up with the plot. This is largely because it's written from three points of view, and any time the characters meet they are at pains to tell one another what's been happening in their particular story thread, usually in some detail. Somewhere within those 700 pages there is material for a halfway decent graphic novel. Elsewhere there is a heck of a lot of padding. Oh, and here and there some would-be erotic bits, apparently thrown in at random, and which have all the effect of a five-year-old messing with himself at the dinner table. Yes, dear, very shocking, now put it away and eat your sprouts.
07. Od Magic, Patricia A McKillip - after the previous book I was in the mood for something nice, and I'd been saving this for about a year so it seemed as good a time as any. It's not the most plot-driven of McKillip's works by a long chalk - there isn't even really an antagonist; people are foolish, blinkered, misguided, but not actually bad - but it was, as one expects from this author, a lovely, enchanting read, lyrically written and peopled with characters one would not at all mind spending one's life with. (By the way, although I can figure out most of what's going on in the cover art, I am at a loss to account for the man in what appears to be a diver's helmet in the upper left-hand corner.)
08. Jill Has Two Ponies, Ruby Ferguson - I am gradually collecting early editions of the Jill books, trying to do so without bankrupting myself; this is an extremely scruffy 1963 Armada reprint, but at least free from cigarette excision, decimal currency, or PC renaming. This is the third in the series, and the one in which Jill acquires her second pony, Rapide, although that really isn't the main storyline at all - it's mostly about Jill and her friends trying to keep their favourite riding stables in business. I scoffed it all up in about an hour flat, and loved every word. Possibly these count as re-reads, but after 40-odd years … not so much, I say.
09. Rosettes for Jill, Ruby Ferguson - there is always a slight moral dilemma in these books, since, being Properly Sporting, Jill and her friends strongly decry 'beastly pot-hunters' … but, on the other hand, if Our Heroine doesn't win a few ribbons then it rather undermines our belief in her riding ability. Anyway, this is mostly about poor Jill being, yet again, lumbered with a couple of un-horsey visitors - Jill is even more fannish about horses than most of us are fannish about fandom - who very soon decide that anything she can do, they can do, and better. The results are inevitable. There is a worrying moment for Black Boy here, but don't worry, he's all right.
10. A Stable for Jill, Ruby Ferguson - in the second book of the series, Jill is separated from her home and her beloved Black Boy when her mother, who writes horribly twee but apparently very successful novels about a series of sickeningly saintlike children, much to Jill's disgust, goes on a signing tour of the US and Jill is sent to stay with posh Aunt Primrose and Cousin Cecilia - who doesn't ride, but knows she'd be good at it if she wanted to. Jill being Jill, she wastes no time in finding a local family mourning the imminent loss of their beloved pony Ballerina, and then in galvanising them into turning their home (which happens to be a vicarage) into a commercially successful riding stable. I suspect that in real life a group of under-15s might not really find this worked out all that well - plus, wouldn't there be taxes and things? - but real life is boring. I would quite happily live in pony-book-fantasy-world, if given the option. Although I fear I would be lumped in with the dreadful Cecilia, so maybe not.