This is a story about a wealthy woman’s assisted suicide, but she had her death announced several days early because she wants to see what people say about her. I was expecting a lot of drama and disappointment. However, I was disappointed rather than the main character. The big surprises are presented early and discussed repetitively throughout the rest of the book. There is a lot of repetition as her adult life is presented in a series of flashbacks, which often occur without warning.

The author sticks to multiple point-of-view narration for most of the book but, confusingly, the narrator begins hopping between perspectives, even within a paragraph. That’s called “head hopping” and it is very confusing to read. No matter whose POV is used, the narration reads like a technical report. That’s too bad because the story is weak and needs some good writing to prop it up.

The characters are mostly undifferentiated, with a few exceptions. Thus, the dialogue is confusing because there aren’t enough “dialogue tags” to keep up. I had to reread a lot of the dialogue.

The central character likes music, so the author uses a nice trick of having songs from different periods of her life appear to represent her dying memories. I don’t think it was done well because I found myself annoyed at not knowing if real and fictional songs and artists were mixed up; you see, the story takes place in 2044. Usually, I would have checked out some of them, but it wasn’t worth the effort. Of course, I recognized Pink Floyd and a few others from more recent decades.

The reader is supposed to have mixed feelings about Dava Shastri, but I just couldn’t get involved with the story enough to care. To ruin an already poorly written book, the epilogue explains what happens to Dava’s children (all adults) over the next months to years.

Talk about beating a dead horse …

Este libro es colección de cuentos sobre la miserable vida de las trabajadores migrantes en California durante los cuarenta. Es ficción pero basado en historias reales. Se cuenta a través los ojos de un nińo mexicano de que tiene solo cuatro años después su familia cruza la frontera ilegalmente.

Ellos viven en tiendas de campañas y chozas y cocheras mientras trabajan desde el amanecer hasta el anochecer siguiendo la cosecha de uva y lechuga y algodón. El autor asiste la escuela en muchos pueblos mientras creciendo. Sus hermanos menores son americanos pero su hermano mayor y él mismo son indocumentados pero su padre tiene tarjeta verde.

El final es angustioso pero demasiado cierto. Es un buen libro tanto para adultos como para niños.

This is another review of a Spanish novel. This book tells the story of three friends who must flee their small town in Guatemala when a criminal gang moves in and they come to the attention of its leader. Their backgrounds are pretty miserable. Pulga, a thirteen-year-old boy who longs to follow his father to America, plans their escape to the United States. They leave in the middle of the night, leaving notes for their mothers.

They avoid human traffickers, corrupt police, and kidnappers, while riding on top of railway cars. They walk through the jungle and are assaulted by local criminals, and finally cross the desert with a “coyote”. Tragedy finds them during their journey and the survivors are split up when they encounter the U.S. Border Patrol.

This is a heartbreaking story of desperation, hope, and perseverance against overwhelming odds. However, the author spends too much time on their emotional states, shared through their thoughts . Furthermore, it is apparent from the beginning who is not going to make it because their story isn’t told in the first person.

The action sequences are exciting but the long train ride across Mexico is repetitive. The main protagonists spend too much time thinking about their parents and their desperate situation. This is important but redundant to the reader.

I don’t know if the events depicted are realistic or not, but they certainly sound plausible, maybe not all during a single journey. Despite my criticism of the repeated mental anguish of the protagonists, they come across as age-appropriate children, not adults in children’s bodies. There are no heroic scenes or unbelievable stunts.

This is a story of hope and perseverance against incredible odds.

SPANISH TRANSLATION

Yo estoy escribiendo esta reseña sobre una novella español que leí recientemente. Este libro cuenta la historia de tres amigos que tienen que huir de sus pueblo pequeño en Guatemala porque una banda criminal llega y ellos son notados por el jefe. Pulga, un niño de trece años que tiene esperanza de que le seguir a su padre hacia los Estados Unidos, planifica su escape. Ellos se van en medio de la noche, dejando las notas por sus madres.

Ellos evitan a los traficantes de personas, policías corruptas y secuestradores mientras se sienten encima de vagones de tren. Ellos andan por la selva, son asaltadas por criminales locales, y finalmente se cruzan el desierto siguiendo un coyote. La tragedia los encuentra durante el viaje y los sobrevivientes se están separado donde les encuentran la patrulla fronteriza.

