science fiction Archives - Page 8 of 16

Yzabel / April 26, 2016

Review: Illuminae

My rating: [rating=5]

Blurb:

This morning, Kady thought breaking up with Ezra was the hardest thing she’d have to do.

This afternoon, her planet was invaded.

The year is 2575, and two rival megacorporations are at war over a planet that’s little more than an ice-covered speck at the edge of the universe. Too bad nobody thought to warn the people living on it. With enemy fire raining down on them, Kady and Ezra—who are barely even talking to each other—are forced to fight their way onto an evacuating fleet, with an enemy warship in hot pursuit.

But their problems are just getting started. A deadly plague has broken out and is mutating, with terrifying results; the fleet’s AI, which should be protecting them, may actually be their enemy; and nobody in charge will say what’s really going on. As Kady hacks into a tangled web of data to find the truth, it’s clear only one person can help her bring it all to light: the ex-boyfriend she swore she’d never speak to again.

Told through a fascinating dossier of hacked documents—including emails, schematics, military files, IMs, medical reports, interviews, and more—Illuminae is the first book in a heart-stopping, high-octane trilogy about lives interrupted, the price of truth, and the courage of everyday heroes.

Review:

4.5 stars. I had to wait for 4 months to finally be able to borrow it from the library (10 people ahead of me, bah), and I admit I was worried about the whole epistolary/chats/format thing, because it’s too easy to just slap “witty” formatting on pages and call that a good book. Fortunately, the story and characters really hooked me–yes, even though the “chat-speak” on some pages would normally quickly have annoyed me in other circumstances.

There was romance, but not of the stupid kind that casts a shadow on the whole plot. While Ezra and Kady do think about each other, after their world was turned upside down and forced them to reconsider the importance of a breakup for what I shall call “puny teenager reasons”, they didn’t spend their time mooning, groping each other, and sending the rest of their crews to hell just because feeeeeeelings. Contrary to what happens too often in many YA novels (you know, “the world is ending but we’re still too busy pondering who we want to go out with”). It wasn’t the best romance ever, but at least it was far from being the worst I read.

The format: fun to read, although I tended to prefer some aspects over others (the “chatspeak” conversations, for instance, weren’t my favourites). I think this was because of the whole “report” side of it, which made for a strange dichotomy in the narrative: both very factual (“here are recordings from camera X”) and unreliable (how were those recordings recovered and put back together?).

The characters: so I’ll be honest, Ezra and Kady were “good” to read about but not really more. Ezra enlisted to help, not knowing much to what he was signing up for, yet aware someone should help, and gradually revealing a few things about his family that were hard to suspect at first. I didn’t care for Kady much at first, because of her sullen, do-not-want-to-do-that attitude; however, she redeemed herself later, and anyway was more of an action girl with a bit of romance on the side than the usual (and annoying) lovestruck heroine who lets The Boy do all the work.

Yet as far as I’m concerned, the one character I really, really loved reading about was AIDAN. It’s crazy and damaged and desperately trying to latch upon what’s left of its programming, pushing its core directives in directions that may or may not be completely at odds with what the crews of the three spaceships would like (or need). And in doing so, in being so, it was all so human, spiralling towards both destruction and a new awareness.

And, frankly, I just loved that AI. It added at least a full star to my rating. No kidding. And just for AIDAN, I’d read it again. (Also for the unreliable parts I mentioned above, and the way they tie together, and you’d better pay attention to a few tiny details here and there.)

Yzabel / April 17, 2016

Review: Paper Girls vol. 1

Paper Girls Vol. 1 by Brian K. Vaughan

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

In the early hours after Halloween of 1988, four 2-yearold newspaper delivery girls uncover the most important story of all time. Suburban drama and otherworldly mysteries collide in this smashhit series about nostalgia, first jobs, and the last days of childhood. Collects PAPER GIRLS #1-5.

Review:

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

Intriguing premise, but lacking in execution, as events piled upon each other at a rhythm that obfuscated them a little too much.

It all starts with four 12-year old girls delivering newspapers in the early hours of the morning, in 1988 Cleveland, and quickly moves from mundane occurrings (bullying from shady teenagers) to weird ones. While running after a group of three shrouded figures who’ve slighted them, the girls discover some strange machine in a basement; a bright flash of white light later, everybody’s gone from town, and armoured-clad soldiers on dinosaurs stalk the streets to off every “straggler” they find. And this is only the beginning of Weird…

I liked the basic idea: people disappearing, those four kids armed only with their bikes and walkie-talkies (no internet or cell phones in 1988!), taken in the cross-fire between the armoured people and the shrouded ones, trying to make sense of it all while surviving… Not to mention a certain nostalgia permeating the whole story—enought to be felt, but not too much, not the point of too much name dropping or constantly referring to 80s items (the graphic format allows to put them here without having to underline their presence like a novel may have to).

