Review: The Lost Steersman, by Rosemary Kirstein

Series:	Steerswomen #3
Publisher:	Rosemary Kirstein
Copyright:	2003, 2014
Printing:	2014
ISBN:	0-9913546-2-1
Format:	Kindle
Pages:	432

This is the third book in the Steerswomen series and a direct follow-up to the events of The Outskirter's Secret. It does, marvel of marvels, feature an in-character summary of the events of the series to date! I do love when authors do this; it helps immensely if you come back to a series after a bit of a break between books. But this whole series is so good, and the emotional tone and development of Rowan as a character is so strong, that I recommend against starting here. After the events of the last book, Rowan has returned to the Inner Lands. She's sent her report back to the Archives, but stopped at the Annex in Alemeth. This is an auxiliary library that should have copies of the journals and other research that Rowan wants to search, and stopping there saves substantial travel time. However, she finds the steerswoman who was custodian of the Annex is deceased and the Annex is, from Rowan's perspective, a mess. Nothing is organized, the books aren't properly cared-for, and Mira's interactions with the townsfolk were far different than Rowan's natural attitude. The start of this book was a surprising shift. After the large-scale revelations at the end of The Outskirter's Secret, and the sense of escalating danger, Rowan's return to small-town life in the Inner Lands comes as a shock. That's true for both the reader and for Rowan, and the parallels make it a remarkably effective bit of writing. At the beginning of the story, the reader is already familiar with Rowan (at least if you've read the previous books) and how she thinks of being a steerswoman. Rowan is very much on edge and in a hurry given what's going on in the broader world. But the town is used to Mira: a gregarious socializer who cared far more about town gossip and her role as coordinator of it than she cared about most of her steerswoman duties. (At least as seen from Rowan's perspective. By the end of the book, we have a few hints that something else might be going on, but the damage to the books at least feels unforgivable.) Rowan is resented and even disliked at first, particularly by Steffie and Gwen who did most of the chores at the Annex and were closest to Mira. One of the reasons why I love this series so much is that Kirstein has a gift for characterization. Rowan (and Bel, who largely doesn't appear in this book) are brilliant characters, but it's not just them. At the start of this book, the reader tends to share Rowan's opinion of the town: a sort of half-bemused, half-exasperated indifference. Even as the characters start to grow on one, it seems like a backwater and a diversion from the larger story. But it becomes clear that Rowan is very on-edge from her experience in the Outskirts, that she's underestimated the relevance of Mira to at least the town's happiness, and she's greatly underestimated the ability of the townsfolk to help her. Steffie, in particular, is a wonderful character; by the end of the book, he had become one of my favorite people in the series so far. He doesn't think he's particularly smart, and his life before Rowan is very simple, but there are depths to him that no one, including him, expected. There is a plot here, apart from small town politics and Rowan's slow relaxation. (Although those were so compelling that I'm not sure I would have minded if that were the entire book.) The lost steersman of the title is an old student friend of Rowan that she unexpectedly meets in town, a former steersman who quit the order and refused to explain why. Rowan, of course, cannot resist trying to fix this situation. The second plot driver is a dangerous invasion of Outskirts monsters into the town. Those who have read the previous books will have some immediate guesses as to why this might be, and Rowan does as well. But there's more going on than it might first appear. This book is not entirely a diversion. It returns to the main plot of the series by the end of the book, and we learn much more about Rowan's world. But, somewhat surprisingly, that was my least favorite part of the book. It has some nice bits of exploration and puzzle-solving, and Rowan is always a delight to spend time with. But the last section of the book is similar to many other genre books I've read before well-written, to be sure, but not as unique. It also features a rather long section following a character who is severely physically ill, which is something I always find very hard to read (a personal quirk). But there's a lot of meat here for the broader plot, and I have no idea what will happen in the next book. The part of The Lost Steersman that I'm going to remember, though, are the town bits, up through the arrival of Zenna (another delightful character who adds even more variety to Kirstein's presentation of steerswomen). Kirstein is remarkably good at mixing small-town characters with the scientific investigation of the steerswomen and letting them bounce off of each other to reveal more about the character of both. If it weren't for the end of the book, which bothered me for partly idiosyncratic reasons, I think this would have been my favorite book of the series. Followed by The Language of Power, and be warned that this book ends on something close to a cliffhanger. Rating: 8 out of 10

Since moving to Japan, I got more and more interested in history, especially the recent history of the 20th century. The book I just finished, Ian Buruma (Wiki, home page) Wages of Guilt Memories of War in Germany and Japan (Independent, NYRB), has been a revelation for me. As an Austrian living in Japan, I am experiencing the discrepancy between these two countries with respect to their treatment of war legacy practically daily, and many of my blog entries revolve around the topic of Japanese non-reconciliation.

Willy Brandt went down on his knees in the Warsaw ghetto, after a functioning democracy had been established in the Federal Republic of Germany, not before. But Japan, shielded from the evil world, has grown into an Oskar Matzerath: opportunistic, stunted, and haunted by demons, which it tries to ignore by burying them in the sand, like Oskar s drum.
Ian Buruma, Wages of Guilt, Clearing Up the Ruins

The comparison of Germany and Japan with respect to their recent history as laid out in Buruma s book throws a spotlight on various aspects of the psychology of German and Japanese population, while at the same time not falling into the easy trap of explaining everything with difference in the guilt culture. A book of great depth and broad insights everyone having even the slightest interest in these topics should read.

This difference between (West) German and Japanese textbooks is not just a matter of detail; it shows a gap in perception.
Ian Buruma, Wages of Guilt, Romance of the Ruins

Only thinking about giving a halfway full account of this book is something impossible for me. The sheer amount of information, both on the German and Japanese side, is impressive. His incredible background (studies of Chinese literature and Japanese movie!) and long years as journalist, editor, etc, enriches the book with facets normally not available: In particular his knowledge of both the German and Japanese movie history, and the reflection of history in movies, were complete new aspects for me (see my recent post (in Japanese)). The book is comprised of four parts: The first with the chapters War Against the West and Romance of the Ruins; the second with the chapters Auschwitz, Hiroshima, and Nanking; the third with History on Trial, Textbook Resistance, and Memorials, Museums, and Monuments; and the last part with A Normal Country, Two Normal Towns, and Clearing Up the Ruins. Let us look at the chapters in turn:

• War Against the West
  This chapter sets the stage in two parts, Bonn and Tokyo, by comparing the reaction in these countries to the Iraq war. The German Betroffenheit (To be betroffen implies a sense of guilt, a sense of shame, or even embarrassment.) as the core of German post-war politics, literature, and media is introduced. On the Japanese side the difficult and diverse situation and attitudes towards the Iraq (and other) wars, as well as the necessary bits of post-war history and development of the Japanese constitution.

  What is so convenient in the cases of Germany and Japan is that pacifism happens to be a high-minded way to dull the pain of historical guilt. Or, conversely, if one wallows in it, pacifism turns national guilt into a virtue, almost a mark of superiority, when compared to the complacency of other nations.

• Romance of the Ruins
  This chapter focuses on the war and immediate post-war period with references to the specific literature and movies emerging out of the circumstances of destroyed countries who have lost the war.

  Hitler s doom and the emperor s speech, the end of one symbol and the odd continuity of another. Whatever their symbolic differences, both would be associated forever with ruins ruined cities, ruined people, ruined ideals.

• Auschwitz
  The psychological construction of war memorials in both Germanies, which focuses on the religious aspects, is discussed, followed by an excursion through post-war German literature and the long-term ignorance of anything related to the Holocaust.

  Here the past had fossilized into something monumental or, as Adorno would have put it, museal.

• Hiroshima Paralleling the previous chapter, Hiroshima introduces the simplistic and reduced focus of the Hiroshima memorials, mostly ignoring the foreign victims, many of them being Koreans forced to work in Japan, and concentrating on the Japanese martyrdom. Focusing on the atomic bomb event everything else is removed from the field of view.

  The problem with this quasi-religious view of history is that it makes it hard to discuss past events in anything but nonsecular terms. Visions of absolute evil are unique, and they are beyond human explanation or even comprehension. To explain is hubristic and amoral. If this is true of Auschwitz, it is even more true of Hiroshima. The irony is that while there can be no justification for Auschwitz unless one believes in Hitler s murderous ideology, the case for Hiroshima is at least open to debate. The A-bomb might have saved lives; it might have shortened the war. But such arguments are incompatible with the Hiroshima spirit.

• Nanking
  The history and aftermath, as well as the attempts of rejection and refutation of the Nanking massacre are described. The Tokyo Trials and their critique by governmental scholars are touched, as well as bit of fresh air blowing through the Japanese society after the death of Hirohito, which lead to the publication of the records of Nanking by Azuma Shiro .

  Yet the question remains whether the raping and killing of thousands of women, and the massacre of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of other unarmed people, in the course of six weeks, can still be called extreme conduct in the heat of battle. The question is pertinent, particularly when such extreme violence is justified by an ideology which teaches the aggressors that killing an inferior race is in accordance with the will of their divine emperor.

• History on Trial
  One of the central chapters in my opinion. It discusses and compares the two post-war trials: The Nurnberg trials in Germany and the Tokyo trials in Japan. In both cases the juridical value is questioned, focusing on the winner-looser situation of post-war times.

  The Nuremberg trials were to be a history lesson, then, as well as a symbolic punishment of the German people a moral history lesson cloaked in all the ceremonial trappings of due legal process. They were the closest that man, or at least the men belonging to the victorious powers, could come to dispensing divine justice.

  Also, the differences in war trials in East and West Germany is compared. The East Germany Waldheimer trials, as well as the thorough purge of Nazis from East German jurisdiction and politics, which was in stark contrast to both West German s very restricted trials, as well as Japan s absolute non-purge of criminals.

  As long as the emperor lived, Japanese would have trouble being honest about the past. For he had been formally responsible for everything, and by holding him responsible for nothing, everybody was absolved, except, of course, for a number of military and civilian scapegoats, Officers and Outlaws, who fell victim to victors justice.

