Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card

From The New York Times Book Review, Gerald Jonas
. . . an affecting novel full of surprises that seem inevitable once they are explained. The key, of course, is Ender Wiggin himself. Mr. Card never makes the mistake of patronizing or sentimentalizing his hero. Alternately likable and insufferable, his is a convincing little Napoleon in short pants.

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No, Mr. Card certainly never patronizes or sentimentalizes Ender. And that's what makes the book so weird. As a sci-fi novel, it's perfectly cool; the dialogue is what you'd expect, the writing is so-so, the imaginative qualities are excellent, but the main characters are little kids. Preternaturally brilliant little kids, grant you, but kids just the same. And honestly, it's hard to remember that. So it gives the book a rather unusual dynamic. Beyond that, though, it's a pretty good read. The descriptions of all the War Games sound awfully fun...can't wait for anti-grav laser tag. On the more literary side, though, Card actually does an admirable job of probing the inner workings of humanity. Surrounding the brilliant little boy is a big problem ... that's been dealt with in a tragically thoughtless fashion. I greatly enjoyed (well, sort of) Ender's struggles within himself to reconcile the part of him that is "human" with the part of him that is "monster". (Working hard for no spoilers, here.) The climax (as opposed to the ending) is sad on multiple levels, most of which have to do with humanity's stupidity. Actually, I suppose that "stupidity" could also be interpreted as "survival instinct," in which case it's hard to place blame in such a fashion.

...In thinking about it, I have an argument for it merely being stupidity. But to post that here would be necessarily spoiler-rich, so I won't.

Again, I'll recommend, but more for the sci-fi lover than for anyone with general literary interests. Science fiction writers so seldom have a way with the language. It's not so ridiculously sci-fi as to be utterly avoided if you've an aversion to such things, however. Somewhere in between Stranger in a Strange Land and Snowcrash on the geek scale, I'd say.

The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood

From Library Journal
In a startling departure from her previous novels ( Lady Oracle , Surfacing ), respected Canadian poet and novelist Atwood presents here a fable of the near future. In the Republic of Gilead, formerly the United States, far-right Schlafly/Falwell-type ideals have been carried to extremes in the monotheocratic government. The resulting society is a feminist's nightmare: women are strictly controlled, unable to have jobs or money and assigned to various classes: the chaste, childless Wives; the housekeeping Marthas; and the reproductive Handmaids, who turn their offspring over to the "morally fit" Wives. The tale is told by Offred (read: "of Fred"), a Handmaid who recalls the past and tells how the chilling society came to be. This powerful, memorable novel is highly recommended for most libraries. BOMC featured alternate. Ann H. Fisher, Radford P.L., Va.

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Fascinating and scary in the the Huxley/Orwell-ian sense. Fundamentalists have taken over. Women cannot hold jobs, and are forbidden to read. The narrator is the titular handmaid, government-issued to the older scions in the community and then forced to produce children in order to maintain her position. It's sad and frightening in that this woman remembers her life before, where she had a job and a husband and a child ... all of which taken away from her. The language is very simple and direct, yet still narrative. I enjoyed noticing the multiple references and metaphors for parts of the body. The entirety of society is in some way sexually repressed ... even the men are not really supposed to enjoy the act of intercourse. There's also a lot of reference to color; women's roles in the society are color-coded. "Marthas" are green, Wives are blue (Virgin Mary reference, perhaps?), and Handmaids are red. The narrator's sense of the importance of color is striking in a world that attempts to remove much of what is enjoyable and aesthetic from society.

Ultimately, though, Atwood makes a bit of a departure from Orwell's 1984 and Huxley's Brave New World in that this fundamentalist society is a sham. Even the heads of the community secretly acknowledge that there is still a desire, or perhaps a "need" for what they call depravity. The Wives and the Marthas typically despise the Handmaids, yet there are still times where all three classes join together in breaking the rules - a moment of sisterly solidarity. There is, of course, an underground movement of questionable authenticity as well.

I recommend this. The language finds the balance between artistic and prosaic. Plus, as with any of these "watch out for the future" type things, there are warnings and messages to be had. Perhaps in the final count, Atwood wants us to simply be grateful for the freedoms that we have.

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Sadly, I had to leave this, and now coming back to it I am not positive I managed to remember what else I wanted to say. This whole "book report" thing is going to be an experiment in reading/processing sensitively. I'm probably going to be reading a fair amount of literary criticism in the near future in order to aid me in that goal. Stay tuned for Ender's Game, and perhaps the long-promised comparison of Will in the World and Shakespeare by Another Name. Don't expect anything great from that one, though. I procrastinate too often; it's been a while now since I finished them.

Books?

I suppose, if all else fails, I could use this space to write about the books I read. With that in mind, I'll see if I can't come up with something shortly for the following:
1. The Handmaid's Tale, Atwood
2. Ender's Game, Card