Jason Paterson

I've had a passing interest in Napoleon since I was a young man, but only in the last handful of years has that interest developed into something more like an enthusiasm for learning about this charismatic leader, the French Revolution, and the various Napoleonic Wars.

Napoleon Bonaparte lived an adventure filled and full life, even having died young at age 52. He was at once a brilliant tactician (having only lost 7 out of the 60 battles he was in), a superb statesman (introducing legislation and policies that would shape France for generations to come), and occasionally a monster.

This book dives deep into his early years on Corsica, and tracks his meteoric rise through the ranks from a young Lieutenant to the Emperor of the Republic of France. It does a good job of providing a birds eye view of the major battles, and perhaps most importantly paints a vivid picture of the man - his habits, his likes and dislikes, and his demeanour. It talks about the card games he liked to play, the way he drank his coffee, his morning habits, and how long he slept. All of this helps paint a picture of the man.

I could easily read this again and probably absorb just as much as I did the first time around, and I just might. Terrific book.

A great introductory look at the HBC, how they started, and the major players throughout their history. Andra-Warner does a good job at proceeding through the beats without straggling for too long on details - which is what I was looking for as a first glimpse into this corner of history. I'll be diving in to the history deeper with Stephen Bown's book “The Company” and by examining some of the journals and papers cited in this book.

A fascinating 5th century reference book with plenty of interesting information regarding how the Romans waged war and kept their military organized and trained.

An interesting study of tabletop wargaming design for educational and recreational purposes by someone who is intimately familiar with the subject matter, having designed many games himself and taught classes on the subject. It's not surprising that the book, therefore, reads largely like an academic textbook. It was a little surprising that it also feels a little self-absorbed at times, with references to Sabin's own work, the work of his students, etc. It's a testament, therefore, to how good the rest of the book is and how clearly the ideas are laid out. that I could overlook the scattered navel gazing moments. Sabin uses the first two parts to he book to explain the systems and mechanics of wargaming, detailing why he believes this approach or that works best. It may feel remedial to some gamers, but I think this is where the book shines. Do we weigh down the experience with detailed chrome to enhance the accuracy of the simulation, or do we abstract or streamline parts to make the experience more enjoyable or digestable? His third part is filled with examples of play. I recommend this book to anyone who has any kind of interest in wargaming or simulation gaming, but it's difficult to recommend to anyone outside that small circle.

Wow - a wonderful exploration of the history of the crossbow. Thoroughly researched and well thought out, I flew through this book in no time, and learned a lot along the way. Ellis-Gorman does a nice job explaining all the various iterations of the device and how they differ mechanically in the first few chapters, and then goes on to talk about the major historical occurrences. There's a lot of postulating going on. Much of the history the book raises cannot be verified or known for sure, and we're reminded regularly that “this is just another mystery that will likely remain unsolved” or “more study is required”, and while any history book worth it's salt is bound to ask more questions than it answers, it seems like the author is reminding us of this more regularly than necessary.

It's a small criticism, since I found this book so engaging. I was especially fascinated by the section on the West African crossbow, and by the hunting/trap crossbows.

I first became familiar with the Battle of Agincourt through Shakespeare's “Henry V”. Not the play from which the above quote is pulled, but the 1989 film with Kenneth Branagh – featuring his moving rendition of that Saint Crispin's Day speech. To this day, if I need to get pumped up for something (a test, a new job, etc) I'll put on that scene. I defy anyone to not be stirred by Branagh's inspiring, pugnacious delivery. That said, Shakespeare's account of Agincourt in the play is circumstantial. He doesn't describe the battle in any way, but talks about the events leading up to it and after it.

The more recent film “The King” also utilizes Shakespeare as source material, but then tries to pry in the pitched battle itself. It's well done technically, though I feel it fails to properly depict the sheer scope of the Battle of Agincourt. The battle in “The King” feels like a romper-stomper featuring a few hundred men at arms and archers, where the actual battle pitted thousands against one another, and included at least 3000-5000 English archers (depending on the estimates you believe). It's those estimates that largely feature as the subject in today's book review.

