Embassytown

China Miéville

In Embassytown, Avice Benner Cho relates the events of her life, leading up to and including the radical transformation of Embassytown and its residents. Embassytown, the book's eponymous city where the majority of the plot takes place, is a pocket of human-breathable space on an environmentally hostile (to humans) planet, Arieka. The planet's native inhabitants, Ariekei, are incredible bio-engineers whose language requires two vocal streams to speak - and a single living mind behind it. In order to accommodate communication, the humans on the planet have created Ambassadors: cloned human twins, raised to serve as interpreters to the Ariekei and ostensible leaders of the little colony, linked through empathic implants and kept identical through careful daily physical syncing.

The first third of the book largely concerns itself with the past - Cho's childhood and her relationship with her linguist husband Scile, while the remainder recounts the events following the introduction of an outsider Ambassador, EzRa, who causes Arikei society to fall apart.

I really enjoyed Embassytown.  There are lots of strange new (at least to me) science fictional concepts to enjoy, and I love language, so the sections dealing with Scile and the language of the Ariekei (simply called "Language") were especially interesting.  The format was a little unusual; there was a lot of jumping back and forth during the first third of the book that made it difficult to follow at times, especially given the convention of specifying time spans in hours (such as kilohours and megahours). Ultimately, however, the order of prior events is less important than their facts and consequences.

One aspect of the book that I particularly liked was that it took a relatively tight view of events, a tighter view than the reader realizes at the time, and then provided a twist that expanded that view - twice. This shows a level of world-building beyond the simple aspects of the single story, but also the skill and care to not allow it to bog down the plot.

While there were a lot of new ideas to get a grasp on, I found it more comprehensible than Perdido Street Station, although I have the impression they are set in the same universe. I would recommend it for pretty much any science fiction reader, but particularly those with an interest in linguistics.

The Doctor's Wife, Doctor Who, S.6, Ep.4 (Review)

Neil Gaiman combines Doctor Who, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and Harlan Ellison's "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream" into a story filled with unrealized potential.

The Doctor, receiving a distress call, apparently from another Time Lord, rushes the TARDIS beyond the universe to a place almost, but not quite, entirely unlike a soap bubble on the edge of the universe. The TARDIS' matrix is captured by a "family" trio and stored in Helena Bonham Carter (played by Suranne Jones), which allows her (the TARDIS) to finally express to the Doctor how good it is to meet him. Unfortunately, the planetoid-junkyard they've landed on is actually a malevolent TARDIS-devouring space urchin called "The House." The House, upon learning that the Doctor and the TARDIS are the respective last of their kinds, hijacks the TARDIS for a joyride, with Amy and Rory inside.

After two of the trio, "Auntie" and "Uncle", die for no particular reason, the Doctor and Helena attempt to construct a minimally-functional TARDIS from the half-digested remains strewn about, and the House entertains itself (at Rory's suggestion) by torturing the two humans and apparently killing Rory twice (but it's okay, he picked up some extra 1-Up mushrooms after that nasty bit with the Romans so he's safe).

Now en route, the TARDIS and the Doctor telepathically guide Amy and Rory to an archived control room, where they land, and callously obliterate the ood that the House was controlling. Finally, the Doctor tricks the House into bringing them all to the main control room ("Don't throw me in the briar patch!"), Helena dies and the TARDIS' matrix regains control of the TARDIS. Everyone lives happily ever after, especially Amy and Rory, since they no longer have to sleep in bunk beds.

Throughout the entire episode, I just can't shake the feeling that Gaiman doesn't *get* it. His attempts at humor are lame ("humans are bigger on the inside!"), the Amy/Rory chase sequence in the TARDIS is boring, and, while some of the ideas are cool, they just aren't well executed.

Sadly, everyone else seemed to really enjoy this episode, so I'm sure we'll see more like it.

Eastern Standard Tribe

Cory Doctorow

When I finally found Eastern Standard Tribe (official site, with downloads) in the bookstore (Barnes & Noble; that'll teach me to go to Borders all the time), I was quite excited. I'd recently read Doctorow's I, Rowboat in "The Year's Best Science Fiction: 24th Annual Collection" (originally from OverClocked), and I was looking forward to more Doctorow goodness.

Unfortunately, Eastern Standard Tribe didn't speak to me. It's the story of Art, a user-interface designer who gets thrown in a mental asylum for extreme, violent paranoia, and his world of subterfuge and sabotage in the name of his "Tribe", the titular Eastern Standard Tribe.

