In its own Shadow
Tomb Raider (2015) made me a Tomb Raider fan. Despite being a Playstation owner and playing lots of video games in the timeframe when the original Tomb Raider was popular and hugely mainstream, I never got into it. Never even played it. But Tomb Raider (2015) got a ton of positive reviews and it was a fun action/stealth/Metroidvania-ish game that I loved, so I’ve been onboard for the sequels since. But something about Shadow of the Tomb Raider felt off.
As in all Tomb Raider games, you are Lara Croft, archaeologist, anthropologist, indistinct researcher of some sort, and you are still fighting Trinity, the Illuminati-esque villains who were responsible for your father’s death. This time, Croft’s exploits unintentionally but directly initiate the apocalypse. As natural disaster threatens to destroy the world, Croft has to stop the apocalypse, stop Trinity, and regain the trust of indigenous people whose still-living culture she is maybe plundering and maybe exploiting.
Shadow of the Tomb Raider dodges most of the “Croft forgot how to use the tools she acquired in previous games” problem of most Metroidvania sequels, but not all of them. Basic traversal stuff that was learned in previous games like rope arrows and some new tricks like rope rappelling are given from the start, but she has to learn how to use a shotgun to blow open some debris-covered doors? The new gates to progress also aren’t very convincing as they’re just stronger versions of stuff you already know. For example, doors you can open with a rope pull from the start also come in a variety where they use braided rope and you need a special rope ascender to open them. Okay, but you never use that rope ascender to, I don’t know, ascend a rope. It’s strictly for busting doors open. Another example is your makeshift knife. In the opening areas, it’s all you have because Croft survives a plane crash. But you quickly get back into civilization and yet you still can’t get through some doors because your knife isn’t tough enough. It’s a bit incongruent.
The action feels a bit loose too. Every encounter with an enemy seemed to either result in me dying immediately or easily dispatching the enemies with an assault rifle. Once stealth is broken, there’s almost no point in trying to go back into hiding, so I may as well put away the bow and start shooting. It is more satisfying to achieve the stealth puzzle of killing everyone without being spotted, but there’s no particular penalty for running in and noisily shooting everyone.
This all might sound like the gameplay is crap, and it’s not. It looks great, controls perfectly well as far as the platforming and movement go, and it’s still fun to explore the world and solve platforming puzzles. But I merely enjoyed it because I’ve seen this game before. The previous Tomb Raider games have done much of the same thing and better. Shadow of the Tomb Raider is a good game, where its predecessors were great.
The Math
Baseline Assessment: 7/10
Bonuses: +1 few games look better than this
Penalties: -1 doesn't achieve the same level of greatness as the previous games
Nerd Coefficient: 7/10 (an enjoyable experience, but not without its flaws)
***
POSTED BY: brian, sci-fi/fantasy/video game dork and contributor since 2014
Reference: Eidos Montreal. Shadow of the Tomb Raider [Square Enix, 2018]
Friday, December 28, 2018
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
Microreview [book]: The Six of Crows Duology by Leigh Bardugo
Got some holiday money to burn? Want a page-turner? I recommend Leigh Bardugo's duology.
Leigh
Bardugo’s bestselling Six of Crows
had everything from a compelling secondary Victorian world, likeable and unique
characters, kickass fight scenes, and a heist that kept me turning pages
regardless of the amount of grad school work waiting on my desk. Full
disclosure, I’m a sucker for con stories—all the Ocean’s flicks, The Sting,
Butch Cassidy and the Sun Dance Kid. Thankfully,
Six of Crows gave me inclusivity the
genre had been missing for me. Plus magic. Crooked
Kingdom continues the fun and thoughtfulness.
(Warning: Mild Spoilers for Six
of Crows to follow)
For
those who need a refresher, the hefty Six
of Crows introduced the crew that Bardugo continues to focus on throughout
book two: Kaz Brekker, the scruffy leader who has the brains and the brawling
skills to turn himself into a legendary ruffian; Inej, the former acrobatic who
now goes by the Wraith and is Kaz’s eyes and ears; Nina, a Grisha (Bardugo’s term
for magic users) who loves sweets and has a complicated relationship with the
man who tried to kill her; Matthias, a warrior trained to kill Grisha, who fell
in love with Nina; Jesper, a sharp-shooter with a gambling addiction; and
Wylan, a merchant’s son who ran away after his father tried to kill him.
Together, they complete an impossible heist with plenty of flash, as they would
call it.
I
embarked on the sequel, Crooked Kingdom,
with excitement and trepidation. The story centers on the characters we know,
but twists their screws, opening them up for the reader. Bardugo swaps point of
view in each chapter so we spend nearly equal time with all the characters’
thoughts and experiences, creating compelling backstories that weren’t as
evident in the first installment of the series, particularly for Jesper and
Wylan, the most two-dimensional characters from the first book.
At
it’s heart, Crooked Kingdom is
another con story with the location in the Victorian-esque city of Ketterdam
rather than the first book’s major Norwegian-esque local. The similar heist structure
makes the first half of the book a slow burn as Kaz schemes and cons to save
the captured Inej and reclaim their rightful prize stolen from them at the end
of the first book. Since most of the cons are successful at the beginning, the
story feels too easy—yes, we know Kaz is a brilliant heist man and has the best
crew in Ketterdam, et cetera. Bardugo uses these initial chapters to deepen
character relationships, particularly between Nina/Matthias and Jesper/Wylan,
but even so, Crooked Kingdom lacked
that page-turning excitement I so enjoyed in Six of Crows.
At
least, until the second half of the novel kicked into gear. I won’t spoil Kaz’s
cons for you, but suffice to say Bardugo introduces failure, the type Kaz can’t
keep ahead of. Kaz’s failure to imagine all possibilities also touches on his
childhood, particularly the death of his brother, so the heists become knit
into the fabric of Kaz’s personality, giving the outcome more weight than a
simple cash prize.
Bardugo
shines in conceiving of machinations for her characters that truly surprise and
delight me as a reader. While that trick felt a little heavy-handed in the first
book, Bardugo takes advantage of her pacing to fully unfold the city of
Ketterdam in the second book. In young adult literature, world-building isn’t
always the strongest element with a focus instead, and understandably so, on
character and plot. Perhaps because Bardugo has been writing in this fantasy
landscape for a while (her other trilogy also focuses on Grisha), the place
felt like a character. Zeroing in on Ketterdam and containing the characters in
the city allowed her to explore the political systems as well as groups like
the Council of Tides, who only have shadowy mentions until the end of Crooked Kingdom, where they have one of
the coolest reveals in the book. The plots and ploys explore all of the merchant
class with some nice digs at capitalistic systems (I particularly liked the
lengthy scenes where a beautiful cathedral is used as an auction block).
There’s
much to enjoy in this duology romp, but Bardugo doesn’t only leave the reader
with flash, as Kaz might say, but develops ideas of sexuality, abuse, touch,
phobia, and disability throughout the plot. Two of my favorite moments deal
with Kaz and Inej’s relationship but also their fears of intimacy, particularly
physical intimacy. These characters are only seventeen or eighteen—this book
could easily be shelved as “new adult”—but their scars do show. Young adult
literature has a bad habit of putting characters through terrible situations
but never following up on the trauma. The weight of the past haunts these
characters and shows as they try to steal all that Ketterdam has to offer.
The Math
Baseline
Assessment: 6/10
Bonuses:
+1 for two how the hell did Bardugo come
up with this!? moments, +1 for poking fun at capitalism
Penalties:
-1 for playing the con card a few too many times
Posted
by Phoebe Wagner
Bardugo,
Leigh. Six of Crows Duology [Henry Holt and Company, 2017]
Friday, December 21, 2018
Microreview [book]: Implanted, by Lauren C Teffeau
Lauren C Teffeau’s Implanted combines future cyberpunk beats with a climate changed ravaged future, a vertically oriented arcology setting, and a strong central character with a thriller chassis for an entertaining read.
In the enclosed arcology of New Worth, in the former state of Texas, the ravages of a climate change ravaged world are at bay. The residents in the vertically oriented space live and work in a interconnected, technologically oriented world. Everyone is curious if colonization of the outside or even if real life is possible outside of the arcologies. (reminding me of the underground cities in Carrie Patel’s Recoletta series, but at much higher tech level).
Enter student Emery Driscoll. She’s from the lower regions of the city, as those who are in power and wealth are higher up in this vertically oriented space. She has been trying to use her studies to better her life, to socially climb (in the literal way that it works in New Worth). Her plans to do so are disrupted, as her efforts to help someone in danger are used by a clandestine courier company who blackmails her into working for them and cutting off all of her ties. Now Emery has to carry sensitive information not trusted to network computers. Information that is securely stored in her very blood. When Emery realizes the import and danger that her newest data entails, information that could change the future of New Worth, and outside of it, Emery is suddenly put into difficult choices and a cat and mouse game with multiple factions.
