Scan barcode
dark_reader's reviews
683 reviews
The City of Gold and Lead by John Christopher
2.0
Less likely to bore the modern young reader that The White Mountains, it's a fine book, dated and unlikely to capture the attention of its target age now, but a worthy classic of children's dystopian science fiction.
Finally, we see directly actual hardship stemming from the domination of the tripods. Other than the low-technology society, there seemed little limitation on individual freedom or evident mind control, until such time as this book's heroes are taken to the titular city of the masters, and there, still, only a few hundred people out of multiple countries' population were affected. But in that setting, finally the truth of this series's future-past Earth is revealed.
The aliens and their city struck me as Lovecraft-light, not dissimilar to the Great Old Ones of The Shadow Out of Time crossed with The War of the Worlds' own tripod-driving beings. The narration is subdued by contemporary standards, largely factual and requiring the reader to generate any emotion. I often found myself thinking that fiction writing in general has gotten simply better over the past decades, more engaging and exciting, if this and its contemporary classics are any measure.
Not a bad series and one I picked up from a library booksale because it looked "classic" and vaguely familiar, to populate our family library with the aim of providing plenty of potentially grabbable browsing material for my children, it has sat unread for many years until I finally opted to work through many such books. I don't feel the need to sing any praises for it to my children now. If a dystopian classic is needed, I would rather steer them to John Wyndham.
Finally, we see directly actual hardship stemming from the domination of the tripods. Other than the low-technology society, there seemed little limitation on individual freedom or evident mind control, until such time as this book's heroes are taken to the titular city of the masters, and there, still, only a few hundred people out of multiple countries' population were affected. But in that setting, finally the truth of this series's future-past Earth is revealed.
The aliens and their city struck me as Lovecraft-light, not dissimilar to the Great Old Ones of The Shadow Out of Time crossed with The War of the Worlds' own tripod-driving beings. The narration is subdued by contemporary standards, largely factual and requiring the reader to generate any emotion. I often found myself thinking that fiction writing in general has gotten simply better over the past decades, more engaging and exciting, if this and its contemporary classics are any measure.
Not a bad series and one I picked up from a library booksale because it looked "classic" and vaguely familiar, to populate our family library with the aim of providing plenty of potentially grabbable browsing material for my children, it has sat unread for many years until I finally opted to work through many such books. I don't feel the need to sing any praises for it to my children now. If a dystopian classic is needed, I would rather steer them to John Wyndham.
Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews
(Panels above are from Paper Girls, Volume 3. Use the desktop site to see them.)
I read this despite not being a pre-teen-to-teenaged girl nor it currently being the 1980s. For decades I have heard vague things about this book, purely salacious rumours of specific events, and I pegged it as one of those every generation pieces of popular taboo fiction that crop up regularly, like Mandingo, The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, or later Fifty Shades of Grey or Unhinged.
Dear Reader, I was shocked and elated to find that it was not like those things. It is a literary masterpiece.
V.C. Andrews' first novel and one of only seven she wrote (the other 95 are not hers, it's just some guy writing under her name; everyone knows this now, right? A coworker a few years ago was unaware, but it's not like she read the books, simply knew their ubiquitous and endless appearance in grocery stores,) this is truly a gothic powerhouse. The only criticism I formed was that dialogue was very much of the type from movies and TV of yore and not realistic (while beautiful), but I realize that's part of the style.
The Dollanganger children's situation is bizarre but completely logical and consistent in the book's context. The story is anything but salacious; its reputation as "the teenage incest book" is technically accurate but the reality is nothing like I expected. There are a few odd things early in part 2 that made me think it was going off the rails: (view spoiler). But in a wider view this was all in keeping with a sharp decline in the protagonists' coping ability and was perfectly placed to keep a long story engaging, with no lulls in sight. It's amazing how engaging the book is, with such a limited setting.
With beautiful language and genuine emotion in an impossible situation, this book is impossible to forget. It's a deeply felt tale of intergenerational trauma and cycles of abuse, narcissism, parentification, and no part of it is cheap or taudry. It's a legitimate modern classic.
5.0
(Panels above are from Paper Girls, Volume 3. Use the desktop site to see them.)
I read this despite not being a pre-teen-to-teenaged girl nor it currently being the 1980s. For decades I have heard vague things about this book, purely salacious rumours of specific events, and I pegged it as one of those every generation pieces of popular taboo fiction that crop up regularly, like Mandingo, The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, or later Fifty Shades of Grey or Unhinged.
Dear Reader, I was shocked and elated to find that it was not like those things. It is a literary masterpiece.
V.C. Andrews' first novel and one of only seven she wrote (the other 95 are not hers, it's just some guy writing under her name; everyone knows this now, right? A coworker a few years ago was unaware, but it's not like she read the books, simply knew their ubiquitous and endless appearance in grocery stores,) this is truly a gothic powerhouse. The only criticism I formed was that dialogue was very much of the type from movies and TV of yore and not realistic (while beautiful), but I realize that's part of the style.
The Dollanganger children's situation is bizarre but completely logical and consistent in the book's context. The story is anything but salacious; its reputation as "the teenage incest book" is technically accurate but the reality is nothing like I expected. There are a few odd things early in part 2 that made me think it was going off the rails: (view spoiler). But in a wider view this was all in keeping with a sharp decline in the protagonists' coping ability and was perfectly placed to keep a long story engaging, with no lulls in sight. It's amazing how engaging the book is, with such a limited setting.
