Tag: alternate history

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (Seth Grahame-Smith)

The Plot
Fifty-five years ago, the British Empire was faced with an uprising of the non-colonial sort: the dead were walking and they wanted brains. The scourge continues unabated, but life has adapted to cope with the continual threat. The five Bennett sisters have all been trained to fight the menace, but their mother would like to see them well married as well. Enter Mr. Bingley, a single young man of good fortune who has just moved into the neighborhood.

My Thoughts
When this book first came out, I resolved not to read it. The original Pride and Prejudice is my favorite book of all time, coming as close as any book has to my idea of perfection: lots of witty, interesting characters saying pithy things to one another and a happy ending to boot. I love it well enough to hate the vast majority of sequels I’ve tried, because they simply couldn’t live up to the original, or they took liberties to which I objected.

At any rate, my resolve weakened against PPZ. The author had kept a great deal of the original text, and the juxtaposition of zombies with the social machinations of the original might be, as one of Austen’s characters would put it, exceedingly diverting.

The premise is this: about a half-century before our story opens, zombies suddenly began appearing to menace the living. They are witless creatures, not impossible to destroy or even to distract, but doggedly determined in their quest for brains. Zombies seem to have two sources: the already dead may rise again, and the living may be infected by exposure (such as being bitten). In response to this, the army has mobilized, and also the general citizenry has begun to train and arm itself. Even women have received some training, including women of quite high station. The opening of a new economic door to women has seemed to have an effect on society: crudeness and innuendo is more common and there is a great deal more violence.

It’s clear from reading that the author has put at least a little thought into how this situation might change polite society. Unfortunately, in many cases it seems to have been very little. It’s hard to tell whether this is meant to be a “serious” retelling of the story or if it’s just meant to be a silly parody. Different rules apply in the latter case, but just enough effort has been made to maintain the integrity of the plot and story that the argument falls flat — this is not the literary equivalent of Scary Movie. And that makes it all the more galling in the cases where it’s abundantly clear that something has been inserted only because Grahame-Smith just couldn’t resist and not because it made sense in either the original or the re-imagining.

I get the sense, too, that the author didn’t have a great deal of respect for(or understanding of?) some of the original characters. In several places, Austen’s original text is included, but the speaker (or writer) is not the same as the original book – and yet they’re using the exact same phrasing. This is just sheer laziness on the part of the author. The work is almost bookended by the two of the most egregious examples of this: first, where Caroline Bingley takes over some of Darcy’s lines in an early exchange with Elizabeth, and then at the end, where a letter originally sent by Mr. Collins is penned instead by Colonel Fitzwilliam. In neither case are either pair of characters in any way similar and so the reassignment of words is out of character even within the context of this new book.

Similar problems arise when Austen’s text is revised for no apparent purpose beyond dumbing it down for the modern reader, something which happens at multiple points. A single example here will suffice to illustrate the danger of this.

Original:
“No. It would have been strange if they had. But I make no doubt, they often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. I should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.”

Zombies:
“No; it would have been strange if they had; but I make no doubt, they often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. I should be ashamed of putting an old woman out of her home.”

In the original text, we refer back to Mrs. Bennett’s refusal to admit that the entailment of her husband’s estate makes sense or is legitimate. Further, we have a joke: of course the entailment is pefectly legal, that is the entire problem. In the Zombie version, even though there is no zombie-related information conveyed here, the text is altered: the joke is removed and the reader is not reminded that Mrs. Bennett is ridiculous or of the inheritance situation, but instead is apparently meant to feel bad for her.

There are examples of this sort of careless editing all through the text, toning down the snarkiness of the dialogue and the narrator in some sort of misguided quest to make it more simple. In many cases, these changes cause anachronisms to creep in.

In addition to these changes, there are still more points of fail.

The illustrations: These are just awful. The clothing, which is not particularly mentioned in the text as being different in most cases, is just odd looking. Not at all correct for the time period or even sensible allowing adaptations for fighting and training.

