Farthing, by Jo Walton

Imagine a world where England made peace with Nazi Germany after the Battle of Dunkirk and World War II never really happened. Hilter overtook all of continental Europe and got into a prolonged war with Stalin, still going strong in the 1949 of the book. Against this setting we find a murder of a senior Parliment official in the opening pages. There are two voices telling the story, with each chapter flipping between them. Lucy Khan, a member of the Peerage disgraced by marrying a Jew, and Inspector Carmichael, a lowborn detective at Scotland Yard. While ostensibly only one story, each character is actually telling a slightly different one: Carmichael goes about solving the mystery, but Khan is really describing the slide of England into fascism. The characterization was weak, with most people falling into one of three categories: good, evil, or stupid. This made the whodunnit aspect fairly straightforward; I thought it was obvious what happened only a few chapters in. The politics are what makes the book interesting, however, and are presented in such a fashion that a fascist Britain becomes a very believable thing.

One throw-away line that made me smile was when it was mentioned that Guy Philby became junior minister at the Foreign Office. The name Guy Philby is a mashup of Guy Burgess and Kim Philby of the Cambridge Five, the most successful espionage ring ever uncovered. Walton also refers to the famous “scientifiction” book Nineteen Seventy-Four; ironically it was purchased as a gift for the framed suspect to take his mind off the situation. If the content was similar to our Nineteen Eighty-Four then I suspect it won’t be much of a distraction!

Overall I enjoyed the book, although it was a bit heavy-handed in places. The ending was really good, however, with the author not taking the easy way out by granting the protagonists happy endings and having the villains exposed. Instead, we get a more realistic yet disturbing finish, setting up the next book in the series.

First Sentence:

It started when David came in from the lawn absolutely furious.

Old Man’s War, by John Scalzi

Set in the near future where Earth is involved in an interstellar war, our hero joins the Colonial Defense Forces when he turns seventy-five. The Fountain of Youth hasn’t been found and neither has technology or medicine extended life-spans to hundreds of years, so what the army wants with the elder generation is the mystery explored in part I. Parts II is more straightforward space military fiction, and part III gives a closer look at the aliens along with a satisfying conclusion.

Scalzi writes in a fashion that is both engaging and smart, something I treasure in pulp fiction. For instance, part I ends with an excellent foreshadowing of what happens at the conclusion of part II, but is subtle enough so that you don’t realize it until it hits you in the face. Humor is prevalent as well, with the main character cracking jokes at which nobody laughs throughout. One of my favorite parts was when we find out the names our band of friends give to their personalized AIs: Asshole, Dipshit, Bitch, Dickwad, Fuckhead, Satan, and Sweetie. Clearly one of the crew wasn’t as disturbed as the rest when the AI was activated! I quite enjoyed this book and look forward to the sequel, The Ghost Brigades.

First Sentence:

I did two things on my seventy-fifth birthday.

The Secret History of the Pink Carnation, by Lauren Willig

I read the other day that Brad Meltzer said it is okay for men to read chick-lit so I’m not embarrassed at all to say I loved The Secret History of the Pink Carnation! Using the device of a book-within-a-book, this is set in both present day and in 18th century Europe in a world where the Scarlet Pimpernel was a real secret agent. We are introduced to Eloise, a modern grad student investigating the successors to the Pimpernel: the Purple Gentian and the Pink Carnation. She is interesting, but the historical figures are where the book shines.

While a lot of fun, this doesn’t even try to be historically accurate. The women from the 18th century are sassy, well-educated, and would fit in to today’s society without any trouble; the men from all era are generally arrogant cads but eventually revealed to have hearts of gold. The inner monologues are quite modern and funny: “Kissing Amy. Bad idea. What the devil had he been thinking? He hadn’t been thinking at all; that was the problem. At least, he hadn’t been thinking with any part of him that worked in a logical manner.” Another bit I enjoyed: “Like? What an incredibly inadequate word like was. To say that he liked the idea of Amy dressed up as a dancing girl would be like saying Midas liked gold, or Epicurus liked food, or Miss Gwen liked poking her parasol at people.” And from the modern era, an affliction that Merck will surely have a pill for soon: “Unfortunately, I knew exactly what I was suffering from. LIPID (Last Idiot Person I Dated) syndrome: a largely undiagnosed but pervasive disease that afflicts single women.” Funny stuff.

Comedy, historical fiction, and contemporary chick lit are an interesting mix. While I wouldn’t call this overly intellectual, I would call it fun. I think I’ll try the next few in the series and see if they hold my interest.

First Sentence:

“...The city of your birth awaits your return.”

Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, by Jules Verne

The plot is split into two halves: first is the hunt for a mysterious and deadly sea creature, and then an adventure on Captain Nemo’s famous submarine, the Nautilus. The early part is exciting, even though because of the book’s fame the reader already knows the sea monster is really the Nautilus. Once the narrator is on board the sub, the excitement fades quickly. The ship travels around the world, visiting sunken ships, underwater forests, and battling giant squids; this half of the book felt more like a collection of short stories than a cohesive narrative. Some of these vignettes dragged on too long, and the catalogs of sea creatures were interminable. The conclusion was a deus ex machina that I found quite unsatisfying; disappointing for such a promising start.

