Reading Roundup
21. John Green and David Levithan, Will Grayson, Will Grayson -- I read this book in under 24 hours (this was the book I checked out on a whim when I needed something to read while waiting for L's school concert to start), and it was exactly what I needed at the time, apparently -- some contemporary YA, catchy and poignant. Spoilers! I don't have a ton to say about it in retrospect. It was a fast read. I liked Grayson, as a character and a narrator, and thought the other characters were a bit hard on him as a person, actually. I really liked his friendship with Tiny, who was a really interesting character, quite unlike anyone else I've met in a book, I'm pretty sure -- I was pleased to see that TV Tropes has him filed under Manic Pixie Dream Girl Guy, which is what I went over there to check. I liked Jane, and the way Will #1 thinks about her, but the most poignant Will #1 moments for me were the little scenes with his father. The lowercase will grayson took a good deal longer to grow on me, but eventually I warmed up to him in his infatuation with "Isaac" and later befuddlement by Tiny and growing friendship with Gideon (whom I also really liked). But, actually, I think his most interesting (if painful) relationship was with Maura, and I was glad that was addressed in some way. It is a fun book, but it definitely feels like an Issue book, too -- but in a way that's not distracting or annoying, because it is a fun, moving story without being manipulative or anything of the sort. And I think it helps that is isn't a Single Issue book at all. Besides Tiny Cooper's wonderful flamingness and will #2's coming out story, there's also will #2 living with depression (I found his thoughts on Tiny using "mental health day" as a synonym for playing hooky especially memorable), and the tension between the rich and poor characters, and Tiny talking about his weight -- it felt organic and not like checking the various boxes. So, yeah, good book, glad I read it. Every once in a while it's good to to read something other than fantasy, and if it has likeable characters and nothing I disagree with philosophically, that's even nicer.
22. Sergey Lukyanenko, Novyj Dozor (Watch #5) -- I really, really like this one. I'm not sure at this point whether I would say this one of Twilight Watch (#3) is my favorite, but it definitely edges out the others. Spoilers frome here!
The first story had adequate amounts of Semyon in it, which was welcome (though for a while there, I was terrified the Tiger was going to kill him), and the next two saw the return of Arina, who might actually have edged out Semyon as my favorite. She feels like a very Russian version of Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg smushed into one -- an incredibly powerful but oddly amiable witch who walks that line between Light and Dark, although she is much more fallible than Pratchett's witches. And her oath was just simply BAD. ASS. Oh, and of course I was amused that she loved the LotR movies and could sleep after watching "The Blair Witch Project". I definitely hope that Arina is not out of commission for long, despite being shut up in the Sarcophagus of Time (or whatever). This series is much, much more fun with her in it. And I would LOVE to see her and Semyon meet at some point.
The other reason, I think, is that all three stories solidly hung together, and the revelations were startling but also felt more logical than a lot of the revelations in the other Watch books -- the symbiosis with Twilight makes sense, and Twilight protecting itself with the Tiger makes sense, too, or more sense than the Mirror stuff, anyway. Although I'm not sure it's adequately explained why the plane in first story did not crash, or the Tiger's behaviour with humans vs Others. And in the prologue of the second story, there were some interesting musings and revelations about the counterbalance of Light and Dark Watches -- I didn't realize that it's *always* true that the Dark Others are more numerous and the Light Others are more powerful. Oh, and the little detail about Others inventing certain spells only after humans described them in fantasy, like the "bag of holding" Svetlana uses, or, presumably the spell "Bilbo", which sounds like what you get when using the Ring. Plot-wise, the first story was the most gripping, with the tens build-up to the coming of the Tiger, and the cliffhanger of the maybe-recorded prophecy on the toy telephone, and the discussion about whether it was worth it or necessary to fight the Tiger to but Kesha some time (though, honestly, I'm with Las mostly, who is a Chaotic Neutral character if ever there was one). Oh, and while I usually find the lyrics insertions distracting, I actually liked these songs, so that was part of my enjoyment as well.
Geser was great as usual, his Yendi self, but it was also neat to see Zavulon actually knowing more than Geser for once, though subsequent stories explained why (and, there, I did quite like Zavulon standing up to the Tiger for little Erasmus, even if temporarily). It was fun meeting Erasmus and getting the explanation for why he was able to prophesy into oak tree. Nadya continues to be adorable, in that well-brought-up precocious kid way (Sveta and Anton are doing a good job with her. Oh, also, I think this is the first book in which the Nadya = nadezhda = hope thing is actually acknowledged, when Anton interprets Geser using the common noun literally to mean that he should call over his daughter. And I really liked Zhermenson the retired battle mage and his golem and his assumption that Anton was Jewish and joking with Geser. I sort of forgot about Svetlana's decision to stop using magic, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I guess how I feel about it is that I've never cared about Svetlana... not that I ship Anton/Arina, but I find their interaction far, far more interesting, both in this book and in general.