Anne Curry's 1415 Agincourt, A New History digs deep into those numbers, utilizing a variety of chronicles and first hand accounts, including the Gesta Henrici Quinti, Liber Metricus, Titus Livius, the Pseudo-Elmham, the Brut, the Religieux, and others. For an event that took place over 600 years ago, there's a surprising amount of information about it. That said, the information is sometimes contradictory (as many historical chronicles tend to be). Maybe the French account differs from English account. Perhaps the author was viewing the battle from the rear where they couldn't see so well, or maybe they were incited to exaggerate the facts in order to make one side or the other appear more valiant.

Curry pours over these accounts and does her best to distill them, to compare them to one another, and ultimately to pull out a likely truth. Some of these truths are almost certain, as various chroniclers might describe the same thing. Others are more obscured by time and the vagaries of the available accounts, so we're left asking questions or making assumptions.

1415 Agincourt, A New History is a comprehensive analysis of the battle and not really a narrative of it. The author covers the political events leading up to Henry's campaign in Normandy, dives into the Siege of Harfleur, and even dissects the activities that took place post-Agincourt – but she does so employing a scholarly approach. Curry does a good job of reaching her conclusions and that brings them real tangible credibility, but this sometimes makes for a more academic and ponderous read. I started this book in March of 2022 and only completed it in December. It took Henry less time to complete his whole campaign in France and sail back to England. There is a lot of data that's examined, and it sometimes feels like the narrative is only a loose framework binding that data together.

With that said, it's also a fascinating and rewarding read for those willing to go once more unto the breach. The examination of the battle itself (which starts at about the halfway mark of this book) dives deep into the geography of the place, the timing of events, the logistics of how the English archers and their long-bows managed to sway the odds, and how the French seemed powerless to stop it. All of this is examined closely at a technical level – and I couldn't get enough.

This is a brilliant, vivid account of the Battle Of Crécy using research done by the author and his colleague Kelly DeVries, which contradict a few of the long held understandings of that affair - including the site of the battle itself.

Coming at these books as someone who enjoyed D&D as a kid, and whose exposure to Lord Of The Rings has (until now) been almost entirely conjured from the Jackson and Bakshi films, I was amazed by how closely I recognized the world and characters of The Fellowship Of The Ring in the novel. Everything felt familiar. With The Two Towers, however, even though I could recognize many of the core events, I felt the world was much more lush and the characters were much more nuanced than I had in mind. This is where the narrative element of the written word upends the visual medium, more so than with the first book. The other note I have is in regards to the language used by Tolkien, which is so wonderfully delicate and poetic. It really feels anachronistic to the 30's and 40's era it rose up from. Now onward, to The Return Of The King!

Finished my very first reading of The Lord Of The Rings this week. I phrase it this way, because when it ended, I knew I wanted to turn right back around and read it again - so I feel like I'll come back to it in a few years. I loved this third book, and felt like it was maybe the noteworthy in terms of “new experience” for me, since the films deviate in many places from this one. Sam's more central role within the story here was delightful, and the entire post-Mordor return trip home (and dealing with what had happened there) was a nice way to close the narrative.

For anyone that's interested in the audiobook experience, narrator Robert Inglis did a fantastic job, and there's a good reason they are so revered. In the 1970s and 80s, Inglis wrote, produced and acted in one-man stage dramatisations of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. These performances have been described as “award winning”, and his book readings reflect this passion. I'm convinced Jackson's films took some notes from his reading. Though a more standard reading than a dramatic production, Inglis filled every character's voice with unique personality and consistency, and his singing of the songs (which both he and the producer take credit for writing the melodies to) was absolutely charming.

Arthur C. Clarke was in his early 40's when he wrote A Fall Of Moondust. It was one of his first novels. I've never found Clarke's prose particularly elegant, but it certainly became more nuanced over time. Earlier work, like Moondust, is more mechanical and workman-like. It's got a raw quality to it. This is perhaps most evident when he tries to illustrate characters with detail, always seemingly written with a perfunctory attitude. The text is also riddled with the sexism of a middle aged white man in the 1960's, but Clarke tries to be as progressive as he can. Where the book really shines is in the technical rumination of the rescue effort.

