An enjoyable romp through the ancient Roman world as usual, though this time mostly on the very edges of it. Lindsey Davis continues her great immersion and realism for the time period and the relevant cultures, but the plot for this one was definitely weaker and sort of petered out without any really satisfying resolutions. Some of the minor characters also didn't really seem have much purpose, and were more there for flavour and humour than contributing much to the story. Nevertheless, a decently fun read.
Rhythm of War represents the first time in quite a while that I've read a book which is the latest in an actively ongoing series. So it was definitely a very engaging and interesting reading experience, both in knowing that this was the extent of the story for now, and in getting to see other people's ongoing reactions and predictions as I read.
The book itself, unsurprisingly, continues to live up to the epic scope, themes and proportions (both in terms of content as well as physical book size) of the rest of the Stormlight Archive. The overarching storyline of the conflict between humanity and Odium is significantly progressed and there are plenty of amazing moments both for the plot and for specific characters. The opening and closing parts were definitely the highlights of the book, and I enjoyed the spotlight given throughout to Navani and the Parshendi - particularly as the latter added many more layers of nuance to their culture, their society and their motivations. I also felt that the focus on mental conditions and their effect on individuals on a personal as well as a social level was treated in a realistic and meaningful way.
In addition to substantial worldbuilding for Roshar itself, Rhythm of Waralso brings in significant elements and connections to Sanderson's wider cosmere. While I certainly appreciate the depth and intricacy of his extended universe, I generally prefer my series to be largely self-contained in terms of lore, and without having read more of Sanderson's works, some of the references left me confused rather than engrossed. I also felt that the pacing and distribution of character perspectives was less balanced than in previous volumes. While it didn't really drag, it did mean that certain plot arcs got less attention and thus had a less impactful resolution than I was expecting.
While I therefore wouldn't deem this my favourite book of the Stormlight Archive, Rhythm of War is still an excellent read and (perhaps more importantly) perfectly sets up the next book to provide the big finale to this first arc of the series. So, as is undoubtedly fitting for this book - journey before destination.
Serpentine is a nice little bridge between the end of His Dark Materials and The Secret Commonwealth. Not being a frequent reader of short stories, it's a little hard for me to judge this one - as always, I enjoy any opportunity I get to be in Lyra's world, but this was almost so brief that I felt like I wasn't able to immerse myself properly. The colour that this book adds to Lyra and Pan's relationship is rewarding and meaningful especially for a dedicated fan, and it's also a testament to Pullman's engagement with this world that he has crafted that he could write this short story even before he had any plans to write The Book of Dust, yet have this fit so naturally between the series. Ultimately though, it scratched an itch for me but didn't blow me away.
Fast paced and action packed, the latest Jack West Jr instalment does not disappoint.
minor spoilers ahead
Once again, Matthew Reilly masterfully puts reimagines ancient myth, legend and history, and crafts it into an action thriller that barely gives you time to take a breath. There really are some incredible highs and lows, both literally and figuratively, and although there are a few reflective breaks in the middle, mostly in the form of flashbacks or catch-ups, the duration of the plot can be measured in hours, if not minutes. It's almost ironic that the one of the villains' masterful schemes involves putting entire cities to sleep, because it seems like Jack West and his team just never get, nor indeed need, any!
I think it became obvious to me quite early on that though the Supreme Labyrinth was the objective everyone was gunning for, it wasn't going to be the focal point of this book, so in many ways this was just ‘how everyone got to the Labyrinth'. Which is fine - to quote another series I'm currently reading, Journey before Destination - but it does make it the second book in a row where there's not a real conclusion. I'm glad Matthew Reilly addresses this in his interview and calls it essentially a three-part story leading to the Omega Event, and it gives him more of an opportunity to do it justice.
All in all, the The Two Lost Mountains manages to lay the groundwork for the grand finale of the series by really bringing out the desperation but also the determination of Jack and his team. With so many players in the game and literally the entire universe at stake, I can't wait to see how it all wraps up.
