Dan
This is a follow up to The Peripheral, which is up there as one of Gibson's best books for me. I'm assuming he is working on his usual template of loosely connected trilogies and that there will be another to come in this world. Being a return visit, this doesn't have the same kind of impact or originality as The Peripheral did, but there is plenty here that fans will appreciate; his traditional sparse prose, meticulous examination of detail in fashion and tech, and big, big, ideas. The usual labyrinthine, noirish plot is present and correct as well - it took me until half way through the book before I felt I had a handle on what was going on. It feels like a much more optimistic book than its predecessor (as long as you don't look at some of the details too closely), and I am left looking forward to a putative third volume. Basically, Gibson is one of our finest writers, and any new book should be celebrated.
Jason Arnopp's follow up to The Last Days Of Jack Sparks is another social media infused horror novel, MR James with an iPhone. It's another fast paced and entertaining read, but your appreciation will depend a lot on how you view the decision the main character takes which kick starts the plot. I never quite bought it, which overshadowed the rest of the book for me. Still a fun diversion, with some solid character work, if not quite at the level of the previous book.
Mallory Towers for our late capitalist age. It's bleak, full of disconnection and isolation. Characters are distanced from their families, refuse to speak the same language as others, sneer at other social classes. Everyone in the book seems to have an emptiness at their core, a void that they try to fill with social media and consumerist aspiration, neither of which work. If Thomas' earlier work, like PopCo, was a sally against corporate rule of our lives and a hurrah for sticking it to the Man, this one seems to be an admission of defeat, a surrender of power and slipping down into helpless acquiescence. It's a depressing book but a strangely readable one (and as a parent of a twelve year old girl, it's frankly terrifying).
The Industrial Revolution is about to hit the world of the First Law, and this trilogy looks to be the story of how it all shakes out. This first book sets the scene, and introduces us to characters old and new. There's no denying Abercrombie can write. This is another page turner that keeps you reading into the night, with vivid and engaging characters and some excellently dramatic set pieces. There are a couple of drawbacks. There's no real plot, just a lot of positioning for the rest of the series, and I wouldn't mind if he never wrote another sex scene again. I will still be first in the queue for the next one though.
Mixed feelings on this one. On the plus side, it's energetic and easy to read, with some quality dialogue and fun characters. If you're looking for some new grimdark this will satisfy you. But it doesn't really do anything original, the world is generic and very lightly sketched in, and my god does the author need to learn the difference between “a cliffhanger ending” and “stopping the book two chapters early”.
I'd be a bit leery of the blurb and the way it emphasises humour. There are funny bits, mostly in the dialogue, but the story and plot are deadly serious. This isn't the kind of comic take on the genre I was expecting from the publisher's description. At the end of the day it's a solid fun read that will be nowhere near my top ten books of the year. I'll stick around for the next one though.
This isn't a book for those who love subtlety and delicate allusion. It's brash and lurid, but hey these are brash and lurid times, and it is a loud and necessary voice in today's climate. It's a passionate and angry novel, and if I'd read it when I was fifteen it would probably have changed my life.
There's an interesting and original set up for time travel, but I felt that some of the stuff about repercussions of changing history got a bit handwavey and had the sense the author was hurrying us past some of it in case we looked a bit too closely. The main thrust of the book isn't the science though, it's all about societal change and how that happens / can be made to happen. The punk rock revolution of riot grrrl rhymes nicely with the story of nineteenth century music hall upsetting social mores, and demonstrates how resistance is necessary through the ages.
The Traitor Baru Cormorant (published in the UK under the much less interesting title of The Traitor) is one of the best fantasy novels of recent years. Magnificently written, complex and involving, with an ending that was emotionally devastating.
This sequel (once again published as simply The Monster in the UK, which I can only assume is part of a cunning plan to make peoples' eyes slide over it on the bookstore shelves) opens up the world and admits other POVs that add to the dramatic tension, as we now know things that Baru doesn't. It offers new, rich and detailed societies, and covers lots of ground around gender, sexuality, colonialism, economics and philosophy. It's not your regular “farm boy finds out he's the heir to the lost kingdom” kind of fantasy book. If you want lost swords and dark lords, this one isn't for you. But if you want something to work at, something morally ambiguous where the heroes aren't necessarily the good guys, or indeed something where it's not even clear if there are good guys at all, something that will get your brain puzzling, this is very much for you.
