Category: Fiction

Classic Sci-Fi Book Cover: “The Left Hand of Darkness”

Ursula K. Le Guin was one of our finest science fiction writers, and The Left Hand of Darkness is probably her best book. Not only did it anticipate by half-a-century the seismic cultural shifts that are currently roiling Western society regarding issues of gender-identity and sexual orientation, it’s also just a damned good sci-fi story.

Set in the far future, it takes place on Gethen, a wintery planet with a post-industrial civilization. Genly Ai is an Earth-man who is sent to Gethen on a diplomatic mission, hoping to convince the locals to join the Ekumen (basically, Le Guin’s version of the United Federation of Planets). Genly’s efforts are frustrated by long-standing, internecine conflicts between the Gethenians themselves, and also by his own difficulty in relating to the local people. People on Gethen are, it seems, are androgenous—serially androgenous, actually, existing as one sex for a part of the month and as females for the other. (As Le Guin beautifully describes, they subtly change their outer physiognomy, depending on which gender they are currently occupying, appearing to be “men” some of the time and “women” at others.)

Even now, it’s a pretty far-out concept, but it was totally mind-blowing in 1969 when the novel came out. Trust me, though—it’s a very exciting book. Genly soon finds himself caught between warring nations and is arrested as a potential spy. He is rescued by Estraven, the former prime minister of one of the countries, who helps Genly escape. They set off on a life-and-death adventure, sledding across the frozen wilderness of Gethen and trying to get to safety. In the process, Genly is forced to come to terms with his own deep-rooted conceptions of sexuality, while Estraven faces the prospect of Gethen being just one small planet in a vast, strange galaxy.

Le Guin is often described as a literary science fiction writer, and it’s true. Her prose and descriptive eye were top-notch, and she was able to weave Big Ideas (Feminism, Taoism, etc.) into her fiction without it feeling like a Humanities 101 lecture. The edition I read had this great cover by veteran illustrator Alex Ebel, which might seem a bit cheesy today but was striking and evocative at the time. I love the way it captures one of the major visual motifs of the novel, that of linked-opposites (light and dark, male and female, good and evil, progressive and reactionary). It’s a great, surreal representation of a great novel.

What I’m Watching: “Dune: Part Two”

Well, I finally watched Dune: Part Two (henceforth known as Dune 2) last night. I’m a big fan of the first film (part 1), and I was very eager to see this one (although not eager enough, apparently, to shell-out for theater tickets; oh, well). 

Dune 2 is, obviously, an amazing film, even when viewed on a TV screen. A lot of people have commented on how much the movie reminds them of Lawrence of Arabia, and it’s true. Why not? Frank Herbert was, himself, influenced by Lawrence when he wrote the book. But as I watched Dune 2, I kept thinking of another classic film, The Godfather. They’re practically the same movie, when you think about it. Duke Leto is the Godfather, the noble monarch of a great and honorable kingdom. Arrakis is New York City, full of violence, corruption, and sadistic evil. Paul is Michael, the exiled prince, who is at first reluctant to take up his old man’s role but later succumbs to the circumstances that surround him, and to his own desire for revenge. Chani is Kay. Gurney is Clemenza. And on and on.

I mean this comparison, of course, as a compliment. Dune 2 is an archetypal film, as is The Godfather. And, like The Godfather, it’s got some electrifying scenes of action, woven inside a theme of how good can survive in an evil universe without becoming evil itself. (Dune 2, like The Godfather, leaves the question unresolved.)

I did have some pretty major complaints about the movie, especially in the way it handles time. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the entire story takes place during Lady Jessica’s pregnancy with the unborn Alia. Right? So, unless babies in the Dune universe take a lot longer to gestate, that’s less than nine months—which makes no logical sense. (In the book, it’s more like four years.) Even more problematic, for me, is the film’s unrelenting depictions of sadism. The Harkonnens—the greatest lovers of BDSM fashion in the galaxy—are always stabbing or crushing or slicing somebody up, usually someone helpless and innocent. Yeah, I get it; evil is the major theme of the movie. But I couldn’t help but think that director Denis Villeneuve (who is, I believe, a genius) takes it just a little…bit…too…far. I mean, we get four or maybe five scenes that are essentially remakes of The Empire Strikes Back with Darth Vader killing some dim-witted subordinate.

