Mark’s Musings

I’ve talked about The Final Empire before and it’s time to revisit it now. In that trilogy, Brandon Sanderson did a great job of world-building, and I’ve discovered that I really eat that sort of thing up. Clarke’s Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is an excellent example of this, as is Stephenson’s “Cryptonomicon“. I just get sucked in to a story a lot more quickly if there’s a consistent world propping it up, and I enjoy it all the more for that.

Sanderson’s trilogy has a complete and consistent magic system that he very cleverly revealed slowly over the course of its three books. Many people have said that his skill at characterization needs work. My characterometer must need some calibration, as I didn’t really find anything amiss with the people in his stories. Maybe the magic system he designed overwhelmed my ability to detect this issue. It certainly has affected the way I dream, as I’ve written before.

His skill is good enough that I have added him to my internal Trusted Author list. Three good books in a row will do that, and he certainly measures up in that respect. So it was much to my dismay to discover that he agreed to complete Robert Jordan’s “The Wheel of Time” series after Jordan’s untimely death left the final book unfinished. I’ve gone on record as being Not A Fan of that series and yet here I am, a professed Sanderson fan. True, Jordan has written some of the final part of the story — which he famously promised to finish with book twelve — but Sanderson’s writing would still comprise a large chunk of it. Did I want miss out on that?

My magic eight-ball still says: all signs point to “no”.

It was with great reluctance that I decided to read the rest of the books in the series. I finished the eleventh book on a flight from Denver to San Jose where I’m actually typing these words, even though you won’t see them for a few days. It took the better part of a year to get through them all. Sure, some of that time was spent waiting for inter-library loans — there’s no way I was going to buy any of these books — but I did my best to make time to read them. What I’m trying to say is that they’re huge. Huge in the sense of the number of pages, yes, but also huge in the sense of great huge lumbering beasts of books.

Was it worth it? My only response to that is below. The only thing that can salvage this is if Sanderson kicks some major, major ass in the final three boks. Yeah, three. Even though Jordan stated that he’d finish the story in one book, when Sanderson started writing it, he and his publishers reluctantly came to the conclusion that it would take three books. I knew that before I started reading the series again, so I didn’t have the soaring hope followed by the crushing horror of two more books than I thought I was going to have to read. I don’t know how the series’ fans took the news, and I’m not about to search the web to find out.

Books two through eleven all lead up to, but don’t quite reach, the Last Battle between Light and Dark. And either Jordan vastly underestimated the amount of work that he was going to have to put into it, or he just simply didn’t want to stop writing about his world, because the plot just drags on and on and on. Jordan is constantly throwing new twists into the story, and new adventures for his characters to have.

It certainly seems like he doesn’t quite want to reach the Last Battle. Character A decides to get married, and his wife is captured, and then he has to go after her. Character B has to find the person he’s going to marry and make clumsy attempts at wooing her. Character C has to spend vast swaths of book-time hiding from various nefarious bad-guy characters, to say nothing of intending to marry three women. Character D has to appear to die, and then we have to set up a prophecy for D’s rescue. No marriage sub-plot for D, alas.

And so on and, y’know, so on. How do you count the main plot to be advancing when there are separate sub-plots that start and stop all over the place? And sub-sub-plots branching off sub-plots? How do you keep track of the thousands of characters that Jordan introduces and are mostly interchangeable except for their location? I can’t express in words the level of my annoyance when Jordan would start a new chapter and name three or four new characters. A lot of the time, at least, they’re new. Sometimes he’d name what I thought were new characters, but ended up being some minor nobodies from a few books earlier that I had forgotten. Note to self: remember to forget them all again.

I also can’t express in words the levels of sheer frustration at the advancement pace of the main “Last Battle” plot. As the sequels continue, plot advancements are fewer and further between. In book eleven, virtually *nothing* has anything to do with the main story. Oh, sure, they keep talking about the Last Battle to be happening Real Soon Now, but name me one thing that any one of the characters does to take a step towards that Last Battle.

