December's reviews have been archived and cross-linked at the main Brightdreamer Books site.
And, once again, another year ends, which means it's once again time for a Reading Year in Review post.
January started on a decent note, as I wrapped up reading Seanan McGuire's excellent Ghost Roads trilogy with Angel of the Overpass. Other highlights of the month were Nicole Glover's postbellum historical fiction/fantasy/murder mystery The Conductors, John David Anderson's imaginative take on wishes and the fairies who grant them in Granted, and Joe Hill's short story collection Full Throttle. The top book of the month turned out to be Leigh Bardugo's dark fantasy heist novel Six of Crows, a marked improvement over her Shadow and Bone (and incentive to some day go back and finish off the first Grishaverse trilogy; to be honest, I mostly gave Crows a try because Kaz's crew was retconned into the Netflix show and they were my favorite parts). It was also a month with some disappointments; Penric's Demon is the second swing-and-miss for the much-vaunted author Lois McMaster Bujold, enough for me to decide I just plain do not get her appeal and never will (though I've read worse), and Matt Wallace's Envy of Angels, a culinary romp through forbidden foods at a catering company with decidedly unusual clientele, left me with no appetite for further courses.
I kicked off February with Terry Pratchett's standalone tale Nation, a solid enough start in a month that would include several highlights: Christopher Buehlman's darkly humorous fantasy The Blacktongue Thief,
Nghi Vo's The Empress of Salt and Fortune in the Singing Hills Cycle, and the conclusion to Leigh Bardugo's excellent Six of Crows duology, Crooked Kingdom. Seanan McGuire continued her impressive
Wayward Children series with Where the Drowned Girls Go, and Catherynne M. Valente presented a dystopian nightmare twist on a familiar creation tale in Comfort Me With Apples. Another surprise delight was the audiobook presentation of Brent "Lt. Commander Data" Spiner's Fan Fiction: A Mem-Noir ("inspired by true events"), a tale elevated by his narration and cameos from fellow Star Trek: The Next Generation cast members. I also greatly enjoyed Gary Paulsen's autobiographical Gone to the Woods, read after the iconic author's passing. There were a few lowlights, of course, but more in the "meh" category than actively aggravating.
March brought some memorable titles, including Brian McClellan's French Revolution-inspired flintlock fantasy Promise of Blood, the Expanse novella collection (and final print entry in the franchise)
Memory's Legion by James S. A. Corey, and the surprisingly enjoyable fairy tale/space opera mashup How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse by K. Eason. Adrian Tchaikovsky impressed with his flintlock fantasy
examination of war in Guns of the Dawn, while Marie Brennan wrapped her five-book series of the lady dragon scientist Lady Trent in Within the Sanctuary of Wings. I also was unexpectedly impressed by the middle-grade ghost tale The In-Between and enjoyed the thrillers Alone (Megan E. Freeman) and The Girl in the Well is Me (Karen Rivers). I even found time for a fun little picture book at work, Tara Lazar's 7 Ate 9, and finally got around to Stephen King's classic The Shining. As a counterpoint to that title, the month's clear low point was another hotel-based tale of suspense, Shari Lapena's An Unwanted Guest, a story so generic and bland that I found myself forgetting it even before I'd finished.
I got quite a lot of reading (and listening, though audiobooks count as reading) done in April, starting with the graphic novel/picture book Captain Raptor and the Space Pirates by Kevin O'Malley and Patrick O'Brian and
ending with the dark near-future vampire tale Certain Dark Things by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Highlights in between included Darcie Little Badger's indigenous-inspired tale Elatsoe, Adrian Tchaikovsky's space opera Shards of Earth, and Rebecca Coffindaffer's lively space adventure, the Crownchasers duology. I was disappointed by Charles Martin's tale of wilderness survival and broken hearts, The Mountain Between Us, though, and thought a few - such as Margarita Montimore's time travel tale Oona Out of Order and Karen Mascarenhas's The Psychology of Time Travel - could've done more with their promising setups.
May started with an audiobook version of the classic Beowulf, translated by Stephen Mitchell, and also Italo Calvino's parody of medieval chivalry (and numerous other topics) The Nonexistent Knight. Katherine Applegate impressed me yet again with her story of ecological imbalance and a young outcast finding her voice in Willodeen, and Martha Wells's memorable SecUnit Murderbot returned in Network Effect. Unfortunately, despite the potential in the premise, Rachel Bach failed to impress me with her space adventure Fortune's Pawn, and after initial interest the final parts of Natalie Zina Walschots's deconstruction of superheroes and villains, Hench, left me cold and more than a little repelled.
June was my most prolific month, with fifteen reviews posted. From classics including Richard Matheson's I Am Legend and Other Stories, John W. Campbell Jr.'s horror classic Who Goes There?, and E. M. Forster's The Machine Stops to near-new titles like A. Deborah Baker's Along the Saltwise Sea (second in the delightful Up-and-Under series) and the children's urban fantasy tale Dragons in a Bag by Zetta Elliott, I managed a range of tales and ratings. Top titles included Zeno Alexander's middle-grade tale of a fantastical library under attack from all too real threats in the Library of Ever duology, Jessie Mihalik's somewhat predictable but still enjoyable space adventure/romance Hunt the Stars, and the finale of Jeff Lemire's Descender/Ascender graphic novel series in Ascender Volume 4: Star Seed. Despite enjoying the first installment of Sarah Beth Durst's Queens of Renthia series in Queen of Blood, I was disappointed in the sequel, The Reluctant Queen, enough that I don't see myself continuing. I also mostly enjoyed Rainbow Rowell's first entry in her fantasy/queer romance Simon Snow series, Carry On, a deconstruction of Harry Potter-style hidden world fantasies, yet find myself on the fence as to whether I'm interested enough in the world or characters to read on; it felt more like a self-aware deconstruction than a world and characters in which to become invested for their own sakes, if that makes any sense.
Though July was one of my less impressive months in terms of numbers, there were no outright clunkers among them. I was very pleasantly surprised, impressed, and absorbed by Robert Jackson Bennett's City of Stairs, I book
I never would've picked up on my own had it not been part of a "mystery box" online offer. Stephen King also kept me interested in the non-genre Billy Summers, and I enjoyed Mishell Baker's Borderline, an urban
fantasy romance steeped in Los Angeles film culture, more than I expected. I even wrapped up K. Eason's excellent Thorne Chronicles duology with How the Multiverse Got Its Revenge. (I also discovered the first of a follow-up duology or series at a bookstore, Nightwatch on the Hinterlands, but unfortunately haven't gotten to it in the To Be Read pile yet...)
August wasn't too bad, but it had a nadir in S. Kaeth's dragon story Windward; despite some very interesting ideas about dragon culture and the role humans might play in their world, I just could not connect
at all with the characters or their motivations, which kept me from enjoying it. Top reads of the month were Elizabeth Bonesteel's space story The Cold Between and Angeline Boulley's contemporary thriller Firekeeper's Daughter. I checked another classic off with John Milton's poetic take on the Biblical fall of Satan and man in Paradise Lost, and got to a more recent classic in The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub, as well as Robert Silverberg's retelling of perhaps the oldest known epic in Gilgamesh the King. C. L. Polk impressed me with Witchmark, but I felt let down by Stephen Brust's Good Guys, especially given how I've enjoyed other titles of his.
September kicked off with an imaginative young adult tale of flying ships and dragon hunters in Black Leviathan by Bernd Perplies, and ended with the excellent, if intense, fantasy slant on Chinese history in Shelley Parker-Chan's She Who Became the Sun. Between were a few older titles, such as Ursula K. Le Guin's first entry in her lauded Hainish Cycle, Rocannon's World, Theodore Taylor's tale of island survival and overcoming prejudice in The Cay, and the classic short stories collected by BBC Audio's Great Classic Science Fiction, some of which aged better than others. I wrapped up (at least for the time being) two series with Peter Brown's The Wild Robot Escapes and Nicholas Eames's Bloody Rose. Elizabeth Acevedo's free verse prose in Clap When You Land translated decently to audiobook, though I found myself let down after high hopes
in Vivian Shaw's tale of contemporary monster medicine in London, Strange Practice.
