The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Even though, I had read this book thirty years ago, I was just amazed at how much of it I had forgotten. Also, at the time I originally read this book, it was only the second book of Powers’ that I had read; the first being Drawing of the Dark.
Since that time, I’ve read nearly everything that Powers has published. I believe that because of this I had a much broader perspective of Powers’ talents to allow me much more appreciation of The Anubis Gates this time around.
When it comes to writers, or any human endeavors, there are categories: bad, mediocre, good, and superlative. Powers most definitely falls into the superlative group, which is not heavily populated. I think that writers of prose or poetry who have truly astounding talents definitely display a touch of genius approaching Einstein (Physics) or Beethoven (Music).
I cannot even begin to fathom the amount of time, effort, frustration, and huge piles of scribbled notes Powers endured while researching and writing this book. Sadly, many who read Powers’ works will miss 50% or more of the interesting tidbits he twists and twines into the tapestry he’s creating while writing. Powers loves to use actual historical persona, Classic Literature, Physics, and historical events in his stories. Most folks will enjoy the stories even without the background education required to catch all of Powers’ references. However, if you do catch and understand them, it just adds to the joy and amazement of this talented man’s writings .
As with most readers, I have a short list of favorite authors:
– Stephen King
– Mark Helprin
– Jane Austin
– Charlotte Bronte
– Loren Eiseley
– E.A. Poe
– Ambrose Bierce
– Washington Irving
– et cetera
Powers is most definitely on this list!
I’m guessing Tim and his ol’ pal, James Blaylock, experimented a bit with certain substances and ethanol-based liquids back in their college days. I cannot believe that some of the things Powers dreams up could have happened without some outside assistance. 😉
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The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers
Medusa’s Web by Tim Powers
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
For many years, my favorite Powers book was The Drawing of the Dark. However, since reading many of his more current books, I’m hard-pressed to decide on a favorite. It seems that each of the last few I’ve read are just so outstanding; getting hard to choose, for sure.
This current one here, I had to give a 5-Star review. I don’t toss out 5-Star reviews that easily. but… well… this book was definitely better than 4-Stars, and there are no fractional star options.
As I’ve said in previous Powers reviews here, if you’re a fan of Tim, you don’t need an explanation. If you’re not familiar with him, but are a fan of strange, weird, yet tantalizingly possible Fantasy/Sci-fi, I think you’ll like this book… and all his others, too.
Go ahead, you know you wanna’… grab yourself a twisted Tim Powers book and sit in your comfortable reading chair by the fire with some hot cocoa sometime in this last few weeks of winter. You won’t regret the time spent, I don’t think.
Tim Powers’ complete bibliography from Wikipedia (read the novels in publication order, if you can manage it)
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The Stress of Her Regard by Tim Powers
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I don’t lightly give books five star ratings, but this one is well deserved. This book was absolutely stupendous! I’ve read quite a lot of Powers over the years, but had never read this one. I’ll tell you this… it may be my all time favorite Tim Powers book. I cannot see him surpassing this in the few books of his that I still have left to read.
His mastery shows in this story. His mixture of true history, Literature, legend, Philosophy, Religion, and even Physics makes the story almost… so close… nearly believable. For fiction works, particularly fantasy type fiction, it’s necessary for the author to get the reader to suspend his disbelief for a while. Powers weaves a story here that will have you saying to yourself, as you progress through the book; “Hmm…”, “Ahh…”, “I can see that”, and “That makes sense”.
If you’ve read some of Powers books, but not this one yet… you’re missing out. You must read this book.
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This was an interesting read. I’ve been a John Fogerty/CCR fan since I was a kid in the 60s. Unfortunately, or maybe that’s not the right word… maybe consequently would be better. As a consequence of reading this book, my image/opinion of John may have been adjusted or realigned a bit. That’s OK, though… I much appreciated being allowed into his head. The book is written in a way that makes you feel that John is sitting with you in some comfortable den by the fireplace and telling you his life story.
