Matthew Rasnake

It is always with a certain amount of trepidation that I watch or read something “historical” that is set within the Star Trek universe that I love. I am not the kind of geek who lives and dies by the canon, but still I don't quite like it when writers muck about too much with things that might not quite jive with it. This is one of (the many) reasons for my concern and hesitation regarding the forthcoming Star Trek movie “prequel,” and it has ended up coloring, to a certain extent, my enjoyment of this very serviceable Trek novel.

As usual, Mr. Shatner is assisted by a couple of well-known (in Trek circles, anyway) co-writers, the Reeves-Stevenses, and it is unknown just what the extent of their involvement is. I was something of a fan of Shatner's “TekWar” series of novels, and though they were, I'm fairly certain, ghost-written, they were understood to be largely Mr. Shatner's work. My feeling is that he is the “idea man,” and that he and his co-writers work together to build the plot and storyline, while they do most of the heavy-lifting. Ultimately, it's not really all that important, as this is still a Star Trek novel, whether it's written by William Shatner or Joe Bob Davis. What Shatner does bring to this novel, presumably, is a unique perspective into the mind and motivations of the main protagonist–James T. Kirk, rebellious youth.

Overall, this is a nice little book. There's some good character interaction, a bit of peril that's not too over-the-top, and a somewhat interesting main plot that ties into a part of Kirk's past and allows for a large helping of surprisingly good exploration of that part.

I particularly enjoyed some of the interactions between Spock and his parents. I felt like they captured these characters possibly the best out of all of them. We see Spock struggling with his human side, Sarek living in denial, and Amanda trying to be understanding to both and hold the family together. It's a good dynamic and well realized. The same cannot be said for the Kirk family characterization.

But where this book falters, for me, is in those parts that become a bit uncertain when held up to the light of canon Trek. Not that anything in the book (so far as I noticed, anyway) directly conflicts with anything that was explicitly covered by the original series episodes. The trouble is more in that, had these events happened, they most certainly would have been discussed in any of several of the original episodes where they might have been relevant.

That Kirk and Spock might have been friends before the vulcan served with Captain Pike on the Enterprise was never explicitly denied, but you would think that Kirk would have been more familiar with Spock's history with that captain, had they been friends all along. My impression was always that Kirk and Spock were both assigned to the Enterprise, and that they became friends while serving together in that capacity–a notion that this novel doesn't support.

Finally, the manner in which Kirk and Spock (and their small team) manage to solve the puzzle and save the day is a bit too contrived in the details for my taste. Not to give it away, but certain things happen in those closing chapters that would have been impossible for Kirk to never talk about.

I will say that the authors (or their editorial team) did a great job researching various canon and non-canon ideas. There were lots of touches not only from established classic canon, but also from Enterprise-series canon and non-canon sources as well.

Despite my misgivings, this was an enjoyable book, and well worth the read if you're a fan of the Kirk. If you have trouble looking past some of the liberties that authors take with gaps in the canon, you might want to avoid this ‘til you get over yourself a bit. If you're new to (classic) Trek, this might be an interesting introduction to the two major characters, and to the universe as a whole.

I have to admit it... I liked Enterprise. The premise had promise, and the characters, when well-written, were engaging and enjoyable. Whole volumes could be written about just how much, and why, the show sucked so bad, and exactly who was responsible (Berman, Braga, I'm lookin' at you). When in the fourth season they brought on a new Exec and head writer, it really started to fulfill its potential. Then, of course, it was canceled and they ended with one of the single worst, most offensive and disrespectful series finales I've ever witnessed. How the actors didn't raze Paramount's studios to the ground when they left, I'll never know.

But anyway, we're talking about a book.

Right out of the gate you must understand, this is pop-fiction (see my other Trek novel reviews for my feelings ‘bout that). As a Star Trek novel, this is actually pretty good—I've read better, I've read worse. The plot is fairly well conceived and the story moves well and entertains.

The really interesting, and frankly welcomed, thing about this particular novel—compared to most other such novels—is the complete circumvention of established canon.

