Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Les Halles Cookbook, by Anthony Bourdain

Some people like Julia Child and enjoy reading her cookbooks or watching recording of her shows. I do. As much as I appreciate the informative aspect of her material, though, it has no rock'n'roll appeal. And I love rock'n'roll. And punk rock, too. So, needless to say, with this personality type I am much more inclined to like Anthony Bourdain much, much better than Julia.

Even though he says this is not a cookbook, I think you can cook very successfully from it. Take the recipe (or rather, the method) for making stock and demi-glace, for instance. Even though it doesn't give you that classic breakdown of ingredients and quantities in excruciating detail, it tells you precisely what you have to do. In any case, who really follows all the details in recipes religiously to the last pinch of salt? If you know people who do, make sure to ask them how much salt there should be in a pinch! Can they tell you how many grams so that we can all measure what we add in our attempts to recreate their recipes? Come on, you know you're going to fudge recipes to give them your personal imprint, so why stress?

With that said, I should also state that there are "proper" recipes in the book to satisfy the readers who want minutiae and step-by-step directions (kind of). But best of all, this is was written by Tony, so you get to read about his perspective on cooking, to learn something new, and above all you have the sarcasm, the wit, the intelligence that are characteristic of his writings. I'll be making many of these recipes, but I'll also read the book cover to cover because Tony is funny as hell and he knows his stuff inside and out.

Friday, March 16, 2007

What Einstein Told His Cook, by Robert Wolke

Kitchen Confidential, by Anthony Bourdain

Redemption, by Carol Berg

# Revelation, by Carol Berg

Transformation, by Carol Berg

Lyra's Oxford, by Philip Pullman

Sweet little book, or rather, short story. It happens in the alternate Oxford universe, which we see in His Dark Materials, and features Lyra and her daemon Pantalaimon. There are a few "goodies" in the book, such as a map of Lyra's Oxford, a postcard, and other little oddities. As Philip Pullman says in the preface, they may be connected to the story. Or they may not. Who is to know? Not me... This specific story talks about Lyra finding a witch's daemon flying around on its own. That starts a little quest where she tries to find out why this daemon is alone, so far away from the owner. There's some running around Oxford in the dark, what lays out a mysterious backdrop for a small story that whets the appetite. It's interesting and sweet, but I'm not sure I can say it is satisfying because it left me wanting more.

I have no idea what Pullman has been brewing, if anything, but I wouldn't mind a return to the HDM universe. In any case, a movie of The Golden Compass is in the works and is scheduled for release December 2007. I'm really looking forward to it! The movie's web site (http://goldencompassmovie.com) has some beautiful shots, but nothing that displays daemons.

Shadow of the Giant, by Orson Scott Card

To Reign in Hell, by Steven Brust

I thought this book had a lot of potential when I first looked at it. It is a fictionalized form of what Judeo-Christian scripture says about the creation of the world, of angels, and of mankind. Since this kind of material is thrown around after having been removed from canonical texts, it has an aura of myth that I thought would be interesting to explore in a work of fiction. Well, this book wasn't exactly a good opportunity for that.

The cast of characters is large and it became very hard to deal with all the names of angels and archangels after 30 pages. Michael, Samael, Raphkiel, Raziel, Belial, Beelzebub, Yaveh, Lilith, and a dozen others. I couldn't really say that characters were well developed. With so many similar names and little more than a few sentences to create a background for each character, it was hard to assimilate who they were individually and it was hard to develop any connection to them. For the short book this is, it was surprisingly hard to wade through and I attribute this to the fact that I never really cared much about what happened. This doesn't mean the story is uninteresting. It is creative (even if blasphemous) and it could have been a good read, perhaps even a great read, if the writing had been more careful.

How to Travel with a Salmon, by Umberto Eco

This is a great collection of essays that connects the amazing author of "Foulcault's Pendulum" with a more human persona. Well, by more human I mean that it shows his great sense of humour (sarcastic, sardonic, cynic), not that it sheds the high level thoughtfulness and intellectual point of view that defines Eco as a person. The first essay, the one about the salmon is killer. The last line, however, really suffered in the translation from Italian to English: "I asked for a lawyer and they brought me an avocado." Most of the essays, with the exception of "Stars and Stripes" are short, sweet, and carry a depth that must be explored by the reader according to mood and taste. I'm sold; I'll be reading his other collections in the future.

Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince, by J. K. Rowling

A barrel of fun. Although I found the first three books a bit formulaic, Rowling's style evolved in as the series went on, as the subject matter and the characters got more mature. I find it fascinating that if a young reader starts the series at Harry's age in the first book and reads one volume per year, he or she will find that each successive book will grow alongside the reader's level of maturity. The end is chaotic, fast, breath-taking and, heart-rending. I'm nervously and anxiously waiting for The Deathly Hallows, which I pre-ordered as soon as Amazon allowed me to.

Angels & Demons, by Dan Brown

Ah... why do I do this to myself? Oh, wait, I wanted something to read in the hustle and bustle of airplanes and airports during a long trip. Something that wouldn't require more than an infinitesimal amount of neurons to get through. It served that purpose, but not without considerable amount of pain. I had already had a taste of Brown in The Da Vinci Code, that nonsensical, plainly stupid fast action page-turner that hopes to incite "oohs" and "aahs" with every sentence. This is similar drivel. It's not fantasy, it's not sci-fi, it's not a thriller, it's not a mystery, it's not a feel-good love story, and it's aeons away from being literature. It's not even a book. It's more like a collection of used sheets of toilet paper tainted with half-lies, misconceptions, half-baked, and nonsensical and ideas. It is real garbage and assumes that the reader cannot reason enough to see its deep flaws.

The only ability that Brown has is the talent to confuse fact and fiction for the minds of the less knowledgeable or the incurious reader. Mr. Controversy scores big in this abysmally nonsensical extrapolation of a few facts fished out from other novels (perhaps The Illuminati Trilogy) and third-rate science fiction movies. Read it and weep; you've been warned. Mr. Langdon is more bullet proof than Indiana Jones, but without any charm and much less credibility. The "anti-matter" stuff is silly in a childlike way. Brown is like Marylin Manson in the intent to shock and to horrify. Manson at least scored one with me when he recorded Mechanical Animals (not to mention a few select songs from other albums). Brown, on the other hand... well, never again.

A Fire Upon the Deep, by Vernor Vinge

This was a fun space-opera. The beginning was a bit unsettling and hard to read for me. The author leaves plenty of room for the reader to figure things out instead of explaining everything. As a consequence, you go through many,many pages not quite understanding things, but in the end the prize for your persistence and effort is worth it. There are some really great ideas such as the galaxy being divided into "zones of thought" each one with different laws of physics. The "lupine" race of aliens mentioned in the back cover of the paperback edition is brilliant. The ideas on the evolution of sentient species is also very interesting. I nearly put this down after about 30 pages or so, but as I went on reading, more and more of Vinge's universe made sense and I could appreciate it better. In scope, this is comparable to the great works of science fiction, even though it doesn't even qualify as soft sci-fi.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, by Mark Haddon

Cool story told in the first person perspective of an autistic 15 year old boy who discovers that a neighbor's dog has been killed with a garden fork. It's a fast and light read that amuses and entertains, while at the same time giving an insight into how an autistic person thinks. The style reminded me a little of Nick Hornby's, but I mean that as a big compliment. Both authors are British, so perhaps this is not a fact and just my perception.

While the story starts out with the boy trying to investigate the dog's murder, it later on becomes an investigation of the shortcomings and screw ups of the human race. I enjoyed this read quite a bit, but thought that it didn't live up to the hype that was created around it. I particularly enjoyed the boy's penchant for mathematics, which comes through in the story in a number of fun way (for a geek, that is). For instance, the chapters are numbered as a sequence of primes and the text contains the solutions to more than one interesting discrete math problem. I think, though, that this would appeal very much to those not mathematically inclined and feel safe to recommend it.