On the downside, this is very much a middle volume book. It develops the story, but doesn't really resolve much, and Baru herself is left helpless and inactive for most of the book as she struggles to come to terms with the end of the first volume. It doesn't move very fast either, but takes its time getting pieces into place. Let's hope that Dickinson sticks the landing with the final part(s), because if he does he'll have produced one of the finest fantasy works of the past few decades.
Dave Hutchinson's Fractured Europe books are one of the highlights of SF in the last decade, and so I had high hopes for this. It's told with his usual sardonic wit, and easy to read, but never facile, prose. Line by line, and chapter by chapter it's a great read, but somehow I found it a little unsatisfying. There seems to be something fundamentally wrong with the structure - difficult to elucidate without spoilers, but we spend 75% of the book getting to a thing which it's clear is going to happen from very early on, and then the last section feels rushed, with no real resolution. It's quite possible this is the start of a series, in which case I'd be inclined a bit more generous to this issue, but even so, it's not a long book and a bit more fleshing out of the ending wouldn't have hurt. It's also possible, perhaps likely, that Hutchinson isn't interested in the mechanics of his plot so much as he is in examining what happens to a middle aged bloke who's stuck in a rut when he suddenly receives [SPOILER], and how that changes his life and relationship with humanity. That's fertile ground, but again there's not really time to get stuck into it.
All in all, a solid enjoyable read, but also a frustrating one.
This is a second trip into Victorian medical history from the husband and wife team of Chris Brookmyre and Marisa Haetzman. The duo cover lots of ground here, from surgical advancements in the nineteenth century, to the opportunities for women in that world, to the criminal underworld of Edinburgh, to a tragic romance, and an ever increasing death toll. They juggle all these balls well, with my interest kept throughout, and the various plotlines dovetailing neatly. The research is obviously thorough, but always worn lightly as the pages keep turning. It's a fast and gripping read, recommended for all fans of historical crime fiction.
This book works on a number of levels. A lot of other reviews pick up on the dystopian elements, and the authoritarianism of the Memory Police themselves, comparing the novel to Fahrenheit 451, 1984 or our own global lurch to the right, and that element is definitely there, but I found it resonated for me on a quieter, more personal level. Maybe due to circumstances in my own life, I couldn't escape the idea that the set up of the book is a metaphor for dementia, and the gradual erasure of self that brings about. It's full of lovely turns of phrase and poetic imagery (the rose petals in the river!), but it's an unsettling read, one that has lingered in my mind for several days after finishing.
Chris Brookmyre has been all over the place of late. He's written SF, historical murder mysteries and now this, a novel with at least one toe in actual events. It's basically a story about unpleasant people being unpleasant to one another, but Brookmyre is a good enough writer to keep you reading and turning the pages long after you should have switched the light out. He handles the multiple viewpoints and different time periods smartly, drip feeding enough information that none of the twists and turns feel unearned. It's clearly a book informed by the Madeleine McCann tragedy, which has inspired Brookmyre to launch a jeremiad against conspiracy theorists and truthers. Personally, while I'm all for that, I did think that this stance was slightly undermined by the revelations at the end, but your mileage might vary. Not quite top tier Chris Brookymre in the end, but still very very readable and enjoyable.
This was pretty much designed to hit all my buttons - a horror/SF mash up, with a giant mysterious and ancient alien artifact at its core? Oh yes please. It's not hard to extract strands of it's DNA - think Rendezvous With Rama, Cube, Diamond Dogs (Alastair Reynolds, not David Bowie), Alien, Rogue Moon - but then again, some of those works are my very favourites, and this can stand with them. Fats paced and just the right length, this is one to enjoy and then to savour on rereading.
