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ericderoulet's reviews
64 reviews
Love/Aggression by June Martin
adventurous
dark
emotional
funny
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
This is a piece of sharp, genuinely witty narration and an exercise in writing characters that are compelling regardless of how lovable or sympathetic they are. The plot is a journey that seems to take quite a few detours, but by the end all the important bits—character motivations, flaws and their fruits—came together and saw a better resolution than I could've guessed. The surrealist elements in what might otherwise be called lit-fic also mesh nicely with the main characters' personalities and their journeys. On top of all of that, June Martin's skills as a keen observer of human experience and a painter of character portraits also shine through here.
One Message Remains by Premee Mohamed
One Message Remains, to be released on February 11 this year, is one of LitHub.com’s Most Anticipated Books of 2025—and rightly so. There's no better time for thoughtful writing on imperialism and colonialism, and there's no bad time to immerse oneself in excellently crafted worlds and writing. I unreservedly give this collection a full five stars and will continue to look forward to more releases from Mohamed. I'll published a more in-depth analysis on my blog (https://sadbutbuildingworlds.blog/) shortly after the collection is released.
adventurous
dark
emotional
hopeful
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
Full disclosure: I emailed the publisher, Psychopomp, to request an ARC of this collection. Thus, I am reviewing it. I have no affiliation with Psychopomp nor any incentive to provide unduly favorable reviews.
For starters, I emailed Psychopomp about the possibility of reviewing One Message Remains because Premee Mohamed has had a consistent track record of writing some of my favorite books. She has not broken this streak with this collection, far from it.
The shared setting across the stories in this collection comes the closest I've seen to a setting that is believably, compellingly, immersively grimdark. (Or it comes very close to this, though protagonists can at least try to claw hope away from their oppressors and overlords.) I find much grimdark fiction to be overdone, to the point that its horrible elements dilute each other and desensitize the reader. Yet in the world of One Message Remains, the imperial logic of a state that seems to be permanently at war is skillfully substantiated through everything from characters' backstories and motives to the material culture seen in their daily lives. Indeed, Mohamed has once again written a master class in world-building—not inundating her stories with world-building, but writing a world and stories that support and elevate each other.
I won't review individual stories in much depth seeing as I'm reviewing a pre-release, but here's a brief run-down:
For starters, I emailed Psychopomp about the possibility of reviewing One Message Remains because Premee Mohamed has had a consistent track record of writing some of my favorite books. She has not broken this streak with this collection, far from it.
The shared setting across the stories in this collection comes the closest I've seen to a setting that is believably, compellingly, immersively grimdark. (Or it comes very close to this, though protagonists can at least try to claw hope away from their oppressors and overlords.) I find much grimdark fiction to be overdone, to the point that its horrible elements dilute each other and desensitize the reader. Yet in the world of One Message Remains, the imperial logic of a state that seems to be permanently at war is skillfully substantiated through everything from characters' backstories and motives to the material culture seen in their daily lives. Indeed, Mohamed has once again written a master class in world-building—not inundating her stories with world-building, but writing a world and stories that support and elevate each other.
I won't review individual stories in much depth seeing as I'm reviewing a pre-release, but here's a brief run-down:
- The eponymous novelette (or novella?) starts slow but builds narrative momentum with its strange hauntings; the characterization here is a real object lesson in how imperialism is a detriment both to those who assent to it and to those who would prefer to live according to their traditions.
- "The Weight of What Is Hollow" masters narrative voice through contrast, alternating between emotional and macabre elements and almost dry technical writing to demonstrate
how the regime in the story is both sadistic and calculating in its cruelty . - "Forsaking All Others" in particular is a master class in well-contained world-building. The exposition that excessively explains so many fantasy and sci-fi settings is put to limited and effective use here, and the few bits of world-building that feel somewhat indulgent still don't bother me at all because they're so interesting.
