The Complete Maus: A Survivor's Tale
The Maus series, Volumes 1 and 2
Art Spiegelman
Pantheon
Nonfiction, Graphic Novel/History/Memoir
***** (Great)
DESCRIPTION: Art Spiegelman always had a troubled relationship with his father, Vlatek. He knew that the man, like Art's mother Anja, had experienced terrible things during Hitler's reign in Europe, but still Vlatek could be so very, very difficult to be around. It wasn't until much later that a grown Art, now a successful cartoonist and writer, decided to try recording his father's experiences in graphic novel form. Thus, in a series of interviews and encounters spanning several years, the story unfolds, the story of how a successful young Jewish man in Poland saw the world he knew destroyed and witnessed horrors no human should ever have to experience again.
This edition includes Volume I: My Father Bleeds History and Volume II: And Here My Troubles Began.
REVIEW: I've heard of this book for many years, a Pulitzer Prize-winning record of one of history's greatest modern atrocities through the eyes of one survivor, but it never quite ventured onto my reading radar. In recent times, as efforts to censor and outright ban books gain more traction (and disturbing signs of history repeating itself play out in broad daylight, to the unheeded warnings of many and the cheers of those too ignorant to know how this story always goes and those gleefully aware and spurring it on), I decided it was high time to give it a try; anything they're trying that hard to silence must be necessary reading. I finally manged to secure a used copy... and I only wish I'd gotten to it sooner.
The tale opens with a brief glimpse of a young Art - portrayed as a mouse, all characters in the book being anthropomorphic animals - out roller skating with friends only to fall behind when his skates break. He goes home to his father, but if he was expecting sympathy, he gets none. "Friends? Your friends?" Vlatek tells his son cynically. "If you could lock them together in a room with no food for a week... then you could see what it is, friends!" This moment sets the stage for the unfolding tale, which takes up again when Art is a grown man, his relationship with Vlatek best described as "complicated"... as are Vlatek's relationships with many people, particularly Mala, the woman he married after Anja's death by suicide. The two snipe at each other ceaselessly, driving one another to their wit's end (with Art too often caught in the middle). Even many years later, Vlatek still mourns Art's mother, herself also a survivor of the camps, a pain that often expresses itself in anger and helpless frustration, not helped by failing health. Art's efforts to record Vlatek's memories are as much about trying to bridge the gap with his father and reconnect with memories of his mother (whose own memoirs Vlatek burned in his grief, a tragedy Art struggles to forgive) as documenting a vital part of world history as experienced by one man. In this way, Art develops both himself and his father as full characters, in the present and the past, not just hollow placeholders to parrot facts and figures about the Holocaust experience. This lends the story more weight than anything I recall reading in history class, driving home that these were people, real people, warts and all, who thought and dreamed and loved and feared, not statistics and not some dismissable "other" from long ago and far away. In the present, Art and Vlatek meet several times, visits often ending in frustration and arguments, while Vlatek's past - starting from just before the young man met his future wife and Art's mother Anja (daughter of a wealthy and influential man who learned too late that money was no shield against evil) and wending through the buildup to Hitler's invasion of Poland and the relentless stripping down of rights and basic humanity on the way to the camps themselves. The illustrations sometimes bleed into surreality, the only way to effectively render the terrible events unfolding. Through it all, Vlatek persisted then as he persists in modern times, through a mix of resourcefulness, luck, and sheer stubbornness, traits Art comes to understand (even if he still can't help but find the old man difficult to the point of exasperation).
Spiegelman's simple, expressive renderings and heavy lines are surprisingly eloquent and effective, and the story as it unfolds in both past and present comes together splendidly, as much a tribute to one man's endurance as a testimony of an ugly time that should never be repeated (and yet, unfortunately, has been and is and most likely will be; I'd call these times and events "inhuman" if they weren't so often the flame to which humanity seems to keep fluttering like a moth, time again and again). This is a book that only becomes more important and even necessary as witnesses to World War II fade in the rear view mirror just as fresh new horrors appear through the mists ahead, a dire warning sign as well as a tiny glimmer of grim hope that maybe, eventually, these new evils too might fall and light return to a darkened world.
You Might Also Enjoy:
All Blood Runs Red (Phil Keith with Tom Clavin) - My Review
They Called Us Enemy (George Takei et al.) - My Review
The Nickel Boys (Colson Whitehead) - My Review
Sunday, October 12, 2025
Friday, October 10, 2025
A Week in the Woods (Andrew Clements)
A Week in the Woods
Andrew Clements
Atheneum Books
Fiction, CH Adventure
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: For over a decade, the highlight of the fifth grade year at Hardy Elementary has been A Week in the Woods, five days and nights camping out in a national forest and learning about the natural world. Mr. Maxwell, the science teacher, is the organizer and greatest proponent of the outing, being an avid woodsman and environmentalist. He loves sharing his passion for the wilderness with young minds, always eager to learn... but one thing he cannot stand is slackers, or spoiled, entitled, wealthy kids whose families make their money off destroying the planet. So it was inevitable that he'd take a dislike to the new kid in his class, Mark Chelmsley (the Fourth). The boy's parents spent more renovating a local historic farm house and acreage than the entire town sees in a year, and the kid himself is every bit as disengaged and even snotty as one would expect from a wealthy boy "slumming" with commoners. A kid like that might even ruin A Week in the Woods - and Mr. Maxwell is determined not to let that happen.