This is the story of Lauren Teffeau’s Implanted.
The strength of the novel is Emily as a flawed, complicated character with lots of fiddly bits to her personality and story. Far from being a smooth operator when dropped into her new, unwelcome situation, and on the other hand, avoiding the trap of making her a completely clueless newbie without any skills, the author creates Emily as someone with strengths and weaknesses, in terms of skills and personality, that become plot relevant and interesting to her development and growth. Her desire to reconnect with her former life, damn the consequences, is a major driver of the plot as well.
The worldbuilding is intriguing as well. The world that Emery moves through is a complicated, complex and not entirely dystopic one. The citizens of New Worth, no matter where they live in the vertically oriented city, are, from their own points of view, fighting for a better life for themselves and their city. There is sharp disagreement over what that looks like, and some of the points of view are in the end not palatable at all, but they are relatable human goals The social aspects of her technology are the focus of the cyberpunk elements of the novel. In a modern social media world we live in today, it is social media and how people related to each other that the author reflects on and refracts into their future society. And all of this in the end feeds with the central question that overhangs the novel, even more than Emery's current problems: Can the outside be successfully colonized? Can the closed box nature of New Worth be changed?
Based on this book, I more than kind of want a version of the computer game Civilization where you start off with one city (arcology) and have to deal with a climate change ravaged Earth. You could even make it go off the rails and into the realms of pulpy science fiction with hazards not seen in the real world. But I think the challenges as the residents of New Worth have to deal with them would be more than enough to fill plenty of gameplay.
Some of the beats in the plotting, though, do feel a bit off, shifts in the terrain of the plot that seem to exist only for the sake of changing things up. Looking back at the plotting throughout, I did realize that the novel carried me through many of the issues I might have had at the time by dint of the strengths of the main character and the world that she inhabits. The novel works best as thought of in the moment as more of a thriller set in an intriguingly different future.
As noted above, the novel gets a lot of love from me for having the temerity to show a future where climate change has inexorably changed the world forever, but the society that has survived that climate change holocaust is not a paint by numbers dystopic hellscape. While New Worth has its issues and problems, the foundations the society are built on are hopeful--the idea that we can outlast the ravages of climate change, and one day, hopefully, return to retake the earth. This puts me in mind of how this novel sits in a space similar to Kelly Robson’s Gods, Monsters and the Lucky Peach where, too, humanity is tentatively exploring the reclamation of the Earth after a long period living in underground arcologies because of the ravages of climate change. It is straightforward, if not easy, to write novels that show a crapsack world ravaged by dystopic climate change and social breakdown. You can even write it well, and deeply (Seed by Rob Ziegler just as one of numerous examples). But it is a much harder tack to try to tackle such a future and come out on the other side with the bottom of
Teffeau’s Implanted manages to do just that.
---
The Math
Baseline Assessment: 7/10
Bonuses: +1 for a well rounded sympathetic central character
+1 for rich and immersive local worldbuilding
Penalties: -1 for some discordant notes in plotting
Nerd Coefficient: 8/10: well worth your time and attention
Reference: Teffeau, Lauren C, Implanted [Angry Robot Books, 2018]
POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.
In the enclosed arcology of New Worth, in the former state of Texas, the ravages of a climate change ravaged world are at bay. The residents in the vertically oriented space live and work in a interconnected, technologically oriented world. Everyone is curious if colonization of the outside or even if real life is possible outside of the arcologies. (reminding me of the underground cities in Carrie Patel’s Recoletta series, but at much higher tech level).
Enter student Emery Driscoll. She’s from the lower regions of the city, as those who are in power and wealth are higher up in this vertically oriented space. She has been trying to use her studies to better her life, to socially climb (in the literal way that it works in New Worth). Her plans to do so are disrupted, as her efforts to help someone in danger are used by a clandestine courier company who blackmails her into working for them and cutting off all of her ties. Now Emery has to carry sensitive information not trusted to network computers. Information that is securely stored in her very blood. When Emery realizes the import and danger that her newest data entails, information that could change the future of New Worth, and outside of it, Emery is suddenly put into difficult choices and a cat and mouse game with multiple factions.
This is the story of Lauren Teffeau’s Implanted.
The strength of the novel is Emily as a flawed, complicated character with lots of fiddly bits to her personality and story. Far from being a smooth operator when dropped into her new, unwelcome situation, and on the other hand, avoiding the trap of making her a completely clueless newbie without any skills, the author creates Emily as someone with strengths and weaknesses, in terms of skills and personality, that become plot relevant and interesting to her development and growth. Her desire to reconnect with her former life, damn the consequences, is a major driver of the plot as well.
The worldbuilding is intriguing as well. The world that Emery moves through is a complicated, complex and not entirely dystopic one. The citizens of New Worth, no matter where they live in the vertically oriented city, are, from their own points of view, fighting for a better life for themselves and their city. There is sharp disagreement over what that looks like, and some of the points of view are in the end not palatable at all, but they are relatable human goals The social aspects of her technology are the focus of the cyberpunk elements of the novel. In a modern social media world we live in today, it is social media and how people related to each other that the author reflects on and refracts into their future society. And all of this in the end feeds with the central question that overhangs the novel, even more than Emery's current problems: Can the outside be successfully colonized? Can the closed box nature of New Worth be changed?
Based on this book, I more than kind of want a version of the computer game Civilization where you start off with one city (arcology) and have to deal with a climate change ravaged Earth. You could even make it go off the rails and into the realms of pulpy science fiction with hazards not seen in the real world. But I think the challenges as the residents of New Worth have to deal with them would be more than enough to fill plenty of gameplay.
Some of the beats in the plotting, though, do feel a bit off, shifts in the terrain of the plot that seem to exist only for the sake of changing things up. Looking back at the plotting throughout, I did realize that the novel carried me through many of the issues I might have had at the time by dint of the strengths of the main character and the world that she inhabits. The novel works best as thought of in the moment as more of a thriller set in an intriguingly different future.
As noted above, the novel gets a lot of love from me for having the temerity to show a future where climate change has inexorably changed the world forever, but the society that has survived that climate change holocaust is not a paint by numbers dystopic hellscape. While New Worth has its issues and problems, the foundations the society are built on are hopeful--the idea that we can outlast the ravages of climate change, and one day, hopefully, return to retake the earth. This puts me in mind of how this novel sits in a space similar to Kelly Robson’s Gods, Monsters and the Lucky Peach where, too, humanity is tentatively exploring the reclamation of the Earth after a long period living in underground arcologies because of the ravages of climate change. It is straightforward, if not easy, to write novels that show a crapsack world ravaged by dystopic climate change and social breakdown. You can even write it well, and deeply (Seed by Rob Ziegler just as one of numerous examples). But it is a much harder tack to try to tackle such a future and come out on the other side with the bottom of
Teffeau’s Implanted manages to do just that.
---
The Math
Baseline Assessment: 7/10
Bonuses: +1 for a well rounded sympathetic central character
+1 for rich and immersive local worldbuilding
Penalties: -1 for some discordant notes in plotting
Nerd Coefficient: 8/10: well worth your time and attention
Reference: Teffeau, Lauren C, Implanted [Angry Robot Books, 2018]
POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.
Thursday, December 20, 2018
Thursday Morning Superhero: Year in Review
As we rapidly approach the new year it dawns on me that I may not have many more Thursday Morning Superhero posts in 2018. While it is a bit cliche to post an end of the year list, it is also valuable to reflect on what 2018 gifted us and see what will keep us excited reading into the new year. Attempting to narrow down your favorite books into a concise list is always a struggle, but here are the five books that had the biggest impact on me personally in 2018. They may not be the best books of 2018 and are presented in no particular order.
Gideon Falls by Jeff Lemire:
Inspired by Twin Peaks and a series that is being adapted for TV, Gideon Falls is a book that presents two stories that will at some point come to a head. One story is about Father Fred, a new priest who has arrived in Gideon Falls after the current priest recently passed away. The other follows a young man who is currently dealing with mental health issues that have him recovering hidden pieced of a mysterious Black Barn throughout town. Norton and Fred could not be more diametrically opposed characters who are seeking a greater understanding in this mysterious town. I have always been endeared the horror genre in comics and have always been drawn into the characters that Lemire creates. At one point I almost had his phenomenal hockey story Essex County on my syllabus as required reading in a sport management class. The dichotomy of rural and urban play is extremely effective and artist Andrea Sorrentino really brings this series to life. I cannot wait to see what 2019 has in store for the town of Gideon Falls.
