The Eye of Argon

The Eye of Argon
by Jim Theis


Blurb:

This is not a hoax. Jim Theis was a real person, who wrote The Eye of Argon in all seriousness as a teenager, and published it in a fanzine, Osfan, in 1970. But the story did not pass into the oblivion that awaits most amateur fiction. Instead, a miracle happened, and transcribed and photocopied texts began to circulate in science fiction circles, gaining a wide and incredulous audience among both professionals and fans. It became the ultimate samizdat, an underground classic, and for more than thirty years it has been the subject of midnight readings at conventions, as thousands have come to appreciate the negative genius of this amazing Ed Wood of prose.

My Reaction:
Donald and I read this... long short story? extremely brief novella?... together after seeing that it had been chosen for the "book club podcast" 372 Pages We'll Never Get Back.  I'd never heard of it before this and can almost guarantee that, were it not for the podcast, would never have read it.

It's such a short work that you can't really write much about it without giving away what passes for the plot.  Suffice it to say that it's amazingly bad-- yet perversely entertaining.  This has undoubtedly been the most fun I've had reading something so poorly written.

It must be experienced to be fully appreciated.  I might have shared a quote to tempt you, at this point, but there are too many dizzyingly awful ones to choose among; I couldn't do it!  However, it's available for free online (be sure to find a version with the illustrations), and it doesn't take long to read.  If you're a connoisseur of bad literature, it's not to be missed.

Like other reviewers before me, I don't know how to rate The Eye of Argon!  Is it one star because the writing is so unfathomably atrocious-- or five stars because it had us howling with laughter?  A three-star rating seems impossible, because there's nothing mediocre about this... this... whatever it is.

The Pole Vault Championship of the Entire Universe

The Pole Vault Championship of the Entire Universe
by Conor Lastowka


Blurb:

Kara Everglades has just finished her first year of high school and is longing for an adventure. So far her only option is an invitation from some upperclassmen to watch them drunkenly race a bunch of bullfrogs in a ditch. To be honest, she was hoping for something a bit more exciting.

Her grandfather, Cornelius Everglades, is a renegade who founded his own island micronation. Unfortunately, the rest of the world refuses to acknowledge it (possibly because he’s gone about the nation-building process using wildly illegal and unethical means).

When Cornelius shows up at Kara’s door needing her help and promising an adventure, Kara agrees to go along with his far-fetched plan to put his micronation on the map, even though a) she thought Cornelius was dead, and b) his scheme depends heavily on Kara wearing a mascot costume.

If Kara had known about the giant alien spaceship currently speeding toward her grandfather’s country with the intent to subjugate and humiliate mankind, she might have reconsidered.

My Reaction:
Donald and I decided to read this together after enjoying the "372 Pages" podcast by the author, Conor Lastowka, and Michael J. Nelson (of MST3K and Rifftrax fame).  We didn't know what to expect, but considering that the author writes for Rifftrax (and was funny in the podcast), we were optimistic.

It took me a little while to acclimate to this style of humor (which often veers into the absurd), but once we'd settled in, it was a very funny read, and we laughed more and more frequently as the story progressed.

At first, I thought the book was tailored for a young adult audience (mainly because of a teenage protagonist and the cartoony cover art), but some adult language (and maybe a few of the jokes) soon disabused me of that notion.  (Not that modern YA is pure as the driven snow, as far as cursing goes.  An older YA reader could enjoy this book, but I wouldn't say it's necessarily geared toward that audience.)

Both Donald and I thought that Cornelius was a strange, completely unsympathetic character (especially for a long-lost grandpa)-- and I'm not sure how I felt about Kara's increasing resemblance to him-- but this isn't exactly the kind of novel you should take too seriously, so though I don't really like Cornelius, I enjoyed the humor he brought to the story.

We agreed that the strongest parts of the novel were those featuring the aliens, which we thoroughly enjoyed.  (I wouldn't mind reading more about them, in fact.)

Recommended to anyone in need of a good laugh!

The Matrix

The Matrix
by Jonathan Aycliffe


Blurb:

After the death of his wife, Scottish scholar Andrew Macleod finds solace in his research. Delving into an ancient text entitled Matrix Aeternitatis, Andrew allows himself to be drawn into an inner circle of evil from which there is no escape. Poised on the edge of the horrific abyss between life and death, Andrew's life will never again be his own.

My Reaction:
(No, not that one.  The "Matrix" in this novel is an ancient-- and evil-- book of magic.)