It’s an interesting story. The man went through a bit of Hell in his journey through life, but he seems to have come out OK; thanks to some helpful people in his life, particularly his wife Julie. The book is a bit of a love story, too, in regards to Julie. That’s OK, too. Fans of John should be very grateful to Julie. She may have been the one thing the kept him here in this world. He definitely was going through some bad times when he met her.
I hope John and Julie and their family continue to thrive and live the dream. Creedance Clearwater Revival will ALWAYS be a large chunk of my life. I’ve loved that music since first hearing it on the radio in the late 60s while riding around in mom’s ’59 Chevy with my older brother and his pals. John’s music is part of my soul now… and forever.
If you’re a fan of CCR and John… you need to read this book.
Well, it seems it’s been a while since my last entry here. I went dark for a few months there (no Internet access) due to COVID-19 financial stress. I’m sure many of you can relate. Anyway, I’m back for now…
For you more mature folks (read as “old farts”) out there, you may remember and have read some of the legendary mystery writer John D. MacDonald‘s books. If so, you’re probably familiar with is style of writing and how he ofttimes veers slightly off topic to rant on about something or to state some deep philosophical tidbit. That’s what I’m going to post here in a moment or two.
MacDonald wrote many excellent mystery novels in his time. He was very prolific and extremely talented at twisting up a seriously intricate plot in just a little over 200 pages. If you’ve never read any of John D.’s work, I cannot recommend him enough to you. Grab one of his books. It’s a ride. You’ll get hooked.
MacDonald is semi-famous in many a mystery aficionado’s reminiscences due to a series of books (21, I think) that he wrote about a laid-back beach bum type named Travis McGee. Trav was a man’s man, in the macho sense of that phrase… and a helluva lady’s man, too. He was buena gente (good people), as they say in my neck o’ the woods.
Anyway, many years ago, my uncle Aaron (mother’s brother) gave me the entire set of Travis McGee books. I read them back then… one after another till I finished them; all too soon, sadly. They are stupendous. I’m currently re-reading them. Hell, nothing else much to do during COVID isolation, right?
I was inspired to read the McGee books again by another modern author’s works that I had recently finished reading. His name is Craig Johnson and he writes the Longmire series of mystery books. I definitely DO recommend these, by the way. I liked them so much, I actually wrote Johnson a fan mail letter. I’ve only done that twice in my life; the other author I wrote to was Nelson DeMille. The reply from DeMille was classic, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.
I had told Craig Johnson in that letter that the very first Longmire book made a deep impression on me because it was so well-plotted and carried out in just the short 200+ pages of that little paperback. It impressed me because it reminded me of John D. MacDonald’s talent for tight plotting.
To the point, though…
I’m currently reading Pale Gray for Guilt, the 9th in the McGee series. In that book earlier this evening John D. did one of his patented digressions into philosophical speculation. I’m going to type that passage in here for you right now. I hope the owners of the copyright will forgive me this little slip.
…and too many others were gone, and I sought chill comfort in an analogy of death that has been with me for years. It doesn’t explain or justify. It just seems to remind me how things are.
Picture a very swift torrent, a river rushing down between rocky walls. There is a long, shallow bar of sand and gravel that runs right down the middle of the river. It is under water. You are born and you have to sand on that narrow, submerged bar, where everyone stands. The ones born before you, the ones older than you, are upriver from you. The younger ones stand braced on the bar downriver. And the whole long bar is slowly moving down that river of time, washing away at the upstream end and building up downstream.
