A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin

I read A Wizard of Earthsea in memory of a friend who passed away far too early.  It was one of her favourites.  

I first read this book when I was in high school  Quite a few decades have elapsed since then, and my memories of it were mere tattered cobwebs waving in a gentle breeze; however, it stands up nicely to being re-read.  There are intriguing themes and concepts, and Le Guin's use of language is deft.  This is more than a Y.A. novel and certainly appealed to my adult self.

The protagonist of the tale, Ged, is a young boy who becomes apprenticed to a wizard called Ogion.  They live on the island of Gont, one of hundreds in the archipelago called Earthsea.  Ged is restless and ambitious, and he becomes frustrated with Ogion's cautious method of instruction.  Ogion tells him: Manhood is patience.  Mastery is nine times patience.  Ged cannot settle down, and Ogion recommends he goes on the island of Roke to attend a school for wizards.  On Roke, Ged displays a precocious talent for magic, and this makes the older students envious.  Ged is provoked into a magic duel, and in his pride he oversteps his skills with disastrous results.  Will he ever be able to find redemption?

Le Guin had an interest in Taoism, and its philosophy of balance in nature underpins the tale.  On Roke, the boys are told by their master:

The world is in balance, in Equilibrium.  A wizard's power of Changing and of Summoning can shake the balance of the world.  It is dangerous, that power.  It is most perilous.  It must follow knowledge, and serve need.  To light a candle is to cast a shadow ...

Of course, it is advice that will go unheeded, and a great harm is caused.  It is interesting to think of our modern times where the power of human technology to change the world in our image is also changing the natural equilibrium of the environment.

Le Guin also introduced the idea that everything has its own True Name, and learning that name gives one mastery over that thing.  A true name can be divined by gaining deep knowledge of a thing, be it animal, vegetable or mineral.  What one does with that knowledge and power is an ethical matter.  Do we chose mastery over balance?  Again, this has resonances for us in the 21st Century.

Time to think deeply.

Vale, Kerry, and thanks for reminding me about A Wizard of Earthsea.

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is, for the most part, set in England in the period between 1806 and 1816,  at the time of the Napoleonic Wars.  But it is not quite the England we know: in this England magic, real magic, had flourished for centuries.  At the opening of the tale, there are dozens of people devoted to the study of magic.  There's just one problem: no one can actually do anything magical.  So they find consolation through naming themselves "theoretical magicians".  Finally, someone asks "Where has English magic gone?"  Right on cue, they get the answer to the question with the arrival of England's only living "practical magician", one who can actually do magic.  And then things get interesting. 

The action takes place in the time of Jane Austen, and Susanna Clarke emulates the story-telling style of the times.  She uses obsolete spelling, such as 'chuse' instead of 'choose', archaisms and diction; however, the speed of the narration is modern in its briskness.  Although it takes a long time for any kind of plot to emerge, Clarke manages to keep the reader's interest through her use of language, the timing of climaxes and resolutions, and entertaining digressions in the form of explanatory and didactic footnotes.  Also of interest is the interactions between the nervous, selfish and conservative Mr Norrell and the more expansive and ambitious Jonathan Strange.  A strong cast of minor characters added to the mix help to keep the action moving, sometimes in very unexpected directions.

The book is divided into three parts.  Lamentably, the last of these lacks the narrative coherence of the previous two.  The tale wanders, seemingly aimlessly, from incident to incident and character to character.  It is only in the final few chapters that things get back on track for the final denouement.  One may be forgiven for thinking that the story is 200 pages too long.

Overall, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is an engaging story that has the reader eagerly turning the pages.  Despite my reservations about the length of book, it was a worthwhile read.

Small Gods by Terry Pratchett

The once mighty god Om mistakenly incarnates into the body of an innocuous animal and his divine powers are diminshed accordingly.  The only person he can find who believes in him is a simple-minded and illiterate novice priest called Brutha.  Meanwhile, the Omnian religion is run by an inquisitorial priesthood, its followers are terrified, and a new but secret religion based on the writings of an unemployed philosopher is gaining support.  War, both civil and international, is almost certain.  Can Om and Brutha reform the church and prevent bloodshed?

Small Gods is an investigation into the relationship between individual belief and religious orthodoxy, the relationship between the church and state, and how religious zealotry can blind the believer to the actuality of his/her god.  

