aletheiafelinea (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aletheiafelinea) wrote2012-09-12 10:01 pm
aletheiafelinea) wrote2012-09-12 10:01 pm
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More dragons, more murders, and friends of a philosopher
As before, I use the original titles and add ‘my’ covers.
Naomi Novik, Throne of Jade and Black Powder War
I liked these ones much better than the first part, not only for that I prefer culture clashes over battle stories. I think they were just better written, with more deft and natural style (there happen really savory and well done bits, like the essay at the end of the Black Powder War, some of dialogues, and smile bringing tiny scenes and images, like sneezing dragons with runny noses, or the speleology-like medical inspection of throat, or the startled Iskierka jumping into her captain not-quite-supporting arms), better psychology (characters feel more lively and variable; I love Dr. Keynes, and I suspect it tells ill about my sense of tact... or just tells about my ill sense of tact? *g*), and more logical setting. Gaps in the universe's mechanics, if they happen, feel more inspiring than annoying. But, comparing to the first part, they are much more seldom and insignificant, cause there's put more attention to the sociology, economy and such. Mind, I don't say a word about things like “why does a dozens tons beast move and react with the same 'sense of time' as humans?” or “how do they talk at all, with reptile mouths and throats?”, cause I take it just as the genre's convention. I don't care also for any possible flaws in historical accuracy. Come on, it's AH! If there are dragons, why other details couldn't shift, just for possibly different course of events? That's why I'm picky only for the logic and coherency of the universe. For example, XIX age carabiners don't bother me, only what I would pick at, is why they are common only between aviators and not seamen, though the latter would be delighted by the dings, and there's no visible reason to keep them in secret.
Alas, the quality of the series itself and its translation, comparing to the first part again, seems to split apart. Did I say the last time the translation isn't as poor as some others? Now it is. Mistaken words, typos, mistaken spelling and punctuation, grammar errors so popular and commonly mocked that in a published novel they are like a screech on glass, and visible places where the translator changed his mind and the both versions have remained. All in all, a classic case of a translator in a horrible hurry and a publisher skimping on proofreading...
I hope the tendency will keep up, except, of course, the 'quality' of translation. And I have some hopes, or at least curiosity, for the movie adaptation. The material certainly is promising, though a lot would depend on the realization, especially actors.
Agatha Christie, The Big Four
So far, the worst Christie I've read. A very subjective view, maybe someone other would enjoy the plot you could expect rather from Ian Fleming or Clive Cussler, but I'm not particularly fond of conspiracy theories, evil lords craving for power over the world, 'magnetic rays' in the role of decoration, and big bangs without any reason in the plot. That is, if we don't count “the book had to end somehow” as a reason. And I don't even think it's a spoiler. The usual grumble is that a book is too slow and boring. Have you ever met a book where the action is too quick? Try this one. A plot point at every page. It gives the impression of something stitched of every idea which came to the author in the previous years and didn't fit anywhere other or was not enough promising for an individual novel. I could agree for five or so murders & solutions on two hundred or so pages, but I'd rather it as a bunch of short stories...
Agatha Christie, Elephants Can Remember
Much better, at least in the plot department, at least for me. However, this book is the opposition of The Big Four, and maybe exaggerated a bit in the other way, cause somewhat overtalked... Not really much, but I had a moment or two or ten of “wtf is this being told for?” and “why is it repeated for the third time in other words???” Comparing The Big Four and the Elephants, maybe it's not quite true what I said before about Christie's unchanging style – these two books differ as much as if they came from two authors (even if one takes the difference of genres into the account). By the way, if I see SPOILER ALERT again The Most Overused Christie's Trick, that is “someone was in fact someone other in disguise” I'll be howling to the moon and biting... Seriously, the mystery ends in the moment of the first mention about the wigs. END OF SPOILER ALERT Still, I prefer it over 'magnetic rays of death' or what it was. And there's a lot of Ariadna Oliver, my favorite besides the Beresfords!
Charles Osborn, adaptation of The Unexpected Guest by Agatha Christie
For a change, this was one of the very best. One of these you want to re-read after the solution. Also one of these having more than just a nice in reading puzzle, but also a good dose of morality issues. It's also an extremely rare specimen of Christie's story, cause how often SPOILER ALERT you can see her letting the murderer free? END OF SPOILER ALERT It's also a novel of my favorite sort (between Christie's ones), that is a standalone with one-time characters. All in all, it's a satisfying piece of work, interesting at the start, and moving at the end. I mentioned before that I take Christie's stories like chocolates, one-time snacks, but The Unexpected Guest is one of few I'd like to keep. No, not on a shelf, just in memory.
