This is the third novel in what has become one of the most popular series in contemporary SF, now back in print from Tor. In the 24th century, the Company preserves works of art and extinct forms of life, for profit, of course. It recruits orphans from the past, renders them all but immortal, and trains them to serve the Company, Dr. Zeus. One of these is Mendoza the botanist. The death of her lover has been followed by centuries of heartbreak. She spends a period of time in early twentieth century Hollywood in the days of D.W. Griffith, and then Mendoza is in the midst of the Civil War, and runs into a man that looks disturbingly similar to her lost love. She is about to find love again, and be in more trouble than she could ever have imagined.
Born June 10, 1952, in Hollywood, California, and grew up there and in Pismo Beach, present home. Spent 12 years in assorted navy blue uniforms obtaining a good parochial school education and numerous emotional scars. Rapier wit developed as defense mechanism to deflect rage of larger and more powerful children who took offense at abrasive, condescending and arrogant personality in a sickly eight-year-old. Family: 2 parents, 6 siblings, 4 nieces, 2 nephews. Husbands: 0. Children: 0.
Prior occupations: graphic artist and mural painter, several lower clerical positions which could in no way be construed as a career, and (over a period of years for the Living History Centre) playwright, bit player, director, teacher of Elizabethan English for the stage, stage manager and educational program assistant coordinator. Presently reengaged in the above-listed capacities for the LHC's triumphant reincarnation, AS YOU LIKE IT PRODUCTIONS.
20 years of total immersion research in Elizabethan as well as other historical periods has paid off handsomely in a working knowledge of period speech and details.
In spare time (ha) reads: any old sea stories by Marryat, the Aubrey-Maturin novels by Patrick O'Brien, the Hornblower books, ANYTHING by Robert Louis Stevenson, Raymond Chandler, Thorne Smith, Herman Melville (except Pierre, or the Ambiguities, which stinks) Somerset Maugham, George MacDonald Frasier.
Now happily settled in beautiful Pismo Beach, Clam Capital of the World, in charming seaside flat which is unfortunately not haunted by ghost of dashing sea captain. Avid gardener, birdwatcher, spinster aunt and Jethro Tull fan.
hello there, little memento mori. i see you! you are trying to hide, aren't you? your sepulchral contemplation is well-disguised. who would think to look into a Western of all things to find you? to be specific: a western in dusty, blazingly hot Old California, a stage set with horses and stagecoaches, drunken and lovelorn cowboy trash, a vengeful teen, a traveling salesman with all sorts of oddments to sell, a vivacious yet coldblooded whore, an eccentric young cowpoke who loves birds, the American Civil War looming in the background, intrigue from those dastardly Englishmen in the foreground. who cares that several of those characters are actually immortal cyborgs? it's a Western! a rather elegiac one, with thoughtful characters less over the top than those descriptions may sound. Kage Baker gamely plays along, stuffing her story with the appropriate western ephemera, as well as legends of a Hollywood to come and a screening of certain timeless classics - delivered from the future! her amiable approach, with prose lacking bustle and fuss and a narrative that appears fairly straightforward, made it a bit hard to recognize you.
but you are there nonetheless, little memento mori. a western is actually a fitting locale for you - the genre is obsessed with death and the passing of people, things, and ways. you are a fine memento mori, there's no need to hide! our protagonist lost her one true love in a prior novel and spends all of this one mourning him, brooding over him, fantasizing about him and all that he meant to her - that is, when she's not moodily contemplating the pathos of the human life, destined to live and die in a handful of years, so much dust in the wind. 'tis an apposite topic for an immortal cyborg to ponder. mortals are born to die.
If ever you start to think that immortality sounds like a great idea, read this book first before committing yourself to anything. I personally hope that I don't see my 90th birthday, and not just because I anticipate that my body will have given up by then. I fervently hope I don't outlive my interest in life. Baker's immortal Company employees don't have the physical or mental deterioration to worry about, but there are still psychological issues to be dealt with. Mendoza has had a particularly rough go of it, falling in love with a mortal who was doomed to die. At the book's beginning, she is apathetic and misanthropic.