On the other hand, so many events end up piled upon each other—so many weird things, without any actual revelation— that, just like the girls stumbling from situation to situation without a clue about what to do next, the reader too can feel confused. It’s not about getting all the information immediately, because that’d be no fun; still, there’s a very fine line between “mystery” and “a ton of mystery”, and the latter here is made up of one too many of those strange occurrings. Is it horror? Sci-fi? Is it about aliens or time travel? I had the feeling that the authors wanted to add as many elements as possible to deepen the mystery, without seeing where the line was; as a result, it’s a bit overkill for a first volume.

It would also have been nice to know more about the characters, since this would make it easier to relate to what’s happening to them (Mac’s family, Erin’s nightmares…). I didn’t feel like I had enough of a grasp on these girls to properly care about how they’d cope with events here.

The art and colours are good; my copy had compressed graphics, which dampened a bit my enthusiasm, but as I got a PDF for review, obviously this isn’t in the printed version. Ad it has some fairly decent dialogue linesm too.

Just for the artwork, this is worth keeping an eye on. Nevertheless, the story itself doesn’t sem to be going anywhere, being more a collage of “this weird thing happens, then this other weird thing, then yet another weird thing.”

Yzabel / April 6, 2016

Review: Broken Dolls

Broken Dolls by Tyrolin Puxty

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Ella doesn’t remember what it’s like to be human – after all, she’s lived as a doll for thirty years. She forgets what it’s like to taste, to breathe…to love.

She helps the professor create other dolls, but they don’t seem to hang around for long. His most recent creation is Lisa, a sly goth. Ella doesn’t like Lisa. How could she, when Lisa keeps trying to destroy her?

Ella likes the professor’s granddaughter though, even if she is dying. Gabby is like Ella’s personal bodyguard. It’s too bad the professor wants to turn Gabby into a doll too, depriving her of an education…depriving her of life.

With time running out and mad dolls on the rampage, Ella questions her very existence as she unearths the secrets buried in her past; secrets that will decide whether Gabby will befall the same fate…

Review:

[I received a copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.]

Mixed feelings regarding this novel: while I found the premise intriguing and a bit creepy (dolls who used to be human beings, possibly with a psychotic streak, I mean, come on, think “Chucky”), the explanation behind it all didn’t convince me.

From the beginning, Ella’s life is clearly on the twisted side, with a sort of Pygmalion-and-Galathea streak: she’s living in the attic of a mysterious Professor, who turned her into a doll and seems to love her, but also to keep her locked inside. She cannot go out, she cannot talk to other dolls or people, and all she has—even though she seems content with it at first—is dancing, her bedroom in a chest, and a recorder that she uses to narrate adventures. So when the Professor brings in another doll, Lisa, of course our little heroine is happy… except Lisa quickly starts asking too many questions and behaving strangely, because *she* remembers what it is to be human, and being a doll doesn’t sit with her. At all. No wonder she’s going a bit cray cray here, I think anyone would.

And as Lisa’s “madness” grows, Ella starts questioning more and more things, too, especially when Gabby, the Professor’s granddaughter, comes to spend a few days in the house: Gabby is dying from an incurable illness… and wouldn’t she make a pretty doll, too?

Well, as I said, I liked the story in the beginning; however, when the science part actually was revealed, it just didn’t work. The Professor’s goals were idealistic and positive, yet kind of naïve and unbelievable—I don’t think the achievements he was striving for could be attained just like that. (Although it would be nice if they could.) This was too wishy-washy to my liking. Suspension of disbelief kind of fell and crashed to the floor.

There were a few plot holes, too, that I was hoping would be covered, and… weren’t. What about the epidemics, for instance? A 95% mortality rate, and specifically targetted at O blood type people: that’s quite a lot of potential victims (about 35-40% of the US population is in this group?). It was on the news on TV in the novel, sure, but like an after thought, and it was difficult to believe that people weren’t more in a panic about it.

Also, the whole “she’s a goth so it explains why she’s psychotic (and why she used to cut herself)” was a) uncalled for, b) a stupid cliché. It may have been intended as a joke, but it didn’t feel like it. (Yes, I am totally biased in that regard. There’s so much more to the goth subculture than those images that, in fact, are exactly the ones that hurt, and make people bully those who embrace said subculture. Do not start me on that.)

Conclusion: good ideas in this story, and even though I found it more “OK” than “I really like it”, I may check out other works by this author later. Too bad the second half didn’t follow so much with the whole “creepy dolls” vibe from the first half, as I would’ve liked that more…

Yzabel / April 1, 2016

Review: Please Don’t Tell My Parents I’ve Got Henchmen

Please Don’t Tell My Parents I’ve Got Henchmen by Richard Roberts

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

What would middle school be like if half your classmates had super powers? It’s time for Penny Akk to find out. Her latest (failed) attempt to become a superhero has inspired the rest of the kids in her school to reveal their own powers.