This was an enjoyable read from Brandon Sanderson. Edgedancer is not mind-blowing, but contains some satisfying character arcs together with what is some impressive world building for a novella of this length, and certainly is a change of pace from the weighty tomes of The Way of Kings and Words of Radiance.
I can definitely see why some of the plot and character development here will be important for the rest of the Stormlight Archive. After her first introduction in Words of Radiance and now her further adventures here, I'm quite interested to see the ‘significant' role that Sanderson has planned for Lift later in the series, even though at this stage, I find myself more intrigued by what her experiences and abilities mean for the Knights Radiant and the overall plot of the Stormlight Archive as a whole, rather than being really drawn to or invested in her as a protagonist. I didn't have the same issues with her character generally like some people seem to do so, but can understand that if someone came to Edgedancer from the main series expecting a Kaladin or Dalinar tone, this book would have been a surprise.
After this meaningful little jaunt to to Azir and Tashikk, it's time to get back to the big storyline with Oathbringer.
I think everything there is to say about this book has largely already been said. I've been putting off getting into the Stormlight Archive for a while just because of the sheer scale and scope of what it is intended to be and (to be honest) what it already is, but having finally taken the plunge in anticipation of the release of Rhythm of War in November, I can only say that it's certainly living up to what I expected it to be after this first book.
The Way of Kings is definitely not the fastest or action-packed book in the world, but if anything, that contributed rather than detracted from my appreciation of it. It is clear that Brandon Sanderson has put years of thought into the world of Roshar, the people and the creatures the inhabit it, their histories, cultures and philosophies, and the story that pulls them all together. It was extremely fulfilling to work through almost 1000 pages of slow and steady build-up, to have the final 200 pages round it all off with intense action, powerful plot twists, and meaningful revelations that at the same time manage to both tie off the book as its own opus, but also set up so much more for the rest of the series.
Over 2500 pages still stand between me and Rhythm of War, but if this continues (which by all accounts it does), I'll have no complaints.
I must admit I struggled with this book. As a lover of historical fiction, I'm generally quite open to re-tellings of Greek history, especially when ‘history' in this case is quasi-myth, but I felt this book had all the right intentions and great ideas, but was poorly executed.
The main issue I had was the lack of flow throughout the book. While the premise was to show the Trojan War through the eyes of the female characters rather than male, this would have been done a lot better if there was more of a sense of chronology to the way it was told. The constant flitting between different viewpoints and characters meant that the only ones I felt I could truly appreciate and engage with were the Trojan Women. For the others, most of the time you barely spent enough time to understand their position before it was onto the next viewpoint, never to return. This was a shame, because there were very poignant moments in the midst of all the jumping around, which did not get to shine properly due to abrupt transitions and the lack of focus.
I have to say I was also put off somewhat by the unapologetic modern feminist tone that pervades the voices and the perspective of a lot of the characters. While it's obvious that the women's story of the Trojan War is bound to highlight and reinterpret the ways that women would have experienced and reacted to the various situations that they came across, this can be done in a way that does not make every male character seem either guilty, violent or downright despicable. In some places, I felt the perspectives were quite clever and convincing (Andromache's story comes to mind) but more often than not, it felt like the need to push a feminist agenda detracted from the quality of the story telling and, together with the episodic structure, made some of the viewpoints feel emotionally shallow and unimaginative.
A Thousand Ships has quite an ambitious scope and a very interesting premise, and at some points it lives up to that, but overall I feel it falls short of what it set out to achieve.
The Power Mage trilogy is set of books that I've had on my to-read list for a while. Given that I managed to finish Promise of Blood in a week, I would say it was certainly a great read, and there's a lot to like about it.
