The month's reviews have been, as usual, archived at the main Brightdreamer Books site. Enjoy, if so inclined.
Another year has apparently ended, so it's time for another Reading Year in Review.
January kicked off with Erin Entrada Kelly's middle-grade tale Hello, Universe, which never quite lived up to its potential. More impressive titles included a sci-fi historical thriller twist on the Cold War space race in Silvain Neuvel's A History of What Comes Next, a fascinating look at one of Earth's most catastrophic events in Riley Black's The Last Days of the Dinosaurs, another enjoyable installment in the Singing Hills Cycle of Asian-flavored fantasy in Nghi Vo's Mammoths at the Gates, and the story of one desperate girl driven to rescue a veritable stranger when nobody else will try in Dusti Bowling's Across the Desert. Other titles generally entertained me on some level, though I was notably disappointed by Amelie Wen Zhao's Song of Silver, Flame Like Night, and Stephen L. Kent's The Clone Assassin suffered mostly for being in the middle of a much longer series which I haven't read. The last book of the month wrapped up "A. Deborah Baker"'s (Seanan McGuire's) delightfully retro Up-and-Under fantasy adventure quartet with Under the Smokestrewn Sky.
I sampled a genre classic to start off February, Jack L. Chalker's sci-fi odyssey Midnight at the Well of Souls, and enjoyed some of the grand ideas and imagery even if it couldn't help showing its age. Another classic title, Cujo by Stephen King, held up better. The final installment of Josiah Bancroft's Books of Babel stumbled at the finish line with The Fall of Babel. I started Derek Landy's clever and adventurous middle-grade/young adult urban fantasy series, Skulduggery Pleasant, and knew right away I'd be following this one to the end. I also continued with Michael J. Sullivan's epic fantasy series, Chronicles of the First Empire, with Age of Swords, which nicely scratched the epic itch I'd been feeling, and began the graphic novel "Season Seven" of the Expanse television series (which also neatly slots into a time gap in between Books 6 and 7 in the written series) with The Expanse: Dragon Tooth, Volume 1 by Andy Diggle, which felt just like returning to a beloved series with pitch-perfect characters and writing. The month ended on a low note, unfortunately,
with a self-aware young adult thriller that ultimately failed to thrill: Danielle Valentine's How to Survive Your Murder.
Yet another old-school audiobook started March, Terry Pratchett's The Dragons at Crumbling Castle, which collects several stories from the author's younger years; even as a teenager, there were hints of the heights
he would later reach with Discworld and other titles. M. T. Anderson's Whales on Stilts delightfully skewered various genre tropes, kicking off his Pals in Peril series that I hope to follow through to the end
(though unfortunately my library doesn't seem to carry e-book or audiobook copies of the last volumes, dang it). Another fun middle-grade title took on junior detective tales, Mac Barnett's The Case of the Case of Mistaken
Identity, though Kara LaReau's silly adventures of the Bland sisters in The Jolly Regina didn't trigger the giggles as often as I'd hoped. Dimitra Papagianni and Michael A. Morse offered a new look at our
extinct cousin species in The Lost Neanderthal, attempting to erase some denigrating myths and misconceptions. I returned to K. Eason's "multiverse" mashup of fantasy and and sci-fi in the Arithmancy and Anarchy
milieu as it moved into darker, more adult territory, kicking off with the excellent Nightwatch on the Hinterlands. Other noteworthy titles included the surprisingly intriguing Domesticating Dragons by Dan Koboldt and the mildly disappointing (given all the hype I've heard over the years) A Night in the Lonesome October by Roger Zelazny.
April showers flooded into a harrowing story of survival on the Amazon River in Holly FitzGerald's Ruthless River and ended in the fascinatingly intricate epic fantasy city of Kithamar in Daniel Abraham's Age
of Ash. Between, I explored the psychology of fandom in Tabitha Carvan's This is Not a Book About Benedict Cumberbatch, ventured through a variety of real-life adventures in Douglas Preston's The Lost Tomb, snickered at the low-brow humor of the classic picture book The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales by Joe Scieszka and the second Pals in Peril installment The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen by M. T. Anderson, and explored a noir future where the elite literally tower over the populace (yet aren't beyond reach of a murderer) in Nick Harkaway's Titanium Noir. Seanan McGuire's Wayward Children portal fantasy deconstructions returned with an intriguing shop of lost things from countless worlds in Mislaid in Parts Half-Unknown, while the second installment of Derek Landy's Skulduggery Pleasant series, Playing With Fire, maintained the pacing and humor (and flirtation with Lovecraftian-tinged horror) of the first book. Top marks went to the gorgeous multicultural picture book The Truth About Dragons by Julie Leung.
While May didn't have any outright clunkers, it also didn't bring many brilliant standouts. Opening with the often-gruesome modern riff on Jonah in Daniel Kraus's Whalefall, a mixed reading bag awaited me. M. T. Anderson's perpetually-imperiled young "pals" returned in Jasper Dash and the Flame-Pits of Delaware as the month's only sequel, the rest being standalones (save Steve Cole's moderately entertaining and definitely different Z. Rex and another M. T. Anderson title, the less-satiric, somewhat darker fantasy The Game of Sunken Places). Charles Yu took a surreal, scriptlike approach to Asian stereotyping in Interior Chinatown, while Erica Bauermeister tracked the journey of a debut novelist's breakout hit through various readers in No Two Persons. I ended the month with a memoir by a trans actor chronicling their ongoing discovery of their true identity in Elliot Page's Pageboy.
June started with a disappointment, Sara Wolf's far-future tale of fighting mechas and social injustice in Heavenbreaker, but ended on a better note with Katherine Arden's middle-grade horror tale Dark Waters,
third in her Small Spaces quartet. The month's clear high spot was Shannon Chakraborty's historical fantasy swashbuckler The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, and Michael J. Sullivan continued to impress with Age of
War. After much anticipation, I found myself underwhelmed by Hannah Kaner's Godkiller, and M. T. Anderson's fourth Pals in Peril novel Agent Q, or the Smell of Danger! started feeling a touch stretched but
was still mostly fun.
I began July with a decent little tale of a sapient ink blob in Kenneth Oppel's Inkling. The month contained more than one disappointment, though. Helene Tursten's collection of tales about an old serial killer, An
Elderly Lady is Up To No Good and Stuart Turton's literary look at the twilight of humanity in The Last Murder at the End of the World failed to quite live up to their respective expectations, and the collaboration between M. T. Anderson and artist Eugene Yelchin, The Assassination of Brangwain Spurge, probably should not have been presented as an audiobook given that doing so cut out almost half the book in the form of Yelchin's illustrated chapters. Megan E. O'Keefe's The Blighted Stars took a little too long to gain traction, but was more or less enjoyable, even though I preferred her Protectorate trilogy. The month's high point was T. Kingfisher's superb fantasy novella Nettle and Bone, with Andy Diggle's graphic novel The Expanse: Dragon Tooth, Volume 2 as a close second. Morgan Housel offered some perspective on modern times in Same as Ever, and Scott Westerfield kicked off a science-based middle-grade adventure series with Horizon.
Katherine Arden's Empty Smiles wrapped up the Small Spaces horror quartet and started August off on a good foot, as did the next book, Suzanne Collins's Hunger Games prequel The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Other high points
were Bookshops and Bonedust by Travis Baldree, The Faceless Ones by Derek Landy, and the epic conclusion to K. Eason's Weep duology in the Arithmancy and Anarchy series, Nightwatch Over Windscar, with
a surprise top mark for Kiyash Monsef's story of a girl discovering her link to magical beasts in Once There Was. I continued Michael J. Sullivan's Legends of the First Empire series, clearing the fourth and fifth entries in the six-book sequence (Age of Legend and Age of Death), which made me question whether there were indeed six novels worth of material in the story he was spinning. A couple nonfiction titles made it into the reading queue, both of which turned out to be interesting in their own ways: an examination of the ways the human brain can deceive itself in Oliver Sacks's Hallucinations and the story of an adventurer's disappearance and likely death in the Himalayas in Harley Rustad's Lost in the Valley of Death. A fictionalized middle-grade retelling of a First Nations legend (Nasuġraq Rainey Hopson's Eagle Drums, a historical fiction tale (Paulette Jile's News of the World), and a somewhat disappointing Korean-inspired space adventure (Elaine U. Cho's Ocean's Godori) rounded out the month.