Mark is tired of bouncing around the world from house to house, his parents gone on business trips more often than not. He loves his caretakers, and isn't neglected by any means, but he misses Mom and Dad and doesn't really feel attached to anyone or anywhere... until he arrives in the Chelmsleys' latest home in New Hampshire. The wooded hills seem to call to him, and he develops a love of the land beyond anything he's experienced before. The only real drawback is his school - a public school, for the first time in his life - and the science teacher Mr. Maxwell. The man seems to dislike him from the start, the two developing a rivalry that only barely stays civil. But when Mr. Maxwell lets his grudge go too far, Mark finally snaps. He sets out to prove himself to the teacher and everyone... never expecting things to go so wrong.
REVIEW: Many children's books reduce adults to caricatures, mere obstacles that must be either avoided or overcome by the young protagonists. Clements never cheapens his stories like that. Here, both Mr. Maxwell and young Mark are well rounded, with clear roots and motivations for their behavior and their rivalry. The science teacher comes from a love of both teaching and the environment, and has seen what entitled people do to the planet... and what an unmotivated, slacker student can do to a classroom. Mark, meanwhile, has been told time and again that his brief foray in public school is a chance to relax; it won't really count, after all, for a boy already assured entry into an elite private boarding school, and besides his own schools covered most of the curriculum at least a year or two before so it's all old news. His disengagement masks a loneliness even the boy doesn't quite acknowledge, but which comes across to Mr. Maxwell as something else entirely. When young Mark discovers his own love of the woods, this could be a means to connect with the standoffish teacher, especially when he realizes himself how his attitude is contributing to his social isolation and he tries to change, but by then the faculty has made up its mind, especially Mr. Maxwell, who only digs in harder as the boy tries to establish a truce. It all culminates in the promised school camping trip, where Mr. Maxwell leaps to a conclusion and harsh judgement and pushes Mark too far. Given that the title and blurb center this camping trip as a main plot point, it feels like Clements drags his feet in getting there, wandering through backstory and Mark's earlier excursions into the woods on his family's property as he builds confidence and skills (helped by one of his caretakers, who has experience camping from his childhood in Russia). That said, the story does a decent job letting both Mark and Mr. Maxwell earn their lessons (it's not just the child who has something to learn, here). Despite the slower, wandering start, its portrayal of a boy's sense of wonder as he discovers a new world outdoors, how easily miscommunication between teachers and students can start, and the lasting ramifications of classroom grudges rings true.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Janitor's Boy (Andrew Clements) - My Review
My Side of the Mountain (Jean Craighead George) - My Review
Hatchet (Gary Paulsen) - My Review
Andrew Clements
Atheneum Books
Fiction, CH Adventure
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: For over a decade, the highlight of the fifth grade year at Hardy Elementary has been A Week in the Woods, five days and nights camping out in a national forest and learning about the natural world. Mr. Maxwell, the science teacher, is the organizer and greatest proponent of the outing, being an avid woodsman and environmentalist. He loves sharing his passion for the wilderness with young minds, always eager to learn... but one thing he cannot stand is slackers, or spoiled, entitled, wealthy kids whose families make their money off destroying the planet. So it was inevitable that he'd take a dislike to the new kid in his class, Mark Chelmsley (the Fourth). The boy's parents spent more renovating a local historic farm house and acreage than the entire town sees in a year, and the kid himself is every bit as disengaged and even snotty as one would expect from a wealthy boy "slumming" with commoners. A kid like that might even ruin A Week in the Woods - and Mr. Maxwell is determined not to let that happen.
Mark is tired of bouncing around the world from house to house, his parents gone on business trips more often than not. He loves his caretakers, and isn't neglected by any means, but he misses Mom and Dad and doesn't really feel attached to anyone or anywhere... until he arrives in the Chelmsleys' latest home in New Hampshire. The wooded hills seem to call to him, and he develops a love of the land beyond anything he's experienced before. The only real drawback is his school - a public school, for the first time in his life - and the science teacher Mr. Maxwell. The man seems to dislike him from the start, the two developing a rivalry that only barely stays civil. But when Mr. Maxwell lets his grudge go too far, Mark finally snaps. He sets out to prove himself to the teacher and everyone... never expecting things to go so wrong.