I enjoyed all the Blake alusions and quotes, though I'm skeptical of Geser's supposition that, in Russia, the Russian translation would trump the original, and was amused by Anton's lack of education about Blake. Pop culture allusions are always a large part of the fun with these books. I loved the revelation that Geser watches House MD (and even quotes from it) and reads Harry Potter, and Anton reads Pratchett to unwind (though I wonder if his choice of Rincewind/Wizards over the Watch books is significant), and the revelation that the Harry Potter books were commission by the Others. Oh, and a Strugatski reference, of course, in "shukhart" as slang for a Light Other who goes off the rails and decides to do good indiscriminantly and contrary to the agreement of the Watches. Also, not pop culture, but I was amused by Anton's observation that all the waitresses in London are Russian, which is something we noticed as well.
23. Justine Larbalestier, How to Ditch Your Fairy -- I picked this out for me, but L actually ended up reading it first, because she saw it lying around, started it, and got hooked (I thought she might be put off by the slightly made up language, but while she boggled at it a little bit and found the slang funny, it didn't seem to bother her at all, which is good to know). She also enjoyed it more than I did, which is fine. But the really neat thing is that she figured out what Steffi's fairy was before either I or Charlie did (before it even occurred to me to wonder what his fairy was, to be honest), which was really cool -- she's very good at this sort of thing, so it's not a surprise, but always nice to see the confirmation.
As for the actual book, it was cute? The fairy concept is neat, and, indeed, more lasting than anything I remember of the plot. (We've decided that L has a finding things fairy, and I'm not sure what kind I have, but I'd want either an always-being-on-time fairy or a book rec / fandom baba (as lunasariel calls it) fairy who would allow me to make perfect recommendations to people, especially on books.) But, yeah, back to the actual book. I liked the Worldbuilding of New Avalon, with the unreliable narrator slow build (although nothing like the masterpiece of Liar, of course) -- the way Charlie is a huge fan of her city and her school, but you get to see an outsider's perspective of them (and form your own) and things are not nearly so rosy, but she doesn't actually change her mind, except a little. I liked Charlie well enough, and her determination to get rid of her sucky fairy. I liked the way her friendship with Fiorenze developed (but I felt like Fiorenze's "all guys like me" fairy not having an effect on males not close to her in age was a bit of a cop-out, but probably for the better -- it got fairly skeevy even with the restriction in place, though handled well enough.) And that's about it, really.
24. Lynn Flewelling, Shadows Return
25. Lynn Flewelling, The White Road -- I actually don't have a whole lot to say about these two. Spoilers! I would've probably been surprised by the oddly slavefic feel of the first one if I hadn't been forewarned, but as it was, it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. In fact, I kinda have to say I found Shadows Return a faster, more interesting read than The White Road. Probably because Ilar was my favorite thing about book 4, and in book 5 he is so broken and pathetic instead of the interesting, complicated character he is in book 4. Still, these felt weaker than Traitor's Moon, not as complex or polished.
Things I liked: Ilar/Khenir in book 4, as mentioned, and the conflicted feelings he and Seregil elicit in each other; Yhakobin the alchemist/"kind" slavemaster (and the way Khenir genuinely seems loyal to him, while working for his own ends of course); getting to see Micum in action again; more of Prince Korathan (whose past with Seregil I wouldn't mind seeing more of); Rieser of the Hazadrielfaie, who is my sort of stoic warrior.
Things I didn't like as much as I was hoping to: what little there was of Thero. I'm increasingly convinced that I liked book 1's stick-up-his-ass Thero more, as a character, than the new, supposedly improved Thero. And the pining for Klia was meh.
Things I didn't DISlike as much as I was expecting to: book 4 in general and the slavery in particular, which was not as gratuitous as I'd been afraid it would be. Sebrahn (with the caveats below). I was relieved that you weren't supposed to accept him as a cuddly substitute baby that you'd be rooting for Alec to keep. He was creepy and dangerous and discomfitted everyone except Alec. I could understand Alec's bond to him, given what Alec had been through and what had happened with the first rekharo, and the real magical connection between them, as well as Alec's yearning for a child, but I thought it was pretty clear this was not a sustainable or even desirable situation, so I didn't feel like I was supposed to find the "kid" cute (though I could've done with fewer mentions of his "cold little hands" and whispery attempts to speak). And I was glad that Sebrahn was shipped off with the Hazadrielfaie in the end. But it wasn't as bad as I'd been expecting.
Things I did dislike: Sebrahn's special deus ex machina powers. There were limitations and dangers, so it was not as bad as it could have been, but I really do draw the line at being able to kill multiple people at a distnace with a song and bringing people back from the dead. Also, elements of Alec and Seregil's relationship that I thought were steps back, like Alec freaking out about Seregil bringing up that he could have a baby with some random girl (um, you can? it's not an automatic betrayal of the relationship), and Alec being jealous of Ilar to the degree he is, and Seregil being jealous of Sebrahn. Like, I understand they've been through some pretty harsh times, and I'm willing to cut them some slack, but a lot of the relationship drama felt artificial to me, when I felt like there was no need for additional drama at all.