September opened with one of the month's top reads, V. E. Scwab's gothic-tinged horror/fantasy Gallant, and ended with the lighthearted graphic novel CatStronauts: Mission Moon by Drew Brockington. In the middle
was the usual mix of good and not-quite-so-good reads and genres. Daniel Abraham continued to expand and explore his fantasy city of Kithamar with Blade of Dream, while Derek Landy seemed to slightly rush a series transition point in the Skulduggery Pleasant series with Dark Days. A historical naval tragedy was examined in David Grann's The Wager, my only nonfiction title of the month. I visited the reign of Cleopatra in the historical mystery Death of an Eye by Dana Stabenow, and mostly enjoyed the end of the world with a romantic island vacation gone horribly wrong in Zero Stars, Do Not Recommend by MJ Wassmer. Jane Yolen's How to Fracture a Fairy Tale collected many of her fairy tale retellings, some familiar and some new to me, with some extra notes and poems. It also marked the end of an era, as I switched site hosts from iPowerWeb to DreamHost. (The former is a fine host, but both too expensive and too robust for my modest needs.)
October appropriately featured more than one thriller and ghost story. It launched with Karen M. McManus's tale of high school social media turned deadly in One of Us Is Lying, a solidly good tale. I was, unfortunately, less enthused by Christina Henry's thriller Good Girls Don't Die, which dropped three women into horrific situations straight out of their favorite fictional genres, and Kelly Armstrong's Hemlock Island, the story of a cursed private home in the Great Lakes. The classics were represented by my first foray into Oscar Wilde's works, the short story collection Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and Other Stories, which had some inevitable dating but were interesting nevertheless. I ticked two more entries in Derek Landy's Skulduggery Pleasant series off with Mortal Coil and the less impressive novella Apocalypse Kings; Landy wrote the latter standalone well after finishing the main series, and I think it showed that he was out of the groove. For nonfiction, I revisited several terrible days in history with the time traveler's handy guide How to Survive History by Cody Cassidy, explored how humans inevitably project our own mindsets and moralities everywhere (to the detriment of science and conservation) with Lucy Cooke's The Truth About Animals, and took on linguistic elitism with June Casagrande's amusing Grammar Snobs are Great Big Meanies, which turned out to be the best thing I read that month. It wrapped up with a near-future lunar thriller that was less exciting than I'd hoped, David Pedreira's Gunpowder Moon.
I only managed seven books in November, though they were more or less decent reads. Nino Cipri mashed up parallel dimensions and modern retail in Finna. More genre reads followed, with Charlie Jane Anderson's tale of a planet split by extremes in The City in the Middle of the Night and the story of a math prodigy taking on a psychic supervillain in S. L. Huang's Zero Sum Game, plus the somewhat amusing but ultimately overlong The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. by Neal Stephenson and Nicole Galland. An older young adult thriller had an inexplicable "update" in Lois Duncan's Down a Dark Hall. The best read of the month was also the most timely (and ultimately depressing) Why Does Everything Have to Be About Race? by Keith Boykin; reading this after America basically opted to hand democracy over to a convicted rapist and traitor and openly anti-democratic authoritarian who ran on a promise to violate the Constitution rather than even attempt addressing the inequities underlying so many things hurting our nation added another sad twist of that knife. The last read of the month was Jaime Greene's look at how scientists and speculative fiction approach the matter of extraterrestrial life in The Possibility of Life.
December did not start with me in a festive spirit, for obvious reasons. I tried regaining some hope with a book on the ins and outs of organizing effective resistance, Let This Radicalize You by Kelly Hayes and Miriame Kaba, though unfortunately not much of it was applicable to my circumstances. Christina Lynch's Pony Confidential was interesting, somewhat entertaining, and occasionally profound and touching, though it seemed misbilled by its cover and official descriptions. Another popular title, Mike Herron's spy caper Slow Horses, intrigued me but had some stumbling points. I sampled a Japanese cozy fantasy about a cafe where one can time travel in a limited capacity, Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi, with tepid results. But the end of the month and the holiday season were significantly overshadowed. My elderly father - the man who helped inspire my love of reading in general and SFF in particular - finally entered home hospice care due to ongoing health issues and worsening dementia. Between the time and physical effort of assisting with his care, the emotional toll, and the stress of dealing with both the impending loss and the uncertainty of the "after", I just plain cannot invest headspace in much reading now. I did manage to finish off the "Season Seven" Expanse graphic novel tie-in with Dragon Tooth: Volume 3 by Andy Diggle, based on the TV series and books created by James S. A. Corey, to wrap up the year, though I admittedly read more for distraction than full immersion.
There were some good bits here and there, if I stand back and squint, but overall, as I look backwards from the end of an exceptionally damp, dark, and dismal December, I'd say 2024 was a terrible year and 2025 is unlikely to be better on any conceivable level. But, hey, at least there's books. For now, at least...
Tuesday, December 31, 2024
Saturday, December 28, 2024
The Expanse: Dragon Tooth, Volume 3 (Andy Diggle)
The Expanse: Dragon Tooth, Volume 3
The Expanse: Dragon Tooth series, Issues 9 - 12
Andy Diggle and James S. A. Corey (creators), illustrations by Francesco Pisa
BOOM! Studios
Fiction, Graphic Novel/Media Tie-In/Sci-Fi
****+ (Good/Great)
DESCRIPTION: It has been ten years since the sleeper "dragon tooth" agents left behind by General Duarte and the Martian defectors - currently on the far side of the Laconia ring, under complete radio silence - caused trouble for the system, but that does not mean they have forgotten their old master and their standing orders... or that they have not been working toward the destruction of Earth, Mars, and the Belters. When an Earth diplomat dies under suspicious circumstances while en route to Luna, it signals the coming end game for the saboteurs - and possibly the end of everything that Avasarala, Drummer, and the aging crew of the Rocinante have labored to rebuild.
REVIEW: The "Season Seven" story arc wraps up in a suitably explosive, action-packed finale with this third and final volume of the Dragon Tooth storyline. With another time jump, the characters are showing their age, continuing to fill the gap between the sixth and seventh novels but on the parallel timeline established by the television series. The core cast is distinctly older but no less capable or determined to protect the hard-won peace of the system... just as their enemies are no less determined to see it all destroyed. As the crew of the Roci race to identify the threat, the sleeper agents are perpetually one step ahead of them, leading to a nail-biter climax and a fitting final scene that segues well into the events of Strange Dogs and Persepolis Rising, the next books in the greater arc. I almost thought the characters felt a little short-changed in the rush to tie up the storyline, but this is primarily an action plot, and everyone has their own parts to play in the unfolding crisis. It earned the extra half-star for continuing to capture the feel of the series, which I've missed more than I realized.
On an unrelated side note, the tail end of December may have seemed a little sparse on reviews. That is because many of my reviews are audiobooks that I listen to at work, and I have had to take some time off due to a family crisis. My elderly father's physical and mental health have been worsening for some time, and a recent medical crisis finally tipped things over the line from controlled decline to the final countdown, as it were. As of this review, he is currently under home hospice care. He is the man who helped introduce me to reading in general and science fiction in particular, a lifelong fan who was active in the local fannish community for many years, and his impending loss is a black hole in my life. I should have been a better person with him for a father, and I feel that failure every day. Between this and the horrific betrayal of hope that was the November election, I utterly and sincerely wish with every fiber of my being that 2024 burns in the deepest possible depths of whichever Hell will take it... and it can preemptively take 2025 and beyond with it into the abyss.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Red Rising (Pierce Brown) - My Review
The Expanse: Dragon Tooth, Volume 1 (Andy Diggle) - My Review
The Stars Now Unclaimed (Drew Williams) - My Review
The Expanse: Dragon Tooth series, Issues 9 - 12
Andy Diggle and James S. A. Corey (creators), illustrations by Francesco Pisa
BOOM! Studios
Fiction, Graphic Novel/Media Tie-In/Sci-Fi
****+ (Good/Great)
DESCRIPTION: It has been ten years since the sleeper "dragon tooth" agents left behind by General Duarte and the Martian defectors - currently on the far side of the Laconia ring, under complete radio silence - caused trouble for the system, but that does not mean they have forgotten their old master and their standing orders... or that they have not been working toward the destruction of Earth, Mars, and the Belters. When an Earth diplomat dies under suspicious circumstances while en route to Luna, it signals the coming end game for the saboteurs - and possibly the end of everything that Avasarala, Drummer, and the aging crew of the Rocinante have labored to rebuild.