Of course, Pratchett mixes his satire with liberal dollops of good humour.  The pace of this novel is a bit laboured compared to his previous novels, but he does have to cover a lot of complex ground.  Small Gods is a one-off novel that sits outside the usual witches/wizards/death/city watch canons of the Discworld books, and is  set much earlier chronologically.  Later and more "contemporary" Discworld novels will feature followers of the Omnian religion.

Not amongst Pratchett's best, but still a worthy and thought-provoking tale.

The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents by Terry Pratchett

A talking cat in league with a bunch of talking rats and a young human with a pipe.  What could go wrong?  Nothing, until this travelling band reaches the remote town of Bad Blintz.  Then they find something nasty is waiting for them just below the surface.

This is Terry Pratchett's first Young Adult novel.  It is set on the Discworld.  The plot is clever, full of twists and rattles along at a jolly pace.  The jokes are fresh and the narrative style is crisp and refreshing.

Pratchett explores many themes in this book: power, utopian dreams, kindness and cruelty. He draws parallels between rats and humans, and the humans don't come out so well.  It seems he is preparing the younger readers for some of the realities of adult life.  The balloon of utopian thinking is well and truly popped in this one.  As is usual with Pratchett, the darker truths of life are leavened with humour and are, therefore, that much more palatable.  No doubt about it, Pratchett is a master of satire.

This book can be enjoyed by adults and adolescents alike.  I liked it, and so did my inner child.

Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett

Reaper Man is the second Discworld novel to features Death as the central character (the previous one being Mort).  Always good for a giggle, Pratchett does not disappoint with this one.

For one reason or another, Death suddenly finds himself unemployed. When the office of Death is vacated, an imbalance between the forces of life and death has unforeseen consequences, as the 130 year old wizard Windle Poons will soon find out.

As is usual with Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man is a clever and inventive tale full of puns, gags and pop-culture references (the title itself being a play of words on the film Repo Man).

Thematically, the novel examines the importance of caring for and about human beings:  it is what life (and Death) is all about.  In addition, Pratchett introduces the Fresh Start Club, and is the beginning of the movement towards Ankh-Morpork becoming an increasingly inclusive and cosmopolitan city, a theme he returns to subsequent Discworld novels.

Such a nice way to fill in a lazy weekend.

The Thief of Bagdad by Achmed Abdullah

Another trip down memory lane.  I picked up a hardback copy of this novel at a school fete.  Maybe I was nine or ten.   Adventure, romance, quests and magic in mediaeval Baghdad: this book was my cup of tea.

On re-reading it over forty years later, I found that there was still a large part of me that is receptive to what this book has to offer.  Not that it is the greatest  literature - it is not -  but it is literate and intelligent.

Abdullah is a natural storyteller.  How easy it would be to imagine him in the markets of old Baghdad, holding his audience spell-bound as he weaves his tale.  His diction is purple, and perfectly so for this purpose; the action has its climaxes and respites in good measure; and the hero is sufficiently well-drawn to make him interesting (he is a Muslim who moves increasingly from a mercenary life towards an awakening spirituality).

The Thief of Bagdad began life as a script for the Douglas Fairbanks movie of the same name (1924).  Abdullah turned it into a novel in the same year.  While one suspects that a lot of what we are told in the tale is pure Hollywood, there are enough domestic details in the book to evoke (with what feels like some degree of verisimilitude) a time and a way of life that no longer exist. Didactic without being overly so; and best of all, the book is highly enjoyable.

The Shepherd's Crown by Terry Pratchett

How sad, and how glad.  The Shepherd's Crown is the latest and last novel from the very great Terry Pratchett.  While it is not his best, finest or funniest creation, it may be his wisest, and that makes it a fitting finale.

The fifth novel in the Tiffany Aching series for young adults, The Shepherd's Crown begins by recapitulating the device of the first Granny Weatherwax book, Equal Rites (1987), and turning it on its head: this time a boy wants to become a witch.  Then something  big happens, and the walls separating the worlds weaken sufficiently so that an old enemy is able to enter from the other side.  It is up to Tiffany Aching and all the friends she can make and muster to save the world one more time.

Unlike in his Discworld novels for adults, Pratchett states his themes out loud rather than through the use of satire and parody: leave the world a better place than you found it; be kind to others, especially those worse off than yourself - it is good for you; make friends where you can; do not kill without need; believe that redemption is possible, even for the worst of us; and remember that there is no place like home.  This is magic indeed, and it is everywhere you go (if you take it with you).

