For as long as I can remember, books have been very important to me.
I've always got a book going, and I make time to read every single day, no matter what else is going on.
But for some reason — and I imagine this carries over from my childhood — I think of summer as the real "reading season." As a kid, I remember, I would come home from the library on summer days with stacks of books to read. My family would take car trips — long ones, like to Florida and back — and I'd read literally the entire way. Plus every night in the hotel room.
My fascination then was science fiction and fantasy; those two related genres that have since been lumped together along with things like alternate history and supernatural horror under the umbrella of "speculative fiction."
Of course, as a card-carrying geek, that's still where my interest lies. Sure, I took a detour through "proper" literature — everything from Hemingway to Pynchon, Joyce to DeLillo — but eventually came back to the type of books I loved.
In the spirit of my 10-year-old self coming home with a massive summer reading list of geeky books, here's a summer reading list that should suit anyone who's interested in speculative fiction — or geeky subjects in general.
I'm not suggesting these are the best books you can read — obviously any sci-fi or fantasy fan needs to have "The Lord of the Rings" under his or her belt, and some Isaac Asimov and Arthur C. Clarke, too — but they're a selection of diverse, fun reads that have brought me great entertainment in the long summer hours.
Instead of heading outside into that summer sun to set yourself up with skin cancer, stay inside and immerse yourself in one of these worlds. I guarantee you won't regret it.
"The Algebraist" — Iain M. Banks (2005). This is the newest book on my list, and it's a massive, sprawling "space opera" that manages to weave Byzantine complexity into a ripping interstellar yarn. It's got a galactic hegemony that dwarfs practically any other I've read of, a villain who's so evil he almost seems like a parody and some of the most interesting aliens around.
"American Gods" — Neil Gaiman (2001). Gaiman's all but a household name among the folks with whom I talk books, but in case you've missed him in your reading, this is a good place to rectify that oversight. "Gods" is a spectacular exploration of mythology and its role in the modern world. Among countless other great ideas, it offers a compelling answer to the question, "What happens to gods when people stop believing in them?"
"Gun, With Occasional Music" — Jonathan Lethem (1994). This is a clever update of the classic noir detective story, transplanting that style into a strange future in which asking questions is considered appallingly rude and bioengineering has resulted in the protagonist's chief rival being a gun-toting kangaroo who works for the Mafia. Dark, humorous and sharply satirical, this is an odd read, but very worthwhile.
"Idoru" — William Gibson (1997). Gibson's a staple for anyone who's so much as heard the word "cyberpunk," but if you've already read his classics ("Neuromancer," "Mona Lisa Overdrive," etc.) this underrated Gibson work might suit you. Like anything by Gibson, it's got the requisite themes of a dark, dystopian future in which technology is advancing and society is breaking down, but this one plays interestingly with the concept of an artificially generated pop star.
"Snow Crash" — Neal Stephenson (1992). Another seminal cyberpunk work, this is also recommended to anyone who's interested in language — specifically, neurolinguistics. What if the Tower of Babel really existed and was actually a countermeasure to stop the spread of a deadly verbal virus? Also, how can you not love a book whose main character is named Hiro Protagonist and happens to be a samurai swordsman, computer hacker and pizza delivery driver for the Mob?
"Red Mars," "Green Mars" and "Blue Mars" — Kim Stanley Robinson (1993-1996). This epic trilogy combines hard science fiction — specifically, the terraforming of Mars into a human-habitable planet — with some decidedly left-leaning sociopolitical theorizing. It's massive, gripping, filled with great characters and contains some truly spectacular "mega-engineering" projects that will really convince you we can remake an entire world to suit our desires — for better or worse.
"To Say Nothing of the Dog" — Connie Willis (1997). The subgenre of steampunk gripped me like a vise the moment I discovered it. Alternate-history Victorians inventing coal-powered computers? Sign me up. There are several great steampunk works any sci-fi fan ought to read (Gibson and Sterling's "The Difference Engine," for example), but this one is a decidedly different take on the style. In 2057, Lady Schrapnell is willing to spend 50 billion pounds to rebuild Coventry Cathedral and sends hapless time-travelers back to Victorian England to find hideous pieces of art.
Finally, as far as I'm concerned, any summer could be the Summer of Lovecraft. It never ceases to amaze me that some avid readers have never read — or, sometimes, even heard of — H.P. Lovecraft, a master of American horror. Written mostly in the 1920s, Lovecraft's stories of sleeping ancient evils, forgotten knowledge that can shatter the mind and horrors lurking just beyond the bounds of human perception have influenced pop culture in any number of ways. "The Call of Cthulhu" is likely the best of his many short stories — you can likely find it in a collection with "At the Mountains of Madness," "The Dunwich Horror" and "The Shadow Over Innsmouth." They're all classics, and as soon as you read them, you'll realize you've seen references to them before — that's how quietly pervasive Lovecraft's work has become.
Culture Shocked! is an award-winning pop culture column written alternately by Carla DiFonzo and Jed Reinert. E-mail is welcome at cdifonzo@lnpnews.com and jreinert@lnpnews.com.