space_and_sorcery's reviews
66 reviews

The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury

emotional inspiring mysterious reflective sad slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

 

A few weeks ago, fellow blogger Bormgans reviewed one of Ray Bradbury’s most famous novels, and that review piqued my curiosity to revisit one of the classics I read so long ago.  These revisitations tend to be somewhat dangerous journeys, because when decades elapse and tastes change you risk being disappointed, but this was not the case with The Martian Chronicles. 

 

The Mars depicted in the Chronicles is not the one we now know thanks to the various unmanned expeditions launched toward the Red Planet, but it’s rather an idealized version of it, with blue skies and canals where waters flow plentiful, where there is a breathable atmosphere - if not as rich in oxygen as the one on Earth - and rains and grass and trees. Where cities, mostly abandoned but still beautiful and whole, dot the landscape as testimonials of a flourishing civilization whose last denizens are either too shy to risk contact or subtly dangerous for the invading humans.  Yes, invading, because Bradbury’s Mars is something of an idealized paradise free from the vices that plague humanity and therefore prone to the damaging influence of the new arrivals. 

 

The Martian Chronicles is a collection of short stories rather than a cohesive novel, and these stories are the tiles of a mosaic through which the author delves into the shortcomings of human nature and the dangers of unthinking exploration: observing the attitude of the astronauts who reach Mars in successive waves it’s easy to draw the parallel with the behavior of the adventurers who touched the shores of the New World and proceeded to turn it into a copy of the Old one, while plundering its newfound riches.  The most emblematic story in this regard is And the Moon Be Still as Bright, where some of the new arrivals act in a boorishly uncaring manner, breaking Martian artifacts and scattering their trash around: only one of them understands the value of the now-dead original civilization and goes to extremes to preserve its vestiges.  The behavior of those uncouth astronauts reminded me of the ugliest form of tourist one can observe all around the world, those who are noisy and disrespectful and are unable to appreciate the beauty of what they are seeing. 

 

Bradbury comes across as quite skeptical about the Earthers’ capacity to overcome their nature and the overall tone of the collection is one of sadness for the inevitabile, i.e. the progressive obliteration of any vestiges of Martian civilization and the “poisoning” of the Red Planet as it’s turned out into a carbon copy of Earth.  This choice might have all too easily turned into a moralistic soapbox cautionary tale, but this does not happen (or if it does it’s  only a light brush stroke) thanks to the evocative prose that’s able to summon quite vivid images - both in beauty and in ugliness.  Humans are portrayed as incapable of learning from their mistakes, and the Chronicles are very far removed from the optimism that, a mere sixteen years after their publication, will inspire Star Trek with the hope that people of different cultures would be able to find some common ground beyond their differences, or that exploring new places might bring a form of  mutual enlightening. 

 

Revisiting the Chronicles turned out to be a journey into unexplored territory, because I hardly remembered any details of these stories (a few decades can play havoc with one’s memory…) and I’m glad I retraced my steps and re-discovered a work that, while dated in its outlook and social representation, still feels readable and applicable to many moderns considerations. 

 

 

The Fractured Dark by Megan E. O'Keefe

adventurous challenging dark emotional medium-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

 

It was just a handful of months ago that I had the opportunity to read and review the first book in this new, amazing series by Megan O’Keefe, The Blighted Stars, so I was beyond excited in discovering that Book 2, The Fractured Dark, was going to follow closely on the heels of its predecessor. 

 

A brief recap of the first book: humanity has reached toward the stars and spread on colony worlds and space stations, ruled by a conglomerate of five families, Mercator being the most powerful thanks to the mining of relkatite, a substance used both in power sources and in the physical enhancement pathways humans have become dependent on.  The intensive mining, however, seems to directly connect to the expansion of the shroud, a fungal infestation that kills all life on those planets and the Conservationist movement is attempting to put a stop to such intensive mining, but with little success.  Naira Sharp, formerly the bodyguard of family ruler Aecelus Mercator, and now a fervent Conservationist, finds herself on one such blighted world together with Tarquin, Aecelus’ son, and the two of them discover that a far worse danger looms over humanity and forge an alliance to face the threat. 

 

As The Fractured Dark opens, Naira, Tarquin and their allies have been living on Earth (the first world to fall victim to the shroud) planning their next moves against the encroaching danger represented by canus, the agent employed in relkatite mining whose spread seems to continue unopposed. The relationship between them is somewhat strained, since Naira’s last reprinting (the transfer of consciousness into a new body) erased the last few weeks of her memories and she does not remember their budding romance, although she has constant flashes of… something she cannot put her finger on.  But more pressing matters require the group’s attention and they embark on dangerous missions that will test their mettle and their determination to put a stop to canus’ encroaching advance - no matter the cost. 