This is the side of things never broached in all the paranormal romances. True immortals have to learn to disengage their emotions, rather than bond with temporary beings. Baker finds an interesting way to reinvigorate Mendoza's will to live and love. It was reminiscent of She: A History of Adventure by H. Rider Haggard, where Ayesha, another immortal woman, awaits the return of her lover Kallikrates. It's an idea used in a lot of fantasy fiction, the recurring or reincarnating person.
There are more books in the series, so I assume that, despite her situation at book's end, Mendoza continues to feature in the action. The focuses on the mental health of cyborgs and on the recurrence of certain people through history both tend to distract from my questions at the end of book two. What exactly is the Dr Zeus Company up to? They seem to have fooled even their 24th century employees. The final pages of this volume seem to suggest a detailed, complicated plan of action, but we don't know who the mastermind is. (It also made me think of Tim Powers' The Anubis Gates, where a man writes out poetry from memory and finds out later that he must have been the historical poet, leaving the circular dilemma of who actually authored the poetry?)
Reading Mendoza in Hollywood was a strange experience. I have very clear memories of checking the book out of my library about a decade ago, mostly because the library copy had a very memorable cover, but I have only the vaguest memories of the book itself. When I hit the final 75%, I actually began to wonder if I failed to finish it, as certain events were a complete blank. Maybe the climax lost its memorability without the previous books, but at the same time, I think certain aspects were far more tolerable when I was context-free.
In Kage Baker’s Company series, in the far future, Dr. Zeus Incorporated manages to discover both time travel and immortality. Unfortunately, the time travel only works towards the past and only allows unrecorded events to be changed. The surgeries and procedures to gain immortality can only be performed upon children, and the result is more cyborg than human. Dr Zeus, deciding to make the best of things, combined the two: the Company created immortal cyborgs in the far-distant past. These cyborgs would do the work of the Company, preserving lost treasures and species and historical events, and making more of themselves as the ages roll by. And now it’s the mid-1850s, and Mendoza finds herself in the city of fallen angels, the Hollywood of soon-to-be.
Baker is an engaging writer, but like The Garden of Iden, I found the enjoyability of the book severely limited by my dislike of Mendoza. In Garden of Iden, Mendoza suffered from a bad case of puppy love, and apparently not even a few centuries are enough to mend her broken heart. She spends a great deal of time maundering on about her lost love, leading me to ponder whether the book is actually improved by no context. I originally read Mendoza in Hollywood out of order, so I had no idea just how noxious and stiff and irritating and cardboard-cutout Mendoza’s lost love actually was. He annoyed the hell out of me in Garden of Iden, and it’s frustrating that Mendoza seems determined to turn him into her eternal doomed lover. She’s also a slave to those emotions, willing to bend every principle to recover her love.
I liked most of the male characters, particularly the Facilitator. I love Facilitators--they’re all fast-talking tricksters and add a certain spice to the story. I also enjoyed the young ornithologist immortal who spent the whole book collecting stray birds to keep as pets. (He starts out with a baby condor named Erich von Stronheim and ends up with a pelican named Marie Dressler. The only other female character is Imarte from Sky Coyote, and she’s been flanderized from an earnest anthropologist to an oversexed prostitute. She and Mendoza spend the whole time sniping at one another, and despite the female narrator, I think the book fails the Bechdel test. Given that the book takes place in Hollywood, its focus on movies is perhaps unsurprising, but my ignorance about early films made the long digressions into various movies rather boring. The book itself is rather slow, with a meandering and ill-defined plot and a lot of introspection. The themes are similar to the previous books: a rejection of extremism in all its forms. At the same time, I was fascinated by the ways Baker wove together her “hidden history;” the painstaking details reminded me somewhat of Tim Powers. Mendoza in Hollywood certainly isn’t the strongest in the series, but I found myself carried along with Mendoza and her troubles. The framing of the story and the end also pack a certain punch. Onwards to Graveyard Game, which has the added delight of Joseph as a narrator.
On top of all the other stuff I enjoyed so much in the first two Company books, this one is chock full of classic Hollywood. Yum.
