Tag: Comedy

  • Book Review: The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook

    Book Review: The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook

    Downward to floor four! We join Carl, Princess Donut, and Katia in the Iron Tangle, an impossible and complicated subway system with thousands of intersecting railway lines. It’s like someone based it on a bowl of spaghetti they dropped on the floor. The routes are a claustrophobic mess, and the trains are, of course, full of monsters.

    Each book in this series finds a new way to frame the dungeon, and the Iron Tangle is one of Dinniman’s more ambitious settings. It’s also not my favourite. There’s an inherent constraint to a train-based floor that the previous book’s more open, expansive world didn’t have. It doesn’t give the characters as much room to manoeuvre.

    That said, this is an enjoyable read. The plot unfolds at a steady pace, with exciting set pieces and a central mystery that gradually reveals itself. In particular, we have ominous revelations about the Krakaren that feel like pieces of something much larger clicking into place. Of all the monsters, the mantaurs are a highlight. They’re physically odd, but it’s their Viking-esque obsession with dying gloriously in battle that gives them a layer of dark humour that stuck out to me.

    The titular cookbook is a clever device. Past crawlers passing their hard-won wisdom to Carl adds depth and intrigue. The talk show epilogues continue to be one of the series’ most distinctive features. They offer a way of stepping back from the dungeon action to reflect on what’s happened and seed what’s coming. It may feel like a bit exposition heavy to some, but it works for me.

    The characters remain the central draw to this series. A highlight here is Katia. Her doppelganger ability to reshape her body leads to some memorably creative (and gory) problem solving. It’s her stint as a makeshift cowcatcher on the front of a train that stands out. It’s just the right blend of seriousness and absurdity. The only shame is that Mordecai disappears for most of the book!

    The previous book has been my favourite of the series so far, but The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook remains an entertaining instalment that keeps the larger story moving in an intriguing direction. Onwards to the next floor!

  • Book Review: Carl’s Doomsday Scenario

    Book Review: Carl’s Doomsday Scenario

    And down we go to floor three with Carl and Princess Donut! This is where things get real…

    This is a great follow-up to Dungeon Crawler Carl that picks up right where we left off from book one. Earth has collapsed into an intergalactic dungeon crawl set up by extraterrestrial companies as part of some universe-wide capitalist hellscape.

    Safe to say, things are more dangerous, and just a tad complicated.

    If the first book was about establishing a world and proving its concept, Carl’s Doomsday Scenario is about deepening it. Dinniman writes well and with confidence, with characters you can’t help but fall deeper in love with.

    The heart of this book is the quest system. On floor three, crawlers have the option to engage in quests, which serve a quirky soap opera style addition to the crawl. NPCs have scripted storylines that run parallel to the activities of crawlers. This adds a new dimension to the world.

    As a narrative device, quests become a vehicle for exploring Carl’s empathy and fundamental decency. We see that his instinct, even in a system designed to brutalise, is to help people. And it’s through these moments that we get a window into Carl’s character. We get glimpses into his background and upbringing, which hints at something being built here for later in the series.

    Mongo, the velociraptor introduced at the tail end of book one, gets significantly more page time here, and I’m down for every minute. The creature brings out a new side to Princess Donut, a kind of maternal streak that adds warmth and depth. Mordecai, too, continues to grow into one of the most enjoyable characters in the series, with his wise and world-weary demeanor.

    The action is more intense and considerably gorier than the first book. Think Fallout’s VATS system with the gore setting turned on. Safe to say, Dinniman doesn’t hold back! But it’s not just all guns blazing action; solutions to problems feel creative, and give the book the same air of freedom you get when playing dungeons and dragons, where solutions are logical but often unexpected.

    The wider universe continues to expand in interesting ways too. The politics beyond the dungeon get murkier and more compelling, and the sense that Carl and Donut are pieces in a much larger game is growing.

    Carl’s Doomsday Scenario is an excellent sequel. It gives you what you loved from book one while raising the stakes and bringing in new elements. All the while, it still feels like the best is yet to come!