Pursuit, by Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza

The comments in this review relate more directly to the original in Portuguese, which is entitled "Perseguido". It could have been a great book, but it's a major flop. The book is divided into three "stories", which really are subdivisions of one same plot. The first one is fantastic. It sets up the story of Jonas, or Isidoro, a man who shows up at a psychiatric clinic in Rio de Janeiro. There is seen by Dr. Artur Nesse, who seems much more troubled than his patient. In their first meeting, a "preliminary" session, the doctor builds the patient's case around the fact that while his legal name is Isidoro, he wants to be called Jonas. In the two following sessions, rather than trying to allow the patient to state the reason that drove him to seek medical help, the doctor insists on the identity issue. Little by little this strange pattern develops into something scary. The doctor starts feeling that the patient is trying to invade his life for some dark motive. Jonas/Isidoro starts out as a very mysterious character, the one who sparks the reader's excitement for the whole story.

In the second "story", Espinosa, the police chief investigator who headlines a series of Garcia-Roza's books, is brought by Dr. Nesse into the plot. The plot develops well enough along this story, but it is brought to an aggravating and disappointing sort of conclusion in the third story. It looks as if the author simply couldn't conceive of a good way to wrap up the book and just allowed it to come to an end where nothing is explained and where nothing seems to make much sense. The conclusion is heavy handed and is bound to anger the most generous reader. I recommend you avoid this book at all costs.

Exile's Return, by Raymond Feist

Awesome turn of the tide. This was by far the best book in the Conclave of Shadows trilogy and signals the reader that good old Feist can still deliver stories with the flair and the excitement of the original Riftwar Saga. What threw me off in the beginning was to discover that the point of view in this book belongs not to Tal, the protagonist of the first two volumes, but to Kaspar of Olasko. I really wasn't ready for that and in spite of a small feeling of disorientation in the beginning, this turned out to be an incredible read which further developed the storyline in a very clever and interesting way.

Kaspar starts out somewhere in the desert, in the continent of Novindus. After being abandoned there for his crimes, he undergoes some change of spirits as he lives for the day among ordinary, struggling peasants. He soon becomes a survivor, fighting for his subsistence. Until he comes in contact with a small bunch of brigands carrying a magical artifact. In the course of dealing with this finding, he crosses the continent visiting temples and seeking help from divinities. Eventually, the plot spreads out and puts him in the context of earlier, loved characters from Feist's universe. The artifact is the precursor of a greater evil to come to Midkemia and warrior and magic-users must team up to understand this threat and fight it.

The book ends without really ending and links directly into Feist's new Darkwar Saga. If there was any flaw with the Conclave of Shadows, I would say that it was its organization for the obvious sake of marketing. It seems that fantasy readers are used to trilogies and expect books to be packaged as such. The Conclave of Shadows appears to have been written in this volume for this reason alone. In all honesty, this is not a self-contained story and I understand that not every author aspires to be a Robert Jordan writing a story that spans a dozen volumes. As much as I enjoyed reading it, I would have enjoyed finding some kind of resolution when I turned the last page of Exile's Return. What I discovered was that the beat goes on and if I want to see what happens, I must go on reading. Fine by me, I enjoy Feist anyway, but a trilogy, this Conclave of Shadows really was not.

The King of Foxes, by Raymond Feist

Another really fun volume in the Conclave of Shadows trilogy. The narrative continues exactly where Talon of the Silver Hawk ends and the plot is a natural extension of what was started in the first volume. Court politics, swashbuckling, spying and sneaking, and a tiny bit of magic. Talon becomes Talwin Hawkins, agent of the Conclave within the court of the Duke of Olasko. His task, as much as his personal mission to seek revenge for the obliteration of the Orosini, his people, is to keep an eye on the Duke and on his ally Leso Varen, the necromancer. In the course of this mission, Tal confronts deep personal, ethical dilemmas of his own when following orders given by a scrupulous master. Quite a lot happens in this book which is impossible to mention without spoiling the reading, but this is a tale of one overcoming numerous hardships, of reaching the sky and then sinking to the depths of hell. It ends with a certain feeling of resolution, but also with the promise of much more excitement to come.

Talon of the Silver Hawk, by Raymond Feist

I'm still trying to come to terms with my thoughts on this book. First of all, even though this story is set in the same universe as Magician, it couldn't be more different. While one could say that different is good because it means the author is not repeating itself, I really wanted him to repeat himself. Why? Because what draws me to fantasy is magic, and Magician and the other books in the Riftwar Saga are hard to beat in that department. Some of Feist's great characters, like Pug and Nakor, are less than sidekicks in this story, what was somewhat hard to get over. (They make very few short appearances.)