The “Oriental” stuff: I’m not even sure where to begin with all of this. Lady Catherine with ninjas is, I’m sure, the vision that made the insertion of all of this stuff irresistible. And I wouldn’t object to it all overmuch (I leave it to someone else to complain about the potential Racefail aspects of it) were there not such a big deal made about Chinese training versus Japanese training. Because even to my non-expert eyes, it was clear to me that the author was making a distinction he was not prepared to follow through with: Chinese-trained Elizabeth fights with a Japanese sword, there are random bits of Chinese culture at Darcy’s supposedly Japan-inspired home, and so forth. If the author was actually Jane Austen, one might suppose these cross-contaminations were a subtle jibe, but unfortunately, based on the rest of the book, Grahame-Smith is incapable of such a thing.

In Short
This was actually a very clever idea, and I think it could have been very good, with just a bit more effort expended on research and editing. Unfortunately, as it stands, this was definitely a failure, as a parody (not enough liberty was taken) and as a true rewrite (it was too slap-dash and sloppy). I don’t quite regret reading it, but I definitely won’t ever be reading it again, nor will I be picking up the next book, even though it’s to have a different author.

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Farthing by Jo Walton: B-

From the back cover:
Jo Walton crosses genres without missing a beat with this stunningly powerful alternative history set in 1949, eight years after Britain agreed to peace with Nazi Germany, leaving Hitler in control of the European continent. A typical gathering at the country estate of Farthing of the power elite who brokered the […]

From the back cover:
Jo Walton crosses genres without missing a beat with this stunningly powerful alternative history set in 1949, eight years after Britain agreed to peace with Nazi Germany, leaving Hitler in control of the European continent. A typical gathering at the country estate of Farthing of the power elite who brokered the deal is thrown into turmoil when the main negotiator, Sir James Thirkie, is murdered, with a yellow star pinned to his chest with a dagger.

The author deftly alternates perspective between Lucy Kahn, the host’s daughter, who has disgraced herself in her family’s eyes by marrying a Jew, and Scotland Yard Inspector Peter Carmichael, who quickly suspects that the killer was not a Bolshevik terrorist. But while the whodunit plot is compelling, it’s the convincing portrait of a country’s incremental slide into fascism that makes this novel a standout.

Review:
I’m a fan of England, mysteries, and gay-themed literature, so I expected that Farthing would be my cup of tea. As it turns out, I was quite disappointed. Though the majority of my complaint can be summed up as, “It was just kind of weirdly put together,” there are some specific areas that bothered me enough to merit their own place on a spiffy numbered list.

1. Punctuation.
I’m starting with the most minor quibble, though it did truly bug me. A couple of times there were lists of buildings or people that were improperly punctuated. Here is an example:

There was a church, larger than most, a pub, the Eversley Arms, a row of cottages, and a high wall containing a pair of wrought-iron gates…

The way that’s written, the pub and the Eversley Arms appear to be two different things. There should be a semicolon after “most” and another after “Arms.” Because of this, a later list of attendees at the gathering had me confused as to whether Lucy’s dad and the Earl of Hampshire were the same person.

2. Woefully undeveloped gay characters.
There are, if I counted correctly, eight nominally gay or bisexual characters in this book, nine if you count Lucy’s deceased brother. For some, that’s practically all that’s known about them. Frankly, it started to get ridiculous. I’m beyond cool with having gay characters, but just having a cardboard cut-out standing there with a nametag reading “Gay” on his chest does not really count.

3. A pretty boring mystery.
The investigation into this mystery was kind of meh, with Inspector Carmichael and his sergeant doing a lot of theorizing in advance of the facts. It also seemed to hinge on locating one particular girl from a photograph who, when found, blurted out the culprit pretty anticlimactically. Granted, it was obvious by that point, anyway. The impact of the increasingly fascist government upon the investigation was kind of interesting, as Carmichael had to keep in mind that whomever he arrested would be hanged (and so he had better be absolutely certain before arresting them), but also frustrating, since the innocent Jewish fellow everyone kept insisting was guilty (even when presented with evidence to the contrary) was one of the few likable characters in the book.