The setting was one of the things that first brought the series to my attention. Having not read any ‘flintlock' fantasy before, and also having a historical interest in the Napoleonic period, I was quite drawn to the backdrop of revolutionary and early-industrial warfare and politics, and I was very intrigued as to how the fantasy genre would fit into this kind of premise. Brian McClellan implements this very well, and I felt he balanced all the various aspects of Adro and its society solidly, weaving together the various branches of the military, the church, the nobles, the merchants, the underground and the people to form quite a vivid and convincing world. Both the battle scenes as well as the clandestine operations are dramatically portrayed, and the direct prose keeps the storytelling focussed and easy to follow.
I noticed that many people seemed to have issues around the pacing. This didn't really impact my enjoyment of the book, as I thought the ebb and flow of the plot was relatively organic, and the movement between the different POVs not only provided good coverage of the overall direction of the story, but also kept me engaged with the various events that were happening on both a micro and macro level. There were a few occasions where the occurrence of multiple perspectives within the same chapter was a little disconcerting, but I did not feel like the progression of the plot stumbled as a result.
The main element of Promise of Blood which did not quite work for me was the magic systems, or rather the magic systems. Like most others have expressed, the concept of powder mages and the way that their abilities work is ingenious and cleverly thought out, and I enjoyed seeing Tamas and Taniel bring their skills to bear the various scenarios, as well as the different talents exhibited amongst the powder mages. However, the magic of the Privileged was rather less satisfactory to me, especially as it was never clear what any of them was really capable of doing or how their magic worked beyond the twiddling of some fingers. I'm not sure whether this is due to the fact that the reader never gets the viewpoint of a Privileged, or whether this remains something to be fleshed out in the remaining books, but the result is that it feels like McClellan couldn't quite decide whether it should be a ‘hard' or a ‘soft' system and it doesn't really work as either. Similarly, the Knacked also feel a bit like skills that the author wanted certain characters to have, but didn't quite fit within the other forms of magic, so were lumped into a catchall without any real definition. Combine this with the power of potential deities and you are left with quite the confusing conglomeration.
All in all, it must be noted that this is the first novel in trilogy, and a debut novel no less. With this in mind, I found Promise of Blood a very compelling read and was thoroughly impressed with what Brian McClellan has brought to the table. Now to see what the next course entails.
I have been looking forward to seeing the final instalment of The Licanius Trilogy since I finished the An Echo of Things to Come almost two years ago. As appears to be the case for many others, I didn't get around to re-reading both the previous books before starting with The Light of All That Falls, so even with the helpful summary of previous events, it was a bit of a cold start, and took me a few chapters to get back into. I think this series could definitely do with a top-to-tail reread in the future to come to fully appreciate the complexity of the plot and how it fits into the world crafted by James Islington.
Speaking of the complexity of the plot, I felt that this was one of the best, but at the same time the most problematic, elements of both this book and the trilogy as a whole. On the one hand, the intricacies of both the individual storylines of the main characters as well as the ways in which they interconnected was extremely well done, and made for good pacing as well as character development. On the other hand, the complexity meant that some plot points and decisions were difficult to follow without the reader's complete and utter concentration, and together with the smorgasbord of secondary characters, outlandish names and time travel thrown into the mix, I found myself having to double back in a few places to make sure I had understood what was happening.
The other things that greatly impressed me about Islington's writing were his ability to bring out the driving themes of the book, while also showing great attentiveness to maintaining internal consistency and the details of his magic system. I particularly enjoyed the treatment of the driving themes of destiny and fate vs freedom of choice, and the importance of being the person that one wants to be rather than being governed by how one is perceived by others, both of which are convincingly engaged with by the characters in their thoughts, choices and interactions. The improvements in the use of Essence and kan were also creatively developed and realistically required attentive study and practice. Although I did feel that the last battle did fall a bit flat in terms of displaying the full extent of the characters' abilities, the epilogue was nevertheless a satisfying way to wrap up the series.