REVIEW: Many children's books reduce adults to caricatures, mere obstacles that must be either avoided or overcome by the young protagonists. Clements never cheapens his stories like that. Here, both Mr. Maxwell and young Mark are well rounded, with clear roots and motivations for their behavior and their rivalry. The science teacher comes from a love of both teaching and the environment, and has seen what entitled people do to the planet... and what an unmotivated, slacker student can do to a classroom. Mark, meanwhile, has been told time and again that his brief foray in public school is a chance to relax; it won't really count, after all, for a boy already assured entry into an elite private boarding school, and besides his own schools covered most of the curriculum at least a year or two before so it's all old news. His disengagement masks a loneliness even the boy doesn't quite acknowledge, but which comes across to Mr. Maxwell as something else entirely. When young Mark discovers his own love of the woods, this could be a means to connect with the standoffish teacher, especially when he realizes himself how his attitude is contributing to his social isolation and he tries to change, but by then the faculty has made up its mind, especially Mr. Maxwell, who only digs in harder as the boy tries to establish a truce. It all culminates in the promised school camping trip, where Mr. Maxwell leaps to a conclusion and harsh judgement and pushes Mark too far. Given that the title and blurb center this camping trip as a main plot point, it feels like Clements drags his feet in getting there, wandering through backstory and Mark's earlier excursions into the woods on his family's property as he builds confidence and skills (helped by one of his caretakers, who has experience camping from his childhood in Russia). That said, the story does a decent job letting both Mark and Mr. Maxwell earn their lessons (it's not just the child who has something to learn, here). Despite the slower, wandering start, its portrayal of a boy's sense of wonder as he discovers a new world outdoors, how easily miscommunication between teachers and students can start, and the lasting ramifications of classroom grudges rings true.
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Janitor's Boy (Andrew Clements) - My Review
My Side of the Mountain (Jean Craighead George) - My Review
Hatchet (Gary Paulsen) - My Review
Straight (Chuck Tingle)
Straight
Chuck Tingle
Chuck Tingle, publisher
Fiction, Horror/Sci-Fi
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: It started three years ago, when Earth first encountered a tear in the cosmos. For nearly twenty-four hours, a large segment of the population turned into homicidal maniacs, nearly unstoppable, only to completely forget everything they'd done afterward. It didn't take long to figure out the common factor: the monsters were straight cisgendered heterosexuals, and their targets were anyone who deviated even slightly from strict sex and gender norms. Parents and children and loved ones even turned on those closest to them, mindless as zombies and far more gruesome. Last year, as Earth's orbit passed through the tear again, a vaccine helped reduce the carnage. This year, most everyone predicts things will be even better; after all, now people know to expect "Saturation Day" and take precautions, and as scientists learn more about the phenomenon, surely it's only a matter of time until the threat is neutralized entirely. In the meantime, if people just hide away or lock themselves up, that should reduce the destruction and body count. This Saturation Day, rather than shell out the exorbitant fees for a walled-off compound like Palm Springs or lock themselves in basements or attics, four friends on the rainbow spectrum - bisexual Issac, homosexual Jason, trans Nora, and lesbian Hazel - decide to head out to the California desert and a remote rental cabin, far away from any presumed would-be zombielike killers... and also far, far away from help when their isolated retreat becomes a death trap.
REVIEW: It's hardly a secret in late 2025 that a rabid anti-LGBTQIA+ agenda has rampaged through decades of fragile gains in equality, education, and understanding, sparks of ignorance and fear and hatred deliberately fanned into political wildfires that threaten far, far more than the ostensible target populations. This novella crystallizes the rabid, mindless violence behind that agenda that lies just barely beneath the surface of everyday civility, how marginalized voices crying out for help and justice are too often dismissed, how the collateral damage of inherently hostile cultural and legal norms is brushed aside as acceptable sacrifices, and how allies cannot always be relied upon when knives are out and blood is drawn. Even when Saturation Day brings the horrors out of the shadows and forces the majority to confront the fear and violence that non-straight, non-majority populations endure every second of every waking day, the blood literally glistening on the hands of straight perpetrators, it's too often treated as a minor inconvenience, something to be brushed aside and downplayed or a thing that someone else will surely fix soon, so in the meantime it just has to be tolerated. Tingle also addresses the internal schisms that fracture what should be a united front against the horrors perpetuated against them, as some within the community question whether bisexuals or transgenders or others "count" or should be ostracized to their own ends of the rainbow to fend for themselves.
