Submitted by Abalieno on March 7, 2010 - 09:06.
In the last two years, since I first discovered his books, Erikson has quickly became not only my favorite fantasy writer, but one of my favorite writers among all genres and classifications. And I started to ask myself what is that makes me "click" perfectly with some writers and not so much with others. What have Steven Erikson, David Foster Wallace and Roberto Bolano in common (the three most disparate writers I recently read)? I also got myself an answer: truthfulness. They write on the page things that are true. And I imagine the spontaneously arising question: how can a fantasy story be "true"? It can very well, and "Crack'd Pot Trail" is a most fitting example.
Recently I read a review of the first three novellas (not including this one, that comes fourth) that considered them a bit disappointing because they lacked a "serious" depth or actually gave something more to the characters primarily involved ( the necromancer Bauchelain & Korbal Broach, plus their manservant Emancipor Reese, the real star). This reminds me that the most devious aspect of everything that comes from Erikson's pen/quill/keyboard is about the approach. Thus my warning, right here: this story of Bauchelain & Korbal Broach takes place, in-truth (and out-spoilers, trust me, for the whole length of this commentary), at the periphery of these characters. It is a story about them, but not featuring them. On the other side you get Erikson. Erikson himself, the writer, who put himself in the story unlike, not like, but still somehow similarly, Stephen King did with The Dark Tower. He's there in the page and sometimes even pointing his finger and laughing at you, the reader. But, again, I remind you of the devious approach: the laugh is not scorn, just affinity. Sympathy.
The novella has a plot, it has a direction and drive, it moves toward a resolution already from the start. Akin to other fantasy and non-fantasy plots, it is also a journey. But in this case the plot isn't the idea that truly builds the novella, there's a metaphorical one that more strongly takes the scene. So two parallel binaries of purpose and narrative intent, both requiring payoff before the end, while also getting entwined enough to not be simply juxtaposed. Succeeding in doing that is not easy task at all. The novella is written beautifully, as I already raved weeks ago, almost to the point of showing off, stylistically brilliant, but in the second half I started having some serious doubts that it could get a satisfying resolution. Doubt that increased exponentially when I had just 10 pages left to read and still unable to see things possibly coming together in a decent way (no matter my own doubts were repeatedly voiced in the story itself by both characters and narrator). Then Erikson is able to pull it, masterly, in like 3 pages. It comes all together in three pages.
While the plot moves in a direction (an hapless bunch of artists, hunters, and champions of rectitude, together in necessity, on the heels of our infamous necromancers), the real story is about the relationship between art and audience. The artist, the critics and the public, seen from all possible perspectives and often metaphorically, but in such a case that a metaphor is, right the story, always executed literally, very real and sound (which I don't explain here to not ruin the greatest idea/association in the novella). The tortuous relationship is made focus and explored without filters. What, elsewhere, readers often mistake for boisterous arrogance (on the part of Erikson, toward readers) and are ready to jump upright and accuse, is instead a skewed perspective because Erikson never defends univocally one side, and what appears as spite and mockery (sometimes even truly, but healthy, as part of all relationships) is also always parody of all parts included. The audience as well the writer (self-parody as well self-doubt are featured, hopefully not smothered and forgotten after the ending, that does take a side but that shouldn't be interpreted as the author's own true belief that erases all doubts before, in a kind of very, you know, un-subtle way, on the part of the reader. But we're spinning again here and you never know which side you end up facing).
Which falls perfectly in the trick that makes the book, as subjects and objects mingle together and you can't discern anymore if you are reading a parody or if you are yourself the object of parody, the one who's laughing or the one who's being laughed at, or maybe just staring at yourself in a mirror, playing both roles, that also connects with other layers inside the novella, both as themes and plots. Which novella essentially is: a satire, a parody. Totally un-subtle, not even trying. As satires are meant to be: all-encompassing, clever, malicious, deceitful, outrageous, disrespectful, defiant, very politically un-correct. And, essentially: truly subversive at its core since it lacks even a verse. There's no safe ground. Everything and everyone is subject of scorn as well as compassion. No filters nor prejudices, just a razor sharp sight that spares no one.
Well, no one besides Bauchelain & Korbal Broach, who, you already know, are just meant to win even when they lose.
The premise that founds the story: who's more useless in the world than an "artist"? (especially a world where first priority is just surviving) And what if, to justify their existence, the artists were made to pay with their own life if their art was judged not entertaining enough?
And what if democracy (voting for: life or gallows) was made of stupids and illiterates who would only reward the worst of the artists?
As you can imagine I loved this novella as much I loved the previous three. It's not a mad rush as The Lees of Laughter's End, not as funny and as entertaining, but it has a similar drive of The Healthy Dead and quality-wise I judge it above. Sharper and more outrageous. Plot-wise it only shines toward the end and slacks a bit in the middle, but the payoff in the end redeems that aspect, as long you don't expect the plot and just the plot to drag you along for 180 pages. As in all cases, you have to be interested in what the writer is writing about, and in THAT case there's no slacking or word wasted even here.
"So I pose the following provision. Should she decide, at any time in your telling, that you are simply... shall we say, padding your narrative, why, one or both of the knights shall swing their swords."
It also reminded me I love reading.
P.S.
In the 181 pages there's also space for zombies (yes zombies, not T'lan Imass) and a good amount of graphic sex that will make you chuckle a lot (in a good way). Oh, and also a "fapping" god.
Submitted by Abalieno on March 3, 2010 - 16:58.
So I'm attached to this website even if it isn't used much these days, and was torn inside to see it die.
It happens early today (I was going to bed and instead six hours later I'm still up) that I check the website and it gives me a 500 internal server error. So I go to the Dreamhost page to report the problem but I soon notice that I can access the databases and FTP. So it's not down, it's broken. I go to the support page and I see a warning stating that they are moving the site on a different server and if I had a custom PHP (I have, because they already broke my site once and I had to resort to that) then it was going to be broken after the move.
The problem is that I don't remember anything about how I actually made the custom PHP. Not even a vague idea. The perspective was starting to feel rather gloomy. But then looking at the root of the site I notice that I left all the stuff still there and it's actually working, including the old script I used and modified (because it also didn't work right away back then). Only that even my script doesn't work now (I'll explain the tech details later).
And there starts the odyssey, looking through all kinds of websites, copy/pasting errors and whatnot. I rarely made a so hectic journey through the internet. The old engine just didn't seem compatible with the new server and wouldn't compile. In six hours, without knowing any damn think about all this, I think I tried a hundred of different solutions, editing scripts and makefiles for the compiler even if I never really saw one before.
Well, I'm happy. Now it works again. Dunno if it doesn't break suddenly at some point because there are still some tricky things, but at least I got to see my site once again. It was truly so close to being gone and I was hopeless because Dreamhost simply told to deal with it and that they would not offer any support of any kind.
Later I'll have to go and documenting this a bit, I'll do my part and also update the broken wiki page at Dreamhost.
UPDATE:
I'm not really sure I want to go down in detail to explain what I did because I don't want to make the site even less secure and broken. Here's the essence of what happened:
The website runs on custom compiled PHP. The website gets moved to a 64bit machine and so all the old code is now broken. I need to recompile.
I still have everything from when I did compile PHP last time, so I try to rerun the same script. But it breaks:
configure: error: Cannot find OpenSSL's <evp.h>
Apparently Dreamhost doesn't have anymore support for OpenSSL and PHP requires it. Where things really start to get gloomy is when you look for the error online and find other Dreamhost users who faced the same problem and asked in forums and blog posts... years ago and unanswered. The internet reveals the desperation of passing time and unanswered calls for help! That's the kind of ending that I was looking at. Doomed.
