Prisoner of Heaven

Or Shadow of the Wind Part 3, or Cemetery of Forgotten Books vol III, or Angel’s Game Part 2. Whatever it is called, it is Carlos Ruiz Zafon’s third book in a gothic series relating Barcelona post-Spanish-Civil-War to a family struggling to maintain a bookstore, a real awesome cemetery of forgotten books (which is like a library of Holy Grail conditioned books banished from contemporary society for any number of reasons), and the Sempere family. Though the series started out with one of the best books of the last ten years, and I am not exaggerating to reinforce my point on the other two, the books that followed just didn’t seem to contain the same awesome crime-mystery-thick plotlines with great points on the wickedness of people keeping secrets, the twisted nature of war and its longterm affects, and the general magic with which Zafon writes. It was almost as if the second two were written by another person trying to cash in on the fame of the writer of the first one.

Anyway, this book deals a lot with the same family we were introduced to in the first book, only at a much later time. Daniel is all grown up now and is a father. Fermin is looking to get married to Bernarda and the bookstore is, predictably, struggling. Fermin’s wedding prompts the issue we were introduced to in the first book but didn’t worry too much about, his fake name. His lack of real identity. His true identity cannot be known because he changed it during the civil war and for all intents and purposes became this Fermin Romero de Torres.

 So he tells Daniel why he did it, and that story becomes the plot, or most of it, for this book. It covers his time in prison during the conflict (or shortly after the war, I am not really familiar with the history of Spain), and his time in a cell across from the guy who is the main character of the second book. Not only does this plot totally try to mindfuck what the reader thought was going on in the second book (if you haven’t read it yet, The Angel’s Game, don’t bother, as The Prisoner of Heaven suggests none of it happened that way anyway), but it also weaves its way into about a 100pg section recreating the prison scene of The Count of Monte Cristo.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely agree with Mr. Ruiz Zafon, The Count of Monte Cristo is one of if not thee greatest book written in modern literature. But you can’t just take a scene from it (which, since it’s a 1,000 pg book, each scene is a novel or novella in itself) and use it as the plot for a modern day book. It just doesn’t work. It also doesn’t if you’re trying to tie into another book in your series but without really tying into it, just saying “that whole time you that this was happening…well that was happening.”

Aside from all my whining, it is a good book, just with a weak plot. Its greatest flaws are that Carlos Ruiz Zafon wrote an absolutely mind-blowingly good novel in Book I of this series, The Shadow of the Wind, and each book since has disappointed fans of him and the series; and other flaws include the aforementioned Alexandre Dumas tribute gone wrong and a plot that just doesn’t amount to much. I meant the villains in the story meet unexpected ends but not in a way you’d dramatically, climactically hope for, especially after reading The Shadow of the Wind.

And apparently, Carlos is Espain's answer to Karl Pilkington

My ultimate review comes down to this: Read  the series thus far in reverse. And let me know, when you get to The Shadow of the Wind, if you liked it as much as me. Seems you will, as each book will build to that magic moment in literary history (it was good beyond description…every sentence was so well thought out and placed and written I couldn’t do it justice with a review here, honest!), until you reach the punch line or “ah-ha!” moment of it all. Just, someone, for the sake of literature and recommendations, please try it. So I can know if that’s how I should recommend these books to friends. Because I have unfortunately made a friend read The Shadow of the Wind not long after I read it and he still has not picked up a copy of the others. I could be ousted as a good source of recommendations if I tell him to continue the series…

The Man Who Was Thursday – A Nightmare

Remember that kids. A nightmare. It is important.

So G.K. Chesterton was a big guy who threw his weight around and liked to use rhetoric to argue with people, on all points concerning mankind and society, until he died? A man after my own heart. Truly. I picked this book up because I had found it and subsequently purchased a copy after I learned it makes its way into Neil Gaiman’s top 10 books. That he has read. In his life! That has some notoriety to it. Not that I would read all books on his list, he described one as a “slow version of Dickens’ Bleak House” and I nearly fell over with exhaustion just imagining it.

And some background on Gilbert Keith: He was a massive man, joked about it, wrote a lot about politics and religious apologetics, also wrote poetry, mystery, fantasy and spent the rest of his time arguing philosophies with George Bernard Shaw. Shaw was a modernist, and Chesterton an orthodox Catholic. But they had very spirited bouts and always remained great friends. Wish we could do that more now days. I mean I can, I don’t care who believes what, just as long as we all are good humoured about it and the views of others.