I think my disappointment stems largely from my preconceptions about what the book would be like. I had, I think, envisioned a story less about subterfuge and more about a society organized around personal timezones, even if it were distributed around the globe, might function.

Overall, not a bad story (and some of the user-interface stuff is interesting), but not one that really interested me.

Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom

Cory Doctorow

Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom (official website, with downloads) is the second Cory Doctorow novel I've read, but the first that I really enjoyed (see my review of Eastern Standard Tribe). It's the first-person account of Jules, a member of the Bitchun Society.

(The Bitchun Society is a post-scarcity ad-hocracy made possible by free, unlimited energy; free, fast cloning; and free, ubiquitous neural-implant network connectivity (whew!) whose primary currency is Whuffie, or reputation.)

Jules, with the help of his girlfriend, Lil, attempts to help his friend Dan—formerly a missionary for the Bitchun Society to the technophobic remnants of the world—regain his reputation so Dan can go out in a blaze of glory, while defending Disney World's Liberty Square, including the famous Haunted Mansion, from an opposing ad-hoc that wants to turn its attractions into simulated rides. All is going well, until Jules is murdered in the Tiki Room, which ticks him off a little.

I think part of the reason I liked this book so much is that, thanks to Steve, I'm fairly familiar with the setting (or, at least, I'm familiar with Disneyland, which is close enough that I get the picture). But the other part is the cool tech: the cloning, the implanted computer and HUD and connectivity that would put today's Japan to shame.

But, ever since reading Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, I've been wrestling with the concept of personality and identity in a world where everything you are can be backed up and restored in a couple days' time. What does it mean to be Geoff? If I were to make a backup today, "die" tomorrow and be restored, what of that time in-between when I existed and acted but is now irrevocably lost to me? And how do I feel about this? If I were offered, today, the one-time-only opportunity to become a part of the Bitchun society; to have my personality and memories able to be permanently backed up and recorded; granted essential immortality; a clone of myself ready to step in and take my place should anything untoward happen to me; would I take the opportunity? I can honestly say I don't know. There is so much that's amazing about the idea; so much that it would offer, but potentially so much to lose. (Even setting aside questions about security of the system that runs my brain, the sufficiency of the backups created, the issue of impersonation or duplication and, of course, privacy.) And what of the route to get there?

I suppose, in the end, it would be a simple matter of survival: whether I die and am reborn as a clone of myself, or just die, this me will still be dead, but only with the Bitchun Society will some part of me continue on.

Bellwether

Connie Willis

Connie Willis jumped onto my radar when I first read Doomsday Book (which I highly recommend), but I hadn't picked up a second Willis novel until just recently. Although I don't think it's quite as good as Doomsday Book, it was still an interesting story.

Sandra Foster is a researcher that studies fads, trying to understand where they come from, how they spread, and why. Her studies are alternately helped and hampered by the company she works for - HiTek - and her coworkers.

This novel is short, clocking in at merely 247 pages in my edition, and an easy read. The story flows very well, and each chapter begins with a brief paragraph describing a historical fad from the middle ages to the present.

I enjoyed this book, but I don't really have much to say about it. It's not terribly controversial, and there isn't really any major conflict to speak of. It's interesting, though, to note which fads continue today (the book was published in 1996) and which have petered out.

Asimov's Science Fiction (August 2008)

I just finished reading the latest Asimov's (well, either I'm a time traveler or their web site is in need of update, because the latest issue on the site is June 2008... ;-) ). I can't really say I was overly impressed with the stories in this issue. They were mostly alright, but nothing stands out to me as has happened with other issues. Sadly, I found the non-fiction to be more interesting. Oh well, on to the reviews (keeping them short & sweet... also, I'm not reviewing ones I didn't read or the poetry):

Reflections: Some Thoughts on the Short Story (essay). Robert Silverberg. Silverberg discusses Edgar Allen Poe's advice that "a short story is a piece of prose fiction in which just one significant thing happens" and H.G. Wells' addendum: "a science-fiction short story is a piece of prose fiction in which just one extraordinary thing happens". Interesting advice with examples and exceptions. Worth the read.

Thought Experiments: The Great Awakening (essay). Rudy Rucker. Rucker lays out possibilities on the future of computing and humanity post-singularity. Some interesting ideas and worthwhile hooks for fiction, though gets a little far-fetched towards the end.

