An Elderly Lady Is Up to No Good (Helene Tursten)

An Elderly Lady Is Up to No Good
The Elderly Lady series, Book 1
Helene Tursten, translated by Marlaine Delargy
Soho Crime
Fiction, Collection/Humor/Mystery
*** (Okay)

DESCRIPTION: Maud may be nearing her ninth decade, and her hair may have long ago gone snow white, but she's still spry enough to travel, sharp enough to live alone, and clever enough to handle her own problems... even if solving them requires an inconvenient murder now and again. In this collection of short stories, Maud deals with a pushy neighbor, a greedy antiques dealer, and other difficulties.

REVIEW: The description sounded light and darkly amusing, a woman with serial killer tendencies who gets away with crime because nobody suspects the little old lady (a little old lady who can fake feeble-minded dithering and elderly infirmity well enough to fool trained detectives). The stories themselves, however, never really clicked for me, often feeling long and meandering and overstuffed with backstory, plus there's a certain sameness that settles in early on: Maud is quietly going about her own life when some irritation crops up, she decides murder is the easiest solution, she does the murder, and goes on with her life. (I don't consider it a spoiler when that's pretty much the description of the whole collection, any more than it's a spoiler in a Columbo episode who the murderer is.) The victims, of course, generally deserve punishment (even if murder is a bit intentionally extreme), so she's more or less doing Sweden a favor by dealing with them, but she doesn't feel a shred of remorse, or really much of anything beyond her own wants or needs. There's also a weird and unpleasant vibe to a couple of stories here that blunted the humor of the overall premise for me. The collection is exactly what it promises, but it just wasn't my cup of cocoa and I mostly just wanted it to end so I could get on to some other audiobook.

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Same as Ever (Morgan Housel)

Same as Ever: A Guide to What Never Changes
Morgan Housel
Portfolio
Nonfiction, Business/History/Human Psychology
**** (Good)

DESCRIPTION: It's not hard to find evidence that the world is going crazy lately. Political strife, income disparity, pandemics, floods of lies drowning truth and facts... the list goes on an on. While these are doubtless perilous times, they are far from entirely unprecedented. Business writer Morgan Housel digs into the past to put the present in perspective, finding a surprising number of basic ideas and truths that never seem to change.

REVIEW: With so much bombarding us with fear and gloom, this book seemed like a possible antidote for, or at least partial check on, the downward spiral. By looking back on other "unprecedented" times, Housel does indeed offer a bit of comfort (if mildly cold comfort; as much as pure pessimism is unwarranted, pure optimism's at least as self-deceptive) that what we're going through now isn't completely dissimilar to what humanity has gone through before. As the saying goes (often attributed to Samuel "Mark Twain" Clemens), history doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes. While the details and specifics vary, society's reactions and human psychology remain the same. Greed and innovation, ambition and caution, selflessness and selfishness, the attractiveness of a compelling but potentially misleading story over solid but uninteresting or intimidating truths, all these and more have followed our species since long before prehistory, and will almost certainly continue with us as long as our species persists; indeed, the author uses evolution to demonstrate several concepts he presents in this book, such as how generalism often beats out specialization and how niches are constantly in flux, no life form guaranteed a perpetual pass from needing to adapt or die.
Housel does not offer specific predictions, as there are too many variables and too many times major events have hinged on the unanticipated and unquantifiable, but offers ways to reframe one's viewpoint to a more rational and less reactionary stance. Yes, there are plenty of things to worry about, but there is also some valid cause for cautious optimism. The focus tends to be on the business and financial side of things, which does lend itself to a few potential blind spots (in particular, I think he glossed over the potential problems of environmental and climate shifts, not to mention future competition for fresh water on a scale I don't think our species has faced), plus he has a way of glossing over the very real pitfalls and long-term costs of poverty. Overall, though, Housel presents an interesting and well-researched call for, if not complete calm, at least some hesitation before chalking our world and civilization up as a lost cause.

