Alex James's Blog: AlexJamesNovels Blog - Posts Tagged "classic"

It seems awkward to write a frank review of a book by a deceased author, but that is what I shall attempt to do. Before reading War of the Worlds, my only experience of the story was the Tom Cruise film. I was quite astonished when I started reading to see that the setting is not the modern world. (How could it be, when the author wrote War of the Worlds at the end of the 19th century?). Instead it was Victorian London, a world without computers and flying machines.

When a shooting star is seen by telescope, wonder was the only possible emotion for the narrator/main protagonist. Wonder of what is, and would could be? It’s satisfying to know there were keen minds that thought further than the town and society they lived; indeed much criticism was made of the common people who could not even conceptualise or imagine what an alien was. An alien, as in a being from a different planet, would appear as man does, would it not?

From this setting, HG Wells uses his flair for description to give us a vivid and at first terrifying glimpse of London under siege by Martian terror machines. It was not simply an attack of superior weaponry against humanity, but one of psychology, for the human race was ill-prepared to foresee such brutal and uncompromising attacks. An intelligent race that would ignore all attempts at communication and prioritise the destruction of humanity was outside the realms of reason. From apathy to mindless terror we are reduced to, and I could not help but see the irony of it all. The narrator’s biggest fear was that the Martians would be carnivores, i.e like man. Many comparisons are made between how a man sees and treats harmless insects or bees, and how the Martians, in their massive killing machines, may well perceive humanity. Yet, the main protagonist had to scour the countryside for animals to kill and eat in his desperate escape.

Another point of criticism was that, though the description and use of language was superb, I felt it lacked certain immediacy. When other characters are introduced, it is also through the narrator/main protagonist’s thoughts and there are large gaps between current events and these digressions. The reaction to dead bodies reads numbly throughout, but I’m not sure if this was intentional. Some modern readers may well be put off by the London setting, which may not have a lot of relevance to the present.

What I liked most about War of the Worlds was, strangely, the horror of it all. In the first six or seven chapters, I was there, witnessing something so terrible and abhorrent mainly because it was mysterious and unfathomable. In the great machinations of the universe, humankind seemed miniscule, irrelevant even. Overall the human response to such an overwhelming event was educational, and I would read more of HG Wells’ books because there was a stroke of originality in it, set apart as it is from the present. And no mention of computers!

Seen the film and not sure if the book can match it? Think again! Casino Royale blew me away. From basic mission dossiers from M, to what can only be described as one of the most intricate and yet fascinating build-ups to a casino game that will decide the fate of Soviet agent Le Chiffre. In a manoeuvre orchestrated between London and the folks at Washington, Bond is the man best placed to out-gamble Le Chiffre and remove the substantial Soviet fifth column of 50,000 men that he controls.

His nemesis is desperate to pay off his debts and this game will be the perfect chance. If Le Chiffre loses, his Soviet paymasters will hunt him down with the deadly organisation SMERSH, which deals with traitors and back-sliders.

Bond will soon learn that more is at stake than a casino game, and that he needs a proper reassessment of just how brutal the enemy spies are, and of what lengths spies are willing to go to keep their covers.

Casino Royale is a ground-breaking introduction to the entire Bond series, and is not to be underestimated. Though the casino game was the highlight, the atmosphere was classic Bond – it read like a film – and the characters were dressed as formal with powerful and well-concealed passion.

Journey to the Centre of the Earth is the incredible adventure of young student of mineralogy Axel, being compelled to voyage on a perilous undertaking through an (extinct?) Icelandic volcano. Unable to resist the iron will of Uncle Liedenbrock, Axel believes he faces the prospect of a lunatic crusade.

Professor Otto Liedenbrock: one might say he is the stereotypical mad professor, but in many ways he is one of a kind. To his critical nephew Axel, who suffered his living habits, he is an impatient man, egocentric in his thoughts, and prone to bouts of fury. However, I saw many endearing personality traits in him. An eminent scientific savant certainly, who is eccentric, bold, and has wit. I respected the Professor’s drive to achieve great things, for recognition and personal accomplishment. I also pitied the fact that his insular life and single-minded focus, courage, and determination made him blind to Axel’s feelings. To feel fulfilled in life, intellectual challenges and forcing himself to undergo expeditions of discovery, were aspects not touched upon in the novel, but which made me empathise with him.

