Opinions of a Professional Reader
Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1972.
Anvil never really hit the big time, but he was a popular author in the 1970s and ’80s, when he was a regular contributor to ANALOG. His signature style was wry and ironic observations and commentary about those irritating humans, and this novel (his third) is filled with that sort of thing. It’s an original on the “invasion of Earth” theme, in that the Centrans (who somewhat resemble humanoid lions) conquer our planet — but just barely.
NY: Doubleday, 1992.
Terry Pratchett requires no introduction, being one of the most-read authors in English, and for very good reasons. The Discworld novels have a wide, enthusiastic fan base of all ages (including me for many years), but his other books may not be so well known, especially those written specifically, theoretically, for adolescents. Still, being Sir Terry’s work, they’re still very much worth reading — and, naturally, very, very funny.
Continue reading “Pratchett, Terry. Only You Can Save Mankind.”
NY: Putnam, 2013.
Rossoff has become a noteworthy — and award-winning — author of Young Adult novels but this is the first of hers I’ve read. It definitely won’t be the last. Mila is a very bright and almost preternaturally observant twelve-year-old (“If there is something to notice, I will notice it first”) living in London with her translator father and concert-violinist mother. It’s a quietly loving family and she knows just how lucky she is, especially compared to her best friend, whose parents are splitting up. Her father, Gil, is planning to journey to America during the Easter holiday to visit Matthew, an old friend whom he hasn’t seen in eight years, and since he’s not very good at taking care of himself, Mila is going along to keep an eye on him.
NY: Mulholland Books, 2016.
I stumbled on one of this author’s earlier crime novels a few years ago and became an almost instant fan of his rather noir style. He’s a Philadelphian through and through and the seamy side of the city he knows so well becomes a character in his books, too. And this time, he indulges in an unusual sort of narrative strategy.
Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse Comics, 2016.
The first volume, in which we met Hachi Hoshino, orbital garbage man, and the debris-collection crew of which he is a part, was an amazing combination of plot, narrative, characterization, philosophy, and nicely done, very clean art to support it all. The overarching theme there was the preparation for the seven-year exploratory voyage to Jupiter, and Hachi’s determination to be a part of it, no matter what.
Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse Comics, 2015.
It’s 2075 and Earth orbit is just another place to earn a living. Hachirota Hoshino — known to his cohorts as “Hachimaki,” because he often wears one — has been a professional astronaut for three years now, but any lingering romance that might still attach to working in space and living on the Moon has been squelched by the fact that he’s essentially a garbage man. He’s part of the three-person crew of an old, rather junky ship that collects dead satellites, broken-off booster parts, and other debris from the orbital traffic lanes near Earth.
NY: HarperCollins, 2009.
Sadly, this is the last novel about Detective Superintendent Andrew Dalziel and DCI Peter Pascoe of Mid-Yorkshire CID before the author’s death, but it’s not a bad one to be going out with. The story revolves around the very wealthy “Goldie” Gidman, who made his money as a loan shark and financier of organized crime before he eased his way into the straight world of business and Tory politics.
NY: Warner Aspect, 1994.
Everyone says this opening volume of the “Seafort Saga,” which won the Campbell Award, is based heavily on Horatio Hornblower, but those people apparently don’t actually read Napoleonic naval adventures. The set-up is actually much more like Dudley Pope’s first novel featuring Lieut. Nicholas Ramage, in which the youngest and least experienced officer aboard a British warship suddenly finds himself thrust into command in the middle of a crisis. Because that’s what happens here, more or less.
NY: DC Comics, 1997.
Neil is the modern master of the fairy tale, and he writes all kinds, from comic to wistful to thoroughly noir. This one is of the traditional variety, though often with tongue firmly in cheek. Gaiman won a number of awards for this one, and deserved them. Vess won another bunch of awards for the art which greatly enhances nearly every page. He reminds me a little of Arthur Rackham and a lot of Alicia Austin, and that’s praise.
NY: Little, Brown, 2006.
I’ve read a number of the entries in this author’s several highly regarded series of crime novels, all set in Washington, D.C., but this one is a standalone, and it may be his best book yet. Gus Ramone, who is (I think) part-Hispanic and part-Italian, is a sergeant in homicide who loves his job, even while he hates the necessity for it. His wife is a black ex-cop, and that and their two mixed-race kids provide much of the background for Pelecanos’s ongoing commentary about the reality of race relations in the District.
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