Reading roundup
16. Steven Brust (skzbrust), Dzur -- It's like the Taltos books come prepackaged with an Oblivate spell -- because while I remember characters and some character development I cannot for the life of me recall the plot of these damn things. It is uncanny. I think this is the first Taltos book I've read since reading Chronicles of Amber, and boy, the homage or "influencesgeneral aesthetic" or whatever is really quite striking. First-person fantasy protagonists are pretty rare to begin with, and ones with a distinctive, conversational style stand out even more. Not that Vlad and Corwin are much alike -- they're not, actually, at all -- but the particular narration gives the books a similar kind of feel. I actually don't have particularly strong feelings about this book specifically. My favorite part was actually the description of the meal Valabar's, portions of which open each chapter. Which is not to say that the rest of the book was dull -- just that Vlad is a *really good* food narrator. I don't think I've ever had a book make me hungrier, and I'm not even a foodie-type person. I wanna eat at Valabar's, dammit!
Right. Moving on. The rest of the book: It didn't have Morrolan, who is my favorite, and I think I like younger Vlad better than older-but-somewhat-wiser Vlad with an ex-wife, though I do still like this Vlad a lot. I did discover/remember that I like Kragar; still rather indifferent to the rest of the cast, excluding, of course, Loiosh, who is a wonderful familiar. I still admire and am simultaneously slightly exasperated by the sort of elided style in which these books are written, where conversations are authentically vague and wandering and bits of action are inferred only via dialogue (like Vlad throwing his glass at the wall, for example). I mentioned not too long ago, in one of those book meme things, that I prefer endings with closure the endings without it. That's another way in which these books frustrate me (but not in a bad way, just in a... challenging way) -- the end just... cuts off. Nothing is resolved -- really, *nothing* -- not Vlad and Cawti's relationship, not Vlad being chased by the Jhereg, not the enmity of the Left Hand of Jhereg, not really, not the Lady Teldra thing, and the whole thing with the Demon Goddess is improved only very slightly. And, of course, we get a revelation on, like, the last page and then the screen goes black right before that's given any chance to even start playing out. It's -- well, realstic, probably, in that big problems are not solved quickly or completely, and it's a rather short book -- but, god! would it kill to have a *little bit* of closure? (Again, this is *good*, wanting-more frustration -- I'm just bad with open-ended books.)
While trying to make sure I was spelling "Valabar's" correctly, I did come across a small fanfic archive of that name. Which includes some Vlad/Morrolan NC-17 slash which makes a valiant attempt to reproduce Vlad's distinctive narrative style, as I'm sure we are all reassured to know.
Also, note to self: Dragaera Wiki.
17. Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel's Scion -- Holy crap! I think Carey may actually be a considerably better writer than I was giving her credit for based on the Phedre-narrated books. Because I actually really like this one, rather than reading it through a haze of annoyance with the narrator and several other characters. Boy, what a difference does that make! I really like Imriel. He is a brooding teenager burdened by a tragic past and associated with all the main characters of the preceding trilogy, which of course makes him prime Gary-Stu territory. And there's a bit of that, to be sure, but, unlike Phedre, he has a sense of humour about himself, and plenty of other characters have a sense of humour about him, and he takes their mocking as due, and that marks a HUGE improvement over Phedre and the abject worship of her by anyone and everyone. The sense of D'Angeline superiority that was built not only into the narrator but also the plot is not only not omnipresent here but also deliberately tweaked, and I really, really appreciated the meta, and Imriel mocking D'Angeline hauteur and self-centeredness -- fondly, as one does, but with a great deal of self-awareness. This is true of other characters, too.
