and the modem cable doesn’t quite reach to the bed, but I’ll post this later. Yay for laptops and duvets.
Anyway, here’s some random ranting about books worth your time. Read them. READ THEM ALL!!! /zim
“A Canticle for Leibowitz” by Walter M. Miller
In the beginning, the Lord made the earth, and it was good. But Man grew wicked so the Lord sent the Flood to wash away the sins of Man. But Man grew wicked again in his power, so the Lord sent the Fire Flood to wash away the sins of Man, and allowed the Demon Fallout to walk the land, stealing the children of Man. And Man burned his wicked books, and anyone who knew how to read.
This may have happened more than once.
And in the middle of some god-awful desert, where no man would want to go, live a bunch of monks. They have a bunch of books written on goatskin, which lasts about a thousand year, but the inks they use only last a few hundred. So they spend their days copying the fading books longhand.
And that’s just the backstory. Its not a cheerful book, but it is important.
“Red shift” by Alan Garner
Words like flame, words like thunder. The repeating tiny catastrophes of English culture. Far too close to the bone for me to enjoy.
“Strandloper” by Alan Garner
A Cheshire brickie gets deported for learning to read, ends up an Aboriginal spiritual leader. And its a true story, or as true as you’re going to get.
“Thursbitch” by Alan Garner
You’re all going to die. And that’s just how it is.
Just anything by Alan Garner, ok? Unflinching, honest, the finest cants and breath-taking craftsmanship. We forget how important it is, to be so skilled that what you’re doing looks like nothing at all.
“Vurt” by Jeff Noon
Garner writes about what it is to be human, i.e. what it is to be divine. Noon writes about what it is to be utterly mashed up, staggering around cities in the dead of the night. Virtual drugs in a virtual Manchester, virtually the end of the world as we know it, but the rain is real.
“Perdito Street Station” by China Mieville
Neil Gaiman and his twee little tales can go suck a fat one. London eats its young, and spits them out rather mangled and pissed off. With the scariest monsters ever, and worse allies. When the Lords of Hell are afraid of the Weaver, you’re going to ask him for help?
(“Iron Dragon’s Daughter” by Michael Swanwick too, gasoline-power dragons with stealth skin. And rough fairy nookie too.)
“Stone baby” by Joolz Denby
You know that taste in your mouth after you’ve just been punched in the face? The taste of your head ringing? For those fed up of the romanticism of crime and violence. Gamy.
And now for more vitamin C.