Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke

It is England at the beginning of the nineteenth century: the time of King George III, and the Napoleonic Wars. And yet it is not quite England as we know it. For this England is made up of two kingdoms: the north and the south. The King in the North, the Raven King, John Uskglass, was the last practicing magician in the country, but he disappeared three hundred years ago. Since then, English magic has been limited to dusty old men reading dusty old books, studying the theory of magic, but the theory alone. Actual, visible, practical magic is a thing of the past. Or so it seemed, until now...

The story opens with the framing device of a third party - not Norrell, nor Strange, but Mr Segundus, posing the question to the society of magicians: why is magic no longer done in Britain? The following thousand pages proceed to tell us exactly what happens when mortals meddle with magic. The two titular magicians could not be more unlike each other. Gilbert Norrell, the one and only practical magician turned up at the beginning of the book, is a pompous, dull, irritating man, cautious of the powers of magic, and desiring that he should keep the secrets to himself. Meanwhile, Jonathan Strange is outwardly charming, a brilliant apprentice magician, but capricious and reckless.

The story really begins when, against his better judgement, Mr Norrell resurrects a lady from the dead, making a bargain with a shady, David-Bowie-in-Labyrinth-like figure from fairyland known only as the gentleman with the thistle-down hair. Once the fairies get involved, nothing is predictable, and Clarke spins a bewitching tale that draws you into this world like and yet unlike our own, until you are as bewitched as if you too spent half of your life dancing the nights away at the gentleman's kingdom of Lost-hope. Strange and Norrell contrast with one another in almost every aspect of character and approach to magic; one in favour of bringing back magic to English shores in full force, the other wanting only to control it and keep it secure, and by no means to involve the fairies, whose morality, if they have such a thing, is completely alien and unpredictable.

It took me a decade between first buying Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell as a Christmas present for my dad, and actually getting around to reading it. Even though I suspected it would be right up my street, I found the length a little intimidating, and when I watched the TV adaptation last year, I was the only person in the room not to know the story - a rare event, especially in this genre. Strange and Norrell is absolutely my sort of story, full of dark fantasy and magical story-telling, dangerous fairies, set in a deftly-drawn alternative history and told with dry wit. The narrative reads as though written at the time it was set, and the language and spelling of the regency era serves to draw the reader even further into the world of the novel -  with copious amounts of in-universe footnotes, giving background to the alternative version of history.

Although there were a few chapters near the end (when Strange is travelling in Venice) which seemed less tightly-woven into the plot than the rest, on the whole, the pages flew by easily, and I thoroughly enjoyed spending a week or so in this magical world. Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is an indulgent and all-absorbing novel, an excellent comfort read on long winter nights.

The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet - Becky Chambers

When Ashby, Captain of the Wayfarer, takes on a new clerk, not all of the crew think he's made the right decision. Rosemary is young and inexperienced, and this is her first time off her home planet of Mars. But Rosemary is efficient and friendly, if reserved, and does not take long to settle in among the Wayfarer's varied crew. And if she has some secrets she'd rather keep in her past, well, doesn't everyone?

The Wayfarer is not a military ship, nor a diplomatic one, or a rag-tag bunch of crooks evading capture. It's a construction ship whose main job is to build wormholes. The latest job is the biggest yet: a tunnel from an unknown part of the galaxy, to aid an alliance between the Galactic  Commons and a somewhat volatile and dangerous tribe. But first, they have to get there...

As the title suggests, The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet is the story of a journey, a character study of a small cast in a confined space (with the occasional stop along the way.) I enjoyed it as a leisurely read, taking my time over the book, and enjoying getting to know the characters and the universe portrayed. The different species are really diverse, not with just one "hat" to mark each one out as different, but with a wide variety of cultures, appearances, beliefs and language styles. This is not an Earth-centric setting; the Humans (from Mars and from the Exodus Fleet outside the Solar System - Earth is all but deserted) are fairly new additions to the Galactic Commons. Dates are measured in tenday periods, which add up to Standards (and I'm pretty sure a day is not the twenty four hours of Earth. Why would it be?) The universal language is Klip. As well as five humans: the Wayfarer's crew includes Sissix, of the very tactile reptilian species Aandrisk, the ship's doctor and cook known as Dr Chef, who is Grum, a near-extinct people who change gender over the course of a lifetime, Ohan, a Sianat Pair, short-lived joined species (comparable to Star Trek's Trill) who are always described in the plural. And Lovey, the AI, who tends to get overlooked but is a much-valued and loved part of the team. 

What struck me as remarkable in Small Angry Planet was that this really is a civilian ship. When did you last see an unarmed spaceship in science fiction? Star Trek's Starfleet may claim not to be military, but follows a strong naval tradition, and its exploration starships are heavily armed with phasers and photon torpedoes, which are regularly used. Star Wars is full of lightsabers and blasters. Battlestar Galactica and her fleet are engaged in a desperate fight for survival against the Cylons. Firefly's rebels are armed and fight dirty. But the Exodan humans are pacifists, and Ashby refuses to allow weapons aboard his ship, even for self-defence. It struck me as shocking and sad to realise that violence is taken for granted even in the Utopian futures, and Small Angry Planet is revolutionary just by not arming this tunnelling ship. And it shouldn't be. But being unarmed doesn't always protect them. 

What happens when the Wayfarer reaches its destination, while tense, twisty and shocking, is not really the point. It's about the journey, both the long physical voyage in space, and the changes in each of the characters as they change and grow, confront secrets, challenges and dilemmas. They don't always make the right decisions. Some choices will reverberate past the end of the book. 

The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet is a really fresh, intelligent and fun science fiction novel. As Stephen King's 11.22.63 affected the way I view time-travel, so Small Angry Planet set a new standard for space-travel stories. And there is a sequel on its way later this year. I usually prefer stand-alone stories to series, but Becky Chambers' universe and characters are too vast, too rich, to be contained within 400 pages. It feels as though we've only just scratched the surface.

Sofia Khan is Not Obliged - Ayisha Malik

Sofia has recently decided to commit to a life of celibacy. Her sister is due to get married, one of her best friends is about to marry a man who already has another wife, and her family just will not stop badgering her about when it's going to be her turn. But she's just broken up with her boyfriend, who wanted her to move in with his interfering family. One day, after an unfortunate incident on a London Underground train, she finds herself commissioned to write a book about Muslim Dating...

It's unusual to find a protagonist in mainstream fiction these days with a strong religious faith (of any religion.) If you do, it's either downplayed, showing the characters indistinguishable from anyone else but for a few words or rituals. And when religion is explored in depth it tends towards an anguished crisis of faith. And in particular, Islam gets fogged to the outside view by ignorance, misinformation and fear. Sofia Khan Is Not Obliged shows us an insider's view, an ordinary British Muslim whose faith is an integral part of her life. She chooses to wear the hijab (much to the dismay of her mother) and her working life brings its own challenges in finding a quiet place to pray five times a day. She is also loud, stubborn, witty, likeable and intelligent, an occasional smoker and lover of lemon puffs and chocolate hobnobs - a likeable and relatable character.

