You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
4.15 AVERAGE
4.15 AVERAGE
emotional
funny
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Uma deliciosa viagem no tempo!!!
Como sempre, temos mais um livro incrível de Connie Willis. Com um humor descontraído ela nos mostra as complexidades intrigantes do revisionismo histórico. Neste livro acompanhamos Ned, que tem uma tarefa aparentemente simples (recuperar um curioso artefato vitoriano conhecido como "toco de pássaro do bispo" para a restauração da Catedral de Coventry), mas acompanhamos uma série de desventuras tão hilárias quanto instigantes.
Connie Willis está absurdamente cômica neste livro, repleta de personagens excêntricos, brincadeiras espirituosas e uma série de situações improváveis que surgem quando o passado e o futuro colidem. Mas também nos mostra os percalços de viajantes do tempo ressaltando uma noção simples, porém poderosa: mesmo a menor interferência na história pode resultar em consequências significativas, às vezes catastróficas. Esse equilíbrio entre detalhes históricos rigorosamente traçados e os absurdos da burocracia na viagem no tempo acrescenta profundidade magnífica ao livro.
É uma mistura magistral de humor, intriga histórica e as peculiaridades da viagem no tempo.
Como sempre, temos mais um livro incrível de Connie Willis. Com um humor descontraído ela nos mostra as complexidades intrigantes do revisionismo histórico. Neste livro acompanhamos Ned, que tem uma tarefa aparentemente simples (recuperar um curioso artefato vitoriano conhecido como "toco de pássaro do bispo" para a restauração da Catedral de Coventry), mas acompanhamos uma série de desventuras tão hilárias quanto instigantes.
Connie Willis está absurdamente cômica neste livro, repleta de personagens excêntricos, brincadeiras espirituosas e uma série de situações improváveis que surgem quando o passado e o futuro colidem. Mas também nos mostra os percalços de viajantes do tempo ressaltando uma noção simples, porém poderosa: mesmo a menor interferência na história pode resultar em consequências significativas, às vezes catastróficas. Esse equilíbrio entre detalhes históricos rigorosamente traçados e os absurdos da burocracia na viagem no tempo acrescenta profundidade magnífica ao livro.
É uma mistura magistral de humor, intriga histórica e as peculiaridades da viagem no tempo.
A time travel farce, where trying to fix one mistake in Victorian England leads to a cascade of other mistakes - lots of fun! Read my full review at:
http://bookbybook.blogspot.com/2017/01/fiction-review-to-say-nothing-of-dog.html
http://bookbybook.blogspot.com/2017/01/fiction-review-to-say-nothing-of-dog.html
Anyone put off by the first book's B plot (a frustratingly meandering and anachronistic game of phone tag) should set their skepticism aside and give this one a shot: To Say Nothing of the Dog delivers an endearing cast of characters and a cleverly twisting and humorous plot that is absolutely worth a read. One can't help but wonder if Willis wrote amidst rewatches of Jeeves and Wooster or A Bit of Fry and Laurie as the protagonist and his 19th Century fast friend bear some resemblance to the duo.
Unfortunately, a number of meandering digressions on historical happenstance do drag the narrative down and brought what might have been a 5-star rating to a 4-, but just barely.
Unfortunately, a number of meandering digressions on historical happenstance do drag the narrative down and brought what might have been a 5-star rating to a 4-, but just barely.
Wait, wait, wait. I just read Blackout and apparently a historian (I don't care, I still like a historian because I pronounce the H in historian) can't be in multiple places at the same time (which makes sense). But how did wotsername with the stump go back multiple times to the same place and get so much stuff out of the cathedral, then? Am I crazy?
Witty, wise, endearing, and very, very British science-fiction. (Connie Willis is not actually British; clearly she watched way too much Public Television as a child.)
It's a mystery. It's a romance. It's a Victorian-era social drama. Above all that, it is a clever time-travel science fiction novel. (Note: the story explores the implications of time travel, not the science.) It is filled with absolutely delightful characters (I pretty much want Colonel Merring and Cyril in all of my books) and the prose is far, far more refined than what I am used to reading in genre.
Oh, did I mention it was funny? It's funny. Really, really funny.
Problems? There are three or four scenes that are precisely twice as long as they should be. Every so often, as she presents one of her Faulty-Towers style "characters running about all over and just missing their goal" scenes, she just goes nuts and uses so many repetitive descriptions of running around that I wanted to stop reading. Pages upon pages of exactly the same scene, which should have been two pages long. The reader gets frustrated and wants to just skip over the whole chapter. And I'm a very patient reader.