• Textbook Resistance This chapter compares the representation of war and post-war times in the textbooks in West and East Germany and Japan. The interesting case of Ienaga Saburo and the year-long trials (1965-1993) around his history textbook are recounted. The ministry of education had forced a redaction of his history textbook to conform with the revisionist view onto history, deleting most passages that are critical of the Japanese position during the first half of the 20th century. This was one of the very few cases in Japanese post-war history where someone stood up against this revisionist view.

  The judges and some of the counsel for the ministry sat back with their eyes closed, in deep concentration, or fast asleep. Perhaps they were bored, because they had heard it all before. Perhaps they thought it was a pointless exercise, since they knew already how the case would end. But it was not a pointless exercise. For Ienaga Saburo had kept alive a vital debate for twenty-seven years. One cussed schoolteacher and several hundred supporters at the courthouse might not seem much, but it was enough to show that, this time, someone was fighting back.

• Memorials, Museums, and Monuments
  This chapter returns to war memorials: The change of meaning from post WW-1, which were memorials, to post WW-2 ones which became warning monuments, indicating the shift of attention and evaluation of war history in Germany. In contrast to this, Japan s quasi non-existence of war museums till the late 90ies, as well as the existence of the Yasukuni shrine honoring and celebrating besides other several A-class war criminals as deities.

  The tragedy is not just that the suicide pilots died young. Soldiers (and civilians) do that in wars everywhere. What is so awful about the memory of their deaths is the cloying sentimentality that was meant to justify their self-immolation. There is no reason to suppose they didn t believe in the patriotic gush about cherry blossoms and sacrifice, no matter how conventional it was at the time. Which was exactly the point: they were made to rejoice in their own death. It was the exploitation of their youthful idealism that made it such a wicked enterprise. And this point is still completely missed at the Peace Museum today.

• A Normal Country This chapter discusses the slow normalization of post-war situation after the 90ies, and all the hurdles that needed to be overcome: In the case of Germany the speech of Philipp Jenninger, then president of the Bundestag, is recounted. 50 years after the Kristallnacht he tried to give a speech of historicization , only to be find himself shunned and expelled due to the lack of Betroffenheit.

  It was not an ignoble enterprise, but he should have recognized that Historisierung, even forty-three years after the war, was still a highly risky business. For a normal society, a society not haunted by ghosts, cannot be achieved by normalizing history, or by waving cross and garlic. More the other way around: when society has become sufficiently open and free to look back, from the point of view neither of the victim nor of the criminal, but of the critic, only then will the ghosts be laid to rest.

  On the Japanese side the case of Motoshima Hitoshi , who dared to question Hirohito:

  Forty-three years have passed since the end of the war, and I think we have had enough chance to reflect on the nature of that war. From reading various accounts from abroad and having been a soldier myself, involved in military education, I do believe that the emperor bore responsibility for the war.

  which led to hitherto unseen of demonstration of extreme-right-wing groups issuing death treats that lead to a failed assassination of Motoshima, all under the completely complacent Japanese police and politics letting the right-wingers play their game.

  By breaking a Japanese taboo, Motoshima struck a blow for a more open, more normal political society, and very nearly lost his life. Jenninger, I like to think, wanted to strike a blow for the same, but failed, and lost his job. Perhaps he wasn t up to the task. Or perhaps even West Germany was not yet normal enough to hear his message.

• Two Normal Towns This chapter focuses on two rare cases of civil courage and political commitment: Anja Rosmus, who stepped forth as school child to rewrite the history of Passau. She unveiled the truth about deep involvement into the NS crimes of many inhabitants of Passau, a fact that was up to then covered up and purged from knowledge. She, too, received many death threads, including nailing a killed cat onto her door. The response of the head of the tourist office in Passau, Gottfried Dominik, speaks about the very peculiar attitude:

  I asked him again about the local camp and the small hidden memorial. Dominik showed signs of distress. It was difficult, he admitted, very difficult. I know what you mean. But let me give you my personal opinion. When you have a crippled arm, you don t really want to show it around. It was a low point in our history, back then. But it was only twelve years in thousands of years of history. And so people tend to hide it, just as a person with a crippled arm is not likely to wear a short-sleeved shirt.

  A similar incident is recounted on the Japanese side, the Hanaoka incident (detailed article) and its unveiling by Nozoe Kenji, where 800 Chinese slave workers, after escaping from a forced-work camp for the Kajima Corporation, where rabbit-hunted down and slaughtered. He, too, got death threats, and was virtually expelled from his home area because he dared to publish his findings.

  I think it is this basic distrust, this refusal to be told what to think by authorities, this cussed insistence on asking questions, on hearing the truth, that binds together Nozoe, Rosmus, and others like them. There are not many such people in Japan, or anywhere else for that matter. And I suspect they are not much liked wherever they live.

• Clearing Up the Ruins The last chapter tries to round up all the previous chapters, and look into the most recent history and near future. While not completely pessimistic with respect to Japan, the final chapter leaves clear statements on the current state of Japanese society and politics:

  The state was run by virtually the same bureaucracy that ran the Japanese empire, and the electoral system was rigged to help the same corrupt conservative party to stay in power for almost forty years. This arrangement suited the United States, as well as Japanese bureaucrats, LDP politicians, and the large industrial combines, for it ensured that Japan remained a rich and stable ally against Communism. But it also helped to stifle public debate and stopped the Japanese from growing up politically.

  His description of current Japanese society, written in 1995, is still hauntingly true in 2016:

  There is something intensely irritating about the infantilism of postwar Japanese culture: the ubiquitous chirping voices of women pretending to be girls; the Disneylandish architecture of Japanese main streets, where everything is reduced to a sugary cuteness; the screeching television talents rolling about and carrying on like kindergarten clowns; the armies of blue-suited salarymen straphanging on the subway trains, reading boys comics, the maudlin love for old school songs and cuddly mama-sans.

The boook somehow left me with a bleak impression of Japanese post-war times as well as Japanese future. Having read other books about the political ignorance in Japan (Norma Field s In the realm of a dying emperor, or the Chibana history), Buruma s characterization of Japanese politics is striking. He couldn t foresee the recent changes in legislation pushed through by the Abe government actually breaking the constitution, or the rewriting of history currently going on with respect to comfort women and Nanking. But reading his statement about Article Nine of the constitution and looking at the changes in political attitude, I am scared about where Japan is heading to:

The Nanking Massacre, for leftists and many liberals too, is the main symbol of Japanese militarism, supported by the imperial (and imperialist) cult. Which is why it is a keystone of postwar pacifism. Article Nine of the constitution is necessary to avoid another Nanking Massacre. The nationalist right takes the opposite view. To restore the true identity of Japan, the emperor must be reinstated as a religious head of state, and Article Nine must be revised to make Japan a legitimate military power again. For this reason, the Nanking Massacre, or any other example of extreme Japanese aggression, has to be ignored, softened, or denied.
Ian Buruma, Wages of Guilt, Nanking

While there are signs of resistance in the streets of Japan (Okinawa and the Hanako bay, the demonstrations against secrecy law and reversion of the constitution), we are still to see a change influenced by the people in a country ruled and distributed by oligarchs. I don t think there will be another Nanking Massacre in the near future, but Buruma s books shows that we are heading back to a nationalistic regime similar to pre-war times, just covered with a democratic veil to distract critics.

---

I close with several other quotes from the book that caught my attention: In the preface and introduction:

[ ] mainstream conservatives made a deliberate attempt to distract people s attention from war and politics by concentrating on economic growth.

The curious thing was that much of what attracted Japanese to Germany before the war Prussian authoritarianism, romantic nationalism, pseudo-scientific racialism had lingered in Japan while becoming distinctly unfashionable in Germany.

In Romance of the Ruins:

The point of all this is that Ikeda s promise of riches was the final stage of what came to be known as the reverse course, the turn away from a leftist, pacifist, neutral Japan a Japan that would never again be involved in any wars, that would resist any form of imperialism, that had, in short, turned its back for good on its bloody past. The Double Your Incomes policy was a deliberate ploy to draw public attention away from constitutional issues.

In Hiroshima:

The citizens of Hiroshima were indeed victims, primarily of their own military rulers. But when a local group of peace activists petitioned the city of Hiroshima in 1987 to incorporate the history of Japanese aggression into the Peace Memorial Museum, the request was turned down. The petition for an Aggressors Corner was prompted by junior high school students from Osaka, who had embarrassed Peace Museum officials by asking for an explanation about Japanese responsibility for the war.

The history of the war, or indeed any history, is indeed not what the Hiroshima spirit is about. This is why Auschwitz is the only comparison that is officially condoned. Anything else is too controversial, too much part of the flow of history .

In Nanking, by the governmental pseudo-historian Tanaka:

Unlike in Europe or China, writes Tanaka, you won t find one instance of planned, systematic murder in the entire history of Japan. This is because the Japanese have a different sense of values from the Chinese or the Westerners.

In History on Trial:

In 1950, Becker wrote that few things have done more to hinder true historical self-knowledge in Germany than the war crimes trials. He stuck to this belief. Becker must be taken seriously, for he is not a right-wing apologist for the Nazi past, but an eminent liberal.

There never were any Japanese war crimes trials, nor is there a Japanese Ludwigsburg. This is partly because there was no exact equivalent of the Holocaust. Even though the behavior of Japanese troops was often barbarous, and the psychological consequences of State Shinto and emperor worship were frequently as hysterical as Nazism, Japanese atrocities were part of a military campaign, not a planned genocide of a people that included the country s own citizens. And besides, those aspects of the war that were most revolting and furthest removed from actual combat, such as the medical experiments on human guinea pigs (known as logs ) carried out by Unit 731 in Manchuria, were passed over during the Tokyo trial. The knowledge compiled by the doctors of Unit 731 of freezing experiments, injection of deadly diseases, vivisections, among other things was considered so valuable by the Americans in 1945 that the doctors responsible were allowed to go free in exchange for their data.

Some Japanese have suggested that they should have conducted their own war crimes trials. The historian Hata Ikuhiko thought the Japanese leaders should have been tried according to existing Japanese laws, either in military or in civil courts. The Japanese judges, he believed, might well have been more severe than the Allied tribunal in Tokyo. And the consequences would have been healthier. If found guilty, the spirits of the defendants would not have ended up being enshrined at Yasukuni. The Tokyo trial, he said, purified the crimes of the accused and turned them into martyrs. If they had been tried in domestic courts, there is a good chance the real criminals would have been flushed out.

