NetGalley Archives - Page 41 of 47

Yzabel / July 13, 2014

Review: The Steampunk Trilogy

The Steampunk Trilogy by Paul Di Filippo

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

An outrageous trio of novellas that bizarrely and brilliantly twists the Victorian era out of shape, by a master of steampunk alternate history

Welcome to the world of steampunk, a nineteenth century outrageously reconfigured through weird science. With his magnificent trilogy, acclaimed author Paul Di Filippo demonstrates how this unique subgenre of science fiction is done to perfection—reinventing a mannered age of corsets and industrial revolution with odd technologies born of a truly twisted imagination.

In “Victoria,” the inexplicable disappearance of the British monarch-to-be prompts a scientist to place a human-lizard hybrid clone on the throne during the search for the missing royal. But the doppelgänger queen comes with a most troubling flaw: an insatiable sexual appetite. The somewhat Lovecraftian “Hottentots” chronicles the very unusual adventure of Swiss naturalist and confirmed bigot Louis Agassiz as his determined search for a rather grisly fetish plunges him into a world of black magic and monsters. Finally, in “Walt and Emily,” the hitherto secret and quite steamy love affair between Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman is revealed in all its sensuous glory—as are their subsequent interdimensional travels aboard a singular ship that transcends the boundaries of time and reality.

Review:

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

A strange read, not totally devoid of interest, but that didn’t do much for me, probably in part because its title is definitely misleading when it comes to “steampunk” as a genre, and isn’t representative of what it entails. It’s more Victoriana with a dash of paranormal and alternate history, and references to existing personae (poets, scientists…) and literary works (not always exact—Nana isn’t Balzac’s work, but Zola’s). This book’s title was seemingly what coined the term “steampunk”, though there’s not a whiff of “steam” in there. Sometimes the mind boggles.

As a whole, sometimes it was accurate enough in its depiction of 19th century society, and sometimes it just didn’t work at all.

“Victoria” was amusing enough, if you appreciate a somewhat rompish humour. But its ending was highly unbelievable and improbable, considering the person involved. I just don’t see how anyone in circles of power would consider that a good idea, certainly not in British politics.

“Hottentots” I found mostly boring and disjointed, with no real sense of a plot. I kept reading it because it made fun of Agassiz, and nothing else—the humour helps defuse his racist thoughts and jingoism, which otherwise are pretty cringeworthy and hard to stand. Also, Cesar’s transcribed accent distracted me and threw me out of the story’s flow basically every time he opened his mouth). While there’s a wide variety of accents in languages, such transcriptions in literature are seldom well-done, and too quickly fall in the “too much” category. Not a good idea here, and clearly the story I liked the least (oh, scratch that: I didn’t like it at all). I’d say its only interest was in the satire department.

“Walt and Emily” was more interesting to me, because I know their poetry well enough, could find my marks there, and the planned trip to the Summerland felt at least like there was some plot there, one that fit with the two poets’ works. Style-wise, it was also the most lyrical, and I quite liked this. Unfortunately, it couldn’t really make up for the rest of the book.

1.5 stars.

Yzabel / July 7, 2014

Review: Tales of the Hidden World

Tales 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 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 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 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

Reckoning 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 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?)

Yzabel / June 13, 2014

Review: Crushed (Soul Eaters 2)

Crushed by Eliza Crewe

My rating: [rating=5]

Summary:

Meda Melange has officially hung up her monstrous mantle and planted her feet firmly on the holy and righteous path of a Crusader-in-training. Or, at least, she’s willing to give it a shot. It helps that the Crusaders are the only thing standing between her and the demon hordes who want her dead.

The problem is, the only people less convinced than Meda of her new-found role as Good Girl are the very Crusaders she’s trying to join. So when a devilishly handsome half-demon boy offers escape, how’s a girl supposed to say “no?”

After all, everyone knows a good girl’s greatest weakness is a bad boy.

Review:

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

4.5 stars, rounded to 5 because this book did something other books seldom do: eliciting feelings in me.

You see, I’m a cold-hearted person. Not as in cruel and mean, but as in, someone who very seldom cries, who’s seldom moved by emotional scenes, and so on. The few things that make me reach such a state aren’t the usual kind of triggers; I don’t shed tears over characters dying, romantic scenes, happy-ever-after moments. In fact, it’s so random I couldn’t even explain what may or may not trigger a reaction, whatever reaction, in me.

