Yzabel / July 28, 2014

Review: The Very Best of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Volume 2

The Very Best of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Volume 2The Very Best of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Volume 2 by Gordon Van Gelder

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Fantasy & Science Fiction continues to showcase some of the most famous authors writing in any genre. The magazine jumpstarted the careers of bestselling authors such as Roger Zelazny, Bruce Sterling, and Jane Yolen and continues to champion bold new crossover talents including Paolo Bacigalupi and Ken Liu.

Now drawing upon F&SF’s impressive history of classic and contemporary tales, this extraordinary companion anthology revisits and expands upon sixty-five years’ worth of top-notch fiction. These broad-ranging, award-winning tales appeal to readers of genre fiction and beyond, exploring alternate history, time travel, urban fantasy, virtual reality, modern myth, horror, interstellar travel, epic fantasy, mystery, and space opera.

Review:

(I got a copy of this book from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars for this collection of 27 stories, some of which are funny and grotesque, some others dark and disturbing.

Strangely, I didn’t feel that much of a connection with a lot of those. Maybe I’ve become picky after a few disappointing experiences with anthologies recently, or maybe I tend to expect more definite endings; I regularly got the feeling that this or that story was interesting (because of its theme and/or the questions it raised), but without going as far as I thought it should go, considering that I expected “the best”, yet felt I got “good only”. It’s definitely strange, indeed, since I wouldn’t say those texts are bad. Objectively, there’s a lot of creativity in here, lots of different concepts, lots of exploring, which all represent a variety of stages in the history of speculative fiction. Subjectively, they just didn’t touch me the way I thought they would.

My favourites:

* Maneki Neko: I really like the idea of a network linking people, everybody being a link in the large picture chain without knowing what it’s going to end in, but performing acts (of kindness, but also totally random sometimes) for strangers. It would almost seem of the conspiratorial kind… but it could also be seen as another way of living, with the awareness that whatever you do for others, someday a stranger will do something good for you as well.

* The People of Sand and Slag: An exploration in what being human entails, once technology/biotech have gone so far that human beings can regrow limbs, live on basically dirt if they need to, and have lost part of what make us who we currently are.

* The Paper Menagerie: Bittersweet and touching, a tale of magic and love gone misunderstood until it’s much too late for the protagonist to do anything about it.

* The Anything Box: An interesting reflection of people’s (especially children’s) ability to dream, and how this ability can be so easy to crush by other people who think they know so much better than you. After I read it, I was all the more determined to never let anything destroy my soul.

* The Prize of Peril: Probably not as original today as it was when it was first published, but as far as reality TV goes, it definitely felt “right”. The Good Samaritans, the people helping the protagonist, aren’t so good as willing to see danger pop up here and there for as long as possible. Very ambiguous.

Not so favourites, though still intriguing:

* The Bone Woman, as a tale of second chances and dreams given to those who’ve lost everything.

* The New York Times at Special Bargain Rates, for its blend of haunting longing and trying to fit into a new life.

* Winemaster: An exploration of microcosms on different scales, how they may be perceived, and where people would draw the line at, well, “people” and “not-people anymore.”

* The Aliens Who Knew, I Mean, Everything: Pretty amusing. I somehow expected the ending, yet it still made me chuckle no matter what.

* The Third Level: Here, too, I could somewhat sense the twist coming. However, it was one of those stories where it just doesn’t matter: you see it coming, you want it to come, and it’s really satisfying.

Overall, it is a pretty satisfying collection, and makes for an appropriate introduction to lots of different types of SF/F stories, especially for readers who’re not very familiar with what those genres at large have to offer. My “problem” with it is mostly personal, a matter of feeling, rather than of actual literary worth. Sometimes, it just happens…

Yzabel / July 23, 2014

Review: Tabula Rasa

Tabula RasaTabula Rasa by Kristen Lippert-Martin

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

The Bourne Identity meets Divergent in this action-packed debut thriller with a Katniss-esque heroine fighting to regain her memories and stay alive, set against a dystopian hospital background.

Sarah starts a crazy battle for her life within the walls of her hospital-turned-prison when a procedure to eliminate her memory goes awry and she starts to remember snatches of her past. Was she an urban terrorist or vigilante? Has the procedure been her salvation or her destruction?

The answers lie trapped within her mind. To access them, she’ll need the help of the teen computer hacker who’s trying to bring the hospital down for his own reasons, and a pill that’s blocked by an army of mercenary soldiers poised to eliminate her for good. If only she knew why . . .

Review:

(I got a copy through Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.)

Good idea and interesting beginning, but the second third kind of dragged in my opinion, and the ending was, well, wrapped up in a trope that made me really roll my eyes.

I liked the premise of PTSD victims being given a second chance (whether “true” victims or perpetrators) by having their memory removed—or at least, all the memories pertaining the trauma and/or crime. And in the beginning, nothing is certain as far as Sarah, the narrator, is concerned: was she so psychologically damaged and abused that she couldn’t function even with normal treatments? Or was she some hardboiled criminal, considering how despised she was by some of the hospital’s personnel? I thought the ambiguity was well-played here, because both reactions were present: nice doctors and nurses making small talk with her, while others would scowl and prevent her from having contact with other patients. Her skills, too, were ambiguous: they could be those of a burglar just as well as those of an acrobat, after all.

