The Hobbit

This book is J.R.R. Tolkien's famous children's adventure novel; I've read it on this blog before, hence that link going back to my original post - this time however I've been listening to it a chapter a week (more or less) on Tolkien Trash's streaming channel, which has been very entertaining.

The Double

This book by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (yes, I'm on something of a binge of him lately, can you blame me) is a sort of magical realist novel. By which I mean, its premise is essentially supernatural but its effect is utterly grounded.

   So. Yakov Petrovich Golyadkin is a mid-ranking bureaucrat in St Petersburg, and despite his largely ineffectual attempts to climb the ladders of social status, most things are going okay for him. Until someone else shows up; someone who looks exactly like him, has just got a job in the same office, and somehow is even also called Yakov Petrovich Golyadkin. Our original protagonist initially responds to the appearance of the doppelganger with horror & despair - as you would - but soon finds himself inviting him round for a few drinks & even, when learning of Golyadkin Jr's (as he comes to be called throughout the narration) prior impoverished situation invites him to stay in his flat. Only, when he wakes the next morning, Jr is gone, but turns up at work sure enough and seems to be undertaking some complex plot to entirely humiliate, ruin & supplant Golyadkin Sr. I won't ruin the ending but that's basically the premise.

   I thought this was an existentially interesting book, playing on themes of identity and authenticity to a genuinely painful degree. While in my opinion still no match to Notes from Underground, this work of Dostoyevsky's is sure to be thought-provoking and a thoroughly emotionally rollercoasterish ride of a read.

Notes from Underground

This book is one of the earlier works of renowned Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky, but boy is it a banger. Even being as it is essentially a novel, it manages to elucidate an existential philosophy more potent than anything I've read - its protagonist (unnamed, generally simply called "the Underground Man") striking an uncomfortable balance between the existentialisms of both Kierkegaard & Camus and the cyncism of Diogenes.

   So what's the book about? I'll hint at this startingly by quoting the opening lines: "I am a sick man. I am a spiteful man." The Underground Man is a person of insane degrees of self-absorption, utterly unlikeable & yet thoroughly compelling. He lives in squalour, obviously by choice as he is not unintelligent, and seems to revel in the humiliation he suffers passively at the hands of a society around him that seems to be able to simply get on with its business without thinking too much about it. Social status is a particular itch in the Underground Man's side; he resents those who have it for merely having it, and yet he also resents those who lack it for wanting it for the intellectual weakness of desiring something so vapid. He seems to revel in his own humiliation, and yet deeply hates those whom he has perceived to have humiliated him - at one point, a military officer bumps into him in a crowded room and seems not to notice; the Underground Man stews on this for two full years, before deciding to take his revenge - he buys an expensive suit, walks along a street he knows the officer often walks down, and deliberately fails to move out of the way when the man is about to bump into him.* Later in the story, he encounters Liza, a prostitute, with whom he has an authentically heartfelt conversation, then, realising the foolishness of his own vulnerability, he goes out of his way to monologue to her about how miserable her life will be, inevitably, with the narration-stated intention of causing her exquisite suffering so that she may become as enlightened as he. The whole relationship with Liza is what ties up the plot and leads to the murky, quavering note of reflective repentance at the end of the novel. But I don't want to spoil too much.

   This is the first Dostoyevsky I've ever read, and it's made me wonder what took me so long. Man was a psychological and philosophical genius. This book is not a mere novel - it's a mirror. As despicable as the Underground Man is, through his narration you can easily see parts of yourself reflected in him, and the prose is thorough enough that you can even glean practical clues as to how to avoid wasting your life in such ways through it. This book changed me. I would recommend anyone with a love of literature to come to this novel for what it is - and for anyone with an existential itch to come to this book for what it could be.

* In reality, this takes multiple attempts; every time the Underground Man is about to bump into the officer, he deferently moves out of the way, but eventually he plucks up the courage to carry the task through to fulfilment - and he is happy! For a few days or so.