Meda’s voice does. I don’t know how, I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s her acceptance that she’s bad, that something in her is utterly rotten (she’s half-demon, after all). Perhaps it’s the fact she doesn’t delude herself when it comes to being liked by others, or to the guy she may or may not fall in love with. Perhaps it’s how she feels she tries hard, but realises in the end that she should also have tried to understand others. She’s not perfect, she knows it, she’s not trying to be—just being “good enough” would already be a great step, but can someone who needs to ear souls ever be “good enough”? Her eating the souls of bad guys only could seem a rationalisation… or simply a fact: when the only other solution is starving yourself, how many of us would actually be “good enough” to do that? So she goes after bad guys—psychopathic killers, child molesters—and eat their souls, because it’s the least of two evils, yet while she jokes about being a super heroine, going about vigilante business, she still acknowledges that she’s part monster, and will always be.

She’s not perfect. She makes mistakes. She misunderstands people, people misunderstand her. But she learns. She accepts facts in the end, seeing them for what they were, for something she failed to notice. She owns up to her mistakes, tries to correct them, takes responsibility for her actions. And she’s also angry and frustrated, so much that I could feel her anger poring through the pages. I especially liked that contrary to a lot of teens in YA fiction, her reasons were both selfish (it was about “me, me, me” at first, in that she saw things from her side of the barrier only) and understandable: the bullying, people automatically disliking her at school because she’s a half-demon, the adults seemingly turning a blind eye on it, humiliating punishments that only furthered the bullying… She was under scrutiny because of her nature, but it felt as if she was expected to do better than any other “good” person in the world, while being set up for failure. (I don’t know, but if someone’s half-demon, expecting them to be Mother Teresa is kind of asking for them to fail, isn’t it?) Meda was self-centered and didn’t understand Jo’s attempts at warning her, at protecting her; however, I think a lot of people would’ve felt the same in her situation. And later, when she discovers the true reasons behind what happened, she accepts them, accepts that she has to understand.

Meda’s friendship with Jo: another beautiful thing in this story. They both have their own very special personalities, they’ve been through fire together, they don’t entirely trust each other, and paradoxically, the latter grounds their relationship into something deeper, stronger, because it holds one important promise: the day real trust is born, is the day their friendship knows no bounds. In the meantime, they’re kidn of circling each other, watching each other. It’s not a girly kind of friendship. They don’t bond over boys, over one common interest that may or may not last. But it runs deep, to the point of self-sacrifice… not only on Jo’s part (knowing her character, that must’ve been one hard thing to do for Jo, by the way).

And when a half-demon is led to self-sacrifice, this also tells you something about her, about whether her nature binds her so much, whether Armand is right in telling her Hell is the only place for her… or not. Meda knowing she’s a monster, and not refuting it, Meda teetering on the brink of that one important decision (join the demons or remain faithful to the Crusaders, even though they want her dead), are, in my opinion, what could make her achieve her own “goodness”: not a saintly one, but one that defies her origins.

Love interest: there is one, but not too much. Here, we don’t go through the “redeem the bad boy” trope, or starry-eyed love. While Meda and Armand are clearly attracted to each other, they also know that sooner or later, they may stand on different sides. Meda is aware she may have to kill him someday; indeed, no delusions here, and no glorious promises of Love Eternal either. They both hang out together for their own selfish reasons, they both say it openly, they both accept it in each other. It’s a really nice break from the usual teen romance I see in YA books nowadays.

Also, they kill. They go through with their murders, they don’t bail out at the last moment. Another nice break from all the “assassins who fail to kill” stories.

The Crusaders: horrible in many ways, justified in others. What they did to Meda, refusing to give her a say when it was time to test one specific kind of magic on her, was shocking; however, when Meda had a choice, the person who seemed so bad, so cruel at first turned out to be pretty decent—and he wasn’t the only one. It’s never sp black and white with them as you think it is.

The one qualm I have with this book is that it felt slow in the beginning, especially compared to the first novel in the series. Meda’s voice and what I could sense between the lines prevented this from being too much of a problem, but I was still glad when the pace picked up.