However, I found the pacing after that rather problematic, being a blend of action scenes interspersed with slow moments in which info was dumped and nothing really interesting happened. The mandatory YA romance subplot felt boring, too, and as is too often the case didn’t bring anything to the story. On the one hand, I get that it was part of Sarah’s development and return to her true self, something to make her feel like fighting and not give upt, but… on the other hand, does a person in such a situation really need some love interest to do that? Why did it have to be romance? One that sprang in a couple of days or so, no more. I don’t dislike romance plots; however, most of the time, they’re not really useful, and are of the marketing ploy kind, “because romance sells”, instead of being fully part of the story. Here, that was exactly my impression. Budding love? Sure. Full-blown romance with “I love you” and feelings that the person is/was The One, in less than 72 hours? Doesn’t work for me. In this type of setting, survival is key, and professing love just like that was kind of cheesy anyway.

Some of the plot points were fairly predictable, along with conveniently placed flashbacks and special snowflake syndrome (after a while). Add to this a few mind-boggling moments, such as soldiers not even taking someone’s pulse to see if that person’s indeed dead (huh?). Also, I didn’t like the ending—more specifically, the part where the Big Bad nicely explains what the plan was all about. I want explanations, of course, only I prefer them to be shown to me, not unveiled in a gloating villain speech. It’s been done too often for it to work, not to mention that the villain’s motives were… too basic.

On the bright side, somehow I still managed to like Sarah and Thomas. They had a “no bullshit” streak, in that they planned to get things done and acted on those plans, and didn’t mope around while being useless. I’m tired of heroines who don’t get anything done themselves, and Sarah was all but that. Which is why I’m leaning towards 1.5/2 stars here.

Yzabel / July 21, 2014

Review: We Are All Completely Fine

We Are All Completely FineWe Are All Completely Fine by Daryl Gregory

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Harrison is the Monster Detective, a storybook hero. Now he’s in his mid-thirties and spends most of his time not sleeping.

Stan became a minor celebrity after being partially eaten by cannibals. Barbara is haunted by the messages carved upon her bones. Greta may or may not be a mass-murdering arsonist. And for some reason, Martin never takes off his sunglasses.

Unsurprisingly, no one believes their horrific tales until they are sought out by psychotherapist Dr. Jan Sayer. What happens when these likely-insane outcasts join a support group? Together they must discover which monsters they face are within and which are lurking in plain sight.

Review:

(I got an ARC of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This was an intriguing and gripping novella, tackling a question that is probably seldom asked: what of the somewhat normal people in paranormal/supernatural stories, the ones who aren’t the powerful mage detective or powerful vampire or whatever, yet have also dealt with their share of anything-but-normal situations? What of those people’s psyche, can they ever go back to a semblance of normalcy, and how? In an attempt to reclaim their selves, five people gather around Dr. Jan Sayer to talk through their problems, some more reluctantly than others, gradually revealing what exactly happened to them, and how it left them scarred. Because no matter what befell them, whether true monsters or human cannibals or other deranged kinds of minds, it was just the right amount of too bizarre for them to find solace in traditional therapy, which basically ended up in a bunch of souls suffering without ever being able to truly express how… until the group started meeting, that is.

The world building rests on a lot of common themes, some well-known (Lovecraftian mythos—the town of Dunnmouth being obviously reminiscent of Innsmouth), some vague enough that they could be placed basically in any series, and all morbidly fascinating in their own ways. The family of human cannibals that fed off Stan’s and his friends’ bodies, for instance, is pretty close to typical stories of that kind (like the Sawney Bean clan). The Scrimshander could be a regular psychopath touched with a bit of sight… or something else altogether. Greta’s fiery little problem could be interpreted as a variety of spirits. As a result, I felt it allowed the story to fit a lot of potential settings, and gain a kind of legitimacy.

Though overall, I liked it a lot, I remain slightly frustrated. I wanted this book to be longer. I loved its premise, but I felt that it sometimes came short, and wasn’t exploited enough (especially when the doctor was concerned). The ending, too, left me somewhat dissatisfied, in that it seemed to leave the characters too close to where they started. In part, its outcome fits the bleak theme of the book as a whole, yet I couldn’t help but wonder if it went “far enough”.

A note about the style, quite atypical: a blend of first person plural (highlighting the sense of a collective, of a group) and third person. I thought it worked, but it could just as well detract from one’s enjoyment of the story. Be warned.

Nevertheless, I’d still recommend this novel no matter what.

Yzabel / July 20, 2014

Review: The Girl From The Well

The Girl from the WellThe Girl from the Well by Rin Chupeco

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

You may think me biased, being murdered myself. But my state of being has nothing to do with the curiosity toward my own species, if we can be called such. We do not go gentle, as your poet encourages, into that good night.

A dead girl walks the streets.

She hunts murderers. Child killers, much like the man who threw her body down a well three hundred years ago.

And when a strange boy bearing stranger tattoos moves into the neighborhood so, she discovers, does something else. And soon both will be drawn into the world of eerie doll rituals and dark Shinto exorcisms that will take them from American suburbia to the remote valleys and shrines of Aomori, Japan.