 

This second book in the series raises the already high stakes inherited from book 1, while expanding our knowledge of this universe and building on the characterization: where the first installment mostly kept the readers on the newly discovered world named Cradle Six, here we move from planetary settings to space stations to ships, following the different narrative threads at the core of this story and adding a few strokes of political intrigue to the mix. Where this varying focus helps readers to better understand the background in which the series is set, it also affects the pacing that here feels less smooth than the tightly managed sequences in The Blighted Stars.  Still, the looming danger represented by the canus infection, and its repercussions on the future of humanity, acted as the foundation for this segment of the story just as the mystery at its root was for the first installment, so that the keen sense of impending doom that colors the characters’ actions serves the story well in keeping the narrative flow moving forward, though at a somewhat less hair-raising pace than before. 

 

As far as characters are concerned, we learn more about Naira’s past and the events that shaped her into the person she presently is, and here we indeed see her as that person: where before her consciousness was inhabiting someone else’s “print”, therefore forcing her to adapt her interactions with other people to the individual she pretended to be, here she is herself - body and mind - and while some of her vulnerabilities are still present, she is totally free to fully show her true nature, that of a strong woman gifted with a steely determination tempered by a deep capacity for affection. And of course that means Tarquin - whose journey from a sheltered, bookish scion of the universe’s most powerful family to a warrior ready to do whatever is necessary to safeguard humanity’s future is not an easy one: he might not be as callous as the rest of his family, but he still needs to question many of the privileges he unthinkingly enjoyed until now, and this road is littered with pitfalls and false steps.   

 

I appreciated the slow-burn romance between Naira and Tarquin in The Blighted Stars and I was curious to se how the setback from Naira’s loss of the memories from the events on Cradle Six would affect the relationship: it was fascinating to see, here, how they managed to connect again and re-build what they had lost, overcoming the obstacles that the events set on their path, but at some point it seemed as if every potential problem in their pairing (he a high-ranking member of the establishment, she a wanted terrorist, not to mention their different social extractions) was swept under the rug, with little of no raising of eyebrows once their attachment was made public.  It might be just me, but it rang contrived to my ears, and those sections of the story slightly spoiled my enjoyment of it. 

 

And since I just mentioned one of my main “troubles” with The Fractured Dark, I need to list the other one: Fletcher Demarco. This character was briefly introduced in the first book: he’s the Mercators’ finalizer, a sort of highly skilled torturer/assassin who in the past was Naira’s lover. Here he’s further fleshed out and turns out to be a prominent player in the chain of events, and as such he represents one of the forces of evil in the overall story, but unfortunately he’s depicted more like a ludicrously gloating, mustache-twirling villain rather than a nasty opponent to be reckoned with, which in my opinion defeats the purpose of his presence. 

 

These are however minor annoyances in the course of a very enjoyable, compelling read that more than once kept me on the edge of the seat thanks to the high-stakes battle waged against the parasitic canus, to the personal and moral dilemmas facing the characters and the thrilling uncertainty offered by the many elements in motion in this story.  At the end of The Fractured Dark one battle might be won, but the war is far from over, and my hope is that the final installment in this trilogy will arrive as swiftly as this one, because waiting for the resolution will not be so easy…. 

 

The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connelly

adventurous informative mysterious tense medium-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? Yes

4.5

 

In my recent discovery of the works of Michael Connelly, through his Harry Bosch series, I became acquainted with his other successful saga featuring defense lawyer Mickey Haller: just like it happened with Bosch, I “met” Haller first in his cinematic version with the movie The Lincoln Lawyer and then through the more recent Netflix series with the same title.  Jumping from screen to book was indeed a given for me, and the narrative links between the two book series made me often think of another successful TV show, Law and Order, with Bosch representing the “Law” side of the story and Haller taking the “Order” role through the intriguing courtroom scenes which are the backbone of the story and that appeal to me even more than police procedurals.  

 

Mickey Haller is a defense attorney nicknamed “The Lincoln Lawyer” because he prefers to do all his work aboard a Lincoln Town Car, while his driver shuttles him all over Los Angeles between the courtrooms and the prisons - yes because Mickey’s clientele mostly comes from the lower strata of society: biker gangs, small-time offenders, prostitutes and so on.  He’s well-known in those circles for being the kind of lawyer who often manages to acquit his clients, or when that doesn’t work, to get them a reduced sentence.  He works with quantity rather than quality, and is always looking for the “coup” that might present him with some financial stability, which he sorely needs given that he has two ex-wives - one of them a prosecutor he often meets while touring courtrooms and the other presently working as his case manager - and a hillside house with a great view, which he’s still paying for. 

 

So, when one of his many contacts presents him with the potential for a “franchise client”, the kind of client who promises steady income over the years, he does not look too closely into this proverbial gift horse’s mouth, hardly wondering why affluent Louis Roulet wanted someone like Haller to defend him against the accusation of having savagely beaten a prostitute.  Roulet looks and sounds innocent - something of a change given Haller’s usual clientele - but some inconsistencies in the course of the investigation compel the lawyer to look closely at the evidence and bring him to a devastating discovery, one that forces him to navigate the extremely narrow margin between his commitment as an attorney and his conscience. 