From the very beginning, the sense of impending doom and madness is quickly established; as Isaac is packing up to flee the city, he encounters an elderly neighbor, a normally nice and liberal-minded woman on her way to be locked up by her son; she's too old for the vaccine, she explains, though she surely means him no harm... until she offers him a fresh-baked cookie with a "surprise" inside. (Signs of mental instability in the affected show up several hours before Earth enters the rift itself.) This establishes the paranoia inherent in the tale, where nobody can be considered safe - not even those who got the shot (which doesn't work on everyone) or are ordinarily more accepting in daily life. Isaac and his friends think they've found a way to outsmart Saturation Day - avoid people, avoid problems - but underestimate just how many people can be in a seemingly uninhabited desert, and just how determined the affected are to find and eliminate target populations. The metaphor's as sharp and obvious as a bloody pitchfork to the neck, though even in the midst of the carnage Isaac tries to resist and deny his own rage at his helplessness and the ineffectiveness of those who insist they'll help the foursome escape. Tingle does an excellent job evoking the terror, tension, and jump-scares of a horror movie, along with some truly gory and gruesome moments. The ending stumbles a bit, but the points it makes shine clearly.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Feed (Mira Grant) - My Review
The City We Became (N. K. Jemisin) - My Review
Camp Damascus (Chuck Tingle) - My Review
Chuck Tingle
Chuck Tingle, publisher
Fiction, Horror/Sci-Fi
**** (Good)
DESCRIPTION: It started three years ago, when Earth first encountered a tear in the cosmos. For nearly twenty-four hours, a large segment of the population turned into homicidal maniacs, nearly unstoppable, only to completely forget everything they'd done afterward. It didn't take long to figure out the common factor: the monsters were straight cisgendered heterosexuals, and their targets were anyone who deviated even slightly from strict sex and gender norms. Parents and children and loved ones even turned on those closest to them, mindless as zombies and far more gruesome. Last year, as Earth's orbit passed through the tear again, a vaccine helped reduce the carnage. This year, most everyone predicts things will be even better; after all, now people know to expect "Saturation Day" and take precautions, and as scientists learn more about the phenomenon, surely it's only a matter of time until the threat is neutralized entirely. In the meantime, if people just hide away or lock themselves up, that should reduce the destruction and body count. This Saturation Day, rather than shell out the exorbitant fees for a walled-off compound like Palm Springs or lock themselves in basements or attics, four friends on the rainbow spectrum - bisexual Issac, homosexual Jason, trans Nora, and lesbian Hazel - decide to head out to the California desert and a remote rental cabin, far away from any presumed would-be zombielike killers... and also far, far away from help when their isolated retreat becomes a death trap.
REVIEW: It's hardly a secret in late 2025 that a rabid anti-LGBTQIA+ agenda has rampaged through decades of fragile gains in equality, education, and understanding, sparks of ignorance and fear and hatred deliberately fanned into political wildfires that threaten far, far more than the ostensible target populations. This novella crystallizes the rabid, mindless violence behind that agenda that lies just barely beneath the surface of everyday civility, how marginalized voices crying out for help and justice are too often dismissed, how the collateral damage of inherently hostile cultural and legal norms is brushed aside as acceptable sacrifices, and how allies cannot always be relied upon when knives are out and blood is drawn. Even when Saturation Day brings the horrors out of the shadows and forces the majority to confront the fear and violence that non-straight, non-majority populations endure every second of every waking day, the blood literally glistening on the hands of straight perpetrators, it's too often treated as a minor inconvenience, something to be brushed aside and downplayed or a thing that someone else will surely fix soon, so in the meantime it just has to be tolerated. Tingle also addresses the internal schisms that fracture what should be a united front against the horrors perpetuated against them, as some within the community question whether bisexuals or transgenders or others "count" or should be ostracized to their own ends of the rainbow to fend for themselves.
From the very beginning, the sense of impending doom and madness is quickly established; as Isaac is packing up to flee the city, he encounters an elderly neighbor, a normally nice and liberal-minded woman on her way to be locked up by her son; she's too old for the vaccine, she explains, though she surely means him no harm... until she offers him a fresh-baked cookie with a "surprise" inside. (Signs of mental instability in the affected show up several hours before Earth enters the rift itself.) This establishes the paranoia inherent in the tale, where nobody can be considered safe - not even those who got the shot (which doesn't work on everyone) or are ordinarily more accepting in daily life. Isaac and his friends think they've found a way to outsmart Saturation Day - avoid people, avoid problems - but underestimate just how many people can be in a seemingly uninhabited desert, and just how determined the affected are to find and eliminate target populations. The metaphor's as sharp and obvious as a bloody pitchfork to the neck, though even in the midst of the carnage Isaac tries to resist and deny his own rage at his helplessness and the ineffectiveness of those who insist they'll help the foursome escape. Tingle does an excellent job evoking the terror, tension, and jump-scares of a horror movie, along with some truly gory and gruesome moments. The ending stumbles a bit, but the points it makes shine clearly.
You Might Also Enjoy:
Feed (Mira Grant) - My Review
The City We Became (N. K. Jemisin) - My Review
Camp Damascus (Chuck Tingle) - My Review
Thursday, October 9, 2025
The Goblin Emperor (Katherine Addison)
The Goblin Emperor
The Chronicles of Osreth series, Book 1
Katherine Addison
Tor
Fiction, Fantasy
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: Maia Drahzar is woken one morning to learn that he has become the elven emperor. He never, in all his 18 years, expected to inherit the crown; for one thing, he's been the least favorite royal offspring of Varenechibel IV since he was born to his goblin mother out of a political marriage and showed too clearly the dark skin of her people, and for another he's spent most of his life in exile on a remote estate to keep him out of the way, without even a royal tutor to instruct him in the ways of court and leadership. But an airship accident claimed his father and all three of his pureblood elven sons, leaving Maia the next in line. From before he sets foot in the palace at Cetho, he has enemies hoping to end his reign before it begins. Even he isn't sure he can fill the role thrust upon him, utterly ignorant of the generations-long alliances and rivalries that fill the vast halls of his new home. But Maia has no choice but to try... and if he can't be the same cold-blooded emperor that his late father was, maybe he can learn a better way to rule.
