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songwind's review against another edition
4.0
In the interests of fairness, I must disclose that I am a personal friend of the author and his family.
I like many different kinds of books and authors, and I like them for different reasons. One thing they all have in common is that the books are interesting. Other strengths and weaknesses vary from book to book.
Where Michael Merriam and Last Car to Annwn Station shine are in the realms of story and character. The story sets a good pace, and feels neither rushed nor plodding. There are really three storylines at work. Two are intimately related, and the third is tangled up in their dance. Mae Malveaux is a CPS case worker who has stumbled across something hidden while trying to protect a young girl named Chrysandra Arneson. She's warned off the case, which has been closed irregularly by the county attorney. Shortly afterward, she begins to see strange things that have no right existing in the staid world of the Twin Cities. A ride on a ghostly trolley car changes her life forever.
At the same time, we learn of a young girl being held captive and writing letters to a wall in her room with a smuggled pencil. It quickly becomes apparent that the girl is somehow connected to the Arnesons, and whatever strange activity Mae has tripped over.
In the midst of this chaos comes Jill, a fellow county employee and long-time friend of Mae. With timing that couldn't be worse, she begins to pay serious court to our confused heroine, getting herself involved in the mystery as well.
The story unfolds well, with revelations and events coming along quickly enough to keep it interesting but no so fast as to feel chaotic and confused. The story ties romance, mythology and mystery together in an enjoyable package. The use of the unknown kidnapped girl as a viewpoint character removes some of the mystery, but allows us to know in a vague way what the Bad Guys are up to, and prevents many things in the final confrontation from feeling like a convenient deus ex machina.
The romantic subplot is handled in a believable and appropriate fashion. Romance and its attendant dramas are not the motivating factor for the overall plot, though they have a predictable effect on the actions of some characters. The choice to make the main character's love interest a long-standing friend was a good one: there is no way a relationship budding this quickly between strangers would have been believable.
The characters in the novel are very well realized, including many that have relatively little active time in the book. Motivations and relationships are complex, and some are pleasantly left vague instead of being artificially tied up in a neat package. The antagonists, though quite vile in sum, are not two dimensional and have their own multi-layered reasons for their actions. I would like to have known a bit more about the personalities and motivations of some of the supernatural entities, but at the same time their vagueness lent them an air of inhumanity.
The only real issue I had with the book was an occasional area where the language felt stiff. Merriam's prose is straightforward and to-the-point, rather than beautiful or lyrical. This works for his style of storytelling, getting the words out of the way of the story and its characters. However, there are times when I felt like the dialog in particular was begging for more shorthand or contractions, and the text's more formal tone interrupted the rhythm in my head.
All told, an excellent and easy read. Recommended for any fans of urban fantasy without the overwhelming preoccupation with romance and sexuality.
I like many different kinds of books and authors, and I like them for different reasons. One thing they all have in common is that the books are interesting. Other strengths and weaknesses vary from book to book.
Where Michael Merriam and Last Car to Annwn Station shine are in the realms of story and character. The story sets a good pace, and feels neither rushed nor plodding. There are really three storylines at work. Two are intimately related, and the third is tangled up in their dance. Mae Malveaux is a CPS case worker who has stumbled across something hidden while trying to protect a young girl named Chrysandra Arneson. She's warned off the case, which has been closed irregularly by the county attorney. Shortly afterward, she begins to see strange things that have no right existing in the staid world of the Twin Cities. A ride on a ghostly trolley car changes her life forever.
At the same time, we learn of a young girl being held captive and writing letters to a wall in her room with a smuggled pencil. It quickly becomes apparent that the girl is somehow connected to the Arnesons, and whatever strange activity Mae has tripped over.
In the midst of this chaos comes Jill, a fellow county employee and long-time friend of Mae. With timing that couldn't be worse, she begins to pay serious court to our confused heroine, getting herself involved in the mystery as well.
The story unfolds well, with revelations and events coming along quickly enough to keep it interesting but no so fast as to feel chaotic and confused. The story ties romance, mythology and mystery together in an enjoyable package. The use of the unknown kidnapped girl as a viewpoint character removes some of the mystery, but allows us to know in a vague way what the Bad Guys are up to, and prevents many things in the final confrontation from feeling like a convenient deus ex machina.
The romantic subplot is handled in a believable and appropriate fashion. Romance and its attendant dramas are not the motivating factor for the overall plot, though they have a predictable effect on the actions of some characters. The choice to make the main character's love interest a long-standing friend was a good one: there is no way a relationship budding this quickly between strangers would have been believable.
The characters in the novel are very well realized, including many that have relatively little active time in the book. Motivations and relationships are complex, and some are pleasantly left vague instead of being artificially tied up in a neat package. The antagonists, though quite vile in sum, are not two dimensional and have their own multi-layered reasons for their actions. I would like to have known a bit more about the personalities and motivations of some of the supernatural entities, but at the same time their vagueness lent them an air of inhumanity.
