It seems that Robert Jordan is balancing the odd books of the Wheel of Time series series with the even ones. The first and the third books were kind of black and white, little grey in between, all good characters fighting the evil. Now, the second and the fourth seem to be more ambivalent. Does that mean that the fifth will be again a bipolar epic battle? I'm ready to find out! [grin]

In The Shadow Rising there are four different main stories that have little to do with one another, all happening simultaneously. There is the Rand arch, going to Rhuidean to fulfil the prophecies, accompanied by Mat, Eqwene, Moraine and the Aiel; there is Perrin, going back to Two Rivers to protect it from Ordeith, Whitecloaks and hordes of Trollocs; Elayne and Nynaeve are hunting Black Ajah; finally, the White Tower itself has some major problems.

The book was certainly entertaining, although not particularly deep. A lot of complex characters are relegated to doing cliché work, like Thom, for example. A large part of the book is focused on Perrin, while Mat is all but ignored. My favourite character Lanfear appears from time to time, too. Rand does weird things, making us wonder if he has lost his mind or just has a plan, but neither his companion nor the readers know what that might be. I liked the Egeanin bit of the girls story, but I can't tell you more for fear of spoiling it. Some really flashy and important battles are being carried out by different characters, although they are more literary show than substance, as battles go.

All in all, a reasonable continuation of the series. I think I am safe by now in saying that Wheel of Time is addressed to adolescents and will probably not evolve to something further to the end of the saga. Still fun, though.

The Dragon Reborn relapses into the problems of the first book in the Wheel of Time series: there are good or bad characters, light and dark and the only true unknown (and most exciting as well) is Lanfear. The rest of the book is how all the characters level up dramatically to the point that none of them can pretend to cling to their small village roots. Rand is the Dragon, Perrin is a wolf, Mat is the reincarnation of a Manetheren hero, the girls are the most powerful girl power users in centuries, etc. If anything, the losers of this book are Loial and the Aes Sedai with their Warders, as it seems none of their long life, experience and training matter in the face of ta'veren-ness.

That doesn't mean that the book is not interesting, quite the opposite, it is certainly more epic, although in the same way the other two were (I am beginning to see a Pattern, heh heh) as the pressure builds and builds towards an ending that feels rushed. It's like sex after too much foreplay: is that it?

The bottom line is that Robert Jordan's series has captured my imagination, with all its clichés and great prophecies and noble heroes. I did hope for something more complex, but then again, life is not like a book and there are level-downs as well. There is still a chance the next book will be as intelligent as it is flamboyant, though.

I have to admit, the quality has increased dramatically in both writing and storyline in this second part of the Wheel of Time series. Robert Jordan's The Great Hunt follows our heroes in their quest to heal Mat, deliver the Horn of Valere and escape the endless machinations of the Aes Sedai.

I was saying in the review of the first book, The Eye of the World, that the story was ridiculously black and white, reminiscent of Lord of the Rings. The Great Hunt features good and evil Aes Sedai, sympathetic Darkfriends, political Cairhienians that see every action (or lack thereof) as a move in The Great Game of lords and not less than three new major threats, not counting the Black Aes Sedai, as well as parallel worlds, resurrected heroes and epic battles. So there is a good range of shades of grey, washing away the simplicity with which the series started. The characters gain volume, developing in their own unique ways.

There are some issues, though. Rand is exhibiting wonderful skill and ability exactly when needed, being pretty much clueless most of the time. Women again appear rather one sided: proud, intelligent, manipulative and always in some way of authority over men. The "The wheel spins as the wheel wills" quote is used way too much and the blatant logical hole ignored: if it does, then no one needs to get involved in anything, especially the Aes Sedai. Nynaeve find a new strength and acts more like a Wisdom and less like a scared little girl.

So I am caught up in this. Too interested to start reading the tech book I was planning and too much work at the office to really feel the need to. Let's see how the next book in the series will be.

The Eye of the World is the first book in the series called The Wheel of Time, by Robert Jordan. Written in 1983, it is very similar to Lord of the Rings. It features a complex world of nations and races with their own languages and cool sounding names, a battle of good light versus evil dark that is so ridiculously polarized that at first I thought I couldn't finish the book, a party of different people in which the main character is a poor country sheppard boy, a quest that has the goal of saving the world via a long trek of personal transformation.

