Dan
The third of Parker's Saevus Corax trilogy arrives hot on the heels of the previous two The mixture is much the same as before, cynical sardonic humour mixed with war viewed from the perspective of a historian or economist rather than heroic fantasy. It's a winning combination, and one I enjoyed. I just think l that it may have been a mistake to publish these books so close together as I ended up feeling a little burnt out on Saevus. Perhaps I would have enjoyed this volume more after a break, or even if they'd been published as a doorstop to read in one go.
Adrian Tchaikovsky's return to SF after the excellent Final Architecture series is a distinct change of scale. It's set entirely (well, 99.9%) on one planet instead of a vast cosmic canvas, but it also lacks that series' pace and discipline. The story meanders and is just a little bit too baggy - it feels like a novella that has burst its banks. On the plus side, the world feels convincingly alien, the xenobiology that is the main focus of the book is never less than interesting and the chief villain has some sides to his character that lift him out of stock baddy territory. It's a decent read on its own terms, but it's definitely mid-tier Tchaikovsky that doesn't reach the heights of Children Of Time or the Final Architecture.
The second in this series, and it's as much fun as the first. More gallows-black humour, more twisty and devious plotting (from the author and the title character) and some interesting backstory for Saevus. I also just twigged that Saevus Corax means “Fierce Raven”, which I guess reflects his behaviour around battlefields.
KJ Parker's stock in trade is a sardonic cynicism, allied with dark humour and an eye for the realities of a situation that epic fantasy often overlooks. So it's entirely logical that his latest is about someone making a living from battlefields in the aftermath of bloody conflicts. That's where it starts anyway - Saevus Corax goes on quite the journey through this book. And you'll enjoy going on it with him - it's a good fun read, as long as you are the sort of person who can find the fun in treachery, betrayal, and corpse disposal, of course....
To begin with, this is a bit ploddy. Isaka's voice is idiosyncratic enough that it isn't boring, but it didn't feel particularly fresh or exciting. And then, just past the halfway mark, the whole book gets upended, everything changes, and it becomes a propulsive race to the end. It's cleverly constructed and very readable. My only caveat is that the relationship between the main character and his wife feels like something out of a terrible 80s sitcom. It's not entirely surprising, as Japanese views of gender roles are a lot more conservative than they are in the modern West, but it did stand out to me. If you can put those qualms aside, you'll enjoy a zippy and arch crime thriller.
I think this may be it for me and the New Management. I didn't enjoy the previous book at all, and while this one starts much more promisingly with atmospheric scene setting and character introductions, once the plot kicks in it devolves into incoherent nonsense. Perhaps it's all a clever metatextual game, where Stross is showing us what it would be like to live under a sorcerous reign of terror run by beings far beyond our comprehension via a novel full of non sequiturs, important stuff that seems to happen between sentences, random poorly illustrated motivations and a great big whimper of a climax. Or maybe it's just not a very good book.
Jen Williams writes some of the best fantasy going at the moment, and a new series from her is something to be celebrated. This is up to her usual standards, with some intriguing world building, likeable characters, snappy dialogue and disparate plot strands that promise to weave together in interesting and unforeseen ways. I have one tiny complaint though. It's a bugbear of mine when authors fictionalise real places and only change the spelling very slightly, and this book is guilty of it - Kornwullis for Cornwall, Londus for London etc. I HATE IT. Just think of a new name! Nobody complains that Guy Gavriel Kay's books aren't set in Spane or Itallya! That misstep aside, this is a lot of fun, and I'll be looking out for the next one.
Be warned, this one is a slow burn. At 20% or so I was considering DNFing, but I perservered and I'm very glad I did so. It comes together and builds beautifully, and the last quarter or so is superb. Some wonderful lyrical nature writing, and boundless compassion and empathy for a wide range of lives.
The fourth Woodville book continues the story of young witch Faye Bright and her Kent village in World War II. This one has a slightly darker edge than the others, with a returning soldier's PTSD driving one of the main plotlines. In my last review of these I described them as Terry Pratchett writing a Dad's Army novelisation, which holds even truer here, as alongside the jokes, the author has tapped into the same vein of anger and empathy that made Pratchett great. There's also a strong streak of pagan folk horror in the book, which for me is great as I'm a sucker for anything with antlers walking upright through an ancient woodland. As before, this book isn't going to revolutionise your life, but it's going to make it better for a couple of hours.
This isn't funny like Paul Murrays's previous books, but it's not supposed to be, as far as I can tell anyway. It's a big state of the nation book, reflecting contemporary Ireland, city and small town, through the lens of one family. Murray has a fantastic knack of getting in people's heads, and the different narrative voices here are all superbly done. It's a terrific book, right up until the last page, where events have been building and coming together in an excellently orchestrated set piece...and then it just stops, literally seconds before a resolution. I can see that there's a literary point to be made by doing so, but from a storytelling perspective it is unbelievably annoying. If I'd been reading a physical copy it'd have been yeeted across the room.
