Adrian Collins's Blog, page 108

The Toxic Side of Fandom

Being a fan of fantasy is awesome. Dragons, magic, epic battles: I love all of it and have done for as long as I can remember. Growing up, enjoying fantasy and sci-fi felt like I was part of a subculture and I was overjoyed when I found fellow fantasy fans geeking out over the books, films, or TV series I devoured. Trips to comic book shops, Warhammer shops, or conventions opened my eyes to the sheer amount of people who were passionate about fantasy and it was always fun to discuss ideas and theories of what might happen next in a book or who should play certain characters in the latest film adaptation. Some people would mock us but if anything, I felt that brought the community I was in together. There was a sense of belonging. A team spirit. Over the years, being a geek has become cooler and more mainstream. The growth of all things geeky and the changes in how we communicate have led to certain pockets of fans sprouting up full of negativity and the loud toxic nature of these vocal groups is off-putting to both newcomers and older fans, sometimes tainting experiences that would otherwise be enjoyable.

Now, I love discussions and debate. The world would be a boring place if we all liked the same things. A bit of variety is needed. But it is the way in which some fans (and I will stress that it is a small number) seem to get personal with their insults when they don’t like something that is worrying. It’s fine to not like something but surely there is a better use of time and energy than to sit on a computer and insult cast members, writers, directors and other fans when disagreeing with a decision that will have minimal impact on your life? The Rings of Power and House of the Dragon both had successful first seasons released this year. As a huge fan of The Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones, I was, like millions of others, very excited to step back into these amazing worlds. The negativity to The Rings of Power was loud. Complaints about the increase in diversity were similar to complaints Star Wars fans made around the same time they forced an actress to quit social media due to their harassment.

The arguments against people of colour and non-binary cast members were upsetting to read and I am well aware as a white male that if I was starting to feel sickened and upset by these horrible comments then other people would be feeling a lot worse. Fans of fantasy who may not have had many opportunities to see people like themselves in such shows would now be feeling hated and marginalized by these vocal ‘fans’ who for some reason felt it their right to argue about what people should look like in a made-up world filled with dragons, elves, and other such fantastical beings. I loved House of the Dragon and I found The Rings of Power enjoyable and comforting. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind but I will always have Lord of the Rings to fall back on. When posting mostly positive reviews, it was always interesting to see comments pop up about how much people hated the shows. I’m fine with people disagreeing with me about a series, not everyone is going to love the things I do but I was unnerved by how passionately people hated the show and how they felt the need to get across their hate as much as they could. Reviews should lead to a debate and I love to read about what people have liked and disliked but it confuses me to see so called fans spend their time and energy writing about how much they hate something and then getting personal with their insults. I’m not an Ed Sheeran fan but I’m not going to comment under posts of his fans saying how much I dislike his music. There are better things to do.

Fans are passionate. Channeling that passion in the right way is important. If you have read George RR Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire or Patrick Rothfuss’s The Kingkiller Chronicles then you are probably, like me, eagerly awaiting the next book in those series. We have waited many years for the next instalments and although I would love to have them in my hands right now, I know that it is something I am not in control of. The abuse some fans have levelled at both authors is, for want of a better word, disgusting. Death threats and foul language fill up any thread I see about The Winds of Winter and The Door of Stone and it pushes me away from communities that I would have once loved being a part of. The negativity can be all consuming. Both authors have commented on the abuse they receive and it is something that is just not necessary. The wait for both books may take many more years. In the meantime, there are thousands of amazing books that could be read and amazing, positive communities capable of signposting readers to comparable books. TBR piles grow and grow so the wait for one or two books shouldn’t become an obsession. Fan complaints have led to a much needed improvement in the design of Sonic and a director’s cut of the Justice League movie that for me was miles better than the disappointing first attempt. Fans should speak about what they would like and discuss what can be improved but at the end of it all, people will like what they like and that’s that. It’s time to just let people enjoy things as they are instead of arguing and wasting time in a futile attempt to force them to feel the same way.

For me, grimdark is at its best when dealing with morally grey characters. I love it when a writer can show the shades of humanity and that everyone makes mistakes but it is how you learn from them that makes you who you are. I hope those fans of fantasy and sci-fi, who spend their time feeling so much hate, have a chance to reflect and think before they post. Our time on Earth is limited and if we don’t want to live in a grimdark world like the ones we read about, then surely we should spend that time promoting positivity.