Not to spoil it for you (can you spoil something so terrible?) but in that travesty of a series finale, one of the main characters (arguably the best character) dies, in an incredibly lame way, for incredibly lame reasons.

So, what this novel offers to the offended fans of the show, is a complete rewrite of some of the events in that finale, transforming the steaming piles of shit into something at least a bit more palatable. Not only does the character not die, he becomes a singularly important (if mostly unsung) hero in the Trek universe.

I have to be honest though, the writing isn't all that hot. The story is good and compelling, but I often found myself cringing at awkward or redundant sentence structures. The writing was loose, and the editing seemed almost non-existent. But, we don't read Star Trek novels to be treated to shining examples of the English language.

If you're a Trek fan, dig in. If you're a disappointed Enterprise fan, you need to read this. If you're neither of those, why the hell are you bothering with this review?

Spirituality has always been a huge part of my life, despite the fact that, for quite some time, I've not been a church-going, God-fearing bible-thumper. I've also been (an amateur) student of the sciences since grade-school. If the lure of the amber screen (my first computer) hadn't been so great, and I hadn't sucked quite so badly at all forms of mathematics, I probably would have pursued a career in theoretical physics. Because of these facts, a large part of my inner journey has been involved in the reconciliation of religious faith and scientific knowledge.

God's Mechanics' intention is to share with the reader this peculiar journey, which is, to some extent, common amongst those in the science and technology fields. It asks and attempts to answer some common questions: how do we reconcile science and religion, are they really at odds with one another, what good does faith do in this world of facts and theories, and finally, why do we need a god in the first place?

The author—a Jesuit astronomer in the Vatican observatory—takes great pains to impress upon the reader that he is not a professional interviewer, a professional philosopher, a professional writer, or a professional sociologist. He's an astronomer, a scientist, and a student of the life and teachings of Jesus Christ. It is those last two, he feels, that give him any qualifications to write the book.

The first two parts of the book were based on older work that he'd done—magazine articles, and talks that he'd given. These are actually quite good, with some interesting ideas and explanations concerning the common questions specifically and the “techie” worldview in general. Reading these first few parts, I had high hopes that some serious discoveries were to be found in the later chapters as the author should certainly get closer and closer to the heart of the matter.

Instead, what I found was that the rest of the book was a study in contradictions, apologies, evasions, and finally some good old-fashioned catholic rah-rah. In the author's defense, he as much as said (several times) that he was biased, and that the problem with theorizing is that often you have to begin with the conclusions... meaning his mind was made up, so it was hard for him to talk as if it wasn't.

The interviews, as described, seemed haphazard and probably a bit too leading. Often he mentioned discussing with the current group or individual the things that previous groups or individuals had said, thereby seeding the discussion rather than allowing it to define itself. Ultimately, I felt the interviews were mostly non-revelatory, and only served to confuse the issues.

The end of the book mostly dealt with the author's own spiritual quest, which essentially reads: i was born Catholic, I never left the church, and my attempts to define my faith, my beliefs, and the spiritual needs that drove them was an exercise in recursion—I believe, therefore I think I need to believe, therefore I believe.

Despite the book's faults, it was still a worthwhile read. If you're interested in philosophy, spirituality, or the areas in which those things and science collide, the first two sections are great. If you're looking for an unbiased discussion of religion in the lives of techies, this isn't really it. Likewise, if you're looking for a guidebook for your own spiritual journey, this book may make too many assumptions to be truly helpful.

Not a lot to say about this book... Bukowski lived an interesting life, and his work seems to both celebrate and declaim his apparent depravity. His poetry itself is rather pedestrian in form, generally leaving the reader to deal with the subject-matter in a fairly raw state, without embellishment for its own sake. In other words, there is no rhyme or meter, simply words and stories that hover somewhere between poetry and prose.
If you're a fan of free-verse, this may scratch an itch. If you're a fan of personal stories of individuals who live their lives almost exclusively to service their baser natures, then likely you'll love this collection.
There are some sweeter entries, seemingly from later stages in the author's life, where he celebrates a more stable life and time with the same raw directness. Whether these serve as redemption of a sort, or merely a counterpoint is, I would say, for the reader to decide.