After it was over, the Nippon Times pointed out the flaws of the trial, but added that the Japanese people must ponder over why it is that there has been such a discrepancy between what they thought and what the rest of the world accepted almost as common knowledge. This is at the root of the tragedy which Japan brought upon herself.

Emperor Hirohito was not Hitler; Hitler was no mere Shrine. But the lethal consequences of the emperor-worshipping system of irresponsibilities did emerge during the Tokyo trial. The savagery of Japanese troops was legitimized, if not driven, by an ideology that did not include a Final Solution but was as racialist as Hider s National Socialism. The Japanese were the Asian Herrenvolk, descended from the gods.

Emperor Hirohito, the shadowy figure who changed after the war from navy uniforms to gray suits, was not personally comparable to Hitler, but his psychological role was remarkably similar.

In fact, MacArthur behaved like a traditional Japanese strongman (and was admired for doing so by many Japanese), using the imperial symbol to enhance his own power. As a result, he hurt the chances of a working Japanese democracy and seriously distorted history. For to keep the emperor in place (he could at least have been made to resign), Hirohito s past had to be freed from any blemish; the symbol had to be, so to speak, cleansed from what had been done in its name.

In Memorials, Museums, and Monuments:

If one disregards, for a moment, the differences in style between Shinto and Christianity, the Yasukuni Shrine, with its relics, its sacred ground, its bronze paeans to noble sacrifice, is not so very different from many European memorials after World War I. By and large, World War II memorials in Europe and the United States (though not the Soviet Union) no longer glorify the sacrifice of the fallen soldier. The sacrificial cult and the romantic elevation of war to a higher spiritual plane no longer seemed appropriate after Auschwitz. The Christian knight, bearing the cross of king and country, was not resurrected. But in Japan, where the war was still truly a war (not a Holocaust), and the symbolism still redolent of religious exultation, such shrines as Yasukuni still carry the torch of nineteenth-century nationalism. Hence the image of the nation owing its restoration to the sacrifice of fallen soldiers.

In A Normal Country:

The mayor received a letter from a Shinto priest in which the priest pointed out that it was un-Japanese to demand any more moral responsibility from the emperor than he had already taken. Had the emperor not demonstrated his deep sorrow every year, on the anniversary of Japan s surrender? Besides, he wrote, it was wrong to have spoken about the emperor in such a manner, even as the entire nation was deeply worried about his health. Then he came to the main point: It is a common error among Christians and people with Western inclinations, including so-called intellectuals, to fail to grasp that Western societies and Japanese society are based on fundamentally different religious concepts . . . Forgetting this premise, they attempt to place a Western structure on a Japanese foundation. I think this kind of mistake explains the demand for the emperor to bear full responsibility.

In Two Normal Towns:

The bust of the man caught my attention, but not because it was in any way unusual; such busts of prominent local figures can be seen everywhere in Japan. This one, however, was particularly grandiose. Smiling across the yard, with a look of deep satisfaction over his many achievements, was Hatazawa Kyoichi. His various functions and titles were inscribed below his bust. He had been an important provincial bureaucrat, a pillar of the sumo wrestling establishment, a member of various Olympic committees, and the recipient of some of the highest honors in Japan. The song engraved on the smooth stone was composed in praise of his rich life. There was just one small gap in Hatazawa s life story as related on his monument: the years from 1941 to 1945 were missing. Yet he had not been idle then, for he was the man in charge of labor at the Hanaoka mines.

In Clearing Up the Ruins:

But the question in American minds was understandable: could one trust a nation whose official spokesmen still refused to admit that their country had been responsible for starting a war? In these Japanese evasions there was something of the petulant child, stamping its foot, shouting that it had done nothing wrong, because everybody did it.

Japan seems at times not so much a nation of twelve-year-olds, to repeat General MacArthur s phrase, as a nation of people longing to be twelve-year-olds, or even younger, to be at that golden age when everything was secure and responsibility and conformity were not yet required.

For General MacArthur was right: in 1945, the Japanese people were political children. Until then, they had been forced into a position of complete submission to a state run by authoritarian bureaucrats and military men, and to a religious cult whose high priest was also formally chief of the armed forces and supreme monarch of the empire.

I saw Jew S ss that same year, at a screening for students of the film academy in Berlin. This showing, too, was followed by a discussion. The students, mostly from western Germany, but some from the east, were in their early twenties. They were dressed in the international uniform of jeans, anoraks, and work shirts. The professor was a man in his forties, a 68er named Karsten Witte. He began the discussion by saying that he wanted the students to concentrate on the aesthetics of the film more than the story. To describe the propaganda, he said, would simply be banal: We all know the what, so let s talk about the how. I thought of my fellow students at the film school in Tokyo more than fifteen years before. How many of them knew the what of the Japanese war in Asia.

2015 was another very busy year, but one of stabilization, rebuilding, and recovery. I got through the ramp-up period with my new job, found a better role inside the company for my personal talents and preferences, and ended the year on a professional high note. I also moved, to a place I like much better. It was a year for taking things as they come, focusing on priorities, letting other things slip, and being realistic about how much I can do. All of that, plus quite a lot of company, a business trip, and a few other unexpected distractions, meant less reading than I would have preferred. However, I did catch up completely on review writing, which is another happy sign of stabilization. Reviews came in spotty bursts, but they did come. The only explicit reading goal I'm making for 2016 is to read more than I did in 2015. I'm still working out the best priorities and schedule for me, and finding the best work/life balance points, so a predictable reading schedule will have to wait a while longer. The below statistics are confined to the books I reviewed in 2015, but thanks to significant catch-up work, I've only read one book that I have not yet reviewed (and I finished that one on December 31st). That book will be counted in 2016. Once again, the year saw two 10 out of 10 books, and once again, my favorite book of the year was written by Ann Leckie. The conclusion of the Imperial Radch trilogy, Ancillary Mercy, is as good or better than the start. The second book of the trilogy, Ancillary Sword, was also among my 2015 reviews and got 9 out of 10. I highly recommend the entire trilogy, beginning with Ancillary Justice (my book of the year in 2014), to anyone who hasn't read it. The second 10 out of 10 was non-fiction: Randall Munroe's What If? collection, featuring some material from the web site feature that accompanies xkcd and some original material. These are longer essays exploring interesting bits of science, math, and guesswork in the context of hypothetical questions that usually become surprisingly destructive. As the review says, try a few samples from the web site and see if this is your thing. I loved it. Despite my continuing low reading totals, this was a year full of fiction stand-outs. Becky Chambers's The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet was the surprise of the year for me: a heart-warming, delightful story of chosen family. Jo Walton's My Real Children was less of a surprise because I already knew she is an excellent writer, but it was probably the best-written book I read all year. In turns sad, thoughtful, and determined, it's slice-of-life fiction so good that it overcame my normal dislike of that subject matter. Other fiction highlights are parts of series: the first two Steerswomen books by Rosemary Kirstein (The Steerswoman and The Outskirter's Secret), which dance between fantasy and scientific discovery, and Seanan McGuire's One Salt Sea, the best of all the October Daye books I've read. In non-fiction, the other book that stands out is Jenny Lawson's Let's Pretend This Never Happened. This combination of memoir and stand-up comedy in book form is one of the funniest things I've read, and it mixes that humor with self-awareness and generous openness. It's a book about being a little crazy and a lot anxious, finding ways to cope by laughing at yourself, and inviting the rest of the world to join in. Finally, Sydney Padua's The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage straddles the line between fiction and non-fiction, but certainly deserves a place in the year-end round-up. Full of great art, humor, steampunk, footnotes galore, and numerous forms of geekery, it's a collection I've been waiting for since Padua's very occasional comic got its moment of Internet fame. The full analysis includes some additional personal reading statistics, probably only of interest to me.

Review: One Salt Sea, by Seanan McGuire

Series:	October Daye #5
Publisher:	DAW
Copyright:	September 2011
ISBN:	1-101-54760-X
Format:	Kindle
Pages:	368

This is the fifth book of the October Daye series. It's the best book of the series to date, at least in my opinion, but this is a series with a substantial cast and political complications. You could probably start here and work out things on the fly, since each story is largely self-contained, but much of the emotional resonance would be lost. As expected for this series, Toby's life doesn't have much time to stabilize after the events of Late Eclipses. This time, though, the initial threat is less personal and more political. The children of the rulers of the Duchy of Saltmist have been kidnapped, and war between Saltmist and the Kingdom of the Mists (Toby's home) is very near. All that stands in the way of horrible casualties, of fae that can scarce afford more death, is Toby's desperate detective work. Toby's confidence and belief in her own abilities has been growing steadily throughout this series. One of my favorite themes in fiction is someone who doesn't really believe in themselves but tries anyway, because they couldn't live with themselves if they didn't, and discovers they're more capable than they thought. In this series, I think that works best when Toby is less scared and more angry, which is very true in One Salt Sea. That's one reason why I liked this book better than either An Artificial Night or Late Eclipses. Another is that I love the politics and the depth of world-building and lore that McGuire brings to this series, and One Salt Sea is a showcase of both. We get the Undersea Duchy of Saltmist, which comes from both different traditions and different fae than the series so far. We get a plot that combines political maneuvering with a more traditional detective story than the last few books. We get more hidden traditions, past alliances and enmity that Toby didn't know about, and further development of Toby's own abilities. She has to tug hard on some threads, move between levels of the fae world, and draw on her network for uniquely fae forms of forensic analysis. I thoroughly enjoyed it, particularly the rocks. (You'll know what I mean when you get to that part.) But the best thing about this book, by far, is the Luidaeg. I've mentioned in reviews of previous books that the Luidaeg is my favorite character of the series. One Salt Sea just cements that. This is the deepest that the Luidaeg has been involved in a story: she gives Toby her mission at the start, substantial help along the way, and is deeply involved in the ending. We even learn some of her own background, and some of her own worries and pain. (And foreshadowing that there's more of this to come, which I'm eagerly looking forward to.) She's moved from a strange ally through a cautious friend to some combination of aunt and mother to Toby, while always staying her irascible and occasionally painful self. The bits with her in this book are the best so far, and there are a lot of them. It's a delightful reading experience. McGuire also uses this story to clear up a plot element that's been lingering since the first book of the series, but that never worked emotionally for me. (I'm talking about this indirectly since it's a significant spoiler.) It's a great resolution, one with heft and emotion and hard choices and pain, and largely makes up for the showing rather than telling that we've gotten in the previous books, while also (at least I suspect) graciously shuffling that plot out of the way in future books. It's a good bit of series work and personal growth for Toby, and I think frees the series to focus on the bits I enjoy the most. The ending of One Salt Sea hurts, but it's a good hurt, full of hard choices made well, bravery, and sacrifice. The best moments of this series have always had that, but I think this book is the most successful delivery of the whole package to date. This has always been a solid urban fantasy series, but I think it's getting better as it goes along. One major reason is that McGuire doesn't seem to be running out of world-building oomph. In a lot of urban fantasy, particularly the werewolf and vampire sort, I feel like the lore gets thinner, more rehashed, and more mundane as the series ages. But McGuire is still introducing new elements, showing existing elements from new directions and in new light, and has been slowly building major puzzles around Toby's life and abilities that intrigue me. And, even more rare, the eventual revelations usually live up to the preceding tension. It's certainly a recipe to keep me reading. Followed by Ashes of Honor. Rating: 9 out of 10