The only real issue I had with the book was an occasional area where the language felt stiff. Merriam's prose is straightforward and to-the-point, rather than beautiful or lyrical. This works for his style of storytelling, getting the words out of the way of the story and its characters. However, there are times when I felt like the dialog in particular was begging for more shorthand or contractions, and the text's more formal tone interrupted the rhythm in my head.
All told, an excellent and easy read. Recommended for any fans of urban fantasy without the overwhelming preoccupation with romance and sexuality.
kleonard's review against another edition
1.0
A pedestrian fantasy novel with a queer romance. The plot is predictable, the characters are utterly dull and flat, and there's a significant amount of bias: one example is that the only character described as "dark" as opposed to very, very white is one who is also described as grotesque and horrifying to look at. The characters could easily have been good, but nothing makes them come to life. The dialogue is boring and prosaic, there's a lot of telling rather than showing, and there's little chemistry between even the lovers. The characters seem to think that violence is the best way to do anything involving conflict, and there is a lot of violence indeed. And the plot is a tired one: everyday woman finds out she's part fae, that her fae mother is super-powerful, that she has a fae sister, and becomes a champion of her newfound people. Give this one a miss.
familiar_diversions's review
3.0
This book has a lot of elements that might attract readers: a magical streetcar, a zombie child, a multitude of fae creatures, references to Welsh mythology, and a bit of f/f romance. While many of those elements interested me at first, I found Last Car to Annwn Station to be so-so overall.
I felt like I spent a lot of this book waiting for things to happen. Through “Chrysandra”'s wall writings, I knew what was going on with her – mostly, she was trapped in one spot, trying to survive, watching the real Chrysandra rot, and waiting for an opportunity to either get help or attack her captors. I tended to prefer the scenes with Mae and Jill most when something more than information-gathering was going on – when they were being attacked by the hounds of the Wild Hunt, looking around or breaking into the Arnesons' home, or entering Annwn. Unfortunately, large portions of the book tended to bore me. There were too many scenes of people sitting or standing around, debating what to do.
The development of Mae and Jill's relationship seemed a little awkward. I found myself thinking that they would have made better, more natural friends than lovers. For a good chunk of the book, Mae was somewhat interested in Jill but wasn't really sure if those feelings were mutual. She didn't see how they could be, since she thought of herself as plain and Jill as gorgeous. Their first kissing scene was, in my opinion, badly timed – Jill was bandaged up quite a bit, and I kept wondering when Mae would accidentally hurt her. Their relationship did get to a point where it felt more natural, but the progression to that point could have been smoother.
The fantasy elements were a bit bland. This was not a book that reveled in complex magical systems or even descriptions of various faerie cultures and creatures. I'm still not really sure how an old Minneapolis streetcar fits in with Welsh mythology and, although I know that there were several fae creatures that looked different from each other, I couldn't tell you much about them besides that. The one thing that probably got the most attention was Annwn itself. Oh, and Death.
I was a little surprised at the book's horror elements, coming in the form of a rotting, zombified Chrysandra. There were several times I thought I'd gotten used to her and found myself sighing at yet another one of “Chrysandra”'s reminders that the real Chrysandra was rotting...and then something would happen that horrified me anew. I actually found myself more interested in Chrysandra and how she was getting on than I was in any of the fae creatures.
The last 20 pages or so really picked up the pace and grabbed my interest to the point where I stayed up a bit later than I had planned. I would have preferred it, though, if the book had wrapped up with something other than one of “Chrysandra”'s diary entries.
This wasn't a bad book. I worried about Chrysandra and her double, and I liked that the f/f elements were tastefully done (never once did it feel like Mae and Jill were putting on a show for male readers). I wondered how and if Mae and Jill would manage to save themselves and protect Chrysandra. However, the book didn't really have anything to it that grabbed me or would prompt me to reread it.
(Original review, with read-alikes, posted on A Library Girl's Familiar Diversions.)
I felt like I spent a lot of this book waiting for things to happen. Through “Chrysandra”'s wall writings, I knew what was going on with her – mostly, she was trapped in one spot, trying to survive, watching the real Chrysandra rot, and waiting for an opportunity to either get help or attack her captors. I tended to prefer the scenes with Mae and Jill most when something more than information-gathering was going on – when they were being attacked by the hounds of the Wild Hunt, looking around or breaking into the Arnesons' home, or entering Annwn. Unfortunately, large portions of the book tended to bore me. There were too many scenes of people sitting or standing around, debating what to do.
The development of Mae and Jill's relationship seemed a little awkward. I found myself thinking that they would have made better, more natural friends than lovers. For a good chunk of the book, Mae was somewhat interested in Jill but wasn't really sure if those feelings were mutual. She didn't see how they could be, since she thought of herself as plain and Jill as gorgeous. Their first kissing scene was, in my opinion, badly timed – Jill was bandaged up quite a bit, and I kept wondering when Mae would accidentally hurt her. Their relationship did get to a point where it felt more natural, but the progression to that point could have been smoother.