So I try to look for the source code and compile it locally, which isn't simple, because adding it to the other script didn't work. The "configure" command didn't work, I read that it used "config" instead, but it still wouldn't run properly. Follow an endless number of attempt and I think I was able to finally run it through "sh", the shell.
Then I had to make PHP know where to find OpenSSL locally, which required a lot of juggling of directories (while also many attempts to see if I could compile PHP without SSL support, maybe) which is hard because you don't know if it doesn't work because pointed in the wrong location or because it isn't compatible or misses some part. At the end OpenSSL works but the script breaks again two checks after:
/usr/bin/ld: cannot find -lc-client
skipping incompatible /usr/lib/libc-client.a when searching for -lc-client
Fun! I later figure out that the lc-client is compiled in the IMAP module and copied over. I tried compiling a more recent version (but the problem was elsewhere) but that lead to a whole host of new problems since I was getting incompatibilities with IPV6 and the program attempting to overwrite (and failing) some main files on the server. Then it turned out that IMAP also required OpenSSL, but it wasn't smart enough to look at the local copy I installed (nor had a configurable "config"), and so continued to fail. So I tried to get my hands down deep in the makefile itself, trying to link manually my OpenSSL, but I only got more and more errors and screen showing fancy characters. No good at all. I tried with different version of IMAP hoping maybe one would be compatible.
This goes on a while, with my root directory filled with sss aaa abba azazphp aaaphp and so on because every run of the script pretended I erased the directories and doing it through FTP would take an insane amount of time and I didn't remember the Unix command that would delete a directory with everything inside (rm -r), and I was too busy with a million of other thoughts to look that up.
In the end I got through, managed to compile IMAP and have it digested by PHP. And the site ran again.
I also suspect that lots of troubles also came from the possibility of having code half compiled and uncleaned since I compiled PHP last time.
(this omitting many steps in the middle, like installing other libraries that may be connected and swapping source versions with newer ones)
Submitted by Abalieno on February 16, 2010 - 08:57.
Hello acronyms. But then whoever may be interested in this knows already what the title is about.
In this last update GRRM explains that when you mess with the timeline you'll always get your ass handed back to you, whether you're Erikson or Martin.
He says he doesn't want advices, so I won't give any, nor I've read AFFC yet but I know what the general public thinks and that's what got me worried reading that update. The problem is that the longer the wait the more people expect a kind of payoff. That's why these long series always improve on rereads when you don't have to wait years from one book to the other. A relaxed and balanced pace is not bad, in a general context. But if you waited 5 years for that book, then every page you turn is one page less from whatever expectations you have. Without some sort of payoff you'll finish the book with a big feeling of dissatisfaction even if the book wasn't that bad. Preparatory work spread along 10 years of wait just can't work.
In the case of AFFC we got a book that was criticized exactly because it seemed to go nowhere and was mostly about setting the pieces back up again. It was a valley after a peak. So if this following book, 5 years later, only fills the gap and doesn't deliver anything special, the risk is that the already weakened balance breaks completely.
Taking back chapters to move them on the following book may be a disaster if those chapters make the plot move onward. Especially since the actual release of the next book is so remote that it may as well just not exist.
So my advice (to the publisher) is to think more about delivering the best book possible right now, than sparing the good stuff for later.
Submitted by Abalieno on February 15, 2010 - 03:55.
In regards to the previous post, the author of the quote wants to make sure he's not a Martin fanboy and that the first part of the phrase isn't directly implying the second (even if it actually is). I'll instead clarify that I simply extrapolate the quote to use it as a general example of a trend I sometime notice and don't like. No idea if the author of that review is biased or not, fanboy or not, I just say that the quote implied certain things that are false and I used it as a general example.
Instead the other day I got an occasion on Malazan forums to elaborate on the differences in writing between Martin and Eirkson. These are things that I believe do exist and are not a result of my biased perception. In the end my preference goes for a particular style and I explain why. I'm not interested to see one of them triumph on the other, only that when a discussion takes place it follows certain rules of coherence and objectivity when it comes to objective elements. I respect every opinion, as long it is coherent.
--
I think the whole approach to flaws is different.
Whereas Martin would write 100 pages and then toss away everything that isn't 100% working as expected, Erikson makes the process of writing part of the intent the novel is about. Erikson writes like a freeclimber. He knows exactly where he wants to go but the process of getting there is part of what you see on the page and his journey is your journey as a reader. Move after move. Sometimes you can't go straight up as you wish and have to move sideways, a few times maybe you have to move backwards, but every move you make is essential and part of what you're creating there and the final destination. Erikson is insanely ambitious in what he does and even when the task is quite hard to reach he doesn't back off, he just gets more motivated. So the books are indeed "flawed". There are parts that work better than others, some amazingly successful and some not quite reaching, yet this is what makes the books much more interesting to read for me. They are filled with experimentation on all levels and that's what keeps my interest and lightens up the brain and the fun feedback.
Reading Martin I think makes easier to forget about the book itself and engage with the story and characters. Erikson instead requires a certain detachment and look at things from multiple perspectives (what he calls "layering" the writing, sometimes to insane levels). With Martin you get a final product that is perfectly crafted and ready to be enjoyed. With Erikson instead you have the process of crafting itself as part of what you are experiencing. So while what Erikson writes feels rougher, for me it also feels like he's telling me something that is "true" and that offers me a lot more. And where Martin may respect all good rules that make a classic narrative without any slip of control or mastery, Erikson may as well go and break them all just because of his rebellious soul. You decide what you like better ;)
--
I'll also point out this post that, while not quite to the point on Erikson, I think underlines well certain canons that Martin follows and make me say there's not a whole lot of originality involved. He just picked certain canons that were not typical in "fantasy".
--
On the merit of the legitimacy of battles between writers, as the title of this post would suggest, I say that there's plenty of legitimacy in comparing things (or writers).
Where the thing breaks is when the intent is trying to have one being declared superior to another with a pretense of objectivity and absoluteness. Who can say who's the better writer? A final judgment made on what rules? What is the canon everyone agreed upon as the ultimate judgement? The only real objective and usable canon is: "sales". And sales will only declare which author is more accessible and able to reach a large public, leaving out everything else that belongs to writing. It basically tells nothing really useful beside the economic possibility of the book existing as a physical object and the writer being able to survive by writing as a job. We have no ultimate way to proclaim the better writer. So a discussion is only useful when it brings up characteristic of writing that are true and observable, so that the discussion helps to have a correct idea of the writer and his writing. Everyone will have a preference for something different. What is important is that the analysis is true to the writer and his style.
Submitted by Abalieno on February 12, 2010 - 04:28.
Everyone is entitled to have his own opinion, but it doesn't mean that one doesn't have to keep contact with reality.
So today I read this review of Best Served Cold and came to this part:
Where most authors dealing with multiple Point of View characters use a standard voice (grammar, structure and vocabulary) across all viewpoints, Abercrombie joins the ranks of authors like George R.R. Martin in his ability to reveal pieces of their personality through the way they tell their story.
Eh?
Ok, I understand that some readers really love Martin's series and have adopted it as a canon to judge all other fantasy, but the process of idolatry that is going on has trespassed all boundaries of plausibility of honest and earnest opinion.