Ultimately, I think this is a 4.5 for me - an engaging and immersive final book which ticks the majority of the boxes, definitely merits a re-read, and makes me interested to see what the author will come out with in the future, but didn't quite have the X factor to top it off.
This was a fast paced and well written account of the crucial decades leading up to the end of the Roman Republic. To someone who both had studied and has a particular interest in this area of history, most of the content was already quite familiar, but Duncan does a very good job at taking the complex political, social and economic issues from the period and tying them together into a cohesive ‘storyline'. I felt that the underpinning of the entire narrative with the collapse of the mos maiorum and the interweaving of relevant references to digestible excerpts of ancient sources was especially well done. There was unavoidably some simplification of certain events and relationships, and I did feel the treatment of certain elements was a little bit dated, such as the ‘optimates' and ‘populares' division. Overall though, a solid telling of some of the most underrated years of Roman Republican history, and an enjoyable read.
I think the speed at which I finished this book, despite being on holiday for half the period, goes to show how much I enjoyed it.
It's hard to think that this is Brandon Sanderson's debut trilogy. The worldbuilding and magic system are amazing, the characters are unique and well developed, and the plot is engaging. Though people seem generally to have issues with the first part of the books being ‘slow', as usual I didn't really find this to be a problem, and largely felt the additional information added to the character development, continuity and immersion in the world, even if there was indeed some repeated informarion. As is the overall consensus though, the climaxes are definitely the shining points in each of the books, and the final one provided these in spades.
I particularly enjoyed the elements of the trilogy that dealt with politics and religion in ways that I feel I haven't really seen in other fantasy series, including the birth of a religious icon, the ideological impacts of a regime change, and the difficulties of reshaping an empire instead of conquering or inheriting it. The way that these considerations integrated rather seamlessly into the overall plot and contributed both to character development as well as worldbuilding was extremely well done.
Of course, it wasn't a perfect book or trilogy, and my main complaint (if it can be considered one) is that, as others have pointed out, the prose isn't the prettiest and some of the dialogue is a bit clunky. However, there is also something refreshing about having straight uncomplicated language that only serves to be highlight the strengths of the books and made the read itself largely effortless. Sanderson also certainly improves as the series goes on, and there are passages in The Hero of Ages that show his potential to exploit the emotive impact of his words.
And when it comes to continuation, there's still plenty more to unpack about the world of the Final Empire, especially given how the trilogy concludes. While there are things to read before grappling with the next era of the Mistborn books, this first taste of Sanderson's own work has definitely whetted my appetite for more, and I'm looking forward to dive deeper into his Cosmere universe.
A lot of the negative reviews for this book take issue with its true historicity and its revisionist and somewhat unapologetic agenda. I admit that I got into the book expecting it to be an account of Genghis Khan's conquests with an addendum expounding his legacy, but it was rather the other way around. However, I think it was also quite clear from the outset that Jack Weatherford's aim in this book was not to recount historical facts, but rather to approach the entire perception of the Mongol Empire from a different angle.
I thought the book was well-written and easy to read, and was only after I finished reading it that I realised it's actually almost 15 years old. Although undeniably biased towards the Mongols, it certainly does the job of shedding light on elements of the Mongol story that aren't often the focus of historical accounts, and raises some thought provoking points regarding the some more subtle impacts that Genghis Khan had on the world.
Ultimately, to quote Mr Ollivander, I think Genghis Khan has to be considered ‘Terrible, but great'. This book may sway slightly too far in favour of the ‘great', but it's good to reminded about that perspective of history in a well articulated read.
I wavered for a long time about whether to give this 4 or 5. I felt The Secret Commonwealth was definitely better than La Belle Sauvage, but it was a question of by how much.
It was a great feeling to come back to Lyra, even though the Lyra in this book is very different to the one we left at the end of His Dark Materials. I felt the character progression was very much believable - having gone through adolescence and education at a leading university, she is understandably a much more rational, sceptical young lady. However, she is still definitely haunted by her 13 year old self, both in terms of her experiences and through Pan, who continues to reflect her true character.