And there is also a subtler and more nuanced -- and more "realsitic" -- look at how Elua's central precept ("Love as thou wilt") comes into conflict is and needs to be managed within the context of continuing the royal line and strengthening international alliances and such. Unlike in the Phedre trilogy, the good guys cannot all afford to marry (or shack up permanently) for love, and there's even strain on the improbably perfect love-match of Ysandre and Drustan's wedding from the first trilogy. I also thought the turning of popular opinion away from the main character was a lot more believably managed than in Kushiel's Avatar, where Ysandre is supposedly jealous of Phedre, who has to flee to Serenissima. Of course, with Imriel being a traitors' son rather than a hero of the realm, that's a more believable premise to begin with, but it was still better done.
And have I mentioned I really like Imriel? I dislike angsty characters in general, even when the angst is well-deserved, but here it's treated as an actual flaw and not a badge of honour, by Imriel and those that surround him. And he tries to deal with it, and to have a sense of humour about it, and that serves to make him a lot more endearing, as do a number of other, anti-Gary-Stu things, like Imriel being outraged that the girl in Valerian house thought him "sweet", "rescuing" a whore, getting punched in the face for demonstrating his Cassiline style of fighting. The way, time and again, his adolescently lofty expectations of himself are shattered by reality -- and that he narrates those scenes with self-awareness and humour. Even the simple fact that he fights his battles as a common soldier, mostly -- not even the commander of his squadron -- and the one moment of solitary heroism that isn't in some way diminished by reality -- his rescuing of Helena -- he does end up actually bearing consequences for.
Still love Joscelin, by the way. Joscelin as father-figure to Imriel was actually one of my favorite aspects of this book, and certainly the sweetest. The hero-worship Imri feels for him (along with all of Montreve's boys), Joscelin getting in trouble with Phedre for not preventing Imri's illness at the Longest Night vigil. And, of course, Joscelin rescuing Imri at the seedy pub: ("Go ahead. I reckon you owe him one.[...] I said one.")
Other characters -- I do like Alais, but she is so clearly *meant* to be likeable. And I find the Imriel/Alais interaction to be a lot like the Jon/Arya interaction in ASOIAF, with Sidonie in the haughty "Sansa" role (except, you know, I'm pretty sure we're not going to be getting any Jon/Sansa, regardless of whose son he really is...). I did see the Imriel/Sidonie thing a mile away -- there was just too much of the same kind of antagonism as Joscelin and Phedre started with, but, OK, whatever.
Eammon is more an archetype than a character, but I really liked his meta lines: "You people do like your buggery" may be my favorite in the entire series. I liked Lucius, too, and all the more as the book went on (and actually kind of wish Imriel would get over his hang-ups and get with the buggery program, because he totally has more chemistry with Lucius -- and Maslin, seriously! -- than with the girls he beds or lusts after. The kiss was nice, but I was disappointed that it didn't go beyond that.), but it was Gallus Tadeus I found myself *really* liking. Of course, my character kink for ruthlessly competent men and/or really accomplishes soldiers is nothing new, but still...
As far as plot things... The book felt a bit amorphous, to be honest -- there was not really a build-up to some central conflict and resolution, the way the three Phedre books work. Even Kushiel's Dart, which bears the burden of introducing Phedre and describing her early life, much as Scion does for Imriel, has the constant thread of Melisande in it, and Skaldia brought in fairly early on, and Hyacinthe's thematic thread as well. Scion does not feel nearly that cohesive, but I didn't mind, actually, because, again, Imri is a much more pleasant narrator, even when he is describing his every day life.
I was impressed that Carey actually went there and dealt with Phedre / Imriel attraction. Not that that's my thing, on any number of levels, but it made sense for it to happen, and for Imri to react as he did. Also, handled much better than "secondary good guy deaths" in the Phedre trilogy, I though, was Gilot's death -- it almost made me cry, and I was especially impressed with the way it continued to be dealt with until the very end, and continued to be at the forefront of Imri's mind. Sure, Phedre supposedly felt grief and guilt over Delauney and Alcuin's deaths, as well as Remy and Fortun's, but it hardly ever got mentioned except when she needed more reasons to angst. I could actually *see* and believe Imriel's reaction.