REVIEW: I'd heard about this story now and again, but not until I was intrigued by the premise of a spinoff series did I decide to give it a try. Set in a world of elves and goblins and steeped in rich cultures and history that stretches far beyond the pages, The Goblin Emperor offers a slightly different angle on high fantasy, centered on one shy, reluctant young man thrust into a role he was (intentionally) not prepared to take and having to learn on the fly what takes most leaders their whole lives to master. This can be a strength, as the tighter focus and limited setting allow the reader to more fully experience Maia's trial-by-fire immersion into palace politics and scheming. It can also be a drawback, as Addison has to spend a fair bit of page time relating the histories and tangled relationships of various key ruling houses, the political stances of various provinces, the roles of innumerable committees and personages and other functionaries, and the deep history of the grounds themselves, among other things - almost all of which has its own long elven name and title and special connotation that the reader must become familiar with to make sense of the unfolding plot.
From the start, Maia is a young man with no true friends, let alone allies, deliberately cast aside by a father who never thought a halfblood boy from an unwanted marriage would ever be useful, let alone necessary for his legacy. His elevation to the throne is a shock to himself and his minder, an older man whose anger and resentment at being stuck in the middle of a marsh looking after the least favored princeling leads to a twisted, abusive dynamic. He never wanted to be the emperor, having little but bad memories of his one and only meeting with his father, and finds the obligations of office suffocating, but escape is not an option, especially not when the next in line is a boy who would be putty in the hands of any "regent" appointed to oversee the throne. Thus, the shy, thoughtful, and sensitive boy bearing scars from a lifetime of neglect and bullying must learn to swim quickly in the quicksand he's been cast into... which he does, but not without some stumbles and setbacks. Along the way, he must finally grapple with some traumas of his childhood and the people who caused them, and determine what sort of leader he means to be. Just being half-goblin among elves who often think of goblins as barbaric cannibals (for all that halfbloods are far from rare) is enough of a challenge, without adding in his utter lack of connections among the courtiers and officials who make the machinery of the empire work (or fail to work). Even the first letter from the lord chancellor in Cetho - the letter informing him of his elevation in status and summoning him "home" for the funeral - contains traps that Maia is too naïve to recognize until they're pointed out; navigating them becomes the first test of his nascent reign. It would, he learns quickly, be quite easy to become a vengeful tyrant given his life until now and the opposition he faces from the start, but he deliberately picks an imperial name that will remind him to seek more peaceful means rather than following in Varenechibel IV's heavy footsteps. His efforts to stay true to the parts of himself that he most cherishes while growing into his robes makes for interesting reading (or listening, as this was an audiobook version)... for the most part.
What weighs the tale down is the very intricacy that gives The Goblin Emperor its depth. Addison slings innumerable names, titles, locations, and concepts at the reader, and while for the most part one can (as in many epic fantasies) sit back and let them wash past as the generalities fall into place, it can get quite confusing when particulars become plot relevant. This may have been easier for me to sort out on a printed page, as names that sound so similar when spoken may have had a distinct enough look to help me sort them better in my head. As it was, I'd be lying if I could keep even half of everyone straight, meaning there were several times when I just felt lost and was letting words go by until I could regain my bearings.
The drawbacks were just barely enough to shave a half-star off the rating, in the end. I enjoyed it more than I didn't, and could appreciate the portrait of a young man learning how to rule and make his mark in defiance of those who would dismiss or destroy him. (And, as I originally tried this to see if I'd enjoy that spinoff series, I will say it successfully convinced me to give those a try; I'm hoping it will be like my experience reading Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows and being blown away after having a mixed reaction to Shadow and Bone, though I definitely liked The Goblin Emperor more than the first Grishaverse novel.)
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Long Price Quartet (Daniel Abraham) - My Review
The Grace of Kings (Ken Liu) - My Review
Shadowmarch (Tad Williams) - My Review
The Chronicles of Osreth series, Book 1
Katherine Addison
Tor
Fiction, Fantasy
***+ (Okay/Good)
DESCRIPTION: Maia Drahzar is woken one morning to learn that he has become the elven emperor. He never, in all his 18 years, expected to inherit the crown; for one thing, he's been the least favorite royal offspring of Varenechibel IV since he was born to his goblin mother out of a political marriage and showed too clearly the dark skin of her people, and for another he's spent most of his life in exile on a remote estate to keep him out of the way, without even a royal tutor to instruct him in the ways of court and leadership. But an airship accident claimed his father and all three of his pureblood elven sons, leaving Maia the next in line. From before he sets foot in the palace at Cetho, he has enemies hoping to end his reign before it begins. Even he isn't sure he can fill the role thrust upon him, utterly ignorant of the generations-long alliances and rivalries that fill the vast halls of his new home. But Maia has no choice but to try... and if he can't be the same cold-blooded emperor that his late father was, maybe he can learn a better way to rule.
