*Lisey's Story* is one of Stephen King's favourite novels. That's no guarantee of qualYou can watch my video review here: https://youtu.be/94aI-UR2L0A
*Lisey's Story* is one of Stephen King's favourite novels. That's no guarantee of quality: great writers have been partial to their own imperfect works before. Indeed, *Lisey's Story* is such a read, flawed in its overindulgence even as it delivers the signature King thrills and shivers.
King's novel is about a Maine writer, Scott Landon, and his wife, Lisey. Scott died two years ago, but his absence is felt more keenly by Lisey than ever before as she prepares to clean out his study. Events in the present bring the past to bear in horrifying new ways, ways which force Lisey to face things she has chosen to forget. These inevitably have to do with Scott, his tragic origins, and the secret behind his writing craft.
There's plenty to recall, plenty to relive--and Lisey goes chasing down the past with some urgency because her life is at risk. An argument with a local scholar eager to get his hands on Scott's personal archives leads to a far more dangerous situation. Lisey receives a phone call from "Zack McCool," a violent and dangerous stalker whose initial desire to get Mrs. Landon to give up her husband's archive reveals something altogether darker.
Bloodcurdling displays of violence and fresh personal tragedies force several layers of past events to come crashing down on Lisey in the present in what makes for excellent, emotionally resonant reading. It's difficult not to read the relationship as a tribute and a love letter to King's marriage and wife, respectively. The author has spoken of the inspiration for this novel being his return to his study after hospitalisation, wherein his wife Tabby had cleaned out and reorganised the writer's work-space. "This is what it would look like if I died. I felt like a ghost," King said about entering the reorganised study for the first time. This inspiration, the fictional Scott Landon's success, the relationship, the Maine setting, quite possibly the - these all invite a little more of an autobiographical read to the novel than the usual King story does, excluding fantastical elements. It's a dangerous road to go down on: it's good to keep in mind that likenesses or not, this is fictive.
That said, some of these elements feel indulgent exactly because of the likeness between King's life and the novel's narrative. The romp in Lisey's mind - because this novel spends so much more time inside the head of a character than do any of King's novels - is riveting, the kind of literary trek I couldn't look away from. But even for me, there was a feeling of bloat, of perhaps the need for an editor who would've insisted on a fifty-page cut, or even a hundred pages.
King always captures the sound and logic of spoken conversation. *Lisey's Story* displays his skill in this as many of his other pieces do; more than others, it also shows the way in which devout couples engender a language all their own, one I enjoyed learning as I read on.
Then, there're the elements of the uncanny. Because much like King's best works, *Lisey's Story*, too, gradually builds up a smörgåsbord of supernatural horrors, some real "bad-gunky", as Scott and the rest of his family would say. The worst of the lot is the Long Boy, an ineffable, unknowable creature living in a world entirely removed from this one, and the kind of nightmarish presence that haunts dreams and madhouses. The Long Boy is the cherry on a really botched up cake, and that cake begins with Scott Landon's mess of a family. It's great to read about, if you enjoy brutal horror nastiness.
You'll enjoy *Lisey's Story* if: - You're a Stephen King fan; - You enjoy psychological horror and don't mind the occasional venture into brutal violence; - You want to take preventive measures about your growing and unhealthy obsessions with fandom - this novel illustrates the dangers of just such obsession! - And more! Prob'ly....more
The City and the City lives and breathes across liminal spaces, somewhere opposite doublethink. China Mieville’s noir creates one of the most unique locales in fiction, a city that is two cities, Besźel and Ul Qoma. The citizens of one learn to unsee the citizens, the buildings, and all that happens within the other. That’s why a comparison to doublethink is an easy one: where Orwell’s idea demands the embrace of two different notions, Mieville’s unseeing is an act of wilful omission. It is a skill learned throughout childhood, cultivated through puberty, to be mastered by adulthood. To see, to act knowingly towards anything going on in the city you’re not a part of, is the worst offense, the act of breaching. Once you do it, once you’ve breached, they come for you–the boogeymen of both cities, the clandestine organization known as Breach. Shadows that peer from every corner, unstoppable and answerable to no one, Breach are an organization even the governments of each city fear…and with good reason.
