Sedia – The Alchemy of Stone

Sedia, Ekaterina. The Alchemy of Stone. Rockville, MD; Prime, 2008. 301 pp.

The Alchemy of Stone came in trailing a lot of praise. It tells the story of Mattie; an intelligent automaton; who finds herself caught up in a political maelstrom while the steampunk city she calls home crumbles around her. An alchemist by trade, Mattie is approached by the gargoyles who wish her to find some way to prevent them from eventually turning to stone. Though ostensibly emancipated, the mechanic who made her refuses to relinquish to the only key that can re-wind her clockwork heart. Alchemy has been described as “A gorgeous meditation on what it means to not be human.” (1)

I think Alchemy had a lot of layers, sub-narrative, meta-narratives & depth. But I’m not sure that really got it. Considering all the hype it came in with, I was expecting to be “wowed!” Instead, I was only “…meh ’d.” Again; I may not have gotten it. There were definitely some feminist undertones which, I think, eluded me & I’m sure that there was some sort of discussion on the relationship between the creator (God?) & the creation (mankind?). There was also this whole is-progress-&-technology-really-all-that-worth-it thing going on. There’s personifications of self-sacrificing compassion (the Soul-Smoker), mortality (the gargoyles), a creator who is both loving & cruel (Loharri), the victims of racism & xenophobia (Niobe), & radical ideology (Sebastian). In fact, in writing this, I’m wondering if maybe there was just too much in there. Sedia’s world is wonderful blend of steampunk-fantasy – thoroughly enjoyable, but no where near fleshed-out enough for me. It was too descriptive to offer the mystique of the unsaid, but not descriptive enough to satisfy. I wanted MORE. A classmate of mine described herself as a ‘greedy reader’ & I really liked that phrase – it definitely applies to me, as well. There was so much in Alchemy that really should have taken hold of my tiny little brain & ran off with my imagination; but it didn’t. Not once did I feel compelled to pick the book back up after setting it down. Reading it wasn’t a chore, mind you – it was pleasant, just not compelling. Mattie herself is really the gemstone of the tale – she’s sweet & naïve & altogether charming.

I’m giving this book a Check it Out rating. It strikes me as a good book club-style book; there’s lots to discuss, but I think it almost demands that sort of dialogue – reading it on my own felt, as I said, somewhat lacking. I don’t think it’s steampunky enough to appeal to steampunkers, nor does it feel fantasy enough to appeal to true fabulists. It may, however, be a good recommendation for someone who’s not really into either genre, but that wants something truly unique.

Miéville – King Rat

Miéville, China. King Rat. New York; Tor, 1999. 318 pp.

I have a “tell” for books that I’m really enjoying; I milk them out. I read them slowly with the intention of prolonging the story. Not wanting it to end. King Rat was one of these. I had to cradle each page in my mind & savor it; making it last as long as possible.

King Rat is China Miéville’s first novel; a gritty, modern epilogue to the Pied Piper of Hamlin tale. It tells the story of Saul, a seemingly-ordinary guy who turns out be related to King Rat – the anthropomorphic animal lord of all rats. As Saul learns what it means to be rat, the Pied Piper is methodically hunting him down. It seems as if King Rat & his animal lord friends – Anasazi the spider & Loplop, the Bird Supreme are all that can save Saul & his human friends.

This is Miéville number 2 for me (see The City & the City). I’m still waiting on Perdido Street Station, but King Rat was excellent. For me, a good fantasy/ SF novel is one that really gets my imagination going – one that starts me thinking up new ideas & concepts, or one that adds a magical over-lay to the way I see the world around me. King Rat had both of those powers: it got me thinking & it noticing thing I wouldn’t normally. I found myself looking for signs of rodents; smelling the world around me & especially looking out for the smell of piss (the Smell of Piss is almost a character in King Rat unto itself). I considered dumpsters that I would normally overlook & thought about the rotting food inside & how much different it must all look to a rat. Good stuff.