With beautiful language and genuine emotion in an impossible situation, this book is impossible to forget. It's a deeply felt tale of intergenerational trauma and cycles of abuse, narcissism, parentification, and no part of it is cheap or taudry. It's a legitimate modern classic.
The Legend of Rah and the Muggles by N.K. Stouffer
Got that? What, you need a picture? Fine, but first I want to show a picture of the print layout next to a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone so you'll understand how padded the page count is:
And now, please enjoy a sample of the artwork included in every copy of The Legend of RahTM and the MugglesTM:
Are they . . . polishing a mushroom? Anyway, my copy of the book, purchased second-hand from Thriftbooks, came with a photocopy of a 2001 news article ("Harry, meet Larry Potter in a battle of the muggles"), reporting the claims of similarities but obviously published before Stouffer was laughed out of court to the tune of $50,000. I entertain the thought that Stouffer herself inserted one of these articles into every copy that went out into the world. Teach the controversy, that'll do it!
In conclusion, I love everything about this book. Just like Antigua: The Land of Fairies, Wizards and Heroes, it's a thoroughly, undeniably stupid book, written for children by an idiot who thinks children are morons, and the result is pure comedy gold.
5.0
How to Lose $50,000 in Two Easy Steps
There's the story, and there's the story behind the story. Both are hilariously awful. The stupid, it burns.
Maybe you've heard of this book, first self-published in some form in 1984, or its author who in 1999 tried to sue J.K. Rowling for copyright and trademark infringement over use of the word "Muggles" and other matters. This was in between Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and who wouldn't have wanted a slice of that sweet Potter pie? Unfortunately for Nancy Stouffer—I'm sorry, that's "N.K." Stouffer on her republished books by sheer coincidence, I'm sure—her claims were prima facie absurd. But for a time, the lore tells us that Rowling was "fretting so much over this one stupid case that it’s kept her from finishing her latest book," making Stouffer probably the most hated woman in publishing for a time. My, how the tables have turned.
Anyway, Stouffer was found to have falsified promotional materials for her prior self-published material, in an attempt to bolster her claim that Rowling must have seen her work and stolen her ideas, and was sanctioned $50,000 in a summary judgment by the court, so that was the end of that. There's a nice one-page summary of the affair here: http://nielsenhayden.com/makinglight/...
I particularly enjoyed this detail from the legal judgment (https://www.eyrie.org/~robotech/stouf...), because I was already ready to say that if Stouffer had ever sold even three copies of The Legend of RahTM prior to her claims of infringement, I would eat a Real MuggleTM :
There's the story, and there's the story behind the story. Both are hilariously awful. The stupid, it burns.
Maybe you've heard of this book, first self-published in some form in 1984, or its author who in 1999 tried to sue J.K. Rowling for copyright and trademark infringement over use of the word "Muggles" and other matters. This was in between Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and who wouldn't have wanted a slice of that sweet Potter pie? Unfortunately for Nancy Stouffer—I'm sorry, that's "N.K." Stouffer on her republished books by sheer coincidence, I'm sure—her claims were prima facie absurd. But for a time, the lore tells us that Rowling was "fretting so much over this one stupid case that it’s kept her from finishing her latest book," making Stouffer probably the most hated woman in publishing for a time. My, how the tables have turned.
Anyway, Stouffer was found to have falsified promotional materials for her prior self-published material, in an attempt to bolster her claim that Rowling must have seen her work and stolen her ideas, and was sanctioned $50,000 in a summary judgment by the court, so that was the end of that. There's a nice one-page summary of the affair here: http://nielsenhayden.com/makinglight/...
I particularly enjoyed this detail from the legal judgment (https://www.eyrie.org/~robotech/stouf...), because I was already ready to say that if Stouffer had ever sold even three copies of The Legend of RahTM prior to her claims of infringement, I would eat a Real MuggleTM :
It is undisputed that Ande [the publishing company Stouffer created for her own work] never sold any of its booklets in the United States or elsewhere.
Sounds about right!
Another hilarious fact: Ottenheimer Publishers of Maryland was in business for 111 years before they republished Stouffer's The Legend of RahTM and the MugglesTM and other books of hers (under the created-just-for-this Thurman House imprint), capitalizing on the publicity surrounding the legal claims. Within the following year they went bankrupt and closed forever, by sheer coincidence I'm sure.
So, about the book: it's stupid. So, so stupid. If I may paraphrase Fran Lebowitz, you have not read any book as stupid as The Legend of RahTM and the MugglesTM. You just haven't.
It's for children. Do you hate children? Do you want children to grow up stupid? Then by all means, read them this book. Hey, do you know what makes a great foundation for a children's story? Nuclear fucking war, that's what.
From the very first page, the first paragraph, the first sentence, this book has you asking, "What the fuck are you talking about?" Try it for yourself:
Another hilarious fact: Ottenheimer Publishers of Maryland was in business for 111 years before they republished Stouffer's The Legend of RahTM and the MugglesTM and other books of hers (under the created-just-for-this Thurman House imprint), capitalizing on the publicity surrounding the legal claims. Within the following year they went bankrupt and closed forever, by sheer coincidence I'm sure.
So, about the book: it's stupid. So, so stupid. If I may paraphrase Fran Lebowitz, you have not read any book as stupid as The Legend of RahTM and the MugglesTM. You just haven't.
It's for children. Do you hate children? Do you want children to grow up stupid? Then by all means, read them this book. Hey, do you know what makes a great foundation for a children's story? Nuclear fucking war, that's what.