REVIEW: The "Season Seven" story arc wraps up in a suitably explosive, action-packed finale with this third and final volume of the Dragon Tooth storyline. With another time jump, the characters are showing their age, continuing to fill the gap between the sixth and seventh novels but on the parallel timeline established by the television series. The core cast is distinctly older but no less capable or determined to protect the hard-won peace of the system... just as their enemies are no less determined to see it all destroyed. As the crew of the Roci race to identify the threat, the sleeper agents are perpetually one step ahead of them, leading to a nail-biter climax and a fitting final scene that segues well into the events of Strange Dogs and Persepolis Rising, the next books in the greater arc. I almost thought the characters felt a little short-changed in the rush to tie up the storyline, but this is primarily an action plot, and everyone has their own parts to play in the unfolding crisis. It earned the extra half-star for continuing to capture the feel of the series, which I've missed more than I realized.
On an unrelated side note, the tail end of December may have seemed a little sparse on reviews. That is because many of my reviews are audiobooks that I listen to at work, and I have had to take some time off due to a family crisis. My elderly father's physical and mental health have been worsening for some time, and a recent medical crisis finally tipped things over the line from controlled decline to the final countdown, as it were. As of this review, he is currently under home hospice care. He is the man who helped introduce me to reading in general and science fiction in particular, a lifelong fan who was active in the local fannish community for many years, and his impending loss is a black hole in my life. I should have been a better person with him for a father, and I feel that failure every day. Between this and the horrific betrayal of hope that was the November election, I utterly and sincerely wish with every fiber of my being that 2024 burns in the deepest possible depths of whichever Hell will take it... and it can preemptively take 2025 and beyond with it into the abyss.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Red Rising (Pierce Brown) - My Review
The Expanse: Dragon Tooth, Volume 1 (Andy Diggle) - My Review
The Stars Now Unclaimed (Drew Williams) - My Review
Friday, December 13, 2024
Before the Coffee Gets Cold (Toshikazu Kawaguchi)
Before the Coffee Gets Cold
The Before the Coffee Gets Cold series, Book 1
Toshikazu Kawaguchi, translated by Geoffrey Trousselot
Hanover Square Press
Fiction, Fantasy/Literary Fiction
*** (Okay)
DESCRIPTION: There are plenty of flashy eateries in Tokyo, but only one with a unique secret. In a nondescript back alley, down a short flight of stairs, lies the café named Funiculi Funicula. It's a small, quiet establishment where a visitor can get home-churned butter, strong coffee brewed from Ethiopian beans... and, in a chair normally occupied by a ghost, one can travel back in time.
There are rules, of course. They must wait until the ghost leaves the chair on her own or face a terrible curse. Travelers can't leave the chair, let alone the building, so they can only visit people whom they know will be in the café when they choose to arrive. Nothing they do or say will change the present. Nobody can travel more than once, so they need to make their one journey worthwhile. And they must return to the here and now before their coffee gets cold, or they'll end up replacing the resident ghost.
Many dismiss it as an urban legend, and those who don't consider it next to useless: after all, with all the restrictions, what is the point of such limited time travel? But for a handful of customers at Funiculi Funicula - a career-driven woman who may have lost her one chance at personal happiness, the wife who is losing her husband to dementia, a family black sheep seeking to undo her greatest regret, and a woman determined to find out if her greatest sacrifice was in vain - those precious few minutes before the coffee cools are worth their weight in gold.
REVIEW: I was intrigued by the concept and the low-key stakes (I wasn't in the mood for anything big at the moment), and once again the length made it ideal to slot into the listening lineup on my Libby app for a workday. While Before the Coffee Gets Cold does deliver what it promises, it also dithers, repeats, and meanders to the point of irritation, drawing out foregone conclusions and seeming to forget its own time constraints to milk every moment for extra word count, all to the detriment of the rating.
The reader "meets" the café with businesswoman Fumiko and the conversation where she loses the man she'd hoped to marry as he chooses an overseas career over staying in Tokyo... only later realizing the serendipitous fact that her fateful meeting took place in the one place where a do-over was possible. The barista Kazu then explains the rules, including the need to deal with the ghostly woman who normally occupies the special chair and the various restrictions on time travel, leading to Fumiko's transit into the past - where her emotions cause her to hem and haw and quite nearly bungle things worse than the first time around. This pattern hold true for every other transit, even by people more familiar with the café and the whole time travel deal: a woman suffering some manner of heartache or loss hems and haws, finally travels through time, then undergoes such extreme emotional swings and distress they can barely gasp out the words they violated the flow of the space-time continuum to speak. At first it adds to the atmosphere and characterization, but there comes to be a sameness to how the women get overemotional before, during, and after the journeys, and how their stories are drawn out with repetition after repetition after repetition (after repetition after repetition) of dialog, details, memories, feelings, and more. I think the book would've been half as long had just a fraction of those repetitions been trimmed. The last story grinds in the overall themes of personal sacrifice for the sake of love and draws out its foregone conclusions by making the characters too oblivious to clue in to facts so obvious they might as well have been written in neon lights across the walls of Funiculi Funicula.
While I could appreciate the interesting concept, the low-key intimate stakes of time travel on a personal scale, and the decently-drawn characters and situations (when said characters and situations weren't being wrung out like a wet cloth to squeeze every last word-drop out of their fibers), and some of the emotions rung deep and true, at some point I was just grinding my teeth wanting everyone to stop dithering and get on with their stories already. (Especially that last one... one of the fastest ways to make me lose my empathy for a character is to make them less intelligent than the cooling cup of coffee in their hands just to pad word count).
You Might Also Enjoy:
Flux (Jinwoo Chong) - My Review
11/22/63 (Stephen King) - My Review
Oona Out of Order (Margarita Montimore) - My Review
The Before the Coffee Gets Cold series, Book 1
Toshikazu Kawaguchi, translated by Geoffrey Trousselot
Hanover Square Press
Fiction, Fantasy/Literary Fiction
*** (Okay)
DESCRIPTION: There are plenty of flashy eateries in Tokyo, but only one with a unique secret. In a nondescript back alley, down a short flight of stairs, lies the café named Funiculi Funicula. It's a small, quiet establishment where a visitor can get home-churned butter, strong coffee brewed from Ethiopian beans... and, in a chair normally occupied by a ghost, one can travel back in time.
There are rules, of course. They must wait until the ghost leaves the chair on her own or face a terrible curse. Travelers can't leave the chair, let alone the building, so they can only visit people whom they know will be in the café when they choose to arrive. Nothing they do or say will change the present. Nobody can travel more than once, so they need to make their one journey worthwhile. And they must return to the here and now before their coffee gets cold, or they'll end up replacing the resident ghost.
Many dismiss it as an urban legend, and those who don't consider it next to useless: after all, with all the restrictions, what is the point of such limited time travel? But for a handful of customers at Funiculi Funicula - a career-driven woman who may have lost her one chance at personal happiness, the wife who is losing her husband to dementia, a family black sheep seeking to undo her greatest regret, and a woman determined to find out if her greatest sacrifice was in vain - those precious few minutes before the coffee cools are worth their weight in gold.
REVIEW: I was intrigued by the concept and the low-key stakes (I wasn't in the mood for anything big at the moment), and once again the length made it ideal to slot into the listening lineup on my Libby app for a workday. While Before the Coffee Gets Cold does deliver what it promises, it also dithers, repeats, and meanders to the point of irritation, drawing out foregone conclusions and seeming to forget its own time constraints to milk every moment for extra word count, all to the detriment of the rating.