This is the latest of Guy Gavriel Kay's historical fantasy novels set in his slightly alternative Europe. It shares the same not quite Venice and other Italian city states as his previous book, Children Of Earth And Sky, and actually slyly leads directly into that book if you're paying attention. You don't need to have read the others, but there'll be a few nice touches like this you'll miss out on if you haven't. There's no overarching plot as such, more a study of several characters as they orbit each other around a series of set pieces. One of his favourite motifs is the mosaic, and that's how this book works - something going on here, then something else over there, all combining to form one overall picture. It's exquisitely written, as you'd expect from Kay, and never less than completely believable or evocative, with some wonderful characterisation. I've long held that GGK is the best contemporary fantasy writer, and while this is perhaps not quite up there with The Lions of Al-Rassan or the Sarantium books, it's still head and shoulders above pretty much every other fantasy novel that'll be published this year.
Merged review:
This is the latest of Guy Gavriel Kay's historical fantasy novels set in his slightly alternative Europe. It shares the same not quite Venice and other Italian city states as his previous book, Children Of Earth And Sky, and actually slyly leads directly into that book if you're paying attention. You don't need to have read the others, but there'll be a few nice touches like this you'll miss out on if you haven't. There's no overarching plot as such, more a study of several characters as they orbit each other around a series of set pieces. One of his favourite motifs is the mosaic, and that's how this book works - something going on here, then something else over there, all combining to form one overall picture. It's exquisitely written, as you'd expect from Kay, and never less than completely believable or evocative, with some wonderful characterisation. I've long held that GGK is the best contemporary fantasy writer, and while this is perhaps not quite up there with The Lions of Al-Rassan or the Sarantium books, it's still head and shoulders above pretty much every other fantasy novel that'll be published this year.
You know those films where you're caught up in the action, and everything rushes by so fast that you are hanging on breathlessly and loving it, but about half an hour after leaving the cinema you suddenly stop and go “hang on, wait a minute...”? This book is like that. It's fun while you're reading it, and it makes perfect sense at the time, but take a couple of steps back and it all starts to look a bit rickety. It's a decent read, and it'll keep you engrossed for a couple of hours. If you don't expect any more than that you'll come away happy.
And so one of my favourite fantasy trilogies of recent years comes to an end. I will blow any suspense right at the opening of this review by saying that Williams knocks it out of the park here. This is the climax I was hoping for, one that builds on the previous two books and surpasses them. There are epic widescreen battles, expertly choreographed, and quieter moments where character comes to the fore. There is stomach churning body horror and there is grace and heroism. There's love, acceptance and tolerance, and there is brutal bloody combat that doesn't always end well for our cast. Most of all, there's an imagination and originality that lifts these books far above the ranks of grimdark cliche or identikit LOTR/D&D knockoffs. The cosmic horror of the Jure'lia is almost Lovecraftian in scope, while the camaraderie and banter of our heroes never falls into smug cosiness. Yes, there are some loose ends and dangling questions (what did happen to the Yuron-Kai party that Tyranny decked the leader of? Have I forgotten something from the end of The Bitter Twins?) but this is a triumphant conclusion, one that is so far from dropping the ball it's doing a load of keep ups around bemused defenders and then volleying into the net from the halfway line. Superb stuff.
The thing about this book is, this book gets dogs. I'm not sure I've ever read another story that captures the experience of living with one of those wonderful creatures so accurately. Most of my time reading it was spent with a small brown terrier curled up next to me, and her fearlessness, her loyalty and her love are all here in Jip.
It's a post apocalyptic story, and a pretty good one, with a different and more interesting take than the other legion of post apocalyptic stories I've read. There are secrets and twists and spoilers as well (and I'm not going to ruin them, so don't even ask - but if you pay close attention to what the story outright TELLS you it's doing, they might not be such a surprise in retrospect...). Some of it shades into YA territory, not least the central thrust of an adolescent boy leaving home and finding his own way in the world, but not strongly enough to put a grown man like me off reading it.
But yeah, it's all about the dogs. If you like dogs, this will resonate with you and you'll love it. If you don't, maybe you should read it and perhaps you will see the error of your ways.
This is not a fun or easy reading book. It kicks off with the aftermath of a particularly nasty murder and widens out to give us a picture of a brutal and uncaring society. The book revels in filth and degradation. It's an unflinching study in just how horrible people can be to each other, one that paints a picture of life as a feral bloody scramble for survival. There is perhaps one character who comes out with what you might call a happy ending (if you squint at it a bit), but, my god, it is hard won. Even the blossoming friendship between two lead characters is circumscribed by imminent death (not a spoiler, honest, it's made clear from the outset).