The post The Toxic Side of Fandom appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

Review: The God of Endings by Jacqueline Holland

The God of Endings is the masterful debut novel by Jacqueline Holland, a literary dark fantasy that explores the purpose of life through the eyes of a reluctant immortal.

The novel opens in the 1830s with four-year-old Anna growing up in rural Stratton, New York. Her mother passed away during childbirth, leaving Anna behind with her father and newborn baby brother. Anna idolizes her artisan father, who carves tombstones for a living. Anna finds grim solace in the cemetery, despite rumors of the restless dead who may be brought back to life and bring affliction to the living. Anna is soon left alone after her father and brother succumb to illness. She experiences the same fate but then is unwillingly raised from the dead by her step- grandfather, endowed with the immortality of her newfound vampiric state.

The God of Endings jumps ahead to 1984, when Anna works as a teacher at an elite French-language preschool in upstate New York. Despite her reluctance to build any lasting connections, Anna gets involved with the family of one of her gifted but criminally neglected young pupils, whose parents are consumed by infidelity and addiction. Jacqueline Holland is a master at capturing the Northern Gothic aesthetic of rural upstate New York in both the 1830s and 1984 time periods.

The God of Endings skips across time and space, covering Anna’s early days as she crosses the Atlantic to build a new life in eastern Europe, where she learns the practical aspects of vampirism. The European scenes all have a fever dream-like quality to them, as if Anna is immersed in one of Grimms’ fairy tales. Indeed, Holland’s novel is steeped in Slavic folklore, especially the titular god of endings, Czernobog, who haunts Anna from the shadows. Czernobog casts a devil-like figure and also functions as the god of darkness, evil, chaos, death, and night.

As an adult during World War II, Anna becomes a teacher in a small French village and assumes an alternate persona known as the Nachte Bestie (night beast), an inhuman phantom who hunts Nazis under the shroud of night. While a passive character in much of The God of Endings, these scenes convey Anna at her most outwardly assertive, while she simultaneously wages an inner war to control her thirst for blood.

The basic premise of The God of Endings, i.e., following the lonesome life of a protagonist who defies human mortality, parallels the classic 1820 Gothic fantasy, Melmoth the Wanderer, by Irish novelist Charles Maturin. The idea was explored more recently by V.E. Schwab in her popular romantic fantasy, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue. Although their initial setups are similar, The God of Endings explores much darker territory than Addie LaRue. Jacqueline Holland wisely forgoes romance in The God of Endings, focusing on weightier themes such as the search for meaning and permanence in a life where everything is transient. Whereas Schwab skips over most of Addie’s life between childhood and the present-day, Holland thoroughly explores the possibilities of what her main character encounters across continents and centuries.

Holland’s writing is beautiful and accessible, with the caveat of having an appreciable amount of untranslated dialogue in French and German. The French and German usage is all very elementary, so I didn’t have a problem understanding these sections. But it could be an issue for readers with no prior exposure to either of these languages.

Although at times it felt like the story had too many disparate plot threads, Jacqueline Holland proves herself to be the god of endings as she ties everything together and delivers a multi- layered emotional punch at the end of the novel that both questions and affirms the nature of life and human existence.

Altogether, The God of Endings is a hauntingly beautiful dark fantasy that serves as a meditation on the arrogance and love associated with bringing new life into the world. Let’s hope that The God of Endings is just the beginning for Jacqueline Holland.

4.5/5

Read The God of Endings by Jacqueline Holland

The post Review: The God of Endings by Jacqueline Holland appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

REVIEW: The Sinking City

The Sinking City is a study in contradictions and one that I have many thoughts on both good and bad. The closest game I can think of to it is Silent Hill, which is to say it has achieved something truly magnificent in terms of its setting as well as storytelling but plays like ass. It’s a difficult statement because I want to like The Sinking City and it has many wonderful qualities but it also took me more than a few hours to figure out how its counterintuitive systems.

The game is an investigative action RPG in the Cthulhu Mythos. In the fictional city of Oakmont, Massachusetts, Charles Reed is a private investigator following up on a bunch of missing person’s cases as well as the strange visions he’s having of the town. Oakmont is apparently very isolated and was so even before it was hit by a devastating flood that leaves half of the city underwater.

The developers make an interesting stylistic choice in that Oakmont is mostly aware of the Cthulhu Mythos. The Innsmouthers, refugees from their destroyed hometown, are openly worshiping Dagon as well as looking every bit their fish-monster selves. There’s an ape-human hybrid in charge of one of the city’s oldest families. Also, there’s monsters wandering around the town that the citizens are trying to stay alive fighting. This takes some getting used to but actually adds to the weird and unsettling feeling of Oakmont.