Lagos (short story). Matthew Johnson. Safrat, a poor Nigerian working as a remote intelligence for first-world machinery, discovers that she and those she works with are being used to... Well, you'll have to read it. Interesting ideas, but not terribly compelling for me.

Old Man Waiting (short story). Robert Reed. A trust-funder (or someone with an unending supply of cash, anyway) stalks an old man with Alzheimer's for his amusement. I didn't really care for this story; nothing much happens, the characters aren't interesting or compelling, and I agree with the protagonist's friends: leave the old man alone!

Lucy (short story). J. Chris Rock. The tale of a probe and those who love her. No, wait, that's WALL*E. Elgin and Brad, two scientists, have subcontracted with NASA to send a probe to Titan. Meanwhile, they ponder their lives, their neighbors and their future. Again, not a terribly compelling story, though I do feel for the probe in the end.

Divining Light (novelette). Ted Kosmatka. A suicidal physicist explores the nature of reality and humanity. I like the subject matter and the story was ok, but I think Kosmatka doesn't really understand the double-slit experiment and its results.

What You Are About To See (short story). Jack Skillingstead. An NSA (sorta) spook takes on an alien that can choose its reality - with his help. Nothing to say. Wasn't particularly impressed, wasn't terribly disappointed.

Wilmer or Wesley (short story). Carol Emshwiller. A creature of nearly-human intelligence longs for freedom (more eloquently than most humans could). I liked this story, empathized with Wilmer or Wesley and was saddened at the injustice of his captivity.

Radio Station St. Jack (novelette). Neal Barrett, Jr.. A local DJ/Priest defends his post-war town from marauders (in dresses). I'm a fan of post-apocalypse fiction, and this is close enough to fit the bill for me.

Starship Troopers

Robert A. Heinlein

I'm not quite sure how I feel about Starship Troopers. On the one hand, I really enjoyed the book (as, in fact, I have everything else I've read by Heinlein), even though it could certainly be viewed as Heinlein's novel-length discourse on militarism and society. On the other hand, I strongly disagree with most, if not all, of the arguments/conclusions it puts forth, for example, that militarism is necessary for survival, that rule by former soldiers (or at least those that have served in a military-like organization) would lead to a perfect society, that crime is based on an excess of liberty for juveniles (rather than 1. a lack of responsibility and 2. over-zealous know-it-alls who seek power for power's sake and criminalize more and more to satisfy their ever-growing powerlust. You may think of more examples...), and, of course, that liberty is not fundamental.

The story follows (using flashbacks) cap(sule) trooper Juan Rico ("Johnny") though his decision to join the Federal Service against his father's wishes, Mobile Infantry (MI) boot camp, several missions, and officer training. The emphasis throughout is on duty to the "group", whether that group is the squad, the Service, the Nation or the Species, and the noblesse of sacrifice in such service. (This is the justification for only allowing those who have Served [not even those who are Serving] to vote and hold office: only they can fully understand the need for sacrifice and be willing to put the collective needs of those they govern above the individual sacrifices - again of those they govern, though at least they are counted amongst the governed as near as I can tell - that must be made to fulfill those needs.)

Intermingled throughout is death, considered a necessary and routine part of life for the MI and utterly required for a free society. But there is only one instance of death that stands out to me, and only one case where the punishment would normally warrant death but mercy was shown. First, the death, which was pretty gratuitous: Heinlein seemingly has to portray a hanging for some reason, and so he creates a character - one we've never even heard of before - and has him "rape the dog" (except, of course, that he's given maybe 5 pages in the whole book so he's not really a villain) by raping & killing a 4-year-old. Not sure how exactly this would illustrate Heinlein's point, since I would probably kill the bastard.

Second, during boot camp, a recruit strikes a commanding officer (well, and has an attack of stupid and admits it). Normally, this would be a hanging offense, but the commander of the camp convenes a field court-marshal, so the recruit only gets 15 lashes and a bad-conduct discharge. Very merciful indeed. This was, really, the one area of the book that I was truly uneasy, all though the leadup to the court-marshal (whereupon he is only sentenced to the aforementioned lashes). I think it is meant to enforce the notion that, arbitrary though they might be, the rules are the rules and you'd better subvert yourself to them for the betterment of the squad/service/nation/race.

A few closing remarks in regards to the movie of the same title: night and day. Heinlein's Starship Troopers is a philosophical discourse on society. The movie is, well, a "bug hunt", as it was originally titled, baring scant resemblance to the book apart from names and the bugs.