I opened October with an audiobook version of Neil Gaiman's short story (and poetry) collection, Fragile Things, which mostly impressed. (As a side note, while listening to this at work, at home I was wrapping up Netflix's silly little animated musical confection Centaurworld, where one character's theme song is also titled "Fragile Things". This made for some truly bizarre juxtapositions of moods and mental images and earworms, I can tell you that much... and, dang it, just writing this up brought back some earworms from that show...) Another classic got checked off with Bram Stoker's somewhat lackluster tale of Egyptian curses and English grave robbers, The Jewel of Seven Stars. Christopher Buehlman made two impressive appearances this month, with the post-World War I tale of a cursed Southern town in Those Across the River and a gruesome yet absorbing story of France's plague years as the backdrop for Lucifer's army rising up against Heaven and an indifferent or absent God in Between Two Fires. Adrian Tchaikovsky managed the difficult task of making me interested in spider protagonists in Children of Time (more interested than in the human characters, honestly), while Alix E. Harrow excellently deconstructed the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale in A Spindle Splintered. The recent Netflix adaptation prompted me to take another crack at Neil Gaiman's classic graphic novel series with The Sandman Volume 2, but alas I still just do not seem to click with these, for all that I mostly enjoyed the show and keep
feeling that, given their themes and mythic roots and impressive artwork and such, I really should enjoy them. (I think I liked the show better because it reworked some of the things that kept me from being absorbed in the comics, such as the heavy tie-ins to the greater DC hero universe that act as gatekeeping against casual engagement and constantly remind me why I don't read more "big name" comics. One of the coldest shoulders I ever got was one time I went to a comic book store just to see if anything caught my eye, a dark-side-of-Pluto-level silence and stares from the small clump of customers and employees at the counter that as good as pushed me back out the door without a penny spent. Which is yet another reason why I only read comics via hoopla and my library's online offerings these days... but I digress.) The true lowlight of the month, though, was the thrill-less "thriller" The Stranger in the Mirror by Liv Constantine.
November started with another clunker, Emily Henry's When the Sky Fell on Splendor, which started out like a solid early-season X-Files episode in a small town and ended like... a late, post-shark-jump show that may or may not have ever been tangentially related to The X-Files (so, basically, a late-season episode of The X-Files). When Ruby Dixon's shamelessly smutty sci-fi romp Ice Planet Barbarians produced stronger characters and a better overall story, that says a lot... Yet another classic turned out to be not quite my cup of cocoa (not helped by aging around the edges and all-around preachiness), Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time. The month's clear highlight was Catherynne M. Valente's middle-grade fantasy adventure, Osmo Unknown and the Eightpenny Woods. I also got a kick out of The Poodle of Doom, by Susan Tan, an impulse read at work.
December was an unproductive month, especially on the reading front, due to holidays and due to various weather-related work outages (since a good chunk of my reviews come from audiobooks listened to at work; it's much harder to get alone time at home to listen... or read, too much of the time). I had high hopes for the space elevator-themed sci-fi/action tale The Darwin Elevator by Jason M. Hough in December, but was left disappointed. I had a better experience with Charles Portis's classic story of revenge in the Old West, True Grit, though I remain among the few on the planet who still hasn't gotten around to watching any film adaptation. Ed Greenwood's old-school fantasy adventure The Kingless Land earned marks for wholeheartedly embracing what it was, though at some point I couldn't help expecting something more out of it (and that whole weird obsession with naked women and snakes...). Popular novelist Nevada Barr's Track of the Cat, first of the national parks and wilderness themed Anna Pigeon murder mystery series, was decently entertaining, though I'm not sure I'll seek out more titles any time soon. J. S. Dewes's The Last Watch kept me entertained with its action-filled story of a ragtag crew of misfit soldiers at the literal edge of the universe... a universe that is suddenly contracting at an alarming rate, just as ancient enemies of humanity have re-emerged to throw civilization into disarray. I finished off the month, and the year, with the highly enjoyable and thought-provoking How to Be Perfect by Michael Schur, creator of the TV series The Good Place (a favorite of mine), which explores ethics and morality and why we should really be thinking more about both.
And there it is, a quick (and admittedly not exhaustive) rundown of my reading year. 2022 could've easily been worse, but I'd be lying if I said it was a great time in general. Hopefully, 2023 is a better year
in more ways than just reading (though right now I'd settle for no more expensive surprises, especially car-related ones...).
Saturday, December 31, 2022
December Site Update and 2022 Reading Year in Review
Friday, December 30, 2022
How to Be Perfect (Michael Schur)
How to Be Perfect: The Correct Answer to Every Moral Question
Michael Schur
Simon and Schuster
Nonfiction, Humorous Nonfiction/Media Reference/Philosophy/Sociology
****+ (Good/Great)
DESCRIPTION: When the quirky comedy show The Good Place debuted on NBC in 2016, following the recently-deceased Eleanor Shellstrop after she finds herself misplaced in the "Good Place" after a morally questionable life, it brought matters of ethics and morality into millions of living rooms. The struggle to define morality, what it means to be a good person (and even why one should strive to be good), is one humans have wrestled with since prehistory. In that time, we've domesticated wolves, reshaped the climate, sent space probes beyond the edge of the solar system, and decoded DNA, so one would think someone would've come up with an answer to this whole "what is 'good'?" ethical question by now. Well, they have - numerous answers, often contradictory, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Series creator Michael Schur relates the history of ethical theories and how they work (or sometimes fail to work) in practice, while also discussing his own struggles to define a personal moral code that's both fair and feasible.
The audiobook features cameos from several series stars and a few others.
REVIEW: The Good Place is one of the best shows, start to finish, I've seen. One of its many strengths was its ability to relate complex matters of ethics and morality in palatable ways, no doctorates required, showing how even the most flawed and seemingly irredeemable of people can learn and grow if given the tools and the chance. Somewhat remarkably in an America that has always skewed to an assumed Christian cultural root, the show explored ideas of right and wrong without resorting to religion as a backstop; though there is a metaphysical element in the whole series concept of souls and the Good and Bad places, the characters arrive at their conclusions without the carrot or stick of divine edict driving them. Much like the series, this book also avoids religion, which is - despite what many fundamentalists seem to insist - not a necessary component of morality. Delving into lessons from Aristotle, Kant, Sartre, and others, Schur gives a rough-sketch rundown of the basic ideas behind major schools of thought... all of which require some moderation for practice in a world that's a lot bigger, messier, and more complicated than any strict theory can accomodate. With those tools, he then shows how to approach various problems, from thought exercises like the trolley problem to practical applications such as returning shopping carts, as well as potential pitfalls, and (naturally) some callbacks to The Good Place. Throughout the book runs a strong vein of humor which, like in the show, helps keep the subject matter relatable. I found the whole thing both entertaining and thought-provoking, much like the series.
Examining one's own morality, developing and living by a code of ethics, is not something many of us have been encouraged to actively do. It's a process that is, by its very nature, never finished and requires constant fine-tuning through inevitable failures. There are no definitive and clear answers. There is no one-size-fits-all option. There is also a lot that is simply beyond our control, and it's all too tempting to just give up. In this book, Schur makes a strong argument for why we should make the effort anyway, whether or not there's a Good Place waiting for us at the end of it all.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Predictably Irrational (Dan Ariely) - My Review
Michael Schur
Simon and Schuster
Nonfiction, Humorous Nonfiction/Media Reference/Philosophy/Sociology
****+ (Good/Great)
DESCRIPTION: When the quirky comedy show The Good Place debuted on NBC in 2016, following the recently-deceased Eleanor Shellstrop after she finds herself misplaced in the "Good Place" after a morally questionable life, it brought matters of ethics and morality into millions of living rooms. The struggle to define morality, what it means to be a good person (and even why one should strive to be good), is one humans have wrestled with since prehistory. In that time, we've domesticated wolves, reshaped the climate, sent space probes beyond the edge of the solar system, and decoded DNA, so one would think someone would've come up with an answer to this whole "what is 'good'?" ethical question by now. Well, they have - numerous answers, often contradictory, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Series creator Michael Schur relates the history of ethical theories and how they work (or sometimes fail to work) in practice, while also discussing his own struggles to define a personal moral code that's both fair and feasible.
The audiobook features cameos from several series stars and a few others.
REVIEW: The Good Place is one of the best shows, start to finish, I've seen. One of its many strengths was its ability to relate complex matters of ethics and morality in palatable ways, no doctorates required, showing how even the most flawed and seemingly irredeemable of people can learn and grow if given the tools and the chance. Somewhat remarkably in an America that has always skewed to an assumed Christian cultural root, the show explored ideas of right and wrong without resorting to religion as a backstop; though there is a metaphysical element in the whole series concept of souls and the Good and Bad places, the characters arrive at their conclusions without the carrot or stick of divine edict driving them. Much like the series, this book also avoids religion, which is - despite what many fundamentalists seem to insist - not a necessary component of morality. Delving into lessons from Aristotle, Kant, Sartre, and others, Schur gives a rough-sketch rundown of the basic ideas behind major schools of thought... all of which require some moderation for practice in a world that's a lot bigger, messier, and more complicated than any strict theory can accomodate. With those tools, he then shows how to approach various problems, from thought exercises like the trolley problem to practical applications such as returning shopping carts, as well as potential pitfalls, and (naturally) some callbacks to The Good Place. Throughout the book runs a strong vein of humor which, like in the show, helps keep the subject matter relatable. I found the whole thing both entertaining and thought-provoking, much like the series.