Charles Osborn, adaptation of Black Coffee by Agatha Christie
Adaptations of dramas read rather awkward, like looking at petrified bones tied together with wire. You know they're authentic and put in their supposed places and standing in the proper pose, but still they're dead stone without flesh, and with visibly outstanding replicas where the original bits got lost. In The Unexpected Guest it doesn't feel so much disturbing; you can – almost – forget it, though there's some regret that the author chose to write it as drama, not novel, cause it would be – from a bookworm's point of view – even better then. But in the Black Coffee this drama origin is a nuisance. I don't know what Mr. Osborn's way of work was, but you get the impression as if he used to recall some particular staging and write down the report. And it feels as if the Black Coffee was played in more, hm, theatrical manner, and it seeped into the narration, soaked with nervous stammering, desperately outstretched arms, and haunted expressions. My endurance for melodrama snapped at the revealed culprit's tributary speech for the detective. Though, considering this element, it was probably also the matter of the original drama's quality... Nevertheless, it was still quite enjoyable to read, as a story. And now I want some novel born as a novel, please.
Bertrand Russell, Autobiography 1872-1914
Probably it looks absurdly, to be fascinated with a mathematician when being uninterested in math, yet fortunately Russell himself was fascinated with far more things than math, and what matters the most, he was skilled in telling his thoughts on these things. I like his clear and clever style, not devoid of beauty. Why do nowadays teachers tell students that it's wrong to complain for obscurity of scientific literature, cause it has to be reliable, not readable, as if one excluded the other? It's just the excuse of a bad writer; old scientists somehow managed and didn't whine.
Admittedly the book isn't a scientific one, but definitely it's a biography of a scientist, and it feels. It's the first part, and I have an impression it would be unwise to read only this one, cause it's as much the overview of the recalled life as the register of a developing personality and changing mind, and the latter often prevails, mostly due of the book's form, which in great part is composed of authentic letters and diaries, not always clearly labeled as 'out-of-date views'. The register is earnest, possibly too earnest for some, telling also details which show the author in hardly favourable light.
Half of the relation regards not Russell himself, but people he knew. I was a bit annoyed founding that these fragments are mostly the same as in the Portraits of Memory, cause I don't like getting the same with other label. Still, it strikes how Russell always lists some good features even at figures he disliked, and usually it feels as coming quite natural to him. There’s also one thing characteristic in many autobiographies: memories of other artists/scientists/just friends, admired in awe by the autobiography’s author, who felt clumsy and far from perfection at their side. You’re almost nodding over every such mention, so familiar experience it seems, something we all share... I think so, at least? And you’re thinking, how great they were, in that case. Considering that many or most of them is more or less forgotten now, you also hesitate: the history verified the greatness, or just the history’s an unfair bitch? A bit of both, I suppose…
All this aside, it’s a good read. Written in the middle of the 20th century, it feels very 19th. And I mean the flow of sentences *coughAustencough*, not page-long descriptions of facial expressions *coughConradcough*. And I had an edition from 1971, so the browned paper helped the impression. But I don’t think I’m really convincing, so I’ll better give the place to Russell himself:
- He advocated Ido rather than Esperanto. … He lamented that the word Ido did not lend itself to the formation of a word similar to Esperantist. I suggested ‘idiot’, but he was not quite pleased.
- She used to say that you could always tell when an Englishman was going to propose, because he began: ‘The governor’s a rum sort of chap, but I think you’d get on with him.’
- Only in thought is man a God; in action and desire we are the slaves of circumstance.
- It is a great thing to find a puzzle; because, so long as it is puzzling one knows one has not got to the bottom of things.
- Are you finding the Great Secret in the East? I doubt it. There is none – there is not even an enigma. There is science and sober daylight and the business of the day – the rest is mere phantoms of the dusk.
Naomi Novik, Throne of Jade and Black Powder WarI liked these ones much better than the first part, not only for that I prefer culture clashes over battle stories. I think they were just better written, with more deft and natural style (there happen really savory and well done bits, like the essay at the end of the Black Powder War, some of dialogues, and smile bringing tiny scenes and images, like sneezing dragons with runny noses, or the speleology-like medical inspection of throat, or the startled Iskierka jumping into her captain not-quite-supporting arms), better psychology (characters feel more lively and variable; I love Dr. Keynes, and I suspect it tells ill about my sense of tact... or just tells about my ill sense of tact? *g*), and more logical setting. Gaps in the universe's mechanics, if they happen, feel more inspiring than annoying. But, comparing to the first part, they are much more seldom and insignificant, cause there's put more attention to the sociology, economy and such. Mind, I don't say a word about things like “why does a dozens tons beast move and react with the same 'sense of time' as humans?” or “how do they talk at all, with reptile mouths and throats?”, cause I take it just as the genre's convention. I don't care also for any possible flaws in historical accuracy. Come on, it's AH! If there are dragons, why other details couldn't shift, just for possibly different course of events? That's why I'm picky only for the logic and coherency of the universe. For example, XIX age carabiners don't bother me, only what I would pick at, is why they are common only between aviators and not seamen, though the latter would be delighted by the dings, and there's no visible reason to keep them in secret.