- The aforementioned novelette/novella, "The Weight of What is Hollow," and "Forsaking All Others" are all creative experiments with voice; the former two both use a partially epistolary format, but in quite different ways that don't take us out of the action/plot too much.
- "The General's Turn" is a reprint of what might still be my favorite short story from the magazine The Deadlands. Here, Mohamed demonstrates how a story can be made better, not worse, by taking time to flesh out its setting and letting readers luxuriate in the (darkly gorgeous) details rather than rush through plot points at full speed. I've rarely seen Death, culture, or a culture of death portrayed so well in fiction.
One Message Remains, to be released on February 11 this year, is one of LitHub.com’s Most Anticipated Books of 2025—and rightly so. There's no better time for thoughtful writing on imperialism and colonialism, and there's no bad time to immerse oneself in excellently crafted worlds and writing. I unreservedly give this collection a full five stars and will continue to look forward to more releases from Mohamed. I'll published a more in-depth analysis on my blog (https://sadbutbuildingworlds.blog/) shortly after the collection is released.
Tales from Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin
"The Bones of the Earth" and "On the High Marsh" were the main reasons for the 4.5-star rating rather than a 5-star rating; I loved the other stories here, and the foreword is a splendid essay in its own right.
adventurous
emotional
hopeful
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.5
"Commodified fantasy takes no risk: it invents nothing, but imitates and trivialises."
I can't help but find a lot of recent fantasy both derivative and too committed to relatively untested, yet absolutely stated, rules of writing. (Worse still is the blind trend-chasing that so much Big Five-published fantasy does.) It's been a relief, then, to read something quite different here.
Sort of a back-collection of Le Guin stories and backstory, Tales from Earthsea collects five of Le Guin's stories (three long short stories and two that I believe are of at least novella length), precedes these with Le Guin's own thoughts on fantasy and publishing, and follows all of this with a "A Description of Earthsea," sort of a narrative map of the world-building Le Guin did for Earthsea (but written with an in-world perspective and not always reliable narration). While Le Guin recommends reading these stories after the four previous Earthsea novels, I found the collection enriching despite having only spent some time with her work previously. Even at the short story length, Le Guin allows herself to take pleasure with filling out the world and take time with the journeys her characters take; she doesn't strive for maximal word economy as so many short story writers are advised to do today. There's a fair bit of exposition in places, though it usually concerns the in-world details that the stories' characters would be concerned with, not lecturing the audience as I've seen indie fantasy and sci-fi do all too often. And quite unlike what's seen in the average fantasy plot, her stories' antagonists are not universally overcome through violence.
As for this collection's overall merits, the prose, while not flowery, is far from workman-like and can often be enjoyed for its own sake. More significantly, the stories are as thematically strong as one might expect when one recalls how thoughtful Le Guin was about writing social commentary as well as anthropologically sound fiction. Shared threads throughout this collection include a concern with power and how it ought to be used, as well as self-actualization and how often attaining it involves pushing back against the social norms that try to steer us all in the same direction.
Some quick comments on individual stories:
I can't help but find a lot of recent fantasy both derivative and too committed to relatively untested, yet absolutely stated, rules of writing. (Worse still is the blind trend-chasing that so much Big Five-published fantasy does.) It's been a relief, then, to read something quite different here.
Sort of a back-collection of Le Guin stories and backstory, Tales from Earthsea collects five of Le Guin's stories (three long short stories and two that I believe are of at least novella length), precedes these with Le Guin's own thoughts on fantasy and publishing, and follows all of this with a "A Description of Earthsea," sort of a narrative map of the world-building Le Guin did for Earthsea (but written with an in-world perspective and not always reliable narration). While Le Guin recommends reading these stories after the four previous Earthsea novels, I found the collection enriching despite having only spent some time with her work previously. Even at the short story length, Le Guin allows herself to take pleasure with filling out the world and take time with the journeys her characters take; she doesn't strive for maximal word economy as so many short story writers are advised to do today. There's a fair bit of exposition in places, though it usually concerns the in-world details that the stories' characters would be concerned with, not lecturing the audience as I've seen indie fantasy and sci-fi do all too often. And quite unlike what's seen in the average fantasy plot, her stories' antagonists are not universally overcome through violence.