Protagonist Tyador Borlú, Police Inspector at the Extreme Crime Squad, is no different. Tyador is just the kind of hard-boiled detective you’re imagining, a descendant of a long line of detectives whose inner humanity serves as motivation to dig deep into the foulest, most inhumane crimes. A moral compass is not an easy thing to have in Besźel, and even more difficult to navigate in Ul Qoma. The murder Borlú investigates leads down one impossible mystery after another, inviting speculation, talk of conspiracy, and the best detective duos since Kitsuragi and Du Bois. Okay, yeah, Disco Elysium came out ten years after this novel, but I just read it now so you’ll have to forgive me for crossing the timelines. The greatest difficulty comes from the city itself, from its rules. Crosshatched, alter, and total areas make navigating first Besźel and then Ul Qoma a difficult, but fulfilling task for the reader. Mieville’s introduction, deployment, and mastery over the complex ideas juggled to create these two unique city-states is the stuff of inspiration. His ideas are the kind of ideas I at once wish to play with and fear that I would be unable to do anything with, not outside the realm of blandest impersonation.
Because, beyond the imaginative strength of this novel rests a metaphor that makes the idea of unseeing so accomplished; this ability to unsee a whole other city beneath the city you live in, it reflects reality. We all unsee what we refuse to be witnesses of, gazes averted, thoughts turned away from extreme poverty, homelessness, acts of pettiness and suffering and even violence…if we are lucky enough to have the choice. Mieville’s work is a study in perception, in how far the human mind might go if it is taught from early on to place all its imaginative power, all its volition, to the task of seeing one half of what’s before you while unseeing the other. It’s a potent work, and among the most deserving works of all the accolades it has earned–among them the Hugo, Arthur C. Clarke, Locus, and World Fantasy Awards. And, in a moment of pure serendipity…I got a brand new copy, now destroyed by annotations, at half-price!
The written review will appear as soon as I have the time to breathe and theThe review of Veniss Underground is now live: https://youtu.be/zb24IRxQYzU
The written review will appear as soon as I have the time to breathe and the energy to type it out properly. But here's a wee something to forecast both what's above and what shall come below:
Jeff VanderMeer's first novel, Veniss Underground, is a fascinating if somewhat flawed work. A lot happens across these two-hundred-and-fifty pages: a heartbreaking tale of separation and rediscovery, a descent into the underworld, a Biblical struggle between man and cruel god--all of it written with prose at once substantial and with dreamlike quality. ...more
Whatever you say about Jonathan Franzen (and there’s plenty to say, no small amount of itOriginally published over at my blog, The Grimoire Reliquary.
Whatever you say about Jonathan Franzen (and there’s plenty to say, no small amount of it critical), you can’t deny the man his insight. He’s a fine writer, as this collection of republished essays proves; though they all originate in the 90s and very early 2000s, few come across as dated; the topics Franzen addresses continue toi bear relevance, twenty, thirty years on. Most of them, anyway.
Like most essay collections, How To Be Alone is a mixed bag. Some of the essays, I couldn’t stand–“Control Units” in particular, committed the sin of boring me, despite an interest in the way the American prison-industrial complex works. The tedium of it exhausted me physically. Similiarly, I read the last essay, “Inauguration Day, January 2001,” two days ago and I already can’t recall what it was about.
The essays I found touching were personal in their scope–“My Father’s Brain,” a story about Franzen’s personal experiences with the Alzheimer’s that dismantled his father piece by piece, over several years. “Meet Me In St. Louis,” the second to last essay, helps frame this collection, being about Franzen’s revisiting of his home neighbourhood after his mother’s death. This latter essay is also about his troubled time as an Oprah author, which was…amusing, in part.
Franzen’s take on the commodification of sex in “Books In Bed” is on point; “Lost in Mail,” which ponders the fate of the Chicago Postal service, might’ve been good if I remembered it; “Why Bother,” the famous “Harper’s Essay” with an updated ending, I found to be thoroughly uninspiring; the essay itself is more haughty than anything else.