Anyway, these two were reasonably entertaining, but I'm coming to the conclusion that this will never be a series I love, merely one I follow. But that's good enough, since I have people to talk about these books with.
26. Melina Marchetta, Finnikin of the Rock -- Some time ago I got a top 5 meme question for "tropes I hate when played straight" an Return of the King was on that list. I've not seen too many intentional deconstructions of it (Abercrombie's The First Law, on top of deconstructing everything else, maybe), so this book, which does that to a very interesting degree, interested me because of that. I was not disappointed. I can't say I loved it, because it's a good bit darker than I prefer my escapist reading, and while I admire the fact that there are no easy answers or magical healing... well, catharsis is actually a very nice feeling, and while there is hope and humour in this book, it's still a fairly tough read. But I'm very glad I read it, and I have things to say about it, and want to read what other people have to say about it, so that's a good thing.
MAJOR SPOILERS FROM HERE As I was reading this book, I kept mentally comparing various aspects of it with Tigana, which, for those joining our show already in progress, is a book that I hated passionately despite enjoying GGK's other work. Finnikin gets right, or at least interesting, most of the things that bugged me about Tigana. First of all, of course, Return of the King is a trope that Evanjalin/Isaboe intentionally invokes, using Balthazar's name and the hope/rumour that he is alive to gather and rally the scattered remains of the Lumatere-in-diaspora. And, yes, there is a surviving heir of the royal line, but one of the things I liked very much is the way it's made clear that the reason Isaboe is the right queen is not because she's a descendent of the royal line, but because she is ruthless and indomitable and brilliant, someone who inspires loyalty and admiration (as we can see with Froi), not merely someone of the right blood. I especially liked the Monts' opinion that what makes Isaboe a good queen is all the stuff she inherited from her commoner mother and not her overly soft father the king-of-divine origin. And my very favorite thing about it is that Isaboe's own determination is to help get the people of Lumatere to a place where they don't fall apart because something happens to their beloved royal family, don't need a Return of the King. So, yeah, that was some satisfying subversion.
Some other things I liked in contrast to Tigana were shown with Froi, and so I'm looking forward to the sequel, Froi of the Exiles, which I hope deals more with that. One of the things that bugged me with Tigana was the way every person of Tigana descent raised in the diaspora felt some kind of mystical bond to the king-in-exile and the land and blah blah blah, which struck me as way too unrealistic and cheesy even for fantasy. I liked the way Finnikin handled this much better -- Froi, who grew up abandoned and feral, does not feel any kinship to Lumaterans or love for the land even when he enters it. He feels no loyalty to Isaboe-the-queen or her retainers, although his loyalty to Evanjalin, the girl he traveled with, is fierce enough that he is willing to sacrifice his life for her (and maybe Finnikin, too, on the same personal basis). I'm definitely curious to see Froi's development from here, but it seems a much more reasonable reaction to the revelation that you are from a lost kingdom under a magical curse, you know?
Similarly, I liked the way the alternative to reclaiming the lost kingdom kept getting brought up -- Finnikin's preference for finding a piece of land to settle down, a second Lumatere. It's not the option taken in the end, of course, but I never felt like it was an option dismissed, either. The reason opening the way back into Lumatere is the right thing to do is that people are suffering there, and loved ones were separated by a magical curse, not because life outside your ~historical homeland~ is impossible. And there is at least the one camp of exiles who chooses to stay (because of guilt, but still), and I was glad that this was also something that was dealt with. (If it had been a longer exile than 10 years, I would have liked to see Lumaterans-in-exile who had found their niche and chose to stay, or who had started families with people of other kingdoms, that sort of thing, but the traumatic nature of the sundering and the short time that passed until the present day gets a pass on this from me.) I did think the misery of the exile camps was piled on a bit strong, but it's all adequately justified -- the massacre in Sarnak is motivated by Sarnak suffering economically from the closure of Lumatere, and if Lumaterans relied of Forest Dweller healers to maintain a healthy population, exposure of their people to foreign germs en masse without those healers and in the condition of the camps could certainly lead to fevers, so it all makes sense.
And, as I mentioned, while I wouldn't have minded a lighter ending, for escapism's sake, I actually really admired the fact that just riding into the lost kingdom and toppling the corrupt impostor king doesn't erase the ten years of loss and suffering. That the fields and homes are burned and need to be replanted and rebuilt. That Finnikin completes his census of the dead. That family members may have trouble recognizing each other and lovers don't just fall into each other's arms. That there's mistrust and political considerations and the lofty ideals of truth and justice may not be as simple as that.
So, anyway, as a story of a diaspora and the tribulations and options of one, and the subversion of the Return of the King tropes, I liked this book a lot. As a fantasy novel it was not bad at all. The simplicity of the place names in Lumatere (Flatlands, Monts, River, Rock, etc.) actually worked for me here unlike in Graceling because it was offset by placenames that weren't like that, and the sense of different languages and cultures and history. The magic was nebulous but not bad -- not a draw, but not a turn-off, either.