One of the strongest themes of the book was this exploration of the relationships between daemons and their humans, in light of them being separate beings but manifestations of the same spirit. The allusions to soul-searching, self-doubt and even mental illness were well thought out, and showed daemons as much more complex than natural spiritual counterparts. The conflict between rationalism and imagination, although sometimes a little pushed, was also engagingly addressed, and it was especially interesting to see it play out in Lyra's world where the fantastical and the extraordinary are much more apparent and ‘real'. The political maneuvering and machinations were intriguing too, and the continuation of tensions and issues from both La Belle Sauvage and His Dark Materials combined with Pullman's masterful weaving of the different story threads made it quite immersive.
I think the difficulty with The Secret Commonwealth is a combination of its length combined with its status as the middle book in the trilogy. The suspense gradually builds towards the second half of the book as Lyra's problems spiral into the wider world, and with Pan's disconnection and also Malcolm's acts of espionage, the plot expands significantly. However, while there are many episodic climaxes and thrilling moments, there's no culmination or denouement, nothing that ultimately ties the plot together. This isn't helped by the cliffhanger ending, which though dramatic, left me feeling thoroughly unsatisfied. Given the tone of the book, which grows progressively darker, and it's not inconsiderable amount of pages, the lack of resolution left a bitter aftertaste. There's also the questionable Malcolm/Lyra coupling and the violent scene towards the end that was bound to cause discomfort, but many have picked at those already.
Ultimately, I think this was a difficult book for Pullman to write. On the one hand, he is returning to a fan-beloved character and world, both of which provide some easy familiarity. On the other hand, he has to introduce struggles and conflicts for both the world and the character that are somehow more complex and intense than the previous series where multiple worlds and universes were at stake. The result is a fantasy semi-thriller with a hint of grimdark seasoning, a YA adventure that wants to be a philosophical action drama. While on the whole it works very well, taking me on an intellectually gripping and well-crafted ride, it never really got me to a destination. Let's hope the next book shows us where that is.
I think this was a 3.5.
The best parts of this book were its immersiveness and its plot. Lindsey Davis manages to bring out the full vibrance of the Roman Empire, from the provincial backwaters of Britain to the contrasting splendour and squalor of Rome. The plot was also intriguing the whole way through, with multiple crimes and mysteries that incorporated aspects of both public and private life intertwining into the conclusion.
It was interesting for once to have a detective that wasn't naturally blessed with amazing skills of deduction, and instead got to the bottom of things through sheer determination and strength of character. However, the flip side of this was that Falco was never a particularly appealing protagonist - irascible, sardonic and unable to fit comfortably in any of the social classes, his streak of irrepressible curiosity wasn't enough to elevate him beyond seeming to me like a rather ordinary citizen who happened to become involved in this chain of events.
Additionally, the pacing of the novel is quite fast, and although this greatly added to the sense of excitement and urgency when things were coming to a head, it also meant that the narrative was choppy at times, and some of the intrigues did not feel adequately unpacked.
Nevertheless, there are 20 books in this series, and I'm still definitely interested to see where Falco goes from here.
This is another 4.5 which, though an excellent book, doesn't quite make it to be utterly brilliant for me.
I've seen a few reviews treat Circe either as a ‘retelling' or a ‘reimagining', but I think it is more accurately a ‘reinterpretation'. Miller has taken various elements of Classical Greek myth (which in themselves are often inconsistent and non-linear) and woven them together into an account of the heroic age told from an unexpected focal point.
Aside from the wonderful prose that she has carried over from The Song of Achilles, I think the thing that Miller does best is deal with the anthropomorphism of the Greek gods, and just how much (or little) they have in common with humans. While the account is already ‘unconventional' in the sense of taking the perspective of a minor female goddess, it is also rare to have a story of this period where we get to see what it may have been like to be a deity. This exploration of the line between mortal and immortal, and how the strengths and weaknesses of each can manifest in the other, was immensely interesting for me.
