Book Round-Up

The Cartographers by Peng Shepherd: This was a fascinating premise -- what if phantom settlements on maps could become real? -- but a mediocre execution. Too many of the characters made inexplicable or just plain dumb decisions, and it was far too easy to figure out the bad guy. A disappointment.

An Elderly Lady Must Not Be Crossed by Helene Tursten: A second set of stories about a murderous octegenarian from Sweden. The stories suffered slightly by trying to show us how she became so murderous, but they were delightful nonetheless. And I adore the book design!

The Singing Sands by Josephine Tey: Is it a re-read if I don't have any recollection of the first read? This is Tey's last story featuring Alan Grant and published posthumously. I wonder if she had planned for this to be the last Grant story, which might explain the bifurcated feel to the novel; the first half deals mostly with Grant's psychological recovery in the Scottish highlands of his youth, and it's not until the second half that the mystery-solving begins in earnest. Still, it's an enjoyable read, and I can add it to the list of disparate books that refer to the lost city of Wabar (see also: Declare).

Homicide and Halo-Halo by Mia P. Manansala: The second in the series, and as fun as the first. The writing wasn't as strong, but I appreciated Manansala's commitment to addressing the trauma the characters experienced in the first book, something rarely dealt with in cozy mysteries.

Jimmy Corrigan, the Smartest Kid on Earth by Chris Ware: I've been a big fan of Ware's for a long time; Building Stories was an impressive reading experience. Jimmy Corrigan is an earlier work, stemming in part from Ware's own experience with his absentee father while, like the other work, also touching on almost-crippling loneliness. Ware's artistic talent is just as impressive, but the main story left me cold, perhaps because Corrigan is simply not as engaging as the protagonist of Building Stories, perhaps because, unlike Corrigan, that protagonist actually does things rather than just allowing things to happen to her. An earlier storyine, having to do with Corrigan's grandfather as a child, was touching and heartbreaking.

The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin

N.K. Jemisin's The City We Became is both a horror-tinged fantasy response to Lovecraft and a love letter to New York City. The city, you see, is on the verge of being born when the book opens, a process only a few cities go through, and even fewer cities survive. By the end of the first chapter, NYC has survived its birth, but its avatar, a homeless, queer artist, is now in a coma from battling a mysterious entity bent on destroying cities. NYC, however, is one of those rare living cities with multiple avatars, one for each borough in addition to the primary one. These five avatars -- Bronca, Brooklyn, Manny, Padmini, and Aislyn -- must come to terms with their new status, find each other, find the primary avatar, and defeat the Woman in White.

It's a standard quest for an epic fantasy, made deeper by focusing on the diversity of the city and arguing that the city's strength comes from that. Bronca is from the Lenape tribe, the first "residents" of the land, and fittingly she is both the oldest and the one with the most knowledge of what is going on. Brooklyn is a black woman, a former rapper (possibly the most popular style of music in the world, originating in African American neighborhoods in NYC) turned politician. Padmini is an immigrant, studying hard for her own version of the American Dream. Manny is brand new to the city, having arrived at Penn Station for a job right as the main avatar collapses. I was especially delighted at this touch; Some residents, particularly Manhattanites, tend to argue that anyone not born in the city doesn't count as a New Yorker. But this city would be nothing without the newcomers who arrive every day.

And then there's Aislyn, an Irish-American woman from Staten Island -- the most isolated borough, and the most conservative. Her life has been stunted by her abusive, racist father, and she is fearful of everything. Despite that, she's on the verge of venturing out into the rest of the city (something that could help her see the world is so much bigger, and better, than her father has taught her) when the Woman in White gets a hold of her and manipulates her fear (and her second-wave feminism) to stay home. This puts Aislyn in far more danger.

Unfortunately for her, Aislyn is blind to that danger. The turning point (which she fails to see) is when she refuses to consider the warnings her own mind is giving her, because she does not want to acknowledge that her understanding of the world could be wrong. Up until then she had been a somewhat sympathetic character, someone who had the potential to transcend her small-minded upbringing. But the refusal to challenge one's own assumptions, to admit one could be wrong about something, leads to all sorts of evil. As Aislyn herself will acknowledge someday in the future, "confirmation bias is a bitch."

In this way, by highlighting the strength that comes from diversity, Jemisin is responding directly to the overt racism, fear, and conservatism of Lovecraft. The Woman in White explicitly states that it's humanity's ability to learn from each other -- ideas, viewpoints, languages, cuisines -- that makes us so strong, and allows us to continue to develop as a species. This is true, as even a cursory review of history will show. Innovations happen when cultures mix, whether by immigration, conquest, war, or trade (some of these methods being better than others). The Woman's complaint is that this growth by humanity, specifically cities, eventually harms creatures in other universes. But late in the game we learn her true identity, revealing her to be a genuine hypocrite and calling into question her previous arguments. It will be interesting to see how this tension (growth that causes destruction) is resolved, if at all, in the sequel.

Which I can't wait to read.

Cotton Quartet

 For the last few months I've been working on a delightful project by Mary Corbet:

 The outside of the sewing case is a sampler band of lots of different stitches; the inside has a bit of chicken scratch (something I haven't done in years, and I definitely want to do more) and the edge is my favorite, Palestrina knots, with beads.

Most of the stitches I was familiar with, but I'm a sucker for samplers and variety. It was also an excuse to try some new threads, cotton floche and coton a broder, in addition to floss and pearl cotton.

Corbet's directions were excellent, especially when it came to putting the case together, all stitched by hand. My instinct is to use a sewing machine, but for something like this, involving counted threadwork, hand stitching can be much more precise. I have to remember this when I finish off cross stitch ornaments.

I sure don't need yet another needle/sewing case, but how could I resist?