Clarke was a game-changer with his early books, being one of the first to bring “real science” into science-fiction. Though the soviets had landed an object on the moon a couple years prior, it would be a further 8 years before the first human beings walked on the moon - so data was scarce. This is evidenced by the imagining of “seas” of dust. While there was plenty of fine regolith covering the moon, it didn't accumulate more than a few inches, or behave exactly as Clarke had surmised. Still, when his writing in Moondust focuses on the applied physics of the sunken Serene, it's highly engaging and entertaining in the same way Andy Weir's “The Martian” was. The reader might not be an engineer or a physicist, but most of us will understand the basic principles put forth by the writer, and that attention to technical detail mixed with the overarching survival story is what drives this book to greatness, and got it nominated for the Hugo award.

A good, entertaining read. It was likely hard for Weir to follow up a success like The Martian, but Artemis does a good job. It's not as focused a story. Where The Martian was a singular plotline driving everything (ie. Get off this planet.) Artemis has more intrigue and subtlety. The main character is a smuggler (who happens to know a lot about engineering), and while she is engaging and interesting, the rest of the cast feel very one dimensional. Still, it's a quick read... with lots of tense moments driven by (as was The Martian) an understanding of science.

Neil Gaiman has encountered the Norse gods before - using them in past works... but this is the first time he's been able to really indulge in their sagas. The book is arranged as a collection of short stories, covering various well known myths. Odin, Thor, Loki, Tyr, Frigg, Balder... they're all here, but their legends, while mostly intact, are embellished with Gaiman's unique voice and particular flourishes. Gaiman's gods often sound like school children, bickering over who gets to do what on the playground, but in this case, the playground is typically filled with frost giants or massive sun sized wolves. The book starts with a rather dense introductory chapter, but then flows into a set of short stories that are mostly gems. Finally, things escalate as you near the end of the book; as you approach Ragnarok... and beyond.

Wow. What a terrific written account of the ill-fated Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition, and of the character of Ernest Shackleton and his crew. The name of the ship, “Endurance”, came from Shackleton's family motto Fortitudine vincimus (“By endurance we conquer”), but it was the ideal name for the vessel, which fought so hard against the crushing ice floes before ultimately succumbing and sinking to the bottom of the Weddell Sea. There were several major stages of the Shackleton expedition's escape from certain death - beginning with the loss of their ship. From there, they were cast adrift on various ice floes for months, before they were able to launch their lifeboats. This began the arduous sea voyage to the desolate Elephant Island. Once there, the group was as safe as they could be, and Shackleton took five others with him on board the best of the lifeboats, the James Caird, to sail to South Georgia Island - 1,200km's away. Using nothing more than a sextant, a compass, and some charts, with occupants that were tired, starving, freezing, wet, and suffering all manner of maladies, they found South Georgia - and the rest is history.

Lansing pulls from a variety of sources, and tells a fair and balanced narrative of the expedition. Brilliantly written, filled with excitement and tension, Endurance tells the most incredible survival story of the greatest antarctic explorer who ever lived.

An excellent novella, even though I had some idea of where it was going. This is partly because of when I read it. I wish I had read this right between 6 ad 7... it would have certainly have created a much different experience with book 7 and a huge difference on book 8. Regardless, one of the best!

International trade and logistics is something that's always fascinated me. Partly because my father was involved with sailing during the break-bulk era, mostly on the great lakes. Partly it's because I grew up in an era after manufacturing had mostly moved overseas. So, I've always been interested in shipping containers, and the impact they had on the world. This book helps give me context to that transition.

The book is a fascinating glimpse at how all this started in the 1960's, and the growing pains needed to bring the rest of the world onboard with the idea. Like most technological and ideological revolutions, it was fought by certain entrenched powers (existing shipping companies, railroads, truckers, unions) but when this experiment in optimization resulted in massive cost and time savings, there was no stopping it. As a result, our entire world changed, and Levinson walks us through just what made that possible. The book does a great job exploring the history of this transformation, even while getting occasionally bogged down with brief cost comparisons or standards analysis. I had no idea who Malcolm McLean was or how he ushered in this new era, but now, more than ever, I believe Containerization may have been one of the biggest advancements of the 20th century.

The first chapter of Tim O'Brien's “The Things They Carried” is riveting - putting some hard perspective on the front-end of a very personal set of short stories that are otherwise difficult to explain using hard facts. The novel isn't autobiographical but it is written as though it were non-fiction, drawing inspiration from the authors personal experiences in Vietnam. These are deep and metaphysical journeys into the souls of the soldiers involved. This isn't a novel about the war, but more about what war does to human beings. One of my favourite chapters takes place well before the war, as draft dodger struggles with his decision to skip the border to Canada. Not every chapter is quite this engaging, but overall there's a wonderful arc to this book, and O'Brien has a wonderful way of talking about the violence of war without descending into cliche or melodrama.