Examining one's own morality, developing and living by a code of ethics, is not something many of us have been encouraged to actively do. It's a process that is, by its very nature, never finished and requires constant fine-tuning through inevitable failures. There are no definitive and clear answers. There is no one-size-fits-all option. There is also a lot that is simply beyond our control, and it's all too tempting to just give up. In this book, Schur makes a strong argument for why we should make the effort anyway, whether or not there's a Good Place waiting for us at the end of it all.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Predictably Irrational (Dan Ariely) - My Review
Thursday, December 29, 2022
The Last Watch (J. S. Dewes)
The Last Watch
The Divide series, Book 1
J. S. Dewes
Tor
Fiction, Sci-Fi
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Ever since the last of the xenocidal alien Viators were killed, humans - the last sentient species to survive their relentless onslaught - have been looking over their shoulders, just in case a handful survived in the vast emptiness of space. To that end, they set up the Sentinels, a series of stations and ships along the very edge of the universe, the Divide between existence and nonexistence. It is from here that many believe the aliens originally came, and here they might (theoretically) return.
It is also here, at the literal edge of nowhere, that the System Collective Legion dumps its misfits, malcontents, and other embarrassments, on centuries-old ships with barely enough supplies to survive, let alone endure an attack that is probably never going to come.
Cavalon Mercer, heir to the royal family's ruthless eugenics-based title and industries, never much cared for his grandfather's extreme plans for humanity's future, and let his discontent be known in a manner so outrageous extreme that he's been disowned and banished to a Sentinel ship, the Argus, to die and be forgotten, not necessarily in that order. His cocky attitude and inability to keep his mouth shut when it keeps digging him in deeper holes isn't going to do him many favors here, but it's not like he has anything to look forward to anyway. Then he meets the Argus's captain, Adequin Rake, a former war hero still clinging to the notion that the legion to which she dedicated her life - and which has rewarded her with this humiliation of a posting - is still worth her loyalty.
What was supposed to be a mind-numbing exile suddenly becomes all too eventful, as shortly after Cavalon's arrival, the crew of the Argus find themselves facing internal frictions, the return of old enemies, the fallout of ages of political corruption, and the literal impending collapse of the universe itself. If they survive, they'll find everything they thought they knew turned upside down.
REVIEW: I've been hearing plenty of good things about this space adventure story, so when it became available via Libby I figured I'd give it a try. It happily lives up to its expectations, delivering an adrenaline-filled space opera. The ragtag crew of misfits facing corrupt or nonexistent leadership, forced to bond as they face a common enemy and become what may be humanity's last hope of survival... yes, plenty of familiar tropes are at play, here, but Dewes uses them well, and there's a reason one sees them so often: because they tend to work. The world and history are sketched out in just enough detail to support the story and create the cast of characters with their many flaws and scars, centered largely around the devastating, millennia-old threat of the Viators who nearly wiped out humanity yet whose technology still forms the backbone of civilization, for all that there's much about it and them that people have never truly understood. There's also the all-too-human threats of politics undermining not only the Sentinels but possibly the future of the System Collective... and, of course, that little bit about the potential end of literally everything - and end which, being right at the edge of literally everything, Sentinel ships will be the first to face. But is anyone even listening to them anymore when they call for help, or are they, as more than one person tries to tell Rake, more politically convenient dead than alive? Not that Rake is a rigidly by-the-books sort of leader herself; her loyalty to the Legion may be personal, but she'll defy any order if it means saving her crew, and for them she breaks every rule in the book (and even bends a few rules of physics, which happens with surprising frequency when one's at the dividing line between the universe and whatever lies beyond it). Cavalon, meanwhile, finally discovers a kernel of self-worth under layers of self-loathing and -destruction, and a reason to shape himself up... just as the proverbial waste product strikes the equally proverbial rotary device, and he's forced to step up in ways he never imagined when he first set in motion the little act of rebellion that landed him in the Sentinels to begin with. Things start moving, if not quite from the first page, then not too long afterwards, and keep moving right up to the end, which resolves one immediate crisis and marks a major turning point for Rake, Cavalon, and the other Argus survivors. I'm looking forward to finding out what happens in the next installment; hopefully Libby and the local library system come through sooner rather than later.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Cold Between (Elizabeth Bonesteel) - My Review
Velocity Weapon (Megan E. O'Keefe) - My Review
The Stars Now Unclaimed (Drew Williams) - My Review
The Divide series, Book 1
J. S. Dewes
Tor
Fiction, Sci-Fi
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Ever since the last of the xenocidal alien Viators were killed, humans - the last sentient species to survive their relentless onslaught - have been looking over their shoulders, just in case a handful survived in the vast emptiness of space. To that end, they set up the Sentinels, a series of stations and ships along the very edge of the universe, the Divide between existence and nonexistence. It is from here that many believe the aliens originally came, and here they might (theoretically) return.
It is also here, at the literal edge of nowhere, that the System Collective Legion dumps its misfits, malcontents, and other embarrassments, on centuries-old ships with barely enough supplies to survive, let alone endure an attack that is probably never going to come.
Cavalon Mercer, heir to the royal family's ruthless eugenics-based title and industries, never much cared for his grandfather's extreme plans for humanity's future, and let his discontent be known in a manner so outrageous extreme that he's been disowned and banished to a Sentinel ship, the Argus, to die and be forgotten, not necessarily in that order. His cocky attitude and inability to keep his mouth shut when it keeps digging him in deeper holes isn't going to do him many favors here, but it's not like he has anything to look forward to anyway. Then he meets the Argus's captain, Adequin Rake, a former war hero still clinging to the notion that the legion to which she dedicated her life - and which has rewarded her with this humiliation of a posting - is still worth her loyalty.
What was supposed to be a mind-numbing exile suddenly becomes all too eventful, as shortly after Cavalon's arrival, the crew of the Argus find themselves facing internal frictions, the return of old enemies, the fallout of ages of political corruption, and the literal impending collapse of the universe itself. If they survive, they'll find everything they thought they knew turned upside down.
REVIEW: I've been hearing plenty of good things about this space adventure story, so when it became available via Libby I figured I'd give it a try. It happily lives up to its expectations, delivering an adrenaline-filled space opera. The ragtag crew of misfits facing corrupt or nonexistent leadership, forced to bond as they face a common enemy and become what may be humanity's last hope of survival... yes, plenty of familiar tropes are at play, here, but Dewes uses them well, and there's a reason one sees them so often: because they tend to work. The world and history are sketched out in just enough detail to support the story and create the cast of characters with their many flaws and scars, centered largely around the devastating, millennia-old threat of the Viators who nearly wiped out humanity yet whose technology still forms the backbone of civilization, for all that there's much about it and them that people have never truly understood. There's also the all-too-human threats of politics undermining not only the Sentinels but possibly the future of the System Collective... and, of course, that little bit about the potential end of literally everything - and end which, being right at the edge of literally everything, Sentinel ships will be the first to face. But is anyone even listening to them anymore when they call for help, or are they, as more than one person tries to tell Rake, more politically convenient dead than alive? Not that Rake is a rigidly by-the-books sort of leader herself; her loyalty to the Legion may be personal, but she'll defy any order if it means saving her crew, and for them she breaks every rule in the book (and even bends a few rules of physics, which happens with surprising frequency when one's at the dividing line between the universe and whatever lies beyond it). Cavalon, meanwhile, finally discovers a kernel of self-worth under layers of self-loathing and -destruction, and a reason to shape himself up... just as the proverbial waste product strikes the equally proverbial rotary device, and he's forced to step up in ways he never imagined when he first set in motion the little act of rebellion that landed him in the Sentinels to begin with. Things start moving, if not quite from the first page, then not too long afterwards, and keep moving right up to the end, which resolves one immediate crisis and marks a major turning point for Rake, Cavalon, and the other Argus survivors. I'm looking forward to finding out what happens in the next installment; hopefully Libby and the local library system come through sooner rather than later.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Cold Between (Elizabeth Bonesteel) - My Review
Velocity Weapon (Megan E. O'Keefe) - My Review
The Stars Now Unclaimed (Drew Williams) - My Review
Friday, December 16, 2022
Track of the Cat (Nevada Barr)
Track of the Cat
The Anna Pigeon Mysteries series, Book 1
Nevada Barr
Berkley
Fiction, Mystery/Thriller
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Anna Pigeon had many reasons for the career and scenery change that took her from life in New York City to the back country of West Texas as a park ranger, but just being away from people ranks among the top five. In the Guadalupe Mountains, in deserts that can get so hot in the summer it's physically impossible for a human to carry enough water to ensure survival, she can find the peace that has always eluded her, and feel a connection to the grandeur and beauty of the world in a way she never found in any of the religious dabblings of her youth.