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The Assassination of Brangwain Spurge (M. T. Anderson and Eugene Yelchin)

The Assassination of Brangwain Spurge
M. T. Anderson and Eugene Yelchin, illustratons by Eugene Yelchin
Candlewick
Fiction, YA? Fantasy/Humor
***+ (Okay/Good)

DESCRIPTION: The elf Brangwain Spurge was named for a weed, and his schoolmates and colleagues have never let him forget it. Like the weed, they consider him useless at best and a target at worst... until the Elf King needs an "ambassador" to take a special gift to the goblin kingdom, an overture of peace after their most recent war (and, not incidentally, do some light spying on the side), and historian Spurge's name comes up. This, at last, is his opportunity to prove himself, and become the first elf to set foot in the goblin capital city in ages. Unfortunately for him, his mission is really a ruse: the gift he's bringing has been bespelled, turning it into a bomb meant to assassinate King Ghohg the "Evil One" (and take out a good chunk of the capital city of Tenebrion, beyond the Bonecruel Mountains)... hopefully eliminating the expendable historian in the blast. All Spurge is told is that he's supposed to report back to the royal elfin secret police in the Order of the Clean Hand via magical messages, especially if he gets a chance to study the inner workings of the goblins' mysterious Well of Lightning that powers their magic.
In Tenebrion, the goblin archivist Werfel is beside himself with excitement. He, of all people, has been chosen to host and escort an elfin historian! This will surely be a landmark visit, a chance to establish true diplomatic ties and show the elves that, contrary to what they think, goblins have a rich and complex culture. Surely an educated man like this fellow Brangwain Spurge will be above the prejudices that have driven so much hatred and bloodshed, and together they can begin clearing away the centuries of lies and misunderstandings between their kingdoms. But the visit gets off on the wrong foot from the moment of the ambassador's disastrous arrival, and Spurge proves singularly uninterested in everything Werfel tries to share: the cuisine, the theater, the music, the art, not even the city's excellent history museums with the shed skins of goblin luminaries of ages past. (The elf even seems repulsed by how goblins save and treasure their old skins, the essence of a goblin's history. And he claims to be a historian!) If he messes up this most important mission, the goblin secret police will have him imprisoned, and King Ghohg will no doubt order his execution.
Little do either man know just what their seemingly ill-fated meeting will lead to, a snowballing cascade of mishaps and misunderstandings and betrayals that may end with both of their nations toppled and themselves killed very, very dead.

REVIEW: A humorous skewering of an age-old fantasy trope that asks pointed questions about where history ends and propaganda begins and whether truth can ever really be known once everyone has put their own spin on facts, this seemed like a fun, short story, if one clearly skewed heavily toward the silly end of the scale. Unfortunately, like Werfel's first encounter with Spurge, my encounter with The Assassination of Brangwain Spurge got off on the wrong foot when I chose the wrong medium - an audiobook - to explore what is actually a heavily illustrated short novel... one where entire illustrated chapters tell at least half of the story (a half that, focusing on Spurge's experiences and perceptions, conflicts greatly with the text, which is largely from Werfel's vantage point), and where the promised "bonus" PDF link with said illustrations was nowhere to be found until I did some serious digging around online for other sources.
Since my experience was mostly via Werfel's tale, with a few missives from an elf in the Order of the Clean Hand (who was a former school bully of unpopular Spurge), I came into the story predisposed to side with the goblins. The archivist's excitement at meeting an elfin colleague and hopes for world-changing success are almost immediately dashed as Spurge turns out to be a singularly unlikable and utterly undiplomatic jerk who is determined to offend and belittle and reject everyone and everything Werfel introduces him to. He never even tries being neutral or even simply polite. The image-based messages Spurge sends back to the Order of the Clean Hand reflect his perceptions of the goblins and their city as grotesquely monstrous entities, which doesn't exactly help present him as remotely sympathetic (even though I didn't actually see said images or messages until long after I'd listened to the audiobook at work). I got very annoyed by how Werfel kept going out of his way to extend the elf credit where none was due, risking his own reputation and honor and even life to defend a man determined to ruin his life and any proper chance for peaceful, diplomatic ties... except when he didn't and was merely in over his head, whiplash moments that never really tracked even in a plot as inherently silly as this. Further and further Werfel and his beloved bat-winged and betentacled pet get pulled into deeper and deeper trouble while Spurge cluelessly (or maliciously? It's hard to believe even the silliest elf can't recognize some of the lines he's deliberately stepping over... I was half-expecting him to wipe his rear with his host's old skins, and he wouldn't have even pretended it was a faux pas) makes everything worse for the both of them. It's only much, much later that things get so intolerably bad for them that Spurge finally, belatedly begins to get the slenderest microfiber of a clue and return some of the loyalty Werfel has been demonstrating all along, eventually stepping up to the challenges of the problems he helped create (and/or was too dumbly blinded by his own race's propaganda-littered idea of history to begin to see as it developed). Along the way, the authors work in some sharp observations and commentary on how prejudices and injustices are intentionally perpetuated by a handful of power holders, which the majority pay for in their own blood and lives whenever things boil over. Things eventually come to a reasonably satisfactory ending.
While there are many points to appreciate in this tale, and elements that came close to raising the rating, ultimately my too-long frustration with Spurge (and also with Werfel for bending himself into a goblin pretzel trying to excuse the elf's rude and moronic misbehavior and deliberate disparaging of all things goblin - and I'm well aware that's a goodly portion of the point of the book, though there comes a time when a point becomes less a point and more a skull-crushing sledgehammer) held things down.

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The Survivors of the Chancellor (Jules Verne)

The Survivors of the Chancellor: Diary of J. R. Kazallon, Passenger
Jules Verne
Tantor Audio
Fiction, Adventure/Thriller
***+ (Okay/Good)

DESCRIPTION: In late September of 1869, Mr. Kazallon sought passage from South Carolina across the Atlantic to Liverpool - and, on a whim, decided to forego the newer steam liners in favor of an older sailing ship. He had a favorable impression of the vessel Chancellor in the harbor, and though Captain Huntly might not have been the most inspiring leader, First Mate Curtis seemed more than capable. Thus, on the 27th, Kazallon and seven other passengers, as well as a crew of twenty, set forth to cross the ocean.
They would not see land again for over seventy days... and some would never see land at all.
From the start, a dark star seems to hang over the voyage when Huntly inexplicably steers the Chancellor south, toward the Caribbean, rather than northeast toward England. From there, troubles compound through fire, storm, mutiny, and worse, until Kazallon's whim in the harbor seems more like a curse, or even a death wish.

REVIEW: It's been a bit since I tried a classic, and I do try to vary my reading diet (audiobooks count as reading), so I figured I'd try this title. Jules Verne is known more for his classic titles that are considered foundational science fiction, but this has little of the fantastical about it, being a straight-up, if harrowing, tale of a disaster at sea.
It starts a trifle slow (not unusual for its era) as the narrator Kazallon describes the ship and names his fellow passengers and some of the more notable crewmen. From the start, it forebodes trouble with his less than favorable impression of Captain Huntly, a man who seems listless or perhaps on the verge of some mental collapse; his decision to sail a ship bound for England south from South Carolina is but the first in a string of questionable decisions, though First Mate Curtis refuses to step in unless the vessel is actually endangered by the captain. At first, it seems like Huntly's unusual navigational choices aren't enough to do lasting harm, or might actually be part of some real agenda by the man; they're almost to a port in the Caribbean when the first disaster - a fire in the cotton bales that form the bulk of the cargo - flares up, quickly followed by a storm, and things only get worse from there. Throughout the disasters, Kazallon records the events and how the various people - crew and passenger alike - either rise to the occasion or sink into their own despair. The pacing is, as mentioned, of its era, and between bursts of high drama and action things slow down somewhat as everyone is forced to deal with the aftermath and brace for whatever is to come next... and there is indeed always something else coming next, either from the world at large or from fractures forming among themselves.
For all that things move reasonably well, Verne's prose bringing to life in fine detail the terror and the misery of the ill-fated voyage, it can't help being of its era. There are a total of two women on board, a wealthy oil magnate's wife and a young attendant, who embody the too-common ways women in older fiction are so often reduced to caricatures or icons - the petty, spoiled and shrewish "demon" versus the young and comely and endlessly faithful and patient "angel" - rather than actual people, to the point where I wonder if Verne or other authors actually conversed much with those beyond their own gender or saw them as some vaguely related other species whose ways and minds were unknowable. A few other unfortunate stereotypes permeate the cast, too. Toward the end, Verne seems to be mostly twisting the knife as the situation becomes more and more dire among the dwindling number of survivors, and a few elements had a touch of illogic or plot convenience about them (which I won't venture into because they might constitute spoilers). I also found the very ending and wrap-up a touch rushed, all negatives enough to shave a half-point off the rating.