Review: The Outskirter's Secret, by Rosemary Kirstein

Series:	Steerswomen #2
Publisher:	Del Rey
Copyright:	1992, 2001
Printing:	2001
ISBN:	0-345-46105-3
Format:	Trade paperback
Pages:	389

This is a direct sequel to The Steerswoman, and I don't recommend starting here. I read this novel as part of The Steerswoman's Road omnibus, which is the edition reflected in the metadata (except for the page count, which is just this novel). There are a few plot constructs that occur depressingly often in SFF and almost always annoy me. One is books where nearly all of the book is just a journey from one place to another, without much interesting landscape along the way. Subtract additional points if the land is hostile and there are constant worries about food. Another is illness, or being unable to trust one's senses, or, worse, both. Somehow, this book manages to do both of those things and was still thoroughly enjoyable. This is exceptionally rare. After the conclusions reached in the previous book, Rowan and Bel are even more determined to reach the origin of the jewels on Bel's belt and gather more information. This means travel into the Outskirts, where Rowan has never been (and where people from the Inner Land almost never go). It also means close contact with Bel's people, who have an entirely different set of social rituals and who are notoriously prickly. Nearly all of The Outskirter's Secret is travel through the Outskirts while navigating Outskirter society, politics, and customs. It's anthropological fiction of a sort, particularly given the inquisitive and analytical mindset that Rowan brings to anything new. Anthropological SFF is another one of those things that normally leaves me cold, but which totally worked for me in this book. I rarely remember being this engaged in, or caring this much about, the customs and traditions of an invented and relatively primitive culture. Partly this is because Rowan's mindset continues to be fascinating and contagious. I kind of want to compare this series to Neal Stephenson's Anathem, but where Stephenson's novel was about the practice of organized science, the Steerswomen series is about the individual scholar and scientist. This could go badly in the hands of a lesser author, but Kirstein brilliantly balances analysis and theories with Rowan's child-like wonder in learning, peculiar and determined ethics, and emotional growth. She isn't a disinterested observer or an engineer with a wrench. She lets the world change her, works hard at finding her place and her own strength, and engages with it emotionally as much as she does intellectually. She's a wonderfully compelling character. Another significant factor to this book's success is the slow and deliberate way Kirstein mixes world-building revelations with the day-to-day struggles of the characters. There's much more to that than just the target of Rowan's investigations, and far more complexity and significance to the Outskirters than showed in first appearances. The world is also set up in a way that lets the readers guess various details before the characters, with their more limited knowledge, can work out: another tricky technique that Kirstein gets almost perfect. I never wanted to shake the characters for being dumb; usually, both Rowan and Bel leap to correct conclusions just shortly after the reader, and long before the reader is tired of following their thought processes. There was only one bit of world-building that took Rowan most of the book to figure out despite being obvious to me early in this novel, and I think that one was fair. She didn't have anywhere near enough information to work it out. Bel continues to be wonderful in numerous ways. But even better, Kirstein introduces us to Bel's people and highlights both similarities and differences. It's an excellent job of building a complex culture that feels human: varied, tradition-laden, practical, but also well-adapted to their environment and situation, and far more sophisticated than they might appear. I'm normally a hard sell for this sort of thing, but Kirstein got me thoroughly invested. One scene late in this novel where a tribe welcomes a newcomer is masterful and probably my favorite single moment of the series so far. Once again, unfortunately, the conclusion is a bit less than satisfying. The characters come away knowing more, planning more, but still with numerous unanswered questions. This is not a series that's in a hurry to get to major plot payoffs. Instead, it's a series that takes a close look at the cultures, relationships, emotions, and lives that it touches, and describes them in deft and engaging ways. The Outskirter's Secret is even better than The Steerswoman. Recommended. I bought the third and fourth books while only a little ways into this one and am eager to read them. Followed by The Lost Steersman. Rating: 9 out of 10

Recently, Eric Raymond, famous for is The Cathedral and the Bazaar , stepped forward to speak out against mixing social agenda, like equal treatment for everyone outside the white straight group, with meritocracy, the evaluation of one solely based on his/her contribution. And without fail, the SJW side of the Internet didn t take much time to munch down on Raymond like hungry wolves in a long winter: Coraline Ada Ehmke (should that recall Ada Lovelace?), Tim Chevalier, Matthew Garret, just to name a few. The arguments are quite easy to summarize: The meritocracy party proposes that One s contribution should only be evaluated based on the content and the quality , while the SJW party asserts that in case the submitter as from a minority group, in particular everyone outside the white straight group, the contribution has to be accepted with higher probability (or without discussion) to ensure equality. (Added here for clarification: A SJW is someone who puts the agenda of anti-genderization and anti-biasization (nice word) above all other objectives, often by quoting scientific results on existing and not deniable bias) Well, I am a scientist, and I can tell you just one thing: I simply don t give a shit for whether someone is white, black, red, green, red, straight, gay, a Rastafari or Pastafari (well, to be honest, I really give an extra 3 plus points to Pastafari!), really, I check their proofs. And if they are rubbish, they are rubbish. If they are ok, they are ok. Let us for a moment assume that the world of research would work the same way as the proposed world of Ehmke, Chevalier, Garret, and all the other SJW: A lesbian female black is submitting an article to a scientific journal (first of all, as a referee I wouldn t even know about her sexual interest, nor her color, nor her background in most of the cases), and the honest referee reports would dare to reject the paper due to technical and methodological insufficiencies. A very common case. Now, the average SJW (including the above named, according to their blog posts) would require us to be open and, well, publish a rubbish paper just because it is written by an non-white-non-male author. What should I say well stupidity seemingly does not have a limit. Hopefully software projects around the world do not fall into this stupid trap, and continue evaluating contributions solely on their actual merit. This is all I am asking for, quite in contrast to the SJW groupies. And this is also what Raymond is asking for so I have not the slightest idea why anyone around this planet sees a need to step up and become noisy.

Review: Hawk, by Steven Brust

Series:	Vlad Taltos #14
Publisher:	Tor
Copyright:	October 2014
ISBN:	0-7653-2444-X
Format:	Hardcover
Pages:	320

This is the fourteenth book in the Vlad Taltos series (not counting the various associated books and other series), builds directly on the long-term plot arc of the series (finally!), and is deeply entangled with Vlad's friends and former life as a Jhereg boss. As you might imagine from that introduction, this is absolutely not the place to start with this series. For the past few books, Brust has been following a pattern of advancing the series plot in one book and then taking the next book to fill in past history or tell some side story. That means, following Tiassa, we were due some series advancement, and that's exactly what we get. We also, finally, get some more details about Lady Teldra. Nothing all that revelatory, but certainly intriguing, and more than just additional questions (at last). When Brust finally takes this gun off the wall and fires it, the resulting bits of world-building might be even better than Issola. At its heart, though, Hawk is a caper novel. If you're like me, you're thinking "it's about time." I think this is the sort of story Brust excels at, particularly with Vlad as his protagonist. Even better, unlike some of the other multi-part novels, this is a book-length caper focused on a very important goal, and with the potential to get rid of some annoyances in Vlad's life that have lingered for rather too long. We see many of Vlad's Dragaeran friends, but (apart from Daymar) mostly in glimpses. This is Vlad's book, with heavy helpings of Loiosh. The caper is also a nicely twisty one, involving everything from different types of magic to the inner workings of the Jhereg organization. As is typical for Vlad's schemes, there are several false fronts and fake goals, numerous unexpected twists, and a rather fun guest appearance. Oh, and lots and lots of snark, of course. I think my favorite part of the book was the interaction between Vlad and Kragar, which added a lot of emotional depth both to this story and to some of the previous stories of Vlad's life as a Jhereg. And I'm hoping that where Brust leaves things at the end of this book implies a Vlad who is more free to act, to see his friends, and to get entangled in Imperial politics, since I think that leads to the best stories. Of course, if Brust holds to pattern, the next book will be backfill or side stories and we'll have to wait longer for a continuation of the main story. As much as I like those side stories, I'm hoping Brust will break pattern. I'm increasingly eager to see where this story will go. The all-too-brief interaction with Sethra in this book promises so much for the future. If you like the Vlad Taltos books overall, you'll probably like this one. It's a return to the old scheming Vlad, but tempered by more experience and different stakes. There's a bit of lore, a bit of world-building, and a lot of Vlad being tricky. This series is still going strong fourteen books in. Rating: 8 out of 10

Review: The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage, by Sydney Padua

Publisher:	Pantheon
Copyright:	2015
ISBN:	0-307-90827-5
Format:	Hardcover
Pages:	317