When I try to recall something I particularly liked, I come up empty. The conclusion was decent enough, I suppose, though the final chapter from Lucy’s point of view ended rather ominously. I will probably finish up the rest of the trilogy, because I am a completist and because I hope it gives more closure on the Lucy front. I think the other books might feature different characters, though, so I shan’t hold my breath. Neither shall I expect to enjoy them any more than I did Farthing.

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A brief convo about Farthing

K says, “So, my question for you was, do you think it was a cop-out that even though there were a ton of LGB characters in the book, some of whom were main characters, the only sex scene we saw occuring on camera was straight?”

J says “I don’t know about a copout, but it was disappointing.”

J says “I wonder if it gets any better in HaPenny.”

J says “I don’t see any reason at all why we couldn’t have a scene with.. was it Carmichael? And Jack?”

J says “It was frustrating this guy got talked about, and he was fairly important to one of the pov character’s life and we never saw him at all.”

K mms. “Well, that happens in mysteries where the main action takes place away from the character’s home. I don’t know if the next one takes place in London or not, but it wouldn’t make sense for him to have gone off to the country with Jack in tow.”

J says “No, but he went back to London, and I’m pretty sure there was one night there at least where he was home.”

K says, “Yeah, that is true. And we did see Royston’s house kinda.”

J says “Yup. His daughter twice.”

K says, “It does seem a bit odd. Perhaps it does get better in Ha’Penny, though that’s no excuse for not having this be a more fully stand-alone novel than it actually turned out to be.”

J says “Yea.”

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J’s Take on Farthing by Jo Walton

I may have gotten around to reading this book eventually. I had seen Ha’Penny was on the list of novels being considered for the Gaylactic Spectrum Awards and borrowed it from the library, before realizing it was book two of a series. So I may or may not have been motivated to track down Farthing […]

I may have gotten around to reading this book eventually. I had seen Ha’Penny was on the list of novels being considered for the Gaylactic Spectrum Awards and borrowed it from the library, before realizing it was book two of a series. So I may or may not have been motivated to track down Farthing and read it, except that K had this idea of all of us reading and reviewing the same book, and M suggested this one.

Farthing is a British mystery set in the 1940’s, but it’s also an alternate history. Then there’s a dash of gay interest thrown in. Taken separately, I wouldn’t have been interested in this book, but all together, there’s enough there to make it worth a read.

How well does it work as a mystery? I don’t read a lot of mysteries, but it seemed to me to be rather dull and also rather obvious. We have two point of view characters, only one of which is the detective, so the other character has rather more access to information than the detectives usually get. Which means the reader knows more, and this reader is not an idiot.

In particular, there are a couple of chapters where the detective is just driving here and driving there and tracking down this bit of information that’s needed and the writing there is quite uninspired.

How does it work as an alternate history? Again, I don’t read a lot of alternate history — or real history for that matter — so I found it a little confusing. How much of the situation was true and accurate and how much was a what-if? The basic premise though, I believe, is that the UK signed a truce with Hitler to let him go on doing whatever he wanted elsewhere as long as he stayed out of Great Britain. Which, you may imagine, is not good news for the Jewish people in Europe. But on the face of it, it seems a good thing for the Brits. No more bombings, no more evacuations. The political climate is changing though. I don’t think you’ll be seeing socialized medicine in this UK.

How does it work as gay interest? Not interesting enough. One of the primary bi characters in the story is dead years before the story begins. The main character’s lover never makes it on screen. He barely even spares a thought for him. So the gay interest is all political. Which is fine and all, but it would’ve been nice to see some affection, no matter how non-public and discreet it would need to have been.

So all in all, rather disappointing on all fronts. The two positives I will say about it are, one, that it was very readable, even in the more uninteresting of the chapters. It didn’t feel like a slog. And, two, I found the two point of view characters interesting and likeable. I would read more with either of those characters, though I would be fervently hoping for some more interesting plots and scenes to come along.