At 20 per cent through the novel, Axel’s desperate attempts to thwart his Uncle’s surging enthusiasm and ambition, as well as his critical view of him, made for hilarious reading. I could just visualise the Professor racing like a bull down staircases and through doors, on to tackle the next challenge. In many passages, it highlighted how imperfect the Professor was, because he forgot things like what he has cooking. And though the Professor spent hours studying a Runic manuscript, Axel discovered the secret quite by accident. Sometimes I felt Axel was too critical, when he has to point out his Uncle’s flaws and imperfections to us so that we may see the Professor as human or acceptable. I’m not sure whether to blame the author for this.

From 20 to 45 per cent much description does burden the reader’s enjoyment. I urge the reader to persist, for after 45 per cent, the adventure really gets going, and the description puts the environment into perspective with a knowledgeable and scientific setting. Sometimes the science was a bit too much for the unacquainted reader, perhaps also because many of the terms would be academic to a Victorian scientist, but the dictionary helped with the basics. On a more accurate scale I would have rated this novel 9/10.

The personalities were powerfully constructed, and I felt I got to know them almost instinctively, even if they both did manage to surprise me numerous times during the course of the novel. Mostly, this was an effortless and rewarding read, filled with humour, colour, imagination, and wonder! The discoveries were stimulating, and reached beyond the scientific to deliver a panoramic timeless experience.

*Reviewed by Alex James*

The 2nd James Bond novel in the renowned spy series, Live and Let Die is set in New York’s Harlem and the shark-infested seas of the West Indies. Bond must investigate a voodoo cult organised by soviet SMERSH operative Mr. Big; a man whose soviet training, freakish size, and manipulation skills make him the first “villain”; and a worthy adversary for what can be seen as Bond’s first real mission. To confront SMERSH has been a long-awaited opportunity for him.

Bond has whisked away clairvoyant card-reader Solitaire, an attractive and talented woman who Mr. Big sees as his personal property. Solitaire is a damsel in distress, and her knowledge of Mr. Big’s crime machine puts them both in danger and forces Bond to accept that there is more to Mr Big’s control. The most exciting and compelling scenes were when Bond and Solitaire were on the train, with fearful anticipation for Mr. Big’s assassins to get at them.

The detail behind Mr. Big’s operations makes for intriguing background reading, with fear, superstition, secret communication, and black magic curses. Though he is resolute and is no stranger to pain, there were a few moments where Bond was fooled and frustrated. I liked this, for it kept consistent with prequel Casino Royale, where he had yet to be properly tested. I liked that there were more action scenes against enemies, which were often imaginative and sometimes ended in dark humour.

Criticism is that even though we’re introduced to an impressive villain, Live and Let Die develops through Bond’s inability to predict Mr. Big’s next moves. From there, I was fast-tracked to the opening of Bond’s final solo mission (which was actually his original mission before he decided to scope Mr. Big’s operations). The final solo mission was lengthy, with some parts over-descriptive, and a lot of back-and-forth preparation between Bond and his contacts in Jamaica. The descriptive writing style did well to cover scenes of underwater peril, yet it made the lead up to the conclusion tiresome. I would have liked to see more of a struggle between Bond and Mr. Big, and to perhaps link Solitaire’s talents into the action. In the end, Bond’s preparation and calculation, rather than sharp instincts or observation or heroics, saved the day.

Live and Let Die is a fast-paced intriguing novel that sees Bond challenging enemies directly. The setting and the scale of the voodoo cult was terrifying and adrenalin-filled. The locations were rich with detail, and the reader sees the first of the ingenious Bond villian. Though terminology and items are out-of-date, it’s difficult not to feel nostalgic for Bond’s personal tastes and global adventures.

My third HG Well’s novel read and I’ve started to notice that he often has a main character on the run from something: mustering violence to protect against innumerable or unfathomable enemies, facing starvation through the quaint English countryside, and then having to make use of reason to to make sense of the extremely improbable. Humorously, most of the sub-characters aren’t on the run as such, but are so highly panicked and foolish that it makes the heroic main characters look calm and collected by comparison. The sub-characters engage in gossip, wild speculation, and this drives their collective fury to such a level as to make all hell break loose on the roads. It doesn’t require a close examination to deduce that when reading HG Well’s novels, we are reading about a fragile society that is faced with what to them is an impossible occurrence: an invisible man!