Did this collection of essays teach me how to be alone? Not really, no. If you’d like to learn more about loneliness from a collection of essays, read Rachel Cusk’s brilliant Canterbury. You’ll get far better value for the time you invest than you’ll get from this. And, I would argue, better rhetoric, too.
Ah, well. It was a fine first taste of Franzen....more
Another one of The Ciaphas Cain series of Warhammer 40k novels has been translated to audiobook format aOriginally published over at The Fantasy Hive.
Another one of The Ciaphas Cain series of Warhammer 40k novels has been translated to audiobook format and after enjoying For the Emperor to no end, I just knew I had to get it. Once more narrated by Stephen Perring, with additional work done by Penelope Rawlins and Emma Gregory, the series about the not at all courageous hero of the Imperium continues to be a source of entertainment, despite it lacking as memorable a climax as the first novel in the series.
As far as blurbs go, that of Caves of Ice is certainly among the more frugal ones I’ve read: “Still attached to the Valhallans, Commissar Ciaphas Cain fights orcs and necrons on the ice world of Frigidia.” It’s a short novel, and I suppose if you’re familiar with the Empire’s most selfish—yet competent–Commisar, you need little more in the way of convincing.
The strongest selling point of this series is that unlike the vast majority of Warhammer 40k novels out there, it is hardly grimdark. Yes, monstrous creatures, brutish hordes of orcs, metallic horrors beneath the depths of the earth are all to be found in Mitchell’s Caves of Ice, but the tone the novel embraces, a humour only slightly less dry than in For the Emperor, makes of the grim future of the 40th millennium something with a little more joie de vivre. With orcs and metallic hordes that shoot laser beams which melt organic flesh, granted, but it still counts for something!
Everything Ciaphas Cain does is calculated to increase his chances of survival. As a Commissar, that is saying a lot—the members of the Commissariat are not particularly popular with the rank and file, and have a tendency of getting shot in the back when a situation gets heated…and with the Imperial Guard, any given situation getting heated is just a matter of time. How does Cain make sure he doesn’t share in the fate of so many other Imperials of his rank? He’s friendly with the troops, and does his best to sell the illusion that he cares for them. Whether he actually does is for the reader to decide; his own words point to the contrary, but his actions…well, Cain is a mystery. One wrapped in self-deprecating humour, and always looking out for his best survival. The fact that his instinct for self-preservation leads Cain into danger time and again shouldn’t convince you of his heroism. It’s all measured in such a way as to avoid greater peril to his person – though whether it succeeds, that’s another question entirely.
The cast of Mitchell’s first Cain novel returns in this one, and they’re as clueless about the good Commissar’s self-described true nature as ever; whatever the man does, they lap it up with barely a question. Colonel Castine, the boisterous General Sulla and her small sections of purple prose, several others – Amusing as always is Cain’s man-servant, Jurgen. Cain calls him aide, I think, but let’s not kid ourselves, I know a man-servant when I hear one, and you can smell it on Jurgen from a mile away.*
Perring continues to do impressive work with Cain’s internal monologue—the book is told in the first-person, and the narrator always delivers on the irony so rich in Sandy Mitchell’s text, and I would argue, his performance elevates the story, injects a little extra something to the narrative that I’m not certain I would’ve found otherwise. This is true about many of the Black Library narrators; Games Workshop has a fine track record with the folks they get to read Penelope Rawlins is, similarly, brilliant as Inquisitor Amberly Veil, whose footnotes are a great way to inject both humour and interesting information outside of Cain’s very self-centred perspective.
Caves of Ice is a fun book – it lacks something of a climax, or rather, doesn’t take the time necessary to develop it in full. Pity – there’s always a little something that keeps me from giving this particular chapter in the darling Commissar’s journey my full recommendation.
As it is, this will scratch a certain itch, if that itch has anything to do with pulpy space adventures with a helping of humour, or with a protagonist whose desire to live outweighs all else. Or, the God-Emperor forbid, with the slaughter of many thousands of orcs.