Daredevil by Charles Soule:
I started to fall in love with the Man without Fear during Mark Waid's run on the series starting in 2011. The series has had its ups and downs as most ongoing books do, but Soule's run in 2018 brought Matt Murdock back to his roots in Hell's Kitchen. In addition to finding a way to put the rabbit back in the hat in terms of everyone knowing his secret identity, Soule was able to focus on the relationships that are surrounding Murdock and how his decisions impact those he loves. I also enjoyed the current arc that is eerily similar to the situation in White House. As someone who is a bit of a news junkie, I enjoyed the balance between Murdock attempting to work with and investigate Kingpin at the same time. I am not sure where his run will end up in the big picture, but it reinvigorated my love for Daredevil and has me excited about the passing of the torch in 2019.
Babyteeth by Donny Cates:
As I mentioned earlier, I have a soft spot for horror books and an even softer spot for young parents. When I learned that Cates was writing a book that centered around the birth of the Anti-Christ and the impact it had on its young mother. I wasn't prepared for the world building that Cates would bring and how emotionally connected I would be drawn to Sadie. Her struggle with her own family and dealing with her child resonated with me in a profound way. It is a book that can be difficult to read at some points, in a good way, and a series that I highly recommend. After the recent trip into the Red Realm and what this means for Sadie, her child, and her family I am anxiously awaiting this book to return in 2019.
Darth Vader by Charles Soule:
Soule returns on my list for penning my favorite Star Wars book since Marvel regained the rights. I probably sound like a broken record, but Soule's ability to make Vader a truly menacing villain and showcase his incredible power in the Force has brought me a new found respect for Vader. It is consistently the best Star Wars book on the market and spawned a phenomenal spin-off in Doctor Aphra which nearly made the cut for this list. There are so many memorable moments including using mind control on a giant squid in issue #15 and the sheer terror he invokes in the Inquisitors. The arc that brought Vader under water to deal with the Mon Cala was particularly memorable. Since we don't have a new Star Wars movie this Christmas I am very much looking forward to reading new Star Wars material in 2019.
Dept. H by Matt and Sharlene Kindt:
This underwater whodunit from a duo of Kindts came to a fitting conclusion in 2018. It all began when Mia had to journey to an underwater research base after her father was murdered. While the premise the drove the series was attempting to solve who murdered her father, the heart of the book was Mia coming to terms with the relationship she had with her father. We learned about this through a series of flashbacks that really set the tone of the book. In addition to the murder mystery there was extra suspense as it related to a potential pandemic associated with a virus that was working its way towards the surface. Matt and Sharlene's art on this book really added to the tone and the design of the underwater contraptions was a highlight throughout this series. I started appreciating Matt's watercolor technique in Mind MGMT and was thrilled to see a similar style that really added to the mystery. Definitely a book that deserves the deluxe trade paperback treatment and one you should all consider gifting to your comic reading loved ones.
POSTED BY MIKE N. aka Victor Domashev -- comic guy, proudly raising nerdy kids, and Nerds of a Feather contributor since 2012.
Gideon Falls by Jeff Lemire:
Inspired by Twin Peaks and a series that is being adapted for TV, Gideon Falls is a book that presents two stories that will at some point come to a head. One story is about Father Fred, a new priest who has arrived in Gideon Falls after the current priest recently passed away. The other follows a young man who is currently dealing with mental health issues that have him recovering hidden pieced of a mysterious Black Barn throughout town. Norton and Fred could not be more diametrically opposed characters who are seeking a greater understanding in this mysterious town. I have always been endeared the horror genre in comics and have always been drawn into the characters that Lemire creates. At one point I almost had his phenomenal hockey story Essex County on my syllabus as required reading in a sport management class. The dichotomy of rural and urban play is extremely effective and artist Andrea Sorrentino really brings this series to life. I cannot wait to see what 2019 has in store for the town of Gideon Falls.
Daredevil by Charles Soule:
I started to fall in love with the Man without Fear during Mark Waid's run on the series starting in 2011. The series has had its ups and downs as most ongoing books do, but Soule's run in 2018 brought Matt Murdock back to his roots in Hell's Kitchen. In addition to finding a way to put the rabbit back in the hat in terms of everyone knowing his secret identity, Soule was able to focus on the relationships that are surrounding Murdock and how his decisions impact those he loves. I also enjoyed the current arc that is eerily similar to the situation in White House. As someone who is a bit of a news junkie, I enjoyed the balance between Murdock attempting to work with and investigate Kingpin at the same time. I am not sure where his run will end up in the big picture, but it reinvigorated my love for Daredevil and has me excited about the passing of the torch in 2019.
Babyteeth by Donny Cates:
As I mentioned earlier, I have a soft spot for horror books and an even softer spot for young parents. When I learned that Cates was writing a book that centered around the birth of the Anti-Christ and the impact it had on its young mother. I wasn't prepared for the world building that Cates would bring and how emotionally connected I would be drawn to Sadie. Her struggle with her own family and dealing with her child resonated with me in a profound way. It is a book that can be difficult to read at some points, in a good way, and a series that I highly recommend. After the recent trip into the Red Realm and what this means for Sadie, her child, and her family I am anxiously awaiting this book to return in 2019.
Darth Vader by Charles Soule:
Soule returns on my list for penning my favorite Star Wars book since Marvel regained the rights. I probably sound like a broken record, but Soule's ability to make Vader a truly menacing villain and showcase his incredible power in the Force has brought me a new found respect for Vader. It is consistently the best Star Wars book on the market and spawned a phenomenal spin-off in Doctor Aphra which nearly made the cut for this list. There are so many memorable moments including using mind control on a giant squid in issue #15 and the sheer terror he invokes in the Inquisitors. The arc that brought Vader under water to deal with the Mon Cala was particularly memorable. Since we don't have a new Star Wars movie this Christmas I am very much looking forward to reading new Star Wars material in 2019.
Dept. H by Matt and Sharlene Kindt:
This underwater whodunit from a duo of Kindts came to a fitting conclusion in 2018. It all began when Mia had to journey to an underwater research base after her father was murdered. While the premise the drove the series was attempting to solve who murdered her father, the heart of the book was Mia coming to terms with the relationship she had with her father. We learned about this through a series of flashbacks that really set the tone of the book. In addition to the murder mystery there was extra suspense as it related to a potential pandemic associated with a virus that was working its way towards the surface. Matt and Sharlene's art on this book really added to the tone and the design of the underwater contraptions was a highlight throughout this series. I started appreciating Matt's watercolor technique in Mind MGMT and was thrilled to see a similar style that really added to the mystery. Definitely a book that deserves the deluxe trade paperback treatment and one you should all consider gifting to your comic reading loved ones.
POSTED BY MIKE N. aka Victor Domashev -- comic guy, proudly raising nerdy kids, and Nerds of a Feather contributor since 2012.
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
Born to the Blade: Episodes 9 & 10
After a long absence, we return to my look at Michael R. Underwood's consistently
excellent serial Born to the Blade. Following my thoughts on
Episodes 7 & 8 (see here), we continue on with episodes 9 and 10, written by Malka Older and and Marie Brennan, respectively.
Episode 9: Assassination
The titular assassination is a bit of a tease if taken literally because the assassination in question does not occur until the final paragraphs of the episode. If taken figuratively, Malka Older could be referring to the overall assassination of peace that has been ongoing now for several episodes of Born to the Blade and now with the formal declaration of war, that peace has been shattered. I wonder about titles, sometimes.
Knowing the little bit that I do of Malka Older (at least as she presents herself online), I am not surprised by how gracefully she handles the growing refugee crisis on Twaa-Fei. Resources are being overwhelmed, tensions are escalating, but the refugees are not a faceless mass of invaders. They're people and Older writes them as such, even in the limited space she has for this episode and with all of the other work she has to do to propel the larger narrative forward. It's a fantastic piece of writing and "Assassination" might be my favorite episode of Born to the Blade so far.
Older also smoothly handles the politics of this episode. From the early formal declaration of war by the Merkitan Empire against Quloo to the dinner party thrown by the more junior Merkitan warder for all of the other warders, despite the war they just declared, it's an impressive balancing act of Older fitting all the pieces together. Is the party high level diplomacy or a show of supremacy? Maybe it's both.
Episode 10: Shattered Blades
Born to the Blade, in some ways, is warfare writ small. It's aggression between diplomats, chaos on the island of Twaa-Fei, assassination attempts, and duels in place of large scale warfare. We know there is a larger war raging beyond the shores of Twaa-Fei, but "Shattered Blades" is about the personal stories.
