Review of "Changes"

Changes by Charles Colyott

My rating: 2 of 5 stars


I read this book based on a glowing recommendation by Sara King, the author of the "Legend of Zero" series. Which is great, by the way. Unfortunately, this book is not.

I was going to give it one star, but I have to add another because I found myself thinking about this book for a couple weeks after I finished it. That doesn't necessarily make it a "better" book, but... it means something.

Mr. Colyott seems to be on a mission to remind everyone that Tai Chi is, in reality, a badass martial art. Those slow movements can be sped up with devastating effect. Because I spent a couple of years taking Tai Chi, the most entertaining part of this book for me was seeing the protagonist reference poses I knew in the context of serious combat.

His other raison d'etre is to proselytize for acupuncture, which is shown as able to fix pretty much any ailment. I reserve judgement about the merits of acupuncture, but I did get a little tired of being forever reminded of its efficacy. (I'm resisting the urge to make a "beating a dead horse, then bringing it back to life with acupuncture" joke. Oh, no, wait, I didn't resist after all!)

The problems I had with this book were mostly based around its cliches and unoriginality. The protagonist is a living collection of well worn tropes. The book is written in the first person, and the narrator is the standard "just can't help myself from making biting witty remarks, even though they get me in trouble" type. The plot is a classic "I fell in to this murder investigation by accident, but since I'm way smarter and more observant than the detective, he can't help but keep me around" situation. Practically everything that he encounters happens to fall neatly into his esoteric areas of expertise. He's inexplicably irresistible to the super hot young woman, who is of course much smarter and more dynamic than most people give her credit for based on her attractiveness. She has a quirky but adorable style, which is fascinating to him in its uniqueness. He is intrigued by her music taste, which is so different and interesting compared to his own; (the fact that several specific bands are name dropped comes across as shout outs to what are probably the author's favorites.)

When he was a young man in Hong Kong, our hero was trained in both Tai Chi and acupuncture by a nearly perfect teacher, who didn't want to teach him, but was worn down by his stubborn (but totally inexplicable) devotion. In famous Mr. Miyagi style, his mentor tells him to stand outside his door for months, occasionally coming out to correct his posture; when the neighborhood bullies come by, the narrator suddenly finds that he is un-push-over-able, and is well on his way to mastery of the ancient secrets.

I was truly irritated by a shameless deus ex machina. Although the narrator runs a dirty little acupuncture and herb shop (known to a few as a hidden gem), he never really works - after all, the author needs him free to have adventures. So how does he afford to live? Well, halfway through the book it turns out that he's independently wealthy, having inherited a bunch of money, but doesn't feel the need to spend it.

The chapters of this book are tiny, some less than a page, and often end with some bit of pithy observation or witty remark. This allows the author to avoid the need to craft actual drama by providing a constant stream of manufactured cliffhangers.

It may sound like I hated this book. That's probably because I largely hated this book. Nevertheless, there were moments of genuine enjoyment, and a couple of those witty remarks actually were witty enough to entertain. I laughed aloud once or twice at the antics of the character that was clearly designed for just that purpose. Also, I did feel compelled to find out what happened to (partially) resolve the mess of a plot.

I think that if you go in with appropriately low expectations you could enjoy reading this book, but there are a lot of better choices available. Check out Forging Zero.


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I never thought I'd get to see James live.

I never thought I'd get to see James live. Not only had they officially broken up a few years ago, but even before that they had very little to do with the US in terms of promotion and touring, so I was thrilled to see that they were coming to town. I only have one friend that has really shared a love of that band with me, and I tried to get her to fly in from out of state to see the show with me, but it just wasn't going to work out logistically and financially. I did have one other friend that was going to the show, but for some reason I kind of felt like going alone, which is actually very unlike me. I suppose it's because James has always been a band that was (with that one exception) pretty much just mine, as far as my friends were concerned, and so I felt like it was more appropriate to be solo for the concert as well. Considering what a wonderful experience I had that night, I think I probably made the right decision.

Many concerts I've seen have a very clear feeling of distinction between the performers and the audience, the observers and the observed. Even when an artist tries to interact with the crowd, it takes a certain skill and/or type of person to be able to break that barrier, and make the audience feel like they're really connected with the performer as an actual person, both sharing the same experience. James, and in particular Tim Booth, was able to create that connection more effectively than any performer at any other show I've ever seen.