In the end, Terry Pratchett has left us with a consolation rather than a conclusion.  There are loose ends, to be sure, and what happens to his characters is now left for us to imagine: the witches, the wizards, the City Watch, the Librarian, Death, and the cavalcade of minor-but-memorable characters - good and bad - that accompanied them.

Farewell, Terry Pratchett, and thank you.  You made my world a better place.  And, yes, I like cats.

Moving Pictures by Terry Pratchett

Moving Pictures is the 10th novel in the Discworld series, and this time Terry Pratchett has Hollywood in his satirical crosshairs.

The ancient hill of Holy Wood has lost its last guardian, and something within it begins to stir and  call out to the world.  Meanwhile, the alchemists of the city of Ankh-Morpork have developed a process for creating moving pictures.  Almost immediately, entrepreneurs and wannabe stars hear the call, and the action moves from the city to Holy Wood.  But Holy Wood has more magic than just that of the silver screen.  Who can tell what danger it will pose to the inhabitants of the Disc?

As is usual with Discworld novels, Moving Pictures has several plots running simultaneously.  The main one features Victor Tugelbend, a student wizard who does anything but wizardry, and Theda Withal, a country lass who has come to hit the big time.  They soon become the new stars of Holy Wood.  Also hoping to hit the big time, in this case as a producer, is the failed-but-ever-hopeful Ankh-Morpork small businessman Cut Me Own Throat Dibbler.  Throw in a talking dog and a librarian who is in fact an orangutan, and you have the basis for a lot of fun.

Moving Pictures is more than liberally sprinkled with references to Hollywood: Gone with Wind, Casablanca, Sam Goldwyn, Marlene Dietrich, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, to name a few.  All is done with great intelligence and sparkling wit, and the episode featuring the Librarian and the Tower of Art is absolutely side-splitting.

Not the deepest of the Discworld novels, nor its best, Moving Pictures is definitely good for more than a giggle.

Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett

Yea, the king will come bringing Law and Justice, and know nothing but the Truth, and Protect and Serve the People with his Sword. - Old Discworld Prophecy

Be careful what you wish for.

The eighth installment of the Discworld series is set in the ancient city of Ankh-Morpork.  It has been centuries since the city had a monarch, being ruled currently by a Patrician, Lord Vetinari, a tyrant in all but name.  A certain secret society is unhappy with this state of affairs and they hatch a plan to take control of the city by setting up a puppet king.  But they get much more than they bargained for.

Taking riffs from the film noir and noir literature genres, plod-police shows and combining it with Discworld magic, Pratchett provides us with a gumshoe/police mystery.  In doing so, and in the first of the Night Watch novels, he introduces the utterly memorable characters of Sam Vimes, Fred Colon, Nobby Nobbs, Carrot, Lady Sybil Ramkin and C.M.O.T Dibbler.

Thematically, Guards! Guards! is about human nature and the tendency of ordinary folk to allow evil to flourish through inaction and fear, rather than through intrinsic malice.  It also explores the phenomenon of humans abdicating their moral responsibility en masse to those in supposed positions of authority.

Of course, Pratchett's genius (apart from character creation) lies in his ability to take a serious theme and leaven it with sparkling humour - and there is a lot of humour in this novel - to make it more palatable, provoking thought and laughter at the same time.  A rare talent, indeed, and one to be all the more relished for both its rarity and its acuity.

Pyramids by Terry Pratchett

Cast your mind back to the late seventies and early eighties.  Remember when pyramids were all the rage?  Claims were made about their ability to keep razors sharp or to aid in personal physical rejuvenation.  Nonsense, perhaps, but there were people who truly believed in this stuff.  Maybe they still do.  Terry Pratchett used this phenomenon as the slender basis for the seventh novel in the Discworld series.

In this book, pyramids every bit as impressive as those of Egypt line the river of the desert kingdom of Djelibeybi.  Yes, they can put a sharp edge on anything, including rolling pins (or so it is written), but their main power is to take time from the future and flare it off harmlessly into the atmosphere in the present.  As a result, nothing has really changed in Djelibeybi for almost 7000 years, and there are people who want to keep it way.