Did this make me sympathise with the glut of people? Not really, for their (at first) baseless rumours convinced me that they did not need an invisible man to “appear” to startle them and provoke them into collective insanity. When the invisible man is “revealed” to them, the level of panic and outrage is turned up a notch, perhaps understandably, but it was difficult for most to see reason or think how there could be an invisible man; most were not enquiring minds. Kemp, introduced quite late in the novel, has an enquiring mind and scientific background. An educated man, if you will. Kemp sees those running away from an “invisible man” down the hill outside his window as classic fools, in the absence of evidence.

As for the invisible man himself, during the early few chapters I sympathised with him greatly, wrapped up as he was in bandages to conceal his affliction. He only wanted privacy from questions, but his odd garments and need to seclude himself naturally led to idle gossip and then break in’s and direct questions. It was easy to forgive the invisible man’s cruelty at this stage. The reader soon sees how infuriating it really is to be invisible in the 19th century: good for the element of surprise and disappearing but not ideal for survival in human towns and villages.

The Invisible Man is an intriguing tale, wound well with originality stemming from its main concept. Everywhere he went, he caused trouble and alarm. Though there was a touch too much background into how the invisible man arrived where he did, we got to learn how he made himself invisible and of his tribulations before the commencement of the novel. It was as much about how flawed Griffin (the invisible man) was; how his strengths made him a terror and how his weaknesses escalated the hunt against him; as about the novelty of being invisible. This is a stunning novel, with writing that flows so well it seems to swim pleasantly in the mind. Highly recommended!

‘True, privacy was rare in her world, her duties closing in on her youth and what little freedom she had left.’

‘It always felt as though the light would burn her. Some days she wished it would or that her powers would simply envelop her in flame. She revelled in the idea of being allowed to simply melt away, therefore escaping this miserable life.’

Princess Violetta of the Flame Realm has come of age, and men of status have begun to notice her. There’s Xyhoni, the family friend, and there’s the charming Prince Ryore of the Winter Realm, son of Emperor Jugan. When tragedy strikes and Violetta’s brother and mother are killed, she remains close to her father King Eagan, and is suspicious of the Winter Realm. What makes matters more difficult is that even though she can’t quite forget about Xyhoni, she is growing more attracted to Prince Ryore. And Prince Ryore believes he has found his one true love at last…

Author Daccari Buchelli writes with a mastery of language embellishment that is befitting of the authentic fantasy setting and experience. Sentences are elegant, unobtrusive, and constructed with a fine touch. The author has a grasp for the characters’ feelings that make them passionate and interesting. These feelings give rise to wants and motives, and combine with mystical objects to create a fantasy goal. I became immersed in learning about the thoughts of Ryore and Violetta. Chapter after chapter they became more interesting and realistic, and the fantasy world blossomed about them with colour, duty, and romance.

Criticism: honestly, the first three chapters didn’t pull me into the story. The reason was that I was disoriented and this feeling repeated often; the sense of location and stability in the rapidly changing setting made it difficult to get my bearings. The way the setting was introduced was not even or at the right pace. Even my own writing has been criticised for this reason. A few more sentences to bring forward the atmosphere of the setting when it changed, or a few more scene breaks might have helped to indicate the change of setting.

One of the main characters behaved out of character in Chapter Sixteen, in a way that suspended my belief, which marked a different direction for the narrative. Some paragraphs were double the length I would personally have preferred. A few misspelled words: ‘baited’ and ‘bated’, ‘facet’ and ‘faucet’, and one I wasn’t sure about – ‘intendent’ and ‘attendant’.

Overall, I read the entirety of Phoenix with wild anticipation. The writing was written elegantly and the setting felt like a fantasy world I had actually stepped into. While I was reading about the engrossing characters I didn’t care where the plot was going. I’m not a reader of romance, but the exaggerated displays of affection between two of the main characters impressed me. It was quite easy and enjoyable to digest multiple chapters of Phoenix at a time. I’d strongly recommend Phoenix to all fantasy readers, especially those who like high fantasy, classical fantasy, adventure, and romance.