Little things I liked, like Eammon mispronouncng/misremembering the name of Lombelon, or Imri calling Dorelai "Lorelai" while he was drunk. It makes for a much more comfortable atmosphere than Phedre's ominously purple narration.
So, yeah, really liked this book. And am, for the first time, seriously looking forward to the sequel (Kushiel's Justice, June 2007). The cover blurb doesn't sound terribly enticing, but neither did Scion's. I hope to not be disappointed.
18. Francesca Lia Block, Missing Angel Juan -- This was actually a lot better than Cherokee Bat (which I didn't like). At first I was put off by the first-person narration (Witch Baby's POV), but it actually worked quite well -- she has an interesting narrative voice, to be sure, even if it does inexplicably slide into second person at one point. Anyway, I liked her narration, and I liked Charlie Bat (I don't think I realized until this book that he was supposed to be Jewish) and the way his ghostliness was accomplished, and the whole creepy/magical realism thing going on, with the photo strip and the postcard appearing and all the other traces of Angel Juan. The Cake's Shakin' Palace thing was rather heavy-handed but it *was* suitably creepy, and I didn't like the over-elucidation of "he was my fear of love and your inability to let go", but that was my major problem with the book, which wasn't bad at all. Favorite line: "a city where you can only tell the seasons by the peonies or pumpkins or poinsettias at the florists'."
19. Francesca Lia Block, Baby Be-Bop -- Hm. Well, still better than Cherokee Bat, not as good as the other books. My major problem with these books, I find, is when they wander into heavy-handed dogma territory -- even when it's dogma that I wholeheartedly agree with, like in this case. So, first half of part I was good, because the whole Dirk/Pup "puppy love that dares no speak its name" was nicely done, if without Block's signature interesting touches, but then when Dirk started getting into the whole punk thing it was just kind of random and teen-magaziney and not terribly compelling. But then Part II I liked again, with all of Dirk's weird ghost relatives. Though I gotta say, he seems to be remarkably well-adjusted for someone who hails from a long line of profoundly fucked-up individuals. Well, Fifi was normal and her husband was neat, with all of his bugs (or maybe I'm just favorably biased towards him because I wanted to have trained bugs as a kid and even tried to accomplish that by putting on an insect circus). But his parents and his great-grandmother were totally fucked-up. Still, that made for some interesting stories.
This is the first time in a while that I had mostly good things to say about all the books in a reading roundup. And, whoo! I'm actually caught up to the book/week thing, finally. Of course, now I'm going to slip behind again.
Right. Moving on. The rest of the book: It didn't have Morrolan, who is my favorite, and I think I like younger Vlad better than older-but-somewhat-wiser Vlad with an ex-wife, though I do still like this Vlad a lot. I did discover/remember that I like Kragar; still rather indifferent to the rest of the cast, excluding, of course, Loiosh, who is a wonderful familiar. I still admire and am simultaneously slightly exasperated by the sort of elided style in which these books are written, where conversations are authentically vague and wandering and bits of action are inferred only via dialogue (like Vlad throwing his glass at the wall, for example). I mentioned not too long ago, in one of those book meme things, that I prefer endings with closure the endings without it. That's another way in which these books frustrate me (but not in a bad way, just in a... challenging way) -- the end just... cuts off. Nothing is resolved -- really, *nothing* -- not Vlad and Cawti's relationship, not Vlad being chased by the Jhereg, not the enmity of the Left Hand of Jhereg, not really, not the Lady Teldra thing, and the whole thing with the Demon Goddess is improved only very slightly. And, of course, we get a revelation on, like, the last page and then the screen goes black right before that's given any chance to even start playing out. It's -- well, realstic, probably, in that big problems are not solved quickly or completely, and it's a rather short book -- but, god! would it kill to have a *little bit* of closure? (Again, this is *good*, wanting-more frustration -- I'm just bad with open-ended books.)