***
January 16, 2015
Well, there are at least two named characters who are women, but they spent most of their time together sniping at one another, rather than actually talking to each other, so we may not pass the Bechdel test here, either. On the other hand, there's quite a bit of history on California, with plenty of info on the native fauna and flora. I'm not keen on Westerns in general, but I like the way the time and place are handled, and all the side stuff about the Civil War. And the importance of having satisfying work, because relationships are impermanent. Especially for immortals. I do wish we'd gotten to know more about the young scientist with the birds, he fascinated me.
There's something interesting about reading a book that's the third in a series of which you've read later installments. I've read two of the books that come after Mendoza in Hollywood, so I knew where this book was going. However, I had no idea how it was going to get there. Baker managed to keep me guessing even though I knew what was going to happen. Her story telling abilities are terrific. I even noticed a bit of foreshadowing of later novels. Mendoza in Hollywood is by far the best of the first three books in The Company series.
The front-flap summary of Mendoza in Hollywood promises that Mendoza runs into a man who seems to be identical to Nicholas, her doomed lover from In the Garden of Iden. However, this doesn't really happen until the last quarter of the book, at which point the action really takes off and almost seems like a different book. I feel like it suffers the same flaws that Sky Coyote did: there are tantalizing hints about The Company's secret truths, but they're not given much attention amid all of the slow, day-to-day events of the cyborgs who collect birds and plants and local stories. And just like Sky Coyote's questionable 20 page description of a play, Mendoza in Hollywood spends 20 pages explicitly describing DW Griffith's silent movie Intolerance.
I still had fun, mind you, and I'm still checking the clock to see if I can make it to the library tonight to pick up the next book in the series, but so far only the first book in the series has felt like a perfect book.
There are two wolves inside this book. The first one says, “Oh hey I think it would be REALLY COOL to go back in time and also I have done SO MUCH RESEARCH about the history of Southern California. Want to see some of the cool stuff I know? Want to go wallow in it in a fictional way?” The second one says, “Hey, remember the immortal lady and her disasterous relationships with various extremely identical mortals throughout space and time? Let’s do another lap through that situation.” I am way more interested in the first book than the second, so I’m pretty lucky that this book’s intended plot, the whole immortal/mortal heterosexual disaster tango, doesn’t actually start until 2/3 of the way through this.
I really enjoyed this, especially the first part. I liked the history of the very place where I reside! I enjoyed the characters and the specific issues faced by immortals! I admire how Baker managed to keep this rooted in a single time AND tell us cool history facts from throughout time!
So this would definitely be a four-star book for me, except for two things. The first is — okay, it’s really noticeable that there is exactly one immortal woman who isn’t Mendoza in this, and she and Mendoza spend the entire book being nasty to each other for reasons that are never made clear. They just — don’t like each other? Because Mendoza is friends with Joseph and Imarte is mad at Joseph? Maybe? I don’t know. But it does sort of come off, especially given Imarte’s chosen profession of sex worker in this book, like Mendoza is A Cool Girl Who Is Not Like The Other (Immortal) Girls and also Girls Just Hate Each Other. I am deeply tired of both of these tropes, so this wore on me.
The other thing that knocks this down a star is — okay, question for you. Is it a good idea to do a nearly scene-by-scene plot synopsis of a silent movie in the middle of your book? Just like take 25 pages right in the middle of everything and really delve into this movie that only tangentially relates to the book, the setting, and the plot? Except, wait, I know the answer to this one: NO, IT IS NOT. It is a bad idea, and I don’t entirely know why an editor didn’t put at least 50% of that scene out of our misery.
But I’m still enjoying this series, and I like, I think, how it’s developing. For the next book, I am hoping for more female characters, ideally ones not in direct opposition to Mendoza, and also ZERO MOVIE DESCRIPTIONS. Fingers crossed!
I really wish there were people in the future that could go into the past to save animals, plants, significant items, dying children, like the author writes in these books. Wouldn't it be wonderful if something really didn't become extinct?
This story is really good. The ending was exciting and sad at the same time. I can't wait to see what happens with Mendoza.
I'm rereading this series as part of a readalong on Tor.com. I tried to pace myself and read at the same rate as the discussion, but in the end I just couldn't do it. I kept reading ahead and eventually carried right along and finished the book. However, I've promised myself that even if I race through each book, I'll wait for the readalong to catch up before going on to the next one. So I'll be starting The Graveyard Game when we get to it.