If I were to give it stars out of five, I’d give it a very middle-of-the-road 3.

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Farthing (Jo Walton)

The Plot
In 1941, before Pearl Harbor brought the United States into WWII, Britain made a treaty with Nazi Germany and abandoned Europe to the Third Reich. Eight years later, Hitler is still in power, most of Europe is under his control, and the Jewish people are being systematically exterminated. The British Empire remains […]

The Plot
In 1941, before Pearl Harbor brought the United States into WWII, Britain made a treaty with Nazi Germany and abandoned Europe to the Third Reich. Eight years later, Hitler is still in power, most of Europe is under his control, and the Jewish people are being systematically exterminated. The British Empire remains free, but hanging out with the wrong crowd for so long is beginning to tell. When Sir James Thirkie, the architect of the peace treaty, is found murdered in his bed during a country house weekend, Scotland Yard is dispatched to find out who did it.

My Thoughts
I’m not sure how realistic I find the scenario proposed in this book. The turning point in this alternate history is the peace treaty Britain signs with Germany in 1941, around the time the Blitz is ending. Why would Germany propose peace at that time? Why would Britain agree? I’m not sure. Germany clearly gets something out of the deal — they no longer have to fight a war on two fronts. But they started the war in the first place, so they surely thought they could win. There are hints also that Japan was not defeated either, and certainly things are going oddly in the United States, as Charles Lindbergh is president instead of becoming a pariah. I don’t feel like enough information was given to make a conclusion as to how logical this was or not. The history is just presented as is, without any real information given other than the existence of this peace accord.

In addition to these broad issues with the whole timeline, there are a few problems in the specifics of the characters. Bisexuality and homosexuality appear to be rampant among the cast of characters assembled. I’m all for presenting these things as common, but it starts to feel like a BL manga when the whole cast is sleeping with or has slept with someone of the same sex. There were about 10-12 characters who had more than a walk on appearance in the story, and of those, half were either currently or previously involved in a same-sex relationship.

The solution to the mystery was also presented in a confusing fashion. In the grand tradition of the golden age crime novel, the solution was presented at the end by the detective. He gives a grand monologue to his superior, going over all the things he’s managed to learn and how they relate to the crime. But the Inspector presented the case in a pretty wishy washy fashion, with very little actual evidence and lots of conjecture. He never managed to actually acquire several important facts which would have strengthened his conclusions. I don’t doubt that his lack of information, contrasted with the similar but different lack of information of Lucy Kahn, the book’s other protagonist, was part of the point, but it just made it seem like he wasn’t particularly competent.

I also have to say that I found it jarring to keep skipping back and forth between first person chapters from Lucy’s point of view to third person chapters from Carmichael’s point of view. It’s a very odd style choice.

The writing itself, I can find little to gripe about. It was plain and to the point, without a lot of frills and pointless description cluttering it up. If not for the depressing subject matter making it difficult to read for an extended period of time, the book would have been a reasonably quick read.

In Short
Overall, I think this book was trying to be too many things at once. It was a country house mystery, it was an alternate history, it was a political intrigue, it was a social commentary. Unfortunately, the author was not quite up to the task. What suffered the most was the central mystery plot, which was full of holes and unresolved threads. Many of the rules of the Detection Club were broken. There were a number of other far-fetched bits which also detracted from the whole, though given the idiotic behavior of politicians in the real world, that was more a case of fiction needing to be less insane than reality. It’s difficult to evaulate the book on its own, though, as in spite of the mystery seemingly wrapping up by the end, it’s really not a stand alone novel. If you like alternate histories, you may like this one; I wouldn’t recommend it for straight up mystery fans.

I also take exception to the classification of this book as science fiction. It is not science fiction; there is no science whatsoever involved in the plot. The correct classification would be speculative fiction, of which science fiction is a subgenre along with fantasy, alternative histories and a few other hybrids.

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