 

By now I know that Michael Connelly’s writing never fails to engage me, but with this novel I was even more intrigued than usual, to the point that I did something I rarely - if ever - do: I read the first three books in the series back to back, and I not only avoided any kind of “story fatigue”, but I ended up feeling eager to continue with the series.  Hook, line and sinker, indeed…  What I found fascinating, besides the story itself, is the dichotomy between Haller’s outwardly sleazy persona and his own ethics, a divide that creates a multi-faceted, quite humanly believable character.  He is a man very focused on his work and somehow haunted by the ghost of his father, a famous lawyer whose professional shadow he keenly feels, even though the man died when Mickey was still a child. 

 

I’m indulging in a little spoiler here, because it’s not a major one: Haller and Bosch are half brothers from that father’s side (something that I already knew thanks to my searches about Connelly’s works, and that is revealed in the second novel), and it’s interesting here to look for the two men’s points of contact and differences - despite the opposing sides of the law in which they work, they are both quite committed to their profession, to the point that both of them have sacrificed emotional entanglements to pursue that drive, but where Bosch is his very own man, forced from early childhood to depend only on himself, Haller often feels the weight of that larger-than-life father and the unconscious need to be “worthy” of his legacy. In the end, both men are striving for justice, each in his own different way and through totally different means, and I’m certain that the juxtaposition of these two characters will offer many intriguing considerations down the road. 

 

In this first Lincoln Lawyer novel, Michael Connelly fuses very successfully characterization and plot, creating an engrossing story that quite deserves the title of “page turner”: once again I came to the written word after experiencing the plot through the cinematic medium, and yet I was never bored or distracted by that knowledge because this is the kind of writer who knows how to capture his audience’s attention and keep it riveted from start to finish.  Here the mix of courtroom debate, police investigation and unexpected twists and turns takes the readers through a story that is more than a simple legal thriller because it also explores, very compellingly, the nooks and crannies of the human soul while it showcases the intricacies of the legal system in a way that is everything but pedantic. 

 

It’s true that my TBR hardly needed another book series to weigh it down, but this new addition promises to offer many hours of absorbing reading, so I will not complain…. ;-) 

 

The Dirty Secrets Club by Meg Gardiner

adventurous dark emotional mysterious tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.5

 

Sometimes it’s not such a good idea to go back to the earlier works of an author whose novels I enjoyed, and that proved to be the case with Meg Gardiner, whose Unsub series has been one of my best finds in the thriller/mystery category.  Since I enjoyed those books very much, while I was waiting for the fourth Unsub novel to come out I decided to give The Dirty Secrets Club a look, but sadly it did not compare with Gardiner’s later efforts, even though it was a swift, reasonably entertaining read.  It’s clear that in the nine years between this book and the first Unsub novel the author honed her skills considerably, so I guess I will limit myself to her newest offerings in the future. 

 

The main character in The Dirty Secrets Club is Jo Beckett, a forensic psychiatrist: her job is to examine the personality and life of the victims of equivocal deaths, to shed some light on the circumstances that brought them to their demise.  Jo is quite similar to Gardiner’s other heroine, Caitlin Hendrix, in that she is a mixture of strength and vulnerability, and very determined in her chosen profession - there is a grievous personal tragedy in her past that often weighs on her mind, and she still suffers from the claustrophobic effects of having been trapped in a car during a past earthquake, but her resolve in not letting these problems affect her and her work is indeed one of her most admirable characteristics. 

 

At the start of the novel, Jo is called by San Francisco PD Lieutenant Amy Tang to help in the investigation of a string of murder/suicides that seems to be targeting some of the most notable individuals in the city: a fashion designer blew up his boat, killing himself and his lover; a famous surgeon died of a suspicious heart attack after his son succumbed to a drug overdose; and more recently a US attorney launched her car from an overpass, killing herself and the passengers of a passing vehicle, and seriously wounding her assistant.  At the scenes of these events are often present baffling words like “Pray” or “Dirty” and no one is able to understand the reason why these people, who had everything to look forward to in life or career, choose to end their existence in such a publicly dramatic way. 

 

With the latest suicide, that of a sports star who dived from the Golden Gate Bridge, Jo and the police stumble on the existence of the Dirty Secrets Club: its members are prominent figures of society who enlist by revealing their most troubling, most damning secrets, the thrill of discovery probably offset by the conviction of being untouchable due to their position.  Someone is however targeting the members of the club, someone with a powerful grudge and a driving need for vengeance, and soon enough Jo will find herself enmeshed in this mysterious person’s plots…. 

 

As I said at the start of this review, The Dirty Secrets Club does not compare, both narratively and character-wise, with the author’s more recent novels, although I have to admit that the story is an engaging one and the need to understand the mystery at its roots is a powerful motivator to keep on reading, but unfortunately the plot is a bit confusing at times and is burdened by some long expositions that at times hobble the pace, particularly toward the end when the Bad Guy falls prey to the trope-y compelling need to Tell Everything Before The End, which to me often robs of any drama what should be a tense situation. 

