Crichton Versus Crichton

It's been over a month since I managed to write on this blog... you'd think I was a super-busy person! Well, I am, to an extent, but a lot of it is manufactured stuff that I require myself to do... working out five times a week, for example. It's good that I do that, but no one is actually making me do it other than myself.

Okay, so now that we know my excuse for not blogging is that I'm Getting Fit, where am I with my reading-the-books-in-my-house project? Well, it's going pretty well! I finished that ridiculous Alchemy and Academe book and recycled it, finished reading Joe Hill's Locke and Key: Welcome to Lovecraft (so great!), and finished reading my son's collection of Underland Chronicles books by Suzanne Collins (fun).

My most recent conquest has been yet another stripped book from my bookstore days, The Lost World by Michael Crichton. I finished it yesterday - the same day I decided to watch the famous "Love's Labor Lost" episode from the first season of ER, the now-defunct but still great television show... a show that was created by none other than Michael Crichton.

Crichton's fiction is always interesting to me, in that it's fun to read and fast-paced, but I always feel like I'm getting the same message: Beware Technology - It Could Destroy Us All! When I read Prey several years ago, I realized it was pretty much just Jurassic Park with nanotechnology instead of dinosaurs. The Lost World is pretty much just Jurassic Park with a few different characters. And I'm okay with that - because it was fun, fast-paced reading - but the underlying technophobia strikes me as a little much.

Consider this passage, where Ian Malcolm, chaos mathematician and survivor from the first book, opines about why he thinks "cyberspace means the end of our species."


"Because it means the end of innovation," Malcolm said. "This whole idea that the whole world is wired together is mass death. Every biologist knows that small groups in isolation evolve fastest. You put a thousand birds on an ocean island and they'll evolve very fast. You put ten thousand on a big continent, and their evolution slows down. Now, for our own species, evolution occurs mostly through our behavior. We innovate new behavior to adapt. And everybody on earth knows that innovation only occurs in small groups. Put three people on a committee and they may get something done. Ten people, and it gets harder. Thirty people, and nothing happens. Thirty million, it becomes impossible. That's the effect of mass media - it keeps anything from happening. Mass media swamps diversity. It makes every place the same. Bangkok of Tokyo or London there's a McDonald's on one corner, a Benetton on another, a Gap across the street. Regional differences vanish. All differences vanish. In a mass-media world, there's less of everything except the top ten books, records, movies, ideas. People worry about losing species diversity in the rain forest. But what about intellectual diversity - our most necessary resource? That's disappearing faster than trees. But we haven't figured that out, so now we're planning to put five billion people together in cyberspace. And it'll freeze the entire species. Everything will stop dead in its tracks. Everyone will think the same thing at the same time. Global uniformity."

While I actually (and weirdly) agree with some of that - it is annoying to imagine the Gap and Starbucks and McDonald's sitting in Tokyo and Moscow - and I also think it's really difficult to make millions of people change anything at all (see American politics in general), I think it's completely off the mark in a lot of ways. Put five billion people in cyberspace and it turns out that a lot of them will just continue to argue that their way is the right way forever and ever amen. This is true to the extent that there are entire news sources that deliberately slant their news one way or another. Even people who generally agree with each other that, say, that liberal viewpoints are "correct" will argue ad infinitum (see any ILX Politics thread at ilxor.com for further information, or if you feel like knocking your own head against a wall for a while).

The weird thing about all this is that, on the television series ER, medical technology was used constantly not as a threat but as a way to save lives. "Love's Labor Lost" shows heroic doctors spending a night trying to save a woman and her baby (admittedly this particular case showcased an extremely unlikely series of events and unfortunately scared a lot of pregnant women in early 1995 - but my point still stands). For a woman with pre-eclampsia or eclampsia (the first threatening diagnosis the character receives), it's critical to have access to intravenous medications and good fetal monitoring.

And yes, I realize Michael Crichton merely "created" ER, he didn't write it, and I acknowledge that there is a huge difference between a novel and a long-running television series. I just think it's odd to have the creator of both these worlds be so at odds with himself in his messages about technology.

Now I'm off to recycle The Lost World and leave it behind me, going on to another book from my shelves. I admit that I still like to read the paper ones and have them with me, but I don't think the new reading technologies (i.e. e-books, Kindles, iPads, etc.) are bad or destined to cause humanity to stop evolving and eventually die out. I think we have created a lot of problems that we need to solve, but I don't think cyberspace is one of them.