*For those who have neither read nor listened to any of the Ciaphas Cain books, Jurgen’s odor is the topic of many a paragraph in Sandy Mitchell’s novels....more
Another brutal Jack Reacher adventure, once again done justice by Jeff Harding's brilliant narration.Another brutal Jack Reacher adventure, once again done justice by Jeff Harding's brilliant narration....more
Child rarely goes back all the way to Reacher’s military career but this one tackles a pair of decisive moments for everyone’s favourite army policemaChild rarely goes back all the way to Reacher’s military career but this one tackles a pair of decisive moments for everyone’s favourite army policeman, one personal and the other one professional, both coinciding and intertwining in ways that change Reacher forever.
The Enemy sees Major Jack Reacher of the US Army welcoming the New Year posted in a military point in the middle of some rural state in the vastness of the States. A call comes through notifying him of the death of a two-star general at a motel nearby. Reacher has never seen a dead two-star before, he’s curious. Besides, you got a general dead thirty minutes away from a military base, you want to make sure nothing’s rotten.
But it’s a Jack Reacher novel, isn’t it, which means of course something isn’t right. Two-star looks like he had himself a bit of fun before the old ticker blew up. Seems a likely enough explanation – a general is as virtuous as the next soldier and often enough he’s plenty worse. Only, this general was heading to a conference and his briefcase is missing. In that briefcase? The agenda of the conference. Only, none of the other would-be attendants admit to this document’s existence. That’s when Reacher knows something is fishy…because if there’s one thing the army loves, it’s tightly-planned agendas.
What follows is an investigation that disillusions Reacher and changes his views on the one organisation that’s always been home to him – the U.S. army. The way this case develops, I’d be disillusioned too in his place – and I ain’t nowhere near as tough as that tall bastard.
On the personal front, we’ve got Reacher and his brother facing down a life without their mother, one hell of a tough French lady dying from late-stage cancer that’s eating I loved everything about this part of the plot – some fantastic revelations which shake the character of Reacher to the core at the worst possible time. Makes for great drama.
Lee Child’s unique brand of noir prose, solid supporting characters, fine antagonists and one hell of a mistery — what more can you want from a Reacher novel?
And do I even have to get into the narrator? When I read Reacher, I hear Jeff Harding’s voice in my head – his voice embodies the tough as nails military cop, if that makes any sense. He is brilliant! 5/5! 10/10! A hundred percent badassery!...more
High-tension opening that immediately got me invested into reading further. Reacher comes in, guns blOriginally posted over at The Grimoire Reliquary.
High-tension opening that immediately got me invested into reading further. Reacher comes in, guns blazing, and finds himself in one of the most tense, life-threatening situations he’s ever been in. Before long, Jack’s at the beck and call of a drug dealer, forced to play a dangerous game to survive.
I didn’t just like this one, I loved it. Jack is at his best when he’s cornered and working multiple angles, with a clock ticking down and spelling trouble for him; and the fact is, this is one of those first-person Reacher novels, which I love to death. Child does wonderful work whenever he shares in Reacher’s headspace completely – the prose, short, concise and brutal; the way Jack thinks, assaulting any and every problem without pause, dealing with his enemies with deadly efficiency.
With a cast of compelling side characters and several looming antagonists, as well as a series of flashback sequences, Persuader is a fantastic read for newcomers and veteran readers of Child’s alike. Jeff Harding’s narration embodies the essence of the character perfectly, and he does fantastic job with the remainder of the cast, too. My score for this is a 5/5.
Pre-Review Blabber: Reading and listening to Jack Reacher novels has been a drug to me since I was a teenager, and this one, narrated by Jeff Harding, is nothing short of amazing....more
This mini-review was originally posted on my blog. This one started off slow and then ramped up to a fascinating conflict. The stars of this WarhammeThis mini-review was originally posted on my blog. This one started off slow and then ramped up to a fascinating conflict. The stars of this Warhammer 40k novel are the members of the Alpha Legion and their primarch, Alpharius! This most secretive of all Astartes legions was fascinating to observe, as they led a bloody, secretive war that ended
The protagonist who made this novel as fun for me as it was is John Grammaticus, an immortal human recruited by the Cabal, an interplanetary council of xenos of all walks of life, whose ultimate goal is to stop or slow down the ascent of Chaos in the universe. The Cabal’s purpose was to manipulate Alpharius and his men to this purpose, and the conflict between them and the Alpha Legion played out to an unexpected end.