Actually, if I think about it, it seems almost entirely inspired by Lord of the Rings, with none of the innovations that appeared since playing any effect except maybe The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, when describing the Blight. Something that is clearly different in the book is the role of women.

While Tolkien had them placed high on a pedestal, queens and princesses that were supposed to inspire men but not be touched, Jordan presents them as important members of the party, with Moraine, the "wizard", holding most of the authority. Actually, it goes further than that, giving all women characters an almost indomitable ability to influence men. Only one female in the entire book is evil, and that for a very brief period of time, and none of them are weak in any way. It doesn't even matter much that The One Power has two sides, one female and one male, and that the male is tainted by The Dark One. Even if they would have magical power, men are doomed to be ruled by women in The Eye of the World and probably the rest of the books.

The evil Shai'tan is a dark entity with burning eyes and eternal rage, imprisoned yet powerful, corrupting everything he touches, while the power that opposes him is white pure light that heals, purifies and avenges. The only shred of ambiguity comes in the shape of The Children of the Light, a warrior sect dedicated to fight evil, but that are nothing more than pompous gang members that define evil as anything they don't like.

All and all the book was pleasant enough and, being December, I plan on reading at least the next book in the series before I start with a technical one. However, it doesn't come close to most of the books I've read recently. The simple design and clear inspiration is probably the reason why they want to adapt the story to television, now that the likes of Game of Thrones have shown the model successful. If the quality of the books does not improve in time, it may be so that it would be more effective to wait for the films instead of reading the book. Then again, I will make up my mind after I've read more. I have hope.

This book touches a very uncomfortable subject for me: the mindless, visceral hive mind of the crowd. There is nothing more horrible, I find, that being powerless in front of a mob of people united by only their stupidity and fear. Lord of the Flies is the archetypal book about this subject. It tells the story of a bunch of British kids stranded on a small island without any adult supervision. They create a parody of human society which ultimately fails horribly towards the end.

The book is short, but to the point. Sections of it are almost unbearable to read, not because it features monsters or supernatural creatures, but because you feel deep inside that it is the truth, that these things happen and that they do because of something deep inside each of us.

The only failing of the book, I feel, is that Jack and Roger are portrayed as classical psychopaths and it is clear from the beginning that one cannot empathise with them. A slightly longer story that would have made the effort to make these characters slightly likeable would have had an even deeper impact. In that case, I fear, the book would have become completely unbearable. People need their illusions about the society around them; shattering them completely would not do.

This book is a must read for any student of human psychology and one of the best books to reference at parties to make you look smarter than you are :-) I've actually read the book because I was doing that too much, but had only seen the movie. I wonder if I should get other works from William Golding, since I liked this one so much.

I was looking for autobiographies, since I liked quite a few of them lately and I felt like more, and so I got two. One is interesting because it is finally in print after 100 years since the author's death. I am talking about the first volume of Mark Twain's biography. However, I really could not make myself read it: the language was so pompous and the content so lame that I felt pain trying to.

Not so the second book, which seemed even more unlikely for me to like it: THE PLEASURES OF STATISTICS: The Autobiography of Frederick Mosteller, but which I did. It started with a few projects that Fred Mosteller participated in, explaining the day to day concerns and situations of a statistician while working on them. I thought at first that the book is going to be all like this, so after about a third I was about to abandon the read. You see, it was all very interesting from a professional statistician's point of view, but I wanted the more personal viewpoint of the man. And so I got it. Suddenly the book changed pace and went with the early life and education of Mosteller. The end of the book again covered some cases of work, but this time with a personal touch that explained the motivation behind the acts. And finally, the editor's epilogue, written from testimonies of friends and colleagues.

In this review, a Theodore M. Porter argues that the autobiography was flawed, as it covered little of his family life and couldn't reconcile the different viewpoints that appeared in the book, like the scientific and personal. But I disagree. The autobiography was unfinished and I guess the editor did the best he could with what he had, but it couldn't have been a lot different from what Mosteller himself intended. You start with the actual work: statistics, explained in layman's terms, then you continue with the actual man, explaining the origins and education, then you get back to statistics, but examining the work from the personal viewpoint of the man described. Yes, he could have written about his family more, but it wouldn't have been about statistics. The little he does write about his wife is about how supportive she was throughout his career. And yes, the tone of the book is a bit clinical, but this is how the writer actually thought like; he was a scientist in the true sense of the word and I liked this book exactly because it made me understand how such a man thinks and feels.