WALL*E (2008)

Pixar Animation Studios, Walt Disney Pictures
Directed by: Andrew Stanton

The Earth, from space. (Surrounded by a thick layer of satellites.)

Music plays:
Out there
There's a world outside of Yonkers
Way out there beyond this hick town, Barnaby
There's a slick town, Barnaby

Long zoom in. The Earth, circa 2800. The oceans are dry, and no vegetation can be seen.

The zoom continues. Now we can make out towering buildings, teetering slightly.

Zoom in further. The music fades in and out as a tiny speck moves across the screen.

More zoom. They're not buildings, but enormous towers of trash. And the tiny speck is a robot--the last robot on Earth.

For this opening scene alone I would buy the movie when it comes out on DVD.

The robot is, of course, the movie's titular character WALL*E (Waste Allocation Load Lifter Earth-Class), the last survivor of many thousands (millions?) of robots designed and built by the Buy'N Large Company (BNL) to clean up the Earth after it had been spoiled by humanity.

WALL*E spends its days compacting trash and collecting the few rare treasures it finds amongst the waste, until a spaceship visits Earth and leaves behind a probe called EVE, which is there to discover whether the planet has become inhabitable again. (And is, of course, the eventual romantic interest for the solitary WALL*E.)

I loved this movie. I knew I would enjoy it from the moment I heard it was from Pixar - how's that for a reputation? - but the film exceeded my expectations completely. From the opening shot described above, to the dance in space, to the cinematography, to the social and political commentary, it's a rare piece of true science fiction in film that's approachable and entertaining. (I read a review that compared WALL*E to Kubrik's 2001: A Space Odyssey, and let me say, while the comparison may be apt in terms of cinematography, WALL*E is a film I will watch again.)

The main themes of the movie are environmentalism, consumerism, conformity/self-identity and, of course, love. Love is explored through EVE and WALL*E - WALL*E's personality has developed through ages of operation, and EVE's slowly develops through its interaction with WALL*E (though there are some hints at it from its first appearance, and also in the other robots throughout the movie). I find it somewhat unfortunate that EVE and WALL*E are gendered (EVE is the aloof exotic, barely even aware of WALL*E, who is the goofy lonester that eventually wins her heart), even though it is fairly minimal overall. I understand, though, that it is done to help the movie be more approachable to a mainstream audience.

Consumerism and conformity are wrapped up together in the surviving humans and their "benevolent" ruler, the Buy'N Large Corporation. By the time the Earth is evacuated, 700 years prior to the movie's setting, BNL has taken control of the entire planet - no service provided is not touched (or offered outright) by BNL. As the refuse problem spirals out of control, BNL constructs vast space ships to carry Earth's population away; ostensibly on a 5-year cruise while the robots clean the planet. It reminds me greatly of the fiction of Frederik Pohl, particularly The Merchants' War.

Modern humanity, of a much expanded sort, continues to live in these space ships; or at least on one, the Axiom, where all needs are tended to by an army of robots as people are rushed about upon hover chairs, drinking the latest Cupcake-in-a-cup and chatting with their neighbors via the chair's screens. Unfortunately, two of these supposedly mindless creatures are pulled out of their chairs and begin to discover the world around them. The concept would be much more terrifying if they didn't, much more impactful, although it does allow the filmmaker to point out the wonders - simple and grand - that everyone else is missing, so I suppose it's not all bad.

Environmentalism is the most obvious theme, of course. The Earth has been ravaged beyond habitation. No plants grow in this wasteland. And yet, this disregard is continued on the Axiom, where garbage is fed into the bowels of the ship, to be compacted by enormous WALL*As before being jettisoned into space (can you tell the ships were designed by BNL?).

This leads me to my biggest complaint about the movie: believability. There were moments when I was cocking my head to one side and saying, "Does not compute!" The physics is not terrible, and most of it could probably be easily explained away, but some of the physics problems were: were does the gravity on the ship come from? Why does everyone fall to the side when the ship turns, exactly like on a sea-faring ship? Where do they get the energy or raw materials for everything consumed by the humans? How can humans - big, fat humans - that have spent their entire lives in their hover chairs stand up and walk at the end?

But the most important believability failure is something I've only just now realized: we are left with the presumption at the end that everything will be all right now: the humans have learned their lesson and will now become the proper stewards they should've been all along. But how? These humans have spent their entire lives not having to think about stewardship and conservation, not to mention several generations before them as well. They hadn't changed when WALL*E arrived, as evidenced by the tons of waste jettisoned each minute. While I will admit the events of the movie are certainly a life-changing experience, I can't believe they could change so drastically so quickly.