I seem to be writing a lot of reviews lately where any reader can easily do their own research and see if this is something they'd like. This is another of those, but perhaps a bit more obscure. As Padua explains in the preface, the first Lovelace and Babbage strip was intended to be a one-off joke. A friend suggested that she draw a comic telling the (short and rather tragic) life of Ada Lovelace, widely considered the first computer programmer even though the computer for which she wrote programs was never built: Charles Babbage's Analytic Engine. Padua found the story of Babbage and Lovelace's collaboration fascinating but too grim, and so wrote an alternate ending involving a pocket universe in which Babbage and Lovelace lived on to fight crime! Or at least fought against street organs and poetry. Padua meant this as a joke. The Internet took it as a teaser. Quite to her surprise, she found herself writing occasional additional episodes and getting lost in fascinating research about Lovelace and Babbage. The result is all at 2dgoggles.com. This book is a curated collection of those comics, including much of their (extensive) footnotes and research notes, in a very attractive and well-constructed book form. The best review, therefore, would be to go read some of the comics yourself, easily accessible via the Comics tab on the web site, and see if this is the sort of thing you'd enjoy. There is some material in the book that isn't on the web site, but most of it is there (including one full story that didn't make it into the book). There are a few reasons to buy a collection like this of material that previously appeared on the Internet. One, of course, is out of gratitude to support the author, which is the main reason I bought it. If you want to do that, though, you probably already know you do. Another reason is for additional unpublished material, but that's not really the case here. But a third is that, despite all the technology of the web, books can sometimes provide a more elegant and beautiful presentation. And that's very much the case for The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage. The hardcover is a beautiful work of art. It has what you would expect from a hardcover graphic novel, of course: sturdy paper, lovely story headings in the form of Victorian-style posters, and very nice artwork beneath the dust jacket. (I've been so happy to see that in the last few hardcovers I've reviewed.) But, best of all, it presents the primary research notes on each page underneath comic panels. Those who have been reading Lovelace and Babbage as it appears on the web know Padua's copious research notes. But they're normally presented at the end of each complete part, and I found myself often not reading them in detail. This might not be the case for everyone, but at least for me this presentation works so much better. Historical notes are at the bottom of (nearly) every page, in context. This might sound like it would distract from and break up the flow of the story, but at least for me it does the opposite. The comics feel so much richer when intermixed with the actual history (which in some cases is surprisingly similar to what seemed to be wild, invented scenarios). The historical notes also have end notes, and quite substantial ones. I found that organization less successful (readers of my reviews will know I have a long-standing antipathy towards end notes for anything other than cross-references), but I have to admit I have no idea how Padua would have fit those on the same page as footnotes. They're also written well enough, and with sufficient detail, that I could usually read a chapter and then read all the end notes and mostly remember what they referred to. Padua also takes advantage of the format to play a few neat games with frame breaks: characters commenting on the notes, stabbing things into them, or otherwise affecting them. I have to admit to some mild frustration where this makes the notes unreadable, since they're nearly as fascinating as the comics, but the overall effect is still worth it. (And, of course, the full notes are available on the web if one wishes to look them up.) Rounding out the book version are a few of the best original source documents that Padua found, thankfully excerpted and well-edited to not outlive their welcome for those of us who don't like poring over Victorian letters. And, finally, some beautiful illustrations of the mechanisms of the Analytic Engine with supporting descriptions of how they were supposed to work. I'm not particularly mechanically inclined, nor that fascinated by steampunk, and I still found these diagrams impressive and fun to look at. Someone more interested in such things will be in for a treat. I've been thoroughly enjoying the (sadly infrequent) installments of Lovelace and Babbage for years now, and am utterly delighted by their hardcover appearance. If you already knew about Padua's work and have any interest in nice hardcovers of such things, I don't think you'll regret the purchase. If you haven't heard of her, or this series, before, some quick reading at the web site should quickly reveal whether this is something you'd enjoy. Rating: 9 out of 10

What happened in the reproducible builds effort this week: Toolchain fixes

• Bdale Garbee uploaded tar/1.28-1 which includes the --clamp-mtime option. Patch by Lunar.

Aur lien Jarno uploaded glibc/2.21-0experimental1 which will fix the issue were locales-all did not behave exactly like locales despite having it in the Provides field. Lunar rebased the pu/reproducible_builds branch for dpkg on top of the released 1.18.2. This made visible an issue with udebs and automatically generated debug packages. The summary from the meeting at DebConf15 between ftpmasters, dpkg mainatainers and reproducible builds folks has been posted to the revelant mailing lists. Packages fixed The following 70 packages became reproducible due to changes in their build dependencies: activemq-activeio, async-http-client, classworlds, clirr, compress-lzf, dbus-c++, felix-bundlerepository, felix-framework, felix-gogo-command, felix-gogo-runtime, felix-gogo-shell, felix-main, felix-shell-tui, felix-shell, findbugs-bcel, gco, gdebi, gecode, geronimo-ejb-3.2-spec, git-repair, gmetric4j, gs-collections, hawtbuf, hawtdispatch, jack-tools, jackson-dataformat-cbor, jackson-dataformat-yaml, jackson-module-jaxb-annotations, jmxetric, json-simple, kryo-serializers, lhapdf, libccrtp, libclaw, libcommoncpp2, libftdi1, libjboss-marshalling-java, libmimic, libphysfs, libxstream-java, limereg, maven-debian-helper, maven-filtering, maven-invoker, mochiweb, mongo-java-driver, mqtt-client, netty-3.9, openhft-chronicle-queue, openhft-compiler, openhft-lang, pavucontrol, plexus-ant-factory, plexus-archiver, plexus-bsh-factory, plexus-cdc, plexus-classworlds2, plexus-component-metadata, plexus-container-default, plexus-io, pytone, scolasync, sisu-ioc, snappy-java, spatial4j-0.4, tika, treeline, wss4j, xtalk, zshdb. The following packages became reproducible after getting fixed:

• apr/1.5.2-2 by Stefan Fritsch.
• binutils-m68hc1x/1:2.18-6 by Santiago Vila.
• buxon/0.0.5-5 uploaded by Santiago Vila, original patch by Chris Lamb.
• cdtool/2.1.8-release-3 by Santiago Vila.
• check/0.10.0-1 by Tobias Frost.
• ffe/0.3.4-2 by Santiago Vila.
• flowscan-cuflow/1.7-9 by Santiago Vila.
• gmt/5.1.2+dfsg1-2 by Bas Couwenberg.
• gtkspellmm/3.0.3+dfsg-2 by Philip Rinn.
• htp/1.19-2 uploaded by Santiago Vila, original patch by Chris Lamb.
• igerman98/20131206-6 by Roland Rosenfeld.
• intlfonts/1.2.1-9 uploaded by Santiago Vila, original patch by Chris Lamb.
• irda-utils/0.9.18-14 uploaded by Santiago Vila, original patch by Chris Lamb.
• jackd2/1.9.10+20150825git1ed50c92~dfsg-1 uploaded by Adrian Knoth, original patch by Chris Lamb.
• jove/4.16.0.73-4 by Cord Beermann.
• jquery/1.11.3+dfsg-1 uploaded by Antonio Terceiro, original patch by Reiner Herrmann.
• libapache2-authcookie-perl/3.22-3 by Niko Tyni.
• libaqbanking/5.6.1beta-2 fixed and uploaded by Micha Lenk.
• libcitygml/1.4.3-1 by Bas Couwenberg with a fixed new upstream release.
• libevhtp/1.2.10-3 by Vincent Bernat.
• libgnome2-perl/1.046-2 by Niko Tyni.
• libmarc-charset-perl/1.35-2 by Niko Tyni.
• libtime-y2038-perl/20100403-5 by Niko Tyni.
• libxray-absorption-perl/3.0.1-3 uploaded by gregor herrmann, original patch by Niko Tyno.
• lpc21isp/1.97-2 by Agustin Henze.
• luakit/2012.09.13-r1-6 by Santiago Vila, also with a patch from akira.
• moarvm/2015.07-1 by Daniel Dehennin with a fixed new upstream release.
• mosquitto/1.4.3-1 by Roger A. Light.
• ngircd/22.1-2 by Christoph Biedl.
• nn/6.7.3-10 uploaded by Cord Beermann, original patch by Chris Lamb.
• owncloud-client/2.0.0~rc1+dfsg-1 by Sandro Knau .
• postfix-gld/1.7-7 uploaded by Santiago Vila, patches for gzip by Chris Lamb and mtimes by akira.
• pppconfig/2.3.22 by Santiago Vila.
• prometheus/0.15.1+ds-2 by Mart n Ferrari.
• python-xlrd/0.9.4-1 by Vincent Bernat.
• recode/3.6-22 by Santiago Vila.
• ruby-rmagick/2.15.4-1 by Antonio Terceiro.
• scite/3.6.0-1 by Antonio Valentino.
• smartlist/3.15-25 by Santiago Vila.
• tar/1.28-1 uploaded by Bdale Garbee, original patch by Reiner Herrman.
• transmissionrpc/0.11-2 uploaded by Vincent Bernat, original patch by Juan Picca.
• uruk/20150810-1 uploaded by Joost van Baal-Ili , original patch by Lunar.
• webassets/3:0.11-2 uploaded by Agustin Henze, original patch by Reiner Herrmann.
• xfig/1:3.2.5.c-5 by Roland Rosenfeld.
• xfonts-bolkhov/1.1.20001007-8 by Santiago Vila.

Some uploads fixed some reproducibility issues but not all of them:

• cvs-buildpackage/5.24 uploaded by Santiago Vila, original patch by Chris Lamb.
• gcc-mingw-w64/15.5 by Stephen Kitt.
• vtk6/6.2.0+dfsg1-4 by Anton Gladky.

Patches submitted which have not made their way to the archive yet:

• #797027 on zyne by Chris Lamb: switch to pybuild to get rid of .pyc files.
• #797180 on python-doit by Chris Lamb: sort output when creating completion script for bash and zsh.
• #797211 on apt-dater by Chris Lamb: fix implementation of SOURCE_DATE_EPOCH.
• #797215 on getdns by Chris Lamb: fix call to dpkg-parsechangelog in debian/rules.
• #797254 on splint by Chris Lamb: support SOURCE_DATE_EPOCH for version string.
• #797296 on shiro by Chris Lamb: remove username from build string.
• #797408 on splitpatch by Reiner Herrmann: use SOURCE_DATE_EPOCH to set manpage date.
• #797410 on eigenbase-farrago by Reiner Herrmann: sets the comment style to scm-safe which tells ResourceGen that no timestamps should be included.
• #797415 on apparmor by Reiner Herrmann: sorting with the locale set to C. CAPABILITIES
• #797419 on resiprocate by Reiner Herrmann: set the embedded hostname to a static value.
• #797427 on jam by Reiner Herrmann: sorting with the locale set to C.
• #797430 on ii-esu by Reiner Herrmann: sort source list using C locale.
• #797431 on tatan by Reiner Herrmann: sort source list using C locale.