Great narration by David Timson. Good action, great plot twists and solid characters once again serve to prove that Dan Abnett is the unmistakable master of Warhammer 40k novels. My score for this one is 4/5....more
I have so much fun with books in the Warhammer 40k setting. There are hundreds upon hundreds of them and they range from the utterly ridiculous to theI have so much fun with books in the Warhammer 40k setting. There are hundreds upon hundreds of them and they range from the utterly ridiculous to the downright tragic; from grimmer than grimdark to…uh, kids’ books narrated by David Tennant and Billie Piper *squints*. All sorts of brilliant writers have contributed to the colossal body of works that is the lore of this universe – my absolute favourite so far has been Dan Abnett – and through its sheer amount, there is something for everyone. Granted, this is licensed tie-in fiction and I don’t think I’ll be doing anyone a disservice when I say that a lot of it isn’t particularly good. I’m not pointing any fingers!
That said, like with Abnett’s Eisenhorn series, every once in a while I come across something exciting and really, really good! In this particular case, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to the one, the only, Commissar Ciaphas Cain! Say hello, Commissar, don’t be shy, I know how you love the spotlight. Who is Commissar Cain? If you ask any high-ranking officer in the Imperial Army, he is a man of undeniable moral fibre, unquestioning loyalty to the Emperor and bravery in the face of unspeakable horror. If you ask Cain, he’ll gladly corroborate all these…while reflecting in the deep recesses of his mind that he is in fact an opportunist who has spent nearly two centuries surviving through quick thinking, exemplary bluffing and no small amount of luck.
For The Emperor is presented as the archived diary of this amusing Commissar, with footnotes and editorial comments penned by an Inquisitor who plays no small role in the untangling story of an Imperial frontier world that has erred away from the Emperor’s light. If a lot of what I said doesn’t make much sense to you, let me explain – in the fortieth millennium of the grim future, a very xenophobic humanity is barely surviving thanks to the will of a god-like entity entombed alive in a golden throne, holding together thousands of worlds and trillions of human lives through strength of will alone. This doesn’t play a factor, really, but you might as well know it if you’re still with me so far. This book doesn’t exactly get into any of this ‘bigger picture’ stuff but it’ll expect you to know certain backdrop information like this, or a few species of xenos (aliens) that aren’t explained in-depth. Certainly a minus for newcomers, I have to note, much as I adore this book.
Why do I like it so much? It’s humorous; hell, it’s laugh out loud funny, thanks to Cain (and, I suppose, Mitchell’s) acerbic wit, displayed time and again whenever the Commissar is forced to deal with life-threatening or otherwise harmful to himself situations. Or social functions. But in Cain’s case, they usually end up being one and the same, and the man has so much of that razor-sharp humour to spare for friends and enemies alike that it’s hardly a factor we need worry about. Inquisitor Veil’s footnotes are alike tongue-in-cheek, poking fun at much of what Cain has to say. Oh, you want an example? Fine, you’ve twisted my hand, here you go!
Cain: "Bribery and threats are popular methods for getting what you want, but the Inquisition is better at both and tend to resent other people using them." Amberley: Entirely untrue. The Inquisition is most definitely above such petty emotions as resentment.
With the aid of his smelly adjutant Jurgen, Ciaphas Cain is damn near a force of nature, and a ridiculous caricature of your average Commissar to boot. I hear he’s also the antithesis of Dan Abnett’s famous Commissar Gaunt…No way of telling really, since I have yet to touch those novels but it sounds believable enough. I adore Cain. It was refreshing to read about a character who, despite all outward appearances, is a self-centred rogue looking out for himself. Or is he? That’s the catch, the big question – is Ciaphas Cain the self-serving ass he sees himself as, or is he more a hero than he could ever admit?
I’ll let you decide for yourself, dear reader. Ciaphas Cain is much like Schrodinger’s cat; instead of wondering whether he’s alive or dead, though, we wonder which interpretation of Cain is the one closer to reality; others, or his own. As for me, I am happy to give For the Emperor a score of 4/5 stars on Goodreads! I had an immensely good time with the audiobook version of this novel; it was released just last year, eighteen years after the paperback release. Stephen Perring’s narration adds so much to the character, gives him a remarkable voice that reminded me so much of actor Tony Curran (Defiance, Doctor Who) that I could’ve sworn when I first began listening that it was indeed Curran narrating it. What I want more than anything is for Perring to narrate the rest of the novels in the series – come on, Black Library, you can do it!
