NetGalley Archives - Page 31 of 48

Yzabel / July 24, 2015

Review: Abomination

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

He is England’s greatest knight, the man who saved the life of Alfred the Great and an entire kingdom from a Viking invasion. But when he is called back into service to combat a plague of monstrous beasts known as abominations, he meets a fate worse than death and is condemned to a life of anguish, solitude, and remorse.

She is a fierce young warrior, raised among an elite order of knights. Driven by a dark secret from her past, she defies her controlling father and sets out on a dangerous quest to do what none before her ever have—hunt down and kill an abomination, alone.

When a chance encounter sets these two against one another, an incredible twist of fate will lead them toward a salvation they never thought possible—and prove that the power of love, mercy, and forgiveness can shine a hopeful light even in history’s darkest age.

Review:

[I received an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A somewhat entertaining read with good ideas and a somber atmosphere, oozing despair, but also bits of hope at times. Unfortunately, I found it a bit too dry when it came to the characters and their actions, “telling” more than “showing” how they were, acted and felt.

The premise was interesting: a dark, dark age, with King Alfred trying to protect his kingdom against the invader, so full of despair that he ends up resorting to one man and the latter’s inhuman means of winning. Obviously, that sorcery turns sour, and the king has to send Wulfric, his best knight and friend, on the hunt for former Archbishop Aethelred and his army of abominations. My opinions on that part were mixed: I thought the hunt went on too quickly, somehow. On the other hand, it wasn’t the main focus of the story, or rather, it was only its first focus, so it’s a good thing that it didn’t take half the book either to be sorted.

The abominations, the sorcery that gave birth to them, were truly horrific, and I had no trouble picturing them, imagining the horror they must’ve been for the characters. These creatures had a sad side, too, being twisted without any possibility to fight back nor to revert to their original selves.
Historical accuracy wasn’t always this book’s forte. At times I could suspend my disbelief; at others, not at all (would anyone get rid of a dagger in a time where metal was quite precious, all the more with enemies being so close?). This happened when it came to language as well, with some names being really strange for that place and time (Indra…). As a story with action, it was alright, but let’s not too closely at the historical side here.

While the characters had to face challenges and trials that had some nicely ambiguous sides (Edgard’s motives were not pure, but neither were they completely evil), I didn’t really feel any connection with them. The revelations they had to come to terms with and the introspection needed from them seemed at times off-pace, at odds with other aspects of the story. I could also guess from the beginning what the twist about Indra would be, which was a bit disappointing: it couldn’t be kept a mystery from me, so when it was officially revealed, it just fell flat. (Indra herself was interesting, though, for the way she wanted to decide for herself, live the life she had chosen, not caring about whether being a woman would bar her from figthing, and also her decision to give a chance to the Beast.)

Conclusion: good ideas and vivid descriptions of the abominations, but not enough in terms of character strength to hold my attention.

Yzabel / July 22, 2015

Review: The House of Shattered Wings

The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette de Bodard

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

In the late Twentieth Century, the streets of Paris are lined with haunted ruins. The Great Magicians’ War left a trail of devastation in its wake. The Grand Magasins have been reduced to piles of debris, Notre-Dame is a burnt-out shell, and the Seine has turned black with ashes and rubble and the remnants of the spells that tore the city apart. But those that survived still retain their irrepressible appetite for novelty and distraction, and The Great Houses still vie for dominion over France’s once grand capital.

Once the most powerful and formidable, House Silverspires now lies in disarray. Its magic is ailing; its founder, Morningstar, has been missing for decades; and now something from the shadows stalks its people inside their very own walls.

Within the House, three very different people must come together: a naive but powerful Fallen angel; an alchemist with a self-destructive addiction; and a resentful young man wielding spells of unknown origin. They may be Silverspires’ salvation—or the architects of its last, irreversible fall. And if Silverspires falls, so may the city itself.

