Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Child of God by Cormac McCarthy (1973)
Published in 1973, Cormac McCarthy's Child of God is an earthy book, full of intensely poetic prose, illuminating the land the protagonist, Lester Ballard, inhabits. Ballard, "a child of God, much like yourself perhaps" is a man cut loose from societal norms who roams the hills of Tennessee, trying just to live, and occupying himself with... unspeakable acts.
McCarthy brilliantly describes this child's descent into depravity, his bizarre yearnings, and the horrific results when his lusts are acted upon. And there is something childlike about Ballard, not innocence, but the ugly petulance of a child not getting what he wants. Not someone we sympathize with, much, but someone we watch with dreadful fascination. And there are other creatures in these hills, with strange speech patterns and worrisome familial relationships, making the movie Deliverance (released just a year before this was published) seem like a walk in the park.
But this is not just some sensationalized tale of hillbilly stereotypes and profligate degeneracy. There is much to meditate on here, not least of which is what happens to those people neglected, marginalized, on the fringes, forgotten. Nothing good really. They haven't forgotten us after all. Sounds like a drag, but it's a funny book too, with much twisted humor, albeit mostly at Ballard's expense.
Apparently this is being made into a movie directed by James Franco. Hopefully it will be as good as the other Cormac McCarthy books that have made it to film. But the movies don't have McCarthy's haunting and hallucinatory prose, so you won't get descriptions like: "he moves along the barn wall, himself fiddlebacked with light, a petty annoyance flickering across the wall-ward eye".
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Protector by Larry Niven (1973) classic hard science fiction with knobby aliens
Labels:
1973,
books,
Dean Ellis,
Larry Niven,
novel,
science fiction
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang by Kate Wilhelm (1976) - clones are creepy
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| 1977 Pocket Book, cover art by Ed Soyka |
This excellent science fiction novel (winner of both the Hugo and Nebula awards) starts out with a near future doomsday scenario. There's massive pollution leading to climate change, plague and disease, starvation and economic collapse. So this super wealthy family, some of whom are politicians and scientists who foresaw the worst, prepared for the coming collapse of civilization by creating their own little scientific compound in a valley somewhere in New England. Ultimately the plan is to start a new community with the help of cloning. At first this just means cloning livestock, since all of the animals have been dying. But they soon realize there will be a shortage of people because of infertility, so they decide to clone humans too. Which is where it gets interesting. You see, clones are kind of creepy...
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| 1976 Harper & Row with M. C. Escher cover |
The tale is told from the vantage point of several different characters across several generations (clone generations not being quite the same as regular human gens). The main conflict, besides survival, is the individual versus the group. Nonconformity was a great concern in seventies literature, with science fiction writers being particularly intrigued by the idea of pitting individual freedom against what's best for society as a whole. The sympathy would usually (though not always) side with the individual. Kate Wilhelm does a great job of presenting a case for both sides, although ultimately it is the individual who has the wherewithal to survive. The nonconformist has the imagination to navigate a new beginning, whereas the hive-minded clones are stifled by their reliance on the group. Yea for imagination!
Labels:
1976,
books,
clones,
Kate Wilhellm,
novel,
science fiction
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John le Carré (1974) - mole hunting in Britain
My parents bought this book when it first came out and I remember being intrigued by the title, especially the spy part. Of course James Bond was the quintessential spy in the early '70s, especially for young boys. When I did finally get around to reading this book in the later '70s I understood that this was no James Bond caper - pretty much the opposite in fact. John le Carré created an anti-James Bond spy hero in George Smiley, who on the surface is a curmudgeonly, out-of-shape old man. As this book begins he is in forced retirement, but is persuaded to return to the fold to hunt for a Soviet mole inside the "Circus"- the British secret intelligence service and his former empoyer. Smiley is one the most perfectly realized characters I have ever had the pleasure to come across in fiction, spy genre or otherwise. le Carré is brilliant in his descriptions of Smiley's various taciturn ways, his mannerisms and lack thereof, his quiet observation and patience - mostly his steely intelligence as he closes in on his quarry. Not much for action fans here, it's a more cerebral ride, and thoroughly engaging. I won't get into plot specifics as any details are better uncovered in the reading as layers are peeled back slowly to reveal the awful truth. A truly exceptional novel and a great, great protagonist in George Smiley.