Teppic, the son of king Pteppicyon XXVII, makes the extraordinary decision to acquire a trade in the world outside of the kingdom.  When Teppic returns from his apprenticeship seven years later he becomes the pebble that starts an avalanche of change.  What will become of Djelibeybi and its ancient culture? Whatever happens, it will probably have something to do with quantum.

Pyramids is an enjoyable book. While it lacks the memorable characters of the other Discworld novels, its structure is noteworthy.  There are multiple story lines running throughout the book.  These branch, intertwine, merge and branch again.  Pratchett frequently interrupts the main story with digressions to the numerous sub-plots, and here we meet more than a few minor players.  The reader has the opportunity to engage with these characters more thoroughly than they would in a strictly linear narrative; as a result, the story has a charming depth and diversity.

While it is not amongst the best of the Discworld novels, Pyramids is subtly comical and is sure to provide a satisfying reading experience.

Something Rotten by Jasper Fforde

Something Rotten is the fourth and final installment in the first series of Thursday Next novels. 

Readers of Fforde will be know this series takes place in an alternative reality that looks an awful lot like our own, except:  the year is 1985, there are vampires, werewolves and all manner of other supernatural beasties, and some people have extraordinary powers - such as the ability to travel through time or to enter into the fictional realities inside books.  In the previous book, The Well of Lost Plots, Thursday went into hiding inside a trashy novel called Caversham Heights.  

It is now over two years later:  Thursday has given birth to and started rearing a son, fathered by her now absent husband  Landen.  She decides it is time to come back to the real world and recover what she can of her old life.  If only it were that simple.  Old enemies resurface in new ways, and Armageddon may be just around the corner.  Can a croquet match really save the world from destruction?

Something Rotten is a much better book than its two predecessors.  The plot is well-constructed, the narrative is pacy throughout, with quite a few twists and turns to keep the reader interested and attentive.  Fforde adds extra life to the proceedings with wit and humor, and there is more than a few laughs to be had. 

I you haven't read anything by Jasper Fforde, I recommend The Eyre Affair, the first book in the series.  It can be read as a stand-alone novel; but once you have the taste, you may well want to consume more.  If The Eyre Affair is the tantalising entrée, then Something Rotten is the satisfying dessert.

Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett

Welcome to the kingdom of Lancre, a mountainous realm more vertical than horizontal, a naturally magical domain that is the home of witches and the birthplace of wizards.  We've been here before but only briefly, in Equal Rites, when we visited the village of Bad Ass and met Granny Weatherwax, its resident witch.

Things get fleshed-out in the Wyrd Sisters: the village is now part of a kingdom, and the kingdom has a name and a history.  Alas, it has no legitimate king, for King Verence has been murdered by his cousin Duke Felmet (at the instigation of  Felmet's foreign wife), who then usurps the throne.  Understandably, Verence (or more correctly, Verence's ghost - who has been unfleshed-out) is upset by this, but so is something else - something big and powerful.  There is going to be trouble unless high-order action is taken.  And that duty falls to Granny Weatherwax and her two fellow witches, Nanny Ogg and Magrat Garlick.

Wyrd Sisters is the sixth Discworld novel, and the second to feature Granny Weatherwax.  Pratchett borrows riffs from Shakespeare's Macbeth and Hamlet in constructing his tale of witches, ghosts, usurpation and plays.  He deftly turns many of these tropes on their heads or bends them at right-angles, with surprising and often hilarious effect. Thematically, the book explores the power of words to shape perceived reality, and the corrupting influence of power - especially power held without public purpose.

Pratchett's ability to create memorable literary characters rivals that of Dickens.  In Wyrd Sisters, he further develops the character of Granny - this time as the first among the witches of Lancre.  But he also introduces the ebullient Nanny Ogg, a witch no less capable than Granny, but in her own special, out-going way.  Magrat, an archetypical new age wiccan, provides a counterpoint to her more traditional colleagues.

The supporting cast is no less memorable.  There is the mad duke and his sociopath duchess; Vitoller, a rumbling thespian, and his band of strolling players, including Hwel the playwright; and the canny fool.  Keep an eye out for Hwel and his bouts of inspiration:  side-splittingly funny.

Comparing Pratchett with Pratchett, I would grade Wyrd Sisters with an A.  He has written better, but only just.  And an A for Terry Pratchett is an A+ for a lot of other writers.  Worth the time, and then some.

