December reading (finally getting around to describing it)

Enter Jeeves: 15 Early Stories, by P.G. Wodehouse

Quaint. It's hard to tell just how hard the author is laughing at his own characters. Are we supposed to feel like Jeeves' employer is a doddering but endearing moron, or should we hiss him like a villain - a punching-bag example of high-bred ignorance and weakness? Is it okay that Jeeves puts him into embarrassing situations, or are we supposed to be troubled by such apparent insubordination?

Mind you, this is apparently early in the written legacy of Jeeves, so perhaps I've been exposed to half-formed characters. Unfortunately, the comic-book feel of these adventures has not whet my appetite for more. I'll probably be ignoring Jeeves in the future and reading more Bryant and May instead.

A mere four out of ten magnifying glasses up.

The Red Queen: Sex and the Evolution of Human Nature, by Matt Ridley

Fascinating. I didn't realize it before reading this book, but there was a gap in my exploration of genetics; a hazy unexplored cloud around two simple questions that actually require hugely complicated answers: "Why does sex exist", and "why are there (only) two genders?"

In this book I found a thorough discussion of all the modern theories that have been proposed to answer these questions, and it was truly eye-opening. Two chapters in particular impressed me more than the others:

First, the chapter discussing how there was darwinistic competition not just at the gene level, but below the genes, at the level of genetic code itself - an information warfare with startlingly apt parallels in the world of modern computer programming - an arena with its own computer-virus-like infections, code patches, system exploitations, and so on. It seemed such a natural fit that I was a bit embarrassed I hadn't thought about it before.

And second, the chapter that discusses the game-theory implications of genetic competition amongst females, across a spectrum of species, and how the sexual behavior of each species in its environment can be understood as a balance between genetic stability and innovation. In other words, long-term environmental pressures on a species can alter the level of sexual competition, the amount of cheating, the amount of male involvement, the level of infanticide, the number of offspring in a litter, the number of partners a female seeks and for how long, et cetera. Basically, every way the sexual system can be gamed, is subject to tinkering through environmental pressures.

The author sometimes delicately overreaches to extrapolate into human behavior, but always frames each attempt with a disclaimer. Even if it's terribly unscientific, it's still absolutely fascinating to search for parallels in the human world, even in my own life.

For example, why should I be flooded with hormones as a teenager, saddled with a burning desire to have indiscriminate sex that is at odds with modern enlightened society, ... only to have those hormones submit increasingly to my control as I mature emotionally and intellectually? If I work from the premise that my natural instincts are generally successful - they produced me and all my ancestors after all - then this hormonal transition must serve some purpose in furthering my genes (though not necessarily my personal happiness).

I can think of an armchair answer to that question: As a young man, I am surrounded by older, more powerful men, and may not live terribly long. Better to be highly motivated to get someone pregnant despite the consequences. As an older man, I have power of my own, and can make more discerning choices about the quality of my mate and my offspring. A cooler head is more likely to prevail.

It's not a perfect hypothesis, obviously, and I have no idea what kind of experiment could be designed to test it. But it's just the tiniest example of the enormous number of ideas that The Red Queen conjured in my mind as I was reading. It spurred me to look at every single social behavior I engage in - and the ones that I don't - and consider them all from a strategic perspective, as the steward and the vehicle for a bundle of furiously competing genes.

I've returned to this book four or five times to re-read some of the most interesting chapters, and each visit reawakens a tangled bank of thoughts. Love it!

Eight out of ten codons up!

Before the Dawn: Recovering the Lost History of Our Ancestors, by Nicholas Wade

This book is a awkwardly assembled. The content is absolutely fascinating, and I do recommend it, but the author tends to charge from one anecdote or setting straight into another without enough connecting narrative. I've heard it said that to write clearly, you need to announce what you're going to explain, then explain why it is necessary to explain it, then finally make the explanation. This book tends to skip the second step, and sometimes even the first.

I confess, I put it down about a quarter of the way in, and have not yet returned to it, even though I know I'll be fascinated again when I do.

April reading (oh man, we're totally catching up now!)

Discworld 25: The Truth, by Terry Pratchett

This is an especially vivid Pratchett novel - you can practically see every character marching around in your head, pontificating and cracking jokes as they navigate the twisty passages of Ankh-Morpork. All of Pratchett's characters are generally well-realized, but usually his protagonists are given far more development and attention than his antagonists. Not so in this book. The two main villains here are hugely entertaining - a brilliant cross between hard-boiled gangsters and an Abbot-and-Costello vaudeville act, with endearing flourishes, and they are given plenty of room to strut their stuff. They're so much fun you almost find yourself rooting for them by the end of the book, despite their blatantly despicable behavior.

With this book, even more than Pratchett's others, I had to stop and wonder every now and then at how much entertainment I was deriving from a work of humorous, seemingly uncomplicated, fiction. It's not a blazing philosophical manifesto, or a brilliant exploration of a scientific frontier, or cunning work of investigative journalism. There's no convenient way to justify reading it. But it is a fun, funny story that's fantastically well executed, and having read it for the second time now, I'm convinced that I will eventually return to it a third time, and maybe even a fourth.

Nine out of ten fine marble carvings up.

The Darwin Awards, by Wendy Northcutt

Most of these stories I'd already heard just from being a long-time denizen of the internet, but there were some that were new to me. I had to take this book in small pieces, because story after story of people behaving like morons is funny for only a limited time, then it becomes bland, and then it gets depressing. The inclusion of "urban legends" alongside the verified stories is an interesting enhancement, and I was pleased to find that the tales I'd read online that had been passed around as "verified truth" - though never with any documentation - were just as unsubstantiated to the authors of this book, and even more obviously implausible to my jaded adult self.

Despite reading it in pieces, it was still a chore to finish. The authors tried to keep it fresh by organizing the stories into rough themes and throwing in amateurish editorials, but somewhere around the story of the young woman who jumped off half-dome with a defective parachute and plummeted like a stone to her gory death in front of her boyfriend's eyes and a gathered crowd of tourists, I lost my taste for it.

Four out of ten exposed wiring panels up.

Discworld 19: Feet of Clay, by Terry Pratchett

This was a fun police procedural, and I returned to it because I'd completely forgotten the plot after so many years. I'd also forgotten what a fun read it was. This is the one where Nobby learns about his family tree, and we are treated to a much elongated version of his name, which is something like - and don't fault me for getting it wrong since I'm quoting from memory - "Lt. Crpl. Cecil Wormsborough St. John 'Nobby' DeNobbs."

I remember using that name as my email alias back in the 90's, but it still wasn't long enough so I tacked a few things on, and came up with "Lt. Crpl. Cecil Wormsborough St. John 'Nobby' DeNobbs Esq. And His Ragtime Band." Somehow that address and the associated name got thrown into a list of "celebrity email addresses" and passed around from website to dusty website, and over the next decade I got five or six emails from people who asked, incredulously, if that was my real name, or if I could help them get directly in touch with Sir Terry Pratchett.

This was a breezy read. The mustache-twirling high-society conspirators are about as sophisticated and threatening as the ones you'd see in the average Saturday-morning cartoon - The Gummi Bears perhaps - but Vimes is thoroughly Vimesey, and Colon is very Colonesque. And Nobby is ... well, ... is.

Seven out of ten magic scrolls up.

New Rules: Polite Musings from a Timid Observer, by Bill Maher

Bill Maher is, to myself and my left-leaning social circles, equal parts alarming firebrand and national treasure. He's an outspoken critic of conservative and religious attempts to legislate morality, and he uses comedy as a gateway and weapon to enliven his panel discussions. Sometimes he comes down on the wrong side of an issue, but he also shows a refreshing willingness to admit when he's wrong and publicly change his opinion.

That said, this book is not a good demonstration of his appeal.

It's an endless clockwork procession of topical political jokes, most of which have not aged well, interspersed with sex jokes, and references to current events that have long since lost their currency. Without a panel to derail him or an audience to force him to pace himself, Bill's tone here is a bit too consistently sanctimonious to be enjoyed for the comedy.

He's gathered a second collection, "The New New Rules", that I read sometime last year and found to be more palatable, but still not enough to recommend.

Three out of ten flag lapel-pins up.