Those personal stories, of course, are told through and around the best fight sequences in any of the episodes of Born to the Blade (and perhaps in just about any other story). Brennan absolutely nails the two major duels of "Shattered Blades". This episode is not just about the fighting, but damn, the duels are so damned good. But, so is the everything. Dealing with the fallout of the assassination attempt from the previous episode is powerful and meaningful for change and moving the story along. "Shattered Blades" is among the best episodes in a very strong season of Born to the Blade.
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 & 2018 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
Episode 9: Assassination
The titular assassination is a bit of a tease if taken literally because the assassination in question does not occur until the final paragraphs of the episode. If taken figuratively, Malka Older could be referring to the overall assassination of peace that has been ongoing now for several episodes of Born to the Blade and now with the formal declaration of war, that peace has been shattered. I wonder about titles, sometimes.
Knowing the little bit that I do of Malka Older (at least as she presents herself online), I am not surprised by how gracefully she handles the growing refugee crisis on Twaa-Fei. Resources are being overwhelmed, tensions are escalating, but the refugees are not a faceless mass of invaders. They're people and Older writes them as such, even in the limited space she has for this episode and with all of the other work she has to do to propel the larger narrative forward. It's a fantastic piece of writing and "Assassination" might be my favorite episode of Born to the Blade so far.
Older also smoothly handles the politics of this episode. From the early formal declaration of war by the Merkitan Empire against Quloo to the dinner party thrown by the more junior Merkitan warder for all of the other warders, despite the war they just declared, it's an impressive balancing act of Older fitting all the pieces together. Is the party high level diplomacy or a show of supremacy? Maybe it's both.
Episode 10: Shattered Blades
Born to the Blade, in some ways, is warfare writ small. It's aggression between diplomats, chaos on the island of Twaa-Fei, assassination attempts, and duels in place of large scale warfare. We know there is a larger war raging beyond the shores of Twaa-Fei, but "Shattered Blades" is about the personal stories.
Those personal stories, of course, are told through and around the best fight sequences in any of the episodes of Born to the Blade (and perhaps in just about any other story). Brennan absolutely nails the two major duels of "Shattered Blades". This episode is not just about the fighting, but damn, the duels are so damned good. But, so is the everything. Dealing with the fallout of the assassination attempt from the previous episode is powerful and meaningful for change and moving the story along. "Shattered Blades" is among the best episodes in a very strong season of Born to the Blade.
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 & 2018 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Nanoreviews: Kingdom of Needle and Bone, Alice Payne Arrives, State Tectonics
Grant, Mira. Kingdom of Needle and Bone [Subterranean Press]
Kingdom of Needle and Bone is a bit more didactic than I've come to expect from Mira Grant. The opening of the novella leans hard on the anti-vaccination movement and Grant doesn't much let up. She grounds her story with horrifying science, how outbreaks and pandemic spread, and ties into into the grief of one particular family. The, and only then, Grant twists the knife in what the spread of "Morris' Disease" means for the world. Kingdom of Needle and Bone is gripping, horrifying, and excellent. As Mira Grant does.
Score: 7/10
Heartfield, Kate. Alice Payne Arrives [Tor.com Publishing]
Alice Payne Arrives is a pure delight from start to finish. This is a time travel story where factions from the future are working at odds to write / re-write the past in order to get the future just right. We learn early on that Prudence has lived the same day over and over and over again in the attempt to nudge future history just right and nail her objective. Time travel isn't easy. Alice is a biracial noblewoman in England who just happens to be moonlighting as a highwayman, robbing those wealthy who have done wrong. Sort of a robin hood figure, except that she's paying off her father's debts. Alice gets tumbled into the time mess and between Prudence and Alice we have two formidable and delightful characters to follow. Kate Heartfield's novella is breezily serious and I immediately wanted more.
Score: 8/10
Older, Malka. State Tectonics [Tor.com Publishing]
If taken as something that is important by itself, the execution of the plot of State Tectonics is perhaps less effective than its description: there is a rebellion and conspiracy against Information, the Google / UN / Election Management / All Knowing / All Seeing organization. Where Malka Older shines is the working out of her ideas about democracy / micro democracy, politics, the power of information (lower case), self determination, corporations as governments, and so much more. All in a tight package.
While I understand that history is not a straight line towards progress and better and more equitable societies, Malka Older offers optimism of what one way forward might look like while being open about the challenges. If this is the future of democracy, I think it's one worth striving for and moving beyond simple national boundaries.
Score: 8/10
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 & 2018 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
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Monday, December 17, 2018
Microreview [Book] Ink by Sabrina Vourvoulias
Among the ranks of Butler and Atwood, Ink portrays a future that seems all too close for comfort.
Imagine a world where a tattoo determines your citizen status. Ink follows Finn, a reporter for a struggling newspaper as he works (and falls in love with) an informant named Mari. Written in a noir style (though rising to lyricism throughout), it's hard not to imagine this book in classic black and white. What separates it from other near-future dystopias (if we can even call it that considering the current political climate) is the "magic" based on Latin American history. Throughout the novel, Mari's jaguar "twin" washes over her features at times and guides her when the world is too much.
While the novel opens with a focus on Finn the reporter and his informant-turned-lover Mari, it continues expanding into four point-of-view characters each occupying a different role in not only the story but in the world. Abbie is the daughter of a woman organizing the new internment camps for "inks" and Del is part of a local business that hires temporary workers. As their stories grow closer together and intertwine, Mari grows in her power but also her ability as a storyteller. Fairy tales whether true or false, become another form of escape.
Ten years ago when Ink first hit shelves, it would have been a difficult read. Now, the images of tattoos, GPS trackers, internment camps, border dumps are all too mainstream. Just like Twitter in the novel, these stories fill my timeline. This past weekend, a brief discussion popped up on my timeline regarding good speculative fiction: it's not meant to predict the future but warn against a type of future. Ten years ago, just coming off the Bush presidency, immigration, racism, sexism, and so on, weren't great, either, but Ink warned against a certain future. Plenty of people listened and worked diligently to avert it, particularly in communities of color, but here we are. It can get worse, as Ink shows, and this warning should ring loud to the people and communities systematically empowered (that's us, white folks).
It's hard not to talk about social justice as this new edition comes out, but that's also a disservice to Vourvoulias' work. Much like Atwood's Handmaid's Tale or Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower, this novel is incredibly engaging. It's fast paced, action-packed, full of myth and magic and truth, and displays Vourvoulias' talent as a writer as she navigates four distinct points-of-view and these characters' engaging voices. While the subject matter hits hard, the novel is an adventure.
Imagine a world where a tattoo determines your citizen status. Ink follows Finn, a reporter for a struggling newspaper as he works (and falls in love with) an informant named Mari. Written in a noir style (though rising to lyricism throughout), it's hard not to imagine this book in classic black and white. What separates it from other near-future dystopias (if we can even call it that considering the current political climate) is the "magic" based on Latin American history. Throughout the novel, Mari's jaguar "twin" washes over her features at times and guides her when the world is too much.
While the novel opens with a focus on Finn the reporter and his informant-turned-lover Mari, it continues expanding into four point-of-view characters each occupying a different role in not only the story but in the world. Abbie is the daughter of a woman organizing the new internment camps for "inks" and Del is part of a local business that hires temporary workers. As their stories grow closer together and intertwine, Mari grows in her power but also her ability as a storyteller. Fairy tales whether true or false, become another form of escape.
Ten years ago when Ink first hit shelves, it would have been a difficult read. Now, the images of tattoos, GPS trackers, internment camps, border dumps are all too mainstream. Just like Twitter in the novel, these stories fill my timeline. This past weekend, a brief discussion popped up on my timeline regarding good speculative fiction: it's not meant to predict the future but warn against a type of future. Ten years ago, just coming off the Bush presidency, immigration, racism, sexism, and so on, weren't great, either, but Ink warned against a certain future. Plenty of people listened and worked diligently to avert it, particularly in communities of color, but here we are. It can get worse, as Ink shows, and this warning should ring loud to the people and communities systematically empowered (that's us, white folks).
It's hard not to talk about social justice as this new edition comes out, but that's also a disservice to Vourvoulias' work. Much like Atwood's Handmaid's Tale or Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower, this novel is incredibly engaging. It's fast paced, action-packed, full of myth and magic and truth, and displays Vourvoulias' talent as a writer as she navigates four distinct points-of-view and these characters' engaging voices. While the subject matter hits hard, the novel is an adventure.