It was always somewhat unclear, in the works dealing with Kerouac's life and methods, just how much he was beholden to classic literature and literary theory. The most famous story, of course, was always about the benzedrine, caffeine, and nicotine fueled three-day writing binge that resulted in “On The Road.” And Kerouac himself, with his later works, and his articles and essays about writing, became a vocal proponent of “automatic” or “stream of consciousness” writing, further muddying the waters of his influences. In reading many of the biographies about Kerouac, we can get something of a feel for his abiding love of literature, and his almost reverent regard for certain writers who most inspired him.In this book, a collection of journals–in whole and in part–taking the form of a mixture of working writing journals, and personal diary-type entries, his interests and desires are made clear.Especially in regards to his first novel, Kerouac is keenly interested in creating a work of import and gravity, to be held among the works of his admired influences. He discusses the great efforts to maintain his momentum, and to edit and re-arrange his work. His fluctuating emotional connection to his own work sees him moving from the depths of despair that he will never be able to finish to his satisfaction, to the height of narcissistic belief that it will be a greater work than anything else in his time. This journal enlightens us to his struggles just to be a writer–which is a far cry from that image of Kerouac as the mindless typist cranking out words in a drug-fueled haze.Later entries shine a light on his most famous novel “On The Road,” that it rarely receives. Showing “[b:On The Road 6288 The Road Cormac McCarthy http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/21E8H3D1JSL.SL75.jpg 3355573]” as a careful work, which goes through several conceptual changes, not to mention numerous drafts.Much of these journals are also notes from the journeys that actually appear in the finished novel, so we are able to see, in a way, how Kerouac captures his raw material. These journals are a fantastic opportunity for Kerouac fans to get an internal glipmse at the reality behind the fiction we've come to love. For those who aren't fans, but who are interested in the act and art of writing–and of creating, in general–it is a window on the extraordinary struggles of a man attempting to leave his mark.

This book (the paperback version anyway), is 277 pages that feels like 150. I'm not saying that's necessarily a good thing, but it is a quick read.

The plot, such as it is, feels to me like an over simplified scaffolding from which the author was able to hang his depravity and infatuation with the absurd and perverse. The unfortunate thing is that the scenes and descriptions of deviant sexual behavior and bodily functions both human and inhuman pretty much always felt gratuitous. I say it's unfortunate because these elements are what constituted most of this short work. The smaller part of the novel was devoted to developing the two main characters, who were both, by the end of the novel fairly well defined.

Where the author had opportunities to explore the humanity of the sub-characters involved, he largely missed out. For the most part, his treatment of the perverse activities and their participants was superficial, despite being graphically descriptive. There were a few instances where he'd flesh out a sub-character and delve a bit, but for the most part, they were cardboard cutouts.

As for the main characters and their arc, he did much better. The main character, Mike, is a somewhat older, insecure but self-assured private dick, with poor luck and few friends. When the book opens, he's very much in a place where things happen to him. By the close, he has progressed to the point where he's exerting more control over his own life.
Trix, his companion, starts the book as a run-of-the-mill enlightened, semi-mystic, street-smart, liberated young woman. Her arc is smaller, leaving her at the end of the novel giving up some of her independence.

If you're a fan of Ellis, you'll undoubtedly enjoy this book, though you may end up wishing for a little less shock and a little more substance. If you're really a fan of Ellis, you may think I'm an idiot. If you're not a fan of Ellis, well... maybe you should pick up a few trades of Transmetropolitan first to get your toes wet.

Warren Ellis is a sick little monkey, and if you're not a fan of sick little monkeys, or of gratuitous (or even appropriate) filth, muck, and depravity, then you might want to think twice before picking this one up. The book is good, but not good enough that you need to subject yourself to it if you're somewhat easily offended.