Even more than the structure of the book and the insight in the mind of a conscientious and brilliant scientist what I liked most is the peek at the world in the middle of the 20th century and how strikingly different it was from what we see today. The concerns of a teacher towards the best method to get his students to understand and like the subject, the way people were getting together to solve problems and worked for years on a book or bunch of science papers, the way academia was also supportive, not only political, and most of all, to see how people can be both brilliant and empathic, both clinical in science and warm in person.

I wouldn't recommend this book to everyone. I had a hard time reading it to the end and paying attention to every bit. Nor should one study it like a school manual, because as far as I see, the book is about a man's soul and you only have to understand and feel that. Whether it is because of my autobiography fad or because I resonated with the man or for some other reason, the bottom line is that I enjoyed reading the book. Maybe you will too.

The complete title of the book is How Life Imitates Chess: Making the Right Moves, from the Board to the Boardroom, which is a mouthful, but very precise. It does explain how principles of chess, economics and politics apply in all three fields and how Garry Kasparov has evolved from chess player to world champion and, nowadays, into a political anti-Putin figure.

If you ask me, abandoning chess to get into business and worse, politics, it's a complete loss. However I do understand the guy, he got bored. Someday I may abandon computer programming.

Back to the book, though, it felt a lot like The Art of Learning, also written by a brilliant chess player (who incidentally also abandoned chess... hmm). It was more precise, most logical, though, looking at things from a more of a clinical perspective. I would have wanted to learn more about Kasparov's relationship with Karpov, for example, since he is always calling him his nemesis, but never says anything about how he felt about the guy.

This book is peppered with good advice, historic comparisons and great quotes from chess players and great men. Also, short descriptions of the relationship between famous "chess pairs" are giving the book an extra chess dimension. All in all I recommend it highly, although it felt more like a useful reference than a soul book like The Art of Learning.

Geek Love is another title that mislead me. Geek, in this book, refers to the original definition of the word "A carnival performer who does wild or disgusting acts" and not a cool lovable geek as myself. The subject is "controversial": the life of an albino hunchbacked dwarf woman as a member of a carnival family.

There is a lot going on in the book. Carnival people poison themselves in order to make their children as freaky as possible. Said children are then raised only if they are strange enough. The failures are either preserved in glass jars if they are too mutated, or given away if they are too normal. The successes range from the main character, to a sociopath hairless cult leader with flippers instead of members, to siamese sisters that have the same lower body to a telekinetic God like child who only wants to be loved and gets manipulated into doing stuff for others. The sisters later give birth to a grotesquely obese child, fathered by a man with half his face blown up who squirts inside their vagina in his death moment. The death and the face blowing are unrelated. There is more, like a rich heiress who pays beautiful women to mutilate themselves in order to have a better life, unencumbered by the sexual desire of her subjects or of the people surrounding them.

The book itself was pretty innovative, but rather boring. If I had an alternative, I wouldn't have finished it, but as I had not, I am a bit proud of having finished it. If nothing else, the book is strange enough to be interesting. Also the writing is pretty good, introverted, taking the reader inside the mind of a person who considers normal people too bland and treasures her deformity and that of her daughter, fathered through telekinesis with the sperm of her brother.

Don't get me wrong, it was not painful reading the book and I do not regret having reading it. However I wish there was something more interesting in the story other than the strangeness of one's thoughts.

The Sparrow is, in my opinion, a good example of politics in literature, as it won several prestigious prizes, but is, in my own view, slightly above average. To quickly summarize the book, it's a Jesuit meets New World story, only the plot is set in the future and the new world is another planet.

Maybe I am just bitter because after tedious chapters about the relationships between the characters, the sci-fi was minimal and outdated. In fact, the author herself admitted that the kind of story she wanted to write could not be set on Earth because there are no new worlds here; this leads me to believe that the sci-fi was incidental and it bloody feels that way, too.

I will give credit where it is due, though. The woman documented herself well and presented interesting characters in great detail. Also the story itself is pretty solid, albeit a bit boring and focused too much on the religious. Other than that, it felt like a 1960's book. I was shocked to see that it was published in 1996. Some of the technical details described in the book were outdated even then.