I picked up Sofia Khan at work when unpacking the new books delivery, and knew after looking through a few pages that I had to buy it. By the time Sofia shouts at a racist about terrorists not wearing vintage shoes, she had become real to me: I could see her, hear her voice, I needed to know her story. Despite her determination to stay single, Sofia ventures out into the dating world for "research" for her book, with its perils and pitfalls. But the most significant relationships come into her life through other means: the American with whom she has a hilarious bantering chemistry, the former fiance returns, and then there is a slower-building friendship that may become something else. Given the genre - the romantic comedy - it's inevitable that Sofia will find love somewhere, but it is not a straight-forward conclusion. Along the way, Sofia falls under pressure to please her family who just want to see her happily married, but is she making the right choices, and if not, how will she know?

Sofia Khan is a cheerful read, and had me giggling every few pages, but also made me feel for her sorrows and dilemmas in her quest to find happiness for her friends and family as well as for herself. She doesn't always make the right decisions, and with mistakes come consequences that are not easily brushed away. Sofia's family might not understand her choices, but what they do have, beneath the bickering and nagging, is love, which shines through the inter-generational conflict, in a wonderfully rounded and believable cast of characters. My only complaint about this book is that one of the promising new friends was written out of the story about halfway through and barely warrants a mention afterwards. But there were so many other great characters to spend the rest of the book with.  I came away from this book feeling as though I'd made a lot of new friends in the Khan family, and in Sofia's closest circle, Hannah, Fozia and Suj, Katie at work, and Conall (not Colin!) the grump next door who has hidden depths.

I'm really excited for Sofia Khan, which I'm hoping will be one of 2016's big debuts. It's been chosen by WH Smith travel stores as part of their Fresh Talent promotion, so this ought to help to make the book one of the big new hits of 2016. I want to get people reading and talking about Ayisha Malik and Sofia Khan, and good news - there is a sequel in the works. I can't wait to see what happens next.

You can read an interview with Ayisha Malik about Sofia Khan at the New Statesman here.

Pratchett Readathon: Night Watch

 This isn't your past any more. Not exactly. It's a past. And up there is a future. It might be your future. But it might not be. You want to go home now, leaving Carcer here and the real John Keel dead? But there'll be no home to go to, if you could do that.

When Sam Vimes faces a vicious serial killer on the roof of the Unseen University, the last thing he expects is to find himself stranded thirty years earlier in his own past. It was a very different time, an explosion just waiting to happen. The ruler was out of touch with the common people and reality, the Watch were corrupt, and the masses had just about had enough. Vimes just wants to go back to his own time, when his wife is having their first child, but there is a problem. Vimes brought the evil Carcer back with him, who is running amok in Ankh-Morpork and mingling with powerful villains, quite happy to cause as much disruption to history as he possibly can. And John Keel, the man who taught Vimes everything he knew, is now dead. Now it is up to Vimes to mentor his younger self and single-handedly turn the City Watch around. But revolution is brewing...

Night Watch is, without doubt, my favourite of the thirty-plus Discworld books I've read. In fact, I would go so far as to say that it is objectively the best book in the series! It is best to read the other "Watch" books first, however: Guards! Guards!, Men at Arms, Feet of Clay at a minimum, with The Fifth Elephant and Jingo as optional extras. That way, you get to see how far Samuel Vimes and the Ankh-Morpork City Watch (or police force) have come since the start. When we first met the Watch in Guards! Guards! it comprised only three men, and its Captain was a drunk in a gutter. (Not, as my sister so rightly pointed out, an alcoholic - he wasn't rich enough for that. A drunk.) Over the course of several books, Terry Pratchett built up the characters, improved the Watch, promoted Vimes several times and saw him happily married to the richest woman in the city. Pratchett shows us just how much Vimes's life has improved, just how good he's got it - and then snatches all that away. We see how bad Ankh-Morpork has been by comparing it with the city we've come to know, which may be a mouldering cesspit crawling with villainy, but it is a mouldering cesspit that works, crawling with well-regulated villainy. That may not sound like a glowing recommendation, and yet it shines a light into the dark places of the city in years gone by.

But the real conflict of Night Watch is that which comes from within. It is up to Vimes, in the role of his mentor John Keel to not only sort out the corruption and brutality of the Watch and protect the populace during a time of severe unrest, but also to make sure that his younger self will stay on the right path (while knowing that it's a path that will lead to a lot of pain along the way.) And he does so magnificently. As "John Keel," Vimes strides in and takes over with sarcasm, audacity and an unconventional but very firm moral compass. I think it is fair to say that Sam Vimes becomes the closest thing that the Discworld has to a hero.

This series began life as a comic parody of the fantasy genre, but by Night Watch it barely feels like fantasy at all. This is literature, albeit literature containing time travel, trolls, werewolves and zombies, all taking place on a flat world held up by four elephants on the back of an enormous turtle called The Great A'Tuin. All this is secondary. I wouldn't even call Night Watch a comedy. There is humour throughout, but instead of silly gags there is a more piercing wit that is all the more satisfying for being paired with darker themes. And the social commentary is just as relevant today, if not more so than when it was published in 2002. Just think of the political situation in the UK with a government out of touch with the people it claims to speak for, or in America with all the reports we hear of racism, corruption and brutality ingrained in the police force. Night Watch can be held up against Charles Dickens or Victor Hugo in its fierce morality, as well as being a jolly good story. This is Sir Terry Pratchett at his finest.

Elizabeth is Missing - Emma Healey

Maud gets muddled about all sorts of things these days, but she is sure of one thing: Elizabeth is missing. In her obsession to find out what has happened to her friend, Maud's quest takes her back to a long-forgotten mystery from her past.

Elizabeth Is Missing hit close to home, making me think of my own grandmother, who is 92, and growing increasingly forgetful and confused. And like Maud, she has very fixed ideas that no one else can quite work out where they came from. But they make perfect sense to her. It did not help matters that Maud's daughter in Elizabeth is Missing was named Helen - my mother's name - and her granddaughter Katy (though they were very different people from my mum and me.)

It was a courageous choice on Emma Healey's behalf to write this book entirely from the point of view of an elderly lady with some form of dementia. Written in the first person, the prose is in a sort of stream-of-consciousness, a mixture of past and present as Maud gets her thoughts confused, with gaps between scenes, and the search for elusive words (which may turn up in the next paragraph as if they were never missing.) Each sentence is in the present, although we can observe where it contradicts the thought that Maud had just a couple of lines back. We get to experience Maud's frustration and fogginess while seeing what she forgets, as she forgets it. This fictional view inside a fading mind encourages empathy, patience and understanding. Maud's world is not the same as the one she physically inhabits, but is a world of the mind, of past and present perceived as fluid and changing. 