Yzabel / June 9, 2014

Review: Glitch

Glitch by Brenda Pandos

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

When a mysterious guy from the zombie zone sneaks an illegal slip of paper to a beautiful young girl from Brighton, she must decide if she should turn him in or follow what the note says in the first book of the Brighton Zombies Series, Glitch.

Eighteen-year-old Abigail has no trouble following Brighton’s rules. For one, she’s OCD about checking her Date of Death clock latched to her wrist, making sure her decisions never shorten her timeline, and two, she enjoys the peace Brighton has to offer. In no way would she bring on another attack that destroyed earth’s inhabitants like her predecessors did from their selfishness and greed. But when her best friend returns from her Advice Meeting–a glimpse into the future–shell shocked and won’t tell Abby what’s happened, she’s worried what awaits her. The stranger with blue-eyes knows something, but does Abby dare enter the zombie zone to get answers? Or is she doomed to live the life set for her?

Review:

(I received this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

It took me some time to get and remain in the story, and I have to admit that in the end, well, I didn’t like it. There were good ideas, and it started off as promising; however, after a while, everything became so disjointed that I wasn’t sure anymore what I was reading, and the abrupt ending/cliffhanger just left me “wait, whut?”.

The first thing I couldn’t wrap my mind around was the world itself. It contains lots of elements, and seems quite rich in terms of background to exploit, but the way it was introduced didn’t make much sense to me. We have zombies who may or may not exist; Sasquatches (half-human, half-animal?) whose origin is definitely unclear; and what I’m going to call a “pocket universe”, a.k.a. Brighton, without any information about the rest of the world. I admit I wouldn’t have been bothered so much if I had read this book some 3 years ago, but after so many dystopian stories revolving about the same theme, I can’t help now but always wonder: “Is this community the only one? What about others? Don’t they communicate? Do people really believe all that, and never question anything, even privately, in their own thoughts?” The Oracle part was also problematic: she’s introduced around the 25% mark, as something everybody seems to know (at least, the way Abby mentions her), but I can’t remember her existence being mentioned sooner, and this felt weird. Also, this:

“The EA wanted to purge blue eyes from future generations, saying they had a proclivity to disease and illness.”

Why? This begged for an explanation, and we never got it. This looks like a really important element, so important that the EA goes to such lengths as to, well, spay people who might give birth to children with blue eyes. Why? Are blue eyes linked to some special power? Is some blue-eyed person born in the future, so they’re trying to prevent his/her birth by removing blue eyes from the gene pool altogether? As it is, it just didn’t make sense.

Some pacing problems, too. The beginning was interesting. The middle lacked in excitement (discover people outside, travel to camp, life at camp). The third part contained many time-jumps, and those were terribly confusing. I’d like to chalk said confusion to my being tired, but I’m really not sure about that. I get there are different timelines, and that there’s a key moment in the past from which various futures are determined… or was the key moment sometime in the future, with a cure being found for something that happened in the present, yet it had to be brought to the past for the present to be “normal” again? The way things happened in that regard were, again, very confusing, and that part of the plot kept contradicting itself. I still have no idea how the person able to jump in time did it (claiming “I have no control”, yet always conveniently arriving at the exact moment they aimed for?), nor how her powers suddenly came out, nor how she managed to sort through all those timelines. She seemed to learn that in a snap of fingers, when it’s probably something anyone would need at least days of training to master—if only in their mind.

I didn’t really like any of the characters. Abby: has every male character pining after her, and of course she can’t decide (it’s insta-love but it isn’t, no, wait, it is); whiny, needy, then turning badass out of nowhere. Kaden: stop being the broody loner and TALK, because I tell you, this clears up misunderstandings in record time. Memphis: any person calling another “Sugar” from the beginning (or “babe”, “baby”, or whatever other “cutesy” name) makes me cringe—and the testosterone contest regarding who gets the girl gets tiring, pretty fast: I felt like smacking him every time he made moves such as sliding his arm around Abby’s waist in a possessive gesture. The community: girls are at the camp, doing laundry and cooking and washing the dishes, because everyone knows they can’t have any useful skills like hunting or patrolling, nor can any guy cook a meal. Decisions: everybody seems to act on a whim, sometimes out of character, and a lot of problems could have been avoided if they had just initiated basic communication, instead of puffing chests and trying to prove how manly they were. Reader not impressed here.