One thing I found fascinating was that there was no villain in the book, no mission to accomplish, no quest to complete. Everyone has a sense of honor that governs their actions, and there are no one-dimensional characters. Nemo kidnaps the narrator and his party, but did so to save their lives. Ned wants to escape, but doesn’t hesitate to join the crew to fight off attackers and returning the weapon he used when successful. This depth makes the story more interesting, even in the slow parts.

First Sentence:

The year 1866 was signalized by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and inexplicable phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten.

Myths for the Modern Age, edited by Win Scott Eckert

Philip José Farmer believes that the meteor which landed near a small village in England in 1795 irradiated roughly eighteen people and changed their genetic makeup. These mutated genes were passed on to their descendants, many of whom became extraordinary individuals. These amazing people have been the real-world models for some of the most popular fictional characters through the years, such as Sherlock Holmes, the Scarlet Pimpernel, Allan Quatermain, and James Bond. Myths for the Modern Age is a collection of faux-scholarly essays exploring this concept.

As with many anthologies, the various authors here are hit and miss with their efforts. The Arms of Tarzan by Farmer goes into excruciating detail about the coat of arms of Lord Greystoke, better known as Tarzan; this is easily the least interesting essay in the collection. Brad Mengel’s Watching the Detectives was my favorite, where we learn that Simon Templar, Lara Croft, Ellery Queen, Barnaby Jones, Archie Goodwin, and Robert Goren are all descendants of Sherlock Holmes. He also postulates that Holmes nemesis Moriarty had well-known offspring, such as “Howling Mad” Murdock, better known as the helicopter pilot for the commando unit known as the A-Team. “Intriguingly, the leader of the A-Team, John ‘Hannibal’ Smith, is the great-nephew of Sherlock Holmes making this perhaps the first time that a member of the Holmes family and a member of the Moriarty family worked together.” Connections like this make this concept a lot of fun!

At nearly 400 pages, this can be a long read—especially for the less interesting chapters. There is an excellent set of endnotes throughout the essays that give sources and hints as to who some of the more obscure characters are (Lew Archer, anyone?) but somewhere in the 200’s the numbers get out of sync, with the text and the reference mismatched; this led to quite a bit of confusion for me until I realized what had happened. All in all, I was disappointed by this book. The idea of a shared genealogy crossing fictional boundaries I love, but feel it fell short of its potential here. If you are a die-hard lover of conspiracy and literary humor then pick this up, but otherwise just go spend some time on Thom Holbrook’s crossover site.

First Sentence (from the introduction):

The Wold Newton Family is a group of heroic and villainous literary figures that science fiction author Philip José Farmer postulated belonged to the same genetic family.

Mage-Guard of Hamor, by L.E. Modesitt, Jr.

This book picks up immediately after Natural Ordermage, with our hero returning home to Recluce. Rahl is one of the whinier heroes Modesitt has given us, but we see him mature into a leader under the hard gaze of his mentor. I thought the twists were telegraphed and way too obvious, but the magic-and-military campaign kept me interested. The plot is as formulaic as all the other adventures in this universe, but I still enjoyed it. This is an entertaining read, perfect for a rainy afternoon or a crowded airplane.

First Sentence:

Rahl stood on the port wing of the fast frigate’s bridge, looking out at the seemingly endless gray-blue waters of the Eastern Ocean.

Implementing Lean Software Development, by Mary and Tom Poppendieck

This book examines the lean manufacturing approach pioneered by Toyota and how it can apply to software development. Lean boils down to seven principles: eliminate waste, build quality in, create knowledge, defer commitment, deliver fast, respect people, and optimize the whole. Many of these are familiar to agile proponents, but not all. Of particular interest to me was the last principle, optimize the whole. Developers have a strong tendency to suboptimize a problem, to “perfect” a small block of code without considering the bigger picture. Optimizing the whole means that instead of looking at an individual step you look at the entire value stream. When combined with a stop-the-line mentality that forces teams to solve problems rather than work around them, there is a lot of potential for not only higher throughput but for higher quality.

Another interesting idea presented here was set-based design: multiple teams solving the same problems at the same time in different ways. The thought here is you can have several groups all tackle the same issue, each taking a different approach or accepting a different amount of risk. They all work simultaneously, and at the end the best one of the solutions can be taken forward. I’ve never worked at a company that was willing to put this many resources towards a single problem but it is an intriguing concept.

Overall, a good book that any agile enthusiast should read. The writing isn’t as compelling as Tabeka or as interesting as Angus, but still well worth your time. Another winner from the Addison-Wesley Signature Series of books.

First Sentence:

Paris, France, July 1785.