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Nnedi Okorafor’s Who Fears Death won the 2011 World Fantasy Award for best novel and made a number of other award shortlists and “Best of the Year” lists. This is a powerful book, one that looks unflinchingly at issues like rape and genocide, slavery...more
Nnedi Okorafor’s Who Fears Death won the 2011 World Fantasy Award for best novel and made a number of other award shortlists and “Best of the Year” lists. This is a powerful book, one that looks unflinchingly at issues like rape and genocide, slavery and female circumcision. Unlike many books I’ve read, Okorafor’s approach never felt exploitative; she writes honestly. The book is sometimes brutal and sometimes beautiful and occasionally both at once.
The book is set in post-apocalyptic Africa, and tells the story of Onyesonwu. The bones of Onyesonwu’s story will be familiar to fantasy readers. She is an outsider in her village, marked as a child of violence by her sand-colored hair and lighter skin. She possesses magical powers that she must learn to master. There is a prophecy she hopes to help bring about, one which leads her to leave her home and set off on a quest with her companions.
But Who Fears Death is so much more than a quest story. What impresses me most is that this book never looks away. It never glosses over beauty or ugliness, love or hate. It doesn’t present simple answers, and never shies away from the complexities and contradictions of life. Good things can come from the most evil or brutal acts, while evil and darkness can come from the best intentions.
Okorafor has talked about the genesis of Onyesonwu’s story, some of which is posted on the Amazon listing for the book.
“My father’s passing caused me to think about death, fear, the unknown, sacrifice, destiny and cosmic trickery. Only a week or so after my father’s passing, I read the Washington Post article, We Want to Make a Light Baby: Arab Militiamen in Sudan Said to Use Rape as Weapon of Ethnic Cleansing by Emily Wax. I was absolutely infuriated. The storytelling spider in my head started weaving faster. I realized that this article was showing me why the people in my story’s town disliked Onyesonwu and why she was so troubled.”
The result is a book that feels both universal and intimately personal.
The ending was fascinating, and while I’m not going to spoil things by going into details, I’ll say it’s another example of Okorafor refusing to follow the simple, oft-trod paths of the fantasy genre.
I suspect the book would be triggering for some readers due to rape and other violence, but with that disclaimer, I strongly recommend it.(less)
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This is the third book in her Riders of the Apocalypse series, but I picked it up without having read the others, and had no problem jumping into the story.
This is a book about Billy Ballard, a fifteen-year-old who is tricked into taking up the bow o...more
This is the third book in her Riders of the Apocalypse series, but I picked it up without having read the others, and had no problem jumping into the story.
This is a book about Billy Ballard, a fifteen-year-old who is tricked into taking up the bow of Pestilence, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. But first he must confront the old Pestilence, also known as the Conqueror, who … well, let’s just say that centuries on the job have done bad things to his sanity…
It’s also a book about bullying. Because Billy is that kid. The one everybody picks on. The one who gets teased, tormented, and beat up on a regular basis. The one the teachers ignore. The one the other kids avoid so as not to become targets themselves. The one who’s learned perfectly well that platitudes like, “Just ignore it” don’t do a damned thing.
Billy’s home life isn’t much better. He lives with his mother and grandfather, where most of the energy attention goes into managing his grandfather’s Alzheimer’s, keeping him from wandering into the street, cleaning up after him, and dealing with verbal and physical outbursts.
The Four Horsemen aren’t a new idea for fantasy. Piers Anthony’s Incarnations of Immortality was probably the first horsemen series I read. But Kessler’s take is more grounded, treating both the real world and the fantastic more seriously. These are real people with real conflicts and struggles and pain.
Except for Death. He’s not a real person. He’s just a badass.
I only had two complaints. By the end of the book, I wanted to know more about the horsemen, about their magic and origins and purpose in the world. But this might be something that’s covered in the first two books, so that could be my own problem.
Secondly … well, with a book like this, you know there’s got to be some sort of resolution between the bully and the hero. Without going into detail, that resolution didn’t really work for me.
Overall though, I think Kessler has done an admirable job with Loss. Billy’s struggle with bullies, his dread of walking into certain classes, the way he plans out his schedule every day to give him the best chance of avoiding certain tormenters, it feels real and at times all too familiar. And I loved Pestilence’s horse.
