The Spare Man
Mary Robinette Kowal
Tor
Fiction, Mystery/Sci-Fi
** (Bad)
DESCRIPTION: Heiress Tesla Crane had hoped for a nice, relaxing cruise to Mars aboard the luxury liner Lindgren, honeymooning with her new spouse, retired detective Shan. She could use it; a terrible accident with one of her company's prototypes left her half-crippled in pain and scarred by PTSD, something neither the nerve blockers nor her service dog, the terrier Gimlet, can entirely alleviate. But she has a handsome and brilliant and supportive husband, a first-class suite, and some of the best cocktails in the system. It should be a good time.
Then a woman is murdered - and, impossibly, her husband is a prime suspect.
Tesla just wanted to lie low and enjoy some time incognito as a happy newlywed, but when it's clear the shipboard security officer has already made up his mind, she realizes it's up to her (and Gimlet) to clear Shan's name by finding the real killer. But someone who killed once and got away with it isn't the type of person to sit around and wait to be unmasked...
REVIEW: I loved what I've read of Kowal's alternate history Lady Astronaut stories, as well as her standalone Ghost Talkers. The concept of this one, crossing the Nick and Nora Charles banter-based sleuthing story with a futuristic spaceship setting, sounded like it could've been great fun. And it should've been fun. It really should have been fun. I don't know if I was just in the wrong headspace, or if I just don't enjoy this kind of story in print, but for whatever reason almost nothing in this book worked for me, try as I did to make it work.
First off, I knew there would probably be some challenges integrating the inherently different elements here. The Nick and Nora model relies on a certain retro vibe, sipping cocktails and trading glib banter with certain implied social and gender roles. The setting, though, is a spaceship, in a future where, even if class equality is as nonexistent as it is today, gender roles have broadened and changed radically; indeed, the story goes out of its way to point out how the ship security officer is considered practically a relic of the Neolithic for throwing around attitudes about gender and disabilities that should've died in the 1980's. With their old-school banter and gestures and cocktail habits, Tesla and Shan just plain feel out of place, even with the Lindgren inexplicably feeling like a luxury cruise ship from yesteryear, down to the live stage magician doing the same tired tricks that were old hat when the original Nick and Nora Charles were about. This disconnect isn't helped by the utter lack of viable chemistry between Tesla and Shan; their banter often feels forced and ill-timed, their constant newlywed nuzzling and pawing at each other always seeming to happen right when they really should be doing something else (as in one time, when they have a stranger waiting for them in the other room, they darned near strip down and go at it on the bed when they really should be more focused on how this person can help them investigate and, say, clear Shan's name of the murders so they can make out without a third party waiting on them...). Of course, I'm not entirely sure how close the married couple really is; Shan claims to be a retired detective, yet hasn't told his own wife why he retired - and this is a man she keeps claiming can read her feelings and moods like a book, and vice versa. Isn't this the kind of thing husbands and wives should tell each other in a solid relationship - even before vows are exchanged and they're on their honeymoon? Naturally, Shan does a lot of investigating for a "retired" detective, but progress for both him and Tesla is uneven, stumbling over a long list of crewmembers and suspects whose names and connections became a blur (and I'm used to reading epic fantasy doorstoppers, so juggling names shouldn't be an issue, but I was just so distracted by how nothing seemed to click together here that I just could not do it). Gimlet weasels her way into almost every possible scene, in the reader's face almost as much as a real attention-loving little pooch who doesn't always need to be there (her "service dog" services fall by the wayside as she becomes more useful as a distraction). I like dogs, don't get me wrong, but I don't always want one underfoot when I'm trying to keep track of the plot. Things happen, Tesla experiences pain and gets re-traumatized, Shan gets beat up by shipboard security during "interrogation" (did I mention that he has a bad broken rib and black eye and is in serious pain, as is she, when they're nearly tearing each other's clothes off in that earlier "make the stranger wait because hormones" scene? I know newlyweds can be a little eager, but as a reader I could only wince, not finding acute pain particularly arousing.), the official investigator is so clearly biased and incapable of actually looking at evidence that it went beyond funny to tooth-grinding in the space of a couple chapters (is he on the take? Nope, just incompetent, because you can't have a competent investigator around if "amateur" sleuths are going to solve things), subplots complicate things unnecessarily, and yet more cocktails are mixed and banter traded before the final unmasking of the true culprit and the book finally trudges over the finish line.
