ursula-k-le-guin « WordPress.com Tag Feed

Worth Reading: The Lathe of Heaven

Shannon — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 14:35:02 +0000

The Lathe of Heaven, Ursula K. Le Guin (1976)

In a near-future decimated by climate change and overpopulation, a perfectly ordinary man discovers an extraordinary talent: whatever he dreams becomes real. His efforts to escape what he considers his curse land him in the clutches of a psychotherapist, who uses a machine of his own invention and hypnosis to control the dreams and attempt to solve the world's problems. What results is a bizarre merging of the "real" world with the infinite worlds of dreams until the two can no longer be told apart and all worlds are on the brink of the void. This is a fascinating novel that explores the unknown power of our dreams, the dangers of playing god and the possibilities of infinite worlds.

A Rose By Any Other Name

fozmeadows — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 02:57:37 +0000

As a life-long afficionado of names, I can tell you off the top of my head that Alinta is an Aboriginal word for flame; that Byron means born by the cowsheds; and that J.M. Barrie invented the name Wendy because he wanted something 'friendly' to call his female lead. Even when writing short stories in primary school, I was convinced that my character names were crucial to who they were, and disagreed fiercely (though privately) with my teacher, who said that they could all be called Bob and it still wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference. Once I got my hands on a book of children's names I found at home, I spent endless hours reading through and making lists of all my favourites - not for any children I might one day have, but to use as characters. Names I liked wented to heroines (and, occasionally, heroes). Names I didn't, or which sounded ominous, went to villains. Inspired by Elyne Mitchell's Silver Brumby series - in which most of the horses had Aboriginal names - I procured an Aboriginal dictionary from my mother's study and started my own story along similar lines, looking up words for things like stars, water, speed and various horse-related colours.

Now that I'm older, I still care just as deeply about what to call my characters. Even in RPG games, the thing that takes even longer than rolling stats - either in real life or through a game engine - is choosing a name. It has to match my avatar's history, what they look like, who they are; and the thought of just calling them Stephanie and getting on with it rankles in a deep and resonant way. Because once you've named something, it stays named. And I'm ancient enough at heart to believe that there's power in names. Roma gypsies have always thought so, and children in that culture are given three names: one private, and never told lightly; one commonly used among the clan; and one for everyone else, which is almost never used except on paper. Fantasy writers as diverse as Kate Elliot, Ursula K. le Guin and David Gemmell have all been fascinated by the concept of true names, and put it to appropriate use in their stories. But although most people might dismiss the idea out of hand, it's worth having a look at the all-too-common disparity between the names we are given, and the things we are actually called.

For instance: my mother-in-law's name is Margaret, but only as far as records are concerned. To everyone else, she is Janie. My niece's name is Heather, but the family calls her Annie. Back in highschool, a friend's boyfriend was introduced to everyone as Tain, which suited him, and it wasn't until almost a year later that we realised it was short for Martin, which didn't. At college, everyone had at least three names by which they were known, not in the least because we were asked to make them up and adopt them in Orientation Week. Those of us who already had familiar nicnames used them, and were consequently never known by our actual given names; everyone else had either a corruption of a first-or-last name, or something entirely random. One girl, called Lauren, asked to be known as Trucka, following the logic that Lauren abbreviated to Laurie, which sounded like lorrie, which is a kind of truck. But it stuck, and nobody ever called her anything else. Then there's the Great Australian Tradition of oxymoronic names: fat blokes are Slim, short folk are Lofty, redheads are Blue, and so has it ever been, to the extent that an airline recognised globally for its distinctive red planes is called Virgin Blue. It's multi-generational, even: two of my mother's friends have been known as Chook and Vobbles since the sixties for reasons that are now completely forgotten, while there are people I know only by their online handles.

And in all this malarkey of names, I start to wonder: which are the ones with power? Which are, to borrow a term, merely safe and innocous use-names; and which are truly us? Juliet (or rather, Shakespeare) posited that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; which is true. But a rose by any other name would not be a rose; because the very nub of language is the point at which the word not only means, but is the thing. Think of Aztec pictograms, where each symbol stands for a whole word rather than a single letter. Then magnify the idea outwards. A word doesn't just stand in place of an idea; it is the idea. Looked at this way, names don't just mean us casually, merely as distinct from everyone else: they mean us specifically, behind the eyes and down to the bones, impossible to mistake.

The same idea is exhibited elsewhere in fantasy as the basis for spoken magic: the concept of a universal language, in which the word equals the thing to such an extent that speaking it aloud brings that thing into existence. For a real-world counterpart, one needs only look at the Bible: 'in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God, and the Word was with God' is undeniably rooted in the power of names, and it's worth noting that Hebrew, to the Jews, was (and still is) seen as the language of Creation; God's lingua franca.

