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phyrre 's review for:
David Mogo, Godhunter
by Suyi Davies Okungbowa
You can read my full review on my blog, The Writerly Way.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Rebellion Publishing for an eARC in exchange for an honest, unbiased review.
I have been dying for a book in which the pantheon of Orisha gods get to run amok in all their glory, and this didn’t disappoint.
David Mogo, Godhunter reinvents Lagos as a post-apocalyptic world in which the Orishas have fallen from Orun and now David Mogo (demigod, Godhunter, master of sarcasm, and now unwilling hero) must keep them from destroying Earth.
You know, as you do. While this book wasn’t quite everything I had hoped for, it was a really interesting read and full of life, culture, and fighting, which is always fun.
My Thoughts:
- This is an #ownvoices story, and it shows. Okungbowa spins a masterful portrait of a post-apocalyptic Lagos, blended with all the fierceness of the Orisha. There were so many aspects of this that I loved, and of course, this is going to be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Lagos felt real to me, some schmuck sitting in nowhere America who’s never even thought of visiting Nigeria. On the other hand, were there things I had to look up? Sure. For me, that’s part of what I love about reading about other cultures, but if you get easily annoyed at that, this will probably be more of a con.
Part of what I loved the most was the obvious code-switching in the dialogue. Nigeria is a country of many languages, and things like pidgin, English, Yoruba, and Nsibidi all make an appearance in the story. As a linguaphile, I just loved the richness this brought to the story (and also, code switching is real and beautiful but also sometimes frustrating and oh, the struggle is real and so relatable).
- At its core, David Mogo, Godhunter is a Bildungsroman for the slightly older crowd. Because we older people also deserve to find ourselves. I’m actually not sure exactly how old David Mogo is, but I’d say right around 30. So he’s not quite young, but not quite old. It’s a perfect time for self-discovery. For David Mogo, finding himself is a teensy bit harder than the rest of us, because he’s sort of a demigod fighting a war against gods and by the way, if he fails, Earth is doomed. No pressure.
- I am all about reluctant heroes, and David Mogo is about as reluctant as they come. What I loved most about David’s reluctance is that he genuinely tries to do what he figures is the right thing. But when it inevitably fails (because of course it does), man knows how to grumble. Like only a 30-ish-year-old could, because we have had practice.
- The writing is really descriptive and beautiful, and there were so many images that I just loved. It wasn’t entirely pervasive. The prose wasn’t all purpley or anything, and the majority of the book read really easily. But every now and then, there was a zinger of a line that really made me stop and think about the description, because I just loved the image it conjured and the way it sounded.
- Papa Udi is a treasure and says all the things we were all thinking. In some ways, he’s the typical mentor archetype. He’s David’s moral compass, his literal guardian, the man who’s tried to teach him what he needs to know, etc. But he’s also so much more than that. Despite being extremely old, Papa Udi doesn’t just kick back and let the youngsters handle things. He’s right there on the front lines and plays a pivotal role in the story and in the action. Old guy can hold his own.
- The magic system in this book is so nuanced and detailed. There are different kinds of magic, each unique and with its own powers and limitations. For David, obviously, being a demigod, he has considerable Godessence, which is derived from the Ashe the Yoruba have. It’s a dulled down version, though, since it’s mixed with human (gosh, we ruin everything, don’t we?). But even the Yoruba have different methods of power (you know, as you do with gods that reign over various realms) like Ibeji with their chanting and charmcasting and Sango with his lightning. For humans, there’s plenty of different charms that can be made, with a basis in charmcasting, herbs, runes, etc. I enjoyed reading all the different forms this could take.
- Can we take a second here to appreciate the Orisha, since that’s really what I came here for? They have personality, and it’s not always a good thing. If you’ve never read about the Orisha … well, for me, it’s sometimes hard to find the stories, but if you can, it’s so worth it. Talk about an interesting pantheon. What always drew me to them was that they had so much personality (much like the Greek gods) and such rich lore. This book really stayed true to that.
Sticking Points
- This book is told in three acts (Godhunter, Firebringer, and Warmonger) which all do tie into the main story, but each has its separate arcs and can be taken as their own little novellas, with time gaps in between. So to me, this book felt a bit episodic. When Firebringer and Warmonger start, it takes some time to get acclimated back to the story, which is very jarring because at that point, it’s already one- to two-thirds of the way into the dang thing. However, each opens like a new story. Not that there’s anything wrong with this particular approach, but for me, the book didn’t feel particularly cohesive.
- As beautiful as the writing is, I think there were times when it reached a little too far with the imagery, which abruptly yanked me out of the story. There were times I felt like that reading this, because some of the figurative language just caught me so off-guard and tripped me up and sounded a little wonky to me.
- I just could not, for the life of me, get into this story, and I’m not even sure why. I think maybe it was a combination of the following factors:
Exposition: There’s a lot of this. Despite being written in first person present tense, the story just didn’t feel immediate or accessible. I always felt at an arm’s length to what was going on, and I think that’s because a lot of what happened was told through exposition rather than action.
Travel: There is a lot of traveling in this, in detail. Which on the plus side, for those who love to draw mental maps, it makes it easier to understand Lagos. But for me? I don’t picture an overall setting in that much detail, so it just dragged for me and really slowed down the story, in my opinion.
Time Skips: These were jarring, and often, I felt left behind and had to reorient myself all over again.
- I don’t always understand David Mogo’s choices. They sometimes feel like they come out of nowhere, only for the purpose of driving the plot, without having any explanation for them. Case in point: early on in the book, David is tasked with what we’ll call Quest A. If Quest A fails, the world goes to crap. This is pretty well established. You’d think he’d be super motivated to make sure Quest A succeeds no matter what, right? Wrong. Instead of completing Quest A, he’s derailed early on by saving a character he’s met once.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Rebellion Publishing for an eARC in exchange for an honest, unbiased review.