 

Still, the story remains a reasonably compelling one and Meg Gardiner’s writing - even in these earlier stages of her career - takes you along for the ride with little effort, which proves to be a great help in suspending one’s disbelief at the more eye-rolling plot instances.   Certainly this was not my favorite pick from this writer’s production, but it was an… honest story - for want of a better word - and one I don’t regret reading at all. 

 

 

In the Garden of Spite by Camilla Bruce

dark emotional tense slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? No
• Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.5

 

When hearing the term “serial killer” our minds usually conjure the image of a man whose cruel and perverted nature pushes him toward such heinous acts, since both recent and past history have presented us with many such examples.  But women can be serial killers as well, even though the phenomenon is rare: the case of Bella Gunness is one such example and it’s no less horrifying than those of better-known serial murderers with whom we are more acquainted. Author Camilla Bruce once again explores a real-time personality to which she adds some narrative extrapolation, creating a riveting - if appalling - tale of descent into madness. 

 

Brynhild is a young Norwegian woman working as a scullery maid for a wealthy farmer, whose son has attracted her attention and fueled her dreams of a better life. Pregnant with the man’s child, she confronts him only to be viciously beaten within an inch of her life, which also causes a miscarriage. Embittered and full of repressed anger, not assuaged even by the murderous vengeance she is able to visit on her attacker, Brynhild sails to America, where her older sister Nellie has been living for a while with her husband: changing her name to “Bella”, Brynhild sets out to fulfill her dreams of wealth, but with a shocking twist, since she has tasted the flavor of murder, and discovered that it gives her pleasure just as much as material comforts do. 

 

Her first husband meets an untimely death that allows her to commit both murder and insurance fraud at the same time, all too easily evading any suspicion raised by the unclear circumstances of the event, so that she feels emboldened by this first “success” and moves on toward further liaisons and killings whose only goal is to insure financial security.  But it’s not only money that drives Bella toward murder, because once she moves to an isolated farm she discovers that the act of murdering her hapless victims is a reward in itself - her life’s experiences having spawned a hatred of men and a depraved enjoyment in their destruction.  At the same time, however, Bella progressively loses contact with the reality of things and her madness does not spare even the children she professes to love, accelerating a descent into Hell that will force her to choose a tragic path… 

 

I have tried to keep the details of this story to a minimum because Bella’s story is both fascinating and repulsive, even more so when considering that she is not a fabricated character but a real-life individual: Ms. Bruce takes us deep into her mind and leads us, step by step, along the journey that transforms a young, hopeful woman who simply wanted to escape a dreary life into a disturbed killing machine devoid of any feelings.  At first it’s easy to empathize with her, particularly when witnessing her home life, bracketed between a distant, harsh mother and a drinking, abusive father; the brutal assault at the hands of her lover enhances that sympathy, because you see Brynhild’s inner strength and will to survive - and the way she exacts her revenge on the man does have a slight flavor of… rightness, for want of a better word. 

 

But once she reaches America, everything changes and you see how she takes advantage of everyone - including her doting sister Nellie - to further her own goals.  It’s interesting to note that the story is told from two different points of view: that of Bella, where we are made privy to her inner musings and to her psychological motivations; and that of Nellie, who observes those transformations from outside and is torn between the love for her younger sister and the dread for what she suspects Bella might truly be. 

 

What impressed me, in Camilla Bruce’s story, is the depiction of Bella as a sociopath: all the elements of this personality disorder are there - self-centeredness, no sense of guilt or remorse, a controlling, violent nature that often shows lack of planning, and so forth. She can fake (even to herself) a deep love toward her children, but ultimately they are simply props for the world to see, the outward sign of Bella’s “goodness”: when necessity arises, she has no qualms in using them to fulfill her goals, or even worse…  What makes Bella the horrifying person she is are not so much the murders she is guilty of, but rather the cold, calculating way in which she performs them - even the so-called pleasure she derives from annihilating these men is observed in a detached manner that is beyond chilling. 

 

And here lies, at least for me, the basic fault of the story that prevented me from giving it a higher rating: following Bella’s long “career” in murder becomes somewhat repetitive, to the point that I felt both repulsed and numb and at some point I was ready to put down the book because I could not take anymore of that bloody account of entrapments and killings. I endured only because I wanted to discover if she was apprehended or not, but - as it happened with the other Camilla Bruce book I read - her destiny remains a mystery and we readers are left to wonder if the Black Widow of Laporte did indeed die in the fire that burned her farm to the ground or if she really used that as a smokescreen to disappear forever. Even history gives no certainty about it. 

 

So, I’m glad to have learned something about a real-life person I knew nothing about, but at the same time I’m even happier to be done with her… 

 

However Many Must Die by Phil Williams

adventurous dark emotional hopeful inspiring tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
• Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

5.0

 

All the books I’ve so far read and enjoyed from author Phil Williams have been set in Urban Fantasy backgrounds, so when I happened to encounter the description for However Many Must Die and understood that it was something completely different, I was curious to see where the change of theme would take his narrative skills, so I was quite delighted when Mr. Williams granted me an ARC of his new endeavor. 