I'm really enjoying the discussion and all the comments and references Stefan provides. As I've said many times before, I have a terrible memory and there's so much detail in this series (which gets more and more convoluted as it goes on) that I don't remember. So it's great to see what Stefan and the other readers have to offer.
ORIGINAL READ: 12 June 2007 - 12 June 2007
Mendoza in Hollywood - Kage Baker (9/10) And the good just keeps on going. I find it fascinating that Baker has set up this series with Mendoza as the pivot of the books and yet she isn't always the main character in a novel. She is in this one however, as we see her dealing with humanity again after centuries of blessed peace and solitude in the wilderness. Her life goes to hell in a handbasket from here as things get more complicated, more fascinating and more conspiracies rear their heads. Baker has a way of writing that makes all these things flow instead of backing up in one's brain and I'm left with a feeling of great satisfaction (and anticipation for the next volume) at the end of each book.
OK, I loved The Garden of Iden, didn't think much of the sequel, and found this entertaining but weird. The plot is meandering til the last section, when it takes off in an unexpected direction. I liked Juan Batista and his birds, but that plot was tied up early. Porforio's dilemma was interesting and also done away with. Other threads introduced in this book were also shunted to the side as if they never mattered: Mendoza's dreams and their byproduct, a brief trip to the future. I have no idea why there was a lengthy central set-piece that read like The Company does MST3K, only less funny. That leaves us with Mendoza. I thought she was great in the first book: a young cyborg from the future dealing with her first field assignment and her first love. Now that she's got some experience under her belt, she comes across as a mopey misanthropic downer. An immortal version of Twilight's Bella Swan (I have not read Twilight but feel that I know enough about the character to make that comparison), mooning through the centuries. I'm still very curious where this series goes, but that was two books in a row that let me down.
One of the weaker Company novels in the series so far. Mendoza, who makes a return as the narrator of this installment, is not terribly likable as a character. Her thoughts seem limited to one of three things: plants, hatred of mortals, or her lost English lover from centuries past. Yawn.
Baker is obviously infatuated with the pre-glamour version of Hollywood in which she's set the book, but she failed to draw me into the setting. Much like the Civil War raging to the east, the book's action and characters seems distant, remote, and rather unpleasant overall.
Normally I love Baker's writing, but this novel felt like a chore to read (especially the excruciatingly detailed rundown of Griffith's "Intolerance"). If this hadn't been a part of a series, I probably would've let this one moulder on my bookshelf, half-read.
I was afraid that, due to the title, this was going to talk overmuch about movies (books that get all meta- about film and media really annoy me - it's a personal thing). But the 'Hollywood' in this case is a good deal before the time of the silver screen - the botanist Mendoza has been assigned to this stretch of country in 1862, studying the native flora and saving anything that might be valuable to her bosses in the future. Still traumatized by the martyrdom of her human lover Nicholas, she is at first bemused and then, willy-nilly, head over heels when she meets a British spy who looks exactly like her lost love.
Full of quirky, unique characters and humor and well as poignancy.
She thinks: Interesting Old West setting. The book drags a bit in the middle, and I could have done without the 20-page film-critic dissertation on "Intolerance" (come on, Ms. Baker, now you're just showing off), but several intriguing elements are introduced and the climax really kicks the series into high gear.
Though I really love Kage Baker's Company series, I can't recommend this, the third in the series. I read the series as it came out years ago, and decided to re-read it now. I remember not liking this one the first time, too. Baker really made some boneheaded decisions in this book. The first 3/4 of the book has no plot to speak of--it's just four operatives hanging out in rustic 1862 Hollywood, or rather, where Hollywood will be one day. Much of the book consists of these four immortals cyborgs walking around, pointing out where things *will be* someday, and that's kind of a problem for this novel: there's nothing there now. So why are we even here? Sure, as immortal operatives, you're going to have lots of dull downtime between the exciting events of history. But wait, wasn't there something exciting happening in 1862? Oh, right, the Civil War. Well, the war is here, sort of. There's a plot that finally makes an appearance 200 pages in, involving a little-known attempt by England to take over California, and it's sort of related to the War Between the States. This is mostly infodumped on us, though, and is not very interesting. After all, as narrator Mendoza tells us, we KNOW nothing comes of it, since we know the future. So there's nothing to hold our interest, then, is there?