I wanted to like this book. I wanted to enjoy some light banter with a nice little mystery. I really, really did. And there were moments that almost rose to my expectations. But at every turn I kept running nose-first into parts that didn't fit and moments that didn't work and characters who never came alive beyond the trope/stereotype that inspired them. I pushed myself to the halfway point hoping it would finally click, then pushed myself to the end just to get it out of the way. Any book that I'm making myself read just to get it out of the way suffers a ratings hit, unfortunately.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Tea Master and the Detective (Aliette de Bodard) - My Review
The Echo Wife (Sarah Gailey) - My Review
Ghost Talkers (Mary Robinette Kowal) - My Review
Thursday, June 8, 2023
Nightwings (Robert Silverberg)
Nightwings
Robert Silverberg
Tantor Audio
Fiction, Sci-Fi
*** (Okay)
DESCRIPTION: There was a time when humans walked among the stars, working veritable miracles of science, considered equals among the many sentient races of the galaxy. Now, Earth is in its twilight years, the world a broken and faded memory of itself, the people living in cities riddled with remnants of former days of glory. A series of self-inflicted disasters devastated the climate and civilization, and though we haven't regressed completely to a planetbound existence, we're far from the giants we once were - and, technically, our planet is no longer our own, although the new legal owners have yet to arrive.
For over a thousand years, the Guilds of Earth have kept wary watch upon the skies, preparing as best they can for the impending invasion, but some have started to believe it's never going to happen. An aging Watcher, traveling with a winged Flier and a mutant member of the reviled underclass Guildless, has traveled far across the remnants of the world, and comes at last to the city of Roum, were fragments as old as the First Cycle of civilization itself can still be seen (though that's more the provence of the Rememberer Guild). He is here when at last the ancient threats come true, and the Invaders arrive to find our spirits as broken as our planet. As the Watcher struggles to find a purpose in this new, occupied world where his guild is no longer needed, he starts to wonder if he is seeing the last guttering embers of human civilization - or the first sparks of a new and rising glory.
REVIEW: Though this book feels like it might be in the same far-future milieu as the Majipoor books, it appears to be a standalone title, which is probably just as well. This is mostly a story of thinly-veiled religious concepts about sin, rebirth, and redemption, even if it cloaks it in terms like "the Will". The setting itself has some nice, imaginative (if rather dystopian) ideas, though it's saddled with certain markers of when it was written: old white guys lusting after barely-legal girls, women being either shy, delicate flowers of purity or selfish, vain, power-hungry vessels of pure lust and irredeemable sin, and a casual assumption that of course humans are divinely blessed above all else, that there is an aware Will guiding all, and the promises of primarily Abrahamic religions will eventually come to fruition even if the religions themselves have been lost to history. For all that, the story does at least acknowledge the deep and lasting damage done by cultures who consider themselves superior treating others as animals (or worse), plus warnings about attempts to control or alter global climates that have eerie resonance as we barrel headlong toward catastrophe in the here-and-now, and how the bill for both sins may be delayed but eventually comes due with interest. The Watcher is not always the most sympathetic of characters, though he does have to come to terms with his own faults, as well as those of his world. Around him are characters who are more archetype or symbol or metaphor to convey the Message than rounded individuals. I suspect that, if I were more literate in religion, I would see even more messages and symbolism pretty much everywhere and in every event, as that angle grows exceptionally heavy-handed the further into the tale one wanders. The ending... no spoilers, but I almost groaned out loud, as Silverberg dispenses of the sledgehammer and resorts to a metaphoric pile driver to pound the Lesson and Message home.
As I mentioned, there are some decent ideas and images, and there's something vaguely compelling about the fantastic vision of the future it presents. I just have a very limited tolerance for Message stories, particularly ones that seem primarily designed to gently soothe readers of a particular (assumed) cultural and religious persuasion that, yes, they really are the best and their Truth is the only Truth.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Between Two Fires (Christopher Buehlman) - My Review
The Fifth Season (N. K. Jemisin) - My Review
Lord Valentine's Castle (Robert Silverberg) - My Review
Robert Silverberg
Tantor Audio
Fiction, Sci-Fi
*** (Okay)
DESCRIPTION: There was a time when humans walked among the stars, working veritable miracles of science, considered equals among the many sentient races of the galaxy. Now, Earth is in its twilight years, the world a broken and faded memory of itself, the people living in cities riddled with remnants of former days of glory. A series of self-inflicted disasters devastated the climate and civilization, and though we haven't regressed completely to a planetbound existence, we're far from the giants we once were - and, technically, our planet is no longer our own, although the new legal owners have yet to arrive.
For over a thousand years, the Guilds of Earth have kept wary watch upon the skies, preparing as best they can for the impending invasion, but some have started to believe it's never going to happen. An aging Watcher, traveling with a winged Flier and a mutant member of the reviled underclass Guildless, has traveled far across the remnants of the world, and comes at last to the city of Roum, were fragments as old as the First Cycle of civilization itself can still be seen (though that's more the provence of the Rememberer Guild). He is here when at last the ancient threats come true, and the Invaders arrive to find our spirits as broken as our planet. As the Watcher struggles to find a purpose in this new, occupied world where his guild is no longer needed, he starts to wonder if he is seeing the last guttering embers of human civilization - or the first sparks of a new and rising glory.