Still, it’s a great movie, exciting and fluid and beautifully acted. I’ll watch it again. If you haven’t seen it (which I seriously doubt), check it out…

From The Mahabharata to the Marvel MCU: The Sub-Genre Taking Over Hollywood

Back in the early 1990s when I was a poor graduate student, I used to stay home on Saturday nights and watch my little black-and-white TV. I couldn’t afford cable, of course, but thankfully there was always PBS, so I watched a lot of documentaries and episodes of Great Performances. On one such night, I saw a filmed performance of Peter Brook’s stage play The Mahabharata. The play is, of course, a dramatic adaptation of the great Hindu epic, the tale of a feud between two groups of royal cousins, the Pāṇḍava princes and their arch-nemeses, the Kauravas. As epic tales are wont to do, the feud escalates into a civil war so catastrophic that even the gods are pulled into the conflict (in the same way that the Greek gods Mars, Apollo, and Venus involve themselves in the The Illiad).

Being a filmed staged play, Brook’s TV version is low on special effects (this was before CGI) but packed with minimalistic, highly-stylized interpretations of sweeping battles, multi-armed demons, and flying chariots. Somehow, it all works, and I found myself obsessed with both the film and the story. A few years later I would finally read a popular translation of The Bhagavad Gita, which is really just one portion of the much larger Mahabharata.

Continue reading “From The Mahabharata to the Marvel MCU: The Sub-Genre Taking Over Hollywood”

The Page 69 Test

I’ve been meaning to post this for a while (sorry, I’m a flake). Marshal Zeringue has (another) really cool web site called The Page 69 Test, where he invites writers to turn to page 69 of their latest book and write about it. It’s actually a lot of fun! Here is my entry (for which I am grateful to Mr. Zeringue for inviting me to write).

What I’m Reading: “What Meets the Eye”

One can hardly imagine my admiration and delight as I read Alex Kenna’s fine and refreshingly original novel, What Meets the Eye. One thing that sets this book above—far above—the vast majority of mysteries is the symbolic connection it draws between two central characters–a cop-turned-P.I. named Kate Myles, and a brilliant artist named Margot Starling. Kenna sets them up as linked opposites, each a very smart and driven woman struggling to succeed in a dangerous (and largely male-dominated) world. Both are driven by a deep outrage at the injustice they see around them. And both have some dark history. 

Ultimately, of course, Kate and Margot are connected in a different way: Margot becomes the victim of a murder, and Kate is hired to find her killer.

Very seldom have I seen a mystery novel that attempts multiple points-of-view, and never with such skill. Kenna bounces back and forth between past and present, giving the reader before-and-after clues as to what, exactly, befell Margo, even as Kate unravels the mystery. It’s a very fresh and compelling technique. I also really enjoyed the surprising and original insights the novel offers about both women’s realms: the art world for Margot, and the law enforcement world for Kate.

But the real triumph of this book, for me, is Kate herself. It’s her book, and she’s a great character. Funny, smart, earthy, and fearless, she gives the reader an unequivocal here to root for. Yes, she’s done some questionable things in her past (she had a bit of an opioid habit), but she’s a devoted mother and a driven seeker of truth. She makes a great, new entry in the cannon of classic private detective heroes. 

(Cheapskate’s note: Right now, there is a steal-of-a-deal for this book on Amazon. (No, I don’t get a kick-back. I wish!))

Check it out…

“Wide Sargasso Sea” — Part 2 of 2!!!

In this episode, Ash and Margaret finish-off Jean Rhys’s classic 1967 novel, “Wide Sargasso Sea.” Also, Margaret explains the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope to Ash, while Ash considers how “Wide Sargasso Sea” might have been improved if the main character had known Kung Fu.

What I’m (Re-)Reading: “Devil in a Blue Dress”

Like a lot of people, my first exposure to Walter Mosely was when I saw the 1995 film adaptation of his novel, Devil in a Blue Dress, starring Denzel Washington. It’s a good movie, with fine performances by Washington and Don Cheadle, but it didn’t inspire me to seek out Mosely’s fiction. As far as I knew, he was just another solid mystery writer, one of many whom I hadn’t read.

Sometime later, I bought a copy of The Best American Short Stories and I was surprised to see a story by Mosely among that year’s selections. The story is called “Pet Fly” and it’s a deceptively simple tale of an office grunt (who happens to be black) trying to keep his integrity while working in modern corporate America. I was knocked-out by it. Later still, I stumbled upon an actual novel by Mosely, a science fiction work called The Wave, which turned out to be one of the best novels (sci-fi or otherwise) that I had read in years.

Continue reading “What I’m (Re-)Reading: “Devil in a Blue Dress””