Tangled Mind

The first rule every graduate student learned was that at the base of every paradox there existed the truth. That you should never fully believe your own lie, for then you lost power over the pentagram. That magick was an act of tricking the world but not yourself. You had to hold two opposing beliefs in your head at once. [p. 229]

The novel opens with Alice Law, a postgrad in Cambridge's Department of Analytic Magick, drawing a pentagram that will take her to Hell. Her stated mission is to rescue the soul of her advisor, Professor Jacob Grimes, from Hell. Alice blames herself for his death: she didn't check that pentagram correctly. And without Grimes' mentorship and letters of recommendation, she won't be able to fulfil her ambitions.

But just before she closes the pentagram, an unwanted companion shows up. ( Read more... )

In autonomous Greenland, Danish initially retained more official functions than in the autonomous Faroe Islands. But that has since changed as well: in 2009, Kalaallisut became the one and only official administrative language. With this move, Greenland achieved a unique position: the only country of the Americas (yes, Greenland is part of the Americas), from Canada all the way down to Chile, where the indigenous language doesn’t play second fiddle to that of its colonial master. [p. 56]

Subtitled 'Around Europe in Sixty Languages' in some editions, 'A Language-Spotter’s Guide to Europe' in others, this is an entertaining and readable discussion of linguistic diversity in Europe. ( Read more... )

...there was something delightful about being able to feel Ulysses’s emotions, even if it was also sort of terrifying. Ulysses had big, messy, complex feelings that reminded Sam of dahlias, so bright and intricate. [p. 153]

As soon as I'd finished Dionysus in Wisconsin I went on to this sequel, set a few months later. Ulysses has almost finished his dissertation (which is about Sam and 'the problem of demigods') and winter is over. All seems promising until Livia, Ulysses' ex, turns up with a tale of woe about a murdered husband.( Read more... )

...we dig up their filigree and cloisonné and their rusted-solid clocks, we conserve and steal their books, and we know deep in our hearts that there are some things -- a lot of things -- that human beings used to be able to do once upon a time but can do no longer: that as a species we've shrunk and diminished, and we'll never be smart like that ever again. [loc. 220]

I was a great fan of Parker's earlier work, but lost enthusiasm somewhere around Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City -- an enthusiasm that I have now regained, and look! one and two-thirds trilogies to catch up on! Not including the new trilogy that begins with Sister Svangerd and the Not Quite Dead ...

The eponymous Sister is a former prostitute turned deadly assassin: our narrator, Brother Desiderius, is her partner -- in a strictly professional sense, of course -- and a talented forger. Unlike Sister Svangerd, he happens to be an atheist. ( Read more... )

I sat in the corner and gazed through red throbbing eyes at the lurid pageant: drunks and punks and pimps and ponces; young farmers and old farmers; pool-hall hustlers and pick pockets; Vimto louts, card sharps and shove ha’penny sharps; sailors and lobster fisherman and hookers from the putting green; the one-armed man from the all-night sweet shop, dandies and dish-washers and drunken school teachers; fire-walkers and whelk-eaters, high priests and low priests; footpads and cut-throats; waifs, strays, vanilla thieves and peat stealers; the clerk from the library, the engineer from the Great Little Train of Wales … it rolled on without end. [p. 31]

Wales is independent, and has fought a colonial war in Patagonia: the veterans haunt Aberystwyth and its environs. The town is pretty much owned and run by the Druids, as corrupt and wicked a crew as any mob. Private detective Louie Knight is engaged by local chanteuse Myfanwy Montez to investigate the disappearance of a schoolboy -- the first of several to vanish without trace. Louie, with his teenaged sidekick 'Calamity' Jane, unravels a heinous plot involving an ark, an antique Lancaster bomber and a forensic knitting expert.