While trying to make sure I was spelling "Valabar's" correctly, I did come across a small fanfic archive of that name. Which includes some Vlad/Morrolan NC-17 slash which makes a valiant attempt to reproduce Vlad's distinctive narrative style, as I'm sure we are all reassured to know.
Also, note to self: Dragaera Wiki.
17. Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel's Scion -- Holy crap! I think Carey may actually be a considerably better writer than I was giving her credit for based on the Phedre-narrated books. Because I actually really like this one, rather than reading it through a haze of annoyance with the narrator and several other characters. Boy, what a difference does that make! I really like Imriel. He is a brooding teenager burdened by a tragic past and associated with all the main characters of the preceding trilogy, which of course makes him prime Gary-Stu territory. And there's a bit of that, to be sure, but, unlike Phedre, he has a sense of humour about himself, and plenty of other characters have a sense of humour about him, and he takes their mocking as due, and that marks a HUGE improvement over Phedre and the abject worship of her by anyone and everyone. The sense of D'Angeline superiority that was built not only into the narrator but also the plot is not only not omnipresent here but also deliberately tweaked, and I really, really appreciated the meta, and Imriel mocking D'Angeline hauteur and self-centeredness -- fondly, as one does, but with a great deal of self-awareness. This is true of other characters, too.
And there is also a subtler and more nuanced -- and more "realsitic" -- look at how Elua's central precept ("Love as thou wilt") comes into conflict is and needs to be managed within the context of continuing the royal line and strengthening international alliances and such. Unlike in the Phedre trilogy, the good guys cannot all afford to marry (or shack up permanently) for love, and there's even strain on the improbably perfect love-match of Ysandre and Drustan's wedding from the first trilogy. I also thought the turning of popular opinion away from the main character was a lot more believably managed than in Kushiel's Avatar, where Ysandre is supposedly jealous of Phedre, who has to flee to Serenissima. Of course, with Imriel being a traitors' son rather than a hero of the realm, that's a more believable premise to begin with, but it was still better done.
And have I mentioned I really like Imriel? I dislike angsty characters in general, even when the angst is well-deserved, but here it's treated as an actual flaw and not a badge of honour, by Imriel and those that surround him. And he tries to deal with it, and to have a sense of humour about it, and that serves to make him a lot more endearing, as do a number of other, anti-Gary-Stu things, like Imriel being outraged that the girl in Valerian house thought him "sweet", "rescuing" a whore, getting punched in the face for demonstrating his Cassiline style of fighting. The way, time and again, his adolescently lofty expectations of himself are shattered by reality -- and that he narrates those scenes with self-awareness and humour. Even the simple fact that he fights his battles as a common soldier, mostly -- not even the commander of his squadron -- and the one moment of solitary heroism that isn't in some way diminished by reality -- his rescuing of Helena -- he does end up actually bearing consequences for.
Still love Joscelin, by the way. Joscelin as father-figure to Imriel was actually one of my favorite aspects of this book, and certainly the sweetest. The hero-worship Imri feels for him (along with all of Montreve's boys), Joscelin getting in trouble with Phedre for not preventing Imri's illness at the Longest Night vigil. And, of course, Joscelin rescuing Imri at the seedy pub: ("Go ahead. I reckon you owe him one.[...] I said one.")
Other characters -- I do like Alais, but she is so clearly *meant* to be likeable. And I find the Imriel/Alais interaction to be a lot like the Jon/Arya interaction in ASOIAF, with Sidonie in the haughty "Sansa" role (except, you know, I'm pretty sure we're not going to be getting any Jon/Sansa, regardless of whose son he really is...). I did see the Imriel/Sidonie thing a mile away -- there was just too much of the same kind of antagonism as Joscelin and Phedre started with, but, OK, whatever.
Eammon is more an archetype than a character, but I really liked his meta lines: "You people do like your buggery" may be my favorite in the entire series. I liked Lucius, too, and all the more as the book went on (and actually kind of wish Imriel would get over his hang-ups and get with the buggery program, because he totally has more chemistry with Lucius -- and Maslin, seriously! -- than with the girls he beds or lusts after. The kiss was nice, but I was disappointed that it didn't go beyond that.), but it was Gallus Tadeus I found myself *really* liking. Of course, my character kink for ruthlessly competent men and/or really accomplishes soldiers is nothing new, but still...