  • Book Review: Dungeon Crawler Carl

    Book Review: Dungeon Crawler Carl

    Carl is a former member of the Coast Guard who, along with Princess Donut (his ex-girlfriend’s cat) survives the rather sudden transformation of Earth into an eighteen-level dungeon. And it turns out it’s not just a dungeon; it’s an intergalactic reality TV show!

    Let’s get something out of the way. Yes, this book is worth the hype. Yes, if you like sci fi and fantasy with heart and humour, you’ll probably like Dungeon Crawler Carl. The book is a heady blend of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, The Hunger Games, and Dungeons & Dragons. The humour is irreverent and at times absurd, but the story has heart and emotional weight.

    For a start, it’s well written. Dinniman does the basics well. Details introduced early in the story reappear later with satisfying pay off. The dungeon is well-designed, with cool mechanics and layout. And there’s a vast world outside the dungeon that’s strongly hinted at. It has depth in its politics, corporations, and inhabitants, all of which feel richly conceived. The use of TV talk shows as a device for revealing what’s happening beyond the dungeon walls works really well as a technique.

    The characters are brilliant. Carl and Princess Donut are both excellent. They’re funny and loveable, and their dynamic carries the book when the stakes are both low and high.

    And I don’t normally comment on the medium of my book consumption, but I feel a special mention is needed for the audiobook, which is very well produced. Jeff Hays’ narration adds texture and personality to the story, and in many ways elevates and adds to the experience.

    So, yes, I recommend this. At the time of writing this review, I’m already on book 3… which probably tells you all you need to know!

  • Flash Fiction: The Tomb and the Broom

    Flash Fiction: The Tomb and the Broom

    I entered the tomb.

    In the room of the tomb was a broom.

    The broom was sweeping the floor.

    The floor was poor.

    The flaw of the floor was its scores of doors.

    They were trap doors, of course.

    Not traps for rats or cats, but traps hidden under mats.

    I lifted a trap and found stairs.

    Stairs to where, I did not care.

    Descending the stairs, I entered a lair.

    I said a silent prayer.

    For in the lair was the mayor.

    The hair of the mayor was fair, his stare austere.

    What he said as he turned his head filled me with dread.

    He said, ‘Hi, I’m Fred. And I’m dead.’

    Dead Fred led me to a shed, that he said contained a bed.

    In the bed was Ted.

    So he said.

    But Ted had fled the bed and in his stead was Theodore.

    It was Theodore under the door in the floor, in Fred’s bed where Ted was led, in the lair of the mayor, oh so austere.

    It was not what I thought I would find.

    Not that I ought to mind.

    For I entered the tomb and looked through the gloom for a magical broom that could sweep a whole room.

  • Book Review: Starter Villain

    Book Review: Starter Villain

    Charlie Fitzer is a down-on-his-luck teacher with a mounting pile of problems when he unexpectedly inherits his estranged uncle’s business empire. The catch? His uncle was a supervillain. Suddenly thrust into a world of criminal syndicates and secret lairs, Charlie has to figure out not just how to survive, but whether he wants anything to do with this at all!

    Starter Villain is pacy and entertaining, and it sure packs a lot into its modest page count. For a reasonably short book there’s a lot in here. The mechanics of how villain enterprises actually function, the flow of money, the politics of organised crime, are all really well thought through. It makes it grounded, and dare I say plausible, even as it becomes more outlandish.

    And outlandish it certainly is! Negotiations with dolphin labour unions, confrontations with crime lords… a network of sentient cats operating as spies! This is excellent satire that’s well tied to real stakes. It works precisely because the world feels both ridiculous and believable at the same time.

    The characters are distinct and credible, and Charlie himself is an engaging protagonist. He’s ordinary enough to be relatable and resourceful enough to be worth following. And the plot has enough twists to keep you on your toes without ever feeling contrived.

    Part of what I loved about Starter Villain is that it’s a complete, standalone novel. There’s no loose threads or unresolved arcs. In this way, it’s very satisfying. Compelling plot and excellent satire, all packed into one easily digestible novel! What’s not to love?