Now, all of her relationships are changing. She has a not-at-all-secret admirer, who wants to be Penny’s partner almost as much as she wants to be Penny’s rival. The meanest girl in school has gained super powers and lost her mind. Can Penny help her find a better one? Can she help an aging supervillain connect with his daughter, and mend the broken hearts of two of the most powerful people in the world? And in all this, where will she find time for her own supervillainous fun, or even more dangerous, to start dating?

It’s going to be a long, strange semester.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.]

I have been following this series from its first volume, which I really liked, so I’ll admit to being slightly biased. I like the main characters, the world of superheroes and villains developed here—everybody knows they exist, with more or less admiration and acceptance of what they do, and with a subverted Masquerade trope (supers don’t hide per se, but there’s an unspoken rule about “not getting personal”, that is, not revealing people’s day-to-day identities).

And I’m feeling torn, because I liked this third volume, yet also found it kind of weak in terms of plot. Perhaps because it’s more focused on a part of Penny et al.’s life we hadn’t really seen yet, that is, growing up, and finding out that dividing one’s life between villainous activities, trying to become a hero, and just good old norma activities, is time-consuming and difficult.

In that regard, it was interesting. Other kids are making their coming out, refusing to hide their powers any longer, and a wind of acceptance is blowing over the school. The club activities, the new lair, those were both fun to read about, and also leading to more thoughtful considerations.

I quite liked Marcia’s development, although I wish we had been given some more information about how exactly she turned out like that (“she has the scrolls” is a bit of a shortcut: how did she survive them?). Her powers are of a kind that I find fascinating, that is, would you stay sane if nothing could hurt you, or not for long? Or would you start experimenting, looking for the one thing that may do you harm? It made me think of Claire’s experiments at the beginning of the “Heroes” series, only in a more.. unhealthy way. But then, I much prefer this Marcia to theuppity girl from book 1.

Quite a few things that left me frustrated, though:

– This is really more a “slice of life” book, without any real plot apart from the loose “teenagers gathering and developing their powers”. As mentioned above, it allowed to delve deeper into our three wannabe-heroes (or wannabe-villains?) problems and potential choices for the future, and to reveal more about existing characters, like Bull and his family. On the other hand, there was no real main plot here, ideas would spring up and unfurl into short events that would then die down, and good plot devices were lost in the middle. What about the robot? (Having her around more would’ve been fun… and I think we could do with a new Vera by now.) What exactly happened to Barbara to make her another kind of unpredictable, but perhaps still as dangerous as her sister? Also, we’re having many secondary characters introduced (the club) and this is screen time may have been better used on the Inscrutable Machine (who didn’t do enough villainy to my liking—I want to see them dostuff back together more often!).

– Still no real insight as to Ray’s family, which makes his position hard to relate to: it seems his parents would hate him if they were to learn he’s a super, and so he both wants to stay and to leave… but that’s only what we’re told. We never get to see his family. We don’t know what they’re like. Regular people, from what I rememberfrom book 1… or not so much? Are they heroes or villains in disguise? Or maybe people who got badly hurt in the past by some hero or villain, and now they despise everything “super”? I really, really want to know, and I really hope there’s more to Ray’s folks than the little we’vebeen told so far. It can’t be so simple. And if it has to be “that bad”, then I want to see it, too.

– Are the Akks so blind as to their daughter’s activities? Or are they pretending not to know? Deluding themselves? By now, this is more than troublesome. Maybe Penny’s father might get away with this (scientist more focused on his own inventions, and all that), but it’s difficult to keep seeing the Audit as this calculating, probabilities- and statistics-wielding ex-hero, as this sort of human computer, when she’s so oblivious to what’s so obvious. The “bumbling blind adult” trope isn’t working.

Honestly, I don’t like giving less than 3 stars to this book. But…

Nevertheless, this novel raises some interesting questions and potential future arcs at the end, and I’d still want to see those in a next installment, if it meant more antics from the trio. Among other things: what is the Inscrutable Machine to do, to choose, considering that they seem to be really talented at villainous stuff (with the good deeds backfiring), yet still find themselves instinctively helping people as well as causing mayhem? And what is Spider up to?

Yzabel / March 29, 2016

Review: Hides the Dark Tower

Hides the Dark Tower by Kelly A. Harmon

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Mysterious and looming, towers and tower-like structures pierce the skies and shadow the lands. Hides the Dark Tower includes over two dozen tales of adventure, danger, magic, and trickery from an international roster of authors. Readers of science fiction, fantasy, horror, grimdark, campfire tales, and more will find a story to haunt their dreams. So step out of the light, and into the world of Hides the Dark Tower—if you dare.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

This collection of short stories revolve around the theme of “towers”, and more specifically towers of the dark kind: towers of sorcery, alien towers in strange world, sinister lighthouses, towers of the Underworld… There are very few “nice” dwellings here, and a lot of the stories do not carry much hope, or are tinged with a bittersweet side.