George Martin has indeed a huge skill with characters, he makes them alive and sympathetic for the reader. That's his greatest skill. Along with making dialogues relevant and effective. But there's an aspect that was obvious to my eyes when I was reading the first book in the series and that has been praised by many readers: the prose is very good and even.
Martin writes very good prose, a pleasure to read. The book is accessible and engaging. But there's no experimentation with language. Grammar, structure, vocabulary? If true that would be the antithesis of an even, flowing prose. It would mean switching styles for every POV and it's definitely not something I saw happen in A Game of Thrones (especially with seven years old kids that would make any kind of adjusted use of vocabulary and structure extremely obvious).
So say that Martin is great at portraying multi-dimensional characters whose themes ring true and powerful. Say that he indulges in their minds, render wonderfully they thoughts on the page (plausible, faithful, consistent. Ok). But he does this through an even prose and style that represent constants through the book.
Doing true POVs that play with grammar, structure and vocabulary is extremely hard. It is rarely found in fantasy as it is rarely found in all genres of literature (Ulysses? Infinite Jest? House of Leaves? All examples of very simple and accessible books), and when you find it it's almost always about gimmicky aspects that are easily isolated. When it happens it also often leads to extremely polarized reactions by the readers because you can really come to HATE certain habits of certain characters and certain parts of the book really hard to wade through. It leads to an uneven prose, text hard to follow and definitely not an accessible book that is aiming for the broadest audience possible.
If that claim was true Martin's series would be nowhere as successful as it is. If it's successful is instead because the book has the kind of competent and beautiful prose that represent a constant throughout the book and that makes it a pleasure to read.
I also think that Abercrombie's style is completely different from Martin's and that you're really don't do Abercrombie justice if you look at his work through Martin's looking glass. It's hard for me to think even something vague that they may have in common.
Submitted by Abalieno on February 12, 2010 - 00:34.
 | Got this epic of a book today. Praised by David Foster Wallace and everyone else who had enough endurance for it. This trade paperback version has no frills, just 956 pages filled with text and looking sturdy and humongous.
This a quote from the first pages:
|
Submitted by Abalieno on February 7, 2010 - 06:41.
This is quite fitting since I'm reading Infinite Jest and in the book there's an experimental movie called, incidentally, "The Joke" that represents a metalinguistic experiment with an audience (where the audience isn't simply spectating, but actually the object of spectation).
Now you expect I draw a parallel between what I'm reading and the TV show I'm watching, but the truth is that I only see even more evidently, and am convinced of having been right and to the point, what I write down after the very 1st episode I watched, back in 2006 when Lost began airing here. Comments particularly interesting because warning about "premature" judgment, and "giving it some time" in order to "be surprised" since "it's not what you think it's going to be".
Four years and six seasons later I can now declare that I'm now even more convinced that: it's exactly what I thought it was.
Actually during the show I started to think that maybe it was going to be something more than I thought, but now that the end approaches I'm more and more convinced that my first interpretation was the very best and more precise.
This is how I rephrased it even before going back to read the old blog post:
--
Was its worth 100% dependent on payoff?
Season 1 was a big metalinguistic joke about TV series. It was the american Battle Royale, filled with gratuitous spooks and illogical plot twists to show that you could make a good show out of nothing just through good execution of technique.
Then they saw it worked, grew attached to it, and decided to add a plot that would somehow give a sense to what was actually built for the purpose of being senseless.
Lost is basically an exercise to show how much writers can be in control and use their own audience as a joke that the show is ultimately about.
--
Quoting the 2006 post:
It has the exact same scheme and feel, the exact same use of narrative structure and expedients, like the mix of different characters that don't know each other and then the use of neatly placed flashback to reveal part of their stories just before the character is involved into something in the main plot. Making the audience connect & sympathize a moment before something horrendous and life-threatening happens to them.
Basically there's nothing original if not a nearly infinite list of stereotypes and references (across all forms of media). Borrowing hands down from sci-fi and horror expedients to "conceal" and keep up the tension. Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" is another one, the expedient to never let you "see completely" to build up the tension (also "Alien") and the shaky camera + "close up" of a terrified face taken right from "Blair Witch Project" (the trick of not-showing, or seeing an horrified face but not seeing the object of horror).
--
So what's the deal with the polar bear?
Not something brought there to be the object of some sort of scientific experiment, but just a dissonant note used to amplify the effect of a spook. "A polar bear in a tropical island", that's the correct way to see it. It's something unsettling and mysterious that is shown not for a logic reason or external purpose, but solely for its properties of being unsettling and mysterious through the univocal act of being shown, so made to be, existing. Everything on screen in Season 1 (and the exact reason why each following season failed to recapture both the mood and the ratings) appears solely for its effect and never for its meaning. It's use of (visual, cinematographic) language not for its meaning, but for what it is. It's the use of language applied to language. So metalinguistic, or the property of the language to describe itself.
Put in another way: it's a joke that the authors played on the audience. A game whose object is the audience itself and its reactions. Where the audience's theories are part of the puzzle. A recursive game and sort of annular relationship between audience and showmakers. One feeding the other in recursive fashion of obsession.
It also says: we have the power of doing everything. We have control even when there's NO control, because it is language that represents the perimeter of what can be experienced and it is through language that we can manipulate what is perceived/true, and change it, overturn it, every time we want. They tried to push this to the point that the relationship writers-audience was so bent that it was on the point of snapping: in Season 3 they introduced two new characters (the loved Nikki & Paulo) that have always been there but never seen, put in place through an elaborate ret-conning exploiting plainly the "perimeter of what can be experienced" represented by the limited and finished space that comprises a filmed shot. You can't see what's behind or what's at the far margin. With the purpose of showing the audience that they could be shown everything and they would still fall for it. "Open wide and wait for the spoon". Only that the relationship was so bent that this didn't actually work out and the writers had to stagger back and reappraise the power of their egos.
This means that "Lost" is a study on language, its power and its effect on the broadest audience possible. A use of medium not to convey a message, but a medium that feeds on itself and is self-aware. A study on the production of meaning or its absence in favor of form.
Ultimately, whatever "plot" or "ultimate meaning", that the show may or may not have, is entirely secondary and tacked on. That's why up here I wrote: "Was its worth 100% dependent on payoff?" It's not. The payoff is supplementary in order to not delude the audience and entirely break the relationship of love. It's akin a spectacular action scene that serves no real purpose beside amusing & contenting (also called fanservice). But the truth is that the true experiment is involving the audience in the same way one Dharma experiment involved observers being observed. Which is exactly the type of mockery they love the most: they show you exactly what they are doing, in a slightly refracted context, and yet you fail to put the pieces together.
I think it worked perfectly.
Submitted by Abalieno on February 3, 2010 - 23:50.

We got the first two episodes that pave the road for the beginning of the end, and I tried to parse the elements while ret-conning them to the considerations I wrote at the end of season 5 (part 1 - part 2).
To begin with, Lindelof own words:
We will say this: season 6 is not about time travel. It’s about the implications, the aftermath, and the causality of trying to change the past. But the idea of continuing to do paradoxical storytelling is not what we’re interested in this year.
I'm rather glad about the first part of the show because the plot at the moment is extremely simple, and, especially, it is coherent with what I had written a year ago when the series closed.
After the finale a year ago I wrote:
If I have to guess the anti-Jacob is also the smoke monster, who is also evil-Locke. Jacob enjoys messing with people, while anti-Jacob is the one who prefers being left alone and would like as well to get rid of Jacob and enjoy a quiet life.
I think this is going to be a theme important to keep in mind. It's Jacob who messes with people, who calls the boat the first time and who gets the losties on the airplane the second time.
The anti-Jacob instead is the one who now wants to "go home". Whatever it means.
We also know that anti-Jacob killing Jacob means that the island (2007 version) isn't anymore in the balance of power. But. It's also possible that Sayid is now possessed by Jacob the same way Locke is now anti-Jacob (what is sure is that Jacob wants to keep Sayid alive and has sent a message to his "Others" faction through the message hidden in the guitar case that Jacob himself gave to Hurley).
It's also interesting because the way things went had the result of solving the time paradox they created last season. Me again a year ago:
But before they (the losties) can save themselves, they all have to die. Those in the past in order to complete the plan and let their copies live. Those in the future because they are orphans of a timeline (the island blew up, so Locke and Ben can't be on it, timeline-wise those scenes happen BEFORE what we're seeing in the past).
There's a problem, though. Sun has a picture of them in the Dharma initiative, and there's also a sixth season to fill. So this hints that, if the future is their future as that picture hints, they won't succeed in blowing up the island.
Lindelof again:
We knew that the ending of the time travel season was going to be an attempt to reboot. And as a result, we [knew] the audience was going to come out of the “do-over moment” thinking we were either going start over or just say it didn’t work and continue on. [We thought] wouldn’t it be great if we did both? That was the origin of the story.
My theory at that time (before the end of season 5) was that the entire timeline would be erased, because that future (Lock revived returning to the island with Sun & Ben) was strictly dependent on the past going the way it did.
So, either that timeline was "true" (hence losties not succeeding exploding the bomb) or it was going to be erased, so that, in order to trigger the "better world" (what we now see as flash-sideways) all of them had to be erased from existence. Meaning that in order to have themselves in the future have a better life, they had to sacrifice all they lived till that point. Also meaning that the whole TV series would be basically erased because they were successful in preventing the whole thing and triggering the reboot.
We now know things didn't go that way. The bomb did explode and the (arguably) better future was triggered, but the "copies" of the losties weren't "erased" and now persist in another timeline that goes to overlap exactly with the old 2007 version from season 5. Where anti-Jacob kills Jacob and now probably wants to take over the island in order to take off and return to Mars.
The big question in this series is about how the alternate timeline (2004) is going to fit in the context. Either it is there simply thematically to prove a point (that the new life isn't that better) or it will have to collide again in some way (Widmore maybe?).
Theories?
Thematically the theme has been already highlighted. Locke revived in this episode talks with Ben about the former Locke and says:
"He (Locke) was the only one who realized how pitiful the life he left behind really was."
And this kind of commentary is mirrored by something similar that happened last season, but that referred to the exact opposite situation (the life they lead after the crash):
"It was not all misery."
"Enough of it was."
We have now these two realities: the 2004 reboot and the 2007 as we know it.
A few important things to keep in mind:
- The main point is that it is JACOB who has caused the bomb exploding and the new 2004 timeline to exist (this inferred by the fact that it's Jacob himself who persuades most of the losties to return to the isle. And if he's not manipulating them directly for his own will, at the very least he is the one who gave them the "choice").
This may lead somewhere if things are considered that way. We do not even know that anti-Jacob is aware that his timeline (the 2007) is now somewhat secondary. Jacob at this point is apparently successful. Anti-Jacob may be the one tricked and now trapped not in the island, but in the surrogate timeline.
It's also possible that the two timelines will be personalized: Jacobs has the "white" 2004 no-crash timeline, while anti-Jacobs has the "black" standard timeline where he's now free.
Also, let's work with two archetypes. Jacobs represents white and progress made of men, and the will of men to alter destiny and have a role, and decide their own life and try in spite of all misery and failure and whatever. It's a kind of positive, merciful drive that often fails but always tries.
Anti-Jacobs represents wild nature. Unmerciful, cruel. That doesn't tolerate men messing up. That wants the island untouched, and wants it back, away from men. That also represents destiny as a self correcting fixed thing that has its own survival as first priority.
We know Lost is built through dichotomies, and the dialogue at the end of Season 5 crystallizes the contrast between Jacob and anti-Jacob:
anti-Jacob: "Still trying to prove me wrong, aren't you?"
Jacob: "You are wrong."
anti-Jacob: "Am I? They come. they fight. They destroy. They corrupt. It always ends the same."
Jacob: "It only ends once. Anything that happens before is just progress."
Which is also one of those broad themes about the human condition, and here's a link to what Steven Erikson writes:
The Chain of Dogs had fallen at the foot of Aren. Pormqual's ten thousand danced on trees. Leoman's rebel army was destroyed at Y'Ghatan. It was clear -- it could not be clearer -- that for all there was to learn, no one ever bothered. Each new fool and tyrant to rise up from the mob simply set about repeating the whole fiasco, convinced that they were different, better, smarter. Until the earth drinks deep again.
This is where things stand now and the whole thing was fairly simplified as I expected. As for the last season we lack a lot: "motivations". So the big mistery is how the two timelines are related, how they'll resolve, and in particular what's Jacob and anti-Jacob's plan.
Submitted by Abalieno on February 1, 2010 - 07:33.
TV-Nihon has released the "All Riders Versus Dai Shocker" movie, probably bad as a movie but filled with this kind of fanservice.
Both great and ridiculous at the same degree and at the same time. So, awesome.
From left to right (mistakes are possible): Shin, ZX, Super-1, Skyrider, Stronger, Amazon, X, Riderman, Agito, Ryuki, Faiz, Blade, Hibiki, Kabuto, Den-O, Kiva, Black, Black RX, ZO.
On bike: V3, No. 1, No. 3.








Submitted by Abalieno on January 28, 2010 - 02:51.
Erikson is genius.
When I read a book I don't just pretend I'm reading about a good story or an interesting theme, but that there's some creative and inspired use of language, and wordplay. Something that is pertinent to writing itself as an art and form of expression.
In the latest months I've moved from reading Erikson (and fantasy) to David Foster Wallace. They can't be more far away in style and purpose, yet I seem to find more in common than differences. One thing I love about both is that the single WORDS they use have a weight that's bigger than the space they take on the page. Words alone open worlds. What's plainly denoted in the text is nowhere the breadth of what it suggest or implies. Of what's emergent from the book and transcends it.
Here's the simplest of examples I just quoted below:
"a sudden expostulation of amorous possibility"
Basically four relevant words that suggest much more, and yet that couldn't be more precise and delimiting perfectly the meaning of the text.
SUDDEN - Something abrupt, unforeseen. Something that breaks whatever came before. Interruption. A suggestion of change. Change of course. Break point. Something new.
EXPOSTULATION - "Postulate", comes from a latin word. It is used in geometry. "to assume or claim as true". An axiom. A principle but, in particular, a starting point. Following "sudden", it's what the New Wave is based on. Something that is both true and undeniable and new.
But you aren't unaware of context. The context is what happens in the mind of a bear. A bear doesn't think logically and its thoughts aren't articulated through language. So what it thinks is like an image that is projected on the mind. Ex-postulation. "Ex" stand for "out of". Something coming out. Something that, "suddenly", takes shape. That becomes real. A sudden axiom, a change in the bear's mind, coming as an image, a sudden apparition. But "expostulation", as a word, also directly suggest a demand. A claim. People who pretend their government responds to their demands. Here standing for a sudden request, something that suddenly exists, appears, is true and can't be denied. Also something totalitarian, that doesn't admit objections and that erases everything that was before.