June reading (oops we skipped a month)

I Am America And So Can You, by Stephen Colbert (and his staff writers)

I was underwhelmed with this book ... but to me, Colbert's breed of comedy - and his comedy persona - doesn't work in long-form, and this book is just proof of that. The Stephen Colbert of the TV show is a creation purpose-built to satirize the media and make topical commentary. Like chewing gum, you gnaw on each episode for a little while and then throw it away, never to be seen again, which is okay because there's always another to look forward to. This book is basically a piece of chewing gum the size of a boxcar. It's way too much gum, and after a little bit of chewing your sense of taste gets all wonky and you forget why you liked gum in the first place.

But perhaps I'm being too harsh. There is, of course, some great political commentary marbled into this work, and every now and then Colbert succeeds in coaxing the most minor of laughs out of me. And it's great to listen to while gardening or doing laundry. Now that's what I call damning with faint praise!!

Five out of ten mismatched earlobes up.

The Hound of the Baskervilles: A Comedic Take, by the BBC, based on the story by Arthur Conan Doyle

This was pretty entertaining and forgettable, except for a throwaway audio gag about two-thirds through it involving a "lamb in a bag" that had me laughing so hard I had to stop the recording and fall over for a while, then rewind a good two minutes or so to find my place again.

I'll Mature When I'm Dead, by Dave Barry

This is an anthology of some of Dave Barry's editorials with a vague adulthood and parenting theme.

The audio version is excellent for a long car trip, especially on unfamiliar roads that are nevertheless boring. The content is amusing and easily digestible, and you don't suffer much for getting distracted and missing the occasional paragraph.

Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson

Oh my god, this is a fantastic novel.

If I didn't already have a clear favorite (Diamond Age) I would say this is Stephenson's best work. It's a self-aware combination of Cyberpunk and parody, with enough wildcards and bizarre scenery and moments of adorable character development to keep you thoroughly entertained all the way to the last page. It has also aged remarkably well for a Cyberpunk novel - somehow still feeling innovative after a decade and a half. One can't quite say the same about Neuromancer, for example, which is built around some ideas that seem quaint or even inane in our wireless, touchscreened present.

But you don't need to come to Snow Crash for its science fiction merits. Read it for the characters. They are a riot! Amazon proclaims this book is "One of Time magazine's 100 all-time best English-language novels," and I am almost inclined to pitch in a voice of agreement, but ... that's a pretty big honor, putting it in competition with enduring works like Great Expectations and Treasure Island. Snow Crash is a damn good novel and you really shouldn't miss out on it, but it does end a bit sloppily, leaving you hungry for a sequel that has never materialized, or a film adaptation that has been almost pre-spoiled by The Matrix and a variety of explorative anime works like Serial Experiments Lain, Perfect Blue, Summer Wars, and Ghost In The Shell.

Nevertheless, the book is so much fun - and such an enjoyable world to be in - that upon finishing it, you'll be tempted to just turn from the last page to the first and read the whole thing right over again. It's really that much fun.

Nine out of ten electronic pizza boxes up.

Why Evolution Is True, by Jerry A. Coyne

I can usually conjure something interesting to say about any book I read, or start reading. I can at least explain why it didn't hold my interest, or make some snide joke about why it sucked.

The most I can say about this one is, it's well-meaning but presented without flair. Jerry has made a piece-by-piece, well-mannered, tick-all-the-checkboxes procession through historical and semi-recent scientific evidence establishing the fact of evolution, pulling in strong case-studies, and supporting scaffolding from various physical sciences such as geology, physics, biology, paleontology, anthropology, genetics, and so on.

The problem I had with this book is, none of it was new to me. It would have been nice to see Jerry wander afield a little bit, like the way Richard Dawkins in The Ancestor's Tale uses a story about the speciation of grasshoppers as the basis for a very interesting discussion about the meaning of "race" to humans, and follows the branches of the discussion to reach recommendations of other works, including The Red Queen and Dr. Tatiana's Sex Advice to All Creation.

Why Evolution Is True contains no such zestful wanderings. But, perhaps it doesn't really need to contain them. I think my own perspective is too warped to judge this book fairly, so I'm going to avoid giving it a rating.