Although the plots are very different, a subtle parallel exists between Magician and Talon: both are coming of age tales. While Magician talks about a boy who turns into a great wizard, Talon talks about a boy who turns into a great warrior.

Putting aside all my feeling of nostalgia for Feist's magic and looking at this book for what it is, it is hard to deny that it is fluff. Fun, yes definitely, but just fluff. (Unless the tide turns on the last two volumes in this trilogy.) The element of revenge in the story and the personal development of the main character smell a bit like Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo, but only slightly. The story progresses nicely in the style you can expect of Feist: a good investment in character development and then good, fast-paced action. A lot of sword fighting and some military strategy in the end, but hardly any magic. And to end this review, I must ask: "What's up with realism in fantasy? I want MAGIC!"

Great Sky River, by Gregory Benford

To start this rant, what upset me the most in this Galactic Center series is the abrupt change in gears between volumes 2 and 3. What starts out as an interesting story about first contact (vols. 1 & 2) becomes a Mad Max kind of story of survival of the fittest in a hostile environment. The first half of the book, although mildly entertaining, is just that. There's is barely anything in the way of the science fiction that I came to appreciate Benford for writing. (Then again, I've heard somewhere that the Galactic Center Series is his space opera.)

The story progresses well, meaning that is has something in the way of good pace, but it is really a scenario that has been explored countless times in bad science fiction. (It smells a bit like movies in the vein of Damnation Alley and Mad Max, with the difference that it doesn't happen on Earth.) Even though the setting has aged and been overused, there are a few interesting ideas there, though only a few.

Humanity has scattered around the galaxy in order to survive the confrontation with the mechs, a mechano-electronical, artificially intelligent race. In the planet Snowglade, the survivors had settled in citadels where they did nothing but reuse known technology for all kinds of purposes. That lasted a while until the mechs destroyed most of the citadels putting humans on a constant race of evasion and survival. Humans incorporated technology to extend their senses, to communicate with one another, and even to move faster. There's a little bit of discussion about these technologies, and that kept me interested for a while. I liked the notion of implant-extended brains that store dead personalities recovered from flesh and blood humans before they physically die. I liked the notion of "intelligence" scattered around the components of a mechanical being in some kind of distributed processor or memory. These bits, however, are tiny nuggets of ingenuity in a vast expanse of cliches.

In spite of all this potential, though, the book is not at all what I hoped it would be. It is borderline silly at times (the barking manmech being the apex of bad taste) and has not even a smell of good science fiction. I may continue to read the series due to my obsessive-compulsive tendencies not to leave a story before it's concluded and only when I need brain dead reading material. Besides, from this rock bottom low, it can only get better. Or can it?

Robot Visions, by Isaac Asimov

This book is equal to I, Robot minus the "Susan Calvin framework" plus additional short stories plus some of Asimov's essays on robotics. You could infer from the previous statement that I volunteered an accurate equation, but it is only, at best, a rough approximation. The story "Catch That Rabbit" featured in I, Robot cannot be found in this volume. Sure, you can argue that this was all due to an editorial conspiracy to make you buy both books, but then again, remember that Robot Visions has also the essays!

It is definitely worthwhile to get your hands on this book at least for the stories that complement I, Robot, some of which include or are centered around the robopsychologist Susan Calvin. (I enjoyed very much "Feminine Intuition" and "Galley Slave".) "Someday" is a computer fable, not at all involving robotics, but still it's a sweet and interesting story. "The Bicentennial Man", which has been turned into a movie with Robin Williams that I have yet to watch, is just plainly wonderful and worth the entire book on its own. And have I mentioned the non-fiction essays yet? It's always nice to be able to read the Good Doctor's thoughts outside his science fiction.

I, Robot, by Isaac Asimov

This was probably very first sci-fi book I ever read, back when I was 13 or thereabouts. The time was ripe for a re-read and although I was not as wowed as I was back then, it still a really interesting and satisfying book. This is a collection of stories about the three law robots conceptualized by Asimov, how they were integrated in society, how they evolved, and how the three laws constrained their behavior. In absolute terms, this is great science fiction and only gets better in the Robot novels. If you want to read these short stories, read them in "I, Robot" and not in "Robot Visions" or in "Robot Dreams". Here they are part of the story of Susan Calvin, the first robopsychologist. In other books, you will miss this background thread that gives an interesting context to all short stories.