OF - Of what? What is the object?
POSSIBILITY - The object isn't what is sexual. It is not being amorous. The object is the entire realm of "possibility". Whatever it suggests in your mind. Facts and potential. Wonder. Whatever is unspeakable, just suggested. Omitted because it's all in potential, whatever it is. Just the state of being in potential.
AMOROUS - Amorous is used as an adjective, not as the object. In this case it simply gives quality to the "possibility", and delimits it. It let's the object of the thought open up to embrace all possibility, without restraint. Yet it delimits it to give it a quality and express what it is for. But it's up to the reader imagine the "what". While keeping it open to everything that keeps "amorous" as a quality.
So here's why the language isn't powerful for its objective meaning, for what is denotative. But for everything else it suggest, precisely and without limits, in the mind of the reader. It conveys an idea in four words that is precisely what it wants to express (no misinterpretation), yet open to a world of possibility.
Submitted by Abalieno on January 25, 2010 - 03:20.
Still the very first few pages. I'll stop before PS Publishing has to sue me for showing too much of the book :)
Here's you have an example of VERY unreliable narrator who at the same time expresses the typical narcissism of an artist for his art. I love Erikson's original use of language, filled with creativity and love for words.
Only Erikson could write "a sudden expostulation of amorous possibility". And in spite of this indulgence in the use of language I admire that everything that is written has still a meaning and it's not just there for empty embellishment (Gene Wolfe for example is even more indulgent).

If you wonder what exactly IS the art of writing, if it comes so far from plausibility, here's the distilled idea, perfectly summarized by our narrator who admits of being unreliable:

And here an example of half-serious remark that still stays in a parodic context (here not shown):

Submitted by Abalieno on January 23, 2010 - 11:04.
As I wrote on Twitter I got this sexy, awesomely crafted book (three illustration and at 181 pages almost twice the length of the three previous novellas), and proceed to reading with insanely high expectations since I believe the previous three novellas are above everything else Erikson wrote.
The book starts with elegant writing, in a tone that is somewhere between the famous Blade Runner's ending monologue in reverse (meaning that here it starts the story) and the Greek poets that used to begin their works with formulaic flourishes where they invoked the muse to favor their art and inspire. All within the sub-text typical of Erikson of men against gods. He does not beg their help, but almost commands them to stay back, and witness.
Written as himself (Erikson) while disguised as one of the characters.
I've read that in this book Bauchelain and Korbal Broach barely appear, I've read that this book may disappoint Erikson's fans. Ken writes: "a book that is all about fandom, author intent, artistic integrity, criticism, contemplative self-doubt and cannibalism." I always love Erikson's audacity and recklessness. I admire courage and ambition. I don't get the novel to expect and pretend a certain story. I want to be brought to places. I just want to read something that gives feelings and thoughts. And something that is true deep down.
I was actually worried about the way Erikson would deal with this fourth novella because the relationship between the two necromancers and their manservant Emancipor Reese needed to be renovated to not fall into repetitiousness and predictability. Erikson was able to do this wonderfully in the third novella (The Healthy Dead) where the dissertations of Bauchelain on the nature of society were a masterpiece on their own. A great satire, incisive and funny. But where to go from there? It seems Erikson surprises once again telling a completely different story that takes place around the central characters instead of having them right on the scene. And Erikson here writes about themes that I want to know all about.
Great things await me, I'm sure.
Here's the quote for you:

Even the gods must wait spellbound.
Feed then, or perish.
Submitted by Abalieno on January 11, 2010 - 06:02.
This is how Dave Eggers' foreword to DFW's Infinite Jest begins:
In recent years, there have been a few literary dustups — how insane is it that such a thing exists in a world at war? — about readability in contemporary fiction. In essence, there are some people who feel that fiction should be easy to read, that it’s a popular medium that should communicate on a somewhat conversational wavelength. On the other hand, there are those who feel that fiction can be challenging, generally and thematically, and even on a sentence-by-sentence basis — that it’s okay if a person needs to work a bit while reading, for the rewards can be that much greater when one’s mind has been exercised and thus (presumably) expanded.
Much in the way that would-be civilized debates are polarized by extreme thinkers on either side, this debate has been made to seem like an either/or proposition, that the world has room for only one kind of fiction, and that the other kind should be banned and its proponents hunted down and, why not, dismembered.
But while the polarizers have been going at it, there has existed a silent legion of readers, perhaps the majority of readers of literary fiction, who don’t mind a little of both. They believe, though not too vocally, that so-called difficult books can exist next to, can even rub bindings suggestively with, more welcoming fiction. These readers might actually read both kinds of fiction themselves, sometimes in the same week. There might even be — though it’s impossible to prove — readers who find it possible enjoy Thomas Pynchon one day, and Elmore Leonard the next. Or even: readers who can have fun with Jonathan Franzen in the morning while wrestling with William Gaddis at night.
It's not excessively distant from the old debate about Fantasy books and serious literature, caused by the human necessity of drawing boundaries everywhere in order to have the illusion of "knowing".
One of the (many) reasons why Infinite Jest is special is that it pretends you have no boundaries of any kind. It will force you to play on different levels and welcome all of them. There's stuff both high and low, densely weaved together. If you try to extricate it by applying boundaries, you are deemed to fail.
I started to think that there's no one on the face of earth who's more suited for this book. I'm THE ideal reader. For a number of reasons. One of them is that I devour everything that is "culture" without any boundaries.
I love passionately and enjoy (without a real purpose or deliberate intent) everything that is culture (which, oddly enough, can be made into bits and pass on a PC). Books, movies, games, music,comics, anime. And within the same genre I go through everything. This is why when it comes to games I play RPGs, FPS, RTS, hardcore military simulators, flight sims, driving games, managerial sports, platforms, adventures, space sims of various degrees of complexity, arcades new and old, fighting games, ASCII stuff like Dwarf Fortress. And the more one of these creates a world on its own the happier I am. I contemplate degrees of infinity. But this condition is also not something unique to me. Many "gamers" out there enjoy different types of games. I just don't stop to games.
So this is why I am a movie enthusiast. Experimental and independent cinema, rare Japanese movies, documentaries, stuff old and new, as well accessibile comedy or the next (here in Italy) Avatar. And even this is fairly normal. But take something narrower and more specific. I started again watching anime this past year, and I have no boundaries. I enjoy something like Naruto or Fairy Tail like I can enjoy a romantic shoujo comedy in light tones, or something absurd like "Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei", or the fanservice-filled Chu-Bra and KissxSis, or mecha stuff (Gundam, Macross), edgy, incredibly deep and convoluted stuff I love (Evangelion), or moe shows (loved K-On), or anime about sport. In fact the most relevant common trait in Japanese anime is that they also have no boundaries. You can find stuff of all kinds and all genres and then more, often mixed together. Stuff high an low, in between. Targeted at niches or large public. For children, for adults, for both. Cutesy lovely stuff like the "Chi's Sweet Home" as well the psychedelic Trapeze. Then I started to watch (and deeply love, like hardwired to enjoy) all the Kamen Rider series I could find, as well great Japanese Tv Series like Mr. Brain or Nobuta wo Produce.
With books I have a similar approach. In the last two years I've dwelt and explored the fantasy genre for the most part, but before I've read all sort of stuff, from very low (or very odd, I was a fan of the pioneer of "chick-lit" Marian Keyes, before the genre was invented) to very high (up to almost occult and hermetic, like Strindberg). That's why one day I go and decide to start studying the Kaballah, or Swodenberg's Arcana Caelestia, or Ayn Rand (and yes, I've read parts of Dianetics too, many years ago). Worlds that open, filled with interesting and FUN things.