Review:

[I received an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

I liked the premise, I really did—not to mention that theme of the broken, rotting throne at night against the backdrop of a ruined Paris. There’s something both sick and magical to such a city. The Seine river blackened and polluted by magic turned sour, horrors lurking in its waters. Gangs scrapping remnants in order to survive, Fallen angels being their favourite preys, preys that end stripped up of blood and bone and basically everything, for the power those organs can bring. Houses full of mages, Fallens and their dependents, vying for domination, yet also teetering on the brink of destruction, for the last large-scale conflict among them ended up being the 1914 war, the Great War nobody nor any place in the world seems to have recovered even 60 years later…

Yes. Definitely enchanting, in a morbid way. I couldn’t help but be fascinated by this charred landscape, by the sheer hopelessness permeating eveything and everyone, despite the pseudo-grandeur some of the characters tried to keep as their facade. Descriptions here worked pretty well for me, making it easy to create this picture of Paris in my mind, all the more because I’ve walked those places, the parvis of Notre-Dame, the Halles, and so on. The atmosphere was somewhat old-fashioned, in that people in the story clung to a world long gone by (far away colonies entangled in the War, displays from fashion stores back when everything was still gilded…), and a lot of names were really traditional French names (Ninon, Madeleine, Isabelle, Philippe…). Although, as a native French speaker, it was also somewhat weird to see those names associated to English ones like Silverspires or Morningstar; that’s a matter of language on my part, though, and not any fault of the book.

And no romance. There was no room for that here. The only “links” were of blood and curses and magic and slavery of sorts. No “souls destined to be together”. The relationship between Philippe and Isabelle definitely wasn’t born under the brightest star, so to speak.

The reason why I’m not rating this novel higher is because… I wanted more. The mystery, the curse, those were intriguing, but the balance between unveiling them, developing the characters and showing the world around them was regularly a bit off. I would have wanted to see more interaction between Philippe, Isabelle and Madeleine; see more about how they evolved, or rather, could have evolved as people. I expected to see more of House politics, of the complex webbing of alliances and betrayal and various other ways of pecking at each other. More about Philippe’s origins and what his presence in Paris meant, more questioning about immortality and fallen angels, perhaps? At times, I felt that all that was more akin to beating around the bush, and that a while elapsed with nothing really happening, neither in terms of events nor of character growth. That while would’ve been the perfect place to inject… well, “more”.

I was also not too convinced by some of the secondary characters, more specifically Selene. I expected more cunning on her part, as someone who had been playing the game of House politics for decades. As a Head of House, she wasn’t “older” than Asmodeus, yet the latter and his schemes hooked me much more, seemed more ruthless and thus believable. I got it, nobody could have equalled Morningstar, but…

All in all, this is still an “I liked it” book. Just not the “I’m in awe” story I had hoped for.

Yzabel / July 15, 2015

Review: Dark Run

Dark Run by Mike Brooks

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

The Keiko is a ship of smugglers, soldiers of fortune and adventurers, travelling Earth’s colony planets searching for the next job. And nobody talks about their past.

But when a face from Captain Ichabod Drift’s former life send them on a run to Old Earth, all the rules change.

Trust will be broken, and blood will be spilled.

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

This was a nicely-paced and fun read, in the vein of space cowboys/pirates/smugglers branch of sci-fi. More plot- and ambiance- than character-driven, but what I wanted to read when I requested this book was a romp in space with action, blazing guns, spaceships, fishy cargoes, crazy pilots and mercenaries… and this is exactly what I got.

The crew members of the Keiko find themselves embroiled into a mission for someone they don’t know. Only Captain Drift knows, and he didn’t accept so willingly, as the one who made the offer was obviously not a friend. While the motto on the ship is “nobody asks about your past”, some pasts are harder to forget and hide than others, and when everything turns to quagmire—because it always does, it always must, in such stories—and old secrets start surfacing back, everything gets tenser and tenser. What is more important, in the end: getting mad at the captain… or getting even when it comes to the mysterious employer?

While I wrote that this novel wasn’t exactly character-driven, it’s not completely true. I’d have to say that the characters are more of archetypal varieties that fit well into such stories. Think à la Firefly. The smooth-talking captain whose skill with words makes him an asset just as much as it causes him trouble. The stone-faced sniper/gunwoman who picked quite a few extra skills in her past. The mercenary going where the money is, but also wondering if it wouldn’t be time to retire. The pilot bailed out of jail and now earning her keep by flying the ship through maneuvers so hard nobody else would try them. The ex-gang member trying to keep his temper in check after it destroyed his life. And so on.