REVIEW: Though this book feels like it might be in the same far-future milieu as the Majipoor books, it appears to be a standalone title, which is probably just as well. This is mostly a story of thinly-veiled religious concepts about sin, rebirth, and redemption, even if it cloaks it in terms like "the Will". The setting itself has some nice, imaginative (if rather dystopian) ideas, though it's saddled with certain markers of when it was written: old white guys lusting after barely-legal girls, women being either shy, delicate flowers of purity or selfish, vain, power-hungry vessels of pure lust and irredeemable sin, and a casual assumption that of course humans are divinely blessed above all else, that there is an aware Will guiding all, and the promises of primarily Abrahamic religions will eventually come to fruition even if the religions themselves have been lost to history. For all that, the story does at least acknowledge the deep and lasting damage done by cultures who consider themselves superior treating others as animals (or worse), plus warnings about attempts to control or alter global climates that have eerie resonance as we barrel headlong toward catastrophe in the here-and-now, and how the bill for both sins may be delayed but eventually comes due with interest. The Watcher is not always the most sympathetic of characters, though he does have to come to terms with his own faults, as well as those of his world. Around him are characters who are more archetype or symbol or metaphor to convey the Message than rounded individuals. I suspect that, if I were more literate in religion, I would see even more messages and symbolism pretty much everywhere and in every event, as that angle grows exceptionally heavy-handed the further into the tale one wanders. The ending... no spoilers, but I almost groaned out loud, as Silverberg dispenses of the sledgehammer and resorts to a metaphoric pile driver to pound the Lesson and Message home.
As I mentioned, there are some decent ideas and images, and there's something vaguely compelling about the fantastic vision of the future it presents. I just have a very limited tolerance for Message stories, particularly ones that seem primarily designed to gently soothe readers of a particular (assumed) cultural and religious persuasion that, yes, they really are the best and their Truth is the only Truth.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Between Two Fires (Christopher Buehlman) - My Review
The Fifth Season (N. K. Jemisin) - My Review
Lord Valentine's Castle (Robert Silverberg) - My Review
Wednesday, June 7, 2023
Flying Snakes and Griffin Claws (Adrienne Mayor)
Flying Snakes and Griffin Claws: And Other Classical Myths, Historical Oddities, and Scientific Curiosities
Adrienne Mayor
Princeton University Press
Nonfiction, Folklore/History
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: For all the copious amount of studies dedicated to history, there are still plenty of things that have fallen through the cracks, things that are either dismissed as falsehoods or misinterpretations or simply lack sufficient interest to tempt researchers. Author Adrienne Mayor shines a light into some of these overlooked nooks and crannies, unearthing a treasure trove of oddities and wonders and peculiar moments and factoids, from the often-forgotten roles of Native Americans and enslaved Africans in early American fossil hunting to possible explanations for persistent reports of "flying snakes" in Middle Eastern deserts, from tales of ancient poisons to "mad honey", even to the long histories of such peculiar human recreations as tourism, mountain climbing, and faking fossils.
REVIEW: There's a tendency to dismiss previous generations and cultures as lessers: less sophisticated, less able to discern truth from fiction or reality from illusion, less intelligent or worthy. Previous generations may not have been splitting atoms or launching interplanetary probes or live-streaming their pet cats being spooked by cucumbers, but they had the same basic brain structure as modern humans, and were at least as capable of understanding the world around them, as well as wondering how it worked and where they fit into it. Yet for too long, the idea that Ancient Greeks may have recovered fossils and attempted to reconstruct extinct animals, for instance, was dismissed out of hand. Other references fell by the wayside as being too inconsequential or vague to be worth pursuing, such as the possible identity of those "flying snakes" in places where true gliding snakes couldn't live, or the truth hidden in traveler's tales of tiny orange "birds" highly prized for their toxicity. Author Mayor digs into these little factoid nuggets with varying degrees of depth and success, from the ancient world to more recent times, touching on topics such as the domestication of ferrets (the chosen pet for rodent control before cats spread from Ancient Egypt), the classical personalities of the winds, tales of ancient "giants", the mysterious origin of the mammoth foot examined by famed naturalist Cuvier, early anti-vaxxers, and more. There are some odd omissions and numerous places where I wish there were more information presented, and some of the essays just seem of drift or end without seeming to make much of a point or reaching a conclusion. And there were places where it felt like she'd lost track of the main theme of the book, which was supposed to be classical and historical oddities and not waxing nostalgic about pets. Also - and this is not the fault of the author - the audiobook was supposed to have a PDF file I could download with images from the printed edition, but searching Libby has yielded no such addendum (I've seen them on other audiobooks, so I don't know what's going on with this one; I even checked with my tablet and my PC).
If someone is looking for in-depth explorations of the subjects mentioned here, then this book is only going to serve as a starting point; an extensive bibliography cites Mayor's sources for further investigation. If someone is just looking for a quick glimpse of unusual, often overlooked or forgotten or dismissed bits of history and folklore, then this is just what they're after. I wavered a bit, but wound up landing on the side of the full fourth star for the breadth of unusual topics covered, even if the depth could be lacking (sometimes frustratingly so).