There's a short episode where Mendoza and an operative wander into Laurel Canyon, which is buzzing with Crome radiation (which seems to explain why Californians are all into New Age and crystals, I think), and it zaps the two of them into 1996. But wait, you said we can't go into our own futures. We'll just forget that happened, then, shall we?
Baker makes an attempt to generate some interest by bringing back Mendoza's boyfriend from book one. Yes, he *did* die by burning at the stake, and yes, he *was* mortal. So how is he back? This, I'm sad to say, is the weakest, most unbelievable part of the book--even harder to believe than the fact that Mendoza is still in deep mourning for a man who died three hundred years earlier. (Really? Boy, eternity is going to be rough if you can't deal with loss better. In fact, one character (Porfirio) points this out to a young 18-year-old newly-mortal.) I suppose we're supposed to be sappy enough or emotionally immature enough to accept this about Mendoza, but I wasn't buying it. And I certainly didn't buy the explanation for her lover's reappearance. It happens like this:
In a paragraph or two, the other operatives are all whisked away, and the minute (literally) Mendoza is home alone for the first time, her former lover's doppelganger shows up. She immediately hops in bed with him, because, you know, love. He's identical in every way, and she (Baker, that is) explains it's due to a limited gene pool in England (it's an island, you know) and coincidence. I am not kidding.
The early part of the book also contains 20-page narrative descriptions of silent films, which I just skipped right over. Okay, you live in California, you find everything about it fascinating, so naturally your readers will, too, right? Wrong. Just ask Connie Willis: not everyone is in love with your obsession, whether it's the Blitz or the nascent film industry.
I highly recommend the Company books, but please--PLEASE--do not start here. In fact, just pass this one by. The only Company-related news that's added in this book is so minor, it's not worth suffering through the rest of the book. Moving on now to "The Graveyard Game," featuring Joseph and Lewis (yay!).
You know how people say that we repeat the same patterns and relationships with people over and over and over as a way to work out issues or find closure with the next person if the previous one could not provide it? Well, this happens to Mendoza in the third book of the Company series. Literally.
*IF YOU ARE NOT INTO SPOILERS, STOP READING HERE*
Three hundred years after Mendoza watched her mortal lover burn at the stake in 1500s England, she finds herself working in California, near Los Diablos/Los Angeles, and adjusting to life in the New World. The Spanish Inquisition is behind her, but Nicholas's presence and tragic death still haunt her dreams.
Lucky for her, she doesn't have to dream about him much longer. Her long-lost lover is back, this time as an English assassin named Edward. After she convinces herself that this is just another English dude who looks like her Nicholas, she begins to realize that perhaps this is Nicholas, who has come back for her. They do the same dance, she again keeps the truth about who and what she is from him, and he again develops his suspicions.
"Whoever you are," he said, "whoever you've been, if we get out of this with our lives, I will marry you. See if you can keep the truth from me then!"
They fall in love all over again, but this time Mendoza is determined to change their fate. They flee -justice and her assignment-, but will the result be different this time? And, just exactly how long have they been in this dance? Perhaps since the beginning of time, perhaps she never saw the pattern until she became an immortal, unable to die or forget.
The only criticism I have about this book is that it took maybe too long to get to Edward. There are also some skippable parts around the middle. Did we really need a detailed twenty-page description of a movie she and her coworkers were watching? I thought not. However, the book is really good and it rewards the reader hugely for sticking with it. I also found the history and description of California around the time of the Civil War very interesting. Once it got to Mr. Bell-Fairfax's appearance, though, the book became unputdownable. This book, like the first book in the series, kept me up until 6 a.m. just because I wanted to see where it would go!
This third book in The Company series places our immortal botanist Mendoza in southern California in 1862, where a fellow operative gleefully points out to her the future sites of the Hollywood sign and Harrison Ford's house. Mendoza's narrative is as melancholy as ever, but the book is very funny in places. I find that I don't care much about the plot or the machinations of the mysterious Company, but I like watching the immortal characters find satisfaction in their work, and try to disregard the fact that it's all they have to live for.