I found this a quick and pleasant read in general. While I admit not caring much for the first story (a poem), there was nothing really catastrophic in there. On the other hand, no story felt really above the others as far as I’m concerned. Mostly it’s a matter of a good deal of stories feeling somewhat “unfinished”: too short for me to properly get to care about the characters (“Beneath the Bell Bay Light”, “Core Craving”), with endings that were often too open, as if something was missing (“Giving a Hand”, “Smoke and Sprites”), even though at first they did seem complete. That’s something I’ve struggled with myself, and something I find regularly in other anthologies, and I won’t fault this one specifically. So, all in all, it’s a solid 3 stars, though not more.

The stories I liked best:

“Squire Magic”: Bittersweet indeed, but a nice lesson about magic, and how the most powerful spells aren’t always able to best a cunning mind who knows what to do with “simple” spells.

“The Tower”: a quaint and quiet little town, a man staying close to its roots, and the evil looming abover everyone, in the shape of an old water tower. It had a bit of a Stephen King feeling.

“They Warp the Fabric of the Sky”: Beware what you’re looking for… and do not disregard the power of a smile.

“Kiss of Death”: Somewhat comical and light, yet also a beautiful love story. (And it has a Lich and a Necromancer! Bonus points!)

“Annie the Escaper”: actually, not really a favourite; however, I liked the idea of a species realising in the end it couldn’t live without the other, although not for the most obvious reason.

Special mention for “The Blind Queen’s Daughter” because Arthurian & Lovecraftian mythos together.

Yzabel / February 27, 2016

Review: Tell the Wind and Fire

Tell the Wind and Fire by Sarah Rees Brennan

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

In a city divided between opulent luxury in the Light and fierce privations in the Dark, a determined young woman survives by guarding her secrets.

Lucie Manette was born in the Dark half of the city, but careful manipulations won her a home in the Light, celebrity status, and a rich, loving boyfriend. Now she just wants to keep her head down, but her boyfriend has a dark secret of his own—one involving an apparent stranger who is destitute and despised. Lucie alone knows the young men’s deadly connection, and even as the knowledge leads her to make a grave mistake, she can trust no one with the truth.

Blood and secrets alike spill out when revolution erupts. With both halves of the city burning, and mercy nowhere to be found, can Lucie save either boy—or herself?

Review:

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

A retelling of Dickens’s “A Tale of Two Cities”, with a futuristic and urban-fantasy twist: the two cities are the two halves of New York, Light and Dark, divided according the type of magic their respective citizens can wield. Light magic for healing, for dazzling, for fighting in the name of what is “good”, through the use of bejeweled rings. And Dark magic, feeding on blood and death, but necessary nonetheless because only a Dark mage can save a Light one when the latter finds themselves poisoned by the build-up of their own power, cristallised in their veins. And in the middle of this, the dopplegangers, always born to the Dark, and cursed to die young, bearing the faces of whose people they saved by simply being created, thus taking their misery upon them.

Lucie Manette used a to be a citizen of the Dark, until her mother vanished and her father got jailed, ending up so traumatised he cannot function properly some days. After Lucie devised a plan to make him escape, they went to live with a couple of friends in Light New York, and that’s where she discovered another kind of life: one where she could be close to powerful people, one where she found love with Ethan Stryker, handsome and heir to a brilliant future.

As a retelling, I thought this worked surprisingly well in some ways: the story followed quite a few of the themes of the original one. The torn family escaping a tumultuous place and finding refuge in an apparently more peaceful one. The motif of the “double”, dealt with here with the dopplegangers—Carwyn is obviously Sydney, and his reputation as “depraved” comes from his being a doppleganger, with all the rumours about them (they have no souls, they’re born from death, etc.). The mistaken identity. The love triangle (because there is a love triangle in Dickens’s novel, so even though I usually don’t care for them, at least here it was to be expected as a motif, too). Lucie as the narrator, yet still used as a symbol, still considered as the girl to be paraded, so to speak. Sacrifice and “doing what’s right”. I found those themes, and was glad to see them, and at the same time to see how different the plot had turned out.