You Might Also Enjoy:
Mythic Creatures (Richard Ellis, Laurel Kendall, and Mark A. Norell) - My Review
The United States of Cryptids (J. W. Ocker) - My Review
The Evolution of the Dragon (G. Elliot Smith) - My Review
Adrienne Mayor
Princeton University Press
Nonfiction, Folklore/History
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: For all the copious amount of studies dedicated to history, there are still plenty of things that have fallen through the cracks, things that are either dismissed as falsehoods or misinterpretations or simply lack sufficient interest to tempt researchers. Author Adrienne Mayor shines a light into some of these overlooked nooks and crannies, unearthing a treasure trove of oddities and wonders and peculiar moments and factoids, from the often-forgotten roles of Native Americans and enslaved Africans in early American fossil hunting to possible explanations for persistent reports of "flying snakes" in Middle Eastern deserts, from tales of ancient poisons to "mad honey", even to the long histories of such peculiar human recreations as tourism, mountain climbing, and faking fossils.
REVIEW: There's a tendency to dismiss previous generations and cultures as lessers: less sophisticated, less able to discern truth from fiction or reality from illusion, less intelligent or worthy. Previous generations may not have been splitting atoms or launching interplanetary probes or live-streaming their pet cats being spooked by cucumbers, but they had the same basic brain structure as modern humans, and were at least as capable of understanding the world around them, as well as wondering how it worked and where they fit into it. Yet for too long, the idea that Ancient Greeks may have recovered fossils and attempted to reconstruct extinct animals, for instance, was dismissed out of hand. Other references fell by the wayside as being too inconsequential or vague to be worth pursuing, such as the possible identity of those "flying snakes" in places where true gliding snakes couldn't live, or the truth hidden in traveler's tales of tiny orange "birds" highly prized for their toxicity. Author Mayor digs into these little factoid nuggets with varying degrees of depth and success, from the ancient world to more recent times, touching on topics such as the domestication of ferrets (the chosen pet for rodent control before cats spread from Ancient Egypt), the classical personalities of the winds, tales of ancient "giants", the mysterious origin of the mammoth foot examined by famed naturalist Cuvier, early anti-vaxxers, and more. There are some odd omissions and numerous places where I wish there were more information presented, and some of the essays just seem of drift or end without seeming to make much of a point or reaching a conclusion. And there were places where it felt like she'd lost track of the main theme of the book, which was supposed to be classical and historical oddities and not waxing nostalgic about pets. Also - and this is not the fault of the author - the audiobook was supposed to have a PDF file I could download with images from the printed edition, but searching Libby has yielded no such addendum (I've seen them on other audiobooks, so I don't know what's going on with this one; I even checked with my tablet and my PC).
If someone is looking for in-depth explorations of the subjects mentioned here, then this book is only going to serve as a starting point; an extensive bibliography cites Mayor's sources for further investigation. If someone is just looking for a quick glimpse of unusual, often overlooked or forgotten or dismissed bits of history and folklore, then this is just what they're after. I wavered a bit, but wound up landing on the side of the full fourth star for the breadth of unusual topics covered, even if the depth could be lacking (sometimes frustratingly so).
You Might Also Enjoy:
Mythic Creatures (Richard Ellis, Laurel Kendall, and Mark A. Norell) - My Review
The United States of Cryptids (J. W. Ocker) - My Review
The Evolution of the Dragon (G. Elliot Smith) - My Review
Friday, June 2, 2023
The Athena Protocol (Shamim Sarif)
The Athena Protocol
The Athena Protocol series, Book 1
Shamim Sarif
HarperTeen
Fiction,YA Action/Thriller
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: With a pop star mother and an unknown father, Jessie Archer was never going to have a normal life... but she never could've predicted just how unusual it would turn out to be. After an early graduation from traditional schooling, she was first recruited by a program training operatives for covert agencies, until she was invited to join a special project her now-retired mother helped found. The Athena Protocol is an off-the-books, technically extralegal organization dedicated to exacting justice for those that the world governments seem unwilling or unable to help, most notably women and girls left to the mercy of traffickers and terrorists. Jessie's prodigal tech skills make her a top agent of the small team - until one mission pushes her too far, and she finds herself breaking the Protocol's strict "no kill" rule. The bullet that ended a monstrous man's life also effectively ends her days as an Athena Protocol agent, just before they're due to take down a major international trafficker operating out of Belgrade.
Jessie fumes. She knows it was wrong (at least on some level) to have pulled the trigger, but the team needs her help if they're to have any hope of taking down their latest target. Using some back door code she left behind in the Protocol servers, she starts doing some independent research... and stumbles onto a much bigger, much darker plot. Worse, these new revelations mean the team may be in more danger than they realize. She may no longer be an Athena agent, but Jessie's not about to see friends and family walk into a trap, nor is she about to let another monster get away with destroying untold lives. She hops a plane to Belgrade, intent on conducting her own mission... but, while worrying about the danger to her ex-teammates, she forgot to worry enough about the danger to herself...