Which brings us back to names, and the choosing of them. What with genetics, friends, cultural influences, free will and individual reactions to upbringing, there's a good argument to say that apart from life, a name is the only lasting gift a parent can give (unless, of course, the child grows up to change their name by deedpole, a-la commedian Yahoo Serious or that bloke in the Sydney phonebook called Zaphod Beeblebrox). So why not make it a good one? Granted, not everyone agrees on what makes a fantastic name, and given my geekish tendencies, there's a good chance that what I consider lovely might make the rest of the world flinch, but at the end of the day (to borrow a phrase abused to the point of ritual castigation by one forgettable Deputy Headmaster), it's putting in thought that counts.

Or, to recall that much-thumbed book of children's names, one could just read the notice that says, in bold print, not reccomended, placed with sensible good reason next to Jezebel (Hebrew), Lesbia (Greek) and Everhard (Old English).

A list of five

Mike — Sat, 05 Jul 2008 13:24:53 +0000

It's always nice when people do what I say... A less megalomanical way of saying that might be that it's always nice when people take my advice, which is clearer but has an unfortunate rhyme.

It is flattering when people take my advice, particularly on things which aren't necessarily a matter of good sense or judgement, like books or films. While I'm prone to throwing out reviews of various things I've seen and heard, I don't automatically assume that people will take it seriously.

Gary also said:

I’m not familiar with The Stars My Destination but, given your excellent taste, it’s going on the list.

This comment was immediately gratifying. So much so that I had to have my ego made smaller through surgery in order to be able to fit through the door of my house. Aside from that, it also inspired this post – what books would I always and consistently recommend to others people?

I have to admit that when it came to me, my immediate thought was, Great idea!, swiftly followed by, This is going to be a huge pain to write.

But looking at it, I can see my initial opinion was overly pessimistic: I enjoy books, I love books of all stripes. Fiction is my constant companion and narrative my constant joy. Why should it be difficult? I should be able to think of at least five books which I would recommend to everyone without hesitation.

And so I did. The following books are those which are on my list of constants – I would unhesitatingly and unswervingly recommend them. They are in no particular order:

I am Legend, by Richard Matheson
The Stars My Destination, by Alfred Bester
The Left Hand of Darkness, by Ursula K. Le Guin
The Talented Mr Ripley, by Patricia Highsmith
Moon Palace, by Paul Auster

I'm going to write a series, explaining why these books are on my list. The first of them will be I am Legend, and hopefully I'll be able to get one of these out a week, although in line with my BWO affiliation, I promise nothing. The segment detailing I Am Legend will probably be posted early in the coming week.

Does anyone else have a similar list? I'd love to hear from you if you do. Pingbacks for similar posts always welcome, too.

In other news, we packed up our office in the centre of Abingdon yesterday, which resulted in chaos on the part of some people throughout the day, while others, such as your faithful correspondent, were packed up early in the day and ready to go. It's actually a testament to the hard work of our business support manager that we've all had very little to actually do until now, and I made a point of telling her so. The crates will be delivered to the new place today, all ready for decanting first thing.

Basically, all I have to do is actually find my way there on Monday morning, which is easier said than done. It shouldn't be too difficult, and to be honest, the only worry I have is finding a decent route: the main roads between my house and there are rather busy at the best of times, and first thing in the morning is likely to be even worse. There are a lot of back roads, though, and it shouldn't be a problem to use them. It'll add a little distance to my journey, but I'm not worried about that particularly.

Right, I'm off to do my shopping so I can watch the last in the series finale of Doctor Who later. It's going to be a good'n!

Always Coming Home: an excerpt from the 'Some Brief Valley Texts' section

storyseeds — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 11:36:48 +0000

Words/Birds

A Madrone Lodge text.

What works for words may not work for things, and to say that two sayings that contradict each other cannot both be true is not to say that opposites do not exist. The word is not the thing; word and thing have each their own way. It is true that a town is made of stone, clay, and wood; it is true that a town is made of people. These words do not deny each other at all. It is true that a bird's way and the wind blowing make a feather fall; it is true that finding that feather in my way I understand that it has fallen for me. Those words deny each other in part. It is true that everything that is must be as it is, and that nothing is but the play of illusion upon the void; it is true that everything is and it is true that nothing is. These words deny each other wholly. The world of our life is the weaving that holds them together while holding them apart. The world is the bridge between the walls of a canyon, the banks of a river in an abyss, and words are the birds that fly across and across. They cannot be in two places at the same time. But they can cross and come back. It takes all one's life to cross the bridge to the other side. But the birds fly back and forth across the canyon, singing and speaking from one side to the other.

- Always Coming Home by Ursula K. Le Guin, page 330; Bantam Books edition, 1986; ISBN 0-553-26280-7

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin

Sarah — Wed, 28 May 2008 00:41:22 +0000

Date of Publication: 1968

Number of Pages: 183

Synopsis (from back cover): Ged was the greatest sorcerer in all Earthsea, but once he was called Sparrowhawk, a reckless youth, hungry for power and knowledge, who tampered with long-held secrets and loosed and terrible shadow upon the world. This is the tale of his testing, how he mastered the mighty words of power, tamed an ancient dragon, and crossed death's threshold to restore the balance.