I'm not sure why this didn't work for me. ( Read more... )

This is the story of a Tulsa debutante who, as a result of a series of unlikely and often very bad life choices she made in the ‘90s, found herself in the midst of one of the most terrible crimes ever to take place in America. [opening line]

I don't think this really counts as a book: it's more of a podcast, complete with hooks and a 'special bonus episode'.

Jon Ronson explores the history of Carol Howe, adopted at birth by a wealthy family in Tulsa. She was a debutante, but a rebellious one, and became part of a white supremacist group (plus swastika tattoo, 'Dial-a-Racist' phone line etc). She was involved with a white supremacist Christian cult in Oklahoma with ties to Timothy McVeigh, the Oklahoma Bomber. Then, apparently, she decided to become an informant for the ATF (Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms) and kept a detailed diary of events. The ATF claim she was 'deactivated' because of mental instability. Howe claimed she warned the ATF about the cult's plans to bomb a major target, but was ignored.

Ronson didn't manage to track down Howe, but he did -- in the 'special bonus episode' -- discover what happened to her: dead in a house fire in January 2025, after years of paranoid behaviour. An interesting investigation, but I would have preferred a straightforward narrative to the 'tune in for our next instalment' ambience of a podcast.

"Does your family know what you are? Born with too much salt, fey-blooded, siren-bound..." [loc. 2616]

Kensa lives in the Cornish fishing village of Portscatho, with her mother, her stepfather and her half-sister Elowen. Her father was hanged for smuggling, and she crept up onto the gallows to steal a hagstone from his pocket: that and her red hair (and the stubborn temper to go with it) are all the legacy he left. One night, a sea monster washes up on the shore, and Kensa and Elowen go to see. ( Read more... )

Something, you might think, happened here, long, long ago; something, you might think, is on the cusp of happening again. But that is the nature of grammar—it is always tense, like an instrument, aching for release, longing to transform present into past into future, is into was into will. [p. 4]

A short novella from the co-author of This is How You Lose the Time War. The River Liss runs from Faerie, past the Refrain (an assemblage of standing stones) and through the Modal Lands, between two ancient trees known as the Professors, and between ordinary fields to the town of Thistleford. ( Read more... )

What is it in humans that makes us so eager to believe ill of one another? ... What makes us so hungry for it? Failed idealism, he suspected. We disappoint ourselves and then look around for other failures to convince ourselves: it's not just me. [Prologue]

Audiobook reread, after listening to The Sparrow. It's many years since I last reread: here are my brief notes from 2007 reread. I stand by my original opinion, that this is not nearly as good or as well-structured a novel as The Sparrow. There is gorgeous prose, interesting ideas and a crowd of new characters: but there is also uneven pacing, political manoeuvring, and outright war.  There are, possibly, too many viewpoint characters, and a lack of the precise focus of the first novel. And there are several developments which felt unnecessarily cruel. ('She died last year.')

Narrated by Anna Fields, who manages the many accents and character voices -- across three species and a dozen nationalities -- admirably, with the sole exception of Northern Irish priest Sean Fein. I was especially impressed by her range of masculine voices.

I still hope for more SF from Mary Doria Russell, and I wish more of her books were available as ebooks in the UK.

‘At the end of his description of the first contact, in a locked file, Father Yarbrough ... wrote of you, “I believe that he was inspired by the Holy Spirit. Today I may have looked upon the face of a saint.”’
‘Stop it. Leave me something.’ [p. 298]

Audiobook reread on a lazy Boxing Day -- perhaps inspired by the excellent Jesuit priest in Snake-Eater. I first read this novel in 1997, when it was a submission for the Arthur C Clarke Award (which it won): some thoughts from an informal review back then. I hadn't reread since 2007, and was surprised at how much I remembered -- mostly about the humans, rather than the Runa and the Jana'ata.

The audiobook is splendidly narrated by David Colacci, who manages a huge range of character voices. Listening to the novel gave me a better appreciation of its structure: the pacing, the braided timelines, the suspense. ( Read more... )