From the very first page, the first paragraph, the first sentence, this book has you asking, "What the fuck are you talking about?" Try it for yourself:
On the far side of the earth, Aura citizens fought great wars with other nations. They had lived a relatively peaceful coexistence until government representatives became restless and greedy. The need for power and control seemed to spread throughout the Congress of United People, C.O.U.P., like a disease out of control. The discord caused great unrest within the colonies. Absent any real or decisive leadership, citizens gathered arms and formed militia groups.
These splinter revolutionaries were determined to reclaim democracy, . . .
"Please, sir, I want some more" said no child ever. The commentary writes itself. On the far side of the earth from where? What government representatives? Colonies from where? What the fuck are you talking about? I particularly enjoy the presumably unironic United Nations stand-in abbreviated "coup".
You don't even have to read the first page time to appreciate this book's insane stupidity. The copyright page alone does that. Stouffer, in her ill-guided, extremely expensive attempt at legal maneuvering, tries to trademark everything under the sun (I regret that I can't make superscript work here for all the "TM" markings, but you'll get the idea):
You don't even have to read the first page time to appreciate this book's insane stupidity. The copyright page alone does that. Stouffer, in her ill-guided, extremely expensive attempt at legal maneuvering, tries to trademark everything under the sun (I regret that I can't make superscript work here for all the "TM" markings, but you'll get the idea):
MUGGLEtm, MUGGLEStm, MUGGLES-BYEtm, and The Legend of RAH and the MUGGLEStm, MUGGLEDOMEtm [NB: term not in book], MUGGLEPLICATIONtm [NB: term not in book], SHADOW MONSTERStm, NEVILtm, NEVILStm, NARDLEStm, GREEBLIEStm, NADIE [sic, different spelling from in book] & NEDDIE SPOONERS OF THE DEEPtm, WINKLEtm, ELDERStm, RAHtm, ZYNtm
Y'all better not ever use the words "elders" or "shadow monsters" in y'all's books, or Nancy Stouffer's gonna git ya!
But if for some reason you continue reading, it gets even worse. Chapter One (the previous example is from the introduction which is actually a prologue) is a run-on, bloated, terrible regency romance between Lady Catherine and her butler, Walter, after her husband dies while she's pregant with twins, with a confusing timeline that begins and ends with unspeficied enemy soldiers breaking down the palace doors, in a conflict that Lady Catherine is sure will end with nuclear weapons. Note: this is a completely different use of nuclear weapons from the introduction, which happened several hundred years prior and let to the creation of MugglesTM. You know, for kids.
Chapter Two is way stupider, and Chapter Three is even stupider than that, and oh by the way after that first 45-page long first chapter, do we ever hear about Lady Catherine and Walter and will these crazy kids be able to make it after all? We do not. We do not, in fact, ever hear again about any crucial story element once introduced.
Chapter Four is, once again, the stupidest yet to come, and so forth and so forth. I could provide countless examples, but I would hate to spoil it and encourage you to read it for yourself if you're at all inclined to read the worst thing you've ever read. I happen to find joy in such things. Yay, me. But really, it's all so, so dumb. Like, this land (country? continent? archipelago?) of Aura, devastated by nuclear weapons whose radiation transformed humans into MugglesTM over centuries, has
But if for some reason you continue reading, it gets even worse. Chapter One (the previous example is from the introduction which is actually a prologue) is a run-on, bloated, terrible regency romance between Lady Catherine and her butler, Walter, after her husband dies while she's pregant with twins, with a confusing timeline that begins and ends with unspeficied enemy soldiers breaking down the palace doors, in a conflict that Lady Catherine is sure will end with nuclear weapons. Note: this is a completely different use of nuclear weapons from the introduction, which happened several hundred years prior and let to the creation of MugglesTM. You know, for kids.
Chapter Two is way stupider, and Chapter Three is even stupider than that, and oh by the way after that first 45-page long first chapter, do we ever hear about Lady Catherine and Walter and will these crazy kids be able to make it after all? We do not. We do not, in fact, ever hear again about any crucial story element once introduced.
Chapter Four is, once again, the stupidest yet to come, and so forth and so forth. I could provide countless examples, but I would hate to spoil it and encourage you to read it for yourself if you're at all inclined to read the worst thing you've ever read. I happen to find joy in such things. Yay, me. But really, it's all so, so dumb. Like, this land (country? continent? archipelago?) of Aura, devastated by nuclear weapons whose radiation transformed humans into MugglesTM over centuries, has
never experienced the warmth of sunlight, nor the beauty of an evening sky filled with glittering stars. Their world is lit only by moonlight shining through a purple haze left behind by nuclear warfare.
So the planet became tidal-locked because of nuclear war? What? But a box of jewels comes to them on a raft, carried between two babies floating on the ocean for over a week without sustenance (and if I know anything about babies, it's that they survive perfectly well without food or water for days on end), and somehow these jewels absorbed the power of the sun and as they approach the MugglesTM's land it gives off heat sufficient to instantly warm the air and light to instantly cause trees and shrubs that survived and grew without sunlight for centuries in a nuclear wasteland (where squirrels and rabbits and lion-sized dogs and birds managed to survive just fine along with the MugglesTM) to burst into leaves but somehow doesn't fry these babies to a crisp or permanently blind them. The MugglesTMplace the sunlight-giving jewel box on top of the Tower of Time which by the way is shaped like a pyramid, as towers tend to be, but now the story talks all the time about sunrises and sunsets and the MugglesTM have always had songs and poems and stories that specifically reference day/night cycles and how the fuck is any of this supposed to make any sense. And this is just the start of it! So many more stupid things follow! Like the sheet music at the back of the book for the MugglesTM traditional bedtime song that indicates 4/4 time but has measures that are 10/4 or 1/4 and is just an awful song with terrible lyrics and you bet your ass I'm going to play it.