About the plot, a discreet mission to a nearby planet is organized by the Jesuits, because all the other players in the field like the United Nation are too bureaucratic and talk about it more than actually doing something. The story starts with the return of the only survivor, priest Emilio Sandoz, and then the book continues with back and forth lines of now and then. The ending felt rushed and a bit anticlimactic. Maybe I was just not in an empathetic mood and couldn't care less about the religious and cultural sensitivities of the people involved and from all the characters, only Jimmy, the tall technical guy, felt agreeable. Who would have guessed? :)

Bottom line: I will not read the sequel book and that should say a lot. The book is not bad, though, and I may be berating it too much. A thing is certain, this is at the lower edge of the sci-fi scale, regardless of writing quality.

Update: In lack of a good book to read, I started on Children of God, the sequel to The Sparrow. Russell's talent for tedium, futile philosophy and rape fantasies reaches new heights in this book, so much that I just couldn't finish it. I usually finish watching movies and reading books even if they are bad, just for the experiential value alone, but I couldn't do it with this one. You have the same pointless priest, wallowing in self pity and then pathetically letting himself be used again, all the time asserting that he won't. And just so the reader would have no thoughts that the man could find a way out, a chapter of one of his kidnappers getting old on Rakhat, smack in the middle of the book, erases that possibility. What would be the point of reading on? Just for the ridiculous discussions about different Gods between random people? No. Just avoid this one.

When I was a child I watched with huge eyes movies like Hackers, enjoying the shenanigans of computer rebels fighting the stupid law enforcement and the "evil" hackers. Of course, there was also Angelina Jolie. Even then I knew that my pleasure was a guilty one: no way could the police be that stupid, no way it would be that easy to penetrate all kinds of systems and produce effects so flashy. A while after that I watched Skeet Ulrich in the movie Operation Takedown, which was a more realistic hacker movie (and one I think Skeet did a great job in). It depicted how Kevin Mitnick has been apprehended by the authorities. I really loved that movie, although it had a lot of eye rolling moments.



Fast forward to now, reading Ghost in the Wires, Kevin Mitnick's book about himself, practically a hacking autobiography, and I loved this book every bit as much as I liked those movies as a kid. Not only I couldn't leave the book out of my hands once I started reading it, but was shocked to see that reality is not that far away from what was depicted in hacking movies. It was also interesting to read how the script of Operation Takedown came to be, which Kevin considers defamatory and mostly untrue.



Long story short, Mitnick is a smart kid with a great memory, an absent father and no real friends. He starts dabbling with radio and telephones and manages to get access to phone systems way before computers where personal or connected to each other. He's a kid, though, and he gets caught a few times. Nobody seems to understand he does it just for the fun of it and he can't seem to understand why nobody gets him. In the end, pushed by the desire to challenge himself, but also by authorities baiting him all the time, he becomes a life long hacker and eventually gets caught.



A shocking part of the book is how easy it is to penetrate any system, not by whatever technical wizardry, but by simply tricking people into giving you information and access. Called "social engineering" it was Mitnick's strongest point and at several times in the book, when the technology would not allow him to enter one system or another, he would just abandon the tech stuff and go with tricking people. Already having knowledge on how to manipulate phone systems made that a lot easier, as well.



Another, less shocking, but utterly disappointing part is about authorities. Just as they are now about file sharing and whatever "crisis" they are in, law enforcement agencies are basing their entire existence on pure power of coercion, ignoring the rules that they themselves are enforcing and being motivated only by keeping that power in their hands. Technical morons, they only seem to be getting into the action when their pride is affected. In this book Kevin Mitnick dances around security personnel, local cops, FBI, NSA several steps ahead of them, but they only seem to really mind when newspapers start publishing articles that makes law enforcement look bad. And once they have him, caught only with the help of other hackers, they are using all the dirty tricks in the book to bring Mitnick to his knees. Nothing has changed from then to now, just look at cases like Gary McKinnon's. Intimidation is a bully's greatest strength. That's sad.



I would have to say that the most unexpected thing was the tone of the book, which is almost exuberant. Mitnick has not become a bitter and paranoid man after countless personal betrayals and authority abuse and he is not angry at all. If anything, the guy is happy to have lived as the lead actor in the "Myth of Kevin Mitnick", which has grown way bigger than the real person. There is a scene when he gets outside of a building and there are hundreds of fans there, shouting, and he looks behind to see if there is a celebrity around.



Bottom line: this is a book you can't miss. It is easy to read to the point of instantly addictive, it is well written with enough juicy technical details to keep one interested and, most of all, makes you feel good, even in the horrible moments of his detention. It makes one wonder, did Mitnick socially engineer himself into remaining an open and cool guy in the face of adversity? Or is it he had this strength all along and that is his most powerful "magic"?