If Jordan believed that the books he was writing were each complete in an of themselves, and told a noticeable story complete with beginning, middle, and end, then he was mistaken beyond belief. As the books came out, the more “middly” they became. Each one was less of a story and more of a way of advancing time towards the mythical Last Battle. Book nine, Winter’s Heart, was the only book that really had any story to it, and that was a veneer on top of the aggravating machinations that the characters were attempting to pull off. As I said earlier, I decided to borrow the books from my library instead of buying them, and it was the best choice I could have made. These massive, story-less tomes would have taken up valuable shelf space. They aren’t very good, and I still feel pity for everyone who has read them. Yes, I even pity myself.

Curse you, Mr Sanderson, for making me have to read these. I know you like Jordan’s books and, if by some miracle you read this, you probably hate me now for trashing them. The thing is, your writing is so much better than Jordan’s that I had to find out what happened prior to you taking over. I look forward to reading the final trilogy. Hopefully you won’t get Jordan’s curse and start saying “one more book… one more book”.

Was it worth reading the rest of Jordan’s books just to read Sanderson’s conclusion? I can only answer the question once I’ve finished reading the final three, so stay tuned.

Last night we were watching the Nova episode “The Pluto Files“. It was all about the hullabaloo surrounding the demotion of Pluto to Dwarf Planet status. One sequence in the episode started when Dr Tyson brought out an eight-foot weather balloon to use as a scale model of the Sun. He then proceeded through each planet, starting with Mercury, using a scale representation to show the relative size of each planet. Jupiter ended up being a kick-ball, for example, and Neptune was a croquet ball.

After each planet was introduced, I heard Samantha making small noises. Grunts of appreciation, maybe? I took them to be the verbal expression of learning new facts about our universe. But after each planet was introduced, she was a bit more vocal about it. I kept quiet. Finally, Dr Tyson takes out a small ball-bearing from a roller skate and places it in the dish for Pluto.

At this point, Samantha can no longer contain herself. She interrupts the show and says “Daddy?” I pause the DVR. “Yes?” I ask. And then the source of her agitation is revealed. “Daddy, do they really make eight-foot balloons!?”

(OK, that’s really “Nook eReader” but I like it better the other way.)

Two weeks ago my wife bought me the Barnes & Noble “nook” e-book reader. I had looked at the Kindle and the nook, and I had a — completely subjective, I admit — preference for the color touch screen. The Kindle has a nice keyboard (and a little joystick too), but I was just attracted to the nook’s clean design.

I took it on a business trip to California to see how well it worked. My thought was it would be easier to carry the nook with me than the usual three paperbacks I take when I go on trips. I used to bring just two, but I ran out of reading material one time, and went hunting desperately through the airport bookshops during a layover trying to find something appealing to read.

The nook worked very well. I had no problems transferring pdfs (I used “calibre” before upgrading to Snow Leopard, but now calibre crashes on me), and I bought Singularity Sky to read based on recommendations I got prior to the trip.

I initially had problems reading the book. They weren’t due to any issues with the nook proper, but actually reading a book on a brand-new piece of hardware was very distracting. I kept wanting to play with the features — browsing available books, looking at what was free, flipping around on pdfs, using the built-in dictionary, and so on — instead of read. I think I restarted Singularity Sky three or four times before I finally actually was paying attention to the book itself.

Once I got past the newness factor, the nook made reading really easy. No more worrying about bookmarks, or losing my place, or forgetting a book (they’re all right there!). I did notice some rendering issues, though, especially with italic text, but I’m sure that can be fixed with a software upgrade. After playing with the fonts a bit, I found that using the “smallest” setting, with the built-in serif font, worked the best. Any larger, and I was turning pages too frequently, which in itself is a distraction.

My one complaint about the nook is the responsiveness of the touch screen. They must have skimped a bit on the CPU because it’s kind of sluggish when compared with, e.g., an iPhone. But it works; it’s serviceable. And the built-in 3G and WiFi work very well for browsing and downloading.

A while ago — too long ago now for me to remember when — I was given a copy of Robert Jordan’s The Eye of the World. My Aunt knew I liked to read fantasy and science fiction, and she thought this would be something I would enjoy. I put off reading it for a while. I’m not sure why. But eventually I did pick it up after I saw that a sequel for it had come out.