Because the boy has a terrifying secret – one that would just kill to get out.

The Girl from the Well is A YA Horror novel pitched as “Dexter” meets “The Grudge”, based on a well-loved Japanese ghost story.

Review:

(I got an ARC of this book through Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.)

Not so much “terribly scary” for me in the end, in that I don’t scare easily, yet fascinating nonetheless for its depiction of ghosts, the appearance they have after death, and the imagery it conjured. I could fairly easily picture Okiku, the murderers she targeted and got revenge on in place of the dead children, said children literally latched onto those men’s necks and linked to their limbs by spirituals cords… And the woman in black… well, all right, that one I’d definitely attempt to draw someday, although I’m not sure I could do her justice. I think the way the story was told, too, contributed to this: somewhat cold and detached, and special, because it’s a strange mix of omniscient and first person point of view (the story’s told by Okiku herself, who’s able to observe other characters and their reactions, and sense their thoughts and feelings). In any other story, it probably wouldn’t have worked for me; here, it did, because it seemed to fit with the ghost’s paradigm. I don’t know if other readers in general would like it, but as far as I’m concerned, it partook the fascination I had for this novel, through descriptions that were just the right length and just suggestive enough (all the more for the intended YA audience), without falling into the realm of “too much”.

The Girl From The Well is loosely based on a well-known Japanese legend, that of a servant girl who worked for a lord, and was tasked with keeping ten precious plates; she was tricked into believing she had lost one of them, and was put to death for her “carelessness”. As a result, she became a vengeful spirit who drove her former lord to death—and the number 9 sends her spirit into a frenzy. This was nicely reflected in the book, in that Okiku tends to count whatever she sees (people, items…), and the accursed number indeed makes her react violently. Forever detached from both human world and and elusive afterlife, she can only watch, in between enacting revenge throughout the world on people who’ve killed children, but were never punished for their bad deeds. The Smiling Man, especially, was of quite a scary persuasion—I find smiles way more frightening than other expressions whenever such characters are concerned.

However, this isn’t exactly Okiku’s story. Hers was already written, already told, and this is more a “what would happen some three hundred years later, how would such a vengeful spirit evolve with time.” Partly to her own surprise, she finds herself drawn to Tarquin, a boy with strange tattoos, and whose fate is doomed to be a dark one if what plagues him isn’t destroyed in time. (Note: there’s no romance involved—a very welcome element in my opinion. It would just’ve been weird and misplaced in such a story.) Odd things happen around Tark, his own mother has been locked in an institution and has tried to kill him several times, and he just doesn’t understand much to what’s happening. But other people slowly start to notice the presence that haunts him, those people being mostly Okiku and his cousin Callie, and it’s up to them to try and understand what his problem his, and how to solve it, which involves going back to his roots.

On the downside, I wasn’t too convinced by the characters in general, in that they seemed more driven by the plot than people with their own lives. Okiku’s involvement was also somewhat problematic, since she was mostly a watcher and didn’t act as much as I expected her to. I think I would’ve liked her nature as a vengeful spirit to show through more than it did; for instance, one of the vengeance scenes made me feel like it had been put there as some kind of reminder, and not really as part of the plot. There was also one huge blunder that could’ve been easily avoided if only one of the characters had spoken out loud about a specific event, yet didn’t for… no reason? I don’t mind characters making honest mistakes, but not when the latter are the product of unexplained reasoning.

Overall, I had a hard time putting this book down, and remained fascinated, though with hindsight, those aspects I mentioned prevented me from rating it higher. (3.5 stars)

Yzabel / July 7, 2014

Review: Tales of the Hidden World

Tales of the Hidden WorldTales of the Hidden World by Simon R. Green

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Seventeen delightfully unexpected stories from Simon R. Green–including a brand-new adventure of the Droods–take us deep into the Darkside, embroil us in the Secret Histories, and lead us into the shadowy places where monsters and demons roamWelcome to the worlds of Simon R. Green. In this wide-ranging collection, the “New York Times”-bestselling urban fantasist opens doors into hidden places: strange realms bordering our own mundane existence and prowled by creatures of fancy and nightmare. Here are the strange, frequently deadly–and sometimes even dead–things that lurk in garbage-strewn city alleyways and grimy subway stations after midnight, visible only to the most perceptive human or inhuman eye.In these tales, Green revisits the ingenious worlds within worlds that he created for his wildly popular novels. Take a stroll on the Darkside with a jaded street wizard, an underpaid government functionary responsible for keeping demons, vamps, and aliens in line. Enter the hidden recesses of Drood Hall, where the aging family member who creates powerful weapons that protect humankind recalls his long and bloody career. Join a squad of no-longer-human soldiers dispatched to combat the all-consuming jungle on a distant planet. Visit a house at the intesection of two realities that serves as a sanctuary from the evil of “all” worlds. Confront the unstoppable zombie army of General Kurtz in a brilliant homage to “Apocalypse Now.” And whatever you do, never forget that there “are” monsters out there. Really.Each story includes a new afterword by the author.