Anyway he wrote The Man Who Was Thursday as a detective novel where people are recruited into an anti-anarchist wing of Scotland Yard’s detective agency and must use their wit to infiltrate the ring of anarchists known to be amongst commoners in London, but operating out of the London Underground. The plot follows Gabriel Syme, who outwits a man named Gregory, who is an anarchist trying to prove to Syme that they are a real force to be reckoned with. Syme must protect his own identity, however, and accomplishes this by suggesting Gregory isn’t a good enough anarchist at a secret meeting Gregory drags him to where they are voting on a new leader of their local chapter, which happens to be a position in the council of 7 and is code-named Thursday. He uses leverage to speak to the council and gives such a great speech, condemning Gregory, that he wins the vote. Syme is going to be Mr. Thursday!

 

Once at these meetings of the 7, Syme learns something awful, however. That they no longer believe in keeping anarchy a secret, and instead believe the best way to appear harmless if for the heads to appear right out in the open. Has to make the detective nervous. What’s worse? (SPOILER ALERT!) Syme learns quickly that five of the seven member are also secret detectives like him, policemen from Scotland Yard sent to infiltrate the Council.

Even more mindblowing is that they learn all this as they come together, and figure out that a real anarchist revolution is going on without them, whilst they are busy hunting each other down in the woods trying to point out members that are actual anarchists. Turns out none of them are! And the anarchists move on with an insane plan, leaving them all hopeless and desperate.

In the end, Sunday is revealed as Gregory, only masked, and tells them all that his people are the ones who have suffered, hence the revolt. But good Syme responds with a “you don’t know what I just went through, what I experienced, what I suffered” speech and caps it off with a quote from Jesus: “can ye drink of the cup that I drink of?” Bravo G.K. Nightmare over. Book end.

I thought it was a nice, short and simple story with great post-Victorian British humour and rhetoric. I don’t know when I aged 120 years and started enjoying that stuff, my guess is sometime after my first go at Dickens’ Bleak House, but I really do like that stuff. If it’s not for you, it’s not for you. Otherwise, it is a fairly entertaining nightmare.

Pavane

Geez a month since I last blogged here, what the fuck has been up? Oh yeah, illness, work, travel and holidays. Sorry folks. Enjoy my review of this one though, I loved this book.

Keith Roberts wrote Pavane in 1968 as an alternate history if Queen Elizabeth was assassinated before England’s big battle with Spain and the Spanish Armada won; hence the Catholic Church ruled, Protestantism never began; hence technological developments and indeed all progression of human development was done only with the oversight of the Church. Need I say more?

It is a collection of short stories, or a novel told in small parts, all of which intertwine of course and have a few common denominators: the power of the Church, stunted technological growth (i.e. no electricity), the mechanical wooden semaphore towers and their Guild, feudal system, and the family of Eli Strange and his hauliers business of steam engine hauling cars.

I had no idea what a steam engine car looked like either. Makes sense though.

The Catholic Church being the sole source of knowledge, progress and science in a much less than preferred society was very reminiscent of one of my all-time favourite books: A Canticle for Leibowitz. It’s Dark Ages, monks abound and people fight and torment themselves in a helpless, hopeless, heart-wrenching quest for progress. Sad, but the empathy seems to come easy for characters fighting these fights.

The rebellion is also a thrilling factor. Or should I say, the Rebellion, as you seemingly cannot find anything about this book without someone quoting the first page’s brilliance:

"Over all, the long arm of the Popes reached out to punish and reward; the Church Militant remained supreme. But by the middle of the twentieth century widespread mutterings were making themselves heard. Rebellion was once more in the air . . ."

Brother John, who when I read this immediately thought of my new musical hero Father John Misty, is a monk tasked with witnessing and transcribing the acts of punishment to witches conducted by the contemporary equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition, referred to in this book simply as the Inquisition.  The torture scenes, for that is what they really are, become almost too much to bare, and are more violent and obscene than just about anything I have read lately, including 200 pages of Cormac McCarthy’s masturbation material, but is over and done with fairly quickly (maybe 3 pages) and helps shape Brother John into one of the most powerful, demented (yet not quite powerfully demented) heretics I have ever come to know in the world of books.