REVIEW: The Athena Protocol is exactly what it promises to be: a girl-oriented action tale of spies and secret missions and taking down bad guys with deception, stealth, and cool James Bondian gadgetry. Like the rest of the Protocol, adults and fellow teen/young adult agents alike, Jessie came to the agency with both talent and baggage, and work in the field tends to magnify both... especially when so much of their work starts to feel like slapping duct tape over cracks in a vast dam, the growing weight and pressure of the monstrosities committed against women and girls growing ever larger daily and the effects of their efforts seeming to grow less and less significant in a world that just plain does not seem to care - a world that too often rewards the monsters with yet more power and chances to abuse and kill. Jessie reaches this breaking point on the opening mission, but its only after she gets booted from the Protocol - by her own mother, even, one of the triad of founders - that she understands just how much her work does indeed matter, and how much it meant to her in particular. She does not, to her credit, immediately go full-on rogue; she keeps trying to work with the system that no longer wants to work with her, and only ends up going solo when she has no other alternative. Even through her investigation in Belgrade, she crosses paths with her former coworkers and can't help inserting herself to help. Along the way, she works through some personal issues about her job and her complicated history with her mother, even as she finds herself confronting some significant complications in the form of the attractive daughter of her mark, who may or may not be an innocent bystander in the man's myriad crimes. Things twist and turn through the streets of Belgrade, the digital footprints of money laundering across national borders, even through conflicted encounters with the Protocol's members, with plenty of action and a heroine who isn't beyond some missteps and mistakes but who never comes across as gullible or bumbling to further the plot. Actually, refreshingly, nobody is reduced to that level; they're all competent, strong people doing the best with the information they have. Even when the leadership ejects Jessie from the Protocol, it's an entirely understandable decision from their point of view, as even Jessie admits to herself once she calms down... and the leadership, to their credit, does actually listen to her when she brings them sufficient evidence for what she uncovers in her independent investigations. It wraps up with some nice twists and a decently satisfactory resolution that isn't without some tears and guilt and heartbreak, setting up the next book in the series. I enjoyed it. It's the kind of story that would make a solid TV or film adaptation, actually.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Six of Crows (Leigh Bardugo) - My Review
The Emperor's Edge (Lindsay Buroker) - My Review
The Falconer (Elizabeth May) - My Review
The Athena Protocol series, Book 1
Shamim Sarif
HarperTeen
Fiction,YA Action/Thriller
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: With a pop star mother and an unknown father, Jessie Archer was never going to have a normal life... but she never could've predicted just how unusual it would turn out to be. After an early graduation from traditional schooling, she was first recruited by a program training operatives for covert agencies, until she was invited to join a special project her now-retired mother helped found. The Athena Protocol is an off-the-books, technically extralegal organization dedicated to exacting justice for those that the world governments seem unwilling or unable to help, most notably women and girls left to the mercy of traffickers and terrorists. Jessie's prodigal tech skills make her a top agent of the small team - until one mission pushes her too far, and she finds herself breaking the Protocol's strict "no kill" rule. The bullet that ended a monstrous man's life also effectively ends her days as an Athena Protocol agent, just before they're due to take down a major international trafficker operating out of Belgrade.
Jessie fumes. She knows it was wrong (at least on some level) to have pulled the trigger, but the team needs her help if they're to have any hope of taking down their latest target. Using some back door code she left behind in the Protocol servers, she starts doing some independent research... and stumbles onto a much bigger, much darker plot. Worse, these new revelations mean the team may be in more danger than they realize. She may no longer be an Athena agent, but Jessie's not about to see friends and family walk into a trap, nor is she about to let another monster get away with destroying untold lives. She hops a plane to Belgrade, intent on conducting her own mission... but, while worrying about the danger to her ex-teammates, she forgot to worry enough about the danger to herself...
