Psalms for the End of the World by Cole Haddon

 Why?  Why do I feel compelled to finish books?  The world is full of books, my time on this earth is limited, and there is no reason on earth to spend any of it reading books that I'm not really enjoying.  (Other than my recent obsession with meeting my Goodreads/Storygraph annual reading goals. Four books ahead of schedule as of today!)

Yes, I struggled to finish this one.  Yes, I did finish it.  

Was it a bad book?  Not at all.  The cover quotes reviews saying things like "Mind-bendingly clever and utterly gripping" and "Ingenious" and I can see where those comments come from.  It's well-written too.  

What's my problem? A number of things. The book has to overcome the fact that it leans into a couple of tropes/conventions that are not generally my favourites:

• Multiple characters, multiple timelines, multiple storylines that have no clear connection
• Reader is lost amongst a random, confusing set of situations in a universe where much of what happens makes little sense.  Rules of the world need to be inferred over many pages (Reader only begins to understand the overall situation about 125 pages in.)

Basically, Psalms 'buries the lede'. Which is not all bad.  Not every book needs to be (or should be!) an adventure full of characters saying "As you know Bob, if the graffelgrommit fails we're all DOOOOOOMED!"  

Equally though, does any book need to be stuffed full of graphic descriptions of post-WWII torture murders of Nazis?  Alongside conquistador murders and slavery torments and beatings by racist cops? Especially when all of these gruesome storylines are actually pretty peripheral to the main plot? They're more in the line of illustrations of the fact that we are operating in a universe with  <spoiler>  many parallel and interconnecting simulated worlds </spoiler>.

Why did I finish?  Because the 125 pages point was well-calibrated. (Any later and sorry, I'm not intrigued, I'm frustrated and bored.)  Because the writing was vivid, and the situations were gripping and/or intriguing (especially the ones that didn't feature graphic violence).  Because I wanted to see how everything came together. (Hallelujah. It did! In books like this it doesn't always.) Because the book had an editor (my guess :-) who insisted on the rare chapters that included clear explanations.  Because I could skip the most graphic descriptions of horrible things.

But mostly, because I'm stubborn.  Otherwise I'd have stopped at about page 250 (of 538).  

The Emotional Brain: Lost and found in the science of emotion by Dean Burnett

I wouldn't rate this one more than 3 stars out of 5, if this were Goodreads or Storygraph, mostly because I didn't find it a super-engaging read.  This is ironic because the author structures the entire book around his personal story of trying to understand his own emotions after the death of his father during COVID -- and one of his conclusions is that humans are wired to be more engaged by personal and emotional stories than by 'pure facts'.

I do have a few take-aways though:

• There is no 'scientific' definition of what an emotion is. Emotions are complicated.
• Many brain structures are involved in the creation of emotions, and emotions influence most brain functions
• Cognition (rational thought) is dependent on emotion: how else are we to identify what is important to focus on (of the literally overwhelming number and variety of things we can sense, remember, or identify)?  Without emotion, on what basis would we make decisions? (after all, what is a 'good' or 'bad' outcome without emotion? what would those words even mean?)
• Emotions evolved from our most primitive evaluative functions, deep in our evolutionary past. How do we know?  Emotions are fundamentally linked to our sense of smell i.e./ the part of our brain that evaluates chemical inputs. (The author imagines a single-celled organism in the primordial ooze being attracted to or repelled by chemicals that are useful or dangerous.)
• Sharing emotions, understanding others' emotions, being influenced by others' emotions....these are the basis of human cooperation, human survival, and ultimately, human evolutionary success. 
• Which is why we are more likely to believe information conveyed by someone we have an emotional connection with....and that's why anti-vaxxers, conspiracy theorists. climate deniers....

So, informative and worth reading, even if I found a few of his conclusions trite (no, I don't think we are attracted to rational thought because we find it emotionally satisfying. I think we are attracted to rationality because it works.)

 

The York Factory Express: Fort Vancouver to Hudson Bay, 1826-1849 by Nancy Marguerite Anderson

You aren't as tough as a voyageur.  No, not even if you run marathons.  Not even if you run ultramarathons.

The York Factory Express is a non-fiction book based on the journals kept by Hudson's Bay Company 'gentleman' (company administrators). It documents their annual trip from the HBC post at modern-day Vancouver, Washington to the main HBC depot at York Factory Manitoba on the shores of Hudson Bay.  Remarkably, they made this 2,700 mile (4300 km) trip by paddle, sail, horseback, snowshoes, and foot without benefit of railroads, roads, or engines of any kind.  The main motive power was the voyageurs who paddled and rowed the boats upstream, except when the current was so strong that they needed to 'line' the boats through rapids with ropes or carry them across portages. To cross the Rockies they left the boats behind and snowshoed up and across Athabasca Pass (https://www.alltrails.com/trail/canada/alberta/athabasca-pass-from-jasper claims total elevation gain of 2500m), carrying packs of up to 70 pounds.  Days were long too: the journals document daily start times ranging from 2:30am to 4:30am, with days ending at 8 or 9pm -- except when they travelled all night to find better conditions for snowshoeing of course.

