Michael York read this classic, and I doubt he read and loved it as a child. He reads it as if to a child --- the same is true of Derek Jacobi's reading of "Voyage of the Dawn Treader." So if you want this audio book for a child, that's fine. If you want it for you, it lacks depth. More could have been gotten out of it.
The best reading of C.S. Lewis I have found so far is Kenneth Branagh reading "The Magician's Nephew," the first in the Narnia storyline. In my opinion, it's a labor of love: he loved it as a child and really knows the book and how to read it.
This is a prepper book with the slightly unusual twist that the United States collapses from a financial disaster, not an EMP pulse or nukes or terrorism or epidemic or zombies. That's a good idea, and is why I bought it.
However, this so-called novel is poorly written and read aloud worse. Even more of a problem is the lack of focus: the author can't restrain himself just to rant about U.S. entitlement spending and lack of civilian private prepping --- he has to carry on about abortion and about wifely obedience and the Second Amendment and on and on. Supposedly Christian riffs occur frequently, including long, long Bible quotes. But how Christian can it be with the continual emphasis on preparing with multiple guns to kill people? And the gloating over how many are going to die because they depended on the government to provide them with everything. In this story the entire society breaks down as soon as the government food stamp credits are not fully renewed the first of one month. No waiting, not even a day, riots and looting and murders and robbery break out instantly. Implausible. This book is one long gloat about how well Our Hero is going to do because he's All Wise and super-prepared and how dead everyone else is going to be, especially all the you-know-who's, the ethnics one and all. There are good TEOWAWKI books and good prepper books. But this isn't one of them.
In many ways, this was a good survey of the Enlightenment: provocative ideas, interesting narratives. I stuck it out till the last three hours, in fact.
There are two problems, from my point of view: first, Prof. Kors has the strongest Brooklyn accent I expect to hear in this lifetime, so stabilized has spoken language become through movies and television. The worst of it is that he inhales the word "human," breathing the "h" in, not out, and the word human shows up ALL the time in enlightenment studies.
The second problem is that he preaches. I don't mean he pushes an agenda: he doesn't. I mean he preaches like the Southern radio preachers of my childhood, getting more and more excited, falling into a rhythm. Since so much of the series is about religion, in one form or another, Prof. Kors has to periodically remind people that he is not advocating --- he says he is trying to communicate the excitement the ideas had at the time. Sounds like preaching to me, though, and I didn't like it.
Eventually I decided I couldn't enjoy this anymore, stopped the audiobook and ordered a book on the Enlightenment to read. One thing about reading, whatever the author's verbal peculiarities, they won't be a problem.
Magician King is the second volume in the Magicians trilogy. Mark Bramhall does a perfect reading, getting the tone of mildly exasperated irony exactly right. This volume indulges fully in the Narnia knock-off, Fillory; the first one, The Magicians, starts as a Hogwarts and Harry Potter pastiche populated by young adults but segues into what the characters really want: they want Narnia, and they get it. The references to all the C.S. Lewis Narnia stories are deft and delightful and thought-provoking: this work is deeper than it looks and for someone who has read all the Narnia stories over and over, there is only one thing to do when reaching the end of the Magician King: start over again.
These police procedurals are amazingly good --- John Verdon is going to be big. The main characters, who carry over in a series, are very complex; the language is beautiful, and there are CONCEPTS, wonderful ideas, original thinking. The crime puzzles are so -- puzzling -- that one is drawn right in. The dramatic situations become believable, somehow, as mystery piles onto mystery. This is not the usual boring serial killer schtick. It's original and thrilling serial killer plot.
Unfortunately, this volume is read by Scott Brick. I swore never to get another one read by him, and it was an accident -- his ever-downward voice makes me think of d-words: dire, down, drear, death, doom. Every sentence has a histrionic, overly emotional tone that I wouldn't think men would like, but he does a lot of men's books, like Coben. He must have a darn good agent! is all I can think. The producers have figured it out and the third Verdon is read by someone else. All three current novels by Verdon are read by different readers, so these are books that have not found their voice yet.
Nothing like this ever was ---- a novel published in 1897 that prefigured powered flight, space travel, poison gas, lasers, and alien invasion from outer space. This is a short, exciting novel vividly read by the great reader Simon Vance, and I recommend people listen to it rather than read it: Vance makes it much more exciting than one can do reading silently to oneself. Every detail of the story was interpreted in modern terms in the Tom Cruise War of the Worlds movie and it's a lot of fun to listen to this book and then watch the movie and consider the parallels: the fleeing population, the loud moaning tripod-machines, the blackbirds at the end. The movie vividly illustrates the Martian takeover exactly as the book describes it in all its living red color. I appreciate the respectful homage paid by Hollywood to this great pioneering scifi story.