As for this collection's overall merits, the prose, while not flowery, is far from workman-like and can often be enjoyed for its own sake. More significantly, the stories are as thematically strong as one might expect when one recalls how thoughtful Le Guin was about writing social commentary as well as anthropologically sound fiction. Shared threads throughout this collection include a concern with power and how it ought to be used, as well as self-actualization and how often attaining it involves pushing back against the social norms that try to steer us all in the same direction.
Some quick comments on individual stories:
- "The Finder" is the first and longest piece here, and easily the most thematically powerful. It's a rare pleasure to see both tyranny and resistance against it written well in fantasy and in fiction in general.
- "Darkrose and Diamond" is lovely, a romance of sorts that also takes seriously the challenge of becoming who we want to be in the face of family and social pressures. Le Guin also puts in the extra effort of including a song at the end, complete with musical notation, for the benefit of musically minded readers.
- "The Bones of Earth" is a somewhat slower tale but does well with interiority and showcasing the world's magic in an engaging way.
- "On the High Marsh" really takes its time with its pacing, even compared to the other stories here, and didn't do as much for me. Reasonably sympathetic characters, though.
- "Dragonfly" really stars for the self-actualization theme in this collection and feels ahead of its time with its clear nod to early transgender experience and self-discovery, even if the protagonist gets caught up in affairs much larger than herself in the second half or so.
"The Bones of the Earth" and "On the High Marsh" were the main reasons for the 4.5-star rating rather than a 5-star rating; I loved the other stories here, and the foreword is a splendid essay in its own right.
All That Burns Unseen by Premee Mohamed
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
A timely and well-crafted piece of near-future ecofiction that feels well grounded in Mohamed's scientific background and her personal experiences with climate change in Alberta.
Contra Amatores Mundi: A Gothic Fantasy by Graham Thomas Wilcox
adventurous
challenging
dark
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
There's much that can be said about this book, its craft, its audience, and then some. But first and foremost is this: What Wilcox has accomplished here is transposing the historic genre of the chivalric romance (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chivalric_romance) into the modern novel—and from there, has then turned the chivalric romance into something gothic, dark, and self-reflective with themes and motifs of his own choosing.
[from this point forward: thematic spoilers, perhaps, but no plot spoilers]
As far as I understand it, the chivalric romance was a popular late medieval genre of knightly adventures (or knight errants' adventures) that decidedly glorified knightly valor and violence. As Wilcox mentions in an interview with Kevin Beckett (https://justtheaxemaam.substack.com/p/just-the-axe-maam-145-eleven-questions), many chivalric romances answer the question of “Why would you want to be a knight?” by again, valorizing violence as a way for knights to prove their worthiness, their manliness, and so on. Wilcox has spun this "why be a knight question" on its head, however, by plunging his knightly protagonists, Hieronymus and Prospero, into a hellish underworld and having them serve an order that glorifies fanatical violence so much as to take a great part of their individuality away from them. Hieronymus and Prospero revel in their strange quest through much of the book, yet they are also led to doubt the virtue of all of this killing-for-glory and killing-for-God.
Speaking of which, another accomplishment of this book is that despite having been published in the 2020s, it depicts fanatical zeal in a way that's neither predictably critical of religion nor culturally revanchist. Yes, the knight protagonists harbor traditional, Crusadery values, but only in a way that makes them feel like authentic characters for a late medieval-like setting. (There's also the trope in which love/lust weakens the warrior's resolve, but the nun-love interest in this story is a well-characterized protagonist despite being described to us entirely from Hieronymus' perspective.) The major characters go beyond taking their faith seriously: Walpurga, the nun, has clearly come to much harm to advance the aims of her religious order. Likewise, both she and the knight-protagonists employ what I can only describe as (vividly described) dark magic, rationalized in defense of their faith, in support of their quests and goals. I wish I could describe it better without giving away too much. Here, suffice to say that in an interview with Adam McPhee (https://adamsnotes.substack.com/p/against-the-lovers-of-the-world-an), Wilcox describes his knights as "my take on DnD paladins... rather intense, frightful dudes immersed in the sort of esoteric religious extremism you might expect from people who think themselves (literally) warriors of god." I honestly haven't encountered knightly characters, nor fanatical characters, nor dark religious fantasy world-building with such depth in a long while.
