Tag: book-review

  • Book Review: The Plight of the Guardians

    Book Review: The Plight of the Guardians

    This book is the latest in Alonna William’s instalments of the Fables from Wyanidus Lystria series. It takes us on a journey of a changing of the guard, so to speak, of the Guardians, the powerful beings entrusted by the island to look after the weather, over the people, and generally maintain good order. Our heroes are Azari’ah and Ariad’na, who we follow as they turn from rivals into lovers, rise to become guardians, and help solve the island’s problems.

    The relationship between Azari’ah and Ariad’na is the beating heart of this book, and their relationship as it shifts and changes over time drives the plot forward. When they meet, Azari’ah, serious and studious, resents Ariad’na’s careful and playful attitude; Ariad’na, for her part finds Azari’ah’s joylessness off-putting. But when they are forced into proximity by the current guardians, who are training them up, they start to become close. Very close. This yields its own problems, as guardians are forbidden from forming attachments with specific people, lest it bias their judgement. The interplay between the two is great, and I love the dialogue and characterisation.

    In exploring its plot and relationships, the author delves into some hard-hitting themes. She explores issues of poverty and childhood trauma, and the impact this has on later relationships and values. She also digs into themes of toxic masculinity in a way that I think is really well done. Throughout the book, Azari’ah is told by his mentor to be strong and suppress his emotions, to let go of his attachments to people, to be ruled by strict logic. But we see the damage that this has on his psyche, and the struggles it pushes him through.

    The broader world is luscious and expansive. The author clearly has so much care for this land she has created, and that really shines through. All the different creatures, the magic of the island, the interplay of how they all connect—it’s enchanting! It’s a world where, after I put down the book, I can’t wait to get stuck back in.

  • Book Review: The Siren’s Call

    Book Review: The Siren’s Call

    Have you ever woken up one morning to find your hair has turned long and luscious, and your ears pointed? If so, you just might be a siren! This is the fate that befalls Trevor when he starts to go through the equivalent of siren puberty in The Siren’s Call, which leads him on a perilous journey of self discovery and adventure.

    There is much to love about this charming novel. It is rich in carefully crafted maritime mythology, drawing on a range of Atlantic and Mediterranean influences. The world the sirens and other mercreatures inhabit is beautiful and expansive, and we get the pleasure of exploring it more as the story unfolds. The pacing is pleasant, and there are some likeable and engaging characters—Nicholas in particular I found to be interesting. Bloo is another, who has a distinctive and charming pattern of speech.

    That said, the reader might be overwhelmed by just how many characters there are. There are a couple of large families, human and siren, plus a couple of friendship groups we meet along the way. The geography is also a little confusing at the start. The initial setting is late eighteenth century Manchester, UK, though there are frequent movements between the city and the sea.

    Nevertheless, this is a compelling and creative work full of mystery and excitement that it is easy to get drawn into. I love the world, and I am eager to explore the author’s other novels to find out more about it!

  • Book Review: Mad Kestrel

    Book Review: Mad Kestrel

    I am a real sucker for a pirate novel. Throw some magic in there, and you’ve got me. One of my favourite books of all time is On Stranger Tides; one of my favourite movies is Pirates of the Caribbean. I’m not sure if this means my bar is set very high (I’ve read a lot of books about pirates) or very low (I’ll enjoy almost any book that has pirates in).

    Mad Kestrel, by Misty Massey, I thought was a very enjoyable read. Again, I’m late to the party—the book was released in 2008. But I’ve only just found it in my local charity shop. Sue me. It’s a thrilling adventure with a compelling female lead. There are some wonderful action sequences and pulse-raising swordplay. And, of course, some sailing through rough waters (literally and figuratively), and intriguingly handsome—but also infuriatingly charming—men.

    We follow Kestrel, a quartermaster aboard the Wolfsbane, as she attempts to rescue her captured mentor, Artemus Binns. Along the way she meets Phillip McAvery, a smooth-talking rogue who we don’t know whether or not to trust, and we are accompanied by a loyal, hard-working crew… or are we? Throughout, we are trailed by bounty hunters and a mysterious magical order, whose ceaseless pursuit keeps Kestrel constantly on her toes.

    The magic system is probably the weakest part of the book. It’s used to drive the threat more than anything—the protagonist, a special kind of magic wielder, is afraid to use her magic lest she is found by magic hunters. So, we don’t really get to see how it works until the end. And, in the end, it seems almost anything is possible with magic. Because we haven’t really been exposed to it much throughout the book, it means the payoff isn’t all that great. Oh well: Less magic means more room for swords and swashbuckling! And the sword fights and action sequences are superb.

    One thing though: I was disappointed with the author’s choice for the ending…

    SPOILER ALERT!