The thing that kept it from a perfect score for me was the absence of a substantial plot. I was a decent portion through the book before I realised that this was going to essentially be a character study for Circe rather than a complete narrative, and while it works extremely well as such, the result is that the pacing is very jumpy, and some of the climactic moments felt less impactful than they should have been.
However, while this book won't be for those looking for an action driven and fast paced romp through Greek mythology, it is certainly a well written and thoughtfully considered portrayal of Circe, and engagingly sheds light on elements of that world that are generally passed over.
I went into this book with no background about it aside from the knowledge that the series had been made into a show, but by all accounts it was quite a fantasy classic. So I had quite high hopes for The Sword of Shannara, but this one really didn't click for me.
Most of the criticism leveled against it seems to be due to its very heavy use of The Lord of the Rings as its source material. This I didn't actually mind that much, since there's a reason that Tolkien is as popular and influential as he is, and though the resulting plot is understandably unoriginal, it is still a good story. However such a close adaptation automatically invites comparison with the original, and in all respects, I feel like Brooks' work falls short.
The characters are less well rounded out and engaging, the plot is less cohesive, and the prose far more clunky. Even the world, although populated with a nice assortment of races and cultures, did not feel particularly well crafted, with some elements more fleshed out than others, and random bits of information which often seemed irrelevant. I also expected this interesting premise of a world 2000 years after a nuclear war to bring something extra to the standard fantasy setting, but there was little to be found. Brooks' narration style didn't help, with a weird third person omniscience sometimes jumping to character perspective which seemed to break up the narrative flow.
In saying that, The Sword of Shannara does have its moments, and the story is solid enough that I was able to finish it without feeling like it was a trial, so I won't relegate it to one star status. But it remains to be seen what Brooks can bring to the table in the rest of the trilogy to prove his place as a fantasy great.
I wanted to give this 4 stars, but I think it's more like a 3.5
It was quite an enjoyable read, and Bernard Cornwell does a great job as usual of putting the reader quite vividly in the setting of late 16th century London, but I struggled to get really invested in the characters. Even Richard, though well rounded, didn't feel particularly engaging.
Nevertheless, some Shakespeare and some intriguing historical playhouse politics contributed to a decent storyline, and it was a nice little break from heavy fantasy.
A solid murder mystery set against the backdrop of quite a vividly depicted ancient Athens. The main characters were well-rounded and engaging, and there were some great spontaneous interactions combined with some fitting historical and literary references. The resolution was a somewhat predictable, and I felt the denouement was a little rushed, but these did not detract from it being overall just a decent story. Nothing dazzling, but certainly an enjoyable read.
What a marathon read. And at the end of it, I can definitely understand why this series, and Tad Williams as an author, stands on one of the highest pedestals of fantasy writing.
To Green Angel Tower, and Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn as a series, is by no means perfect. There were some predictable twists, the ending was a little anticlimactic, and the Tolkien's legacy is clearly felt. But these elements can't detract from the absolutely immersive and amazingly deep world-building, as well as the engaging and captivating characters which Williams has been able to create. The struggles and trials, both internal and external, for the cast members were particularly vivid, which made their successes and failures all the more powerful. This is all delivered with a prose that is incredibly expressive, almost poetic, resulting in a reading experience that was constantly enjoyable despite the length.
I'll probably have to take a break with something lighter after this behemoth book, but I'm certainly keen to be back for more with Williams' own return to Osten Ard.
This is a 3.5 for me. A fascinating and engaging account of one of the most colourful non-Roman personalities of the last century BC, which is extensively researched and draws together a massive range of different sources and subject areas. Ultimately though, I feel like Mayor did not manage to prove her thesis that Mithradates was Rome's deadliest enemy, and there was a lot of hero build up and mythologisation which eventually only demonstrated that his greatness was more illusory than concrete. The fascinating nature of Mithradates' life and times though is indubitable, and Mayor's multifaceted approach to his character was certainly engaging, even if somewhat historically fantastical.