Review: I am not a fan of fantasy or science fiction. I am, however, an enthusiastic fan of J.R.R. Tolkien, and especially The Lord of the Rings. I knew that the Earthsea saga was supposed to be similar, and it is, but happily, it is also very different. The entire population of the world lives on small islands that make up the Archipelago of Earthsea, and wizards are common, if revered, laborers. Each village, township, or great city employs one, and they are all educated on one enchanted island, Roke. Fishermen depend on wizards to help calm the weather and the sea, and even the very fish themselves. Wizards are healers and magicians. And Ged is both the most powerful and talented, and also the most prideful and, therefore, the most cursed of these wizards.

This story follows Ged's early life, from his birth and childhood on the Gont, where is father was a smith and his aunt a petty village witch who taught him his first spells, to his education at the great wizard school on Roke, and to his great mistake of pride and his journey toward rectifying it. In a way, it is very much like The Lord of the Rings, if it had been told from Gandalf's point of view: a powerful wizard wanders the earth, doing great things to help people, but always in pursuit of some dark mission. In another way, it reminded me of Homer's Odyssey, in that Ged is constantly sidelined by manipulative and dark forces. All of these likenesses in fact add to the enjoyment I had in the story. Ged is a wonderfully complex hero; he is not wholly good and makes terrible mistakes that endanger the entire world. He gives in to pride, anger, and envy, and this causes his early downfall, but it also makes him a better person. The people around him either help him or hinder him, but this doesn't make them one-dimensional. In fact, I am looking forward to reading the next book in the series, The Tombs of Atuan not just to read more about Ged, but also about his friends, Vetch, Yarrow, and Ogion, and also about his nemesis, Jasper. I recommend this book to any fan of Tolkien or C.S. Lewis...to well-read fans of fantasy and science fiction, this book will already be a favorite.

Rating: 9/10

Ursula K. Le Guin Book Signing -- April 30th --

jessimay — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 16:20:25 +0000

Lavinia, second wife of Aeneas, has only a line or two in Virgil's Aeneid. Ursula K. LeGuin has decided to give Lavinia a voice of her own in this new novel- Lavinia published by Harcourt.

A few reviews:

Publisher's Weekly

Los Angeles Times

Excerpt from Lavinia

It was a wonderful thing to be out on the hills and see a great stag come walking calmly from the forest, balancing his crown of horns. He would kneel and put his nose in Silvia’s hand, and folding his tall delicate legs under him, sit there between us while she stroked his neck. He smelled sweet and strong and gamy. His eyes were large, dark, and quiet; so were Silvia’s eyes. That is what it was like in the age of Saturn, my poet said, the golden time of the first days when there was no fear in the world. Silvia seemed a daughter of that age. To sit with her on the sunlit slopes or run with her on the forest trails she knew so well was the delight of my life. There was no one in all that country of our girlhood who wished us any harm. Our pagans, the folk of the plowlands, greeted us from their fields or the doorstep of their round huts. The surly bee-keeper saved a comb of honey for us, the dairy women had a sip of cream for us, the cowboys showed off for us, riding bull-calves or vaulting an old cow’s horns, and the old shepherd Ino showed us how to make piping flutes of oat-straw.

Sometimes in summer as the long day drew toward evening and we knew we should be starting home to the farm, we’d both lie face down on the hillside and push our faces right into the harsh dry grass and the hard clodded dirt, breathing in the infinitely complex smell, hay-sweet and soil-bitter, of the warm summer earth, our earth. Then we were both Saturn’s children. We leapt up and ran down the hill, ran home — race you to the cattle ford!

UW Bookstore
Wednesday April 30th
7pm

'Wanderlust,' Björk's New 3-D Video

dragonize — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 20:58:48 +0000

Wired.com has exclusive access to Björk's new 3-D music video Wanderlust. [CAREFUL!!! The download is huge and begins once you load the page!] It is your classic style of 3-D filmmaking, so red and blue glasses are required. If you don't have 3-D glasses lying around your place (I didn't either, but I had blue and red Sharpies and piece of clear plastic) them you ain't missing much because the 2-D version has more color and is pretty damn cool. The video itself is a spiritual, sci-fi odyssey and reminds me of the way I pictured Ursula K. Le Guin's A Wizard of Earthsea when I read it in 8th grade...probably because the book's cover suggested a similar aesthetic. The video also has its own website at which only the 2-D version is available.

The similarity with A Wizard of Earthsea goes far beyond that aesthetic, however: Bjork is on a quest for an unknowable thing and along the way is pursued by, and does battle with, what seems to be her own shadow. This is precisely what Duny/Ged/Sparrowhawk went through in that classic fantasy novel from 1968.

Looking back (and brushing up with Wikipedia's help) I realize that Le Guin's imagination gave her an insight into the future of computing. From Wikipedia's plot summary of A Wizard of Earthsea:

In this world, a magician who knows someone else's true name can control that person, so one's true name is revealed only to those whom one trusts implicitly. Normally, a person is referred to by his or her "use name". Ged's use name is Sparrowhawk.

