Tag: Fantasy

  • Why Fantasy, Why Now

    Why Fantasy, Why Now

    The world is a little bit on fire right now. Climate change is getting worse. Politics have taken a shift to the right, threatening the rights of historically marginalised peoples. Technology is developing at a rapid pace—creatives are being displaced, jobs are under threat.

    In this world, Fantasy occupies a special place. It offers an escape, yes, but not just escapism—it’s a lens through which we can view and process our reality.

    Firstly, Fantasy gives us the freedom to isolate a problem and task a character with finding a solution. The problem can reflect something we face in our real world. In doing so, the reader is given the opportunity to consider the solution space. With our protagonists, we explore what the various options are.

    From Frodo in The Lord of the Rings to Vin in Mistborn, our heroes are challenged to take on evil and oppression. They try different ways to solve their problem. They fail, and get back up—this is what keeps them relatable, and the reader cheering them on—until they find something that works. 

    And it isn’t just about finding strength and power: Kvothe in The Name of the Wind shows us how intelligence and wit can be used to fight a struggle against poverty. We seem him struggle at numerous times, and we’re with him as he explores ways to attend the University, despite his background.

    In most stories, in the struggle between good and evil, good (usually) ends up on top. (Not always, but usually!) This gives us hope that the struggles we face will one day be resolved. We also learn the costs associated with different actions, the drawbacks, the mistakes—the things we may want to avoid rather than repeat. Through such works, we learn not just what to do, but what to avoid, and how to think critically about our own world’s challenges.

    Mistborn begins in a world where evil has already won, yet our heroes still find a path toward hope and redemption. Hope emerges here from a seemingly hopeless world. In contrast, Legends & Lattes reveals to us smaller victories, more personal, where an orc warrior who has tired of adventure can find fulfilment in opening a coffee shop (and in the relationships she forges along the way).

    A core aspect of Modern Fantasy is the exploration of oppression and difference, race and culture, sexuality and gender identity. Through Fantasy, people who may not have a voice in our world are given time to speak, to explore their concerns, to be heroes and represent the power to change. Above all, even though many of the creatures and peoples we encounter are not human, Fantasy helps us explore and understand our common humanity, our shared personhood and experience.

    Terry Pratchett’s Guards, Guards! and Men at Arms (and numerous other works, honestly, but I pick these as they’re fresh in my mind!) explores class discrimination and systematic inequality through the members of the City Watch. Here, peoples of different races and backgrounds and genders explore and overcome their differences in ways that are humorous, touching, and sincere. Similarly, the Edge Chronicles presents a world where many creatures (from Banderbears to Sky Pirates) must learn to coexist despite their differences.

    When the world around us gets too much, Fantasy allows us to disappear into a world unlike our own, full of mystery and adventure. But that does not mean we are running away. Like the heroes in our stories, we enter these worlds not to abandon reality, but to return changed and better equipped to face it. The best stories don’t just transport us: they transform us.

    Much of this is, of course, true of Science Fiction as well. Where Fantasy uses far off worlds and systems of magic to explore these issues, Sci-Fi uses far off futures and technological changes. Asimov’s Foundation series explores how civilisations can deal with large-scale crises; through Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? we question our humanity in a world of advancing technology; similar questions are raised in Asimov’s Baley—Olivaw series (my favourite being The Naked Sun) where the closing gap between robot and human, and the restructuring of human society around that, is explored.

    From finding solutions to considering mistakes, from giving marginalised peoples a voice to giving us the strength to face our world, literature is powerful. And it’s needed now, more than ever. So tell me, what about you? How have the stories you love changed you or given you strength?

  • Book Review: Legends & Lattes

    Book Review: Legends & Lattes

    High fantasy, low stakes – with a double-shot of coffee.

    After decades of adventuring, Viv the orc barbarian is finally hanging up her sword for good. Now she sets her sights on a new dream – for she plans to open the first coffee shop in the city of Thune. Even though no one there knows what coffee actually is.

    If Viv wants to put the past behind her, she can’t go it alone. And help might arrive from unexpected quarters. Yet old rivals and new stand in the way of success. And Thune’s shady underbelly could make it all too easy for Viv to take up the blade once more.

    But the true reward of the uncharted path is the travellers you meet along the way. Whether bound by ancient magic, delicious pastries or a freshly brewed cup, they may become something deeper than Viv ever could have imagined . . .