Labels:
1974,
books,
George Smiley,
John le Carré. Spy novel,
moles,
novel
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Sharp Practice by John Farris (1974) - a southern gothic psychopathic maniac suspense thriller
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| 1988 printing, uncredited artwork, small wonder |
Farris is expert at having a seemingly placid scene suddenly erupt into shocking violence. He also writes well drawn three-dimensional characters, whose actions are always in keeping with their character. The plot gets pretty thick but never confusing. It's a fast read, overall a recommendable thriller from the 70s, especially for fans of John Farris.
A note on the cover art: I haven't been able to find a good shot of the 1974 edition of this book. No doubt it is better than the one above. In the 1980s they started overusing that embossed foil stamping, especially rampant in horror fiction, and the artwork became secondary.
Labels:
1974,
books,
horror fiction,
John Farris,
novel,
psychopathic killer,
southern gothic,
suspense
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
The Blue Hammer by Ross Macdonald (1976) - a steady pulse
This was the last Lew Archer novel by Ross Macdonald. Published in 1976 it takes place in California with a little jaunt over to Arizona. Private detective Archer is hired to recover a stolen painting and return it to its rightful owners. Sounds simple enough but the case soon turns deadly. What follows is a complicated and rather confusing crime drama which will involve four murders, fratricide, thievery, blackmail, a cult (in a very minor role to be sure), kidnapping, stolen identities and generally bad behavior by many individuals. Lew has a tough time trying to piece it all together and to complicate things further he falls for a dame.
Macdonald (real name Kenneth Millar, 1915-1983) is an excellent writer and he holds this twisting plot together brilliantly. Written in the first person, Archer is quite likeable, a tough guy but very human, hardboiled but compassionate. He's getting older and ruminates a lot. There is actually very little violence (the murders all take place away from Archer) and Lew spends more time trying to stop fights than start them. The cast of characters is quite colorful and all are well drawn. While it is a little hard to keep track of everybody, and their relationship to each other, Macdonald (via Archer) manages, after a few more twists, to lay it all out for you in the end.
Labels:
1976,
books,
crime,
detective,
hardboiled,
Lew Archer,
mystery,
novel,
Ross Macdonald
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The World Inside by Robert Silverberg (1971) - vertical living in 2381
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| 1971 Doubleday, artwork by James Starrett |
Labels:
1971,
books,
future cities,
novel,
overpopulation,
Robert Silverberg,
science fiction
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said by Philip K. Dick (1974)


I first discovered my favorite Science Fiction writer in 1973 or '74, just around the time this novel was first published. Dick only published a handful of novels in the '70s, after having been quite prolific in the 1960s. This is one of his most excellent books, featuring many of his trademark themes: paranoia, drugs, an unstable reality, flying cars, Jungian philosophy, etc. Jason Taverner, a very famous television personality wakes up (after have been bitten by a sponge creature) to find that no one knows who he is, that he in fact does not seem to have existed in the world he has woken up to. Nothing goes too well after that. There are several encounters with dubious individuals, including the policeman of the title. Finally, his past starts slipping back into the world after he ingests some drugs. Of course it doesn't end there. It's all quite brilliant in that Philip K. Dick way. My only criticism would be the epilogue, which I felt was not needed and diminished the impact of the last chapter. But it's just a quibble. Overall an outstanding novel.Several excellent paperback editions were published by DAW. I'm referring to the artwork of course. My favorite is the first from 1975, but I quite enjoy them all. Art by Hans Ulrich & Ute Osterwalder (top, 1975), Larry Kresek (middle, 1976) and Oliviero Berni (bottom, 1981).
Labels:
1974,
anxiety,
books,
novel,
paranoia,
Philip K. Dick,
science fiction
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