Clan of the Cave Bear

Clan of the Cave Bear by Jean Auel

I'm calling time on this one; I'm not finishing. I read it before... at least a couple of times... but that was 20 years ago, and it did not age well. The brief summary: Ayla, a Cro-magnon girl, is orphaned in an earthquake, found by Neandertals, and raised among them, until her differences, and the enmity of the heir-apparent of the chief, forces her into exile.

One part is somewhat forgivable, and some fun world-building. Auel's Clan (Neandertals) cannot speak well, so they have an elaborate sign language. This is the forgivable part, because a Neandertal hyoid bone (the only bone in the body not connected to another bone, so easily lost when dealing with skeletal remains) had not been found, so the consensus when she started writing was that Neandertals could not speak with the same fluency of of modern humans... the hyoid is part of what lets us make such a wide variety of sounds.

The rest, though? That gets a bit less forgivable. Neandertal society, as presented, is absolutely sex-differentiated, which is what makes Ayla, who does not have the biological sex-differentiated memories a near outcast. Clan women would not consider touching weapons, because the culture of the Clan is ingrained into every member... but, Ayla, being Cro-Magnon, does not have that, so she learns to hunt. Several times, pedophilia is presented as being normalized in the society ("beguiled by some young coquette" was the phrase used), and a major story thread is her repeated rape by the story's antagonist (which is culturally supported, naturally, since Clan women are naturally subservient to men in all things). This is compounded by the fact that Neandertals are described as pretty uniformly brown, with brown eyes, extensive body hair, and bushy hair on their head, while Ayla is blue-eyed and blonde-haired, leaving to a reading where the precocious and clever beautiful white girl is raised by these benighted, barbaric brown people with their backwards ways.

I liked it well enough when I was younger. But this story starts at the deficit of being based on old archaeology, and runs downhill from there, through racism, sexism, and rape.

Sword of Fire

Sword of Fire by Katharine Kerr.





I really enjoyed this book; it was great to return to Deverry, and catch the Easter Eggs to previous books that she has sprinkled throughout (Easter Eggs/historical references, take your pick).

Two things I would have very much liked to have in the book, however:

1) A Map. I've never been 100% clear on the geography of Deverry and the environs, and a map would've helped me visual what's going on a lot better.

2) A dramatis personae. We're dealing with entirely new characters, almost all of whom have names that are used in both the common and familiar form. A list of characters and a sentence about who they are would've helped keep them straight... especially when their names are similar. (less)

Legends of Luke Skywalker

Mostly an enjoyable read of short stories that might be told about Luke Skywalker in the galaxy. The frame tale is of young deckhands telling stories of Luke Skywalker as they travel to Canto Bight (and, eventually, helping a stowaway). Some of the tales were amusing; The Myth Buster was fun, and not to be taken seriously. Fishing in the Deluge, about Luke seeking other ways of learning the force, and I, Droid, about Luke's devotion to R2-D2 were two fun ones. My least favorite was the Tale of Lugubrious Mote; I've never liked tales of the variety of "Your hero is an idiot, *I'm* the REAL hero".

A light, quick read, fun for what it is.

Spy, Spy Again

I've been reading Lackey's Valdemar novels for more than a decade, checking out each one as soon as I become aware of it. They are good, but seldom revolutionary, tales of gifted youngsters in a magical world, learning their place in it. I fondly, jokingly, call them "Pony Fiction", after an old Onion article about a 6th Grader beginning work on the "Pony Trilogy"... a series of stories about a girl and her magical horse.

In every book, there is a way the protagonist is different... Talia was a girl dreamer in a subculture that suppressed women. Vanyel was a gay teen, then man, in a culture where that was not acceptable. Mags was an abused orphan who nonetheless maintained his decency of spirit. As a given subseries progresses, we see the protagonist grow in their talents and relationships, becoming more confident and capable. I'm a bit old for that to touch me quite as much as it might have thirty years ago, but I recognize it... these are books that help kids feel good about themselves. That show teenagers that others have problems -- either like their own or somewhat different -- that they overcome, in part by building up a network of friends who accept them for who they are. And that makes them important. Even 30 years ago, Mercedes Lackey was doing representation, making a gay man not just the center of her story, but the legendary mage whose power still echoed in Valdemar eight hundred years later. While Vanyel's sexuality, and how it affected his relationships with his family, was certainly important to his tale, it was not a tale about the Gay Wizard... it was a tale about a wizard who happened to be gay.