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I’m not quite sure what to make of this anthology. I only know Simon R. Green through his Hawk & Fisher series, of which I only read the first volume, so I applied for this one thinking it’d make a good introduction to his writing in general, but… I’m not so sure anymore. For instance, the first story, for instance, deals with the Armourer of the Drood family, and while I mostly got what it was about, it feels like not knowing the corresponding series is a slight problem. Or maybe it’s just me.

Also, I admit I skipped the second story (“Street Wizard”), because I had already read it a few weeks ago in another anthology.

Most of those stories were rather dark, which was all right with me, since I was in a mood to read about characters put in such situations. I guess mostly my problems with this anthology stemmed from the choice of stories, whose plots in general didn’t seem so thrilling, and whose twists were fairly predictable (“Dorothy Dreams”), or kind of flat (“Down and Out in Deadtown”). The last third of the book is made of older shorts dating back to the 70-80s, and they feel different, incomplete, somehow… unfinished? The last two in particular puzzled me: the prequel was printed after the “main” story, and it removed all suspense as to whether the characters would survive their adventure. I don’t really understand that choice.

I read Hawk & Fisher in French, not in English, so I can’t compare the author’s style here with that in his novels. When it comes to this specific collection, I thought it was heavy on the adverbs.

All in all, lots of good ideas, but not so well executed.

Yzabel / July 2, 2014

Review: Greene’s Calling

Greene's Calling (Seventeen, #3)Greene’s Calling by A.D. Starrling

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

An immortal healer.
An ancient legacy reborn.
A chain of cataclysmic events that threatens to change the fate of the world.

When a plane crashes in the Amazonian swamp where Conrad Greene is attempting to live out the rest of eternity, the jaded immortal who was once one of the Bastian First Council’s greatest assets stumbles across a conspiracy involving the recently elected president of the United States.

Caught in the middle of the intrigue is US Secret Service agent Laura Hartwell, the one immortal on Earth most likely to put a bullet through Greene’s skull.

Greene is coerced into returning to the life he had left behind by the leader of the Bastians and reluctantly agrees to assist the Americans in their investigation. As disturbing incidents start to unfold around the globe, Greene and a team of elite human and immortal agents must track down an elusive organization hell-bent on shifting the power balance of the world.

Can Greene stop the deadly countdown that threatens to alter the course of human history and regain the trust of the woman he loves?

Review:

(I got an e-copy of this novel through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This is the third book in this series (“Seventeen”) I read, and even though I haven’t rated those any higher than 3/3.5 stars so far, I must say they do all fall in the “I liked it” category: there are slight changes in the genre itself (man-hunt, artifact/ancient secrets, special services…), things sometimes go too fast for serious character development, but all things considered, whenever I want an action-packed story with guns, helicopters, wild chases and people with powers (immortals), these novels deliver.

Both merit and flaw here: each novel focuses on a different character. Merit, because it allows the author to put these people (immortals as well as their human allies) into situations for which they are more suited than others, and have a bigger picture slowly come together—something tells me there should be at least two more installments to this series. Flaw, because said characters can’t be explored as deeply as they would if they were the heroes of two, three, four books. Somehow, we get a glimpse and back-story elements, but there are times when I’d like to see more.

However, as I mentioned above, the “Seventeen” books are pretty good in terms of action, lively fights, and from what I know, believable research, if a little over-the-top now and then (I tend to like a bit of over-the-top, by the way). Picturing each scene is fairly easy, and I’m positive they’d also do great as movies. Hardened secret services agents, assasination attempts, political play on a worldwide level, antagonists that go back to older days, an investigation taking place in several European cities… Mostly those elements make for an entertaining read. Not something I’d discuss at length for a book club, sure, but then, this isn’t what I expect from such novels. I expect to be entertained and awed with good action scenes—and those I get.

One interesting thing: the kickass medic. I haven’t seen that kind of combination too often (a healer-type character who can also hold his/her own and doesn’t have to be protected by the others). All right, Conrad’s power is kind of unique, in that all the others who had it are now dead, from what I understood, but it ties into the red thread intrigue going on from novel to novel. I really hope there’ll be more about that in the next volume, about those immortals with a specific mark on their skin, and what their role is supposed to be (because there must be one, right?). Both Crovir and Bastian societies are somewhat tied into working with each other, and it sort of hints at a bigger threat looming in later.

There’s one side of the story I would’ve liked to see explored more, though: the consequences of so many heads of state being targeted. The characters realise what’s at stake, and do their best to prevent it, but I thought we didn’t get to see exactly how things played out for regular people. Did they care? What about the lockdown on airports? How did international diplomacy unfold? It was here, but somehow “in the background”, and it made the threat less… tangible.

This qualm put aside, it was a pleasant read. Not too deep, but definitely entertaining.

Yzabel / June 24, 2014

Review: Shield and Crocus

Shield and CrocusShield and Crocus by Michael R. Underwood

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

In a city built among the bones of a fallen giant, a small group of heroes looks to reclaim their home from the five criminal tyrants who control it.