    Travis Baldree’s Legends & Lattes is a hit for a reason. Influenced by earlier books that brought elements of daily life into fantasy, notably Terry Pratchett’s works, Baldree revised the genre for the Covid era. At a time where people were kept away from their friends and family, when local meeting places were shut, the idea of a cosy story centred around a coffee shop was the height of escapism.

    The narrative focuses on retiring adventurer Viv, who wants to trade in her sword for a quieter life. She builds her hopes around the Scalvert’s Stone, a magical item that promises to bring a ‘ring of fortune’ around its bearer. But this only draws more trouble…

    The heart of the story is its characters. Viv’s journey is anchored to her relationships, in particular with Tandri. Both are loveable and compelling, and the way they find companionship is nuanced and authentic. Supporting characters Cal, Pendry and Thimble further enrich this, with their distinctive personalities each adding warmth and subtly. (Cal was a particular favourite of mine.)

    Though the book promises ‘high fantasy, low stakes’, there is still much tension in a steadily evolving narrative. The cosy atmosphere is balanced against moments of conflict—with the cosy feeling enhanced in moments of resolution. This is driven mostly by the Scalvert’s Stone, which is surrounded by an air of intrigue and mystery—and riddles that characters struggle to fully make sense of. Quite what its presence means for the shop, and for Viv, and what it means should it disappear, is part of what drives the story forward.

    The most compelling aspect of the novel is its immersive atmosphere. Reading it, you almost feel as if you are there, smelling the coffee, tasting Thimble’s cooking, hearing Pendry’s music. It made me really want to just sit down with a coffee and pastry, with a bit of a frost and a chill outside and a nice warming mug of something hot.

    And, at the end of the day, that’s just what reading this book feels like. A nice, warming mug of something hot!

  • Book Review: Thornhedge

    Book Review: Thornhedge

    There’s a princess trapped in a tower. This isn’t her story.

    Meet Toadling. On the day of her birth, she was stolen from her family by the fairies, but she grew up safe and loved in the warm waters of faerieland. Once an adult though, the fae ask a favor of Toadling: return to the human world and offer a blessing of protection to a newborn child. Simple, right?

    If only.

    Centuries later, a knight approaches a towering wall of brambles, where the thorns are as thick as your arm and as sharp as swords. He’s heard there’s a curse here that needs breaking, but it’s a curse Toadling will do anything to uphold…

    Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher is a beautiful novella that both honours and subverts traditional fairy tales: This is, after all, not a story about the princess in the tower!

    One of the most striking aspects of the novella for me was the writing style. Kingfisher has a way of writing where the words seem strange and unusual together, but they’re formed in such a way that help you understand what the characters are feeling. Even something like this:

    She would never be able to describe the ride. No one ever asked her, but she would have liked to have the words to fit around it, if only for herself. It was like a dream that went on for many hours, and in the morning the fragments still lay dusted across her shoulders.

    It just reminds me why I love reading. When done well, writing is such a beautiful art form.

    The magic system is well crafted—simple, but effective, and aesthetically very pleasing. Toadling, the main character, is able to draw on the water around her, and that gives the magic a ‘wetness’, which lends itself well to analogies:

    The drops became a stream, became a torrent, and then Toadling was swimming in the magic, surrounded by it.

    The novel’s structure is equally sophisticated. We move between past and present with a growing urgency. As the narrative progresses, these switches happen more quickly as the book goes on, with the backstory and current events drawing closer together until they finally meet.

    And, of course, at the heart of the story are its characters, Toadling and Halim. Toadling in particular is irresistible. Her quirks and imperfections only make her more endearing. She forms a relationship with the self-deprecating and overly apologetic Halim in a way that feels natural and authentic.

    Together these elements combine in a way that feels fresh in a space so heavily saturated—fairy tales and fae are, of course, long-written and well-read genres. But I think even seasoned readers will find something new in this novella. It is a short read that will stay with you for long after you finish.

  • Book Review: Caraway of the Sea

    Book Review: Caraway of the Sea

    Caraway Auclair has devoted herself to protecting her brother, serving as the ship’s first mate and enforcer. Sacrificing nearly all she is to ensure that he becomes the most fearsome pirate Captain to ever sail the Carnelian Sea. She realizes too late, that the seas have only grown darker, and the waves more fearsome, they threaten to pull her under completely and mold her into something akin to a nightmare.