Spy, Spy Again is a story about an incredibly close platonic relationship... Tory and Kee are inseparable, and have been throughout the two previous Family Spies novels. Their Gifts complement each other, and they are close friends. But Spy, Spy Again challenges this, as Kee starts to drift away, lured by the promise of life beyond the borders of Valdemar and an infatuation with a Sleepgiver (i.e. assassin) they see in their shared dreams. Being outside of Valdemar opens up Kee's possibilities in the most literal way... his gift of magic, suppressed by ancient spells laid upon Valdemar... blossoms when away from it, and those familiar with the world of Valdemar know that Kee's abilities have the hallmarks of someone very talented in magic indeed.

But Kee is not our point of view character. We see this through Tory's eyes. We see Tory recognizing what is happening within Kee, and understanding that his friend was growing away from him... not out of a lack of care for Tory, but from a need to grow in his own way. Tory, bound by duty and training to Valdemar, won't go with Kee... but Kee, bound by love and now anathema to the ancient magics which protect Valdemar, can't stay with Tory.

In some ways, I think someone less familiar with the Valdemar tales will find more enjoyment in this story than I did... while it was a cozy read, and somewhat a relief to return to Valdemar, it's also somewhat predictable, falling into the pattern that Lackey has walked so often. I think it is accessible to those not familiar with Valdemar, however, though some of the bits of lore (such as why Valdemar doesn't have proper magic) might be a bit obscure if you don't already know them well.

Way of Fire and Ice

Way of Fire and Ice:The Living Tradition of Norse Paganism

 by Ryan Smith

So, I read some of the other reviews on Goodreads, where they said it was anti-fa trash masquerading as heathenism. Being, myself, anti-fa and a sometime heathen, I, of course, had to check it out. And, well, it is unabashedly anti-fascist heathenism, or, rather, Norse Paganism, as Smith terms it.

While chapters two through nine are a fairly basic primer on paganism in a Nordic context, the first chapter lays out the difference between The Way of Fire and Ice and mainstream Asatru... namely, The Way of Fire and Ice is concerned with being a living tradition in the modern world, rather than being a strict reconstruction of the beliefs and lifeways of medieval Scandinavians. When presented with a problem or social issue, a reconstructionist will say "What would Uncle Einar the Viking have done", while someone involved in a living tradition will ask "What should I do, in a modern context, learning from the lore and the examples of the Powers."

The intent is to establish Norse Paganism as a modern faith, with something to offer to modern people, rather than a conservative throwback. It's also avowedly anti-folkish, which is a pernicious strain of racism that terns to be common (though not universal) among more reconstructionist heathens... the idea that, since our image of Vikings is white men with blonde hair, that those who are not white are not allowed and should "seek their own gods, not ours"... funnily, that never seems to apply to anyone white enough, regardless of their actual ancestry. And, so, Smith lays out the reasons why faith in the Aesir, Vanir, or the assorted wights and spirits must move beyond reconstruction and into modernity.

This is an excellent book. I have been involved in heathenry for more than twenty years, including some time, as a young man, when I was on the fringes of folkishness, myself. But Smith lays out the whys and wherefores of a moral and ethical heathenry that can address the modern world, looking forward, while drawing strength from the past; reaching outward, while drawing strength from within.

MLIBS

With the decrease in public library budgets, it is inevitable that librarians will need to diversify their skill sets to keep up with the changing climate. Older librarians will need to be able to keep up with the computers and not roll their eyes at the latest trashy genre that is popular (which is, quite obviously, very different from their preferred trashy genre). Newer librarians will have to bring more to the table than verve and a working knowledge of Microsoft Office and Google. And a few librarians are going to have to specialize in new disciplines, created out of the current financial crisis. Librarians with fluency in job-search websites and expertise in fine-tuning resumes with a few quick keystrokes. Librarians who can line up speakers on important topics like starting your own business, publishing your own book, or making your money go farther. And, of course, librarians who can serve as bouncers.