Our hero is quietly reading his paper at breakfast when news comes of a big crater splashed into the nearby Common from something large falling out of the sky. Many people go to see, and watch as a large cylinder unscrews at the top and strange beings emerge. A deputation arrives to parley, but talk is not what the Martians are after. Very bad things start to happen to the people, the town, London, and the countryside. More and more cylinders fall to Earth from Mars. A few people survive, but only by chance and only temporarily. It is the planet Earth itself that rejects the invaders.
The same reader, Robert Whitfield, did this unabridged Gormenghast as read the first volume, Titus Groan. His reading is brilliant, in my opinion: this is of course a very difficult book to read well, as it's experimental fiction on the order of Ulysses and it is a form of poetry in prose: note the very careful choice of every word, for the dire, the scary, the unsettling. The plot is vivid and full of action, but could be told in a third the words: but the words are the point. So enjoy them. This book is not about the plot, exciting though that is. It's not about the characters, fascinating though they are. It's about the second-by-second elaborate description of the experience.
There is a production problem that did not occur in Titus Groan: I counted eleven times when the reader repeated whole sentences, having apparently stopped, taken a break, and then went on repeating from the top of the paragraph. Obviously the editor should have edited out the repeats!! Bad production not to bother. It should be done right and reissued. However, it's still a very good rendition and well worth hearing.
The conclusion is highly satisfying and there is no need to go on to the post-mortem third volume cobbled together from notes on the author's desk. I would advise first reading the two works, then listening to them, and finally watching the excellent BBC movie starring John Rhys Meyer as Steerpike. It's a star-studded cast: you will be surprised at the important actors you recognize. They stay very close to the text, though it must have been hard to make, given the spectacular scenery and events.
Farthing seems at first to be a comfortable English country house mystery. It quickly becomes unusually candid about toxic relationships, however. Our heroine, Lucy, heiress to all the money of a very large and historic English estate, hates her mother, and it becomes apparent that she is right to do so. She also has married a Jew, and this in an England twisted out of the shape it has in our world by an early peace settlement in 1941. The war did not last five years and Hitler was not defeated. Instead, the Rudolf Hess flight to Scotland in May 1941, widely believed by many to this day, including me, to have been a separate peace offer from Hitler (it is, after all, what Hess claimed at the time!) was in that alternative reality taken up by a clique called the "Farthing set" which out-maneuvered Winston Churchill, who intended to fight on and would have squelched the initiative and jailed Hess as a madman as in our reality. The best alternative histories have that one tiny change that is plausible: England ended the war early, in 1941, with the Farthing slogan "Peace With Honor" after a short negotiation with Hitler. The resonances with the earlier real-time appeasement by Chamberlain in Munich are obvious, and add to the plausibility.
The war continues in Russia for many years and Jews are persecuted all over central and eastern Europe, and are losing ground in England, which had a substantial Fascist constituency before WWII and does again, since that was never defeated. An apparent murder at Farthing by Jews and a terrorist attack on Farthing by Bolsheviks puts Lucy's husband David right in the crosshairs, where he is intended to be. Can they escape? The chapters alternate between Lucy's narration and that of Inspector Carmichael, and so the producers have used two readers, a woman and a man. The woman reader uses the sad, falling-voice technique that I felt was a problem in the reading of Hillary Mantel's "Wolf Hall," too. After all, much of the life of Thomas Cromwell went very well. And Lucy Kahn is a more resolute than sad heroine. The male reader is excellent and the female one is quite good except for that one habit. This novel is sexually complex, but there is no explicit sexual description whatsoever; it's mainly characterization. I think this novel would be very suitable for late teens and any age after that.
Lucy Eversley married David Kahn partly as adolescent rebellion at the stultified, restricted life she leads in the ultra-upper-class: even she realizes there is a component of rebellion. However, it's a real marriage: they fill out each other's lacks and they are extremely supportive of each other. She wants children and believes she is pregnant and is very happy about that. Therefore, the reader is both aghast and amused at the surprise she gets in the end: Lucy is definitely going to be paying her dues now and having an interesting life.
I recommend Farthing strongly and plan to listen to the other two "Small Change" novels in the series.