I thought it wasn’t bad. Not great, but it held some promise. The world-building was interesting even if the characters were kind of flat for me. The story itself was fine, albeit nothing special. I decided to get a copy of the sequel to see if Jordan had improved over time.

Funny story: he didn’t.

I didn’t care for the second book, The Great Hunt, very much. The only thing I found interesting was the exploration of the magic system, and the hints here and there of the mythology and history of the world. The characters were once again kind of flat, and the story was only so-so. I went on to read the third book anyway, just because I thought it would complete the split trilogy.

I should pause here and explain what I mean by that. I’m not sure there’s an official term for it, but what I call a split trilogy is one where a work of fiction is created, whether it be a book or a film, and it does well enough that the owner of the property decides to extend it to a trilogy. In other words, the first book is a complete story in and of itself, and then books two and three comprise a two-part sequel. This happened with films like “Star Wars”, and books like Thomas Covenant. I’m not using this term to disparage the phenomenon, just to describe it.

I thought, after all the set-up he put into book two, Jordan was going after a split trilogy. The third book, alas, just raised more questions than it answered, and I decided enough was enough. I dropped the series and moved on, content to forget about Rand, Merry, and Pippin.

Every so often, I’d see a new release in the bookshops. Book four came out, and I was glad to not buy it. Book five came out and I barely gave it a second glance. When book eight came out I was taken by surprise because I’d missed seeing six and seven. Eight books, I laughed to myself. Man, was I ever so glad I didn’t get suckered into reading this series.

When book nine came out, I laughed again, but not quite as hard. Schadenfreude can only go so far. Then book ten came out and I felt bad for having laughed. It finally dawned on me that people were reading this series — it was hitting the bestseller lists! OK, maybe it got better? Maybe Jordan was becoming a skilled storyteller? Was I missing out?

I scoured the internet for the reviews, and I saw they were mixed and leaning towards thumbs down. Some people loved them, to be sure, but my impression was that the stories were getting slower and slower as the series progressed.

Basically, it seemed like most people were gritting their teeth and getting through it because of the promise of an amazing climax. But was there any guarantee of it being satisfying? Did Jordan’s skill as a writer indicate that he would be able to pull off the monumental story resolution that the books promised? As my magic eight-ball says: all signs point to “no”. When book eleven came out, I hit full-on pity for the readers.

Jordan himself, during a Question and Answers session at a Dragon*Con almost five years ago, said that he would finish the series in book twelve. I didn’t see how that could be possible, given the shear number of plot threads going on. OK, maybe “possible” should read “satisfying”? Anyway, I vaguely followed the development of book twelve on and off over the years, just to see.

And then, sadly, Jordan passed away.

(To be continued)

One of the biggest annoyances I have with sites like Amazon is that they give you a single number to rate something like a DVD. And DVDs cannot be rated properly with a single number. If I tell you a particular DVD scored 4.5 stars, what does that mean to you? Does it refer to the film or TV show’s quality? Does it refer to the quality of extras that come on the DVD? Does it refer to the quality of the transfer process? Does it refer to the packaging? How does that one number allow me to sort through multiple releases of the same film to see which one is the best one to get? This is broken.

(also, my latte is too foamy)

Dreams are strange beasts. An amalgamation of sights, sounds, and feelings that your mind throws together and attempts to interpret, a dream can leave a lasting impression, or it can leave the merest hint of a memory that is soon gone forever.

As a child, I would sometimes have dreams that ended in falling from a great height. Whether it was from heading over a cliff, or being pushed out an airplane, or being thrown up into the air by an animal or car crash, the dreams tended to end just before I hit the ground. They were always frightening. I think “panic” is the right word to use to describe my state immediately upon waking, although back then I don’t think I really knew the proper term for it.

As I grew older, I found that, once in a while, I was aware I was dreaming. I’d get a moment or two to influence the course of events before either forgetting it was a dream and losing control, or just simply waking up. Occasionally this lucidity would coincide with falling (or being about to fall) and I’d somehow convince my dream to let me fly instead.