There are some interesting contradictions in the storytelling that are worth mentioning as well. The developers are broadly sympathetic to issues like refugees and virulently anti-racism. However, that kind of makes it awkward that you can call out characters that are viciously racist against the Innsmouthers only to reveal the latter are engaged in plots to end the world with Cthulhu as well as murdering people left and right. Perhaps it’s simply a Discworld acknowledgement that true tolerance acknowledges that persecuted people can be evil bastards too.

Charles Reed is a character I wish we had either more control over his responses or less. He’s unnaturally subdued and I feel a more animated character would benefit the story. As a grizzled Mythos investigating private eye, he doesn’t have quite the same acting range as Edward Pierce from Call of Cthulhu (2018) or Jack Walters from Dark Corners of the Earth. Jack didn’t emote much either but I believed he was genuinely devastated when he failed to save one particular little girl.

The majority of the game consists of traveling around Oakmont solving mysteries. Reed is told to do something by someone, and they have to investigate locations, check archives, interview people, and put together the clues until they have answers. It takes a while to get the hang of this because the game doesn’t explain how the system works very well. I suspect fans of the publisher’s Sherlock Holmes mysteries will have an easier time of it. Also, Reed is apparently psychic and can see visions when he touches objects or a violent crime takes place somewhere.

The problem with the game is the fact that it’s consistently frustrating in its gameplay. It’s structured like a survival horror game so that even on the easiest difficulty with the Aim assist on high, you are better off running from the monsters than trying to kill them. I wish I’d figured this out sooner as some of the earliest sidequests were damn near impossible until I found the grenade. Even then, there’s a lot of quests where you can’t really investigate an area until you’ve cleared it out of bad guys.

The awkward combat is something I could forgive, though, if not for the objective and mapping systems. In simple terms, a large chunk of gameplay is about reading clues and then looking at the map to find out where places are instead of simply pointing out where the next location should be. I don’t know who thought this would be fun but unless you’re right next to your screen, this makes it much harder to reach destinations and artificially lengthens the game. You can add markers on the map yourself, but this just adds to the confusion.

The survival horror elements are also somewhat muted once you realize that crafting bullets, first aid kits, and other necessities aren’t a matter of resource management. All of the lockers and storage containers you encounter on your way through the game respawn their contents while the monsters do not. It was a good feature for dialing down my issues with the game’s difficulty but makes me wonder why bother with the crafting system at all versus leaving behind ammo or other objects like other games.

I give credit to the developers for creating a fantastic looking open world in Oakmont. The place is a post-apocalypse 1920s sort of Venice with rotting whale carcasses, overturned trolleys, and decaying coral-covered houses. There’s nothing in the way of collectibles but you’ll eventually explore everything if you play out all the side plots and main quest.

In conclusion, The Sinking City is a flawed but fun game. If you can get past the first few hours of not knowing what the hell you’re doing until you get some better weapons, then the game becomes much-much better. The story, the atmosphere, and the writing are extremely well done. It’s not traditional HP Lovecraft but there’s a few magical moments like the time you’re in a cave formation surrounded by seemingly normal rock, only to stand in just the right place with a camera as part of the mission quest: which shows you Cthulhu’s statue has been there the entire time.

The post REVIEW: The Sinking City appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

REVIEW: The Final Strife by Saara El-Arifi

The Final Strife by Saara El-Arifi is an incredible book that gripped me from the very start and didn’t let go…and it still hasn’t, days after I finished it.

It is an African and Arabic inspired fantasy and El-Arifi paints a vivid and rich world that feels different yet similar to other fantasy epics. In many ways, The Final Strife is a story we’ve heard before. The obscenely wealthy live in gilded palaces enjoying a soft and comfortable life, feasting on the labours of those demonised by society. Yet El-Arifi’s depiction of the casual brutality faced by those marginalised souls shocked me, no mean feat in a genre where it feels like every horrific crime that could be committed by a ruler already has.

Grimdark lovers will appreciate the casual brutality of the red-blooded Embers, who chop off the hands and tongues of the clear-blooded Ghostings a few days after they are born to keep them in line. The Dusters, blue-blooded, are one rung up from the Ghostings but still treated terribly by the Embers, who seem to execute whoever they want to on a whim, with some Dusters killed for writing. Oh and they do it in a very creative and bloody way through ‘Ripping’, which involves a rack and the offender’s limbs being stretched until death is a mercy. Yep.