As far as plot things... The book felt a bit amorphous, to be honest -- there was not really a build-up to some central conflict and resolution, the way the three Phedre books work. Even Kushiel's Dart, which bears the burden of introducing Phedre and describing her early life, much as Scion does for Imriel, has the constant thread of Melisande in it, and Skaldia brought in fairly early on, and Hyacinthe's thematic thread as well. Scion does not feel nearly that cohesive, but I didn't mind, actually, because, again, Imri is a much more pleasant narrator, even when he is describing his every day life.
I was impressed that Carey actually went there and dealt with Phedre / Imriel attraction. Not that that's my thing, on any number of levels, but it made sense for it to happen, and for Imri to react as he did. Also, handled much better than "secondary good guy deaths" in the Phedre trilogy, I though, was Gilot's death -- it almost made me cry, and I was especially impressed with the way it continued to be dealt with until the very end, and continued to be at the forefront of Imri's mind. Sure, Phedre supposedly felt grief and guilt over Delauney and Alcuin's deaths, as well as Remy and Fortun's, but it hardly ever got mentioned except when she needed more reasons to angst. I could actually *see* and believe Imriel's reaction.
Little things I liked, like Eammon mispronouncng/misremembering the name of Lombelon, or Imri calling Dorelai "Lorelai" while he was drunk. It makes for a much more comfortable atmosphere than Phedre's ominously purple narration.
So, yeah, really liked this book. And am, for the first time, seriously looking forward to the sequel (Kushiel's Justice, June 2007). The cover blurb doesn't sound terribly enticing, but neither did Scion's. I hope to not be disappointed.
18. Francesca Lia Block, Missing Angel Juan -- This was actually a lot better than Cherokee Bat (which I didn't like). At first I was put off by the first-person narration (Witch Baby's POV), but it actually worked quite well -- she has an interesting narrative voice, to be sure, even if it does inexplicably slide into second person at one point. Anyway, I liked her narration, and I liked Charlie Bat (I don't think I realized until this book that he was supposed to be Jewish) and the way his ghostliness was accomplished, and the whole creepy/magical realism thing going on, with the photo strip and the postcard appearing and all the other traces of Angel Juan. The Cake's Shakin' Palace thing was rather heavy-handed but it *was* suitably creepy, and I didn't like the over-elucidation of "he was my fear of love and your inability to let go", but that was my major problem with the book, which wasn't bad at all. Favorite line: "a city where you can only tell the seasons by the peonies or pumpkins or poinsettias at the florists'."
19. Francesca Lia Block, Baby Be-Bop -- Hm. Well, still better than Cherokee Bat, not as good as the other books. My major problem with these books, I find, is when they wander into heavy-handed dogma territory -- even when it's dogma that I wholeheartedly agree with, like in this case. So, first half of part I was good, because the whole Dirk/Pup "puppy love that dares no speak its name" was nicely done, if without Block's signature interesting touches, but then when Dirk started getting into the whole punk thing it was just kind of random and teen-magaziney and not terribly compelling. But then Part II I liked again, with all of Dirk's weird ghost relatives. Though I gotta say, he seems to be remarkably well-adjusted for someone who hails from a long line of profoundly fucked-up individuals. Well, Fifi was normal and her husband was neat, with all of his bugs (or maybe I'm just favorably biased towards him because I wanted to have trained bugs as a kid and even tried to accomplish that by putting on an insect circus). But his parents and his great-grandmother were totally fucked-up. Still, that made for some interesting stories.
This is the first time in a while that I had mostly good things to say about all the books in a reading roundup. And, whoo! I'm actually caught up to the book/week thing, finally. Of course, now I'm going to slip behind again.