As many of us know, bouncers are the grim-faced individuals who made sure that the disruptive people didn't interfere with others enjoyment of their facilities and, while the traditional image of a librarian is of a grim-faced shusher, we also know that this is simply not practical in an age of web-based computer games, ubiquitous cell phones, and scampering children. We need librarians who have specialized in shushing, who have the presence to throw out without a throw down, but who have the patience to mediate a meltdown without disturbing the entire library. Those possessing a MLIBS (Masters in Library, Information, and Bouncing Sciences) know how to walk the fine balance between accessibility and anarchy, between child-friendly and charlie foxtrot.

It goes without saying that this specialty requires one who is an excellent shusher, able to quiet with a glance and a hand gesture, but also one stalwart enough to remind lingering patrons that the library is closing, without specifically mentioning that we all want to go home. They must be fleet of foot and firm of voice to slow the children who fail to understand that wide reading spaces do not mean a place to run, nor do close-packed stacks provide the ideal ground for hide and seek. A resistance to embarrassment is necessary when teenagers (and the teenaged at heart) mistake the seclusion of the stacks as an ideal place for amorous activities.

Communication abilities are a must, for who else is going to write up the inevitable police report when politely worded suggestions fail to oust the mother of a screaming child or the gang of youth dominating the computers? Coursework for the specialization in Bouncing includes proper etiquette for dealing with parents who abandon their children in the library for long summer days, or use the library as a makeshift daycare after school. In addition to clear, concise, and accurate, skills must include excellent non-verbal communication and the rudiments of popular languages in one's area... who has not needed to search their memory for "Silencia, por favor" or "No corra?", to say nothing of Vietnamese, Urdu, or Mandarin? Diplomacy and tact must be cultivated, for when our more fragrant patrons must be asked to leave, so other patrons can breathe again, and also when subsequent patrons ask "Was there a dog in here?" A voice of authority is necessary when politely asking those with laptops to move out of the children's area, but it must be gentled when dealing with a runaway toddler.

The Green Fields of France

Ok, content note: This deals with school shootings.

If you're subscribed to this mostly-abandoned blog and wondering where this comes from, well, there's not much I can say; this was a convenient place to put it.

So, a month or so ago, I riffed a couple lines out of "Green Fields of France (No Man's Land)" about a school shooting. I heard the Dropkick Murphys version again on my way to work, and it brought those feelings back, so I took a bit today to write it out fully.

It's a bare filk; I left a lot the same, which is, in some ways, even sadder, that a poem about World War I maps so well to the mass murder of children at school.

***

Oh how do you do, Matilda McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for a while in the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
And I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the young fallen in 2016
Well I hope you died quick
And I hope you died clean
Or Tilly McBride, was it slow and obscene

Did they send out their thoughts
Did they send out their prayers
Did they tell your classmates how everyone cares
Did they give you a page in the year book
Did anyone do anything for the life that they took?

And did you leave a mom or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined
And though you died back in 2016
To that loyal heart you're forever nineteen
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane
In an old photograph torn, tattered, and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown plastic frame

Did they send out their thoughts
Did they send out their prayers
Did they tell your classmates how everyone cares
Did they give you a page in the year book
Did anyone do anything for the life that they took?

The sun shining down on these green fields this day
The warm wind blows gently and your cousins still play
Your story has vanished off the front page
Replaced in the news with the next outrage
But here in this graveyard filled up with your friends
Some come to cry, but none make amends
For Congress and Statehouse will take no stand
While a whole generation is butchered and damned

Did they send out their thoughts
Did they send out their prayers
Did they tell your classmates how everyone cares
Did they give you a page in the year book
Did anyone do anything for the life that they took?

And I can't help but wonder Matilda McBride
Do any who lie here know why they died
Did we really believe them when they say that they care
Do they think that we are so unaware
That the suffering, the sorrow, the fear and the pain
The killing and dying it was all done in vain
Oh Tilly McBride it all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again

Did they send out their thoughts
Did they send out their prayers
Did they tell your classmates how everyone cares
Did they give you a page in the year book
Did anyone do anything for the life that they took?

***


(If you're wondering, changing "Willy" to "Matilda/Tilly" was a conscious choice; not only to change the apparent gender, but also as a nod to "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda")