Neverwhere

What if every fantasy novel is just a drug-filled delusion?  Frodo's quest for the ring is just a Tolkien version of getting another opium hit. (Frodo never really gets to Mt. Doom, but in a stupor, he wanders too close to the fireplace). Or GRRM's story of Jaime Lannister is just a meth-head who accidentally sat on his hand for 6 hours. I think you could do that with any fantasy novel. Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere is an idiot tripping on LSD who thinks the sewers and the Tube are a magical world where time and space are "not what they seem." Well, duh...it's called trippin'. Also while you are tripping, you will think your jokes are much funnier than they really are.  Actually, that explains a lot.

Set in the sewers and catacombs of London, there is a whole other world where time and personal hygiene are not bound by logic. Neverwhere is where an idiot protagonist can explore, he can experience life afresh, and where he can make some really corny jokes.

This is a fine example of urban fantasy (I'm going to gloss over the joke problem) and if you like this genre why haven't you read The Rook already? C'mon! I'm sure I would get more out of this book if I had lived in London at some point. Alas, I may never get there so I just have to guess.  I imagine people walk around with pez nez peeking from their waistcoats.  If you been there and say that's not true, I still think you are a big fat liar.

Drinks:  It's getting warmer and this is set in England so that, to me, that means one thing--Gin.  How about a Ruben's Cooler 2? Note this makes 8 servings and you need to make it ahead for your party. Cut 2 cups of thinly sliced cucumber and freeze them.  Put 2&1/2 cups of Hendrick's Gin, 1&1/4 cups St.-Germain, 1 cup of fresh lemon juice and 1 tsp of kosher salt in a pitcher.  Refrigerate for 2 hours.  Add the cucumber slices and 1 1/2 cups of club soda.  Pour into 12 ounce highball glasses with ice.

David Copperfield

Well met, Sir! It sure is fun to speak in the olden-times talk. But you should use it very judiciously because I assume it would get tiresome after a while. Not unlike that Scottish accent you like to whip out...or God forbid, you have a Sean Connery impression. Anyway, it can be used if you wait for just the right moment.  One summer we were outside, having a drink of course, and a neighbor cat came sauntering up to us.  My friend, out of the blue, said: "Give that cat no quarter!"  That happened about 3 years ago and it's still funny.

I had never read any Dickens, and this is pretty funny (it's not a comedy, it just has funny moments) and you wouldn't think 170 year old jokes hold up but they do, they do. It is long, this book is not for amateurs, meaning if you read 3 or 4 books a year, please for your sake, skip it.  

If a certain Mister Copperfield was transported to today's time and I think it would freak him out. He would make so many mistakes. Quit pooping in the mixing bowls! Seriously, Dude, you do not need someone to help you dress.  I guess you can get a new cravat but it makes you look like an aging theater director.  Hey, just because you can see her ankles does NOT make her a prostitute.

If one thing Dickens was good for it was including TONS of snacks and drinks.  And punch is totally back, just like old lady names like Stella.  This one is apparently a fairly accurate Gin Punch: Take 3 lemons, and peel strips without the pith, and put in a bowl with 3/4 cup sugar. Muddle and let steep for 2-3 hours.  Juice the lemons (about 3/4 cup) and pour over your sugar peel stuff.  Transfer to a 3 quart pitcher with ice and add a 750 ml bottle of gin. Then add 1/2 cup orange liqueur and 1 liter of seltzer.  Stir and our into punch glasses or small cups.  Makes 20 servings.

Acceptance

I have the hardest time remembering the titles in this series.  To me, Acceptance is just a concept.  It doesn't have a nice little phrase like The Wind in the Willows or To Kill a Mockingbird. It's like naming your book Constancy or Fudgel.  Fudgel, is a real word.  It's quite relevant today and deserves a comeback. Although naming a book Fudgel would get Judy Blume fans overly excited and very confused.