By about page 50, El-Arifi had built the world in my mind and then we raced through events at a pace that felt quick but not overwhelmingly so. I loved her use of blood in The Final Strife and how it divides people into different social classes. It was a great commentary on society without being too overt – and later developments emphasised this connection even more.

We follow three women, all unique and interesting characters in their own right. In classic Grimdark style, they are flawed and imperfect. They have their own agendas and missions and are happy to leave others trailing in the wake of their destructive and ambitious paths. The other characters are even less likable and all seem to have their own agendas which the three main characters have to navigate.

Sylah is a failed revolutionary. An incredible fighter whose spirit was broken when her family were murdered before her. She was meant to be the chosen one but it didn’t happen and by the start of The Final Strife, she has descended into a drug addicted mess. I’m very pleased with how El-Arifi showed the consequences of Sylah’s addiction and didn’t conveniently write them away as the stakes rose. Your heart bleeds for Sylah and you want her to win – yet she makes constant poor decisions throughout and they are both realistic and heartbreaking. She is also more than happy to hurt those closest to her to get what she wants. She has no qualms stealing from the Dustings to feed her addiction and rarely seems to do anything for anyone else. Violence and brutality comes easy to Sylah – as does a giant ego. She makes money by stealing and starring in a fighting ring – despite her biggest secret being the colour of her blood. If she suffered an injury or a cut then her secret would be exposed and everybody in the entire district would attempt to kill her. She doesn’t care.

Hassa is a Ghosting, ignored and sidelined by the arrogant upper classes – something she uses to her advantage to further the cause of her horrifically oppressed people. We are only fed drips of Hassa throughout The Final Strife but it’s clear she’ll have a huge role to play in the series. I would have liked some more time with her throughout the book just to give us a bit more information about her personality and relationships with other characters but I understand why El-Arifi didn’t want to give the game away.

The Final Strife’s third major narrator is Anoor, a sheltered soul who is inquisitive and intelligent but reviled and treated terribly by her mother, one of the most powerful people in the empire. She grew up in wealth and is a member of the ruling class, yet the circumstances of her childhood are truly horrific and it’s amazing seeing her growth throughout The Final Strife from an inconsequential character to a potential reformer and revolutionary. I liked Anoor. She brought an earnestness and warmness that illuminated an otherwise bleak story. However, I found her journey to be a bit unrealistic and her arc and final position didn’t completely work with the character she was described as at the start. Also, she shares a single mind. That being said, the book leaves her in a very interesting place and I’m excited to see what she does next.

Overall, this was a fantastic debut with great world building and a fresh yet familiar approach to empire and discrimination. I loved seeing the Ghanaian mythologies used and El-Arifi did a fantastic job of blending them with classic tropes like fighting trials to create a true fantasy epic. The sequel has jumped to the top of the list of books I’m excited for in 2023, and she could be one of the next big things in fantasy!

FIVE STARS

Read The Final Strife by Saara El-Arifi

The post REVIEW: The Final Strife by Saara El-Arifi appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

REVIEW: Frolic on the Amaranthyn by Chase A. Folmar

After an act of brigandry goes awry, the seductive thief Emrasarie and the hulking swordsman Uralant the Untamable find themselves at the mercy of the masked sorcerer Zelaeus. Their lives at his disposal, he compels the pair to board Numynaris’s Ark in search of forbidden arcane secrets. An enigmatic relic left by an ancient and cruel race, the colossal vessel drifts along the mist-shrouded Amaranthyn river, playing host to a hallucinatory bacchanal: the titular Frolic on the Amaranthyn. Emrasarie and Uralant soon learn that the ethereal beauty of the Ark and its Frolic conceals a deeper rot.

A briskly-paced 101-page novella, Frolic on the Amaranthyn blends swashbuckling action with nightmarish horror elements in the tradition of Weird Tales magazine. While the ornate diction and cynical approach to sorcery and its practitioners immediately bring to mind Clark Ashton Smith and Jack Vance, the diametrically opposed protagonists and their heist mission recall Fritz Leiber’s Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. The lush, phantasmagorical prose reminds the reader of Tanith Lee, late queen of dark fantasy.

Chase A. Folmar takes a broad strokes approach to both characterization and world building. The reader is not told much about the heroes or the world in which they live, just enough to serve the requirements of the story. We learn that Emrasarie is an orphan with a history of exploitation at the hands of men. She has light fingers and has learned to use her striking beauty to her advantage. Her partner Uralant, on the other hand, has a hot temper and the brawn to back it up. The setting of Frolic on the Amaranthyn has a vaguely ancient Greek feel, reinforced by Folmar’s choice in diction: this is a world in which autochthons are beholden to eupatrids, rather than one where commoners are ruled by nobles.