On the other hand, quite a few things contributed to making this book not work for me. The characters, for starters, rather weak and underdeveloped. For most of the story, Ethan was the bland cookie-cutter nice boyfriend without much of a personality. Carwyn was snarky and all, but it was difficult to get a real feeling for who he was, and I admit that mostly what I ended up with were my memories of the character of the original novel, as a trope rather than a person. Lucie… Lucie was supposedly strong, but she kept making stupid decisions that I couldn’t understand, not in a character who was supposed to be “street-savvy”. Stupid upon stupid decisions, and for someone who had spent two years navigating a different world, and the years before surviving in the Dark, she was definitely bordering on the too stupid to live variety, in spite of her magic and the way she perceived herself (she does acknowledge when she makes a bad decision… afterwards—and then promptly makes another one). This character was baffling, really, and every time she made me think she was strong, she immediately destroyed that by doing something stupid again. (And what about going to such lengths to save her father, then never talking to her family in the Dark? It didn’t seem like they had done anything wrong…)

The plot was also slow-paced, a bit confusing at first, relying on a few chapters of info-dumping to make the setting clear. I’d say about half to two thirds of the story were somewhat boring, The last 30% made the novel more interesting again, however the ending felt too open (I don’t know if there’ll be a second installment, if this is a standalone novel or the beginning of a series). The situation in both cities isn’t solved. What happens to Lucie and her beloved ones isn’t solved either, and could go wrong in so many ways that we could do with an epilogue or an additional chapter. Lucie’s status as a symbol isn’t made clear either: will other people let her stand up for what she believes in, or will she be discreetly smothered in a corner after a while? After all, she said it herself: “the Golden Thread in the Dark” (not a fan of this tile, by the way, however it echoes well Lucie’s hair in AToTC) was a child, pure and innocent, but once the child becomes a woman, people start perceiving her differently, and the image she projects is different, too…

Last but not least, the typical “pocket-world syndrome” often found in dystopian stories. New York is clearly not the only place where people can use Light and Dark magic (trains go to other places outside of the city, for instance), but there’s never any mention of another type of government than the Light council, no mention of other cities, no National Guard or whatever to intervene when the revolution starts, and so on. It’s like Light & Dark New York are the only cities left on Earth, or as if the rest of the world doesn’t care, won’t do anything, won’t even turn an eye on its problems. I always find this odd.

All in all, it *was* an interesting retelling in several ways, and a darker kind of YA as well, but fell short of what I thought it could’ve been.

Yzabel / February 13, 2016

Review: If Then

If Then by Matthew De Abaitua

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

James has a scar in the back of his head. It’s where he was wounded in the Battle of Suvla Bay on August 1915. Or is the scar the mark of his implant that allows the Process to fill his mind with its own reality?

In IF, the people of a small English town cling on after everything fell apart under the protection of the Process, the computer system that runs every aspect of their lives. But sometimes people must be evicted from the town. That’s the job of James, the bailiff. While on patrol, James discovers the replica of a soldier from the First World War wandering the South Downs. This strange meeting begins a new cycle of evictions in the town, while out on the rolling downland, the Process is methodically growing the soldiers and building the weapons required to relive a long lost battle.

In THEN, it is August 1915, at the Battle of Suvla Bay in the Dardanelles campaign. Compared to the thousands of allied soldiers landing on this foreign beach, the men of the 32nd Field Ambulance are misfits and cranks of every stripe: a Quaker pacifist, a freethinking padre, a meteorologist, and the private (once a bailiff) known simply as James. Exposed to constant shellfire and haunted by ghostly snipers, the stretcher-bearers work day and night on the long carry of wounded men. One night they stumble across an ancient necropolis, disturbed by an exploding shell. What they discover within this ancient site will make them question the reality of the war and shake their understanding of what it means to be human…

Review:

[I received a copy of this book from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Very difficult to rate: interesting ideas and mind-challenging themes (the horrors of war, a dystopian United Kingdom after a huge financial and societal collapse, one man’s vision to stop the war once and for all…), but quite a few chapters seemed to be meandering rather than carrying their purpose, and it made some parts somewhat dull to read.

The beginning introduces us to “If”, a current-era dystopian world where markets collapsed, people lost their jobs in droves, and where the mysterious “Process” (a c omputer? A mere clump of algorithms? Actual people behind it?) relocated some people into an apparent dream-slash-experimental community, making them coming back to simpler ways of life and set places in society in exchange for happiness. In this community, James, the bailiff, regularly dons his huge armor to evict those judged unworthy by the Process, blissfully unaware of what he actually does to them thanks to the implant in his brain controlling his actions. Where do the evictaed go? Not his problem.

Or is it?