On the one hand, it made them somewhat flat, in that they had too much to do to fully reveal a lot about themselves. On the other hand, interspersed within the various plot points were still bits of information about who they were and/or had done. Even Jenna’s past, which is barely brushed upon, held a couple of hints. It may or may not be interesting, depending on what one would expect; however, for the kind of story I wanted to read when I picked the book, these characters still worked well. I also quite liked that they all reacted differently to Drift’s secret being exposed, yet still considered the biggest picture.

The setting itself was fun as well: again, archetypal, yet in a good way, with shady stations on asteroids, as well as more exotic planets pitched against Old Earth and its European and US “blocks” and air space crammed full of shuttles. Mostly the places the characters had to go to had a “feeling” of their own, with a gritty side for some, and a more noble one for others.

I admit I still would have wanted to know more about the characters, and to get to see a little further than the epilogue, as the gambit the crew took was really dangerous, and could have been exposed at any moment. In that regard, events were maybe just a bit too convenient for them, even though Jenna’s skills as a hacker did help a lot in planting information where it was needed to minimise the risks. This may very well warrant a second story of its own, where the crew would have to deal with the aftermath.

But, all in all, this book was a fun read, and this is what I’ll remember of it.

3.5 to 4 stars.

Yzabel / July 12, 2015

Review: Darkness Brutal

Darkness Brutal by Rachel A. Marks

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Aidan O’Linn’s childhood ended the night he saw a demon kill his mother and mark his sister, Ava, with Darkness. Since then, every three years the demons have returned to try to claim her. Living in the gritty, forgotten corners of Los Angeles, Aidan has managed to protect his sister, but he knows that even his powers to fight demons and speak dead languages won’t keep her safe for much longer.

In desperation, Aidan seeks out the help of Sid, the enigmatic leader of a group of teens who run LA Paranormal, an Internet reality show that fights demons and ghosts. In their company, Aidan believes he’s finally found a haven for Ava. But when he meets Kara, a broken girl who can spin a hypnotic web of passionate energy, he awakens powers he didn’t know he had―and unleashes a new era of war between the forces of Light and the forces of Darkness.

With the fate of humanity in his hands, can Aidan keep the Darkness at bay and accept his brilliant, terrifying destiny?

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

The beginning of this novel was interesting and full of promises, combining Aidan and his sister Ava being targetted by demons to a mysterious man, Sid, gathering gifted youth with abilities to see and/or touch the supernatural. Yet a few things definitely rubbed me the wrong way after a while.

Aidan as a character was fairly enjoyable. He’s had a hard life, but doesn’t spend his time whining about it, instead doing what he can to ensure his little sister, at least, gets something better (not just a foster family: also avoiding the death of said family). He’s a decent person all around, the kind of guy who’ll help a girl in danger and not take advantage of her in any way, or who’ll recognise that someone alluring and sexy may not necessarily mean “I want to have sex with you”. He perceived the frailty within Rebecca and Kara, that what they were doing was not necessarily their choice or to their liking, and openly stated that he didn’t want Kara to do something she wasn’t convinced of, all the more after what she had been through.

Kara had a somewhat annoying, twitchy side—going from one reaction to the complete opposite. On the other hand, she also used what she had been dealt in order to try and make things better. Scarred and tough at the same time, in the spirit of survival and of refusing to let her former life crush her.

I still don’t know what to think about the “romance”. There was attraction and manipulation, and I didn’t really feel much chemistry, considering that one girl was basically attracted because of supernatural reasons, and the other… as well?

A more prominent issue for me was how the story suffered of regular cases of ain’t-telling-you-nothing-itis. It’s not the first nor the last time I notice that in novels. Sure, some information needs to be kept hidden, because disclosing everything at once is a) overwhelming and b) not really interesting. However, I don’t like it when it feels that the revealing of said information is artificially pushed back as far as possible in order to create confusion as a plot device. The “I’m not telling you in order to protect you” and “I’m keeping this secret, surely it won’t cause trouble for everyone later” kind. Aidan demanded information, while withdrawing important info of his own. Ava kept to herself and did things behind her brother’s back, instead of talking to him and maybe, just maybe, trying to find a third way to solve their issues. Sid was annoying as well in that regard, as he knew or at least suspected a lot of important stuff about Aidan, yet postponed its revealing, only to act later along the lines of “you have to listen to me because it’s absolutely crucial you act accordingly, wait, why don’t you want to listen to me now, is it maybe because you’ve become fed up with waiting?”

