Book review: Return from the Stars by Stanislaw Lem

I jump at any Lem I see in the used bookstores.  This was not one I was familiar with, so I took advantage of its availability a couple months ago.

There it sat, on my shelf, ever since this past week.

Reading through it in a few marathon sessions (it's an uncharacteristically light and easy breeze of a read for a Lem novel), I'm mad at myself for waiting so long.

If you know Lem's more serious dramatic works, you will be familiar with the regretful outsider protagonist.  The one that, on top of being completely displaced in a nearly alien world and all of its uncomfortably unfamiliar things and practices, has another world of personal regret and conflict to reconcile with.  Hal Bregg, a near-Superman from the past, must make sense of the doomed space travel mission he has returned to Earth from, but first, he must make peace with a world that "betrizates" itself in order to dull the senses and make people immune from aggressive thoughts and urges.  Robots do everything else.  Cities are built in stacked levels, for which each level has an imaginary sky projected on a huge television screen on the floor of the next level up.  Space travel and research for lifeforms outside of of Earth have now been deemed obsolete and primitive.

This all confronts a man who is physically 30 years old, but technically 140.  He has the guilt of possibly the responsibility of the death of crew members on his conscience.  He has no immediate family.  He is completely isolated and unique (in a now socially awkward way).

Amongst his wanderings back on Earth, Hal is introduced to a shocking new way of life that seems pleasant on the surface, but in actuality, only raises more unrest in a mind that has the remembrance and knowledge that his has.  In typical Lem fashion, you, as the reader, are immediately catapulted into this unfamiliar world, without explanation.  Dialogue is fractured and many things are left open and unexplained.  The feeling of being absolutely lost and engulfed in this magnificent future of mystery and trippy landscapes is imposed immediately on the reader and it's certainly not by accident that there are no shortage of typical Lem-isms — that is, made up words to signify new technology that is commonplace in this future, but that seems completely alien to a contemporary reader.  The numerous ideas and things tossed out at random as ho-hum technologies in the time that this story takes place —the type that would be completely revolutionary if they were to actually materialize— are too many to count.  A short example: optons.  They are essentially an electronic tablet, not that different from a Kindle or an iPad, in which books or other information can be loaded onto for reference later on (Return from the Stars was first published in 1961).

As with all of Lem's works, satirical or serious, this one envelopes the reader in another world entirely.  That this book takes a less "heady" approach (though no less trippy, as the many city scenes from before Hal leaves for Clavestra illustrate), and instead aims for a more emotional landscape is where it wins.  Lem has always been capable of tugging at the deep thinker's heartstrings —Solaris, amidst pages upon pages of nearly incomprehensible technobabble, still somehow manages to be deeply resonating and emotive— but Return is just a master toying with his craft.  That he leaves out no minutiae —I don't think there's a meal that's not accounted for, nor how many words were actually uttered during its discourse— and yet, still manages an emotional finale unmatched in any of the other works of his I've read. . . well, that's pretty impressive.

There's plenty of action, too.  Though, most of it occurs through flashbacks.  Really though, it's the emotional core and how, in the final act, there is not a single mention of any piece of futuristic technology that pushes this one over the top.

In the middle of all this is a world gone mad with betrization.  So much commentary on how people don't truly understand their own impulses and desires before acting on them.  The betrizated society comes into question very early on in the story.  The logistics as to how  real any person walking around actually is if they've been treated to essentially not act like themselves are weighed right up front.  Very loaded.  Typical Lem.

A singular experience and one of his very best works, I'd say.

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Such an inspiring and wonderful work, in fact, that I've been moved to create another podcast containing songs that I feel conjure up moods that this story evokes.  No title for this one, just pure feeling.  Enjoy.

