Tag: book reviews

Book, book, goose

I’ve been tearing through my pile of books lately, so I thought rather than offering an in-depth review of just one, I’d give you the quick and dirty on several.

“Midnight Never Come” by Marie Brennan (2008, Historical Urban Fantasy, 379 pages)

What’s it about?: Set during the reign of Tudor Queen Elizabeth, Midnight Never Come explores the dark magic binding Elizabeth’s mortal court to the underground Onyx Court of the Fey Queen Invidiana.  Part mystery, part romance, the story follows a mortal man and fey woman caught up in the political intrigue uniting the two courts.

Pros: Lovely prose, lots of satisfying moral ambiguity, and great research woven into a compelling plot (rather than being inserted in dull infodumps).

Cons: slow to start; a sense of urgency and investment in the characters didn’t really flower (for me) until the book’s midpoint.

“Mark of the Demon” by Diana Rowland (2009, Urban Fantasy, 370 pages)

What’s it about?:  Kara, a demon-summoner and Homicide Detective with the Louisiana PD, gets assigned to a brutal serial killer case with arcane ties.  Caught between the attentions of a Demon Lord and an uptight FBI agent, Kara races to catch the Symbol Man Killer before he catches her.

Pros: a fast, fun read; explorations of the demon world are particularly compelling.  Some good red herrings.

Cons: a confusing array of very similar supporting characters and some plot transparency (those red herrings didn’t throw me off for long).

“The Heir of Night” by Helen Lowe (2010, Fantasy, 447 pages)

What’s it about?:  The Nine Houses of the Derai have traveled through space to the planet Haarth, fleeing their ancient enemies, the Darkswarm.  In Haarth’s bitter mountains, they’ve built a stronghold to hold back the Darkswarm invasion, but have rejected the ancient magic needed to triumph.  Malian, heir to the House of Night, possesses the magic needed to defend her people, if only they will accept it.

Pros: the concept here is very cool.  The Derai are harsh interlopers on Haarth, having brought a curse down on the planet, and the relationship between them and the indigenous cultures is deftly handled.  I also really like the mix of science fiction and fantasy.

Cons: as the story progresses, more and more of it takes place in a dreamscape.  I’ve never been a fan of this plot device and I sometimes found it hard to tell if something was happening in reality or in dreams.  Also, it should be noted that Heir of Night is the first in a series and is not a stand-alone book – it ends having wrapped up very few of the hanging plot threads.

“Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” by Philip K. Dick (1968, Science Fiction, 244 pages)

What’s it about?:  A bleak exploration of what it means to be human in a post-apocalyptic world, Do Androids Dream follows bounty hunter Rick Deckard as he endeavors to “retire” a record number of renegade androids in just one day.

Pros: Dick is a master of thoughtful, unsettling stories and this one is no exception.  Deckard’s inner struggle with his feelings towards the androids he’s set on killing, as well as his yearning for a real live animal to call his own (along with all the complicated feelings and motivations behind this), make for a genuinely thought-provoking social commentary.

Cons: like any book meant as a social commentary, Do Androids Dream is depressing and (depressingly) prescient.

Okay…that’s four from me.  What have YOU read lately, and do you recommend it or not?

Book Review: The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin (2010, 395 pages, Fantasy)

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is one of the best books I’ve read in a long while.  I loved it not only as a reader, but also as a writer.  This was Jemisin’s debut novel (and is very deservedly nominated for a Nebula this year).  My second thought upon reading the final sentence (after thinking, “drat, it’s over”) was “I aspire to write like that.”

Jemisin creates a vivid world (the titular Hundred Thousand Kingdoms), and the plot is full of political intrigue and mystery, but it’s the characters that really make this book special.  Many of them are gods who’ve been forced into mortal flesh and enslaved to the will of the Hundred Thousand Kingdom’s powerful ruling family, the Arameri.  Petty, compassionate, complex, tortured souls, these gods are as vivid as any human characters.  Though imprisoned in mortal bodies, their divine power can still manifest; Jemisin uses this to potent effect, creating truly memorable scenes and images – such as a god who is forever a child playing with spinning, fiery planets and solar systems as toys.