There is so much more to this book than has been depicted in films and adaptations: much more than a King named Arthur, a Round Table, and a certain Sir Lancelot after Arthur’s wife. The adaptations have been much embellished, but Thomas Malory’s adventures had a nostalgic setting and a feeling of chivalry and honour that cannot be replicated. King Arthur and Camelot are the beginning – a canvas for a series of clashes between heroic knights, to prove themselves to damsels, wed beautiful princesses, and seek favour from the great King Arthur and his court.

King Arthur himself is not noted upon as much as you would expect. After pulling the sword from the stone he becomes a forgiving figurehead and the centre of goodwill among esteemed knights. Jousting clashes between knights; shields, swords, and helms; were combined with knightly quests of valour to confront rogue knights with force and prove to bitter damsels their worth.

Door Into Shadow is a self-discovery for Segnbora, who is a deadly swordswoman without much ‘fire’, sorcery, to defend against the dark monsters and demons of the Shadow. Segnbora’s failure with fire is revisited often when she compares herself with prodigy Herewiss, the only male fire-wielder who can outperform most Rodmistress fire-wielders. Most of the story is about the adventures of her allies, and tales of past lovers and how they relate to Segnbora’s failure. Throughout, she is not seen by the reader as a failure but as a brave sacrificial swordswoman who is the first to jump into the conflict and save her friends.

There were many remarkable scenes throughout – infiltrating the Glass Castle that only appears at a certain time, and confronting evil variations of the Goddess or manifestations of the Shadow. The battle scenes were engrossing, and allowed the story to release its true energy.

There were aspects I really liked about this book. The atmosphere, landscape, and scope of the story were terrific and realistic. Diane Duane had gone to lengths to create varied cultures and an immense fantasy world. The dialogue was good, and she kept the quest going with new challenges. For example, a challenge of note was when Segnbora must join with a dragon and the memory of its ancestors to save the dragon from the terrible fate of death and its associated loss of its race’s ancestral memories. Thereafter the dragon is a part of her; talking to her, aiding her, and giving her a cool dragon shadow.

I did think there was too much lore, and the significance of much of it was lost on me, perhaps because this is the second book in the series and I hadn’t read the first. The story needed more present action and breathing room. The character focus was a bit off too. At the beginning Segnbora’s attention is fixed on exile prince Lorn, but then Lorn becomes almost a sub-character and all the action occurs around Herewiss. Some events, such as the treacherous Cillmod’s deeds, were only mentioned in passing, instead of being shown, which was disappointing because I thought he should have been the main tool of the Shadow. The Shadow’s tools ended up being hordes of developed monsters, and we didn’t learn much about them or understand their significance clearly. Cutting down a touch on the fantastic elements and on the lore of gods and goddess may have helped to see where parts weren’t developed.

The Door Into Shadow had its memorable moments. I may read the first book, if only to see if I can make more sense of the world, but it wasn’t one of my favourite fantasy reads, even if it was well written.

Norman knights have returned from Jerusalem, and now that King Richard is being held captive in Austria – an event that was in no small part helped by his brother Prince John – they are confident that Prince John can rule safely and that the conquered Saxons, yeoman, and Richard’s subjects can be scattered to the winds. Before the Normans returned from Jerusalem, warriors of the Temple, and particularly notorious knight Brian de Bois-Guilbert, aligned themselves with the French and thwarted King Richard’s conquest of Jerusalem. Those Saxon knights loyal to King Richard have yet to return to England to see the state it is in, or so we believe.

Strong and reckless oath-breaker and warrior of the Temple, Brian de Bois-Guilbert, is not one for subtlety, and makes his desire plain for beautiful Saxon ward Rowena as one of a few Norman guests of Cedric the Saxon’s keep in Rotherwood. The heart of the Saxon cause beats strongly in fiery leader Cedric, who detests the plight their Normal conquerers have put them in, never mind King John’s betrayal of his brother Richard and the oppression perpetrated by Norman knights. There is, however, more at stake than the political affairs of England, and of Rowena. In the keep a jousting tournament is discussed, to be held at Ashby de la Zouche to symbolise the ascendancy of Prince John (and so that he can raise his funds) and the Normans over the English Saxons. When the Jewish Isaac of York enters the guest hall and becomes the subject of slights and planned cruelties, one man gives up his seat so he can sit down. This man challenges Brian de Bois-Guilbert’s assertion that King Richard’s knights are second only to the warriors of the Temple: King Richard’s knights are ‘second to none’.