Maud's memories are bound up in repeated behaviour and in objects, which take her back to a time in her past, in the 1940s, when her sister Sukey disappeared. Her recollection of seventy years ago is far more lucid than her short-term memory, which just will not retain information. She will latch onto small details, ask strange, apparently meaningless questions, such as where would be the best place to plant marrows? As well as the memories of her family, their lodger and her missing sister's lodger, a "mad" woman recurs in her flashbacks, making scenes, but for the most part seemingly unrelated to everything else Maud remembers. As well as perhaps being a parallel to her elderly self, one wonders if the "mad" woman's strange behaviour will be the key to unlocking the mystery. And ultimately the clues were in plain sight all along, if only Maud (and the reader) could figure out what they meant. 

Elizabeth is Missing was an excellent book to start 2015 with, a compassionate psychological study, and a compelling and satisfying mystery. A remarkable, perfectly-crafted debut. 

The Martian - Andy Weir

It was a ridiculous sequence of events that led to me almost dying, and an even more ridiculous sequence that led to me surviving.

 If an astronaut was accidentally left behind on Mars, could he possibly survive long enough to be rescued? In The Martian, Andy Weir sets out to answer that question in an intelligent, brilliantly-researched and believable way.

This is my food supply. All natural, organic, Martian-grown potatoes. Don't hear that every day, do you?

It took me quite a while to get into The Martian at first. Most of the story is told in astronaut Mark Watney's log, with step-by-step details of: "Here's what I'm going and this is how it works." I'm not very scientifically-minded, so I had to read some passages through a couple of times to understand at least the gist of them, and Weir doesn't spell out the definition of every unfamiliar word: either we know what "Hab," "sol" and "EVA" mean, or we figure it out from context. In the first log entries, I found the mixture of scientific detail and silly humour jarring. But then, of course the humour would feel forced. The man's just been left for dead on Mars, and he's trying to make the best of things. Joking is perhaps not the natural response to this unique situation, but it's a survival mechanism.

But just because this was a slow read, doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it. Spending more time with a book and putting more effort into reading it can be rewarding, and ultimately I think The Martian is the best book I've read this year so far.

It didn't take me very long to appreciate Watney's character: a likable, unflappable and determined guy with a goofy sense of humour. He had to be. Personality is a crucial part of space travel, because if you're stuck in a tin can with just a few people for months on end, you have to not want to kill each other. Also, Watney's resourceful and logical nature in the face of almost certain death makes him a very realistic astronaut. Yes, if surviving alone on Mars for over a year is possible, this man could do it.

"I wonder what he's thinking now."

Log Entry: Sol 61. How come Aquaman can control whales? They're mammals! Makes no sense.

The pace of the story picked up when the narrative switched between Watney's log and NASA discovering his survival and attempting to bring him home. From Earth, we get a broader perspective of what Watney has to deal with, and the efforts put into bringing him home, but there is also an added tension when satellite images reveal obstacles that Watney is unaware of. I grew to dread the switch from first person to third, especially on Mars, because the omniscient narrator was about to tell the reader something that Watney did not know - usually disaster.

Phobos is the god of fear, and I'm letting it be my guide. Not a good sign.

The Martian is a rollercoaster ride (or rover ride, perhaps) of victorious success and catastrophic setbacks, and each obstacle asks the same question anew: how can Watney possibly survive this? I found myself sitting bolt upright, glued to the page and shouting at the book. Watney's survival is never assured, even in the final few pages. The Martian gave me a real adrenaline rush, if a non-traditional one. It is also utterly heartwarming the huge efforts and expense put in to save one man's life, how the entire world comes together to attempt to bring Watney home, refusing to give up while the tiniest bit of hope remains.

N0S4R2 - Joe Hill

Victoria McQueen has a talent for finding things. As a little girl, she cycled across the Shorter Way Bridge near her home, to come out miles away. Throughout her turbulent youth, all she had to do was go out on her bike and the bridge would take her wherever she needed to go. But one day, an angry, teenaged Vic found Charlie Manx, kidnapper, serial killer, and vampire of sorts, and she barely escaped with her life. Sixteen years on, Manx snatches Vic's son in his vintage Rolls-Royce Wraith (number plate N0S4R2 or N0S4A2 depending on which edition of the book you're reading.) Wayne (first name Bruce) is whisked away to Manx's Christmasland, a place that promises eternal happiness, fun and innocence. But Vic McQueen will do anything to get her son back.

Vic McQueen is a messed-up character, there's no doubt about that. Combine a childhood of living with parents who loathed each other with her reality-defying gift and her near-death experience at Charlie Manx's, and it's no wonder she went off the rails. But I found it impossible not to like this tough-talking, tattooed young mother just trying to make the best of things despite her brokenness. In the aftermath of her first encounter with Manx, the adult Vic goes through various institutions, and emerges not sure of what is true and what is illusion. It is notable that Manx's return into Vic's life coincides with her running out of medication. Though it's pretty certain that N0S4R2 is a tale of the supernatural, Joe Hill subtly introduces a hint of doubt. There are times when the same scene is shown from two different points of view, each account differing just enough to make you question the narrator's reliability.

Vic is one half of the most unlikely but endearing couple, and I will continue to call them a couple though they are separated at the time of their son's abduction. Lou is the improbable knight on a shining motorbike who helps her escape from Manx; overweight and nerdy, Lou is an archetypal "loser," but he has a heart of gold and an enduring loyalty. Even when Vic and Lou are apart, their love for each other shines throughout.

In N0S4R2, Joe Hill has created characters you can really care for. Even people who appear for just a scene or two are rounded out and make you feel for them - a very dangerous thing in a horror novel. Due to the genre, you know that dreadful things are sure to happen, but I found myself aching for certain characters to be spared. Surely they must be immune? The devastating impact of each death reaffirms that no one is the expendable extra, that when a serial killer is on the loose, there is no containing the consequences of his actions. No man is an island; the redshirt is a myth.

On the other hand, the villains are repulsive. Manx is awful enough, evil and twisted enough to convince himself that he is doing what is best. But his henchman, Bing, is so much worse, utterly vile, a rapist and murderer, broken in the brain, and unlike Manx you get to see inside his mind. His point-of-view chapters made me feel defiled just by reading them.

At nearly 700 pages, N0S4R2 requires some commitment, but it is a twisty page-turner, an unusual and attention-grabbing thriller. Each chapter takes the story in a new direction. In some ways, I was hesitant to read much of the book in one sitting, for fear of what might lie in store for the characters, but that was continually overridden by the desire to get caught up in this adventure and spent my time in the world of the novel.

Lucky No. 14: Blame it on the Bloggers.

I wasn't planning to buy the book this year (whoops - I mean last year!) although I've had my eye on it since its hardback release. The current edition in the shops is the unpopular trade paperback - size of a hardback, but with a paper cover, neither one thing nor the other - and I had planned to wait for the smaller paperback. But Hanna, Sarah, Laura and perhaps some other people I've missed, kept raving about the book and as it was a Christmas-themed book, I could not wait another year. I'm very pleased I gave in: N0S4R2 was an excellent beginning to the new year. Let's see if the rest of 2014's reading can live up to this one.