The Math
Baseline
Assessment: 9/10
Bonuses:
+1 for being one of those books that is an IMPORTANT READ in this day and age, if you feel me.
Reference: Vourvoulias, Sabrina. Ink [Rosarium Publishing, 2nd Edition, 2018]
Posted by Phoebe Wagner
Posted by Phoebe Wagner
Friday, December 14, 2018
Microreview [book]: In the Vanisher's Palace by Aliette de Bodard
Aliette De Bodard’s In the Vanishers' Palace provides an entirely new spin on an old story, bringing her multivariate strengths in genre writing to bear in a enthralling novella.
The story of the Beauty and the Beast, bound relationship to a monster as a price for a service or favor, is a story that spans the globe, and strikes at the heart of a lot of myths and tropes about family relationships, gender politics, power dynamics, autonomy, freedom, choice and a whole lot more. Beauty and the Beast is far more than dancing animated clocks and the song “Be Our Guest”. In The Vanishers' Palace, Aliette de Bodard takes the Beauty and the Beast story in new directions, giving a strong critique of some of the tropes, interrogating others, and providing a queer friendly narrative, amongst many other strands, in a densely packed novella.
In the Vanishers' Palace is ultimately the story of Yên, a young woman in the village, the “Beauty” and Vu Côn, the latter being the Dragon, the “Beast”. It is their interspecies, queer relationship that is the heart of the novella, as Yên, as the price for the Dragon performing a service of healing for a member of the village, is carried off to where the Dragon dwells, the titular Vanisher’s Palace.
The relationship map starts there and spirals outward on both sides. Yên and her mother have a very tense and strained relationship, to say the least, with the members of the village and their status within it is tenuous and perilously close to expulsion or worse. That fraught set of relationships is extended, for Yên, when her role at the Palace is made clear--to become a teacher for Vu Côn’s twin children, Dan Thông and Dan Liên. Young, rambunctious, curious, inventive, eager and prodigal dragons are quite the challenge for an “indifferent scholar” such as Yên to suddenly have to deal with, especially since they have their own plans and ideas and a complex relationship with their mother. The relationship dynamics, quite frankly, is a major reason to read De Bodard’s work and if you want your fantasy full of complex and interesting character beats and evolving relationships (above and beyond the ultimate queer romance between human and dragon), she is the author you have waiting to read and this book is the book to get hooked into what she does on those fronts.
And there is a ton of excellent immersive worldbuilding here going on too. I also enjoy the richness of her worlds, from the small details described to evoke place and time, be it an impoverished village or the weird wonders of the Palace, all the way to how and why she builds her worlds. She has a magic system that slowly gets spooled out for the reader to understand, to cypher, to become a scholar of even as the main character learns and grows in that sphere. There are the inhuman, alien, weird, and enthralling rooms and sheer odd spaces of the Vanishers' Palace itself. Yên is in a dangerous place in this palace, and soon learns that warnings to beware certain aspects of the palace are far from idle ones. The Palace is a multidimensional phantasmagoria of a place, inspired by Southeast Asian culture and Escher prints alike.
And then there is the wrapper of the entire milieu and setting that is revealed as the novella goes. This is, as it soon comes out, a post-apocalyptic magicpunk sort of world, where a high civilization of magitech collapsed, leaving a very dark and dangerous world, full of perils and threats. Why couldn’t Yên and her mother easily leave the village, given that they were oppressed there? Because the world outside the points of light of villages is a dark and fallen and dangerous place (this reminds me of her Fallen novels and stories in this regard), and to travel outside the villages is immensely dangerous. Vu Côn herself, and the Palace are tied to the fallen civilization, themselves, in ways they do not quite understand or admit even to themselves. The Vanishers' legacy, then, hangs over everyone and everything. By using this, Aliette provides a polished bronze mirror to look into and see a fantastical world in the reflection thereby.
In the Vanishers' Palace provides all that one might want out of an Aliette de Bodard (including a mention of fish sauce!) and serves as a strong piece of her oeuvre. It provides, at novella length, a way to get a sense of some of the themes, language, style and concerns of her work that offers a key to immersing oneself in the oeuvre of one of the leading lights of fantasy and science fiction today.
---
The Math
Baseline Assessment 7/10
Bonuses : +1 for enthralling writing
+1 for rich and immersive worldbuilding
+1 for a completely successful reinterpretation of an old trope
Penalties : -1 for a little bit of wavering in plotting
Nerd Coefficient: 9/10 very high quality/standout in its category
Reference: de Bodard, Aliette, In the Vanishers' Palace [JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.,2018]
POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.
The story of the Beauty and the Beast, bound relationship to a monster as a price for a service or favor, is a story that spans the globe, and strikes at the heart of a lot of myths and tropes about family relationships, gender politics, power dynamics, autonomy, freedom, choice and a whole lot more. Beauty and the Beast is far more than dancing animated clocks and the song “Be Our Guest”. In The Vanishers' Palace, Aliette de Bodard takes the Beauty and the Beast story in new directions, giving a strong critique of some of the tropes, interrogating others, and providing a queer friendly narrative, amongst many other strands, in a densely packed novella.
In the Vanishers' Palace is ultimately the story of Yên, a young woman in the village, the “Beauty” and Vu Côn, the latter being the Dragon, the “Beast”. It is their interspecies, queer relationship that is the heart of the novella, as Yên, as the price for the Dragon performing a service of healing for a member of the village, is carried off to where the Dragon dwells, the titular Vanisher’s Palace.
The relationship map starts there and spirals outward on both sides. Yên and her mother have a very tense and strained relationship, to say the least, with the members of the village and their status within it is tenuous and perilously close to expulsion or worse. That fraught set of relationships is extended, for Yên, when her role at the Palace is made clear--to become a teacher for Vu Côn’s twin children, Dan Thông and Dan Liên. Young, rambunctious, curious, inventive, eager and prodigal dragons are quite the challenge for an “indifferent scholar” such as Yên to suddenly have to deal with, especially since they have their own plans and ideas and a complex relationship with their mother. The relationship dynamics, quite frankly, is a major reason to read De Bodard’s work and if you want your fantasy full of complex and interesting character beats and evolving relationships (above and beyond the ultimate queer romance between human and dragon), she is the author you have waiting to read and this book is the book to get hooked into what she does on those fronts.
And there is a ton of excellent immersive worldbuilding here going on too. I also enjoy the richness of her worlds, from the small details described to evoke place and time, be it an impoverished village or the weird wonders of the Palace, all the way to how and why she builds her worlds. She has a magic system that slowly gets spooled out for the reader to understand, to cypher, to become a scholar of even as the main character learns and grows in that sphere. There are the inhuman, alien, weird, and enthralling rooms and sheer odd spaces of the Vanishers' Palace itself. Yên is in a dangerous place in this palace, and soon learns that warnings to beware certain aspects of the palace are far from idle ones. The Palace is a multidimensional phantasmagoria of a place, inspired by Southeast Asian culture and Escher prints alike.
And then there is the wrapper of the entire milieu and setting that is revealed as the novella goes. This is, as it soon comes out, a post-apocalyptic magicpunk sort of world, where a high civilization of magitech collapsed, leaving a very dark and dangerous world, full of perils and threats. Why couldn’t Yên and her mother easily leave the village, given that they were oppressed there? Because the world outside the points of light of villages is a dark and fallen and dangerous place (this reminds me of her Fallen novels and stories in this regard), and to travel outside the villages is immensely dangerous. Vu Côn herself, and the Palace are tied to the fallen civilization, themselves, in ways they do not quite understand or admit even to themselves. The Vanishers' legacy, then, hangs over everyone and everything. By using this, Aliette provides a polished bronze mirror to look into and see a fantastical world in the reflection thereby.
In the Vanishers' Palace provides all that one might want out of an Aliette de Bodard (including a mention of fish sauce!) and serves as a strong piece of her oeuvre. It provides, at novella length, a way to get a sense of some of the themes, language, style and concerns of her work that offers a key to immersing oneself in the oeuvre of one of the leading lights of fantasy and science fiction today.
---
The Math
Baseline Assessment 7/10
Bonuses : +1 for enthralling writing
+1 for rich and immersive worldbuilding
+1 for a completely successful reinterpretation of an old trope
Penalties : -1 for a little bit of wavering in plotting
Nerd Coefficient: 9/10 very high quality/standout in its category
Reference: de Bodard, Aliette, In the Vanishers' Palace [JABberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.,2018]
POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.