You’ll enjoy this if: • You like Warhammer 40k but are tired of the mixture of heroics and melodrama; • You really enjoy well-written tongue-in-cheek humour that somehow manages to deconstruct much of what’s iffy with the Warhammer 40k universe without taking away any of the fun of it; • You’re into excellent characters, there are plenty of those; • and more! Prob’ly.
Before I wrap this up, I want to give a shout-out to a really enjoyable cast of supporting characters – a likable, newly-promoted colonel, a bunch of convicted soldiers, a general with a high opinion of the Commissar, among others. I can’t wait to read more about them, about Cain’s regiment, the 597th Valhallan, as a whole, and about what comes next for the good Commissar. I just want Stephen Perring to narrate it all! Oh, and I don’t suppose I ever told you about the Inquisitor. Let’s just say…Amberley Vail is a ruthless badass, one of the very few who see through Cain’s carefully crafted mask. An Inquisitor (I really like Inquisitors), Vail is an efficient operative who drags Cain into danger for the first of many times to come! ...more
I’ve had the first of Peter V. Brett’s Demon Cycle books recommended to me on reddit’s r/fantasy more than once. For years fellow redditors would nameI’ve had the first of Peter V. Brett’s Demon Cycle books recommended to me on reddit’s r/fantasy more than once. For years fellow redditors would namedrop the Demon Cycle; I must’ve had the first three books on my to-read list for well over three-four years. When I saw it on one of Audible’s 2-for-1 deals, I thought to myself, “At last, I will reveal myself to Peter V. Brett. At last, I will have my revenge.” Then I listened through seventeen hours of godly narration by Colin Mace and I have to say, I am well pleased with The Warded Man indeed.
Entering a new fictional world that might take up dozens or even hundreds of hours of your time is no small thing; those first few hours are decisive as they can either mesmerize or let you down. The Warded Man hooked me, and it did so in several ways. First of all, the atmosphere of fear and constant danger that oozes across every page through the first half of the novel is nothing short of impressive. It’s owed to one of the most original renditions of demonic entities I’ve come across in recent memories – the demons. These appear as soon as the sun is down, every single night, filled with malice and hatred for humans. The only thing that keeps them at bay are the wards, magical symbols of protection etched into wood, stone and cement. Thanks to these and these alone does humanity survive, whether in great walled cities or in tiny villages, spread throughout the land, often cut off and isolated from one another. But wards are not failproof; the demons possess base cunning and test them time and again. If any of the wards are weakened or imperfect, the demons will find the weakness and break through.
What follows is merciless slaughter, the kind only fanatical, thoughtless hate can inflict upon innocents. It’s evil made manifest. How humanity responds to that at the time of the book’s opening is not too difficult to picture; the time for fighting has long since passed and fear has nestled deep in the hearts of men. There’s no fight left in most of them and those in whom resistance still burns bright are the blazing exception. The demons can’t be hurt by conventional weaponry and trapping them until dawn is tough work, demanding sacrifice that most are unwilling to pay, and bravery none possess. And who could blame them? If creatures materialised out of smoke outside my home every day and spat venom or fire, or were fifteen feet high and made of rocks, I wouldn’t be bursting with bravery, either.
But you know who is? The foremost of our main characters, Arlen. We follow his life from a young boy suffering through tragedies and disillusionments all the way to adulthood. Arlen is fuelled by the injustices of the world and his own pain and loss in equal measure, pushed to right the wrongs of the world. Along the way, he stumbles more than once, is led astray by his thick-headedness and a number of other flaws, very nearly loses his humanity even. I’m keeping away from spoilers so I don’t take away anything from you, dear reader, though I desperately want to discuss his transformation over the course of the novel – it’s that good!
