Review: "Ilium" by Dan Simmons; Ice Cream

Rage. Sing, O Muse, of the rage...

The intelligent opening to Dan Simmons' Ilium, an "elegant monster of an epic" (PW) that is literary sci-fi at its... almost best. You'll probably find nothing but praise for this work, and I agree, it's something that should be read, whether you like sci-fi, Greek mythology, adventure, Shakespeare, or just a very literate, intelligent read. But unlike some, I'll argue it's not perfect. More on that in a moment.

Three storylines. Earth, Jupiter, and Mars. Humans, meta-humans, sentient robots. All coming together as a mystery unravels, surging towards an epic battle. On earth, the remaining population of humans is much like the Eloi of Wells' creation: soft in body and mind. But some have begun to question the world around them. On Jupiter, four sentient robots prepare to undertake a journey to Mars; two of them do not know what their mission is about, but they are necessary components. On Mars, a race of meta-humans calling themselves "gods" is re-creating the Trojan War using actual ancient Greek humans (or are they...?). It's the massive terraforming and quantum power that has drawn the attention of the robots. And in the middle of this, a lone scholic from the 20th/21st century (he's not sure exactly when he used to exist) is about to change history -- literally.

Engaging, fast-paced, exciting twists, superbly creative -- what more could you want?

Well...

I could want more 3-D characters, for starters. The single character who stands out, head and shoulders above the rest, is Mahnmut, a moravec (sentient robot) who studies the sonnets of Shakespeare and who has spent most of his existence in his own submersible, far below the Europan seas. Mahmnut is diligent, loyal and thoughtful. It's his loyalty that won my heart, as he and his friend, Orphu of Io, are the only two remaining robots after the "gods" blast them out of the Mars atmosphere. He's courageous and intelligent, gently funny, and he's got a set of his own problems to overcome. He does with grace, and I could not have loved him anymore.

As for the actual humans, well, that's another story. Here we go again. Male sci-fi writer, female characters divided into three groups: whore, bitch, or child(like). It is permissible, of course, to combine these. Helen of Troy, for instance, slots neatly into whore/bitch. But beyond this, the female characters are little more than window dressing. Sure, they've got their parts to play. It's just too bad that they weren't endowed with any of the same endearing characteristics of the robot.

As for the human males, the most vacuous of them all, Daeman, is probably Simmons' triumph. He's the only one who made realistic, believable progress without veering into cliche (though he certainly starts out that way). No other character makes nearly as much progress, and I'd argue that this book is, indeed, Daeman's story. The Hero, unlikely as he is. He whines, he cries, he's petulant, spoiled and soft -- hell, he's pudgy! He never wants anything to change, he isn't curious... And yet, the Daeman at the end is a remarkable human being, unlike any other I've come across in a book yet, and I am rooting for him.

Great book, but the characters fell flat. I can't even begin to describe how paper-thin the Greeks are. I had hope for Zeus, but he seems like just a cariacture of a god. If, however, you're a sci-fi fan, get this. It's brilliant, it's literary, it's clever.



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I also had high hopes for last night's ice cream: Lemon.

The recipe is simple: kefir (a sort of thin, drinkable yogurt, unsweetened, tangy), honey, lemon zest, lemon juice, a splash of Limoncello. Whisk, put it in your ice cream maker, and in 45 minutes, a snowy mound of very tart, very lemony ice cream.

It's perhaps too tart. As B said, you can't eat a big spoonful of this. Small bites, almost as if it was a palate cleanser. In the heat and humidity we've been experiencing, this is a gorgeously refreshing ice cream. Again, you just can't eat a lot of it, nor in big bites. :)

I'm going to try again with another lemon ice cream recipe. I want something a bit more subtle. I should mention that, at the link above, they do say that the recipe is so simple, you could easily substitute a variety of citrus. So, lime or grapefruit. Very intriguing!

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Weird zombie fic progresses. I need 200 more words.

And I wrote three pieces for the chapbook.

The above mentioned writing may not be spectacular, but at least I'm getting back into it. My head's finally starting to clear. It does feel like that, as if I've been in a fog for a week. Hopefully, the uphill climb is beginning. I like the work.

Story and book recs, ice cream, love

Two exceptional pieces of reading over at sleep.snort.fuck:

Things I Live With by R. Gay. The first paragraph has a slightly different tone than the rest, but all of this is gorgeous, sad, sick. It's a breathless read with a divinely perfect ending -- not a happy ending, note. Just vivid, poetic realism.