The trip typically took 3.5 months each way.  

Why?  Well, I also don't want to hear anyone complain about their work meetings again.  Sure, maybe that meeting could have been an email, but at least you didn't have to travel across the continent to attend.  It took sailing ships from England two years to reach Fort Vancouver. By travelling overland to to the annual HBC administrator meeting at Norway House (or the Red River colony), central administrators could get an annual accounting of the activities of Western fur traders, and the Western fur traders could make more timely requests for the right amounts and varieties of trade goods (which were  delivered by those annual ships from England).

The York Factory Express tells a remarkable story.

How about the book itself? The author quotes extensively from fur trade journals, and the book has a number of helpful maps to illustrate the path taken by the Express. However, I have to sympathize slightly with the reviewer on Goodreads who says "Like the voyageurs, my main feeling on finishing was relief that the journey was finally over."  The book would have been much improved if the author had added more analysis and context.  I found myself turning to the internet repeatedly to understand where locations mentioned in the book are in terms of modern landmarks, a task made more difficult by the fact that most of the rivers the Express travelled have since been extensively altered by Hydro developments.  I also struggled sometimes with fur trade terminology and history -- when there are explanations, they often appear well after the terms, events, or people in question are first mentioned.  

Who should read this book?  Anyone interested in the history of the land we all now share, or who wants to understand why Cumberland House (1774) is the earliest European settlement in the province of Saskatchewan.  But it would help if you already knew something about the history of Western Canada and the role of the Hudson's Bay Company in that history, as the author assumes a lot of knowledge on the part of her readers.

The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinsin

 Well, this is a change of pace. You know how I said I like 'cozy' books? The Traitor Baru Cormorant definitely doesn't qualify.

Baru Cormorant is a story of colonization, told from the point of view of one of the colonized people (like Mission Child by Maureen McHugh).  As in all stories sympathetic to colonized peoples (like Ancilliary Justice by Anne Leckie), the background of the book is quite grim.  Baru is removed from her family as a child and is educated in the colonizer's school to teach her both the values of the colonizers and the specific skills that will make her useful to Empire. As in The Poppy War by RF Kuang, our protagonist overcomes her disadvantaged background to excel in the imperial service exams.  From there Baru takes up a challenging post in service to the Falcresti empire. Her secret goal is to remain true to her family and her birth society.  She wants nothing more than to find a way to free Taranoki from imperial rule.

This is a morally complex story with a morally complex protagonist and a surprising but inevitable conclusion.  And while the book has its moments, overall it's very dark from page one through to the end.  As a writer I admire and hope to learn from Dickinsin's skilled use of foreshadowing, but I am not planning to read the two sequels.  At the moment I'm not up for reading more dark stories set in dark worlds.

The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells (Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3)

 Or, in other words, a three volume omnibus that includes All Systems Red, Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol, Exit Strategy, Fugitive Telemetry, and System Collapse.

Yes, of course I've read Murderbot before.  But the books are mostly novellas and were previously released only as hardcovers at ~$26.99 each (or $99 CAD for the first four volumes).  And while I admire and very much enjoyed Martha Wells fantastic adventure series -- ouch.  I originally read all of these in library e-book editions.

When I discovered that the Murdot Diaries had finally been released in a more affordable paperback omnibus edition, it was time for an immediate purchase and an immediate re-read.

What do I think, five years after I first discovered our snarky, anti-social, but very much anti-murdering-humans rogue SecUnit?  

Firstly, and most embarrassingly, that I was unwittingly highly influenced by these books as I composed my own latest novel.  It's not that I didn't know what Murderbot was like as I wrote.  It's more that I absorbed rather more Murderbot than I realized or intended, and it came out on the page.  Oops.

Not that being like Murderbot is a bad thing in and of itself.  The books crackle with energy and personality, and you can't help but sympathize with SecUnit's desire to stand in a corner and watch media in preference to watching the humans it's trying to protect do their very best to get killed. Murderbot's snarky but relatable personality is why the series was such a hit, and why I (very much hope) that Martha Wells is now financially secure.

Highly recommended, even though by Book 6 I was starting to feel that it was time for Murderbot to have a little peace and happiness instead of another adventure.

A Pale Light in the Black by K.B. Wagers

I picked this up book up and put it down about three times when I was at Powell's in Portland.  I'd managed to squeak in an extra 3/4 of an hour for myself in the bookstore while everyone else was occupied, and I spent most of that time in the SFF section torn between the books that seemed like great comps and the books that I most wanted to read -- with the added complication of the question "will I ever find this again elsewhere?"

In the end, Loki's Ring is one of the books that made it home with me (on the 'I may never see this again' principle), while the K.B. Wagers books were at the top of the 'I guess I can't buy ALL THE BOOKS' pile.  But I made a careful note of the name and titles and managed to find the first book of Wagers' NeoG series at the public library recently.