Chris Lamb also noticed that binaries shipped with libsilo-bin did not work. Documentation update Chris Lamb and Ximin Luo assembled a proper specification for SOURCE_DATE_EPOCH in the hope to convince more upstreams to adopt it. Thanks to Holger it is published under a non-Debian domain name. Lunar documented easiest way to solve issues with file ordering and timestamps in tarballs that came with tar/1.28-1. Some examples on how to use SOURCE_DATE_EPOCH have been improved to support systems without GNU date. reproducible.debian.net armhf is finally being tested, which also means the remote building of Debian packages finally works! This paves the way to perform the tests on even more architectures and doing variations on CPU and date. Some packages even produce the same binary Arch:all packages on different architectures (1, 2). (h01ger) Tests for FreeBSD are finally running. (h01ger) As it seems the gcc5 transition has cooled off, we schedule sid more often than testing again on amd64. (h01ger) disorderfs has been built and installed on all build nodes (amd64 and armhf). One issue related to permissions for root and unpriviliged users needs to be solved before disorderfs can be used on reproducible.debian.net. (h01ger) strip-nondeterminism Version 0.011-1 has been released on August 29th. The new version updates dh_strip_nondeterminism to match recent changes in debhelper. (Andrew Ayer) disorderfs disorderfs, the new FUSE filesystem to ease testing of filesystem-related variations, is now almost ready to be used. Version 0.2.0 adds support for extended attributes. Since then Andrew Ayer also added support to reverse directory entries instead of shuffling them, and arbitrary padding to the number of blocks used by files. Package reviews 142 reviews have been removed, 48 added and 259 updated this week. Santiago Vila renamed the not_using_dh_builddeb issue into varying_mtimes_in_data_tar_gz_or_control_tar_gz to align better with other tag names. New issue identified this week: random_order_in_python_doit_completion. 37 FTBFS issues have been reported by Chris West (Faux) and Chris Lamb. Misc. h01ger gave a talk at FrOSCon on August 23rd. Recordings are already online. These reports are being reviewed and enhanced every week by many people hanging out on #debian-reproducible. Huge thanks!

Review: The Pyramid Waltz, by Barbara Ann Wright

Series:	Katya and Starbride #1
Publisher:	Bold Strokes
Copyright:	September 2012
ISBN:	1-60282-792-3
Format:	Kindle
Pages:	264

Princess Katya Nar Umbriel is publicly a bored, womanizing, and difficult daughter to the rulers of Farraday. It's all an act, though, with the full knowledge of her parents. As the second child, she's the leader of the Order of Vestra: the equivalent of the Secret Service, devoted to protecting the royal family and, by extension, the kingdom, particularly against magical attacks. Starbride is new to court and entirely out of place. From a northern neighboring country, and far more comfortable in practical clothing than the frilled court dresses that her mother wants her to wear, she has been sent to court to make contacts. Her people are getting the bad side of various trade contracts and desperately need some political maneuvering space of their own. Starbride's best hope for this is to study law in the palace library when she can manage to avoid the other courtiers. But then she and Katya stumble across each other, outside of the roles they're playing, and might have an opportunity for a deeper connection. One that neither of them want to entangle in their personal worries. This is the last of a set of books I picked up while looking for lesbian romance with fantasy or science fiction elements. On the romance front, it's one of the better entries in that set. Both Katya and Starbride are likeable, in large part due to their mutual exasperation with the trappings of the court. (Making the protagonists more serious, thoughtful, and intelligent than the surrounding characters is an old trick, but it works.) Wright has a good ear for banter, particularly the kind when two people of good will are carefully feeling each other out. And despite Katya's need to keep a deep secret from Starbride for some of the book, The Pyramid Waltz mostly avoids irritating communication failures as a plot driver. The fantasy portion and the plot drivers, alas, are weaker. The world building is not exactly bad, but it's just not that interesting. There are a couple of moderately good ideas, in the form of pyramid magic and secret (and dangerous) magical powers that run in the royal family, but they're not well-developed. Pyramid magic turns out to look much like any other generic fantasy magic system, with training scenes that could have come from a Valdemar or Wheel of Time novel (and without as much dramatic tension). And the royal family's secret, while better-developed and integral to the plot, still felt rather generic and one-sided. Maybe that's something Wright develops better in future novels in this series, but that was another problem: the ending of The Pyramid Waltz was rather weak. Partly, I think, this is because the cast is too large and not well-developed. I cared about Katya and Starbird, and to a lesser extent their servants and one of the Order members. (Wright has a moderately interesting bit of worldbuilding about how servants work in Starbride's culture, which I wish we'd seen more of.) But there are a bunch of other Order of Vesta members, Katya's family, and various other bits of history and hinted world views, none of which seemed to get much depth. The ending climax involved a lot of revelations and twists that primarily concerned characters I didn't care about. It lost something in the process. This book is clearly set up for a sequel. There is an ending, but it's not entirely satisfying. Unfortunately, despite liking Katya and Starbird a lot, the rest of the story wasn't compelling enough to make me want to buy it, particularly since the series apparently goes through another three books before reaching a real ending. I enjoyed parts of this book, particularly Katya and Starbird feeling each other out and discovering similarities in their outlook. Katya teasing Starbird, and Starbird teasing herself, over her mother's choice of her clothing was probably the best part. It's not bad for what it's trying to do, but I think it's a bit too generic and not satisfying enough to really recommend. Followed by For Want of a Fiend. Rating: 6 out of 10

The Internet is going encrypted. Revelations of mass-surveillance of Internet traffic has given the Internet community the motivation to roll out encrypted services the biggest of which is undoubtedly HTTP. The weak point, though, is SSL Certification Authorities. These are trusted third parties who are supposed to validate that a person requesting a certificate for a domain is authorised to have a certificate for that domain. It is no secret that these companies have failed to do the job entrusted to them, again, and again, and again. Oh, and another one. However, at this point, doing away with CAs and finding some other mechanism isn t feasible. There is no clear alternative, and the inertia in the current system is overwhelming, to the point where it would take a decade or more to migrate away from the CA-backed SSL certificate ecosystem, even if there was something that was widely acknowledged to be superior in every possible way. This is where Certificate Transparency comes in. This protocol, which works as part of the existing CA ecosystem, requires CAs to publish every certificate they issue, in order for the certificate to be considered valid by browsers and other user agents. While it doesn t guarantee to prevent misissuance, it does mean that a CA can t cover up or try to minimise the impact of a breach or other screwup their actions are fully public, for everyone to see. Much of Certificate Transparency s power, however, is diminished if nobody is looking at the certificates which are being published. That is why I have launched sslaware.com, a site for searching the database of logged certificates. At present, it is rather minimalist, however I intend on adding more features, such as real-time notifications (if a new cert for your domain or organisation is logged, you ll get an e-mail about it), and more advanced searching capabilities. If you care about the security of your website, you should check out SSL Aware and see what certificates have been issued for your site. You may be unpleasantly surprised.

Ok, I have to admit, I sometimes do game and recently I finished Portal. Quite old (released in 2007), but still lots of fun. I started playing it about one year ago, off and on, until I recently finished the last level. Took me about 1 year of playing to finish the actual playing time of about 10h I guess you can see how much an addict I am I have never been a gamer, and I think there are only three set of games I played for extended periods of time:

• The Myst Series
  Fully played: Myst, Riven, Myst III Exile, and partly Uru: Ages beyond Myst, Myst IV Revelation, never played Myst V End of Ages
  Puzzle games where one explores worlds that are created by writing books. I remember jotting down loads of notes and building models to solve all the problems (before the walk-through times), only to get stuck at one of the final riddles that were color based, practically impossible for me.
• The Descent Series
  Descent, Descent II, Descent 3
  These were some of the first games playable on Linux back in the old times, distributed by Linux Game Development, now long defunct. I still remember fighting with getting my joystick supported to play D3
• Civilization Series
  Civilization I, Civilization II, and Civilization III after which I stopped.

plus one more game, which got me hooked somehow:

• Starship Titanic: the only game designed by Douglas Adams, and if you know the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, I guess you know what to expect from a computer game made by him

Hard-core board gamer who I am (I prefer playing with people real games without computer), I loved the Myst series for its crazy riddles, where solving them often needs a combination of logical thinking, recognizing patterns in images and sounds, and piecing together long list of hints. This is something a normal board game cannot provide. From the Descent series I loved the complete freedom of movement. Normal first-person shooters are just like humans running around, a bit of jumping and crouching, but Descent gives you 6D freedom which led to some people getting sick while watching me playing. From the Civilization series I don t know what I liked particularly, but it got you involved and allowed you to play long rounds. After these sins of youngsters, I haven t played for long long time, until a happy coincidence (of being Debian Developer) brought Steam onto my (Linux) machine together with a bunch of games I received for free. One of the games was Portal. Portal is in the style of Myst games one can place dual portals in various places, and by entering one of the portals, one leaves through the other. Using this one has to manage to solve loads of puzzle, evade being shot, dissolved in acid, crashed to death, etc etc, with the only aim to leave the underground station. Besides shooting these portals there are some cubes that one can carry around and use for a variety of purposes, like putting them onto buttons, using them as stairs, protecting yourself from being shot, etc. But that s already all the tools one has. Despite of this, the levels pose increasingly difficult problems, and one is surprised how strange things one can achieve with these limited abilities and no, one cannot buy new power-ups, its not WoW. Logical thinking, tactic, and a certain level of reaction suffices. While not as philosophical as Myst, it was still a lot of fun. The only thing I am a bit unclear is, where to go from here. There are two possible successors: The logical one would be Portal 2. But I recently found a game that reminded me even more of the Myst series, combined with Portal: The Talos Principle, with stunning graphics: And filled with riddles again, maybe not as involved as in the Myst series (I don t know by now), but still a bit more challenging than Portal s one:
Difficult decision. If you have any other suggestions, please let me know!