Sourcery by Terry Pratchett

This above all- to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

     - Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 3

In Equal Rites it was established that to be a wizard on the Discworld one had to be the eighth son of an eighth son.  Why then were wizards forbidden to father children?  Because the eighth son of a wizard is a sourcerer, a source of magic in an already magical world.  History shows this spells trouble; and when Ipslore the Red decides to become a father for the eighth time, history is just about to repeat with disastrous consequences.

Sourcery marks the return of the cowardly and inept wizard Rincewind.  As usual, he seems to be human lightning rod, attracting all sorts of magical misfortune.  This time it appears to be the end of wizardry and Unseen University.  Despite his best efforts to stay true to his nature (and this involves a lot of running away), Rincewind is just about to have greatness thrust upon him.

Sourcery is a watershed installment in the Discworld series.  It marks the end of Pratchett's initial conception of Unseen University. Prior to this book, the wizards had been organised into eight different orders, each with eight levels of prowess and prestige.  The characters state repeatedly that the events of the novel are going to end all that.  And end it they do, but the reader is going to have to wait until the tenth discworld novel, Moving Pictures, before they find out what changes have been made at the University.  

Let's just say the dissolving of the orders ends the emphasis on parody in the Discworld novels and replaces it with satire.  To my mind, this is a most welcome change, and from this point onwards the Discworld becomes a wonderful mirror in which our own world is reflected, powerfully, poignantly and hilariously.

As for Sourcery itself, the book investigates the problems of being true to oneself.  Rincewind's companions are, variously and improbably, a barbarian who wants to be a hairdresser, a clerk who wants to be a barbarian, and a sybaritic oriental despot who just wants to drink and be told stories.  The wizards of Unseen University, when handed unlimited magical power, revert to their true wizardly nature and engage in catastrophic behaviour.  As for Rincewind, circumstances force him to transcend his own nature at a very high price.

Sourcery is not among the best of Terry Pratchett's books.  It is a solid, well-crafted tale that serves its purpose - it is a scene-setter for subsequent books.  Still, it contains Pratchett's wonderful humour and word-play, and these nicely balance the serious events in the story.  Perhaps not as satisfying as its two immediate predecessors, Equal Rites and Mort, but well worth the time.

Galápagos by Kurt Vonnegut

Look out!  Kurt's on one of his downers again.  What is it this time? I hear you ask.  Well, it's quite bizarre.

Vonnegut asks: why there is so much evil in the world?  His answer: because human brains are too big; otherwise, the world is 'a very innocent planet'.  This is not an original thought.  Remember when Hamlet said:

        ...for there is nothing either good or bad,
        but thinking makes it so...
           - Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2.

What is original and bizarre is Vonnegut's solution to the problem of evil.  But what that solution is, I am not going to tell you. No spoilers here.

Galápagos was first published in 1985, and much of its action takes place in 1986. For one reason or another, a group of disparate people assemble in Ecuador to take 'the cruise of a lifetime' to the Galápagos Islands.  However, a world-wide financial crisis turns fiat currency into useless bits of coloured paper, and then things get nasty.

Vonnegut started his literary career by writing science fiction stories.  Later in his life, he took pains to distance himself from the tag of being a Sci-fi writer; yet Galápagos can be construed as a work of speculative fiction with fantasy elements.  The story is narrated by a ghost a million years in the future.  A personal hand-held device called Mandarax is spookily prescient of smartphones and search engines. There is fallout from the Hiroshima atom bomb, but not in the way you think, and it has enormous ramifications for the future of humankind; likewise, a metaphorical toss of the coin determines the future sanity of our race.

Galápagos is written in Vonnegut's seemingly effortless style.  The characters are well-drawn but oh-so-flawed, as we all are.  Each has opportunities for salvation, damnation or meek acquiescence to fate.  These elements are the strength of this novel.  One can but wonder at the overall outcome of the story.  We may well say: 'Kurt! Really?'

If you have read this book, or if you ever read it, then you may understand the applicability of another quote from Hamlet:

O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams. - Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2.

 Galápagos could well be Vonnegut's bad dream.

Mort by Terry Pratchett

Casting my mind back some thirty-odd years to a reading of Thomas Hardy's Far From the Madding Crowd, I seem to recall the protagonist, a shepherd, attending a hiring fair and, humiliatingly, nobody wanting his services.  All very sad. 

