• Reamde: A Novel © 2011
• William Morrow: HarperCollinsPublishers
• 1044 pages

There’s a curious juxtaposition here. Thrillers are, by nature, fast-pace adventure stories. Neal Stephenson’s latest thriller is a 1000+ page behemoth! Stephenson managed to insert deep characterization into his thrill ride in such a way that a 5 minute gun-fight can span 100 gripping pages.

This story covers everything from Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games to Islamic Terrorists, American survivalists hosting gun-toting family reunions to Asian hackers, Russian Organized crime syndicates to MI6, with a weed trafficker thrown in for good measure. You won’t run out of plot lines to consider!

The role of fate or luck in Reamde was particularly interesting. Stephenson managed to wrangle unbelievably improbable events into line without the reader feeling the effects of deus ex machina. It’s spectacular to see how he ties every thread together in one epic conclusion.

There were a few moments in the book where the sense of urgency departed and the thought of 1000+ pages wore on me. In hindsight, that’s probably because the action sequences are that well written.

My previous experience with Stephenson was his Cryptonomicon. After Reamde, I’m hooked.

• The Canterbury Tales © 2011
• Bloomsbury
• 143 pages

After thoroughly enjoying Chwast’s take on Dante, I was excited to snag a review copy of his Cantebury Tales. Unfortunately, expectations exceeded reality.

Chwast’s simple graphic style seemed too simplistic here. That leaves you with the story to carry the book. While The Divine Comedy seemed suited to such drastic reduction, Chaucer’s legendary poetry didn’t fare as well. The 24 tales, each reduced to only a few pages, were not compelling enough to stand on their own.

On the positive side, this is an easy introduction to the structure and substance of Chaucer. When I finally get around to tackling the original, I’ll use Chwast’s book as a map.

Disclaimer: A review copy of this book was provided at no cost through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewer’s program.

• Thomas Wingfold, Curate © 1876
• George Routledge and Sons
• 666 pages

Reading Thomas Winfold, Curate is like stepping into a time machine. You are transported from an era where sentences are short, plots unfold quickly, and characters are prized more for their role than their person, to a place where a 600 page novel wasn’t overly long, and characterization trumped instant gratification. It’s a sprawling 19th century novel that follows the spiritual awakening of a small-town minister.

I’ve always loved George MacDonald, but I’ve approached him from a different direction. I started with his fantastic works (Lilith and Phantastes), and then moved on to sample his children’s writing (At the Back of the North Wind, and Ranald Bannerman’s Boyhood). After tasting his poetry (Diary of an Old Soul), I began to read his sermons (all three volumes of Unspoken). It took me a long time to get to his adult novels, but it was worth the trip. Each genre he wrote in has a part to play in this book. There’s fantasy elements (from a certain journal), poetry, and even full sermons reprinted inside this novel.

One of the most endearing qualities of George MacDonald is his sense of goodness. It’s a difficult thing to explain, but his children’s works are rife with it. His heroes choose the good—a virtue left unplumbed by much of today’s literature. In particular, Wingfold’s honesty upon having his pseudo-faith challenged is beautiful. Indeed, it’s the first step towards real belief.

I should note that Michael Philips’ redacted form of the book, The Curate’s Awakening, is only half the size. I suppose it would be better to read that than nothing, but he does flatten out the characters and remove much of the important theological speculation. Reading Philips’ version will leave you feeling that MacDonald was far more sure in his theology than he truly was. Now that Project Gutenberg exists, you can read the original for free, instead of paying Bethany House for an abbreviated version. I prefer to take MacDonald straight up. The sermons and extended dialogue are all part of the charm.

While this book can appeal to many, if you’re a minister who is serious about questions of doubt and faith, this book is a treasure trove of prose detailing the intricacies of the human mind and soul.

• Timequake © 1997
• Berkley Books
• 250 pages

The premise is brilliant: Once upon a time the universe decided to rewind things ten years. Everyone has to relive the previous ten years over again. Some are put back in prison. Others are brought back to life. Everyone realizes rather quickly that they can’t do anything to alter things. They relive an entire decade as slaves to their own former choices.

Things get interesting when they re-approach the 10 year mark where the universe decided to do grand rewind. After living ten years on auto-pilot, people don’t know what to do with free will!

Unfortunately, the actual book doesn’t live up to the brilliance of the plot. Vonnegut’s meandering random style—which in other works is unique and endearing—is too scattered here. There are moments of brilliance but, in the end, too much confusion.

Ting-a-ling!

• Dante’s Divine Comedy: A Graphic Adaptation © 2010
• Bloomsbury
• 128 pages

I enjoyed every minute of Chwast’s take on Dante’s Divine Comedy. He managed to adapt and distill a masterpiece without exploiting or dumbing it down.

At 128 pages, this whirlwind tour that takes you through a Canto or two per page. Even so, the drama doesn’t feel rushed. In fact, if you’re planning on reading the original it would be worthwhile to leave this volume open beside it to keep you grounded in the flow of the narrative.