I know you've been wondering all this time, what is a MuggleTM, if not a non-magical person? I'll let the completely necessary character glossary from the back matter answer that:
I know you've been wondering all this time, what is a MuggleTM, if not a non-magical person? I'll let the completely necessary character glossary from the back matter answer that:
MUGGLES, Humans left behind on Aura, the Forgotten People, conscientious objectors, sick and diseased, physically challenged, elderly, blind, deaf, savants, dwarfs, earning disabled [sic], the Have Not's [sic]. They became genetically mutated humans, hybrid humans, resemble children when fully grown, large hairless hears [sic], tiny ears, large oval eyes, eyelids with no eyelashes, blue, violet, brown and gree [sic], lump cheeks [sic?], narrow shoulders, thin arms chubby hands [sic], three fingers and one thumb, no fingernails, thin legs, chubby feet, four toes, no toenails, round plump bellies, half-moon shaped belly button, height: 3'-4', weight: 45-90 lbs., skin color: white, brown, beige or olive, vegetarians.
Got that? What, you need a picture? Fine, but first I want to show a picture of the print layout next to a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone so you'll understand how padded the page count is:
And now, please enjoy a sample of the artwork included in every copy of The Legend of RahTM and the MugglesTM:
Are they . . . polishing a mushroom? Anyway, my copy of the book, purchased second-hand from Thriftbooks, came with a photocopy of a 2001 news article ("Harry, meet Larry Potter in a battle of the muggles"), reporting the claims of similarities but obviously published before Stouffer was laughed out of court to the tune of $50,000. I entertain the thought that Stouffer herself inserted one of these articles into every copy that went out into the world. Teach the controversy, that'll do it!
In conclusion, I love everything about this book. Just like Antigua: The Land of Fairies, Wizards and Heroes, it's a thoroughly, undeniably stupid book, written for children by an idiot who thinks children are morons, and the result is pure comedy gold.
Blood Over Bright Haven by M.L. Wang
2.0
Going against the grain here. I won't deny anyone else their enjoyment and I see why this book is so well received. It's written very well, the story is polished and flows well from start to finish, and it has a deservedly satisfying outcome, especially if you want to see power structures smashed a la Iron Widow. Plus, props for making it an actual standalone fantasy novel.
I found it all cliche and predictable.
Opens with a magic school audition, closes with a courtroom scene, with no real surprises in between except for the appearance of the Batmobile. Was there ever any doubt that (spoiler for the book's mid-point and then vaguely the end) (view spoiler) or that (view spoiler)?
Sanderson-worthy detailed magic system, with opportunities for the main character to explain it in full to non-practitioners, elementary style, for multiple pages. Yes, it serves the story, but it also felt like Sufficiently Advanced Magic crossed with grammar-based magic from The Long Price quartet (A Shadow in Summer) and while this isn't a bad thing it felt very much like, "main characters explains the magic system," for multiple pages. This was balanced at the back end by character arguments that went on for pages without actual story progress, unless "this guy's a dick about everything" becoming, "this guy's also a dick about this additional specific thing," counts as progress.
Those are relatively minor annoyances. My biggest issue with the book is simply how in-your-face the themes are. I appreciate how the book reflects paternalism and misogyny, racism, climate destruction, demolishing native cultures, religious hypocrisy, medical sexism—but did it have to be so blatant and on the nose about it all? There's zero subtlety or nuance to any of it. The men are so explicitly paternalistic and dismissive they're caricatures of themselves ("I guess it's her time of the month, hur hur"). The Kwen as an oppressed class are practically a cartoonish depiction of such. The whole societal construction is so plain jane about all its evils in support of "progress" I have to think it's geared to people who don't already see that these things are bad. We know it's bad to say women are hysterical and incapable of emotional control. We know it's bad to decimate native cultures and force the survivors into sub-par living conditions and debased labour. We know destroying the environment to sustain modern comforts is bad. I can't find anything in the book taking this discussion beyond that level. I accept that other readers may find catharsis in the idea of simply smashing the system apart. It did nothing of the sort for me.
My feeling is that this book will appeal more to readers who also enjoy YA and NA fantasy fiction. The kissing scene sealed this.
On a positive note, at least the book wasn't ruined by unnecessarily italicized dialogue, except on pages 12-14.
I found it all cliche and predictable.
Opens with a magic school audition, closes with a courtroom scene, with no real surprises in between except for the appearance of the Batmobile. Was there ever any doubt that (spoiler for the book's mid-point and then vaguely the end) (view spoiler) or that (view spoiler)?
Sanderson-worthy detailed magic system, with opportunities for the main character to explain it in full to non-practitioners, elementary style, for multiple pages. Yes, it serves the story, but it also felt like Sufficiently Advanced Magic crossed with grammar-based magic from The Long Price quartet (A Shadow in Summer) and while this isn't a bad thing it felt very much like, "main characters explains the magic system," for multiple pages. This was balanced at the back end by character arguments that went on for pages without actual story progress, unless "this guy's a dick about everything" becoming, "this guy's also a dick about this additional specific thing," counts as progress.