Honestly, the best, most useful chapter of this book, I felt, was the final one. The rest of the book was mostly just a bunch of fairly common-sense advice which, if you've done even the barest research into personal productivity, you've probably heard at least once before. The majority of the book is devoted to personal anecdotes about clients she's worked with who are illustrative of the “styles” she divides everyone into. Breaking the book into separate sections for personal styles also functions to make only a small subset of the pages even potentially relevant to the reader. Add these two things together, and you've got the majority of the book devoted to personal anecdotes that will be irrelevant to your life leaving only the smallest minority of it actually containing advice which you've probably already read somewhere else.

All this is not to say that the book is worthless. Sometimes, even if information should be common sense, it's good to hear or see it written to drive home the point–as if, it couldn't possibly be true unless someone else has said it. Also, the bits of the book that aren't personally relevant could still function admirably as an introduction to the personal styles of others with whom you might work or live. This could give you insights into dealing or at least identifying with those whose styles differ from your own. In fact, there was at least a sub-section, if not a whole chapter devoted to working with other styles.

And back to that final chapter. This is where the whole of the book is really tied together, in learning to work within your style to bring your life into balance and focus, to make you happier and more fulfilled. This last chapter is almost like a Buddhist sutra of personal revelation, understanding, and acceptance... like seeking out the optimal you.

So, is the book worth the read? If you've done any research into personal productivity, I'd say probably not. If you're new to the idea of figuring out how and why you work a certain way, perhaps this book could be a revelation. If you're a sucker for productivity discussions or for delving into the human psyche, this might be an interesting diversion. If you're interested in becoming the best you you can be, you'd probably be better off picking up some Buddhist literature on mindfulness, and possibly getting involved in meditation.

I have long considered Star Trek novels to be a kind of “cotton-candy” literature–mostly sugar and little substance. This novel doesn't break out of this established mold.

Also included is something that has frequently annoyed me with fan-produced and professional non-canon stories–the inclusion of cross-series characters and references. Of course, I can certainly understand the compulsion, considering how all the Trek series are taking place within the same universe, and there is precedent even within the canon stories, but it seems that every time these characters are called into non-canon action, it's just so the author can say “hey, see, I know Star Trek, remember this guy?” without there being a real solid reason, and without putting the characters to appropriate use.

That said, the inclusion of Seven and Janeway in this particular storyline is certainly warranted, if poorly handled. I can't say that Seven is mischaracterized, but Janeway is very ill-served by this novel. If you're a Janeway fan, you're going to hate this novel.

As with most Trek novels, I can't really recommend it if you're not already a fan of the Trek universe, and even then I can really only recommend this novel if you're jonesing for a Trek story.

According to the preface, this book is widely considered a work relating to existentialist philosophy though the author has denied it. I can well see how this comparison is made, as the protagonist appears to be dispassionately self-involved through most of the novel, which at least gives the impression of an existentialist worldview. It seems to me, however that rather than being a study in existentialism, this is a study of a man living mostly disconnected from the people and places he nevertheless enjoys interacting with and trying to understand. He seems to be able to go through the motions of living and pass himself off on some levels as a normal thinking/feeling human being, without the burden of really feeling or caring about anything beyond his own immediate desires.

His “breakdown” at the end of the novel is somewhat revealing, but only somewhat. I have to admit that at the end of the novel, I didn't necessarily “get it,” and felt that while it was an interesting character study, it didn't really enlighten any particular societal, psychological, or philosophical objective.

I often wonder if, in attempting to glean the most from a highly-regarded work, the experience is conscribed in such a way as to make it ultimately futile. Or perhaps I'm just too dense or mired in psychological and philosophical considerations to be open enough to truly benefit.

This book came highly recommended by Tim Ferris and a podcast guest, if I remember correctly, but a few chapters in it was just not resonating with me at all, and I've abandoned it. To me it felt outdated, out-of-touch, and cynical. Perhaps I've just read too much other, similar, but better stuff. Perhaps I'm the cynical one. Either way, it didn't grab me, it didn't interest me, and it's not going to waste any more of my time.