The real stand-out for me about King Rat was the way Miéville really thought through what it would mean to be rat. A rat with the size & intelligence of a grown man, but who eats trash & lives in the sewers. It’s gross, urban & gritty. This isn’t your animal-superpowers kind of thing (although Saul’s rat-powers do lend him super-human abilities & he jokes to himself about being “Ratman”); it’s much more raw than that. It’s a what-it-means-to-be-animal sort of thing. It’s easy to see how Miéville made his mark on the weird fiction scene with this first novel; it’s got the strange creativity of a Philip K. Dick combined with the dark postmodern grit of a Palahniuk.

The only critiques I have of King Rat are, I think, mere reflections of it being a first novel. From what little I know of Miéville, he seems like a man with an agenda. In King Rat, he seems to be trying to explore too many things at once. The socialist message, starting with Dad the Commie, is fine, but ends a little too heavy-handedly &, perhaps, too obviously with the rat socialist utopia in the epilogue. Saul’s self-deprecation at this point helps blunt this message, but not enough. There’s also this thing about music – specifically Drum n’ Bass (aka Jungle) dance music – that comes off as a little awkward. You can see where he’s going with it, but the ride there feels uncomfortable & contrived. The multitude of ideas that he seems to want to convey comes across as a little chaotic & discordant. By contrast, The City & the City feels tight & polished.

Not only is this a great novel for adults & sci-fi fans, I think it’s a great addition to the Adult books that are good for Teens category. I think it would have a lot of teen appeal, especially for older teen guys. It would be a great booktalk book. It does has a lot of F-Bombs, so parents beware, but overall the content doesn’t feel too adult. I’m giving it a Put it on Hold NOW! rating.

Mieville – The City & the City

Miéville, China. The City & the City. New York; Del Rey Ballantine, 2009.

The City & the City tells the story of inspector Tyador Borlú, of the Beszel Extreme Crimes Unit. Borlú lives in the city-state of Beszel – a county unto itself which occupies the exact same geographical space as its rival city-state of Ul Qoma. Confused already? Beszel & Ul Qoma are physically & geographically the same city. However, parts of the city belong to Beszel, while other parts belong to Ul Qoma – & not just certain areas – some streets (“crosshatched areas”) have Beszel buildings right next to Ul Qoma buildings. The inhabitants of the cities are trained from birth to “unsee” people, cars, buildings, dogs, etc. in the other city. Ul Qoma is distinguished from Beszel in a hundred different ways; architecture style, colors of lighting, clothing, etc.; the type of food they eat, the perfumes used – even the way people hold & carry themselves. The inhabitants of the two countries speak two different (though related) languages. A single building in the city serves as the border between the two states; requiring passports, etc. in order for people to literally “travel” to a store that might only be a block away from their home. The whole house of cards is held together by fear of the mysterious power known as Breach. Those who Breach – by looking at someone in the opposite city, perhaps – disappear forever. Inspector Borlú uncovers a murder which may or may not involve Breach, but one which certainly involves both The City & The City.

I have been fascinated by the person of China Miéville for some time now, but this is the first book of his that I read. I first came across his short story, Reports of Certain Events in London in McSweeney’s Enchanted Chamber of Astonishing Stories & wanted to know more this author who had such a strange name (I thought he was a woman). Turns out, he’s this huge British geek socialist political activist punk influenced academic sci-fi fantasy guy who writes “Weird Fiction”… so; An Author of Interest.