Granted, Aidan not wanting to tell the truth about Ava, nor about his reasons to bring her with him, was understandable. But other happenings could’ve been avoided if only the characters in general had been more open about some things. All those hidden agendas didn’t make for a good ground for budding trust, and in turn, it made things go the wrong way. A wrong way which was easy to foresee as a device.

I wasn’t sold either on the biblical/Babylonian/seers stuff. It seemed to pop out of nowhere, and not to be very well integrated within the general “mythology” of the urban fantasy world developed here. While reading, I had a feeling that its purpose was to make the usual angels/demons backdrop different, without really succeeding.

2.5 stars. Overall, there were good ideas in here, but all the beating around the bush was a little too much for me to stomach.

Yzabel / July 9, 2015

Review: The Mysterious Disappearance of the Reluctant Book Fairy

The Mysterious Disappearance of the Reluctant Book Fairy by Elizabeth George

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Janet Shore was born into a quiet life—the sickly, most easily overlooked daughter of a brood of eight boisterous children. But Jane’s tendency to fall ill and her natural penchant for devouring stories in her sickbed reveal a most extraordinary ability: the power to fully immerse herself in a book—in mind and soul if not in body. By tethering her wrist to a suitable anchor in the real world and with the recitation of several key words, Jane can spend hour after hour in whatever literary plot has stolen her fancy.

But such a power is an enticing thing, and that which tempts the desires of the masses is sure to bring overwhelming fame to its bearer. Where can someone so well known escape for peace and solitude?

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A delightful novelette about a woman with the power to send herself (or others) into scenes from books, complete with many references to many well-known works—although they aren’t always directly named. The beginning and ending tie in a somewhat grave way, but there are also plenty of semi-comedic moments in between, from the parts of the narrative focused on Janet to the ones involvie Monie. Not to mention Mildred, who was somewhat annoying, yet with good sides as well.

The story is too short to involve lots of progressive character development. However, it manages to deal with quite a few questions in little time, especially when it comes to Janet’s power and how it turns her life upside down. Of course, human nature is bound to ruin a lot of things. Of course, too, some people do manage to wake up, and realise that the dream has turned into a nightmare.

The various pot-shots at some books, at what “trash” is or isn’t, made me smile, as well as reflect upon the value we bring to literature in general. For instance, the only vampire story allowed in here is Bram Stoker’s, while romance also gets its share of “I refuse to send you in there, try this instead”. While I would mostly agree with such judgments on those books, it still makes one wonder. As Mildred puts it, one’s man trash is another’s treasure…

Somehow, I wish this had been longer. Nonetheless, this book was very pleasant and enjoyable to read. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / July 8, 2015

Review: Serafina and the Black Cloak

Serafina and the Black Cloak by Robert Beatty

My rating: [usr 4]

Blurb:

“Never go into the deep parts of the forest, for there are many dangers there, and they will ensnare your soul.”

Serafina has never had a reason to disobey her pa and venture beyond the grounds of the Biltmore estate.There’s plenty to explore in her grand home, although she must take care to never be seen. None of the rich folk upstairs know that Serafina exists; she and her pa, the estate’s maintenance man, have secretly lived in the basement for as long as Serafina can remember.

But when children at the estate start disappearing, only Serafina knows who the culprit is:a terrifying man in a black cloak who stalks Biltmore’s corridors at night. Following her own harrowing escape, Serafina risks everything by joining forces with Braeden Vanderbilt, the young nephew of the Biltmore’s owners. Braeden and Serafina must uncover the Man in the Black Cloak’s true identity before all of the children vanish one by one.

Serafina’s hunt leads her into the very forest that she has been taught to fear. There she discovers a forgotten legacy of magic, one that is bound to her own identity. In order to save the children of Biltmore, Serafina must seek the answers that will unlock the puzzle of her past.