A solid book to finish off the Riftwar Saga.
Loose ends from the previous books, especially Silverthorn were tied off, and most of the characters received continued development, which was good to see. The set piece battle of Armengar was the highlight for me (as it appears to be for many others), and the reveal of the Enemy was thematically satisfying and made for a good twist. There were definitely moments where it felt like Feist was really coming into his own, and who doesn't love some dragons?
Unfortunately some of my issues from the earlier books continue to affect my judgement of this one. The magic system is still completely obscure, and is further complicated by the different kinds of magics that different characters can wield, none of which are properly elucidated. The addition of a time manipulation sequence, though well written, seemed to extend this fantasy element to a whole new level of surreal. And speaking of time, arbitrary amounts of days and weeks continue to abound in this book, though admittedly they are nowhere near the level of Magician.
I've also noticed Feist's penchant for starting chapters or sections with one liners. Often they do work to create the tone or atmosphere that he's after, but they also lose their effectiveness with overuse. Sadly, now that I've seen it, I cannot unsee.
This concluding book has given me enough incentive to give the other Riftwar novels a chance, which I was honestly expecting not to feel after Magician. However, I'll probably be going to something else first.
A 3.5 star was really needed for this. It's definitely better than good, but I'm not sure it quite makes it to great.
I've come to the The Riftwar Saga rather late in my list of fantasy to-reads, especially given the age of the series. Unfortunately, I think it is that age which drags it down a little. The story itself is pretty awesome - the whole notion of a young magician, coming into his own against the background of an inter-world cross-cultural clash and domestic political upheaval, and learning about the extent of his power across both worlds, is a thrilling and exciting premise with the potential for great plotlines, expansive world building and complex characters. However, while I enjoyed seeing the story unfold, I felt my engagement with Midkemia and Kelewan rather lacking.
The main issues that I had with Magician were the character tropes, the passage of time, and how magic actually worked. I read somewhere that Feist's inspiration for this book arose from games of Dungeons and Dragons, and I think this is definitely reflected in the characters. Aside from Pug, Tomas and Arutha, most of the characters seemed to very clearly fit pre-existing tropes and conventions, and had rather little personality development beyond how they were influenced by events within the story. Familiar and easy to acquaint with, but also not always terribly interesting.
The time issue is linked to this - while characters aged, the majority of them did not depart from their expected ‘progression' as it were. The amount of time passing between certain events also seemed completely arbitrary in nature- sometimes chapters would follow day by day, only to then skip forward by months, or even years. The scale of a 9 year war is significantly diminished when you only see events from 2 or 3 years of it.
The magic system is probably a bit of a personal gripe for me. Having come from The Wheel of Time and The Kingkiller Chronicles where the magic systems are cleverly constructed and weaved into the fabric of their universes, the magic in a book titled ‘Magician' seemed underwhelming and shallow in terms of what a magician could do and how it was done. Often, it seemed impossible to determine whether something could or couldn't be done by magic, and I almost felt I knew understood less about the magic even as Pug grew to understand it more. Perhaps it lends itself to the mysterious quality of magic, but it made it difficult to connect with as a reader.
Ultimately, I think I set my expectations a bit high going into this series. I'm curious as to where it goes next, as most of the ends in Magician seem pretty well tied off (aside from whatever Macros is up to), but it'll also be interesting to see how Feist's writing develops. For this book though, my verdict is that it's an enjoyable read, but nothing to lose sleep over.
“What has Hector ever done to me?”