There were many opportunities for a graphic artist to exploit the imagery. I mean, where else do you read about people swimming in pools of excrement as poop rains down from the sky? Chwast’s economic style fairly evoked the imagery without degenerating into crassness. (I can only imagine what would have happened if Crumb tried to do this!)

This was my first encounter with Seymour Chwast’s art. It will not be my last.

Disclaimer: A review copy of this book was provided at no cost through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewer’s program.

• On Tremendous Trifles ©1909
• Hesperus © 2009
• 97 pages

This book shares a lot in common with the Seinfeld—they’re both essentially works about nothing (at least nothing we’d consider worth considering). Tremendous Trifles is a collection of short essays on the things most of us wouldn’t pause to think twice about.

In Chesterton’s able hands, topics such as the detritus in one’s pocket or the magnificence of a blank canvas (otherwise known as a ceiling) reach sublime heights. It’s wonderful to think that the most meaningless items in life are worth (at least) 1,250 words and a column in the local newspaper.

Some might accuse Chesterton of excessive indulgence. You either love his verbose style or hate it. I enjoy slowing down to the leisurely pace he sets.

Since there are numerous editions of Tremendous Trifles around, I should make a few notes about this Hesperus edition. The binding holds together well, the text is crisp, the cover’s cleanly designed, and there’s handy fold-overs on the front and back cover to mark your place. This is the sort of quality paperback that makes you want to buy the rest of the publisher’s set.

Disclaimer: A review copy of this book was provided at no cost through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewer’s program.

• The Zahir: A Novel of Obsession (P.S.) © 2005
• Harper Perennial
• 298 pages

I’m afraid my journey with Coelho is over. I was intrigued by The Alchemist, even though it smacked of neo-gnosticism. Veronica Decides to Die had such a twisted premise, I could overlook the philosophy. The Devil and Miss Prym, again, was such an interesting take on a folksy tale, I half-enjoyed it. In The Zahir, Coelho’s mushy spiritualism collided so violently with my worldview it was a chore to read.

I did enjoy the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the book—the cultures of Brazil, France and Kazakhstan combine to make interesting reading. Coelho’s prose is beautiful to read, as well. He moves effortlessly between dialogue and thought.

In the end, though, I’m tired of people thinking that leaving their old life behind will allow them to “find themselves”. That mid-life-crisis myth has spoiled too many relationships for me to take it seriously.

• The Age of Fable © 1855
• The Heritage Press (with additions © 1942)
• 369 pages

Bulfinch’s Age of Fable is a classic reference work that lives up to its reputation. The book is packed with anecdotes of deities, monsters, and heroes, some of whom I had never heard of before. Thanks to the “Index of Names”, it will be my first reference when I come across an unfamiliar character (okay, my second after Wikipedia).

The book attempted to do two things: acquaint the reader with the legends, and show how they are alluded to in poetry. While the legends were terse and informative, I found the poetry references tedious and arbitrary.

I was also confused by the scope of the book. The contents are overwhelmingly stacked toward Greek and Roman mythology, but there’s also chapters on Egyptian, Norse, and even Eastern myths. These chapters felt like unnecessary additions that didn’t do justice to their subject matter.

I should also say that my edition (I scanned my own cover, above) is beautiful. The fabric wrapping on the hardcover is embossed. The maps inside both covers are printed in two colours. Even the pages themselves are printed on high quality paper. Unfortunately, this edition isn’t in print—the link directs to a mere Dover Thrift edition.

• The Napoleon of Notting Hill © 1904
• Wordsworth © 1996
• 129 pages

Futurists fall into two categories: those who predict the collapse of civilization (Wells, Orwell, Atwood), and those who anticipate sunshine and lollipops (Kurzwiel, The Jetsons). Chesterton invented a new category. In 1904, he wrote a novel about a future eight decades later where everything remained the same. The only thing that increased was apathy.

The two main characters in the narrative represented two elements that make the world go ’round: extreme humor and extreme seriousness. Their interplay (especially in the last chapter) is fascinating.

This is one of Chesterton’s first novels. It’s not as polished as The Man Who Was Thursday or even The Club of Queer Trades. It is still well worth reading. There are quotable lines on almost every page that mark this as vintage Chesterton.

• Angel Time: The Songs of the Seraphim © 2009
• Alfred A. Knopf
• 268 pages

Angel Time is the story of an assassin who repents and teams up with an angel to do God’s work at various times in history. Rice envisions a number of books for this new character.

Here a disclaimer before I continue: I’ve never read Interview with the Vampire, or any of her other works in that genre. I started reading Rice when she wrote her Christ the Lord books (Out of Egypt, The Road to Cana) and her spiritual autobiography, Called Out of Darkness. When I heard she wrote a supernatural fiction from a post-conversion perspective, I was intrigued. Could this be the Roman Catholic Frank Peretti?

I wanted to like this book, but found it quite average. While I was interested by the theological nuances of the text, they did little to move the plot or character development along. It was almost as if Rice wanted to use her familiar genre to explain her new-found faith.

This book isn’t bad—it’s just not as good as I’ve come to expect from Rice. I’ll still eagerly await the next volume.