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yak_attak's reviews
762 reviews
The Assassins of Thasalon by Lois McMaster Bujold
2.0
Assassins of Thasalon might be the first time I'm genuinely disappointed with a work by Bujold - for much of the Penric and Desdemona series, though I don't think they're particularly more interesting than an amusing trifle, I've been looking forward to this book, particularly for its length. Many of the Penric stories are fun little vignettes, but end far too quickly or tamely to be much of note. The hope was that the full length would let Bujold stretch out a bit, get wild, and get to something a little stranger, more like Chalion, or Paladin.
Unfortunately, Assassins of Thasalon is honestly just another Penric story, only long. It bears no further insight, or weight from the strength of its length, and though it serves as somewhat of a capstone to this particular story arc, there isn't more of a sense of theme or importance than before. Penric goes through his task blithely and in a described orderly manner, and much of the action is literally left to divine intervention. Much of the length of the novel is instead padded with the characters describing to each new person they meet, the events of the novel, up to that point. And then again with the next set. And again with the next. Add in Penric's incessant need to explain the magic system (which we've gotten in all 9 other novellas, and shorter) and it's just boring. The first Bujold book to be so. And Hopefully the last.
Unfortunately, Assassins of Thasalon is honestly just another Penric story, only long. It bears no further insight, or weight from the strength of its length, and though it serves as somewhat of a capstone to this particular story arc, there isn't more of a sense of theme or importance than before. Penric goes through his task blithely and in a described orderly manner, and much of the action is literally left to divine intervention. Much of the length of the novel is instead padded with the characters describing to each new person they meet, the events of the novel, up to that point. And then again with the next set. And again with the next. Add in Penric's incessant need to explain the magic system (which we've gotten in all 9 other novellas, and shorter) and it's just boring. The first Bujold book to be so. And Hopefully the last.
Ethan of Athos by Lois McMaster Bujold
4.0
Ethan of Athos is a fast, riveting story throwing a fish-out-of-water character into intergalactic intrigue and spy vs. spy. Though things get dangerous at times, it's broadly a more lighthearted fare from Bujold, the main quirk being that, in her typical fashion she gives us an unexpected and carefully crafted main character - a conservative, religious, misogynist man from a planet with no women. Though this sounds about as dour as possible, Bujold balances expertly both pairing him with the go-getter lady who upstages him constantly, but also not pushing things too far. This isn't a story about a man *entirely* learning he's wrong from start to finish, it's simpler than that. More realistic, and the hesitancy pays off in the end.
As always, Bujold tells a great story. Maybe not the best in the Saga, but a highlight for sure in its own way.
As always, Bujold tells a great story. Maybe not the best in the Saga, but a highlight for sure in its own way.
Exordia by Seth Dickinson
4.5
Gone is the Seth Dickinson of Traitor Baru. I mourn for him. After the sequels and this, I'm not sure I'm confident he'll deliver as razor honed a book as that again. But if the only thing bad about a book I really have to say is "well it's not quite as good as Traitor Baru Fucking Cormorant," well we're on to something here huh. No, this Seth Dickinson is evolved beyond mortals. His hippocampi swelling to enormous proportions, he looks down at us with his distended psychic cranium and laughs.
(And if your experience with Traitor Baru Cormorant was to find it plodding and dull, just run away from this book entirely. Trust.)
No, instead this Seth Dickinson is painfully smart, and wants you to know it. This is sheerly impressive, a joy to read, and also aggravating, in turn. Exordia is absolutely packed. Seth Dickinson knows physics. He knows Biology. He knows the worldwide political intricacies under the Obama administration, he knows religious beliefs of Kurdish refugees, he knows nerdy trivia from the 2000's, he knows military callsigns and technical details of battleships, he knows existential philosophy and narratology. Moreover, he wants you to know it all - not necessarily that he knows it, though in part it does become more self-serving that you'd hope - but because it all combines, coalescing into this marvelous messy ball of thought, of pattern, of culture, of detail, and creates.... well I'm not quite sure in the end if the juice is worth the squeeze, but you bet your ass I'm going to be thinking about this book for ages.