There is really nothing more fascinating to me than human beings behaving like non-human beings. It’s really a something I could study the rest of my life. Holy wars, for example. Totally awful behavior. But torturing people who speak out against your beliefs, or either just do not believe, quite innocently, or simply do not believe hard enough. That takes it to a whole new level. Incredibly awful stuff, and Roberts conveys it in a very meaningful way. Violent, yes, but not so much that you lose your lunch and have another 100 pages of baby impalement to get through after ten hours of stomach churning gore. Do I sound like I’m still bitter about Blood Meridian? Good.

The book also incorporates a feudal war. As a bit of a nerd for Medieval Epics and some of the stories of Middle English/Middle Germanic Kings and Queens – some of whom I still tell friends of whenever drunkenly possible – I really enjoyed the second to last story titled “Lords and Ladies.” It was the best for me, as the aristocratic governess, once again tying into the Strange family as she is the grand-niece of the main character of the first story, defies the orders of the Holy Roman Emperor and a war ensues with the Catholic Church as she tries to defend her people. The woman holding down the castle as the greatest army assembled on Earth has her entire land under siege was very much like one of my all-time favourite Germanic Medieval epics, Willehalm, and had perhaps an even more charming ending.

Really wish I had more to say without spoiling anything, but definitely pick up a copy of this book, or ebook it or audio it some way. Just....give it a go, it is great.

The 19th Wife - David Ebershoff

Well election time is upon us, or just behind us, depending on when this gets posted, and I think it is interesting one of our candidates is a Mormon. Or funny. Or scary, maybe. Because 19^th Wife is packed with them. Like sardines in a f***ing tin. Wives everywhere. Prophets prophesying, angry mobs, chat rooms, fabulously gay ex-Mormons (and by ex I mean Ex-communicated) and of course, what book club book is complete without white people scalping each other and making it look like the Indians did it?

Naturally, I went into this knowing a fair amount about the LDS faith, having sat through many a talk with their door to door salesmen and even reading a bit of their book, which is less of an instructions manual or “how-to” on getting into heaven and is more of another “New Testament” sort of story involving entirely new characters I have never really heard of but are all loosely based on, if you can believe it, characters from the Old Testament.

It all seems very confusing but if it’s a faith you are into, then try not to get too bogged down by the details and focus on the main point: Jesus had a sweet sequel and did really well in coming to North America to spread the word because he is actually a white guy, (and Native Americans love white guys, right?) so naturally we should all fit in quite well in his system, being white Americans (not that everyone who reads this blog is a Caucasian/White/North American, but most Mormons are, so there you have it).

Anyway, the progenitor of all this madness was a very imaginative, captivating and handsome white American who just wanted people to call him Prophet. He also had a sexual appetite that defied his role as a contemporary Christian so he got around that by saying Bog instructed him to take many wives, a loophole of sorts to avoid the oh-so-demeaning title of adulterer, which was barely a step down from being considered a witch.

The 19^th Wife chronicles this man and his successor, Brigham Young, an even hungrier breeder, from the point of view of Brigham’s last wife, illegitimate or legitimate (it’s up courts and Jesus to decide these details). Sure, she brings an end to the fad that was plural marriage, but at a great cost and brings about a mysterious end to her own life.

It’s also the story of a modern family, one that is based on the goings on in Colorado City, Arizona. Showing some state pride, I have to say I was sad to read the fictional town belonging to this story was actually set in Utah. How dare the author rob us of one of our finer points in this great state, that of personal and religious freedom! Nevertheless, the modern story works out to be a similarly crazed Prophet obsessed with a massively high girl-to-guy ratio in each married man’s house. The details are all a bit creepy and get the reader to think about what is morally acceptable and where we draw the lines between practicing religion in a free state/country vs. the damages and sacrifices people in these faiths must make. I am big into moral theory, it was a favourite subject of mine in college (amongst many), so I had some key points I liked about this book:

•                 Free will, for example. Everyone is entitled to it by virtue of their consciousness. Freedom of religion is not only guaranteed in this country, but is an important subject under our ability to exercise free will as free thinking humans. It is not the government’s job, President Grant in Brigham Young’s case or the Utah/Arizona government on a smaller scale, to draw lines and enforce laws that limit our ability to practice religion in this country. Unless it happens to –
•                 Take advantage of members of a religion. There are always things people do that we find goofy, but some things actually have negative consequences and hurt the fabric of society. This book really stresses what Ann Eliza Young, Brigham’s 19^th, tried to get across to us in her quest to break the bonds of women in a polygamist society. It is a double edged sword, religious freedom. “I can do whatever Jesus or his dad Bog instructs me to do as I am a prophet, his mouthpiece to the world, without fear of Government intervention” is true so long as no one gets hurt. But what if everyone is quite miserable? What if followers are mostly going along with it out of fear? Either out of fear of un-provable consequences for blasphemers that includes death or constant intimidation and fear of not reaching heaven? That’s where one more thing should come into play –
•                 Common sense. People need to use it. Following a pioneer into a fresh, virgin new world because he is a great man is really a good thing, and is how a massive part of the American West was settled. But entering into these marriages is not quite forced, merely creepily coerced through the use of a sneaky secret service and lots of black mail, if what we read from Ann Eliza’s perspective is to be believed. If there isn’t any pushback even though everyone finds it either morally repulsive or completely unnecessary, you get a society that is almost being led by a dictator and they are fear mongered or intimidated into this until, ultimately, we have –
•                 Revolution. Not in a grand sense of the word really, but one woman escaping the confines of polygamy, which is almost like being imprisoned, except the sex is legitimate because you’re actually married to the guy, not his cell mate. But more in the sense of someone escaping and challenging the views of the prophet until popular demand suggests they change their ways.

All in all I’m actually sort of glad it worked out the way it did. As in real life, not just the book. Brigham Young was an excellent pioneer, one of the better heroes we’ve ever venerated in this great nation, and he did what he had to do to get everyone settled in Salt Lake City where the West really boomed. And in a pretty civilized manner, polygamy or not. Without polygamy, would they have been able to populate and grow so rapidly and thrive the way they did? Even if all it provided was an outlet for Brigham so that he could focus more of his attention on other things, like sending out missionaries and bringing in immigrants from England, Sweden, Germany etc, it served his purpose and hence, served the West well. Who knows if he would have been as effective without that release, without a new bang-maid every 2 years? It’s not for us to say.

Also, this beer is very damn good if you can find it!

But I will say that morally, I find it compelling. Polyamoury really doesn’t need to be thought of as morally repugnant as it is viewed in this book, or indeed as it is viewed by this nation in general. It is perfectly fine. If a thriving civilization wants to practice polyamoury, or polygamy or whatever, and they are all perfectly happy, then that’s fine. What I have a problem with is how it was administered, and how it was controlled. Saying it is done in the name of God is never a reason to do anything to anyone else, in my opinion. It should never affect anyone negatively, what you do for your religious deity, because that’s not how I feel religion, or my God, operates.

The other problem I have with how it is administered is men can take many wives, but women must remain true to that single husband. Plural marriage or celestial marriage, as Joseph and Brigham defined it, was sort of a one-way street for them. It ensured they always had fresh p***y, but the women got screwed! And not in a good way! Ann Eliza was a beautiful young woman, and had to put up with a fatter, old and bearded Brigham. No thanks. If polyamoury is your practice, why can’t she take all the men she wants? The book doesn’t really address this, instead it just blasts the Mormon and the Firsts, the breakaway of the Mormon church who were polygamy exteremists views of polygamy. And I’m okay with tearing that idea up because, as I just said, how they did it was wrong. Morally. End of story. Pretty good book though.

Dying Inside by Robert Silverberg

With the exception of Blood Meridian and maybe John Dies at the End, at least in terms of plot, I have had the fortune of reading really amazing books lately. Just think: Lucifer’sHammer, Alvin Maker Book One: Seventh Son, Destination: Void, Pavane (review out soon), and Invitation to a Beheading before that (I should also say here that I do not necessarily post reviews in the same order in which I read. Do not be annoyed, however! For I also do not speak in the order my thoughts come out. It is quite natural for me to do it this way). I’ve had it good lately. Especially in the Science Fiction department; most of which are books from another era and are regarded as classics, or “books I should have read by now,” but I am enjoying catching up on all these greats. Robert Silverberg, more famous for being a short story writer, whose novels A Time of Changes and Nightfall (co-authored with Isaac Asimov) I have already enjoyed, really blew me away with Dying Inside.