REVIEW: The Athena Protocol is exactly what it promises to be: a girl-oriented action tale of spies and secret missions and taking down bad guys with deception, stealth, and cool James Bondian gadgetry. Like the rest of the Protocol, adults and fellow teen/young adult agents alike, Jessie came to the agency with both talent and baggage, and work in the field tends to magnify both... especially when so much of their work starts to feel like slapping duct tape over cracks in a vast dam, the growing weight and pressure of the monstrosities committed against women and girls growing ever larger daily and the effects of their efforts seeming to grow less and less significant in a world that just plain does not seem to care - a world that too often rewards the monsters with yet more power and chances to abuse and kill. Jessie reaches this breaking point on the opening mission, but its only after she gets booted from the Protocol - by her own mother, even, one of the triad of founders - that she understands just how much her work does indeed matter, and how much it meant to her in particular. She does not, to her credit, immediately go full-on rogue; she keeps trying to work with the system that no longer wants to work with her, and only ends up going solo when she has no other alternative. Even through her investigation in Belgrade, she crosses paths with her former coworkers and can't help inserting herself to help. Along the way, she works through some personal issues about her job and her complicated history with her mother, even as she finds herself confronting some significant complications in the form of the attractive daughter of her mark, who may or may not be an innocent bystander in the man's myriad crimes. Things twist and turn through the streets of Belgrade, the digital footprints of money laundering across national borders, even through conflicted encounters with the Protocol's members, with plenty of action and a heroine who isn't beyond some missteps and mistakes but who never comes across as gullible or bumbling to further the plot. Actually, refreshingly, nobody is reduced to that level; they're all competent, strong people doing the best with the information they have. Even when the leadership ejects Jessie from the Protocol, it's an entirely understandable decision from their point of view, as even Jessie admits to herself once she calms down... and the leadership, to their credit, does actually listen to her when she brings them sufficient evidence for what she uncovers in her independent investigations. It wraps up with some nice twists and a decently satisfactory resolution that isn't without some tears and guilt and heartbreak, setting up the next book in the series. I enjoyed it. It's the kind of story that would make a solid TV or film adaptation, actually.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Six of Crows (Leigh Bardugo) - My Review
The Emperor's Edge (Lindsay Buroker) - My Review
The Falconer (Elizabeth May) - My Review
Thursday, June 1, 2023
The Magicians (Lev Grossman)
The Magicians
The Magicians series, Book 1
Lev Grossman
Viking
Fiction, Fantasy
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: Teenaged Quentin Coldwater may be a certified genius, already interviewing for a top college when he's still just a junior in high school, but he couldn't be more miserable. His parents barely bother noting his existence, his longtime crush Julia is now dating their mutual friend James, and his future, like the world, looks like a story he'd rather not keep reading. Even though he's technically too old for such things, he still rereads the popular Fillory series obsessively, tales of English children who find their way to a magical land time and again to play heroes and be kings and queens before coming back to Earth... and even though he knows better, he can't help believing (wishing? hoping?) that Brooklyn is just the starting point, that there's really magic and other worlds out there, a quest just waiting to be stumbled upon, and that an insecure lonely sad sack like himself can actually find a purpose and a place to belong. But he's only a hop, skip, and jump away from being a legal grown-up. High time he grew up.
Until he finds a passage to an invisible magical school, and is offered a chance at his wildest dream: to become a real magician.
Brakebills Preparatory College of Magic is nothing like the storybooks have prepared him for. Real magic isn't just waving a wand and shouting nonsensical words. It stretches mind and body and spirit to the breaking point and beyond, loaded with tedious studies and practice, with countless ways to go wrong. There are sacrifices, naturally, and nothing comes without cost. And rather than being the smartest kid in the room as he's used to, he's just one unremarkable student among dozens. But Quentin Coldwater isn't about to turn down this chance. After all, if secret schools and hidden societies of magicians walking among us are real, who knows what else is? Maybe even magical lands from storybooks... magical lands where he can still find that purpose and place to belong that all the magic in the world can't seem to find for him...
REVIEW: One of the most popular fantasy trilogies of recent years (popular enough to spawn a reasonably successful TV show, which I confess I haven't gotten around to), The Magicians is part homage to, part subversion of, and part dig at other popular fantasy franchises, particularly Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter. Unlike either of them, for most of the book there really isn't a quest or a villain or big mystery to drive the story: it's mostly just Quentin, struggling to learn the wonders and dangers of magic and navigate the eternally perplexing, pain- and disappointment-riddled labyrinth of growing up. In some ways, that's a strength, and a deliberate poke at franchises that rely on external factors to shove their young protagonists into maturity. In other ways, it turns the tale into an interminable slog as the reader must follow a not-always-likeable (or -interesting) Quentin as he self-sabotages and fumbles and flails (and drinks and sleeps and whines) his way through adolescence.
Things start reasonably fast, after establishing Quentin's pathetic, dissatisfied existence as third wheel in a former three-way friendship that's become a romance-plus-one. For all his brains and scholastic accolades, he's an abject failure at life itself; part of why he clings so hard to the Fillory books is because some part of him has never given up hope that the reason he can't seem to get the hang of life or growing up is because he's still got a date with a coming-of-age quest via portal fantasy, and the validation that comes with saving a fantasy world. Shortly thereafter, he does indeed find his portal (of a sort), discovering that he is in fact as special as he hoped he was: he has the latent talents that will allow him to learn magic. At first, it's everything he wanted and more, for all that it's not nearly as whimsical or bubble-wrapped as fantasy stories often portray a magical education, plus every single person in the school is who he was: the "smartest kid", academic overachievers used to standing out, now among equals for possibly the first time.