Mix inspired by return from the stars by Austintayeshus on Mixcloud

1)  Brian Eno — 'A Clearing' (1982)
2)  Human League — 'The Path of Least Resistance' (1979)
3)  Red Sparowes — 'A Message of Avarice Rained Down and Carried Us Away to False Dreams of Endless Riches' (2006)
4)  Cocteau Twins — 'Lazy Calm' (1986)
5)  The Durutti Column — 'Falling' (2001)
6)  The Reegs — 'The Nasty Side' (1993)
7)  DJ Shadow — 'Blood on the Motorway' (2002)
8)  Slowdive — 'Changes' (1994)
9)  Sam Prekop — 'November September' (2010)
10)  Eberhard Weber — 'T on a White Horse' (1977)
11)  Kraftwerk — 'Ananas Symphonie' (1975)
12)  Tangerine Dream — 'Invisible Limits' (1976)
13)  Harmonia — 'Almost' (1976)
14)  William Ackerman — 'The Search for the Turtle's Navel' (1977)
15)  Trembling Blue Stars — 'Branches' (2005)
16)  Brian Eno — 'Always Returning' (1983)
17)  Sigur Rós — 'Varðeldur' (2012)
18)  David Sylvian — 'Darkest Dreaming' (1999)

~Austin

Book review: Hard Times by Charles Dickens

I have discrepancies with this particular edition of the book, which I'll address in a moment. That particular score up there is for the story, and not necessarily this particular edition.

Moving on...

A scathing, humanist criticism of the industrial age in northern England and the mass poverty that consumed it, Hard Time takes an interesting point of view in the debate and doesn't necessarily humanize or vilify either side of the equation. Sure, there are baddies and flat out jerks, but they fall on both sides. Ultimately, we, as the reader, are forced to see the good and the bad in everyone. Because of his life on both sides of the equation, it makes sense that Dickens could have seen the good and bad of both sides. I know it seems like I'm harping on the fact that he captures the ups and downs of both realities so well, but damn, the guy is an acknowledged master for a reason.

As for the story, it's a twisting, roundabout suspense in a way. Sure, there's no nail biting moments, but it will be a quick read for most folks, as the story moves quickly and there's not much time for meditations on particular nuances. Sure, it's Victorian literature, but take away some of the period references and traditional speech and it would be hard to tell.

Truly, as this is the first Dickens novel I've read, I see none of the overt schmaltz and sentimentality that he is so often criticized for in this book. The numerous characters are all very distinct, the development is unarguably well thought out and the story is downright engaging. As this was my first Dickens book, I chose it because it's not one of his more well-known classics (on the level of Great Expectations, Tale of Two Cities or A Christmas Carol — though I certainly would like to get to those now). I figured, if I liked one of his second tier works, I would definitely like his more recognized works. And truly, if Hard Times is considered second tier, I am in for some serious masterpieces.

Now, as for this particular Barnes and Noble Classics edition, I must assign a much different rating:

The footnotes and endnotes by Karen Odden are condescending and, in the case of one of the endnotes, spoils a major plot twist roughly one-third of the story before the twist actually happens. I would've been much happier reading through the book without all the completely superfluous extra little bits about allusions to the bible and plot spoilers. As they were brief interruptions, I can overlook them. But if I were ever to reread the book (which is quite likely), I will be skipping all of Ms. Odden's additions.

Overall though, fantastic stuff.

~Austin

Book Review: I'm Really Dragged But Nothing Gets Me Down by Nat Hentoff

After a random thrift store find of this title, it sat around for a long while and I picked it up and breezed through it in a couple of marathon sessions over a couple days. What initially drew me to it was that it was written by a name that I knew from reading loads and loads of liner notes on jazz albums: Nat Hentoff.

Before I get into the ramifications of Hentoff writing this kind of book and the story itself, I should say that I, too, am white and of somewhat privileged background; so there was something for me to latch onto in this story.

Hentoff is white. Like me. He is writing about the perspective of an upper middle class white teenager in the late 60's worried about being drafted into the army at the height of the Vietnam war.

This is an interesting dichotomy. The main character, Jeremy, seemingly has a choice of whether or not he wants to even be considered for the draft. He is pretty much guaranteed entrance into a university, and therefore, immunity from military service. But —and here's the twist— he is staunchly opposed to the war and (at least he claims) would resist even if he was forced into the draft.