Alas, the quality of the series itself and its translation, comparing to the first part again, seems to split apart. Did I say the last time the translation isn't as poor as some others? Now it is. Mistaken words, typos, mistaken spelling and punctuation, grammar errors so popular and commonly mocked that in a published novel they are like a screech on glass, and visible places where the translator changed his mind and the both versions have remained. All in all, a classic case of a translator in a horrible hurry and a publisher skimping on proofreading...
I hope the tendency will keep up, except, of course, the 'quality' of translation. And I have some hopes, or at least curiosity, for the movie adaptation. The material certainly is promising, though a lot would depend on the realization, especially actors.
Agatha Christie, The Big FourSo far, the worst Christie I've read. A very subjective view, maybe someone other would enjoy the plot you could expect rather from Ian Fleming or Clive Cussler, but I'm not particularly fond of conspiracy theories, evil lords craving for power over the world, 'magnetic rays' in the role of decoration, and big bangs without any reason in the plot. That is, if we don't count “the book had to end somehow” as a reason. And I don't even think it's a spoiler. The usual grumble is that a book is too slow and boring. Have you ever met a book where the action is too quick? Try this one. A plot point at every page. It gives the impression of something stitched of every idea which came to the author in the previous years and didn't fit anywhere other or was not enough promising for an individual novel. I could agree for five or so murders & solutions on two hundred or so pages, but I'd rather it as a bunch of short stories...
Agatha Christie, Elephants Can RememberMuch better, at least in the plot department, at least for me. However, this book is the opposition of The Big Four, and maybe exaggerated a bit in the other way, cause somewhat overtalked... Not really much, but I had a moment or two or ten of “wtf is this being told for?” and “why is it repeated for the third time in other words???” Comparing The Big Four and the Elephants, maybe it's not quite true what I said before about Christie's unchanging style – these two books differ as much as if they came from two authors (even if one takes the difference of genres into the account). By the way, if I see SPOILER ALERT again The Most Overused Christie's Trick, that is “someone was in fact someone other in disguise” I'll be howling to the moon and biting... Seriously, the mystery ends in the moment of the first mention about the wigs. END OF SPOILER ALERT Still, I prefer it over 'magnetic rays of death' or what it was. And there's a lot of Ariadna Oliver, my favorite besides the Beresfords!
Charles Osborn, adaptation of The Unexpected Guest by Agatha ChristieFor a change, this was one of the very best. One of these you want to re-read after the solution. Also one of these having more than just a nice in reading puzzle, but also a good dose of morality issues. It's also an extremely rare specimen of Christie's story, cause how often SPOILER ALERT you can see her letting the murderer free? END OF SPOILER ALERT It's also a novel of my favorite sort (between Christie's ones), that is a standalone with one-time characters. All in all, it's a satisfying piece of work, interesting at the start, and moving at the end. I mentioned before that I take Christie's stories like chocolates, one-time snacks, but The Unexpected Guest is one of few I'd like to keep. No, not on a shelf, just in memory.
Charles Osborn, adaptation of Black Coffee by Agatha ChristieAdaptations of dramas read rather awkward, like looking at petrified bones tied together with wire. You know they're authentic and put in their supposed places and standing in the proper pose, but still they're dead stone without flesh, and with visibly outstanding replicas where the original bits got lost. In The Unexpected Guest it doesn't feel so much disturbing; you can – almost – forget it, though there's some regret that the author chose to write it as drama, not novel, cause it would be – from a bookworm's point of view – even better then. But in the Black Coffee this drama origin is a nuisance. I don't know what Mr. Osborn's way of work was, but you get the impression as if he used to recall some particular staging and write down the report. And it feels as if the Black Coffee was played in more, hm, theatrical manner, and it seeped into the narration, soaked with nervous stammering, desperately outstretched arms, and haunted expressions. My endurance for melodrama snapped at the revealed culprit's tributary speech for the detective. Though, considering this element, it was probably also the matter of the original drama's quality... Nevertheless, it was still quite enjoyable to read, as a story. And now I want some novel born as a novel, please.
Bertrand Russell, Autobiography 1872-1914Probably it looks absurdly, to be fascinated with a mathematician when being uninterested in math, yet fortunately Russell himself was fascinated with far more things than math, and what matters the most, he was skilled in telling his thoughts on these things. I like his clear and clever style, not devoid of beauty. Why do nowadays teachers tell students that it's wrong to complain for obscurity of scientific literature, cause it has to be reliable, not readable, as if one excluded the other? It's just the excuse of a bad writer; old scientists somehow managed and didn't whine.