Plot-wise, eh, I figured out "Evanjalin"'s real identity before p.20 (basically, as soon as it was mentioned that the queen of Lumatere had been a Mont), and it became increasingly clear that this was the case. I did keep wondering how Finnikin could be missing it still, given that he'd grown up with Isaboe (who was 7 or 8 during the unspeakable, and, you know, people tend to look recognizably themselves by that age), but I guess between Evanjalin's shorn hair and years of tough living (vs a pampered princess), Finnikin believing Isaboe was dead (and probably not wanting to think about her too much since he seemed to be still sort of blaming himself because of the prophecy, and also probably realizing subconsciously that if Isaboe survived, his beloved Balthazar did not). My suspension of disbelief was stretched, but not to breaking, and I felt better when it became clear that Sir Topher knew exactly who Evanjalin was, and also Lady Celie. And by the time Lucian figured it out in like 20 seconds of acquaintance, it was kind of funny.
I typically start out talking about characters, but with this one I only just got around to that. Evanjalin/Isaboe is one of those characters I admire and respect and am glad they exist, but I don't love her, and I'm not even sure I like her very much. She is amazing, and very much what a queen reclaiming her kingdom should be, and I'm looking forward to seeing more of her in the sequels, but there is too much trauma and too much darkness for me to love her as a character. Finnikin is a nice kid, but I found him fairly bland (besides his hilarious obliviousness), but that's typical for me and protagonists, so I was glad the story was at least as focused on Evanjalin. I also can't really care about the relationship between them, because I didn't feel much chemistry there, and also, it felt less interesting than it could have been, given that they grew up together. I find Evanjalin's relationship with Froi much, much more interesting (and at some point when I was thinking about it, parallels to Cordelia and Bothari -- albeit very approximate ones -- occurred to me) -- both consumate survivors who understand that about each other far better than the other characters can, and Finnikin's relationship with his father much more touching (and his banter with Lucian much more 'shippy, tbh). Of course I liked Travanion, I always like his type. And I liked Sir Topher and Lady Abie the former fishmonger's daughter, and found Tesadora intriguing, but Lady Beatriss just felt like a saintly construct to me, though I am curious to see whether her and Trevanion's relationship can be rebuilt, and how.
A couple of quotes, both from Evanjalin, who had all the best lines: "It's not heroics we need, Finnikin. It's courage." and "There are worse things than a lie, and there are better things than the truth."
27. Terry Pratchett, Dodger -- It was an interesting read, but mostly on a meta level, I have to say. Like, I was a bit skeptical going into Nation but ended up loving it a lot -- I would list it in my top 10 favorite Pratchett books, and I'd have to think about whether or not it squeaks into the top 5 (tough call between it and Hat Full of Sky). There are no such considerations with Dodger -- it was fun, but not "good PTerry" levels of fun. In fact, I found it dragging a bit about 2/3 through and put it down to read another book (Finnikin, above) and do things on the computer instead, which I think has only happened to me with The Last Continent. And, yes, enjoyable, but what I'm left thinking about is the way in which it reminds me of other books, rather than on its own merits, which is also not a thing I'm used to with PTerry.
First of all, there's Dickens as a character, which felt very interesting after I kept thinking of how Pratchett does Dickens better while reading A Tale of Two Cities. I don't know much about Dickens the man, so I didn't have a feel for how much verisimilitude PTerry's portrayal of him as a character had, but I didn't have any particular thoughts on him, either. I actually had the slightly uncomfortable feeling that PTerry admired him more than I would prefer, given the way I personally feel about their relative quality as writers. But speaking of Dickens, if Solomon is PTerry's answer to Fagin, I'm very much in favor of that, because Solomon was quite wonderful. He, even more than Dodger, felt like a true PTerry character. I was amused by his colorful history (including an encounter with a very bearded young man named Karl and his radical ideas about oppression), and his sly wisdom, and the way he knew everyone of importance and exactly how to behave. I think he was probably worth the price of admission. I also kept thinking of the Discworld books (which never happened with Nation) -- Sir Robert Peel got some very Vimes-y feeling lines, and I kept mentally comparing Dodger to Moist, who is a different sort of character, but similar in that he is a likeable underworld fellow who will cheerfully lie but won't kill people. Finally, the very London-ness of the setting and the focus on the sewers made me think of Whispers Under Ground (Peter Grant/Rivers of London #3), which is also very London-y and part of which takes place in the sewers, with a detour for a bit of a history lesson (and also the Punch simile/allusion reminded me of the first Peter Grant book), which was weirdly circular, as the Peter Grant books habitually remind me of Pratchett, which is high praise.
So, yes, I really liked Solomon, and Dodger was OK but no Moist. I expected to be more impressed by Simplicity, but there were some minor female characters I liked even if I wasn't particularly impressed by her -- Mrs Quickly the Mayhews' cook, for example, and some other ladies of Dodger's acquaintance, as well as the [spoiler]Outlander reveal. Besides Dickens, we get Bazalgette, and a bit of young Disraeli, which I was apprehensive about (I'm kind of protective of him, and the last time I saw him show up in fiction was in the Bartimaeus book, where it was not at all favorable), but I ended up liking Pratchett's portrayal, especially the description of him smiling "like the morning sun with a knife in its teeth". I'd not heard of Angela Coutts before, but I liked her, and especially this: "Solomon had told him that she had once proposed marriage to the Duke of Wellington. Wellington, known to have been a good tactician, had carefully and respectfully declined." -- she sounds like my kind of lady.
Just one quote, in addition to the two above:
"Dodger [...] walked in earnest down the nearest alleyway with the virtuous feeling of having done something right, by virtue of not doing something wrong."
*
I'm also officially giving up on Discount Armageddon about a third way in. I should've listened to lodessa and not even attempted it. The idea is cute, but the execution is very one-note and not very interesting, despite featuring mice. And, as there's rather a lot I will forgive on account of rodents, that's really saying something.
22. Sergey Lukyanenko, Novyj Dozor (Watch #5) -- I really, really like this one. I'm not sure at this point whether I would say this one of Twilight Watch (#3) is my favorite, but it definitely edges out the others. Spoilers frome here!
The first story had adequate amounts of Semyon in it, which was welcome (though for a while there, I was terrified the Tiger was going to kill him), and the next two saw the return of Arina, who might actually have edged out Semyon as my favorite. She feels like a very Russian version of Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg smushed into one -- an incredibly powerful but oddly amiable witch who walks that line between Light and Dark, although she is much more fallible than Pratchett's witches. And her oath was just simply BAD. ASS. Oh, and of course I was amused that she loved the LotR movies and could sleep after watching "The Blair Witch Project". I definitely hope that Arina is not out of commission for long, despite being shut up in the Sarcophagus of Time (or whatever). This series is much, much more fun with her in it. And I would LOVE to see her and Semyon meet at some point.
The other reason, I think, is that all three stories solidly hung together, and the revelations were startling but also felt more logical than a lot of the revelations in the other Watch books -- the symbiosis with Twilight makes sense, and Twilight protecting itself with the Tiger makes sense, too, or more sense than the Mirror stuff, anyway. Although I'm not sure it's adequately explained why the plane in first story did not crash, or the Tiger's behaviour with humans vs Others. And in the prologue of the second story, there were some interesting musings and revelations about the counterbalance of Light and Dark Watches -- I didn't realize that it's *always* true that the Dark Others are more numerous and the Light Others are more powerful. Oh, and the little detail about Others inventing certain spells only after humans described them in fantasy, like the "bag of holding" Svetlana uses, or, presumably the spell "Bilbo", which sounds like what you get when using the Ring. Plot-wise, the first story was the most gripping, with the tens build-up to the coming of the Tiger, and the cliffhanger of the maybe-recorded prophecy on the toy telephone, and the discussion about whether it was worth it or necessary to fight the Tiger to but Kesha some time (though, honestly, I'm with Las mostly, who is a Chaotic Neutral character if ever there was one). Oh, and while I usually find the lyrics insertions distracting, I actually liked these songs, so that was part of my enjoyment as well.
Geser was great as usual, his Yendi self, but it was also neat to see Zavulon actually knowing more than Geser for once, though subsequent stories explained why (and, there, I did quite like Zavulon standing up to the Tiger for little Erasmus, even if temporarily). It was fun meeting Erasmus and getting the explanation for why he was able to prophesy into oak tree. Nadya continues to be adorable, in that well-brought-up precocious kid way (Sveta and Anton are doing a good job with her. Oh, also, I think this is the first book in which the Nadya = nadezhda = hope thing is actually acknowledged, when Anton interprets Geser using the common noun literally to mean that he should call over his daughter. And I really liked Zhermenson the retired battle mage and his golem and his assumption that Anton was Jewish and joking with Geser. I sort of forgot about Svetlana's decision to stop using magic, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I guess how I feel about it is that I've never cared about Svetlana... not that I ship Anton/Arina, but I find their interaction far, far more interesting, both in this book and in general.
I enjoyed all the Blake alusions and quotes, though I'm skeptical of Geser's supposition that, in Russia, the Russian translation would trump the original, and was amused by Anton's lack of education about Blake. Pop culture allusions are always a large part of the fun with these books. I loved the revelation that Geser watches House MD (and even quotes from it) and reads Harry Potter, and Anton reads Pratchett to unwind (though I wonder if his choice of Rincewind/Wizards over the Watch books is significant), and the revelation that the Harry Potter books were commission by the Others. Oh, and a Strugatski reference, of course, in "shukhart" as slang for a Light Other who goes off the rails and decides to do good indiscriminantly and contrary to the agreement of the Watches. Also, not pop culture, but I was amused by Anton's observation that all the waitresses in London are Russian, which is something we noticed as well.