It is a difficult one to explain, and the easiest way I can put it is that if you have ever read The Time Traveller’s Wife, it is similar to that in many ways: tone, character development, a few overlapping plot lines that the hero’s power creates and makes awkward; but written by a man. Oh yeah and there’s lots of sex in both books. Big plus there on both of them.

David Selig has the power to read minds…always has. He was born with it. Not in a super power sort of sense, but in an odd way that seems basic to him. He has had this power for so long he sort of forgets how unique it is. It makes him a pain to deal with for normal people. Ruins relationships. And growing up, he didn’t even know he was the only one who possessed such a power, just figured everyone could do it.

In fact, a brief chapter on him growing up turns out to be one of my favourite scenes in the entire book. As a young man he is asked to see a psychologist because his parents worry so much about him not fitting in at school. He answers all of the psychologists questions honestly at first, but as the interview moves on, the boy picks up things that the scientist finds very interesting, specifically things about “pee- pees” and “tushies” and when he sees how seriously the man locks onto those keywords by reading the psych's mind, whilst quietly but frantically taking notes, the boy expands upon them and then steers everything back to those particular references. He eventually adopts the scientist’s own technical terminology when referring to these parts, and this move, playing a fun game with the man’s brain, is dangerous but also innocent because the young man honestly doesn’t know any better.

There are actually many great scenes like that though, and some people have such hostile personalities that it is difficult to harness them and probe their mind, as though the energy locked inside from contained emotion makes it treacherous for his self-described mental tendrils to probe. Such is the case with one of the athletes, a 6’9” black basketball player he meets and tries to work with.

Not only does this danger feel like real danger, but it is compounded by the fact that, as the book’s title implies, his power is slipping. It is a difficult journey about how he manages, and is nice when he talks about how he used to be when he had it working well. He could use it to hone in on some girl in his crowded apartment and within the evening, bang her; then work part time on Wall Street when he needed cash and make unbelievably good calls on stock options before big deals were announced. Which is probably what we would all do, right? I mean, just think of it: if you had that power, not only the basic “what would you do with it” questions should be asked, but also “how would your life turn out?” If you get bummed out by how generally shitty people are, it is only going to get worse if you can read their thoughts. At least that’s what I feel like, and why I feel bad for poor David Selig. It’s an interesting concept, for sure.

Even more interesting to me though is how one copes with losing such a power! Sure, we've all fantasized about the ability to fly, stop bullets with a force field we can control, see through girl's clothes and such, but have we ever thought how we'd cope if we were born with such a talent, never really learning to appreciate what it must be like not to have it, and then gradually begin to lose it? It's kind of like sight. Or memory. Or Giving a Fuck. Or having hair on my head, when you think about it.

But David never gets over how awkward having the power is. How devastating it is to his relationships with family, friends, lovers and bosses. So maybe it fading away is a good thing. I find myself feeling really bad for him at times, and I honestly think Silverberg makes him a very believable, relatable character with a power that just doesn’t serve someone like him practically.

One other thing I would like to include is a sort of similarity I saw between it and Time Traveller's Wife on sex. I don't think he ever time travelled during sex, in Time Traveller's Wife, I mean. And I may have my facts wrong, but I remember it as being a reason to bang constantly. He also went jogging a lot, because he also tended not to travel during jogging. But lots of sex and the power was at bay during sex, I think I'm remembering that right. Anyway, David Selig can probe a girl's mind during sex, and really get inside her head to know everything she's experiencing (I mean talk about all I would be doing with that power if I had it!) until the moments nearing orgasm, when there is just too much energy for him to sustain a presence inside. He is then ejected, forcefully, from her mind and emotions and can feel nothing through her when she actually climaxes. I thought it interesting both books involve some breaking of this supernatural power through sex.

In summation, a very fun book and if you’re not a Robert Silverberg fan yet, and only care to read maybe one of his books, I say make it this one. The man has range, it is much different than A Time of Changes and especially Nightfall, but I’ll leave Nightfall alone and recommend it to those who are doomsday sci-fi fans.