Into the mix comes Yeine, daughter of the exiled and murdered heir to the Arameri throne.  Summoned by the king, Yeine is pulled into the political wrangling of the human and divine occupations of the fantastical capital city of Sky.  Yeine makes an interesting heroine.  She possesses no extraordinary powers or qualities.  She isn’t beautiful or intimidating or even particularly strong.  What she does have in spades, though, is steely determination and a refreshing pragmatism, plus a passion to solve the mystery of her mother’s murder.  I found myself rooting for her because she seemed so much like a regular person rising to the occasion under very challenging circumstances.  The story is told from her point of view and in the first person.  Usually I’m leery of first person POV, but it’s handled to very good effect here.

The final element I’ll comment on is the story’s primary setting, the city of Sky.  Jemisin has outdone herself creating a place that embodies the people who inhabit it – creepy, powerful, and jealous, yet still beautiful.  Sky is the kind of city that would be born if magic began to inbreed.  The place is fabulously eerie, capable of changing shape, and hides plenty of its own secrets — in a sense, it’s a character in it’s own right.

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms is a stand-alone novel, though Jemisin has recently published another book (The Broken Kingdoms) set in the same world.  A third book is on the way.  I look forward to devouring them both.

Book Review: Dragon in Chains

Dragon in Chains, by Daniel Fox (399 pages, Fantasy, 2009)

Set against the gorgeous backdrop of Imperial China, Dragon in Chains tells a story of rebellion and magic, in which jade can transform mortal men into much more and a dragon lies (as the title implies) chained beneath the waters, waiting to break free and destroy the world.

Fox’s writing is some of the most beautiful I’ve seen recently – evocative, poetic, and spare.  While this does serve to distance the reader slightly, the characters he creates are vivid enough to pull you in.  Each struggles with immediate, personal concerns linked, if sometimes circuitously, to the larger unfolding drama of an empire at war with itself. 

Rather than following a single protagonist (indeed, I’d be hard pressed to identify any one of the characters as the lead protag), Fox puts us in the heads of a large cast of colorful characters – most of them from the lowest levels of society:  a slave, a pirate, an old fisherman and his granddaughter, and a jade miner’s son.  Thrown into the mix is a boy-Emperor fleeing a rebellion and struggling to fulfill his potential.  Fox does an excellent job of dramatizing war’s effect on both the powerful and powerless – and explores these concepts deeply and subtly.

Dragon in Chains is part of a projected trilogy (the second book is out now, the third will be released in a few weeks), and the ending does leave several large questions unanswered.  However, it also ties up many smaller ones – no cliff-hangers here – and gives the portion of the story told in this first book a feeling of completeness.

This lovely fantasy really stands out, both for its less common and very well-drawn setting and for its complex, intriguing characters.  Highly recommended!

Book Review: Beggars in Spain

I’m up early waiting for the sunrise in Arizona (it’s my last day here), so I thought I’d use this time in the dark wisely and post a book review of the latest novel I’ve finished:  Beggars in Spain, by Nancy Kress.

Beggars in Spain by Nancy Kress (1993, 438 pages, Science Fiction)

This book has been in the stack by my bedside for some time.  I’m not sure exactly why I didn’t want to read it, but something about the concept put me off.  So I kept passing it over.  What a mistake!  As soon as I opened the cover and read the first paragraph, Beggars in Spain sunk its story-hooks in me and refused to let go.

Beggars in Spain is a tale of biological advantages.  It poses the question: what would happen to society if some of it’s members never needed to sleep?  Kress primarily explores the economic and discriminatory aspects of Sleepers versus Sleepless (she dwells on the truism that humans love to hate each other and will use any difference as an excuse to do so), but she also plumbs the interior landscapes of her characters’ struggles.  This latter aspect grounds what might otherwise be a preachy science fictional social commentary and turns it into a fascinating exploration of what makes us human.