I've wanted to read Foundation for years. I had seen it mentioned in countless “best of” sci-fi lists, but reading it now, in 2018, I found myself just a little disappointed. I'm not sure why the reverie for this - one of Asimov's most popular works. The story is intriguing, driven forward by the ghost of Hari Seldon, a mathematician who develops a new form of prescience called “psychohistory”. Using this prescience (a kind of twist on “big data analytics”) he maps out the fall of a 12,000 year old Galactic Empire, and the rise of a new order of scientists who will reduce the 30,000 year dark ages to come down to 1,000 years of strife.

There are interesting sentiments that help propel this story. Salvor Hardin's statement that “violence is the last refuge of the incompetent,” is intriguing and fashionable in today's political atmosphere. I like the use of “Space!” as an expletive. I'm highly captivated by the concept of psychohistory to guide a civilization along a path of millenia.

...but the telling of the tale is very dull. The narrative is overbearingly cliche and the dialogue is tired and dated. Much of the book consists of two people discussing the hijinks that are transpiring on some other planet, or how to avoid them.

Great concept here. Poor to moderate execution. Sorry, Mr. Asimov.

[book:Caliban's War 12591698] continues the story of Captain Jim Holden and the crew of the Rocinante after the events on the Eros space station brought the various factions of the solar system to the brink of war. Time has passed, and the crew is running odd jobs for the OPA. Meanwhile, we are introduced to three new characters. There's a tough Mars Marine named Bobbie, a grieving botanist from Ganymede named Prax, and a foul mouthed, cunning politician from Earth named Chrisjen Avasarala. The story progresses nicely in Caliban's War. We get more insight into some of the crew. Prax has a compelling story. Bobbie is potentially an interesting character, though she often feels out of place and doesn't get much of a chance to shine... but she's set up nicely for future books. Avasarala is a favourite here, slickly navigating through the politics of the ongoing protomolecule plot as Venus is closely being watched. Pacing is about the same as Leviathan Wakes, starting with some slow intrigue build-up, and exploding into fantastic blossoms of action in the second half.

Hard to believe the series is done, and I've been putting off writing my review so I could have some time to digest it. What did I think of Leviathan Falls? I think it was terrific. In terms of the series as a whole, I think this book caps off what is likely my favourite of the “trilogies”, and I like the arc that the three trilogies created together. I liked the new character of Tanaka, and the culmination of the characters of Jim, Amos, Alex, and Naomi. While I had kind of anticipated the large beats this book might take in terms of it's plot, it was wonderfully written - in an exciting and stirring way. Even if you anticipate the twists and turns - it's the details that make The Expanse really pop. Even out in the orbit of some planet on the other side of the galaxy, or inside the weird ring space, the writers have been terrific at making characters and situations relatable - and I think that's a hallmark of The Expanse. This isn't a story about heroic archetypes - it's a story about regular blue collar folks caught up in plans much larger than they are - and the lengths to which they are willing to go. I'm going to miss my friends on board The Rocinante - but I'm eager to see what James SA Corey has in store for the future, assuming Ty and Daniel decide to work together again. Cheers, beltalowdas!

I came to The Expanse fairly late - jumping in when five books were already published. That meant I got to binge-read those five, and by the time I was done, the sixth had been published as well. That worked out nicely, because Books 1-3 and 4-6 kind of form little “chapters” in the intended 9 part Expanse saga. With Book #7 and #8, I'm now feel like I'm reading them “real time”, alongside everyone else - which is kind of exhilarating. This is especially true because so far, Books #7 and #8 have been my favourite of the series. The arc from Book #1 to Book #7 is impressive. Looking back through the series feels like someone who has travelled the world reminiscing about their hometown. The Expanse has gone from a cozy three faction solar system to exploring literally thousands of habitable worlds. Book #7 introduced us to an older Rocinante crew, living in a new universe filled with people who are trying their best to adapt. This culminated in Laconia, one of those 1,300 systems, making a play for Empire... with the aid of protomolecular science.

