I've really been enjoying Trudi Canavan lately. She's an Australian author - Fantasy genre, of course. I read her Black Magician trilogy first, and had severe difficulties putting it down, and then severe issues with letting it go afterwards. It's rare that I read something that is so good that I don't want it to be over, even when I can't stop myself from reading to find out what happens.
So when I discovered that Canavan had a second completed trilogy, I felt a mixture of anticipation and dread. Odd, I know. But I was so worried that my expectations were too high, and that her second story wouldn't be as good as the first. The desire to read something good finally won, and I just finished the Age of the Five trilogy.
It was, again, excellent. I couldn't stop reading - but had to force myself to. The wonderful and surprising thing is, the second trilogy is so completely different from the first, that comparisons between the two weren't necessary. I could enjoy each one as a separate entity. So my expectations weren't disappointed. In fact, I'd say Canavan is definitely a new favorite of mine. If you're in the mood for a good fantasy with lots of magic, pick up one of these. I don't think you'll regret it.
I'm awed by the imaginations that can conceive of entire worlds and complex social systems that don't have any real reference to our own reality. To be a successful Fantasy writer... it's beyond the imagining of my logical self. But I can surely enjoy and appreciate those who are able to spin such tales, transporting me out of the blandness of reality.
Lost is a somewhat postmodern work. The main character is a writer
who travels between Boston and London, so there were lots of cultural
references for me to recognize and smile at, as well as many literary
references (especially Dickens, etc). So from that standpoint, I
definitely enjoyed it. I appreciated the craftsmanship of it, and even
liked the philosophizing... and yet somehow it simultaneously left me
feeling incredibly dissatisfied.
I've figured out that it's not because I'm not postmodern myself, but because I am,
that I don't want to immerse myself in the chaotic craziness of the
world when I step into a book. 'Lost' itself even confirmed and
solidified this same idea that I've had for a while now. Here's a
lengthy quote about Alice in Wonderland that I can't trim down any further because it just says it all:
A reading child back in those early days, corseted, even strait-jacketed by Victorian certainties, could delight in a story stuffed with nonsense. Time was malleable during a mad tea party in which there could be jam yesterday and jam tomorrow, but never jam today. Creatures could shift shapes, a sheep into an old lady, a baby into a pig. Fury could win out over reason. In the nineteenth century, reading Alice was refreshing because it was an escape from strict convictions about reality.No wonder Wonderland isn't funny to read anymore: We live there full-time. We need a break from it.
But now? Now? Children... hated the Alice books, couldn't read them, and why should they? Their world had strayed into madness long ago. Look at the planet. Rain is acid, poisonous. Sun causes cancer. Sex = death. Children murder each other. Parents lie, leaders lie, the churches have less moral credibility than Benetton ads...
