The Lies of Locke Lamora & Red Seas Under Red Skies by Scott Lynch

Amazon calls Locke Lamora a picaresque fantasy, which is a fancy way of saying roguish. The titular character is the greatest of con men, in the vein of Danny Ocean. Like Ocean, Locke has his merry band of men to help him pull off bigger heists than most could conceive. Along the way, Locke encounters more than his share of twists and scrapes, and is generally worse off for his efforts.

I loved The Lies of Locke Lamora. The character of Locke was wonderfully realized, the schemes fantastic, and the villains were wicked enough to make me wonder how everything would come out in the end.

On a bit of a sour note, it was very obvious that the book was written in the three act structure with each act being drastically different in tone from each other. The first act was much like Ocean’s Eleven in tone: airy, witty, and roguish. The second act was dark and the third was filled with action. While I liked each act very much, I would have appreciated a bit more consistency between them.

The followup entry, Red Seas Under Red Skies, was not nearly as good as Lies, but I still found it enjoyable. It nearly fell into what I call the Terry Goodkind Trap: setting up an impossible to overcome situation so that it requires rewriting rules for the heroes to win the day. That’s even worse than a deus ex machina, in my opinion. However, Lynch sets up the near-impossible situation and its resolution is a bit far-fetched but plausible.

Overall, a fine, fine book followed by a fine sequel. Recommended.

The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

Kvothe is a washed-up demigod (in abilities, not divinity). He’s hung up his sword, turned his back on his magic, and gone incognito. A chronicler finds out his identity and asks him to tell the tale of his mythical life. Kvothe, seeing the world and his own life spiraling into darkness, agrees. The storytelling takes him three days. The Name of the Wind is the first of those three days.

Another book that I absolutely loved. More than the other two authors featured here, Rothfuss is a wordsmith. I easily got lost in his writing only to be consistently impressed with his phrasing and word choice.

Since the book’s success hinged on the main character, it is great that Kvothe is such a fantastic character. It was fun watching him grow up, deal with tragedy and hardship and finally joining a wizards’ school not too dissimilar from Hogwarts. I’m sure Rothfuss would cringe at that comparison, but it’s an apt analogy.

The only complaint I can raise here is the fact that the next two books in the trilogy aren’t already published. He has everything written, but the editing process is slow and Rothfuss’s newfound fame and baby-in-the-wings has slowed it even more.

Book one will make you yearn for two and three. Read it if you dare, but don’t forget about it if you choose to wait for the other two to be published.

The Blade Itself, Before They Are Hanged, & Last Argument of Kings by Joe Abercrombie

Assembled of an ensemble of characters, The First Law series by Abercrombie features cantankerous wizards, barbarian hordes, religious zealots, and a crippled torturer. Armies of mighty nations are arraying against the incompetently-ruled Union. Evil foes are breaking the Laws of Magic and devouring the flesh of man, granting them powerful magics. All that stands in their way is an international grouping of disparate personalities and a tired, crippled inquisitor.

While Locke Lamora and Kvothe are the linchpins of their respective books, Abercrombie does not rely too heavily on any one character. Glotka, Logen, Jezal, Bayaz, West, Dogman, and Ferro are all POV characters. But George R. R. Martin this isn’t; the characters are for the most part together, interacting with one another.

This isn’t necessarily fair of me to put out a review before I’ve finished the series, but I’m a little over halfway through and I can tell you that I love it passionately. Of the new guard, only Rothfuss has the potential to outdo Abercrombie here. Abercrombie’s writing isn’t as sterling as Rothfuss’s, but his characters are tremendous. Glotka is one of the best characters I’ve ever read. Only Dogman and Ferro are at all flat, and I give Dogman a pass because his coolness and that of the rest of the Northmen in his band. I’ve read complaints about Jezal being too whiny and flat, but I rather like the arc I see Abercrombie taking with him. Though I admit he is trying to read about (akin to Martin’s Sansa).

