Sunday, May 28, 2023

The Daughter of Doctor Moreau, by Sylvia Garcia-Moreno

This book is an interesting intersection of her previous book, Mexican Gothic, and The Island of Doctor Moreau. Moreno-Garcia is retelling the H. G. Wells story with a young female lead, one very similar to Noemi in Mexican Gothic. She is a child of privilege, living the life of an upper-class Mexican girl, but this time the isolation is caused by her father's vivisection experiments. Although you wouldn't have to do it that way now. You could go more steampunk, with Moreau somehow coming up with a CRISPR process.

What I find interesting and compelling about this work is that in writing it Moreno-Garcia seems to be channeling Wells' style in a very period-authentic way, but with a strong female lead who shapes the tale. The book really feels like Wells could have written it with input from a woman. This shows most clearly in the character of Montgomery, the new mayordomo at the hacienda. He is a classic British sort of anti-hero, troubled and self-doubting but highly capable. He, like the other men in the story, shows no sign of 21st-century feminist influence. He is constantly trying to put Carlota in her place. But he reveals his inner life in a way that builds him powerfully as a character.

Carlota's growth from a meek teenager to a young woman rising to the occasion makes her a powerful character as well. Moreno-Garcia takes more time revealing Carlota's depths, with her capabilities maturing in time with the plot.

The move of the experimental facility from an isolated island to the isolated Yucutan peninsula feels very authentic as well. It is not quite as isolated as the island, which gives Moreno-Garcia the opportunity to situate it culturally.

This is about as good as a conscious retelling can get. I can't quite give it 5 stars--maybe because it's so tied to Wells' style that it reads kind of stilted to me in the same way that Wells does now. It's a real achievement and deserving of the attention it's getting.

Friday, May 19, 2023

Babel, by R. F. Kuang

This is an incredible piece of work. The author says it is her most ambitious work yet, and I agree. I thought The Poppy War was pretty good--this book amazed me with Kuang's command of writing and the way it kept me turning pages through a very long volume. In a year where so many of the award-nominated books seem to have very little depth, and that's on purpose, this one goes all out. I come away from reading the novel and the comments of other readers much smarter than I was before.

The book is meticulously set in Oxford, England in the 1830s. The author spends a lot of effort on getting the details right, except for planting the tower of Babel in the middle of Oxford and having silver magic being the driving force behind the Industrial Revolution and colonialism of the time. A spot-on critique of this work is that the power of silver, which would pull it in the direction of a kind of fantasy cyberpunk, instead changes nothing at all--except maybe to create a single point of failure for the British Empire.

The setting is early 19th century Oxford but in every other way the book reads as something written today, with 2021 understanding of racial issues (Not gender. I think Kuang was aware of how much shoehorning it would have taken to include it in some affirming way). So it's not going to be a classic, and is best read as a novel of its time. That time is pretty dark. The protagonists of the story are taken as children from their countries and presented with a life of ivory tower (literally) privilege with no awareness of any other choice. That bubble is broken early on and the description of the shattering process is gripping. The colonialists will never let go of their privilege, and will destroy everything to keep it or at least deny it of other lesser beings.

Britain did release the Jewel in the Crown (India) through the mostly nonviolent resistance led by Ghandi, but there's no hint of that Britain here. The white men of privilege are uniformly vicious and ruthless. The book is in no way subtle. Pretty much a club all the way through. I align with its conclusions on systemic racism but it's fairly recent that this perspective has come to the fore in racial justice. Previous generations of reformers for the most part repeatedly asked for equal treatment by the oppressors unless they were forthright Marxists.

It's a good book, and well worth reading. The expositions on translation are lengthy but never boring, so you come away learning something new. I think the setting held Kuang back. She knows the setting and culture like the back of her hand (degrees from Oxford and Cambridge, studying at Yale) but this turns into a trap. It is a work worthy of deep reading and critique, which is a great achievement in this time when we so desperately want to turn away from what is expressed here.

Nettle and Bone, by T. Kingfisher (Ursula Vernon)

This is really a strong book, very character-driven and the protagonist, Marra, is truly relatable.  The book starts in the middle of Marra performing the three impossible tasks the dust-wife asks of her in exchange for her help dealing with the abusive Prince of the North.  The story in its way is pretty familiar--Marra, the dust-wife (a keeper of cemeteries who can speak to the dead) and her demon-possessed chicken go on a hero's journey to save Marra's sister Kania.  They pick up an unwillingly evil godmother and a heroic knight along the way.  All of these characters are fully developed in the book, and I was attached to them by the time it was finished.  She also scores some solid points on the patriarchy and the pain being imposed.  It's a cozy yet powerful read.  Good stuff.

My Goodreads Review

The Water Outlaws, by S. L. Huang

According to the introduction this book is intended to evoke "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" (thought that title is not explicitl...