This is a modern book, with modern characters, a range of people, beliefs, truly world-wide in a way many stories claim to be and fail at, and Dickinson manages to sell it believably. There are two main drawbacks here - one, because it's a modern book, there's that annoying tendency to drop in callbacks to cultural in-jokes and memes (There's a damn 'jet fuel can't melt steel beams' pun I groaned at), and depending on your taste for this, this book could certainly be very annoying. I think he's aware, and managed a good balance overall, but, still, more than I'd like personally. Secondarily, this is a book full of Smart People Talking. All the topics in that previous paragraph - science, philosophy, and what not? Everyone in the book discusses them at length, continuously and constantly, to the point where your eyes will glaze over a bit, and all the characters become just a *bit* more samey than you'd like. Ah well - the thing is, what he does with it is genius.
This is an alien invasion story, and one of the coolest things is he treats the aliens, and their inherently unknowable being as... just another topic to expound upon. Rather than having the affect of trivializing them, it instead makes them as real as anything else, forcing you to really come to grips with whatever the fuck horrifying technology they have next- whether that's an electron thin, kilometer long sword, or (literally) Narrative Destiny.
... and yeah, it's all building to talk about stories. How we as a people interact with them, find ourselves as the heroes, villains, or expendable bodies in each others stories, and the ways Dickinson plays with that are incredible. The ways he presents alien body horror and the hell of warfare are incredible. The ways he brings together a truly wonderful international cast that you root for (even at the expense of each other), and then absolutely destroys them... incredible. This book will make you feel as big brain as Seth Dickinson, and have a blast along the way... as long as you can keep up with the rambling at the same time.
The last note I'll make is basically that I hope this is a standalone? Not because I want more Baru (I do) but even though we're left on more of a cliff-hanger than you'd typically like, I don't know that this story will work to continue... Drawing out the conflict... what will it add? I'm not sure if there's more there. But Seth Dickinson has proven me wrong before.
(And if your experience with Traitor Baru Cormorant was to find it plodding and dull, just run away from this book entirely. Trust.)
No, instead this Seth Dickinson is painfully smart, and wants you to know it. This is sheerly impressive, a joy to read, and also aggravating, in turn. Exordia is absolutely packed. Seth Dickinson knows physics. He knows Biology. He knows the worldwide political intricacies under the Obama administration, he knows religious beliefs of Kurdish refugees, he knows nerdy trivia from the 2000's, he knows military callsigns and technical details of battleships, he knows existential philosophy and narratology. Moreover, he wants you to know it all - not necessarily that he knows it, though in part it does become more self-serving that you'd hope - but because it all combines, coalescing into this marvelous messy ball of thought, of pattern, of culture, of detail, and creates.... well I'm not quite sure in the end if the juice is worth the squeeze, but you bet your ass I'm going to be thinking about this book for ages.
This is a modern book, with modern characters, a range of people, beliefs, truly world-wide in a way many stories claim to be and fail at, and Dickinson manages to sell it believably. There are two main drawbacks here - one, because it's a modern book, there's that annoying tendency to drop in callbacks to cultural in-jokes and memes (There's a damn 'jet fuel can't melt steel beams' pun I groaned at), and depending on your taste for this, this book could certainly be very annoying. I think he's aware, and managed a good balance overall, but, still, more than I'd like personally. Secondarily, this is a book full of Smart People Talking. All the topics in that previous paragraph - science, philosophy, and what not? Everyone in the book discusses them at length, continuously and constantly, to the point where your eyes will glaze over a bit, and all the characters become just a *bit* more samey than you'd like. Ah well - the thing is, what he does with it is genius.
This is an alien invasion story, and one of the coolest things is he treats the aliens, and their inherently unknowable being as... just another topic to expound upon. Rather than having the affect of trivializing them, it instead makes them as real as anything else, forcing you to really come to grips with whatever the fuck horrifying technology they have next- whether that's an electron thin, kilometer long sword, or (literally) Narrative Destiny.
... and yeah, it's all building to talk about stories. How we as a people interact with them, find ourselves as the heroes, villains, or expendable bodies in each others stories, and the ways Dickinson plays with that are incredible. The ways he presents alien body horror and the hell of warfare are incredible. The ways he brings together a truly wonderful international cast that you root for (even at the expense of each other), and then absolutely destroys them... incredible. This book will make you feel as big brain as Seth Dickinson, and have a blast along the way... as long as you can keep up with the rambling at the same time.