23. Justine Larbalestier, How to Ditch Your Fairy -- I picked this out for me, but L actually ended up reading it first, because she saw it lying around, started it, and got hooked (I thought she might be put off by the slightly made up language, but while she boggled at it a little bit and found the slang funny, it didn't seem to bother her at all, which is good to know). She also enjoyed it more than I did, which is fine. But the really neat thing is that she figured out what Steffi's fairy was before either I or Charlie did (before it even occurred to me to wonder what his fairy was, to be honest), which was really cool -- she's very good at this sort of thing, so it's not a surprise, but always nice to see the confirmation.
As for the actual book, it was cute? The fairy concept is neat, and, indeed, more lasting than anything I remember of the plot. (We've decided that L has a finding things fairy, and I'm not sure what kind I have, but I'd want either an always-being-on-time fairy or a book rec / fandom baba (as lunasariel calls it) fairy who would allow me to make perfect recommendations to people, especially on books.) But, yeah, back to the actual book. I liked the Worldbuilding of New Avalon, with the unreliable narrator slow build (although nothing like the masterpiece of Liar, of course) -- the way Charlie is a huge fan of her city and her school, but you get to see an outsider's perspective of them (and form your own) and things are not nearly so rosy, but she doesn't actually change her mind, except a little. I liked Charlie well enough, and her determination to get rid of her sucky fairy. I liked the way her friendship with Fiorenze developed (but I felt like Fiorenze's "all guys like me" fairy not having an effect on males not close to her in age was a bit of a cop-out, but probably for the better -- it got fairly skeevy even with the restriction in place, though handled well enough.) And that's about it, really.
24. Lynn Flewelling, Shadows Return
25. Lynn Flewelling, The White Road -- I actually don't have a whole lot to say about these two. Spoilers! I would've probably been surprised by the oddly slavefic feel of the first one if I hadn't been forewarned, but as it was, it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. In fact, I kinda have to say I found Shadows Return a faster, more interesting read than The White Road. Probably because Ilar was my favorite thing about book 4, and in book 5 he is so broken and pathetic instead of the interesting, complicated character he is in book 4. Still, these felt weaker than Traitor's Moon, not as complex or polished.
Things I liked: Ilar/Khenir in book 4, as mentioned, and the conflicted feelings he and Seregil elicit in each other; Yhakobin the alchemist/"kind" slavemaster (and the way Khenir genuinely seems loyal to him, while working for his own ends of course); getting to see Micum in action again; more of Prince Korathan (whose past with Seregil I wouldn't mind seeing more of); Rieser of the Hazadrielfaie, who is my sort of stoic warrior.
Things I didn't like as much as I was hoping to: what little there was of Thero. I'm increasingly convinced that I liked book 1's stick-up-his-ass Thero more, as a character, than the new, supposedly improved Thero. And the pining for Klia was meh.
Things I didn't DISlike as much as I was expecting to: book 4 in general and the slavery in particular, which was not as gratuitous as I'd been afraid it would be. Sebrahn (with the caveats below). I was relieved that you weren't supposed to accept him as a cuddly substitute baby that you'd be rooting for Alec to keep. He was creepy and dangerous and discomfitted everyone except Alec. I could understand Alec's bond to him, given what Alec had been through and what had happened with the first rekharo, and the real magical connection between them, as well as Alec's yearning for a child, but I thought it was pretty clear this was not a sustainable or even desirable situation, so I didn't feel like I was supposed to find the "kid" cute (though I could've done with fewer mentions of his "cold little hands" and whispery attempts to speak). And I was glad that Sebrahn was shipped off with the Hazadrielfaie in the end. But it wasn't as bad as I'd been expecting.
Things I did dislike: Sebrahn's special deus ex machina powers. There were limitations and dangers, so it was not as bad as it could have been, but I really do draw the line at being able to kill multiple people at a distnace with a song and bringing people back from the dead. Also, elements of Alec and Seregil's relationship that I thought were steps back, like Alec freaking out about Seregil bringing up that he could have a baby with some random girl (um, you can? it's not an automatic betrayal of the relationship), and Alec being jealous of Ilar to the degree he is, and Seregil being jealous of Sebrahn. Like, I understand they've been through some pretty harsh times, and I'm willing to cut them some slack, but a lot of the relationship drama felt artificial to me, when I felt like there was no need for additional drama at all.
Anyway, these two were reasonably entertaining, but I'm coming to the conclusion that this will never be a series I love, merely one I follow. But that's good enough, since I have people to talk about these books with.
26. Melina Marchetta, Finnikin of the Rock -- Some time ago I got a top 5 meme question for "tropes I hate when played straight" an Return of the King was on that list. I've not seen too many intentional deconstructions of it (Abercrombie's The First Law, on top of deconstructing everything else, maybe), so this book, which does that to a very interesting degree, interested me because of that. I was not disappointed. I can't say I loved it, because it's a good bit darker than I prefer my escapist reading, and while I admire the fact that there are no easy answers or magical healing... well, catharsis is actually a very nice feeling, and while there is hope and humour in this book, it's still a fairly tough read. But I'm very glad I read it, and I have things to say about it, and want to read what other people have to say about it, so that's a good thing.