However, despite all of these nit-picks, I still highly recommend WALL*E for everyone. You won't be disappointed.

(PS I almost want to call this WALL*E: An Ambiguous Dystopia, because the contrast between Earth and Axiom remind me of Ursula K. LeGuin's The Dispossesed: An Ambiguous Utopia. But that's probably discourse for another time.)

EDIT:
Please read UniversalCitizen's comment as well; he addresses many other troubling points with the movie.

Sandkings

George R. R. Martin

Sandkings is a science fiction novella (or novelette if you're wikipedia) in which the protagonist, Simon Kress, obtains a quartet of "sandkings", insect-like creatures controlled by a "maw", which is the psychic 'queen' that births the "mobiles". The sandkings are so called because they build elaborate sand castles bearing the image of their owner—and because they fight intricate battles with one another. (Steve and I think this would make an awesome strategy game. They remind us of pentapedes in some ways.) Into their castles, they build the face of their owner, as though in worship.

Simon is, to put it mildly, a jerk. Eager for his sandkings to battle, Simon starves them, creating resource battles, and even inviting his friends over to watch and wager on the outcome. But things quickly get out of control, as you might expect.

I really enjoyed the story. The pacing and length were good, and the imagery was quite vivid (though it may have helped that Steve read it aloud to me). At times I was sympathetic toward the Sandkings, and at others I was terrified of them. The descriptions of their castles made me wish for a set of my own sandkings... nearly.

Sandkings has also been made into an Outer Limits episode ("The Sandkings"), although the episode is only loosely based on the novella. In it, Simon Kress is a government researcher investigating creatures found in Martian sand samples instead of a playboy. He's still a jerk, though he's less of one. When his project is canceled due to security breaches, he steals some sand in order to continue the project at home. This, predictably, has disastrous results, with the predictable "oh noes!" shocking twist at the end that is The Outer Limits' trademark.

I didn't enjoy the episode as much as the novella. It was too long and slow, and I dislike when a story is made more 'mainstream', although I understand why it is done for television (cost and appeal to casual science fiction fans, as opposed to hardcore fans). But, I did enjoy the opportunity to see (a realization of) the sandkings and their castles, even if it wasn't exactly how I imagined it.

So, I would highly recommend the novella, if you can find a copy. If you think the Outer Limits episode sounds interesting, you might give it a try, but otherwise, I'd pass.

Cloverfield (2008)

Bad Robot, Paramount Pictures
Directed By: Matt Reeves

(This review may contain spoilers!)

I wasn't interested in this movie when I first saw the trailer for it (and I had been blissfully unaware of the viral marketing campaign that was apparently used to promote it); I'm not a big fan of monster/disaster movies, and the first-person-limited camcorder-style reminded me of the Blair Witch Project, which I found terrible and boring. So, I wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing it last night with Steve and most of the DLP brothers.

However, my (admittedly low) expectations were exceeded. Cloverfield makes much better use of the camcorder POV than Blair Witch. I didn't even experience any motion sickness (which is quite a feat for me), although some of the others I was with did.

The premise of the movie is that it's the recovered footage from a personal video camera found in New York's Central park following a monster attack. It begins with some footage from the "Best Day Ever", a day on the town by Rob (one of the protagonists) and his best friend/lover, Beth. However, the tape (ok, it's actually an SD card, but for the purposes of this review I'm calling it a tape) is then reused, and partially overwritten, to record the going away party for Rob, who's leaving for Japan. Because of this, the movie is interspersed with short scenes from this earlier day, which add a poignancy to the unfolding events of the monster attack.

This on-the-ground perspective gave a fresh twist to the "monster movie" theme for me (though I've read elsewhere that it's been done fairly frequently). The usual plot for a monster movie takes place from the perspective of an omniscient narrator, and although we have a narrator for the movie (Hud, who's operating the camera), he's annoying, unintelligent, and as clueless as we are. All these people are trying to do is to save themselves and those they care about, futile though that may be, and we're kept in suspense because we're thinking about what we would do in the same situation (and how we might not fare as well).

My favorite part of the movie is at the end, when Rob is addressing the camera to let anyone who might find it know who he is. It's somewhat subtle, but Rob mentions that it's 6:42am, which is exactly the time when he began recording the Best Day Ever, nearly a month before.