The city of Audec-Hal sits among the bones of a Titan. For decades it has suffered under the dominance of five tyrants, all with their own agendas. Their infighting is nothing, though, compared to the mysterious “Spark-storms” that alternate between razing the land and bestowing the citizens with wild, unpredictable abilities. It was one of these storms that gave First Sentinel, leader of the revolutionaries known as the Shields of Audec-Hal, power to control the emotional connections between people—a power that cost him the love of his life.

Now, with nothing left to lose, First Sentinel and the Shields are the only resistance against the city’s overlords as they strive to free themselves from the clutches of evil. The only thing they have going for them is that the crime lords are fighting each other as well—that is, until the tyrants agree to a summit that will permanently divide the city and cement their rule of Audec-Hal.

It’s one thing to take a stand against oppression, but with the odds stacked against the Shields, it’s another thing to actually triumph.

Review:

(I got a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5* for an interesting read. Quite special at first: I must admit I was expecting more classical fantasy, yet this novel deals in fact more with superheroes in a fantasy world than with a typical “band of brothers” à la Robin Hood. So, with this in mind, it depends on the reader’s take on such stories: if superheroes aren’t your thing, getting into Shield and Crocus might be difficult. For instance, the characters have their normal identities and their heroes’ identities, which can be confusing in the beginning before you get used to Wonlar being also called First Sentinel, Rova being Sapphire, and so on. (Of course, I only noticed the presence of a glossary at the end after I had finished reading the novel. The beauty of ebooks on a Kindle app on a smartphone…)

The story’s set in an intriguing city by the name of Audec-Hal, a city that developed within the skeleton of a fallen Titan, twenty miles from head to toe. Its inhabitants live in his ribcage, along his legs and arms, streets are called “veins” as if they were still carrying his blood, and so on. Some fifty years ago, it was protected by the City Mother, a being whose power was however enslaved by a tyrant; since then, the faith and compassion bestowed on the inhabitants have turned to fear and servitude. The place is also regularly stormed by, well, literal storms (Spark-storms), possibly magical in origin, since they turn people and even buildings into strange things, mostly living. The lucky ones end up with couple of physical changes and/or a specific power; the others lose their humanity, so to speak—the people of Audec-Hal are humanoid in looks and behaviours, but their races aren’t called “human”. Six of them dwell in the city, all with their specific characteristics: the fast (and fast-aging Pronai); the Ikanollo, who can see the threads of emotions bonding people (oh the possibilities); the Freithin, created through alchemy to serve as slaves, empowered with empathy with their blood-kin; the Jalvai, who control stone; the Millrej, sharing features with animals (bear-kin, fox-kin…); and the eyeless, mouthless Qava, who feed on thoughts and communicate and feel through telepathy and telekinesy.

This may seem complicated, and it was in the beginning, but the novel’s detailed enough in its descriptions to make it clear after a couple of chapters. At least, I didn’t find it so complicated that I had to stop reading or check the glossary (as said, I didn’t even notice there was one). It was imaginative enough to my liking, and different from the usual elves-like, dwarves-like, and others-like species seen in fantasy in general.

In fact, the diversity is one of the reasons I liked this novel. Three of the six Shields are women, two of them are an item… and it just “is.” Not a major plot point, not a plot device, not a way of passing a message. I didn’t feel any judgemental attitude nor any preaching to the choir, which is pretty refreshing, and fits with my own take on people in general. (I consider people first as human beings, not as gendered beings. This is exactly how it felt here.) What mattered were those heroes’ strength, their ideas, their fight, their wishes for a better city for their fellow inhabitants. Species, gender, sexual orientation: those weren’t important, just background elements that happened to be, and didn’t take precedence on more intrisic, fundamental qualities.

The “super-hero fantasy” aspect beckons for an action-filled narrative (told mostly from First Sentinel’s, Sapphire’s and Aegis’s points of view); however, political undertones still permeate the story, in that five tyrants seized power decades ago, are keeping the city under their thumb, and are trying to gather for a summit that, if it succeeds, would make their stranglehold on Audec-Hal even stronger that before. They’re all vying for power, and are definitely not above striking alliances only to backstab their new allies at the first opportunity; on the other hand, the six Shields have to take their moves into consideration, anticipate, and as always in such cases, sometimes you’re victorious, and sometimes you get played. Consequently, although action and fights still make up two thirds of Shield and Crocus, the story’s a little more complex than “a group of heroes fight crime/one evil overlord”. This is something I tend to appreciate, especially since the Shields have to plan around, and are sometimes forced into moves that lead to loss of life (they can’t be everywhere to save the people who support them).

Speaking of the tyrants: the Smiling King. I so, so want to call this guy Hastur. Or the King in Yellow. Or something to that extent. I have no idea if it was the author’s intent, it’s just the way he resonated with me.

The writing was somewhat redundant. I didn’t have any problems when it came to picturing the city and the fights, but regularly, I found the style repetitive, probably because of names/nicknames that were dropped too often. (You can only read “First Sentinel” so many times in two paragraphs.) The book could’ve done with some tightening in that regard.

Another thing: the story didn’t leave that much room for character development, and I would’ve liked to see a little more of this as well. Mostly because of what revolution-related themes tend to involve: people dying. And their death usually impacts me more when I’ve gotten to know those characters first, not just see them in action. It’s not a big turn-off in this specific story, but it’s worth mentioning.