The Solace of Zombies

As much as I didn't care for 30 Days of Night, I absolutely loved the first two Walking Dead graphic novels (Days Gone By and Miles Behind Us - author is Robert Kirkman). This isn't too surprising, I suppose; even though the very concept of zombies terrifies me, there's something brilliantly fun about end of the world narratives and the stories of survivors. Since I took my solemn vow to not buy any more books until I read 100 of the ones I already had (and don't think I'm not keeping careful track), I'm waiting with baited breath to see if my beloved husband will get me one or two (or fifty) more of these graphic novels for Mother's Day. Yes, Mother's Day is the next plausible gift-giving occasion in our house, and I am asking for zombie stories.

And now I am really, really jonesing for the stories because I feel like I need the distraction of reading something, well... intensely distracting. Lately it feels like the whole world is falling apart. The earthquakes and tsunamis and everything else in Japan was depressing, but felt far away. Then yesterday I was browsing my Facebook friends' status updates and saw that a friend from college, Emily Rapp, had written a blog post. And I looked at it and found that her baby - her sweet, adorable, smiley (at least in photos!) baby named Ronan - has Tay Sachs disease. Which, for those not in the know, is genetic, progressive, incurable and fatal.

I have to step back a moment here and explain that Emily is one of those people who I have always admired for her brilliance and envied for her fantastic good looks. She's an amazing writer (her memoir, Poster Child, about growing up with a prosthetic leg is just great), too. We have never been close friends, but she was a reader at my wedding and she stayed with us a few years ago while she was on book tour. Mostly we went to the same college and participated in similar political activities (Feminists For Change, supporting the organization for gay students on campus, probably some other things but at this late date, who remembers?).

Basically, Ronan's fate doesn't have much to do with me. I will likely never meet him, although I can follow his blog and admire his Facebook photos. Emily lives on the other side of the country, so I'm no use to her, although I would love to be. But I'm still upset by this news, so much that my usual activities (obsessing about politics - I am so behind on the Libya situation at this point...) seem trivial. In fact, everything does.

I was reminded last night, a few hours after I discovered this horrifying news, that music can be a huge solace. I had to drive to a neighboring town to take my son's friend home, so I got to listen to the whole second act of the music from Rent. Say what you will about that show, hearing Without You seemed so perfect (even though I had forgotten that song entirely; mostly I just needed to hear a musical that I didn't think would make me sob, like Les Miserables always does). And I felt a little better after I got home.

Literature - even the type that is "only" zombie stories (yes, I know they're not Tolstoy or anything) - is also a source of solace for me. I love stories about surviving the end of the world anyway (my go-to novel when I'm sick is Stephen King's The Stand), and when it seems like everything that is happening on the planet is so dark, sometimes I guess it's good to see that, hey, things could be worse. I think there's some quote somewhere about how looking out into the dark from the dark, you can see a lot further... and maybe that's it, too.

Whatever, I hope I get to check out those zombie stories soon. Meanwhile, I'm working on the last book of Suzanne Collins' Underland Chronicles, Gregor and the Code of Claw. It's fine, but it's not really the distraction or the solace I'm currently seeking. On the upside, it will be one more book down on my quest to read books that are in my house.

Bad Stuff and Good Stuff

I have never thought of myself as a particularly tough critic of books. I like stories of all kinds; they just have to be believable and compelling. Maybe that's a high bar to set for every book (and having tried to actually write stories with those qualities, I guess I should say that it actually is...), but I don't think it's too much to ask.

This past week I've been struggling to read through another stripped book from my days at Barnes and Noble, Alchemy and Academe, edited by Anne McCaffrey. It's an anthology of fantasy short stories that fit in with the theme expressed in the title, and three stories in, I'm already avoiding it in favor of reading anything else at hand.

I should probably back up and explain that, not being a huge fantasy fan, I've never read anything by Anne McCaffrey. I have heard good things about her work, however, and I know she has some whole thing about dragons going on. I have no doubt that she has written some good stories in her time; what I question is her ability to choose (or possibly find) stories that fit in with her theme.