The set started with with Tim and the guitarist (Saul?) in the middle of the crowd singing "Sit Down", and walking up to the stage as they played. It was a pleasant confusion not knowing where the music was coming from right away. The audience felt like a whole; all of us trying to figure it out - quickly letting each other know what was happening - all turning towards that central point where Tim and Saul had seemed to appear. It served to immediately break the fourth wall of the performance, and so from the very first note there was a feeling of being involved in the concert.

The next song was the gorgeous "Out To Get You", and it was performed sweetly and beautifully. After it was over, Tim paused to greet the crowd. He asked for a minute to talk to us, which immediately indicated that this was going to be something other than the usual "HELLO SEATTLE!" type of greeting. He then told us a story about his experience of playing a show just after his dad died a number of years ago; he talked about how bad that evening felt, and that in retrospect he felt that it was mostly because he didn't let the audience know what had happened. It's obvious that performing is a meaningful and personal thing for him, but during that show he felt disconnected from the music, from the crowd, and from the experience. He said that he didn't want that to happen again, so he wanted to let us know that a few hours before our show he'd gotten a call informing him that his mom had had a stroke. There was of course an immediate reaction of shock and sadness from the crowd, but he assured us that he was ok, and that we'd still have a good time together. But he wanted us to understand that if he seemed a bit emotional or off-balance, that it was because of that call. He then told us a little about his mom; that she was quite old, and that she had been living in a nursing home for some time. He said that the lyrics for the song they were about to perform, "Tell Her I Said So", were co-written with his mother about her experience of the last few years, and of her changing views of what it would mean to die. The repeated theme in part of that song is the line "Here's to a long life, here's to a long life", and Tim asked if we would help him to sing that part in particular. It was deeply moving, and I felt very emotionally connected to him and to the performance as I helped to sing that refrain.

It seemed moving for him as well, especially based on what happened during the next song they played, "Say Something", which is essentially a song about asking for emotional support and connection. Tim was walking along the stage, and people in the front row were reaching their hands towards the stage like usual. Fairly early in the song he walked over towards stage right, took the hand of one guy from the audience and held it tightly. He ended up holding this fan's hand for the rest of the song. Holding it like it was an important thing, like it was a meaningful connection. Again, it made me feel very much connected; this anonymous man represented us as a whole, and it felt like the crowd was holding Tim's hand.

The set list was great. James has such a large repertoire that there are dozens of songs I'd have liked to see performed live, but I was happy with the selections they made. Of course the new album was given preferential treatment with 4 songs, but out of 19 songs that's hardly the lion's share. At one point Tim asked rather sincerely if we were having a good time, since the set they had decided on wasn't just a collection of their big radio hits; he said that they try to make the set fit the city, and they felt like Seattle was a good candidate for the more esoteric set. This, of course, quite pleased our elitist sensibilities. :)

The highlights for me were "Ring The Bells", "Sound", and the absolutely wonderful rendition of "Sometimes" during the encore. During that song there was a period of crowd-only singing of the chorus, which was really powerful. The audience was so very into the show, and feeling so high from the performance, that it felt like everyone was putting all of themselves into the song. When you have a large group of people giving their full, synchronized energy to something, it creates a palpable, and for me, almost spiritual feeling; it's like feeling waves of energy crashing around the venue, washing over and through everyone.

The final song was "Gold Mother", which was always a track I could take or leave. They did a good job of it, though, and pulled some of the audience up on stage to dance for the last few minutes, making the crowd feel involved in the show right up until the end.

I had a wonderful time. I hope that I'll have more opportunities to see James in concert in the future, but if that ends up being the only time, I couldn't be happier with the experience.

Review of "A Tale of Two Cities"

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


As one reviewer stated after watching "The Wrath of Khan": "Now that was more like it". My opinion of Dickens is restored from the blow it took after "A Christmas Carol" ("Star Trek: The Motion Picture", in this analogy).

Like all Dickens I've read, it had that bombastic nature that characterizes a lot of English literature of the time. This tends to make the characters slightly unbelievable, as they are at any time utterly consumed by a single emotion or state of being. That said, this book has some of the most evocative passages I've ever read, particularly when it comes to describing the feeling and character of a society as a whole. I loved the personification of the cities and social classes as individuals.