    The protagonist, Kestrel, is presented with a choice to take her mentor’s place as privateer for the king, or to go about her merry way as a pirate. We’ve had a whole book building up this character as a strong, independent woman who is fighting to prove her place as a leader of men; but in the end, she chooses to be under the thumb of the king. We’re told she negotiated better terms, and women are now allowed to sail on ships in the kingdom (yay!), but it feels a little flat after all that’s happened. I’d have liked for her to stick it to her (male) mentor and the king, and go off pirating into the sunset. But I can understand why the author went the other way… it certainly feels neater, and ties everything up.

    Despite some flaws, this is an enjoyable read, with thrilling adventure and strong characters. I’ll add it to the list of books I’ll recommend to anyone who dares ask me pirate stories!

  • Book Review: The Name of the Wind

    Book Review: The Name of the Wind

    I’m a bit late to the party with this one, I know. The book had been sat on my shelf for two years before I read it. It has been published even longer. (I’ve had a lot on, okay… don’t judge me!) I have now read it, and I understand why it has become an instant classic of the genre. And yes, I can now join the legions of fans anxiously clamouring for the third instalment. Hopefully by the time I’m done reading the sequel…

    The Name of the Wind is an epic fantasy ambitious in scope. It truly lives up to the ‘epic’ part of the genre. Told in both third person (in the present) and first person (as the protagonist recounts his life story), it follows Kvothe as he grows up and attends university. It is a detailed, thorough, character-driven story that rarely relents in excitement. The character development is superb. I love a character with a background in the performing arts—it’s a great way of explaining their charisma, and giving them a way of plausibly talking their way out of trouble (or talking their way into trouble). It also makes them a little more dynamic than the warrior-hero archetype. Rothfuss strikes a great balance between the genius of Kvothe’s character (he learns fast, has great instincts for almost all his studies) and his flaws—he still has obstacles he finds difficult to overcome. He is intelligent, but occasionally foolish, and brash, sometimes over confident. He is limited by his background as part of a travelling troupe as much as he his aided by it.

    There is an overarching story that the book sets up but delves little into. Despite this, I didn’t feel in too much of a rush for that side of things to develop. The drama of Kvothe’s life as he moves from travelling performer to street urchin to university student keeps the reader hooked. There is also an expansive world with different magic systems, from runes and artificery to more abstract controlling-the-elements-by-speaking-their-names. The wider world is nicely constructed, with different peoples and customs that intersect at different places. It gives the setting depth, and let’s the reader know that there is more to explore.

    The story slows down a little towards the last third, around the time that Kvothe finds out that he’s a heterosexual male and that women exist. Periods of courtship and pining after an elusive and mysterious woman become a little drawn out at times, but I can see why they’re there, and it doesn’t stall things for too long. In the end, the relationship the protagonist has with his love interest does drive the story forward.

    So, safe to say, I am hooked! This is an epic story with excellent character development and an expansive world. I look forward to reading The Wise Man’s Fear

  • Book Review: James

    Book Review: James

    I first heard of Percival Everett when previews started coming out of American Fiction, the film based on Everett’s Erasure. About that time, I also started noticing adverts for James, his new reimagining of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from the perspective of Jim, the enslaved man with whom Finn runs away. Apparently Everett is America’s best kept secret, and his work is only just making its way across the pond. So what was I supposed to do? Not buy it?

    Full disclosure: I have never read Huckleberry Finn. This is probably a cultural thing; Mark Twain was never a part of the British education system, at least not when I was in school. We had endless supplies of Shakespeare, poetry anthologies, and the like, but, alas, no Twain. So much to say, I can’t comment much on the intersection between James and Huckleberry Finn.

    What I can say is that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this novel. ‘Enjoy’ feels like a strange word to use for a book that focuses on such a dark side of human history, but Everett is clearly a master of his art. The focus on the use of language is excellent. Everett positions well the dichotomy between how enslaved people spoke with each other and how they spoke with the white men and women who purported to own them. In speaking with white people, they protected themselves by attempting to appear as they were perceived—simple, lacking intelligence. But in private, they were truly themselves, discussing life, love, politics, philosophy, and everything in between.

    There are some excellent scenes, which have garnered much attention, where James meets with philosophers of old in his dreams. An avid reader, sneaking into his master’s library at night, in states of delirium he discusses the ethics of slavery with several of the European philosophers who had pontificated on the subject. There Everett explores the complexity of the arguments for and against slavery, showing how even those Europeans who were against slavery still had complex and often problematic views. This kind of sequence could have been gimmicky, but Everett pulls it off well. He never lingers too long, and doesn’t lean into it too hard, which is to the book’s benefit.

    Though, confessedly, I don’t know Huckleberry Finn well, where I understand James diverges from its source material is where I think it is at its strongest. There are times where Finn and James are separated, and this gives Everett the freedom to explore more deeply the themes of justice and the experience of enslavement.