    Caraway of the Sea, a new novel by Madeline Burget, is a welcome entry to the pirate fantasy/romance space. Billed as a ‘grim cozy pirate tale’, it promises slow-burn romance and lots of paranoia.

    And boy does it deliver.

    Caraway, our titular main character, is a young woman in a man’s world. Here, though she did hide herself as a man in events prior to the story, hiding as a man isn’t the main focus. People accept that she is a woman. But, that does not mean she is free from danger—far from it. Indeed, she is still the subject of violence, and in particular sexual violence. This is explored in some depth.

    But Caraway is herself violent, and we get the sense that this is in some part because she is a woman. To keep herself safe, she has to present herself as someone not to be messed with. And this leads to many a brutal encounter. The action sequences are, indeed, brutal, and bloodthirsty readers will find enough swordplay and gore to satisfy. 

    The main focus is on Caraway’s fracturing relationship with her brother. He, as captain of their crew, is becoming increasingly paranoid and insecure, and she, as his protector, tries to prevent him from following a deadly and ruinous path. But events soon turn for the worse as she becomes the latest subject of his dark suspicions. 

    The story is interspersed with flashbacks, and this mostly works well, though there is one jarring revelation (which I won’t spoil) that made me question how it could take so long for Caraway to come to her eventual realisation. On reflection, it does speak to the nature of gaslighting and abuse in a fundamental way, and made me reevaluate Caraway as something of an unreliable narrator—she is slow to understand what becomes plain to the reader, and we watch her come around.

    My one gripe is the overuse of Caraway recalling memories of things recently passed that the reader was not privy to. The emotional weight of such moments is underwhelming if we weren’t witness to the initial occurrence. This happens more at the start, and is in no way disruptive, but it is just one of those things that didn’t work for me. Perhaps things could have been sequenced differently, or some scenes added in place of others, that would have provided more coherence here.

    Above all, the slow burn romance is done well. Enzo, the strong and handsome love interest, is a compelling counterpoint to Caraway, and his affection for her grows even as she is slow to understand her feelings towards him. We can empathise with her reluctance while still rooting for them—even if Enzo isn’t always trustworthy.

    In all, this book is definitely a worthy contribution to the genre. And, it is the first in a series—I will be interested to see where Caraway adventures next…

  • Book Review: Impossible Creatures

    Book Review: Impossible Creatures

    Impossible Creatures is the latest fantasy novel by Katherine Rundell. It follows Christopher, a boy with a special connection to animals, and Mal, a girl with the unusual ability to fly using a special coat, as they try to stop the glimourie (magic) fading from the Archipelago. The Archipelago is, simply, a collection of islands hidden by magic in the Atlantic Ocean that is home to all sorts of mystical and magical creatures—creatures who had been saved there to prevent their extinction.

    But the islands are under threat, and the magic is fading, and so Christopher and Mal set off on a journey to save all the creatures who rely on this magic. They are joined by Nighthand, an alcoholic who was formerly a bodyguard to the Immortal, the protector of magic since lost for a hundred years, and Irian, a scientist who is similarly investigating the afflictions affecting the creatures.

    It is a wild seafaring adventure that takes the reader to far off places, and we meet, as the title promises, a whole host of mythical beasts. Each has their own personality, their own tendencies, and they are a real joy to behold. I love the creatures—they are the heart and soul of this book. They are present on the island because they were, at some point in history, saved from extinction at human hands. It is curious that other (non-mythical) creatures who became extinct in the years since did not make it on. It would have been nice to encounter a dodo or two. Oh well. Jacques the tiny dragon more than makes up for it.

    The story flows nicely, though there are a few convenient moments were information is handed to the characters just at the right time. We have, at one point, a wealthy women flying about the islands on a longma to places otherwise inaccessible to the protagonists and gathering information for them. At another point, a manticore begins, without being prompted, monologuing on a topic that the characters could conveniently do with some more information about. All this is to keep the story moving at a good, consistent pace, but it does pull the reader out a bit.

    But otherwise, it is a magical and enjoyable read. I liked the ending, which was heart-breaking and inspiring all at once. The antagonist, who we don’t meet until the end, is set well in the broader lore of the island, so it still feels like a good payoff when we meet. And, above all, the bond that forms between Christopher and Mal is a treasure.

  • 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: 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.