I've always felt that a lot of movies and books lack realism, that when the hero survives and gets the girl, while the villains get their rightful punishment the whole story becomes null and void. Therefore I believed that the opposite of this - a character centric plot, a realistic story, unexpected outcomes - would spell a good story and wonderful books/movies. Such is the tale in A Song of Ice and Fire, the seven (until now) book saga that I am currently reading, in which A Dance with Dragons is the fifth book.



Imagine my surprise in discovering that the other extreme is just as bad. In ASOIAF, there is no real main character. A lot of heroes and villains to choose from, but, completely unexpected, heroes suffer and die, while villain prevail. Maybe it's the other way around. Maybe nobody truly prevails. Certainly they all suffer. So what is wrong with this picture? George R. R. Martin went too far. His tale is now more of an alternative history than a true story. Maybe the sixth book will be different, but how can it be and still remain faithful to the first five? How can it continue the way the story went so far without a pointless struggle, where random things happen to random people? I mean, if I like this, I should start reading history books. My father would be pleased, I am sure :)



A Dance with Dragons takes place in a period in time that mostly overlaps the fourth book. The author acknowledged that there were too many characters doing too much in that short amount of time and, rather than split the storyline in the middle and create the "left hanging" effect, he opted for a geographical (more or less) division of the plot.



I liked the book. It started with a lot of setup, and that is what most of the book is about, but it also got deeper into magic and Arya's assassin training and what Jon and Tyrion did. I would say they are my favourite characters so, in that respect, the fifth book is better than the fourth. Can't say more about it without ruining the fun, but I was not disappointed, only slightly annoyed to see that what I really wanted in a book I got and I was still not completely satisfied.



My theory is that the stern characters in the book represent Martin's own father, while Tyrion and Jon are reflections of his own persona. Sansa may be the clueless girl who broke his heart, while Arya would be his daughter or younger sibling. I am just theorizing here, as I have not read any bio information of the author. Perhaps he represented himself as Wun Wun :)



I am waiting for the sixth book to appear, but the second book in the saga appeared two years after the first, the third two years later, then five years, then six! At this rate the sixth book will be published in 2018, with Martin of 70 years of age and waiting for the seventh eight or nine years later.

Kary Mullis is a chemist who, in 1983, invented Polimerase Chain Reaction, something that would revolutionize DNA analysis in terms of increased speed. He won the 1993 Nobel prize for that. He also is a controversial scientist who claims possible alien encounters and telepathy, denies global warming as an effect of human intervention, is skeptic about HIV causing AIDS and generally believes that most scientists are inventing reasons to get funded rather than doing anything scientific. He also admits smoking pot, taking LSD and generally experimenting with any mind altering chemical that he can make. He likes women and some of them like him. That is what this book is all about, a sort of "I am Kary Mullis, hear me roar!".

I started reading the book because I was falsely led to believe that he describes how training his mind with LSD lead him to the idea of PCR. The book is not about that at all, and if the article above is true about Mullis had an advantage over his colleagues: he had trained his brain to think differently by using hallucinogenic drugs, there is no mention of that in this book.

It is simply an autobiography, but written with gusto and sincerity. Some of the things he says are both logical and hard to accept (because so many others are of opposite views), some of them are simply personal beliefs. As many a talented person, he is intelligent, he had early opportunity to practice his passion (chemistry), a close friend to share it with and support from a local chemistry business owner who kind of adopted him for the summers and gave him the tools he needed to grow. The way he writes his book reminds me of the style of another scientist friend of mine: devoid of bullshit and intolerant of stupidity.

Bottom line, it is a nice book, simply written, short, I've read it in a few hours. It is a window in the life of an interesting person, and as such, I liked it. I can't say I've learned much from it, though, and that is somewhat of a disappointment coming from a book written by a man of science.