So, I enjoyed this movie. I was never frightened, but it was certainly tense. That being said, there are a few nitpicks I have to make.

1) There's no reason to see this in the movie theater. None at all. Unless, of course, you want to sit in the front and get motion sick. The special effects are relatively limited, and nothing that couldn't be enjoyed on a television.

2) The party scenes are WAY too long. The film is only a scant 84 minutes, and the party takes up 10-20 of those minutes without providing...

3) ...character development. There isn't any, to speak of. I couldn't care less when Marlena, Jason and Hud die. I was more excited to see the little space parasites (or whatever they are) than anything else.

4) Inaccuracies and unlikely behavior. Others have mentioned this, but apparently Liberty Island would NOT be visible from the Brooklyn Bridge. Beth's building stands at an unlikely angle. Everyone I went with found it hard to believe that Rob would continually risk himself to rescue her, even though it was likely she was already dead and he had already lost his brother, and that the others would be willing to tag along. (As Steve put it, "Honey, I love you, but if something like that ever happens to you, you're on your own!") Also, Hud sure held on to the camera for a long time (as long as he could, in fact); we'd have dropped it much sooner.

But these don't really take away from the film overall (with the exception of the party), so I still recommend seeing it - when it comes out on DVD.

I, Robot (2004)

Canlaws Productions, 20th Century Fox
Directed By: Alex Proyas

I had avoided seeing I, Robot when it first came out for various reasons. I had heard it was a large departure from the book (which is a collection of short stories by Isaac Asimov that explore the consequences of Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics), and that it was full of crass commercialism. Additionally, although I enjoyed Will Smith in Men In Black, my opinion of him as an actor was not high at the time.

So, it was interesting to watch I, Robot for the first time on Friday, and not because I had particularly wanted to, but because Steve had to for the SciFi class he's taking. Some of the faults that had kept me away from it were true, such as the obvious and annoying product placement and a not-terribly-good performance by Will Smith, but others weren't. For example, although the plot didn't follow any story contained in the book, there are similarities to another Asimov short story - Robot Dreams, although the similarity is brief (and Susan Calvin is decidedly more badass in the short story than in the movie). The movie also explores the potential consequences of the Three Laws, keeping it in line with Asimov's stories.

I really enjoyed the special effects, though, especially the look of the robots (I prefer the NS-4-style robots to the NS-5s). There was some very nice cinematography, and everything had a nice, not-too-distant future look and feel to it.

Overall, I probably wouldn't watch this movie again on my own, but I wouldn't object to seeing it again.

Exposing the Game

Just wanted to point you all to Steve's new game review blog, Exposing the Game -- One Card at a Time. He already has two reviews up: Carcasonne and Last Night on Earth: The Zombie Game.

Beowulf (2007)

ImageMovers, Shangri-La Entertainment
Directed by: Robert Zemeckis

Beowulf - the movie - is a film adaptation of Beowulf - the epic Anglo-Saxon poem. It tells of Beowulf, of how he slew the monster Grendel, Grendel's mother, and a fierce dragon. (If you think those are spoilers, remember: the poem is more than 1000 years old!)

Although the movie follows the main plot of the poem, it does diverge in a number of ways intended, I believe, to give a more coherent plot, and to create the distinction between 'good' and 'bad', as opposed to 'man' vs 'nature'. For example, Grendel is merely a monster - nature - in the poem, but it is part the sin of a man in the story (the issue is a little more complex than that, but I'll leave it be).

However, the plot changes notwithstanding, the film is action-packed and enthralling. The music is well-suited (I'm considering buying the soundtrack, not something I do often) and engaging. Most impressive, however, is the fact that the entire movie is computer-generated. There are times when it's obvious that it is, but there are many times when it's very difficult to tell, and the camera motion that is enabled by the CG more than makes up for the deficiencies.

One of the nice touches was that Grendel speaks in Anglo-Saxon, which is a nice touch. The (partial) recitation of the Song of Beowulf is also in Anglo-Saxon.

There is a bit of nudity, but it is mostly covered (sometimes cleverly, sometimes not so cleverly) to garner a PG-13 rating. But what's surprising is that all the violence didn't push it into R; it's very graphic, and fairly realistic (though not completely, which is probably what saved it).

I certainly recommend Beowulf on the big screen, and it's probably amazing in Imax 3D.

Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End (2007)

Jerry Bruckheimer Films, Walt Disney Pictures, Second Mate Productions
Directed by: Gore Verbinski

I wanted to write an in-depth review for Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World's End, but, firstly, my writing skill doesn't seem to be improving, and it's been a couple weeks since I've seen it.

So, briefly: I really enjoyed this movie. I liked the cinematography especially, particularly of the scene in Davy Jones' Locker (with the crabs). The plot was convoluted and everyone had his or her own agenda (these turn out to be good things in this movie, though others disagree). My complaints would be: c'mon, seriously, you can do better than "The Amazing Growing Fifty-Foot Tall Woman!" Seriously, turn her into a crab fountain instead. Much more awesome. Also: Calypso talks big, but when it comes down to it, what does she do? Effectively nothing. Three ships in the maelstrom. Whoop-de-do.

As usual, sit to the end of the credits for a treat.

Pan's Labyrinth (El Labertino del fauno) (2006)

Warner Bros. Pictures, Tequila Gang, Esperanto Filmoj, Estudios Picasso, OMM, Sententia Entertainment, Telecinco
Directed by: Guillermo del Toro

Pan's Labyrinth, set in 1944 Spain, is a dark fantasy centered around a young girl, Ofelia, and the fairytale that engulfs her. Ofelia is brought to the countryside by her mother to join her mother's new husband, a captain in the Spanish Army. Capitán Vidal has been sent to put down guerrilla resistance fighters at any cost, and it is against this cruel backdrop that Ofelia's fairytale plays out.

Although I had never heard of this movie before we rented it, I was immediately hooked by it. The rich, dark fantasy setting is well juxtaposed with harsh reality, and though the fantasy is gruesome and mysterious, reality is far darker. All the performers did a wonderful job, from Sergi López who made me want to put a bullet between the eyes of his character, to Maribel Verdú, whose Mercedes nearly made me want to join the resistance.

I highly recommend this film, but be warned: it has very violent moments and is certainly not for children.

The Time Machine

H.G. Wells

And, having finished reading The Time Machine (Project Gutenberg; also available as a computer-generated audio book, a human-generated audio book, and a Dover Thrift Edition), I've decided that H.G. Wells is one of my new favorite authors.

The Time Machine is the story of an inventor's journey into the future, told from the point of view of someone he told the story to, where he meets mankind's descendants, a pair of symbiotic, half-sentient species called the Eloi and the Morlocks. Although at first the future seems idyllic, if slightly pitiful due to the lack of intelligence, there is a growing suspicion that something is terribly wrong.

The timescapes described in the novel are very interesting; they are obviously the basis for the timescape in the first episode of Futurama, among, I'm sure, many others. Characterization is somewhat scant; the only two we really learn about are the Time Traveller and his Eloi companion, Weena. But, it is sufficient.

Throughout the book, I kept thinking to myself: this would make an excellent Interactive Fiction (think 'Zork' but with all the conveniences of 2007 [except graphics]) game; I am half considering writing one myself.

Also see The Grey Man (wikisource), a deleted section from the novel.

The Island of Dr. Moreau

H.G. Wells

A while back, I'd come across a set of Dover thrift classics consisting of five works by H.G. Wells, and, since I'd never read anything by Wells (not even The Time Machine or The War of the Worlds!), I picked up the set, but since then it has sat on the shelf, not even opened until yesterday, when I picked out The Island of Dr. Moreau to read.

The Island of Dr. Moreau (Project Gutenberg; also available as a Dover Thrift Edition) is set around the end of the 19th century, and concerns the strange adventure of Edward Prendick, a passenger on the Lady Vain, and what befell him after that ship's wreck. Prendick is saved from starvation and thirst by a passing schooner, which then leaves him marooned on a strange little island with some of the schooner's passengers. He learns that the owner of the island, a Dr. Moreau, after having been forced out of London for performing unusual and terrifying experiments, has set up shop on the island, and is continuing his pursuit of knowledge.

The Island of Dr. Moreau is, as are many others of Wells' works, a seminal work in science fiction, exploring the themes of morality in biological experimentation, "Playing God", and the question of what constitutes 'humanity', very common themes in modern discourse and fiction. The novel doesn't shy away from these ideas, but instead presents them unblinkingly for the reader. Although we are presented with what is a rather stern denunciation of biological experimentation (and, consequently, "Playing God"), the further question of humanity is left undetermined; at the end, Prendick, having lived amongst the creatures of the island, has difficulty re-adjusting to life among humans, even sometimes confusing them for the creatures, making us wonder whether the creatures were closer to humanity than one might expect.