So far there hasn't been any sign of the things that actively turn me off in fantasy stories (namely fairies... man, as soon as a fairy shows up in a story, I am out of there). Instead the first three stories appear to be stories about academics or philosophers doing... well, whatever. In one the academics were in outer space (Sonya Dorman's "A Mess of Porridge"), being boring and obtuse, and also eating porridge. There's also one ("The Institute" by Carol Emshwiller), which is about an institute of higher learning for old women. Sort of interesting, but certainly not compelling. The third story I read, "Condillac's Statue" by R.A. Lafferty, was about philosophers making a statue come to life by adding senses to it... zzzzzzzzzz. Seriously, at least the first two had some feminist subtext.

I am starting to really dread reading the rest of this book, and I suppose it just proves that there is a reason some books don't sell; not all books are good. I will probably fight my way to the end of it, because even more than reading crap, I hate it when I am defeated by a book. I know that's not rational in a world where ever more interesting reading material is produced and we have a finite time allotted in our lives to enjoy it, but it's just my personality.

On the upside, I started reading the first The Walking Dead graphic novel (subtitled Days Gone By, author Robert Kirkman, art by Tony Moore and Cliff Rathburn), and it's a ton better than 30 Days of Night was. I'm sure I will keep reading this series for quite a while.

Also, the Walking Dead book is going to stay on my shelf for a long time, while I will take inordinate pleasure when I finally let myself recycle Alchemy and Academe.

Finishing Books, Still Somehow Moving in the Wrong Direction

I managed to finish two books this week, The Whipping Boy by Sid Fleischman and a graphic novel called 30 Days of Night, by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith. They were both short and, I thought, rather average. Also one is a library book, so sending it back doesn't reduce the number of books in my house, and the other was a birthday gift, so that one is actually adding a book.

I picked up The Whipping Boy because it had won a Newbery Medal and I liked the premise. A spoiled prince and the whipping boy who takes his spankings for him run away and get caught in the clutches of criminals. Sounds fun and adventurous! Well... it is, but the characters are all so one-dimensional I didn't really care much about them. I finished reading out of curiosity rather than worry for the prince and his companion. This is a fast read and I think a lot of grade schoolers probably will enjoy it, but considering the far more sophisticated and interesting books that have won Newbery Medals, I was really underwhelmed by this book. I won't be too traumatized when I return it to the library.

30 Days of Night has a fantastic concept and rather good artwork. I love the idea of vampires loose on a city so far North that there is no sun (and no hope of rescue) for a month. It's brilliant, but the characters are so poorly drawn by the writer that it's hard to care that an entire town is being decimated. Additionally, the only way the reader would know how much time is passing is by looking at the title. The few townspeople who survive the initial massacre (which takes who knows how long) find a hiding spot, but they only way you know they have been there a while is that they are running out of food. And considering they are hiding in an old industrial furnace, how much food could there have been in the first place? So the whole thing feels like maybe 2 or 3 Days of Night.

Additional problems include a confusing subplot about someone who appears to (I think?) be a vampire flying in to the city to record the vampire attack and send the information back to his mother (also a vampire?), and the ultimate solution for getting away from the vampires.

The concept is so great, the story needed a lot more work for clarity and detail, in my opinion.

Nevertheless, 30 Days of Night probably will stay in our book collection, at least for now. I have a hard time parting with birthday gifts, I guess.

Next up in my To Be Read pile is another stripped book from my days as a bookseller. It's an anthology of science fiction stories and I have no doubt that it is headed for the recycling bin as soon as I finish it.

Snowpocalypse 7 (Or So) Creates Blogging Opportunity

Yet another blizzard here in Minnesota this weekend, and for once it started on a Sunday instead of a Friday or Saturday. So now the kids are home today for a snow day, Alex is sick, and I'm still behind on my book blogging. This probably wouldn't be a surprise, but I do have a good excuse for the last week or so: I was subbing in the nurse's office at a local elementary school. And it was busy. So both my writing and my reading (not to mention my already sub-par housekeeping) have been neglected.

I wanted to write a few words about Robert C. O'Brien's Z For Zachariah, though. I had never heard of this book before Julia randomly brought it home from her school library. Julia is only 8, and her reading level is not as advanced as this book would require, but she must have read the back of it and gotten interested. She convinced her father to read some of it to her, and I'm fine with that as long as no nightmares ensue.

What surprised me most is that, while I had never heard of this book, it's the sort of book that I love. Interactions of people - one of whom is not at all stable - after an apocalyptic event? Right up my alley! At the beginning of the story, the 16 year old main character, Ann Burden, believes herself to be the last person left in the world. There's been a short but predictably brutal atomic war, killing off everyone else, but she's safe in the valley in which she lives; the way it is constructed keeps radiation from getting into it. There are plenty of supplies for her, and she's making do alone.