Here, the story enters something of a holding pattern or glide. As mentioned, there are only vague hints of anything like a greater arc or plot driver, as it focuses on Quentin awkwardly figuring out Brakebills, his classes, and a social scene that's all too familiar from home. The starry-eyed sense of wonder mostly fades as the drudgery sets in, but he still clings to a hope that magic will answer the deep, nameless, restless need that's always kept him from being happy... and when that doesn't happen, he turns to drinking with friends (and ill-advised hookups that lead to a fumbling form of romance; if nothing else, this book makes a serious argument for magical schools having compulsory neutralization of sexual urges during matriculation, as people thinking with organs other than their brains leads to innumerable problems). If it hadn't been an audiobook, I might have set it aside for a while, but I was at work without much else to keep my brain busy, so I kept pushing ahead. And I will admit there was something compelling about Quentin's growth (or lack thereof; neither he nor many of the other characters mature in a meaningful way, stuck in a state of listless, dissatisfied, frankly selfish mental adolescence) and the way magic was depicted, not as a grand adventure or automatic ticket to happiness or fulfillment but as just another tool, one that can no more conjure a fulfilled life from nothing than a hammer can build a dream house just by existing. In many ways, magic is an empty promise that complicates more than it solves, in Quentin's life and the lives of other magicians. The greater mage world is implied, but it's nowhere near the robust, independent "world within a world" of Rowling's wizards or other "wainscot" fantasies; it's more of a fringe community, people who have studied and partially mastered something so strange that they struggle to know quite know what to do with it.
It's as Quentin is facing this bleak truth that the final phase of the book kicks in, the one that ties it all back to the Fillory series that kicked off his obsession with magic to begin with... only he's not some young, naive schoolboy summoned to save a vaguely whimsical other world (and learn about himself in the process), but a somewhat misanthropic student of actual magic who has messed up his life so thoroughly he's basically grasping at straws, hoping against hope that, in another world, miracles are still possible that the rigors of Brakebills magic couldn't accomplish - the miracle to make him into someone he actually likes, with a future worth looking forward to. It's not exactly a spoiler to say things don't go as planned, even as he and his acquaintances (I hesitate to call anyone in this book "friends", as they're generally too self-absorbed and -destructive for that term) get to live out their childhood dreams. Even in the middle of wonders, they still bicker and stew and hurt each other, as Quentin proves himself singularly worthless for far too long. I get that part of this was deliberate, another rebuttal of the portal fantasy tropes it was consciously deconstructing, but at some point it also got annoying. There's more moping and emotional immaturity, as Quentin processes (or rather, at least partially fails to process) everything, and then the ending... just sort of happens out of the blue, setting up the next installment and leaving me on the fence as to whether I want to bother continuing the journey.
There are parts I found intriguing about this book, and I can see why it struck such a chord, a somewhat cynical retort to portal fantasies and magical schools. It had just enough of that intrigue and interest that I was able to justify that extra half-star. At times, though, The Magicians felt more like it was missing the point of those fantasies and schools, like the guy who can't help shouting that Santa doesn't exist just to watch kids cry as the iron boot of reality stomps a little more wonder and hope out of their worlds. The wonder and hope are kinda half the point, and smugly demonstrating that they may not be plausible in grown-up reality doesn't necessarily make you the clever one. Sometimes it just makes you the jerk with the boot who can't stand seeing other people enjoy things you either have outgrown or were never capable of liking to begin with.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Everworld 1: The Search for Senna (K. A. Applegate) - My Review
Every Heart a Doorway (Seanan McGuire) - My Review
Carry On (Rainbow Rowell) - My Review
The Magicians series, Book 1
Lev Grossman
Viking
Fiction, Fantasy
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: Teenaged Quentin Coldwater may be a certified genius, already interviewing for a top college when he's still just a junior in high school, but he couldn't be more miserable. His parents barely bother noting his existence, his longtime crush Julia is now dating their mutual friend James, and his future, like the world, looks like a story he'd rather not keep reading. Even though he's technically too old for such things, he still rereads the popular Fillory series obsessively, tales of English children who find their way to a magical land time and again to play heroes and be kings and queens before coming back to Earth... and even though he knows better, he can't help believing (wishing? hoping?) that Brooklyn is just the starting point, that there's really magic and other worlds out there, a quest just waiting to be stumbled upon, and that an insecure lonely sad sack like himself can actually find a purpose and a place to belong. But he's only a hop, skip, and jump away from being a legal grown-up. High time he grew up.
Until he finds a passage to an invisible magical school, and is offered a chance at his wildest dream: to become a real magician.
Brakebills Preparatory College of Magic is nothing like the storybooks have prepared him for. Real magic isn't just waving a wand and shouting nonsensical words. It stretches mind and body and spirit to the breaking point and beyond, loaded with tedious studies and practice, with countless ways to go wrong. There are sacrifices, naturally, and nothing comes without cost. And rather than being the smartest kid in the room as he's used to, he's just one unremarkable student among dozens. But Quentin Coldwater isn't about to turn down this chance. After all, if secret schools and hidden societies of magicians walking among us are real, who knows what else is? Maybe even magical lands from storybooks... magical lands where he can still find that purpose and place to belong that all the magic in the world can't seem to find for him...