I, Lucifer, by Glen Duncan

If you're offended by blasphemy, stay away from this book. If your religious views are more open minded and you feel like a good challenge (even if infinitely more humorous than serious) to your beliefs is healthy, then have fun with this read. The storyline is not complex, but the tone is just insanely funny and ultimately, this is what made the book enjoyable to me.

The basic idea is that Lucifer is offered a second chance before the apocalypse hits us: if he can manage to live the last days in the body of a mortal with a semblance of virtue, then he will be redeemed. The book is narrated in first person by the prince of lies himself. The language is so foul and the subject matter often so profane that even the most derelict reader will at times feel blood rush to the cheeks. Still, I found this book worthwhile for the riotous fun and for the philosophical and the religious themes that permeate the story. Of course, I had to put aside all my religious sensitivities for a few days, while I read it or else I would probably have felt like I was condemning myself to an eternity of suffering in Hades.

Turing, by Christos H. Papadimitriou

Oh, well... this one didn't meet half the expectations that I had upon discovering it in the Supercomputing 2005 conference. It's a novel, yes, about computation, yes, but it fails miserably at telling a cohesive, engrossing, and entertaining story. The best I can say about it is that it's a novel for the computer science geek, like me, that may motivate one to go hit the books on computability and theory of computation again.

The plot is simple. A romance starts in the Greek isles between a cyberwizard woman and an archaeologist. She leaves Greece all of a sudden abandoning her lover Alexandros, who is compelled to seek her out later on the global internet. In this search, he stumbles upon Turing, who is purportedly, some type of AI program (perhaps one which can pass Turing's test). Turing would have been constructed as some kind of teaching tool to educate people on computation. As the character Alexandros and Turing interact, the reader is presented with many a lecture on computer technology and computation, which fail to advance the plot in any way, shape, or form. The tutorials are very interesting and present concepts in Math and Computer Science with considerable clarity, but then again, I failed to see how they fit in the story. (I find it extremely hard to believe, however, that anyone without a solid background in Computer Science could muster enough interest to get through these lessons.) In the meantime, the other two legs of the love triangle meet, fall in love, and develop a relationship, a plot element that was as exciting to me as watching an egg cook in boiling water.

Arguably, this "novel" would want to fit in the cyberpunk genre and reach a different kind of height than the works of William Gibson, but it doesn't. It seems to me it was only a vehicle for teaching scientific concepts poorly disguised as literature. The romance which develops into a love triangle is insipid, the characters thin, and the resolution of the story anti-climatic.

On the other hand... I enjoyed the discussions on Cantor's diagonalization proof, on Turing machines and the halting problem, and other Math/CS topics. They made me want to go back to my old books and refresh all that beautiful theory.

Anansi Boys, by Neil Gaiman

The only bad thing I could possibly say about this book is that it's not American Gods. That aside, though, there are many, I mean many, good things I can say about this engaging, imaginative, well-written, and ultimately fun read.

This is the story of Charles Nancy, an ordinary bloke living in London, engaged to the woman he loves, despised by his mother-in-law to be, and competent at his job, but thoroughly dissatisfied with it. Charles, aka. Fat Charlie, has a father who live across the pond, in Florida, who is quite the insufferable character, according to him. Fat Charlie's memories of his dad are not exactly the best, the worst arguably being a prank he pulled on Charlie on Presidents' Day, when he told Charlie that on that holiday all kids go to school dressed up as their favorite American president. When Fat Charlie's dad passes away, he is summoned to the States for the services and it is so that Pandora's box gets opened. It turns out that Fat Charlie descends from a divinity and that his brother Spider is the one who got to inherit all the supernatural powers. It turns out later that what remains of his family reunites and that really bumpy times follow. The story is written with great sense of humor and with the imaginative force that only Gaiman is capable of wielding today. Oh, yeah, there is one other bad thing I can say about this book: it ends. To make matters worse, it will probably take Gaiman a while to release another book, but I'll be waiting.

