Reading roundup
59. T.A.Pratt, Poison Sleep -- book 2 of the Marla Mason chronicles, that I picked up on a whim (and without reading book 1). If it were better written, it might have been exactly what I've been looking for. As it is, it's not a bad series to tide me over between The Dresden Files books.
What I'm looking for -- what I've been looking for for years it feels like -- is good a supernatural procedural. I love the forensics/procedural mysteries (the early Kay Scarpetta books, before Cornwell entirely forgot how to write, the Alex Delaware books that are heavy on the police/psychologist work and lighter on the heroics), and I love fantasy, naturally, and you'd think the two would work together quite well. And, you know, they do -- in the Discworld Watch books. But, I dunno, maybe I was just spoiled by reading it the way Pratchett wrote it first, everything else in the crossover genre I've picked up (Dragon Precinct and the Cast in Shadow books from the second-world fantasy side, this series from the urban fantasy one) is just... not very good.
I must say, I still enjoyed reading this book. I don't think it's a good book, but it's a quick, sufficiently exciting read, and there are some rather neat bits in it. The worldbuilding is quite good -- there's the position of Chief Sorcerer guarding an ordinary modern-world city, the other kinds of magical denizens (lots and lots of variety), the idea of a forensic sorcerer (which I absolutely loved! -- that's precisely the kind of thing I want to see in this supernatural procedural I keep trying to find), neat artefacts, different types of magic curiously realized, and a solid grounding in the real world. All that works very well.
The problem comes from two sources: the characters, and the plot. The plot is, let's be honest, not terribly believable. I liked the final twist (Nicolette's betrayal of Gregar and its revelation), but the ones before that were really kind of a stretch. Joshua being a bad guy -- OK, I'm relieved, 'cos he would've been too good to be true otherwise. But it really *doesn't* make sense that he wouldn't have killed Marla when he had the chance. Or that Gregor would not have told Zealand about Joshua being his agent to make sure Zealand didn't kill him, too. That's just stupid. And Ted finding Terry Reeves as a "surprise" for Marla. Yeah, the phone calls he didn't tell Marla about are supposed to be a red herring to make Marla (and us) suspect that he, and not Joshua is the traitor, but a) it's really quite obviously done, and b) his actual motivation/behavior is not terribly believable. And I'm not sure I bought the whole idea of "dream contagion", which was central to the book. And Genevieve's victory and very speedy recovery feel very deus ex machina and way too easy. So, um, yeah... Most of the plot kinda didn't work for me, or worked only at a stretch, which made it a good deal harder to enjoy the book.
The other problem is characters. Or, well, character. There were some supporting folks I actually liked -- Zealand was interesting (and I have a soft spot for assassins who are amoral but capable of their own brand of heroism, *cough*Kincaid*cough*Jayne*cough*), even though the mold thing got rather surreal, and I liked Ted quite a lot -- but of course they both died. I rather liked Gregor as a reluctant villain -- self-preservation is a villainous motivation I find much easier to understand than ambition, and it's also fairly rare. Of course, he's dead, too. I really like Nicolette -- she's the surprise main villain, but she makes such a likeable sidekick, really sort of charming, in a kid sister way. And I like the chaotic crap in her hair! I hope she continues to be cool. I think I even sort of like Rondeau, even though there's precious little revealed of his actual character -- he is a colorful type, but I'm not sure we've seen any of the person (or entity -- and that's a nice touch, too) beneath that.
The main problem is Marla, who is the protagonist and the main POV character. She is a checklist of tough girl detective traits -- stubborn, rude, violent, a loner, a slob, and has moments of highly questionable morality. This doesn't make her unlikeable to me -- and I actually kind of like the pride she takes in being this universally hated bitch on wheels -- but there is no "there" there. There is not apparent depth to the character at all -- no hobbies, no personality quirks, nothing to give her any more dimension that the archetype for which she sprung. And that's really disappointing. There is one touching scene, where she brings water to the dying chimera, and that does hint at something underneath the archetype, but it's so fleeting that it's really hard to tell what.
Also, I don't really know how I feel about it, but it's sort of a very liberal urban fantasy (not surprising, since the author resides in the Bay Area, apparently). The assassin-with-a-heart is gay, but this is neither a key plot point nor mined for laughs -- he just is. When Gregor walks in on Nicolette getting ready to pretend to torture tied-up Rondeau, he says, "Please tell me this is some kind of consensual sex game." On the one hand, that's all great, homosexuality, BDSM being treated as natural and present in the fantasy worls. On the other hand, both kind of felt intentionally inserted to me, like, "look at me, I'm so liberal." That might just be my perception, I dunno.
Some bits I did enjoy:
Marla on consensual human sacrifice: "It's not my thing -- I think it's sad and creepy -- but I can't think of a good reason why people shouldn't be able to end their lives if they want to, and if they choose to do it in some magical ritual, hell, whatever. I'd rather they donate their organs to medicine, but it's not my place to say."
"Zealand spent an hour at a construction site, seeing what his mold could do. It wasn't all that disgusting, really. He felt a bit like Spider-Man, but when he gave in to the temptation to sling a rope of vinelike mold at a steel girder and swing, he nearly crashed into a pile of rebar."
"Viscarro wanted everything. He was a classic hoarder. Rumors said he was part dragon, but Marla didn't believe in dragons. He was just a greedy fuck."
Nicolette (the surprise real villain), calling out Reave, the nightmare dude who thinks he is going to rule the world: "All cheesy dark towers and nightmare armies, like a little kid would be afraid of? [...] You're going to rule the world? What kind of economic system are you going to implement? How are you going to deal with sewage? Road maintenance? Health care for your slaves? What are you going to do for food?"
Also, I learned something new from this book, which is not something you can say about a lot of beach reading paperbacks: Zugzwang (actually, I knew the concept from reading "fun math" books as a kid, but I didn't know/remember what it was called, so it counts).
I do want to go back and read book one, Blood Engines, especially as it's set in San Francisco. Also, he has a short story up online, which I read and enjoyed. (I almost think his writing style is better suited to short stories, because those don't require in-depth character exploration and heavy plot, and can run on inventiveness and snappy dialogue, which is what his writing provides.)
60. Del Rey Book of Science Fiction and Fantasy (edited by Ellen Datlow) -- this was my birthday present from R, btw.
Jason Stoddard, "Elephant Ironclad" -- I really liked the way this story was written, and the AU history world that was posited, and how it was revealed, all obliquely and gradually. The characters were pretty well done, both the Dine boys and the white adults, and it really managed to transmit a sense of wonder. I think, though, ultimately, I'm bound to have some difficulty with this story because I'm naturally predisposed to be on the side of the scientists/progress and not preserving the land. The story is not exactly prescriptive, which I appreciated, but it's not exactly unbiased either. I would've loved it without reservation if it had been, I think. As it is, I just liked it quite a bit.
Lucy Sussex, "Ardent Clouds" -- Eh. It's clearly a well-researched story about volcano chasers, but... I have to say, I think I might have enjoyed reading the research notes more than the actual story. It's not bad! It's just kind of dead, as far as I'm concerned. It does all the right things, I guess -- the research, bits of background color, there are even allusions to LotR. But none of it did anything for me. The characters are unusual (a spunky volcano-journalist, a wheelchair-bound Icelandic scientist, a Russian oligarch's volcano-hobbyist daughter), but none of them were interesting. I didn't feel any emotional resonance for them, and the story failed to sweep me up, and I even questioned the science, which I hardly ever bothered to do (but, come on, I don't care what kind of fancy prediction theory you've got, you can't predict stuff on a scale of minutes). And while the final revelation is... well, sort of chilling, it didn't do anything for me, either.
Christopher Rose, "Gather" -- I... have no idea what's actually going on in this story, but I liked it! The setting was really neat, and the slow, elided way in which it is revealed (or not!) was pretty cool. I do wish I could understand a bit more of what was going on, but it still works, somehow.
Elizabeth Bear, "Sonny Liston Takes the Fall" -- my favorite story in this collection, in spite of the fact that I care about not a single thing it deals with overtly: boxing, Las Vegas, or even the underlying social commentary/background. Because matociquala writes beautifully, in a powerful, gripping way. I didn't expect to like this story, but I really did. Or, rather, I'm not sure that I enjoyed it on the level that I seek to enjoy fantasy, but it struck me on an aesthetic level.
Nathan Ballingrud, "North American Lake Monsters" -- I liked the story, the way the fantastic was sort of outside the story yet sitting there, and grounded in sensory, olfactory reality. Hated the protagonist, but thought the emotional landscape overall was very well done.
Carol Emshwiller, "All Washed Up While Looking for a Better World" -- Meh. I liked some parts of it, like the fact that it's never clear where the protagonist ends up, or what the creatures who adopt her as a pet are like, but the story didn't do anything for me overall.
Maureen F McHugh, "Special Economics" -- this felt like the least fantastic of the stories, even though it clearly is set in the future (after a major plague of some sort in China). The social dynamics I could easily see happening in the present, though. Anyway, I enjoyed the story, even though the narrative was a good deal less beautiful or numinous than most of the other stories that preceded it, kind of utilitarian -- but not unfittingly so.
Richard Bowes, "Aka St Mark's Place" -- eh again. I enjoyed the story while reading it, or at least the first part, but the central fantastic premise didn't grab me or convince me, and the resolution of the triangle set up in the beginning felt like a letdown.
Margo Langan, "The Goosle" -- a really, really, really dark retelling of "Hansel and Gretel," with some child-molesting in for good measure. It was really well written, with interesting colloquialisms and some very memorable passages around Hanny's relationship with Grinnan.
Lavie Tidhar, "Shira" -- this was another meh. The setting (Middle East after the destruction of Jerusalem) was too transparent and frankly not interesting enough, the characters flat and uninteresting, and the meta premise kinda weak. The only thing I did like about the story were the poems of the fictional poet.
Barry N Malzberg, "The Passion of Azazel" -- funny in places and somewhat clever, but didn't really do much for me.
Laird Barron, "The Lagerstatte" -- one of my favorites in the collection, but quite dark, and it's not really clear whether something fantastic is really going on or if it's all in the protagonist's head after the trauma of losing her husband and son. Either way, really disturbing. I generally don't like open/ambiguous endings, but in this case it worked for me.
Anna Tambour, "Gladiolus Exposed" -- I liked the writing and the flow and the little concrete details, but the actual story, plot-wise, was decidedly meh.
Jeffrey Ford, "Daltharee" -- weird, really weird, but in a fun-to-read-about way.
Pat Cadigan, "Jimmy" -- really liked the writing and the protagonist, and liked the idea too. I wish there had been a bit more to the story, but I enjoyed it a lot even so.
Paul McAuley and Kim Newman, "Prisoners of the Action" -- this was slow to get going in terms of attracting my interest, but about 20-25 pages into, once it becomes clear what Dice is doing on the island, really sucked me in. I love the idea of buckyball aliens (and they would be pretty damn indestructible, yeah). The rather transparent references to Abu Ghirab annoyed me at first, because as I've said elsewhere, I hate politicized speculative fiction, but the story itself overcame that. I'm sort of ambivalent about the setting in the very near future/slightly AU present -- there are references to Amazon.com, Bruckheimer movies, and a US president who, although not named, calls the alien invaders "analiens" -- on the one hand, it feels amusingly concrete; on the other, this will be one dated story rather shortly. The plot was also sort of random, but the crazy people, fake and real, all around made it rather fun. Anyway, enjoyable story overall, though I can't actually say that I *liked* it.
So, my hands-down favorite was "Sonny Liston Takes the Fall" (most unexpectedly), and I also liked "The Lagerstatte", and to a lesser degree "The Goosle" and "Jimmy", and a few of the other stories.
61. Rick Riordan, Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson and the Olympians #4) -- I liked it better than I expected to based on the spoilery things I'd read, to be honest. There were a lot of "way too convenient" moments in the plot and other things that stretched my credulity (like Percy's victory over Antaeus -- I mean, Hercules had trouble with Antaeus; I have a hard time believing a kid could beat him that easily) -- but that's nothing new for this series, really.
I liked Annabeth less in this book than I have up until now. I understand and actually like her continued desire/hope/hubris around rescuing Luke (I wish someone could rescue Luke, too :P), but her jealousy over Percy and Rachel Elizabeth Dare is totally irrational and hypocritical. At the same time Percy should maybe kind of make up his mind about what/who he wants, you know? Annabeth kissed him, so it's not like her feelings towards him are not clear. I do like Rachel, and it's neat to have a mortal take a pivotal role, too. Is she meant to be a princess as well as really rich (from something Daedalus said), or is that just a metaphorical turn of phrase? I am curious to learn more about her. The whole interlude with Calypso, though, didn't move me at all. Oh, and speaking of shippy things, I like that Clarisse gets a boyfriend and is nice to him -- her character may have gotten softened a bit too far, even, but I like it that the antagonist/bully from book 1 is allowed some growth.
I think Nico might actually be my favorite character -- I've always had a think for powerful, dark "extraneous" boys who are well aware of their aloofness -- and I'm glad to see more ov him in this book and promise of yet more in the next one. And I loved Dionysus's appearance at the end and laying the smackdown on the satyr council and healing Chris Rodriguez before resuming being an ass to Percy. Oh, and I liked Hephaestus ("I didn't make you, did I? [...] Good. [...] Shoddy workmanship." -- and it's cute that he seems to have a thing for Athena. Speaking of Athena, I have no idea why Percy and Annabeth needed to have that conversation about how Athena doesn't bear halfblood children from physical relations but from pure intellectual love. What. Almost equally weird was the encounter with the Sphinx (who reminded me a bit of Umbridge, and possibly was also a crack at No Child Left Behind or something).
What else? I liked the way the whole thing with Daedalus was handled, the flashbacks and Quintus and the choice he makes in the end. I liked Poseidon's visit at the very end ("I rather like blowfish"). I liked the appearance of Briareus (hecatanhires have always been my favorite "creatures" in Greek mythology), and although I was disappointed by his cowardice at first, I was pleased to see him (inevitably) overcome it. The Pan subplot left me totally cold, but, eh, at least that part of it is over and done with.
So, it was fine, and fun. Not a masterpiece or anything, but in keeping with the strengths and weaknesses of the series, I would say.
62. Naomi Novik, Victory of Eagles (Temeraire #5) -- oh man, I love these books, and I was really glad to see Laurence's situation somewhat improved, though he got there through a really terrible downward arc. I continue to really, really like Laurence, even though he is such a Stark, and typically that's not at all the type that I go for. But he is just so good and honest without being at all perfect, and he finds himself in these situations I find totally heartbreaking, where an honorable man is broken on the wheel of his own honor by no-win choices, and he is brutally honest with himself when that happens, and, just, oh! His crisis of conscience brought me to the verge of tears several times, when he meets the king and regrets for the first time what he had done, and his subsequent attempt to atone for it by "Killing soldiers [...] most of whom are starving; and making them vicious, so they give us still-better excuse" and Temeraire's view of him when he's given up on himself ("in the light, he looked a little odd -- he was not quite clean-shaven, Temeraire realized, and there was some dried blood upon his jaw, which he had not taken off. His hair was tied roughly back, and grown long. But he did not seem to care for any of it") -- it's just so painful to watch a good man sink to this level for purely altruistic reasons. In case you can't tell, I really want to give Laurence a hug and keep him safe, the poor dear.
And, of course, in addition to Laurence there are all these other great characters. I continue to love Jane and her pragmatism (the scene where she suggests to Laurence that there were other, subtle ways of getting the cure to France is pretty priceless). I loved Wellesley/Wellington and his rough speech and ruthless, forceful nature, and his insistence on recognizing and taking advantage of competence whatever form it may take, and, of course, his personal military brilliance (which has always been a weak spot of mine). I like long-suffering Granby, totally overmastered by his headstrong charge. I *love* Tharkay, who is so much *himself* in a quiet but utterly uncompromising way, and his scene with Laurence, where he acts as Laurence's conscience, is both heartbreaking and uplifting. I have to echo bethbethbeth's question: why is there virtually no Laurence/Tharkay slash? I mean, look at it:
[Tharkay:] "I know of no reason why you owe it to any man to die, to no purpose."
"Honor is sufficient purpose," Laurence said, low.
"Very well," Tharkay said, "if your death would preserve it better than your life."
and Laurence thinking about Tharkay coming to Australia with him:
"Wanderlust might drive a man across the ocean or to the farthr side of the world; it would not drive him aboard a ship with one he despised, when funds would have allowed him to choose his pasage. 'Then I am glad we shall be shipmates,' Laurence said: as far as he could trust himself to express his feelings, without giving mortification to himself or any other."
For Laurence, that's practically a declaration of love! So where's the slash?
And then, of course, there are the dragons. Iskierka continues to be a hilarious and exasperating brat (and I really do wonder if that's just her nature or if Granby has spoiled her to some extent and is now reaping the rewards...), and I love her adolescent rivalry with Temeraire and also her insistence on having an egg from him. She really seems to be engaging in the "pulling pigtails" kind of courtship, and I find the gender roles reversal totally amusing. I continue to love Maximus and Lily (and her continued mistrust of Riley and Catherine's "egg"). Love lots of the new dragons, too: Requiescat, who's got to be the most amiable bully ever, and snarky, aloof Majistatis, and old Gentius, who is oddly endearing with his fond reminiscences, and especially Perscitia the engineering corps genius -- especially the way she is clearly cleverer than Temeraire, if less well educated, and the way she is totally not interested in fighting for what seem to me to be very sound reasons. If there's a character in these books that I identify with most, it's Perscitia.
Also, I have to say that I find the dragons' reasoning for being paid off for the treason ("I don't see myself how getting treasure, after you had already done treason, could make it any worse. [...] After all, they are the enemy, and if they gave you treasure, they would have less, and that would be worse for them; so if you ask me, it would really have been making up for the treason, to take it") way more reasonable than Laurence's insistence that he would never return to his parents' house since Napoleon left it unmolested in gratitude. Also also, let me just say that the idea of unharnessed dragons fighting under red flags amuses me to no end, bunch of revolutionaries that they are. Oh, and, I keep forgetting to say, but I liked the way the cause of dragon equality was advanced during the war -- it definitely seemed more believable than the peaceful lobbying Temeraire and Laurence were going for originally.
What else? I like the way Laurence's post-treason treatment in society was handled, the snubbing he gets from men who'd been previously "good guys", and the way his brother is utterly convinced Laurence had run away when he shows up at the estate, and Temeraire's slow realization of the full extent of what Laurence's punishment actually means. I like Temeraire's inner thoughts when he is alone, without Laurence, more than when they're Laurence-focused (which they usually are), so I especially enjoyed his POV in the first part of the book.
I liked the description of battles, which generally bore me, but not in these books (although the climactic battle at the end did drag on a bit). The tsunami Lien called up was way cool. I guess the fact that Napoleon and Lien got away means it's possible Temeraire and Laurence will be coming back to England at some point, but I am curious to see what awaits them in Australia, too. Oh, and I wonder if he shall encounter Edith again, and if anything more will come of that, now that she is widowed.
In other words, can't wait for book 6! (but I can't find any info on when that's coming out... :( )
I am currently finishing up A Civil Campaign and in parallel have also started Uglies. And then there's GGK's The Darkest Road, which I've been neglecting for all this other stuff.
What I'm looking for -- what I've been looking for for years it feels like -- is good a supernatural procedural. I love the forensics/procedural mysteries (the early Kay Scarpetta books, before Cornwell entirely forgot how to write, the Alex Delaware books that are heavy on the police/psychologist work and lighter on the heroics), and I love fantasy, naturally, and you'd think the two would work together quite well. And, you know, they do -- in the Discworld Watch books. But, I dunno, maybe I was just spoiled by reading it the way Pratchett wrote it first, everything else in the crossover genre I've picked up (Dragon Precinct and the Cast in Shadow books from the second-world fantasy side, this series from the urban fantasy one) is just... not very good.
I must say, I still enjoyed reading this book. I don't think it's a good book, but it's a quick, sufficiently exciting read, and there are some rather neat bits in it. The worldbuilding is quite good -- there's the position of Chief Sorcerer guarding an ordinary modern-world city, the other kinds of magical denizens (lots and lots of variety), the idea of a forensic sorcerer (which I absolutely loved! -- that's precisely the kind of thing I want to see in this supernatural procedural I keep trying to find), neat artefacts, different types of magic curiously realized, and a solid grounding in the real world. All that works very well.
The problem comes from two sources: the characters, and the plot. The plot is, let's be honest, not terribly believable. I liked the final twist (Nicolette's betrayal of Gregar and its revelation), but the ones before that were really kind of a stretch. Joshua being a bad guy -- OK, I'm relieved, 'cos he would've been too good to be true otherwise. But it really *doesn't* make sense that he wouldn't have killed Marla when he had the chance. Or that Gregor would not have told Zealand about Joshua being his agent to make sure Zealand didn't kill him, too. That's just stupid. And Ted finding Terry Reeves as a "surprise" for Marla. Yeah, the phone calls he didn't tell Marla about are supposed to be a red herring to make Marla (and us) suspect that he, and not Joshua is the traitor, but a) it's really quite obviously done, and b) his actual motivation/behavior is not terribly believable. And I'm not sure I bought the whole idea of "dream contagion", which was central to the book. And Genevieve's victory and very speedy recovery feel very deus ex machina and way too easy. So, um, yeah... Most of the plot kinda didn't work for me, or worked only at a stretch, which made it a good deal harder to enjoy the book.
The other problem is characters. Or, well, character. There were some supporting folks I actually liked -- Zealand was interesting (and I have a soft spot for assassins who are amoral but capable of their own brand of heroism, *cough*Kincaid*cough*Jayne*cough*), even though the mold thing got rather surreal, and I liked Ted quite a lot -- but of course they both died. I rather liked Gregor as a reluctant villain -- self-preservation is a villainous motivation I find much easier to understand than ambition, and it's also fairly rare. Of course, he's dead, too. I really like Nicolette -- she's the surprise main villain, but she makes such a likeable sidekick, really sort of charming, in a kid sister way. And I like the chaotic crap in her hair! I hope she continues to be cool. I think I even sort of like Rondeau, even though there's precious little revealed of his actual character -- he is a colorful type, but I'm not sure we've seen any of the person (or entity -- and that's a nice touch, too) beneath that.
The main problem is Marla, who is the protagonist and the main POV character. She is a checklist of tough girl detective traits -- stubborn, rude, violent, a loner, a slob, and has moments of highly questionable morality. This doesn't make her unlikeable to me -- and I actually kind of like the pride she takes in being this universally hated bitch on wheels -- but there is no "there" there. There is not apparent depth to the character at all -- no hobbies, no personality quirks, nothing to give her any more dimension that the archetype for which she sprung. And that's really disappointing. There is one touching scene, where she brings water to the dying chimera, and that does hint at something underneath the archetype, but it's so fleeting that it's really hard to tell what.
Also, I don't really know how I feel about it, but it's sort of a very liberal urban fantasy (not surprising, since the author resides in the Bay Area, apparently). The assassin-with-a-heart is gay, but this is neither a key plot point nor mined for laughs -- he just is. When Gregor walks in on Nicolette getting ready to pretend to torture tied-up Rondeau, he says, "Please tell me this is some kind of consensual sex game." On the one hand, that's all great, homosexuality, BDSM being treated as natural and present in the fantasy worls. On the other hand, both kind of felt intentionally inserted to me, like, "look at me, I'm so liberal." That might just be my perception, I dunno.
Some bits I did enjoy:
Marla on consensual human sacrifice: "It's not my thing -- I think it's sad and creepy -- but I can't think of a good reason why people shouldn't be able to end their lives if they want to, and if they choose to do it in some magical ritual, hell, whatever. I'd rather they donate their organs to medicine, but it's not my place to say."
"Zealand spent an hour at a construction site, seeing what his mold could do. It wasn't all that disgusting, really. He felt a bit like Spider-Man, but when he gave in to the temptation to sling a rope of vinelike mold at a steel girder and swing, he nearly crashed into a pile of rebar."
"Viscarro wanted everything. He was a classic hoarder. Rumors said he was part dragon, but Marla didn't believe in dragons. He was just a greedy fuck."
Nicolette (the surprise real villain), calling out Reave, the nightmare dude who thinks he is going to rule the world: "All cheesy dark towers and nightmare armies, like a little kid would be afraid of? [...] You're going to rule the world? What kind of economic system are you going to implement? How are you going to deal with sewage? Road maintenance? Health care for your slaves? What are you going to do for food?"
Also, I learned something new from this book, which is not something you can say about a lot of beach reading paperbacks: Zugzwang (actually, I knew the concept from reading "fun math" books as a kid, but I didn't know/remember what it was called, so it counts).
I do want to go back and read book one, Blood Engines, especially as it's set in San Francisco. Also, he has a short story up online, which I read and enjoyed. (I almost think his writing style is better suited to short stories, because those don't require in-depth character exploration and heavy plot, and can run on inventiveness and snappy dialogue, which is what his writing provides.)
60. Del Rey Book of Science Fiction and Fantasy (edited by Ellen Datlow) -- this was my birthday present from R, btw.
Jason Stoddard, "Elephant Ironclad" -- I really liked the way this story was written, and the AU history world that was posited, and how it was revealed, all obliquely and gradually. The characters were pretty well done, both the Dine boys and the white adults, and it really managed to transmit a sense of wonder. I think, though, ultimately, I'm bound to have some difficulty with this story because I'm naturally predisposed to be on the side of the scientists/progress and not preserving the land. The story is not exactly prescriptive, which I appreciated, but it's not exactly unbiased either. I would've loved it without reservation if it had been, I think. As it is, I just liked it quite a bit.
Lucy Sussex, "Ardent Clouds" -- Eh. It's clearly a well-researched story about volcano chasers, but... I have to say, I think I might have enjoyed reading the research notes more than the actual story. It's not bad! It's just kind of dead, as far as I'm concerned. It does all the right things, I guess -- the research, bits of background color, there are even allusions to LotR. But none of it did anything for me. The characters are unusual (a spunky volcano-journalist, a wheelchair-bound Icelandic scientist, a Russian oligarch's volcano-hobbyist daughter), but none of them were interesting. I didn't feel any emotional resonance for them, and the story failed to sweep me up, and I even questioned the science, which I hardly ever bothered to do (but, come on, I don't care what kind of fancy prediction theory you've got, you can't predict stuff on a scale of minutes). And while the final revelation is... well, sort of chilling, it didn't do anything for me, either.
Christopher Rose, "Gather" -- I... have no idea what's actually going on in this story, but I liked it! The setting was really neat, and the slow, elided way in which it is revealed (or not!) was pretty cool. I do wish I could understand a bit more of what was going on, but it still works, somehow.
Elizabeth Bear, "Sonny Liston Takes the Fall" -- my favorite story in this collection, in spite of the fact that I care about not a single thing it deals with overtly: boxing, Las Vegas, or even the underlying social commentary/background. Because matociquala writes beautifully, in a powerful, gripping way. I didn't expect to like this story, but I really did. Or, rather, I'm not sure that I enjoyed it on the level that I seek to enjoy fantasy, but it struck me on an aesthetic level.
Nathan Ballingrud, "North American Lake Monsters" -- I liked the story, the way the fantastic was sort of outside the story yet sitting there, and grounded in sensory, olfactory reality. Hated the protagonist, but thought the emotional landscape overall was very well done.
Carol Emshwiller, "All Washed Up While Looking for a Better World" -- Meh. I liked some parts of it, like the fact that it's never clear where the protagonist ends up, or what the creatures who adopt her as a pet are like, but the story didn't do anything for me overall.
Maureen F McHugh, "Special Economics" -- this felt like the least fantastic of the stories, even though it clearly is set in the future (after a major plague of some sort in China). The social dynamics I could easily see happening in the present, though. Anyway, I enjoyed the story, even though the narrative was a good deal less beautiful or numinous than most of the other stories that preceded it, kind of utilitarian -- but not unfittingly so.
Richard Bowes, "Aka St Mark's Place" -- eh again. I enjoyed the story while reading it, or at least the first part, but the central fantastic premise didn't grab me or convince me, and the resolution of the triangle set up in the beginning felt like a letdown.
Margo Langan, "The Goosle" -- a really, really, really dark retelling of "Hansel and Gretel," with some child-molesting in for good measure. It was really well written, with interesting colloquialisms and some very memorable passages around Hanny's relationship with Grinnan.
Lavie Tidhar, "Shira" -- this was another meh. The setting (Middle East after the destruction of Jerusalem) was too transparent and frankly not interesting enough, the characters flat and uninteresting, and the meta premise kinda weak. The only thing I did like about the story were the poems of the fictional poet.
Barry N Malzberg, "The Passion of Azazel" -- funny in places and somewhat clever, but didn't really do much for me.
Laird Barron, "The Lagerstatte" -- one of my favorites in the collection, but quite dark, and it's not really clear whether something fantastic is really going on or if it's all in the protagonist's head after the trauma of losing her husband and son. Either way, really disturbing. I generally don't like open/ambiguous endings, but in this case it worked for me.
Anna Tambour, "Gladiolus Exposed" -- I liked the writing and the flow and the little concrete details, but the actual story, plot-wise, was decidedly meh.
Jeffrey Ford, "Daltharee" -- weird, really weird, but in a fun-to-read-about way.
Pat Cadigan, "Jimmy" -- really liked the writing and the protagonist, and liked the idea too. I wish there had been a bit more to the story, but I enjoyed it a lot even so.
Paul McAuley and Kim Newman, "Prisoners of the Action" -- this was slow to get going in terms of attracting my interest, but about 20-25 pages into, once it becomes clear what Dice is doing on the island, really sucked me in. I love the idea of buckyball aliens (and they would be pretty damn indestructible, yeah). The rather transparent references to Abu Ghirab annoyed me at first, because as I've said elsewhere, I hate politicized speculative fiction, but the story itself overcame that. I'm sort of ambivalent about the setting in the very near future/slightly AU present -- there are references to Amazon.com, Bruckheimer movies, and a US president who, although not named, calls the alien invaders "analiens" -- on the one hand, it feels amusingly concrete; on the other, this will be one dated story rather shortly. The plot was also sort of random, but the crazy people, fake and real, all around made it rather fun. Anyway, enjoyable story overall, though I can't actually say that I *liked* it.
So, my hands-down favorite was "Sonny Liston Takes the Fall" (most unexpectedly), and I also liked "The Lagerstatte", and to a lesser degree "The Goosle" and "Jimmy", and a few of the other stories.
61. Rick Riordan, Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson and the Olympians #4) -- I liked it better than I expected to based on the spoilery things I'd read, to be honest. There were a lot of "way too convenient" moments in the plot and other things that stretched my credulity (like Percy's victory over Antaeus -- I mean, Hercules had trouble with Antaeus; I have a hard time believing a kid could beat him that easily) -- but that's nothing new for this series, really.
I liked Annabeth less in this book than I have up until now. I understand and actually like her continued desire/hope/hubris around rescuing Luke (I wish someone could rescue Luke, too :P), but her jealousy over Percy and Rachel Elizabeth Dare is totally irrational and hypocritical. At the same time Percy should maybe kind of make up his mind about what/who he wants, you know? Annabeth kissed him, so it's not like her feelings towards him are not clear. I do like Rachel, and it's neat to have a mortal take a pivotal role, too. Is she meant to be a princess as well as really rich (from something Daedalus said), or is that just a metaphorical turn of phrase? I am curious to learn more about her. The whole interlude with Calypso, though, didn't move me at all. Oh, and speaking of shippy things, I like that Clarisse gets a boyfriend and is nice to him -- her character may have gotten softened a bit too far, even, but I like it that the antagonist/bully from book 1 is allowed some growth.
I think Nico might actually be my favorite character -- I've always had a think for powerful, dark "extraneous" boys who are well aware of their aloofness -- and I'm glad to see more ov him in this book and promise of yet more in the next one. And I loved Dionysus's appearance at the end and laying the smackdown on the satyr council and healing Chris Rodriguez before resuming being an ass to Percy. Oh, and I liked Hephaestus ("I didn't make you, did I? [...] Good. [...] Shoddy workmanship." -- and it's cute that he seems to have a thing for Athena. Speaking of Athena, I have no idea why Percy and Annabeth needed to have that conversation about how Athena doesn't bear halfblood children from physical relations but from pure intellectual love. What. Almost equally weird was the encounter with the Sphinx (who reminded me a bit of Umbridge, and possibly was also a crack at No Child Left Behind or something).
What else? I liked the way the whole thing with Daedalus was handled, the flashbacks and Quintus and the choice he makes in the end. I liked Poseidon's visit at the very end ("I rather like blowfish"). I liked the appearance of Briareus (hecatanhires have always been my favorite "creatures" in Greek mythology), and although I was disappointed by his cowardice at first, I was pleased to see him (inevitably) overcome it. The Pan subplot left me totally cold, but, eh, at least that part of it is over and done with.
So, it was fine, and fun. Not a masterpiece or anything, but in keeping with the strengths and weaknesses of the series, I would say.