MAJOR SPOILERS FROM HERE As I was reading this book, I kept mentally comparing various aspects of it with Tigana, which, for those joining our show already in progress, is a book that I hated passionately despite enjoying GGK's other work. Finnikin gets right, or at least interesting, most of the things that bugged me about Tigana. First of all, of course, Return of the King is a trope that Evanjalin/Isaboe intentionally invokes, using Balthazar's name and the hope/rumour that he is alive to gather and rally the scattered remains of the Lumatere-in-diaspora. And, yes, there is a surviving heir of the royal line, but one of the things I liked very much is the way it's made clear that the reason Isaboe is the right queen is not because she's a descendent of the royal line, but because she is ruthless and indomitable and brilliant, someone who inspires loyalty and admiration (as we can see with Froi), not merely someone of the right blood. I especially liked the Monts' opinion that what makes Isaboe a good queen is all the stuff she inherited from her commoner mother and not her overly soft father the king-of-divine origin. And my very favorite thing about it is that Isaboe's own determination is to help get the people of Lumatere to a place where they don't fall apart because something happens to their beloved royal family, don't need a Return of the King. So, yeah, that was some satisfying subversion.
Some other things I liked in contrast to Tigana were shown with Froi, and so I'm looking forward to the sequel, Froi of the Exiles, which I hope deals more with that. One of the things that bugged me with Tigana was the way every person of Tigana descent raised in the diaspora felt some kind of mystical bond to the king-in-exile and the land and blah blah blah, which struck me as way too unrealistic and cheesy even for fantasy. I liked the way Finnikin handled this much better -- Froi, who grew up abandoned and feral, does not feel any kinship to Lumaterans or love for the land even when he enters it. He feels no loyalty to Isaboe-the-queen or her retainers, although his loyalty to Evanjalin, the girl he traveled with, is fierce enough that he is willing to sacrifice his life for her (and maybe Finnikin, too, on the same personal basis). I'm definitely curious to see Froi's development from here, but it seems a much more reasonable reaction to the revelation that you are from a lost kingdom under a magical curse, you know?
Similarly, I liked the way the alternative to reclaiming the lost kingdom kept getting brought up -- Finnikin's preference for finding a piece of land to settle down, a second Lumatere. It's not the option taken in the end, of course, but I never felt like it was an option dismissed, either. The reason opening the way back into Lumatere is the right thing to do is that people are suffering there, and loved ones were separated by a magical curse, not because life outside your ~historical homeland~ is impossible. And there is at least the one camp of exiles who chooses to stay (because of guilt, but still), and I was glad that this was also something that was dealt with. (If it had been a longer exile than 10 years, I would have liked to see Lumaterans-in-exile who had found their niche and chose to stay, or who had started families with people of other kingdoms, that sort of thing, but the traumatic nature of the sundering and the short time that passed until the present day gets a pass on this from me.) I did think the misery of the exile camps was piled on a bit strong, but it's all adequately justified -- the massacre in Sarnak is motivated by Sarnak suffering economically from the closure of Lumatere, and if Lumaterans relied of Forest Dweller healers to maintain a healthy population, exposure of their people to foreign germs en masse without those healers and in the condition of the camps could certainly lead to fevers, so it all makes sense.
And, as I mentioned, while I wouldn't have minded a lighter ending, for escapism's sake, I actually really admired the fact that just riding into the lost kingdom and toppling the corrupt impostor king doesn't erase the ten years of loss and suffering. That the fields and homes are burned and need to be replanted and rebuilt. That Finnikin completes his census of the dead. That family members may have trouble recognizing each other and lovers don't just fall into each other's arms. That there's mistrust and political considerations and the lofty ideals of truth and justice may not be as simple as that.
So, anyway, as a story of a diaspora and the tribulations and options of one, and the subversion of the Return of the King tropes, I liked this book a lot. As a fantasy novel it was not bad at all. The simplicity of the place names in Lumatere (Flatlands, Monts, River, Rock, etc.) actually worked for me here unlike in Graceling because it was offset by placenames that weren't like that, and the sense of different languages and cultures and history. The magic was nebulous but not bad -- not a draw, but not a turn-off, either.
Plot-wise, eh, I figured out "Evanjalin"'s real identity before p.20 (basically, as soon as it was mentioned that the queen of Lumatere had been a Mont), and it became increasingly clear that this was the case. I did keep wondering how Finnikin could be missing it still, given that he'd grown up with Isaboe (who was 7 or 8 during the unspeakable, and, you know, people tend to look recognizably themselves by that age), but I guess between Evanjalin's shorn hair and years of tough living (vs a pampered princess), Finnikin believing Isaboe was dead (and probably not wanting to think about her too much since he seemed to be still sort of blaming himself because of the prophecy, and also probably realizing subconsciously that if Isaboe survived, his beloved Balthazar did not). My suspension of disbelief was stretched, but not to breaking, and I felt better when it became clear that Sir Topher knew exactly who Evanjalin was, and also Lady Celie. And by the time Lucian figured it out in like 20 seconds of acquaintance, it was kind of funny.
