. . . so maybe I read a little bit more than I think I do. I’m chalking September’s long list up to that hurricane-shaped thing that came through in the middle of the month.
Putting all comments behind cuts, regardless of length, for formatting and to save friends pages.
The Paths of the Dead, Steven Brust: Brust! Khaavren! Novel! Wibble! Squee! Read! OMGfangirlwibblesquee!
Translation: Steven Brust writes another Khaavren novel. Local fangirl drops to floor from literary crack overdose. On the first page.
I really enjoyed PotD. The Khaavren novels drip with overwrought language (pages - pages, I say - to communicate information that could be described in two sentences!), swordfights, courtly manners, somewhat sprawling and convolute plots, and a narrator who’s a character in his own right. Had a little more money, this would so have been a hardcover purchase, even if the library had a copy, because I want it on my shelf when I need to laugh.
Adulthood Rites, Octavia Butler: Sequel to Dawn, second book in the Exogenesis trilogy. Akin, first son of the protagonist in Dawn, is kidnapped by humans who have refused to live with the alien Oankali, and learns a bit about the human race. Bascially develops the other half of the "join/split" argument in Dawn.
Imago, Octavia Butler: Last book in the Exogenesis trilogy and about the time I finally noticed the "three books, three sexes, one trilogy" thing. Jodahs unexpectedly matures into an ooloi, the third Oankali sex, and has to cope with being the first Human/Oankali ooloi. The trilogy’s ultimate thesis seems to suggest that integration of two different cultures or races produces something more than either group - any group - could achieve independently, and that not expanding and changing will destroy you eventually. That or I’m reading my own experiences into the novels.
Butler’s protagonists tend to be thrown into situations nearly as stressful, upsetting, and invasive as Cherryh’s protags; at some point I may have to do some sort of Cherryh/Butler comparison.
Lirael, Garth Nix: Reread so I could drop into Abhorsen. Lirael’s greatest weakness is the title character’s crushing "I’m not a proper Clayr, so I will never be a worthy adult!" attitude; I’ve been through that phase of teenage alienation, thanks much, and don’t need the vivid reminder. Also, Sam just annoyed me, possibly because (again) his attitudes and actions struck a little close to home. I was quietly rooting for the slightly demonic Mogget and his rather sarcastic attitude toward Sam while reading the Sam-centric sections.
The story didn’t go too many places Sabriel hadn’t already. The worldbuilding in the Clayrs’ Glacier, especially the Library, was fascinating, and the plot rolled along smoothly, but the basic themes were very similar and the major conflict the plot was building to was essentially the same fight as in Sabriel, but the Menacing Evil had been beefed up a bit. The fact that it took the hardcover edition almost 500 pages to unite the alternating PoVs and cliffhanger itself didn’t help the novel’s case. I’m very glad I knew about the cliffhanger going into the novel.
Abhorsen, Garth Nix: A coming-of-age trip finally gets around to doing its Epic Conflict. Nix rewrites his worldbuilding during the Epic Battle and doesn’t seem to notice.
Abhorsen had some cool stuff, I’m sure. It did not have enough cool stuff to fill 368 hardcover pages. Besides, the Epic Battle annoyed the heck out of me, so I’m going to skip to that.
So. The Epic Evil is trying to escape from its ancient prison. Despite Our Heros’ efforts, it manages to get about 95% unbound, and the Heros must recapitulate the battle that subdued and bound the Evil in the first place. Things are looking a bit shaky; in the first battle, seven great powers bound the eighth (our Evil) while a ninth power - better known as Mogget, for most of the series - fled the scene. This time around, Mogget throws in its lot with the Seven and/or their avatars, which turns the tide and lets Our Heros rebind the Evil.
One of the features of the universe Nix is playing with in Abhorsen is the importance of certain numbers: five Great Charters, binding and protecting the land; nine precincts of Death; nine great, ancient, almost forgotten Powers; the seven bells used in necromancy, explicitly linked with the seven "good" Powers. Except - if the ambiguous power fought on the side of Good this time, doesn’t that mess with the worldbuilding?
Or possibly I’m reading Diane Duane riffs into very not-Duane worlds.
herewiss13, please call me on it if I am.
Sabriel, Garth Nix: Reread to see if the stuff that bothered me about Lirael and Abhorsen was there too. Good standalone, interesting worldbuilding, plot suffers from a YA-ish feel. I wish Nix had written a novel about non-royalty in the Old Kingdom, or the Perimeter Guard, or something exploring the magic system and worldbuilding - specifically, why the Wall? - instead of writing Lirael and Abhorsen.
1602, Issues 1 and 2, Neil Gaiman et al: Very pretty recasting of a crowd of Marvelverse characters in the dying days of Elizabeth I’s reign. Unlike many people reading the series, I’m not a Marvel zombie deeply familiar with the Marvelverse, so I’m missing "aha!" moments ("aha! There is Daredevil!" or, "aha! That is so a cross-dressing Jean Grey!") left, right and center. Fortunately,
the fans are out in force and looking for these things, so I don't have to.
On the other hand, the art is very, very pretty, and I’m enjoying the characters introductions as the plot starts to move. My largest quibble is the Evil Overlord vibe count Otto Von Doom gives off. I like my antagonists a little less cardboard, thanks much. If they’re that arbitrary in their sadistic cruelty, how do they keep the minions and merchants from fleeing the country and taking the economy with them?