The reader "meets" the café with businesswoman Fumiko and the conversation where she loses the man she'd hoped to marry as he chooses an overseas career over staying in Tokyo... only later realizing the serendipitous fact that her fateful meeting took place in the one place where a do-over was possible. The barista Kazu then explains the rules, including the need to deal with the ghostly woman who normally occupies the special chair and the various restrictions on time travel, leading to Fumiko's transit into the past - where her emotions cause her to hem and haw and quite nearly bungle things worse than the first time around. This pattern hold true for every other transit, even by people more familiar with the café and the whole time travel deal: a woman suffering some manner of heartache or loss hems and haws, finally travels through time, then undergoes such extreme emotional swings and distress they can barely gasp out the words they violated the flow of the space-time continuum to speak. At first it adds to the atmosphere and characterization, but there comes to be a sameness to how the women get overemotional before, during, and after the journeys, and how their stories are drawn out with repetition after repetition after repetition (after repetition after repetition) of dialog, details, memories, feelings, and more. I think the book would've been half as long had just a fraction of those repetitions been trimmed. The last story grinds in the overall themes of personal sacrifice for the sake of love and draws out its foregone conclusions by making the characters too oblivious to clue in to facts so obvious they might as well have been written in neon lights across the walls of Funiculi Funicula.
While I could appreciate the interesting concept, the low-key intimate stakes of time travel on a personal scale, and the decently-drawn characters and situations (when said characters and situations weren't being wrung out like a wet cloth to squeeze every last word-drop out of their fibers), and some of the emotions rung deep and true, at some point I was just grinding my teeth wanting everyone to stop dithering and get on with their stories already. (Especially that last one... one of the fastest ways to make me lose my empathy for a character is to make them less intelligent than the cooling cup of coffee in their hands just to pad word count).
You Might Also Enjoy:
Flux (Jinwoo Chong) - My Review
11/22/63 (Stephen King) - My Review
Oona Out of Order (Margarita Montimore) - My Review
Let This Radicalize You (Kelly Hayes and Mariame Kaba)
Let This Radicalize You: Organizing and the Revolution of Reciprocal Care (Abolitionist Papers)
Kelly Hayes and Mariame Kaba
Haymarket Books
Nonfiction, Essays/History/Politics
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: It's no secret that we're living in turbulent times. The rolling back of rights, the gutting of environmental regulations just as climate change approaches a dangerous tipping point, the removal of any and all guardrails on greed, the rise of state violence, the stripping of viable venues and options for protest and dissent... not just in America, but around the world, it seems that cruelty, regression, greed, and authoritarianism are on the rise. But giving up has never been an option. In this book, two experienced leaders and organizers explore how to effectively resist in a time that seems openly hostile to resistance.
REVIEW: Since November this year (2024), I've been struggling to find anything resembling hope for the future of the country I live in and coming up with little to nothing, not helped by the fact that I'm not in a position to do much, if anything, about any of the innumerable dangers looming in the new year and beyond (dangers that are already here in some form or another). Don't give up, fight back, is the rallying cry on social media and elsewhere. Where? How? I ask, only to be told once more that if I don't do something and just give up They win. I was hoping this title would help answer those questions, or at least give me some ideas... or hope. Did it manage any of that? A little.
From the outset, it's clear that this book isn't quite targeting me. It's targeting current and would-be leaders and activists, offering advice not just on how to effectively recruit and organize people but on how to avoid burnout, mission creep, losing focus, and other risks, as well as some advice on dealing with the inevitable pushback one will encounter when challenging the status quo, legal and otherwise. A fair bit of word count is devoted to the importance of community and mutual support, not just for political or activism purposes but basic life needs. A vital community, one not reliant on social media (which is useful, to be sure, but, as has been illustrated all too clearly with "X" and others, not something one can rely on for privacy or even safe and neutral discussion), is the essential heart of any remotely successful activism group. The authors address the need to learn social skills and patient listening (skills that have fallen out of common practice in today's age of instant digital gratification and intentionally fractured attention spans), finding ways to meet people where they are and seek common cause for mutual benefit. They also emphasize the need to avoid the creep of dread and cynicism that can paralyze us and end resistance before it begins, essentially complying in advance. That's one heck of an ask, especially in 2024, but necessary just for basic survival.
For people better positioned to start or join activism and resistance efforts, this book offers plenty of information and moral support, plus appendices with practical links (such as how to deal with chemical weapons that police commonly unleash on rallies, and how to resist unlawful law enforcement action). That person may not be me for various reasons of life circumstances (plus me being me; there's a reason the number one advice I was given growing up was that the best way I could help was to stay out of the way, as I'm both congenitally invisible and basically useless), but it was still interesting to get an inside look at how more effective people can rally and organize and, every once in a while, actually succeed. That's hopeful, at least.
You Might Also Enjoy:
I'm Not Dying With You Tonight (Kimberly Jones and Gilly Segal) - My Review
What Unites Us (Dan Rather and Elias Kirshner) - My Review
The Hate U Give (Angie Thomas) - My Review
Kelly Hayes and Mariame Kaba
Haymarket Books
Nonfiction, Essays/History/Politics
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: It's no secret that we're living in turbulent times. The rolling back of rights, the gutting of environmental regulations just as climate change approaches a dangerous tipping point, the removal of any and all guardrails on greed, the rise of state violence, the stripping of viable venues and options for protest and dissent... not just in America, but around the world, it seems that cruelty, regression, greed, and authoritarianism are on the rise. But giving up has never been an option. In this book, two experienced leaders and organizers explore how to effectively resist in a time that seems openly hostile to resistance.
REVIEW: Since November this year (2024), I've been struggling to find anything resembling hope for the future of the country I live in and coming up with little to nothing, not helped by the fact that I'm not in a position to do much, if anything, about any of the innumerable dangers looming in the new year and beyond (dangers that are already here in some form or another). Don't give up, fight back, is the rallying cry on social media and elsewhere. Where? How? I ask, only to be told once more that if I don't do something and just give up They win. I was hoping this title would help answer those questions, or at least give me some ideas... or hope. Did it manage any of that? A little.
From the outset, it's clear that this book isn't quite targeting me. It's targeting current and would-be leaders and activists, offering advice not just on how to effectively recruit and organize people but on how to avoid burnout, mission creep, losing focus, and other risks, as well as some advice on dealing with the inevitable pushback one will encounter when challenging the status quo, legal and otherwise. A fair bit of word count is devoted to the importance of community and mutual support, not just for political or activism purposes but basic life needs. A vital community, one not reliant on social media (which is useful, to be sure, but, as has been illustrated all too clearly with "X" and others, not something one can rely on for privacy or even safe and neutral discussion), is the essential heart of any remotely successful activism group. The authors address the need to learn social skills and patient listening (skills that have fallen out of common practice in today's age of instant digital gratification and intentionally fractured attention spans), finding ways to meet people where they are and seek common cause for mutual benefit. They also emphasize the need to avoid the creep of dread and cynicism that can paralyze us and end resistance before it begins, essentially complying in advance. That's one heck of an ask, especially in 2024, but necessary just for basic survival.
For people better positioned to start or join activism and resistance efforts, this book offers plenty of information and moral support, plus appendices with practical links (such as how to deal with chemical weapons that police commonly unleash on rallies, and how to resist unlawful law enforcement action). That person may not be me for various reasons of life circumstances (plus me being me; there's a reason the number one advice I was given growing up was that the best way I could help was to stay out of the way, as I'm both congenitally invisible and basically useless), but it was still interesting to get an inside look at how more effective people can rally and organize and, every once in a while, actually succeed. That's hopeful, at least.
You Might Also Enjoy:
I'm Not Dying With You Tonight (Kimberly Jones and Gilly Segal) - My Review
What Unites Us (Dan Rather and Elias Kirshner) - My Review
The Hate U Give (Angie Thomas) - My Review
Thursday, December 12, 2024
Graven Images (Paul Fleischman)
Graven Images
Paul Fleischman
Candlewick
Fiction, YA? Collection/Historical Fiction
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Noted author Paul Fleischman presents three short stories centered on sculpted images:
The Binnacle Boy: When the crew of the sailing ship Orion is found dead, the carved "binnacle boy" compass holder from the ship's deck is installed in the town square as a memorial... one that may eventually reveal the terrible secret behind the tragedy.
Saint Crispin's Follower: A cobbler's lovelorn apprentice reads signs and portents into a weathercock shaped in the likeness of Saint Crispin, patron of his profession.