REVIEW: I'd heard about this story now and again, but not until I was intrigued by the premise of a spinoff series did I decide to give it a try. Set in a world of elves and goblins and steeped in rich cultures and history that stretches far beyond the pages, The Goblin Emperor offers a slightly different angle on high fantasy, centered on one shy, reluctant young man thrust into a role he was (intentionally) not prepared to take and having to learn on the fly what takes most leaders their whole lives to master. This can be a strength, as the tighter focus and limited setting allow the reader to more fully experience Maia's trial-by-fire immersion into palace politics and scheming. It can also be a drawback, as Addison has to spend a fair bit of page time relating the histories and tangled relationships of various key ruling houses, the political stances of various provinces, the roles of innumerable committees and personages and other functionaries, and the deep history of the grounds themselves, among other things - almost all of which has its own long elven name and title and special connotation that the reader must become familiar with to make sense of the unfolding plot.
From the start, Maia is a young man with no true friends, let alone allies, deliberately cast aside by a father who never thought a halfblood boy from an unwanted marriage would ever be useful, let alone necessary for his legacy. His elevation to the throne is a shock to himself and his minder, an older man whose anger and resentment at being stuck in the middle of a marsh looking after the least favored princeling leads to a twisted, abusive dynamic. He never wanted to be the emperor, having little but bad memories of his one and only meeting with his father, and finds the obligations of office suffocating, but escape is not an option, especially not when the next in line is a boy who would be putty in the hands of any "regent" appointed to oversee the throne. Thus, the shy, thoughtful, and sensitive boy bearing scars from a lifetime of neglect and bullying must learn to swim quickly in the quicksand he's been cast into... which he does, but not without some stumbles and setbacks. Along the way, he must finally grapple with some traumas of his childhood and the people who caused them, and determine what sort of leader he means to be. Just being half-goblin among elves who often think of goblins as barbaric cannibals (for all that halfbloods are far from rare) is enough of a challenge, without adding in his utter lack of connections among the courtiers and officials who make the machinery of the empire work (or fail to work). Even the first letter from the lord chancellor in Cetho - the letter informing him of his elevation in status and summoning him "home" for the funeral - contains traps that Maia is too naïve to recognize until they're pointed out; navigating them becomes the first test of his nascent reign. It would, he learns quickly, be quite easy to become a vengeful tyrant given his life until now and the opposition he faces from the start, but he deliberately picks an imperial name that will remind him to seek more peaceful means rather than following in Varenechibel IV's heavy footsteps. His efforts to stay true to the parts of himself that he most cherishes while growing into his robes makes for interesting reading (or listening, as this was an audiobook version)... for the most part.
What weighs the tale down is the very intricacy that gives The Goblin Emperor its depth. Addison slings innumerable names, titles, locations, and concepts at the reader, and while for the most part one can (as in many epic fantasies) sit back and let them wash past as the generalities fall into place, it can get quite confusing when particulars become plot relevant. This may have been easier for me to sort out on a printed page, as names that sound so similar when spoken may have had a distinct enough look to help me sort them better in my head. As it was, I'd be lying if I could keep even half of everyone straight, meaning there were several times when I just felt lost and was letting words go by until I could regain my bearings.
The drawbacks were just barely enough to shave a half-star off the rating, in the end. I enjoyed it more than I didn't, and could appreciate the portrait of a young man learning how to rule and make his mark in defiance of those who would dismiss or destroy him. (And, as I originally tried this to see if I'd enjoy that spinoff series, I will say it successfully convinced me to give those a try; I'm hoping it will be like my experience reading Leigh Bardugo's Six of Crows and being blown away after having a mixed reaction to Shadow and Bone, though I definitely liked The Goblin Emperor more than the first Grishaverse novel.)
You Might Also Enjoy:
The Long Price Quartet (Daniel Abraham) - My Review
The Grace of Kings (Ken Liu) - My Review
Shadowmarch (Tad Williams) - My Review
Wednesday, October 8, 2025
Voyage of the Damned (Frances White)
Voyage of the Damned
Frances White
Mira
Fiction, Fantasy
**+ (Bad/Okay)
DESCRIPTION: For generations, the twelve provinces of Concordia have held a sometimes-fragile peace between them, united by the threat of the outcast Crabs to the south, the benevolent Dragon emperor to the north, and the powerful, secret Blessings of each provincial leader. Passing down through bloodlines for generations, each dux's Blessing helps their realm to thrive and keeps potential rivals in check, but the magic comes at the cost of a shortened lifespan. Now, in honor of one thousand years of (relative) peace, the twelve Blessed have been gathered for a voyage to the sacred mountain where the Goddess first passed Her magic to mortals, to renew Concordia's ties and remind everyone of the might of the emperor.
Ganymedes Piscero, Blessed of the lowly Fish Province, would rather be anywhere else... because Ganymedes has no magic. That must have gone to one of the other byblows of his unfaithful father. But Fish Province is already looked down upon enough without having to admit that some unknown bastard child is likely running around with a Goddess's power, so it was agreed that Ganymedes would be presented as the true and Blessed heir. So long as he kept away from the others, who always bullied him anyway for his lowly province and his girth, it was a farce he could put up with. But twelve days trapped aboard a boat, surrounded by real Blessed and all their insufferable arrogance - he'd rather die.
Then the Dragon heiress is found hanging from the chandelier above the banquet table - the first murder on a voyage that will soon be awash in blood, mayhem, and danger. And the only one who can solve the murders and save Concordia may be the only "Blessed" with no Blessing - or allies - to call his own... assuming Ganymedes doesn't end up a victim, too.