Unexpected Joys? I enjoyed figuring out the mystery. She provides just enough clever, tiny clues to see most of the solution if you pay close attention, but not enough to be CERTAIN. Like any good mystery writer, she also throws in red herrings and enough clever interlocking sub-plots that it doesn't matter if you figure out the main mystery. You'll still have a ton of fun.
Oh: The romance sub-plot is great. I wanted 18% more of it, frankly. Still, she unrolls it with remarkable restraint. Very nice.
A tiny and irrelevant part of the plot that was pulled off marvelously: The main character reveals some of his character traits through subtle actions. For example, he is deeply fond of animals, but he never says this or describes it directly. You just sort of FEEL that love, by his actions, even as he is apparently tormented by them. It just made me feel good.
There were also some extraordinary clever things that were only barely hinted at. You are never exactly told why, for example, the main character goes to the Middle Ages. But if you are a very close and clever reader, and willing to use your imagination, you'll get it. It's like a tiny gift to the close reader. Again: remarkable restraint.
In conclusion: Cut 30% of three specific scenes, and you'd very nearly have the perfect book!
Note: Yes, I know about Three Men in a Boat. You don't have to know anything about that book or any other book to love this one. But, if you want the full effect, before reading this book you could go read Forster's "A Room with a View" (or similar), "Death on the Nile" (or any of two or three other Christies), and "Three Men in a Boat", throw in a few seasons of Doctor Who, and THEN read this book.
But who has time for all that?
It's a mystery. It's a romance. It's a Victorian-era social drama. Above all that, it is a clever time-travel science fiction novel. (Note: the story explores the implications of time travel, not the science.) It is filled with absolutely delightful characters (I pretty much want Colonel Merring and Cyril in all of my books) and the prose is far, far more refined than what I am used to reading in genre.
Oh, did I mention it was funny? It's funny. Really, really funny.
Problems? There are three or four scenes that are precisely twice as long as they should be. Every so often, as she presents one of her Faulty-Towers style "characters running about all over and just missing their goal" scenes, she just goes nuts and uses so many repetitive descriptions of running around that I wanted to stop reading. Pages upon pages of exactly the same scene, which should have been two pages long. The reader gets frustrated and wants to just skip over the whole chapter. And I'm a very patient reader.
Unexpected Joys? I enjoyed figuring out the mystery. She provides just enough clever, tiny clues to see most of the solution if you pay close attention, but not enough to be CERTAIN. Like any good mystery writer, she also throws in red herrings and enough clever interlocking sub-plots that it doesn't matter if you figure out the main mystery. You'll still have a ton of fun.
Oh: The romance sub-plot is great. I wanted 18% more of it, frankly. Still, she unrolls it with remarkable restraint. Very nice.
A tiny and irrelevant part of the plot that was pulled off marvelously: The main character reveals some of his character traits through subtle actions. For example, he is deeply fond of animals, but he never says this or describes it directly. You just sort of FEEL that love, by his actions, even as he is apparently tormented by them. It just made me feel good.
There were also some extraordinary clever things that were only barely hinted at. You are never exactly told why, for example, the main character goes to the Middle Ages. But if you are a very close and clever reader, and willing to use your imagination, you'll get it. It's like a tiny gift to the close reader. Again: remarkable restraint.
In conclusion: Cut 30% of three specific scenes, and you'd very nearly have the perfect book!
Note: Yes, I know about Three Men in a Boat. You don't have to know anything about that book or any other book to love this one. But, if you want the full effect, before reading this book you could go read Forster's "A Room with a View" (or similar), "Death on the Nile" (or any of two or three other Christies), and "Three Men in a Boat", throw in a few seasons of Doctor Who, and THEN read this book.
But who has time for all that?
Neargh. I couldn't wait for this to end.
I discovered Connie Willis long ago, via her Hugo/Nebula winner, Doomsday Book, which is a great read. It's rich in detail, with a good balance of humor and pathos, and a tantalizing glimpse both into the deep past (14th century, Black Plague-ravaged Oxford) and into the near future (21st century, slightly high-tech Oxford). Unfortunately, Willis did have a tendency towards flat characterizations and one-note plotting - something which you don't really notice in Doomsday, since the parallel of plague-ridden Oxfords was compelling enough. But you really, really notice it in this. (And it makes me worried about All Clear, despite the Hugo/Nebula wins, since I've seen these same criticisms leveled at her before.)