I grew older still, and I grew better at dream control along the way. More and more falling dreams would convert to flying, until I became able to fly without having to have the awareness that I was dreaming. The fall would convert by itself to flight, and life was good. I stopped waking up in panic mode and, instead, would sleep right through the dream with perhaps a pleasant memory of a voyage over treetops, or through a cityscape.

Recently, however, I have begun to experience the occasional fall again, accompanied by the sudden panicky burst into wakefulness, and I have Brandon Sanderson to thank for that. Sanderson is a science fiction / fantasy author who invented a universe in which people can consume metals in order to do magic. And I do mean consume: the metal must be inside the stomach in order to have an effect.

One of the metals (steel) gives the ability to push other metals away simply by thinking about it. A limited form of telekinesis, if you will. By “burning” the ingested steel, a person can fly if the metal being “pushed” in this fashion happens to be on the ground. Instead of the metal being pushed away, something akin to Newton’s third law kicks in, and the burner (known as a “misting” for reasons beyond the scope of this post) is flung upwards into the sky. Carefully controlled, a misting can fly through the air, pushing this way or that against metal on the ground, until his or her supply of steel is exhausted.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up one night from a fall, only to realise my silly brain had decided that I would not fly because I had run out of steel to burn. Not every flying dream ends this way, although each time one does I get a little more annoyed. I really must work out how to convince my dream-self to carry a small vial of steel shavings to consume at a moment’s notice.

It’s not often that an author can leave such an impression that his or her world follows me into my dreams, but Sanderson managed it. Well done, sir.

I wonder if the same cover artist was used for these two books.

The cover for Brandon Sanderson’s first Mistborn novel.

The cover for C.L. Anderson's debut novel.

Yikes. This kind of film is even less enjoyable to me than Westerns are. This is number 63 on AFI’s 2007 top 100 list, and I’m pretty sure it’ll be one that I never watch again.

Cabaret is not a bad film, but it’s about people I find hard to care about, and it gets kinda artsy in spots, which is deadly to me. Specifically, the opening and the closing sequences (with the MC played by Joel Grey) are trying to be Meaningful-with-a-capital-M. And there are the little scenes thrown in here and there that are Symbolic-with-a-capital-Sym.

It probably would have helped had I felt sympathetic towards Sally Bowles (Liza Minnelli), but I was mostly cringing when she was on screen. The one thing she had going for her was that she makes no pretence at being anything other than a fun-seeking American in the middle of pre-war Germany.

She meets Brian Roberts (Michael York) when he’s looking for a place to live, and she immediately takes him under her wing — the impetus being that she can finally speak English again. His character is actually likeable, and he puts up with an amazing amount of poor treatment by Sally.

Overshadowing everything is the rise of Nazism, and there are a couple of scenes to bring this out. But of course we’re supposed to use it as something to highlight (contrast with? underscore? there’s a word here I’m looking for but failing to find; I blame my gin and tonic) the relationship between Roberts and Bowles.

There’s a brief moment of happiness, actually, but it’s too brief. Maybe it’s really me just projecting happiness onto the couple. Insert debate here. But in the end, Bowles takes matters into her own hands. Anything else would be out of character. The happiness was illusory, as far as she was concerned, and the sooner Roberts confronts that, the better off he’ll be. Or at least something like that, anyway — did I mention I don’t care for these sorts of films?

And then it has an Ending. Yeah, with a capital E. Sigh.

Some Like it Hot is 22nd on the AFI top 100 list. It is yet another Billy Wilder film. So this guy was prolific and good. A dangerous combination. Something that caught my eye, though, was the composer, Adolph Deutsch. His name keeps popping up as well, being the composer on The Maltese Falcon and The Apartment as well.

In any event, the last time I saw this film was as a pre-teen. I remembered thinking it was funny, but now that I see it as an adult, there is a whole level of humor here that I had completely missed, from double-entendres to the arrow on the floor indicator on the elevator. And this is not just funny, but hilarious right down to the last line, “Well, nobody’s perfect.”