The third in the Southern Reach series, Acceptance wraps up our mystery surrounding Area X (well, sort of). While certainly better than the unpalatable narrative in the second book, it's not as good as the first.  I liked it but didn't love it. First, it's told from many characters' viewpoints and set in both the past and the present. Second, I found the writing a bit "fancy."  Don't get me wrong, I really do like nice writing but it gets distracting using evocative language to describe phenomena over and over again.  I thought, JUST TELL ME IF THERE IS A MONSTER!  Is this monster going to eat someone? These are the questions I want answered. Not the luminosity of the numinous night with cranes fleeting against the sky. No, get those stupid cranes out of here.  Where is the monster? There is a threshold where I get distracted by the writing.  I'm one of those people that never saw those Magic Eye things either. Pony? Not for me. Dots. All I ever got was dots.

I want to give JVDM another shot.  I don't think he goes by JVDM, but I'm starting something here, like JCVD.  I would like to know if Mr. Vandermeer can do the splits between two chairs like JCVD because, if so, he should really make that a more prominent part of his bio. If you no idea what I'm talking about--shame on you! Here you go.  

A creepy secret government agency type drink seems just right (and an awesome 80's band of course): Joy Division: 2 ounces dry gin, 1 ounce dry vermouth, 1/2 ounce Cointreau and 3 dashes Absinthe. Stir in a shaker with ice, strain and garnish with a lemon twist. (I've learned my lesson with the Absinthe) so dashes--yes, dashes seem just so.

Assassin's Apprentice and Royal Assassin

What if you could read an animal's mind?  So many fantasy books have this as a theme, because let's face it, we are total suckers. Crispin, the fictional author in The Bone Clocks, even regretted his choice of genre, lamenting that he should have written books about lonely children that can talk to animals. (Ah, Crispin, your snarky observations were astute, indeed). It's true, I have read many sub-par fantasy novels with this common trope.  It would be too harsh of me to say these books (the first two in the Farseer Trilogy) are sub-par, but the second book was frustrating.  Indeed.  

I've thought about this, and honestly, I don't think I want to read my pet's mind.  I kind of already know what they are thinking anyway.  My girl cat:  Hey, I'm hungry, seriously, I'm hungry....for reals, getting hungry.  HUNGRY!  I would be like, I've GOT it. You want to be so fat you can't reach the window? I don't care...hungry. 

From my boy cat: Dude, (he talks like a surfer) I'm bored, where's that Bird thing?  You never play with it!  I do too, I'm going to watch you swing it around and just get super flat on this floor and watch you make it fly. How is that playing?  I'll go for it once. Maybe after about ten minutes, I gotta figure out his patterns, Dude.

Anyway, our boy hero in Assassin's Apprentice can speak to animals, and they are loyal, very intelligent and not nearly as manipulative as my animals.  I wish that this was the main theme of the book, but truly this is a "court intrigue" high fantasy.  Heavy on the intrigue.  Not as sophisticated, action-packed or byzantine as Game of Thrones, so it starts to kind of drag in the second book.  (Not that GOT always moves the plot forward with the speed of light either).  So, if you like characters that talk to animals, read the first book and consider yourself warned about the second. 

There is a lot of dog-talk in this book, so I think you should drink a Bloodhound: 2 parts gin, 1 part sweet vermouth, 1 part dry vermouth, and 2 or 3 crushed strawberries.  Shake with ice, strain and serve with a fresh strawberry.  I know strawberries aren't in season yet, but they will be. HUNGRY!  

        

    

Alex & Me

What is this water coming out of my eyes?  I did rub my eyes the other night just after eating salt and pepper pistachios, which I regret.  I do not regret those pistachios, no way, it was the eye rubbing, yeah, that was an error. Alex & Me is a non-fiction book about a scientist and her work on the cognitive abilities of her African Grey parrot, Alex.  Alex was very famous and the whole book starts with memorials as to his untimely passing.  Do not read this book if you've just lost a pet or other loved one, you will...be...a...mess.

The sad part is only the first part, once that's over, Pepperberg explains her thirty year study to understand this super cute bird's brain.  That sounds kind of boring, but I didn't think it was.  You should keep in mind that Pepperberg is not a typical non-fiction author, she is the scientist behind the whole project so she doesn't mess around. It's a small book.  I liked it, but I really love animals, and she writes this for us "norms." If you consider me normal, which is debatable.  By the way, we had a parakeet when I was a kid, as awesome as he was...um, I'm good on bird ownership--they will chew on anything, including your lampshades and poop indiscriminately.  