"Use name" is so close to "username", "Sparrowhawk" totally sounds like something a pre-teen named Duny or Ged would rather call himself, passwords protect and unlock secrets just like magic spells do! Wow!!

The Lathe of Heaven (1971)

Scotoma — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 21:39:39 +0000

by Ursula K. Le Guin

TLoH, my favorite LeGuin novel, is quite untypical for LeGuin and can be be allocated to the class of SF novels that take one idea to its logical extreme. It's about a guy whose dreams become reality and who is used as a tool by his therapist to reshape reality. The main antagonist of the novel is actually trying to change the world for good, but alas it doesn't work that well.

What I like is the deliberate way in which the plot is set up. Very small changes at first, that make the protagonist look like he's just a bit crazy, even in the eyes of the reader, until everything falls together and you'll wonder how things turn out. I also like the dynamic between protagonist (Orr) and antagonist (Haber). First Orr is the one who is a bit insane while Haber looks completely grounded and sane, but with each reality shift that balance changes until the end of the book sees the situation reversed.

Rating: 5/5

The Word for World is Forest (1976)

Scotoma — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 13:04:46 +0000

by Ursula K. Le Guin

Instead of trying to tell a story first, this book clobbers the reader repeatedly over the head with its obvious allegory on cultural and ecological rape through humans. This time the humans do their nasty deeds to an alien culture and LeGuin successfully repeats her standard theme of the evils that men can do.

What doesn't work is that everyone in the book is a stereotype. None of the characters has more character than just the position the author has moved them into, playing out their destined role without ever showing a trace of being more than just a figurehead. Occasionally I like writers who can be a bit preachy. LeGuin is not one of them. YMMV.

Rating: 2/5

Telling it like it is, Le Guin style

Bill the sci-fi guy — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 23:09:31 +0000

The Telling (2005) is yet another installment in Ursula K. Le Guin's Hainish cycle, and another example of her brand of soft, social, anthropological science fiction. It's not her best work, and not her worst, but rather in the middle; comfortably average Le Guin, certainly a decent read.

Sutty, an Ekumen Observer, is sent to Aka, a planet ruled by the Corporate State, a materialistic, modern, progress-driven government which has outlawed the "old ways" -- old literature, old traditions, and particularly the Telling, an ancient social phenomenon that is not quite a religion, not quite a philosophy, but more like a "system for living" and a way to remember the past. Anything not serving the modern fixation on progress, science, economic expansion, and the "March to the Stars" was made illegal and punishable. And not only did the Corporation outlaw these things, it used force to rid the world of them -- blew up the old libraries, put violators in "rehabilitation" work camps, etc.

So is this a cautionary tale about materialistic, secular governments that use heavy-handed tactics and censorship? Not so fast....

It turns out Sutty comes from an Earth which, during much of her lifetime, had pretty much the opposite problem: it was ruled by a fanatical religious group, the Unists, which was anti-progress, anti-science, and against anything that didn't fit in with their traditionalist religious viewpoint. And like the Akans, the Unists were all too willing to use violence, punishment, and censorship in futherance of their goals.

So what's the point of all this? Le Guin dishes out plenty of criticism of both the Akan Corporate State (for their blind pursuit of progress at the expense of their heritage) and the Terran Unists (for doing pretty much the opposite). I think what Le Guin is saying is that almost any kind of belief system (be it religious, political, or whatever), if in a position to gather power, can be used to oppress others in order to advance itself as the best or only allowable choice. At one point she speaks of it in terms of balance:

From an active homeostatic balance they had turned it to an active forward-thrusting imbalance.

Both Aka and Earth fall into this imbalance, with one particular belief pushing itself forward to the exclusion of all others and becoming the basis for a totalitarian regime. But as Le Guin reminds us, just because a belief is strongly or widely held, that doesn't mean it's the right belief, and beliefs, once examined, often turn out to be flawed or not as well-supported as we think. My favorite line of the whole book was:

But belief is the wound that knowledge heals....

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin

Sarah — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 05:52:19 +0000

Date of Publication: 1968

Number of Pages: 183

Rating: 9/10

Reviewed by Sarah

Bilder

dennisjansen — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 00:23:52 +0000

“Any artist must expect to work amid the total, rational indifference of everybody else to their work, for years, perhaps for life: but no artist can work well against daily, personal, vengeful resistance.”
- Ursula K. Le Guin

Trolled around outside today. Pictures:

Also saw 10,000 BC... I found out that the killer ostrich-looking birds actually did exist, which is neat.

But the mammoths building the pyramids... no, no, no.