We have the sensitive ornithologist who's supposed to be collecting rare specimens but is spending all his time taking care of the wounded birds he's adopted. There are two anthropologists, one in the guise of a whore, recording the life stories she charms out of her johns; the other working as a traveling salesman who's determined to convince some poor frontier housewife she needs a pie safe. Another operative hosts old Hollywood film festivals when he's not out rounding up bears and Longhorn cattle. And the security operative worries about taking care of the descendants of his mortal family.
I really enjoyed the first 3/4 of the book, but then it suddenly fell apart. I knew from reading the blurb that Mendoza was going to be confronted with the doppelgänger of her long lost beloved Englishman, but I thought there would be some explanation for it other than sheer coincidence. There were hints that he was extraordinary in some way, but the whole thing was still very unsatisfying. From the moment he appears the story becomes annoying and implausible, and I think the author destroyed some of the precepts of her universe, because there is some pretty casual time traveling in this book - like that strange little jaunt where Mendoza and Einer get thrown into their own future, which is supposed to be impossible.
I was glad to see that this book took place in mid 19th century Hollywood. I had been fearful after the end of the last book, that this one would take place in contemporary California. One of the things I really enjoy about this series so far is the historical fiction aspect.
This book was similar to the last book, in that I learned about a culture and a time with which I was not familiar. I loved that. And it was similar to both previous books, in that it followed a Company mission. However, the last third of the book deviated a bit.
The last third of the book followed Mendoza doing almost EXACTLY what she did at the end of the first book. She found either a doppleganger, a clone, or a reincarnation of Nicholas. This frustrated me for a couple of reasons. However, I will admit that for Mendoza it was completely believable behavior because she totally didn't deal with her grief and she obviously was not over him. I was frustrated that this version of Nicholas...was almost exactly Nicholas: same sense of humor, same mannerisms, etc. I could believe that someone who looked like him might show up in her life, but someone almost EXACTLY like him. That means, it's not a clone and it's not a doppleganger...it almost has to be reincarnation. Now, I suppose this is science fiction and that gives the author a lot of leeway, but personally I didn't want it to go there. I could have handled a clone better. And perhaps it WAS a clone and Mendoza is just completely obsessively bonkers. Only further books may shed light on this. So we shall see.
Otherwise, it was a really good book. I also enjoyed the little bit of information she gleaned on the genesis of the Company.
The third book in the series. Here we go again, looking at things from Mendoza's perspective. This is nearly as difficult to read as the first book. The only difference is that's she stopped with her teenage woes and is now moaning about her lost love. She probably spends 75% of her internal dialog talking about how she hates humans and misses her boyfriend from the first book. If I wasn't so into history and fascinated by the facts in the book I would have put it down long ago. It took till the last quarter of the book before it got exciting. Finally we have some sort of plot point worth reading towards. As with her previous books Baker gets caught up in some sort of personal need to go off on a philosophical tangent. There are at least two chapters dedicated to full frontal philosophy that has no bearing on the story (skip anything about them watching movies). Speaking of no bearing, the extra characters seem to be their only so that the story can have more dialog. They too have no bearing on the plot of this book, but act more like painting that look interesting. Perhaps I should give this a lower rating but the end saved it.
I continue to like the world built by the author in her The Company series, and want to see where things go, and what the big secret is in the distant future. However, this third entry in the series just didn’t work for me. I came close to putting it down for good at numerous points and ended up skimming a lot of the book. This was just a slog. A main problem with the entire series is that I don’t like either of the two main narrators and find most of the other characters unlikeable. In this book we get Mendoza as narrator.
There’s a minimal plot for at least the first 70% of the book. Instead, we get the immortals collecting plants, collecting birds, pointing out where things will be in the future in Hollywood, and watching movies.
The “Hollywood” part of this book is set in the 1860s well before the Hollywood we know began. However, the group of immortals on assignment in Hollywood spend a lot of time talking about what Hollywood will be like, and endlessly watch, and discuss, classic movies (for pages and pages in some cases). I found myself skimming through these “film festival” portions of the book, which meant I skimmed a lot! I also put the book down a lot as it was just boring.