Those are relatively minor annoyances. My biggest issue with the book is simply how in-your-face the themes are. I appreciate how the book reflects paternalism and misogyny, racism, climate destruction, demolishing native cultures, religious hypocrisy, medical sexism—but did it have to be so blatant and on the nose about it all? There's zero subtlety or nuance to any of it. The men are so explicitly paternalistic and dismissive they're caricatures of themselves ("I guess it's her time of the month, hur hur"). The Kwen as an oppressed class are practically a cartoonish depiction of such. The whole societal construction is so plain jane about all its evils in support of "progress" I have to think it's geared to people who don't already see that these things are bad. We know it's bad to say women are hysterical and incapable of emotional control. We know it's bad to decimate native cultures and force the survivors into sub-par living conditions and debased labour. We know destroying the environment to sustain modern comforts is bad. I can't find anything in the book taking this discussion beyond that level. I accept that other readers may find catharsis in the idea of simply smashing the system apart. It did nothing of the sort for me.
My feeling is that this book will appeal more to readers who also enjoy YA and NA fantasy fiction. The kissing scene sealed this.
On a positive note, at least the book wasn't ruined by unnecessarily italicized dialogue, except on pages 12-14.
Cormyr by Jeff Grubb, Ed Greenwood
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
1.0
This could have been good.
Co-authored by Jeff Grubb and Ed Greenwood. When I saw this, I thought, "Please let it be actually written by Grubb, based on Greenwood's concept and that's the only reason why Greenwood got co-billing," but no. It was written half and half. By chapter 4 I'd figured out the pattern: the book alternates chapters between a "present day" storyline and a series of chronological vignettes highlighting key points in the formation and growth of the human kingdom of Cormyr, from a time when the land was ruled by dragons, to the time of the elves, to the earliest human settlements that eventually grew into a proper kingdom, always ruled by the Obarskyr line and supported by a wizard.
The "past" chapters were quite good. Grubb was one of the better TSR staple writers, responsible along with his wife Kate Novak for Azure Bonds, The Wyvern's Spur and others. These linked short stories were varied, fun, and reasonably poignant.
The "present day" storyline was bloated and interminable. Greenwood is in his usual form here with his relentlessly irritating Renaissance Faire style, with the same stock weeping hero and sneering villain personalities that appear in all of his books. Vangerdahast is less bombastic than Elminster but otherwise there's not much space between them. Every magical secret has to have seven layers to it, every scabby noble is overconfident and easily manipulated, and almost every one of his chapters could have been cut. So much time wasted on gossip, incessantly sobbing princesses, shadowy plotting, and goofy unnecessary heroics by third-tier characters. On one level I enjoy how terrible Greenwood's books are, but in the moment they are mostly unbearable.
Or should I say, un-Baerauble? That's just one of hundreds of overwrought character names. Names like Faerlthann Obarskyr; Vangerdahast; the sword Ansrivarr; Darlutheene Ambershields; Blaerla Roaringhorn. At one point the names of 23 noble houses appeared on a single page. It's indistinguishable from Antigua: The Land of Fairies, Wizards and Heroes for the sheer number of named characters and the excessive vowels and awkward letter R in many of them. You might think that since the book covers multiple time periods that of course there would be many characters, but the biggest culprit is simply Greenwood's present time chapters.
There's an easy way to fix this book: limit the present-time chapters to three, five at most. Open with the king having fallen victim to the deadly magical illness; use that to frame the chapters that move through Cormyr's history. Have just one or a couple chapters as interludes detailing the major events in the kingdom brought on by the king's looming expected death. Then when the historical chapters catch up to present time, resolve the story. Greenwood could even still write those parts and it would be tolerable (not that he's shows any ability to write succinctly as this would require).
But no, instead we get by far the longest TSR Forgotten Realms novel up to that point, surpassed only by Evermeet: Island of Elves three years later. Those 100 pages really could have been cut.
At least the next book in my Forgotten Realms novel reading project is one by R.A. Salvatore, the only one in a four-year span because Brian Thomsen alienated most of TSR's writers. If only Ed Greenwood had had anywhere else to go.
Co-authored by Jeff Grubb and Ed Greenwood. When I saw this, I thought, "Please let it be actually written by Grubb, based on Greenwood's concept and that's the only reason why Greenwood got co-billing," but no. It was written half and half. By chapter 4 I'd figured out the pattern: the book alternates chapters between a "present day" storyline and a series of chronological vignettes highlighting key points in the formation and growth of the human kingdom of Cormyr, from a time when the land was ruled by dragons, to the time of the elves, to the earliest human settlements that eventually grew into a proper kingdom, always ruled by the Obarskyr line and supported by a wizard.
The "past" chapters were quite good. Grubb was one of the better TSR staple writers, responsible along with his wife Kate Novak for Azure Bonds, The Wyvern's Spur and others. These linked short stories were varied, fun, and reasonably poignant.
The "present day" storyline was bloated and interminable. Greenwood is in his usual form here with his relentlessly irritating Renaissance Faire style, with the same stock weeping hero and sneering villain personalities that appear in all of his books. Vangerdahast is less bombastic than Elminster but otherwise there's not much space between them. Every magical secret has to have seven layers to it, every scabby noble is overconfident and easily manipulated, and almost every one of his chapters could have been cut. So much time wasted on gossip, incessantly sobbing princesses, shadowy plotting, and goofy unnecessary heroics by third-tier characters. On one level I enjoy how terrible Greenwood's books are, but in the moment they are mostly unbearable.