    Overall, I rate this book very highly. It tackles a difficult topic in a novel and compelling way; and those who read Huckleberry Finn at school would do well to read this as a companion.

  • Book Review: The Call of the Sea

    Book Review: The Call of the Sea

    The Call of the Sea by Kate Schumacher is a maritime take on the Arthurian legends, told with an ensemble of characters and through multiple viewpoints. It is set in a land being changed—not for the better—by a monotheistic, orthodox religion (a thinly veiled critique of christianity) that seeks to keep women bound in their homes and sees homosexuality as sinful and shameful. It also seeks to rid the world of its old magic and those who can control it (hypocritically, of course, given that to detect magic one must possess magic). A series of events leads its three core characters—Jenyfer, Ordes and Arthur—on a mission to find themselves, find each other, and, yes, find the grail.

    The story is beautifully told, with vivid descriptions of the scenery and subtle world building. At the heart of the story are the relationships between the characters, romantic and otherwise, and they are deliciously lustful and thirsty for each other (be prepared for lots of burning flesh and clenching legs). The pacing is consistent and slow, with plenty of time for reflection and characterisation. This might put some people off, but it is deliberate, and it works, and people looking for a break from breakneck pace will find something to love here.

    Given its emphasis on the persecution of women and gay people, the author is not afraid to tackle difficult subjects. There are some graphic scenes, so just be warned going in.

    The first in a trilogy, this book does more to set up the characters and the problems affecting the world, so don’t expect much resolution as you get to the end. But, given the richness and depth of the world, I don’t doubt that after finishing this you will be hungry for the next instalment.

  • The Edge Chronicles

    The Edge Chronicles

    This series will forever be one of my favourites. It was my favourite as a boy and, rereading the books now, I’m still in love. And how could I not be? The world is expansive and diverse, the characters are relatable and compelling, and the illustrations are beautiful (especially in the print books—the ebook version, perhaps not so much… the limitations of technology! Though the maps and many illustrations are available from the official website).

    The series is set on The Edge, a jutting piece of rock that sits amidst a vast expanse—no one has travelled far enough over the edge (outward, upward, or downward) and returned. A river flows into nothingness. But on The Edge are lush and dangerous forests, barren wastelands, marshes and mires, towns and cities (including the floating city of Sanctaphrax). The world is populated by a wide variety of different creatures, some coexisting, some not, from humans to humanoid beings, spindly-legged spider-like creatures, flesh-eating trees, giant banderbears, and much more in between.

    The series follows The Edge at different stages, with storylines focusing on a core of interrelated characters, all descendants of the same family across different generations. The epochs are defined by the stages of flight they go through, from ships mounted with lighter-than-air stones (flight rocks) able to keep them afloat in the sky, to specially varnished buoyant woods, to more industrial sky ships powered by stormphrax. 

    Sky pirates feature heavily, especially in the first two trilogies centred on Twig and Quint (one of the key reasons, obviously, why I love it), and the stories are bound together by sweeping adventures. The reader is taken to the variety of places across The Edge, and they meet numerous different peoples and societies, all wonderfully imagined. Within this world, the stories are able to tackle different themes: race and difference, identity and belonging, nature and industry, slavery and freedom—alongside the more familiar themes of good and evil, right and wrong.

    The world created by Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell is captivating and formidable. Enter at your peril, and be prepared to be swept along in breathless adventures to the farthest reaches of the land—and beyond!

  • Starship Troopers and the Future of War

    Starship Troopers and the Future of War

    Starship Troopers is perhaps Robert Heinlein’s most widely known work. Set in a future 700 years from now, it details an interstellar war between the humans of earth and an alien species referred to as ‘bugs’. On one hand a coming of age novel, on the other, a exploration of political philosophy, it has garnered both praise and criticism. It follows Johnny Rico as he rises through the ranks in the Terran Federation’s army. In 1997, a film was made, which (supposedly) satirised the views espoused by the book.

    The book has been especially influential in its imagination of future war. This includes, in particular, the use of power armour, a type of mechanised exoskeleton, to enhance human combat abilities. Power armour has become a widespread feature of science fiction in books, films, and video games, notably inspiring figures like Iron Man, and many more besides. Heinlein goes into detail about how it is controlled, how communication lines are opened, and how the performance-enhancing capabilities of the suit are activated. It’s deeply riveting.

    How true to life has this vision been? While using machinery to enhance human capabilities in warfare has been experimented with, with the advent of remote control technology and robotics, not to mention artificial intelligence, it is drone warfare that has become the new staple of twenty-first century combat. It has replaced the need for human presence in several combat situations, in particular aviation. By reducing the need for ‘boots on the ground’, it has enabled politicians to maintain support at home for wars abroad by lowering the number of casualties on their side. Conversely, drone warfare has deep ethical considerations, in particular the scope for impersonal and indiscriminate killing. This is not the vision presented by Heinlein, who keeps human soldiers central to the technology. In the book, it seems, it is the bugs that are drones, with central ‘brains bugs’ that direct and control fearless warrior bugs—which, like drones, have a complete lack of self-preservation.