Thursday, December 13, 2018
Thursday Morning Superhero
While the news is about a month old, I don't think I have shared that Hulu ordered a pilot based on Sweet Tooth by Jeff Lemire! Lemire is one of my favorite creators and Sweet Tooth is in my top 5 comics of all time. I am curious to see how the comic will translate to the small screen and hope this gets picked up.
Pick of the Week:
The Batman Who Laughs #1 - When I learned that Scott Snyder was teaming up with Jock for a new Batman miniseries that brought shades of horror back to the Dark Knight I was quite excited. I am happy to report that the first issue didn't disappoint as Batman is now confronted with a Joker/Batman hybrid from another realm. Apparently Joker, no matter what the realm, has a fail safe that will release Joker toxin if anyone were to actually kill him. The Batman in the other realm was successful and is now a Batman who has been poisoned by the Joker toxin and is a force to be reckoned with. Nobody is sure why he has made the trip to this realm, but it isn't good and Batman is desperate to team up with his Joker in a feeble attempt to stop this mad man. Definitely a bit cliche, teaming up with your arch nemesis, but cliche plays well in Batman and I am curious to see where this is headed.
The Rest:
Miles Morales: Spider-Man #1 - In preparation for the movie that is coming out this weekend I thought I should read some Miles Morales. I haven't read any since he debuted many years ago and a reboot is the perfect time to start! Saladin Ahmed does a great job reacquainting the reader with some events in the past that have led Miles to his current predicament. In addition to learning about Miles' school, friends, and personal life, we are taught a bit about his family and are led into the story that is going to drive the first arc. It contains spoilers so I won't go into details, but it is an interesting premise that brought The Rhino to town and I am excited to read more. I will likely share this book with my son who is very excited to see the new movie this weekend.
Birthright #34 - We are reaching a turning point for this series and Mikey is forced to confront his younger brother who has been taken over by a magical toxic brought by the witch Kallista. Mikey refuses to fight his brother and we are treated with flashbacks of their relationship prior to Mikey's disappearance. This was an interesting issue, and while it contained its fair share of violence, really focused on the relationship between two brothers. Despite their differences and how much they have changed due to recent events, they remain connected by a powerful bond. I am a bit worried for what will happen in the next issue, but excited to see Joshua Williamson start to steer this series towards its conclusion in issue #50.
POSTED BY MIKE N. aka Victor Domashev -- comic guy, proudly raising nerdy kids, and Nerds of a Feather contributor since 2012.
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
Recent Recommended Short Fiction, December 2018
As an SFF fan who gravitates towards novels for the bulk of their reading, I am now used to the annual panic of reaching the end of the year, when recommended reading lists start coming out and people start thinking about their Hugo nominations, and realising that I've barely scratched the surface of the excellent short fiction that has come out. In the second half of this year, I've got better at doing something about it - I've taken some time to curate and make sure that I'm reading the subscriptions I have, in formats that I like (i.e. ebooks - web-based fiction reading is a big nope for me). I'm happy to report that the effort has paid off, and it means I have some recommendations to share!
Not So Stories, edited by David Thomas Moore
As the name suggests, this collection from Saga Press riffs off Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories, but through a lens which explicitly addresses and unpacks the colonial legacy of those stories and the wider implications of having a white Edwardian impose and define the folklore of another continent for generations of young people. The result is a mix of "animal fables" and human narratives, with the defining thread being about stories and storytelling rather than the exact form of the Just So Stories. Although the jumps between "timeless" animal fables and more contemporary tales are a little jarring at points, this is still a well-curated collection that was very easy to get through in one sitting, and there's a range of talents on display here. For example, "How the Ants got their Queen" is, on the surface, a straightforward retelling of the history of colonialism and of the history of nations after the colonial power leaves, but the style and the reimagining as a story of ants and pangolins makes it one of the strongest stories in the collection. "Queen", by Joseph E. Cole, is another great entry (and an author debut!), telling of a meeting between the Queen and a young girl, and the story which the Queen imparts. There's also some wonderful "lighthearted" entries including "How the Camel Got Her Paid Time Off" by Paul Krueger, "How the Tree of Wishes gained its Carapace of Plastic" by Jeanette Ng, and Zina Hutton's cat-based story of gods and belonging, "Strays Like Us".
Not So Stories, edited by David Thomas Moore
As the name suggests, this collection from Saga Press riffs off Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories, but through a lens which explicitly addresses and unpacks the colonial legacy of those stories and the wider implications of having a white Edwardian impose and define the folklore of another continent for generations of young people. The result is a mix of "animal fables" and human narratives, with the defining thread being about stories and storytelling rather than the exact form of the Just So Stories. Although the jumps between "timeless" animal fables and more contemporary tales are a little jarring at points, this is still a well-curated collection that was very easy to get through in one sitting, and there's a range of talents on display here. For example, "How the Ants got their Queen" is, on the surface, a straightforward retelling of the history of colonialism and of the history of nations after the colonial power leaves, but the style and the reimagining as a story of ants and pangolins makes it one of the strongest stories in the collection. "Queen", by Joseph E. Cole, is another great entry (and an author debut!), telling of a meeting between the Queen and a young girl, and the story which the Queen imparts. There's also some wonderful "lighthearted" entries including "How the Camel Got Her Paid Time Off" by Paul Krueger, "How the Tree of Wishes gained its Carapace of Plastic" by Jeanette Ng, and Zina Hutton's cat-based story of gods and belonging, "Strays Like Us".
Rating: 7/10
Uncanny Magazine Issue 25, edited by Lynne M. Thomas, Michael Damien Thomas and Michi Trota. (Read online for free!)
Uncanny is an institution with a deservedly beloved place in genre fiction at the moment, and this, the first issue in their fifth year of operations, is about as close to perfect as I can imagine a single magazine issue being (a feat which is particularly impressive given it comes on the heels of the Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction issue, which also had a great deal to recommend it.) In "How to Swallow the Moon", Isabel Yap kicks off the issue with a fairytale retelling drawing on Filipino myths about the bakanawa - a moon-eating serpent - as part of a queer coming-of-age love story with twists that will be satisfying to anyone who enjoys this form of myth-exploration. There's also a T. Kingfisher story which is sure to be an instant hit, particularly with those who like the more ribald notes of humour in her other work. "The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society" is based around various males of the magical persuasion getting together to commiserate about Rose, the woman who got exactly what she wanted - without any pesky heartbreak or murder - out of their various fey liaisons. Also in the issue are a Sofia Samatar reprint, some great short fiction from Monica Valentinelli and Cassandra Khaw, and an insightful essay about Diana M. Pho about how writing fanfiction has shaped their work as an editor (and some poetry, which I'm absolutely no good at analysing the quality of, but hey, poetry!)
Uncanny Magazine Issue 25, edited by Lynne M. Thomas, Michael Damien Thomas and Michi Trota. (Read online for free!)
Uncanny is an institution with a deservedly beloved place in genre fiction at the moment, and this, the first issue in their fifth year of operations, is about as close to perfect as I can imagine a single magazine issue being (a feat which is particularly impressive given it comes on the heels of the Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction issue, which also had a great deal to recommend it.) In "How to Swallow the Moon", Isabel Yap kicks off the issue with a fairytale retelling drawing on Filipino myths about the bakanawa - a moon-eating serpent - as part of a queer coming-of-age love story with twists that will be satisfying to anyone who enjoys this form of myth-exploration. There's also a T. Kingfisher story which is sure to be an instant hit, particularly with those who like the more ribald notes of humour in her other work. "The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society" is based around various males of the magical persuasion getting together to commiserate about Rose, the woman who got exactly what she wanted - without any pesky heartbreak or murder - out of their various fey liaisons. Also in the issue are a Sofia Samatar reprint, some great short fiction from Monica Valentinelli and Cassandra Khaw, and an insightful essay about Diana M. Pho about how writing fanfiction has shaped their work as an editor (and some poetry, which I'm absolutely no good at analysing the quality of, but hey, poetry!)
For me, though, the standout was "The Thing About Ghost Stories" by Naomi Kritzer: a story about a researcher who catalogues stories of the supernatural, and how this leads to final contact with her mother, who recently died after a period of living with Alzheimer's. Kritzer has such a wonderful light touch as an author, letting the main character cope with the grief of losing her mother -- to an illness where much of her was already "lost" before her passing -- in a way that feels real without being heavy. I think short fiction soars when stories pair interesting supernatural (or science fictional) ideas with evocative emotional content, and Kritzer crafts an outstanding example of that here.
Rating: 9/10
Awakenings, edited by The Book Smugglers. (Read online for free!)
Like many, I was sorry to see the Book Smugglers' announcement that their publishing wing will be closing at the end of December, but 2018 is a hell of a year for them to go out on, with six strong stories ranging from short to novella, all collected in this year's-end anthology. It's a lineup that showcases what I like most about the Book Smugglers' editorial line: their eye for diversity, for emotionally driven stories without easy answers, and for young adult themes like coming-of-age within the short fiction world. As you'd expect, "Awakenings" gets a pretty broad interpretation across the stories here, which range from epic fantasy to alt-historical first contact to transhumanism and stories of magic school. It's perhaps a more painful collection than I was expecting; it turns out some "awakenings" lead us only to death or pain, and others can be ambiguous at best. Still, nothing feels forced or unearned, and if one story ("Timshala" by Leah Cypess, the only novella of the bunch) feels like it ends right at the point the fun should start, that's a narrative decision that's given plenty of in-text justification.
Rating: 9/10
Awakenings, edited by The Book Smugglers. (Read online for free!)
Like many, I was sorry to see the Book Smugglers' announcement that their publishing wing will be closing at the end of December, but 2018 is a hell of a year for them to go out on, with six strong stories ranging from short to novella, all collected in this year's-end anthology. It's a lineup that showcases what I like most about the Book Smugglers' editorial line: their eye for diversity, for emotionally driven stories without easy answers, and for young adult themes like coming-of-age within the short fiction world. As you'd expect, "Awakenings" gets a pretty broad interpretation across the stories here, which range from epic fantasy to alt-historical first contact to transhumanism and stories of magic school. It's perhaps a more painful collection than I was expecting; it turns out some "awakenings" lead us only to death or pain, and others can be ambiguous at best. Still, nothing feels forced or unearned, and if one story ("Timshala" by Leah Cypess, the only novella of the bunch) feels like it ends right at the point the fun should start, that's a narrative decision that's given plenty of in-text justification.
My favourite of the six is the first: "When the Letter Comes" by Sarah Fox, a story about being left out of easy magical answers and having to work through your own transformation - and the power that brings. Also worthy of note is the deeply unsettling novelette "Nussia" by Michele Tracy Berger, which is probably the best story here, but gave me stomach ache with its unforgiving vision of an alien teenager's highly publicised stay with a Black family in the 1980s. The Awakenings stories are all available for free online but, at least until the end of the month, you can also avail yourself of the handy collected version, which also puts insightful author interview after each story.
Rating: 7/10
FIYAH Literary Magazine Issue 8: Pilgrimage, edited by Justina Ireland and Troy L. Wiggins
The theme of this FIYAH issue is pilgrimage, and its a topic that brings out an impressive and very different quartet of stories. "Bullet", by Stephen Kearse, tells the story of a pilot flying a "bullet" ship designed to destroy an entire planet across two years of space, and their attempts to either sabotage or come to terms with the journey they've decided to undertake. In "Magicians Trial" by Sarah A. Macklin, a young woman returns to the birthplace of humanity to take the test that will allow her to become a sorceress: a test that requires her to confront and address different aspects of herself. It's not spectacularly original, but Macklin handles the tropes well and those who enjoy fantasy coming-of-age stories will find satisfaction in how she allows her protagonist to triumph after solving the puzzles put in front of her.
FIYAH Literary Magazine Issue 8: Pilgrimage, edited by Justina Ireland and Troy L. Wiggins
The theme of this FIYAH issue is pilgrimage, and its a topic that brings out an impressive and very different quartet of stories. "Bullet", by Stephen Kearse, tells the story of a pilot flying a "bullet" ship designed to destroy an entire planet across two years of space, and their attempts to either sabotage or come to terms with the journey they've decided to undertake. In "Magicians Trial" by Sarah A. Macklin, a young woman returns to the birthplace of humanity to take the test that will allow her to become a sorceress: a test that requires her to confront and address different aspects of herself. It's not spectacularly original, but Macklin handles the tropes well and those who enjoy fantasy coming-of-age stories will find satisfaction in how she allows her protagonist to triumph after solving the puzzles put in front of her.
Then there's "Pedaling", by Tuere T.S. Ganges: a story very much in conversation with Octavia Butler's Parable stories (to the extent where they could plausibly be set in the same world), about a diverse group of teenagers travelling a lightly post-apocalyptic society trying to survive and to support those they meet. The use of Butler's "so be it, see to it" affirmation, and the care and community which the teenagers bring to each other - completely subverting the usual stereotypes that would be attached to a gang of teens of colour in a world like this - was heartwarming, and the plot gives them a nice way to showcase their talents and humanity against a deliberately two-dimensional white supremacist enemy. Rounding out the prose fiction is "Saudade", a story of survival in a post-spaceflight Korea, which I liked least of the four but still more than holds its own. (There's poetry too, including a great take on the Rapunzel myth by Doxa Zannou.)
Rating: 8/10
Fireside Magazine October - December, edited by Julia Rios.
Fireside's fourth quarter (which, for full disclosure, I read through a monthly ebook subscription rather in their physical "Fireside Quarterly" issues, although I envy all who receive the latter!) contains one S-rank among all the As: "STET" by Sarah Gailey, an unusual piece told in the form of marginal editorial comments on the first page of a journal article. Contained within this inventive structure is an excruciatingly good - and bitter - tale about artificial intelligence and the value of life in a world of machine learning and algorithms. The story also effectively addresses the tensions between lived experience and "professionalism", as the author of the article struggles to retain her rage at the technology they are writing about in the face of editorial concern that wants to separate their individual, emotional identity from the argument they trying to make. To say more would be to spoil the effect of the piece itself, which you honestly just need to read immediately.
That's not the only thing to look out for this quarter, of course. In "And I Never Named Her" by Renee Christopher, we follow the protagonist on a hunt for a mysterious creature, whose form and identity haunts them throughout the process. "Birch Daughter" by Sara Norja is a fairy tale of rescue and adventure, with bears! "Cleaning Up", by Brian M. Milton, is a fabulous tale of supernatural janitorial heroics, with a bonus talking cat. And December also brings a reprint of "All The Time We've Left to Spend" by Alyssa Wong, which was one of the outstanding stories from the Robots Vs Fairies anthology from earlier this year.
Rating: 8/10
Fireside Magazine October - December, edited by Julia Rios.
Fireside's fourth quarter (which, for full disclosure, I read through a monthly ebook subscription rather in their physical "Fireside Quarterly" issues, although I envy all who receive the latter!) contains one S-rank among all the As: "STET" by Sarah Gailey, an unusual piece told in the form of marginal editorial comments on the first page of a journal article. Contained within this inventive structure is an excruciatingly good - and bitter - tale about artificial intelligence and the value of life in a world of machine learning and algorithms. The story also effectively addresses the tensions between lived experience and "professionalism", as the author of the article struggles to retain her rage at the technology they are writing about in the face of editorial concern that wants to separate their individual, emotional identity from the argument they trying to make. To say more would be to spoil the effect of the piece itself, which you honestly just need to read immediately.
That's not the only thing to look out for this quarter, of course. In "And I Never Named Her" by Renee Christopher, we follow the protagonist on a hunt for a mysterious creature, whose form and identity haunts them throughout the process. "Birch Daughter" by Sara Norja is a fairy tale of rescue and adventure, with bears! "Cleaning Up", by Brian M. Milton, is a fabulous tale of supernatural janitorial heroics, with a bonus talking cat. And December also brings a reprint of "All The Time We've Left to Spend" by Alyssa Wong, which was one of the outstanding stories from the Robots Vs Fairies anthology from earlier this year.
Rating: 8/10 overall (but STET is at least a 9 on its own)
POSTED BY: Adri is a semi-aquatic migratory mammal most often found in the UK. She has many opinions about SFF books, and is also partial to gaming, baking, interacting with dogs, and Asian-style karaoke.
POSTED BY: Adri is a semi-aquatic migratory mammal most often found in the UK. She has many opinions about SFF books, and is also partial to gaming, baking, interacting with dogs, and Asian-style karaoke.
Tuesday, December 11, 2018
Microreview [Book]: The Fated Sky, by Mary Robinette Kowal
The Fated Sky stands well on its own but, when coupled with The Calculating Stars, is a masterpiece.
The Fated Sky picks up a few years after the end of The Calculating Stars. There is a fledgling base and colony on the moon, regular round trip missions from the earth to the moon, and the IAC (International Aerospace Coalition) is planning for its first Mars mission. Each of the two books are tagged as "Lady Astronaut" novels and Mary Robinette Kowal won a Hugo Award for her story "The Lady Astronaut of Mars". We know how the progression of Elma's story, where she ends up. It isn't about spoiling the ending, the beauty of The Fated Sky is in the journey. In this case, a journey to Mars.