 

The setting depicted here is a richly complex one: at the roots of the narrative there is a world, the Rocc, engaged in the strife between its two main powers, the conquest-hungry Drail and its major antagonist Stanclif, each of them supported by their own alliances of minor states.   The background and the technical elements mentioned bring immediately to mind a level of civilization similar to that of Europe during World War I (with some steampunk accents) but with a huge difference, because this world is also home to a great variety of creatures - from the merely bizarre to the monstrous - which add a generous dose of fantasy to the mix, where one can also find magic wielders to complement the existing technology. 

 

In this context of seemingly endless, drawn-out warfare we meet the Blood Scouts, an all-female squadron mostly employed in missions that entail commando-like incursions where sniping skills are particularly required. Wild Wish is a member of the Blood Scouts and we meet her in the heat of one such skirmish, a bloody one where the Scouts’ success is marred by some grievous losses. There is little time, however, to mourn the death of friends, because the Scouts are tasked with a dangerous but vital mission: intelligence reports hint at a terrible weapon being perfected by the Drail, one that might not only change the tide of war in their favor, but also threatens a massive loss of life.  Wild Wish and her friends then embark on a journey into enemy territory that will take them across a war-ravaged world and test their mettle to the utmost. 

 

I was completely captivated by Wild Wish and the Blood Scouts in their quest across the Rocc and its different terrains, cultures and creatures, even though I did struggle a little at the start because this is a very complex, very layered world which requires unwavering attention - in this regard I was greatly helped by the glossary at the start of the book, returning to it time and again to help me make sense of the huge amount of information underlying the story.   In this respect However Many Must Die is a challenging read but once you become comfortable with the background you will be able to enjoy the characters and their adventures: the shining light in this novel comes from the camaraderie binding the Blood Scouts and the way they express it through affectionate banter or apparently rough exchanges that come from the well of shared experiences of this group of women. 

 

In this world women are not viewed as effective combatants, there is a deep veneer of misogyny running through the Blood Scouts’ dealings with the other military and it’s interesting to see how this serves to cement their bonds even more deeply. Even the enemy - alerted by its own intelligence about a possibile incursion - struggles to accept that a handful of women could be responsible for the news of sneak attacks and successful stunts that are being reported.  On the Drail side of the war there is another woman, Maringdale, who is an officer of the Purification (a sort of secret police) and equally suffering from discrimination: she is the enemy, granted, and while it’s easy to hope that her hunt for the Blood Scouts will be unsuccessful, it’s equally easy to sympathize with her, given the supercilious treatment she must endure in her attempts to bring the Stanclif infiltration to the attention of her superiors and ultimately to foil it. 

 

The characters are undoubtedly intriguing, and there are many more besides Wild Wish: from mage Emi, whose dirt-minding powers can affect the environment but require a price of momentary madness, expressed in manic laughter; to sniper Rue whose moods can turn from brooding to murderous at the drop of a hat; to Oksy whose inexhaustible well of knowledge tends to set Wish on edge, they all contribute to a wonderful tapestry of personalities we come to care deeply for.  These are mostly young women who choose to enlist either to show their worth or to escape from a dreary existence, but their shared experiences forge them into a cohesive whole where they are able to accept sacrifice not only for a higher goal but above all for the good of the small “tribe” they created with each other.  

 

The journey itself, that often takes the shape of a classic fantasy quest, thanks to the strange places and even stranger creatures that Wish & Co. encounter on the road, is one whose stakes and hardships keep increasing, as does the pace of the novel: where at the start However Many Must Die reads like something of a war chronicle, it gradually morphs into a high-octane race against time and impossible odds, punctuated by run-ins with the weirdest beings one could imagine, ranging from forest-dwelling barkmen (the name says everything) to goblins and vicious Grekkels (think something between lizard and wolf) and so on.  Be prepared for blood-chilling skirmishes and grievous losses, even among favorite characters…. 

 

But the best comes indeed last because the final showdown - set on a huge train rushing madly toward its momentous destination - will keep you on the edge of your seat and in serious need of oxygen, and it was my favorite part of the story, one that compelled me to stay awake well past my bedtime to see what would happen. 

 

If this is - as it would seem - only the first installment in a new series featuring the Blood Scouts, I’m totally onboard for the continuation of the journey. 

 

Grievar's Blood by Alexander Darwin

adventurous dark emotional hopeful tense medium-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

 

In his afterword, author Alexander Darwin touches on the subject of middle book syndrome, the point in a series that can either make it or break it: now that I have read Grievar’s Blood I can say with total assurance that this book does not only make the series, but it also expands on the characters’ journey and on the view of the world in which the story is set, and does so in a gripping, page-turning way. 