The main plot revolves around whether or not Jeremy intends to register for the draft. If he does, he feels as if he has sold his own beliefs out; even knowing that his chances of being sent to Vietnam are virtually nonexistent. If he doesn't, he risks five years in jail, but for what? He wouldn't have gone to Vietnam anyway, so it would have been purely a move to prove his loyalty to his cause (a/k/a 'martyrdom').

And that sums up the book. It is purely a meditation on the perceived wrongs and rights of different opposing positions to the Vietnam war. Through the narrative of Jeremy's experiences over roughly two weeks, we get to hear just about every possible angle on the subject.

I think the most poignant aspect of the book is when Jeremy and his friends go to the poor high school (read: mostly minority) to have a 'meeting of the minds' session of sorts, most of the poor kids are not opposed to —and, in fact, quite excited by— the prospect of going to war. They see it as a step up in society; a way to be respected and make something of themselves. Never, in the entire thing, is it ever a matter of choice for them. Or rather, the choice is: stay at home and be nothing or join the service and be something. A jarring perspective, for sure.

But the main things to keep in mind here are such: this is the perspective of a kid who actually has a choice of going or not going and the general perspective is one that opposes war of all kinds in general.

Although all perspectives are heard from, the really unique thing about the views explored here is that they reflect the war at home more than anything else. In fact, I'd say that's the main theme of the book. It's as if every character has accepted the war for what it is and now they are all fighting with themselves —and each other— in order to deal with the reality and gravity of the situation.

The great thing is: take away the draft and you could apply a lot of the scenarios and sentiments detailed in the book to present day America in regards to Iraq.

Sure, some of the material and the slang has dated by this point, but take that away and you could easily apply these themes to contemporary America.

At a brisk one hundred and twenty-some odd pages, I'm Really Dragged But Nothing Gets Me Down is definitely worth the time if you're not in favor of prolonged, uncertain wars but are also conflicted within yourself about the pros and cons of such situations.

Not a super duper masterpiece, but worthwhile brainfood.

~Austin

Book review: The Shipping News by Annie Proulx

Caught the last half of the film adaptation of this book on cable years ago and have wanted to read it ever since. Well, finally got around to it...




The mood and atmosphere of Newfoundland that Proulx conjures up in her narrative is astounding. Very unsettling and simultaneously fascinating. A wonderful swirl of grey confusion that engulfs and envelopes the reader, fully immersing them into the story's setting: a rare feat fully accomplished.

However, everything else is a mess.

I also do kind of like that you never know the main character's first name -- only the somewhat cursed surname that he will forever be latched onto within a certain demographic.

But sheesh, the sentence fragments are jarring. Even the characters speak in sentence fragments, ferchrissakes! It seems a nice quirk at the outset, but by chapter 30, you'll still just be reading because you've made it this far and there's no use in not finishing it now.

I've no clue what the story is supposed to mean. Seems to me like some sort of modern day pseudo-existential tale of a late blooming man that is so pitiful he eventually becomes semi-likable just because we, as the reader, are in his head so much. This fact and this fact alone: not because he has endearing qualities that reveal themselves over time, not because he grows and becomes a new man, no; simply because we hear about what he's doing and his thoughts about the events constantly. Eventually, whether you like them or not, you start to care in a twisted sort of way.

And this is where the book becomes more of a soap opera than an actual well told tale.

The ending seems extremely forced and quick. After three hundred pages of dully narrated uneventful drudge, hey he falls in love again and the other guy comes back from the dead... within the last few paragraphs.

Uhhhmm, what?

Wow.

If you like the mood and ambiance that Albert Camus and Henry James create through pages of meticulous, well-practiced and worthwhile perfected craft, you will find positive, redeeming aspects in the Shipping News. Otherwise, it's got aspects of that mood, but the actual story is negligible, if not completely forgettable.

~Austin