Review: Hild, by Nicola Griffith

Series:	Hild #1
Publisher:	Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Copyright:	2013
ISBN:	0-374-28087-8
Format:	Hardcover
Pages:	539

Hild was born in seventh-century Britain, daughter of Hereric (would-be king of Daria) and Breguswith. Born, her mother said, to be a light to the land. This much is documented by the Venerable Bede, in The Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation, along with Hild's later rise to become one of the most powerful abbesses in British history. But nearly all of Hild's early life is a cipher. Hild fills in some of that gap with fiction. Specifically, it takes Hild from a child of three, learning her father has been killed, to a young woman, an advisor of Edwin king. It's a coming of age story in part, following her maturation both physically and mentally, her training in when to speak and how, and the dangers of being close to royalty in a fractious, political, and war-torn land. It's also the story of endless maneuvering and care, initially by her mother Breguswith and then by Hild herself sometimes in opposition to her mother, sometimes in alliance as her mother attempts to make a safe place for her daughter and herself in a treacherous court of shifting dangers. But Hild is also a story about Britain. It's a novel about how it felt and how it sounded. How it was organized, primarily among the high-born but with snippets of perspective from the lower classes. And it's a story about women: about weaving, about medicine, about friendships and partnerships and alliances among women, about the politics of marriage and childbirth, but also about the places women held and made in a time when surviving official history is all about the men. Hild is a painstakingly-researched, sprawling, lush, and sensual immersion in a part of history that gets little formal attention: after the Romans, before what we think of as medieval, before England as a country. I've been waiting for a new Nicola Griffith novel for quite a while, since Always in 2007. Hild doesn't disappoint, but it's also different than Griffith's previous writing. It has less of the strong narrative drive and clarity of either her SF or Aud Torvingen stories. Instead, the goal of Hild is to immerse and transport you, to help you feel the shape of Hild's world, to understand her days and tasks, her dreams and dangers. Like all of Griffith's work, it's beautifully written. Griffith puts description at the fore, in the sharp eyes of an observant girl who loves the outdoors, and who has been taught to watch for signs of weather and tools of healing. From early on, Hild's mother sets her up as a seer and prophetess as a way of establishing her value to war leaders and kings, and while some of it is drama and cryptic words, so much of it is careful observation, networks of information-gathering, and sharp deduction about the motives and politics of surrounding kings. Hild is very good at what she does because she has a sharp, quick mind that has been carefully trained, and because she has the aid of her mother's networks and then aid in building her own. Griffith does a wonderful job showing the reader what Hild sees, how she appreciates the world both for its own beauty and for the information she can gather from it, and how to build influence by navigating tense and dangerous moments: waiting for just the right moment and the right word, and taking sudden, impulsive risks and accepting their consequences. Unfortunately for me, this setting is also rich in complex politics and numerous actors, with older and unfamiliar names, and I got lost. Constantly. That's the drawback to immersion: Griffith doesn't hold the reader's hand. We get Hild's thoughts and analysis, and the reader has to keep up. Sometimes I did; sometimes I didn't. There's a dizzying flurry of names here, both personal and place, and while there is a map and a single family tree, neither helped me as much as I wanted them to. At several points, I found myself skimming through the latest shift in the balance between various petty kings because, while I knew I'd seen all the names before, they had come adrift from their context in the story. That was my major frustration with this book. It was all interesting enough that I would have kept thumbing back to a detailed dramatis personae, and indeed I kept checking the family tree, but there just wasn't enough detail there. Even better would have been a brief factual history of the political and military conflicts Hild was living through, keyed by chapter. Hild is startlingly intelligent, leaping from insight to insight, which is wonderful for building character, but which occasionally leaves the reader scrambling to catch up with the connections between her thoughts. I felt like, had I the broader context, I could have understood her insight more readily. All this information is likely available, since Griffith is playing off of documented history, but I'm not the sort of reader who likes doing Internet research while engrossed in a book. So, that's the downside, at least for me. But this book has many strengths, even if you're lost much of the time. Hild as written by Griffith is a fascinating character, full of sharp edges and difficult moods and a powerful belief in what she feels is right. Griffith is at the height of her writing ability when describing Hild making hard choices and taking on burdens that seem too large for her to bear. There are two sections of the book, where Hild is forced by circumstances to lead men in violence, that I think are two of the best bits of writing Griffith has ever published not just because of those scenes themselves, but because of the aftermath, the lingering echos, the way that they shape and inform everything Hild does afterwards. The mingling of reward and loss, maturation and trauma, the sense that the world has shifted both inside and out and it's nearly impossible to say whether the change is for the better or worse. Griffith also knows when not to say too much, and while I found that frustrating for the politics, it does wonders for the characters. Hild's complex and fraught relationship with Gwaldus is the best example. We never know exactly what Gwaldus is thinking; Hild can only guess, and at times one is fairly sure that she guesses wrong. But that doesn't lead to sudden revelations, where the characters finally understand each other. Instead, they both adjust, they maneuver around each other, they find space and understanding where they can, and sometimes they just close off. This book is full of relationships like this: loves that are too complicated for words, bonds that are too dangerous to acknowledge, and characters who can't relax even though they wish the best for each other. At times, it's exhausting reading, but it gives Hild a tension that one wouldn't expect from a sprawling novel full of description and scene-building. Hild is clearly the first book of a series, and leaves quite a lot unresolved. If you want closure in relationships and in politics, there's a lot here that you may find frustrating. And if, like me, you struggle to keep names and politics straight, you're probably going to get lost. But it's well worth the effort for the description, for Hild's thought processes, and for a few haunting scenes that I will be replaying in my head for a very long time. Expect to take your time with this, and wait until you're in the mood for immersion and puzzling out context as you go, but recommended. I suspect it would be even better on a second reading. Rating: 8 out of 10

As always, even though I've not been posting much, I'm still buying books. This is a catch-up post listing a variety of random purchases. Katherine Addison The Goblin Emperor (sff)
Milton Davis From Here to Timbuktu (sff)
Mark Forster How to Make Your Dreams Come True (non-fiction)
Angela Highland Valor of the Healer (sff)
Marko Kloos Terms of Enlistment (sff)
Angela Korra'ti Faerie Blood (sff)
Cixin Liu The Three-Body Problem (sff)
Emily St. John Mandel Station Eleven (sff)
Sydney Padua The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage (graphic novel)
Melissa Scott & Jo Graham The Order of the Air Omnibus (sff)
Andy Weir The Martian (sff) Huh, for some reason I thought I'd bought more than that. I picked up the rest of the Hugo nominees that aren't part of a slate, and as it happens have already read all the non-slate nominees at the time of this writing (although I'm horribly behind on reviews). I also picked up the first book of Marko Kloos's series, since he did the right thing and withdrew from the Hugos once it became clear what nonsense was going on this year. The rest is a pretty random variety of on-line recommendations, books by people who made sense on the Internet, and books by authors I like.

Review: The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, by Becky Chambers

Publisher:	CreateSpace
Copyright:	2014
ISBN:	1-5004-5330-7
Format:	Kindle
Pages:	503

The Wayfarer is a tunneling ship: one of the small, unremarked construction ships that help build the wormhole network used for interstellar transport. It's a working ship with a crew of eight (although most people would count seven and not count the AI). They don't all like each other particularly not the algaeist, who is remarkably unlikeable but they're used to each other. It's not a bad life, although a more professional attention to paperwork and procedure might help them land higher-paying jobs. That's where Rosemary Harper comes in. At the start of the book, she's joining the ship as their clerk: nervous, hopeful, uncertain, and not very experienced. But this is a way to get entirely away from her old life and, unbeknownst to the ship she's joining, her real name, identity, and anyone who would know her. Given that introduction, I was expecting this book to be primarily about Rosemary. What is she fleeing? Why did she change her identity? How will that past come to haunt her and the crew that she joined? But that's just the first place that Chambers surprised me. This isn't that book at all. It's something much quieter, more human, more expansive, and more joyful. For one, Chambers doesn't stick with Rosemary as a viewpoint character, either narratively or with the focus of the plot. The book may open with Rosemary and the captain, Ashby, as focal points, but that focus expands to include every member of the crew of the Wayfarer. We see each through others' eyes first, and then usually through their own, either in dialogue or directly. This is a true ensemble cast. Normally, for me, that's a drawback: large viewpoint casts tend to be either jarring or too sprawling, mixing people I want to read about with people I don't particularly care about. But Chambers avoids that almost entirely. I was occasionally a touch disappointed when the narrative focus shifted, but then I found myself engrossed in the backstory, hopes, and dreams of the next crew member, and the complex ways they interweave. Rosemary isn't the center of this story, but only because there's no single center. It's very hard to capture in a review what makes this book so special. The closest that I can come is that I like these people. They're individual, quirky, human (even the aliens; this is from more the Star Trek tradition of alien worldbuilding), complicated, and interesting, and it's very easy to care about them. Even characters I never expected to like. The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet does have a plot, but it's not a fast-moving or completely coherent one. The ship tends to wander, even when the mission that gives rise to the title turns up. And there are a lot of coincidences here, which may bother you if you're reading for plot. At multiple points, the ship ends up in exactly the right place to trigger some revelation about the backstory of one of the crew members, even if the coincidence strains credulity. Similar to the algae-driven fuel system, some things one just has to shrug about and move past. On other fronts, though, I found The Long Way to be refreshingly willing to take a hard look at SF assumptions. This is not the typical space opera: humans are a relatively minor species in this galaxy, one that made rather a mess of their planet and are now refugees. They are treated with sympathy or pity; they're not somehow more flexible, adaptable, or interesting than the rest of the galaxy. More fascinatingly to me, humans are mostly pacifists, a cultural reaction to the dire path through history that brought them to their current exile. This is set against a backdrop of a vibrant variety of alien species, several of whom are present onboard the Wayfinder. The history and background of the other species are not, sadly, as well fleshed out as the humans, but each with at least a few twists that add interest to the story. But the true magic of this book, the thing that it has in overwhelming abundance, is heart. Not everyone in this book is a good person, but most of them are trying. I've rarely read a book full of so much empathy and willingness to reach out to others with open hands. And, even better, they're all nice in different ways. They bring their own unique personalities and approaches to their relationships, particularly the complex web of relationships that connects the crew. When bad things happen, and, despite the overall light tone, a few very bad things happen, the crew rallies like friends, or like chosen family. I have to say it again: I like these people. Usually, that's not a good sign for a book, since wholly likeable people don't generate enough drama. But this is one of the better-executed "protagonist versus nature" plots I've read. It successfully casts the difficulties of making a living at a hard and lonely and political job as the "nature" that provides the conflict. This is a rather unusual book. It's probably best classified as space opera, but it doesn't fit the normal pattern of space opera and it doesn't have enough drama. It's not a book about changing the universe; at the end of the book, the universe is in pretty much the same shape as we found it. It's not even about the character introduced in the first pages, or really that much about her dilemma. And it's certainly not a book about winning a cunning victory against your enemies. What it is, rather, is a book about friendships, about chosen families and how they form, about being on someone else's side, about banding together while still being yourself. It's about people making a living in a hard universe, together. It's full of heart, and I loved it. I'm unsurprised that The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet had to be self-published via a Kickstarter campaign to find its audience. I'm also unsurprised that, once it got out there, it proved very popular and has now been picked up by a regular publisher. It's that sort of book. I believe it's currently out of print, at least in the US, as its new publisher spins up that process, but it should be back in print by late 2015. When that happens, I recommend it to your attention. It was the most emotionally satisfying book I've read so far this year. Rating: 9 out of 10