While character backgrounds and setting details are kept brief, Folmar revels in describing the present scene. Like Smith and Vance, he spices the text with obscure and evocative terminology. Colubrine, autolatry, myriapod, incarnadine, erubescent, inuculent, rufescent, amaurotic, etc. Nearly every page of Frolic on the Amaranthyn includes a term that would be at home in a Word-a-Day calendar. This style of prose unashamedly places flavor above accessibility, but during my first read-through of the book I resisted the temptation to reach for the dictionary. As with Smith and Vance, I elected instead to just relax and let the rhythm and musicality of the unfamiliar words wash over me. Later reviewing the book with dictionary at hand provided some additional nuance and specificity, but this extra research was not in any way required to comprehend or enjoy the book.

A world of dark beauty is presented through the poetic prose and exposition. We are reminded repeatedly that, though surface elements may be beautiful—such as the architecture and luxurious finery on display—like Zelaeus’ exquisite mask it often serves to hide a deeper corruption. For all the superficial aesthetic beauty, brutality is never far away. The upper classes subsist heavily on their inferiors, and are willing to use violence to maintain this status quo. Over the course of Frolic on the Amaranthyn, Emrasarie and Uralant learn that humanity is threatened by an even more malicious and insidious parasite.

Numerous dark fantasy and classic Sword & Sorcery elements are present in Frolic on the Amaranthyn, but the choice to have the protagonists be a romantic couple is an uncommon choice for the genre. They don’t fall in love over the course of the adventure, they’re not friends (with or without benefits), they are already dedicated to each other. This intense commitment comes into play during the course of the story, with both of them drawing strength from their bond and using it to overcome both physical trauma and mind-affecting enchantments. This aspect of the characters felt fresh and ripe for further exploration.

A world of dark beauty is presented through the poetic prose and exposition. We are reminded repeatedly that, though surface elements may be beautiful—such as the architecture and luxurious finery on display—like Zelaeus’ exquisite mask it often serves to hide a deeper corruption. For all the superficial aesthetic beauty, brutality is never far away. The upper classes subsist heavily on their inferiors, and are willing to use violence to maintain this status quo. Over the course of Frolic on the Amaranthyn, Emrasarie and Uralant learn that humanity is threatened by an even more malicious and insidious parasite.

Frolic on the Amaranthyn delivers an exciting and fast-paced dark fantasy adventure with appealing protagonists in a distinctive setting. This reader was left hoping that Folmar will return to the duo and their intriguing world in the future.

Read Frolic on the Amaranthyn by Chase A. Folmar

The post REVIEW: Frolic on the Amaranthyn by Chase A. Folmar appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

REVIEW: Curse of the Fallen by H.C. Newell

H.C. Newell has put a grimdark twist on classic Tolkienesque fantasy with Curse of the Fallen, the first volume of her Fallen Light series.

The heroine of the story, Neer, is a young woman cursed with forbidden magical powers in the land of Laeroth. Neer’s magical abilities make her a target of the Order of Saro, a religious faction who rule the human-controlled territories and have outlawed magic. Neer will stop at nothing to break this curse and begin a new life free of fear.

Neer is an outstanding main character: strong, passionate, funny, and with relatable faults. Her friendship with the witty bard Loryk and the shapeshifting halfling Gil forms the heart of this story. Loryk is a particularly well realized character, so much more than the traditional fantasy cliché of a bard.

The magic system is another highlight of Curse of the Fallen, especially the use of limited teleportation. But the cost of magic is high, leading to profound exhaustion and making the magic user a target of the Order.

The worldbuilding in Curse of the Fallen features classic Tolkien elements, including elves, halflings, and various demonic beings, but in a grimdark world that doesn’t shy away from showing the brutality of violence and its aftermath.

H.C. Newell’s writing is the perfect match for her dark tale. Newell is a natural storyteller, and reading Curse of the Fallen feels like listening to a haunting story over a slowly dying bonfire, waiting for creatures to jump at you out of the darkness. Newell’s pacing is spot-on. She pulls the reader in from the first page and maintains a fast, evenly paced plot throughout the novel. The ending of Curse of the Fallen has a big emotional impact, bringing a satisfying conclusion to the novel while also setting up the series well for the next leg of the adventure.