As James starts to question his place in this new world, and his wife Ruth struggles with determining whether what her husband (and the Process) do is good or evil, made-up soldiers appear near the community: mindless, half-formed creatures given shape by the Process, to serve a goal nobody understands. Except for one, Hector, who seems to be more “advanced” than the others. The Institue, under the care of Alex Drown and Omega John, wants to study him, and task James with observing him. And so James is dragged little by little into the first World War, through the mystery behind Hector’s existence. Meantime, in Suvla Bay during the Great War, a group of stretcher-bearers also try to make sense of their surroundings, of their role, and of a strange sniper always following and targetting them…

A lot of elements intertwine and mingle in this narrative. What is real and what is dream/illusion only isn’t so clearly defined. Is War-James and Bailiff-James the same person, or not? Jumped back in time, or not? Is he forced to relive events of the past as an observer accidentally thrown in their middle, or does he stand a chance of actually making a difference? The story explores such themes, and more, through James and his fellow stretch-bearers, as well as through Ruth’s parallel narrative. Reality and illusion are difficult to tell from each other, not before the last third of the book, and this strengthens the feelings of ubiquity and confusion the characters are going through. The futility of one’s life in the trenches, fighting faceless enemies again and again, being wounded and dying for what appears to them as “nothing” – because they just cannot make sense out of that war anymore – hits right home when it comes to the Great War and to what it must have represented to people who lived it: the first such conflict the world saw, where the older ways of war were turned upside down and new, even more terribles ways of battling were born. (At least, that’s always how I’ve felt regarding this particular set of events in history.)

The writing itself flows nicely, carrying well both the horrors of the illusion-or-not-illusion war and of the modern world, the feeling of betrayal Ruth and James have to contend with when it comes to the Process starting to behave erratically, and the betrayal experienced by the soldiers as their leaders remain so remote. “Abandoned by their leaders” is what may sum this up the best.

And yet I struggled through a good half of the book, very likely because the Great War part seemed to meander and loop on itself: good to enforce what the characters had to make sense of, but not so good for a reader trying to keep tabs on what was happening and find out what the true goal of the novel was. As for that, I’m not exactly quite sure, though I cannot help but think that, as misguided as the means may have been, the reasons of the “brain” behind it all made sense. A horrible sense, granted, but sense all the same.

It’s hard to tell whether I liked this book or not. I’d probably give it 4 stars if the second third wasn’t so confusing (in that it seemed to chase its own tail more than playing with my nerves). It was interesting, at any rate, and intriguing.

Yzabel / February 8, 2016

Review: Luna: New Moon

Luna: New Moon by Ian McDonald

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

The scions of a falling house must navigate a world of corporate warfare to maintain their family’s status in the Moon’s vicious political atmosphere…

The Moon wants to kill you.

Maybe it will kill you when the per diem for your allotted food, water, and air runs out, just before you hit paydirt. Maybe it will kill you when you are trapped between the reigning corporations-the Five Dragons-in a foolish gamble against a futuristic feudal society. On the Moon, you must fight for every inch you want to gain. And that is just what Adriana Corta did.

As the leader of the Moon’s newest “dragon,” Adriana has wrested control of the Moon’s Helium-3 industry from the Mackenzie Metal corporation and fought to earn her family’s new status. Now, in the twilight of her life, Adriana finds her corporation-Corta Helio-confronted by the many enemies she made during her meteoric rise. If the Corta family is to survive, Adriana’s five children must defend their mother’s empire from her many enemies… and each other.

Review:

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

I’m definitely not a fan of present tense 3rd person narration, so it took me a while to finally get to this book. However, once I was immersed into the story, its plot unfurled and flew by quite fast, keeping me interested.

There’s corporate warfare, and strange politics based on contracts voluntarily built on loopholes to allow a way out. There are trials fought to death in gruesome duels, in a society full of glitz and glamour, of parties and fancy clothes, of heaps of money pitched against the utter poverty of those whose shallowest breath is still counted and charged, driving them more and more into depth. An exquisite blend of blinding limelights obfuscating ugly shadows, and of soft shadows trying to stand against a destructive light.

Quite a few characters evolve in this first part of the “Luna” duology. The list at the beginning kind of made me fear I wouldn’t find my way through them—and so, exerting the full strength of my usual spirit of contradiction, I decided not to read this list, to see if I could sort it out myself. Answer: yes, I could. Even though the language of this “new moon society” is full of terms borrowed from many cultures, the story still flowed in a way that let me understand who was who, who was married to whom, and who was doing what.

This same society is tremendously complex, old-fashioned and open at the same time. Alliances are drawn through arranged marriages, sometimes even between teenagers and adults fifteen years older than them (and wrapping one’s mind around that is quite a feat); those same alliances, though, don’t rest the least bit on traditional conventions. Men marry men if they like; some live in codified polyamory relationships; some decide to assume an identity based on neither femininity nor masculinity; some even go with pronouns related not to their gender but to their deeper self (especially the “wolves”: people influenced by the waxing and waning of the Earth). It’s good to see relationships going in varied ways, and I thought it fitted a future society whose defining norms were in part similar to those we know, and in part so different.

It’s, frankly, an overwhelming world, a microcosm full of its own self-aggrandised perception, dependent on Earth for some things, keeping Earth in a tight vise for others (Corta Hélio “lights Earth every day” through its helium-3 exports); as much open to it (“Jo Moonbeams” leave the blue planet on a very regular basis to come and work on the moon) as it is closed (moon people have basically two years before their bones become too brittle, and after that time, either they have to go back to Earth or decide to stay in space forever, since gravity would literally crush them). In a way, one novel—or two—isn’t enough to explore all this, and it was a bit frustrating: inwardly, I was screaming for more.

