SF i fantasy

[harper lee]

Znam da o ukusima ne treba raspravljati, ali meni je Leva ruka tame jedna od najboljih SF knjiga koje sam pročitala. Cela planeta zvana Zima/ Geten, dve potpuno suprotne civilizacije koje žive na njoj, stanovnici hermafroditi , usamljeni predstavnik Ekumena, dvorske intrige, policijska diktatura, ludi kralj, avantura i saspens, pa šta više očekivati od SF romana. Ja inače, volim ceo njen tkz. Hainski ciklus priča i romana ( Čovek praznih šaka, Hainske priče i Ribar unutrtašnjeg mora). Sve ovo čini lepu i zaokruženu celinu.Zemljomorje je onako, zmajevi i čarobnjaci, pročitala, a nisam morala.

Slazem se. Meni je Leva Ruka Tame mozda i najbolji SF roman koji sam citao. Ursula Legvin je skroz zajebani pisac.

[Agni]

Najviše mi se svideo "Čovek praznih šaka",

I meni.

[porucnik vasic]

Човек празних шака и Човек у високом замку су ми међу десетак романа писаних на језику који није српски. Куриозитет је да су Фића и Урсула ишли у исту средњу.

[dare...]

vs Tja... I korice im nešto slične...Ajd za "Večiti Rat" sam već rekao da je dobar i ima dobar završetak. Svemirski vojnici nisu toliko dobri, ali se normalno čitaju i u sličnom su fazonu... Prvi provlači uzaludnost ratovanja, a drugi neminovnost ratovanja, jer je isto u čovekovoj prirodi.Drugi dodatno prodaje vojničku filozofiju, doktrinu štapa i šargarepe u vaspitanju, igre moći, veličanje herojstva, gradjenje vojnih autoriteta, umeće ratovanja i sl. Ja ne bih bio tako strog prema piscu militaristi, jer vojska stvarno tako i funkcioniše... Čak i gore...Hadelmenov "Večiti Mir" ostavih za kasnije, jerbo se zasitih cele te vojne doktrine i posvetih se nastavku "Mesećevih Vrtova" Stivena EriksonaTo je to. Edited July 7, 2011 by dare...

[Arkadija]

Човек у високом замку су ми међу десетак романа писаних на језику који није српски.

Mene je bilo sramota da priznam, al sad kad si ti spomenuo, ja nikad nisam uspela da shvatim o čemu se tu zaista radi. Ostavljam mogućnost da sam nedovoljno izobražena za takve suptilnosti. Edited July 7, 2011 by Arkadija

[Ivo Petović]

Човек празних шака и Човек у високом замку су ми међу десетак романа писаних на језику који није српски. Куриозитет је да су Фића и Урсула ишли у исту средњу.

Odličan izbor.

[porucnik vasic]

Mene je bilo sramota da priznam, al sad kad si ti spomenuo, ja nikad nisam uspela da shvatim o čemu se tu zaista radi. Ostavljam mogućnost da sam nedovoljno izobražena za takve suptilnosti.

Није фића увек најјаснији, када треба да заврши, тако да нема шта да те буде срамота. Има ту у сну сан и још понешто...

Odličan izbor.

И неписмена кока убоде које литерално зрно. ;) Захваљујем.

[kim_philby]

Није фића увек најјаснији, када треба да заврши, тако да нема шта да те буде срамота. Има ту у сну сан и још понешто...

netipicno za sf autora dik se bavi, izmedju ostalog, nemogucnoscu postojanja alternativnih svetova u 'coveku...' kao i neodrzivoscu bilo kakve revizionisticke istorigrafije. barem tako kaze darko suvin.sto je dosta cudno da se vasicu dopadne anti-revizionisticka knjiga :D

[porucnik vasic]

netipicno za sf autora dik se bavi, izmedju ostalog, nemogucnoscu postojanja alternativnih svetova u 'coveku...' kao i neodrzivoscu bilo kakve revizionisticke istorigrafije. barem tako kaze darko suvin.sto je dosta cudno da se vasicu dopadne anti-revizionisticka knjiga :D

Друг Дарко са својим педигреом не сумњам да пише тако, но како да се тумачи то да је сам Фића покушавао да уобличи наставак у коме алтернативни светови постоје. Они који су ревизионизам довели до савршенства, оптужују друге за исти...диковски је то. ;)

[Weenie Pooh]