The other two main Point-of-view characters, Leesha and Rojer don’t have nearly as much text to shine in but shine, they do! Rojer, who is the youngest of them all and whose PoV picks up when he’s a mere four years old, is easy to like throughout, for his boyish good looks, kind nature and prodigious skills with the violin. Leesha, too, is beyond intriguing; a young, beautiful woman who goes through her share of hardship at the hands of a tyrannical mother and much more.
While the demons are the main source of conflict in the book, they’re far from the only one. From friends turned traitors to vengeful jongleurs and jilted lovers, each of our three characters suffers nearly as much hardship from human hands as from demonic claws. But for every character worth despising, there’s a supporting character that’s deep, immensely likeable and even badass! Take for example Bruna, the ancient crone that teaches Leesha herbalism. In addition to her vast knowledge of healing, Bruna also has a stick that she’s not afraid to use on anyone, as well as some very useful powders for misbehaving people and demons alike. That’s one badass granny! Or Cob, the messenger who risks his life every night on the road, trading with village merchants and gathering news from afar.
Other reviewers have pointed this out, and it’s a 100% true: The Warded Man is a coming-of-age novel about these characters, and it’s a solid one. Their individual journeys are beyond thrilling and manage to sketch out different facets to a well-executed, original fantasy world that feels rife with potential. My score for Peter V. Brett’s The Warded Man is 4.5 out of 5.
You might want to read this if: • You like excellent worldbuilding; • And coming-of-age stories with strong lead characters; • You’re curious to see a different take on several familiar tropes: farmer-turned-saviour, farmer-turned-bard, non-farmer-but-almost-turned-herbalist, demons with an elemental spin; • You like your reads with plenty of interesting side characters; • You enjoy a cool magic system that you could play with; • Fantastic narration of the audiobook version, courtesy of Colin Mace; • and more! Prob’ly....more
When I opened this on my Kindle on accident a few days ago, I did not expect to come across a very solid, enjoyable 61-page novella that was also tiedWhen I opened this on my Kindle on accident a few days ago, I did not expect to come across a very solid, enjoyable 61-page novella that was also tied to Stephen King’s “The Dark Tower” series, one of my most beloved meta series.
“UR” does all the things Stephen King’s best novels do. It presents a relatable, likable protagonist with very human flaws — in English Lit professor Wesley’s case, a sort of childish spite — and an event that sees said protagonist’s grasp on reality begin to slip, pushing him towards a questioning of reality as he knows it.
It’s incredible how much I grew to care about Wesley in the span of these sixty pages. The mark of good writing, and King’s writing in particular — the man can make you care about anything and everything in just a few pages, and then force you to bitter tears. I’m looking at you, “The Stand.”
It’s a simple enough story — Wesley is looking for a way to show university colleague and his ex, Ellen, that she’s wrong about him, and so buys a Kindle. This used to be in the very earliest day of Kindle, kids, when you only had the one variable; it came in white, didn’t have touch-screen or LED lights, and was generally a somewhat bulkier and worse device than some of its competitors — but it did have all of Amazon’s considerable catalogue of e-books, which crowned it King of the e-reader market. History lesson over!
At any rate, Wesley gets a pink Kindle, which at first he doesn’t at all mind — he hasn’t done too much research, after all, it was more of an impulse purchase on the advice of one of his pupils, “the Henderson kid” who plays an important role in the novel’s interpretation of “The Three Stooges”. Ha-ha, my reference game is strong today!
At any rate, it’s not the colour that’s the strangest thing about the Kindle — it’s the fact that its experimental features allow the reader to access the works of writers like Ernest Hemingway and William Shakespeare; only, Wesley discovers works never written by these authors. Works that are so obviously written by these authors that to deny their authorship would be madness, greater even than accepting the impossibility of the small pink device being able to tap into the virtual libraries of alternate realities. I’ll say no more, but let’s just leave it at this: there are other, more impressive features this pink Kindle possesses.
What surprised me was the ending. It could’ve gone several kinds of wrong, but unlike in, say, “Pet Sematary” or even “The Dark Tower” itself, King decides to give us readers a break…mostly.
I will say, if I ever see a pink Kindle delivered to my door by mistake, I’d like to think I would squash it with the heel of my boot…but I have the gnawing doubt that I’ll pick it up and sign up for the experimental “UR” features, instead.