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

I will confess to requesting this book mostly because of its cover, in a “oh this looks pretty” moment. I don’t regret it, for the story itself was fairly entertaining as well, and cute to boot.

Serafina lives with her father in the basement of a huge mansion, in the last years of the 19th century in the United States. There’s a slight steampunkish atmosphere to that mansion, as it’s crammed full to the brim of trinkets and machines to make those work, notably the dynamo Sera’s father is in charge of. There’s horror, in the shape of the Man with the Black Cloak, catching children at night and making them disappear within the folds of his costume. There’s magical realism, with the forest, its legends, its old cemetery with a statue of an angel, and a quaint atmosphere, full of gentlemen and ladies, of little girls in nice dresses and little boys with their faithful dog and horses companions. There’s mystery and a sense of adventure, for Serafina knows all the corridors and chimneys and tiny places in which to hide, and moves around unseen, able to spy on people and thus to discover pieces of the puzzle that no one else had.

While the setting might look a bit far-fetched, with its dozens or so or people always staying at Biltmore and its over-a-hundred rooms (although it was indeed a real house, historically speaking), I thought it worked very well for this kind of tale, providing a greater than life place from which it would be nevertheless difficult to escape—and so, of course, the characters had to face whatever awaited them. Surrounded with hills and a mysterious forest, the mansion wasn’t the kind of house you could leave just like that, as doing so implied potential dangerous encounters in the wilderness. The mysterious man on the prowl in the halls at night lent a feeling of foreboding to the story, effectively trapping the children in their rooms… and those who would be walking around at night were sure preys.

Sera’s and Braeden’s friendship was so very cute. Sera never had any friends, due to having to stay hidden. Braden felt at odds with other children, and was wary of striking new friendships after what happened to his family. Two kids, not teenagers yet, still innocent in many ways—the rat-catcher girl living at night, the boy who preferred dogs and horses to other people—getting to find each other, understand each other better, appreciate each other no matter their differences. It was quite refreshing.

Too bad that I had my suspicions about who Serafina and the Black Cloak really were, and had them too early: the hints were easy enough to decipher for me (including a certain encounter in the forest). It didn’t matter that much, though; the story remained nicely enchanting and eerie. Foreshadowing can, after all, also lead to knowing yet to still eagerly awaiting the actual events and reveals themselves.

(If anything else, I also wondered about some of the adults’ reactions, especially the Vanderbilts sending their nephew away; in the light of the other children’s disappearances, it was somewhat logical, but the timing was weird. Wouldn’t that have put him in more danger, having to go through the forest at night?)

Nevertheless, this novel will likely be enjoyable for a lot of younger readers… and not so young ones as well, all things considered.

Yzabel / July 6, 2015

Review: A Murder of Mages

A Murder of Mages by Marshall Ryan Maresca

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

A Murder of Mages marks the debut of Marshall Ryan Maresca’s novels of The Maradaine Constabulary, his second series set amid the bustling streets and crime-ridden districts of the exotic city called Maradaine. A Murder of Mages introduces us to this spellbinding port city as seen through the eyes of the people who strive to maintain law and order, the hardworking men and women of the Maradaine Constabulary.

Satrine Rainey—former street rat, ex-spy, mother of two, and wife to a Constabulary Inspector who lies on the edge of death, injured in the line of duty—has been forced to fake her way into the post of Constabulary Inspector to support her family.

Minox Welling is a brilliant, unorthodox Inspector and an Uncircled mage—almost a crime in itself. Nicknamed “the jinx” because of the misfortunes that seem to befall anyone around him, Minox has been partnered with Satrine because no one else will work with either of them.

Their first case together—the ritual murder of a Circled mage— sends Satrine back to the streets she grew up on and brings Minox face-to-face with mage politics he’s desperate to avoid. As the body count rises, Satrine and Minox must race to catch the killer before their own secrets are exposed and they, too, become targets.

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Pretty entertaining, in the vein of urban medieval fantasy I tend to favour (as opposed to more traditional “travel” fantasy). Gritty streets, characters with a past and forced to hide secrets that could be so easily exposed, family issues, corruption in the ranks, bureaucracy, a criminal to catch, seedy dealings going on at night on the docks and in warehouses… Yes, I definitely prefer my fantasy tinged with such themes.