Pročitao nedavno The Judging Eye, početak druge trilogije ciklusa Second Apocalypse, meni ranije nepoznatog kanadskog pisca R. Scott Bakkera. Zvuči zbrkano, ali samo zato što to i jeste.Utisci su mi pomešani, i što se tiče te jedne knjige i što se tiče celog serijala. S jedne strane dosta lepo sve to vozi, s druge strane mestimično dođu oni "da li ovo uopšte negde ide?" i "zar opet, žanrovski stereotipe broj 46?" trenuci.Prva trilogija se zove Prince of Nothing, i dešava se u fantasy verziji srednjevekovnog Sredozemlja, u vreme krstaških ratova. Paralele sa stvarnim svetom su više nego očigledne, postoje direktni ekvivalenti Hrišćanstva, Islama, Vizantije, Sirije, Egipta, Jerusalima, Mongola, itd. To bi samo po sebi obično bilo dovoljno da me natera da ostavim knjigu, ali u ovom slučaju... stvari se komplikuju utoliko što se sve to dešava against the backdrop nekih apokaliptičnih događaja iz davne prošlosti, mahom zaboravljenih, koje neki protagonisti pokušavaju da spreče da se ponove. (Ceo serijal se bavi predstojećom Drugom Apokalipsom, tj. sprečavanjem/započinjanjem iste.)Imamo mesijanske figure u stilu Muad'Diba, imamo tajna društva čiji članovi sanjaju snove svog osnivača iz doba Apokalipse na repeat, imamo doppelgangerska stvorenja sa jakim SF elementima, imamo spooky precocious posednutu decu, imamo whores with a heart of gold, ima ženski, ima svega...Jedan specifičan aspekt je sveprisutno filozofiranje na raznorazne teme, uglavnom o prirodi ljudske svesti, senkama na zidu pećine, ulozi vere u formiranju društva... tu i tamo imam utisak da preteruje i mistifikuje neka opšta mesta, ali moguće da je samo do mene. Bakker je i sam na nekakvom privatnom krstaškom pohodu da dokaže da EF može da se bavi istim pitanjima kao i "ozbiljna" mainstream književnost, ima chip on his shoulder i pokušava da dokaže nekom neke stvari - to ume da smeta... A kad se malo opusti, čovek ume da piše sasvim solidno i epski i fantazijski. Neke scene su mu stvarno odlične, prosto da odmah poželiš da ih vidiš u stripu. Neke druge su mu užasni klot fantasy klišei, including but not limited to nekekav prolaz nekakve "družine" kroz nekakvu "Moriju" naseljenu nekakvim "orcima" (spase ih žrtvovanje nekakvog "Gandalfa", I shit you not).Slično, Bakkerov prikaz likova široko varira. Neki bude radoznalost da saznaš još i još, a daju informacije na kašičicu... dok su neki sasvim jednodimenzionalni, što ne sprečava autora da nam njihovih par ključnih osobina po sto puta nabija na nos. Zanimljivo je da ženski likovi praktično ne postoje - imamo ukupno jednu kurvu i jednu kurvu-robinju (čuo sam da je to nekakav Bakkerov "realizam" - sve medieval žene su, jel'te, kurve).Druga trilogija se zove Aspect-Emperor, pročitao sam samo pomenutu prvu knjigu. (Ima još jedna, a treća izlazi ne zna se kada.) Izgleda da je more of the same, s tom razlikom što je odstupio od meni užasno glupavih fantasy-krstaških ratova pa pravi neki originalni zaplet. Kao što rekoh drugu kimu na Martinovom TV topiku, sve ovo mi je priličan guilty pleasure. Interesantno i zarazno, ali povremeno deluje plitkasto/veštački nakićeno dubljim značenjem. Preporučujem da se proba, ne garantujem da će vam leći.

[Weenie Pooh]

Evo prolog prve knjige, relativno je reprezentativan, pa vidite kako vam se čini:

It is only after that we understand what has come before, then we understand nothing. Thus we shall define the soul as follows: that which precedes everything. – AJENCIS, THE THIRD ANALYTIC OF MEN2147 Year-of-the-Tusk, the Mountains of DemuaOne cannot raise walls against what has been forgotten.The citadel of Ishuäl succumbed during the height of the Apocalypse. But no army of inhuman Sranc had scaled its ramparts. No furnace-hearted dragon had pulled down its mighty gates. Ishuäl was the secret refuge of the Kûniüric High Kings, and no one, not even the No-God, could besiege a secret.Months earlier, Anasûrimbor Ganrelka II, High King of Kûniüri, had fled to Ishuäl with the remnants of his household. From the walls, his sentries stared pensively across the dark forests below, their thoughts stricken by memories of burning cities and wailing multitudes. When the wind moaned, they gripped Ishuäl’s uncaring stone, reminded of Sranc horns. They traded breathless reassurances. Had they not eluded their pursuers? Were not the walls of Ishuäl strong? Where else might a man survive the end of the world?The plague claimed the High King first, as was perhaps fitting: Ganrelka had only wept at Ishuäl, raged the way only an Emperor of nothing could rage. The following night the members of his household carried his bier down into the forests. They glimpsed the eyes of wolves reflected in the light of his pyre. They sang no dirges, intoned only a few numb prayers.Before the morning winds could sweep his ashes skyward, the plague had struck two others: Ganrelka’s concubine and her daughter. As though pursuing his bloodline to its thinnest tincture, it assailed more and more members of his household. The sentries upon the walls became fewer, and though they still watched the mountainous horizon, they saw little. The cries of the dying crowded their thoughts with too much horror.Soon even the sentries were no more. The five Knights of Trysë who’d rescued Ganrelka after the catastrophe on the Fields of Eleneöt lay motionless in their beds. The Grandvizier, his golden robes stained bloody by his bowel, lay sprawled across his sorcerous texts. Ganrelka’s uncle, who’d led the heartbreaking assault on Golgotterath’s gates in the early days of the Apocalypse, hung from a rope in his chambers, slowly twisting in a draft. The Queen stared endlessly across festering sheets.Of all those who had fled to Ishuäl, only Ganrelka’s bastard son and the Bardic Priest survived.Terrified by the Bard’s strange manner and one white eye, the young boy hid, venturing out only when his hunger became unbearable. The old Bard continually searched for him, singing ancient songs of love and battle, but slurring the words in blasphemous ways. “Why won’t you show yourself, child?” he would cry as he reeled through the galleries. “Let me sing to you. Woo you with secret songs. Let me share the glory of what once was!”One night the Bard caught the boy. He caressed first his cheek and then his thigh. “Forgive me,” he muttered over and over, but tears fell only from his blind eye. “There are no crimes,” he mumbled afterward, “when no one is left alive.”But the boy lived. Five nights later, he lured the Bardic Priest onto Ishuäl’s towering walls. When the man shambled by in a drunken stupor, he pushed him from the heights. He crouched for a long while at the fall’s edge, staring down through the gloom at the Bard’s broken corpse. It differed from the others, he decided, only in that it was still wet. Was it murder when no one was left alive?Winter added its cold to the emptiness of Ishuäl. Propped on the battlements, the child would listen to the wolves sing and feud through the dark forests. He would pull his arms from his sleeves and hug his body against the chill, murmuring his dead mother’s songs and savouring the wind’s bite on his cheek. He would fly through the courtyards, answering the wolves with Kûniüric war-cries, brandishing weapons that staggered him with their weight. And once in a while, his eyes wide with hope and superstitious dread, he would poke the dead with his father’s sword.When the snows broke, shouts brought him to Ishuäl’s forward gate. Peering through dark embrasures, he saw a group of cadaverous men and women – refugees of the Apocalypse. Glimpsing his shadow, they cried out for food, shelter, anything, but the boy was too terrified to reply. Hardship had made them look fearsome – feral, like a wolf people.When they began scaling the walls, he fled to the galleries. Like the Bardic Priest, they searched for him, calling out guarantees of his safety. Eventually, one of them found him cringing behind a barrel of sardines. With a voice neither tender nor harsh, he said: “We are Dûnyain, child. What reason could you have to fear us?”But the boy clutched his father’s sword, crying, “So long as men live, there are crimes!”The man’s eyes filled with wonder. “No, child,” he said. “Only so long as men are deceived.”For a moment, the young Anasûrimbor could only stare at him. Then solemnly, he set aside his father’s sword and took the stranger’s hand. “I was a prince,” he mumbled.The stranger brought him to the others, and together they celebrated their strange fortune. They cried out – not to the Gods they had repudiated but to one another – that here was evident a great correspondence of cause. Here awareness most holy could be tended. In Ishuäl, they had found shelter against the end of the world.Still emaciated but wearing the furs of kings, the Dûnyain chiselled the sorcerous runes from the walls and burned the Grandvizier’s books. The jewels, the chalcedony, the silk and cloth-of-gold, they buried with the corpses of a dynasty.And the world forgot them for two thousand years.

[Dankan Ajdaho]

I meni.

+ Leva ruka tame. Remek delo.Ursula je možda "najljudskiji" pisac kog sam čitao.

[kim_philby]

Друг Дарко са својим педигреом не сумњам да пише тако, но како да се тумачи то да је сам Фића покушавао да уобличи наставак у коме алтернативни светови постоје. Они који су ревизионизам довели до савршенства, оптужују друге за исти...диковски је то. ;)

sam ti ja kriv sto ave justin nije pisao o diku :D

[harper lee]

+ Leva ruka tame. Remek delo.Ursula je možda "najljudskiji" pisac kog sam čitao.

Interesantan epitet. Legvinova zaista ima specifican senzibilitet medju SF piscima, ponekad kad se bavi nekim ljudskim slabostima ume da udari kao maljem.Pisao sam vec ovo ali ako je neko propustio da ponovim. Ludi, nadjite Ursulinu pricu "Oni koji napustaju Omelas" i procitajte je, ima par strana. Mislim da potresniju, bizarniju, svedeniju i uzasniju kratku analizu ljudske prirode u zivotu nisam procitao. Kad sam je prvi put procitao bio sam bolestan nedelju dana.

[Weenie Pooh]

Pisao sam vec ovo ali ako je neko propustio da ponovim. Ludi, nadjite Ursulinu pricu "Oni koji napustaju Omelas" i procitajte je, ima par strana. Mislim da potresniju, bizarniju, svedeniju i uzasniju kratku analizu ljudske prirode u zivotu nisam procitao. Kad sam je prvi put procitao bio sam bolestan nedelju dana.

To je onaj Dostojevski rip-off? :Phttp://www.galvinfamily.org/philosophy_education/phil20/readings/leguin/omelas.htm