And so it is with Mort, a young man from Sheepridge on the Discworld.  No one at the local hiring fair is interested in employing him; then at the stroke of  midnight Mort receives a most interesting job offer.  The position: Death's apprentice. Can a mortal assume the role of Death and live to tell the tale?  Mort is just about to find out.

In the fourth novel of the Discworld series, Terry Pratchett presents us with a tightly plotted and nicely paced story.  As we follow Mort on his rounds, we get to see more of the Discworld and learn more about its people and customs.  We also learn more about Death (who had cameo appearances in the previous books) and what goes on behind the scenes in his realm.  And we find out the consequences of tampering with history.  All this intertwines with a story of love, hate, infatuation and survival.

Also evident in this book is Pratchett's development as a storyteller: the narrative is sharper, the dialogue more powerful, the reasoning more intricate and the creative vision clearer.  What Pratchett had begun in Equal Rites (I have reservations about the first two books in the series) is elevated a notch or two in Mort.  

On a sadder note, I can't help drawing a comparison between Pratchett's explanation in this book of why ordinary humans are unable to see Death and his much later description of how Alzheimer's Disease was affecting his cognitive capacity (he was sometimes unable to see things that were there).

And the happy news?  As good as Mort is, the best is yet to come - and lots of it.

Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett

To become a wizard on the Discworld one has to be the eighth son of an eighth son.  Gordo Smith is an eighth son.  His eighth child had just been born and has been bequeathed the staff of a dying (then dead) wizard. There's one little problem the wizard did not foresee: Gordo's eighth son, Esk, turns out to be a girl. 

Esk, now a little girl, and the staff are given over to the care of Granny Weatherwax, the village's resident witch and magic user. Esk starts to learn witches' magic from Granny; but there is dangerous wizards' magic on the loose, and Granny is at a loss to know how to contain it safely.  There is only one solution: Esk must go to the male-only preserve of Unseen University and become the first female wizard (with Granny tagging along as chaperone).

Equal Rites has equality of opportunity for females as its major theme. Granny and Esk come up against the Lore - there is no precedent for female wizards - and the tradition-bound attitudes of the University wizards.  Lots of historical inertia there.  Will talent prevail over prejudice in the end?  If so, how and at what cost?

Pratchett also deals with power and how humans interact with the world.  He does this through the exploration of the nature of magic use.  Witches tend to nudge the world with their magic to make it a better - or, at least, a less dangerous - place.  They borrow rather than own.  Wizards, on the other hand, use their magic to dominate and harness the world and its energies.  By the end of the book, however, a third and greater kind of magic is discovered.

Equal Rites is the first Discworld novel to feature Granny Weatherwax.  Back in 1987, when it was first published, we weren't to know what a deep and intriguing character Granny was to become, but Pratchett had certainly put in the solid foundations on which to build her future character. The book also expands our knowledge of Discworld by filling us in on some of the culture and geography.  We are introduced to Headology, the Discworld witches' brand of psychology.  Ankh-Morpork is there, albeit with a significantly less perilous complexion, and the river Ankh is yet to come into its full, noisome glory.

On a sadder note, I came across a passage that on hindsight and with knowledge of Terry Pratchett's final illness is quite poignant.  Something happens to Esk, and she finds that:

... something was wrong.  Her thoughts seemed to be chasing around beyond her control, and disappearing ... Memories dwindled away on the wind.  As fast as she could latch on to a thought it evaporated, leaving nothing behind.  She was losing chunks of herself, and she couldn't remember what she was losing.

All up, Equal Rites is a nifty little fantasy novel in itself.  It can be read without reference to the rest of the amazing Discworld series and not suffer too much harm.  Of course, it is that little bit better for being part of the series.  And the best is yet to come.  Oh, yes!

A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin

If Balzac had turned his hand to the fantasy genre, he almost certainly would have produced something like A Game of Thrones.  I do not mean that kindly.  But first, a quick look at what the book is about.

Seven kingdoms under the rule of one mad king.  A civil war.  The king is slain along with most of his family, two infant children escape to exile.  A new king elected.  Fifteen years later, not everyone is happy with the way things turned out.  Then the story begins. 

And what a big and long-winded story it is.  Whilst the action centers around eight characters, there is a huge number of supporting cast members.  Although story-lines develop around each of the main characters, this book is essentially about the dilemmas of Lord Eddard (Ned) Stark of Winterfell.  He has a terrible choice to make.  The rest is basically to familiarise the reader with the lands and politics of Westeros, and to set the scene for the sequels.