She never wanted to find a body, particularly not one belonging to a fellow park ranger - and especially not one bearing all the marks of a cougar kill.
The big cats are rare enough, and the nearby ranchers, who always resented the national parks service and its emphasis on conservation, are certainly going to use it as an excuse to declare open season on the few that remain. But the more Anna thinks it over, the more it doesn't track. How could a cougar have carried the body to the middle of the sawgrass patch where she found it without getting a single cut on the carcass? And don't they usually break prey's necks, not just bite and scratch? Everyone tells her to let it go, but the more she digs, the more she finds that raises her suspicions... and the danger, as it seems someone is very keen on getting her to stop her investigations, someone who has already killed once.
REVIEW: Another audiobook selection to kill time at work, Track of the Cat introduces the popular character Anna Pigeon in a thrilling mystery rooted in the desert back country and politics of parks and conservation. Like many fictional detectives, she comes to her first mystery with a troubled past and an ostensible desire to avoid connections and conflicts, but the moment she catches a whiff of something not right about the death of her colleague she can't let it go. She's also spurred by a love of the region and its wildlife, particularly the much-maligned cougars, which she has always wanted to see in the wild - but not as victims of what she's more and more certain is a witch hunt. Along the way, she's forced to reach out to people in a way she's been avoiding since taking her new job as park ranger, first her psychiatrist sister Molly back in New York City and then to a fellow park employee and single mother (Anna's ongoing side-fling with a local eco-warrior notwithstanding; it's clear from the start that she sees that relationship as just physical, while he sees something more). Attempts on her life and more victims raise the stakes as she tries to figure out the killer's motive and identity, with some false starts and dead ends, building to an intense showdown with the fate of the park's big cats on the line. At times, it felt like Anna was dithering to draw out the story, and a few elements of the solution felt a bit convenient, but Barr's ability to evoke the desert wilderness managed to keep the rating in the solid Good range.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Canyon's Edge (Dusti Bowling) - My Review
Scat (Carl Hiaasen) - My Review
Breaking Wild (Diane Les Bequets) - My Review
The Anna Pigeon Mysteries series, Book 1
Nevada Barr
Berkley
Fiction, Mystery/Thriller
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Anna Pigeon had many reasons for the career and scenery change that took her from life in New York City to the back country of West Texas as a park ranger, but just being away from people ranks among the top five. In the Guadalupe Mountains, in deserts that can get so hot in the summer it's physically impossible for a human to carry enough water to ensure survival, she can find the peace that has always eluded her, and feel a connection to the grandeur and beauty of the world in a way she never found in any of the religious dabblings of her youth.
She never wanted to find a body, particularly not one belonging to a fellow park ranger - and especially not one bearing all the marks of a cougar kill.
The big cats are rare enough, and the nearby ranchers, who always resented the national parks service and its emphasis on conservation, are certainly going to use it as an excuse to declare open season on the few that remain. But the more Anna thinks it over, the more it doesn't track. How could a cougar have carried the body to the middle of the sawgrass patch where she found it without getting a single cut on the carcass? And don't they usually break prey's necks, not just bite and scratch? Everyone tells her to let it go, but the more she digs, the more she finds that raises her suspicions... and the danger, as it seems someone is very keen on getting her to stop her investigations, someone who has already killed once.
REVIEW: Another audiobook selection to kill time at work, Track of the Cat introduces the popular character Anna Pigeon in a thrilling mystery rooted in the desert back country and politics of parks and conservation. Like many fictional detectives, she comes to her first mystery with a troubled past and an ostensible desire to avoid connections and conflicts, but the moment she catches a whiff of something not right about the death of her colleague she can't let it go. She's also spurred by a love of the region and its wildlife, particularly the much-maligned cougars, which she has always wanted to see in the wild - but not as victims of what she's more and more certain is a witch hunt. Along the way, she's forced to reach out to people in a way she's been avoiding since taking her new job as park ranger, first her psychiatrist sister Molly back in New York City and then to a fellow park employee and single mother (Anna's ongoing side-fling with a local eco-warrior notwithstanding; it's clear from the start that she sees that relationship as just physical, while he sees something more). Attempts on her life and more victims raise the stakes as she tries to figure out the killer's motive and identity, with some false starts and dead ends, building to an intense showdown with the fate of the park's big cats on the line. At times, it felt like Anna was dithering to draw out the story, and a few elements of the solution felt a bit convenient, but Barr's ability to evoke the desert wilderness managed to keep the rating in the solid Good range.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Canyon's Edge (Dusti Bowling) - My Review
Scat (Carl Hiaasen) - My Review
Breaking Wild (Diane Les Bequets) - My Review
Thursday, December 15, 2022
Polaris (Michael Northrop)
Polaris
Michael Northrop
Scholastic
Fiction, MG Historical Fiction/Horror/Sci-Fi
*** (Okay)
DESCRIPTION: In the 1830's, the American sailing ship Polaris was sent on a mission of scientific discovery to the wild Amazon. With it sailed a complement of ship's boys, who were left behind with the vessel while the captain, the on-board botanist, and a contingent of sailors struck out up the river... only to return a week later, their numbers halved and the botanist dead. Only a few days into the return voyage, mutiny rocks the ship - only the mutineers inexplicably try to destroy the vessel and make off in the long boat.
The vessel, and the ship's boys, who were left behind.
As the only crew members left aboard, the kids realize it's up to them to take the abandoned Polaris back to New York City, or at least American waters... but they also learn all too soon why the mutineers wanted to sink the ship. Something lurks in the depths of the hold, something that followed them from the Amazon jungle.
REVIEW: This started out as a decently suspenseful tale of survival on the high seas, complicated by the unknown threat lurking under the deck, not to mention tensions over who should be the new captain and where they mean to go. The logical leader is Owen, cabin boy and nephew of the ship's captain (and possible heir to the vessel itself, should his naval career last so long), but brash Thacher also makes a play for leadership, and actually has some decent points when he argues for making landfall and escape as soon as possible rather than returning to American ports. Meanwhile, the "Spanish twins" Manny and Mario are hiding their own secrets, and botanist's apprentice Henry struggles with his lack of seamanship skills, even as he might be the only one who can figure out the horrifying truth about their passenger... and here is what ultimately cost the book in the ratings. You know how monster movies are often at their most effective when the monster isn't brought into the light until toward the end, because if the camera lingers too long on it it starts looking really implausible and perhaps a bit goofy? The monster here (no spoiler for saying that there really is something horrific in the hold) is something like that. It should be more terrifying, but the description just... does not work for me, making me think of cheap rubber suits and cut-rate puppetry, despite some sliver of real-world science behind its existence. Once I hit that hiccup to my suspension of disbelief, it was difficult getting back on keel, and the whole story started feeling more like a B-grade monster movie (down to a few too many false starts/jump-scares) than the tense, dramatic story of life and death on the high seas that it was supposed to be, with inexperienced children thrust into a situation far beyond their skill sets. When it worked, it worked well, but I fear it just stretched its premise a bit too far, and ultimately let its characters fall into too-familiar and -flattening tropes, for me to really enjoy it.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle (Avi) - My Review
Into the Drowning Deep (Mira Grant) - My Review
Island: Shipwreck (Gordon Korman) - My Review
Michael Northrop
Scholastic
Fiction, MG Historical Fiction/Horror/Sci-Fi
*** (Okay)
DESCRIPTION: In the 1830's, the American sailing ship Polaris was sent on a mission of scientific discovery to the wild Amazon. With it sailed a complement of ship's boys, who were left behind with the vessel while the captain, the on-board botanist, and a contingent of sailors struck out up the river... only to return a week later, their numbers halved and the botanist dead. Only a few days into the return voyage, mutiny rocks the ship - only the mutineers inexplicably try to destroy the vessel and make off in the long boat.
The vessel, and the ship's boys, who were left behind.
As the only crew members left aboard, the kids realize it's up to them to take the abandoned Polaris back to New York City, or at least American waters... but they also learn all too soon why the mutineers wanted to sink the ship. Something lurks in the depths of the hold, something that followed them from the Amazon jungle.