    Starship Troopers is complex in its politics. It presents a militarised view of the future, with citizenship earned through military service. This is justified and explored by Heinlein through the voice of Jean V. Dubois, Rico’s teacher of History and Moral Philosophy in school. Amidst this, it presents a vision of equality, where service, rather than economic status, race, or gender, is the pathway to citizenship. Despite this, gender lines are still drawn: the troopers are entirely men, pilots of the spaceships entirely women. The politics have become the most controversial aspects of the books; indeed, the film version of the book sought to parody what some interpret as fascist elements (though, in my opinion, it wasn’t particularly well done, and it didn’t help that the film views like a children’s movie that someone decided to imbue with an overabundance of gore). In particular, given its focus and support for militarism, combined with its critique of twentieth century society as morally corrupt (written, as it was, during a liberalising era and against the backdrop of the Cold War), some view it as a recruitment piece—propaganda to make military life seem exciting, honourable, and tantalising. In this it has its modern parallels, notably the Call of Duty franchise, which itself has been seen to glorify war.

    Heinlein’s space age novel therefore has much to offer and much to criticise. One of its key failings, at least on my reading, was its lack of exploration of military tactics against an unusual enemy. It withholds a captivating combat scene until the very end, and only then does it explore how a race dependent on technology could fight against a caste-like species that communicated via a hive mind. Despite this, and despite the various other criticisms levied against it, Starship Troopers is an interesting read with relevance to this day. It remains worthy of our attention and critical engagement.

  • Master & Commander (Aubrey-Maturin)

    Master & Commander (Aubrey-Maturin)

    One of my favourite sets of stories by far has to be Patrick O’Brian’s Master & Commander series. Set against the backdrop of the French Wars, these follow Captain Jack Aubrey and Doctor Stephen Maturin as they traverse the seas in pursuit of enemy vessels. Full of thrills and adventure, O’Brian takes us in the HMS Surprise across the world, from the Mediterranean to the Pacific. The action sequences are exquisite and rich with historical detail; life aboard the naval vessels is meticulously researched, even using terminology of the time. 

    At its heart, the series is about the relationship between Aubrey and Maturin. It explores their initial distaste for one another, and then follows as it transcends into a brotherly love. They are different, but their differences complement the other; one is physical, the other intellectual; one has grace at sea, the other deportment on land; one is traditional, the other experimental. Both are united by their loyalty to one another, their shared interests in music and wordplay, and their duty.

    Above all, the deep love O’Brian exhibits for the history is what makes the books so captivating. His attention to detail rivals any historian’s work, and this makes the stories rich and vivid. He is also not afraid of abandoning traditional story structures in favour of something that approaches the biographical. (This in comparison to the Sharpe series, which are more formulaic.) And the stories are so lovingly told, with such depth of setting and character, that you can’t help but be drawn in.

    The series has been criticised for its pacing and its correlation to historical timelines; the latter half of the books squeeze in many events over an impossibly short period. In this way the books were a victim of their own success, with O’Brian writing many more than originally conceived. But who can blame O’Brian for wanting to tell every possible story? I know I can’t.

  • Book Review: Vermilion Flames

    Book Review: Vermilion Flames

    Vermilion Flames is an exciting introduction to the Midnight Wars series by Adam Fernandez. It follows Kaya, the rebellious daughter of a Mercurian lord, and Silas, the earnest commander of a powerful fleet of spaceships. Their stories intertwine as Kaya becomes coopted into a rebellious force as Silas seeks to crush it. Set in a feudal future where aristocrats and theocrats vie for power across the solar system, much will be familiar to fans of science fiction, and there is much for them to enjoy.

    The story is set up nicely and unfolds at a good pace, with a series of twists and turns (that I won’t spoil). The strength of the book is in its characters and world building. The characters have range, and their personalities come through well, while the world is fleshed out and believable. A favourite character of mine is Marcus, Silas’ brother-in-law, who is snackish and snarky, but with a tender, emotional side that comes across as the story develops.

    The book is generally well-written. There are areas where word choice could be more diverse, and there is some overuse of pronouns in places that makes it unclear who is talking. But these are minor flaws in an otherwise well-told story. The action sequences are excellent, and the dialogue between the characters showcases their personalities and how they develop: Kaya as she grows up and channels her youthful rebelliousness into serious activism, and Silas as he is torn between faith and family.

    Overall, this is a strong debut offering from an independent author, in a series that has great potential. I can’t wait for more!