If you want a brief summary of A Pale Light, you could do worse than the pull quote on the front cover "If The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet had more kickboxing matches and death-defying space rescues, this would be the book. -- Max Gladstone, author of Empress of Forever".  To whit:

• Protagonist is the rebel daughter of a powerful family who is following her own path -- CHECK
• Narrative centres a 'found family' of loveable misfits -- CHECK
• Female, NB, and queer characters are central -- CHECK
• Spaceships and adventure -- CHECK

But of course A Pale Light in the Black is its own book.  Our loveable band of misfits are members of the interplanetary Coast Guard (the NeoGs, or Near-Earth Orbital Guards), making this book a kind of modern Military SF.  In sharp contrast to most space operas, the team's immediate goal is not saving humanity or fighting aliens or protecting Earth.  The crew of Zuma's Ghost really wants to do well in the Boarding Games, an inter-Service Olympics that features events like computer hacking, cage fighting, and simulated 'take over the occupied space station' competitions.  Of course that's not the only plot -- the main drama involves the prodigal daughter finding her confidence as she becomes a fully integrated member of her NeoG team, while simultaneously uncovering a nefarious plot that OF COURSE involves her family and its business interests.

What did I think of the book?  Unlike some of the SFF I've reviewed lately, this is not a debut novel.  Wagers published five books before this one,  and their experience shows.  Characters are all three-dimensional, dialog is seamless, description is well-chosen, and the action moves along.  You care about Jenks (the tough, orphaned Petty Officer who would much rather get in a bar fight than admit that she might have Feelings for someone), and for Max, our low-confidence high competence protagonist.  Overall the book is very competently done, entertaining, and I enjoyed it a lot.  

My only criticism is a tiny pet peeve -- in real life of course people have full, multi-part names, they have titles ('Commander'), they have nicknames (and sometimes more than one  ('Jenks', 'Dai')).  And of course in real life these names and titles and nicknames might bear no obvious relationship to one another. But in fiction...oy.  Introducing multiple people in the first few pages while referring to each person in multiple different ways?  Realistic? Sure.  Effective?  I dunno.  I'm a person who has trouble enough keeping single names of the real folk that I meet straight. But take this criticism for whatever you think it's worth -- I'm also not a huge fan of the style of high fantasy that throws you into an unfamiliar situation without explanation and expects you to be satisfied by finally figuring out what was happening on page 1 by reading page 452. 

Loki's Ring by Stina Leicht

 Another space opera!  More spaceships, ship AIs (and other artificial persons) as characters, an interstellar crisis, even a ring world.

This one took me a long time to read, and I wasn't sure why.  The writing was good, the characterizations were distinct and consistent, characters were sympathetic, there was lots of action and clear stakes.  So why did I keep putting it down and not getting back to it for days?  Why did I find Doppelganger more gripping?

I think the first reason is the most important, and I'll simply make it by gesturing at the world around me.  If you're reading this in years to come, remember what the first month or two of the Trump II administration was like.  It's hard to concentrate.

The second reason didn't strike me until after I finished the book.  When I thought about the story I'd just read, I realized that at its heart, Loki's Ring is women's fiction.  The central conflict is not between the Norton Alliance and the TRW.  The struggle that drives the book is not Gita's need to rescue her AI daughter.  The mystery is not why illicit miners were trying to harvest something from the surface of Loki's Ring, and the horror is not the dastardly virus liberated by their efforts.  No, the central conflict of the book is internal to Gita:  she has to come to terms with the fact that there was no way to prevent the tragedy that she is haunted by, and she needs to reconcile with her family (including her AI daughters) and her estranged former partner. The mystery is exactly what happened (before our story begins) and how it has affected each character.  The true struggle is for personal growth.  

In other words the space opera elements are merely trappings, in the same way that Calamity by Constance Fay is a romance, even though it features spaceships and scrappy space adventurers and an interstellar villain volcano lair. 

Then it all made sense.  Loki's Ring didn't grab me because while there's nothing in the least wrong with women's fiction, it's not the kind of story that I generally read, and is not the kind of story that generally grabs me.

I have to admit that I don't really understand how all of this works from a writerly perspective.  I mean,  a space opera (or a mystery) without romantic elements or personal dilemmas or character growth would probably be dull.  So why does a romance (or woman's fiction) leave me cold? What makes a story something that I find compelling?   The stakes can't be purely personal?  Hm....maybe that's it.  While the events in Loki's Ring include dramatic escapes from wrecked spaceships, alien attacks, and at least one big spaceship fight -- that's not what *matters* to the characters. What matters is dealing with their colleague's agoraphobia.  Reconciling with their estranged friend.  Letting down their family.  Bringing themselves to say that they're sorry.  Admitting that they were wrong.  You know, the actually important stuff that everyone has to deal with in life.

Hmmm...learning by reading continues.