(some mild spoilers ahead)

Book #8, the penultimate in the series, continues after what feels like a few years beyond the events of Book #7. Chrisjen Aversarala is dead. James Holden is captured and living on Laconia. Naomi Nagata is spending her days in a self imposed exile within a shipping container, doing her best to help aid a resistance movement. Amos is missing. Bobby and Alex spearhead a crew on a captured Laconian warship. Elvi Okoye is working with the Laconians to study the 1,300 systems. Between all their stories is Theresa, the daughter of Laconian High Consul Winston Duarte, who is being groomed for leadership, and perhaps something more sinister.

I loved the architecture of the story. Though every character is running within their own narrative, they all felt very connected, and the story of the protomolecule (and the “Romans”) seems to be culminating into something large for the next book. I'm excited to see where the crew of the Rocinante end up, even if I'm a bit sad that the end of their voyage is near.

After what I considered the most lacklustre entry in The Expanse series (Babylon's Ashes) I was thoroughly surprised and delighted by the 7th book, Persepolis Rising. Jumping ahead in time (significantly) the story begins by dragging the slightly older crew of the Rocinante back into the center of a new conspiracy that has been brewing in secret for a long time. The story takes some unexpected turns, and sets up what feels like a potentially wonderful and ambitious arc to take us toward the end of the series. If books #8 and #9 are anything like #7, we're in for a fine ride.

I guess I've grown cynical and dubious in my older age. I really wanted to enjoy Peter Wohlleben's tale of trees that communicate, feel, think, adapt, and more... but he tends to use really flowery language without providing any kind of scientific citations, and for lofty claims such as these, I feel a need for more citations.

I'm not sure if I was just starting to get Expanse burnout when I got to Book #6, but I restarted it a couple times and had a really hard time getting through it on each attempt. The writing is expectedly polished, as always, but the plotlines seem to languish until brief moments of punctuation, and I would get through whole chapters not understanding why we were spending time on certain characters and their stories. In the end, BA was worth it. The ongoing story comes to a climactic conclusion and sets up a new stage of the greater Expanse narrative. I finished just a week or two after the release of book #7, Persepolis Rising, which has already jump-started my imagination in the first few chapters.

A beautifully rendered tale of Robin Hood pieced together from a variety of folk poems and ballads, updated from Olde English, and weaved into a single coherent narrative. Though there is no one “canonical” text for Robin Hood, I feel like this one does justice to the spirit of the story by utilizing these original sources and not (seemingly) straying too far from them. As a result, each chapter reads like a tiny adventure on its own, roughly tied together with the chapter in front and behind. This made it an easy book to read, as there was little fear you might lose a thread.

My experience with Robin Hood is almost entirely formed by Hollywood and Disney. Though there is no “canonical” text for the story, I walked away from Lancelyn Green's novel feeling as though I learned something new about the legend of Robin Hood. Is there any basis in truth for these tales? History.com writes “English legal records suggest that, as early as the 13th century, Robehod, Rabunhod and other variations had become common epithets for criminals. But what had inspired these nicknames: a fictional tale, an infamous bandit or an amalgam of both?”

We're unlikely to ever know, but this is part of the mystery that makes Robin Hood so enticing, and has allowed for so many interpretations (for good or for bad). Going back to something closer to the original tales, however, was a pleasant and enlightening escape.

The Expanse series is astonishingly good science fiction. Corey paints a future that depicts humanity having ventured out deep into our solar system, but it's a fractured future, where the inhabitants of Earth, Mars, and the Asteroid Belt (“Belters”) find themselves having less and less in common. Ships and stations are cramped, dark, unfriendly places, and these are where much of the book is set.

This story is written primarily from the perspective of Belters, who feel forgotten and abused by the inner planets. It's here that the hunt for missing heiress Juliette Andromeda Mao begins, initiating a series of events that bring together a Ceres detective and a small crew of ice miners. Characters are flawed, and rough edged, but they find a way to come together against an unlikely and terribly mysterious antagonist and display the best of their humanity.

I like the way Corey writes dialogue, and how he illustrates mood through body gestures. Technology is treated very nonchalantly, and feels not entirely unfamiliar. Drama is used sparingly, and punctuates the story at well timed moments. The story is complex, and layered, but I'm excited to continue it.