The cast of characters reflect this society. They are ruthless, they are fighters each in their own way: Ariel in the courts, Lucas through his schemes, Carlinhos with his bikers and his knives, Marina with her Earthian strength and will to find a job to support her family… Even Lucasinho, through his little teenage rebellion that however allows him to understand what finding allies truly means. They dance in their own world, wary of the other families yet drawn to them out of necessity, to play the game of alliances, of betrayal, of selling and getting information, of trying to reconcile their real feelings to the fact they cannot afford to show anything, lest they be seen as weak. And the intrigue: a slash here, a blow there, events piling up on each other now and then, until the finale. All under the failing eye of Adriana Corta, the Founder, the Matriarch, fearing her children would fight for the remains of House Corta, and trying to remain as hard as she used to be when, as a young woman, she set out to found her own dynasty, the Fifth Dragon.

(I like Adriana. I first discovered her in a short story, which made me jump on the novel when it was on NetGalley. Her own narrative, her confession, highlighted the story of the Cortas, of how they rose to power, of their allies… and of the enemies they made along the way.)

On the downside, I wasn’t too sold on the “reverse werewolf” idea: while interesting, it seemed to come out of nowhere (I was more interested in the other part of Wagner’s story, to be honest). But maybe it’ll play another part in the upcoming volume. There’s also a soap opera side to all these relationships and backstabbing and guessing who’s preparing what against whom, that was perhaps a bit “too much”. This said, since I still found myself rooting for some of the characters, and entrenched within the story, I am not going to complain: sometimes, “too much” is highly entertaining no matter what.

Conclusion: a few elements that I wasn’t convinced by, but a world and a plot I definitely want to see through in the second book.

Yzabel / February 5, 2016

Review: The SEA Is Ours

The Sea Is Ours: Tales from Steampunk Southeast Asia by Jaymee Goh

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Steampunk takes on Southeast Asia in this anthology

The stories in this collection merge technological wonder with the everyday. Children upgrade their fighting spiders with armor, and toymakers create punchcard-driven marionettes. Large fish lumber across the skies, while boat people find a new home on the edge of a different dimension. Technology and tradition meld as the people adapt to the changing forces of their world. The Sea Is Ours is an exciting new anthology that features stories infused with the spirits of Southeast Asia’s diverse peoples, legends, and geography.

Summary:

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

An interesting change of setting, mixing south-eastern Asia culture and various other aspects to engineering and more “steampunkish” elements. I appreciated this nice change of pace, so different from the typical corset & goggle aesthetics: though I still love the latter, variety is always good, and the whole steam/mechanical technology shouldn’t be restricted to European or American settings.

Descriptions and characters mostly felt real enough, and I had no trouble imagining what their surroundings looked like. Some stories used “foreign” words whose meaning wasn’t too difficult to guess, so it added to the immersion factor while not being overly confusing. A certain dichotomy also permeated this anthology, though in a harmonious way, in that several of the stories mixed technology with traditional or supernatural aspects: the Westerners’ cold, rational technology as opposed to a technology combining magic or spirits to science. As simplistic as the first may seem, it still flowed well enough for me.

What I found lacking in this anthology is something I find both very difficult to achieve as a writer, and lacking in short stories in general: it came with a lot of excellent ideas, character concepts and backgrounds, but tended to leave the reader to dry by cutting off abruptly the narratives. I kept expecting either more of a punchline at the end of stories, or to learn that those had also been developed / were to be developed into novellas or novels later. As a result, I more than once reached the end of a story thinking “am I missing a few pages here?”

Favourite stories:

“On the Consequence of Sound”: though the ending was a bit predictable, I really liked the idea of using music to make items and ships levitate.

“The Unmaking of the Cuadro Amoroso”: exploring various ideas, such as artists that are also scientists (or is it the contrary?), science versus faith, an oppressive government, revenge, and a polyamorous relationship presented in a totally natural way.

“Working women”: a bit too abrupt to my taste in how events unfurled, however I liked its weaving of three women’s stories, colliding through mechanical transformations, how society perceived them, and how they acted to (re)claim their own worth and independence.

Formatting: a few typos here and there, however I read an ARC, so this was probably to be expected. I don’t know about the printed book.

Yzabel / December 10, 2015

Review: Nirvana

Nirvana by J.R. Stewart

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

When the real world is emptied of all that you love, how can you keep yourself from dependence on the virtual?