I’ve heard from friends who attended the Taos Toolbox workshop that Kress (who teaches there) emphasizes writing in scenes.  This now makes perfect sense to me, as she is a master of them.  Each one flings vivid characters at you, embroils them in interesting conflicts, and leaves you wondering what will happen next.  The result is the rapid turning of pages.  While the idea of Sleeplessness and the advantages it might confer (I don’t want to give away any plot points here) is interesting and integral to the plot, it is Kress’ deft touch with characters that kept me reading.  All of her characters are flawed – engaging and unlikeable in equal measure.  Reading about their adventures is a little like watching your friends and family — rooting for them when they make choices of which you approve and frowning with worry when they refuse your advice and head stubbornly down a path you see leading to ruin.

The tale stretches over several generations yet retains an intimate perspective, and Kress wraps up the conflict with a climax that makes sense within the narrative arc of the story but still feels like (somewhat) of a surprise.  The ending was not earth-shattering, but it was satisfying.  When I closed the book and set it down I felt that sense of loss a good book inspires – it was over and I could never again read it for the first time.

But you can.

Book Review: A Fire Upon the Deep

I’m hitting the road again; this time I’m headed to Vegas (for a writers retreat) and then Phoenix (for a family getaway).  I’ll try to be good about posting while I’m gone, but no promises!  In the meantime, here’s a book review of A Fire Upon the Deep.

A Fire Upon the Deep, by Vernor Vinge (534 pages, Science Fiction)

This book was the one that made me want to write science fiction and fantasy.  Round about 2002, I was on a 6-month excavation project in Honduras and I found a battered copy of Fire Upon the Deep stuffed into the project book shelf.  I picked it up, and within minutes was totally engrossed.  Fast forward to 2011, when I spotted a copy on a markdown shelf at Borders (poor, sad, dying Borders) and grabbed it for a re-read.  Man had I forgotten how good it is.  There is much genius in this book – genius in plot, structure, and story, and genius in world-building, too.

On the surface, the coolest thing about Fire Upon the Deep are the Tines, the group-mind species Vinge creates to inhabit a wild, ferocious back-water planet at the Bottom of the Beyond.  They’re like dogs, but “individuals” are created by combining several members into a pack.  Each member performs different functions or brings different personality traits or types of intelligence to the whole, and they think and operate as one.  Though the Tines are truly alien, they are also deeply familiar to us humans in terms of their hopes, dreams, fears, and desires.  Into this world come two children fleeing an interstellar terror set on destroying the entire galaxy (called The Blight).

The deeper genius of the book is how it structurally juxtaposes the plight of these kids as they attempt to survive on the Tines world with the malicious plans of the Blight.  A third plot line involves a group of humans – one of whom may actually be a puppet for a god-like intelligence – and Skroderiders (another fabulously ingenious alien species Vinge dreamed up) as they attempt to rescue the marooned children.

The pace is brisk, yet Vinge still manages to find a way to world-build and exposit without weighing the story down.  As he switches between story lines (and eventually brings them all together), the reader is treated to the full scope of this incredible universe – from the great powers that shape interstellar events all the way down to the tiny individuals caught up in those events.  Honestly, it’s completely masterful.

If you haven’t read this classic, do it now.

Book Review: Sixty-One Nails

Sixty-One Nails by Mike Shevdon (509 pages, Urban Fantasy)

Sixty-One Nails follows the adventures of a middle-aged Brit named Niall after he has a heart attack in the London underground.  This event opens the door to his previously unknown Fey heritage and sucks him into a world where he finds himself hunted and in constant danger.  The novel cracks off at top speed, but, overall, was a bit of a mixed bag.

On the one hand, the pacing was good, the protagonist was interesting company, and the central problem (disruption of a British ceremony performed annually since 1211, called the Quit Rent ceremony) was sufficiently intriguing.  On the other hand, the romantic line in the story (which was prominent) turned me off a bit and the climax came a good 50 pages too soon, giving the actual ending a strange, tacked-on feel.