If you read this, (and even if you don't) you should definitely check out Alex's news clips on YouTube.  He was on several news segments and he was also on Nova.  He speaks quite clearly for a bird and I'm driving poor Dave crazy with my impressions.  I can't help myself.  When Alex is bored or frustrated, he wants to back to his cage saying, Wanna go back. Who hasn't been at a crappy party and thought that?  Truth, Alex, truth.

Alex often says: Wanna drink of water.  He says that when he genuinely thirsty or when he just wants to interrupt his chores.  If you "wanna" drink with something stronger, I think a bird themed drink is appropriate.  Love Birds: 1&1/2 oz. vodka, 2 oz. sweet and sour mix (preferably homemade--easy to do and worth it), 1 dash dark rum and 1/2 oz grenadine. This should be a pink drink.  Apparently when you scratch Alex's head the whites around his eye turns pink, which is the parrot equivalent of blushing, how adorable is that?

Wolf in White Van

Hulk write book titles now.  Wolf on white van sound cool too.  Maybe wolf have rising moon in background?  Sound awesome.  Wolf in White Van was not on my radar but recommended by a friend and is, well, a weird book.  Our narrator is the designer of a role playing game in which your moves are done through old-school snail mail and the designer tells you what happens next.  That sounds oddly appealing to me.  You get fun mail and play a game that takes a month to do two moves. My mail consists of Reach magazines and those moves are no fun, no fun at all.  

Not to get all "Comic Book Guy" on you, but part of this book talks about an area I know all too well and frankly, John Darnielle really blows it.  Dude, just get someone to read your draft if you don't know something.  QUIT GUESSING, FOOL. It's probably a good thing I'm not an equine expert because I read so many books with horses.   I'm sure I would be like, "Ah, that breed did not exist in that time period, and if I'm not mistaken, which I'm not, that character did not transport himself via a time machine. Thank you."

I have two friends that liked this book, but for some reason it was so not my thing. It's a pretty depressing character study with no wizards (despite the nerdy references), no snacking and the plot is told "backwards." Its one of those books, either you get it or don't. I also don't like the author's music (he's a fairly famous indie musician), especially his voice, because it is what I can only describe as "punchable."

Drinks: This book reminded me of a recipe in Jane and Michael Stern's book called Square Meals, which is as much a history of war-time food and eating than say a typical cookbook, but it is pretty funny and fascinating (especially if you are food nerd like me). I remember they wrote something like: "Are you ever having a bad day, and just want to make it worse? Well, drink Crust Coffee."  So this is the the basic recipe:  Take toast crusts or ends, not burnt (heaven forbid) and put those in a pitcher with enough hot water to cover them and let steep until cool. Strain and sweeten to taste. Enjoy?

The Bone Clocks

This novel has more texture than a 90's art installation piece.  The Bone Clocks is part fantasy, satire, dsytopian tale, modern fiction and some new genres I'm not even sure what they are. It's told from multiple points of view, it has an insane amount of names, it takes place on multiple continents and is set in the past and the future.  It has inside jokes that I knew were inside jokes but didn't quite get. In that respect…well, its quite British.  Quite.

One character is a British author named Crispin Hershey.  Crispin is a weird name for Americans.  For me, it does not exactly conjure up super sexy images but, you know, maybe it could work.  Steven Soderbergh could make a sequel to Magic Mike called Magic Crispin.  Announcer: "Ladies, put down your tea cozies and give it up for CRISPIN!!"  (Crispin, fat, middle-aged, pale author comes out in a smoking jacket and pipe) Crispin: "Well, isn't this droll."

I liked The Bone Clocks but be prepared for a challenge.  Instead of one long ride, prepare yourself to go the carnival instead.  Oh, we are going to go on the Scrambler for a while, and now the Ferris Wheel, oh, and a little detour on some Aaron Sorkin section also known as The Teacups.  Eventually you get back on the big coaster but you feel a little dizzy.  It's like that.

I actually had the flu for a bit when I was reading this, so my drink of choice was an irresponsible amount of Nyquil. I think it would make sense to drink with a classy, masculine winter drink.  The Chancellor:  2 oz. blended Scotch, 1 oz. ruby port, 1/2 oz. french vermouth,  2 dashes of orange bitters.  Stir well with cracked ice, strain and serve in a cocktail glass.