REVIEW: This started out as a decently suspenseful tale of survival on the high seas, complicated by the unknown threat lurking under the deck, not to mention tensions over who should be the new captain and where they mean to go. The logical leader is Owen, cabin boy and nephew of the ship's captain (and possible heir to the vessel itself, should his naval career last so long), but brash Thacher also makes a play for leadership, and actually has some decent points when he argues for making landfall and escape as soon as possible rather than returning to American ports. Meanwhile, the "Spanish twins" Manny and Mario are hiding their own secrets, and botanist's apprentice Henry struggles with his lack of seamanship skills, even as he might be the only one who can figure out the horrifying truth about their passenger... and here is what ultimately cost the book in the ratings. You know how monster movies are often at their most effective when the monster isn't brought into the light until toward the end, because if the camera lingers too long on it it starts looking really implausible and perhaps a bit goofy? The monster here (no spoiler for saying that there really is something horrific in the hold) is something like that. It should be more terrifying, but the description just... does not work for me, making me think of cheap rubber suits and cut-rate puppetry, despite some sliver of real-world science behind its existence. Once I hit that hiccup to my suspension of disbelief, it was difficult getting back on keel, and the whole story started feeling more like a B-grade monster movie (down to a few too many false starts/jump-scares) than the tense, dramatic story of life and death on the high seas that it was supposed to be, with inexperienced children thrust into a situation far beyond their skill sets. When it worked, it worked well, but I fear it just stretched its premise a bit too far, and ultimately let its characters fall into too-familiar and -flattening tropes, for me to really enjoy it.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle (Avi) - My Review
Into the Drowning Deep (Mira Grant) - My Review
Island: Shipwreck (Gordon Korman) - My Review
Wednesday, December 14, 2022
Doll Bones (Holly Black)
Doll Bones
Holly Black
Simon and Schuster
Fiction, MG Chiller/Fantasy
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Since almost before he can remember, Zach has been best friends with Alice and Poppy. Their games take on lives of their own, stories of mermaids and pirates and curses and adventures, many featuring the dreaded Great Queen: the antique bone china doll locked in the glass case in Poppy's house, which the children are forbidden to touch but who has come to rule their imaginary world. Zach can't ever imagine anything changing... but change is coming, whether he wants it or not. They're in middle school now, and surely none of his friends on the basketball team play with dolls or action figures anymore - especially not with girls, who are starting to seem a little different to him in confusing, irritating ways. Now that Zach's father is back in his life, the man is encouraging his boy to "grow up" and stop playing kiddie games, even going so far as to throw out Zach's action figures. Through his frustration and anger and grief, the boy is starting to wonder if everyone else is right, and he is being a baby. He decides it's time to stop playing.
Then Poppy does the unthinkable: she opens the glass case and lets the Great Queen free. Suddenly, what was a remote, untouchable inspiration for childhood stories seems a lot more sinister - especially when Poppy insists the doll is haunted, that it contains the bones of a murdered child, and that the spirit won't rest until they give it a proper burial in its home town, hours away by bus. Already it's plaguing her dreams. Despite his misgivings, Zach agrees to what he's more than half certain is just Poppy's final, big game with her friends before they all get too grown up for such things... but there's more than just imagination at work, here, and spirits are not to be trifled with...
REVIEW: This is a nice, somewhat unsettling story of friendship, imagination, and what growing up means (and what it doesn't, particularly the idea that growing up means having to let go of everything that makes a person who they are in favor of what other people tell them they should be). At twelve, Zach and his friends are at the end of true childhood and entering adolescence, a time of confusing changes that can make a body feel they don't even know themselves, let alone their friends, or what's expected of them now that they have one foot in adulthood but one still lagging behind. He's also struggling to deal with a father who, after a prolonged absence, is trying to settle back into his home and his life, and not doing the best of jobs; throwing out his son's favorite toys is his way of making him "man up", but he didn't think through how the boy would take having his privacy violated and favorite possessions literally tossed in the garbage. In true adolescent fashion, Zach doesn't handle the frustration well, lashing out at family and friends, who are going through their own problems. The "quest" to bury the china doll Eleanor becomes much more than a game to all the children, and not just due to the supernatural aspect (which is very strongly implied but never specifically or blatantly confirmed): they all recognize the journey as a pivotal point in their lives and relationships, possibly the last "game" of their innocent youth, and even if they remain friends afterward they know nothing will ever go back to the way it used to be before. Running away from home to go to another town feels grown-up, but doing so for the sake of a haunted doll also feels childish. Yet the more time Zach spends on the road, finding eerie echoes of their games, the harder it is for him to pretend that the ghost is all in Poppy's head. By the end, the children and their relationships have indeed been changed, but they've also managed to set their own terms, at least for now, on what growing up will mean for them and their bond. It makes for a memorable and worthwhile story.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Knight's Castle (Edward Eager) - My Review
Dragon Magic (Andre Norton) - My Review
The Glass Town Game (Catherynne M. Valente) - My Review
Holly Black
Simon and Schuster
Fiction, MG Chiller/Fantasy
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Since almost before he can remember, Zach has been best friends with Alice and Poppy. Their games take on lives of their own, stories of mermaids and pirates and curses and adventures, many featuring the dreaded Great Queen: the antique bone china doll locked in the glass case in Poppy's house, which the children are forbidden to touch but who has come to rule their imaginary world. Zach can't ever imagine anything changing... but change is coming, whether he wants it or not. They're in middle school now, and surely none of his friends on the basketball team play with dolls or action figures anymore - especially not with girls, who are starting to seem a little different to him in confusing, irritating ways. Now that Zach's father is back in his life, the man is encouraging his boy to "grow up" and stop playing kiddie games, even going so far as to throw out Zach's action figures. Through his frustration and anger and grief, the boy is starting to wonder if everyone else is right, and he is being a baby. He decides it's time to stop playing.
Then Poppy does the unthinkable: she opens the glass case and lets the Great Queen free. Suddenly, what was a remote, untouchable inspiration for childhood stories seems a lot more sinister - especially when Poppy insists the doll is haunted, that it contains the bones of a murdered child, and that the spirit won't rest until they give it a proper burial in its home town, hours away by bus. Already it's plaguing her dreams. Despite his misgivings, Zach agrees to what he's more than half certain is just Poppy's final, big game with her friends before they all get too grown up for such things... but there's more than just imagination at work, here, and spirits are not to be trifled with...
REVIEW: This is a nice, somewhat unsettling story of friendship, imagination, and what growing up means (and what it doesn't, particularly the idea that growing up means having to let go of everything that makes a person who they are in favor of what other people tell them they should be). At twelve, Zach and his friends are at the end of true childhood and entering adolescence, a time of confusing changes that can make a body feel they don't even know themselves, let alone their friends, or what's expected of them now that they have one foot in adulthood but one still lagging behind. He's also struggling to deal with a father who, after a prolonged absence, is trying to settle back into his home and his life, and not doing the best of jobs; throwing out his son's favorite toys is his way of making him "man up", but he didn't think through how the boy would take having his privacy violated and favorite possessions literally tossed in the garbage. In true adolescent fashion, Zach doesn't handle the frustration well, lashing out at family and friends, who are going through their own problems. The "quest" to bury the china doll Eleanor becomes much more than a game to all the children, and not just due to the supernatural aspect (which is very strongly implied but never specifically or blatantly confirmed): they all recognize the journey as a pivotal point in their lives and relationships, possibly the last "game" of their innocent youth, and even if they remain friends afterward they know nothing will ever go back to the way it used to be before. Running away from home to go to another town feels grown-up, but doing so for the sake of a haunted doll also feels childish. Yet the more time Zach spends on the road, finding eerie echoes of their games, the harder it is for him to pretend that the ghost is all in Poppy's head. By the end, the children and their relationships have indeed been changed, but they've also managed to set their own terms, at least for now, on what growing up will mean for them and their bond. It makes for a memorable and worthwhile story.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Knight's Castle (Edward Eager) - My Review
Dragon Magic (Andre Norton) - My Review
The Glass Town Game (Catherynne M. Valente) - My Review
Tuesday, December 13, 2022
Arkhangelsk (Elizabeth Bonesteel)
Arkhangelsk
Elizabeth Bonesteel
House Panther Publishing
Fiction, Sci-Fi
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Earth was dying when the generation ship Arkhangelsk blasted off, carrying with it the last survivors. On a radiation-soaked iceball of a planet, they established a tenuous foothold, the city of Novayarcha, and thus have endured for generations. Occasional raids from outcast Exiles and inevitable losses to the harsh environment notwithstanding, they have overcome old rifts and strife to build a perfect society... one that Anya Savelova, as head peace officer, is proud to serve, for all the personal sacrifices it calls for.
Until she learns it was all built on a lie.
The arrival of a ship from Earth - the Hypatia - should be impossible, yet there it is, orbiting and broadcasting. Worse, it claims that it is just the first: at least at the time it departed, Earth may have been battered, but humans were far from dead. For a tightly-run and highly insular society like Novayarkha, the mere existence of outsiders from Old Earth is heretical, and the ideas they bring downright dangerous - especially as they make Anya see her own world in a new light, and ask questions she is not supposed to ask.
For all that the colonists overcame to establish their "last" outpost, they may not survive this...