The Man of Influence: A stonecarver takes a commission from a ghostly client, only to learn truths he'd rather never have known about his wealthy patrons.
REVIEW: I needed a short audiobook to fill some empty time at work, and this one was available. From the official description, I expected there to be a little more to the sculptures themselves, a little more of a twist to them, though that's likely a bias from tending to read speculative fiction far more than regular fiction. In any event, the stories themselves are decent, though at times they feel like they're stretching their premises. The middle tale in particular runs long once the characters and central gimmick are clear. I found the third story to be the most interesting, as a sculptor obsessed with the class and breeding of his usual clientele is forced to confront just what kind of people have been paying his bills, and what that makes him for serving them so eagerly for years. It came close to losing a half-mark for that sense of stretching, but I gave the collection the benefit of the doubt.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Quill Pen (Michelle Isenhoff) - My Review
Ghost Ship (Dietlof Reiche) - My Review
Rogue Wave (Theodore Taylor) - My Review
Paul Fleischman
Candlewick
Fiction, YA? Collection/Historical Fiction
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Noted author Paul Fleischman presents three short stories centered on sculpted images:
The Binnacle Boy: When the crew of the sailing ship Orion is found dead, the carved "binnacle boy" compass holder from the ship's deck is installed in the town square as a memorial... one that may eventually reveal the terrible secret behind the tragedy.
Saint Crispin's Follower: A cobbler's lovelorn apprentice reads signs and portents into a weathercock shaped in the likeness of Saint Crispin, patron of his profession.
The Man of Influence: A stonecarver takes a commission from a ghostly client, only to learn truths he'd rather never have known about his wealthy patrons.
REVIEW: I needed a short audiobook to fill some empty time at work, and this one was available. From the official description, I expected there to be a little more to the sculptures themselves, a little more of a twist to them, though that's likely a bias from tending to read speculative fiction far more than regular fiction. In any event, the stories themselves are decent, though at times they feel like they're stretching their premises. The middle tale in particular runs long once the characters and central gimmick are clear. I found the third story to be the most interesting, as a sculptor obsessed with the class and breeding of his usual clientele is forced to confront just what kind of people have been paying his bills, and what that makes him for serving them so eagerly for years. It came close to losing a half-mark for that sense of stretching, but I gave the collection the benefit of the doubt.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Quill Pen (Michelle Isenhoff) - My Review
Ghost Ship (Dietlof Reiche) - My Review
Rogue Wave (Theodore Taylor) - My Review
Wednesday, December 11, 2024
Slow Horses (Mike Herron)
Slow Horses
The Slough House series, Book 1
Mike Herron
Soho Crime
Fiction, Mystery/Thriller
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: The agents of MI5 are among the world's best, protecting England from enemies foreign and domestic... but anyone can stumble, fumble, or run afoul of office politics. The ones who aren't bad enough to fire (or are too politically sensitive to let go) end up at Slough House, home of the department's misfits and screw-ups. It's officially said that Slough House offers a chance at reform, but in practice it's the last stop before resignation - and if they don't quit on their own, the "slow horses" are saddled with openly pointless and tedious assignments until they get the hint and leave. The only ones who hang around more than a few months are the ones too oblivious to realize the snub, or the ones too broken to care about anything anymore, even themselves.
River Cartwright was a bright up-and-comer in the agency until a fouled training exercise resulted in real-world problems. Only the fact that his grandfather was a legend in MI5 saved him from being sacked outright, but being reassigned to Slough House under the doughy, washed-up veteran Jackson Lamb isn't much better than a firing, and he knows it. Surrounded by fellow outcasts, River clings grimly to the thin chance of redemption, not willing to let himself believe that his career is over before it properly began. When a London teenager is abducted by an extremist right-wing group and threatened with an online beheading, he and the other Slough House misfits can only seethe at their ineffectiveness... but a series of managerial missteps instead lands the agents right in the middle of a massive departmental mess centered around the kidnapping - and if they can't unravel the tangled threads and figure out what's really going on, they'll be the ones thrown under the bus by a ruthless and desperate deputy-director.
REVIEW: Not subscribing to Apple+, I have not seen the streaming series inspired by this book, but I was intrigued by the concept. It turns out to be a decent spy thriller, if one that sometimes overplays its tension by drawing out reveals and twists (and has a few elements that subtly set my teeth on edge).
Opening with River and the botched training exercise that derails his career (ironically in the London Underground), it introduces Slough House almost as a character itself, a run-down edifice where the hopelessness and misery are baked into the peeling Formica and yellowed paint, full of agents who seem to be going through the motions of existing more out of habit than out of any remaining aspirations about their lives, let alone their dead-ended careers. River struggles to cling to his sense of purpose, even as some part of him recognizes the truth: he's only still drawing a paycheck because his retired grandfather's reputation still carries some weight at the MI5 headquarters in Regent's Park, and he is expected to be a good little agent and resign so none of the top brass have to ruffle feathers by firing an agent of his pedigree. He perseveres in no small part because he knows in his bones that he didn't mess things up on his own; his partner and best friend (or so he thought) fed him bad intel, seemingly sacrificing River to further his own career. Still, he has no idea how he'll clear his name from Slough House, when the head agent Lamb pretty much tells him point-blank that the gruntwork he's doing - sorting through the garbage of a disgraced investigative reporter - is not actually intended to accomplish anything but make him stink, in a literal and metaphoric sense. This being a thriller and not a depressing literary examination of broken lives, however, it goes without saying that the pointless case of shadowing said reporter turns out to be not so pointless after all. And when the teenager Hassan, a British-Pakistani boy, is snatched off the streets and featured in a livestream by the previously-obscure extremist group Sons of Albion, things heat up across the city and especially in Regent's Park. Can River and his fellow "slow horses" sit on the sidelines as they watch the clock tick down to the promised online beheading of an innocent kid? Even the most cynical denizen of Slough House was and still is an MI5 agent, whether they admit it or not, so it goes without saying that they dip their toes into the investigation... and even if they managed to abstain as they're technically supposed to, they find themselves drug in by the schemes of Deputy-Director Diana Taverner, an ambitious woman who wants to make a name for herself and is more than willing to throw a few of her own people - especially ones already tagged as departmental disgraces - to the wolves to do it. Thus begins a complex game of cat and mouse in a story with multiple cats and mice, some characters being both hunter and hunted at once (though they may not always realize which, if either, they are at the time).
For all that things mostly moved well (after a bit of a slow start), there were a few parts that rubbed a bit wrong, such as the way it was presented as inevitable that a woman in power would mess up a major operation, and how another was basically fridged after River found her attractive. Some of the characters of Slough House felt extraneous by the end, and I'm not sure why Herron bothered cluttering the cast with them. A few of the side stories stretched out overlong, becoming padding at more than one point. For all that, it does wrap up reasonably well, though I don't feel invested enough to continue the series (or pony up the cost of yet another streaming service to watch the show).
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Emperor's Edge (Lindsay Buroker) - My Review
The Athena Protocol (Shamim Sarif) - My Review
Phoenix Rising (Cynthia Vespia) - My Review
The Slough House series, Book 1
Mike Herron
Soho Crime
Fiction, Mystery/Thriller
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: The agents of MI5 are among the world's best, protecting England from enemies foreign and domestic... but anyone can stumble, fumble, or run afoul of office politics. The ones who aren't bad enough to fire (or are too politically sensitive to let go) end up at Slough House, home of the department's misfits and screw-ups. It's officially said that Slough House offers a chance at reform, but in practice it's the last stop before resignation - and if they don't quit on their own, the "slow horses" are saddled with openly pointless and tedious assignments until they get the hint and leave. The only ones who hang around more than a few months are the ones too oblivious to realize the snub, or the ones too broken to care about anything anymore, even themselves.
River Cartwright was a bright up-and-comer in the agency until a fouled training exercise resulted in real-world problems. Only the fact that his grandfather was a legend in MI5 saved him from being sacked outright, but being reassigned to Slough House under the doughy, washed-up veteran Jackson Lamb isn't much better than a firing, and he knows it. Surrounded by fellow outcasts, River clings grimly to the thin chance of redemption, not willing to let himself believe that his career is over before it properly began. When a London teenager is abducted by an extremist right-wing group and threatened with an online beheading, he and the other Slough House misfits can only seethe at their ineffectiveness... but a series of managerial missteps instead lands the agents right in the middle of a massive departmental mess centered around the kidnapping - and if they can't unravel the tangled threads and figure out what's really going on, they'll be the ones thrown under the bus by a ruthless and desperate deputy-director.