The Art of Learning is a wonderful book, both concise and useful, with tremendous sources for inspiration at every level. It also has more meaning to me, as it started with an investigation in the life of Josh Waitzkin, prompted by my renewed attention to chess.
To start from the beginning, I've first heard of Josh Waitzkin when I've started going through the "academy" section of ChessMaster XI. The first chapter in this section was Josh Waitzkin's academy, which taught with examples of both life and game. I was intrigued, so I looked the guy up. This way I found references to Searching for Bobby Fischer, a Hollywood movie about the early life of chess prodigy Josh Waitzkin, based on a book by his father. I watched the film, with both positive and negative feelings, but at the most I was even more intrigued. I then found out about the two books that Josh wrote: Attacking Chess and The Art of Learning and started reading the latter, since I had to read it on my old Palm in the subway and I am not yet at the level in which I can mentally visualize chess notation.
The Art of Learning is everything I wanted in a book about learning: the personal introspective view, the theory of learning and its mechanics, clear examples and methods of achieving the same results. Frankly told, I doubt many people can learn at the same speed as Josh Waitzkin can - clearly the guy is a genius - but there are insights in this book that blew me away.
The book is structured in three parts:

• The Foundation - describing the early experience of learning, the downfalls, the insights, the situations in which Josh found himself as a child discovering the game of chess and then becoming National chess champion.
• My Second Art - the part where he finds less peace in chess and decides to abandon it in favor of the martial art of Tai Chi Chuan, which centers him and presents new opportunities for learning. Here similar principles are found to the ones related to chess.
• Bringing it All Together - where Waitzkin describes methods for identifying your own method of learning and reaching the state of mind most conducive to high performance

It all ends with a climactic Taiwan International martial arts championships that Josh wins, overcoming adversity and malevolent judges, a story that rivals any of Van Damme's movies, but also shows where the inspiration for those came from.

There are some ideas that I could understand immediately, seem obvious, but I've never thought of before:
One of them is that the unconscious mind acts like a high speed parallel processor, while the conscious mind is a serial decisional engine. An expert in a field does not think faster than a beginner; he only placed many of the underlying principles in the subconscious, running them at high speed, and leaving the conscious mind decide, like a manager, from the granular information that is precomputed and available. That makes sense at the smallest biological level. Think of the frog eye that sends a yes/no signal through the optical nerve when a fly enters the field of view - the frog does not have to decide if what it sees is a fly or not. But it also explains quite clearly the effect of training, something that I, to my shame, had not understood until now. Training is not simply learning, it is also moving the information downwards, "internalizing" it, as Waitzkin calls it. GrandMasters do not think about the possibilities on the chess board from the bottom up, they already see structure and work directly with the aggregated, higher level information. Martial arts experts don't count the steps in a complicated move, they just make them. Normal people do not put a foot in front of the other, they walk, they don't string words up, they speak.
Another idea is that the process of learning, done in small increments, allows the direct internalization of concepts before we use them in combinations. First move a few pieces until you know how they work, don't start with complicated chess games. Reduce the scope of your training and the internalization will come a lot faster. Then, in a complex game, you just use the things you have learned previously. When training to fight, train each small move before you start combining them.
This is an important idea in The Art of Learning: the difference between what Waitzkin calls entity-learning and process-learning. Entity learners will try to find the quick way out, find the small trick that get the problem done; they will care only about the end result, collapsing under the fear of losing. The process learner would enjoy the challenge, see each problem as something that can be solved if attacked metodically and chipped away at bit by bit. They will value the process of learning over the end result. An entity learner will try to learn as much as possible, in the end reaching mediocre levels of understanding in all fields, while a process learner will take each process as far as possible before engaging another. Process learners would say "I didn't learn enough" when losing, while entity learners would say "I wasn't good enough".
I am sorry to say that I apparently fall towards the entity-learner category. It is obvious that must change and I hope it can. What I gathered from this concept is that entity learners identify themselves with the solution of a problem. Losing makes them losers, winning makes them winners. Process learners identify themselves with the process of learning, making them bad or good learners. A very good point Josh makes is that the type of learning is usually caused by the way parents reacted to the early success of their children and also that it can be changed, it is not set in stone like just another cemmented childhood psychological baggage.
An interesting thing about the book is that it also provides some mechanisms to improve, to reach that "zone" of serenity and presence in the moment. Borrowing from Taoist concepts, Josh Waitzkin advocates leaving in the moment, being present, aware, and he provides methods to train to reach that present state at will. I find that very interesting.

In the end I would call this one of the most useful books I've read and I certainly intend to improve on myself using some of the guiding principles in it. Josh is an extremely competitive and intelligent person and, given the opportunity of having good and talented parents, made the best of it. I am not saying that all can reach the same level of success and internal balance, but it is surely refreshing to see one of these great people lowering themselves to the level of the normal guy and giving him a few pointers. That is exactly what The Art of Learning is.

