Awaken, and hear

Thus far in 2010, I have completed reading these books (in this order):
1. Thud! by Terry Pratchett
2. Mort by Terry Pratchett
3. Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett
4. Strength in What Remains by Tracy Kidder
5. A History of God by Karen Armstrong
6. Men At Arms by Terry Pratchett
and
7. Feet of Clay by Terry Pratchett.

Yes, I have read seven books, cover to cover, in the space of 22 days. I read fast. I always have, and a substantial part of me does not understand why it takes people longer than a day to read a 200-page novel. I suppose some must be startled that I read so much, or either they assume that I am only "skimming," and don't get anything out of the story. This is not true. I read very closely and pay attention - quickly.

So anyway, my comments:
Thud! (which I had read before) is the latest installment in the Watch mini-series of Disworld books and is, rather like the book that immediately precedes it in the Watch mini-series (the utterly amazing Night Watch), 1) chock full of hilarious jokes and all-around silliness while simultaneously 2) managing to not be funny or silly. This is a difficult line to walk, and it is one that Pratchett does very well. The best example of this is the climax of the story. The protagonist, Sam, has been previously established as someone who will come home every night to tuck his young son into bed and read him a story (always the same story, a picture book called Where's My Cow?). No matter what - Sam reasons that if he can justify delaying his return five minutes late, then that will turn into ten minutes, then half an hour, then an hour, and then he won't come home at all. Also, if he ever finds a good justification for being late, he will thus inevitably find a bad one. At the climax of the book, Sam cannot be there (homicidal bad guys are in his way). Sam, upset, begins mowing through the bad guys as a one-man bad-guy-chopping-up machine. While reciting - from memory - Where's My Cow?. This scene is thus very silly on its face - bedraggled man plows through army of homicidal, heavily armed bad guys ... while reciting (at full bellow) the words of a story that reads like it was written by Dr. Seuss. Comedic gold, just from the juxtaposition. But - it is not funny. Sam saves the day (the Evil Plot by the bad guys is averted), but feels like a failure - he wasn't there for his son. Also, the scene is interspersed with another - Sam's wife, Sybil, holding their son, full of fear while attempting to hide this fear from the boy. Sybil - rightly - knows that if Sam is not there, then he is either 1) in mortal danger or 2) dead. Not funny in the slightest. This contrast shows up frequently throughout the Night Watch books, and is the chief reason I like them - they are highly intelligent and don't take cheap tricks. Had read this before, will definitely read again.

Mort is the first book in the Death mini-series of Discworld that I have read. It's also the first book in the chronology of that mini-series. The main character is not Death, but rather Death's apprentice (Death is quite struck by how appropriate the name is). Much lighter in both size and in tone than Thud!, Mort is quite light-hearted and has moments that are downright silly, chiefly those relating to Mort's existence as Death's apprentice, living with Death in Death's Domain, along with Death's servant, Albert, and adopted daughter, Ysabell. Very interesting to me was a sequence where Ysabell explains that every single living person (past, present, and future) has their biography in Death's library - those who are dead have books - of varying lengths - full from cover to cover, those not yet born have empty books, and the living have books only partially written. This makes sense to me (in a way) and is also very evocative, especially when Ysabell says that she has explored it, and the biographies go from modern books to scrolls, to cuneiform tablets as she went further back in time. She does not know what comes before this - she ran out of candles - but knows that the library keeps going back, presumably as far back as the existence of people (and thus, possibly, writing itself). I enjoyed this book a great deal. Had not read it before, will probably read again.

Guards! Guards! is the first book in the Watch mini-series. It is, in tone, more similar to the early Discworld books than to the later Watch books. It is silly from beginning to end. It establishes the main characters in the Watch books - Sam Vimes (alcoholic, recovering in later books), the bad-tempered commander of the City Watch, and the three other members of the Night Watch - Fred Colon, a more-or-less classic "nice guy cop," "Nobby" Nobbes, a petty thief who finds being a cop profitable, and Carrot Ironfoundersson, a six-foot-tall red haired dwarf (adopted) with no sense of metaphor (when instructed, he literally throws the book at people) and a very highly developed sense of decency and the absolute rightness of law and order. Carrot is hilariously funny. I enjoyed this book. It is very light, and not one that provokes much thought. Had not read it before, will possibly read again.

Strength in What Remains is an utterly moving biography of a young man (his name is given only as Deogratias), a young medical student from Burundi, who flees the genocide in that country in the 90's. He gradually makes a life for himself in New York and is able to resume his education, graduating from Columbia. He then decides to return to his home and build a free hospital. The biography is excellently written and is full of those little details that make the story very compelling. An amazing sequence occurs when Deo lands at JFK, with only a backpack and $200. He speaks no English, so the customs official calls a translator, a man who happens to be from Senegal. The official asks where Deo is from (he answers truthfully). The translator, upon hearing this reply, immediately asks a second question, unprompted by the official: "How did you get out?" The translator, once Deo clears customs, offers Deo a place to stay until he gets on his feet, an act of charity and kindness that keeps Deo off the streets in a foreign city where he does not speak the language. Later, Deo winds up on the streets and sleeps in Central Park and finds work delivering groceries at a store where the owner is cruel and abusive towards him. Eventually, Deo makes some American friends who help him get into college and support him as he gets his degree, sponsor him for citizenship, and help him get news from his family and friends back in Burundi. I found myself becoming highly emotional as I read this and would definitely read it again.

A History of God is a very dense treatise in religious history (the subtitle, The 4000-Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam perhaps hints and the density of this book). It is well-written, and I found Armstrong's attempts - not always successful - for a balanced tone in the discussion of the relative views of religions and sects helpful. However, I found her repeated references to a mythical egalitarian past a little grating - perhaps there was a time, prior to the rise of patriarchal religions, where human societies were truly egalitarian, but must admit skepticism at this. More egalitarian than later societies? Probably, in certain aspects. More egalitarian than modern times? Possibly. Her insistence that this past existed and then was undermined and ruined by the rise of patriarchal religions may have some truth to it, but I think that there is more to the story - the development of agriculture, the city-state, literacy, et cetera all combined with the rise of patriarchal religions to completely change the prior way of life - nomadic, non-literate hunter-gathering that may have had a religion that centered on a Great Mother. I did agree with her assertion that the premodern ways of religion are largely impossible in modern times - and not because of technology. She asserts, and I agree, that the old faiths cannot really address in a full, complete way that makes sense in an internally consistent way the genocidal and world-wide devastations of the 20th century. Theodicy as a religious concept is as old as religion itself - religion may be partially an attempt to address that query - but organized, bureaucratic genocide and man-made devastation cannot really be explained by traditional theodicy. This leaves the person wishing to explain the event along theodicean lines three options: 1) deny the event happened, 2) deny that the event was important or evil enough to fall under theodicy, or 3) fall into the argument that we cannot possibly understand the workings of the divine. The first option, denialism, fails in the face of evidence. The second, minimalism, usually involves the person making that argument agreeing with the goals of the perpetrators of the evil (i.e. being a bigot). The third argument is unsatisfying, as it answers the central question of theodicy ("Why?") with, essentially, "Don't bother asking!" This book was rather uneven and was difficult to get through, but had some very excellent portions. Maybe would read again.

This post is getting too long, and I am sleepy. I will comment on Men At Arms and Feet of Clay later, after I have slept.