From its complex heroine to its dark world evoking a Tolkienesque nightmare, Curse of the Fallen has much to offer grimdark fans. My only minor complaint is that some of the worldbuilding is relegated to footnotes, for which I have mixed feelings. I would have liked to
see a broader view of the world within the main text of the novel itself, but perhaps that will come with the subsequent volumes of the series.

With Curse of the Fallen, H.C. Newell has crafted a delightfully dark adventure and established herself as a rising star of grimdark fantasy. Curse of the Fallen is highly recommended for Tolkien fans who are drawn to the dark side.

4/5

Read Curse of the Fallen by H.C. Newell

The post REVIEW: Curse of the Fallen by H.C. Newell appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

REVIEW: World Running Down by Al Hess

World Running Down is the first traditionally published novel by Al Hess. I first read his self-published novel Mazarin Blues last year for the first Self-Published Science Fiction Competition, and loved it.

Valentine Weis and his partner Ace survive in the post-apocalyptic United States, driving an old ruined bus to various salvage jobs and bickering. They get offered a job that will give them visas, and therefore permission to live in Salt Lake City, Utah. Not only does this offer a drastic increase in security and living conditions, but Valentine, a trans man, will finally have the chance to get the surgery he needs.

Several androids belonging to a wealthy family vanished into the desert. Though artificial intelligence exists in the setting, it is not installed in androids, thus presuming that someone ran off with them. However, these androids are gaining some semblance of self-awareness and do not want to return. This forces Valentine and Ace to decide what they’re willing to do to get the visas to Salt Lake City.

Complicating the situation further is Osric, who is the other point of view character of the book. Osric is an artificial intelligence who had been exiled from the rest of the A.I. overseers who help manage Salt Lake City and input into an android’s body. Osric and Valentine soon start up a romance, which is the primary character arc of the book. It was a very adult relationship, not in the sense of explicitness (though there is one explicit scene) but in that when there were issues they just talked about them. There was no will-they-won’t-they, no artificial drama inserted. It was a very comfortable romance, with no doubt from the beginning that everything would end up all right.

World Running Down is an extremely mild post-apocalypse, far from the brutal, bleak common post- apocalypses. Even the title suggests it wasn’t one huge awful event but just a slow degradation. There are hints at the edges of the book about some of the strangeness seeping through the world that exist out in the desert, and the tensions of the city’s populace getting rid of their more problematic elements by sending them into the desert and forgetting about them.

That said by and large, even the other wasteland scavengers are just people trying to get by and keep their communities safe and intact. Community is a huge part of the book, and Valentine is explicit that he could stop salvaging and go to communities where he knows people and get by, but it would mean giving up on his surgery. Everyone has a place they belong, even in the post-apocalypse.

As a small, final note, the cover of World Running Down was done by Hess as well, as are the sketches of the two primary characters inside. I cannot think of another traditionally published book that had cover art by the author, but it’s great.

World Running Down avoids most of the more grimdark tropes of the post-apocalypse. Even the villains have no reason to believe the androids have gained self-awareness, as it is thus far in the setting unprecedented. But it makes a fine comfort read between darker books.

The plot of World Running Down is delivered like clockwork. It’s lean and fast and the character arcs tie in perfectly with the plot. Hess has a great grasp on character dynamics and building relatable relationships. World Running Down is out on Valentine’s Day 2023.

Read World Running Down by Al Hess

The post REVIEW: World Running Down by Al Hess appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

REVIEW: Blade Runner ‘Black Lotus’ #4 by Nancy Collins and Enid Balám

Blade Runner ‘Black Lotus’ #4 is the fourth and final installment of the mini-series that is a sequel to the successful Cartoon Network Blade Runner ‘Black Lotus’ anime. It is an intequal set between the two Blade Runner movies and about a young Replicant girl named Elle who narrowly survives a bunch of Replicant-hating bigots. Picking up immediately afterward, she finds herself wandering into a wasteland town built around fracking and the conflict emerging between the settlers with the owners of the fracking plant.

I wasn’t a huge fan of the first issue, offput by the lack of Joseph from the anime as well as the shift from cyberpunk Los Angeles to the more Mad Max-esque California desert. However, the next two issues were action packed and at least entertaining from beginning to end. They may not have been particularly deep stories but the art was kinetic and I enjoyed seeing Elle kick as much ass as she did in the anime.

