Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury (1953)

Bradbury's classic work is still a delight to read.  I read it years ago and decided to pull it off the shelf and take another look to see if it had held up over the years.  And it certainly did!  His writing is lyrical and delightful, as always.  Guy Montag, the fireman who burns books instead of (as his new quirky neighbour, the young Clarisse tells him) saving things from burning, begins to come apart at the seams not long after Clarisse asks him if he is happy.  Still a chilling read after 50 years!

Coraline, by Neil Gaiman (2002)

Gaiman's Nebula Award winning novella, Coraline, is a delightfully scary and exquisitely written children's story (that's right, a book for kids), which I could not put down!  Coraline, a strong, quirky heroine, who dislikes it when her Dad fixes up "recipes" for dinner, unlocks a door in their flat that leads to another home just like hers, but populated with "the other mother" and "the other father" who want her to stay with them forever, and who want to change her so that she'll be just like them, with black button eyes and hair that wriggles like snakes.  (Yikes!)  Coraline fights to save herself, her real parents, and the souls of three children trapped in the other house.  I love this book!.

American Gods, by Neil Gaiman (2001)

The opening chapter of Gaiman's Nebula Award winning novel drips with impending doom for Shadow, Gaiman's convict protagonist, and the tension is delicious.  After the reveal--Shadow's wife has just died in a car accident (don't worry, it was on the back cover)--the novel, for me, loses and never regains any sense of tension or purpose.  I enjoyed the meandering read, though, following Shadow through his seemingly purposeless adventures, meeting the ailing gods and goddesses brought to America by long-dead immigrants and all but forgotten, yet I never seemed to be able to care much what happened to poor Shadow.  Might just be my prejudice against protagonists who are convicts but really good guys (yawn); might also be that the lifelessness that stalls Shadow's own life infects the heart of the story itself.  An enjoyable read, but unfortunately nothing surprising really happens.

Oryx and Crake, by Margaret Atwood (2003)

Atwood's novel geysered a foment of controversy in writing and criticism circles across Canada, from Peter Watts' searing editorial in On Spec to MacLean's on-its-knees adoration.  As a long-time fan of Atwood's work (I especially loved The Handmaid's Tale), I had been looking forward to the read.  I must say, though, that many of the criticisms the SF writing community, at least in Canada, has piled on Atwood for Oryx and Crake are not unfounded.  As SF it is a straightforward and rather simple depiction of a near future; as a novel, it's about 150 pages too long (pretty much the first 150 pages, too).  It starts slowly, in that typical Atwood style, delineating the backstory of Snowman's childhood, and suffers far too much from the author drawing the reader's attention to the novums, (a là Brian Stableford) she has invented for the infrastructure of her tale. And the story ends, in typical literary short-story fashion, with Snowman facing a decision with the proverbial fade-to-black occurring just before he chooses, leaving the reader in the dark, so to speak (again, good for short stories, not so satisfying for a novel).  In interviews Atwood has argued that Oryx and Crake is not science fiction; however, no matter which rose colored glasses you want to look through, Oryx and Crake is science fiction, and not very well done science fiction at that.  Interesting, yes; gripping, no.

Chindi, by Jack McDermitt (2002)

I haven't read an SF novel this good since Peter Watts' Maelstrom. Chindi is what the best SF is all about:  that ineffable sense of wonder, the indomitable human spirit, and our deep-seated need, it seems, to see what's over the next hill.  The main character, Priscilla ("Hutch") Hutchins , the captain of a superluminal starship, is ordinary and believable--my favorite kind of protagonist--and is used to leading a rather quiet life, transporting goods and people between routine destinations.  When Hutch is contracted to take members of the Contact Society to a neutron star to track down a signal believed to be of extraterrestrial origin, the journey leads to a handful of previously unknown worlds, and finally, to an immense object that may contain the answers to the puzzle they have been trying to solve. The writing is sharp; the story is riveting.  I rarely get pulled into a book like I used to when I was fourteen, when the world I knew would disappear and I'd live the story.  Chindi is that kind of read!

A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush, by Eric Newby (1958)

My good friend and world-traveler, Randy Harris, sent me this 1958 travel book, a piece of amazingly funny and eccentric British literature. Two friends, with no experience or expertise, one who works with the British Foreign Service, and the other (the author) a salesman in the women's fashion industry, decide to journey to Nuristan (a place noted on their maps but not actually mapped out!) just beyond the borders of  Afghanistan.  Their tale is both amazing and bewildering.  I finished it wondering how in Heaven's name these two men survived.  Between inexperience and outright stupidity their journey had tragedy slathered all over it.  But a comedy it is, of errors, of folly, and of downright stubborn determination.

Bradbury's collection was, as I had anticipated, a delight to read.  One of my all-time beloved authors, Bradbury never fails to affirm life's fullness and goodness in his fiction.  My favorite story in this collection is the closing piece, "Colonel Stonesteel's Genuine Home-made Truly Egyptian Mummy," set in Bradbury's mythical Green Town, Illinois.  A bored boy and an aged colonel collaborate to add some zip to their town by planting a home-made mummy in a cornfield, then later making the mummy rise and walk before the Sheriff's very eyes, and vanish into the night, creating a lovely Green Town hullabaloo.  When all is said and done, young Charlie asks the Colonel what he should do with the mummy:  "Well, then Charles, when you are very old, you must find some lad, not as lucky as you, to give Osiris-Ra to.  Your life may be full, but others, lost on the road, will need our Egyptian friend.  Agreed?  Agreed."  It seems to me that Bradbury's fiction, like that mummy, is just what a lad or lass of any age lost on the road truly needs.

Survivor, by Octavia E. Butler (1978) 

An enjoyable earlier Butler novel, her third, set on a distant planet where a colony of Earth Missionaries, which left Earth to escape the clayark plague and resulting violence, are caught between two warring indigenous civilizations, one which welcomed and ultimately enslaved them, and the other which has raided their town, killing many and kidnapping a young woman, Alanna, who becomes the key to the Missionaries' freedom.  A smart look at prejudice and loyalty, in Butler's no-holds-barred storytelling style.  Not as engaging as Clay's Ark or The Parable of the Sower, but definitely a good read.

Ape and Essence, by Aldous Huxley (1948)

Strange and brilliant, weird and wonderful.  Took me a couple of attempts, but then I realized I needed my thinking cap, Oxford dictionary, Romantic poetry text, The Complete Signet Classic Shakespeare, and my Classical Dictionary on hand for a truly civilized read.  Mostly the book is a strange screenplay introduced by a frame--which, it turns out, is never revisited once the screenplay starts.  The screenplay examines a future California in 2108, in a world ruled by followers of Belial, after atomic and biological warfare has decimated most of the planet.  Ape and Essence is a post-World War II satire, written with the aftermath of Hiroshima terrifyingly in mind, and with a bitterness of heart that left me stunned--and rather frightened--at how little things have changed since 1948.  A must read.

A Dancing Matrix:  How Science Confronts Emerging Viruses, by Robin Marantz Henig (1993)

Written for the layperson, I found this popular book on emerging viruses very accessible.  Henig's writing is well-paced and contains enough science to make the concepts and issues she's presenting understandable.  From her primer on viruses to her essay on influenza, Henig keeps her exposition focused on why and how new viruses, or variations of nasty old viruses, emerge.  I'm no scientist, but if this kind of stuff had been taught in high school way back when, I might have been!