Your time, the time of all your contemporaries, schoolmates, your loves and your adversaries, is that part of the shifting bar on which you stand. And it is crowded at first. You can see the way it thins out, upstream from you. The old ones are washed away and their bodies go swiftly by, like logs in the current. Downstream where the younger ones stand thick, you can see them flounder, lose footing, wash away. Always there is more room where you stand, but always the swift water grows deeper, and you feel the shift of the sand and the gravel under your feet as the river wears it away. Someone looking for a safer place can nudge you off balance, and you are gone. Someone who has stood beside you for a long time gives a forlorn cry and you reach to catch their hand, but the fingertips slide away and they are gone. There are the sounds in the rocky gorge, the roar of the water, the shifting, gritty sound of sand and gravel underfoot, the forlorn cries of despair as the nearby ones, and the ones upstream, are taken by the current. Some old ones who stand on a good place, well braced, understanding currents and balance, last a long time. A Churchill, fat cigar atilt, sourly amused at his own endurance and, in the end, indifferent to rivers and the rage of waters. Far downstream from you are the thin, startled cries of the ones who never got planted, never got set, never quite understood the message of the torrent.*
There it is, folks. This passage had an effect on me as I was reading it. Bourbon may have had a little to do with that… Heh! Nah. 😉 It was just so beautiful, yet sad. I had to post it here for others to see and think about. I hope you liked it and I hope you’ll pick up a John D. MacDonald book next time you’re at the library. I tend to doubt you will ever regret it; except for its addictive qualities.
All for now. Please keep yourselves safe and HEALTHY!
*©1968 by John D. MacDonald1
- I was not able to determine current copyright ownership now that MacDonald is deceased. I always try to give credit where credit is due in my blogs. ~vtel
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This book can’t be described; it NEEDS to be read. It touched on all my emotions. It brought back so many memories of my youth in the 60s and later memories. It reinforced my belief that music is a universal language. Those who don’t appreciate music or understand its importance, will probably not understand this book. That’s sad because there’s much in this story that will touch many of you deeply, particularly if you lived through the turbulent times of the late 60s and beyond.
Books are subjective things, as I’ve stated often in reviews or descriptions to friends. One-book-fits-all is just as impractical as one-music-fits-all. You may or may not like this book. It’s up to YOU! I do recommend it highly, though.
I was channel surfing earlier this afternoon and stumbled across Ken Burns’ Ep 8 of his Vietnam War series on a local PBS channel.
And while I have seen the series through a couple times and have spent 45+ years studying and researching this era, the scenes in this documentary and the sounds and the music never fail to bring me to tears.
I remember this era well, even though I was a bit too young to participate fully. I remember my older brother and his friends being nervous and worried about these events (’68-’69). I remember watching Cronkite on the evening news with my parents and my brother. I remember the scenes of the fighting (America’s 1st televised war). I remember the fear, anger, sorrow.
I remember it all. Do you? Those of you who were the members of this truly fucked (and maybe a bit blessed) generation (b. ’45 – ’55 or so)…
DO YOU REMEMBER?
I’m pretty sure you do. It’s a difficult thing to forget. I’ve studied this era so deeply over the decades because it has always amazed me how it came about, what transpired, how poorly the U.S. dealt with this. Even after all this time, it still completely astounds me how this happened.
And sadly, I continue to see these same mistakes being made by my country over the years since this time. I still see young men and women going to places thousands of miles from home to fight and kill and die… for what? For noble causes? To protect our allies? Because we were attacked in our own country? I don’t think so.
Look around you today… right this minute and ask yourself:
Is it any different now? Have we made any progress? Or is it just same shit – different day/era? When are we going to finally wake up and realize that this is all such BULLSHIT? Of course, being a student of military history, which basically means human history, I can’t see any improvements other than those which have provided the means to bullshit the masses with more ease and kill the “enemies” with more precision and effect.
It’s a sad fuckin’ state of affairs, folks. It really is.
Four dead in Ohio ~Neil Young – Ohio
On tonight’s 60 Minutes (12 April 2020) they interviewed a doctor and a nurse working up close and personal in an NYC hospital right now. The fact that the U.S. cannot supply its own healthcare workers and citizens with necessary medical supplies and medications is the fault of GREED, plain and simple.