The final issue of the series surprised me by returning to characterization as its primary motivation. There’s very little action as, instead, Elle meditates on the nature of sacrifice and how her friend Joseph got himself killed trying to redeem himself. Sadly, this confirms what the series was already hinting at when the anime left it open-ended over whether Joseph survived his attempted sacrifice or not.

Here, Elle successfully confronts the remaining fracking boss and forces a confession out of him that he attempted to kidnap a bunch of women from the settlers in order to force them into prostitution. Also, that he was the man responsible for torturing and mutilating all of the pleasure model Replicants that resulted in Niander Wallace cancelling his contract. It’s a cathartic moment and well done for showing a certain level of justice can exist in the Blade Runner world.

There’s also an interesting scene at the start of the comic where one of the settlers reveals he was in on the kidnapping plot in hopes of acquiring the village doctor for himself. If the comic had an additional two issues to pace itself (raising it to six), I suspect Nancy Collins would have had more room to get into reasons why we should care about these characters.

Overall, I enjoyed the Black Lotus mini-series even if I was disappointed in places like with the lack of Joseph and lack of character development. The Wild West/Mad Max-esque setting was something that took a little while to get used to but I ultimately think it was an okay shift from Los Angeles. There’s a lot to enjoy here but most of the book is action and feels more like an episode or two of the series rather an entire season.

Read Blade Runner ‘Black Lotus’ by Nancy Collins and Enid Balám

The post REVIEW: Blade Runner ‘Black Lotus’ #4 by Nancy Collins and Enid Balám appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

REVIEW: City of Last Chances by Adrian Tchaikovsky

The City of Last Chances is Ilmar and it’s currently under Palleseen occupation, which the majority of the city’s inhabitants are unimpressed with. To assist with keeping the city in order the Palleseen use many organisations such as The School of Correct Speech and The School of Correct Conduct. Individuals and groups that have opposing attitudes or who act in a manner that doesn’t align with the guidance presented by the occupiers are dealt with promptly. Equally unnerving is the Anchorwood on the city’s outskirts, which contains magics, indwellers, monstrous beings, and portals to distant places.

We witness happenings that relate to the criminal underworld, academia, workers and demons, refugees and outsiders, forgotten gods, and magical artefacts from a wide range of perspectives. Ilmar is the novel’s main character though, and this includes distinct and atmospheric areas such as The Reproach, The Hammer Districts, and The Anchorage. I found The Reproach to be a haunting and intensely interesting part of the city and I adored my time reading about that area and its inhabitants most of all.

Approximately every 8-10 chapters, there is a Mosaic chapter, which I would describe as a city-eyed view of happenings: summarising what is taking place throughout many areas of the city at the given time. As City of Last Chances progresses, we’re updated regarding the potential revolution that is stirring underneath the surface: who will light the fuse, will the Palleseen military be prepared, what will the consequences be and what part will the supernatural elements of the city play?

The characters presented, their dialogues, interactions, and motives are close to perfection for a grimdark audience. Personally, my favourite characters here were Blackmane, a pawnbroker who deals in magical items, Lemya, a wide-eyed student, Ruslav, a thug who becomes surprisingly infatuated with a painting, Ivarn Ostravar, a senior lecturer, and Yasnic, a priest and the only believer of an old god. Although the above stood out to me, many great moments belonged to other, fine creations. Tchaikovsky presents some fine and memorable set pieces that are peppered throughout the book. The finest involves a group hanging and when I witnessed it, my initial thoughts were “That that’s an excellent future Netflix cliffhanger right there!”

As alluded to above, I found City of Last Chances to be an ambitious epic fantasy read that contains many quality elements and memorable characters. Unfortunately, certain sections of the novel didn’t quite work for me and at times I had to force myself to plod through the 500 pages. Tchaikovsky’s presentation of the city throughout is admirable and detailed, yet after about the halfway point, even as events were heating up, I found that I didn’t care about certain chapters or characters at all. It’s possible that I was drifting away from certain events or members of the dramatis personae because the city itself was more important than them in the grand scheme of things. I purchased (and enjoyed) the audiobook during these harder chapters when I found myself disinterested, to help keep me focused and push forwards to the excellent scenes and exchanges that I knew would come. Having completed the novel, I’m content as the highs outweigh the lows, the ending is satisfying and this standalone epic fantasy all wraps up in a rewarding manner.

I’m rating City of Last Chances 6/10 as it features moments of Tchaikovsky‘s brilliance but was hard work in places too. That being said, it was a unique reading experience that I would recommend mostly because I’d be interested to see what other people think of this intriguing book. I’d especially recommend City of Last Chances to readers who enjoyed the sweeping scale, industry, revolution and political turmoil of Joe Abercrombie’s Age of Madness.