My score of “UR” by Stephen King, is…5 stars! ...more
Horus' fall is in truth a tragedy, the depth of which this novel only scratches the surface of.
A personal story that directly continues the plot straHorus' fall is in truth a tragedy, the depth of which this novel only scratches the surface of.
A personal story that directly continues the plot strands from the first novel, as written by my favourite WarHammer 40k scribe, Dan Abnett, this sees the fracture of brotherly bonds, the undercurrents of Chaos spreading deep into the Sons of Horus, and the great Warmaster himself falling prey to the Warp's seduction and lies in what is arguably a...not too brilliant a turn.
Despite some reservations on my part, I was gripped and deeply enjoyed this wee novel; note, I consumed this in audiobook form, as read by the brilliant Toby Longsworth. He's an excellent narrator, and his deep, gruff voice is so at home in the world of Warhammer 40k (or is it 30, in this case?) that, if I ever were to run into him on the street, I'd fully expect him to look just like an Astartes warrior.
I also love how much foreshadowing McNeill deal with here, and how some of what he writes about really makes for most delicious irony!
I'll probably not write more of a review for "False Gods" than this, but if you've ever wondered about the Warhammer 40k universe, Horus Heresy and this are really good entry points, I can't help but feel. ...more
This review was originally posted over at booknest.eu! The world of the Malazan Empire is among the most complex fantasy worlds ever created. Very few This review was originally posted over at booknest.eu! The world of the Malazan Empire is among the most complex fantasy worlds ever created. Very few would disagree with this, even those in the fantasy community who hold onto a firm dislike for Erikson’s storytelling style. I admire the world and characters; the complexity of both is second to none and I have within my mind’s eye, expanses of scenes as tragic as they are heroic, as cruel as they are hopeful.
But this isn’t about the Malazan Book of the Fallen; in Erikson and Esslemont’s world, you can also find stories such as the ones within the pages of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach. Kooky, funny stories, darkly humorous and filled with the most outlandishly morbid action and violence that I’ve come across in a novella.
If you, like me, have read Erikson’s epos you’ll have some knowledge of Bauchelain, Korbal Broach and their manservant Emancipor Reese from the pages of Memories of Ice. They’re a memorable trio, as much for the initial mystery surrounding them as for their own inability to estimate what they’re up against. If you have yet to make contact with Memories of Ice or any of the other entries in the Book of the Fallen, fear not, for these three collected novellas don’t expect you to know anything about their zany characters as they depopulate towns, sail through bloody seas and wreck entire civilization. I use hyperbole here, though I expect Erikson wouldn’t mind, being generously at fault for exercising the very same rhetorical device more than once.
In many ways, these might be some of the most accessible of Erikson’s works – though they’re also the shallowest. Don’t get me wrong, there’s no small amount of poignant commentary but this time around, it’s subservient to the humour of the story, to the sheer bloody eccentricity of it all, as characters Bauchelain, Korbal Broach and Emancipor Reese flung themselves – or sauntered towards – one strange event after the next. I dislike Korbal Broach. Something about this silent, murderous eunuch tickles me the wrong way but I am all too fond of both Bauchelain and Emancipor. Their interactions with one another and the world around them brought me joy, always. After a bit of scene-setting during the first novella, I began laughing. I laughed, and laughed, sometimes pausing in the span of a few pages, two or three or four, only to laugh more and harder and heartier than I did previously. I laughed through insane scenes of hyperviolence; through corpses raising from the dead to take vengeance on the living over too much healthy exercise; through the systematic dismemberment of a poor guardsman at the wrong boat at the worst possible time; through the ripping apart of a nun blamed for eating babies because of her sharpened teeth when in truth her teeth were rotten.
Did I mention this novella was morbid as sin itself?
My score? 4/5, since laughter well and truly cures everything – even death, judging by the heaps of corpses that that old joker, Bauchelain brings back around.
You’ll love this if:
• You like necromancy • You like necromancy memes • You want to put the romance back in neck-romance-y; • Even I cringed at that last one; • You have a weak spot for manservants who self-medicate; • And more, prob—no, that’s about it, actually....more