Leviathan

This book is a Warhammer 40k novel by Darius Hinks, and it's basically about the Ultramarines & the Cadia 401st defending the fortress-world Regium against a tyranid hive fleet invasion, and while on a superficial grimdark level that's exciting, I didn't feel it was particularly interesting to read about. Aesthetically I'm a big fan of tyranids - they were one of my armies back in my teenage days when I was still involved in the tabletop hobby rather than mere lore-reading - but lorewise I think their motivational simplicity makes them rather dull to tell stories about, unless you're an incredibly imaginative & skilled writer, which (sorry) I don't think Hinks is. If you're a tyranid mega-fan you might get a kick out of it, but if you're more into 40k for the complex lore then this book has very little to offer you, and if you simply enjoy good sci-fi you can certainly easily do better than this.

the Fall of Cadia

This book by Robert Rath is the first Warhammer 40,000 novel I've read in a while. No spoilers except for the title itself - despite the propagandic Cadian refrain "Cadia stands", Cadia does indeed fall. We here witness the epic planet-scale battle between Lord Commander Ursarkar Creed and Warmaster Abbadon the Despoiler - with the raging war told from all manner of angles, from those of command to the slogging foot troops and everything inbetween. Oh, and Belisarius Cawl is here to help eventually (also for personal research) as is everyone's favourite immortal museum curator Trazyn, to watch (and collect exhibits). If you're new to 40k a lot of this might go over your head but you still might appreciate it as a stompingly action-packed sci-fi war novel; if you're anywhere even 10% deep into 40k lore, this is a must-read. Rath is a very skilled writer and despite the preliminary list of main characters spanning five pages in itself this is easy enough to follow. It is a long one, going for 651 pages, but its pace never lets up, nor its tension.

the Guest Cat

This book is a novel by Takashi Hiraide (possibly autobiographical, I'd like to think so). It's extremely simple: a couple in their thirties, both work-from-home freelance writers, develop a blossoming relationship with the cat belonging to one of their neighbours. That's it, that's the book. But it's written in such poignant, intimate prose that it becomes a delicious meandering through everyday life's joys & sorrows. Absolutely worth a read.

A Monster Calls

This book is a novel by Patrick Ness (although based on an idea by Siobhan Dowd, who came up with the basic story but died of cancer before she could write it - which makes the book all the more poignant in my opinion) & illustrated beautifully by Jim Kay.*

   In it, thirteen-year-old Conor O'Malley has been having a recurring nightmare in which his mother - who is being treated for cancer** - is taken by a monster and there's nothing he can do to save her. Then one night, he is visited by a new monster, something ancient & wild - purportedly the yew tree from the churchyard his house's rear windows look out upon. The monster tells Conor three stories, and then demands in return that he tells the fourth: specifically, the truth. I won't spoil the plot but that's the broad outline. I really enjoyed this book - it's a kid-friendly (well, between ages eight to fourteen, maybe) exploration of pain & fear & grief told in powerful prose.

* The illustrations are marvellous; scratchy & shadowy, eerie & suggestive, full of interesting textures. They really add a great deal to the atmosphere of the story.

** "The C word" isn't mentioned anywhere in the book, but it's obvious.

the Lord of the Rings: book six

This book is the sixth and final instalment of J.R.R. Tolkien's genre-defining fantasy epic The Lord of the Rings, which I've read before on this blog hence that link going back to my original post about it - I've been re-enjoying the series over the past sixty weeks with YouTuber Tolkien Trash reading a chapter a week on livestream, which was (it's over! but she's doing The Hobbit next & then The Silmarillion) a very pleasant experience. It was like an audiobook with a chat feature so you can jest & surmise &etc with other listeners as you go.

the Birth of Nothing

This book is a dystopian novel by Pavel Marek, and was far more intensively full of thought-provoking ideas & discourse than I was prepared for it to be. We follow Casimir, a young man whose dissatisfaction with the approaching-perfect world around him manifests in something of a rebellious streak. But is there any need for his dissent? I don't want to give away much about the plot - but the book elusively & definitively resists answering that question: Casimir's feelings about the world & the new revolutionary structures of the world itself play in a brilliant complex dialogue that raises some incredibly interesting & unique questions about truth, freedom, equality, tolerance, well-being, and more. Anyone interested in political perfectionism & what this can look or feel like will get a lot out of this novel, I guarantee.