Key Quotes

Christmas was almost three months in the rearview mirror, and there was something awful about Christmas music when it was nearly summer. It was like a clown in the rain, with his makeup running.

He was as tall as Lincoln and just as dead.

"What are you really scared of? Scared that you're crazy? Or scared that you aren't?"

"I am a leaf on the wind," Lou said, and the man-nurse said, "Dude, don't say that. I don't want to start crying on the job."  (Hurrah for the Serenity reference!)

He believed in his own decency with all his heart. So it was with every true monster, Vic supposed.

Top ten books of 2013 so far/Once Upon a Readathon

I'm really cheating here, because this was The Broke and the Bookish's top ten for last week, but I was away from my computer for a couple of days and missed it.

My blogging resolution for 2013 was to read quality, rather than quantity: to take my time reading books I could fall in love with, instead of skimming through things I didn't care in order to reach a target. So far it seems to be working. I haven't even kept track of how many books I've read, and deleted my Goodreads account, but there seem to be a higher proportion of great reads on my list.

Top Ten Books of 2013 So Far (in no particular order)

1. Paper Towns by John Green. Although Looking For Alaska, which has similar themes, has more publicity, I preferred this story of a boy piecing together the mystery of his friend and crush's
disappearance. I love a good treasure-hunt story, a mystery with clues to solve, and the interesting and little-known facts and details that make Green's books come alive and appeal to us nerdy types.

2. Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion. I am very much not into zombies. They Warm Bodies was the exception: Somehow Marion was able to convey just what it would be like to live as a zombie, trapped inside a mind that is almost but not quite eroded, snarkily humorous but surprisingly thoughtful and compassionate. (The book is better than the film.)
do nothing for me.

3. Tell The Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rifka Brunt. I found this book just after the death of an old friend, and it was just what I needed to read at that time: a tale of grief and young love, family and growing up, and the confusion that comes when someone dies. I haven't seen much publicity around this book, which is a real shame. Highly recommended.

4. The Universe Versus Alex Woods by Gavin Extence. A story of a friendship between a bright but unusual teenager and a grumpy old man. An odd mixture of humour and sadness, this book challenged me to think. Alex Woods is a wonderful character, and I defy you not to fall in love with him.

5. After the Fall by Charity Norman. This is an odd one, because I wasn't sure I was going to like this book at all. I felt sure I knew where the story was going - and I couldn't have been more wrong. I love books that surprise me; that manage to sneak past the emotional barriers I put up, making me care for the characters more than I intended to. Challenging, heartbreaking, but ultimately hopeful.

6. Watchmen by Alan Moore. A dark and dismal story that takes a sideways look at the concept of superheroes, and wonders what kind of world it would be if they really did exist. An uncomfortable and sometimes unpleasant read, posing difficult questions about morality, heroics
and the human race as a whole, but one that stays with you for a long time.

7. Ready Player One by Ernest Cline Did I mention that I love a good treasure hunt story? This one is set in a dystopian future, but its true setting is within the internet itself, in a virtual reality that is a geek's paradise, stuffed with references to gaming, science fiction, cult films and TV, in
particular of the 1980s. A thriller with all the adrenaline-rush of the best video game in the world.

8. The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman This was my most
anticipated read of the year, and it did not disappoint. A children's tale for grown-ups and a short story grown long, this is all about childhood, magic and memory, filled with deep-down truths that I can't quite grasp, but that Gaiman has made sense of through story. As soon as I finished this book, I started at the beginning once more, a thing I haven't done since I read the final Malory Towers book at the age of 11 or 12.

9. 2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C Clarke I only half-watched the film, which probably demands one's full attention, but is extremely slow-paced. The beginning is bizarre, the middle a respectable science fiction movie slowed right down, starring the world's most sinister computer, and the ending both terrifying and a complete mind-screw. I didn't love it, but it lingered, and when I saw the book in the library, I took it home to read straight away. The novel and film are really two halves of a whole: the film shows, while the book explains what we're seeing. And as I read, a long-forgotten part of my childhood returned to me. When I was seven or eight, I was fascinated by the solar system; the vastness of space, the strangeness of all the planets, and the dream of space exploration. I had a space encyclopedia I could pore over for hours - but as I grew older, I'd forgotten all of this. 2013 has been the year of me discovering I actually like science fiction, but the realistic journey of the Discovery to Jupiter and Saturn gives a far greater idea of the size of space than all the fictional galaxies of Star Trek and Firefly. 

10. Les Miserables by Victor Hugo This is not a book I intend to reread from start to finish regularly, the 1000+ page tome breaking from the story every few chapters for Hugo to pass judgement at great length on history, politics, life in a convent and the sewers of Paris. Of course, you can enjoy the musical without reading the book - from the comfort of your own home now it has been filmed - but the book is so much deeper and richer.



Once Upon A Readathon: Mon 8th- Weds 10th July 2013

After last month's Bout of Books readathon, I've found myself bitten by the bug. Of course, I can devote any of my free time I choose to reading, and do, but it's easy in these days of wi-fi to spend more time tweeting about books, reading blogs about books and setting off a TvTropes tabsplosion about books, than actually reading. A readathon is a great incentive to actually sit down, ignore all the distractions, and actually get lost in a good book or three. So I've decided to sign up for Once Upon A Readathon, which takes place next week. I don't expect to read more than two books during that time, as I'll be at work on two of the three days. Monday will be my day off, and so I intend to get as much reading done as possible that day. Can't wait!

Ready Player One - Ernest Cline

For several years now, I've had a troubling vision of a future where the physical world is entirely forsaken in favour of twenty-four-hour internet. Where there are no shops, only online shopping, no human interaction but continual tweeting, no social gatherings but Facebook events. Where relationship status updates carry more weight that marriage certificates, and where couples don't even need to be in the same country. Instead of living life, we livetweet, and instead of seeing the world, we photograph it and post it on Instagram. We shun the friends we are with, while exchanging tweets on our smartphones with someone the other side of the world. And as I write this, I wonder how much of this is prediction and how much observation. I'm certainly as guilty as anyone else. The other day I could not be bothered to cook, so I ordered pizza without any human contact except, briefly, with the delivery boy. To this geeky, socially awkward blogger who loves escapism, there is a certain appeal to such a lifestyle, yet its very appeal sets off warning bells in my head. How long before we routinely upload our brains into the internet?

With Ready Player One, Ernest Cline makes a far better job of portraying such a world than I possibly could. In the not-too-distance future, the internet has been swallowed up by a massive, sprawling virtual reality called the OASIS. More than just a video game, the OASIS spans universes, with planets, books, virtual schools and workplaces, shops and restaurants, and of course games galore. Users have an avatar to traverse the OASIS, with headsets and gloves that allow them to experience the virtual worlds as though physically present. A few years before the novel begins, James Halliday, the OASIS' designer died without an heir, and his multi-billion dollar fortune has been left to whoever is first to unravel the clues hidden within the virtual worlds. For a long time, the clues yielded no results, and by many the "Easter egg hunt" has been dismissed as a hoax. Until eighteen-year-old Wade Watts stumbles upon the first key...