REVIEW: Not subscribing to Apple+, I have not seen the streaming series inspired by this book, but I was intrigued by the concept. It turns out to be a decent spy thriller, if one that sometimes overplays its tension by drawing out reveals and twists (and has a few elements that subtly set my teeth on edge).
Opening with River and the botched training exercise that derails his career (ironically in the London Underground), it introduces Slough House almost as a character itself, a run-down edifice where the hopelessness and misery are baked into the peeling Formica and yellowed paint, full of agents who seem to be going through the motions of existing more out of habit than out of any remaining aspirations about their lives, let alone their dead-ended careers. River struggles to cling to his sense of purpose, even as some part of him recognizes the truth: he's only still drawing a paycheck because his retired grandfather's reputation still carries some weight at the MI5 headquarters in Regent's Park, and he is expected to be a good little agent and resign so none of the top brass have to ruffle feathers by firing an agent of his pedigree. He perseveres in no small part because he knows in his bones that he didn't mess things up on his own; his partner and best friend (or so he thought) fed him bad intel, seemingly sacrificing River to further his own career. Still, he has no idea how he'll clear his name from Slough House, when the head agent Lamb pretty much tells him point-blank that the gruntwork he's doing - sorting through the garbage of a disgraced investigative reporter - is not actually intended to accomplish anything but make him stink, in a literal and metaphoric sense. This being a thriller and not a depressing literary examination of broken lives, however, it goes without saying that the pointless case of shadowing said reporter turns out to be not so pointless after all. And when the teenager Hassan, a British-Pakistani boy, is snatched off the streets and featured in a livestream by the previously-obscure extremist group Sons of Albion, things heat up across the city and especially in Regent's Park. Can River and his fellow "slow horses" sit on the sidelines as they watch the clock tick down to the promised online beheading of an innocent kid? Even the most cynical denizen of Slough House was and still is an MI5 agent, whether they admit it or not, so it goes without saying that they dip their toes into the investigation... and even if they managed to abstain as they're technically supposed to, they find themselves drug in by the schemes of Deputy-Director Diana Taverner, an ambitious woman who wants to make a name for herself and is more than willing to throw a few of her own people - especially ones already tagged as departmental disgraces - to the wolves to do it. Thus begins a complex game of cat and mouse in a story with multiple cats and mice, some characters being both hunter and hunted at once (though they may not always realize which, if either, they are at the time).
For all that things mostly moved well (after a bit of a slow start), there were a few parts that rubbed a bit wrong, such as the way it was presented as inevitable that a woman in power would mess up a major operation, and how another was basically fridged after River found her attractive. Some of the characters of Slough House felt extraneous by the end, and I'm not sure why Herron bothered cluttering the cast with them. A few of the side stories stretched out overlong, becoming padding at more than one point. For all that, it does wrap up reasonably well, though I don't feel invested enough to continue the series (or pony up the cost of yet another streaming service to watch the show).
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Emperor's Edge (Lindsay Buroker) - My Review
The Athena Protocol (Shamim Sarif) - My Review
Phoenix Rising (Cynthia Vespia) - My Review
Sunday, December 8, 2024
The Age of Wood (Roland Ennos)
The Age of Wood: Our Most Useful Material and the Construction of Civilization
Roland Ennos
Scribner
Nonfiction, Anthropology/History/Nature
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Stone Age, Bronze Age, Iron Age, Computer Age... looking back, one might think that our history began when we started shaping rocks to tame the world, and our future lies in silicon chips and electricity. But long before the first axes and arrowheads, long before Homo sapiens itself came to be, our ancestors were relying on another natural material with amazingly useful properties, one that continues to underpin our modern world, one so ubiquitous it's often overlooked: wood. Author Roland Ennos explores how trees and wood helped transform us from arboreal apes to space-age humans, and how rediscovering the versatility of timber products might help create a sustainable future.
REVIEW: Due to its generally poor preservation compared to stone artifacts, the importance of wood in our own species's prehistory and the development of civilization has often been glossed over. It's only relatively recently that anthropologists have paid more attention to wooden tool making, a process whose roots can be seen in other great apes today (shaping branches to access food sources like insects or honey, even weaving nests for protection from the elements). When one realizes that wood was essential for mastering fire, an immensely pivotal development, it seems a glaring oversight, but Ennos demonstrates how wood has always been such a common part of our world that we almost don't even see it... and, he argues, we haven't paid enough attention as it has disappeared from more and more of our environment, both artificial and natural. Without mastering wood, our species never would've developed pretty much anything we take for granted now. Even the materials many of us think of as replacing wood - iron, concrete, and the like - depended on wood in some form or another, even just as the charcoal and coke to smelt it. Have we outgrown the need for natural materials like wood, in our age of plastics and synthetics? Not at all; there are still many places where wood and wood products are as good as, even potentially superior to, the often-polluting materials we've created to replace it, not to mention the planetary benefits of growing more (and more diverse, not just monoculture plantations) woodlands and the psychological benefits of reconnecting with forests.
For the most part, this book makes for an interesting tour of wood's uses (and limitations) through prehistory and history, generally centered around "Western" cultures but also looking into other places around the world, such as China and the Americas. There are a few parts where I felt Ennos could've dug a bit deeper - his European roots and perspective seem very much evident throughout, and he also waits until near the very end to even mention issues with biodiversity loss that come with overexploitation of woodlands even before modern machinery made logging so much more devastating to the environment - but overall I found it intriguing.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Ancient One (T. A. Barron) - My Review
Unbound (Richard L. Currier) - My Review
The Hidden Life of Trees (Peter Wohlleben) - My Review
Roland Ennos
Scribner
Nonfiction, Anthropology/History/Nature
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Stone Age, Bronze Age, Iron Age, Computer Age... looking back, one might think that our history began when we started shaping rocks to tame the world, and our future lies in silicon chips and electricity. But long before the first axes and arrowheads, long before Homo sapiens itself came to be, our ancestors were relying on another natural material with amazingly useful properties, one that continues to underpin our modern world, one so ubiquitous it's often overlooked: wood. Author Roland Ennos explores how trees and wood helped transform us from arboreal apes to space-age humans, and how rediscovering the versatility of timber products might help create a sustainable future.
REVIEW: Due to its generally poor preservation compared to stone artifacts, the importance of wood in our own species's prehistory and the development of civilization has often been glossed over. It's only relatively recently that anthropologists have paid more attention to wooden tool making, a process whose roots can be seen in other great apes today (shaping branches to access food sources like insects or honey, even weaving nests for protection from the elements). When one realizes that wood was essential for mastering fire, an immensely pivotal development, it seems a glaring oversight, but Ennos demonstrates how wood has always been such a common part of our world that we almost don't even see it... and, he argues, we haven't paid enough attention as it has disappeared from more and more of our environment, both artificial and natural. Without mastering wood, our species never would've developed pretty much anything we take for granted now. Even the materials many of us think of as replacing wood - iron, concrete, and the like - depended on wood in some form or another, even just as the charcoal and coke to smelt it. Have we outgrown the need for natural materials like wood, in our age of plastics and synthetics? Not at all; there are still many places where wood and wood products are as good as, even potentially superior to, the often-polluting materials we've created to replace it, not to mention the planetary benefits of growing more (and more diverse, not just monoculture plantations) woodlands and the psychological benefits of reconnecting with forests.