62. Naomi Novik, Victory of Eagles (Temeraire #5) -- oh man, I love these books, and I was really glad to see Laurence's situation somewhat improved, though he got there through a really terrible downward arc. I continue to really, really like Laurence, even though he is such a Stark, and typically that's not at all the type that I go for. But he is just so good and honest without being at all perfect, and he finds himself in these situations I find totally heartbreaking, where an honorable man is broken on the wheel of his own honor by no-win choices, and he is brutally honest with himself when that happens, and, just, oh! His crisis of conscience brought me to the verge of tears several times, when he meets the king and regrets for the first time what he had done, and his subsequent attempt to atone for it by "Killing soldiers [...] most of whom are starving; and making them vicious, so they give us still-better excuse" and Temeraire's view of him when he's given up on himself ("in the light, he looked a little odd -- he was not quite clean-shaven, Temeraire realized, and there was some dried blood upon his jaw, which he had not taken off. His hair was tied roughly back, and grown long. But he did not seem to care for any of it") -- it's just so painful to watch a good man sink to this level for purely altruistic reasons. In case you can't tell, I really want to give Laurence a hug and keep him safe, the poor dear.
And, of course, in addition to Laurence there are all these other great characters. I continue to love Jane and her pragmatism (the scene where she suggests to Laurence that there were other, subtle ways of getting the cure to France is pretty priceless). I loved Wellesley/Wellington and his rough speech and ruthless, forceful nature, and his insistence on recognizing and taking advantage of competence whatever form it may take, and, of course, his personal military brilliance (which has always been a weak spot of mine). I like long-suffering Granby, totally overmastered by his headstrong charge. I *love* Tharkay, who is so much *himself* in a quiet but utterly uncompromising way, and his scene with Laurence, where he acts as Laurence's conscience, is both heartbreaking and uplifting. I have to echo bethbethbeth's question: why is there virtually no Laurence/Tharkay slash? I mean, look at it:
[Tharkay:] "I know of no reason why you owe it to any man to die, to no purpose."
"Honor is sufficient purpose," Laurence said, low.
"Very well," Tharkay said, "if your death would preserve it better than your life."
and Laurence thinking about Tharkay coming to Australia with him:
"Wanderlust might drive a man across the ocean or to the farthr side of the world; it would not drive him aboard a ship with one he despised, when funds would have allowed him to choose his pasage. 'Then I am glad we shall be shipmates,' Laurence said: as far as he could trust himself to express his feelings, without giving mortification to himself or any other."
For Laurence, that's practically a declaration of love! So where's the slash?
And then, of course, there are the dragons. Iskierka continues to be a hilarious and exasperating brat (and I really do wonder if that's just her nature or if Granby has spoiled her to some extent and is now reaping the rewards...), and I love her adolescent rivalry with Temeraire and also her insistence on having an egg from him. She really seems to be engaging in the "pulling pigtails" kind of courtship, and I find the gender roles reversal totally amusing. I continue to love Maximus and Lily (and her continued mistrust of Riley and Catherine's "egg"). Love lots of the new dragons, too: Requiescat, who's got to be the most amiable bully ever, and snarky, aloof Majistatis, and old Gentius, who is oddly endearing with his fond reminiscences, and especially Perscitia the engineering corps genius -- especially the way she is clearly cleverer than Temeraire, if less well educated, and the way she is totally not interested in fighting for what seem to me to be very sound reasons. If there's a character in these books that I identify with most, it's Perscitia.
Also, I have to say that I find the dragons' reasoning for being paid off for the treason ("I don't see myself how getting treasure, after you had already done treason, could make it any worse. [...] After all, they are the enemy, and if they gave you treasure, they would have less, and that would be worse for them; so if you ask me, it would really have been making up for the treason, to take it") way more reasonable than Laurence's insistence that he would never return to his parents' house since Napoleon left it unmolested in gratitude. Also also, let me just say that the idea of unharnessed dragons fighting under red flags amuses me to no end, bunch of revolutionaries that they are. Oh, and, I keep forgetting to say, but I liked the way the cause of dragon equality was advanced during the war -- it definitely seemed more believable than the peaceful lobbying Temeraire and Laurence were going for originally.
What else? I like the way Laurence's post-treason treatment in society was handled, the snubbing he gets from men who'd been previously "good guys", and the way his brother is utterly convinced Laurence had run away when he shows up at the estate, and Temeraire's slow realization of the full extent of what Laurence's punishment actually means. I like Temeraire's inner thoughts when he is alone, without Laurence, more than when they're Laurence-focused (which they usually are), so I especially enjoyed his POV in the first part of the book.
I liked the description of battles, which generally bore me, but not in these books (although the climactic battle at the end did drag on a bit). The tsunami Lien called up was way cool. I guess the fact that Napoleon and Lien got away means it's possible Temeraire and Laurence will be coming back to England at some point, but I am curious to see what awaits them in Australia, too. Oh, and I wonder if he shall encounter Edith again, and if anything more will come of that, now that she is widowed.
In other words, can't wait for book 6! (but I can't find any info on when that's coming out... :( )
I am currently finishing up A Civil Campaign and in parallel have also started Uglies. And then there's GGK's The Darkest Road, which I've been neglecting for all this other stuff.