I've finally finished reading Pro ASP.Net MVC Framework by Steven Sanderson. The book is slightly dated, since it discusses the technology used in Visual Studio 2008 and without any mention of the new Razor engine, but these are details that are not important to the content of the book anyway. I can say that it is a very nice book and it was worth reading, especially the first part.

There are two parts to this, the first being a TDD ASP.Net MVC web shop application built step by step and explained line by line. It goes through some Domain Driven Design concepts as well, it does unit testing and mocking, even shows off a little dependency injection via Castle Windsor. What I liked most, though, is how painstakingly thorough Sanderson was explaining every single detail. He didn't assume anything as he documented every step of the way, down to what lambda expressions are and what .Net features he was using.

The second part of the book is a little less readable, as it goes through the classes and features of ASP.Net MVC, complete with methods, properties and small samples. I highly recommend reading this part while actually experimenting with the framework on the computer. Even if you do not, this part of the book remains a very valuable reference for when you do. In this section of the book you can learn about data entry, Ajax and partial updates, application security and deployment, even how to mix classic ASP.Net with MVC, though not really recommended.

The bottom line is that Pro ASP.Net MVC Framework is a must read for a developer learning ASP.Net MVC. There is an updated version of the book for VS2010 and .Net 4 that I think that I will also read (the book was so good). Here is the link for Pro ASP.NET MVC 2 Framework.

Somehow I have managed to read the tenth and final book in Steven Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen series: The Crippled God. Almost a year ago I was saying "I doubt the tenth book will be able to satisfyingly end the story." and I have to agree with myself :)

The book continues where Dust of Dreams ended, but introduces even more characters, all amassing towards a grand finale. But is it grand? And is it, or should it be, a finale? I dare say no, but first a little bit about the content of the book.

The adjunct Tavore does for the entire book things that not even the characters understand. More than that, they follow her, all the time acknowledging that they don't know why. While this may work for short periods of time, it gets annoying and breaks one of the tenets of book writing: allow the reader to sympathize with the characters. How can you, if you don't understand what they are doing? Combine that with Erikson's style of beginning chapters without disclosing who the characters are and having to wait for a few paragraphs before using any names, and you get a book that is hard to enjoy without giving it all your attention. And when you do, people start sobbing and having "raw feelings" and understanding a world of pain from a single word and what not.

To summarize, I believe Erikson finally succumbed to the writer curse of trying to force the reader to think like him. In the end, the pleasure of understanding the situation explain by the author and filling in the blanks with your own imagination is replaced with a vast blank instead.

Then there are the tactical situations. After a rather interesting campaign in Letheras in Dust of Dreams we get a long pointless march that makes no sense whatsoever, problems created for no reason and bad solutions for them. The enemy, the Forkrul Assail, are nothing more than glorified Nazis, running around and spreading their own brand of justice, but having small and clichéd thoughts and not much in the way of actual power. They draw extra power from the heart of the Crippled God in order to boost their grand Akhrast Korvalain magic, but when it is time to unleash it, it pretty much duds, making the reader wonder what the hell happened. Also the military strategy makes no sense whatsoever, down to the individual battles. That could have slipped if Erikson wouldn't have slipped of how Tavore is the greatest strategist of all time. I won't bore you with the details, let's just say that there is much more sobbing than thinking in this book.

And now to return to the grand finale. Not only did I not understand much of it (maybe I am too dumb, who knows?) but it fizzled in comparison to most of the previous books. The battle was not that grandiose, the scheming something only a god would understand, the characters rather bland, the sobbing (did I mention it?), even the Malazan marine was boring in this book. I did enjoy it, but it all felt rushed and soulless. A lot less than I have imagined the ending of this great series to be.

The last qualm I have is with another writer trap: the desire to finish up in a clean way. It has to end with Apsalar in her village and the two meddling Shadow gods like the first book began. It had to end a lot of the pieces of stories sprinkled throughout the books. It had to save people that suffered and have couples reunited. This could have worked for a romantic comedy with werewolves, for example, but not for a series of books that never wasted time on finding boring beginnings and useless endings for its many threads.

The ending of the book betrayed the eight preceding books and some of Ian Cameron's. Perhaps the many voices of the characters always whispering in Steven Erikson's ears for twenty years have finally driven him mad. Or maybe he just got bored.