The last note I'll make is basically that I hope this is a standalone? Not because I want more Baru (I do) but even though we're left on more of a cliff-hanger than you'd typically like, I don't know that this story will work to continue... Drawing out the conflict... what will it add? I'm not sure if there's more there. But Seth Dickinson has proven me wrong before.
All's Well That Ends Well by William Shakespeare
2.5
It may be that this just wasn't the time for more Shakespeare, and I needed something a little more straightforward. Even if it were not, All's Well that Ends Well wouldn't be my first choice of Will's work - its plot is just a little too obscured and messy, full of meandering scenes that set up action that doesn't really happen until the end. It's got some good ideas, some great characters, and yeah, some fun scenes (Parolles being tricked is too fun not to love) but on the whole it feels unfinished, like the sketch of another comedy Shakespeare succeeded at.
Everyone In This Room Will Someday Be Dead by Emily Austin
4.5
I have anxiety. Particularly about driving. I'm honestly pretty *good* at it, that's the thing, I know that's something that everyone says/thinks, but I think I genuinely am somewhat better than your average joe at driving. I enjoy it. It's freeing, it's fun, I get to listen to my tunes....I also spend just about the entire time doing it in a constant state of anxiety thinking up the next insane possibility as to how the entire interstate is going to spontaneously crash and we'll all die, and what I need to do to even have a *remote* chance of survival. If I have to drive first thing in the morning, I'll undoubtedly be up late thinking about how driving is an absolutely horrifyingly dangerous method of transportation, that we could do anything and it'd probably be better, and how there's no way I'll make it if I go.
Then I get up in the morning and go and am fine.
Reading this book is like forcing yourself into that mental state. The protagonist Gilda has anxiety and depression to such an obscene degree that she's become a shell, a response robot who will say or do anything to just have an interaction end safely, without having made things awkward, or really even notable. There's a ridiculous level this goes to, leading to some pretty goofy situations, but the core concept here is so painfully relatable, you have to be self aware of it in yourself to really I think have fun with this book.
And oh is this book fun. The best aspect is how dang fucking funny this book is. It never (but for one or two sting quotes at the end of sections) really sets itself up to be comedic, but its total blackness, and its embracing of the absurdity of it, just hits so well on every page. Gilda digs herself a new hole, ever deeper, ever more entrenched in the most inane lies. It's constantly delightful, if again, always reflecting back at you.
All that said, this is a textbook example of a book that I will have enjoyed immensely reading and basically forget tomorrow - minus the relatability of existential dread, it kinda ends up on a big old nothing in the last few pages. Honestly, if Austin had gone for the darker ending, stopping the book like 20 pages earlier I might have been fully on board. As it is, it's still great - very much readable, and very much "makes you feel seen" to anyone with anxiety.
Then I get up in the morning and go and am fine.
Reading this book is like forcing yourself into that mental state. The protagonist Gilda has anxiety and depression to such an obscene degree that she's become a shell, a response robot who will say or do anything to just have an interaction end safely, without having made things awkward, or really even notable. There's a ridiculous level this goes to, leading to some pretty goofy situations, but the core concept here is so painfully relatable, you have to be self aware of it in yourself to really I think have fun with this book.
And oh is this book fun. The best aspect is how dang fucking funny this book is. It never (but for one or two sting quotes at the end of sections) really sets itself up to be comedic, but its total blackness, and its embracing of the absurdity of it, just hits so well on every page. Gilda digs herself a new hole, ever deeper, ever more entrenched in the most inane lies. It's constantly delightful, if again, always reflecting back at you.
All that said, this is a textbook example of a book that I will have enjoyed immensely reading and basically forget tomorrow - minus the relatability of existential dread, it kinda ends up on a big old nothing in the last few pages. Honestly, if Austin had gone for the darker ending, stopping the book like 20 pages earlier I might have been fully on board. As it is, it's still great - very much readable, and very much "makes you feel seen" to anyone with anxiety.
Howling Dark by Christopher Ruocchio
Howling Dark is a solid step up from Empire of Silence, expanding and stretching the premise in cool exciting ways, but it's also kinda a disappointment - everyone else seems to be wholeheartedly in on this series by the end of this book, and it's just simply not there for me yet.
