The Telling Book Review

Rawr Reader,

Two books in one month? What! I know I'm proud of myself too. I actually finished this novel a couple days ago and am still ruminating. Much to delve into.

The synopsis for The Telling by Ursula K. Le Guin is provided by Goodreads:

Once a culturally rich world, the planet Aka has been utterly transformed by technology. Records of the past have been destroyed, and citizens are strictly monitored. But an official observer from Earth named Sutty has learned of a group of outcasts who live in the wilderness. They still believe in the ancient ways and still practice its lost religion - the Telling.

Intrigued by their beliefs, Sutty joins them on a sacred pilgrimage into the mountains...and into the dangerous terrain of her own heart, mind, and soul.

Reference:

    Instead of being rather general with a normal Instagram or Goodreads rec instead I'll share where I first heard of this prolific author, the movie: The Jane Austen Book Club. The adorable Grigg, played excellently by Hugh Dancy, is a nerd for anything sci-fi and tries to indoctrinate another less-genre-more-literary member of the eponymous group into trying out some Le Guin. Out of curiosity, I knew I had to give her a chance. 

Review:

   What's the best kind of read? Books about books. What's the next best thing? Stories about stories. Oral, written, melodic, instrumental—cast me away, spellbind me into waves of alliteration or the open winds of free verse. 

   One of my favorite things about Le Guin is her breadth of language. In my humble opinion, the structure of her stories aren't so much formed by technical frames. Her stories are as much a soul as one of her characters. You remember less about hair color or shape of nose but how they made you feel, what memories you created together. When I read a Le Guin, The Telling being my fourth, I am not only transported to another world. Her language evokes emotions as much as the actions of characters. Her world structures invite speculation and introspection. And probably one of the greatest gifts an author can leave: to have the reader discover something new with each reread.

   A quote of hers that resonates with me is from the 65th National Book Awards in 2014, where Le Guin earned the Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. She says:

"Right now, I think we need writers who know the difference between production of a market commodity and the practice of an art."

   There are people who have voices that are loud and make statements in their epochs, then there are people who speak gently and whose voices reverberate throughout history. As a writer myself, I take pride in being an artist. And hearing someone take up arms against the system no matter how small they may be or outnumbered, to use their platform to lift the message that writing isn't something to commercialize with disposable and expendable attention but to study, respect, and grow from through longevity. This work of art is a prime example.

    Our protagonist Sutty is in search of truth. The people of the planet Aka are strictly monitored. The few she interacts with spew the same scripted responses. Perhaps they live freer lives—but she never witnesses it. In an unexpected turn of events, she's granted permission as an Observer from Terra to leave the major city Dovza City and travel to a smaller community to learn cultural languages and literature—which is the reason of her presence on Aka the first place. Far from technology, far from modern civilization, the people of Okzat-Ozkat take in the alien from Earth with more nuanced curiosity and shy enthusiasm. Throughout her time in Okzat-Ozkat she begins to realize that the culture and society she was accustomed to in Dovza City was in fact not reflective of the cultures in less monitored cities. Within the last one hundred years (during Sutty's transit from Earth to Aka), the planet went through a major cultural wash. Many books were destroyed. Languages and customs forbidden. It is in Okzat-Ozkat where traces of the past linger and where Sutty makes her greatest discovery.

   The Telling. A religion without a clear definition. A religion that is highly regarded even in guarded times. Its weight isn't measured by conventional means. Its significance is in a way heightened due to the illegality of it. Carriers of the Telling, the maz, itinerants and typically elders, spread the Telling through oral renditions. The stories they tell are endless and in a beautiful way, the interpretations are as well. 

   What makes this religion very appealing you might ask? Aside from a spoiler (down below), it focuses on connection, community, and respect. It places worth on the mundane. It values a simple life and the experiences within one.

   There is an antagonist, a Monitor (whom Sutty prefers to label than name), who doesn't cater to the flashiness of a Terran in his presence. In the world of Aka, Terrans are known to possess knowledge and technology that is valuable which make the arrival of any Terran alien held in esteem. His significance goes beyond shallow motives like stopping Sutty from learning about secret societies as he harbors a secret that Sutty never would have imagined. 

   The story's strength comes from understanding the culture of this alien species and their customs. What is so rewarding about Le Guin's worldbuilding is that you can feel the history that's occurred by the language used (between characters this time—not Le Guin's writing) and the events that take place which explain the present way of life. Her worldbuilding reminds me of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series. He doesn't baby the reader. You land in the action and you have to learn to keep up. (Though Le Guin has a softer, more eloquent way of landing you in the action.) Because, you the reader is not just comparing one small community's way of life to you the reader's reality—you need to compare it to the present dominant way of life on Aka AND against Sutty's memories of ways of living back on Terra. A pinch political, but Sutty wants to prevent what happened, the irreversible destruction on Terra, from happening here. It's honestly amazing Le Guin managed so much in a novel under 250 pages*.