The key features that make this film great include the tightly-woven plot, the excellent chemistry between Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis, and the amazingly form-hugging outfits that Marilyn Monroe wears.

I should also note as an aside that this is the second film I’ve seen on this AFI list that includes a protagonist riding a bicycle. I’m not sure if there’s a list out there which catalogues all such films, but the fact that I just thought of it probably means such a list exists. Isn’t that rule 35 or something? If you think you came up with something original, you’re wrong?

Moving along. Joe E. Brown is playing nearly his last film role here as Osgood Fielding III — he’s in It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World and The Comedy of Terrors after this film, but that’s it, aside from some television appearances. So Some Like it Hot is not a bad film to wind down a career on, given his star status in the early 1930’s. He does such a wonderful job with his role as a rich old man just looking for love. There was always doubt in my mind whether he took “Daphne” at face value or knew all along she was a he. But the thing is that it doesn’t change the film at all either way.

There are plenty of clips from this film on YouTube, but I was hoping that there would be one specific one, from about three-quarters of the way through the film. Curtis’ Joe asks Lemmon’s Jerry, “Why would a man want to marry a man?” By the end, we know the film’s answer: “When he’s in love.”

The Searchers is all the way up at number 12 on the top-100 2007 AFI list. Alas, I am not a fan of westerns at all. I imagine this is a really great film to those who like a good Cowboys-n-Indians film, but I’m not among them. The fact that this was selected (by AFI) as the greatest western of all time only serves to reinforce that.

I mean, it was OK, but I just couldn’t get into it. It seemed loaded with clichés. You start off with the loner Ethan Edwards (John Wayne), then you meet the people he cares about. Once that’s done, the injuns attack and kidnap the wimminfolk. And then the loner goes after them with his sidekicks. The non-redshirt sidekick is none other than Jeffrey Hunter. Yes that Jeffrey Hunter! And he could not act in this film. Boy was that distracting. Wayne was fine as the Ethan, but Hunter, playing a part-English, part-Welsh, part-Native American Martin Pawley, was horrible. Maybe because he was sharing the screen with Wayne, but he just overacted everything.

The women are mostly there to serve as motivation for the men to do what they need to do, although this film does barely squeak by in Beschdel Test, just before a Comanche raid. One standout in this film is Vera Miles, who plays Laurie Jorgensen, and she not only has a fairly meaty role (for someone who isn’t a main character, I mean), but actually does a terrific job with it.

However, given the fact that westerns in general bore me, I found this film kind of tedious to get through. It took several nights of half-hour bursts to see the whole film. Here’s the thing, though: I have no idea why. If this were a sci-fi film, for example, I probably would have eaten it up, as the saying goes. Imagine the same exact plot, only with humans and aliens. After all, the role that the Native Americans are playing is The Other, and there’s no greater Other than extraterrestrials. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an SF film out there that recycles the The Searchers plot. There were certainly elements of the first Star Wars film that borrowed from this, especially when Wayne & Co come back to a burned-out homestead, but not the plot.

I think one major stumbling block for me, aside from the fact that it’s, y’know, a western, was that Martin didn’t get any older and/or wiser in their multi-year search for Debbie (played in the latter part of the film by a teenaged Natalie Wood), who is Ethan’s niece and Martin’s sister-in-law. So while Debbie grows up, Martin does not.

Maybe that’s one of the problems I had with this film: there is no character arc to Martin or Ethan. They are who they are and the plot comes from how their characters influence and change the world around them. Martin starts off as a hot-headed kid, and he ends up that way. Ethan starts off as a man who does his own thing in his own way, and he ends up the same. Sure, they both would have liked things to have ended up differently, but they don’t and that’s that. The only bit that could be construed as development is that Ethan at first would rather see his niece dead because she’s the wife of a “Comanch”, and at the end (SPOILERS!) he’s just happy to see her alive again, and he takes her home. But there’s no way to show that that wasn’t his plan all along. And also, hello, if Debbie had children wouldn’t she want to be with them, or bring them home with her? Maybe she didn’t have any. One wonders how Ethan would have reacted to being a grand-uncle to a half-Indian-half-White baby, given his views on miscegenation.