First, the good, which is primarily wrapped up in Ruocchio's world, and willingness to Go There. Things get weird, trippy, and confusing. Things get dark, depraved, horrifying. There's a strong emphasis here on a chthonic bleakness - Lovecraftian yes, but even more specific than that - this solid immensity that he does so well - ruins, spaceships, and metal monstrosities, all are on display here in prime form. I don't know if I really like the actual *descriptions* of the environments (I remain completely confused what anything looks like or how anything works or is laid out), but hey the atmosphere formed is utterly fantastic.
Moreover, the characters actually get a chance to shine here. I can't say I like Hadrian much still, but he's at least fleshed out quite a bit more here than just "What if Paul Atreides was also whats his name from Gladiator." There's still a dearth of secondary characters for him to work against, we get countless names but none of them worth your time except two - Valka is again a strong presence whenever she shows up (arguably the best formed character, including Hadrian), but also now we get a really cool, creepy antagonist whose motives I'm not entirely sure make sense, but dang I like him a lot. So there's a solid core to base the book around.
And there's excitement, there's action, it's still big and fun and impressive and readable, but it's also just kinda... not doing much with it? There are questions brought up, especially around personhood, clones, cybertronics and body modification, but I don't know that much is ever done with it beyond using it as a background for cool (and they are cool) body horror scenes. I don't know that much is ever done with Hadrian's (what could be fascinating!) genetic tinkering, or the alien cultures... Partially it's because this book ends in such a downer place that maybe I'm just disappointed in the plot, but it seems like we brought up all this cool stuff and then systematically shut it down in the simplest, most direct way possible, and now we're back to square one. Huh. Okay.
And I really don't know that Ruocchio's writing is good enough to sell it. We see everything through Hadrian's writing, as an old man, looking back talking about his life - this creates this endless affectation around which all the prose is based of this dialogue back and forth and while I enjoy it in touches, after two full (big!) books of the same patterns used over and over, I'm not sure it helps so much as bogs everything down. Future Hadrian tells us what past Hadrian thought might be the case, but then it turns out he's wrong, and OH but in the FUTURE Hadrian will know so mUCH MORE and just like... tell me the dang thing already. It's rare I'm asking for tomes to be edited down, I liked to bask in and savor a long book, but I legit felt it at times. Things repeated, sentences, words, plot beats, and it just felt stretched out.
So: Cool, big, explosions and robots and aliens and shit like that, but I want just that touch more for it to really be a favorite, and I'm less confident that the series is going to deliver on it now.
First, the good, which is primarily wrapped up in Ruocchio's world, and willingness to Go There. Things get weird, trippy, and confusing. Things get dark, depraved, horrifying. There's a strong emphasis here on a chthonic bleakness - Lovecraftian yes, but even more specific than that - this solid immensity that he does so well - ruins, spaceships, and metal monstrosities, all are on display here in prime form. I don't know if I really like the actual *descriptions* of the environments (I remain completely confused what anything looks like or how anything works or is laid out), but hey the atmosphere formed is utterly fantastic.
Moreover, the characters actually get a chance to shine here. I can't say I like Hadrian much still, but he's at least fleshed out quite a bit more here than just "What if Paul Atreides was also whats his name from Gladiator." There's still a dearth of secondary characters for him to work against, we get countless names but none of them worth your time except two - Valka is again a strong presence whenever she shows up (arguably the best formed character, including Hadrian), but also now we get a really cool, creepy antagonist whose motives I'm not entirely sure make sense, but dang I like him a lot. So there's a solid core to base the book around.
And there's excitement, there's action, it's still big and fun and impressive and readable, but it's also just kinda... not doing much with it? There are questions brought up, especially around personhood, clones, cybertronics and body modification, but I don't know that much is ever done with it beyond using it as a background for cool (and they are cool) body horror scenes. I don't know that much is ever done with Hadrian's (what could be fascinating!) genetic tinkering, or the alien cultures... Partially it's because this book ends in such a downer place that maybe I'm just disappointed in the plot, but it seems like we brought up all this cool stuff and then systematically shut it down in the simplest, most direct way possible, and now we're back to square one. Huh. Okay.