And I'm not brainlessly swallowing stuff passively, because I have my opinions, ideas, tastes. I participate with what I do, engage actively, piece things together, absorb. Criticize wildly and precisely when I have to. I'm not even the typical geek. I don't like Star Trek (I'm much more a Star Wars and Battlestar guy), don't like fancy T-shirts and don't wear glasses even if I should (glasses make me feel like things look more distorted or flawed than without)!
When it comes to culture I don't bring prejudices with me and devour everything, and am able to interface on different levels. From impossibly low (I love here in Italy the local Big Brother and another show where they dance and sing), to impossibly high (we have here on TV some crazy stuff late in the night, something that for example made me discover James Hillman). Obviously within my very human and average limits of understanding, but without prejudices and without boundaries. And I watch even the most stupid and low-denominator stuff with extreme attention. I never perfunctory watch TV or keep it in the background, for example.
This reflects the way I view things on a very broad level. Culture needs to be set free. Stuff that you like AS WELL stuff that looks outrageous. Because ideas need to be free and circulate. Positive ideas as well as utterly negative ideas. Racism, swastikas. Those ideas need to be expressed in their entirety.
If you accept -- and I do -- that freedom of speech is important, then you are going to have to defend the indefensible. That means you are going to be defending the right of people to read, or to write, or to say, what you don't say or like or want said.
This because I think knowledge is NEVER negative, its use can be and needs to be persecuted, but not knowledge itself or the expression of ideas you don't personally like. In the end knowing more is the only brittle way to make a better world and there's no misstep that isn't worth the price. It's ignorance the only real source of everything that is bad on this world.
P.S.
Another reason why I'm IJ's ideal reader is that the book is filled with characters that are deeply flawed. I find all their flaws in myself. And it is quite amusing that I can contain within myself all the flaws of a bunch of characters that were, like, made already in a caricatural way to be representative of those flaws. Which puts me very close to DFW, the man. Even if I can sadly only enjoy the surrogate of pure genius.
Submitted by Abalieno on December 30, 2009 - 00:46.
From the latest interview at Pat blog. Trite questions, but interesting answers. I still wish someone will make an interview with him discussing more directly what's in the books, like this one with Sanderson.
The only thing that rankled me in some of the reviews was the expression of doubt regarding my ability to pull off this finale, to which I respond: for fuck sake, there's been nine books so far, and each one has delivered the punch I intended (even if some readers objected to some of those punches), so where does this doubt come from? I'll deliver. I always have and there's no sign of stumbling this time around. Yeesh.
- After the massive commercial success of the Lord of the Rings films, do you look at the growing mainstream success of authors like George R. R. Martin and Neil Gaiman, following in the impressive footsteps of Terry Pratchett, and take comfort that genre fiction is starting to become more accepted as a whole by society? Do you think the perceived social stigma attached to it can ever be overturned so that authors such as yourself are compared on a level playing-field to those who write in other more widely "respected" genres? And, I suppose, do you actually care?
No, no, and sometimes. With each writer you have named, the critics invariably practise exceptionalism: these writers are not fine representatives of their genre; by virtue of their fineness, they have left the genre. By this alchemy the stigma remains. Will my stuff someday cross that threshold? What if it does? I will simply have been made ... exceptional.
And about progress on the last book:
Hope to be done by the beginning of the summer. It's coming along just fine. My son has read what I've done to date, and looks at me and says: "It's all going down, isn't it?" And no, he doesn't mean that in any negative sense. But he's right. It's all coming down. It's all coming down.
Also good to know that cooperation with Esslemont is once again strong.
Now if only the novella could reach my house instead of being in vacation around the world...
Submitted by Abalieno on December 26, 2009 - 19:05.
This is one of the quieter and more perfunctory passages in Infinite Jest. Meaning that it represents no pinnacle of absurdity or insanity. Yet it represents some excellent writing and has some qualities and peculiarities that define the book or, better, the writer.
Like many gifted bureaucrats, Hal's mother's adoptive brother Charles Tavis is physically small in a way that seems less endocrine than perspectival. His smallness resembles the smallness of something that's farther away from you than it wants to be, plus is receding.218 This weird appearance of recessive drift, together with the compulsive hand-movements that followed his quitting smoking some years back, helped contribute to the quality of perpetual frenzy about the man, a kind of locational panic that it's easy to see explains not only Tavis's compulsive energy - he and Avril, pretty much the Dynamic Duo of compulsion, between them, sleep, in their second-floor rooms in the Headmaster's House - separate rooms - tend to sleep, between them, about as much as any one normal insomniac - but maybe also contributes to the pathological openness of his manner, the way he thinks out loud about thinking out loud, a manner Ortho Stice can imitate so eerily that he's been prohibited by the male 18's from doing his Tavis-impression in front of the younger players, for fear that the littler kids will find it impossible to take the real Tavis seriously at the times he needs to be taken seriously.
As for the older kids, Stice can make them all double up now merely by shielding his eyes with his hand and assuming a horizon-scan expression whenever Tavis heaves into view, seeming to recede even as he bears on.
218. The late J. O. Incandenza's Meniscus Optical Products Ltd.'s development of those weird wide-angle rear-view mirrors on the sides of automobiles that so diminish the cars behind you that federal statute requires them to have printed right on the glass that Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear, which little imprints Incandenza found so disconcerting that he was kind of shocked when U.S. automakers and importers bought rights on the mirrors, way back, for Incandenza's first unsettling entrepreneurial payday - E.T.A.'s like to postulate that the mirrors had been inspired by the always-foreshortened Charles Tavis.
Some consider DFW's writing excessively convoluted and verbose, some sort of amused deliberate work that the author puts on the page merely to screw up with the reader and giving him an hard time or blatantly boast competency with words. Like a sort of stylistic mannerism that is all flash and no substance.
Instead DFW knows that words are nothing lesser than the fabric of reality and manipulates them with extreme care. Like something you fear and respect. There are no wasted words in Infinite Jest. Everything is deliberate. Every words has a weight that goes beyond what appears on the page. All that is written is complexly and deeply layered.
Even more important: Wallace has an obsession on truth. An analytical observation of things that are truthful. So he has to use words in a way that mirrors and reflects reality, maybe slightly refracted, like The Mad Stork's lenses. And this obsession on truth is not something you can escape or betray. And it's also not unlike the block/disconnection that Hal has at the very beginning of the book.
Also: Infinite Jest is the most generous book out there.
Submitted by Abalieno on December 23, 2009 - 23:40.
It seems the more book reviews I try to write the harder they get, but I wanted to try anyway. I read this book in slightly more than three weeks, 1070 pages. I'm not a fast reader so it's quite an achievement for me. I didn't even expect to read it whole. As I'm used to do, I usually just read the beginning, and, when satisfied, put it away to read fully later on. Especially because I had the Infinite Jest task at hand and I didn't want to risk of losing track on that. Instead I started reading, curiosity pushed me past page 100 and at that point I just wanted to see what was next and there was no return.
This book is a real page-turner. With incredible constancy I kept reading way past my own target for that day. I told myself I'd finish the chapter, then read the first lines of the following to see where it was going next and continued for another thirty pages. It's superbly readable. It's also worth pointing out that I'm not exactly a Stephen King fan. I only read "IT" and that was many, many years ago. So I don't know how this book compares to his others, or if he's back to form, or whatever. On the internet there are mixed opinions. What I say is that this book is written really well. Something I didn't expect.