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Inkling (Kenneth Oppel)

Inkling
Kenneth Oppel
HarperCollins
Fiction, MG Fantasy/Humor
**** (Good)

DESCRIPTION: Ethan Rylance's mother passed away two years go, and nothing has gone right since. His father used to be one of the most sought-after comic book creators in the industry, but he hasn't touched his pens since Mom died, and some days can't be bothered to climb out of bed, let alone deal with his children. Ethan's kid sister Sarah, who has Down syndrome, struggles to process her grief and needs more care than a sixth-grade boy can provide. Now, his English class is doing graphic novels as a group project and everyone expects him to do the artwork; given how great his dad is (or was), surely Ethan must be kidding when he insists that he can barely draw a stick figure, though Dad barely had time to try teaching his son art before Mom's death and certainly doesn't have the time or patience now. The Rylances are stuck in a downward spiral of grief and anger... until something strange happens.
One night, the ink from Mr. Rylance's sketchbook comes to life and escapes the pages that trapped it. It feeds on ink and can draw just about anything, and it quickly becomes young Ethan's lifeline when he realizes that it can help him ink a graphic novel that will knock the socks off his entire class. But when other people learn of Inkling and its amazing abilities, Ethan will learn the hard way just how much responsibility comes with a special friend like the living blob of ink... and how much damage it can do if it falls into the wrong hands.

REVIEW: Starring a boy mired in grief and anger and worry over a father who seems to have given up on life and a lively little sapient blob of ink, Inkling uses art and humor to explore grief, hope, and creativity, as well as the dangers of artificial "creativity" that isn't really creative (read: the current flood of theft-based AI). From the moment Inkling escapes the sketchbook, it knows deep down it has a purpose, a reason it leapt to life, though it's very easily distracted by all the wonderful, tasty ink in the Rylance household, learning to "speak" by devouring books and learning art by absorbing (and erasing) illustrations and comic books and any other printed matter it encounters. When Ethan discovers it, and realizes that it can generate art and not just absorb it, he considers it an answer to his prayers: his teammates in English class have been pestering him for his art contributions to their graphic novel project, refusing to believe him when he says that stick figures are the best he can manage (his father was not the most patient teacher even before Mom's death, and since then can barely muster the energy to get through a day out of bed, if that much), and he's been putting them off as long as possible. True, he's supposed to be doing the art himself and Inkling is basing itself heavily on his father's style, but it's not really cheating, is it? He did do the storyboarding with his stick figures for layouts, so Inkling is just sort of helping him out, right? It's not until a friend asks to use Inkling to help him on a history test - absorb his notes and regurgitate answers onto the test page - that Ethan realizes the risks in relying on Inkling so heavily. But by then Sarah has discovered the living ink blob - calling "her" Lucy and insisting it's the pet dog their father has never let them get - and soon Ethan's own father learns what Inkling can do. It feels like the little blob is getting the whole family unstuck from where it's been after Ethan's Mom died, but instead it becomes another crutch... and when someone outside the family and Ethan's friend discovers the little blob, the stakes get a lot higher a lot quicker. The classmate involved isn't a bully or evil, though; she's the daughter of Ethan's dad's publisher, whose business is struggling as their lead creator hasn't produced new works in two years, to the point where she fears they'll lose their home. After all, if Ethan can cheat by having Inkling do all his work for him, why can't her dad use Inkling to do the work that Ethan's dad won't do and save the publishing company? As Ethan works to reclaim his friend, his family must finally confront the grief that has been slowly smothering the life out of them all.
The story moves briskly and is fun, with some deep and emotional moments along with the humor and lightness, as well as a clear appreciation for comic books and human creativity. It also serves as a warning about soulless, derivative AI works pumped out for profit that short-circuit the whole process and completely misunderstand what it is that people enjoy about art and stories, and why people feel the inherent need to create at all. I thought a couple subplots needed a little more fleshing out or resolution, and part of it feels like it wanted to be part one of a longer series, but on the whole it was quite satisfying.

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