   Now I know science fiction can be a little challenging in regards to relating to characters. Sutty doesn't have as many layers to her as Jamie Lannister, Frankenstein's Monster, Mattie Ross, etc, but like I mentioned above, she is in search of a truth, in particular a truth she was unable to find back on her home world. And I think all of us can connect in even a small way with wanting to know a bigger truth about our existence and being alive. I was glad she was the eyes we saw this world through. She's a historian, striving to be unbiased, eager to learn, open to listening—as readers we want to discover a world with as little influence from our pasts and to discover a world like everyone else. Not through only good experiences and not through only bad. We want the full spectrum, humor and tragedy and triumphs and lessons galore.

   I hate to be repetitive (again!) but this really is a landmark novel. It could take maybe even a couple reads to really appreciate the weight that this novel carries. Premise is one thing, delivery is another, but stamping an impression through your narrative that can transcend generations is an entire feat altogether. Ursula Le Guin, I only wish I could have met you—but thank you for your words. They will not be forgotten. 

I give this book 4.5/5 stars.

Quote:

"She was living among people to whom the highest spiritual attainment was to speak the world truly, and who had been silenced."

"There's a Hainish parable of the Mirror. If the glass is whole, it reflects the whole world, but broken, it shows only fragments, and cuts the hand that holds it."

-Ursula K. Le Guin, The Telling

My Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7170636-nicole

Next To Read:

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

Spoilers:

   I want to mention the spoiler about the Telling religion which I didn't want to give away in my review. The Telling is a religion of stories, many stories that almost never match exactly than when another maz tells it, however what I loved most about it is the fact that it's a religion that isn't at its root based on morals. Religions tend to be that way. They tend to dictate to people to perform a certain way. To not perform a certain way. To believe only what was told by a certain person or text. However the Telling doesn't derive its power from that. It is a religion of stories about people. It's focus is on community. You can extract lessons from their telling or you cannot. The Telling is meant to be a present ghost of people who lived long ago. Wicked or good, brave and foolish and fundamentally human (okay this is a stretch since Akans are literally aliens but you get my point). The stories are sometimes simple and sometimes heroic. At its base, they are stories of experiences, each unique because we all have experience life unique from one another. 

   Another strength Sutty learns about this religion is that due to its stripping of moral juice the religion only asks for people to listen. "Not to question, only to listen" (page 153, The Telling by Ace publishers, 2001). Perhaps its running on the coattails of recent years, but its something we in our instant gratification and social media society can all learn to relearn. (This girl included!) We can all slow down, make an effort to listen to one another.

    The Monitor was a character I couldn't quite put my finger on. I wanted more of his presence to be the textbook definition opposite force to my protagonist who causes turmoil and challenges—but Le Guin didn't want to tell the narrative you expect—nay want. In fact, the revelation that he actually grew up with the Telling and had been reformed into forgetting it and wanting to eradicate it was a very surprising and appropriate twist. It made his character more interesting by about 8 points and then made his suicide pages later more poetic, as it mirrors a story Sutty overheard a maz share not long before, (one that must've stayed with him after years). I would like to note how as Sutty begins to understand the Monitor, he becomes less a label and more of a person; lost as she was (mirrors everywhere! not just in stories ;) ), and eventually comes to regard him by his name (Le Guin let me tell you). 

   I thought I wanted to write an essay in this section about how incredible Le Guin's worldbuilding was, but upon reflection, I'm afraid it'll sound more like proof I read the book. While I've covered a fair amount, there is still so much I hadn't covered—locals in Okzat-Ozkat, stories maz share, Sutty's past, the politics on Aka and how the system was formed, what exists in the mountains. Too much for me to say without sharing an essay longer than the novel itself. I stand by wanting to grow and allowing myself the pleasure and honor of discovering something new each time I read this. How many books can I say that for?

   If you've gotten this far without reading it . . . naughty . . . but I'm glad I put my foot down. Go read this, wonderful you. I don't think you'll regret it.

Until Next Time,

Nicole Ciel

*My copy of The Telling is an Ace Trade paperback edition, published 2001

Washington Black Book Review

 Rawr Reader,

I am just shy of the first day of summer, but let me say welcome anyways because in Florida it definitely feels like summer started months ago. I've been on the hunt for a good "summer read" to kickoff the season and in my mind wouldn't settle for anything that didn't comprise of an adventure. And also, I love the cover. Hehe

The synopsis for Washington Black by Esi Edugyan is provided by Goodreads: 

 

A dazzling adventure story about a boy who rises from the ashes of slavery to become a free man of the world.

