The Snow Queen's Shadow
Due to events, my reading has gotten behind, but the nice thing about books is that they are not fish, they do not spoil if you have to leave them for another day, and that day stretches out for a week or month.
I've really enjoyed Jim C. Himes' four-book series, which comes to an end with this book. Not too much to say that isn't spoilery, as everything in it is set up in the earlier versions. But I loved the characters, I found them complex, effective, tender and exasperating, kick-ass when they needed to be (and one when she didn't have to be, something justified in her characterization); the ending teetered on the edge of my comfort zone, which, when you consider what a wimp I am, might actually be a selling point for a huge number of readers. It definitely felt earned.
All along I loved the action, the way Hines ran with the whole twisted fairytales motif, I adored the humor, and I also enjoyed the fact that Hines was comfortable writing scenes exclusively female, with them being interesting, and not just talking about the nearest man. I'm old enough that that is not a given.
This makes me look forward to his next book, Libriomancy, which could easily be awesome--and just as easily could go astray. It's interesting that he posted about this very thing yesterday.
Several memtioned "Bimbos of the Death Sun," which some fans loved, some hated, some found excruciatingly condescending, and others found to be a fond homage.
Tuckerizations and in-jokes seem like parties later described to others--the jokes aren't as funny as you think they are, unless you were there.
To an extent, every book references something, if you view literature as a long conversation that human beings are having with themselves. I think the best books with injokes and references and Tuckerizations are the ones that can be read straight, so they create no bump in the story, but the knowledgeable twigs the hidden joke. Shakespeare was good at that with his puns. The best nineteenth century writers were able to convey a whole lot of hidden meaning to adults yet could be read by the young with no bumps. A later reading opens up all kinds of new windows, which is one of the joys of the reread.
I think Hines can give us a first-rate urban fantasy of a different kind, because I never get the sense that he thinks he's cleverer than his reader. That tone tends to make my hackles rise.
I've really enjoyed Jim C. Himes' four-book series, which comes to an end with this book. Not too much to say that isn't spoilery, as everything in it is set up in the earlier versions. But I loved the characters, I found them complex, effective, tender and exasperating, kick-ass when they needed to be (and one when she didn't have to be, something justified in her characterization); the ending teetered on the edge of my comfort zone, which, when you consider what a wimp I am, might actually be a selling point for a huge number of readers. It definitely felt earned.
All along I loved the action, the way Hines ran with the whole twisted fairytales motif, I adored the humor, and I also enjoyed the fact that Hines was comfortable writing scenes exclusively female, with them being interesting, and not just talking about the nearest man. I'm old enough that that is not a given.
This makes me look forward to his next book, Libriomancy, which could easily be awesome--and just as easily could go astray. It's interesting that he posted about this very thing yesterday.
Several memtioned "Bimbos of the Death Sun," which some fans loved, some hated, some found excruciatingly condescending, and others found to be a fond homage.
Tuckerizations and in-jokes seem like parties later described to others--the jokes aren't as funny as you think they are, unless you were there.
To an extent, every book references something, if you view literature as a long conversation that human beings are having with themselves. I think the best books with injokes and references and Tuckerizations are the ones that can be read straight, so they create no bump in the story, but the knowledgeable twigs the hidden joke. Shakespeare was good at that with his puns. The best nineteenth century writers were able to convey a whole lot of hidden meaning to adults yet could be read by the young with no bumps. A later reading opens up all kinds of new windows, which is one of the joys of the reread.
I think Hines can give us a first-rate urban fantasy of a different kind, because I never get the sense that he thinks he's cleverer than his reader. That tone tends to make my hackles rise.