REVIEW: First off, I should note that my perception might be skewed by it having taken me a long time to read this title, through no fault of the story. (Have I mentioned that 2022 has been a very aggravating year? Because it's been a very aggravating year, which meant I had to set this book aside for weeks at a stretch to deal with Other Things that came up. But I digress...) So if it took me a little longer than it should have for me to lock into the story's groove, it's likely due to the interruptions. Once I did lock in, I found myself immersed in a well-thought-out story of two isolated populations - one on the planet, one aboard the starship - coming into contact. On the ground, Anya is struggling to cope with yet another unexplained disappearance (not to mention the long-term grief from having lost her own child; due to radiation, the hostile environs, and the small genetic pool in Novayarcha, many die young, and reproduction is strictly controlled), with the officially sanctioned explanation clashing with her gut instincts. Aboard Hypatia, things are far from healthy, as well; a collision in space has decimated the crew compliment and damaged both ship and data logs, making details of their mission fuzzier than they should be. As determined as Captain Maddie is to see their objective - constructing a relay transmitter, enabling communication with Old Earth and further exploration by other starships - completed, the discovery of a surviving colony from the legendary lost vessel Arkhangelsk throws the entire mission for a loop, for all that it offers possibilities. A tentative friendship between Anya and Maddie could build a bridge between the two mutually mistrustful populations or destroy everything on both sides, as cultures clash and xenophobia wars with curiosity, the worst of human nature and society forever in conflict with its best potential. The story progresses, sometimes at a run and sometimes at a walk, wending through revelations, betrayals, misunderstandings, and hard truths revealed all around. Ignorance doesn't erase injustices, and yesterday's lies fester, tainting the future. Things finally build to a solid climax and a pivotal point that might redefine the colony, the ship, and the future. The whole made for a solidly enjoyable story, which I probably would've liked more had I not kept being interrupted by real life; this is not the kind of story where one can just dip in and dip out, but requires some focus and thought and time to connect the dots and follow the threads.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Emergency Skin (N. K. Jemisin) - My Review
We Are Legion (We Are Bob) (Dennis E. Taylor) - My Review
Children of Time (Adrian Tchaikovsky) - My Review
Elizabeth Bonesteel
House Panther Publishing
Fiction, Sci-Fi
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: Earth was dying when the generation ship Arkhangelsk blasted off, carrying with it the last survivors. On a radiation-soaked iceball of a planet, they established a tenuous foothold, the city of Novayarcha, and thus have endured for generations. Occasional raids from outcast Exiles and inevitable losses to the harsh environment notwithstanding, they have overcome old rifts and strife to build a perfect society... one that Anya Savelova, as head peace officer, is proud to serve, for all the personal sacrifices it calls for.
Until she learns it was all built on a lie.
The arrival of a ship from Earth - the Hypatia - should be impossible, yet there it is, orbiting and broadcasting. Worse, it claims that it is just the first: at least at the time it departed, Earth may have been battered, but humans were far from dead. For a tightly-run and highly insular society like Novayarkha, the mere existence of outsiders from Old Earth is heretical, and the ideas they bring downright dangerous - especially as they make Anya see her own world in a new light, and ask questions she is not supposed to ask.
For all that the colonists overcame to establish their "last" outpost, they may not survive this...
REVIEW: First off, I should note that my perception might be skewed by it having taken me a long time to read this title, through no fault of the story. (Have I mentioned that 2022 has been a very aggravating year? Because it's been a very aggravating year, which meant I had to set this book aside for weeks at a stretch to deal with Other Things that came up. But I digress...) So if it took me a little longer than it should have for me to lock into the story's groove, it's likely due to the interruptions. Once I did lock in, I found myself immersed in a well-thought-out story of two isolated populations - one on the planet, one aboard the starship - coming into contact. On the ground, Anya is struggling to cope with yet another unexplained disappearance (not to mention the long-term grief from having lost her own child; due to radiation, the hostile environs, and the small genetic pool in Novayarcha, many die young, and reproduction is strictly controlled), with the officially sanctioned explanation clashing with her gut instincts. Aboard Hypatia, things are far from healthy, as well; a collision in space has decimated the crew compliment and damaged both ship and data logs, making details of their mission fuzzier than they should be. As determined as Captain Maddie is to see their objective - constructing a relay transmitter, enabling communication with Old Earth and further exploration by other starships - completed, the discovery of a surviving colony from the legendary lost vessel Arkhangelsk throws the entire mission for a loop, for all that it offers possibilities. A tentative friendship between Anya and Maddie could build a bridge between the two mutually mistrustful populations or destroy everything on both sides, as cultures clash and xenophobia wars with curiosity, the worst of human nature and society forever in conflict with its best potential. The story progresses, sometimes at a run and sometimes at a walk, wending through revelations, betrayals, misunderstandings, and hard truths revealed all around. Ignorance doesn't erase injustices, and yesterday's lies fester, tainting the future. Things finally build to a solid climax and a pivotal point that might redefine the colony, the ship, and the future. The whole made for a solidly enjoyable story, which I probably would've liked more had I not kept being interrupted by real life; this is not the kind of story where one can just dip in and dip out, but requires some focus and thought and time to connect the dots and follow the threads.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Emergency Skin (N. K. Jemisin) - My Review
We Are Legion (We Are Bob) (Dennis E. Taylor) - My Review
Children of Time (Adrian Tchaikovsky) - My Review
Friday, December 9, 2022
The Kingless Land (Ed Greenwood)
The Kingless Land
The Band of Four series, Book 1
Ed Greenwood
Tor
Fiction, Fantasy
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: Once, the land of Aglirta knew peace and prosperity under noble kings. Now, it is a land of strife and fear, with feuding barons and petty, power-mad wizards and monsters and thieves prowling the wilds. Bardic songs tell of four legendary stones, the Dwaerindim stones, long lost to the ages, whose return would summon the Sleeping King from his hidden sanctuary and return Aglirta to its former glory... but such stones could also wake the evil Serpent, enemy of the light, and also place untold destructive power in the hands of the wrong men. Fortunately, in centuries none have located so much as a scrap of a genuine lead on any one of the stones. Unfortunately, nothing lost can stay lost forever...
The towering warrior Hawkril and clever little thief Craer were once loyal servants of the "Golden Griffin" Baron Blackgult, a proud and relatively decent baron of the broken land. But foul Baron Silvertree cast the man down and took his lands. Now Hawkril and Craer, like so many bearing the Griffin's badge, have been forced into an outlaw life, scraping a meager existence from the land. Their latest plan is a desperately audacious one, but desperate they have become: they plan to sneak into the keep of Silvertree himself, or rather the tower of his rarely-seen daughter Embra, known as the Lady of Jewels for her gem-encrusted gowns - so many gowns she surely wouldn't miss one if it were to go missing in the dead of night. When Lady Embra catches them in the act, proving herself to be a powerful sorceress to boot, the pair are sure they're done for... until she demands their help to flee her cruel and power-mad father and his nefarious plans for her. It's an offer Hawkril and Craer literally cannot refuse. In their flight, pursued by the powers of the baron's three squabbling wizards, they cross paths with the shapeshifting healer Sarasper, who has his own price for helping them escape: he has been given a vision by the god of the Great Oak, to seek out the Dwaerindim and wake the Sleeping King. Thus, the Band of Four is born. Together, they will become the stuff of legends... assuming they survive.
REVIEW: There's something to be said for a book that knows exactly what it is and revels in it without pretense. The Kingless Land is the quintessential post-Tolkien, Dungeons and Dragons-esque epic fantasy adventure. Everyone's a warrior, thief, bard, baron, mage, or priest, the world's barely deeper than the paper the map is drawn on (and the characters little deeper than that), the characters careen from one life-and-death fight or flight to another with barely a pause between for a healing potion or magical regeneration, and if you look too hard for logic in the magic system or plot you'll probably be very disappointed, but Greenwood is clearly enjoying himself, and it's an entertaining ride for the most part if you don't expect too much from it.
At some point, though, I did find myself wanting a little more than that. Numerous side characters get introduced for no apparent reason but to pad out page count and squeeze in more scheming and action sequences and general lurking, which too often went nowhere. I also found myself almost snickering aloud at the juvenile mentality evident behind several aspects; repetitive side interruptions portrayed naked young women recruited into the evil serpent cult by being bitten by venomous serpents on the breast (after which they were compelled to kiss the snake on the head, to the snake's evident pleasure... make of that what you will), and the lone female cast member (who wasn't acting out that particular fetish) is repeatedly ogled by the three men she travels with, and even at one point indulges in a hot tub soak with all three, while the author can't quite bring himself to clarify if their relationship is "just friends" or not, sort of like a boy who has just started noticing that not all girls have cooties and some of them might be kind of interesting but isn't quite ready to take the next mental step, despite generic crude references being part of their in-party banter. (The only "adult" relations depicted, snake fondlers aside, were somewhat vague instances with the abused "love chamber" slaves of the cruel Baron Silvertree. So... yeah, make of those dynamics what you will, I suppose...) The story as a whole becomes a big, tumbling ball of violent party encounters and monsters and whizz-bang wizardry and almost stumbling into quest goals, before coming to what's not so much a conclusion as a pause before the next phase of the Band of Four's adventures and Aglirta's future. I was honestly surprised when I saw that it was published in 2001; this is the kind of tale I would've expected back in the 1980's or 1990's.