A major plot finally kicks in at about the 70% point, but by then it was far too late for me. I will definitely pick up the next in the series at some point, but for now am going to take a break from The Company. Overall I would give this a D+ so two stars here.
My initial reaction to the view from the City of Angels or rather, Los Diablo’s, goes along with what some of my friends here in Goodrads have written. However, I looked ahead at the card catalog descriptions, and discovered we are indeed being set up. Given this new insight, and recognizing the misdirection being directed to the readers and listeners to The Company series, I have changed my rating from *** to ****. I wil l hod reviews until at least Book 6 or 7.
Curious? Perhaps after the first of year, I might set up a discussion group hhere in Goodreads or, via our website, both, or more broadly and integrated. Stand by. ;)
8/10 So heartbreakingly bittersweet. A well-told tale, with the last section dumping a bit too much on the reader in terms of hints of things as yet unrevealed.
And do we know at this point what a Chrome generator is?
I think this series is going to be more complicated than it first appeared it be.
Probably done with Kage Baker books for a while. beginning of the series i loved the idea of an immortal race preserving history. and i loved how she explained “hollywood” before it became hollywood but other than that the book had very little going on and for about 80% of the book nothing was going on. so yeah a break from Kage Baker for now
I wish baker wouldn't lean into the whole doomed romance between immortal and human shtick, but since she's clearly dead set on it, I at least appreciate that she's making it weird and fucked up
This third novel in the Company series reverts to Mendoza's first-person narration, and the transition did not go entirely smoothly. Mendoza is still far more self-centered than Joseph, and that comes through her narration. We saw in Sky Coyote that Joseph wants her that way because he fears for her safety, but after being in the head of a character who is constantly paying attention to those around him and to events at large it's frustrating to come crashing back to Mendoza bitterness, self-pity, and deliberately narrow focus.
That shift in perspective made the first third of the book relatively rough going for me. Baker's writing style is still a trifle obvious, and there were no perfect moments as there were in Sky Coyote to make up for the downsides. So I spent my time instead wondering at the gender roles that are shaping up in the series and being a little put off. Of the two first-person narrators, obviously Joseph is the more well-rounded, adult character; but if you're going to have a male narrator and a female narrator in a parent-child relationship, obviously one of them has to be more adult and it might not mean anything that Baker chose the male to be the parent. But unfortunately (for me at least), those same character traits are given to another pair of male and female characters in this novel: Porifirio is the sort of operative who deals with being an immortal by watching out for the other immortals in his care and is justifiably wary of the Company while Imarte has retreated from the trauma of living an immortal life among mortals into a ferociously narrow focus on her work.
However, just as I was beginning to be really annoyed by Baker's female characters, the action picked up a bit and I was reminded of what was so enthralling about Mendoza's narrative in In the Garden of Iden. The few things that Mendoza lets herself care about she cares about passionately, and that gives her narrative more tension than Joseph's ever had in Sky Coyote, because whether it's the wild beauty of unsettled California or her beloved soulmate, both we the readers and Mendoza herself know that she is destined for heartbreak. It took much longer than I expected for Mendoza's Englishman to appear on the scene, but once he did I raced to the conclusion breathlessly, and once the book was finished I wanted to immediately pick up the next one.
There is just one other thing that bothers me about this installment of the novels of the Company: I'm now three books in and the damned story hasn't started yet! This is why I tend to avoid long series' like the plague. . . delightful though these three books have been, there is still the sense that they are merely the opening act of some great epic, and I am getting rather impatient to get to that epic. Luckily for me, I do believe the action commences in the next book; even luckier I think it returns to Joseph's narration. Needless to say, I will be picking it up as soon as possible.
I finished reading Mendoza in Hollywood this afternoon while eating lunch. What a delightful book. I usually expect some diminishing of my interest as a series progresses. Not yet so with Baker’s “The Company” series. I thoroughly enjoyed this, the third book in the series; it’s probably my favorite book in the series so far.