As I say, it's not a fun read by any means, but it is an addictive and engrossing one. The writing is very evocative of a time and place lost in confusion and moral decay, and the central story is strong enough to rank with the best of contemporary crime novels.
Revenger was one of my favourite Alastair Reynolds books, and I'm glad it is extending to a series. This follows very much in the same vein, although it does dial back a bit on the horror elements, and the POV character has switched to Adrana, the other Ness sister. What is still there is the sense of swashbuckling adventure in an old ancient galaxy, full of secrets and dangers. The universe building is great, and this could end up rivalling the Revelation Space series as my favourite of Reynolds' fictional worlds.
The book does suffer a bit from middle volume syndrome - the mystery of the quoins revealed at the end of the last book is slightly expanded on, but no more than that, and the most exciting thing in the final third of this one is the set up for where the next book is (I presume) going. But to be fair, it's an awesome idea that pushes all of my buttons. Roll on volume three, I want it NOW!
(and maybe while you're waiting you could ponder on exactly who the Shadow Captain is? I can think of at least three options....)
This tale of an Edwardian antiqiuarian falling foul of ancient malevolence cannot help but be reminiscent of of MR James, and for the most part it's worthy of a place in that lineage. But one of James' strengths was his economy and his ability to craft a spinetingler in just a few pages, something Paver herself has managed in her previous short ghost novels, but not here. It's just a little bit too long, and feels a tad flabby in parts.
On the plus side, Paver nails the sense of place, both the overgrown lushness of the fen, and the oppressive and claustrophobic family house. She's also very good on the everyday horror of simply being a woman in a repressive and patriarchal environment. There's an atmosphere of creeping unrest thoughout, and an interesting ambiguity - are we witnessing something supernatural, or merely a descent into fatal madness? All in all, not quite Paver at her best, but still a worthwhile read.
This one seems to be picking up some negative reviews from fans of Tana French's previous work. I haven't read any of that, but I did (mostly) enjoy this one. I had to stick with it, as I was initially put off by the slow pace, and the unlikeability of the main character, who is one of the braying overprivileged Ballsbridge wankers I tried my hardest to avoid when I was living in Dublin. Once you get past that though, it's a gripping read of a crime and its consequences echoing down the years, with the additional enjoyment of an unreliable narrator who knows he's unreliable. His descent from golden boy to...something else is the thematic heart of the book. It's well executed, if easier to admire than to like. Overall, I enjoyed this one. It put me very much in mind of Iain Banks' The Crow Road, a tale of a young man's life against a background of generational skullduggery and murder. I didn't like it as much as that book (but then again, the Crow Road is one of my very favourite novels), but it's still a good involving read.
As a tale of (largely) middle class people bought together after a catastrophe, it's hard not to liken this to a John Wyndham novel or, more contemporarily, Station Eleven. Which is handy, as those are two of my favourites. This has a little bit more grit than either of those comparisons, with more emphasis on the stress and psychological trauma of living in such uncertain times. It's claustrophobic as well, with almost all the action confined to one location, and a pervading fear of the outside.
I enjoyed this a lot. It's not perfect - the murder mystery element feels a bit perfunctory at times, and the ending comes up very quickly, after a plot development that could have seen another few hundred pages added to the story - but it's a good, fast, gripping read.
This is a violent hard boiled detective story, a Chandleresque noir, full of femme fatales, hidden agendas, and convenient bangs on the head when the plot needs a quick push along. The only difference is that here the detective is a genetically modified, borderline psychopath, warrior, and 1940s LA has been swapped out for a colonised Mars.
It's mostly exciting stuff, with some occasional drags, but in the end, it was all just a little bit too macho for me. Richard Morgan has never exactly been a shrinking violet, and I've enjoyed his previous work, but here the sex and violence are so overblown they teeter on the edge of ridiculousness, and unfortunately the whole thing ends up feeling like a suburban office worker's power fantasy. It's good at what it does, but what it does isn't for me this time round.