George Washington Black, or "Wash," an eleven-year-old field slave on a Barbados sugar plantation, is terrified to be chosen by his master's brother as his manservant. To his surprise, the eccentric Christopher Wilde turns out to be a naturalist, explorer, inventor, and abolitionist. Soon Wash is initiated into a world where a flying machine can carry a man across the sky, where even a boy born in chains may embrace a life of dignity and meaning--and where two people, separated by an impossible divide, can begin to see each other as human. But when a man is killed and a bounty is placed on Wash's head, Christopher and Wash must abandon everything.

What follows is their flight along the eastern coast of America, and, finally, to a remote outpost in the Arctic. What brings Christopher and Wash together will tear them apart, propelling Wash even further across the globe in search of his true self.

From the blistering cane fields of the Caribbean to the frozen Far North, from the earliest aquariums of London to the eerie deserts of Morocco, Washington Black tells a story of self-invention and betrayal, of love and redemption, of a world destroyed and made whole again, and asks the question, What is true freedom?

Reference:

I believe I was surfing Goodreads and I spotted this lovely cover under the Readers Also Enjoyed category.

Review:

    It almost evokes nostlagia. Reading can take us to far off places that have never existed and also transport us to revisit places we've known from our past. While I've never visited Barbados, the premise reminded me a lot of two personal favorite film of mine: The Mummy and The Mummy Returns. Subject matter differ in almost all fronts, yet we have an adventure spun from a hot environment where the protagonists are swept off to travel across at least one continent to recover something that has been lost to them.

    Firstly, Edugyan's writing is that melody of writing that makes the entire endeavor appear effortless. From the images of the plantation to the brutality of slaves, we're not only spectators of a past era but have become fully immersed in the scenes. We rage with soulless masters and tremble with helpless men. The cruelties inflicted are easy to envision yet hard to see, not the least cruelties inflicted between slaves themselves. 

    And our main set of eyes are through the eyes of young slave George Washington Black, a young boy who does his best to please both master and his personal protector, an older slave named Big Kit. Our endearing protagonist falls under the sight of the new master's brother, Christopher "Titch" Wilde, a scientist and rather alien specimen in Washington's eyes for the fact he doesn't act like most white men. In fact, he doesn't tolerate the institution of slavery at all. One way he wishes to combat his heartless brother is by enlisting Washington as an assistant in building an aerial machine, the Cloudcutter.

    From this point I couldn't stop reading. It's on the precipice of an illusion of fantasy even amongst the stains of human abuse and destruction. Washington will embark on a journey that will transform him not unlike many bildungsroman or coming-of-age tales. He will face cutthroat men, he will face kind men, he will face men who appear kind and are ruthless and likewise vicious-looking men who are in truth silent revolutionaries. A story on race cannot sidestep the presence of it and I felt throughout the story we feel that with Washington, not only as a black man, but as a disfigured man. He's at a disadvantage every step of the way and falls short in the eyes of the world even when he succeeds. Even being in accompaniment with a white man of privilege, his status is constantly at risk. His attachment to Titch grows and over time we begin to realize something. The attachment formed serves as much a hard blow to come as it does a comfort in the present.

    Titch is remarkably open-minded. He takes a young boy with no future and offers him one, and in this kindness the universe reveals a hidden ability: Washington's talent toward drawing. On one side his drawing allows him to help Titch with his experiments and research, on the other his drawing reveals untapped potential and sparks a new passion he was never allowed to experience before: an appreciation for nature. 

    Through a series of unfortunate events, Washington and Titch launch off of the Caribbean island. As indicated in the synopsis, we travel to America then north to the Arctic. We travel east to Europe and then to Africa. All the while Titch and Washington find moments of grace and encounter souls whose motivations we can less easily understand.

    The pair are likeable characters and I found the theme of inner growth profound. It isn't as clear at first what they are searching for, more in Titch's case than Washington as we are not in his mind, but over time as the quest continues and experiences are made, we begin to see how fragile and how strong the constitution of man is regardless of birth. Hurts range from white to black, from child to adult, from women to men, and that helping each other despite degree can be our greatest remedy and our greatest chance to enjoy and understand life.

    The ending brings readers back to the beginning, not literally of course, but in the mindset of our protagonist. Following the events Washington experiences throughout the novel, it sets him behind the lens and allows him to see the hurt Titch suffered not through the eyes of eleven-year-old Wash, but as a young adult Washington. The very last scene in particular I thought was very beautiful. I witnessed it more than felt the scene, and honestly I believe it made more of a lasting impression than had characters expressed themselves verbally or we readers were placed within the mind of the character. We were as vulnerable as the character. We were as exposed as the character. And we marched forward with the courage and uncertainty of the character. 