I was also extremely impressed by Dickens' even-handed view of the French Revolution. He neither glorified nor denounced it, and he neither shied away from the horrors and insanity that characterized it nor discounted its importance and inevitability. He showed it as important, just, and horrific.

Something I always appreciate about Dickens is the fact that he'll inject humor into the most depressing and terrible situations, and will inject subtle horror and discomfort into otherwise light and funny passages. He reminds me of a mid-19th century David Sedaris - or, to be fair, I suppose I should say that in that way David Sedaris reminds me of a modern Dickens. You find yourself simultaneously laughing and disturbed.

My friend referred to this book as funny - personally I think that the word "droll" was all but invented for Charles Dickens.

Plus, as a Star Trek fan, I now hold a deeper appreciation of Star Trek II, which was book-ended by the opening and closing lines of "A Tale of Two Cities"! Only now do I truly appreciate Spock's sacrifice...



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Review of "The Secret Life of Words"

The Secret Life of Words: How English Became English by Henry Hitchings

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This should have been the perfect book for me - I'm a word lover, I love etymology, history, and social anthropology. Although I did enjoy reading it, I have to admit that I did have to force myself a bit to finish it. As many other reviews have noted, the book is exceedingly dry and has very little in the way of a narrative thread to connect the chapters. It feels more like a collection of articles in the same series, which becomes a bit tedious after a couple of hundred pages.

That said, I admit that my copy of this book is littered with dog-ears marking bits of interesting trivia or historical perspective. Many of the actual facts presented really are fascinating, I just wish they weren't presented as a series of facts.

Regarding the author's intellectually playful writing style, I can understand how it might irritate some readers, but I actually did enjoy it. Perhaps it's a bit of elitist pride showing through, but I admit that I did feel good about "getting it". There's a fine line between subtle ironic wordplay and eye-rolling punning, and I think Mr. Hitchings walked it pretty well.

Overall, I guess I'd say that I'm happier having read it than I was while actually reading it.


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Review of "A Christmas Carol"

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


This was a little light. I read this hoping that it would be one of those "everybody knows the story, but actually reading the original is a wholly different experience" books. Nope! It was pretty much identical to the story you know.

Dickens is certainly capable of imbuing his work with depth and subtlety. The fact that there is none to be had here leads me to one of the following two conclusions: the cynical side of me concludes that this was a purely commercial venture, and a very successful one at that; the more hopeful side of me is led to believe that this was essentially a gifted author's Christmas gift to his readers, a nice, easy, simple and positive little story just meant to make people happy.



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Review of "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man"

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: Text, Criticism & Notes by James Joyce

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I am glad that I read the edition of this book that I did, which also contained criticism, notes, and related texts. Not only was the literary criticism very well selected, edited, and arranged, it also genuinely added to the overall experience of the book to be able to see how reactions to it have evolved over the years.

The notes/glossary, though somewhat limited, also helped a great deal. It give definitions of particularly Irish turn-of-the-century idioms and colloquialisms, translates the sometimes copious Latin, and gives context and definition for the many references to the minutiae of the Catholic faith. It also elucidates some of the references to Classical literature and poetry.

Which leads me to the one thing about Joyce that really bothers me: the constant deluge of references. I appreciate the extreme usefulness of references to history and literature: it can instantly provide a complex, sometimes even ineffable backdrop or comparison to the situation. Reference "Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!" from Macbeth, and you call to mind a psychological and situational image with a single stroke that would be difficult or impossible to achieve by direct description.

The problem is that Joyce's references are often obscure, subtle, and essential to fully understanding the story. Without a concordance of some sort, Stephen's climactic shout of "Nothung!" in Ulysses - referencing a hero's sword from Wagner - would be utterly meaningless to me. References to the historic and theological differences between small groups of Catholic sub-sects would have been completely lost on me.

That said, James Joyce is unassailably a literary genius. He himself said that he could "justify every word in my book"; in my opinion anything other than a fully engaged reading of every word results in missing some nuance, some subtlety that was there by intention. It can be a bit daunting, since it all but guarantees that one will indeed miss a great deal of nuance and subtlety in the course of reading this book. At the same time, that can be said of most great works of art, in my opinion. It is the reason that continually studying them continually yields rewards.

I am both looking forward to and apprehensive about reading Ulysses.


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