Showing posts with label Arthur C. Clarke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arthur C. Clarke. Show all posts

Saturday, 10 January 2026

2025 Reading Round-Up

 

Ten years since Bowie died

Last year was a curious year, with 90% of my books packed away in piles of boxes while our new house was being built. I kept a select few out, ready to read, but, of course, quickly added to that number via digs in second hand bookstores in Perth and Melbourne and in op shops in Subiaco. This situation led to me reading one of my many long-held books, A Landing on the Sun (1991) by Michael Frayn, which I deliberately left out of the boxes in order to finally read it, and I’m pleased that I did. This novel didn’t end up as the best book of the year, however, that honour goes to what is considered to be a perfect novel, Stoner (1965) by John Williams. A beautiful, brilliant novel that everyone should read. Another great discovery was Paul Auster, an author I had long known about, but it took finding Leviathan (1992) in an op-shop for me to finally read him. Once again, thoroughly recommended. I also managed make progress in my Martin Amis project, with Money (1984) coming close to being my book of the year, and the short story collection, Einstein’s Monsters (1987) being a worthy read. I finally got around to reading one of the classics I’d long wanted to read, Childhood’s End (1953) by the great Arthur C. Clarke, which didn’t disappoint. City (1952) by Clifford D. Simak also falls under that classification.


Stoner - book of the year

It was great year for reading generally, with some great books resulting from the library book club; Our Evenings (2024) by Alan Hollinghurst, There are Rivers in the Sky (2024) by Elif Shafak and Stoner being notable examples. As aways there were some lesser books, with Dark Magus (2006) by Gregory Davis being the worst, a poorly written account of being Miles Davis oldest son, which was fascinating, but hamstrung by repetition and cliché. Stars in my Pocket like Grains of Sand (1984) by the eccentrically brilliant Samual R. Delany was a mild disappointment; it was complex and unique, but ultimately a bit pedestrian. Still, I’m pleased to have read it and the same can be said for many of the others I read in the last year, an adventure as always. This year promises a better organised personal library when I unpack all of my books and organise more shelving, you can’t just have piles of books balanced against walls in the corner of the room in a new house can you? Who knows what literary adventures await…?


Addenda: So, why a picture of Bowie on this post? Well, it's the ten year anniversary of his passing - 10th January 2016, he was a renowned lover of books and literature, a great lyricist and cultural mavin. Besides, I read a Bowie book this past year, We Could Be...Bowie and his Heroes (2021) by Tom Hagler, so that makes it legit!



Monday, 3 March 2025

Childhood's End - Arthur C. Clarke (1953)

 

Rating: Excellent

It's been some twenty five years since I last read Arthur C. Clarke's work. As a teenager and beyond I must have read at least a dozen of his novels, but I never got around to reading Childhood's End. Somehow I even missed out on encountering any hint regarding its plot or themes, and for that I am grateful. It has long been regarded as a true science fiction masterpiece, despite many of its tropes becoming science fiction cliches in the ensuing decades. Essentially an alien invasion narrative, Childhood's End begins with the space race, but not that one, instead it begins with an opening chapter that Clarke rewrote in 1990, replacing a competitive cold war race to land on the moon, with a united effort to reach Mars in the twenty-first century; until it is interrupted by the arrival of massive alien spacecraft that hover over the major cities of the world. Sounds familiar? Such a scenario has been played out countless times, particularly in the TV series V (1983, 1984-85) and the godawful movie, Independence Day (1996). Fortunately Clarke's approach is far more subtle, intelligent, philosophical and powerful. The aliens remain hidden for the first third of the novel, instead they direct humanity from behind the scenes into a utopian age in which all suffering ceases and world peace endures. I'd forgotten just how good Clarke's writing was, he was certainly stylistically sound, but more significantly he really knew how to build suspense and create an expectation that the secrets that are bubbling away under the surface would be worth the wait. This is exactly how it played out for me, not knowing the true nature of the aliens, dubbed the 'Overlords' by humanity, the reveal that arrives a third of the way through the novel was impactful and satisfying. 

Arthur C. Clarke - master of suspense

Childhood's End contains themes that Clarke would explore later in his career, but here the notion of a transcendent higher power comes with definite uncertainty as to just how benevolent it really is, unlike 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), in which there seems to be a no stings attached evolutionary assist from higher powers. The Overlords themselves appear consistently benevolent throughout, however Clarke gives subtle hints as to what is really going on throughout the novel. When an Overlord known as Rashaverak attends a party at the residence of a man called Rupert Boyce and is found to be perusing his large collection of books on the paranormal, you can't help but be intrigued as to what is really going on. Clarke takes his time to let the reader in on the secret, something some modern readers can get impatient about, perhaps confirmed by some of the comments on Goodreads, with a couple of readers remarking that the novel is "tedious to get through". Actually the novel is perfectly paced, with the reveals regarding the Overlord's planet of origin, their ultimate role in Earth's fate and the nature of that fate itself, coming as well timed rewards for a little bit of patience. Childhood's End is an almost perfect science fiction novel and is rightly regarded as Clarke's best, it was also the moment when Clarke broke through as a novelist, both critically and commercially. On completion I was left with feelings of both wonder, and a nameless dread. Despite the unscientific paranormal elements Clarke utilises in the novel, the hard science aspects are sound, and given what we now know about the nature of the universe (that most of what is going on in the cosmos is a total mystery), the notion that we could at some stage be ultimately confronted by the shocking truth of the true nature of existence is not beyond the realms of possibility.