The Hugos suck

So Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke won a Hugo. I guess that’s not a surprise given the hype this book got and the way many point out to her Austen like language. Leaving aside the issue if that’s desirable to write in a style from two centuries ago, my major complaint is that while she has the technical side of the language down she is lacking the soul. Yes her language can be intoxicating, but there is not a single scene in the first 400 pages that doesn’t demand to be trimmed, and most need to be trimmed vigorously. Very few scenes in the first 400 pages do anything to advance a story and the author often seems unsure and unable to do that. Clarke’s use of Austen is a crutch to her story and while it can be beautiful it is oftentimes empty of meaning. Austen was a brilliant teller of story and Clarke often forgets she’s telling one.

And then there are the woman characters, or the lack of woman (and minority). Really all they are treasures to be saved and redeemed by men, white men to be exact. White whiny men.

And I shudder at the fear that this is the first in a trilogy.

Yet again a good indication that the Hugos are not a good award to base my reading list off.