For the most part, this book makes for an interesting tour of wood's uses (and limitations) through prehistory and history, generally centered around "Western" cultures but also looking into other places around the world, such as China and the Americas. There are a few parts where I felt Ennos could've dug a bit deeper - his European roots and perspective seem very much evident throughout, and he also waits until near the very end to even mention issues with biodiversity loss that come with overexploitation of woodlands even before modern machinery made logging so much more devastating to the environment - but overall I found it intriguing.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Ancient One (T. A. Barron) - My Review
Unbound (Richard L. Currier) - My Review
The Hidden Life of Trees (Peter Wohlleben) - My Review
Friday, December 6, 2024
Pony Confidential (Christina Lynch)
Pony Confidential
Christina Lynch
Berkley
Fiction, Humor/Mystery
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Few things are as magical as the bond between a little girl and her perfect pony. The thrill of learning to ride, the bliss of lazy afternoons on the trail, the pride of a ribbon at the big show... but little girls become bigger girls and grown women, and somewhere along the way the perfect pony gets left behind. But it never forgets that little girl - and some ponies never forgive.
Pony had a girl once, a girl named Penny who read him poetry and fed him carrots and promised they'd be together forever and always. Only she vanished without even saying goodbye, leaving him to a succession of owners, each worse than the last as he crisscrosses the country. It's been over two decades now, and only his determination to find her again and make her pay for her betrayal keeps him going. (Well, that, and the chance to inflict misery on the humans who pass him around like a bad coin.)
Penny, meanwhile, has grown up, married, and raised a child... but her life is anything but happy, with a possible divorce on the horizon and a teen daughter struggling with mental illness. In fact, she hasn't really been happy since she was a child in New York and took riding lessons at a local stable, where she talked her parents into buying a stubborn, cranky, wonderful pony the color of the sun - a pony she had to leave behind suddenly when a tragedy occurred. She thought that was all behind her, until the local sheriff turns up at her door with a warrant for her arrest.
By the time Pony catches up with Penny, the angry little animal may be her only chance at avoiding a lifetime in prison for a murder she did not commit. But what is one old pony supposed to do about it?
REVIEW: Though it was my sister who was the big horse nut in our household, I grew up with the requisite stable of Breyer figures and My Little Pony toys, not to mention innumerable playings of an off-brand audio story "The Little Brown Pony" (which was basically a watered-down knock-off of Black Beauty, but darned if the theme song doesn't still get randomly stuck in my head). So when I saw this title in an article on Best Books of 2024, it seemed like it could be fun. The cover bills Pony Confidential as a hard-boiled pony sleuth saving his grown-up girl by solving a mystery, down to the cover image (a Holmesian deerstalker cap hanging on a horseshoe), but the actual story isn't quite that at all. It's more The Incredible Journey than Sherlock Holmes, crossed with shades of an updated Black Beauty as it explores how humans use and abuse animals in general and horses in particular.
Splitting the narrative between Penny and Pony (weighted toward the latter), the book tells the inadvertently intertwined tales of woman and equine. As Penny, experiencing firsthand the crooked scales of justice, reflects on her unhappy life and the long-ago incident that culminated in her incarceration, Pony sets out on a quest to track down the girl who broke his heart while he still has enough stamina to do it; ponies only live thirty or forty years, and a good two-thirds of that span has already passed by. The journey is not a smooth one, especially when Pony's lingering resentment and tendency to act (usually in anger or sheer pony spite) first and think second trip him up at least as often as his nearly uncontrollable craving for carrots, and along the way he learns some lessons about life, love, and friendship. Some of his various encounters are humorous, while some are sobering, and the book mostly avoids venturing into preachy life lessons. For all the anger he's carried around for so long, an anger that's quite justified given how some of the people he meets treat him and others, deep down he's still nursing a broken heart and is surprised to learn that perhaps he hasn't entirely given up on humans (or at least one or two humans) after all. Penny, too, has to do some re-evaluating of her situation and choices, particularly how she's kept people at arm's length (which doesn't help when it comes time to find character witnesses for her defense), even as she realizes that she can't count on the law to save her and must try, with dim memories and limited resources, to figure out who the real culprit is from her jail cell.
There are some plot-convenient moments (and equally convenient plot delays), and some deliberate muddling of the concurrent timelines struck me as slightly manipulative (particularly how Lynch played coy about some events, stringing out reveals). Also, as implied, there were a few moments that felt a little like Chicken Soup for the Equine Soul sermons, but only a few. For the most part, though, it's the story of the timeless, magical bond between one girl and one very special, if very stubborn and cranky, pony.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Imaginary Corpse (Tyler Hayes) - My Review
Felidae (Akif Pirinçci) - My Review
Remarkably Bright Creatures (Shelby Van Pelt) - My Review
Christina Lynch
Berkley
Fiction, Humor/Mystery
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Few things are as magical as the bond between a little girl and her perfect pony. The thrill of learning to ride, the bliss of lazy afternoons on the trail, the pride of a ribbon at the big show... but little girls become bigger girls and grown women, and somewhere along the way the perfect pony gets left behind. But it never forgets that little girl - and some ponies never forgive.
Pony had a girl once, a girl named Penny who read him poetry and fed him carrots and promised they'd be together forever and always. Only she vanished without even saying goodbye, leaving him to a succession of owners, each worse than the last as he crisscrosses the country. It's been over two decades now, and only his determination to find her again and make her pay for her betrayal keeps him going. (Well, that, and the chance to inflict misery on the humans who pass him around like a bad coin.)
Penny, meanwhile, has grown up, married, and raised a child... but her life is anything but happy, with a possible divorce on the horizon and a teen daughter struggling with mental illness. In fact, she hasn't really been happy since she was a child in New York and took riding lessons at a local stable, where she talked her parents into buying a stubborn, cranky, wonderful pony the color of the sun - a pony she had to leave behind suddenly when a tragedy occurred. She thought that was all behind her, until the local sheriff turns up at her door with a warrant for her arrest.
By the time Pony catches up with Penny, the angry little animal may be her only chance at avoiding a lifetime in prison for a murder she did not commit. But what is one old pony supposed to do about it?
REVIEW: Though it was my sister who was the big horse nut in our household, I grew up with the requisite stable of Breyer figures and My Little Pony toys, not to mention innumerable playings of an off-brand audio story "The Little Brown Pony" (which was basically a watered-down knock-off of Black Beauty, but darned if the theme song doesn't still get randomly stuck in my head). So when I saw this title in an article on Best Books of 2024, it seemed like it could be fun. The cover bills Pony Confidential as a hard-boiled pony sleuth saving his grown-up girl by solving a mystery, down to the cover image (a Holmesian deerstalker cap hanging on a horseshoe), but the actual story isn't quite that at all. It's more The Incredible Journey than Sherlock Holmes, crossed with shades of an updated Black Beauty as it explores how humans use and abuse animals in general and horses in particular.
Splitting the narrative between Penny and Pony (weighted toward the latter), the book tells the inadvertently intertwined tales of woman and equine. As Penny, experiencing firsthand the crooked scales of justice, reflects on her unhappy life and the long-ago incident that culminated in her incarceration, Pony sets out on a quest to track down the girl who broke his heart while he still has enough stamina to do it; ponies only live thirty or forty years, and a good two-thirds of that span has already passed by. The journey is not a smooth one, especially when Pony's lingering resentment and tendency to act (usually in anger or sheer pony spite) first and think second trip him up at least as often as his nearly uncontrollable craving for carrots, and along the way he learns some lessons about life, love, and friendship. Some of his various encounters are humorous, while some are sobering, and the book mostly avoids venturing into preachy life lessons. For all the anger he's carried around for so long, an anger that's quite justified given how some of the people he meets treat him and others, deep down he's still nursing a broken heart and is surprised to learn that perhaps he hasn't entirely given up on humans (or at least one or two humans) after all. Penny, too, has to do some re-evaluating of her situation and choices, particularly how she's kept people at arm's length (which doesn't help when it comes time to find character witnesses for her defense), even as she realizes that she can't count on the law to save her and must try, with dim memories and limited resources, to figure out who the real culprit is from her jail cell.