I received a review copy of City of Last Chances in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to Adrian Tchaikovsky and Head of Zeus.

Read City of Last Chances by Adrian Tchaikovsky

The post REVIEW: City of Last Chances by Adrian Tchaikovsky appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

REVIEW: The Last of Us Season 1

Based on one of the greatest games of all time, The Last of Us Season 1 is a faithful adaptation of the emotional masterpiece that will thrill fans of the game and newbies alike. If ever there was a curse around videogame adaptations, we can now lay that to rest. This is how to adapt a game, albeit a game that already had one of the strongest stories in any medium. Showrunners Neil Druckmann (the game’s creator) and Craig Mazin (Chernobyl) have set the template for how to stay true to elements that have worked before whilst being brave enough to make improvements to the source material.

The Last of Us Season 1 is dark. Anyone worrying about changes to lighten the tone for a general audience can cast those worries aside. The show, like the game, follows a disastrous pandemic that leaves many humans as Infected – zombie-like fungal creatures. The remaining humans band together in various factions, all traumatized by the global event (something the audience is now all too familiar with as the series lands, unlike when the game first dropped in 2013). As in any great survival series, it is the human element that truly brings horror. A grumpy, battered, and weary Joe – played by the always amazing Pedro Pascal (Game of Thrones, The Mandalorian) is tasked with getting foul-mouthed and witty Ellie (Game of Thrones incredible Bella Ramsay) across this dystopian United States in the hope of a cure for humanity. Infected, soldiers, and worse are standing in their way as the pair grow closer through the horrors that they face and memories of the past that linger for which there is no cure. It is their relationship that drives the 9-episode series forward and the two actors are on top of their game. We are given windows into the lives of other survivors, some whom were only briefly mentioned in the game, and this allows the audience to see glimpses of the world around Joel and Ellie and give more context to the brutal journey they embark on.

Gamers already know that The Last of Us Season 1 had a great chance to produce something close to perfection. The game is as cinematic as they come and it is amazing to see certain moments and events rendered almost shot-for-shot on the screen. There were times when I played the game when I would sit back and marvel at the beauty and emotion before me and The Last of Us Season 1 has somehow captured those moments and provided that emotion which will live long in the audience’s minds. The show also adds to the game in meaningful ways. A whole episode is dedicated to a minor character from the game, Bill (Nick Offerman at his brilliant best). There are real world flavours added to the character, all which make complete sense and the episode shows the potential for more opportunities in such a detailed and lived-in world. Some may feel the episode deviates too far from what the journey of Joel and Ellie but for me, it felt earnt whilst also offering small pieces of information regarding Joel’s life between the outbreak and current day.

The Last of Us Season 1 does what the slow burn westerns of old did so well – they use the moments of quiet. There is no wasted motion in the whole series – everything has meaning. Pedro Pascal has learnt the art of getting across so much information about a character in small movements and less dialogue (just watch The Mandalorian where he is masked up for most of the show!) and Bella Ramsay matches his masterful performance with one of her own. Joel and Ellie are the heart of the series and whilst there are big action sequences and lots of shooting and things blowing up – it is the quiet moments between human characters dealing with grief and trauma that pull on the heartstrings. The showrunners refrain from hitting their audience over the head with too much exposition. Instead, important information about the characters’ past is drip fed throughout the series, building up to what is one of the most emotional scenes put to a screen. The writers treat the audience as intelligent watchers and it makes The Last of Us Season 1 all the better for it.

The Last of Us Season 1 is the best adaptation of a video-game ever put to screen. It stays faithful to a game that can be argued as the greatest of all-time and once people have seen this series (and listened to its beautiful score created by the game’s Gustavo Santaolalla), they may be saying the same about the tv series. It is heartbreaking, emotional, raw, and terrifying but still manages to focus on hope – the light within the darkness. This is grimdark at its very best and for gamers and non-gamers, this story must be seen. The Last of Us Season 1 is a masterpiece. This story will stay with you long after the final credits roll… but a word of warning – if you think this was emotional and heartbreaking, just wait for The Last of Us Season 2…

Watch The Last of Us Season 1

A massive thank you from the Grimdark Magazine team to Sky in the UK for providing early season access. You can access the first two episodes (with one releasing tonight!) through a subscription, here.

The post REVIEW: The Last of Us Season 1 appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.