All in all, I recommend this book, not merely because it is a science fiction classic, but, like most science fiction, poses questions that don't have easy answers, or perhaps any answers at all.

Patternmaster

Octavia E. Butler

Patternmaster is the first-published, but last-chronologically, book of Butler's Patternist series, set in the far future when Earth is ruled by a race of telepathic humans, who subjugate humans without telepathy (called "mutes") and fight against the Clayarks, humans mutated into sphinx-like creatures by an alien virus. It tells the story of a young man and his struggle for freedom in this society.

I've read, and am quite fond of, several of Butler's novels, mostly from the Xenogenesis and Parable series, but this is the first I've read of the Patternist series. Not long ago, I was in the bookstore buying some books for mom for mother's day. I saw Patternmaster on the shelf, and, since I hadn't read it and I knew that she liked other books by Butler as well, bought it for her. Amazingly, while they were on vacation, both she and my father read and enjoyed it!

I enjoyed the book as well. It has strong science fiction themes, and allows us to see ourselves from another viewpoint. It also has a slightly dystopian setting, which is one of my favorites. Unfortunately, I felt the characterization was somewhat lacking (I didn't care about the characters very much), and sometimes the characters' actions didn't seem to quite match their motivations. I also felt that the ending didn't quite fit; that it was too abrupt.

Nevertheless, I recommend this book and others by Butler if you're a science fiction fan.

Small Gods

Terry Pratchett

Small Gods, a discworld book, is set in Omnia, which is in the Klatchian desert, and in Ephebe, which borders the desert and the Circle Sea. On the Disc, gods need believers - not just worshipers, but actual believers. They don't need them to survive, exactly, but the more believers a god has, the more powerful he, she or it is. Some gods are very small gods indeed, like Om, who happens to be (at the moment) a tortoise. He's doing better than some, though; he's got a whole city of violent, expansionist worshipers, and exactly one believer.

Which is why he's a tortoise.

Small Gods is in Pratchett's usual satirical style, poking fun at religion and helping us see it from another angle. Unfortunately, this book doesn't sparkle like some of the others I've read. It's alright, and it has moments of humor (see below for some quotes), but it didn't have me laughing out loud. I wish I could point to a defect and say, "here's the problem," but I can't.

If you like Pratchett, you'll enjoy this one, but if you've never read him before, start somewhere else!

Quotables:

Cuius testiculos habes, habeas cardia et cerebellum.

"...That's why it's always worth having a few philosophers around the place. One minute it's all Is Truth Beauty and Is Beauty Truth, and Does a Falling Tree in the Forest Make a Sound if There's No One There to Hear It, and then just when you think they're going to start dribbling one of 'em says, Incidentally, putting a thirty-foot parabolic reflector on a high place to shoot the rays of the sun at an enemy's ships would be a very interesting demonstration of optical principles."

XIX. Hah! You Want A Constitutional Religion?
"Why not? The other sort didn't work."

VI. This Is Religion, Boy. Not Comparison Bloody Shopping! You Shall Not Subject Your God To Market Forces!

The Picture of Dorian Gray

Oscar Wilde

The Picture of Dorian Gray (Project Gutenberg, though I read the Dover thrift edition. Also available in the 13-chapter form), tells of a young man, Dorian Gray, who, in a moment of whimsy wishes that he could remain ever young and handsome, while instead a portrait of him should bear the sorrows and age that he would suffer. This is, of course, exactly what happens.

I had been aware of The Picture of Dorian Gray for some time, probably since before the 2003 movie The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, but I became interested in the movie's portrayal of Dorian Gray's curse, and so, some time ago, I bought the book to read it for myself. I finished it yesterday, and I'm not as happy with it as I'd like.

I don't really care for extended descriptions, which the novel had in abundance, nor for tangents with little bearing on the story. The novel was too long for what it covered, and put too much irrelevancies forth that belong somewhere else (although, there were occasional quips that I enjoyed). I think I'm glad I haven't read anything else by Wilde; I'd be bored practically to tears.

Nevertheless, the plot and characterization of the novel were good, although any suspense was killed by the long descriptive passages. I wonder whether the shorter version is any better, but I suspect that the additional material added more to plot and substance than otherwise.

So, if you like lots of descriptive prose, then read The Picture of Dorian Gray, and maybe if you think you need to complete your yearly Classic Literature quota, but otherwise, I'd steer clear.