Or should I say, un-Baerauble? That's just one of hundreds of overwrought character names. Names like Faerlthann Obarskyr; Vangerdahast; the sword Ansrivarr; Darlutheene Ambershields; Blaerla Roaringhorn. At one point the names of 23 noble houses appeared on a single page. It's indistinguishable from Antigua: The Land of Fairies, Wizards and Heroes for the sheer number of named characters and the excessive vowels and awkward letter R in many of them. You might think that since the book covers multiple time periods that of course there would be many characters, but the biggest culprit is simply Greenwood's present time chapters.
There's an easy way to fix this book: limit the present-time chapters to three, five at most. Open with the king having fallen victim to the deadly magical illness; use that to frame the chapters that move through Cormyr's history. Have just one or a couple chapters as interludes detailing the major events in the kingdom brought on by the king's looming expected death. Then when the historical chapters catch up to present time, resolve the story. Greenwood could even still write those parts and it would be tolerable (not that he's shows any ability to write succinctly as this would require).
But no, instead we get by far the longest TSR Forgotten Realms novel up to that point, surpassed only by Evermeet: Island of Elves three years later. Those 100 pages really could have been cut.
At least the next book in my Forgotten Realms novel reading project is one by R.A. Salvatore, the only one in a four-year span because Brian Thomsen alienated most of TSR's writers. If only Ed Greenwood had had anywhere else to go.
Leviathan Wakes by James S.A. Corey
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
I'm a big fan of Daniel Abraham's fantasy novels and despite general interest in this nine book series he co-wrote (with Ty Franck, who really needs a better bio than "George R.R. Martin's assistant"), it took finding a copy of this first book on a library discard cart, plus a year of it sitting in my basement, before I finally took the plunge.
It's a very good character-focused story. The science fiction setting is well thought out, but don't expect "hard" sci-fi because ultimately the details take a back seat to the emotional storytelling. Told in alternating chapters with two POV characters, it's a very human story with space trappings. At times it felt perhaps too character-focused: while broader events were well-reported and affected by the characters' actions and vice-versa, I sometimes wanted more immersion into the system-wide conflicts going on in the background. I expect this will be relieved if I continue the series, in which new POV characters are central in future volumes, presumably expanding the readers experience of ... the Expanse.
A couple of side notes from my reading experience:
Although the two-author collaboration behind “James SA Corey” was never secret, the book’s dedication, acknowledgements, and author interview are all written from the first person singular. This is odd.
I was struck by the insertion of past and current cultural references into the future setting, without fictional future references for the characters to also draw on. There was highly specific reference to Don Quixote (1605) and Dune (1965, but with film adaptations up to 2024 so far). It's not stated how far in the future The Expanse takes place but it must be at least 300 years from now. Were there no memorable or culturally significant books or movies or other media created during that time that would supersede these for the book's characters? It felt like the equivalent of references to Gilgamesh and Charlie Chaplin in the present time, things are remembered but not precisely go-to cultural touchpoints today.
I know that invented future references would be generally meaningless to the reader, like if instead of saying, "That's the name of Don Quixote's horse," it was, "That's the name of Glorbfawn's spacecaster," that would be stupid. But it still struck me as odd and anachronistic. At least the book wasn't inundated with these, like reportedly Artemis is, but it still took an active choice to move on from this issue and resume my reading enjoyment. Then Hieronymus Bosch (1450-1516) came into the characters' thoughts, and I was like, come on. To be fair, it was offset in one sequence by character memories of a song from a children's TV show from their own lifetimes.
They're good references, meaningfully used, but it was still odd.
It's a very good character-focused story. The science fiction setting is well thought out, but don't expect "hard" sci-fi because ultimately the details take a back seat to the emotional storytelling. Told in alternating chapters with two POV characters, it's a very human story with space trappings. At times it felt perhaps too character-focused: while broader events were well-reported and affected by the characters' actions and vice-versa, I sometimes wanted more immersion into the system-wide conflicts going on in the background. I expect this will be relieved if I continue the series, in which new POV characters are central in future volumes, presumably expanding the readers experience of ... the Expanse.
A couple of side notes from my reading experience:
Although the two-author collaboration behind “James SA Corey” was never secret, the book’s dedication, acknowledgements, and author interview are all written from the first person singular. This is odd.
I was struck by the insertion of past and current cultural references into the future setting, without fictional future references for the characters to also draw on. There was highly specific reference to Don Quixote (1605) and Dune (1965, but with film adaptations up to 2024 so far). It's not stated how far in the future The Expanse takes place but it must be at least 300 years from now. Were there no memorable or culturally significant books or movies or other media created during that time that would supersede these for the book's characters? It felt like the equivalent of references to Gilgamesh and Charlie Chaplin in the present time, things are remembered but not precisely go-to cultural touchpoints today.
I know that invented future references would be generally meaningless to the reader, like if instead of saying, "That's the name of Don Quixote's horse," it was, "That's the name of Glorbfawn's spacecaster," that would be stupid. But it still struck me as odd and anachronistic. At least the book wasn't inundated with these, like reportedly Artemis is, but it still took an active choice to move on from this issue and resume my reading enjoyment. Then Hieronymus Bosch (1450-1516) came into the characters' thoughts, and I was like, come on. To be fair, it was offset in one sequence by character memories of a song from a children's TV show from their own lifetimes.
They're good references, meaningfully used, but it was still odd.