 I've never been much of a gamer, and so it took me a long time to be persuaded to read this book that has had such rave reviews. I needn't have worried: it was wonderful. Both the story and the world of the OASIS were utterly engrossing, and I would forget that I was reading about a kid sitting in the remains of a car in a junkyard, plugged into his computer. The OASIS seems more real than Wade's reality, which is in a sad state of being: overpopulated with all the world's resources running low. There's no real future for a kid who lives in a stacked trailer park. No wonder he finds refuge plugged into the internet, where he can be whoever he wants. Problems in the OASIS seem to affect Wade more than real-world catastrophe, and at times it would take me a moment to get reality and OASIS untangled. The OASIS, a computer programme made entirely of 0s and 1s, is as convincing a setting as any.

One of my favourite things in fiction is a good treasure hunt; not that I'm ever any good at solving the clues, but I enjoy watching the characters work them out. The hunt for Halliday's fortune lies in geek culture, especially from the 1980s: in science fiction, early computer games and cult movies. Though many of the references passed me by, many more made me smile - Firefly, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Discworld, Star Trek, Doctor Who... all these are name-dropped, and I had a big goofy grin all over my face through the final test. (Clue: he's using coconuts!)

Ready Player One is as thrilling as the best computer games, with enough real-world peril to keep the reader really caring. Solving the clues is more than just about winning the money: once the first key is uncovered, the big corporations get involved, their ultimate goal to privatise the OASIS. This is not just a case of Yahoo buying Tumblr, or even Amazon taking over Goodreads. For underprivileged kids like Wade, the OASIS is what makes life worthwhile. And the corporation plays nasty. Wade and the other competitors pose a threat to their ruthless ambitions, and must be stopped by any means.

I could not get enough of this novel, and it came as a real shock to reach the end. An outstanding science fiction novel: engrossing, geeky and a lot of fun. I wanted to eat that book.

Book to Film: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

This is going to be a looooong one. Spoilers for the film, but not later on in the book.

It's always risky adapting a beloved film for the big screen. They say that no two people read the same book; everybody has their own ideas about how it should look, sound and feel. Even Peter Jackson, whose adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings was widely acclaimed, was not guaranteed to repeat his success upon his return to Middle-Earth. One could be forgiven for thinking that after the sprawling three-volume epic, The Hobbit should be a piece of cake, but the smaller novel provides its own challenges. In effect, it has to be two different stories simultaneously: the simple fairy-tale that Tolkien started writing while marking exam papers, and a part of an entire world of mythology that culminated in the Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit's reviews have been very mixed, and those negative reviews that are not primarily concerned with Jackson's experiments with frame-rates, seem to fall in one of two camps. Some complain that The Hobbit is too much like Lord of the Rings, too epic and complex, when it ought to be a Narnia-esque kids' adventure. Others think that it is too simple and childish - not enough like LotR. 

Me? I couldn't be happier. As far as I'm concerned, Jackson got the balance just right, keeping the world of The Hobbit consistent with the existing cinematic Middle-Earth, but retaining the story's unique flavour. At first I had my doubts about the wisdom and necessity of turning The Hobbit into two films, let alone three, but after reading the book I realised just how much happens, how many people Bilbo, Thorin and co meet, and how many places they visit, rushed through at a chapter per location, character or incident. It would be a very long film to do each one justice. Jackson and co have also turned to the back end of LotR's appendices and other writings to give an added depth to The Hobbit.

The film opens with a prologue, slotting it nicely into the beginning of Fellowship of the Ring, by showing Bilbo Baggins as an old Hobbit, and a cameo from Frodo. Perhaps this is a little forced, but it rekindles that homey feeling of Bag End, and was probably put in as an excuse to show Bilbo writing and narrating those immortal words:

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

Corny set-up or not, those words would have been missed if they had not been there. The entire Bag End scenes which follow are practically flawless. Martin Freeman truly is the young Bilbo Baggins. I fear Mr Freeman may be in danger of being typecast as an ordinary Englishman (or hobbit of the Shire) who finds himself caught up in extraordinary adventures against his will - see Sherlock's Dr Watson, or Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy's Arthur Dent. But he plays these roles so beautifully! Bilbo and Gandalf's first interaction walked straight off the page and onto the screen, a lighter comedy than in even the beginning of Fellowship of the Ring, and laying to rest my anxieties that this would be more Lord of the Rings: The Prequel than The Hobbit. After this very strange encounter with a wizard who seem to know more about Mr Baggins than he ought, poor Bilbo finds his house swarming with Dwarves, with muddy boots, sharp swords and huge appetites, completely clearing out his pantry and threatening to trash his kitchen. (Spoiler alert: Yes, the washing-up song is in there - one of my favourite moments in the entire film.)

J.R.R. Tolkien didn't give the Dwarves a lot of personality, with the exception of the king, Thorin Oakenshield. Balin is kind, Dori is "a decent fellow," Fili and Kili are young, cheerful and a bit reckless, and Bombur is overweight - that's about all we know. For the film, each of the thirteen has his own look and personality trait. Fili and Kili are shaping up to be fan favourites - especially among the female fans, perhaps for obvious reasons.

May I here point out that they were always my favourites, years before they were cast? Fili, Kili and Balin, who is depicted in the film as a gentle soul but a seasoned warrior, a loyal follower of Thorin, but one filled with doubts about the wisdom of their quest to reclaim the Lonely Mountain of Erebor.

An unexpected favourite from the movie adaptation turned out to be Bofur (played by James Nesbitt) who has been expanded from one of the Interchangeable Backup Dwarves to quite a character. He starts off as quite a lovable rascal with a Northern Irish accent and a twinkle in his eye, tormenting Bilbo in his home and sparing no details about exactly how it would feel to run into the business end of Smaug* the dragon. Yet, a moving scene later on in the film proves that he is made up entirely of charm and loveliness.

Reading the book, I never found Dwarven king Thorin Oakenshield to be a very likeable character, surly at best and a complete jerk at worst, but, again, the movie rounds him out a little by showing flashbacks to his past. After showing the devastation of Erebor and the awful aftermath of battles, his quest comes across as more than filling his pockets with gold. I still wanted to shout "Oh, shut up Thorin!" a couple of times, but not as often as when reading the book.

Like Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit uses long, panning shots of breathtaking New Zealand countryside that made me want to pack up my bags and hop on a plane to go on long treks across the mountains. Howard Shore returned to compose the score, keeping in the heartachingly familiar Concerning Hobbits theme, and giving it a jaunty and adventurous twist in keeping with Bilbo's character. As well as other familiar leitmotifs, Shore has introduced some new tunes, most notably the solemn, proud, Dwarf theme (the same tune used in the "Misty Mountains" song which reduced many a Tolkien fan to tears in the first Hobbit trailer last year.) The soundtrack and scenery help to ground this story in the same Middle-Earth as Rings, leaving me feeling as though I'd never left.

