Book Review : Anne McCaffrey - The Rowan (The Tower and the Hive, I)

I must admit I decided to read The Rowan for two reasons. Firstly, I had never read anything by McCaffrey and secondly, judging by the curious looking cat on the cover of my second-hand hardcopy, I figured that the story featured a feline character of sorts. 

Well, there is a feline in the book - a precious barque cat, to be precise. True to their independent nature, however, it abandons its owner - Altair's most gifted telepathic inhabitant, the Rowan aka Angharad Gwyn - halfway through the story. 

Anne McCaffrey - The Rowan, ACE / Putnam, C.P. Putnam's Sons, New York, 1990, Cover Art: Romas (Romas Brandt Kukalis)

Sadly, as soon as my main motivation for reading the novel was evicted from the story line, my interest in the rest of the book declined rapidly. In the end I decided to abandon it for a while and read something else instead. When I resumed reading this morning, I couldn't help wondering why this book ever got written, let alone published. To be fair, there are another five books in the Tower and Hive series and reading them might provide an answer. Yet, I simply was not drawn in enough, so it's unlikely I will pick any of the sequels any time soon.

The Rowan is the life story of McCaffrey's character of the same name, an orphaned and extremely gifted telepath from planet Altair. Growing up in one of Altair's remote mining communities, the Rowan loses her entire family in a mudslide and is rescued thanks to her ability to project her excruciating cries for help telepathically. 

As her wailing is picked up by the authorities, the child is saved and eventually taken care of by a foster mother. Being extraordinarily gifted, she receives training in all things telepathy and telekinesis from Altair's prime telepath, Siglen, under the watchful eye of  T-1 Earth Prime, Reidinger. The Rowan child is destined to become one of FT&T's T-1 primes, one day to be in charge of her very own tower on another planet.

Altair is a mining planet and vital supplier of raw materials destined for Earth. All cargo leaving and arriving on the planet is transported with the help of telepaths with telekinetic abilities, also known as the T-1 Primes. Human space travel underlies the same telekinetic principles. With the entire logistics of all planetary existence hinging on the exchange of raw materials between Earth and its colonised planets, the most gifted telepaths are crucial for the continued operation of this supply chain and thus assume a somewhat privileged position in society.

Part one of the series sketches the Rowan's life from the early tragedy of losing her parents to becoming herself a T-1 Prime, and eventually wife to Jeff Raven, and mother of their son, Jeran.  Oh yeah, and I forgot....! The Primes get to fight a telepathic space assault against an invasion of alien enemy beetles in defence of Deneb, Jeff's home planet. 

I'm not sure which target audience this book is aimed at. Perhaps, McCaffrey wrote it with a teenage audience in mind, given that most of the positive reviews I have found come from readers with book nostalgia, revisiting a favourite teenage read. The telepathic love story between the Rowan and Jeff may well appeal to a younger audience. 

Though the plot is well paced, I simply couldn't relate to the characters in the book. They all remained more or less remote to me. The technical aspects of the story, i.e. mainly telekinetic transportation and telepathic communication, didn't overwhelm. This is a bonus for all those who enjoy a less technical sic-fi novel. Yet, the concept of super-talented telepaths shunting space ships around with the mere power of their minds appears a trifle far-fetched. I didn't enjoy McCaffrey's writing style all too much in this one, but I haven't been put off completely. One day, I'm sure, I will give the Pern series a go. 

Brother Cadfael Goes Knitting - Knitted Monk Exhibition at Tewkesbury Abbey

I know, fictional Cadfael resided at Shrewsbury Abbey, but I couldn't resist the header.

These guys are currently on display in a Knitted Monk exhibition at Tewkesbury Abbey (Gloucester, UK). More information is available here. 

What's best, there is a free knitting pattern, which can be accessed here.. I'm sure donations are very welcome. :-). 

Knitted Monk Exhibition at Tewkesbury Abbey

So, now there are really no excuses not to knit your very own Cadfael...or even a whole monastery...

Happy 50th, Baby Satan! - Rosemary's Baby turns 50 in 2018: Summary and Review of Ira Levin's 1968 Novel

First published in 1968, Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby will celebrate its fiftieth birthday in 2018. A good reason to start celebrating and tick this book off the 'to-read' queue.  

I expect that most readers of the genre are either familiar with Polanski's film adaptation, have read Levin's novel or, indeed, both. Not much needs to be said about the plot. A quick summary can be found below.

Bloomsbury 2002 Paperback edition of Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby, featuring the artwork created for the release of Roman Polanski's film adaptation of the same name.

