{"id":494,"date":"2019-06-17T11:38:02","date_gmt":"2019-06-17T16:38:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ldinmanbooks.com\/?p=494"},"modified":"2019-06-17T11:43:11","modified_gmt":"2019-06-17T16:43:11","slug":"monday-gallimaufry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ldinmanbooks.com\/index.php\/2019\/06\/17\/monday-gallimaufry\/","title":{"rendered":"Monday gallimaufry"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Yes, even when I’m on writing sabbath this blog is 100% genuwyne quality content. Starting with thanks to the folks who sent me recs for summer reading — I’ve ordered a few things and look forward to charging my Kindle frequently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One author I like to collect in hard copy, meanwhile, is Ann Leckie, and since I’ve had a critical mass of recs for her new fantasy novel The Raven Tower<\/a>, I went ahead and bought it to read over the weekend. I was not disappointed. One of the things I appreciate so much about Leckie — apart from the commitment to pushing the frontiers of how we treat gender in SFF and the interrogation of domination systems in fine, spare prose — is the internal consistency of her inventions. Every McGuffin has a firm solidity, every world has a margin outside the frame of the story. And she knows how to surprise. I wasn’t expecting to enjoy a story written in the second person — strictly speaking, second person isn’t really a POV, as it assumes (as this story does) a first-person narrator to focus on that second person. The character in focus is a trans man; and Leckie is an example to any writer wanting to do representation right, because that fact, while it presents complications in some situations, isn’t what the story is about, nor does Eolo have anything less than an individual take on his own identity. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I also appreciate reading the kind of story that I also prefer to write — one in which the final reveal is not a sprung surprise but a culmination of what is in plain view. The Raven Tower<\/em>, perhaps appropriately, has a plot like granite — disparate events being gradually drawn and fused by great pressures — and the final tableau is satisfying as any parable should be, with a stone-like chill to tickle the reader’s spine with. Altogether I would say that for me this book was not as life-changing a read as Ancillary Justice<\/em>, but easier to bond with than Provenance<\/em>. I give it an unreserved rec.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In other news, a friend from my community, on hearing that I’d taken up photography, offered to send me an extra camera of his — gratis, as he was in the process of decluttering his house. To my shocked pleasure, what arrived in a box for me the following week was a very fine never-used Lumix with an all-in-one telephoto lens. I’ve been practicing with it, and went out on Saturday to photograph fountains, with really satisfying results.<\/p>\n\n\n\n