It is interesting to compare the perspectives of the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings quests. LotR focused upon the human civilisations and the Elves, whose glory days were coming to an end, and the beauty of their kingdoms in Rivendell and Lothlorien, but the only Dwarf, Gimli, was mainly used for comic relief. We return once more to Rivendell, but somehow it doesn't feel like the same idyllic haven that it was before. In the company of Dwarves, we see through their eyes, and I felt that Jackson excelled in subtly giving the same place a sense that something was slightly off-kilter in this golden leafy paradise. The Elves do not sing "tra-la-la-lally," (thank goodness!) but there is a tra-la-la-lally feel to their music, that is at odds with the solid, earthy Dwarves. That being said, I enjoyed seeing another side to Elrond: riding home exhilarated from battling goblins, not the care-worn, frowning leader bearing responsibility for the whole world as well as his wayward daughter.

But it was in Rivendell that I had the closest thing to a criticism of the film: the role of Galadriel. My quibble was not with anything explicitly said or done, so much as the veneration with which Galadriel was treated. Yes, she is one of the wisest beings on Middle-Earth, and, though she is not mentioned in the book of The Hobbit, the Lord of the Rings and Unfinished Tales establish her as being a key member of the White Council. But she is still an Elf. The film adaptation implied in its treatment that she ranked higher even than Gandalf, but the wizards of Middle-Earth are in fact closer to angels than humans or Elves. Still, if these suggestions and insinuations are my only cause for complaint - and "complaint" is far too strong a word, really - then The Hobbit fares better than both The Two Towers and Return of the King, which in turn are nearly flawless despite each containing a moment that makes me shout at the TV every time. + 

Galadriel is not the only character to be moved to The Hobbit from Tolkien's works. For the first time, we are introduced to Radagast the Brown, a third member of the order of Istari (commonly known as wizards.) Sylvester McCoy (familiar to many as the Seventh Doctor) portrays Radagast as a rather dotty character, with a darling little pet hedgehog named Sebastian - not a name that you could derive from any of Tolkien's languages, but one which suits the hedgehog perfectly. But I digress. Hidden beneath Radagast's silly exterior which earns ridicule from the haughty Saruman and certain critics, are strength, wisdom and courage equal to that of his peers. "Is he a great wizard?" Bilbo asks Gandalf, "Or is he more like you?" "I think he is a very great wizard," is Gandalf's answer, and I think I would prefer to take Gandalf's side on this matter than Saruman's. Power corrupts absolutely, as is proven by Saruman later on in Lord of the Rings, but there is an innate innocence to Radagast that prevents this in his case.

The great enemy of The Hobbit is, of course, Smaug the dragon, but he barely makes an appearance in the first part of the film - just flashes of stamping feet, swooshing tail and a single golden eye. But there are other foes that Bilbo and the Dwarves must face in the form of the trolls and goblins. These seem to jar a little in comparison to the evil creatures we have previously encountered in Middle-Earth, and it was very strange to watch the trolls sitting around the campfire grumbling and talking. The Great Goblin is quite jolly in a nasty sort of way, even singing a happy little song about how he intends to send the Dwarves to a gruesome fate. Such moments remind us that The Hobbit is a children's story, and yet at the same time, the villains are more complex than the Lord of the Rings orcs, with distinct personalities (albeit not particularly pleasant ones) which may cause a bit of a twinge of disconcerting pity when they get killed. There is a poignant moment when the blue glow of Bilbo's sword, an alert to the presence of goblins, fades away, the goblin having been killed by Gollum. It is strange and unsettling to feel pity for the orcs - battles against them were simple and straightforwardly good-versus-evil in the more "grown-up" Lord of the Rings. Yet that moment of pity foreshadows the critical turning-point in the entire Ring saga: when Bilbo Baggins did not kill Gollum.

It is not only the Hobbit's monsters' characters that seem a little out of place with how we've seen them so far in the cinematic Middle-Earth, but also their appearance. It is apparent that a lot more CGI has been used in the creation of the goblins, and perhaps also the trolls, than in Lord of the Rings. LotR was, of course, a big turning point in computer graphics in the movies, with Gollum a pioneer in motion capture technology. But whereas Gollum fits right at home among the other cast, thanks to the character's design and Andy Serkis' extraordinary acting skills, some of the Hobbit's CGI antagonists don't look as real as the old-style orcs which were actors in prosthetics. I thought that there was something slightly off about the Pale Orc, Azog, but it wasn't until my second viewing that I realised why. It was not merely that computer graphics look less solid than the real thing, but Azog, as well as one or two of the other creatures, looked like they had wandered off the set of Guillermo Del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth - probably no coincidence, as Del Toro also worked on The Hobbit.

Gollum, of course, stole the show, and I was saddened at the end of the film to remember that he only featured in the single chapter of the book and would not be seen again until Lord of the Rings. He is, as ever, alternately hilarious, cute and pathetic, but my friend and I agreed that we also got more of a sense of menace from him than in his previous appearances. Frodo, of course, knew of Gollum before their first meeting, but Bilbo was unprepared, alone and terrified, and he first sees Gollum violently killing a goblin twice his size. Freeman's and Serkis' acting in their game of riddles is marvellous, bringing the book to life in a bit of light relief but with an undercurrent of tension beneath.

"If Baggins loses, then we eat it whole?" 

"...Fair enough."

When Gollum discovers the loss of his "precious," the light relief is gone. The Ring is Gollum's sole reason for being, and its loss seems unendurable. But Gollum will go on hunting it for the next sixty years - or seventy-seven if you go by the book's chronology. Gollum's agony is heartbreaking, and the expressions changing from terror to compassion on Bilbo's face will stay with me for a long, long time. The entire saga depends on that single moment, and it could not have been done better. It was perfection itself.

I still don't care for 3D, though. I'm unsure whether the edition I watched on Friday 14th was the infamous double-frame-rate version of the film or not (I'm no expert in that sort of thing, being more concerned about the story, scripting and acting) but I did find it difficult to focus during the busy action scenes. The 3D is certainly well done, but I found it to be more of a distraction than an enhancement. There was one notable moment when I thought that a member of the audience had stood up in the aisle and blocked the screen, until I realised that it was a 3D character on the edge of the shot.

After Lord of the Rings, I hadn't been too excited about the possibility of a Hobbit film, and doubted the necessity of making more than one - after all, it is shorter than any one LotR volume. Yet despite its simplicity, it is a very full book, as I realised on my recent reread. Are three films really necessary? Well, I've no doubt that there are parts of An Unexpected Journey that could be trimmed with little detriment to the finished result, and I would have estimated that Jackson could probably have made two decent movies without sacrificing any plot. Yet if parts two and three are up to this standard, then as far as I'm concerned, the more Hobbit film there is, the better. (Bring on the Extended DVD!) An Unexpected Journey was an absolute joy to watch - though I strongly advise you to avoid drinking anything before or while watching it. I have already seen the movie twice, and expect to see it at least one more time. Probably more.