 

Where The Combat Codes focused mainly on the characters of young Cego, rising star in the Grievars’ training school, and of Murray Pearson, former Grievar Knight turned scout for fighting talent, Grievar’s Blood adds two more POVs to the story, Solara Halberd and Silas the Slayer and through them gives us a deeper, wider understanding of this world and its social and political forces at work. All of the characters - old and new - are on some form of quest here: Cego needs to learn more about himself and his talents after the momentous revelation on his origins, a discovery that has a profound impact both on his personality and on the way he interacts with his friends. In the previous book I enjoyed the theme of found family in this group of young trainees, and here the strength of the bond linking them is stressed even more once Cego finds himself facing a quite unexpected turn of events in what proved to be a very compelling narrative thread: the team’s reaction to what is happening is both heartwarming and harrowing, and leads to a detailed trial scene that kept me on the edge of the seat for the whole run.   It’s interesting to note, though, that Cego’s journey is not front and center in Grievar’s Blood: the bold move of having him share the limelight in equal measure with other characters pays off in the end, because the uncertainty about his fate that colors the last quarter of the book adds even more strength to the pivotal scene where the present leg of his journey ends to start a new one. Apologies for these quite cryptic comments, but I don’t want to spoil anything here… 

 

Murray, after the shocking discoveries he made in the previous book, is a rudderless man who has turned to drinking himself into a stupor, literally touching bottom, physically and spiritually until something awakens him and gives him a new purpose: finding Sam, Cego’s younger brother. His commitment to this goal takes him back to his former self, and we see him taking great risks and paying a huge price for his actions: I am amazed at the kind of beatings this man can take and yet be back on his feet again, never surrendering to obstacles once he finds again a purpose in life.  In the course of the first two books of this series I have grown very fond of Murray: this grizzled, blunt, grumpy individual has unexpectedly carved a place in my heart, and I hope of seeing more of him in the final book. 

 

In The Combat Codes Solara Halberd was described as a very committed, very serious young woman whose life has been focused on becoming a Grievar Knight and making her father - an eminent fighter - proud of her accomplishments. Here, on the heels of a huge personal tragedy, we see her leave the Lyceum on an almost impossible quest, to which she brings the same determination she applied to her studies and training. Where she might have previously appeared as merely ambitious and a little self-centered, here she exhibits a many-layered personality that comes across at its best in her dealings with another young trainee, N’auri: the growing friendship between these two girls is a delightful addition to the story and also brings some welcome female presence that was slightly missing in the previous installment. 

 

And finally we come to Silas: the way Cego remembered his older brother - capable, focused but also affectionate - clashes with the person represented here, a cold-blooded fighter who crushes his opponents with cold, surgical detachment. The nickname “Slayer” seemed perfectly tailored for a character I was ready to dislike, to say the least - that is, until more was revealed about his personality and, more important, the ultimate goal he is pursuing here, and which ties in closely with the huge twist toward which the author has been leading his readers, carefully managing the various narrative threads that combine toward the end into a breath-taking payoff which, in turn, holds the promise for a quite spectacular conclusion in the next book. 

 

When reading The Combat Codes I was often curious to know more about the world in which this series is set, and Grievar’s Blood did indeed reveal more details about it, particularly where the Daimyo - the actual rulers of the world - are concerned: there are several interesting glimpses into their mindset and customs, and in the social and political machinations they surround themselves with, but the most intriguing detail about the foundations of this society, and the origin of Grievar Knights, comes from a bitter musing from Silas: 

 

The Grievar [...] are characters in this world they’ve built made to play a very specific part [...] fight in their arenas, settle their disputes [...] With them looking down on us from above, watching us fight and bleed and get buried, all to serve at their pleasure. 

 

It’s in this small seed that the riveting turning point at the end of the book finds the means to expand the story and its scope into a tale which grows from the relatively small-scale conflicts of the fighting arenas to an epic battle for freedom and dignity: 

 

We who are not bound by the world they build 

We who are free to fight 

We who will fight to be free 

 

Given what I’ve learned in this second volume, I can hardly wait to see what Alexander Darwin has in store for his readers in what promises to be the impressive climax of a gripping series. 

 

 

A House With Good Bones by T. Kingfisher

dark funny mysterious tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

 

Readers who might think that humor and horror are mutually incompatible probably never read a book by T. Kingfisher: this author can combine the most horrific and uncanny situations with whimsical banter or musings and work them into an engrossing tale that will keep you turning the pages with the need to discover what’s what.  This is indeed the case of A House With Good Bones, where Samantha (Sam) Montgomery, an archaeological entomologist on leave from her latest dig, returns home to stay with her mother for the duration. 