Return of the Deep Ones and Other Mythos Tales by Brian Lumley
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
4.0
<blockquote>"Oh?" He peered up at the grille. "It's not so very long ago that they used to test a woman for pregnancy by injecting a female frog with her urine. If the frog spawned, the woman was pregnant. It actually works."</blockquote> IT'S FUCKING TRUE!!! I was like, what the hell, is this for real? It is! WTF science?
This is one of many collections of Brian Lumley's various shorter works, usually Cthulhu Mythos-related or at least arguably so. As I'm reading through the books I've collected of his I've been encountering repetition. This has become mildly irritating, but not all that long ago it was much more difficult than now to dig up his stories, often published in small quantities and relatively obscure periodicals. Fortunately, even his rarest stories are likely available in e-book format now, so anyone can become a Lumley completionist if they are so inclined.
My rating for this book is solely for the titular <i>Return of the Deep Ones</i>, which before this 1994 collection from Roc was only printed as a three-part serial in 1984. The other gem of this collection is the novella [b:Beneath the Moors|1862250|Beneath the Moors|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1246503089l/1862250._SX50_.jpg|51961098], published on its own in 1974 with only 4000 copies. <i>Inception</i> and <i>Lord of the Worms</i> are more recent and were published in [b:The Compleat Crow|1862256|The Compleat Crow|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1329521623l/1862256._SY75_.jpg|1862961], the latter also in [b:The Taint and Other Novellas|757068|The Taint and Other Novellas (Best Mythos Tales)|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1387748179l/757068._SY75_.jpg|743181]. I'm going to have to buy that one at some point, along with [b:Haggopian and Other Stories|2248359|Haggopian and Other Stories|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1266669735l/2248359._SX50_.jpg|2254235], to further complete my own Lumley experience since there are some stories in each of those I don't yet own in another format, most notably <i>The Sister City</i>, one of his very earliest stories which was later expanded to become Beneath the Moors and previously only seen in an obscure 1969 Arkham House publication.
As for that Deep Ones novella: good stuff! It's a worthy British sequel to Lovecraft's <i>Shadows over Innsmouth</i>, drawing on [b:The Call of Cthulhu|15730101|The Call of Cthulhu|H.P. Lovecraft|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1567470807l/15730101._SX50_.jpg|6750943] and [b:At the Mountains of Madness|32767|At the Mountains of Madness|H.P. Lovecraft|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388341769l/32767._SY75_.jpg|17342821] as well, and an engaging horror story even if you haven't read the source material. It is marred only by the insertion of another short story of Lumley's as a chapter, <i>Haggopian</i> (which first appeared in 1973 in <i>Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction</i>). I've already seen Lumley slot an existing short story into a longer work with [b:The Burrowers Beneath|1862255|The Burrowers Beneath (Titus Crow #1)|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1426195388l/1862255._SY75_.jpg|864965], and here at least it seems self-indulgent since it doesn't notably contribute to this story. Rather, it takes something away because the topic of its horror is barely tangentially related. I would have been more impressed if he had simply used the same journalist character as an easter egg (a term that antedates this book, certainly) for die-hard fans to discover. But, Lumley has called Haggopian "one of my personal favourites," so I'll let this go.
This is one of many collections of Brian Lumley's various shorter works, usually Cthulhu Mythos-related or at least arguably so. As I'm reading through the books I've collected of his I've been encountering repetition. This has become mildly irritating, but not all that long ago it was much more difficult than now to dig up his stories, often published in small quantities and relatively obscure periodicals. Fortunately, even his rarest stories are likely available in e-book format now, so anyone can become a Lumley completionist if they are so inclined.
My rating for this book is solely for the titular <i>Return of the Deep Ones</i>, which before this 1994 collection from Roc was only printed as a three-part serial in 1984. The other gem of this collection is the novella [b:Beneath the Moors|1862250|Beneath the Moors|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1246503089l/1862250._SX50_.jpg|51961098], published on its own in 1974 with only 4000 copies. <i>Inception</i> and <i>Lord of the Worms</i> are more recent and were published in [b:The Compleat Crow|1862256|The Compleat Crow|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1329521623l/1862256._SY75_.jpg|1862961], the latter also in [b:The Taint and Other Novellas|757068|The Taint and Other Novellas (Best Mythos Tales)|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1387748179l/757068._SY75_.jpg|743181]. I'm going to have to buy that one at some point, along with [b:Haggopian and Other Stories|2248359|Haggopian and Other Stories|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1266669735l/2248359._SX50_.jpg|2254235], to further complete my own Lumley experience since there are some stories in each of those I don't yet own in another format, most notably <i>The Sister City</i>, one of his very earliest stories which was later expanded to become Beneath the Moors and previously only seen in an obscure 1969 Arkham House publication.
As for that Deep Ones novella: good stuff! It's a worthy British sequel to Lovecraft's <i>Shadows over Innsmouth</i>, drawing on [b:The Call of Cthulhu|15730101|The Call of Cthulhu|H.P. Lovecraft|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1567470807l/15730101._SX50_.jpg|6750943] and [b:At the Mountains of Madness|32767|At the Mountains of Madness|H.P. Lovecraft|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388341769l/32767._SY75_.jpg|17342821] as well, and an engaging horror story even if you haven't read the source material. It is marred only by the insertion of another short story of Lumley's as a chapter, <i>Haggopian</i> (which first appeared in 1973 in <i>Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction</i>). I've already seen Lumley slot an existing short story into a longer work with [b:The Burrowers Beneath|1862255|The Burrowers Beneath (Titus Crow #1)|Brian Lumley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1426195388l/1862255._SY75_.jpg|864965], and here at least it seems self-indulgent since it doesn't notably contribute to this story. Rather, it takes something away because the topic of its horror is barely tangentially related. I would have been more impressed if he had simply used the same journalist character as an easter egg (a term that antedates this book, certainly) for die-hard fans to discover. But, Lumley has called Haggopian "one of my personal favourites," so I'll let this go.