The Act of Reading

leahelizabeth — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 18:23:12 +0000

In last month's Harper's, Urusula K. Le Guin wrote a truly compelling and even beautiful article about the art of reading. Her general thesis is that reading is not on the decline because reading has never been very popular -- and in fact, for most of human history, the vast majority of people were unable to read one sentence, let alone a book of any size. I think the most valuable point that she makes, though, is about the act of reading:

The Internet offers everything to everybody: but perhaps because of that all-inclusiveness there is curiously little aesthetic satisfaction to be got from Web-surfing. You can look at pictures or listen to music or read a poem or a book on your computer, but these artifacts are made accessible by the Web, not created by it and not intrinsic to it. Perhaps blogging is an effort to bring creativity to networking, and perhaps blogs will develop aesthetic form, but they certainly haven’t done it yet.

Besides, readers aren’t viewers; they recognize their pleasure as different from that of being entertained. Once you’ve pressed the on button, the TV goes on, and on, and on, and all you have to do is sit and stare. But reading is active, an act of attention, of absorbed alertness—not all that different from hunting, in fact, or from gathering. In its silence, a book is a challenge: it can’t lull you with surging music or deafen you with screeching laugh tracks or fire gunshots in your living room; you have to listen to it in your head. A book won’t move your eyes for you the way images on a screen do. It won’t move your mind unless you give it your mind, or your heart unless you put your heart in it. It won’t do the work for you. To read a story well is to follow it, to act it, to feel it, to become it—everything short of writing it, in fact. Reading is not “interactive” with a set of rules or options, as games are; reading is actual collaboration with the writer’s mind. No wonder not everybody is up to it.

The book itself is a curious artifact, not showy in its technology but complex and extremely efficient: a really neat little device, compact, often very pleasant to look at and handle, that can last decades, even centuries. It doesn’t have to be plugged in, activated, or performed by a machine; all it needs is light, a human eye, and a human mind. It is not one of a kind, and it is not ephemeral. It lasts. It is reliable. If a book told you something when you were fifteen, it will tell it to you again when you’re fifty, though you may understand it so differently that it seems you’re reading a whole new book.

This is crucial, the fact that a book is a thing, physically there, durable, indefinitely reusable, an object of value.

You can read the full article, "Staying Awake: Notes on the alleged decline of reading," here, though you may need a subscription to Harper's, which, again, I highly recommend.

Sesja, sesja i... po sesji.

Mori — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 16:59:17 +0000

W zasadzie to pisząc różne rzeczy na blogu nie wspomniałem, że w zasadzie zamknąłem trzeci semestr - wprawdzie brakuje mi wpisu z MO, ale to kwestia odzyskania indeksu i wizyty u odpowiednich osób, żeby zdobyć podpis. Budującym jest też fakt, że w zasadzie mamy dość luźny harmonogram w tym semestrze - większość (jeśli nie wszystkie) wykładów można spokojnie przespać w domu - dzięki temu mam wolny co drugi poniedziałek i piątek.

Korzystając z tego, że mogę się lenić bez konsekwencji, ściągnąłem i zainstalowałem sobie Albatrossa18 - zabawnego golfa online w konwencji anime. Powbijałem trochę piłek, zaliczyłem parę dołków i mam już poziom Rookie B =] Od Draga trochę mnie jeszcze dzieli, ale cóż - on w to już dwa lata gra (łącznie chyba ponad miesiąc gry non-stop już zaliczył!)... W ogóle, miałem przyjemność być świadkiem pierwszego HIO Draga w tym sezonie! Gratz n00bie :D Przy okazji pozdrowienia dla wszystkich z SoA z którymi miałem przyjemność grać (ja albo moja siostra): Ri, Drag, Dred, Mos, Molko... Chyba nikogo nie pominąłem? I hope so ^^' PangYa! ;)

Z newsów filmowych... Oglądałem Sweeney Todd: Demoniczny golibroda z Fleet Street - musical wyreżyserowany przez Tima Burtona (twórca m.in. Gnijącej panny młodej - świetny film), w którym gra idol nastolatek - Gejpp :P Dzieło, jak na Burtona, straszliwie rozczarowujące - odradzam większości, która jednak nie dostaje orgazmu na widok Deppa w kiczowatym stroju kąpielowym albo nie jest fanami musicali. Sporo całkiem bezsensownego cięcia brzytwami... Nie wiem, może ja się nie znam, ale mnie nie przekonał, mimo, że lubię sobie od czasu do czasu musical obejrzeć. Razem z rodzicami obejrzeliśmy również polecany mi Gwiezdny Pył - całkiem ciepła baśń fantasy. Szkoda, że w wersji angielskiej z napisami - inaczej siostra spokojnie mogłaby to z nami obejrzeć.

Skoro już o fantasy, to pora na książki. Ostatnio skończyłem Dary Ursuli K. Le Guin - bardzo słabe jak na twórczynię cyklu o Czarnoksiężniku - szkoda, szkoda. Krótkie, nieskomplikowane, nudne. Odradzam, chyba, że ktoś nie ma już co czytać. Teraz kończę Cyfrową Twierdzę Dana Browna - szkoda, że z rzeczywistością to ma niewiele wspólnego... Co to niby są łańcuchy mutacyjne? Komputer łamiący algorytmy szyfrujące niezależnie od tego, jak działają? Kompletna bzdura... ZIP algorytmem kryptograficznym? Nieźle, to RAR pewnie też się liczy! Nawet nie wiedziałem, że aż tak często korzystam z kryptografii =] Nie, dla kogoś, kogo, jak mnie, pociąga kryptografia i kryptoanaliza, ta książka nie będzie odpowiednia. Do tego oczywiście standardowy supergenialny bohater (mówię o Davidzie) z przeogromnym bonusem do szczęścia, a także piękna i inteligentna kobieta (pewnie po to, żeby nie posądzono go o seksizm), z naiwnością odpowiadającą małemu dziecku (Susan). Wielki zły, który nie jest taki do końca zły, ale i tak musi umrzeć (Ensei) i patriota, któremu jednak odbija i tak naprawdę jest zły (komandor) i który również musi zginąć. Szablonowe, straszliwie... Człowiek przeczyta coś Browna to potem może dopasować wszystko do schematu, zmieniający tylko otoczenie i podpisy pod poszczególnymi postaciami... Ale dość tego, bo zaczynam gadać jak Kell. Następny w kolejce jest Masterton z jego Krzywą Sweetmana. Na kompie dalej Demoniczne przymierze - męczę to i męczę... Potem Kell sugerował, bym sięgnął po Cryptonomicon Stephensona - zobaczymy...

Skoro była mowa o liczbach... Wiecie, że do każdej liczy naturalnej (pewnie i do innych też) można znaleźć jakieś ciekawe matematyczne znaczenie? Przykład dla liczb od 0 do... 9999 (aczkolwiek niektórych brakuje). Interesujące, polecam.

Dzisiaj na laborkach z SO nauczyliśmy się robić menu w BASHu... Które rok temu robiliśmy w C/C++ =] Ale co tam, napisaliśmy to szybko i bez problemów. Do tego z ładnymi clear'ami i innymi bajerami... Probowaliśmy z RiPem okiełznać write, ale niestety, jak na razie bez powodzenia... Jeżeli ktoś wie, jak do tego dziadostwa przesłać jakieś wiadomości z poziomu BASHa, a także jak zakończyć działanie write'a (również bez udziału użytkownika, z poziomu BASHa again) niech da znać =] Wtedy menu z SO będzie kompletne ;) A my z RiPem dostaniemy wspaniałe narzędzie do zabawy :D Praiwe jak fork-bomb. Po SO wybrałem się do Ani, żeby dać jej płytki z Toddem (przy okazji wczoraj nauczyłem się, że NEC u siostry nie lubi palić CD - zepsuł mi 5 CD :/). Ponieważ miałem jeszcze trochę czasu, posiedziałem sobie w Galerii Kazimierz... I właśnie wracając zaobserwowałem ciekawą sytuację - rozbiórkę jakiejś kamienicy... Bardzo fajne, tylko jednego nie rozumiem - po co gość to polewał wodą? Na początku myślałem, że po to, aby schłodzić sprzęt niszczący budynek - ale potem się zorientowałem, że on to lał niezależnie... Może Przemo mi to wyjaśni? Anyway, Ania ostatecznie się dowiedziała, że jednak mają przerwę między niemieckimi, więc musiałem się dość szybko przemieszczać pomiędzy GK a ósemką (usłyszałem, że "dba o moją kondycję", dziękuję bardzo!), dlatego po wszystkim musiałem wrócić na miejsce zbrodni...

Ponieważ Ania zdecydowała się ostatnio zmienić swój image na bardziej kobiecy, miałem okazję zrobić jej parę fotek w makijażu. Osobiście jestem przeciwny makijażom, podkładom, pomalowanym paznokciom, tipsom, farbowanym włosom, tatuażom, kolczykom i innymi takim rzeczami, które według mnie dają jasny sygnał, zupełnie przeciwny zamierzonemu efektowi - że kobieta nie akceptuje samej siebie. Jeśli będę chciał sobie obejrzeć ideał z nieskończenie gładką skórą o odpowiadającym mi odcieniu skóry, włosów, paznokci, oczu i whatever - odpalę sobie Photoshopa. W realu wolę oglądać realne kobiety, bez dodatków. Ale mnie i tak nikt nie słucha :P Dla Przema/fanów budów i innych takich, wspominana rozbiórka na rogu Masarskiej i Rzeźniczej - nawet nieźle mi zdjęcia wyszły (chyba, że Szank ma jakieś uwagi do nich - niestety, drzew nie umiem jeszcze w realu zaznaczać, po czym przenosić do kosza - przepraszam za to). Zachęcam do obejrzenia obu zlinkowanych galerii...

Jeśli chodzi o bardziej skośne newsy - skończyłem oglądać Serial Experiments Lain [recka/alternatywna recka] - i muszę powiedzieć, że średnio mnie ten cyberpunk japoński przekonał. To nie to, że nie jestem fanem cyberpunka - bo jestem - ale to anime... Jest dziwne. Albo ja po prostu za głupi na to jestem, nie wiem... W każdym razie, Lain nie będzie moim ulubionym anime, oj nie...

Na zakończenie, mimo, że często się z poglądami Sokoła nie zgadzam, wrzucę tu jego opis, który akurat popieram: Kosovo je srce Srbije! Kosovo je Srbija!

PS. Ri też napisała notkę, zapraszam do niej.

The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin

itsfine — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 23:00:51 +0000

Just finished reading this book and could not help but writing a review at 4:30 in the morning. Ursula K. Le Guin is a well known and accomplished science fiction writer. She stands out because her books go much beyond the ordinarily assumed reals of science fiction. She talks about society, gender, governance in other imagined planets and worlds.

By the time I finished the first chapter, I was already convinced of her brilliance and genius .The Left Hand of Darkness is a completely new variety of science fiction for me. A social science fiction. Its amazing! The book is pregnant with ideas. In fact there are so many ideas flooding all over, from the beginning till the end that one tends to get confounded. It shows the ripe imagination that she has. It is a complex book in many ways and needs a lot of brooding and thinking over.

It is the story of how a person ( an ambassador ) from one world goes to another where he an alien and is treated/mistreated among a variety of mankind which is androgynous. A society where his being a male is seen as perversion. Where a father is a mother and a mother is a father. Where no one is tied down as much as woman is and no one is as free as a man. Most of the story is a first person narration by two major characters. There are a lot of complex names and systems of the new world which one might take time in getting accustomed to. There are philosophical gems thrown in and there are some hopeful views of a society which is equal in all respects. She sees it and she makes us see it.

A delightful reading!! Recommended!!

42 listy miłosne

Yves P. — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 11:52:49 +0000

Co też stało się z listem miłosnym? Czy zdawkowe kartki, e-maile i życzenia czy wyznania przez SMS-y całkowicie zastąpiły tę romantyczną formę okazywania uczuć? Czy słowo pisane straciło swój urok w epoce cyfrowej obsesji i błyskawicznych randek?

42 przykładowe, najbardziej romantyczne listy miłosne

42 listy miłosne

Jak kuszące mogą być słowa? I jak wygląda miłość w XXI wieku? Oto jedyny w swoim rodzaju zbiór nigdy wcześniej niepublikowanych listów miłosnych autorstwa najsłynniejszych współczesnych pisarzy. Każdy "list" jest radykalnie różny od pozostałych, każdy jest świadectwem unikalnego stylu autora, i każdy potrafi uwieść, wzruszyć, rozbawić...

"42 Listy Miłosne" zawierają oryginalne - publikowane po raz pierwszy - utwory tak uznanych autorów jak: Margaret Atwood, Leonard Cohen, Jeanette Winterson, Hari Kunzru, Michel Faber, Etgar Keret, Jonathan Lethem, Juli Zeh, Neil Gaiman, Ursula K. Le Guin, Gautam Malkani, Lionel Shriver i Douglas Coupland. Polskie wydanie wzbogacone zostało także o teksty Rafała Olbińskiego i Łukasza Orbitowskiego.

Zobacz więcej »

Neue Zeichnung - Azver

Atanua — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 23:52:13 +0000

Azver, ungefähr zur Zeit von "Rückkehr nach Erdsee" (The other wind). Beschreibung aus dem Earthsea Compendium.

Titles: Master Patterner, Azver the Patterner, Lord Patterner, Master of the Grove, Lord AzverMaster Patterner at the School of Wizardry on Roke during The Farthest Shore, 'Dragonfly' & The Other Wind; he comes from Karego-At (the only Karg ever to come to the School). Described as between thirty and forty in 'Dragonfly', tall and slight, with a hard face and 'pale reddish skin, long pale hair, and narrow eyes the colour of ice'a; he is quiet, smiles rarely, and is said to have a hint of fierceness. Ged describes him: '"He's not a gentle man, but he is to be trusted."'b His speech is said to be 'strange, stiff and somehow deformed … harsh, quick, dry, peaceable.'a His Kargish name means 'banner of war'; he learned his true name as an adult from the trees of the Immanent Grove. His wizard's staff is of willow

Sources: The Rowan Tree, FS; Dragonfly, TfE (a); Mending of the Green Pitcher, OW (b)…the Master Patterner, who lived within the Grove and seldom or never came forth from it. His hair was yellow as butter; he was no Archipelagan. … Such had been the Master Patterner ten years ago, a sword-begirt, red-plumed young savage from Karego-At… a tall man and fair, with long fair hair, and strange green eyes…

Zum Vergrössern anklicken

Bleistift, A4, ca. 5 Stunden. Ursprungskizze entstand am Abend anch der Chemieprüfung, was offensichtlich ist, hehe. Nein, Vorlage habe ich trotzdem nicht benutzt. Jedenfalls bin ich recht zufrieden. Nicht zufrieden resp. entäuscht bin ich von den Usern auf Deviantart. Im Thumbshareforum fragte ich nach traditionellen Sachen, die ohne Vorlage gezeichnet wurden. Angefügt der Wink mit dem Zaunpfal doch einen Kommentar zu den drei von mir geposteten Sachen zu hinterlassen. Es sei nicht nötig, aber es wäre nett. Aha, anscheinend sind viele einfach nur auf Commentfang und nicht an den Anderen interessiert. Wenn jemand bei mir mal nen Kommentar hinterlässt, gehe ich sofort seine Gallery durch...Bis jetzt habe ich nur einen Kommentar zurück bekommen. Allerdings zu dieser blöden Ölstudie von Grace Khold, die ja alle so verdammt beeindruckend finden. Ihm selbst gefällt ja auch, trotzdem...