I typically start out talking about characters, but with this one I only just got around to that. Evanjalin/Isaboe is one of those characters I admire and respect and am glad they exist, but I don't love her, and I'm not even sure I like her very much. She is amazing, and very much what a queen reclaiming her kingdom should be, and I'm looking forward to seeing more of her in the sequels, but there is too much trauma and too much darkness for me to love her as a character. Finnikin is a nice kid, but I found him fairly bland (besides his hilarious obliviousness), but that's typical for me and protagonists, so I was glad the story was at least as focused on Evanjalin. I also can't really care about the relationship between them, because I didn't feel much chemistry there, and also, it felt less interesting than it could have been, given that they grew up together. I find Evanjalin's relationship with Froi much, much more interesting (and at some point when I was thinking about it, parallels to Cordelia and Bothari -- albeit very approximate ones -- occurred to me) -- both consumate survivors who understand that about each other far better than the other characters can, and Finnikin's relationship with his father much more touching (and his banter with Lucian much more 'shippy, tbh). Of course I liked Travanion, I always like his type. And I liked Sir Topher and Lady Abie the former fishmonger's daughter, and found Tesadora intriguing, but Lady Beatriss just felt like a saintly construct to me, though I am curious to see whether her and Trevanion's relationship can be rebuilt, and how.
A couple of quotes, both from Evanjalin, who had all the best lines: "It's not heroics we need, Finnikin. It's courage." and "There are worse things than a lie, and there are better things than the truth."
27. Terry Pratchett, Dodger -- It was an interesting read, but mostly on a meta level, I have to say. Like, I was a bit skeptical going into Nation but ended up loving it a lot -- I would list it in my top 10 favorite Pratchett books, and I'd have to think about whether or not it squeaks into the top 5 (tough call between it and Hat Full of Sky). There are no such considerations with Dodger -- it was fun, but not "good PTerry" levels of fun. In fact, I found it dragging a bit about 2/3 through and put it down to read another book (Finnikin, above) and do things on the computer instead, which I think has only happened to me with The Last Continent. And, yes, enjoyable, but what I'm left thinking about is the way in which it reminds me of other books, rather than on its own merits, which is also not a thing I'm used to with PTerry.
First of all, there's Dickens as a character, which felt very interesting after I kept thinking of how Pratchett does Dickens better while reading A Tale of Two Cities. I don't know much about Dickens the man, so I didn't have a feel for how much verisimilitude PTerry's portrayal of him as a character had, but I didn't have any particular thoughts on him, either. I actually had the slightly uncomfortable feeling that PTerry admired him more than I would prefer, given the way I personally feel about their relative quality as writers. But speaking of Dickens, if Solomon is PTerry's answer to Fagin, I'm very much in favor of that, because Solomon was quite wonderful. He, even more than Dodger, felt like a true PTerry character. I was amused by his colorful history (including an encounter with a very bearded young man named Karl and his radical ideas about oppression), and his sly wisdom, and the way he knew everyone of importance and exactly how to behave. I think he was probably worth the price of admission. I also kept thinking of the Discworld books (which never happened with Nation) -- Sir Robert Peel got some very Vimes-y feeling lines, and I kept mentally comparing Dodger to Moist, who is a different sort of character, but similar in that he is a likeable underworld fellow who will cheerfully lie but won't kill people. Finally, the very London-ness of the setting and the focus on the sewers made me think of Whispers Under Ground (Peter Grant/Rivers of London #3), which is also very London-y and part of which takes place in the sewers, with a detour for a bit of a history lesson (and also the Punch simile/allusion reminded me of the first Peter Grant book), which was weirdly circular, as the Peter Grant books habitually remind me of Pratchett, which is high praise.
So, yes, I really liked Solomon, and Dodger was OK but no Moist. I expected to be more impressed by Simplicity, but there were some minor female characters I liked even if I wasn't particularly impressed by her -- Mrs Quickly the Mayhews' cook, for example, and some other ladies of Dodger's acquaintance, as well as the [spoiler]Outlander reveal. Besides Dickens, we get Bazalgette, and a bit of young Disraeli, which I was apprehensive about (I'm kind of protective of him, and the last time I saw him show up in fiction was in the Bartimaeus book, where it was not at all favorable), but I ended up liking Pratchett's portrayal, especially the description of him smiling "like the morning sun with a knife in its teeth". I'd not heard of Angela Coutts before, but I liked her, and especially this: "Solomon had told him that she had once proposed marriage to the Duke of Wellington. Wellington, known to have been a good tactician, had carefully and respectfully declined." -- she sounds like my kind of lady.
Just one quote, in addition to the two above:
"Dodger [...] walked in earnest down the nearest alleyway with the virtuous feeling of having done something right, by virtue of not doing something wrong."
*
I'm also officially giving up on Discount Armageddon about a third way in. I should've listened to lodessa and not even attempted it. The idea is cute, but the execution is very one-note and not very interesting, despite featuring mice. And, as there's rather a lot I will forgive on account of rodents, that's really saying something.