The short version: I read the book in a day and a half, and I hope to go back and read the first two.(less)
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The story is set in the fifteenth century in the fictional Romanian kingdom of Sylvania. Reveka is an apprentice herbalist, though thanks to her studies, she’s as skilled and knowledgeable as her master, if not moreso. She’s determined to break the c...more
The story is set in the fifteenth century in the fictional Romanian kingdom of Sylvania. Reveka is an apprentice herbalist, though thanks to her studies, she’s as skilled and knowledgeable as her master, if not moreso. She’s determined to break the curse on the twelve princesses and use the reward money to gain a position as an herbalist for an entire abbey.
For those unfamiliar with the fairy tale, the twelve princesses disappear every night, returning in the morning exhausted, their shoes worn to tatters. All who try to watch and see where they go fall asleep. In Haskell’s version, it’s a sleep from which they never awake, a coma which eventually leads to death.
This is basically a two-act book. In the first half, we follow Reveka’s investigation into the curse, an investigation which grows more urgent as people she knows and cares for fall into the cursed sleep, and neighboring kingdoms prepare for war upon Sylvania. Act two takes on a more mythological and otherworldly feel … and that’s about all I can say without spoiling things.
The Princess Curse is a fast read. At times, some of the complexities of the warring kingdoms and such felt a bit rushed, and I occasionally lost track of secondary characters (it’s hard to keep track of twelve princesses, let alone everyone else). I suspect this was in part due to its being written for a YA audience.
I like Reveka a lot, and not just because Reveka could totally be a goblin name. She’s smart, determined, impulsive, and very human. Her study of herbalism and the way she applies her knowledge to various problems adds a lot to the story. She is in many ways a scientist in a fantastic world. I approve.
So if anyone here is into fairy tale retellings with smart, independent heroines, I’d suggest heading over to Harper Collins to check out the first three chapters.(less)
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After I finished reading this book, I spent several weeks trying to figure out how best to review it. I kept coming back to the word “thoughtful.” Everything from the worldbuilding and mythology to character to sentence and word choice.
The book opens...more
After I finished reading this book, I spent several weeks trying to figure out how best to review it. I kept coming back to the word “thoughtful.” Everything from the worldbuilding and mythology to character to sentence and word choice.
The book opens to Temur, heir to the Khaganate, stumbling through a battlefield. His hand has gone numb from clasping the bloody gash along the side of his neck– You know what? Let me just give you a few paragraphs from the first page.
Beyond the horizon, a city lay burning.
Having once turned his back on smoke and sunset alike, Temur kept walking. Or lurching. His bowlegged gait bore witness to more hours of his life spent astride than afoot, but no lean, long-necked pony bore him now. His good dun mare, with her coat that gleamed like gold-backed mirrors in the sun, had been cut from under him…
He walked because he could not bear to fall. Not here, not on this red earth. Not here among so many he had fought with and fought against.
And then you have Samarkar, who fled her home and gave up her title for the hope of becoming a wizard.
When the news of the fall of Qarash reached Tsarepheth, the Once-Princess Samarkar did not even know that a woman in red and saffron robes sat alongside her, because on that day Samarkar lay drowsy with poppy among rugs and bolsters in her room high up in the Citadel of wizards. Silk wraps wadded absorbent lint against a seeping wound low in her abdomen. When she woke–if she woke–she would no longer be the Once-Princess Samarkar. She would be the wizard Samarkar, and her training would begin in truth.
She had chosen to trade barrenness and the risk of death for the chance of strength.
One thing I think both of these introductions capture is the complexity of Bear’s writing. Wizardry isn’t a simple thing; you pay a price, and there’s no guarantee you’ll gain the power you hope for. We meet Temur as his dreams of battle and glory have been shattered by reality. In many stories, we see characters who change by the end of the tale. In this book, we meet characters already in flux, scared and confused and struggling.
I should mention the plot too, right? Okay, let’s see … we’ve got warring kingdoms and dark magic and gods and armies of ghosts and tiger warriors and kidnapped lovers and a journey over a fascinating world.
The world is one of my favorite parts of the books. This is a world where the sky literally changes depending on the nature of the kingdom below. In Temur’s land, there are moons for every heir, including himself. He looks up at the night sky to see which of his cousins have died based on how many of those moons have vanished. And then, later, he crosses into another land, and his family’s moons are nowhere to be seen. I love it.