Although it seems like a standalone for now, the ending is open enough for a follow-up, so if there’s one, I’d gladly pick it. A few things were left wanting in my opinion—not enough to diminish my enjoyment of the story, just enough to make me wonder. Fahra’s existence, among other things, could pave the way to some interesting scenario about the Spark-storms. I’d also like to know more about the Titans, the storm’s origin, the world outside Audec-Hal. (As a microcosm, it works fairly well; only I tend to be curious about what’s outside “pocket-worlds” in general, so to speak.)

To be honest, I think this novel would shine more as a graphic novel/comics. Nevertheless, it wasn’t such an easy mix to come up with at first; it’s imaginative; and as it is, I still enjoyed it.

Yzabel / June 20, 2014

Review: The Bone Church

The Bone Church: A NovelThe Bone Church: A Novel by Victoria Dougherty

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

In the surreal and paranoid underworld of wartime Prague, fugitive lovers Felix Andel and Magdalena Ruza make some dubious alliances – with a mysterious Roman Catholic cardinal, a reckless sculptor intent on making a big political statement, and a gypsy with a risky sex life. As one by one their chances for fleeing the country collapse, the two join a plot to assassinate Hitler’s nefarious Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda, Josef Goebbels.

But the assassination attempt goes wildly wrong, propelling the lovers in separate directions.
Felix’s destiny is sealed at the Bone Church, a mystical pilgrimage site on the outskirts of Prague, while Magdalena is thrust even deeper into the bowels of a city that betrayed her and a homeland soon to be swallowed by the Soviets. As they emerge from the shadowy fog of World War II, and stagger into the foul haze of the Cold War, Felix and Magdalena must confront the past, and a dangerous, uncertain future.

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I wanted a change of pace with this book; I seldom read Cold War era fiction, which is definitely something I should remedy to. In a way, I got that, and something else, too.

The novel weaves two timelines, 1943-44 and 1956, that end up meeting each other, bringing loose threads together. The author always provided time and location, so keeping track of what happened when wasn’t too hard. I found the beginning of the story a little confusing, and still don’t know if it was because of the writing style, the changing timelines, or if it was just me; after a short while, things fell into place, and it was all right.

As for the historical context, I must admit I know next to nothing to Prague’s history, and I probably missed a few subtleties here when it came to the Infant of Prague and its importance in the plot. On the other hand, I had no problems piecing out those details, and I think the author provided enough information for me to enjoy it without having to stop reading, go learn a few things, and come back later.

Some scenes bordered on the “too much” at times; readers who don’t like that may be put off by those. For instance, Felix and Srut stealing a fire lorry to escape the Germans, then making their exit skating on the Vltava river. I quirked an eyebrow, while grinning at the same time. Part of me was “what the heck?”, and the other part went “nice one, guys!” It was a strange, somewhat elating feeling.

The atmosphere was permeated with a heavy sense of foreboding, with distrust, danger, suspicion, featuring potential traitors, unsuspected allies, and half-hatched plans thwarted at the last moment, always forcing the characters to get back on their feet, to react to the unexpected. However careful their plans, it was obvious they wouldn’t be able to go through them seamlessly, and this added to the paranoia and tension. Sometimes, too, surrealistic descriptions gave an extra edge to the action, especially when Felix was concerned: you never know at first if the people he sees are friends or enemies, real or only in his mind. It reinforced the feeling of something not right going on.

My main gripes with this story:

1) Some of the plot twists rested on characters that are seldom seen or, worse, appear once only. For instance, the nun, or the bishop, who’re mentioned once: when they do their particular deed. Such things don’t sit well with me in general. Here, they made the twists feel contrived, and I think the latter would’ve had more of an impact on me if said characters had been introduced beforehand, even in a couple of scenes only (like Andrea). As a result, those threads confused me, and threw me out of the story a few times.

2) Magdalena’s involvement, compared to Felix’s, felt like a secondary role. I would’ve enjoyed seeing more of her, more of the path she had to walk alone. She seemed to stand in the background, more spectator than actor, and this made her character less “real” in my eyes.

An interesting story all in all, but not exactly an easy read, and one that might have benefitted from a little more development when it came to some of the secondary characters.

Yzabel / June 18, 2014

Review: Reckoning

ReckoningReckoning by Kerry Wilkinson

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

In the village of Martindale, hundreds of miles north of the new English capital of Windsor, sixteen-year-old Silver Blackthorn takes the Reckoning. This coming-of- age test not only decides her place in society – Elite, Member, Inter or Trog – but also determines that Silver is to become an Offering for King Victor.

But these are uncertain times and no one really knows what happens to the teenagers who disappear into Windsor Castle. Is being an Offering the privilege everyone assumes it to be, or do the walls of the castle have something to hide?Trapped in a maze of ancient corridors, Silver finds herself in a warped world of suspicion where it is difficult to know who to trust and who to fear. The one thing Silver does know is that she must find a way out . . .

The heart-stopping first book in a new trilogy by UK author Kerry Wilkinson, Reckoning is the story of one girl’s determination to escape the whims of a cruel king, and what she must do to survive against all odds.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

2-2.5 stars. In itself, it was a decent enough read, only I couldn’t help but be reminded of many other dystopian YA stories… and after a while, those start to blend together. Among other things, it felt quite reminiscent of The Hunger Games  and similar stories, except that the people involved weren’t actively trying to kill each other, but were doing so in underhanded ways, notably being cowards and telling on others.