I can't finish reviewing this book without discussing prose-level craft. Despite its novella length, Contra Amatores Mundi isn't necessarily a fast read, as the prose is dense with archaic-sounding language and jargon related to arms and armor. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the novella is written in maximalist prose; readers might either be alienated by this or show great pleasure in the writing. Personally, I feel the prose style both stretches out (in a good way) the reading experience and immerses me in what feels more like a premodern tale; had Wilcox followed the customary advice for writers to show restraint and write approachable prose, the end result would've been less interesting.
Between the maximalist prose, thoroughly dark fantasy elements, and the fact that this book is again a chivalric romance, it's certainly not for everyone. Really, though, these qualities are what make it a unique (for the 2020s) and well-crafted story. It's definitely tailored to particular sets of interests, but readers who are intrigued by the concept of this book absolutely should throw themselves into it.
[from this point forward: thematic spoilers, perhaps, but no plot spoilers]
As far as I understand it, the chivalric romance was a popular late medieval genre of knightly adventures (or knight errants' adventures) that decidedly glorified knightly valor and violence. As Wilcox mentions in an interview with Kevin Beckett (https://justtheaxemaam.substack.com/p/just-the-axe-maam-145-eleven-questions), many chivalric romances answer the question of “Why would you want to be a knight?” by again, valorizing violence as a way for knights to prove their worthiness, their manliness, and so on. Wilcox has spun this "why be a knight question" on its head, however, by plunging his knightly protagonists, Hieronymus and Prospero, into a hellish underworld and having them serve an order that glorifies fanatical violence so much as to take a great part of their individuality away from them. Hieronymus and Prospero revel in their strange quest through much of the book, yet they are also led to doubt the virtue of all of this killing-for-glory and killing-for-God.
Speaking of which, another accomplishment of this book is that despite having been published in the 2020s, it depicts fanatical zeal in a way that's neither predictably critical of religion nor culturally revanchist. Yes, the knight protagonists harbor traditional, Crusadery values, but only in a way that makes them feel like authentic characters for a late medieval-like setting. (There's also the trope in which love/lust weakens the warrior's resolve, but the nun-love interest in this story is a well-characterized protagonist despite being described to us entirely from Hieronymus' perspective.) The major characters go beyond taking their faith seriously: Walpurga, the nun, has clearly come to much harm to advance the aims of her religious order. Likewise, both she and the knight-protagonists employ what I can only describe as (vividly described) dark magic, rationalized in defense of their faith, in support of their quests and goals. I wish I could describe it better without giving away too much. Here, suffice to say that in an interview with Adam McPhee (https://adamsnotes.substack.com/p/against-the-lovers-of-the-world-an), Wilcox describes his knights as "my take on DnD paladins... rather intense, frightful dudes immersed in the sort of esoteric religious extremism you might expect from people who think themselves (literally) warriors of god." I honestly haven't encountered knightly characters, nor fanatical characters, nor dark religious fantasy world-building with such depth in a long while.
I can't finish reviewing this book without discussing prose-level craft. Despite its novella length, Contra Amatores Mundi isn't necessarily a fast read, as the prose is dense with archaic-sounding language and jargon related to arms and armor. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the novella is written in maximalist prose; readers might either be alienated by this or show great pleasure in the writing. Personally, I feel the prose style both stretches out (in a good way) the reading experience and immerses me in what feels more like a premodern tale; had Wilcox followed the customary advice for writers to show restraint and write approachable prose, the end result would've been less interesting.