As I said at the start of the review, there is something to be said for The Kingless Land in that it never pretends to be more than it is, and it does deliver on its promise of near-nonstop action and adventure and magic and danger. If that's all one wants out of a tale, it's enjoyable enough on that level. I have encountered worse, but I've also encountered (and, to be honest, have come to expect) better in the genre.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Swords and Deviltry (Fritz Leiber) - My Review
The Dragons of Autumn Twilight (Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman) - My Review
The Copper Promise (Jen Williams) - My Review
The Band of Four series, Book 1
Ed Greenwood
Tor
Fiction, Fantasy
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: Once, the land of Aglirta knew peace and prosperity under noble kings. Now, it is a land of strife and fear, with feuding barons and petty, power-mad wizards and monsters and thieves prowling the wilds. Bardic songs tell of four legendary stones, the Dwaerindim stones, long lost to the ages, whose return would summon the Sleeping King from his hidden sanctuary and return Aglirta to its former glory... but such stones could also wake the evil Serpent, enemy of the light, and also place untold destructive power in the hands of the wrong men. Fortunately, in centuries none have located so much as a scrap of a genuine lead on any one of the stones. Unfortunately, nothing lost can stay lost forever...
The towering warrior Hawkril and clever little thief Craer were once loyal servants of the "Golden Griffin" Baron Blackgult, a proud and relatively decent baron of the broken land. But foul Baron Silvertree cast the man down and took his lands. Now Hawkril and Craer, like so many bearing the Griffin's badge, have been forced into an outlaw life, scraping a meager existence from the land. Their latest plan is a desperately audacious one, but desperate they have become: they plan to sneak into the keep of Silvertree himself, or rather the tower of his rarely-seen daughter Embra, known as the Lady of Jewels for her gem-encrusted gowns - so many gowns she surely wouldn't miss one if it were to go missing in the dead of night. When Lady Embra catches them in the act, proving herself to be a powerful sorceress to boot, the pair are sure they're done for... until she demands their help to flee her cruel and power-mad father and his nefarious plans for her. It's an offer Hawkril and Craer literally cannot refuse. In their flight, pursued by the powers of the baron's three squabbling wizards, they cross paths with the shapeshifting healer Sarasper, who has his own price for helping them escape: he has been given a vision by the god of the Great Oak, to seek out the Dwaerindim and wake the Sleeping King. Thus, the Band of Four is born. Together, they will become the stuff of legends... assuming they survive.
REVIEW: There's something to be said for a book that knows exactly what it is and revels in it without pretense. The Kingless Land is the quintessential post-Tolkien, Dungeons and Dragons-esque epic fantasy adventure. Everyone's a warrior, thief, bard, baron, mage, or priest, the world's barely deeper than the paper the map is drawn on (and the characters little deeper than that), the characters careen from one life-and-death fight or flight to another with barely a pause between for a healing potion or magical regeneration, and if you look too hard for logic in the magic system or plot you'll probably be very disappointed, but Greenwood is clearly enjoying himself, and it's an entertaining ride for the most part if you don't expect too much from it.
At some point, though, I did find myself wanting a little more than that. Numerous side characters get introduced for no apparent reason but to pad out page count and squeeze in more scheming and action sequences and general lurking, which too often went nowhere. I also found myself almost snickering aloud at the juvenile mentality evident behind several aspects; repetitive side interruptions portrayed naked young women recruited into the evil serpent cult by being bitten by venomous serpents on the breast (after which they were compelled to kiss the snake on the head, to the snake's evident pleasure... make of that what you will), and the lone female cast member (who wasn't acting out that particular fetish) is repeatedly ogled by the three men she travels with, and even at one point indulges in a hot tub soak with all three, while the author can't quite bring himself to clarify if their relationship is "just friends" or not, sort of like a boy who has just started noticing that not all girls have cooties and some of them might be kind of interesting but isn't quite ready to take the next mental step, despite generic crude references being part of their in-party banter. (The only "adult" relations depicted, snake fondlers aside, were somewhat vague instances with the abused "love chamber" slaves of the cruel Baron Silvertree. So... yeah, make of those dynamics what you will, I suppose...) The story as a whole becomes a big, tumbling ball of violent party encounters and monsters and whizz-bang wizardry and almost stumbling into quest goals, before coming to what's not so much a conclusion as a pause before the next phase of the Band of Four's adventures and Aglirta's future. I was honestly surprised when I saw that it was published in 2001; this is the kind of tale I would've expected back in the 1980's or 1990's.
As I said at the start of the review, there is something to be said for The Kingless Land in that it never pretends to be more than it is, and it does deliver on its promise of near-nonstop action and adventure and magic and danger. If that's all one wants out of a tale, it's enjoyable enough on that level. I have encountered worse, but I've also encountered (and, to be honest, have come to expect) better in the genre.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Swords and Deviltry (Fritz Leiber) - My Review
The Dragons of Autumn Twilight (Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman) - My Review
The Copper Promise (Jen Williams) - My Review
Wednesday, December 7, 2022
True Grit (Charles Portis)
True Grit
Charles Portis
Recorded Books
Fiction, Western
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: In 1878, Arkansas-born Mattie Ross got word that her beloved father had been shot and killed by Tom Chaney, a drifter he'd taken pity on. Even though the crime was witnessed by numerous people, not one lifted so much as a finger to help, let alone pursue the fleeing Tom as he disappeared into the wilds of Indian country. Even at fourteen, Mattie was a practical and hard-headed sort, and surely if a job was to be done, the only way was to do it herself. She hires drunken washup marshal Rooster Cogburn to track down Tom and bring him to justice, and insists on riding along herself to see that it's done and done right. But the world is bigger and wilder than even she can imagine, and the kind of man who would gun down a friend and benefactor in broad daylight isn't the kind to come easily to justice...
This audiobook version includes an essay by the narrator Donna Tartt.
REVIEW: This classic Western, published in 1968, has been adapted at least twice (though I've yet to get around to either version). Portis creates a singularly headstrong character in Mattie Ross, a tough farmgirl with a very clear sense of both her worth and of right and wrong, who isn't about to let the apathy and incompetence of others get between her and her goals, no matter the cost or consequences. She also has clear Opinions, capitalized and underlined, on people, politics, and religion, and brooks no argument or correction. Her first obstacle is convincing Rooster and interloping Texas Ranger LaBoeuf, who has his own reasons for hunting down Chaney, that she's not a liability. Next is the actual tracking down and bringing in (or bringing down - either works for Mattie) of the criminal, who has fallen in with a notorious gang of bank robbers. Mattie is so driven in her quest for vengeance and righting a wrong (and being taken seriously in a world that dismisses her as a girl and a child) that she never stops to think about whether success will truly bring her what she wants or needs, and the more she's opposed the more she digs in. She is, in truth, no slouch, more than a match in personality (if not life experience) for the two men she travels with, and her narrative voice has a ring of authenticity to it, the voice of a lost era and mindset. It's a straightforward, unflinching tale with more than a touch of deadpan humor, a tale that doesn't wander into tangents or get too full of itself with metaphors or messages. As for the included essay, it ran a bit long for my tastes, but it conveys how a story can resonate through generations in a family. I can see why True Grit is still considered a classic, and in truth I enjoyed it more than several books that have that title.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Vengeance Road (Erin Bowman) - My Review
Six-Shooter Tales (I. J. Parnham) - My Review
Unwanted: Dead or Alive (Gene Shelton) - My Review
Charles Portis
Recorded Books
Fiction, Western
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: In 1878, Arkansas-born Mattie Ross got word that her beloved father had been shot and killed by Tom Chaney, a drifter he'd taken pity on. Even though the crime was witnessed by numerous people, not one lifted so much as a finger to help, let alone pursue the fleeing Tom as he disappeared into the wilds of Indian country. Even at fourteen, Mattie was a practical and hard-headed sort, and surely if a job was to be done, the only way was to do it herself. She hires drunken washup marshal Rooster Cogburn to track down Tom and bring him to justice, and insists on riding along herself to see that it's done and done right. But the world is bigger and wilder than even she can imagine, and the kind of man who would gun down a friend and benefactor in broad daylight isn't the kind to come easily to justice...
This audiobook version includes an essay by the narrator Donna Tartt.