*I've been pronouncing it "Smorg" all these years, but apparently the "au" makes an "ow" sound. Similarly, the film rhymes "Thorin" with "Florin" but I've always called him "Thor-in."


+the Faramir-fail and the Sam-go-home-fail, if you're interested.

Movie Monday: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2

Well, there was only going to be one choice of film for today's Movie Monday review, wasn't there? 


It's been eleven years since I first started reading the Harry Potter series. When Goblet of Fire was first published, I was the same age as Harry at that point in the series, 14 years old. Seems incredible now. With the hype around the books being unprecedented, and then the film adaptations, Harry Potter has played a huge part in the lives of so many people who came of age alongside the boy wizard. After rereading the books in preparation for the final part of the final film, I decided against my usual habits, and allowed myself to be swept up in the general excitement, going to see the midnight premiere among other like-minded nutters, including one dressed as Bellatrix Lestrange, many in wizard's robes and school uniform, and one with a T-shirt bearing the sign of the Deathly Hallows. There was a great buzz of excitement and anticipation, and I hadn't felt as excited about a film since Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King was released in 2003. 


WARNING: THIS REVIEW IS FULL OF SPOILERS. IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU WATCH THE FILM BEFORE READING ON.

I think by now that most Harry Potter fans will have read all of the books, but to a casual viewer I would recommend that they remind themselves of the story so far, because Deathly Hallows part 2 does not give much chance to play catch-up, repeating just the final moments of the last half before plunging us back into the story where we left off. Not many franchises could get away with that trick, but Harry Potter makes its own rules. Part 2 doesn't feel like a whole film, but is the second half of a very long one. The break-in at Gringotts Bank would ordinarily be a big, climactic scene but launching into the scene in minutes without any preamble or build-up it felt a bit rushed. Helena Bonham Carter (with Emma Watson's voice) does a great Hermione-disguised-as-Bellatrix, and her attempts at walking in Bellatrix's boots reminded me of myself wobbling on high heels.

We haven't seen Gringotts since the first film, and with its rows of smart, suited goblin clerks, I found myself reminded of Mary Poppins. Warwick Davies, who has always been present in the background as Professor Flitwick, got a moment in the spotlight - albeit under heavy prosthetics - as the goblin Griphook. Griphook was civil, polite and quietly-spoken, which coupled with the black eyes and pointy teeth was more unsettling than any cackling Labyrinth goblins one might be more likely to expect. The ride down to the vaults was a great piece of filming that was obviously designed to make the most of the 3D effects, a bumpy rollercoaster ride that hearkened back to the descriptions of Harry's first trip with Hagrid in Philosopher's Stone. The special effects continued with the replicating gold, and of course the breakout on the dragon which smashed up Gringotts and half of Diagon Alley with it. I did wonder, for a moment, how Harry located the next horcrux so easily under the circumstances, especially as he had never seen it before in the film version.

And then, all of a sudden, Harry, Ron and Hermione were headed back to Hogwarts. Already? I thought. After all the time spent on finding and destroying the locket horcrux, it seemed very sudden, and even in the book it crashes on me quicker than I expect. And we are at the three-quarter mark, with all the best bits still to come.

Back at Hogwarts, it was wonderful to see nearly everyone back from the previous films, even just in the background: Dean and Seamus, Cho, Lav-Lav (I beg her pardon, Lavender Brown) and possible Percy Weasley. But there's no time to get soppy, as the school prepares for battle, two horcruxes still left unfound. The cost of protecting one teenage boy was astounding. Of course, the good guys are fighting for more than just Harry Potter, but the fact that all Voldemort sees as standing between him and absolute power is this one young man, and the lengths he's willing to go to in order to eliminate that one threat - wow! As the battle commences, and Hogwarts turns to chaos, Professor McGonagall takes control and is awesome, raising a few laughs ("Boom!") Someone's gotta do it. It looks like certain death for all, as our heroes muster all the courage they can to face Voldemort and his masses of Death Eaters. Remus Lupin and his wife Tonks (What do we call her now? Tonks-Lupin? Nymphadora?) reach for each other's hands, and the formerly uncrushable comic relief, Fred and George Weasley, can only manage wobbly, watery smiles. Ouch.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione have destroyed the next horcrux - and finally kissed! (And everybody says "Awww," "Hooray!" or "At last!") Harry has located another with astonishing ease, with the help of Luna Lovegood and the beautiful ghost of Helena Ravenclaw, before Malfoy and his cronies corner him in the Room of Requirement. I had a bit of a giggle as I saw some of the props stuffed in the Room of Requirement - including a cage of blue pixies from Chamber of Secrets. But the giggles didn't last long. Goyle's (Crabbe in the book) Fiendfyre spell goes wrong, and that's another horcrux down. One more to go - then Voldemort himself! It could be such a victory, but the enormity of everything they've been through hits our central trio and they break down for a moment in a powerful, very believable scene.

There was one part of the story that fans would never have forgiven the filmmakers if they had not done it justice: the chapter called "The Prince's Tale." Thankfully, there is nothing to forgive. The scene is perfect. Alan Rickman, always outstanding as Snape, excels himself in this film and though he is only in a few scenes, is the real star of this movie. His performance as Headmaster of Hogwarts is deliciously sinister, terrifying even when one knows his true allegiances. Even I felt myself wondering briefly whether or not he could be trusted, and I knew the whole story. His death was inevitable; such a great character was never going to survive the series, I think I've always known that. The snake attack was shocking and violent, viewed from behind a blood-smeared window, and then so very, very sad! At least in the film, I got the feeling that Snape was at peace in the end, not struggling against death but facing it with courage - which is one of the main themes of the story. Then, at last, we learn Snape's story, in a heartbreaking montage of scenes from his life, the final thoughts of a dying man twisting and merging together. Key moments from his childhood spliced together with Dumbledore's revelation of his ultimate plan, clips from all the previous films and an additional, devastating scene of Snape being first on the scene of James and Lily's murder. I always found Rickman's Snape to be a much more restrained character than Book-Snape, always cold and calm and contemptuous, unreadable. At the time of Half-Blood Prince, I was disappointed by the lack of the "DON'T - CALL - ME - COWARD!" line, but that complete control throughout the series makes it all the more powerful when now, at last, he bares his soul. Rickman's portrayal of Snape's grief and undying love is perfect, beautiful, heartbreaking. Oh, Severus! 


I have to confess that when the first couple of Harry Potter films came out, I wasn't overly impressed by Daniel Radcliffe's acting, finding him awkward and wooden at times. Well, he was eleven. Not any more. He has improved steadily throughout this series, and his performance as Harry courageously walks through the forest towards his fate is flawless. He conveys just the right mix of shock, courage and determination, fear and acceptance, and the scene is perfect.