I especially liked the main characters here. Each of them had their share to deal with, and couldn’t conveniently ignore what was going on in their daily lives. In fact, it was even the contrary of the “conveniently an orphan” trope: both Satrine and Minox have families. And they’re in their faces. Every day. Whether because they are so many members that you could lose count of them, or because the few left need to be taken care of in more than one way.

Satrine’s deception was motivated by the need to feed her family—her husband was heavily injured, unable to care for them anymore, and she had to deal with the fact that perhaps, just perhaps, it would’ve been easier on them all if he had died, as she would’ve been able to collect her widow’s pension and school her daughters. That would’ve been the easy way out. Instead, she remained fiercely loyal to him, still nurturing hopes thay someday, he’d slowly wake up and become who he used to be again. Should her forgery be forgiven? Perhaps, perhaps not. In any case, her motives were clearly born from love, and she still held her own and showed that the only fake thing in all this was a piece of paper: as a former Intelligence operative, she had the right set of mind, and the right skills, to earn her place among other inspectors.

Minox had his own issues to face. I guess his story wasn’t as fascinating as Satrine’s in that he didn’t have the same hurdles to face, in a line of work where women could expect to be lowly-paid clerks or only very slowly climbing the latter. However, there were other sides to his development that were interesting, and could go on being so. Being an untrained mage in a city where all trained (“Circled”) mages spat on him, for starters. People around him knowing what he was, fearing and despising it for him, or choosing to never talk about it. His ability as an inspector was real no matter what, with a black sheep aspect that set him aside, yet pushed him to work hard (cf. the numerous, somewhat freaky cold cases he considered as actually unsolved). One intriguing thing as well was how he somehow appeared as alone among a crowd, his family, due to his character and to his awkward position as a late-bloomer when it came to magic; in fact, he was probably closer to his somewhat crazy/obsessed/depressed/I’m not sure what cousin, with a history of madness running in the family, and the lingering, everlasting question: “Will he turn like our grandfather… and will *I* turn like that, too?”

And no romance! There’s no room for useless romance her, only solid partnership resting on cooperation, skills and mutual respect. It would’ve been so easy to throw in some silly feelings and/or sexual attraction. The author didn’t go that way, which I’m tremendously thankful for. Satrine and Minox have enough to worry about without adding that to the mix.

Maradaine seemed like a teeming place, bustling with various people, some very normal for such a setting, and others fairly quirky, like the mystery-meat pie seller, the street urchins turned bad mothers (or spies, like Satrine), or the butcher with a tendency to immediately throw “sticks” (policemen) out of his shop. All those people contributed to make the city look like a place filled with diversity. I would’ve liked to know more about the mages and their circles, though. I understand this series runs parallel to another one, so perhaps I’d need to read both to fully grasp that side of the world building? I thought there weren’t that many insights into the Circles’ politics, about what their potential feuds would involve (apart from obvious destruction), or about where exactly they stood when it came to the various powers and government type in Maradaine.

The novel also neatly ties up the main crime plot (a little too neatly, considering there weren’t that many clues for the reader to work with, so I didn’t have much to chew on in that regard), while leaving open other avenues for more stories. How Satrine will have to deal with the other inspectors and patrol(wo)men, and balance the dangers of her new job with her family’s needs. Minox’s need to deal with his magic ability, even though he’d like to ignore it. Corruption inside the Constabulary, possibly higher in the hierarchy. And what really did happen to Loren Rainey? Was it an investigation gone wrong, or something shadier? I can forgive the somewhat weak mystery, as long as those get more limelight later.

This is a series whose second installment I’m definitely willing to pick.

Yzabel / July 4, 2015

Review: City

City by Clifford D. Simak

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Intelligent canines in a far-future city preserve the legends and lore of their absent human masters.

