Walt at Random

I started reading N.K. Jemisin’s The Killing Moon in 2019. I gave up part way in–while very well written, it was just more than I could cope with. Admittedly, at my advanced age, I’m not usually much for massive world-building epics (I’ve not read any of the Song of Fire and Ice books or seen any of The Game of Thrones, and am exceedingly unlikely to change that status).

But Jemisin won three Hugos in a row for the novels in her second trilogy. That’s never happened. I needed to take another look, without prepping for a deep dive. Last time I was at the library. I spotted How Long ‘Til Black Future Month?–a collection of Jemisin’s shorter fiction.

Well now.

Brilliant, almost always very satisfying, occasionally challenging (frequently both), and always superbly written.

Still not sure whether I’m up to Jemisin’s longer works. I’ll try the first book in one of her trilogies. Not sure whether it will suit me–but of this I am now sure: If it doesn’t, it’s on me: she pretty clearly deserves all the awards she’s won.

I just finished reading this–not for the first time, but for the first time in years.

It’s by Sir Terry Pratchett, if you didn’t recognize the title. And it’s the last Discworld book. I say that “last” with some assurance because Pratchett is no longer with us and, although he apparently left lots of ideas for more books in the series, it does not appear that his estate has any plans to commission or allow such books. Probably just as well…

I’ve read essentially all Discworld books–“essentially” being a tricky word, since I never purchased The Last Hero (a graphic novel) or any of the many auxiliary books. I own nearly all of them–for some reason, I never purchased The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, but I’ve read it.

I’ve read most of them twice–beginning a chronological read-through around five years ago, and filling in the five wonderful Tiffany Aching YA books I missed the first time around. Reading them more slowly, I liked them even better. Reading tastes are very much individual, and this individual loves Pratchett’s work. (The only two of “his” fiction books I wasn’t as fond of were the final two “The Long…” collaborations, which seemed to have less and less of Pratchett in them. Yes, of course I loved Good Omens, his collaboration with Neil Gaiman, and look forward to the second season of the Prime adaptation and re-watching the first.

Anyway, just a note at the end of the read–never reading two of the books one after another, never hurrying through them. Now what?

Now I’ve stacked the books in chronological order, and after I finish the current trio of library books, I’ll read The Colour of Magic for the third time (even if Harper left the “u” out of the title for the US paperback edition I own, it will always be The Colour of Magic).

Then I just need to stick around to complete the third read, say another five to eight years.

Given the sheer amount of research I did in 2016–Gold Open Access Journals 2011-2015 and Gray OA 2012-2016–it’s a miracle I managed to get through any books at all. But I did.

As usual, my goal was 39 books: three books for each 4-week library circulation period. As usual, I did better than that, although nowhere near as well as in 2015: Looks like I started 49 books and finished 45 of them. Abandoned, for various reasons: Reinhart & Rogoff: This Time is Different; Graydon Carter: Bohemians, Bootleggers, Flappers & Swells; Peter Carey: Amnesia.

Books I thoroughly enjoyed:

Books I enjoyed a lot but which weren’t quite as good:

Those are the “A” and “A-” grades; another nine were also enjoyable but B+ at best.

Of course, I also wrote three books, but that’s another story.

[If you looked at this and saw two identical tables: brief problem…]

The book: Isaiah Wilner, The Man Time Forgot, HarperCollins, 2006.

I read most books long after they’re published, borrowing them from Livermore Public Library after (usually) browsing the shelves. That was the case this time;  I find both business history and media/publishing interesting, so this was a natural.

It’s well-researched and fairly well written. It’s about Briton Hadden and Henry Luce–and the title of the book pretty much clarifies who’s supposed to be the wronged hero. (Well, that and a caricature of Hadden on the cover).

The story is supposed to be about how Hadden created Time Magazine and the whole Timespeak approach–and how Luce did Hadden wrong after Hadden’s early death. And if you pay attention primarily to pages 216-260, and read the previous chapters with one set of assumptions, that’s how this comes out.

But I found myself reading a different story than the one Wilner was writing, at least through most of the first 14 chapters; thus, my “semi-contrarian” heading.

Here’s what I saw–based entirely on what Wilner wrote:

• We have Character A, wealthy, extroverted, party-hearty, the life of every group. Apparently drunk most of the time as an adult.
• We have Character B, the son of a missionary, extremely bright, awkward, with a stammer, a “scholarship boy” who doesn’t quite fit in.
• Somehow, in their many dealings, Character A is always The Winner and Character B is, at best, The Sidekick. Not surprising: A’s a natural In-Crowd person and B’s a, well, charity case.
• Character A even uses a derogatory nickname for Character B, not only in school but in adult life–“Chink” because he was born in China.
• When they work together, agreeing to alternate editorial and business, somehow it’s almost always Character A’s turn to do editorial. When Character B makes a decision that makes it possible to sell Time outside the East Coast, but inconveniences Character A’s round of parties, Character A not only takes it badly, he reverses the decision as soon as Character B is out of the country.
• Even on his deathbed Character A tries to make sure Character B can never actually have control of the magazine they co-founded, writing a will that would hamstring Character B.

Character A is Briton Hadden. Character B is Henry Luce–or “Chink Luce” as Hadden pretty consistently referred to him. It’s pretty clear that Luce didn’t care for that nickname; if Hadden had actually regarded Luce as an equal rather than a Sidekick, he would have used his actual name.

To me, most of the book read as a “friendship” where Hadden was pretty consistently taking advantage of Luce–and Luce had to realize that after awhile. Was it appropriate for him to remove Hadden’s name from the masthead after Hadden’s death? Probably not–but I can certainly appreciate why he might have done so.

One book, two stories.

[No, I’m not a great fan of Luce either.]