Another entertaining historical / medical crime thriller from this duo. This one has a lot to do with stage magicians, which works as a nifty metaphor for crime fiction itself - yes, you can see one of the twists coming a mile off, but that's because the authors are making you look at this one thing in front of you while they're doing something else over there. A fun read.
Like all the best SF, this works as an interrogation of our present day circumstances. On one hand it's a Chandlerish tale full of menacing thugs with guns and the hero getting banged on the head and waking up somewhere else, on the other it's a commentary on the current sociopolitical state of the West, with the Titans standing in for the billionaires who run our world. It's also pithy on the ongoing consolidation of wealth away from the young towards the older generation:
“As if there can't be new things because the old ones aren't going away”
There's a fair bit to chew on in what's ostensibly a noir romp, but the joy is that it works on both levels, and you can read however much or little as you like into it and still have fun.
Tough one, this. As always with Cronin, it's very readable, with fleshed out characters and an intrigue pulls you through the pages as if they were nothing. But the whole thing hinges on a revelation about three quarters of the way through....and that twist just didn't work for me. It's technically clever, and it illuminates some of the choices made around writing style earlier in the book and answers the niggles I had in those scenes, but emotionally and intellectually it just made me shrug. It would be the most heinous act of spoilerdom to say any more of course, but I was deflated and reminded of other books with similar premises afterwards. If it clicks for you then great, you're going to love this one, but it feels like a missed opportunity to me. A 2.5 I think, rounded up to 3 for the good times.
There was a lot I liked in here, a central character who is engaging if not necessarily likeable, some vivd writing and worthwhile messages. But ultimately when a book is sold on having an amazing mystery and a great twist, then it had better deliver on those promises and this didn't for me. I'd love to have been blown away by the revelations, but it was more of a shrug. Enjoyable but inessential.
I loved the first book in this series, but this one didn't quite hit those heights for me. Let's look at the positives first. Dark Mill South is an excellent villain, right out of the classic Jason or Michael mould. There are some really inventive slayings and set pieces here as well, and Proofrock feels like a real place. But at the same time, it feels a little bloated. It's nearly 500 pages long, which is too much for the genre - a great slasher movie should be a tight 90 minutes in and out, not some latter day Scorsese three hour epic! One of the best things about the first book for me was the focus on Jade and her journey from troubled teen to some kind of understanding and (whisper it) redemption. This one doesn't have that same kind of emotional throughline, and it's poorer as a result. I'd guess these are just middle volume blues - let's hope there's a barnstorming conclusion to come to Jade and Letha's story!
I love wuxia movies, but it's a genre largely untapped in contemporary (Western) fantasy. If names like Tsui Hark, Yuen Woo-Ping or King Hu quicken your pulse a little, then be assured there are sequences in this book that will make your heart sing. The fight scenes are gloriously visualised, the characters (especially Taishi!) are memorable and believable, and the plot rattles along in splendid fashion. As ever with multi-part series, final judgement will have to wait until it's complete, but I am definitely along for the ride.
Descendant Machine happens in the same universe as the author's previous novel Stars And Bones, but is significantly more upbeat and optimistic than that book (even if it does concern an existential threat to the entire universe). There's also no need to worry abut continuity, as it's a standalone story. Over his most recent novels, Powell has carved out a distinct area to operate in, a kind of rip-roaring space opera that captures the sense of wonder feel of old school SF, but also maintains a modern sensibility that isn't afraid of a bit of political satire (the digs at nationalists and separatists here will resonate with anyone who has paid the tiniest bit of attention to recent British political history). Essentially it's an update on the classic 2000AD formula, which is high praise. This one centres on one of my favourite SF ideas, the Big Dumb Object (the name of which I'm pretty sure is an in-joke on the foreign title of one of his previous novels). There's intrigue, action, and cosmic awe aplenty, and it's a fast easy read that has enough propulsion to keep you turning the pages without stopping to think “hang on a minute, what about...”. I suspect Powell had a lot of fun writing it (apart from the horror story described in an afterword), and I certainly had a lot of fun reading it.
Part secret history urban fantasy, part near future SF, all written in wonderful prose, how this book starts is not where it ends. It's a picaresque novel of climate change, taking us from the South Pacific to Greenland, via a riot torn London and a sprawling Irish family estate that isn't always there. Deep and complex, but powered by likeable and well drawn characters, it's quite the journey, and one you will not regret taking. Has to be in the conversation when awards time comes round.