Ehrlich, nehmt ein Foto, vergrössert es, paust es aufs Papier durch, und malt es an. Fertig! Klar, wer selten zeichnet braucht vielleicht einige Versuche, aber es braucht keine Fantasie. Ihr wisst ja was da sein soll...Mich persönlich langweilt so was, aber egal...Tja, und es liegt mir nicht Menschen zum Kommentieren zu zwingen!

Weisberg's Extraordinary Book

wlcutter — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 07:22:26 +0000

Go ahead and check out Ursula K. Le Guin’s article in the February 2008 issue of Harper’s and get depressed. In it, she rails against the capitalistic impulses of the publishing industry, and, despite the fact that she’s right and that I’m on her side, it’s still hard to read defense-of-reading tracts as much more than, at best, smart people making obvious points and, at worst, histrionic rants. In her piece, Le Guin (correctly) points out that reading’s an activity that demands engagement: it’s anything but passive, and her demand, at the finish, for readers to stay awake—and for publisher to serve those of us who are (literally) sleepless in and because of our hunger—is right on and worth considering. Still: it’s shitty to read articles like that. Has anyone ever written any sort of defense of kissing? Of listening closely and well to good, generative music? Aren’t we in dire shape if we’re defending something like reading? Maybe it’s a stupid frustration, but whatever.

Regardless: it was hard to finish up Joseph Weisberg’s An Ordinary Spy and not wonder how it is this book hasn’t already set a few thousand peoples’ hair on fire. This book is just fucking riveting.

Mark Costello reviewed it in the NYTimes Sunday Book Review a few sundays back—in December, actually—and it was fortuitous for both Weisberg and Costello (who if you haven’t read you should: his Big If was freakishly good, as was, for very different reasons, his first book, Bag Men, written under the pseudonym John Flood). Costello’s got great literary chops and an ear for the sort of potboiler, spy-drama stuff, and, I’m happy to report, so does Weisberg.

The part of this book that’s going to get the most press—and should get the most press—is that Weisberg used to work for the CIA and, when he finished the book, sent it to his former employer for vetting. They (and is this fictitious? real? apocryphal? does it matter?) blacked out certain key words, phrases, passages—they CIA’d the fucker, basically. There’s almost an entire chapter in An Ordinary Spy that’s blacked out, and I’m not going to page through it right now, but I’m almost sure that not more than two pages go by without at least a few black marks obscuring some key words.

So, for instance, we know the name of some of the main characters, but we don’t know countries. The reader never finds out specific titles of military generals. Most frustrating to me (frustrating in a good way, if that’s possible) were the blacked-out passages that detailed specific CIA protocols: how to do surveillance, how to set up and negotiate secret meetings...not that I want to know how to do any of that stuff for any real good reason, but it’d be fun. I think.

The story’s masterful: a young CIA guy gets sent to XXXXX, and, while there, he XXXXXX XXXXX XXXXXXXXX, which forces, as you’d imagine, his quick return to the states and the CIA’s decision to XXXX him. Then, while in Chicago, he gets this card in the mail, and then he drives to the Northeast, where the second half of the novel unfolds as as retold narrative.

One of the greatest aspects of any piece of writing is when the style of the writing serves, perfectly, the story being told, be it a poem or novel or essay. The best example of something like this is probably Marilynne Robinson’s Housekeeping—that weird, earthy tone that grounds the book so wondrously and paces it so smoothly. Weisberg’s officially in the running for a book in which style and story almost perfectly mesh. The first-person voice throughout—how the narrator deliberates and examines things around him—is magic, and the story ends up feeling less like something you read than something you’d hear from a really interesting stranger at a really great bar.

For all the rad literary tricks, as well, the book’s an actual, real live page turner—something of an endangered species in literary fiction, I think (that’s probably not fair: it’s not an endangered species as much as its an, for the moment, overlooked species—it’s not the animal of the moment, anyway). The ending’s not a cliffhanger, but it’s full of surprise and depth and heart, which, I don’t know—I don’t read anything like enough spy fiction, so I don’t know how much real earnest heart there is in books like this, but I was just knocked down by how much insightful compassion and genuine feeling was packed into the close of Weisberg’s latest.

Read this. Read this. Read this. Read this. That’s all any review should ever say, anyway, so I’ll say it again: read this goddamned book. Now. Quickly.