BIG CORP aided by greasing the palms of Senators and Representatives of the U.S. Congress and others in high places, have managed over the last 25-35 years or so to move nearly ALL production of consumer goods to overseas manufacturers who use slave labor and tyrannical oversight to provide the U.S. with cheap, low-quality goods.
This country needs to learn a lesson from this. The U.S. needs to bring manufacturing back to this country; particularly for necessary items for our health, safety, and security. The citizens of this once-great country need to RISE UP and DEMAND that this trend is reversed and corrected. However, we’ve all become addicted to cheap shit in our stores, so what’s the solution here? I wish I knew…
ANGRY! YOU damned well ought to be, too.
GREED IS KILLING US ALL…
… while enriching beyond their wildest dreams those 1% motherfuckers who control 99% of this country’s wealth. Think about this. Think about it well the next time you support these companies (and the men who control them) that stock their shelves with cheap imported garbage. We are part of the problem. Sadly, when you work your asses off for chicken shit wages, the cheap imported shit is all you can afford. It’s a vicious cycle. There was a reason unions became popular. Unfortunately, many of those unions also became corrupt and forgot their prime directive: helping the workers to not be abused and misused.
And it’s NOT a Republican/Democrat thing. They’re all thieving, lying bastards. It’s OUR fault ultimately; the people governed by these toadies of the oligarchs and plutocrats in control of this country.
I find myself saying this more and more often:
WAKE THE FUCK UP, AMERICA!
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I’ve read many books in my life, as most of you reading this have. I can honestly say here that this particular book was probably the most unique story and style of writing that I’ve seen.
As far as what this book was about… Well, I’ll ask you couple questions:
- Do you feel that wars serve a noble purpose?
- Do you think that young men and women should lose their lives for noble purposes like freedom, liberty, mankind, $$$ for the #MIC, pride of corps, oil, etc.?
Well, you need to read this book and then see how your opinions might change.
Oh, and have some tissues handy.
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Let me begin this review by saying a couple things…
Firstly, I’ve been interested in Physics since I was a wee lad in the ’60s. My neighbor, who was also my godfather, had a Ph.D. in Physics. He was also a career teacher. He was always spinning yarns about Einstein, Newton and the amazing current events going on in Physics and Cosmology back then. He gave me a copy of Sagan’s Cosmos when I was about 17 years old. He had also given me a few other books on stars, planets, etc. when I was a child. This spurred my lifelong interest in Physics and related sciences.
That being said, throughout my studies of Physics all these years, there is one thing that has always astounded and amazed me; that is the concept of time. I’ve read many books and papers on past and current theories purporting to explain the phenomenon of time; none were definitive, all were very interesting, though.
On the back of the edition that I’m reading there are some remarks from reviewers here and there. One that really is accurate is this one:
Some physicists, mind you, not many of them, are physicists-poets. They see the world or, more adequately, physical reality, as a lyrical narrative written in some hidden code that the human mind can decipher. Carlo Rovelli, the Italian physicist and author, is one of them. –NPR’s 13.7: Cosmos & Culture
I could not agree more with this statement. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. Even if it had been about horse racing or organic farming, I believe I would have enjoyed it because of Rovelli’s manner of writing. He may be a physicist, but he could easily have made a living, probably a better one, as an artist, writer, performer, etc.
This is a small book, but it has a lot to say. It will definitely make you think… or rethink your ideas about time. Rovelli briefly explains the current status of Physics’ views on time and then, in the second part of the book, he gently explains his view. The book is not a jumble of calculus and geometry. He writes for the everyday man/woman in this one. If you have a modicum of reading abilities and a little basis in high school science, you will be able to follow along just fine.
When I closed the back cover on this book, I was a bit surprise to experience the same regret (that it had ended) and joy that I often experience with the closing of the back cover on a really good novel. I think you’ll enjoy reading this book. If you have the slightest interest in the mystery of time on our plane of existence, I believe you will listen intently to what this man has to say. The 5-star rating I gave this one is as much a result of the quality of the writing as it is of the content.
I hope you’ll give this one a go.