Across the Sea of Suns, by Gregory Benford

This was a really interesting and fun read. As a sequel to the first installment of the Galactic Center Series, this book really hit the spot: it was better written in that the focus became clearer and the story was very gripping. The disappointment I had was not with this book, which ended is a suspenseful and exciting cliff-hanger, but in the volume that follows it in the series. I rushed to buy the next installment hoping for continuity and what I found was a big leap in time starting off at a completely different place in the story, far ahead in the future. I got so annoyed at this reinventing of the whole storyline that I decided to put aside the third volume for a time. When I have managed to dissociate myself for where book 2 ended, I'll be in good shape for reading the rest of the series for what it is and not for what I wanted it to be.

How to be Good, by Nick Hornby

Very enjoyable book. Differently from About a Boy and High Fidelity, this book is centered on a female character showing that the author can be quite convincing at portraying the outlook on life from a woman's perspective.

The story revolves around Dr. Katie Carr, mother of two (Tom and Molly), married to David, a professional cynic who writes a newspaper column entitled "The Angriest Man in Holloway." When Katie's marriage is hanging by a thread and it seemed that life couldn't get any more unsatisfying, she indulges in an affair and contemplates divorce. Neither of these options turn out to be an easy way out for her. Given some time to think and talk things out with David, Katie sets in motion a chain reaction of transformations in her family. Things get laughing out loud crazy for the reader's enjoyment and to the poor character's nightmare. David does a complete about face in life and embarks on a spiritual quest to be good followed on his heels by daughter Molly. Katie's dilemma only worsens as almost everyone around her suddenly decides to do good for the rest of mankind, apparently forgetting to be good to Katie herself.

All this messy story of personal drama is brought to you by Hornby's talent to find the funny side in every tragedy without losing sight of the underlying ethical or philosophical discussion. Ultimately, while this is a hilarious read, it invites you to (re)visit what it means for one to attempt to be good while facing the worst of hers or his personal demons. It doesn't ever get corny in the process (at least as far as I'm concerned) and it was a rewarding read for me. Perhaps what really made me love this book was the story's conclusion, that is, how Katie finds a way to cope with the hardest challenges in her life. Her solution validates mine and makes me feel that, after all, the road on which I'm going down may not be all wrong...

Into the Ocean of Night, by Gregory Benford

This is one of Benford's earliest novels and it reads very much as such. For a writer that has become known for writing hard sci-fi, this one seems almost on the soft side of things. The book tells a story of first contact with an alien civilization and in that it walks on the same ground as Carl Sagan's Contact and Greg Bear's The Forge of God. Whereas Contact is self-contained and ultimately satisfying, this book (the first in the Galactic Center series) is arguably only a prelude and at that one that didn't feel very satisfying to me.

The story is centered on an Englishman astronaut, Nigel Walmsley, a crusty, maverick of a character who becomes the center player in the first contact with one or more alien visitors. I like the character in that he's not your ordinary "Tom Cruise" all around nice guy. The story starts with Nigel being sent on a mission to investigate an asteroid which turns out to be some kind of alien space probe. Years later, a second ship enters our solar system and Nigel establishes communication with it. He's again put in charge of investigating and studying this ship. What develops from there is very interesting, but not terribly deep in its scientific speculations. You get the feeling that you're only eating the appetizer and the main course will only be served if you pay the additional fee. What disappointed me was the way the book ends: the writing alternates between reality and what is going on in Nigel's head. The latter is a long series of thoughts strung together which don't seem to add substance to the story and yet you have to read it all just because. I will eventually continue the series because I like Benford's work and have some hope that this will develop into something more solid and satisfying.

The Golden Apple, by Robert Anton Wilson and Robert Shea

I like this book, which is the first in the Illuminatus! trilogy. For some reason, however, after reading it, my interest for the trilogy dies. This has happened twice in the space of 10 years... This is not to say that it is uninteresting or not a worthwhile read. What I think it means is that although the subject matter is a lot of fun for me (otherwise I wouldn't have tried to read the trilogy a second time), the style gets to me after a while.