Quick Plot Summary

Rosemary Woodhouse becomes the victim of a satanic conspiracy, perpetrated against her by both her neighbours and her husband, Guy. The book starts off with Guy and Rosemary house hunting for a rental property in the Bramford, a sought-after apartment complex in a well-to-do New York City neighbourhood. Having secured a flat in Rosemary's dream apartment, she and Guy, an up and coming television actor, make friends with their neighbours in the building, Minnie and Roman Castevet. Guy becomes ever more attached to the elderly couple, his acting career is taking off and Rosemary falls pregnant with their first baby. All in all, joyful times. 

But all is not as it seems and cracks are apparent from the start. Rosemary feels controlled by the Castevets, her marriage to Guy becomes strained for similar reasons, she finds herself subjected to patronising behaviour and has to endure an extremely painful pregnancy. She eventually starts to take control and connects the dots thanks to a mysterious book on witchcraft and satanism bequeathed to Rosemary by her recently deceased friend and surrogate father, Hutch. Yet, the Bramford conspirators remain ahead of the game, usurping and preempting all her efforts to escape the situation.

As Roemary’s friends and family are either cut off or killed off by the Bramford coven, she is completely isolated by the time she eventually goes into labour. Despite her newborn initially being removed from her, Rosemary goes on a hunt for her son and locates him in the midst of a gathering of satanists in the Castevet’s flat. Finally allowed to face her devilish offspring for the first time, Rosemary succumbs to her maternal instincts, accepting her role as mother of Baby Satan, who comes suitably equipped with tail, horns and claws.

Rosemary's Baby: Book vs Film 

Polanski, who wrote the screenplay for the film adaptation of Rosemary's Baby, is often credited with having created one of the most faithful adaptations in cinematic history. This is understandable, given that Levin's book reads like a screenplay. According to Polanski, it took merely one month to adapt Levin's novel.

When reading the descriptions of the apartment and its decor, I was immediately reminded of Polanski's film, of which I can only remember fragments. Not recollecting the film's entire plot I remained interested in Levin's novel throughout. Reading the book ended up fulfilling a purely utilitarian purpose for me in the end: Filling in the gaps I couldn’t remember from the film. I consequently visualised both Mia Farrow and John Cassavetes at all times, especially when the characters engaged in dialogue. I would say that both Levin's novel and Polanski's adaptation have to be viewed as distinctive, yet inseparable. When reviewing one, it's impossible to ignore the other.

A Book for Readers Interested in the Lost City of Rungholt

'Die Letzten Tage von Rungholt' by Kari Köster-Lösche

In the coastal communities of Northern Frisia, an area now located in the state of Schleswig Holstein (Germany), everyone is familiar with the myths surrounding the lost settlement of Rungholt. According to local lore, the destruction of the once fabulously wealthy community was the divine punishment for its residents' self-indulgence and greed.

Marcellus Day in January 1362 marks the beginning of Rungholt's end. A devastating storm flood sweeps across the area, substantially altering the coastline and killing an estimated 100,000 across 30 distinct settlements. After three days the water finally recedes. Previously inhabited land is to this day buried under water and mud. Rungholt, a significant coastal settlement and regional trading hub before the flood, is believed to have been swallowed up by the Sea wholesale and has since become the subject of many a myth. Most of these legends connect the residents' moral conduct with the community's destruction and are undoubtedly the product of superstition. Yet, all folklore contains at least a grain of truth and the local legends surrounding the demise of Rungholt are no exception.

Kari Köster-Lösche, Die Letzten Tage von Rungholt, Publisher: Heyne, 1999

Researchers by and large agree that  Rungholt once existed: It is recorded on maps dating back to the mid-16th Century; and a number of official deeds from the same period also make mention of the location. Its population is believed to have numbered around 3000 residents. Whether their lifestyle was indeed as extravagant as legends claim, remains questionable. Battered by both the Plague and a decline in trade in the decade preceding the catastrophe, Rungholt had seen better days by the arrival of the 'Groote Manndränke' (engl: Grote Mandrenke).

Archeological evidence suggests that Rungholt's wealth was in large parts attributable to one commodity: Salt. Used widely to preserve food, salt from Rungholt's shores was traded as far afield as Flanders. Archaeologists believe that 'salt farming', i.e. the extraction of salt from the sea, developed into the mainstay of Rungholt's economy - with devastating consequences for its population. The large-scale extraction significantly contributed to the erosion of the area's coastline. By the time the flood eventually arrived, existing sea defences did not sufficiently protect the settlement and its residents.

Drawing on insights from archeological and historical research, Kari Köster-Lösche's fictional account of Rungholt's demise, Die Letzten Tage von Rungholt - (an English translation is not available, title freely translated: The Last Days of Rungholt), chronicles the months leading up to the catastrophic flood.