Thousands of years have passed since humankind abandoned the city—first for the countryside, then for the stars, and ultimately for oblivion—leaving their most loyal animal companions alone on Earth. Granted the power of speech centuries earlier by the revered Bruce Webster, the intelligent, pacifist dogs are the last keepers of human history, raising their pups with bedtime stories, passed down through generations, of the lost “websters” who gave them so much but will never return. With the aid of Jenkins, an ageless service robot, the dogs live in a world of harmony and peace. But they now face serious threats from their own and other dimensions, perhaps the most dangerous of all being the reawakened remnants of a warlike race called “Man.”

In the Golden Age of Asimov and Heinlein, Clifford D. Simak’s writing blazed as brightly as anyone’s in the science fiction firmament. Winner of the International Fantasy Award, City is a magnificent literary metropolis filled with an astonishing array of interlinked stories and structures—at once dystopian, transcendent, compassionate, and visionary.

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A hard one to rate, for sure. 3.5 stars?

On the one hand, it’s one of the classics of “old science fiction” I’ve always wanted to read—I only recently linked its English title to the French one. And, like many stories written several decades ago, it retains a quaint charm. Science that was prominent in minds at the time (atomic power…). Themes of a better world, of Man evolving into better beings, renouncing the old ways of killing, even of living in cities. Openings towards strange, new dimensions, even though reaching for those would involve a complete change of perception. But also sadness: the end of a world, of several worlds, humanity devolving into solitary creatures, then nothing, leaving Earth into the “hands” or dogs and robots. A sort of paradise, untainted by the concepts haunting human beings… yet here, too, a solitary one, for while the dogs developed their own society, they, too, were haunted by the idea of Man, kept alive by Jenkins, the faithful robot who served the Webster family.

On the other hand, I have to admit that a lot of those were painfully outdated for a 21st-century person. I’d probably have appreciated these stories more if I had read them when I was much younger—in other words, especially when it came to all those “atomic” thingies, back when I still had recollections (although heavily filtered through my child’s eyes) of Chernobyl, and a vague fear of the Cold War. I would’ve missed other themes, for sure, but maybe some of the “scientific” ones wouldn’t have struck me as so wobbly. Granted, this was unavoidable; a lot of SF classics would suffer the same fate. It did bother me to an extent, and that was really too bad.

The biological side of science here didn’t make much sense either: mutants; people turning themselves into creatures adapted to life on Jupiter; ants developing a kind of clockwork/steam power; dogs being given words and voice while still forced to rely on robots for want of hands (why would surgery on vocal chords translate into heavy genetic changes in just a few generations?). And generally speaking, the Earth described in “City” was just too big, too empty, to justify the maintainenance of robots as a whole (no factories were mentioned, for instance), with the passage of thousands of years emphasising the “how did they manage to last for so long?” question.

And yet, I cannot deny these stories, as well as the way they are linked, a certain power. Not in the writing itself, not in the obsolete or weird science, but in how they conveyed strong feelings. The despair of one man, whose fears doomed humanity to lose an important philosophical theory that could’ve changed the world forever. The end of a city, abandoned by people who preferred to live in the country, an echo of the suburbian dream. Men left behind and choosing to dive into endless sleep in the last surviving city, forever enclosed within countermeasures long forgotten, for there was no point to staying awake anymore and kill their boredom with hobbies become meaningless. Robots performing tasks even after their owners had died and gone. Dogs keeping a promise, passed down from a long-dead ancestor, a promise the meaning of which had been somewhat lost. Man, both the god-creator and a legend in which dogs only half believed.

It *is* definitely strange, for the human characters were not particularly striking. I guess the book managed to tell what it had to tell through other means, among which the dogs and Jenkins?

So I could not wrap my mind around the nonsensical science… but the feelings were here, and kept coming back at me, along with reflections on what it means to be human, on what humans could d/evolve into. And although this wasn’t my favourite read of the year, it will stay with me for some time no matter what, and I would still recommend it.

Yzabel / July 2, 2015

Review: Black-Eyed Susans

Black-Eyed Susans by Julia Heaberlin

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

A girl’s memory lost in a field of wildflowers.
A killer still spreading seeds.

At seventeen, Tessa became famous for being the only surviving victim of a vicious serial killer. Her testimony put him on death row. Decades later, a mother herself, she receives a message from a monster who should be in prison. Now, as the execution date rapidly approaches, Tessa is forced to confront a chilling possibility: Did she help convict the wrong man?