REVIEW: I admit it - I was lured in again by a shiny cover, though in my defense the early pages seemed fun, a little snarky and intriguing. It also promised an interesting locked-room murder mystery, isolated on a boat with nearly a dozen magic wielders. But it wasn't long before the snark that lured me in became tiresomely obnoxious, the main character degenerated into a useless "investigator" who seemed uninterested in actually investigating anything, the suspects/victims turned out to have less depth, integrity, and believability than a Scooby Doo villain, and the whole thing just collapsed in on itself into a tangled mess.
From the start, the world is on shaky ground with Ganymedes's narration, a voice that sounds too modern and Earthbound to belong in the fantasy world of Concordia; he even shoots "finger guns" at a young couple he's flirting with, in a world where it's never clear that guns actually exist, let alone the casual use of "finger guns" gestures as a mark of interest or approval. He also came across as a teenager, not a man in his twenties, enough that I wondered whether this book was originally intended for a Young Adult audience but had been aged up with the addition of copious cursing, possibly for marketing reasons. Still, I was willing to suspend disbelief for a while, as well as suspending my irritation with his selfish immaturity (partly ameliorated when he sidesteps his selfishness in order to help a bullied child), as it was early in the book and there were some nice, interesting tidbits that promised better things and smoother sailing ahead. But it didn't take long for me to realize that, no, it's rough waters all the way to the horizon. Ganymedes only gets more obnoxious and jerky, and also food-obsessed, because of course the self-loathing jerk in the tale is also overweight for comic relief purposes. He also wastes far too much time, in the book and for the reader, stubbornly refusing to do anything, even when he ostensibly decides to play detective and solve the mystery. What good is an investigator that refuses to investigate? His efforts too often amount to little more than scribbling on a useless "detective board" in his cabin (which even he doesn't take seriously, from the flippant and frivolous notes he pens - it's not like he's in danger himself or anything, to focus his attention - and if the narrator/main character isn't taking multiple murders seriously, why should I as a reader?), and avoiding actually asking useful questions or untangling motives. When he does interact with his fellow Blessed/potential suspects, his abrasive personality and refusal to take anything seriously completely undermines any investigative value before five words have left his mouth. As for his allies, he has the unpromising sidekicks of a sickly teenager and a precocious/pushy six-year-old girl who turns invisible when stressed (her recently-manifested Blessing, after the previous heir to her province passed) and eats far too much page count not contributing anything except being a cutesy distraction from the murder mystery (but, then Ganymedes was already deliberately not investigating the murders, so she could hardly be blamed for that). Again, her presence really made me wonder if this book had originally been intended for a younger audience, one where six-year-olds running around stuffing their face with candy and being in everyone's face while spouting cutesy non sequiturs wouldn't have clashed so blatantly with the whole grisly-murder vibe it intermittently tried to project.
As mentioned previously, the other Blessed - and the world itself - become too surreally cartoonish and flat to take seriously. The magic-powered ship is so expansive and full of so much handwaved, plot-convenient things (cabins so big and transformed that they might as well not even be on a boat, for instance, and cutesy plush dragon servants who mostly exist to be cutesy and plush and provide a convenient way to explain a lack of serving staff, or even how food is prepared), while the people of each province can be readily identified by colored hair and particular traits that would not be out of place in a half-baked off-brand comic book. Eventually, the author gets around to introducing something like character depth and reasons behind Ganymedes's behavior (far too little too late to make me actually enjoy his company as narrator, but I did appreciate the effort), though the ultimate unmasking and explanation happen less because of Ganymedes's dogged determination to find the truth and more because he fails so utterly that the villain more or less monologues their plot just before the final bits. Another late game twist cut the legs out from under a subplot in a way I won't discuss (to avoid spoilers) but which completely undermined one of the few seemingly genuine bits of conflict and character growth of the ostensible protagonist. The last stretch has Ganymedes forced to actually do something, though by then I was long past caring whether Concordia or any of the characters still living in it survived.
I wanted to enjoy this one. It had potential, and it promised something a little fresh and a little different. Unfortunately, the bits I enjoyed (and there were a handful) were too few and far between.
You Might Also Enjoy:
City of Stairs (Robert Jackson Bennett) - My Review
The Flaw in All Magic (Ben S. Dobson) - My Review
Blue Moon Rising (Simon R. Green) - My Review
Frances White
Mira
Fiction, Fantasy
**+ (Bad/Okay)
DESCRIPTION: For generations, the twelve provinces of Concordia have held a sometimes-fragile peace between them, united by the threat of the outcast Crabs to the south, the benevolent Dragon emperor to the north, and the powerful, secret Blessings of each provincial leader. Passing down through bloodlines for generations, each dux's Blessing helps their realm to thrive and keeps potential rivals in check, but the magic comes at the cost of a shortened lifespan. Now, in honor of one thousand years of (relative) peace, the twelve Blessed have been gathered for a voyage to the sacred mountain where the Goddess first passed Her magic to mortals, to renew Concordia's ties and remind everyone of the might of the emperor.