From the same Oxfordiverse, here we follow a different batch of time-traveling historians, this time a group scrambling to reconstruct the WW2-destroyed Coventry Cathedral. The protagonist, Ned Henry, gets sent to Victorian era Oxford to (1) recover from his pretty severe case of time-lag (kind of like existential jet lag), and (2) do the usual Time Travel Plot Device - that is, address an "incongruity" in the fabric of time-space before the entire universe collapses or multiple timelines develop and the Nazis end up winning.
The book is an examination of that darling of 1990s pop science: chaos theory. Cue Dr. Malcolm. It's also a bit about historiography, and free will vs. Fate. And that's all fine and well and interesting. But Willis, unfortunately, ruins everyyyything by turning it into a madcap, Victorian farce that is, oh my Lord, not funny at all. Ever. I can get what she's going for: that old fashioned comedy of manners stuff where doors open and close a lot, there are lots of missed calls and close calls, and everything could probably be resolved if just one character explained The Problem to everyone in about ten minutes. That stuff can sometimes be funny, if the dialogue's good enough - though it does try my patience even then.
But in this book! Oh dear. Every character is a flat caricature who engages in broad comedy, mostly relating to either One Principal Behavior (e.g. American is bossy, loud, and American! Oxford don is eccentric and spouts Latin!) or a semi-offensive "funny" accent (e.g. "Yes, sorr!" the Irish maid says). The same gags are endlessly repeated (e.g. Ned is oh, so tired - but - ho ho! - his sleep is interrupted again; or, Cyril the Dog is anthropomorphized and funny!). And - worst of all - I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE CATHEDRAL. OR THE BIRD STUMP. OR WHO MARRIES WHO. I also don't care for the uber-twee Anglogasm setting, full of dreadfully English things and words and people. Or the weird sexism, where the female characters are divided between (1) objectified, or (2) completely ridiculous (giggly, or shrewish, or just stupid).
You let me down, S.F. Masterworks series!
I discovered Connie Willis long ago, via her Hugo/Nebula winner, Doomsday Book, which is a great read. It's rich in detail, with a good balance of humor and pathos, and a tantalizing glimpse both into the deep past (14th century, Black Plague-ravaged Oxford) and into the near future (21st century, slightly high-tech Oxford). Unfortunately, Willis did have a tendency towards flat characterizations and one-note plotting - something which you don't really notice in Doomsday, since the parallel of plague-ridden Oxfords was compelling enough. But you really, really notice it in this. (And it makes me worried about All Clear, despite the Hugo/Nebula wins, since I've seen these same criticisms leveled at her before.)
From the same Oxfordiverse, here we follow a different batch of time-traveling historians, this time a group scrambling to reconstruct the WW2-destroyed Coventry Cathedral. The protagonist, Ned Henry, gets sent to Victorian era Oxford to (1) recover from his pretty severe case of time-lag (kind of like existential jet lag), and (2) do the usual Time Travel Plot Device - that is, address an "incongruity" in the fabric of time-space before the entire universe collapses or multiple timelines develop and the Nazis end up winning.
The book is an examination of that darling of 1990s pop science: chaos theory. Cue Dr. Malcolm. It's also a bit about historiography, and free will vs. Fate. And that's all fine and well and interesting. But Willis, unfortunately, ruins everyyyything by turning it into a madcap, Victorian farce that is, oh my Lord, not funny at all. Ever. I can get what she's going for: that old fashioned comedy of manners stuff where doors open and close a lot, there are lots of missed calls and close calls, and everything could probably be resolved if just one character explained The Problem to everyone in about ten minutes. That stuff can sometimes be funny, if the dialogue's good enough - though it does try my patience even then.
But in this book! Oh dear. Every character is a flat caricature who engages in broad comedy, mostly relating to either One Principal Behavior (e.g. American is bossy, loud, and American! Oxford don is eccentric and spouts Latin!) or a semi-offensive "funny" accent (e.g. "Yes, sorr!" the Irish maid says). The same gags are endlessly repeated (e.g. Ned is oh, so tired - but - ho ho! - his sleep is interrupted again; or, Cyril the Dog is anthropomorphized and funny!). And - worst of all - I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE CATHEDRAL. OR THE BIRD STUMP. OR WHO MARRIES WHO. I also don't care for the uber-twee Anglogasm setting, full of dreadfully English things and words and people. Or the weird sexism, where the female characters are divided between (1) objectified, or (2) completely ridiculous (giggly, or shrewish, or just stupid).
You let me down, S.F. Masterworks series!
What a wildly different tone than Fallout / All Clear.
Fun, witty, twitsty, yet it all works out (as well as any time travel story really can.)
A delightful romp.
Fun, witty, twitsty, yet it all works out (as well as any time travel story really can.)
A delightful romp.
adventurous
funny
hopeful
inspiring
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Thought I could get away with reading the sequel first. I could not.