 

The house where Sam grew up, and which belonged to her grandmother Mae, is quite changed however, and so is her mother: the once brightly painted walls are now covered by a uniformly bland beige color, favorite paintings have disappeared and have been replaced by quaintly disturbing pictures and to make matters worse Sam’s mother, a strong, capable woman, looks apprehensive and almost fearful, always looking around as if she expected something (or someone?) to appear uninvited at any moment.  And that’s only the beginning, because there seems to be an infestation of vultures - one of them constantly perched on Sam’s mother’s letterbox - and the total lack of insects in the backyard garden does not preclude a huge swarm of ladybugs from invading the young woman’s bedroom one night. Not to mention the weird jar of teeth that Sam discovers buried under the rose bushes that were her grandmother’s pride and joy… 

 

A House With Good Bones is the perfect example of how to create and build a sense of impending dread: as readers we might surmise what’s at the roots of the weird events focused on the house, but it’s much more fun to follow Sam’s path through the clues and to see how she keeps dismissing them on the basis of her scientific mindset, only to be met with even creepier manifestations that rise to a terrifying crescendo. Equally intriguing are the details of the dysfunctional family created by the overbearing attitude of Gran Mae, whose ghostly remnants seem to still pervade the place and to haunt everyone’s memory. The final narrative twist plunges the story into all-out horror that starts with a not-so-unexpected supernatural visitation and then segues with a creepy, bone chilling invasion that kept me on edge until the resolution: I’m not going to give any spoilers here, but if you remember that eerie Dr. Who episode titled “The Empty Child”, be prepared for something equally scary, if not more. 

 

As far as characters go, Sam is a delightful one: I greatly enjoyed her down-to-Earth attitude rooted in her analytical mind, and her frequent digressions into entomological details which served very well in establishing her as a very non-squeamish personality - something that serves her well as the weirdness keeps increasing in and around the house. Moreover, I enjoyed the way she deals with her non-standard body shape, accepting it as a fact of life and being quite comfortable into her own skin: apart from this positive attitude, this viewpoint stand at the roots of her inner strength and the way she reacts when things start to go sideways - or maybe I should say “when things start to cave in”, to be more precise…. 

 

If you ever decide to pick up  A House With Good Bones, be prepared for a story that will reel you in slowly and then will grab you by the throat toward the end and refuse to let you go until you reach the last page. Another proof for me that T. Kingfisher is the kind of storyteller that never disappoints, no matter what kind of tale she chooses to tell. 

 

Nine Dragons by Michael Connelly

adventurous dark emotional tense fast-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

 

This fourteenth novel in Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch series brings about some huge changes in the life of the titular detective, some of them quite momentous, and also sees him take his investigations outside of the usual hunting grounds in the city of Los Angeles, because part of the action in Nine Dragons happens in Hong Kong - the “Chinese Connection” being indeed the leading force in this story. 

 

The novel starts with a somewhat bored Harry Bosch waiting for some intriguing case he can sink his proverbial teeth into, and at first fates seem to have heard his wish because what looks like the run-of-the-mill robbery/murder of a liquor store owner soon shows important connections with the triads, the powerful Chinese criminal syndicate.  As he searches for clues to solve the case, he’s in contact with his daughter Madeline - now a teenager and living in Hong Kong with her mother - who managed to move stubbornly analog Bosch into the digital age and the joys of video communication and email.  Soon after he asked her some innocent information about Chinese characters that turned out in the course of the investigation, Bosch receives first a warning about not delving too deeply into it, and then a video in which a bound and gagged Maddie has been abducted by elements of the triads and is being used as leverage against her father. 

 

Driven in equal parts by fear and rage, Bosch flies to Hong Kong to find his daughter, this time putting all his unstoppable drive into a very personal, anguished quest which will bring unexpected allies and equally unexpected losses as his search for justice cuts far too close to home… 

 

Throughout the book series, so far, Bosch has been depicted as an uncompromising individual who stops at nothing to obtain justice for the victims, someone who puts the needs of his chosen work before any other consideration - even personal ones.  There are several passages in 9 Dragons in which he’s disdainful toward his working partner’s less-than-total dedication to the job, since Detective Ferras is a family man with young children and he requires personal time to see to their needs, which is more than understandable - but not for Bosch.   Harry is a father, and a very devoted one, but not a full-time one, and he does not seem to understand the kind of commitment required by parenthood, so when Maddie is abducted it’s easy to see some form of poetic justice in the situation, one that he might have unconsciously anticipated 

 

He would be forever connected to the world in the way only a father would. But he would also be lost because he knew the dark forces he faced would one day find her 

 

but still not completely realized. So, when the worst case scenario suddenly materialized, we can see how totally Harry Bosch unravels and launches in search of his missing daughter with no thoughts for consequences - and some of them will be tragic indeed… 

 

9 Dragons is a very engrossing novel carried by an unrelenting pace, with the added bonus of being set in a different background from the usual seedier corners of L.A.: the Hong Kong in this book is a living, breathing city with its own lights and shadows and it’s interesting to see how Bosch reacts to these uncharted territories whose rules he’s not familiar with and where unknown dangers come from the most unexpected places. 

 

My favorite side of this story comes from the relationship between Bosch and his daughter: as I mentioned often, I became familiar with this character through the TV series inspired by Connelly’s books - in there Maddie is already a teenager,  and the interactions between her and her father are among the highlights of the episodes, so seeing the first examples of that relationship here was a welcome addition. This novel also brings a pivotal change in Bosch’s life because at the end he finds himself in the role of a full-time father, so it will be interesting to see how this change will affect him both as a person and as a dedicated detective: where Bosch was able to dismiss previous emotional attachments if they interfered with his work, or his work ethics, now he can’t enjoy that luxury anymore. That’s why I spoke of poetic justice before: it would seem that fates finally got tired of his hubris and decided to give him a taste of the “medicine” he visited on others. 

