words by jace.
this is a single-entry archive page. click above for the now thing.
The
book I am currently reading which least resembles the other books I
am currently reading is without a doubt Ted Chiang's Stories of
Your Life and Others. Science fiction but it feels like
reading Borges or having someone patiently explaing a complex physics
concept, unraveling the knots in your mind so you understand -- then
marvel at -- the explanation. Yet when they leave you find that
you can't explain it to anybody else.
The
twining of fantastically logical concepts and emotional sensitivity
urge his best plots forward. Every story I've read so far ends with a
quiet
revelatory firework, that precise slipknot of surprise short story
writers grasp for, usually missing. Formally elegant and steely. And
all while stuff is happening which could only happen in fiction; he
runs with the possibilities offered by the form.
Science fiction but instead of writing about what the aliens look like or do or whatever, Chiang is concerned with -- for example -- how learning an alien language & internalizing the worldview it presupposes affects a linguist's grasp of time, teleology, and her relationship with her daughter.
I remember when you'll be a month old, and I'll stumble out of bed to give you your 2:00 AM feeding. ... The word "infant" is derived from the Latin word for "unable to speak" but you'll be perfectly capable of saying one thing: "I suffer," and you'll do it tirelessly and without hesitation. I have to admire your utter commitment to that statement; when you cry you'll become outrage incarnate, every fiber of your body employed in expressing that emotion. It's funny: when you're tranquil, you will seem to radiate light, and if someone were to paint a portrait of you like that, I'd insist that they include the halo. But when you're unhappy, you will become a klaxon, built for radiating sound; a portrait of you then could simply be a fire alarm bell.
At that stage of your life, there'll be no past or future for you; until I give you my breast, you'll have no memory of contentment in the past nor expectation of relief in the future. Once you begin nursing, everything will reverse, and all will be right with the world. NOW is the only moment you'll perceive; you'll live in the presence tense. In many ways, it's an enviable state. ... Freedom isn't an illusion; it's perfectly real in the context of sequential consciousness. Within the context of simultaneously consciousness, freedom is not meaningful, but neither is coercion; it's simply a different context, no more or less valid that the other.
Of
course, quoting Chiang isn't so useful since it is his form and flow
and the meat of his ideas that we feast on; the more of it you can
hold in your head at once the better it gets. As of 2002, he earned a
living writing technical documentation for computer programmers. His
published ouevre consists of 8 short stories.
Here's one of them:
Division
by Zero.
*
So,-- Is the rabbit hungry (a pet presumably, or maybe a lab animal), or it is time for people to carve up the dead animal on their dinner plates?
893 () (URL) - ноември 17 2005
The rabbit is ready to eat. We know because we are closely monitoring his salivation. The rabbit has learned that the Mudd blog always feeds him well. Reading that Ted Chiang story was especially rewarding -- moreso than the total number of carrots which have ever passed through Paul Wall's mouth (lyrically, dietarally, gemologically, etc.).- - - - - - - -
AK (URL) - ноември 18 2005
As for carrots, please see link...- - - - - - - -
Shuko - декември 5 2005
Ted Chiand writes so perfectly is scary. It's above-avarage SF, to say the least. If you liked Chiang I'de recommend Greg Egan (Axiomatic, for instance). It's maybe a little less accessible reading, but really mind-blowing, brain-hurting Sfiction.- - - - - - - -