Bear also does a wonderful job on her horses. I’m no expert, so I can’t say if she got every detail right, but she certainly avoided the “Horses = medieval motorcycles” mistake some epic fantasies fall into, and Temur’s new mare Bansh is one of the best characters in the book.
I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone looking for a quick read. Thoughtful writing requires thoughtful reading, and I couldn’t zip through this one the way I do some books. But if you’re looking for more complex, non-Western epic fantasy, I’d definitely suggest checking it out.
I will note that this is book one of a series, so you shouldn’t go in expecting things to be all wrapped up by the end.(less)
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Arctic Rising is a bit of a change from other Tobias Buckell books I’ve read. While it’s definitely science fiction, it’s near-future SF with a strong “thriller” feel. (The genre, not the Michael Jackson song. There are no dancing zombies in this boo...more
Arctic Rising is a bit of a change from other Tobias Buckell books I’ve read. While it’s definitely science fiction, it’s near-future SF with a strong “thriller” feel. (The genre, not the Michael Jackson song. There are no dancing zombies in this book.)
The protagonist is Anika Duncan, an airship pilot for the U.N. Polar Guard who gets shot down after discovering a nuclear missile being smuggled into the Arctic. She soon finds herself in the middle of a global power struggle. The Gaia Corporation have devised a plan to reverse global warming, but the technology can also be used as a deadly superweapon. (And I can’t say what the technology is without spoiling things, which sucks, because it’s pretty darn cool.)
I like the extrapolation Buckell has done on a world where the icecaps continue to melt and the oceans continue to rise. He’s done his research, and it shows. (Some aspects of the book should be familiar to anyone who reads his blog.) The dwindling ice caps create a rush to tap previously inaccessible oil reserves, leading to a proliferation of arctic settlements and colonies. Those settlements in the arctic have a bit of a science fiction feel as well, which was fun. Yes, I’m reading the book through more of an SF lens than a thriller one.
This was a pretty fast read, with colorful characters, a bit of dangerous romance, international intrigue, spies, guns, all leading to a desperate, high-stakes climax.
If you’re familiar with Buckell’s work, this book has some of his trademarks: awareness that there’s more to the world than the United States; significant nonwhite characters (Anika is neither white nor straight); sailing ships written by someone who’s actually lived on one; and lots of action.
Given that climate change is a hot political topic right now, I suspect some readers will denigrate the book as leftist liberal propaganda, and that’s unfortunate. I’ll admit there were a few points early on where I felt like the message started to overtake the story. But then I started wondering if this was due to the fact that in the U. S., any mention of climate change has become so highly politicized. In other words, it’s not that Buckell is preaching; it’s more that political groups have been screaming and squawking and flat-out lying at me about global warming issues for so long that it affected my reading of the book, which is unfortunate.
Overall, Arctic Rising does exactly what a lot of good science fiction does: examines the current science and research, makes predictions about the future, and writes a rousing story about that future.(less)
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Throne of the Crescent Moon is Saladin Ahmed’s first fantasy novel.
It’s good. You should read it.
What, you want more? Okay, fine. Here’s the official summary from the publisher:
The Crescent Moon Kingdoms, land of djenn and ghuls, holy warriors and he...more
Throne of the Crescent Moon is Saladin Ahmed’s first fantasy novel.
It’s good. You should read it.
What, you want more? Okay, fine. Here’s the official summary from the publisher:
The Crescent Moon Kingdoms, land of djenn and ghuls, holy warriors and heretics, Khalifs and killers, is at the boiling point of a power struggle between the iron-fisted Khalif and the mysterious master thief known as the Falcon Prince. In the midst of this brewing rebellion a series of brutal supernatural murders strikes at the heart of the Kingdoms. It is up to a handful of heroes to learn the truth behind these killings.
One of those heroes is Doctor Adoulla Makhslood, “the last real ghul hunter in the great city of Dhamsawaat,” and he’s awesome. He’s old, he’s burnt out, and dammitall he’s doing the best he can. He’s not invulnerable or superhuman, and he’s facing a darkness more powerful than anything he’s encountered in his long career as a ghul hunter.