I've been using that word a lot, haven't I? I won't say the entire film was perfect, though it was a very satisfying conclusion to the series that has been enchanting children and adults alike for over ten years, and very true to the source material. If I have a complaint, it's that I felt that the filmmakers sometimes skimped on the story to devote more time to epic battle scenes. I would have preferred more of Dumbledore's backstory, and there were a couple of times where plot holes were patched over, where minor plot points were omitted from previous adaptations which would later be needed - Sirius's mirror, and Harry mentioning Lupin's son that non-readers wouldn't have known he had. As I've always said, these films are great companions to the books, but don't always flow seamlessly on their own.

Dumbledore told Harry at "King's Cross" that words are the most powerful kind of magic, which seemed to be a comment on the story itself. J. K. Rowling has certainly proved the power of words with her storytelling.

Back in Hogwarts in the battle, two characters got their moments of glory, and they were well worth the wait. I'm referring, of course, to Molly Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Dear old Neville, who started off as a squishy, inept junior wizard in Philosopher's Stone, has grown over the last few films and turned into a brave, confident hero. I've always had a soft spot for Neville, so it's wonderful to see how his character turns out. I salute you, Longbottom! He also got a lovely warming moment, not from the books but that I'm sure many people wished would happen, the pairing up of our favourite outcasts. I know I approved.

I loved the epilogue, giggling at the appearance of Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and Draco Malfoy in their mid-thirties. Albus Severus is a very good-looking kiddy who I'm sure will grow up to break many hearts, and the family relationship was lovely. Some of the other children on the train bore a remarkable similarity to Harry and co.'s classmates - I wonder whether that was deliberate.  I broke into a grin watching the Hogwarts Express chugging a new generation off to Hogwarts, a safe Hogwarts which brings us full circle, back to the magical innocence from the beginning of Philosopher's Stone. 


I left the cinema with a warm feeling of contentment and happiness. Although Deathly Hallows Part 2 won't overwrite the movie in my head, I'm very happy for the two to coexist. Congratulations to all of the cast and crew for bringing these beloved books to life. You should be very proud of yourselves.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J. K. Rowling

Pottermania has been abounding in the last couple of weeks with the run-up to the final film in the series, which premiered in London on Thursday. I watched some of the live coverage, and when Alan Rickman turned up, I couldn't help singing, "Snape, Snape, Severus Snape!" from the Potter Puppet Pals online video, "A Mysterious Ticking Noise," and the tune which has popped into my head as a sort of leitmotif for Snape whenever he turned up in the books. So I nearly fell off my chair when, a couple of seconds later, I could make out what the crowd were chanting.

So, I may or may not have been persuaded to go along to the midnight showing of the final film on Thursday night/Friday morning. I've never been one for midnight anything. I'm too fond of my sleep. Instead of visibly succumbing to the Pottermania with the book releases and queuing at the bookshops, I got up early to buy my copy. But this is my last chance. It remains to be seen whether I might dress up... Expect a Movie Monday review next week.

In a way, I envy the next generation of kids. With Pottermania so strong over the last few years, I doubt there are many people who haven't read the books, seen the films or at least had important parts of the story told to them. When the fuss has begun to die down, and a new readership comes along, I envy them the opportunity to read the books unspoiled, not knowing what to expect, like (most of) my experience. But just in case there are readers who don't yet know the whole story, be warned:

This review may contain spoilers for book 7; definitely contains spoilers for books 1-6.

After six books whose major events fit into a neat little routine - Something slightly odd happening in the school holidays, a return to school, slow revelation that something odder is taking place in or out of the school, several mysteries to solve throughout the year building to a climax just before the summer holidays - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows breaks the pattern by not sending Harry, Ron and Hermione back to Hogwarts at all. Instead, the trio set out on their own to search for and destroy He Who Must Not Be Named's horcruxes - a collection of objects to which the Dark Lord has attached portions of his soul in his search for immortality. Considering that Harry has only the vaguest idea of what these objects might be, and no clue where in the country - or the world! - You-Know-Who has hidden them or how to destroy them, this is no easy feat.

Sometimes, in fantasy quests, the world seems very small indeed, and the near-impossible achievable with unrealistic efforts. This is averted in most of Deathly Hallows, which portrays the tensions that rise when three people are living in close quarters, away from the rest of civilisation, embarking on a hopeless quest - especially when they have as a companion a little piece of the most evil wizard of all time, shut into a locket. in addition, because the trio are no longer at school, the plot no longer has to fit into a single academic year. It does, but it's equally possible that it could take years.

After a brief respite in Half-Blood Prince, the Ministry of Magic stands once more against Harry, this time because of its being infiltrated by You-Know-Who's Death Eaters who are terrifying the rest of the ministry into submission through threat and force. Thankfully, as Harry and co spend much of the book out of contact with other wizards, the sense of oppression is less intrusive, and though we do see the horrible Umbridge again, she plays a much smaller part.

Although Deathly Hallows is exactly the same length as its predecessor, it feels like many books in one, with more action, more varied scene changes as the heroes apparate across the country, visiting friends, London, forests in the middle of nowhere, wizarding settlements, more middle-of-nowhere, wizarding businesses, being captured and escaping and eventually winding up back at Hogwarts school after all. Add to this Harry's visions back in and out of Voldemort's mind, and I wonder how this much story can be packed into just over 600 pages. No wonder Warner Brothers chose to make this story into two films instead of just one.

As if this weren't enough, we find out a lot more about Albus Dumbledore's youth, where it is revealed that the wise old wizard was not so infallible as we'd previously been led to believe. Indeed, the man had spent his whole life trying to atone for a tragic mistake from his youth. And at last, the true character of one of children's literature's most complex anti-heroes is revealed: the enigmatic Severus Snape.

I stand in awe of J. K. Rowling's storytelling, for Harry Potter's story is made from so many strands of plot and subplot, but Rowling does not lose a single thread, weaving them together perfectly in this finally installment. Everything is significant, nothing is left dangling, Rowling is truly the master of her craft. The saga culminates in an epic battle at Hogwarts which is a bit of a family reunion, reintroducing forgotten faces and old favourites. But it is rather a bloodbath! We are forced to bid farewell to some beloved characters, for in war, no one is guaranteed immunity. There were two characters, just two, that I thought were safe (and neither of them were Harry.) I was proven wrong, and it is just one cruel, devastating loss.

If the Horcrux quest seemed a little too conveniently resolved, and if the wand-politics at the end are confusing, these are small criticisms when compared to the rest of the finale. The final showdowns - for there is more than one - are poignant, beautifully written and epic, and a couple of unexpected characters get moments which I fully expect to raise a cheer in the cinemas. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is an utterly satisfying conclusion to this wonderful series that has captured the hearts and imaginations of children of all ages. While rereading the series, I have been fully absorbed both while reading it and when I was not, and it's strange to have finished it now. Roll on Thursday midnight!