Riddle of the Sands was published in 1903, 11 years before WWI started, but it is redolent with the suspicion between Germany and other countries that circulated at that time and resulted, finally, in the Great War. The Riddle is that our two young spies gradually realize that Germany is planning an invasion of England via the low-water tributaries in the Frisian islands, pulling low-draft troop carriers among the natural channels through the sands . The places named are real and you can follow the plot on Google Earth.
Anton Lesser does a superb reading, and reads with the tones of a young man, which is crucial, because while the plot and action are gripping, the characterization and character development is just as beautifully and humorously written, and this is why it seems to me almost a crime to settle for an abridged version of this classic. You won't regret listening to the original.
Our narrator, Carruthers, is a rising young star in the Foreign Office, and when he reluctantly boards the Dulcibella, he is deeply disappointed that it is not the stylish, elegant yacht with crew that he had dressed and packed for. He is a prig, and no sailor, and both faults get well and truly reformed during this story as he grows up, learns to sail, and finds his place in the world -- because however "at sea" he may feel in a boat, Carruthers has talent and courage as a spy on land that make the reader feel he would be wasted in the Foreign Office.
Of course there is a beautiful girl. And a dubious father. And Germans, nice and otherwise, whose accents Lesser performs convincingly. Best of all, there is a VIP who comes to inspect how well the invasion plans are working out. This is "he who insists" on coming.
SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER
"He who insists" is the Kaiser. Kaiser Wilhelm II, ruler of Germany, avid yachtsman, committed to building up Germany's navy. The idea that Germany might invade England is hardly remarkable: most wars involve the aggressing Continental power considering it very carefully, or actually doing it. The last ones were Napoleon and Hitler, both of whom made elaborate plans for invasion, but never actually carried them out. Eleven years after this book came out, Germany used its navy to try to starve England out via U-Boots sinking ships carrying imports, rather than invasion. But in the meanwhile this book, Riddle of the Sands, resulted in some large changes in the British navy basing, because in fact, the plan was plausible.
The most delightful moment in the book, to me, is when Carruthers, needing a quick exit from his hiding place, not only wrecks the Kaiser's boat, but also gets him to help cast off the dinghy he's in so he can row away. He gives brusque orders in the confusion of running the boat aground, and as a yachtsman used to quick hands-on sailing, the Kaiser obeys him!
There is a Michael York movie of this book which is excellent and fairly close to the original.
There are two abridged versions of "Titus Groan," but get the unabridged --- because the words are the point, not the plot. There is a clear plot, and the action is also clear. But it's the dark, seductive, carefully mined and honed words that matter. Robert Whitfield is a brilliant reader, and like the best readers he plainly actually understands this book better than I did the first time I read it, and can communicate that understanding. "Titus Groan" is a parody, harsher than Dickens, perhaps Thackerian would be fair. The parody attacks useless, empty traditions of class-based aristocracy, and on its own terms, not the terms of any sort of from-below social revolution such as communism. The parody is funny, incredibly: wait for the climax at the end when the baby Titus goes through the ceremony of "earling" and casually disposes of all the elaborate symbols of his office.
The hero, Steerpike, is an anti-hero, even a villain. But that's nothing: all the characters, 100%, are anti-characters. There is not a straight type that we expect among them. The doctor may be the only one with a good character, and possibly Mrs. Slag and Fuchia the sister, but all of them are not merely eccentrics, they are grotesques. I don't see how anyone could have done Prunesquallor the doctor better than the reader Whitfield read him. That was a difficult challenge for an actor-reader, but he achieved it, delightfully.
The action and the plot are vivid and murderous and also grotesque. The famous setting, the many-storied stone castle that goes on for miles and miles and miles as its own self-contained world, is so original that it has been used by others: perhaps by C.S. Lewis in "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe," as the professor's house, and certainly by Tad Williams in his brilliant "Otherland." as one of the virtual sci-fi worlds the characters find themselves inside.
This book is worth reading before you hear it. Note the carefully ominous word choice: the words are invariably the ones that would unsettle us. On the next order of composition, the phrases are dire even when their individual words are blameless. I assume Peake was a fan of Lovecraft, but this is not an exercise in the supernatural or in horror from the outside. Gormenghast Castle is its own world and if there is horror, no one there notices, because that is how they expect to live. I highly recommend this brilliant book with Whitfield's illuminating reading.
These are jangly old radio performances "based on" M.R. James stories. Derek Jacobi just says a few words at the beginning. I bought this audiobook because I thought he was actually reading the stories and that would have been great. These are scripts with various actors taken loosely from the stories and they are not very good, I thought, and hard to follow. I think the description of this offering should be rewritten, as it is credited to Jacobi, but he has very little to do with it.
Report Inappropriate Content