There are some plot-convenient moments (and equally convenient plot delays), and some deliberate muddling of the concurrent timelines struck me as slightly manipulative (particularly how Lynch played coy about some events, stringing out reveals). Also, as implied, there were a few moments that felt a little like Chicken Soup for the Equine Soul sermons, but only a few. For the most part, though, it's the story of the timeless, magical bond between one girl and one very special, if very stubborn and cranky, pony.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Imaginary Corpse (Tyler Hayes) - My Review
Felidae (Akif Pirinçci) - My Review
Remarkably Bright Creatures (Shelby Van Pelt) - My Review
Wednesday, December 4, 2024
Ravenwood (Nathan Lowell)
Ravenwood: A Tanyth Fairport Adventure
The Tanyth Fairport Adventures series, Book 1
Nathan Lowell
CreateSpace
Fiction, Fantasy
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: Since escaping an abusive marriage, Tanyth has spent twenty years traveling the land, learning the ways of healers, until just one master remains: the elusive hermit of Lammas Wood, on an island across the sea. She hopes to get there before winter sets in, but plans change when the inhabitants of a small, nameless hamlet need her help. Their old healing woman passed away before training an apprentice, and with cold weather coming they could use some assistance. Despite herself, Tanyth finds herself drawn into village life... just when strange changes waken new powers within her, and bandits threaten the settlement.
REVIEW: Rather than a bold, brash epic adventure, Ravenwood presents a smaller, slower story, what might be called "cozy fantasy" now (though I'm not sure the term was much used in 2011, when this was originally published). This turns out to be both an asset and a detriment, leaving me with mixed feelings.
It opens on a decent note, with an aging Tanyth - in her early 50s - feeling the wear and tear of a long life of traveling as she heads toward what she thinks will be a small stop on her way to her greater goal of spending a season with the half-legendary Lammas Wood hermit, possibly the last healer left with secrets for her to learn. The hamlet she finds when she needs a rest along the way is so new it doesn't even have a name, populated with a handful of misfits and young families hoping to forge a new, brighter fortune away from city life, but lacking certain practical, hard-won knowledge of how to live at the edge of wilderness; she is called back to the people after her brief stopover when one of their number falls ill with a fairly common ailment, not even knowing enough basic herb-lore to brew a willow bark tea to ease a fever. After so many years as the pupil and apprentice, Tanyth finds herself seen as an elder and a master, and isn't entirely sure how she feels with this change in status... and that's before she starts having peculiar visions and visitations from an oddly cunning raven, signs of yet another change as (not really a spoiler) she begins manifesting what may be magical powers, which may be linked to early signs of menopause. Here is where I started feeling some odd vibes around the story; it's a man writing about a deeply feminine matter and layering it with mystical meaning, while also ensuring that the lives of all women revolve almost exclusively around males and children. I get that this is a pseudo-medieval world with limited options for women, but something about the way it came across, as though (from the author's male perspective) there was absolutely no question that the only things a woman could possibly ever care about are finding a mate, mothering children, and healing (presented as mothering in another context), struck a sour note. Even in medieval times, there were women who had other goals or ambitions, even if their social status didn't always permit them to pursue such things.
Beyond that, Tanyth's tale unwinds slowly. Very, very slowly, with more than a little repetition. Her age and greater worldly experience make her an important local fixture almost overnight, even as she initially resists settling down and delaying her pilgrimage to the hermit; her almost offhand suggestion that they might build an inn to diversify income sources and create a heart to the budding community is enthusiastically taken up by the town founders, and her promise (only sporadically followed up on) to instruct the local women in herbal medicine brings her a devoted following from the start - not just among the helpless little women but among the children (particularly one precocious boy - whose enthusiasm to become a healer, seen as unusual in a male, is never followed through on, almost like the author forgot about the promise he made in presenting that aspect of his character... by far not the only detail that was set up to be a plot point but turned out to be a red herring, such as the frequent ride-bys of King's Own soldiers, but I digress). Conflict comes not just from Tanyth struggling to come to grips with her newly-emerging abilities (with page-count-padding denials and backslides) but from a troublesome pack of bad guys looking to fleece the little hamlet via a protection racket, and taking the town's rejection of their scheme to almost ridiculous extremes. Much of the book is more about the townsfolk working to turn their little venture into a successful, self-sufficient community, and Tanyth visiting neighbors, drinking tea, and contemplating the potential uses of various local plants without actually using them, as well as having sporadic raven dreams that added nothing at all to the plot as often as not.
There's some interest to be found in all this, and the overall story and characters could be intriguing and even charming at times, but by the end it felt like it took far too long to get where it was going, and lost parts of itself somewhere along the way.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi (Shannon Chakraborty) - My Review
Witches of Lychford (Paul Cornell) - My Review
The Once and Future Witches (Alix E. Harrow) - My Review
The Tanyth Fairport Adventures series, Book 1
Nathan Lowell
CreateSpace
Fiction, Fantasy
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: Since escaping an abusive marriage, Tanyth has spent twenty years traveling the land, learning the ways of healers, until just one master remains: the elusive hermit of Lammas Wood, on an island across the sea. She hopes to get there before winter sets in, but plans change when the inhabitants of a small, nameless hamlet need her help. Their old healing woman passed away before training an apprentice, and with cold weather coming they could use some assistance. Despite herself, Tanyth finds herself drawn into village life... just when strange changes waken new powers within her, and bandits threaten the settlement.
REVIEW: Rather than a bold, brash epic adventure, Ravenwood presents a smaller, slower story, what might be called "cozy fantasy" now (though I'm not sure the term was much used in 2011, when this was originally published). This turns out to be both an asset and a detriment, leaving me with mixed feelings.
It opens on a decent note, with an aging Tanyth - in her early 50s - feeling the wear and tear of a long life of traveling as she heads toward what she thinks will be a small stop on her way to her greater goal of spending a season with the half-legendary Lammas Wood hermit, possibly the last healer left with secrets for her to learn. The hamlet she finds when she needs a rest along the way is so new it doesn't even have a name, populated with a handful of misfits and young families hoping to forge a new, brighter fortune away from city life, but lacking certain practical, hard-won knowledge of how to live at the edge of wilderness; she is called back to the people after her brief stopover when one of their number falls ill with a fairly common ailment, not even knowing enough basic herb-lore to brew a willow bark tea to ease a fever. After so many years as the pupil and apprentice, Tanyth finds herself seen as an elder and a master, and isn't entirely sure how she feels with this change in status... and that's before she starts having peculiar visions and visitations from an oddly cunning raven, signs of yet another change as (not really a spoiler) she begins manifesting what may be magical powers, which may be linked to early signs of menopause. Here is where I started feeling some odd vibes around the story; it's a man writing about a deeply feminine matter and layering it with mystical meaning, while also ensuring that the lives of all women revolve almost exclusively around males and children. I get that this is a pseudo-medieval world with limited options for women, but something about the way it came across, as though (from the author's male perspective) there was absolutely no question that the only things a woman could possibly ever care about are finding a mate, mothering children, and healing (presented as mothering in another context), struck a sour note. Even in medieval times, there were women who had other goals or ambitions, even if their social status didn't always permit them to pursue such things.
Beyond that, Tanyth's tale unwinds slowly. Very, very slowly, with more than a little repetition. Her age and greater worldly experience make her an important local fixture almost overnight, even as she initially resists settling down and delaying her pilgrimage to the hermit; her almost offhand suggestion that they might build an inn to diversify income sources and create a heart to the budding community is enthusiastically taken up by the town founders, and her promise (only sporadically followed up on) to instruct the local women in herbal medicine brings her a devoted following from the start - not just among the helpless little women but among the children (particularly one precocious boy - whose enthusiasm to become a healer, seen as unusual in a male, is never followed through on, almost like the author forgot about the promise he made in presenting that aspect of his character... by far not the only detail that was set up to be a plot point but turned out to be a red herring, such as the frequent ride-bys of King's Own soldiers, but I digress). Conflict comes not just from Tanyth struggling to come to grips with her newly-emerging abilities (with page-count-padding denials and backslides) but from a troublesome pack of bad guys looking to fleece the little hamlet via a protection racket, and taking the town's rejection of their scheme to almost ridiculous extremes. Much of the book is more about the townsfolk working to turn their little venture into a successful, self-sufficient community, and Tanyth visiting neighbors, drinking tea, and contemplating the potential uses of various local plants without actually using them, as well as having sporadic raven dreams that added nothing at all to the plot as often as not.
There's some interest to be found in all this, and the overall story and characters could be intriguing and even charming at times, but by the end it felt like it took far too long to get where it was going, and lost parts of itself somewhere along the way.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi (Shannon Chakraborty) - My Review
Witches of Lychford (Paul Cornell) - My Review
The Once and Future Witches (Alix E. Harrow) - My Review
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