On the writing side: a couple of proofing problems (Complement/Compliment), that got corrected after a while, but were still annoying. Maybe they’re not in the printed copy anymore, though.

Although the next book is bound to hold answers, after such a cliffhanger, I’m not interested enough to pick it.

Yzabel / June 8, 2014

Review: The Lost

The Lost by Sarah Beth Durst

My rating: [rating=3]

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

I tend to have a strong liking to such stories: mysterious little towns hiding all sorts of secrets; characters lost in them and trying to find their way, only to find out that something dark is lurking behind; and so on. I must say I was enthralled by the atmosphere in “The Lost”. The aforementioned small town felt creepy as hell, and its inhabitants’ reactions didn’t do anything to shake off that feeling, for sure. The mob that thinks Lauren is responsible for their new woes. The underlying desire to make her run away from the town, with the intent of resorting to more if this doesn’t work. Women planting dead flowers; characters going from cheerful and welcoming to crazy and threatening; a kid in a faded princess dress, cuteness all over her, a teddy bear under her arm, and a knife in her hand; the mysterious tenant of room 12 (will we ever know who he was?). Roads that lead to nowhere, or rather, always lead back to the same place. The desert and dust stormes encroaching more and more on Lost, giving a sense of mortality to a place that at first appears to be eternal. There’s something fascinating in such people and surroundings in my eyes, and I can never get tired of those.

As far as characters go, I especially liked Peter and Claire. Peter’s quotes weren’t innocent, and his antics could never completely hide the fact he was tired of his duties, and probably going half-crazy (if this fate of his wasn’t already achieved). Claire was both frightening and cute, a little girl wandering a decaying place in search for the family she had lost.

Other, more secondary characters’ stories also lent themselves to speculation. Considering what happened to Tiffany, did something similar happen to Victoria? Even when they realise what they’ve lost, can those people really come back to their older lives, or will the latter make them feel just as much at a loss in the end?

The novel also left me with theories that, though never debunked of confirmed, are however strongly hinted at. The ties between Lauren and the Missing Man, for instance. The lie Lauren cooked about his daughter might hit closer to home than she thinks…

However, I didn’t love this novel. I enjoyed reading it, and… that was all. I think I can chalk this off to three things:

1) The writing. For starters, first person present tense does it less and less for me, after having read so many books that use such narratives, and here, I really don’t think it fit that much, probably because of the “tense + short sentences” combination. Sometimes, it worked, but when descriptions were involved, it threw me out of my little bubble of creepy atmosphere:

I step over a soiled sweatshirt. There’s a wallet lying on the curb. I pick it up and flip it open to see a driver’s license and an array of credit cards. I’ll hand it in at the lobby.

I’m not asking for long, convoluted sentences; but while I got used to those after a while, it wasn’t enough for me to deem them enjoyable.

2) Lauren, in some ways. I just couldn’t warm up to this character. I understand her being disoriented and wanting to find a way home, but I wish she had stopped being a whiner much sooner.

3) The romance, which is somewhat part of point 2), felt weird and displaced. Lauren struck me as acting and reacting more like a teenager than an adult woman. I don’t know if I’m just a cold-hearted person, but poring over how beautiful the guy is when lost in a place where almost everyone wants you dead isn’t exactly my idea of “doing something constructive to get the hell out of here.”

In the shadows, he looks mysterious and perfect, also dangerous.
[…]
I look at him, his perfect chiseled face and his beautiful black eyes.

I’m still holding mixed feelings about the somewhat predictable development, because I find “this was just a dream/coma” tropes overdone. On the other hand, maybe this is more linked to my growing ability to spot tropes and imagine what the next step will be (I read a lot and have a paranoid imagination, too). Ambiguity permeates this new setting, sowing doubt in the character’s as well as the reader’s mind:

He’s perfect. Almost too perfect. He could be the fantasy man in a coma-induced world, and Peter could be real and waiting for me to wake up in Lost.

And the ending being left open as to Lauren’s fate puts the story back on its creepy, somewhat “magical” tracks.

I’d probably pick the next book in this series, to see what happens to Lauren.