I give this book 4/5 stars.

Quote:

"You were more concerned that slavery should be a moral stain upon white men than by the actual damage it wreaks on black men."

-Washington Black 

Esi Edugyan, Washington Black

My Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7170636-nicole

Next To Read:

The Telling by Ursula K. Le Guin

Spoilers:

    I would like to say my greatest disappointment in this book was the fact that the book cover is very misleading. I signed up for an adventure aboard a flying ship, and we only got the first quarter of the book in it, and not even the entire first quarter, like one chapter. I understand the brevity, a metaphor of the way a young person views the world versus an adult—we can't see Washington growing up and viewing things of his past differently if he grew up living and being around the Cloudcutter. However what a device! I guess if it took up too much of the narrative the story would be drier and less comprised in realism. 

    I would like to give an Underdog Award (and I'm honestly very tempted to give one for each book moving forward) to someone I came to appreciate and like more than I thought I would: Philip. I didn't understand him at first. Not quite Titch but not quite Erasmus. By the end, when Titch explains to Washington that he and Erasmus mostly bullied him as children, I came to understand how the three men grew from that experience in their own ways. Titch wished to amend for his youthful cruelties, Philip never really grew confidence and sympathized with the helplessness of slaves, and Erasmus cradled his power and privilege above others. The tragedy of his death and bringing Washington to witness it is one of the most horrifying scenes in the novel and it is surprising how stealthily it arrived and then was done. 

     Titch's father, James Wilde, I couldn't really wrap my finger around. There are moments of tenderness toward his kin and assistant, but for me it felt more out of character. Not that a hard man can't show tenderness, but more like I didn't know what to do with those moments. I didn't feel pity toward him, I didn't like him more for it. It felt sort of left wasted on me. Peter Haus, his mute assistant, I cared more for, and his presence and focus had been less directed than the former. I did enjoy seeing his life outside of the Arctic amongst his family in Amsterdam, and he would probably be the runner-up to the Underdog Award.

    Not to say Washington and Titch weren't likeable and didn't have any layers of complexities to their characters. I loved the duo and only wished they spent the entire novel together instead of the first half. As with losing anyone important when you're young, I deeply felt Washington's loss—someone who has lost so much in life and lost what was not only a person who cared for him but someone who showed his potential and encouraged him. I was sad when Titch disappeared in the Arctic, I grieved for him even before Washington accepted it, which made the return of Titch even more moving by the end. 

    Now I won't deny the miraculous survival seemed a bit far-fetched—because really how did Titch survive the storm and know details about the days following his disappearance—however I love stories where people disappear and then return like the prodigal son. It's a win for Washington even if the reasons that he was abandoned for are unjustified. He found his dearest friend again, a man who might have saved him from an early death years ago.

    The supporting cast of characters we meet along the way are just as colorful and driven. We can follow their paths into an entirely new story and not feel like we've simply opened a new storyline for zero purpose. Peter Haus, Tanna and Mr. Goff, Edgar Farrow, Captain Benedikt Kinast, some of the most peculiar cast of characters that made this adventure feel authentic.

    One of the main antagonists on the other hand, John Willard, was more of a plot device than a real character and was one of the weakest of the cast. I don't really have much to add on his part. 

    The end took me some time to mull over. Initial thoughts were along the lines of "that's it?" But then I seemed to be arriving back to the beginning of the circle and I found it left a stronger impression that I had thought. Washington's arrival and time in Morocco is short compared to other areas of the book, but I think that was part of the appeal. He steps into a storm in a desert much like his predecessor Titch who in a struggle of conscience abandoned his earthly ties because that decision in the Arctic was when adult Washington Black blossomed from young, naive Wash. Growing up and becoming an adult without Titch he'd been stumbling along, still attached and grieving over Titch's death. Having found him years later he was finally able to unleash his deepest, suppressed grievances and I hope become a more confident man. From this desert storm who knows what Washington will do. A shade of open-ended I thought was cleverly and visually evocative. I really really love that ending.

    The enthusiasm for the Ocean House and showcasing unusual creatures out of their element was another metaphor I appreciated. While seemingly random and maybe even awkward in its presence, the interest in marine animals seemed to be a nod for his lost friend, a man of science who valued all living things and wanted to preserve and appreciate that which exists and that is different. Add to the list another reason what makes this story more unique, and strange, and delightful: Washington's interspecies friendship with an octopus. How many people can say that?

Until Next Time,

Nicole Ciel