Esto es historia corazón roto de desesperación, esperanza y perseverancia en la cara de increíbles posibilidades. Sin embargo el autor pasa demasiado tiempo sobre las emociones de los caracteres por sus pensamientos en lugar de sus palabras. Además es claro de lo comienzo de quien no lo va a lograr porque la victima no habla en sus propias palabras.

Las escenas acciones son muy emocionantes pero el viaje largo por México es repetitivo. Los dos caracteres principales se preocupan demasiado sobre their situación mal. Por supuesto es importante para ellos pero muy borrado por los lectores.

No supo si los eventos representan en este libro son realistas o no pero ellos suenan plausibles pero tal vez no durante un solo viaje. A pesar de mi critica sobre los pensamientos desesperados estresado por los dos caracteres principios ellos se presentan como edad apropiada jovenes en lugar de adultos pequeños. La historia no contiene acciones superhéroes.

Esto es historia sobre esperanza y perseverancia contra probabilidades imposibles.

The title of this book is a little misleading because it doesn’t have a central theme. This is a collection of essays published in Le Monde, a leading French periodical. If there is a theme, it is a call for expanding the European Union to be more democratic fiscally, and socially responsible.

Piketty is involved with a group that recently published a Manifesto for the Democratization of Europe. These essays support that cause, reflecting his developing ideas, from wealth inequality to investment in education. Unlike so many other writers, he proposes concrete solutions or at least starting points for a democratic conversation. He doesn’t see a world filled with bad guys and good guys, but only people who are trying to get ahead, some with the assistance of democratically elected governments. His proposals are mostly focused on Europe and France, but the ideas behind them are equally applicable to the United States.

As expected, the book is filled with charts that support what he’s saying, so he can’t be dismissed out of hand. Wealth and opportunity inequality in the advanced countries are approaching those of pre-industrial societies, which isn’t good for anyone in the long run. I hope someone with influence is listening here in the U.S. but I’m not betting on it.

The takeaway message is meant for Europeans, however; the E.U. is in crisis and something has to be done or it will splinter and Europe will return to a condition no one wants to see.

Nevertheless, Americans should be paying attention because it can happen here … recall the ominous future predicted in The Nine Nations of North America, written by Joel Gardena in 1981 …

I read this novel to see what kind of science fiction is being written today; it could have been written fifty years ago, except for the use of modern technology like notebook computers. The technology even included sheets of paper stapled together and handed out at a meeting. No kidding. The language, behavior, physical culture, was all from today, apparently frozen in time for at least 1000 years.

A collection of galaxy-spanning human colonies, connected by a network of cosmological features that sound like naturally occurring worm holes, has been cut off from Earth and formed an empire based on a hereditary emperor and monopolistic, hereditary corporations. The fun begins when the cosmic strands that connect these planets become unstable because they are too far apart to communicate with each other, even at light-speed.

The action focuses on two planets, one earth-like but at the far end of the network of worm holes, the other a nexus where most of the network segments lead — called End and Hub, respectively. Great names whose significance is stressed repeatedly. There are a lot of action scenes which, unfortunately, are so far removed in space (and time) that they aren’t integrated well into the story. The author is trying to write a political thriller and an action story at the same time, spanning thousands of light years. To satisfy his expectant readers (a previous novel was a NYT bestseller), he balances these opposing objectives; to be honest, it is done as well as can be hoped for. However, it is an impossible task which he acknowledges by ending the story inconclusively — a cliffhanger, season finale comes to mind.

The story of human perfidy, bad luck, and failure is plausible, especially in a story that takes place only a few thousand years from now (just look at how little we’ve changed since the earliest known empires). This book probably didn’t take long to write because the dialogue and technology (not counting the ambiguous “flow” and the spacecraft that traverse it) are unchanged from today. I mean literally. They have cars and trucks, but of course there are shuttles like in Star Trek. Because of all this familiar background, I didn’t spend much time trying to understand the story. I only had to backtrack to remember some of the strange names the characters had, although profanity (i.e. “fuck”) will apparently be favored by some people even in the distant future.

There were too many dead ends to tell the story in one novel. Because of the distances and communication delays involved in the story, there are several scenes described in detail — giving the reader a new cast of characters to become familiar with — which could have been glossed over by the narrator. This attention to detail left me expecting the reappearance of these characters, but I was disappointed.

I haven’t read any previous books by Scalzi, and I won’t read the inevitable sequel to this one. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it is a sequel itself, although the back cover made no such suggestion.

This falls in the category of “Summer Reading” — undemanding, read on the beach, stained by sun screen and salt, each chapter forgotten as quickly as it’s finished; as such, I would recommend it, but don’t plan on closure …

The unmanned spacecraft plunged further into the unknown, the Sun no brighter than the stars towards which it had been hurled by gravity at more than thirty-four-thousand mph. It reached the edge of the solar system thirty-six years into its mission, when its instruments – designed to measure planetary magnetic fields, the flux of ions and electrons, and the strength of cosmic rays – encountered the heliopause. Physicists had predicted the existence of such a dynamic surface, an envelope as it were, surrounding the solar system where the interstellar wind would be as strong as the flow of particles emanating from the Sun. 

The scientific instruments on Voyager One recorded this momentous event for the scientists of Earth, the third planet from the Sun, to ponder acrimoniously, which was their manner of communicating amongst themselves. Oblivious of their confusion and determination to explain its ambiguous measurements, the interstellar traveler continued on its journey toward the unknown reaches of the galaxy, its instruments powered by a nuclear reactor that would sustain it until 2030 or later. Had it been sentient, Voyager One would have been proud of its accomplishment.

Given the profusion of conflicting data gathered by Voyager One, scientists developed a new model of the heliopause that integrated turbulence into the interaction of the heliosphere with interstellar space, and decided that the lonely spacecraft had just encountered a pothole as it departed the solar system.  The intrepid interstellar voyager continued along its trajectory nonplussed, until it encountered something its creators hadn’t anticipated.

Another backstory from “The Edge of Space,” a science fiction novel I’m starting. This story introduces three supporting characters and how they interact.

The Science Director’s words were still ringing in Michael Snedden’s ears as he stared at the fake analog clock on the wall of his office. NASA had a reputation for facing up to its failures and moving on. The Viking One mission was a failure. It had been launched fifty-years earlier to travel beyond the solar system but, once entering interstellar space, its instruments began reporting anomalous data. It didn’t even know where it was, even though it was hurtling through the cosmos at more than thirty-four-thousand miles per hour. He was to inform the principal investigators for its science missions of its status and not release any of the faulty data. That last part bothered him. Wouldn’t the PIs want to examine the data so they could improve future instruments? He had raised that point but Director Richardson had been clear that the data were useless for scientific purposes, which raised another flag for Michael. If the instruments had reported scientifically useless data, what else could it be used for? He would to the JPL contractors who’d discovered the problem when he informed them that their services were no longer required.

His computer notified him of the call he’d been expecting, from the White House. Michael knew Assistant Undersecretary of Science and Technology Djimon Walker by reputation only; he was a relentless young man who should not be underestimated. Michael accepted the video call and prepared for the worst, but he was going to insist on knowing why the science leads were not to see the data. He would need a plausible answer when their complaints became public.

Djimon Walker couldn’t have been more than thirty-five, his black face topped by short-cropped hair, a thin mustache separating a broad nose from thick lips, but his symmetrical eyes were focused like laser beams on Michael before he spoke.

“We’ll keep this brief because you are going to get a lot of blowback from your scientists. They are going to demand to see the data that we’re telling them is corrupted but their accessing it is out of the question. You will need to have a good cover story. I suggest that you speak to Malcolm Goodson at NSA. I’ll send you his contact info, He’ll be expecting your call. Meanwhile, I’d like to know more about the contractors at JPL who discovered the anomaly.”

Michael was taken aback by Walker’s verbal assault and had to think a minute, consulting several reports lying on his desk, before responding. “The Viking program’s science mission is being handled by a subcontractor. The lead is …” He dug through the papers and found the contract before continuing, “Madison Long has a B.S. in physics. She’s been working on the project for two years, flawless performance, not a single complaint from the mission scientists, and she was recently joined by Devon  Chambers …” He leafed through some more papers adding, “He has a B.S. in physics from Texas A&M, had a scholarship. I don’t know much about him because he’s only been on the program for a couple of weeks. Despite the exemplary job Madison was doing, the contract called for two analysts.”

Walker’s eyes narrowed briefly before he said, “Can you add anything that I don’t already know?”

“I met Madison Long a couple of times in formal situations. She’s a strange girl but … she’s brilliant, that’s how everyone describes her. She could have gotten a PhD from MIT but dismissed it as a lot of academic bullshit – those are her words as I was told. During one brief conversation, she informed me that the constellations were nothing more than paintings put there for our entertainment. She’s a big believer in astrology. During another brief encounter she told me my horoscope and explained it in detail, ignoring the complaints of the scientists around us. Very determined and … she is the most intellectually persistent person I’ve ever met. All I can say about Devon Chambers is what Madison reported in what she calls his initial performance report; he’s a fast learner and doesn’t follow typical scientific thinking. He spotted the anomaly after only thirty minutes on the job, with no introduction to the mission —  a failure she admits was her own. He’s a pretty sharp young man. Probably would be a good PhD candidate.” 

Walker’s focused expression was unchanged as he said, “Inform Ms. Long that she is on a leave of absence and doesn’t need to monitor the Viking mission any further, but leave the contract in place so that we don’t garner unwanted attention. I will deal with her myself. Thank you for your time, Dr. Snedden.”

The video call ended just like that but, before Michael could reflect on the conversation, his computer informed him of a video call from the President’s undersecretary of science and technology. He had never met Sylvia Dubicki but he’d read about her in newspapers and magazines. She had held temporary positions in the White House for both political parties and was considered to be an honest, pragmatic scientist who was above the political fray. He accepted the call.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Snedden.”

Michael glanced at the clock and did some quick mental math. “Good evening, Dr. Dubicki. What a coincidence. I just got off the line with Dr. Walker, who informed me of the official status of the Voyager program.” He smiled at the aging face on his monitor, a white woman who could have been a grandmother in a children’s story, with short, dyed blond hair showing gray, and twinkling eyes.

“It is getting late,” she replied. “Thank god I don’t have to worry about putting the children to bed. They’re probably going to be up for hours. That’s their problem. My problem is how to deal with the current crisis confronting humanity …” She paused to let her words sink in. 

Michael made the connection to Dr. Walker’s ambiguous reference to scientific uses for Voyager One but hedged his response. “Yes. The failure of Voyager One will be a problem with Congress, the competence of NASA once again called into question.”

Dr. Dubicki smiled knowingly. “Good equivocal answer, but this is a … I don’t know how to put it. This isn’t a question of national defense because the spacecraft is far beyond our ability to investigate what happened but there may have been interference by an unknown entity, by which I mean that there is something hidden … the anomalous data seem to conatain a communication of some kind, but NSA’s algorithms haven’t gotten further than that.”

Michael’s mind was reeling. “What kind of message?”

“We don’t know but the only reasonable interpretation at this early stage is contact with an extraterrestrial species. The data reveal patterns that make no sense to our analysts or our supercomputers. By the way, this call was a spur of the moment. I’m sure that Dr. Walker explained the White House’s position very well, but then I thought … maybe we need an outsider’s perspective because, after all, our best effort produced nothing more than a pattern with a fifty-one percent confidence of it being anything more than noise.”

“What would you like me to do, Dr. Dubicki?”

Blue eyes filled with uncertainty presaged what her words made clear. “Madison and Devon are more familiar with the data than the NSA so, even though you are to terminate their involvement in the Voyager program, I would appreciate it if you could continue to allow them access. I’m not asking you to break any law or NASA regulation, but only give them a leave of absence … so they can look at the anomalous data from another perspective.”

“So, officially their contract is terminated but they aren’t told to turn in their badges and they continue to have access to the data. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes. Can you do that?”

“That’s a lot easier than telling the mission scientists that they can’t see the data. Why don’t we get their assistance too?”

Dr. Dubicki sighed and frowned. “That would be violating a direct instruction from the President. We are walking a fine line here, Dr. Snedden. Are we in agreement?”

“Yes, ma’am. I will speak to them myself.”

“Thank you, Dr. Snedden.”