I was drawn towards this story because of its setting (post-war UK, or rather England/Wales—Scotland, well, nobody talks about Scotland, there must be something fishy with Scotland) and the promised mix of technology and mediaeval buildings/structures. However, such a mix is usually kind of hard to achieve, and I’m not sure it always worked here. The idea of a King totally fits the United Kingdom (much more than it would a US setting, for sure), and I think oppression resting on the ashes of a lasting civil war might be believable for a time. I can see people being so wary that they just want to close their eyes and ignore their current predicament, because at least they don’t have to fight anymore.

On the other hand, I’m not sure that “oil ran out” could be used as the sole justification behind wars on the world level; I keep wondering what else should’ve been involved to make the situation as desperate. Also, the class society in the novel didn’t really convince me: it remained too vague. What do Elites do, except being “the upper class”, with the Members and Inter being, let’s say, “upper-middle” and “lower-middle”, and the Trogs being the “working class”? It seemed to me that no matter their status, those people kind of did the same jobs: an Elite guy and a Trog girl both end up working in the kitchens, for instance, and this system seemed to clash with how the Offerings were assigned to their jobs depending on skills (Silver ends up in a technology-related environment, because she was picked a tech-savvy during her Reckoning, but whether she was a Member or a Trog didn’t seem to matter at this point). So in the end, I didn’t really understand the point. I suppose it would’ve made more sense if I had seen society as a whole depicted here, with non-Offerings going about their work. Whenever I saw some, those were people who hadn’t gone through the Reckoning (like Silver’s mother, or the Head Kingsmen, who were already there before Reckonings first took place). They were outside the new class system, so to speak, and it didn’t help me understand the latter.

Another problem was that I found a lot of things predictable. It might be just me, it might be due to similar stories I’ve read before, I don’t know. It was obvious from the beginning that the King was completely mad, to the point of killing Offerings on a whim, which sure explained why nobody ever heard of them again, hah. The “let’s try to escape” part was obvious as well, just like the romance part, and what actually happened to the families of those who didn’t keep a low profile.

Silver Blackthorn: let’s not dwell on that name; I still can’t stand it. I had mixed feelings about her. In some ways, she came off as a coward, but at the same time, this attitude was also clever: don’t get noticed, so that you live longer, and if you live longer, you have a chance of actually doing something. She limited her interactions with, and therefore her understanding of, other characters, who mostly remained bland and stereotypical. On the other hand, she also kept other people in mind: her family, Opie’s, as well as the other Offerings. She’s not planning a selfish escape just for herself and The Boy (OK, she does at first, and then she considers the bigger picture). I think what bothered me was that I would’ve expected her to do more tech-related stuff. Well, she does, but… in such a way that it’s only seen afterwards.

And here’s where I must touch upon something that really hindered the novel in my opinion: the first person point of view. There’s a moment when a big twist unfurls, and the reader is led to believe something, while something else altogether is brewing. However, I think that the first person narrative is problematic in such cases, because once the twist is revealed, the reader immediately thinks: “Hey, the character knew about it, so how come s/he withheld the information, both from me and from him/herself?” This is what happened here. Before that point, the narrative was all right. After it, I couldn’t get back into it anymore. For those who’ve already read the book: I’m talking, of course, about how we’re led to believe Imrin has betrayed Silver, but in fact this was all part of an act, and the other boys and girls were plotting in the background so that everybody could escape. Which Silver knew, yet deliberately “withheld” from herself, and therefore from me, reader. Tough there are a couple of hints here and there, they’re not enough. In any case, what followed was a recap of who did what, and then only Silver’s role was made more apparent… but by then, I felt cheated.

I would add to this a mild case of convenient chains of events, such as this or that character forgetting to lock a door on a regular basis. It didn’t sit so well with me when it came to a place where paranoia was a rule.

Bonus point, though, for the romance, in that:

1) It doesn’t dwell too much on a potential love triangle. This might come back in the next book, but for now, I’m going to ignore such a possibility, because I can and I want to.

2) The characters are attracted to each other while they do and think of other things. They mostly meet to find a way out, not merely to kiss and grope in the dark. The attraction comes later—and it doesn’t take too much space, contrary to what I’ve seen happen in too many other stories.

I somewhat enjoyed this novel; I’d probably have enjoyed it more if it didn’t feel and taste like many others in the same genre.

Yzabel / June 17, 2014

Review: Child of a Hidden Sea

Child of a Hidden SeaChild of a Hidden Sea by A.M. Dellamonica

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

One minute, twenty-four-year-old Sophie Hansa is in a San Francisco alley trying to save the life of the aunt she has never known. The next, she finds herself flung into the warm and salty waters of an unfamiliar world. Glowing moths fall to the waves around her, and the sleek bodies of unseen fish glide against her submerged ankles.

The world is Stormwrack, a series of island nations with a variety of cultures and economies—and a language different from any Sophie has heard.

Sophie doesn’t know it yet, but she has just stepped into the middle of a political firestorm, and a conspiracy that could destroy a world she has just discovered… her world, where everyone seems to know who she is, and where she is forbidden to stay.

But Sophie is stubborn, and smart, and refuses to be cast adrift by people who don’t know her and yet wish her gone. With the help of a sister she has never known, and a ship captain who would rather she had never arrived, she must navigate the shoals of the highly charged politics of Stormwrack, and win the right to decide for herself whether she stays in this wondrous world . . . or is doomed to exile.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

2.5 stars. This book gave me trouble, although I should’ve liked its setting and themes. When I had to put it down, and then wanted to pick it up again, geting back into the story was a little hard.

I quite liked the world of Stormwrack, which seems fairly rich and complex, full of political intricacies, bureaucracy antics, and red tape tactics. There’s a lot of potential in there, a potential that doubles up with the Fleet—a literal fleet of ships representing every nation, basically a federation existing on sea only, and acting as a central government of sorts. I don’t doubt readers who like stories with a lot of sea travel and exploration will enjoy this side of the novel. A lof of Stormwrack’s system rests on notions such as honour, giving one’s word, having one’s origin speak for their character; this is partly cliché (“the Sylvanners are thieves”, “the Tiladenes are promiscuous”), yet also leaves room for misinterpretation, culture clashes, and having to speak up for oneself, without resorting to family support.

My main problem lay with Sophie. I couldn’t warm up to this character, and thought her rather immature for a 24-year-old woman who’s had experience in “delicate” situations such as diving, which for me implies knowledge and responsibility. While this was part of her character development, I was constantly reminded of what I’m going to call her “tourist mentality”, and in the end, she was still going strong enough about it (obssessed with bringing back samples and pictures, etc.). She first ended up on Stormwrack after saving the life of Gale, a woman who had turned out to be her biological aunt, and that chain of events already hinted at a dangerous world. I could understand Sophie’s desire to go back there and learn more; I had less understanding for the way she did it, ignoring everyone’s recommendations, and involving her brother Bram in the muddle. It felt as if she just didn’t think, only considering the pretty shiny things in the sea, and never the bigger picture and the potential dangers she might put Bram in.

And this very attitude indeed put people in danger, and/or ruined lives. Granted, said people never really explained either how she was such a “threat” to them, not until it was too late, so I don’t blame Sophie for not getting it sooner. However, I do blame her for not thinking it through. For instance, when the bad guys threatened her with magic, demanding she retrieved an item for them, not once did she consider that they may get after other people if she didn’t move fast enough to their liking. Guess what? Someone got kidnapped, and put in harm’s way. The “I have your wife” trope is already tricky enough as it is, since it forces characters to make callous choices (let the loved one die, or let the rest of the world suffer), but when the character herself dive into it head-first, it’s even harder.

Moreover, Sophie had a meandering mind, and after a while, it became distracting (perhaps this was part of the reason why I could never get back into the story easily?). She’d be doing something important to free the aforementioned person, but thinking of the flora and fauna right in the middle of the “mission”. I don’t how it goes for other people; my own mind tend to wander a lot, too; but when something really important pops up, I focus on the task at hand. Maybe I shouldn’t expect characters to react like that, but… I can’t help it. If Mum gets kidnapped, who would be worrying about hiding wasp samples and whatnot inside their skirts? Not me. Similarly, in the beginning, Sophie goes about voicing out whatever goes through her head, when she’s in the middle of an unknown sea, trying not to drown with Gale. Her narrative voice was therefore a little troublesome, although I finally got used to it.

Another problem was how she managed to investigate. As a person thrown in a world whose geopolitical complexities she didn’t know, sometimes she did the math too quickly, more quickly than people who were born and raised on that world. This didn’t strike me as very logical, and made the other characters seem a little dumb. It felt as if they had been dumbed down for the protagonist to show how clever she was, instead of Sophie just being, well, smart. (The connections she made could’ve been made by Verena, who knows Earth technology, and would’ve been just as able, if not more, to connect the dots.)

World-building quibbles of mine:

1) The time travel aspect. It is heavily implied that Stormwrack is future!Earth, but I didn’t see the point. The story would’ve worked just as well if it had been a bona fide other world, and this left me wondering, only to close the book with no more answers about that in the end. Was it really important? Is there going to be a sequel, resting more on this specific matter?

2) The secrecy. Stormwrack people aren’t supposed to know about Erstwhile (Earth), but some of them had the portal magic/technology, and seemingly Gale was acting as courier between both worlds, which also implied that other people from Stormwrack lived in Erstwhile. Why? Who were they? If there’s a post service, it means there’s a need, so how many of them were there? Why the secrecy? As a reader, I don’t want to be told “it’s hush-hush business”: I want to know why it is.

On the other hand, bonus point for deconstructing “the Chosen One/Destroyer of Worlds” trope here.

All in all, an interesting setting, but one I would’ve liked more answers about, just I would’ve liked Sophie to be less of a “tourist”.

NB: ARC version, with a few errors that may be gone by the time the book hits the shelves. (Verena is called “Thorna” a couple of times: a remnant of a former version, or some subtlety I didn’t catch?)