I should make a distinction between the "what" and the "how". Between the craft and the material. Not unlike the review I was trying to write about A Game of Thrones, it's the craft that shines here. The book is masterfully driven and always under control. In books with a so high page count and large cast of characters there are always a number of diversions. I remember from IT that King loved to give his town its own story, and explore it fully, with patience. Plenty of stories to tell, interesting characters that demand their spotlight time. That is all pleasant to an extent, but it's the opposite of what happens here. The story in this book goes straight on. No looking back, no diversions, no flashbacks taking the story on a different level. The whole thing stays focused, both time-wise and location-wise. It moves linearly onward. The spotlight lights on Chester's Mill and its residents, never ever leaves them in time or place. This is also the major strength of this novel: it's all incredibly focused, tight and moving on with unrelenting pace. Only by being very picky I could say that there are two slight passages, one about the middle of the book, another before the end, where the careful domino set-up takes a bit too much exposition time, but this is more due to subtraction than bloat. Things need moving and they are a bit downplayed in respect to others so that the story doesn't go out of focus.
The books gives you no pauses even in the way it's structured. There are bigger titled sections that chunk the story and give it a broad theme, but then the story is written in quick chapters that keep the pages turning and turning fast. There are many characters and points of view, but they never go on their own unrelated tangent that may or may not converge later on. Every story thread and point of view is kept tight to the main story that goes through the book. You are never left longing in frustration for one side plot while the book jumps to a different point of view. When this happens what comes next is closely related to what you left, and when the writer deliberately abruptly breaks the chapter is to cleverly build suspense that is then satisfied shortly after. The book is generous and doesn't pretend more patience than what it deserves.
What I described is what defines this book. The tight focus and pacing. The only two moments where the action appears to relax coincide with the two I pointed out above, preceding the two major events in the book. Everything else stays on track, moving straight and never slowing down. The book looks huge but it reads like a fresh breeze. It goes down easy and never at the expense of quality. It's very well handled. One could probably make a kind of book-reality sync and match the way time passes in the book with real time. It takes 1070 pages to tell linearly what happens in a week. Day after day. With absolutely no dull moments.
Now let's talk about "the dome". Everyone likely knows what the book is about whether they read it or not. The theme is what sells the book and the theme is that simple. This fancy barrier/dome comes down on a small town and this is the story of those caught within. Will they survive? Will they get out of the barrier? This is obviously a trick (the dome) so that the writer can focus on the real theme: the stories of those characters. Their lives, their emotions. What people do under stress, what they become. This is a story of people. You are meant to connect with the characters and live along with them this nightmare under the dome. Get in close contact with the best and worst people can become. The way the put on and off masks. But one also wonders if this "dome" stays just as a trick, external to the book, a writing device, unexplained, untouched, inviolable, unknowable. A mere artifice that enables the writer to have this huge magnifying lens on the characters, and watch closely. Set them on fire, maybe. Watch them run around with nowhere to go, trapped in there. Which comes to be the cipher of the book itself. I'll say that, surprisingly, King tackles the theme of the dome itself (even if for 1050 pages the focus is somewhere else, and it is where the book works best). You won't be left with a mystery and the whole thing will be explained and understood by the end. It's not really the point, since the book is about what happens under the dome way more than about what the dome is, but the book is generous on this aspect and you will be delivered a decent explanation that wraps everything up neatly. If you were wondering.
Which leads me to talk whether it lives or not up to the task. While I was reading and turning the pages I just loved it, I already said, but I also wondered if the destination was worth it (payoff?) and if my opinion could change once I got to the very end. It's like if what you read is at stake, because it all seems to have a point a go somewhere. Is this "somewhere" a worthy destination? Well, readers will likely be pleased and deluded. Depending a lot on what you expect. From my point of view the journey is wonderful and engaging, the destination satisfying, but nothing more than that. The moral theme that plays by the end seems on a different note than the rest of the book, and, once again, it's the rest that works better. The end of the book is a valley after a peak, and it can disappoint. Everything is wrapped up neatly and yet feels like something is missing. I also think that the book works better on its meta-fictional explanation than in its fictional one (because, again, there's a real end that fills all mysteries).
What readers may feel like a real problem can be summarized with this: everything is as it appears to be. This constantly through the book. The craft is far superior to the material at hand. The story works so great, delivers moment of real suspense, always keeps you on your toes. But it's also kind of predictable and unsurprising. There are various moments in the book where guesses about mysteries are tossed around, and almost always things are exactly as they appeared to be with the delivery of the very first hint. There's almost nothing truly spicy to unveil, and yet the book haunts you and makes you read and read on as if your life depended on it. What it takes is some awesome "craft". King just executes brilliantly (and writes here really well) ideas that on their own wouldn't hold the book. This also because he can truly realize characters and make them live out the page. None really original, but executed to perfection, a pleasure to read.
The book also tries to kick you in the nuts plenty of times. Lots of deaths in this book and for me some of them are quite hard to get through. A few times I wondered why I was doing this to myself and read a book so harsh. There's some masochism involved. It's not an horror, and this makes it harder to bear because the way it starts and moves on (at least 1/3 through) is hyper-realistic. There are no real supernatural elements that may downplay and estrange from what happens, so it's harder to establish some distance. But, thankfully, the writing helps. King is able to balance things and sometimes he can produce something comical (yet authentic) out of an awful situation. It's not a book that just kicks and slaps. It's also plenty fun.
The writing is not my favorite style even if I appreciated it. The writer weighs in explicitly. At various times he's there beside you, right in the novel, speaking with his own voice, setting things up. I find this way of writing somewhat "untruthful". Something manneristic and showy. I also noticed that a few times different characters think metaphorically about their situation, and I thought that this was more a typical habit belonging to a writer than what someone usually does, especially since people don't really have a good grasp of what situation they are in and their metaphorical thoughts in the book are too good and neat to be plausible. I don't like much this tangible and direct presence and influence of the writer himself in the book, yet it didn't get in the way and I was still able to enjoy the book.
This is what it is. The story of the people who live in a town, the best, the worst that comes out of them. But then, even more, what turns the town from fine to armageddon in just four days is internal. Triggered but not made by the dome. The dome works more as a reveal than the real immediate problem. People project problems on the dome, but it's their own problems to surface and take them by the throat. The pace is unrelenting, the focus always tight. An agile and thrilling read. There are various hints that set the story somewhere in the close future. Obama is still president. There's even a kind of queer endorsement of his health care plan. In the book it is already approved and working but the context seems to suggest that, no matter of good intentions, the Americans will find a way to screw it up. The plot and characters are not overly original or surprising, and King uses tricks to create suspense that have been tried and honed a million of times across different media. But they still work. Everything is splendidly executed even if not entirely new, and reading is a pleasure.
I agree with what Dan Simmons said about this book. It's a breath of fresh air that you can't usually expect from a so prolific writer who's probably already squeezed out all the creative juice. Instead there's nothing tired about it, nothing perfunctory or superfluous. You can feel the enthusiasm and drive that went in the story and characters. It all seems to come with no effort. To balance all this it also shows a perfect control of structure and pacing and perfect execution all around. I don't know if it's the best King, but it's lively and fun.
There are a couple of big moral themes at play, but I think the most fitting is the dismay about how far and wrong things can go before you can fully realize it. It's an entirely political concept and it's the true protagonist of the novel. Unsettling because we are all under the dome, and it doesn't end by just closing the book.