  • Book Review: Spell or High Water

    Book Review: Spell or High Water

    In the follow-on to Off to Be the Wizard, we head with Martin and Philip to Atlantis, the island refuge where the women who find the magical computer file go. It is a flourishing paradise run by Brit the Elder, Brit the Younger (they’re the same person), and Ida. An attempt on Brit the Younger’s life (and thus, implicitly, Brit the Elder’s) puts Martin at the heart of a zany mystery.

    For me, I felt like Meyer is finding his footing more in this book. The humour is confident and consistent, capturing a silly tone with characters in absurd situations, balanced against genuine stakes with real consequences.

    The mystery at the heart of the story unfolds nicely, with enough surprises along the way. Meyer also takes a structural risk by switching perspectives, and it pays off. It opens up the world and gives the narrative more texture without losing momentum. In particular, Jimmy returns, along with the two hapless agents who (for better or worse) continue their ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine. Seeing their perspective adds to the broader intrigue and suspense.

    At the conceptual heart of the book is time travel. This was hand-waved away in the first book but gets more attention here. Competing interpretations of how time travel works are how stakes are raised in this murder mystery. The nature of time travel is explored in a way that serves the plot. (Because if Brit the Elder is here, that’s proof Brit the Younger can’t be killed… or is it??)

    Jimmy remains one of the more compelling characters in the series. He’s complex, unpredictable, and never quite what you expect. My one reservation is Martin and Gwen’s relationship, which feels a little forced. It’s not particularly clear why they’re into each other.

    This is a minor note in an otherwise enjoyable read, and it doesn’t significantly detract from a sequel that provides an entertaining extension of Meyer’s geek culture-inspired world.

  • Book Review: Off to Be the Wizard

    Book Review: Off to Be the Wizard

    Martin Banks is an unremarkable young man until he discovers something extraordinary: a file that appears to contain the source code of reality itself! Naturally, he does what you or I might do; he uses it to give himself more money. When this attracts the wrong kind of attention, he takes the next logical step and flees to medieval England to live as a wizard. Here he meets Philip and a host of other men from the future who all had a similar backstory.

    Off to Be the Wizard is a lot of fun. Meyer keeps the time travel logic deliberately light rather than getting bogged down too much in the mechanics. This is, at its heart, a comedy adventure, and Meyer, to the benefit of the story, keeps things moving.

    Scattered throughout are some lighthearted nods to nerd culture, with references that make sense for the characters and the book. It also handles its notably male-dominated world pretty well, wherein women who discover the file are redirected to Atlantis rather than staying in the ‘historical’ past. This is a neat solution that acknowledges the uncomfortable reality that women practising magic has rarely ended well across history.

    But what impressed me most is how Meyer smuggles in some genuinely weighty themes, such as free will versus determinism and nihilism, without ever losing the lighthearted energy that makes the book so enjoyable. The plot structure also makes this feel earned. The early sections focus on Martin finding his feet among the wizards, but there are hints placed carefully along the way that build toward something darker. By the time the real conflict emerges, Martin’s growth feels genuine and purposeful.

    The characters are brilliant, all memorable and (mostly) likeable, even comic book-style villain Jimmy, and the comedic moments land well. Off to Be the Wizard is a very enjoyable read and it gets a hearty recommend from me!

  • Book Review: The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

    Book Review: The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

    The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams is full of the same zany, unpredictable storytelling that made The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy such a hit. 

    What I love most about this book is how the book jumps from one impossible situation to another. I had no idea where the story was going to go, and neither did the characters. This is made possible by the technology within Adams’ universe, whether it be teleportation, time travel, or reality manipulation. I think the thing that makes it work as a narrative device is that the stupid, unpredictable situation the characters find themselves in always makes things harder, or worse; they might be rescued from one situation, but find themselves jumping out of the frying pan into the fire. This makes it really effective storytelling.

    I think the character work wasn’t as strong as the preceding novel. Marvin remains one of the best characters in modern literature, and I really enjoyed having large chunks of the story told from Zaphod’s perspective. His journey to meet the ruler of the universe revealed some great backstory. But Arthur, Ford, and Trillian’s storylines were undeveloped and not quite as interesting by comparison.