I've been a mostly happy Thinkpad owner for almost 15 years. My first Thinkpad was a 570, followed by an X40, an X61s, and an X220. There might have been one more in there, my archives only go back a decade. Although it's lately gotten harder to buy Thinkpads at UNB as Dell gets better contracts with our purchasing people, I've persevered, mainly because I'm used to the Trackpoint, and I like the availability of hardware service manuals. Overall I've been pleased with the engineering of the X series. Over the last few days I learned about the installation of the superfish malware on new Lenovo systems, and Lenovo's completely inadequate response to the revelation. I don't use Windows, so this malware would not have directly affected me (unless I had the misfortune to use this system to download installation media for some GNU/Linux distribution). Nonetheless, how can I trust the firmware installed by a company that seems to value its users' security and privacy so little? Unless Lenovo can show some sign of understanding the gravity of this mistake, and undertake not to repeat it, then I'm afraid you will be joining Sony on my list of vendors I used to consider buying from. Sure, it's only a gross income loss of $500 a year or so, if you assume I'm alone in this reaction. I don't think I'm alone in being disgusted and angered by this incident.

If someone would have told me that I would visit three feminist events this year I would have slowly nodded at them and responded with "yeah, sure..." not believing it. But sometimes things take their own turns. It all started with the Debian Women Mini-Debconf in Barcelona. The organizers did ask me how they have to word the call for papers so that I would feel invited to give a speech, which felt very welcoming and nice. So we settled for "people who identify themselves as female". Due to private circumstances I didn't prepare well for my talk, but I hope it was still worth it. The next interesting part though happened later when there were lightning talks. Someone on IRC asked why there are male people in the lightning talks, which was explicitly allowed for them only. This also felt very very nice, to be honest, that my talk wasn't questioned. Those are amongst the reasons why I wrote My place is here, my home is Debconf. Second event I went to was the FemCamp Wien. It was my first event that was a barcamp, I didn't know what to expect organization wise. Topic-wise it was set about Queer Feminism. And it was the first event that I went to which had a policy. Granted, there was an extremely silly written part in it, which naturally ended up in a shit storm on twitter (which people from both sides did manage very badly, which disappointed me). Denying that there is sexism against cis-males is just a bad idea, but the background of it was that this wasn't the topic of this event. The background of the policy was that usually barcamps but events in general aren't considered that save of a place for certain people, and that this barcamp wanted to make it clear that people usually shying away from such events in the fear of harassment can feel at home there.
And what can I say, this absolutely was the right thing to do. I never felt any more welcomed and included in any event, including Debian events sorry to say that so frankly. Making it clear through the policy that everyone is on the same boat with addressing each other respectfully totally managed to do exactly that. The first session of the event about dominant talk patterns and how to work around or against them also made sure that the rest of the event was giving shy people a chance to speak up and feel comfortable, too. And the range of the sessions that were held was simply great. This was the event that I came up with the pattern that I have to define the quality of an event on the sessions that I'm unable to attend. The thing that hurt me most in the afterthought was that I couldn't attend the session about minorities within minorities. :/ Last but not least I attended AdaCamp Berlin. This was a small unconference/barcamp dedicated to increase women's participation in open technology and culture named after Ada Lovelace who is considered the first programmer. It was a small event with only 50 slots for people who identify as women. So I was totally hyper when I received the mail that was accepted. It was another event with a policy, and at first reading it looked strange. But given that there are people who are allergic to ingredients of scents, it made sense to raise awareness of that topic. And given that women are facing a fair amount of harassment in the IT and at events, it also makes sense to remind people to behave. After all it was a general policy for all AdaCamps, not for this specific one with only women.
I enjoyed the event. Totally. And that's not only because I was able to meet up with a dear friend who I haven't talked to in years, literally. I enjoyed the environment, and the sessions that were going on. And quite similar to the FemCamp, it started off with a session that helped a lot for the rest of the event. This time it was about the Impostor Syndrome which is extremely common for women in IT. And what can I say, I found myself in one of the slides, given that I just tweeted the day before that I doubted to belong there. Frankly spoken, it even crossed my mind that I was only accepted so that at least one trans person is there. Which is pretty much what the impostor syndrome is all about, isn't it. But when I was there, it did feel right. And we had great sessions that I truly enjoyed. And I have to thank one lady once again for her great definition on feminism that she brought up during one session, which is roughly that feminism for her isn't about gender but equality of all people regardless their sexes or gender definition. It's about dropping this whole binary thinking. I couldn't agree more. All in all, I totally enjoyed these events, and hope that I'll be able to attend more next year. From what I grasped all three of them think of doing it again, the FemCamp Vienna already has the date announced at the end of this year's event, so I am looking forward to meet most of these fine ladies again, if faith permits. And keep in mind, there will always be critics and haters out there, but given that thy wouldn't think of attending such an event anyway in the first place, don't get wound up about it. They just try to talk you down. P.S.: Ah, almost forgot about one thing to mention, which also helps a lot to reduce some barrier for people to attend: The catering during the day and for lunch both at FemCamp and AdaCamp (there was no organized catering at the Debian Women Mini-Debconf) did take off the need for people to ask about whether there could be food without meat and dairy products by offering mostly Vegan food in the first place, even without having to query the participants. Often enough people otherwise choose to go out of the event or bring their own food instead of asking for it, so this is an extremely welcoming move, too. Way to go!

/personal permanent link Comments: 2 Flattr this

I haven't made one of these in a long time, so I have some catching from random purchases to do, which includes a (repurposed) nice parting gift from my previous employer and a trip to Powell's since I was in the area for DebConf14. This also includes the contents of the Hugo voter's packet, which contained a wide variety of random stuff even if some of the novels were represented only by excerpts. John Joseph Adams (ed.) The Mad Scientist's Guide to World Domination (sff anthology)
Roger McBride Allen The Ring of Charon (sff)
Roger McBride Allen The Shattered Sphere (sff)
Iain M. Banks The Hydrogen Sonata (sff)
Julian Barnes The Sense of an Ending (mainstream)
M. David Blake (ed.) 2014 Campbellian Anthology (sff anthology)
Algis Budrys Benchmarks Continued (non-fiction)
Algis Budrys Benchmarks Revisited (non-fiction)
Algis Budrys Benchmarks Concluded (non-fiction)
Edgar Rice Burroughs Carson of Venus (sff)
Wesley Chu The Lives of Tao (sff)
Ernest Cline Ready Player One (sff)
Larry Correia Hard Magic (sff)
Larry Correia Spellbound (sff)
Larry Correia Warbound (sff)
Sigrid Ellis & Michael Damien Thomas (ed.) Queer Chicks Dig Time Lords (non-fiction)
Neil Gaiman The Ocean at the End of the Lane (sff)
Max Gladstone Three Parts Dead (sff)
Max Gladstone Two Serpents Rise (sff)
S.L. Huang Zero Sum Game (sff)
Robert Jordan & Brandon Sanderson The Wheel of Time (sff)
Drew Karpyshyn Mass Effect: Revelation (sff)
Justin Landon & Jared Shurin (ed.) Speculative Fiction 2012 (non-fiction)
John J. Lumpkin Through Struggle, the Stars (sff)
L. David Marquet Turn the Ship Around! (non-fiction)
George R.R. Martin & Raya Golden Meathouse Man (graphic novel)
Ramez Naam Nexus (sff)
Eiichiro Oda One Piece Volume 1 (manga)
Eiichiro Oda One Piece Volume 2 (manga)
Eiichiro Oda One Piece Volume 3 (manga)
Eiichiro Oda One Piece Volume 4 (manga)
Alexei Panshin New Celebrations (sff)
K.J. Parker Devices and Desires (sff)
K.J. Parker Evil for Evil (sff)
Sofia Samatar A Stranger in Olondria (sff)
John Scalzi The Human Division (sff)
Jonathan Straham (ed.) Fearsome Journeys (sff anthology)
Vernor Vinge The Children of the Sky (sff)
Brian Wood & Becky Cloonan Demo (graphic novel)
Charles Yu How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe (sff) A whole bunch of this is from the Hugo voter's packet, and since the Hugos are over, much of that probably won't get prioritized. (I was very happy with the results of the voting, though.) Other than that, it's a very random collection of stuff, including a few things that I picked up based on James Nicoll's reviews. Now that I have a daily train commute, I should pick up the pace of reading, and as long as I can find enough time in my schedule to also write reviews, hopefully there will be more content in this blog shortly.