 

Once again Michael Connelly puts his character through life-changing experiences, which helps maintaining it fresh and compelling, and this new twist in the detective’s lifestyle promises to be one that will require him to perform some mental adjustments and some professional transitions as well: I can’t wait to see how the new responsibilities of fatherhood will affect his work ethics and how his relationship with his teenaged daughter will transform his personal and professional life.  One thing is certain: this series continues to be delightfully unpredictable and completely intriguing, so my expectations for future installments remain quite high. 

 

Starter Villain by John Scalzi

adventurous funny lighthearted medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

 

I received this novel from Tor Books, through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review: my thanks to both of them for this opportunity. 

 

Every time a new Scalzi novel appears on the horizon, I know that I will find a fast-paced, humorous tale that enjoys poking fun at some of humanity’s flaws: Starter Villain is no exception, and it proved to be as riotously entertaining as I hoped for. 

 

Charlie Fitzer, a former journalist who lost his job and is now making ends meet by working as a substitute teacher, is besieged by financial problems: his current employ barely pays the bills and the house he’s living in might be taken from him since his half-siblings have every intention of  selling it, so he’s unable to use it as collateral for a loan that would allow him to buy a historical pub and give his life a new (and hopefully fruitful) direction.  Imagine then his surprise when he learns that his uncle Jake - a successful entrepreneur dealing in parking lots - just died and named him as his representative at the funeral ceremony: Charlie has not seen Uncle Jake since he was five years old, and all he knows about him is that Charlie’s father did not want his son to have any contact with the man. 

 

Charlie’s shocks are far from over, however: at the funeral - where many floral arrangements sport less than complimentary phrases - people seem more interested in confirming that Jake is really dead, and one of them even tries to knife the corpse. On top of all this, Charlie is contacted by his uncle’s administrators and learns he’s been named Jake’s successor - but not to the parking lots “empire”, because his uncle really was a very successful, highly placed criminal with a broad scope of interests. A villain. And Charlie must learn quickly how to step into his shoes… 

 

  Do you remember those older Bond movies where bad guys participated in vast, encompassing organizations dedicated to mayhem (think Spectre)? Where the main villain owned a secret retreat, usually on a deserted island, that was his base for the construction of some doomsday machine? And where said villain appeared usually stroking a cat?  Well, Starter Villain enjoys all these elements, and more.  The novel is a lovingly irreverent homage to those movies and tropes, with satellite-killing laser beams, secret vaults holding unimaginable riches, dastardly plots to influence world politics, and so on, all viewed through the progressively less innocent gaze of Charlie, who starts this adventure like the proverbial fish out of water but little by little shows a huge reservoir of pragmatic good sense and a shrewdness that keep him afloat (and alive!) in the very troubled waters he’s forced to navigate. 

 

Charlie is not alone in this adventure, though: back home he shared his life with two stray cats he had adopted, Hera and Persephone, and the final revelation in the avalanche of discoveries he’s subjected to is that some cats are quite intelligent and able to communicate through a special keyboard - Charlie’s two housecats belong to this peculiar category and were his uncle’s observers from day one.  I am aware, through John Scalzi’s social media, of the presence of both dogs and cats in his household, so this latest theme in the novel is indeed a way of showing his affection for his feline friends and a way of introducing a commentary on human foibles from the perspective of another species.  The discovery that these highly evolved cats hold executive positions and manage large funds in the organization is only one of the amusing revelations you can expect from Starter Villain. 

 

Cats are not the only sentient creatures you will find here, however: at some point Charlie is introduced to talking dolphins, who immediately present their labor grievances to the new boss, threatening a strike: this is one of the funniest sections of the story, both for the rude, foul-mouthed disposition of the cetaceans and for their chosen names which range from “Who Gives a S**t” to “Eat the Rich”. The dolphins’ names made me somehow think about the ships’ names in Banks’ Culture series: weird and funny at the same time, they were the perfect way of depicting those creatures’ attitude toward the rest of the world. 

 

The hilarious, improbable characters peopling this story are placed in an equally improbable (?) corporate setting in which the villainous organization operates through a subscription system and even holds yearly meetings in a luxurious environment - the trick here is to be able to survive the assassination attempts from the other… ahem… colleagues.  Don’t look for layered villains here: they are humorously depicted caricatures whose lack of subtlety is indeed the main attraction: they need only to be totally evil, and that’s what makes them perfect for the tone of the story. 

 

I had great fun with Starter Villain - no surprise there, what was unexpected was the ending of Charlie’s journey and the real reason for his uncle’s choice of successor. Unexpected but ultimately right for the kind of person Charlie is shown to be. Once again, I closed this latest Scalzi book with a big smile on my face, and that’s exactly what makes this author one of my favorite reading choices.