the Lord of the Rings: book five

This book is the second half of The Return of the King, the final instalment of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings trilogy, which as with the rest of the series I've read before (see hence that link going to my prior post about this) but am re-enjoying thanks to dogged YouTuber Tolkien Trash's project to read the series in full, aloud, live, a chapter a week.

the Lord of the Rings: book four

This book is the second part of the second book in J. R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings trilogy, which I am still very enjoyably reworking my way through by means of TolkienTrash's weekly chapter streams.

That Hideous Strength

This book* is the final instalment in C.S. Lewis's Space trilogy (see here for the first & second ones) - and whooo boy, is it a stonker. It's very different from the first two - being longer than both of them put together, much darker in tone & content, with several dozen characters rather than the less-than-ten of the prior instalments, and whereas books one & two developed their sci-fi themes by entailing the visiting of other planets & conversing with alien species in this one we are restricted to three or four small rural English towns; it also somewhat straddles the line between sci-fi & fantasy as the machinations of the eldila manifest much more strongly. As is my wont with series, this being the third book of the trilogy, I will endeavour to give a quick [spoiler-free] summary of the plot before diving into some broader reflections on the characters, themes, etc. of the series as a whole.

   So - the story. We follow a young married couple, Mark & Jane Studdock. Mark is a fellow of sociology at Bracton College, in the small [fictional] university town of Edgestow; Jane is currently working through a doctorate on John Donne [the 17th-century metaphysical poet]. Bracton is currently facing a dilemma over its dealings with the NICE [the National Institute for Co-ordinated Experiments; nice acronym, Lewis] who want to purchase land off it for reasons unclear. Mark is, by and by, brought by his associate Feverstone [slight spoiler alert - this is Devine from the first book] into direct contact and possibly employment by the NICE: though the more time Mark spends in that world the more questions he has about its moral intent. Jane, meanwhile, has started having clairvoyant dreams: after seeking help for this she is brought into contact with a ragtag collective of people following some indiscernible purpose under the stewardship of a man called the Director [spoiler alert - this is Dr Ransom from the first two books]. Tensions are high, the stakes keep getting raised, questions go unanswered, the pride of science & bureaucracy rear their monstrous heads, and the mounting conspiracy rolls us with a tremendous crescendo throughout the course of the plot. Oh yeh, and Merlin's knocking about somewhere, and both NICE and Ransom's collective want to get him on their side.

   Lewis did in fact intend this novel as an imaginative exploration of the ideas he presented in his essays The Abolition of Man, but I think they come through far more clearly & powerfully here than they did in his non-fiction. The themes of man's struggle with/against nature [including, in the final event, human nature] in the light of cold reason & the essentiality of moral truth, given the chaos that questioning it too skeptically can induce, are both explored here with prosaic perfection. Other remarks I will make about this novel specifically are that Mr. Bultitude is the greatest fictional bear I have ever encountered, "the Head" is truly horrifying as a quasi-impotent villain, Lewis's Merlin is the most original Merlin I have seen in book or on screen, the Inklings** get a couple of generous hat-tips (eg. Tolkien's Numénor is referenced several times as "the true original West" [albeit spelled "Numinor" by Lewis] & Barfield gets a mention without even changing his name), and chapter fourteen ends with the best description of a mystical experience I have ever read outside of actual mystics' own works.