Larissa Kenders lives in a world where the real and the virtual intermingle daily. After the supposed death of her soulmate, Andrew, Larissa is able to find solace by escaping to Nirvana, a virtual world where anything is possible – even visits with Andrew. Although Larissa is told that these meetings are not real, she cannot shake her suspicion that Andrew is indeed alive. When she begins an investigation of Hexagon, the very institution that she has been taught to trust, Larissa uncovers much more than she ever expected and places herself in serious danger. Her biggest challenge, however, remains determining what is real – and what is virtual.

Nirvana is the first instalment in the three-part “Nirvana” series, a fast-paced, page-turning young adult trilogy that combines elements of the romance, mystery, and science fiction genres. This first novel introduces readers to a heroine who refuses to give up on the man she loves, even if it means taking on an entire government to do so.

Review:

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

I can’t remember how I got approved. I think I received an invitation, months ago, but didn’t get to reading the book until now. And then, halfway through, I realised what I had was the first ARC, and that I needed to download it again, because the author had rewritten a lot after the first batch of reviews. Or something to that extent? Anyway, I got the second version, and I’m glad I did. I still didn’t like “Nirvana” in the end, but I can commend the effort, as there was quite some improvement compared to the first version. (On the other hand, it gets to show that when a book’s in a first draft state, or close to it, it’s really best not to publish it… Reviewers aren’t beta-readers.)

The premise was definitely interesting: future dystopia, post-apocalyptic world after a series of environmental disasters, people living under tight control from corporations (mainly Hexagon), and blowing their hard-earned money on a virtual world named Nirvana—even as little as one quarter of an hour a week, as it’s the only escape from daily drudgery in bunkers. In typical dystopian fashion, our heroine, Larissa (prefers to be called Kenders) discovers dark secrets while investigating into the death of her boyfriend Andrew. Also in typical dystopian fashion, there’s a clear cut between the elite, the rich and famous, who can afford housing in “the Bubble”, whereas the others are left to survive however they can: as Nirvana operators if they’re lucky, as slaves in the Farms if they’re not.

To be honest, it’s pretty difficult for me to review only the second version, without thinking about the first one. The second version felt, all in all, smoother: where the first one threw me in a world where Kenders patrolled the wastelands as a soldier, without much sense of direction, here she felt much more integrated in her world, being a Nirvana operator. The technology seemed more real, too, better thought and described, and the narrative more logical: moving fast, but clearly not as over the place as the first version’s was. I could tell where the story was improved, and in a way, I’m glad I got to read both versions (at least partially).

I didn’t like it, though. A shame, but, well, it happens.

– The character’s age, first. In the original story, Kenders was 24, Andrew and Serge a couple of years older… And this was good. Now Kenders is 17, the guys are 19-20, and this felt just so weird. I could believe in a 24-year-old now-soldier, ex-punk rocker/university student. But the same character aged 17, reflecting on all that stuff she had done “years ago”? Not believable, especially not when surrounded with people of the same type (so many “gifted kids” in one place, when nothing highlighted that fact = strange). Moreover, it cast a shadow on the Kenders-Andrew relationship: I always have a hard time with those “old couple-slash-soulmates forever” tropes when the characters are so young.

– The environmental disaster(s). They felt like they happened in 1-2 years, even if they were nothing new for the characters, and the world-building here was kind of lazy, too. The bees disappeared, OK, but they’re not the only way plants can reproduce. Other species play a part as well. I wasn’t sold on that one reason.

– The explanation heavy-handed “corporations are evulz” message.

– The beginning of the novel was smoother (the parts with Serge and in the Bubble made much more sense!), but the last chapters went so fast! One moment, this or that character was alive… then they were dead, and it happened in such a quick and dispassionate way that I was all “Wait, what… Oh… Am I supposed to feel sad, now?” I couldn’t get invested in their lives, their emotions, in what was at stake for them. Kenders being in a punk rock band didn’t add much to her personality, and the part with her father… didn’t lead to much either?

– Some very, very stupid decisions. Of the too-stupid-to-live kind. Literally. Why did so-and-so have to engineer such a situation where they would end up dying along with the enemy, when there were likely other solutions? Why didn’t they anticipate that the “bad guys” wouldn’t come alone / wouldn’t be fooled by the diversion? *That* kind of decisions. And Kenders wasn’t especially clever.

– Nirvana itself. Mostly it was Kenders meeting Andrew in their 2-3 favourite online places. In the end, I didn’t get the effect I was expecting (i.e. “lost in a virtual world / confusing virtual world with reality and vice versa”). Both worlds were always very clearly delimited in my opinion.

– The Red Door program. It gets lumped on us in the beginning and at the end, but there was no real central thread regarding this. I was under the impression it was here just because any dystopian world needs its oppressive, gets-rid-of-“dissenters” program.

– Info dumps. Lots of them. This didn’t change much between the first and second versions.

– The love triangle. Not even worth mentioning. Uh.

Conclusion: An improved version, but one that would still need lots of work for me to enjoy it.