I have been dying for a book in which the pantheon of Orisha gods get to run amok in all their glory, and this didn’t disappoint.
David Mogo, Godhunter reinvents Lagos as a post-apocalyptic world in which the Orishas have fallen from Orun and now David Mogo (demigod, Godhunter, master of sarcasm, and now unwilling hero) must keep them from destroying Earth.
You know, as you do. While this book wasn’t quite everything I had hoped for, it was a really interesting read and full of life, culture, and fighting, which is always fun.
My Thoughts:
- This is an #ownvoices story, and it shows. Okungbowa spins a masterful portrait of a post-apocalyptic Lagos, blended with all the fierceness of the Orisha. There were so many aspects of this that I loved, and of course, this is going to be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Lagos felt real to me, some schmuck sitting in nowhere America who’s never even thought of visiting Nigeria. On the other hand, were there things I had to look up? Sure. For me, that’s part of what I love about reading about other cultures, but if you get easily annoyed at that, this will probably be more of a con.
Part of what I loved the most was the obvious code-switching in the dialogue. Nigeria is a country of many languages, and things like pidgin, English, Yoruba, and Nsibidi all make an appearance in the story. As a linguaphile, I just loved the richness this brought to the story (and also, code switching is real and beautiful but also sometimes frustrating and oh, the struggle is real and so relatable).
- At its core, David Mogo, Godhunter is a Bildungsroman for the slightly older crowd. Because we older people also deserve to find ourselves. I’m actually not sure exactly how old David Mogo is, but I’d say right around 30. So he’s not quite young, but not quite old. It’s a perfect time for self-discovery. For David Mogo, finding himself is a teensy bit harder than the rest of us, because he’s sort of a demigod fighting a war against gods and by the way, if he fails, Earth is doomed. No pressure.
- I am all about reluctant heroes, and David Mogo is about as reluctant as they come. What I loved most about David’s reluctance is that he genuinely tries to do what he figures is the right thing. But when it inevitably fails (because of course it does), man knows how to grumble. Like only a 30-ish-year-old could, because we have had practice.
- The writing is really descriptive and beautiful, and there were so many images that I just loved. It wasn’t entirely pervasive. The prose wasn’t all purpley or anything, and the majority of the book read really easily. But every now and then, there was a zinger of a line that really made me stop and think about the description, because I just loved the image it conjured and the way it sounded.
- Papa Udi is a treasure and says all the things we were all thinking. In some ways, he’s the typical mentor archetype. He’s David’s moral compass, his literal guardian, the man who’s tried to teach him what he needs to know, etc. But he’s also so much more than that. Despite being extremely old, Papa Udi doesn’t just kick back and let the youngsters handle things. He’s right there on the front lines and plays a pivotal role in the story and in the action. Old guy can hold his own.
- The magic system in this book is so nuanced and detailed. There are different kinds of magic, each unique and with its own powers and limitations. For David, obviously, being a demigod, he has considerable Godessence, which is derived from the Ashe the Yoruba have. It’s a dulled down version, though, since it’s mixed with human (gosh, we ruin everything, don’t we?). But even the Yoruba have different methods of power (you know, as you do with gods that reign over various realms) like Ibeji with their chanting and charmcasting and Sango with his lightning. For humans, there’s plenty of different charms that can be made, with a basis in charmcasting, herbs, runes, etc. I enjoyed reading all the different forms this could take.
- Can we take a second here to appreciate the Orisha, since that’s really what I came here for? They have personality, and it’s not always a good thing. If you’ve never read about the Orisha … well, for me, it’s sometimes hard to find the stories, but if you can, it’s so worth it. Talk about an interesting pantheon. What always drew me to them was that they had so much personality (much like the Greek gods) and such rich lore. This book really stayed true to that.
Sticking Points
- This book is told in three acts (Godhunter, Firebringer, and Warmonger) which all do tie into the main story, but each has its separate arcs and can be taken as their own little novellas, with time gaps in between. So to me, this book felt a bit episodic. When Firebringer and Warmonger start, it takes some time to get acclimated back to the story, which is very jarring because at that point, it’s already one- to two-thirds of the way into the dang thing. However, each opens like a new story. Not that there’s anything wrong with this particular approach, but for me, the book didn’t feel particularly cohesive.
- As beautiful as the writing is, I think there were times when it reached a little too far with the imagery, which abruptly yanked me out of the story. There were times I felt like that reading this, because some of the figurative language just caught me so off-guard and tripped me up and sounded a little wonky to me.
- I just could not, for the life of me, get into this story, and I’m not even sure why. I think maybe it was a combination of the following factors:
Exposition: There’s a lot of this. Despite being written in first person present tense, the story just didn’t feel immediate or accessible. I always felt at an arm’s length to what was going on, and I think that’s because a lot of what happened was told through exposition rather than action.
Travel: There is a lot of traveling in this, in detail. Which on the plus side, for those who love to draw mental maps, it makes it easier to understand Lagos. But for me? I don’t picture an overall setting in that much detail, so it just dragged for me and really slowed down the story, in my opinion.
Time Skips: These were jarring, and often, I felt left behind and had to reorient myself all over again.
- I don’t always understand David Mogo’s choices. They sometimes feel like they come out of nowhere, only for the purpose of driving the plot, without having any explanation for them. Case in point: early on in the book, David is tasked with what we’ll call Quest A. If Quest A fails, the world goes to crap. This is pretty well established. You’d think he’d be super motivated to make sure Quest A succeeds no matter what, right? Wrong. Instead of completing Quest A, he’s derailed early on by saving a character he’s met once.