So, first the good.  In many ways, Sixty-One Nails is a rather conventional urban fantasy involving the Courts of the Fey existing alongside a modern world that knows nothing of their existence (in this case London).  What distinguished the book from so many others was the aforementioned use of the historical Quit Rents ceremony as a plot device.  I got quite caught up in the hero’s efforts to discover why this ceremony was important and how it related to his own predicament.  The history nerd in me really enjoyed this.

What felt a bit flat, however, was the fact that the plot line surrounding the Quit Rents ceremony wrapped itself up well before the book was over.  Subsequently, a bunch of other things unrelated to the main story line lept to prominence at the end of the book.  It was structurally jarring.

Shevdon plays with some cool ideas in this book, though.  One of them was the magic/power the protagonist must learn to control.  I don’t want to give away too much, but it was pretty nifty, if I do say so myself.  I also liked how Shevdon played with ideas of age and appearance and whether they truly define who we are.  Some of this really resonated and struck me as, if not original, at least insightful.  Some of it, though, messed with my enjoyment of the romantic elements of the plot (which made me feel rather shallow, truth be told).  Ah well, nobody’s perfect.

On the whole, I’d say if you dig the whole thing where the Fey and human worlds exist side-by-side, especially when enlivened with cool historically-based plot points, you’ll probably enjoy Sixty-One Nails.

Book Review: Ysabel

Ysabel, by Guy Gavriel Kay (Fantasy, 416 pages)

If you’ve read any of Guy Gavriel Kay’s fiction, you know he tends towards lyrical language and infuses his stories with a unique sense of languid urgency.  By this, I mean his beautiful prose encourages the reader to linger on each sentence, but the pace of the plot nudges you along insistently.  Ysabel, one of Kay’s most recent offerings, is no exception.

Though set in modern day Provence, Ysabel echoes Kay’s interest in the way history is a dynamic force, malleable, intruding upon and influencing the present.  The story follows Ned, a fifteen year old Canadian spending several months in France with his famous photographer father.  Bored by his father’s work, Ned stumbles (seemingly by accident) into an ancient clash between the Celts and Romans playing itself out endlessly through time.  Just as it melds past and present, Ysabel also deftly weaves a large cast of characters into what is ultimately revealed as an intimate family drama.

Despite the fact I was traveling and incredibly busy, I read this book cover-to-cover in just three days.  Once I picked it up, I found it almost impossible to put down.  I think this had something to do with the way Kay united a classic fantasy with a contemporary coming of age story.  Ysabel is a compelling read, beautifully written and plotted.

Also by Guy Gavriel Kay and highly recommended by this reader: Tigana and Last Light of the Sun.

Book Review: Sandman Slim

Last week I blogged about all the lovely new books I got as presents over the holiday, and I promised to post reviews of each as I finished reading them.  So, without further ado, here’s the first review.

Sandman Slim, by Richard Kadrey (388 pages, Urban Fantasy)

This book is written in the first person, which normally turns me off.  But here it really works.  In fact, after the first paragraph, I neither noticed the first person any longer nor could imagine the story being told any other way.  In fact, a lot of what works about the book (and the few things that don’t) are linked directly to the main character’s feeling of rage and alienation, as well as his penchant for self-destructive thoughts and behavior.  All of these smack you with much greater impact when delivered hot and steaming from his screwed-up head.

The protagonist’s voice is probably the most unique thing about Sandman Slim.  He’s ugly, mean, and morally ambiguous.  Kadrey does not hold back in showing us all of Sandman’s neuroses and relating his view of the world as stinking and dark.  There are plenty of times in the story when you don’t like him, when you feel a sort of cruel satisfaction seeing him fail, one that makes you realize you’re actually starting to think just like him.  So, I take my hat off to Kadrey for creating someone so persuasive, who feels so real and so absurdly unreal at the same time.

That said, the story itself didn’t strike me as especially distinctive – a war between Heaven and Hell, a world of magic just outside what mortals acknowledge, fallen angels, evil magicians, and plenty of violence.  But it was strung together well enough, providing enough reason to keep hanging out with the compellingly horrible and delicious Sandman Slim.  That was good enough for me.