Ganymedes Piscero, Blessed of the lowly Fish Province, would rather be anywhere else... because Ganymedes has no magic. That must have gone to one of the other byblows of his unfaithful father. But Fish Province is already looked down upon enough without having to admit that some unknown bastard child is likely running around with a Goddess's power, so it was agreed that Ganymedes would be presented as the true and Blessed heir. So long as he kept away from the others, who always bullied him anyway for his lowly province and his girth, it was a farce he could put up with. But twelve days trapped aboard a boat, surrounded by real Blessed and all their insufferable arrogance - he'd rather die.
Then the Dragon heiress is found hanging from the chandelier above the banquet table - the first murder on a voyage that will soon be awash in blood, mayhem, and danger. And the only one who can solve the murders and save Concordia may be the only "Blessed" with no Blessing - or allies - to call his own... assuming Ganymedes doesn't end up a victim, too.
REVIEW: I admit it - I was lured in again by a shiny cover, though in my defense the early pages seemed fun, a little snarky and intriguing. It also promised an interesting locked-room murder mystery, isolated on a boat with nearly a dozen magic wielders. But it wasn't long before the snark that lured me in became tiresomely obnoxious, the main character degenerated into a useless "investigator" who seemed uninterested in actually investigating anything, the suspects/victims turned out to have less depth, integrity, and believability than a Scooby Doo villain, and the whole thing just collapsed in on itself into a tangled mess.
From the start, the world is on shaky ground with Ganymedes's narration, a voice that sounds too modern and Earthbound to belong in the fantasy world of Concordia; he even shoots "finger guns" at a young couple he's flirting with, in a world where it's never clear that guns actually exist, let alone the casual use of "finger guns" gestures as a mark of interest or approval. He also came across as a teenager, not a man in his twenties, enough that I wondered whether this book was originally intended for a Young Adult audience but had been aged up with the addition of copious cursing, possibly for marketing reasons. Still, I was willing to suspend disbelief for a while, as well as suspending my irritation with his selfish immaturity (partly ameliorated when he sidesteps his selfishness in order to help a bullied child), as it was early in the book and there were some nice, interesting tidbits that promised better things and smoother sailing ahead. But it didn't take long for me to realize that, no, it's rough waters all the way to the horizon. Ganymedes only gets more obnoxious and jerky, and also food-obsessed, because of course the self-loathing jerk in the tale is also overweight for comic relief purposes. He also wastes far too much time, in the book and for the reader, stubbornly refusing to do anything, even when he ostensibly decides to play detective and solve the mystery. What good is an investigator that refuses to investigate? His efforts too often amount to little more than scribbling on a useless "detective board" in his cabin (which even he doesn't take seriously, from the flippant and frivolous notes he pens - it's not like he's in danger himself or anything, to focus his attention - and if the narrator/main character isn't taking multiple murders seriously, why should I as a reader?), and avoiding actually asking useful questions or untangling motives. When he does interact with his fellow Blessed/potential suspects, his abrasive personality and refusal to take anything seriously completely undermines any investigative value before five words have left his mouth. As for his allies, he has the unpromising sidekicks of a sickly teenager and a precocious/pushy six-year-old girl who turns invisible when stressed (her recently-manifested Blessing, after the previous heir to her province passed) and eats far too much page count not contributing anything except being a cutesy distraction from the murder mystery (but, then Ganymedes was already deliberately not investigating the murders, so she could hardly be blamed for that). Again, her presence really made me wonder if this book had originally been intended for a younger audience, one where six-year-olds running around stuffing their face with candy and being in everyone's face while spouting cutesy non sequiturs wouldn't have clashed so blatantly with the whole grisly-murder vibe it intermittently tried to project.
As mentioned previously, the other Blessed - and the world itself - become too surreally cartoonish and flat to take seriously. The magic-powered ship is so expansive and full of so much handwaved, plot-convenient things (cabins so big and transformed that they might as well not even be on a boat, for instance, and cutesy plush dragon servants who mostly exist to be cutesy and plush and provide a convenient way to explain a lack of serving staff, or even how food is prepared), while the people of each province can be readily identified by colored hair and particular traits that would not be out of place in a half-baked off-brand comic book. Eventually, the author gets around to introducing something like character depth and reasons behind Ganymedes's behavior (far too little too late to make me actually enjoy his company as narrator, but I did appreciate the effort), though the ultimate unmasking and explanation happen less because of Ganymedes's dogged determination to find the truth and more because he fails so utterly that the villain more or less monologues their plot just before the final bits. Another late game twist cut the legs out from under a subplot in a way I won't discuss (to avoid spoilers) but which completely undermined one of the few seemingly genuine bits of conflict and character growth of the ostensible protagonist. The last stretch has Ganymedes forced to actually do something, though by then I was long past caring whether Concordia or any of the characters still living in it survived.
I wanted to enjoy this one. It had potential, and it promised something a little fresh and a little different. Unfortunately, the bits I enjoyed (and there were a handful) were too few and far between.
You Might Also Enjoy:
City of Stairs (Robert Jackson Bennett) - My Review
The Flaw in All Magic (Ben S. Dobson) - My Review
Blue Moon Rising (Simon R. Green) - My Review
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