Unless Abercrombie blows it in the remaining book and a half, this will count among my favorite series of all time. Go read it!

When I watch a movie, I tend to get immersed in it, much as I read a novel. I tend to forget that I’m observing a artificial medium and I experience the story. That’s largely the reason I need characters I can connect with, otherwise my immersion isn’t enjoyable.

There are a few technical aspects that get in the way of this immersion. If the film is grainy or the lighting is too dark, I lose interest. If the sound is too poor to allow me to hear the dialogue clearly, I lose interest. It wasn’t until the mid-’80s that the technology finally approached realism. It was perfected in the early ’90s, allowing me to be engrossed by the movie.

I also get turned off by the hamminess present in many silver screen films. People spoke differently in movies; everything had a hyper-realistic quality I assume meant to counteract their technological deficiencies. If someone were to speak and behave as they did in classic films, they’d be laughed into depression. This too, is a barricade to me being able to forget that I am watching a movie.

Now, this normally isn’t an issue for me. I just avoid movies made before 1990. But then when someone asks if I’ve seen The Godfather or The Seven Samurai, I have to respond negatively and launch into my explanation. I also get perturbed with the infamous “Top 100 Movies to See Before You Die”-type lists (see AFI or Yahoo). They’re largely populated by movies released before my cutoff.

I’ve given them chances, I really have. It’s been a decade since I’ve seen some of these, but I’ll go through a few off of Yahoo’s list:

Apocalypse Now (1979) – Lighting too dark to make out, dialogue strange (purposefully), too mind-trippy for me to enjoy.

Blade Runner (1982) – Lighting and sound quality very poor, movie way too slow (and I love slowly developing movies), villains far too campy.

Casablanca (1942) – I personally don’t get the hoopla surrounding this movie. I’m not a fan in nearly any aspect.

Dr. Strangelove (1964) – I hate, hate, hate Kubrick, and this suffered from very dark lighting too.

It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) – I’m on the fence with this movie. Decent story and good acting, but still hyper-realistic and campy.

On the Waterfront (1954) – This movie nearly put me to sleep. Besides Brando, who really grounded his character, the acting was campy. The lighting made it near impossible to make anything out.

Psycho (1960) – Another classic movie I could not enjoy because of the technical deficiencies.

Rebel Without a Cause (1955) – It’s been fifteen years since I’ve seen this, but I remember disliking it due to camp.

You’ll notice there are several absolute “classics” on the list, if not all of them. I get reamed every time I mention that I dislike these movies. The technological drawbacks of earlier films coupled with general hammy acting has kept me from viewing classics like Citizen Kane, The Godfather, Raging Bull, and The Graduate. I’m afraid I’m going to hate them too. I’d much prefer thinking Kane and Godfather as absolute classics instead of knowing they are not.

Every time I’ve gone through this spiel with someone explaining why I haven’t seen their favorite movie yet, they tell me, “No, it’s different with this one!” I give it a shot and hate it. It sucks. I know these movies are supposed to be good, I just can’t enjoy them because of the way I watch movies. It doesn’t always work out the way — but it usually does.

As an added bonus, here are a few exceptions to my rule:

E.T. (1982) – Speilberg does a great job with lighting, acting, etc.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) – The humor outweighs the horrid lighting and sound quality.

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) – Speilberg again. He’s a technical wizard.

Rocky (1976) – This movie suffers from poor lighting and a sluggish middle, but it had a modern feel to it that let it work me over.

Star Wars (1977) – I absolutely love these movies. There’s little else to be said about them besides that besides the hair styles and the sets, this movie doesn’t look like it was made in the late ’70s.

This is Spinal Tap (1984) – I mention the famous mockumentary because it didn’t aim to be a film and therefore didn’t require my immersion.

Tootsie (1982) – Looks like it was filmed in the early ’90s, the story is great, and Dustin Hoffman amazing.

The Wizard of Oz (1939) – I watched this when I was so young it has the nostalgia factor going for it. Otherwise, I think it’d be nigh unwatchable.