Between the maximalist prose, thoroughly dark fantasy elements, and the fact that this book is again a chivalric romance, it's certainly not for everyone. Really, though, these qualities are what make it a unique (for the 2020s) and well-crafted story. It's definitely tailored to particular sets of interests, but readers who are intrigued by the concept of this book absolutely should throw themselves into it.
Remina by Junji Ito
dark
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
I'm a fairly avid Junji Ito reader, and unfortunately this is one of his weaker works. The premise is interesting enough: A planet from another universe is rapidly approaching Earth, threatening humanity with total destruction, and naturally the collective response to this set of circumstances is batshit, irrational, and conspiratorial. I would've liked the book much better had it focused more on this element of mass hysteria-as-psychological horror.
However, the narrative loses focus on that element. The initial disaster unfolds so quickly as to weaken my suspension of disbelief, and the majority of the story is essentially an extended chase scene as Remina (the main character) and company try to evade fanatics who blame her for humanity's impending doom. (So yes, the violent mass hysteria is present, but merely as a hazard to be avoided.) This plot structure might've worked better with more sympathetic and dynamic characters, but since there isn't a whole lot of character development, I find it more difficult to be invested in either Remina's fate or the side plots that unfold.
An additional issue is that Remina leans more into soft sci-fi as it tries to explain the strange planet and the other astronomical phenomena involved, but the more these elements are explained, the less compelling and believable they are. (This also impacts suspension of disbelief quite a lot; I felt like I was pushing through the "scientific" bits to get to the rest of the story.) Stronger Junji Ito pieces frequently do include sci-fi-adjacent elements but allow these to remain mysterious for the story's benefit.
As for the story's strengths, I will say there's ample (if straightforward) social commentary; the privileged class's selfish response to Earth's impending doom remains quite believable in 2024. There are also a decent number of satisfying horror elements despite the plotting, and of course Ito's signature evocative imagery (though even this is a bit lacking in the drawn-out chase/survival scenes). Also, while a number of Ito's works include certain temptress tropes and other arguably misogynistic elements, Remina is comparatively forward-thinking in this regard, making clear that Remina's persecution is unfair and irrational. Overall, readers who make a point of reading/collecting Ito's work should check out Remina as well, but Ito has plenty of stronger cosmic/existential horror and body horror pieces.
However, the narrative loses focus on that element. The initial disaster unfolds so quickly as to weaken my suspension of disbelief, and the majority of the story is essentially an extended chase scene as Remina (the main character) and company try to evade fanatics who blame her for humanity's impending doom. (So yes, the violent mass hysteria is present, but merely as a hazard to be avoided.) This plot structure might've worked better with more sympathetic and dynamic characters, but since there isn't a whole lot of character development, I find it more difficult to be invested in either Remina's fate or the side plots that unfold.
An additional issue is that Remina leans more into soft sci-fi as it tries to explain the strange planet and the other astronomical phenomena involved, but the more these elements are explained, the less compelling and believable they are. (This also impacts suspension of disbelief quite a lot; I felt like I was pushing through the "scientific" bits to get to the rest of the story.) Stronger Junji Ito pieces frequently do include sci-fi-adjacent elements but allow these to remain mysterious for the story's benefit.
As for the story's strengths, I will say there's ample (if straightforward) social commentary; the privileged class's selfish response to Earth's impending doom remains quite believable in 2024. There are also a decent number of satisfying horror elements despite the plotting, and of course Ito's signature evocative imagery (though even this is a bit lacking in the drawn-out chase/survival scenes). Also, while a number of Ito's works include certain temptress tropes and other arguably misogynistic elements, Remina is comparatively forward-thinking in this regard, making clear that Remina's persecution is unfair and irrational. Overall, readers who make a point of reading/collecting Ito's work should check out Remina as well, but Ito has plenty of stronger cosmic/existential horror and body horror pieces.