My few nits include occasionally cheesy dialogue, Kadrey’s jarring tendency to sometimes forget he’s writing an anti-hero rather than a hero, and the stutter-stop ending.  The big climax comes too soon (or, alternatively, the denouement is overly drawn out).  Further, some of the punch is taken out of the plot in an apparent effort to set things up for the next novel.  But, by-and-large, this book was fun to read (for large chunks at a time, I literally couldn’t put it down).  There’s a sequel out in hardcover now.  As soon as the paperback edition is on the shelves, I’ll definitely pick it up.

In short, if you like gritty urban fantasy that eschews all sugar-coating, you’ll probably enjoy Sandman Slim.

Book Report: Three worth a look

Today I wanted to share some book recommendations.  Between the time I spend on the subway (thank you, MTA, for my 2 hour commute) and at the gym, I generally plow through a book every week or so.  Some are mind candy, fluff enjoyed and forgotten.  Some are interesting, if not entirely successful.  Some prove a slog and lie abandoned on my bedside table.  Some are awesome.

Here are three that I found interesting or awesome enough to want to share:

Acacia by David Anthony Durham. Genre: fantasy. 753 pages (and the first in a series).

It should be said upfront that I’m a fan of epic fantasy, especially the kind that dwells in rich, believable worlds where “good” and “evil” are relative, complex concepts and elves and dwarves have little place.  Acacia hits all these marks, and then some.  Following the struggles of four royal children scattered and in hiding after their father’s kingdom is conquered, Acacia is (in my view) about the relationship between compromise and power.  The characters are all sketched with deft lines and are both sympathetic and unsympathetic, strong and weak.  The “villains” are frequently humanized and the “heroes” sometimes make cruel or foolish choices.  Best of all, Durham’s background as an historian grounds the epic sweep of this tale in details that feel real.  You almost believe the kingdom of Acacia existed and the wars waged over it truly happened.  More please.

Unholy Ghosts by Stacia Kane. Genre: Urban Fantasy. 346 pages (and the first in a series)

I haven’t read much Urban Fantasy until lately.  Frankly, I thought it was all werewolf or vampire porn.  But, it seems I was wrongly conflating Urban Fantasy with Paranormal Romance, and the ghost-infested world of Downside in Stacia’s Kane’s books has made me a convert.  Unholy Ghosts (and the follow-up novels) are urgent, gritty, ugly, and addictive.  There was some controversy about the book when it first came out, largely because Kane’s protagonist, Chess, is a drug addict.  Here’s a good summary of the controversy.  As others have pointed out, the flawed protagonist is one of the novel’s great strengths.  Chess’s addiction isn’t a side feature of her character, but (as it would in real life) steers her choices (usually bad ones) as she tries to balance her job debunking haunting claims for the Church of Real Truth with her life in the gangland underbelly of Downside.  Awesome characters abound and Chess herself is as often frustrating as she is heroic.

Finch by Jeff Vandermeer. Genre: Steampunk? Urban Fantasy? Fantasy thriller? I really have no idea.  334 pages, (and a stand alone novel).

This is probably one of the weirdest, most compelling books I’ve read in a long time.  I’m not sure how to describe it, or if I even liked it.  But the world Vandermeer created is unforgettable.  The story takes place in the ruins of the city of Ambergris after it has slowly been consumed by the invasion of a fungal species.  These “gray caps” have taken control, colonizing not only the streets and buildings with new fungal structures, but also the city’s human inhabitants.  Revolution smolders, despair blankets everything.  Our hero is John Finch, a Detective grudgingly working for the gray caps.  As he tries to solve a murder, he is drawn further into the conspiracies and mysteries surrounding the city’s past and future, as well as his own.  The complex threads of the plot didn’t ultimately cohere for me, but the world and characters were so fantastic that it really didn’t matter.

Okay, that’s three from me.  How about you?  What books have you read lately and loved?  Share!