In Mendoza in Hollywood, we switch back to Mendoza as the main character. She is as about an unappealing and yet totally believable (as long as you’re willing to accept the whole time travel, immortality, cyborg thing) main character as I can imagine. For all her copious faults, I found myself interested and even identifying with her.
As the novel open we find her in California in 1863, a little over 150 years after Sky Coyote. She is apparently in serious trouble with her bosses because she, in her words, “killed six – no seven – mortal men” and even worse “stole Company property” when she deserted her post.
As the novel progresses we meet more of her immortal co-workers and (perhaps) learn more about the mysterious Company. Unlike the previous two books in the series, Mendoza in Hollywood doesn’t quite feel like a complete novel; it feels like the first part of a strongly connected story arc.
It been over a year since a finished reading Sky Coyote; I don’t think I’ll wait that long before picking up The Graveyard Game.
Quite entertaining—BUT. About 3/4 of the book is Mendoza and her more-than-a-little-crazy Company associates, dumped on the outskirts of what will one day become LA but is currently mostly unspoiled Southern California. They go on about their various businesses, documenting mid-19th-c. life in this corner of the Wild West and saving soon-to-be-extinct species. They squabble, they joke, they watch classics of the silver screen from the mind-boggling perspectives of their own early mortal lives plus their 24th-c. educations, sitting in the desert that will one day be the soundstages upon which D. W. Griffith will film his greatest spectacles. They watch the youngest of them re-enact the existential tragedy of their own lives… except with a young condor that insists on riding on his head, and a psychotic bald eagle named John Barrymore.
And then suddenly everyone except Mendoza is rudely bustled offstage, and we are in a completely different book. Mendoza's martyred 16th-c. lover reappears! Except it's not really him! But it is! And there's this zany plot involving the British and Catalina Island! And then it's all over with but the shooting (and a bit of shouting on the Company's part)!
And… WTH?
I would have given this two stars, frankly, except that Baker writes so charmingly, so amusingly, and so perceptively from the POV of her Company operatives. I loved the majority of the book, in which they're all interacting with this new/old world that will become Hollywood. But while the bit with Edward Alton Bell-Fairfax is obviously important to Mendoza, it left me cold and cranky.
This is not your typical narrative. One of the longer, and more gripping, chapters is a long description of D. W. Griffin's movie "Intolerance."
Back to the main plot. While Mendoza is in Hollywood and has seen thousands of films, the year is 1863, so she is living in a desolate canyon. She gets tours of future studio lots from Einar, a film-buff Viking. A botanist living in a drought and suffering from a broken heart, she connects with her fellow immortals living in an inn on the stagecoach route until a face from her past undoes all her hard work.
This book leaves fans with even more questions, rather than answering them. What is a chrome generator? What is up with Nicholas? Why the heck does Mendoza go for the worst guys? Why can't she remember her name? What is the connection between Dr. Zeus and the British? The book slowly ratchets up the suspense. Personally, I wish Kage Baker would get to the action more quickly. In the meantime, however, there are three great new characters--Porfirio, Oscar, and the heart-breaking Juan Bautista.
Third book in the Company series; this book follows Mendoza, who is possibly the most worthless excuse for a protagonist I've ever encountered. Mendoza alternates between feeling sorry for herself, feeling bitter at everyone else, and mourning for her abusive ex-boyfriend who committed suicide two hundred years prior.
I love and hate these books. The series as a whole has a story that I want to read. The main text of these stories is primarily (almost entirely) found in the first and last chapters of each book, with the 300 or so pages in between representing detailed footnotes. Mind you, said footnotes provide unique perspective on the thoughts and view points of immortal government lackeys and how they would fill boring down time in various eras, between their equally boring assignments (unlike the assignments they allude to having done in the past, which sound vivacious). Still, I'm in love with the premise and unwilling to give up some sort of conclusion (there had better be) at the end of it all.
Another good read from Kage Baker's Novels of the Company series. I'm still not sure what to make of them. They're imaginative with some excellent background information -- this one is set in California during the Civil War -- but the sometimes proceed a rather languid pace, which is not necessarily a bad thing. I wish Good Reads had 1/2 star increments. This book, like the other two I've read, is more than "OK" but I not yet sure that I "Really Liked It." Baker can write the pants off many of his other SF authors.