I know Martin's novels are very popular, as is the subsequent T.V. series.  I will say that at first I found myself engrossed in the story, but the book began to wear out its welcome at around the 300 page mark (that's about half way through).  Oh! for a persuasive editor.  There was so much that could have been cut out of this book without subtracting from the plot or narrative.  Way too much description - description in photographic detail (just like Balzac) - that neither advances the plot nor develops the characters.  Lots of repetition of the same ideas both in conversations and in internal dialogues.  On the other hand, most of Martin's prose is very good, and some of it is beautiful.  What a pity there is so much of it.

A Game of Thrones is the first installment in George R. R. Martin's series A Song of Ice and Fire.  Five installments have already been published, and there are two more on the way.  Thanks, but no thanks.  You can keep the sequels, I'll watch the T.V. series instead.

The Well of Lost Plots by Jasper Fforde

This diverting and thought-provoking book is the third installment in the Thursday Next series.  

We pick up from where we left off in the last novel, Lost in a Good Book.  Thursday has gone into hiding inside an awful romance novel, and she finds she is having some serious difficulties with her memory.  To add to her troubles, Thursday's closest colleagues are dying horrible deaths one by one, and it seems that someone is after her too.  And there appears to be a problem with the latest book operating system.

The Well of Lost Plots is a better book than its predecessor.  Although it suffers from the same slow start, its satirical edge is sharper and more clearly defined.  It is also a funnier book with many laugh aloud moments; and once the plot really gets going, it is a real page turner.

Like the previous books, The Well of Lost Plots is set in 1985 in an parallel world that is much like our own; however, there are supernatural beings, and beings with supernatural powers, and it is possible for people to enter into works of fiction and for fictional characters to enter into the real world.  

In this novel, Fforde expands and embellishes his conception of the reality operating inside the totality of the written word.  There is government, politics, espionage and dirty dealings; and there is love, heartbreak, loyalty and friendship.  It is a world that Thursday must adapt to - and quickly - if she is to survive.

If you read the first two books in the series with pleasure, this installment will not disappoint.

Lost in a Good Book by Jasper Fforde

Lost in a Good Book is the second installment in the Thursday Next series. In it we are reacquainted with many of the characters from The Eyre Affair.

Literary detective Thursday Next is living a contented life, and then something - or, rather, several things, several very odd things - go wrong, and Thursday is in a whole lot of trouble with just about everyone. To make matters worse, she gets a special sneak preview of the end of the world.

Like the previous novel, Lost in a Good Book is set in a world much like our own, except the year is 1985, there are supernatural bogies and beasties on the loose, some of the humans have superhuman powers, while some of other humans aren't as human as they seem.

Fforde has expanded and added detail to his fantasy world.  Thursday is now able to enter novels and poems by force of will, and she finds that inside these literary works there are worlds that have as much beauty, terror and politics as our own and her own.

While this book got off to a rather prolonged and slow start, once the action started going and the plot began to ripen, it became quite an enjoyable, funny and absorbing story.  It suffered in comparison to its predecessor as it did not have strong central bad guy, but this is only a minor flaw.  Overall, it is a worthy and entertaining book, and I am very much looking forward to reading the next in the series.

Frozen (2013)

This animated movie musical from Disney was lots of fun to watch.

Once upon a time in the realm of Arendelle there were two princesses.  Elsa, the elder  of the two, has a secret she needs to hide not only from her sister Anna but from the entire kingdom too.  Alas! when Elsa is crowned queen after the untimely death of her parents, her secret is exposed and she goes on the run.  Anna now sets out to find her sister and bring her home.  Can she do it?

In the course of the movie, we meet bad guys, henchmen, good guys and sidekicks. The good guys are particularly memorable, especially Olaf the snowman who steals every scene in which he appears - he is quite unforgettable.  There are dark and threatening moments in the film, providing a good contrast to the lighter and more endearing scenes; and the tension in the movie rises and falls in a pleasing rhythm.

The film features an interesting assortment of songs, one of which won the Oscar for best song.  I particularly liked the duet between the backwoodsman and his pet reindeer.

I think it is no coincidence that Frozen has become the biggest grossing animated movie of all time.  There is lots in it for children and inner children of all ages.  And remember to keep an eye out for the snowman.