Christina Rosetti's Cunt and Trapped In Kathy Acker's Blood and Guts by P.A. Levy. Two poems that take what we all do --imagine others, celebrities, etc, naked -- to bizarre and absolutely fascinating extremes. And yet, they don't seem to read as if the author did it for shock value. Except for some minor quibbles, they're quite good: excellent, imaginative imagery and fairly tightly written. I shouldn't quibble at all, I suppose. I suck at writing poetry.

Since these are over at sleep.snort.fuck, you should assume two things: non-fiction, and NWS. And probably "disturbing," as well. :) I love how writers take "creative non-fiction" to new heights (and sometimes, new lows) over there. You never know what you're going to read on any given day. And note that Things I Live With is the first piece to inspire me to comment in a while.

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Seth Godin reviewed Mark Frauenfelder's new book, ending with, "Mark's honest retelling of his repeated failures to be brilliant at all times made me smile, and his relentless and joyous embrace of actually making things was an inspiration." This alone makes me want to read this book. Is life not, or should it not be, about trying to be brilliant? Which then leads to failure, often spectacular failure. If you're not trying to be brilliant, you're simply not trying. If you're not expecting to be brilliant at whatever it is you're trying, you've got no sense of humor. ;)

Making things by hand is a dying art in itself -- and by that, I mean, making anything at all. Right now, I am looking at our garage window. Last year, B decided it needed re-painting. It did, indeed. So he carefully took it out, stripped the paint, sanded it down, repainted it a lovely, sunny buttercream yellow, and put it back in. And then put it back in again. And again. Everything had been going so well up until that point...

So now we've got what I call the "Weasley window," a la that terrific family from the Potter books. It's crooked. It's darling. I adore it. I do not want another window put in, nor do I want to hire someone to come out and "fix" it for us. B did it. It's fantastic. And yes, it keeps the rain out.

Made by hand? I suppose not exactly, but this falls into the DIY category that Mark Frauenfelder writes about. There is something more infinitely beautiful about the handmade, even when, or especially when, it is not perfect.

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Falling in love again, day after day:

Sawing a two by four on the front steps, he picks up the fallen chunk of wood and holds it up to me.

"Do you like the smell of fresh cut wood?"

Yes, I do. He take the piece and jams it between metal and brick, and now our air conditioner isn't rattling (so much). I leave the sawdust on the steps. I like sitting there and looking at it.

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Ice Cream Is Also Love:

You may rcall the Blackberry Brown Sugar Mascarpone Ice Cream I made using Not So Humble Pie's recipe. Last night, I made... are you ready for this? ... Nutella Ice Cream. Yes. And yes, it was wonderful.

Five ingredients, no eggs. Light and not as creamy as an egg/custard-based ice cream, which in this case is a good thing. Nutella is rich and creamy enough. Also, the recipe makes about 2-3 cups, which is plenty for two people. A lot of ice cream recipes call for enough ingredients to make my ice cream maker overflow, and then I've got to package it all up and freeze it, and eat it before the week is out. Not a bad thing, but this was enough for us to have last night and then tonight we'll finish it off.

I'm a berry lovin' girl, so the Blackberry ice cream is still my favorite, but this was soooo good. It's now B's favorite, and he wants to know about adding actual hazelnuts next time. A very good idea, I think. Toasted hazelnuts, mm...

Blackberry Brown Sugar Ice Cream

Years ago, I was obsessed. Cakes, pies, sorbets, cookies, trifles, you name it. And then life changed, and although my sweet tooth remained intact, my love of making desserts waned.

I began following Not So Humble Pie's blog a week ago, and she's renewed my infatuation with making sweet things. Among the many things that caught my eye -- her blog is gorgeous -- was a recipe for Blackberry Brown Sugar Mascarpone ice cream. I received a new Cuisinart ice cream maker for my birthday, and I've only used it once (pistachio -- wonderful). This morning, I got straight to work.



Mascarpone. Mm. So smooth and creamy, and now I've got loads more left. What to do with the rest?

The ice cream being made. Within twenty minutes, it overflowed. This wasn't a real problem, and anyway, making ice cream (or any dessert, really) is always a messy but delicious process.

The end result, being put in my little Corningware dishes before going in the freezer.

So how does it taste? Divine. The mascarpone is a very definite taste element without being overpowering, and the entire thing is so fresh and perfect for spring/summer. Tonight, after dinner, we devour it.

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Haiku

Blackberries from bush

to freezer to ice cream dish.

The birds are bereft.