The story is centered around the bombing of a magazine devoted to the discussions of various delirious and paranoid conspiracy theories. As the investigators study the disappearance of the owner of the controversial rag, a series of memos on the Illuminati, a secret society that purportedly aims to control the world, is uncovered and scrutinized. As this is happening, the narrative jumps around, and perhaps too much so for me. Paragraphs in different plot lines are presented in rapid succession making it hard for the reader to concentrate on any of them. It may well have been the authors' intent to lay out all the pseudo-facts (?) in this scattered manner to give the reader the sense of loss which would result from the contemplation of all those possibilities.

Other than being a bit hard to read for the lack of a sense of direct continuity (sometimes a linear plot goes a long way to keep the readers' interest), this is a funny book which is fun to read. The conspiracies go from JFK's assassination, to Dillinger's mystical powers, to George Washington vs. Adam Weishaupt, the arcane symbols in the one-dollar bill and well beyond. Perhaps some day soon I'll come back to read the two remaining books, but I needed a break to read something that I could sense was clearly going somewhere. I insist in saying that no other book about conspiracy theories can ever hope to be better than Umberto Eco's "Foucault's Pendulum", which is on my bookshelf begging for a third read.

The Physiognomy, by Jeffrey Ford

Thanks are owed to my student Derek, for recommending this fun read. This is a very interesting and twisted fantasy set in a universe without dragons, elves, and dwarves, for a great, big, welcome change. In this universe, the center of attention is a place known as the Well-Built City, which is governed by a totalitarian regime. The law in this place is enforced pro actively (as in "Minority Report") as well as reactively. The investigations of violations are carried out by physiognomists, who determine one's propensity to commit crime with great degree of accuracy. Just by taking measurements of one's body parts, the physiognomist can determine one's shortcomings, and even past and future deeds. Physiognomist First Class Cley is sent to an investigation outside the city and his findings set in motion a bizarre story that is hard to put down until the last page is turned. The story has elements of Kafka in its dark humour and stifling nightmarish settings. The story talks about the search of a paradise kind of place, but I feel that the setting is just an excuse to show the transformation in the soul of a man much used to nearly limitless power. This is the first installment in a series which continues with "Memoranda" and "The Beyond".

The Watchman, by John Littman

Interesting non-fiction about Kevin Poulsen, a phone phreak turned hacker, who just could not stop himself from messing with the phone companies. It's a fast paced read, but at times it seems a bit cluttered with technical jargon that only a select few can hope to understand. Other than that, it feels quite journalistic in the sense that it follows the style of your average news publication. I find that at times it relies too much on hyperboles (as perhaps does your evening news) to keep you interested. The book paints Kevin Poulsen as a unidimensional character, too much of a cardboard personification of evil someone who is actually flesh and bone. It is probably true that his personal flaws are perhaps more exaggerated than in the average person and that his behavior shows evidence of some kind of addictive tendency that pays no regard for his self-preservation. What I didn't like very much, however, was the fact that the portrait of Poulsen painted by Littman looked too much like characters from works of fiction that are completely devoid of morals or even concern for the consequences of their actions (notes of Mr. Ripley, from Patricia Highsmith's fiction). The Poulsen in this book hardly ever wanders into ethical quandaries and acts mostly on self-centered uncontrollable whims. I question whether he really was like that and believe that, as a journalist, Littman could have made a more balanced account by discussing *what* Poulsen did together with *why* did it. Was he obsessive compulsive? Was he devoid of moral programming? Was he just a deviant personality in search of power? Why did he exposed himself so blatantly in the events that lead to his capture? I would have liked to get a better glimpse into the psyche of a hacker, but this book was quite shallow in this respect.

The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Warning: I'm going to rave about this book; proceed with caution.

I'm not quite sure why I picked this up. Maybe it was because someone likened the writing to Dickens', Eco's, or Garcia-Marquez'. Maybe it was because someone said it had elements in common with the movie "Angel Heart". Maybe it was because it spent a long, long time in the best sellers list in Spain. In any case, what matters is that I did read this fantastic book, which I enjoyed more than any other in the last year.

The plot is very intriguing and I won't tell you much about it other than this: A boy finds a book in this mysterious "Cemetery of Forgotten Books". He wants to read more by the same author and discovers that those titles are being systematically hunted down and burned by this mysterious man, who takes the name given to the devil himself in one of these novels. The search for the books and for information on their author is the magical spark that leads to the development of the entire book. I enjoyed the plot (that's all I can say without presenting spoilers), but what I liked the best was how the story was told. Zafon writes beautiful prose that casts a fog of romance about the most inconsequential facts. A screenplay from this book could hardly turn out to be a more vivid, graphic experience.