   But what of the series as a whole? I have to say, despite this third one being such a dramatic superficial departure from the first two, the thematic coherence presented across all three is remarkably tight, and builds organically in a truly epic manner. The ideas of innocence, Fallenness, experience, redemption, etc. are explored with poetic precision - one could easily write a PhD digging into the metaphysical & theological dimensions of this trilogy's world. Lewis here is at his best, most inventive writing self; whether the floral beauty of the descriptive passages in Perelandra, the alien strangeness of the races on Malacandra, the unutterable transcendence of the eldila & especially the Oyarsas, the turns of deft phrasing that convey complex feelings exactly, the purposed depth of the dialogue - this trilogy might be the best thing Lewis ever wrote, because not only does it make a heap of philosophically & religiously chewy points, but it also works as a coherent compelling story in its own right. Mark & Jane, as Weston, as Devine, as the several-dozen other characters in the third one [especially Mrs. Ironwood & "the Fairy" Hardcastle] are rich & believable; and at the beating heart of the cast Dr. Ransom undergoes a prodigious character arc over the course of the trilogy, from unassuming academic to a sage who converses with archangels, but he never loses the sense of being a somewhat relatable everyman for the audience to cling to as the worlds are unveiled. There are also curious ruminations on the nature of gender particularly in the second and third books, but I won't start unpicking that here.

   I absolutely loved reading this trilogy. Lewis is as well known for his incredibly insightful & edifying Christian apologetics but is most famous for The Chronicles of Narnia - but call it writing better for adults [rude] this trilogy is in my opinion far superior in its potency of theme & display of imagination & even prose style. I would highly recommend these books to anyone who enjoys a good sci-fi and/or fantasy adventure that's as thought-provoking as it is unpredictable: and while to be sure there are overt Christian messages littered throughout, these are not polemical or evangelical in form & are so well-integrated into the overall fabric of the story that even Philip Pullman would have to admit it's not unreasonable to have them in there.

* Certainly not to be confused with this terrible book of the same title.

** The Inklings were an informal club of creative Oxford academics of whom Lewis was a core member, alongside J.R.R. Tolkien, Owen Barfield, and others. They used to meet weekly at The Eagle and Child [nice pub if you're ever in Oxford and fancy a pint where great minds have been] to discuss their works and ideas.

Perelandra

This book by C.S. Lewis is the second in his Space trilogy (see here for the first - as always with my posts about series I am here going to give a spoiler-free[ish] summary of the plot, reserving my reflections on the characters & themes for the post about the last one).

   We open with the narrator, Lewis (an obvious author self-insert if ever I saw one) recounting his recent visit to his friend Dr. Elwin Ransom, the protagonist. Ransom is mysteriously abducted & then returned & then recounts his travels to Lewis, which is from where we get the prose narrative of the majority of the book. Ransom had been taken to Perelandra (i.e. Venus) by the eldila, where, after a few chapters of frankly gorgeous scenic descriptive passages, he finally meets another humanoid - the 'Green Lady' as she is called. Ransom & the Green Lady have a shared language thanks to Ransom's time on Malacandra [Mars] but little shared in terms of communicable concepts, given the essential innocence of the Lady's world. In no short order though, Professor Weston (as in the antagonist of the first book) lands on Perelandra in his space-ship, and soon learns of the single divine command given to the Lady and the only other sentient inhabitant of this world, whom she calls 'the King', that they are never to spend a night on fixed land.* Weston, whom Ransom almost immediately perceives as to be under devilish control,** spends several chapters whispering poison to the Lady to doubt & thus eventually transcend this command of Maleldil, combated rhetorically (and eventually physically) by Ransom. I don't want to spoil the ending so I will leave off here, about halfway through the book, but let me assure you that when we finally meet 'the King' and realise the metaphysical & eschatological implications of a world having narrowly escaped its 'Fall' (to use a classical Christian term) the sublimity of the descriptive passages reaches new undreamt-of heights. Truly a great book with much on the nature of innocence, obedience, and sin to provoke deep thought.

   The third book in the trilogy is almost twice as long as this one, but I'm enjoying them so much that I might finish it sooner that expected. In any case, watch this space for my overall ruminations on the trilogy.

* As Perelandra is basically an ocean planet, with the vast majority of its 'land' being free-floating vegetative islands, with the exception of a tiny minority of 'fixed' land that is rooted to the spot amid the roiling oceans.

** The devil, or "The Bent One" as known in trans-solar language, is in these books a real metaphysical entity determined to sway sentient beings away from the will of Maleldil, a.k.a. God. I have to say that Lewis's descriptive depictions of evil as it is in this book is just as horrifying & unsettling as his more beauteous description of the Perelandran landscapes are edifying & inspiring. Why couldn't he have brought this style of prose to Narnia? As imaginative as it may well be, I can't help but affirm that Lewis is letting his imagination find much greater fruit here in his sci-fi for adults than he ever did in his fantasy for children. Which is a shame.

Out of the Silent Planet

This book is the first instalment of C.S. Lewis's Space trilogy. As is my wont when dealing with series, in this post I will only give a rough [spoiler-free] sketch of the story & reserve my broader reflections on characters/themes/etc for the post about the final book.

   We are introduced to Dr. Ransom, a Cambridge philologist on a walking holiday. Quite by chance he bumps into an old schoolmate whom he cordially dislikes, named Devine, and his associate, an eminent physicist named Weston. The pair invite Ransom back for a drink, and - lo! - he finds himself drugged. Ransom wakes up on a spaceship headed for the planet Malacandra [spoiler alert - it's Mars] where his captors intend to sell him as a sacrifice to the planet's locals in exchange for precious objects. Upon arrival however, Ransom manages to escape their clutches, and soon finds himself embroiled in a rambling, largely aimless adventure during which he is introduced one-by-one to the three sentient races peopling Malacandra - the seal-like poets, hrossa; the spindly-humanoid thinkers, sorns; and the frog-like masons, pfifltriggi. Each of these alien races are deliciously well-sketched in both physiology & culture, displaying an imagination far beyond the folklore-lucky-dip population of Narnia, to make a harsh but fair comparison with Lewis's other forays into imaginative fiction. Ransom spends long enough with these locals to get to grips with their language, but when Devine & Weston shoot dead the hross whom he had best befriended, he is prompted to go on a solitary quest in pursuit of the eldila, spiritual-ish beings who are revered on Malacandra, and who the locals think it is important Ransom explain himself to. We find out why in the final few chapters, in which the conflicting philosophies of Malacandra & the silent planet Thulcandra [i.e. Earth] are brought into colourful dialogue.

   I really enjoyed this book* - it has a lot of really interesting anthropological & ethical reflections littered casually throughout, and is told in lively immersive prose; I look forward to reading the next two books soon.

* Arguably not as much as I apparently did the first time I tried to read it, though that was back in the summer of 2020 while I was midway through a psychotic break - as is evidenced by the insanely dense underlinings & annotations on the first five or so pages [as well as pages 42-3 for some reason] of my copy of this book.

the Dispossessed

This book is a sci-fi utopia from the endlessly inventive mind of Ursula K. Le Guin. It's widely regarded as her best, and though personally I still prefer the Earthsea cycle, I can easily see why.

   So - the book itself. We follow Shevek, a physicist on the verge of developing a new theory of time that could revolutionize relations between distant worlds. He is from Anarres, an anarchistic planet, though through the book we skip between flashbacks here to the present on Urras, a capitalistic (although in the book they use the term "propertarian") planet from which the Anarresti had emigrated some couple of centuries prior. Shevek is hell-bent on developing & disseminating his theory of time, but bureaucratic blockages block his efforts on both Annares & Urras. I will yield from giving spoilers, so here ends my summary.

   Overall this is a fantastic work - a very enjoyable, page-turning sci-fi that asks many curious questions about the nature of freedom, power, solidarity, and livelihood. Very highly recommended.

the Left Hand of Darkness

This book is quite probably Ursula K. Le Guin's most famous work (outside of Earthsea, of course), and rightly considered a modern sci-fi classic. I have a huge amount I could say about this novel but I think it speaks for itself so well that I will not give it the disservice of an attempt at a full reflection in a mere blogpost & instead simply urge you to read it; whether you're a fan of sci-fi or not - this is just a masterfully told, powerful, complex story. To give you the very broadest of broad strokes outlines - we follow Genly Ai, the envoy from the Ekumen* to the wintry planet Gethen, where he gets caught up in the turbulence of its local politics & has to contend with coming to an understanding of the natives' alternative mode of sex.** That's all I'm saying. Read this novel.

* An alliance, for want of a better term, of 83 human[ish]-populated planets, which it's Ai's job to try to persuade Gethen's authorities to affiliate themselves with.

** Incredibly imaginative worldbuilding here: the Gethenian people are all genderfluid bisexuals, effectively - i.e. they spend 80% of their lives living as sexless androgynes, then in their monthly cycles of libidinous urges they become either male or female for a few days. (Sections of the novel read like extracts from a Judith Butler thought experiment.) This is important to the story (what other novel can boast a line like "the king was pregnant"? tell me) but never has to rely on infodumps, instead being organically seeded & developed throughout. You can tell Le Guin was raised by an anthropologist in how believably she is able to depict such an alien (and yet human) society, so well thought-through it comes across.

the Amber Spyglass

This book is the third (see here for the first and here for the second books) and final instalment of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy. I didn't mention in earlier posts but although this is my first time reading these* I did watch the recent BBC adaptation of them (which is very good but not as good as the books, as is so often the case), so I already had a broad grasp of the story, characters, and themes; but I wanted to revisit it from the horse's mouth, as it were.

   So - the story. As with previous instalments I shall only sketch out the first third or so to avoid spoiling it. Lyra has been captured by Mrs Coulter, who is keeping her in a drug-induced sleep while she [Mrs Coulter that is] plots her next move to keep her daughter safe from the clutches of the Church: meanwhile, Lyra is being visited in her dreams by her dead friend from the first book, Roger, who seems to be calling out from the land of the dead. Will is universe-hopping with the subtle knife, looking for Lyra, soon crossing paths & teaming up with Iorek Byrnison, who has resumed his duties as king of the armoured bears after his last mission with Lee Scoresby went awry. Mary Malone found a window in her universe to another world populated by intelligent wheeled creatures called mulefa, who teach her a great many new strange things. And thundering on in the background to all this is a mounting war for dominance of the heavens - the Church on the defensive, and Lord Asriel with all the allies he can muster on the offensive. Needless to say, Will & Lyra soon reunite, and aware of the grand currents of destiny swirling around them, they resolve to find a way to go to the land of the dead - to do something, they know not what, but that will have monumental impact on the battles brewing in the world around them.

   I hugely enjoyed this whole trilogy. Lyra & Will are complex, likeable & relatable as protagonists; the moral frameworks of antagonistic forces & the conflicts they're engaged in are delightfully grey & thought-provoking; Pullman is a straightforward, not at all verbose or lofty, writer of immense skill in conveying feelings from urgency to safety & everything inbetween; and finally I would say that the originality of the fantasy elements in these stories is perhaps the strongest of all the kids' fantasy series I've read for this blog. The alethiometer & the subtle knife are unique conceptual inventions, far from being mere MacGuffins these are well-thought-through objects with comprehensible powers that drive the plot forward in innovative ways. And Dust! I won't actually give you any info on Dust here, in case you want to read the trilogy for yourself, as exploring & resolving the mysteries around it as a phenomenon is central to the backbone of the books, but I will say again that it is a marvellously original & fecund idea in fantastical worldbuilding.

   This whole trilogy I would highly recommend for readers between six & fourteen maybe (don't @ me if you decide this is an inappropriate age bracket, when I was a child I read whatever the heck I wanted & it did no lasting damage) for maximal enjoyment but these are such well-crafted stories that I'm sure adult readers will get a lot out of them too. I did.

* To my shame - I would have loved them as a child. But then, I never read The Chronicles of Narnia as a child either, and would have loved them; and I suspect Pullman being a kind of anti-Lewis the dialectic between the two series in my imagination had I read both would have led me to some interesting theological questions as a youth.

the Subtle Knife

This book is the second instalment of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy. As I said in my previous post, as I always do for serieses I will be reserving my fuller thoughts on the whole for the final post & here will simply give a rough, spoiler-free sketch of the story's gist.

   Will Parry, a teenage boy from our world, whose chief concern in life is caring for his mentally-ill mother, accidentally kills a man who has broken into the house. Naturally, he leaves his mum with his piano teacher to keep her safe while he runs away - then, almost immediately, he finds a magical window into another world. This other world, called Cittágazze, is a crumbling coastal city, deserted by everyone but children. While exploring, the first other person Will encounters is a girl slightly younger than him who introduces herself as Lyra Silvertongue (aye, the very same heroine from the first book - she was renamed by Iorek Byrnison), who tells him that great things are afoot. Together they start travelling back and forth between Will's universe & Cittágazze as Lyra searches for her father for clues as to where her path leads & Will in turn seeks his own father, an explorer who went missing on a mission in the far north when Will was a baby. Their hunt soon leads them into contact with a pair of notable adults - the seemingly helpful museum-enthusiast Sir Charles Latrom & the bewildered dark-matter research scientist Dr Mary Malone; mysteries begin to resolve somewhat into focus & conspiracies continue to plod inexorably along, and soon the duo find themselves seeking the eponymous subtle knife, an item of immense cosmic power that people from many worlds would kill to possess. I will discuss it along with the alethiometer (and Dust! I haven't mentioned Dust in either post yet, oops) in the post about the final book in the trilogy, coming soon. Oh, forgot to mention, Lee Scoresby is still hanging about looking for a shaman, and Serafina Pekkala (a witch-queen) is here too.

Northern Lights

This book is a children's fantasy novel by Philip Pullman, standing as the first book in his His Dark Materials trilogy, which I've never read before & intend to finish over the next week or so. As is my wont with serieses, I'll reserve my commentary and reflections on characters, overall plot, themes, etc until the post about the last book and here concern myself only with providing a quick spoiler-free sketch of the story so far.

   The novel opens in Jordan College, Oxford, albeit not in our universe but in an alternate reality where all humans are perpetually accompanied by their daemons - animal-form embodiments of their humans' souls. We are introduced to Lyra Belacqua & her daemon Pantalaimon, as her uncle Lord Asriel returns to Jordan from an expedition in the far north. It becomes clear that conspiracy is afoot, and after an unexpected gain (the Master of Jordan gives Lyra one of the only existing alethiometers; a curious arcane instrument which I will discuss in more depth in my final post about the trilogy) followed by an unexpected loss (Lyra's best friend Roger goes missing; she presumes he has been taken by a nefarious mysterious group nicknamed "the Gobblers"), Lyra is sent away from Jordan to live as the assistant to a glamourous & powerful woman named Mrs Coulter. However - just as she's starting to adjust to the high-class lifestyle, Lyra notices that the tendrils of conspiracy don't even leave her safe here - so she runs away, ending up in the company of the gyptians (a community of people largely comparable to gypsies in our universe, only with barges instead of caravans), who she urges to go north to track down the Gobblers & rescue Roger (along with the many other children, some of them gyptians, who have been taken). The icy wastes of the far North then play background to a rollercoaster of captures & escapes, near misses & fatal mistakes - we meet Iorek Byrnison, an armoured bear, and Lee Scoresby, a Texan aeronaut, and Lyra & the gyptians do their best to muddle through the deepening dangers of the conspiracy they're uncovering, including whatever roles in it Lord Asriel & Mrs Coulter seem to be playing.

   I read this in two big sittings. Pullman writes extremely well & I found this a highly compelling page-turner - as an adult! Had I been exposed more fully to these books when I was of their target audience age (say, ten to thirteenish maybe) I'm confident they would have displaced The Franchise That Must Not Be Named as my go-to rereads. Strongly recommended. Stand by for posts about books two & three.

the Lord of the Rings: book three

This book is the third part of J. R. R. Tolkien's timeless classic The Lord of the Rings series. As with previous more recent posts about these books, these are ones I've read before, so please dig into my blog history through category tags or the dated archive to see my fuller thoughts and/or summaries on the themes/plots of this story - I experienced this again through the ongoing mission of YouTuber Tolkien Trash to read the whole trilogy to her audience a chapter a week, a task which I have to say she is performing excellently.