The jousting tournament is competitive. The Norman challengers beat the home team on the field, again and again, and the crowd are losing hope. Then, a mysterious knight appears, determined to fight every single one of the challengers for the defenders’ side. The Saxons and yeoman are emboldened by the knight’s victories and their honour is restored. Shocked Cedric is, when at the end of the joust it is revealed to all that the mysterious knight was none other than his disowned son Sir Ivanhoe, who bestows his favour on Rowena as the Queen of Love and Beauty, throwing a spanner in Cedric’s plans for Rowena to marry a Saxon heir. Prince John struggles to maintain dignity, especially when intrepid yeoman Robin Hood speaks of King Richard as England’s rightful King, and is ordered to prove his archery skills or be wrestled off the field.

I enjoyed Ivanhoe much more than I thought I would. There were unforgettable characters, and clashes in battle. There was that medieval romantic feeling as well, hinted at in a few passages. The reader sees the attraction and longing between Ivanhoe and the daughter of Isaac, Rebecca, and yet they cannot be together because of their different faiths in an intolerant and quarrelsome country. Though Ivanhoe and the Black Sluggard knight were adept in battle and showed valour in joust and siege, I also had a huge admiration for Rebecca’s forthright manner and how she could defend her sex, honour, and faith with a strength that stymied even the immoral/conflicted Brian de Bois-Guilbert whose physical strength and capacity for treachery were great.

The background to the entire story and the competing factions within was fascinating. It was Norman vs Saxon, and in the middle were outlawed yeoman led by Robin Hood and a few knights errant loyal to Richard. Robin Hood’s courage was great to read, and brought excitement and fast pace. The author had a grasp for how each faction would think. The Order of the Temple was originally corrupt before their extreme Grand Master put the Preceptory into order.

On the downside, there were too many references specific to the period in which Ivanhoe was written, in 1819, and though the quaint language wasn’t a barrier to understand most of the story, there were times when it was. After Rebecca is captured, three-quarters through the story, it slows down and is immersed in moralistic arguments. The end was disappointing too, and could be considered deus ex machina. I nearly gave Ivanhoe five stars.

Nevertheless, it is one to keep on your shelf. The excitement, battles, personality contrasts, romanticism, and chivalry made it fantastic.

‘There it must be, I think, in the vast and eternal laws of matter, and not in the daily cares and sins and troubles of men that whatever is more than animal within us must find its solace and its hope.’

First impressions
I wasn’t sure on opening the book what sort of story I was letting myself in for – I didn’t even know what vivisection was and I supposed I imagined some island with strange monsters akin to Planet of the Apes. The fact it was written by HG Wells was enough for me, and there were times as in his other works, when his flair for description really increased the pace of the story and got across the character of things: ‘over the taffrail leaned a silent black figure, staring at the waves …’

What’s the story about?
I thought it was about cruelty, foremost, and I wasn’t sure I agreed with the author: the thought that a human could be ‘vivisected’ is seen as abhorrent in the book, but less tragic if it were an animal, which was a presumption I did not feel I agreed with. There were other instances displaying the superiority of man, with a whip or weapon, next to lowly beasts. Until after the end of the story, when I felt I’d missed the point. Perhaps author HG Wells was challenging these assumptions about the superiority of ‘man’, showing us we’re no less fallible than those creatures we seek to control. What are our primitive instincts when seen from another?

‘That another’ in the story is main character Prendick, who on arriving on the island observes the bizarre creations of notorious Doctor Moreau, often fearing for his life or succumbing to rapid pacing or fitful rages; a characteristic I see as typical of HG Wells’ main characters.

Criticism
Some of the initial descriptions of the monsters and Prendick’s response to them could have been more snappy and impactful. I think the reason was that the general descriptions were meant to provide an air of mystery and the unknown, which the author did elaborate on afterward.

Conclusion
The end was the reason for the entire book, covered in less than four pages, and proved, in case you had any doubt, you were not simply reading wild fascinating adventures on an island with beasts, but a classic story with a powerful end. It contained a quote I found to be meaningful and special: ‘There it must be, I think, in the vast and eternal laws of matter, and not in the daily cares and sins and troubles of men that whatever is more than animal within us must find its solace and its hope.’