After I read Doomsday Book a couple of years ago, a bunch of people told me that this one was much lighter in tone, and funny, but I didn't realize it would be an almost straight up farce at points.
To Say Nothing of the Dog takes place two years after the events of Doomsday Book, but either book can be read on its own without regard for the other. Oxford historian Mr. Dunworthy is the only character of any note who plays a role in both books. But whereas in that book, the focus is on a terrible plague (which they call the Pandemic in this book), this one is focused on the seemingly impossible quest for an inscrutable historical object, the bishop's bird stump. (I had no idea what the hell a bird stump was, either, don't worry about it.)
In the year 2057, time travel has long been discovered, and because it cannot be used to plunder history of valuable items and thus cannot be used to make money, it has been relegated for the use of historians only. The time-traveling historians of Oxford have lately been co-opted by the will of a wealthy donor named Lady Schrapnell who has put all the powers of her considerable personality into rebuilding the Coventry Chapel that was destroyed in 1940 during an air raid, and she intends to rebuild it in exact detail, right down the bishop's bird stump, which no one can find.
Enter Ned Henry, who we first meet as he's suffering from the worst case of time lag anyone has ever seen (symptoms include difficulty distinguishing sounds, a tendency to maudlin-sentimentality, fatigue and disorientation). Lady Schrapnell has been sending him on drop after drop going to historical jumble sales, all in search of the bishop's bird stump. He's finally sent back to 1888 supposedly to recover for two weeks where she can't find him, but really he's also on a mission to correct a time incongruity. Only, he's so befuddled by time lag when he's given the mission, he has no idea what's going on, and he ends up blundering from one encounter to the next.
All that blundering about is the reason it took me so long to get into the book. Ned was confused and befuddled, and so was I. But then as it went along and I got the flow of it (and got more in the mood for the ridiculous comedy of manners, farcical nature of it) I really did start to enjoy myself. Especially when Verity (another time-traveler), Princess Arjumand (a cat), and Terence and Cyril (a contemporary Oxford undergrad and his intense bulldog) enter the picture.
I'm really glad I stuck with this book, and will definitely be reading the next two books in the series (a duology, also safe to read without reading the first two). What I really want now, pretty badly, is a filmed version of this book. I would loooove to see befuddled Ned wandering around Victorian Oxford like a dum dum, and all the other stuff that happens afterwords (including a little romance).
To Say Nothing of the Dog takes place two years after the events of Doomsday Book, but either book can be read on its own without regard for the other. Oxford historian Mr. Dunworthy is the only character of any note who plays a role in both books. But whereas in that book, the focus is on a terrible plague (which they call the Pandemic in this book), this one is focused on the seemingly impossible quest for an inscrutable historical object, the bishop's bird stump. (I had no idea what the hell a bird stump was, either, don't worry about it.)
In the year 2057, time travel has long been discovered, and because it cannot be used to plunder history of valuable items and thus cannot be used to make money, it has been relegated for the use of historians only. The time-traveling historians of Oxford have lately been co-opted by the will of a wealthy donor named Lady Schrapnell who has put all the powers of her considerable personality into rebuilding the Coventry Chapel that was destroyed in 1940 during an air raid, and she intends to rebuild it in exact detail, right down the bishop's bird stump, which no one can find.
Enter Ned Henry, who we first meet as he's suffering from the worst case of time lag anyone has ever seen (symptoms include difficulty distinguishing sounds, a tendency to maudlin-sentimentality, fatigue and disorientation). Lady Schrapnell has been sending him on drop after drop going to historical jumble sales, all in search of the bishop's bird stump. He's finally sent back to 1888 supposedly to recover for two weeks where she can't find him, but really he's also on a mission to correct a time incongruity. Only, he's so befuddled by time lag when he's given the mission, he has no idea what's going on, and he ends up blundering from one encounter to the next.
All that blundering about is the reason it took me so long to get into the book. Ned was confused and befuddled, and so was I. But then as it went along and I got the flow of it (and got more in the mood for the ridiculous comedy of manners, farcical nature of it) I really did start to enjoy myself. Especially when Verity (another time-traveler), Princess Arjumand (a cat), and Terence and Cyril (a contemporary Oxford undergrad and his intense bulldog) enter the picture.
I'm really glad I stuck with this book, and will definitely be reading the next two books in the series (a duology, also safe to read without reading the first two). What I really want now, pretty badly, is a filmed version of this book. I would loooove to see befuddled Ned wandering around Victorian Oxford like a dum dum, and all the other stuff that happens afterwords (including a little romance).