The character at the centre of Köster-Lösche's novel is Arfast Ketelsen, a free Frisian, who, by virtue of his profession as a salter, finds himself at the centre of a net of intrigue and greed involving a number of the community's key players, who are all banking on the ruthless expansion of the area's trade in salt to further their own agendas. When Arfast attempts to warn local dignitaries of the dangers of further intensifying the extraction at the expense of the community's safety, he attracts the wrath of local traders, the King's 'Staller' (King's Representative) and the clergy alike.

Avoiding to overload her readers with historical detail, Köster-Lösche manages to provide a scientifically backed, albeit hypothetical, glimpse into the dependencies of Rungholt's medieval society and the dynamics contributing to the unprecedented destruction of this coastal community. Arfast  adopts the role of the North Frisian Cassandra in his struggle against a well-connected posse of political and clerical decision-makers, who are all embroiled in an intricate web of corruption, greed and deceit. As can be expected, Arfast and his allies find themselves having to convince a complacent bunch of (mostly) ignorant residents, who are either unable to comprehend their concerns or do not dare to question the powers that be.

In an environment where unlawful executions, excommunication and witch trials are commonplace, readers accompany Arfast on a long and arduous journey to save as many lives as possible, avenge his father's murder and rescue his love interest from an arranged marriage. Köster-Lösche manages to squeeze a dense plot with a large cast of characters into a mere 429 pages. Whilst her story is crafted well in terms of pace, at times the characters' actions appeared a little forced. Nevertheless, for all those interested in the myths surrounding the rise and fall of Rungholt, the Atlantis of the North Sea, this might provide an interesting addition or an accessible starting point. 

Book Review: Darcy's Utopia by Fay Weldon

A 90s book. So nineties, it's unbelievable...

Fay Weldon, Darcy's Utopia

Darcy's Utopia ended up on my '2017 clear-out pile' but was one of the more entertaining reads over the past six months. (This says a lot about my rather constrained, clear out-focussed reading list.)  

A full review will be coming up at some point, when I can be bothered to think of something to say about the book ... or find the time to write it down.

In the mean time, my initial verdict: Fay Weldon was actually not quite as annoying as some of the other authors, I had the misfortune of making acquaintances with recently. 

I'm looking at you: Milton Hartoum, and you, Elizabeth Kostova! (Kostova's epically long and equally disappointing 'The Historian' proved to be a tedious, hard slog and Milton Hartoum's 'Orphans of Eldorado' is taking way too long to finish, considering its length of a mere 164 pages.) That says a lot about Weldon's competition in my current reading pile.

Darcy's Utopia charts the ascent and decline of Weldon's heroine, Eleanor Darcy. For the most part, Darcy's story is relaid through a series of interviews she gives to two journalists,  Hugo Vansitart and Valerie Jones, who in turn hook up with one another for the duration of their research of Eleanor's life story, leaving children and partners behind to pursue a short-lived fling.

The book was released in 1991 and whilst I was not particularly smitten by the actual plot, I found this to be quite an entertaining glimpse into the United Kingdom's not so distant past.  Darcy's Utopia aspires to be a lot of things, part societal satire, part comedy, but it failed to  impress me in the end. 

Weldon's heroine starts life as Apricot, a child born out of wedlock on a council housing estate in post-War London with a slightly bewildering family background. Through a series of relationships, Apricot climbs the social ladder, finally becoming Mrs Eleanor Darcy, wife of a high profile economist and adviser to the prime minister.

As briefly mentioned already, I enjoyed this book mainly because of its accounts of society in post-War Britain from the 1950s onwards. I also enjoyed Weldon's writing style. Did I care about the characters or the story? Not really.

Book Review: Deadly Decisions (Temperance Brennan #3) by Kathy Reichs

I picked this one up cheap from a second hand bookshop over ten years ago. Having made the decision to embark on a reading challenge that involves reading all the books on my shelves, which 

a) have been there for too long (i.e. more than five years) and 

b) have been earmarked for a clear-out after reading, 

'Deadly Decisions' by Kathy Reichs fulfilled both criteria.

Deadly Decisions, Temperance Brennan #3 by Kathy Reichs

Despite never having read any of the books in Reich's Temperance Brennan series, I somehow knew that I wouldn't enjoy it. Previous attempts to get into the story never worked out and I gave up about two pages into the book.

Book Review: The Children's Hour by Marcia Willett

Before I begin, I should point out that I have read the 2007 German paperback edition of Willett's 'The Children's Hour', titled 'Das Spiel der Wellen'. The book turned up in my kitchen after it was cleared out by one of my neighbours. He left it with me, since I am the only German speaker in the neighbourhood.

Marcia Willett - The Children's Hour, 2007 German paperback edition titled 'Das Spiel der Wellen'