From the Nightstand

I just started reading two new books. I always read two at a time - one fiction, one non - because I like to be able to pick between the two depending on my mood.

The nonfiction title is Montcalm and Wolfe, by Francis Parkman. Why read a history book first published over a hundred years ago? Well, my knowledge of the French and Indian War (known abroad as the Seven Year's War) is scanty, and Parkman's account is a classic that reads as well in the 21st century as it did in the 19th. The fact that many of the events chronicled occurred within driving residence of chez Dan - in the neighborhood so to speak - make the book even more compelling. And finally, I've had a lifelong interest in military history. Some folks find this odd. Then again some folks subscribe to the silly notion that violence never solves anything. But now I'm starting to stray from my narrative path, and Caleb Carr explains the appeal of the genre much better than I can.

My current fiction read is Perdido Street Station, by China Mieville. I've loved reading fantasy and science fiction ever since my Dad pressed a copy of The Hobbit into my greedy little seven year old hands. The unfortunate thing is that there is a lot of hideous bilge published in both of these genres - awful pseudo-Tolkien nonsense standing alongside the thin gruel of badly written space opera. Although I'm only thirty pages into Perdido Street Station so far, Mr. Mieville seems to have turned the trick of coming up with something new and compelling. I haven't enjoyed a fantasy novel this much since Gaiman's American Gods.