I think this was the line in the book that really got me. The latent foreshadowing in this question is so incredibly powerful, and encapsulated so much of what makes the Achilles and Patroclus relationship such an engaging perspective through which to tell the story of the Trojan War. We know Achilles will die, but it's not because he kills Hector; it's not Achilles dying that kills Patroclus, it's Patroclus dying that kills Achilles; the one that hopes Achilles will live for longer is the one that brings his demise faster - and at the crux of that is that love which continues past death.
4.5 is my actual rating for this book. This was a masterful retelling of the Trojan War. For a tale that's almost as old as time, Miller has done a wonderful job of bringing Patroclus and Achilles to life in a way that connects with the modern society and reflects the timelessness of Homer's epic. As a casual ancient scholar, I greatly appreciated all the many ways in which Miller engaged with her source material, from the manifold nuances of the book's name, to the special selection of scenes like Phoinix's storytelling and Priam's ransom of Hector's body, and down to individual character descriptions like Hector standing with his feet like roots driving deep into the soil. This homage to Homer, combined with the uniquely humane perspective of the characters which is rather more difficult to grasp in an epic poem, made the book a very enjoyable read.
The reason I couldn't quite give this a five star rating was that the intensity of the focus on Patroclus and his connection to Achilles sometimes detracted from the sense of realism which I expected a more down to earth and human perspective of the story would bring. For instance, Patroclus seems so completely unremarkable at the start of the book that Achilles' sudden decision to choose him as his companion is almost silly. I understand it works as a great set up to pair the most unlikely candidate with the greatest of Greeks, only for him to become the true Aristos Achaion, but it did seem a little forced, especially as Patroclus, though never Achilles' equal, is usually not seen as incapable. Also, I would have liked to see more of how the 10 year length of the war impacted both the soldiers and the characters. Admittedly, the story is Achilles and Patroclus focused, and there is also far less source material for the first nine years, but I thought this would have been the perfect place for Miller to exercise some creative licence and develop Achilles and Patroclus' relationship with each other and with the other Greek characters more progressively, rather than in vignettes rushing into the denouement.
Ultimately though, these are minor and personal quibbles with an expressive and evocative story told in clean yet emotive prose, and as a self-professed connoisseur of ancient historical fiction, this book stands undoubtedly as one of the highlights of the genre.
A difficult rating.
I could see what Patrick Rothfuss was trying to do, and on that count, I felt he did very well. The atmospheric perspective of Auri was amazingly captured, and both the prose as well as the narrative style contributed to (in Rothfuss' own words) a vignette of the Underthing and its mysterious inhabitant which was powerful and evocative.
But, to put it bluntly, it didn't engage me me, and I found it difficult to connect with or comprehend what Auri was doing or feeling. The further I got into The Slow Regard of Silent Things, the more I felt that the appeal of Auri's character in the main series derives from her contrast to the ‘normal' world and her special relationship with Kvothe, and reading a ‘week in the life of Auri' just made her feel more pedestrian.
The illustrations were awesome though!
The Dark Materials was one of my favourite series growing up, and accordingly I have been very keen to come back to the Lyra's world. La Belle Sauvage definitely scratched that itch for me, and I liked how I could feel immediately immersed back in that world from the very beginning. Some reviews have complained about how the first half is relatively slow plot-wise, but I rather enjoyed getting to know Malcolm, Alice and the supporting cast through Malcolm's little adventures - it reminded me a little of Lyra running around Oxford in The Northern Lights.
My main gripe was with the second half. While the change of pace was certainly exhilarating, and some of the dramatic sequences were very intense and exciting, the inclusion of the more fantastical chapters felt somewhat jarring, especially given the comparative lack of fantasy elements in the first half. Additionally, Bonneville's uncanny ability to continually track down Malcolm and Alice became slightly unbelievable by a certain point. The ending of the book also seemed quite rushed, particularly in contrast to the slow start.
Nevertheless, this was all delivered in Pullman's experienced and engaging prose, and was definitely a pleasure to read. Given this is the first in a trilogy, I am very intrigued as to how this story will continue to play out in the following books.