P.S.
If you are interested in the meta explanation I've hinted I can suggest to follow this link.
Submitted by Abalieno on December 10, 2009 - 00:17.
From a humorous interview (an aside: when no one is able to make a decent interview, writers have to interview each other to compensate):
As you're probably well aware, editors in the book world often do a lot of the work for a fraction of the glory, and tend to serve as scapegoats for the wrath of readers. If people like a book – well written. If they hate it – badly edited. And the odd thing is that it's virtually impossible to tell from the finished product how good the editing is, as you've no idea what state it started in.
Submitted by Abalieno on December 1, 2009 - 23:02.
This is just ridiculous enough to deserve a post.
The 15th September EA releases "Need For Speed: Shift". It's a surprise because the game is very, very good and far from the poor arcade titles that were released in the last few years and that got worse with every new title in the franchise. It was a quite brilliant and unexpected move to hire an external team specialized on a simulator and apply to it enough production value to make it also graphically advanced.
The game sells well in spite of a good competition in the genre and a number of important releases in the same weeks. From there everything turns to shit. It's like EA realized they unknowingly did something good for once and kicked into gear to right the wrong. Shit on what is good, apparently their greatest talent.
The game has lots of problems, obvious bugs and lack of support for simple things (like the impossibility to configure some controls). Most of these problems are fixed by players on the PC because it is discovered that the game uses a compression for the game files that comes from a previous title. So they can unpack the game logic and edit it. Fix most of the problems.
Yet it takes exactly THREE MONTHS to EA to make an official patch that is hoped to fix all the problems the game has (some game-breaking). In October on the forums a community representative explained that controls couldn't be reconfigured because the art team didn't have enough time to redo the screens. I shit you not. EA isn't able to add some lines of text to the controls page. They say IT'S TOO HARD.
End of September and the project manager of the game explains that all the problems reported have been fixed internally and the team is working on optimizations (since the game has been patronized by Nvidia and required to run like shit on ATI systems). A new patch is expected for the following week, and another later with those optimizations.
Two days later the project manager vanishes from the internet. Silence about the patch. Nothing comes for two weeks, then a message on the forums from a community manager saying that it will take at the very least two more weeks because the patch was in QA hands.
In November they say the patch comes in December.
Now three months are needed to make a patch to a game that was rough on the edges and that had some very serious bugs. Most of these fixed by resourceful players in a matter of days. But it takes the full force of EA three months to hack together a patch. And controls can't be reconfigured, even three months later, because the art team just isn't capable of producing "art" for a configuration screen.
It's worth pointing out that the UI on the PC has been handled externally from the studio that is responsible of the actual game.
Today people wait for the patch. The web team "are currently in a meeting but once they're out I will get them to update the downloads page and release the patch".
This surely a mention, if not a prize, for worst post-release support on a game that could have actually been very good.
Submitted by Abalieno on November 20, 2009 - 05:50.
On Twitter I said that the RPS review of Modern Warfare 2 is one of the best reviews I've ever read. Precise, insightful and to the point. Instead I disagree with the sort of rant that Kieron Gillen wrote today about the particular level. So here is what I think about it:
Modern Warfare 2 never intended nor was expected to be a realistic simulator. It's not Arma 2 or Operation Flashpoint. It's instead a bombastic, gratuitous and exploitative Hollywood experience. It wants to be cool without being smart. So, as with everything, the point is to criticize it for what it wants to be. What this game wants is to sell copies and be hugely profitable, shatter records. And it seems that it is doing just that. What it is interesting is to understand why it happens and why this game sells so much and is so much successful.
It's successful because it arrogantly boasts how rich it is. In your face. That level is no exception compared to the others. It's lush. The shock value is secondary to the visual, and even in that level the gameplay is gold. Many people this week go to see that awful movie that is 2012. In a very vaguely similar way Stephen King wrote a book where he traps a small town within a dome. To observe people get pushed to the limit and see how they react. That level in the game doesn't need to be realistic. The RPS article says: "As others have noted, the most disturbing part of No Russian is its context. A few seconds previously you’re involved in a high-speed James Bond chase involving snowmobiles. A few seconds later, you’re mowing down civilians. That tonal shift isn’t brutal. It’s laughable." There's no brutal transition instead. The whole game is like that. In the same way the snowmobiles chase was so utterly unrealistic and bombastic, so is what follows. The game wants to resemble reality, pretend to be recognizable and familiar enough to be fun. So what they do in that level is putting a lot of work in the animations and scripting to the extremes and polish and detail. Make an airport and make it good to watch and play in. Make it lavish. Tons of stuff goes on and everything is very nicely done and resembling reality enough to feel somewhat unsettling. What works here is not the moral dilemma, it's just that kind of open massacre that, justified or plausible or not, stays in the mind of the people. In the same way you could have set it in a school or some other densely populated place (a church, a mall, whatever). It works.
They could do it, so why not? It's cool in a stupid way. The plot doesn't make sense but it never wanted to. It's a joke, an excuse to be spectacular. I suspect that even the purple prose about war is just there as a parody and the fake pretense to make it "serious". Bombastic drama. But not serious in the sense that it has (or wants to have) an actual depth, it only needs to give an excuse to explore the possibilities that are "cool" to see and play, and that are vaguely connected with a common idea of "modern" warfare. A massacre in an airport is cool to see and play. The russian invasion is cool to see and play, so is the snowmobile chase. These are all silly excuses to "enable" and pack together the most disparate experiences I've seen in a shooter. If you strip that level of its story elements you get a very fun shooting sequence. You can replay it various times and always find something new you didn't notice. The first part starts in black, hearing just sounds, then a terse dialogue that builds the tension, then the opening that is rather spectacular and sudden. From that point onward the experience is mostly visual and well crafted. The music is right, the extremely slow speed mimics in a way how you are trapped in a role, forced into a role. This slowness also makes everything kind of detached, yet deliberate and unavoidable. It doesn't want to really make sense, it just sets a mood. Then there's the sequence where you fight the cops. Again wonderfully executed. You can blow up the airplane engines, you can shoot at the helicopters and make them explode, lots of stuff going on and a rather fun shooting sequence with lush graphic everywhere. No other shooter out there is so well realized and filled with details. Beautiful to watch, fun to play.
This controversial level in the end won't produce any important debate, or make people think. It doesn't want. It wants to be cool and spectacular. In the end that level sells copies, and it probably sells more copies than if it wasn't there. People talk about the game, it draws the attention even from those that wouldn't look at it otherwise. In the end people don't buy it because the plot gave them deep thoughts, but because the game is lush, rich, fun to play, varied, spectacular.
The story stays stupid enough to not get in the way of the shooting. This sells copies. There is no over exposition or dense stuff that would turn people off. It's what Entertainment wants to be. Accessible and straightforward and without any other pretense than selling copies without scruples. It's the simple and cynical and deliberate and lucid commercial success, done the way it has to be done. The writers that worked on Modern Warfare knew what their role was and didn't pretend to act as protagonists. They knew very well the story is very secondary, only "enabling" the shooting to happen and weakly link together the most disparate and edgy shooting scenes.
Submitted by Abalieno on November 9, 2009 - 20:57.
Via Twitter.
Mythic Entertainment, responsible for Warhammer Online, just laid off 80 people, about 40% of its employees.
Lum:
Don't know anything about numbers, but literally everyone I know who was still at Mythic outside of upper management is looking for work this morning.
Blame the economy, but not just.
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