The fantasy elements were a bit bland. This was not a book that reveled in complex magical systems or even descriptions of various faerie cultures and creatures. I'm still not really sure how an old Minneapolis streetcar fits in with Welsh mythology and, although I know that there were several fae creatures that looked different from each other, I couldn't tell you much about them besides that. The one thing that probably got the most attention was Annwn itself. Oh, and Death.
I was a little surprised at the book's horror elements, coming in the form of a rotting, zombified Chrysandra. There were several times I thought I'd gotten used to her and found myself sighing at yet another one of “Chrysandra”'s reminders that the real Chrysandra was rotting...and then something would happen that horrified me anew. I actually found myself more interested in Chrysandra and how she was getting on than I was in any of the fae creatures.
The last 20 pages or so really picked up the pace and grabbed my interest to the point where I stayed up a bit later than I had planned. I would have preferred it, though, if the book had wrapped up with something other than one of “Chrysandra”'s diary entries.
This wasn't a bad book. I worried about Chrysandra and her double, and I liked that the f/f elements were tastefully done (never once did it feel like Mae and Jill were putting on a show for male readers). I wondered how and if Mae and Jill would manage to save themselves and protect Chrysandra. However, the book didn't really have anything to it that grabbed me or would prompt me to reread it.
(Original review, with read-alikes, posted on A Library Girl's Familiar Diversions.)
tangleroot_eli's review
4.0
In the interests of full disclosure, Michael Merriam is a friend of mine. But he knows that my reviewing hat also has a honey badger on the brim, and I don't hand out stars willy-nilly-milly-vanilly. So if I gush a bit, it's because Merriam has written exactly the kind of book I like, not because I know him.
So...urban fantasy--check. Set in my hometown and its environs--check. Queer female protagonists, one of whom is explicitly bisexual--check. Alternate transportation--check. One less faerie, and we could subtitle this That Book Michael Merriam Wrote Just for Eli.
Not that I minded the inclusion of the fae; just that it's not where I usually lean. In fact, one of my favorite things about Last Car is that characters from our realm move in and out of the fae realm, making the supernatural elements absolutely integral, instead of feeling chucked on because urban fantasy is "in" now.
The book's not perfect (but then, what book is?). A lot of the Mae/Jill banter that was supposed to be flirtatious felt strained to me; Merriam sometimes gives us too much step-by-step detail about what characters are doing; and I would've preferred a resolution that involved less hacking and slashing. But this is a fun and fast-paced read with some interesting characters and a plot that's layered enough to hold readers' interest without bogging down in needless complication.
Well done.
So...urban fantasy--check. Set in my hometown and its environs--check. Queer female protagonists, one of whom is explicitly bisexual--check. Alternate transportation--check. One less faerie, and we could subtitle this That Book Michael Merriam Wrote Just for Eli.
Not that I minded the inclusion of the fae; just that it's not where I usually lean. In fact, one of my favorite things about Last Car is that characters from our realm move in and out of the fae realm, making the supernatural elements absolutely integral, instead of feeling chucked on because urban fantasy is "in" now.
The book's not perfect (but then, what book is?). A lot of the Mae/Jill banter that was supposed to be flirtatious felt strained to me; Merriam sometimes gives us too much step-by-step detail about what characters are doing; and I would've preferred a resolution that involved less hacking and slashing. But this is a fun and fast-paced read with some interesting characters and a plot that's layered enough to hold readers' interest without bogging down in needless complication.
Well done.
ashlanswain's review
4.0
Last Car to Annwyn Station had some standard urban fantasy elements--fae, the supernatural hiding in plain sight--and some less-standard pieces like the main character's entry into the fray (child services) and several twists and turns along the way. I thought the writing was a bit uneven or repetitive in spots, and I'd have loved to learn a bit more about the various fae courts and characters that were introduced. Though it made sense to hear about things from Mae and Jill's perspective as outsiders, I sometimes had trouble following who was angry at whom, or who owed fealty where.
Still, those were minor issues for me. Mae and Jill's relationship grew naturally over the arc of the story, and was sweet to follow. I liked the setting, and would love to read more in it, especially in the aftermath of fae politics at the end. But I think the book's biggest strength was that the author was willing to take chances with the plot, and hand out permanent consequences.Mae dies and gets hung on a tree in the afterlife, even though she gets better. Jill loses an eye, gets magic-vision, and straight-up kills some dudes. The girl Mae wanted to save is already dead by the time the book starts, and her rotting corpse is a supporting character. Through the whole book, the encroaching ice and snow bind what's happening in the mortal and fae worlds. I read a lot of stories where the basic theme is "all-knowing supernatural pairs with fresh innocent mortal, hijinks ensue" (not knocking that, it's a good frame). Last Car to Annwyn Station played on those stereotypes without embracing them, and came with a bittersweet message: death wins in the end, but heroism is still worth it.
Still, those were minor issues for me. Mae and Jill's relationship grew naturally over the arc of the story, and was sweet to follow. I liked the setting, and would love to read more in it, especially in the aftermath of fae politics at the end. But I think the book's biggest strength was that the author was willing to take chances with the plot, and hand out permanent consequences.
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