And I really don't know that Ruocchio's writing is good enough to sell it. We see everything through Hadrian's writing, as an old man, looking back talking about his life - this creates this endless affectation around which all the prose is based of this dialogue back and forth and while I enjoy it in touches, after two full (big!) books of the same patterns used over and over, I'm not sure it helps so much as bogs everything down. Future Hadrian tells us what past Hadrian thought might be the case, but then it turns out he's wrong, and OH but in the FUTURE Hadrian will know so mUCH MORE and just like... tell me the dang thing already. It's rare I'm asking for tomes to be edited down, I liked to bask in and savor a long book, but I legit felt it at times. Things repeated, sentences, words, plot beats, and it just felt stretched out.
So: Cool, big, explosions and robots and aliens and shit like that, but I want just that touch more for it to really be a favorite, and I'm less confident that the series is going to deliver on it now.
The Story of the Lost Child by Elena Ferrante
5.0
The conclusion to this series is just wonderful. Shocking beauty and crushing melancholy, Ferrante's finale brings things into a triumphant, horrible circle, bringing our characters back together in a way we haven't seen since the first, and continuing cycles of life, death, birth, crime, trauma, and friendship into their clear, necessary conclusion. The story earns its place as one of the best examples of first person writing, of fictional biography, of girlhood, of womanhood, of friendship, etc. that I can think of.
Surely if you've read the others there's no need to hype this one, it's very much more of the same, if you liked the others you'll like this one, if you don't like book one, just stop there. Concluding thoughts - it's excellent, read it.
Surely if you've read the others there's no need to hype this one, it's very much more of the same, if you liked the others you'll like this one, if you don't like book one, just stop there. Concluding thoughts - it's excellent, read it.
Strange Beasts of China by Yan Ge
4.0
Strange Beasts of China is an odd book, a collection of interweaving short stories, each about an individual titular 'beast', who exist in some sort of allegory towards the overlooked and downtrodden. The stories explore the ways these people on the edges of society live, love, exist, and die, with their odd ways, habits and cultures, and the ways society at large might reify or stereotype them into something else.
However, there's a level to which the allegory is just completely opaque - and though I don't want to say that the book "needs to be saying something in particular", there's an open ended quality that just gets frustrating after awhile. The stories are fairly cyclical, after two or three you know what all the main beats of each of them are going to be, and so you end up wanting something a little deeper alongside.
The part that works less is the overarching connective tissue of the book, each story being strung together by the daily diary of an aspiring writer, her relationship with her mother, her old professor, a dive bar, etc. The ways the beasts are brought in are usually quite interesting and inspired, but after the distant father figure called to berate her for the fourth time I quickly got bored - again, very cyclical, and though that leads to a nice revelation at the end, I think this part of the story drags more than you'd like.
Still, there's poignancy here, and it's all wrapped up in a charming, magical-but dark (oh my, some of the stories are quite dismal) series of tales that reveal Yan Ge's heartfelt compassion towards the lost and abused.
Favorite story was likely the Flourishing Beasts
However, there's a level to which the allegory is just completely opaque - and though I don't want to say that the book "needs to be saying something in particular", there's an open ended quality that just gets frustrating after awhile. The stories are fairly cyclical, after two or three you know what all the main beats of each of them are going to be, and so you end up wanting something a little deeper alongside.
The part that works less is the overarching connective tissue of the book, each story being strung together by the daily diary of an aspiring writer, her relationship with her mother, her old professor, a dive bar, etc. The ways the beasts are brought in are usually quite interesting and inspired, but after the distant father figure called to berate her for the fourth time I quickly got bored - again, very cyclical, and though that leads to a nice revelation at the end, I think this part of the story drags more than you'd like.
Still, there's poignancy here, and it's all wrapped up in a charming, magical-but dark (oh my, some of the stories are quite dismal) series of tales that reveal Yan Ge's heartfelt compassion towards the lost and abused.
Favorite story was likely the Flourishing Beasts
Deadhouse Gates by Steven Erikson
5.0
Gardens of the Moon is a great book, a troubling introduction, but one with awesome imagination, vista, characters, plots, and though it's slightly brought down by Erikson's initial attempts at juggling something so large, it serves as a fantastic entry into the canon of epic fantasy.
Deadhouse Gates, on the other hand, is where he shows his teeth. Somewhere in the 9 years that separated the writing of the two books, Erikson leveled the hell up. Or Ascended. Here we are book 2, and immediately things are stronger, poignant, subtly crafted and impossibly cool. Book freaking number 2 into this monolithic saga and already we're at All-Timer status.