Admittedly the book isn't a scientific one, but definitely it's a biography of a scientist, and it feels. It's the first part, and I have an impression it would be unwise to read only this one, cause it's as much the overview of the recalled life as the register of a developing personality and changing mind, and the latter often prevails, mostly due of the book's form, which in great part is composed of authentic letters and diaries, not always clearly labeled as 'out-of-date views'. The register is earnest, possibly too earnest for some, telling also details which show the author in hardly favourable light.
Half of the relation regards not Russell himself, but people he knew. I was a bit annoyed founding that these fragments are mostly the same as in the Portraits of Memory, cause I don't like getting the same with other label. Still, it strikes how Russell always lists some good features even at figures he disliked, and usually it feels as coming quite natural to him. There’s also one thing characteristic in many autobiographies: memories of other artists/scientists/just friends, admired in awe by the autobiography’s author, who felt clumsy and far from perfection at their side. You’re almost nodding over every such mention, so familiar experience it seems, something we all share... I think so, at least? And you’re thinking, how great they were, in that case. Considering that many or most of them is more or less forgotten now, you also hesitate: the history verified the greatness, or just the history’s an unfair bitch? A bit of both, I suppose…
All this aside, it’s a good read. Written in the middle of the 20th century, it feels very 19th. And I mean the flow of sentences *coughAustencough*, not page-long descriptions of facial expressions *coughConradcough*. And I had an edition from 1971, so the browned paper helped the impression. But I don’t think I’m really convincing, so I’ll better give the place to Russell himself:
- He advocated Ido rather than Esperanto. … He lamented that the word Ido did not lend itself to the formation of a word similar to Esperantist. I suggested ‘idiot’, but he was not quite pleased.
- She used to say that you could always tell when an Englishman was going to propose, because he began: ‘The governor’s a rum sort of chap, but I think you’d get on with him.’
- Only in thought is man a God; in action and desire we are the slaves of circumstance.
- It is a great thing to find a puzzle; because, so long as it is puzzling one knows one has not got to the bottom of things.
- Are you finding the Great Secret in the East? I doubt it. There is none – there is not even an enigma. There is science and sober daylight and the business of the day – the rest is mere phantoms of the dusk.
no subject
I dislike Agatha Christie - I used to like her books as a teenager but on re-reading have found them to be formulaic and poor on characterisation. I don't recognise the titles you have been reading but I think often publishers use different titles for different language editions and then the translations don't make sense...
The Bertrand Russell book sounds interesting.
I enjoy your reviews, and am thinking that after a year (let's wait till Christmas) of just briefly reviewing everything I read I might go for just listing things and reviewing worthwhile books in more depth. I used to do that (on LJ) but was interested to see what happened looking at an entire year's reading, and giving ratings etc.
no subject
That was also my thought! I'm very sorry to inform that Sharpe series was mangled even more, it's hard to find a faultless page. I shuddered and escaped to the originals. What a relief it was, uff... Alas, I'm afraid that my feelings for Temeraire series aren't hot enough for so heavily purse-draining solution. And anyway, it doesn't hinder reading so much, in fact. It's just a nuisance.
I don't expect total 'reality' though I would be taken aback if, for instance, the dragons had wings that were obviously too fragile to support them.
This is what I meant, more or less. I'm sorry if I didn't say it clearly. ^^'
poor on characterisation
This can explain why I forget most of them immediately... Hm, I think I see it like this: any single book of her is a nice pastime and rarely something more, and if one expects some thought-inciting material from her books, it can be found rather in her overall bibliography - typical solutions and recurrent threads, portrait of the epoch, and so on. I use to judge books (films, whatever) as 'friendable' or not (even if good). Christie is good, IMO, but Temeraire is more friendable, though, IMHO, not as good. And Sharpe is good and friendable. At least for me.
I don't translate titles 'back' for these quasi-reviews; I always use the original ones, taken from my copies, but also checked in other sources, just in case. I meant these books: The Big Four (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Big_Four_(novel)), Elephants Can Remember (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elephants_Can_Remember), The Unexpected Guest (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Unexpected_Guest_(book)), Black Coffee (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Coffee_(book)). The quotations are also taken from the original texts. I add the covers just for fun, as embellishments (also cause they're a bit exotic for most of my readers, I suppose; at least I'd like it being on their place), and as the message of sort: 'Warning! I've read a translation!', but that's all. By 'original title' I mean 'the one given by the author' or rather in practice 'the one used in the author's country'. That's also why I had used His Majesty's Dragon, not Temeraire. Hm, looks like it'll be better if I give links in future. *takes mental note*
The Bertrand Russell book sounds interesting.
It definitely is, though probably I should add that pages and pages of letters became tiresome after some time. I liked the main narration better.
I must find some time and see your reviews, I'm especially curious if we had many mutual readings. Heh, I always go desperate and hair-tearing, when I try to put some stars or grades on things I've read/watched... It's so difficult to decide. :D That's why I didn't even try it here.
no subject