Bury Your Gays by Chuck Tingle
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
I thought the author's prior [book:Camp Damascus|61884782] was fine, but this book knocked it out of the park. It's a delightfully chilling and timely commentary on the struggle between creativity and capitalism, gaywashing, inclusion, AI, creative rights, celebrity, and it proves that love is real.
It's both deeply personal and wildly original. You don't have to look far to find parts that reflect Tingle talking about his own life while applying equally well to the lived experience of all. As for the horror elements, I thought I had a handle on the overall picture from the first chapter. I was wrong. But the joy didn't end when the source of horror was revealed, that was just the beginning of the fun, and new powerful and pointed moments continue to hit through to the last page. My single favourite moment has to be—I can't say anything specific without spoiling it, but it was a supremely apt and hilarious and glorious beat.
Plenty of moments of terror, plenty of gore, plenty of emotional and authentic experiences, this is not for the faint of heart. But neither is life.
It's both deeply personal and wildly original. You don't have to look far to find parts that reflect Tingle talking about his own life while applying equally well to the lived experience of all. As for the horror elements, I thought I had a handle on the overall picture from the first chapter. I was wrong. But the joy didn't end when the source of horror was revealed, that was just the beginning of the fun, and new powerful and pointed moments continue to hit through to the last page. My single favourite moment has to be—I can't say anything specific without spoiling it, but it was a supremely apt and hilarious and glorious beat.
Plenty of moments of terror, plenty of gore, plenty of emotional and authentic experiences, this is not for the faint of heart. But neither is life.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Gore and Blood
The White Mountains by John Christopher
3.0
I picked up this series of paperbacks long ago at a friends-of-library book sale because they looked classic and vaguely familiar, and suitable for seeding my home library with things for my kids to possibly discover. That hasn't happened (and not likely to now) and my own reading has been overdue.
Its closest comparison is The Chrysalids, published a decade earlier and far superior in terms of mid-20th century dystopian sci-fi for young readers. The White Mountains still has its qualities, however. It's not hard to picture it taught in school, in a time and place that this somewhat bland British boys' journey was deemed sufficient for such. It has a simplicity to it but will still test early reading comprehension, such as identifying the scientific concepts and technologies that "Beanpole" is rediscovering. At the same time it lends itself to a depth of character analysis and discussion suitable to primary school readers. This doesn't mean characters are engaging, just that they bear discussion, like why the reader thinks the narrating main character is such a petty, jealous, self-centered whiner who is chronically ungrateful for his companions carrying him the whole way.
In terms of dystopian fiction, it's vague about the supposed negative impacts of rule by the Tripods and being Capped. There is a vague conception of loss of freedom, but this is not truly demonstrated in the book.
I suppose in an earlier age, young readers may have been captivated with the characters' journey across lands to reach the White Mountains; 13-year-old boys on their own, sleeping rough, stealing and gathering food. The landscape descriptions are lovely and potentially new reading territory for many, but dull in the sum of time spent walking with not much of note happening. Compared with contemporary book options, I can't picture kids being interested in this now.
The ending is rather abrupt: the children technically read their destination but it rather glosses over that event and seems to jump ahead in time, but with only general statements. I'm not sure if this was meant as an enticement to read the next book, but taken on its own it's a lost opportunity. I'm going to read the rest of the trilogy regardless; they're short and easy books and, despite my criticisms here, smoothly written and easy to absorb.
Its closest comparison is The Chrysalids, published a decade earlier and far superior in terms of mid-20th century dystopian sci-fi for young readers. The White Mountains still has its qualities, however. It's not hard to picture it taught in school, in a time and place that this somewhat bland British boys' journey was deemed sufficient for such. It has a simplicity to it but will still test early reading comprehension, such as identifying the scientific concepts and technologies that "Beanpole" is rediscovering. At the same time it lends itself to a depth of character analysis and discussion suitable to primary school readers. This doesn't mean characters are engaging, just that they bear discussion, like why the reader thinks the narrating main character is such a petty, jealous, self-centered whiner who is chronically ungrateful for his companions carrying him the whole way.
In terms of dystopian fiction, it's vague about the supposed negative impacts of rule by the Tripods and being Capped. There is a vague conception of loss of freedom, but this is not truly demonstrated in the book.
I suppose in an earlier age, young readers may have been captivated with the characters' journey across lands to reach the White Mountains; 13-year-old boys on their own, sleeping rough, stealing and gathering food. The landscape descriptions are lovely and potentially new reading territory for many, but dull in the sum of time spent walking with not much of note happening. Compared with contemporary book options, I can't picture kids being interested in this now.
The ending is rather abrupt: the children technically read their destination but it rather glosses over that event and seems to jump ahead in time, but with only general statements. I'm not sure if this was meant as an enticement to read the next book, but taken on its own it's a lost opportunity. I'm going to read the rest of the trilogy regardless; they're short and easy books and, despite my criticisms here, smoothly written and easy to absorb.