REVIEW: One of the most popular fantasy trilogies of recent years (popular enough to spawn a reasonably successful TV show, which I confess I haven't gotten around to), The Magicians is part homage to, part subversion of, and part dig at other popular fantasy franchises, particularly Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter. Unlike either of them, for most of the book there really isn't a quest or a villain or big mystery to drive the story: it's mostly just Quentin, struggling to learn the wonders and dangers of magic and navigate the eternally perplexing, pain- and disappointment-riddled labyrinth of growing up. In some ways, that's a strength, and a deliberate poke at franchises that rely on external factors to shove their young protagonists into maturity. In other ways, it turns the tale into an interminable slog as the reader must follow a not-always-likeable (or -interesting) Quentin as he self-sabotages and fumbles and flails (and drinks and sleeps and whines) his way through adolescence.
Things start reasonably fast, after establishing Quentin's pathetic, dissatisfied existence as third wheel in a former three-way friendship that's become a romance-plus-one. For all his brains and scholastic accolades, he's an abject failure at life itself; part of why he clings so hard to the Fillory books is because some part of him has never given up hope that the reason he can't seem to get the hang of life or growing up is because he's still got a date with a coming-of-age quest via portal fantasy, and the validation that comes with saving a fantasy world. Shortly thereafter, he does indeed find his portal (of a sort), discovering that he is in fact as special as he hoped he was: he has the latent talents that will allow him to learn magic. At first, it's everything he wanted and more, for all that it's not nearly as whimsical or bubble-wrapped as fantasy stories often portray a magical education, plus every single person in the school is who he was: the "smartest kid", academic overachievers used to standing out, now among equals for possibly the first time.
Here, the story enters something of a holding pattern or glide. As mentioned, there are only vague hints of anything like a greater arc or plot driver, as it focuses on Quentin awkwardly figuring out Brakebills, his classes, and a social scene that's all too familiar from home. The starry-eyed sense of wonder mostly fades as the drudgery sets in, but he still clings to a hope that magic will answer the deep, nameless, restless need that's always kept him from being happy... and when that doesn't happen, he turns to drinking with friends (and ill-advised hookups that lead to a fumbling form of romance; if nothing else, this book makes a serious argument for magical schools having compulsory neutralization of sexual urges during matriculation, as people thinking with organs other than their brains leads to innumerable problems). If it hadn't been an audiobook, I might have set it aside for a while, but I was at work without much else to keep my brain busy, so I kept pushing ahead. And I will admit there was something compelling about Quentin's growth (or lack thereof; neither he nor many of the other characters mature in a meaningful way, stuck in a state of listless, dissatisfied, frankly selfish mental adolescence) and the way magic was depicted, not as a grand adventure or automatic ticket to happiness or fulfillment but as just another tool, one that can no more conjure a fulfilled life from nothing than a hammer can build a dream house just by existing. In many ways, magic is an empty promise that complicates more than it solves, in Quentin's life and the lives of other magicians. The greater mage world is implied, but it's nowhere near the robust, independent "world within a world" of Rowling's wizards or other "wainscot" fantasies; it's more of a fringe community, people who have studied and partially mastered something so strange that they struggle to know quite know what to do with it.
It's as Quentin is facing this bleak truth that the final phase of the book kicks in, the one that ties it all back to the Fillory series that kicked off his obsession with magic to begin with... only he's not some young, naive schoolboy summoned to save a vaguely whimsical other world (and learn about himself in the process), but a somewhat misanthropic student of actual magic who has messed up his life so thoroughly he's basically grasping at straws, hoping against hope that, in another world, miracles are still possible that the rigors of Brakebills magic couldn't accomplish - the miracle to make him into someone he actually likes, with a future worth looking forward to. It's not exactly a spoiler to say things don't go as planned, even as he and his acquaintances (I hesitate to call anyone in this book "friends", as they're generally too self-absorbed and -destructive for that term) get to live out their childhood dreams. Even in the middle of wonders, they still bicker and stew and hurt each other, as Quentin proves himself singularly worthless for far too long. I get that part of this was deliberate, another rebuttal of the portal fantasy tropes it was consciously deconstructing, but at some point it also got annoying. There's more moping and emotional immaturity, as Quentin processes (or rather, at least partially fails to process) everything, and then the ending... just sort of happens out of the blue, setting up the next installment and leaving me on the fence as to whether I want to bother continuing the journey.
There are parts I found intriguing about this book, and I can see why it struck such a chord, a somewhat cynical retort to portal fantasies and magical schools. It had just enough of that intrigue and interest that I was able to justify that extra half-star. At times, though, The Magicians felt more like it was missing the point of those fantasies and schools, like the guy who can't help shouting that Santa doesn't exist just to watch kids cry as the iron boot of reality stomps a little more wonder and hope out of their worlds. The wonder and hope are kinda half the point, and smugly demonstrating that they may not be plausible in grown-up reality doesn't necessarily make you the clever one. Sometimes it just makes you the jerk with the boot who can't stand seeing other people enjoy things you either have outgrown or were never capable of liking to begin with.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Everworld 1: The Search for Senna (K. A. Applegate) - My Review
Every Heart a Doorway (Seanan McGuire) - My Review
Carry On (Rainbow Rowell) - My Review
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)