    The ending was a little flat for me, as well. Zaphod finally meets the ruler of the universe and, [SPOILERS], it turns out he doesn’t have any idea that he’s making decisions that impact the entire universe (a universe the ruler isn’t sure exists). I get the joke Adams is making, but the execution, especially how quickly Zarniworp becomes frustrated, didn’t hit for me. Similarly, Arthur and Ford wandering around prehistoric Earth was a bit of a drag. That said, the revelation of the Ultimate Question was exactly the kind of comic deflation that worked really well.

    I’ve been reading a lot of Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams recently. I’m still at the starting point of my journey through their respective universes, but I’m finding myself preferring Adams’ humour and writing style at the moment (though don’t get my wrong, both are fantastic). Where Pratchett sometimes breaks the fourth wall with references to our world, Adams creates alien societies that mirror our own absurdities without winking directly at the reader. This makes the satire feel more integrated and immersive.

    So, onwards I journey! Next stop: Life, the Universe and Everything.

  • Book Review: Mort

    Book Review: Mort

    I’m about five or six books into Discworld as a series now, and so I’ve seen Death appear as a minor character a few times. But I was very intrigued to read Mort, which sees the whole story revolve around Death and the titular character, his new apprentice.

    Death wants a holiday, wants to explore his other interests, find out what it means to be alive… and who better to take over his work than a gangly farm boy that no one else wanted as their apprentice?

    Death and Mort act as counterpoints to each other. In his time away from his ‘work’, Death struggles with humanity (trying to get drunk, not really getting why people fear him—except cats, that is). 

    Mort, on the other hand, grapples with the weight of having to sever peoples’ souls from their earthly bodies, and the apparent lack of justice when they die (because, in the end, people go where they believe they’re going to go). 

    They both go through steady arcs, with Death finding peace as a chef, and Mort becoming less bumbling and more able to take on the powers of the job, even as he questions his duty.

    One of the things I loved most was the conceptualisation of time. The instigating moment for the plot was Mort’s refusal to take Princess Keli’s soul, which created an inflection point in time. She should have died, and history carries on as if she did, and eventually it all tries to self-correct. It’s clever writing and creates a set-up where the reader isn’t sure how it’s going to be resolved.

    I found the supporting cast to be hit or miss, though. I liked Ysabel and her relationship with Mort, and how it goes from antagonistic to friendship over time. Albert is an excellent character, especially when his mysterious past is unveiled. But I wasn’t so sure about Cutwell—I’m not sure if he was supposed to be annoying and off-putting, but I wasn’t really keen on him!

    This is a really interesting and unusual fantasy book showing how Pratchett continued to have a unique take on the genre. Like I said, I’m five or six books in, and none of them have really felt the same.

  • Book Review: The Light Fantastic

    Book Review: The Light Fantastic

    The Light Fantastic is a strange, unpredictable book that is subject to its own whims and internal logic.

    So, essentially, exactly what you’d expect from a Terry Pratchett novel.

    It follows on from The Colour of Magic, though with more confidence in the narrative and voice. It overcomes some of the structural hiccups of the previous book, and its full of the beautiful, absurdist humour that we all love about Pratchett. We follow Rincewind and Twoflower as they continue their journey through Discworld on a mission to save it from certain doom.

    There are some really memorable scenes in this book. The computer created by the druids is wonderfully funny (and another great example of Pratchettian satire), as is Rincewind’s voyage into Death’s home to rescue the unperturbed Twoflower. The latter parts of the book, with mobs of increasingly erratic inhabitants of the soon-to-be-destroyed world, are both gripping and hilarious.

    The characters themselves are the heart of the novel. Rincewind and Twoflower are, of course, central, and their opposites-attract-style relationship is timeless. But others, notably Cohen the Barbarian, steal the show. Of Pratchett’s gentle parody at the expense of fantasy tropes, this is one of my favourites.

    At the same time, the plot builds in that uniquely Pratchett way, with a blend of absurdity and genuine stakes. And the ending is surprisingly touching and unexpected, and feels like a natural conclusion to this part of Rincewind’s adventure.

    If you’re looking for a natural entry point to Pratchett’s world, you could do worse than reading The Light Fantastic.