You'll recognize most of the bits and pieces of this novel-- particularly if you've a penchant for good old-fashioned atmospheric horror and Lovecraftian "weird fiction".  However, recognizing the signs, knowing full well what's coming, and (mentally) shouting at the characters, "Stop, for goodness' sake!"-- that's all part of the fun of this type of book.

If you don't mind predictability, there's plenty to enjoy here.

One thing, though, that I can never understand in books of this type (and it does seem to happen fairly often) is this:  How can a character who has witnessed all sorts of magical, mystical, paranormal phenomena be so certain that none of the "good stuff" could possibly also be true?  No God, or in this case, no heaven.  I guess it's supposed to contribute to the overall feeling of gloom and dread-- no light at the end of the tunnel-- but I find it illogical and strange.

I'd give this 3.5 stars if possible.

Stranger at Wildings

Stranger at Wildings
by Madeleine Brent


Blurb:

Here is a tale of charm and adventure-- set in Europe around the turn of the century--whose colorful action ranges from a touring circus in Hungary to the fox-hunting society of the English countryside to the elegant circles of wealth and fashion in London. It is the story of a spirited young woman of eighteen who has left an unhappy, uncertain past in England and made a new life for herself as a trapeze artist in a small touring circus... 

But that forgotten past will stumble upon her one day, beside a stream in Hungary, where the circus has pitched its tents for a time. It will come in the form of a mysterious young man-- handsome, appealing, yet curiously remote-- whose appearance is the beginning of a strange, dangerous intrigue that involves deception, romance, disappearance and, in the end, the revelations of a family's darkest secrets.

My Reaction:
This is the third "Madeleine Brent" novel I've read, to date.  The first, Moonraker's Bride, I loved; the second, Merlin's Keep, was slightly less of a favorite, but I'd still give it 4.5 stars.  Stranger at Wildings is another star down the ladder, for me.

I enjoyed parts of the book and the overall tone-- it's one of those books where you know everything will turn out okay and nothing too bad will happen to the main characters-- but there were also times when I couldn't suppress an eye-roll or even an inward groan.  I don't remember feeling that way about Moonraker's Bride.

Perhaps part of my problem with the book was that circuses and medical ambitions aren't exactly tailored to my personal literary sweet spots, though I did enjoy aspects of the circus element better than I would've expected.  Also, while I knew to expect amazing coincidences, some of these were a bit much!

So, not a favorite, but a decent read.  I'd recommend it to fans of the genre, but not as an introduction to the author.

No Fond Return of Love

No Fond Return of Love
by Barbara Pym


Blurb:

Dulcie Mainwaring, the heroine of the book, is one of those excellent women who is always helping others and never looking out for herself-- especially in the realms of love. The novel has a delicate tangle of schemes and unfulfilled dreams, hidden secrets and a castle or two. Told wonderfully in the deadpan honesty that has become a Pym hallmark, this book is a delight.

My Reaction:
Donald and I chose this almost at random as our latest "shared read-aloud" book. We were in need of something for our next read and selected this from what I already had loaded on my Kindle. Choice was limited (lots of horror on there, at the moment), and this was the closest to our usual fare of light humor. I'd been meaning to try some Pym, but had never really planned on it being shared reading material. However, it served that purpose better than I would've predicted, and I think we both enjoyed it!

I found my first Pym to be much as advertised-- a relatively quiet, unassuming story (a not particularly romantic romance) about a year or so in the lives of a smallish cast of characters, most of whom are members of the English middle class.

Essentially, it's a modern/mid-century comedy of manners. The sense of humor is mild and restrained ("dry" is probably the standard descriptor), but it is unquestionably there and springs up at some unexpected moments.

Embedded in a rather simple tale of ordinary people are moments of keen insight and honesty, just slipped in here and there, casually-- the type of observations where you instantly recognize yourself and your own life (for better or worse!). Those tiny blips of brilliance give this novel a surprising depth and complexity that elevate it to the level of "literature".

I believe I first came across Pym as a recommendation for fans of E.F. Benson's Lucia series. I would agree with the suggestion, but with the caveat that (based on the little Pym I've read) Benson's Lucia novels have a slightly acrid, often biting sense of humor and more outsized character personalities than Pym's, where the humor is softer, muted-- more representative, maybe, of real life. Benson makes me laugh harder, but Pym is more profound (and a little bittersweet).

I'll certainly be reading more from this author!