- Fables: War and Pieces by Bill Willingham, with art by Mark Buckingham, et al. (graphic novel)
This 11th collection brings to a close the primary story arc of the Fables series (i.e., the refugee Fables' war with the Homeland), but not the series itself. After 10 collections, it was a bit...not anticlimactic or disappointing, really, but a bit surprising to have the war suddenly end. Of course, previous books (Vol. 4: March of the Wooden Soldiers; Vol. 8: Wolves) detailed heavy, pivotal battles, so this was just the final wave, I guess. I enjoyed the story and the art, as always. Being invested in the characters and concept, I'm sure I'll continue with the series. (Volume 12: The Dark Ages becomes available in August '09.)
- Luck in the Shadows by Lynn Flewelling (479 pp.)
first line (of the prologue): "Mouldering bone crumbled beneath their boots as Lord Mardus and Vargul Ashnazai lowered themselves down into the tiny chamber beneath the earthen mound."
first line (of the first chapter): "Asengai's torturers were regular in their habits--they always left off at sunset."
Having read the Tamir Cycle (the three prequel novels), I finally got around to the original Nightrunner novel. As evidenced by the opening lines, this is not your shiny, happy fantasy novel. That's right: no butterfly-chasing, unicorn-coaxing virgins need apply. (Well, I take that back. Alice Kohler's virgins might not mind.) I don't read much high fantasy these days, but Lynn Flewelling's good for tight stories with strong characters. And it's refreshing that someone's giving "alternate lifestyles" a prominent place in fantasy fiction.
- Stalking Darkness by Lynn Flewelling (501 pp.)
first line (of the prologue): "The lean ship smashed through foaming crests, pounding southwest out of Keston toward Skala."
first line (of the first chapter): "Sleet-laden winds lashed in off the winter sea, racketing through the dark streets of Rhiminee like a huge, angry child."
"Bitter as gall," Stalking Darkness picks up where Luck in the Shadows left off. The two books actually work quite well as a duology, as the story arc launched in Luck is decided in Darkness. It's neither Sturm und Drang nor quite gloom-and-doom, but the book(s) would best be enjoyed by people who like their fantasy crossed with horror...and, of course, laced with pansexuality.
- No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July (201 pp.)
stories: The Shared Patio / The Swim Team / Majesty / The Man on the Stairs / The Sister / This Person / It Was Romance / Something That Needs Nothing / I Kiss a Door / The Boy from Lam Kien / Making Love in 2003 / Ten True Things / The Moves / Mon Plaisir / Birthmark / How to Tell Stories to Children
I feel like I say this a lot about contemporary short stories, but it still applies: these are vignettes more than stories. They're compelling, and there are turns of phrase and passages I really loved and will return to...but they just end. This can be really frustrating. I'm starting to think anthologies of this ilk should come with a warning label. All this aside, my favorite from this collection has to be "Majesty"...just because.
- Watchmen by Alan Moore, with art by Dave Gibbons (graphic novel)
This runs darker than my normal tastes, but I can't deny that it's really well done. No Mary Sues to be seen. Plenty of tragic flaws. This has been around for a while, so I doubt there's much I could say that hasn't been said. For those who don't know, the superheroes of Watchmen don't have retractable claws or x-ray vision. Rather, they've got talent, tactics, training, drive, determination, no little bit of luck, and a whole lotta chutzpah...kinda like Batman...in a Shaolin martial arts movie.
And speaking of movies, the screen adaptation of Watchmen is remarkably well cast, acted, and directed. Pity about the ending, though.
- Eleanor Rigby by Douglas Coupland (249 pp.)
first line: "I had always thought that a person born blind and given sight later on in life through the miracles of modern medicine would feel reborn."
"Look at all the lonely people." Loneliness is definitely a prominent theme of this book: the experience of loneliness; the ways we cloak it; why and how we overcome it. It sounds like a real downer, but it's got some wonderful imagery and humor. One of my favorite quotes:
"the gas station...employees were the handsomest men any of us had ever seen, sculpted from gold, and with voices like songs. And there they were, in a gas station in the middle of nowhere, going to waste. They ought to have been perched on jagged lava cliffs having their hearts ripped out as sacrifices to the gods."
- Valiant: A Modern Tale of Faerie by Holly Black (313 pp.)
first line (of the prologue): "The tree woman choked on poison, the slow sap of her blood burning."
first line (of the first chapter): "Valerie Russell felt something cold touch the small of her back and spun around, striking without thinking."
Holly Black pulls no punches. Her Faeries are not for the faint of heart. Nor are her humans, for that matter. (See Lynn Flewelling, above. I'm starting to sense a trend among ConBust authors.) Her characters -- and their relationships and motivations -- are gritty and complex. Still, though, there's magic in the world. And while that doesn't candy-coat all the nastiness, it does help the medicine go down. Valiant easily stands alone, but I still recommend reading it in conjunction with the earlier Tithe and subsequent Ironside. (Tithe and Ironside are "Movie A," as it were; Valiant is the "B Side"...though no less compelling for that.)
I also attempted Mary Hoffman's Stravaganza: City of Masks, but I just couldn't get into it. I really can't pinpoint why. I don't think that the writing was poor or the characters and story bad. I stopped reading at the halfway point, or earlier, and then just skimmed along out of curiosity about plot resolution. I had this same problem with Melanie Gideon's The Map That Breathed, begun and abandoned more than once. Oh, well. If any F-lister thinks s/he might like either book (both children's fantasies, by the way), I still have both.