Getting away from the mechanics and fen for a moment... the art is very, very pretty, and features a lot of the blue-greens that melt my brain for no good reason. The setting is a great idea. Elizabeth’s death without issue brought about an era of English political/religious conflict that wasn’t resolved until after the Glorious Revolution of 1689. (By some standards, the British succession remained shaky until George the First took the throne in 1714, more than a century after Elizabeth’s death.) From the point of view of the people living it, the early 17th century was a profoundly uneasy time to be alive. And there’s very little like a socially uneasy era, on the cusp of major social and political change, for some fantastic storytelling.
I’m interested to see where Gaiman is going with the Templar treasure, and what connections it may ultimately have with the characters we’ve met so far. Drop by around March for my final opinions on the series.
The Phoenix Code, Catherine Asaro: Reread mostly because
fairestcat was complaining about The Veiled Web, also by Asaro, and claimed Phoenix Code had been much less insipid.
Short, shallow version: dude. If my romantic options were the android with the Oedipus complex or the man with more "bad childhood" stress issues than most of my family, I would have opted for celibate spinsterhood in a heartbeat.
On the other hand, I've never had a brilliant, handsome, kind of crazy man and a developing android vying for my affections. Perhaps I'd change my mind if I did.
Longer version: Asaro is noted for her fusion of science fiction and romance tropes, but the SF side of The Phoenix Code didn't bear up for me. Asaro postulates that since androids can be designed to be stronger, smarter and more stable than humans, humans will be threatened by their development, and suggests this can be circumvented by incorporating that technology into humans - IR-sensitive contact lenses or implants, biomech, the works. She shows the increasing similarities of androids to humans very well in PC, but doesn't show the other half of the process - humans becoming more android - in return. This killed the SF aspect book thematically, shifting the burden onto the romance, which I didn't really care about.
Still, letting the android loose in Vegas was hysterical.
A College of Magics, Caroline Stevermer: teenage Duchess Faris Nanalleen of Galazon is exiled to Greenlaw College until such time as she acquires her degree and can be called a witch of Greenlaw. Having achieved this, she is charged with mending a flaw introduced into the world by her grandmother, a powerful magician. (Yes, that’s a bit compressed. That’s why it’s called a summary.)
First, ignore
the cover. Faris is seventeen, not twelve, when the book begins.
Personally, I thought this was a fun romp; the characters in the beginning of the novel are pretty clearly Good or Evil, but the lines blur a bit toward the end. The handling of Faris’ uncle might be worth some attention; she hates him at the beginning of the book, but seems to reluctantly acknowledge that he may have some virtues by the end of the story.
A sequel to A College of Magics,
A Scholar of Magics, is due out next April. Does anyone have so much as a blurb for this?
Caroline Stevermer can occasionally be found on livejournal as
1crowdedhour, so the information about Scholar probably floating around on the next somewhere I haven't thought to look.
The Secret Country, Pamela Dean: Kid’s book. Wish the kids had argued less and moved the plot a bit faster. Didn’t realize it was part of a real trilogy when I picked it up. ("Real trilogy": constructed as three books, not one book with two more volumes tacked on after the standalone sold well. Nix’s books, reviewed above, are not a "real" trilogy. They’re a three book series.) Has nearly as many literary references as Tam Lin, also by
pameladean. I seem to remember hearing that Dean was an english major; based on the number of literary references she puts in her books, I can believe it.
Cowboy Feng’s Space Bar and Grille, Steven Brust: Brust does Spider Robinson: a restaurant and band prone to bouncing through spacetime land farther from home than the protagonist really wants to think about. Instead, he pontificates on his band, his girlfriend, and some mouthwatering food. What is it with Brust and food? The first paragraph of the novel describes a bowl of matzoh ball soup I would love to try. Of course, I’m a sucker for matzoh ball soup. On the other hand, Brust makes mushrooms sound like a good idea, and I normally pick mushrooms out of my food! It would probably be highly spoiler-ish to mention that this shares a character PoV trick with Orca, and it’s only marginally important. Cowboy Feng’s... is a fun romp, at least, and helped stave off Brust withdrawl while I waited for the library to find a copy of The Lord of Castle Black.
August, forgotten: Sorcery and Cecelia; or the Enchanted Chocolate Pot, Patricia Wrede and Caroline Stevermer: two cousins exchange letters when one goes to London to make her debut. Magical and aristocratic intrigue ensue. Letter game between two authors, recently republished. Fun little Regency alternate universe novel, incorporating both Regency and fantasy tropes. Patricia Wrede’s written two other novels in the same universe,
Mairelon the Magican and
The Magician’s Ward, that have a similar tone. I suspect all three books, as well as Stevermer’s A College of Magics (which may or may not be in the same universe, I’m not sure), would be enjoyed by teenage fangirls going through or emerging from a Mercedes Lackey phase; the bad guys are nearly as clearly delineated, but the plot’s a bit more complex and stands up to rereads better. I suspect someone who read this at thirteen might come back to it several years and a lot of Regency rediscover a lot of Regency conventions they missed the first time around.
I've heard it said more than once that Stevermer and Wrede are working on a sequel, The Grand Tour. If this ever comes out, I'm definitely going to read it.