I may be just a little bit biased.
Jumping to an entirely new part of the world from book 1, and introducing (mostly) a new cast, we're inundated even further with detailed cultures, factions, characters, and motivations to the point where it swamps even the already titanic Gardens - in many ways this is an even more complex book than the first, but somehow Erikson's managed to hammer out his style and prose into something damn simple, laying it all out for you in philosophical grandeur. The characters are far more engaging and present this time around, and each of the main PoV plotlines, weaving in and out around each other easily have call to be a fan favorite.
The single, sole minor quibble I have here is that, now that I know what's going to happen, it does feel like the first third takes its sweet time setting things up and letting them play out before the floodgates open. But since this gives Erikson space to play in and expand the world in a way the series would be weaker without, and since each of the meticulously crafted plotlines pays off brilliantly by the end... Fuck, I wouldn't change a thing.
And this is my.... 6th? favorite book in this series. Yeah. Read Malazan.
Deadhouse Gates, on the other hand, is where he shows his teeth. Somewhere in the 9 years that separated the writing of the two books, Erikson leveled the hell up. Or Ascended. Here we are book 2, and immediately things are stronger, poignant, subtly crafted and impossibly cool. Book freaking number 2 into this monolithic saga and already we're at All-Timer status.
I may be just a little bit biased.
Jumping to an entirely new part of the world from book 1, and introducing (mostly) a new cast, we're inundated even further with detailed cultures, factions, characters, and motivations to the point where it swamps even the already titanic Gardens - in many ways this is an even more complex book than the first, but somehow Erikson's managed to hammer out his style and prose into something damn simple, laying it all out for you in philosophical grandeur. The characters are far more engaging and present this time around, and each of the main PoV plotlines, weaving in and out around each other easily have call to be a fan favorite.
The single, sole minor quibble I have here is that, now that I know what's going to happen, it does feel like the first third takes its sweet time setting things up and letting them play out before the floodgates open. But since this gives Erikson space to play in and expand the world in a way the series would be weaker without, and since each of the meticulously crafted plotlines pays off brilliantly by the end... Fuck, I wouldn't change a thing.
And this is my.... 6th? favorite book in this series. Yeah. Read Malazan.
Bride of the Tornado by James Kennedy
3.0
Bride of the Tornado is surrealist coming of age horror, Americana small town, sneaking out at night, riding your bikes around, and all the connotations and images those ideas conjure. A great sense of melancholy and adolescent loneliness permeates the pages. The horror is done with style and aplomb, imagery is vivid and absolutely disgusting, inventive and surprising. And for much of the book it's quite snappy, readable, and engaging...
I just don't know to what end, really. There's a part of me that wants to attribute some higher, 4D chess level conniving to the author, that I just don't understand the work - but I'm not entirely sure that's correct either. There's just, and this seems like such an annoying complaint, just absolutely no 'why' behind any of this. Weird small town, teenagers, tornados, tornado killers, religious allegory. You get what it says on the tin and no deeper. I don't necessarily need a book to tell me what to think about it, but there's not much of a sense that there *is* anything to think about. It's just a story, the end, game over.
There are other nitpicks, but they're minor. Some unnecessary fatphobia, and the prose tends to devolve into these really annoying short sentences whenever something scary happens, which distracts and becomes fairly irritating to read by the end. But the core issue here is just that 'why' and without that - and maybe I'm just a dumbass, sure - I don't know who I'd give this to really.
I just don't know to what end, really. There's a part of me that wants to attribute some higher, 4D chess level conniving to the author, that I just don't understand the work - but I'm not entirely sure that's correct either. There's just, and this seems like such an annoying complaint, just absolutely no 'why' behind any of this. Weird small town, teenagers, tornados, tornado killers, religious allegory. You get what it says on the tin and no deeper. I don't necessarily need a book to tell me what to think about it, but there's not much of a sense that there *is* anything to think about. It's just a story, the end, game over.
There are other nitpicks, but they're minor. Some unnecessary fatphobia, and the prose tends to devolve into these really annoying short sentences whenever something scary happens, which distracts and becomes fairly irritating to read by the end. But the core issue here is just that 'why' and without that - and maybe I'm just a dumbass, sure - I don't know who I'd give this to really.