I’ll definitely read more Miéville, but I have a suspicion that The City & the City may not be the most indicative sample of his work. The book feels more like speculative fiction than full-blow sci-fi or fantasy. Although strange indeed, his idea of two political states existing in the same geographic location are is not really all that unrealistic (or at least, his skill in presenting the idea makes it seem as such). The fantasy element is subtle, with vague allusions to strange artifacts from the past. What’s more, it’s an out-&-out detective story. Through Borlú’s first-person narrative, we follow his investigation – which (naturally) turns out to be bigger than anyone could have thought & involves both cities & the shadowy elements in between. I’m not really a mystery sort of guy, but even on a simple cop-story level, Miéville’s book is compelling. The real gem, though, is how we get to explore the strange dual cities through the lens of Borlú’s case. It’s an obvious convention used to examine this fanciful idea of Beszel/ Ul Qoma, but Miéville uses it very well. Furthermore, the allusions to strange doings & ancient artifacts are suitably mysterious & alluring; in the tradition of the great “Weird Fiction” authors of the past, Miéville tells, but never explains. What is left unsaid is far more powerful than what is actually said.

On mr. eugene’s rating system, I’d give The City & the City a “Put it on Hold” rating. I really, really enjoyed reading it – but I don’t love it. As I said, I suspect that it’s not overly indicative of Miéville’s writing overall, so I’m withholding opinion on him until I get my hands on Perdido Street Station. Also, as a cop novel, it’s not really up my ally; again, I enjoyed it, but it didn’t make my imagination run wild.

Stroud – The Golem’s Eye

Stroud, Jonathan. The Golem’s Eye. New York: Hyperion, 2004.

The Golem’s Eye is the second volume in Stroud’s Bartimaeus Trilogy. The book continues the story of young magician Nathaniel’s career; now as an up-and-coming member of the ministry. Assigned to hunt down the Resistance – a group of non-magical rebels seeking to overthrow the magocratic government – Nathaniel is eventually forced to turn once again to the djinni Bartimaeus for help. The story alternates between third-person narratives of Nathaniel & Kitty, a young member of the Resistance, & the first-person narrative of Bartimaeus.

I had somewhat mixed feelings about the first book in the series, The Amulet of Samarkand. On the one hand, the ideas behind this series are right up my ally – I mean, what could be cooler than a dystopian society ruled by genie-summoning magicians cruelly oppressing the commoners? Throw in a classic trickster character in the form of the djinni Bartimeaus & this series should be top shelf… but, it isn’t. What I really found compelling in book 1 was the character of Bartimaeus – throughout the parts of the book written in the third person about Nathaniel, I was really just pushing on to get back to the Bartimaeus parts. Now, in book 2, Bartimaeus’ narrative is only one of three, instead of one of two; that’s a lot of pushing to get to the ‘good stuff.’ Even then, the djinni seems somewhat more subdued than in book 1 & his actions & decisions are somewhat more implausible.

Part of the charm of book 1 was the on-going exhibition of mysterious creatures, magics & devices which fill Stroud’s world. Unfortunately, anyone expecting a new line-up of such goodies in book 2 will be sorely disappointed (think about Harry Potter –  where  Rowling offers us new tricks in each volume). The character of Kitty is ok; her frustration with the amateurish antics of the Resistance & her back story of the magicians’ cruelty are suitably moving for the reader – she’s the source of the book’s pathos. However, I think that Stroud really misses out on developing the dystopian angle here with her.

The real bummer though, is Nathaniel; he has gone from one-dimensional & lackluster to downright odious. If the reader is meant to feel any sympathy for him at all, I missed it. It isn’t even as if he’s written as a villain, or as a dark hero; he’s clearly the protagonist, but has zero redeeming qualities or features. As the book is clearly about him this was, needless to say, a real buzz-kill. Slogging through 500+ pages just waiting for a reason to like the main character is not my idea of a good read. I found myself rooting for the bad guys, really – destroying Nathaniel would have released Bartimaeus from his captivity & probably taken the pressure off of Kitty – really a win-win-win. I suspect that Nathaniel will be redeemed in book 3, Ptolemy’s Gate, but frankly, I’m not going to bother to find out.

My 2Cents? I’ll come up with a fancy rating system later, but for now, let’s call The Golem’s Eye 2 out of 5. Read the first book, but don’t bother to buy it. It’s pretty good for younger YA’s looking to continue their Harry Potter fix. I wouldn’t bother reading book 2 though; there are far better options out there.