REVIEW: This classic Western, published in 1968, has been adapted at least twice (though I've yet to get around to either version). Portis creates a singularly headstrong character in Mattie Ross, a tough farmgirl with a very clear sense of both her worth and of right and wrong, who isn't about to let the apathy and incompetence of others get between her and her goals, no matter the cost or consequences. She also has clear Opinions, capitalized and underlined, on people, politics, and religion, and brooks no argument or correction. Her first obstacle is convincing Rooster and interloping Texas Ranger LaBoeuf, who has his own reasons for hunting down Chaney, that she's not a liability. Next is the actual tracking down and bringing in (or bringing down - either works for Mattie) of the criminal, who has fallen in with a notorious gang of bank robbers. Mattie is so driven in her quest for vengeance and righting a wrong (and being taken seriously in a world that dismisses her as a girl and a child) that she never stops to think about whether success will truly bring her what she wants or needs, and the more she's opposed the more she digs in. She is, in truth, no slouch, more than a match in personality (if not life experience) for the two men she travels with, and her narrative voice has a ring of authenticity to it, the voice of a lost era and mindset. It's a straightforward, unflinching tale with more than a touch of deadpan humor, a tale that doesn't wander into tangents or get too full of itself with metaphors or messages. As for the included essay, it ran a bit long for my tastes, but it conveys how a story can resonate through generations in a family. I can see why True Grit is still considered a classic, and in truth I enjoyed it more than several books that have that title.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Vengeance Road (Erin Bowman) - My Review
Six-Shooter Tales (I. J. Parnham) - My Review
Unwanted: Dead or Alive (Gene Shelton) - My Review
Friday, December 2, 2022
The Darwin Elevator (Jason M. Hough)
The Darwin Elevator
The Dire Earth Cycle series, Book 1
Jason M. Hough
Del Rey
Fiction, Sci-Fi
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: When the Builders ship arrived in the 23rd century, humanity didn't know what to make of it. When it unspooled a fine filament down to Darwin, Australia, then hung inert, people realized they had an orbital elevator, technology that had long been theorized but had never been practical - at least, not with human technology. It seemed like a massive leap forward for the species, whatever the unknown intelligence that sent it may have intended... then the disease set in, transforming humans into irrational, mindless beasts in a matter of hours - save those within a few kilometers of Darwin. Now the city and the stations spaced along the length of the alien filament are all that remain of human civilization - and still, nobody knows why it was built, or what its purpose is, or if its makers intend to come again, bringing more gifts and calamities.
Skyler is one of a handful of people immune to the disease that creates "subs" - subhumans - beyond Darwin's boundaries. As such, he and his small crew are in high demand as scavengers, scrounging ruins for needed supplies and the occasional luxury (on and off the books). He was just coming home after another mission when the unthinkable happens: the elevator lurches to a halt. In theory, it should be impossible, as it generates its own power from static in the air, yet it happens, and keeps happening more often as the days pass. As those on the ground and in orbit try to figure out the cause (and/or try to leverage things to their personal advantage), nobody wants to consider what it may mean for the future of humanity... especially if, as some fear, it signals the imminent return of the Builders and another cataclysmic change on the horizon.
REVIEW: It sounded like an interesting, action-filled sci-fi story, and at first that's exactly what it delivers. The characters - from brooding scavenger Skyler to Darwin's ambitious/borderline mustache-twirling leader to an almost too-innocent orbital scientist taken under the wing of a tycoon with a hidden agenda - may not be stunningly original, but they don't need to be, and they fill their roles decently enough. Human nature has made the best and the worst of the alien elevator; the fact that the mystery disease accentuates one random human trait to the point of unthinking insanity almost feels like an alien commentary on our species, forcing people to confront what they truly are beneath the veneer of civilization. While some people look upon the Builder tech as a scientific puzzle, others see a stepping stone to a new era, or a tool to raise themselves to power, or a symbol of their oppression and everything lost since the elevator's arrival a scant few decades before the story begins. Likewise, as some race to unravel the new irregularities in the "aura" that protects what's left of civilization from the disease (and the possibility of the elevator failing altogether, essentially a death blow for the species), others only care about what they can grab for themselves as the rules change and power shifts. Through it all, people like Skyler and his crew can only do their best to survive, even as they're pulled into greater machinations and dangers.
I really can't say precisely when and where the story stopped being an engaging (and somewhat thought-provoking) story for me, but at some point I found myself just... not enjoying it as much as I had been. The characters that had been serviceable (if, as noted earlier, not entirely original) started feeling more like overworn, somewhat threadbare (not to mention testosterone-heavy) tropes, down to mildly forced romance and the ever-tiresome reliance on bad guys ogling and groping and threatening women with rape to emphasize the fact that they're bad. Generic guys doing generic guy action things began to wear thin. The sense of wonder and possibilities that the Builders and the elevator initially generated felt short-changed, for all that it was supposed to be pivotal to the overall story. Then the ending just became a lump of things happening largely to ensure a sequel, without much of a sense of conclusion.
I liked parts of The Darwin Elevator, and it definitely delivers on the action its cover and blurb promise. I just ultimately didn't enjoy it enough to consider pursuing the series, which - given that part of a first book's job is to hook a reader into continuing - means it didn't work for me on some level.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Lagoon (Nnedi Okorafor) - My Review
Way Station (Clifford D. Simak) - My Review
Night Train to Rigel (Timothy Zahn) - My Review
The Dire Earth Cycle series, Book 1
Jason M. Hough
Del Rey
Fiction, Sci-Fi
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: When the Builders ship arrived in the 23rd century, humanity didn't know what to make of it. When it unspooled a fine filament down to Darwin, Australia, then hung inert, people realized they had an orbital elevator, technology that had long been theorized but had never been practical - at least, not with human technology. It seemed like a massive leap forward for the species, whatever the unknown intelligence that sent it may have intended... then the disease set in, transforming humans into irrational, mindless beasts in a matter of hours - save those within a few kilometers of Darwin. Now the city and the stations spaced along the length of the alien filament are all that remain of human civilization - and still, nobody knows why it was built, or what its purpose is, or if its makers intend to come again, bringing more gifts and calamities.
Skyler is one of a handful of people immune to the disease that creates "subs" - subhumans - beyond Darwin's boundaries. As such, he and his small crew are in high demand as scavengers, scrounging ruins for needed supplies and the occasional luxury (on and off the books). He was just coming home after another mission when the unthinkable happens: the elevator lurches to a halt. In theory, it should be impossible, as it generates its own power from static in the air, yet it happens, and keeps happening more often as the days pass. As those on the ground and in orbit try to figure out the cause (and/or try to leverage things to their personal advantage), nobody wants to consider what it may mean for the future of humanity... especially if, as some fear, it signals the imminent return of the Builders and another cataclysmic change on the horizon.
REVIEW: It sounded like an interesting, action-filled sci-fi story, and at first that's exactly what it delivers. The characters - from brooding scavenger Skyler to Darwin's ambitious/borderline mustache-twirling leader to an almost too-innocent orbital scientist taken under the wing of a tycoon with a hidden agenda - may not be stunningly original, but they don't need to be, and they fill their roles decently enough. Human nature has made the best and the worst of the alien elevator; the fact that the mystery disease accentuates one random human trait to the point of unthinking insanity almost feels like an alien commentary on our species, forcing people to confront what they truly are beneath the veneer of civilization. While some people look upon the Builder tech as a scientific puzzle, others see a stepping stone to a new era, or a tool to raise themselves to power, or a symbol of their oppression and everything lost since the elevator's arrival a scant few decades before the story begins. Likewise, as some race to unravel the new irregularities in the "aura" that protects what's left of civilization from the disease (and the possibility of the elevator failing altogether, essentially a death blow for the species), others only care about what they can grab for themselves as the rules change and power shifts. Through it all, people like Skyler and his crew can only do their best to survive, even as they're pulled into greater machinations and dangers.
I really can't say precisely when and where the story stopped being an engaging (and somewhat thought-provoking) story for me, but at some point I found myself just... not enjoying it as much as I had been. The characters that had been serviceable (if, as noted earlier, not entirely original) started feeling more like overworn, somewhat threadbare (not to mention testosterone-heavy) tropes, down to mildly forced romance and the ever-tiresome reliance on bad guys ogling and groping and threatening women with rape to emphasize the fact that they're bad. Generic guys doing generic guy action things began to wear thin. The sense of wonder and possibilities that the Builders and the elevator initially generated felt short-changed, for all that it was supposed to be pivotal to the overall story. Then the ending just became a lump of things happening largely to ensure a sequel, without much of a sense of conclusion.
I liked parts of The Darwin Elevator, and it definitely delivers on the action its cover and blurb promise. I just ultimately didn't enjoy it enough to consider pursuing the series, which - given that part of a first book's job is to hook a reader into continuing - means it didn't work for me on some level.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Lagoon (Nnedi Okorafor) - My Review
Way Station (Clifford D. Simak) - My Review
Night Train to Rigel (Timothy Zahn) - My Review
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