Then another person finds her and she has to decide how to interact with him. When she does, she soon discovers that his history is disturbing and he might be insane. So it's a survival story in more than one way.

It's kind of funny how much I loved this book; the only other book by Robert C. O'Brien I had previously heard of was Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, which every fourth grader in America apparently had to read in the 1980s. I don't remember particularly loving or hating that book and I was frankly surprised to find that O'Brien had written anything else. I guess working in a bookstore for two years and going to library school for a while some books still somehow elude you.

Anyway, this book isn't in our collection, but if we had room it is one that I would certainly add.

Things That I Am Bad At

It turns out that one of the things I am bad at is keeping up with writing a blog. What a shock!

That being said, I have been reading... some from our book collection, some from library books. I can't help myself. Another thing I am bad at is controlling my compulsion to get books from the library even though I have enough stuff here to read to last me many, many years.

On the upside, I haven't been buying any books. The problem is that there are three other people in my family and two of them get book orders every month. Even the seventh grader (Alex) still gets them. I am fighting an uphill battle here.

I did finish Crime for Christmas, and it is gone from the house. I recycled it because it was a strip copy, leftover from my days working at a bookstore. Strip copies really cannot be passed on to others. In fact, bookstores routinely let their workers take them home, but even that is sketchy behavior.

I've finished two other books from our collection in the past couple of weeks and started another one. Yes, I'm going to blog about all of them, but going in reverse order. Why? Because I'm the blogger, that's why.

First, I just started Stephen King's newest book, Full Dark, No Stars. I received this as a Christmas gift from my sister and, let's face it, I always wind up with the new Stephen King book in my collection. They are permanent residents, but they do get re-read, some of them frequently. The unabridged version of The Stand is actually the book I read for comfort (yes, I read a book about everyone in the world dying of the flu for comfort, that's how weird I am).

I just finished reading a cute book called Just Grace by Charise Mericle Harper, to Julia. She got it for Christmas and it's hers; it's going to have a permanent place at our house. There's not a lot to say about this particular novel. It's short and sweet, it has some funny parts, and it was a quick read. It's not the most memorable book of all time, but I liked the characters, especially "Just Grace."

I also just finished reading a book to myself; Z for Zachariah by Robert C. O'Brien. This particular book was from the library, but I think it deserves its own blog post... as does the book I read out loud to Julia before Just Grace. So hopefully I'll get there soon... just because I'm bad at keeping up with blogging doesn't mean I can't get better.

Odd Book Assortment

There are a lot of books in my house that hail from the era when I worked at Barnes and Noble. The one that prompted me yesterday to start blogging is called Crimes for Christmas, edited by Richard Dalby.

I have a set of several of these Christmas-themed mystery anthologies on my mystery shelf, and I really don't care much about them. Still, I can't let a book go without reading through it, so that is why I plucked it off the shelf a few weeks before Christmas. I thought at the time that it could be a fun seasonal read, but of course the actual holidays got in the way of my finding much reading time, so I only managed to start it a few days ago.

I like mysteries but I don't read them very often, which is a bit odd. Mystery books were what hooked me on reading; my Mom had a box of old-school Nancy Drew books in our attic (the kind where cars are called "roadsters"), and I read through them like a demon when I was in third and fourth grade. I also spend a lot of time pretending I was Nancy Drew, but that is neither here nor there.

Agatha Christie's work got a lot of my attention in fifth and sixth grade, although I vastly preferred Miss Marple to Hercules Poirot (probably because I couldn't adequately pronounce Poirot's name at the time and I was flummoxed by the title "M." I was desperately in need of French lessons).

Crimes for Christmas includes sixteen short crime stories, all with a Christmas link in them. It includes stories by familiar names like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Ellis Peters, and (of course) Agatha Christie. There are also authors I've never heard of in my life; Fergus Hume, Pamela Sewell, and Lennox Robinson.

Overall it is mildly entertaining, but not something I will need on my shelf forever. The most interesting thing about it may have been the ancient insurance card in it, complete with my Social Security number and my original (before I married and hyphenated) name. But we'll see.

The scary thing is that I have at least six more of these Christmas mystery anthologies on that shelf. I need to get to work on them.