It's not been three weeks since I finished this book and all I can think about it how much I wish I could read it again for the first time. I found it extremely moving, surprising, and poetic. This kept me reading very late into the night, yearning to know what followed but heart-broken that my drive would only propel me faster toward the inevitable end. The characters stayed with my for several days - I was reluctant to start another book for fear of losing the sweet aftertaste this story left me. I recommend this to anyone who would enjoys a very human coming of age tale, with deep explorations into the human soul, with strong elements of mystery, history, romance, and political intrigue.

By the time I finished this book, 2005 was only barely half-way through, but I'm confident that I won't be able to read anything that will top it this year. I found this book to be one of those gems that can only rarely be produced and feel sorry for Zafon in that anything else he writes in the rest of his career as a writer might be unfavorably compared to this wonderful book.

Utopia, by Roger MacBride Allen

This is the last installment in a trilogy set in Isaac Asimov's Robots universe. The good old Asimovian robots are governed by three fundamental laws of behavior which ultimately determine their roles in society. The laws state that a robot can never by action or inaction harm a human being, that a robot must always obey orders given by human beings unless they contradict the first law, and finally that a robot must protect its own existence, unless this creates a contradiction to first two laws.

Allen's work has expanded this universe by introducing two other variations of robots. The first is the No-Law robot, which is unconstrained by design, emulating a human being's freedom of will. Only one of these is ever built, Caliban, who is the protagonist of the first novel in the series. The second is the New-Laws robot, which is granted a calculated measure of freedom, but still is designed to never take any direct action that can result in any harm to a human being. The new laws virtually freed the robots from the tyranny of mankind, but still manage to create beings that are bound to collaborate with humans.

The potential for the construction for interesting and exciting stories in this setting is enormous. There are opportunities to explore topics in the impact of technology in society, in what it means to be human, and in what course our species might take in the future. In summary, the setting is excellent in that it is Asimovian to its core.

The first two novels mined this ore with relative success and managed to almost continue the tradition of the Elijah Bailey novel, which was a mixture of whodunit and sci-fi explorations. This third installment, though, fell quite short of the conclusive climax that it could have been. It was by sheer power of will that I managed to finish reading Utopia, which I really wanted to like, but couldn't.

The premises are that the terraformed world of Inferno is doomed to revert back to its original inhospitality. In order to attempt to stabilize the situation, a scientist posits that a controlled comet crash can be used to dig a massive canal on the surface of the planet. The canal would connect two large bodies of water and create a self-regulating mechanism for temperature and moisture on the surface of Inferno. The operation is far from risk-free and requires the collaboration from the robotic contingent of society. The substantial risk, however, interferes directly with the laws that govern robot behavior creating a certain level of tension that carries through to the end of the novel.

I felt that although the plot had certain interesting elements, I never managed to care for anything that happened. I attribute this mainly to the fact that characters are so poorly developed that the reader feels little or no empathy for any of them. The story felt somewhat like a cold collection of conjectures that, although interesting, never spark any passion in the reader.

A Window in Copacabana, by Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza

Author binge, yes, I'm guilty. This is the fourth book in the "Inspector Espinosa" mystery series. Of all the books I've read in the series, so far, this was the first one that I couldn't crack on my own and I'm happy for that surprise. Espinosa is a great character who develops more and more with every additional book. Garcia-Roza's writing clearly shows a lot of love for the city of Rio de Janeiro and more than being post-cards, his books read like personal invitations to the sensual, seductive city.

An expatriate like me will either find sheer delight in traversing the city with the characters or be struck with sharp pangs of homesickness. Actually, for me the two feelings alternate with even and odd pages.

The story follows a serial killer who wipes out member of the police force and their extramarital affairs. There comes "Inspector" Espinosa to investigate the murders. I'm not sure inspector is the best translation to English of the word delegado from Portuguese, which refers to the head of a precinct, but so be it. I found the end surprising and somewhat satisfying, though a bit rushed. Still, it was a very enjoyable read which I recommend to mystery buffs.