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

4 stars. This is the first time I read anything by this author, and I admit that when I picked it among my ever-growing pile of ARCs to read, I didn’t even really remember what it was about. Which was probably for the best, as comparisons with other authors (such as often seen in blurbs) sometimes affect me in a negative way. You know, the “this is the next X”, or “X meets Y in this breathtaking novel.” So I was able, for once, to approach a story without remembering that. And it was good.

The novel deals with Tessa, the victim of a serial-killer, who survived and managed to send her would-be murderer to jail, where he’s waiting for the death penalty to be applied. Years later, now a mother with a bubbly, cheerful daughter of her own—a daughter who’s as carefree as the pre-killer Tessa—she is still haunted by those memories, or rather by the lack thereof: no matter what, she still can’t remember everything from her ordeal, and what she remembers of it may or may not be the truth. Moreover, Tessa’s starting to have second-thoughts: what if the man about to die was an innocent, and the real psychopath still out there?

“Black-Eyed Susans” deals with several interesting themes: psychologic and physical trauma (Tessa after the “event”), lies (what was told and untold when it came to the trial), forgiveness (the man on death row), fear (being potentially stalked by the actual killer, or even seeing him target the daughter)… There are very likeable characters, like Charlie, and others who sow constant doubts as to their loyalty and real intentions. There came a moment when it was difficult to tell what was only in Tessa’s mind, what was triggered by other people’s delusions, and what may have been actual happenings—although I still managed to narrow down my suspicions regarding to the killer to two, then one person relatively soon.

This book also has two things I really like: an unreliable narrator, and a narrative switching from present to past to present again. While the latter can be a deal-breaker for some readers, I personally like that technique. It made it tricky to determine where were the turning points, while at the same time giving hints. Some of those were just a tad bit heavy-handed, but… Overall I liked the story overall no matter what.

Yzabel / June 30, 2015

Review: The Red Mohawk

The Red Mohawk by Anonymous

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Everything seems peaceful in the small town of B Movie Hell until a mysterious serial killer in a skull mask topped with a red mohawk shows up and starts butchering the locals. Government agents Jack Munson and Milena Fonseca are sent to track down and eliminate the masked psychopath. But as they soon discover, the residents of B Movie Hell don’t want their help. This is a town like no other, and the locals have many dark secrets….

Already a hit in France and Germany with film rights optioned by Tobey Maguire’s Material Pictures, The Red Mohawk is a fun, outrageous and bloody thriller full of cinematic references and homages to many cult movies.

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

An entertaining novel, one that follows closely in the footsteps of a (bad) slasher movie, indeed—so I would advise to read it as a parody, and not take it too seriously, even though it deals with a serial killer and, well, plenty of dead people. It’s full of references to 70s and 80s movies and music, of tropes constantly played upon (the FBI agent with a bottle problem, the small town setting with its lot of people all knowing *something*, the serial killer escaped from an asylum…), and there’s no doubt that this could be easily turned into a movie as well, since its format is basically the same.

There’s lots of humour, lots of gore as well, and action of the cheesy type, that made me snicker on a regular basis. The characters are mostly stereotypes, obviously, but at least everybody gets their share of it: even though at first, I thought “my, the women are all underdogs here”, the guys don’t fare better, and end up the same way. The asylum part was definitely funny in a sort of gross way, as doubt was sown as to who was actually running it, and a certain FBI agent decided to show an inmate who was the boss. It’s… special, but it still made me laugh.

There *is* a plot, too, in spite of the apparent whatever-goes road the story takes at first. It’s not just random killing here and there. The Red Mohawk does have a plan and an objective, and let’s say there’s method to his madness.

An issue for me—which may have been an issue with my copy, but is perhaps still in the published book—was the half-done editing. I noticed too many mistakes and typos (affect instead of effect, grammar mistakes, repetitive expressions) that kept pulling me out of the story. While I enjoyed the latter, the writing style itself wasn’t that great. Also, the story seemed to peter out a little by the end, as if it was being rushed to its conclusion.

Nevertheless, in spite of the issues in style and editing, this novel provided me with a hefty dose of fun. 3.5 stars out of 5.