You also have Raseed bas Raseed, a badass holy warrior whose time with Adoulla creates a wonderful conflict between the rigid purity of Raseed’s religious beliefs and the messiness of the real world. He and Adoulla are joined by Zamia Badawi, who is just as deadly as Raseed, but where Raseed is disciplined and focused, Badawi is raw and passionate and angry.
Ahmed does a great job with his characters, making you feel for them in a way few authors can. The worldbuilding was refreshing as well. I love that Adoulla’s magic is faith-based, and the contrast between his faith and Raseed’s. The city, the tribes, the history … everything feels real. Ahmed isn’t just slapping in two-dimensional set pieces.
The book gets rather dark at time. Our villains are genuinely Evil, and that comes through from page one.
Much as I loved this book (and I’ll definitely be picking up the next), the ending didn’t sit quite right with me, and I’ve been trying to figure out why. It’s hard to get into details without spoiling things, but I think it comes down to the emotional payoff not quite matching up to what I was hoping for. That might just be a matter of personal taste.
Overall, a strong first novel, and I’m looking forward to the sequel.(less)
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Shadow Ops: Control Point is a military fantasy from Myke Cole. Myke has experience both with fantasy (I first encountered him online when he was reading submissions for Weird Tales) and the military (three tours in Iraq - I recommend reading his tho...more
Shadow Ops: Control Point is a military fantasy from Myke Cole. Myke has experience both with fantasy (I first encountered him online when he was reading submissions for Weird Tales) and the military (three tours in Iraq - I recommend reading his thoughts on the end of the Iraq war). So it’s no surprise that his debut novel has a lot going for it.
The book is set in a world where magic has returned, leading to all kinds of messiness. Oscar Britton is a lieutenant attached to the Supernatural Operations Corps, a military unit which helps to neutralize rogue magic users. But then, after a particularly intense mission, Britton manifests magic of his own. He creates a magical gate to another dimension. Unfortunately, this particular school of magic is, how should I put this … it’s “prohibited with extreme prejudice.”
So Britton makes a run for it. According to U.S. law, he’s earned himself a death sentence. Instead, the military tracks him down and offers him another choice: join a unit that doesn’t officially exist, and join the real fight against magical threats.
This is not a warm and fuzzy book. It’s fast-paced, intense, and at times brutal. Britton is a flawed protagonist, and he makes his share of serious mistakes. While I occasionally wanted to yell, “Dude, WTF are you doing?” I could also understand why he made the choices he did. He’s a good, conflicted character.
Actually, “conflicted” is a good word for the book as a whole. Nothing is simple; there are no straightforward right or wrong answers. Cole does a good job of presenting the messiness of a world where a teenager could wake up one day with the power to massacre an police force, and the costs of trying to protect people in such a world.
This is an ambitious, thoughtful, and at times brutal book. It’s got a different feel than most of the fantasy I’ve read lately, and I’m glad my agent was able to hook me up with a review copy.
But the MOST IMPORTANT thing here is that the book has goblins, and they’re pretty damn awesome.(less)
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Dead Matter is the third book in Anton Strout’s light urban fantasy series, in which Department of Extraordinary Affairs agent Simon Canderous uses psychometry and a big bat to fight the nasties of New York.
Our story begins with Simon’s partner Conno...more
Dead Matter is the third book in Anton Strout’s light urban fantasy series, in which Department of Extraordinary Affairs agent Simon Canderous uses psychometry and a big bat to fight the nasties of New York.
Our story begins with Simon’s partner Connor taking a sabbatical to look for his missing brother, leaving poor Simon to cover twice the workload. Simon eventually manages to slip away for some personal time with his girlfriend (ex-cultist and technomancer Jane). Naturally, given Simon’s luck, Taco Night is interrupted by an angry, lumbering monster with lots of pointy bits.
Pointy monster is just the beginning. Simon, Jane, and Connor slowly uncover a bigger problem — one which puts Simon in the crosshairs of just about everyone, monster and human alike.
I like this series. I like the sense of fun, and there’s much less angst than in your average urban fantasy. (Though sometimes it feels like Strout is trying a little too hard for the funny.) Like the previous two books, this one is a quick read. My only complaint is that the beginning meandered a bit. Taco Night monster seemed like a random encounter, and it took a few chapters to start to get a sense of a larger story.
Dead Matter stands alone pretty well, but you’ll get more out of it if you’ve read the first two books in the series.(less)
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