I watched Hidden Figures (again) earlier in the day that I wrote this review and while the stronger comparison is to the first Lady Astronaut novel, The Calculating Stars, the story of the three black women overcoming institutional, societal, and personal prejudice and racism resonates with the story being told by Mary Robinette Kowal. It's not the same thing, let's be clear of that. The story of Elma York is the story of a white woman overcoming sexism to reach the stars, but as Kowal acknowledges throughout the two novels with the experiences of the men and women of color, there is still privilege in that prejudice. There is back story in the Lady Astronaut novels touching on the racism and oppression faced by black men and women in the United States as seen through the lens of the astronauts of color who have to work harder and receive fewer opportunities than their white counterparts. This is seen even in the character of Elma York who, despite her own struggles with systemic prejudice, is still advanced over those peers who do not share her skin color. To Kowal's credit, this is something continually acknowledged and addressed.
Knowing that Elma York eventually does arrive on the red planet and early enough to receive the moniker of "The Lady Astronaut of Mars", the opening of the novel serves to move characters and story around to get Elma onto that Mars mission. One of those characters moved is Helen Carmouche, Elma's friend and, incidentally, a woman of Asian descent. It is a case of a minority once again being bumped for a white astronaut, and that for a white astronaut who hasn't done the same amount of work and has to catch up to the training of the rest of the crew. It's not that Elma York is not a qualified or skilled astronaut, it's that Elma is also a bit of a celebrity astronaut and her presence will help maintain the funding required for the mission. Taken in isolation, this is perhaps not a big deal. But, these things are never in isolation and are always an accumulation of slights and indignities. A notable and important part of The Fated Sky is Elma's growing understanding of her privilege and of the discrimination faced by some of her peers, as well as Elma's working through and working out how to support those peers in a way they would like to be supported.
The beating heart of The Fated Sky is the training for and journey to Mars, as seen through the eyes and perspective of Elma York. It is so good. The sense of wonder from The Calculating Stars is still there, but it's different now. Elma has already been to space. There's still joy in the voyage, but it's not new. It's not shiny. It is wonderful. Training for Mars offers its own set of challenges, but Elma does not have to prove that she belongs in the program the same way she did in the previous novel.
Space travel, however, is something else. Kowal gets across both the monotony of the daily routine tasks of space travel as well as the hair's breadth precariousness of the whole enterprise, where a clogged toilet is a serious health concern and not cleaning the lint traps in a dryer can be a life threatening emergency.
Kowal shines in the intersection of the interpersonal relationships with the science and drama of space travel. Elma is as beautifully written as she was in The Calculating Stars, but there is a greater internal depth to her characterization. She continues to strive to overcome her imperfections, to do better as an astronaut, a colleague, and a human being. The most remarkable achievement in The Fated Sky was how Kowal handled the character of Stetson Parker, the misogynist (and all around asshole) senior astronaut who spent much of The Calculating Stars working against Elma's achievement. Here he is the mission commander making the on-the-spot decisions and judgments. Parker issues with Elma remain. They don't like each other, seldom give the other benefit of the doubt, and we well remember his background. He was Elma's antagonist in The Calculating Stars, but Kowal shows his humanity in The Fated Sky. He's not exactly likeable, though even Elma notes that he can be remarkably charming and that he knows how to manage people on an individual level during a mission or training scenario. A detente is reached, if not actual peace, when Elma and Stetson can begin to understand each other as people rather than opponents. At no point does Kowal diminish or sweep aside the very real issues with Stetson Parker as a person, but how his character is developed and explored is fascinating to follow.
The Fated Sky may not have the same newness and sense of wonder that only a first book in a series can have, but it delivers in all the ways that matter. The raw joy of being in space is there. The amazement of landing on a new planet is palpable, where it doesn't matter if you are the first man or woman to place your foot on that soil. The simple fact of being there is wondrous and Mary Robinette Kowal manages to convey that emotion so perfectly the reader experiences it. The Fated Sky stands well on its own, but when coupled with The Calculating Stars it is a masterpiece.
The Math
Baseline Assessment: 9/10
Bonuses: +1 because Kowal overcomes the difficulty of losing that initial sense of discovery of the first novel and still delivers a novel just as powerful and wondrous as The Calculating Stars.
Penalties: -1 because even when she makes mistakes, Elma sometimes seems to be leading an overly charmed life of everything going her way.
Nerd Coefficient: 9/10, "very high quality/standout in its category" See more about our scoring system here.
Reference: Kowal, Mary Robinette. The Fated Sky [Tor, 2018]
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 & 2018 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
"Do you remember where you were when the stars came out? I was with my husband, on Mars."After reading The Calculating Stars (my review) earlier this year, I wrote about how Mary Robinette Kowal did more than achieve a sense of wonder, she brought the dream of spaceflight beyond the page and directly into readers hearts. The Calculating Stars was a masterful novel that will surely find a place on many Year's Best lists and a number of awards ballots. It's a lot to live up to, but the near perfection of The Calculating Stars only serves to whet the appetite for The Fated Sky.
The Fated Sky picks up a few years after the end of The Calculating Stars. There is a fledgling base and colony on the moon, regular round trip missions from the earth to the moon, and the IAC (International Aerospace Coalition) is planning for its first Mars mission. Each of the two books are tagged as "Lady Astronaut" novels and Mary Robinette Kowal won a Hugo Award for her story "The Lady Astronaut of Mars". We know how the progression of Elma's story, where she ends up. It isn't about spoiling the ending, the beauty of The Fated Sky is in the journey. In this case, a journey to Mars.
I watched Hidden Figures (again) earlier in the day that I wrote this review and while the stronger comparison is to the first Lady Astronaut novel, The Calculating Stars, the story of the three black women overcoming institutional, societal, and personal prejudice and racism resonates with the story being told by Mary Robinette Kowal. It's not the same thing, let's be clear of that. The story of Elma York is the story of a white woman overcoming sexism to reach the stars, but as Kowal acknowledges throughout the two novels with the experiences of the men and women of color, there is still privilege in that prejudice. There is back story in the Lady Astronaut novels touching on the racism and oppression faced by black men and women in the United States as seen through the lens of the astronauts of color who have to work harder and receive fewer opportunities than their white counterparts. This is seen even in the character of Elma York who, despite her own struggles with systemic prejudice, is still advanced over those peers who do not share her skin color. To Kowal's credit, this is something continually acknowledged and addressed.
Knowing that Elma York eventually does arrive on the red planet and early enough to receive the moniker of "The Lady Astronaut of Mars", the opening of the novel serves to move characters and story around to get Elma onto that Mars mission. One of those characters moved is Helen Carmouche, Elma's friend and, incidentally, a woman of Asian descent. It is a case of a minority once again being bumped for a white astronaut, and that for a white astronaut who hasn't done the same amount of work and has to catch up to the training of the rest of the crew. It's not that Elma York is not a qualified or skilled astronaut, it's that Elma is also a bit of a celebrity astronaut and her presence will help maintain the funding required for the mission. Taken in isolation, this is perhaps not a big deal. But, these things are never in isolation and are always an accumulation of slights and indignities. A notable and important part of The Fated Sky is Elma's growing understanding of her privilege and of the discrimination faced by some of her peers, as well as Elma's working through and working out how to support those peers in a way they would like to be supported.
The beating heart of The Fated Sky is the training for and journey to Mars, as seen through the eyes and perspective of Elma York. It is so good. The sense of wonder from The Calculating Stars is still there, but it's different now. Elma has already been to space. There's still joy in the voyage, but it's not new. It's not shiny. It is wonderful. Training for Mars offers its own set of challenges, but Elma does not have to prove that she belongs in the program the same way she did in the previous novel.
Space travel, however, is something else. Kowal gets across both the monotony of the daily routine tasks of space travel as well as the hair's breadth precariousness of the whole enterprise, where a clogged toilet is a serious health concern and not cleaning the lint traps in a dryer can be a life threatening emergency.
Kowal shines in the intersection of the interpersonal relationships with the science and drama of space travel. Elma is as beautifully written as she was in The Calculating Stars, but there is a greater internal depth to her characterization. She continues to strive to overcome her imperfections, to do better as an astronaut, a colleague, and a human being. The most remarkable achievement in The Fated Sky was how Kowal handled the character of Stetson Parker, the misogynist (and all around asshole) senior astronaut who spent much of The Calculating Stars working against Elma's achievement. Here he is the mission commander making the on-the-spot decisions and judgments. Parker issues with Elma remain. They don't like each other, seldom give the other benefit of the doubt, and we well remember his background. He was Elma's antagonist in The Calculating Stars, but Kowal shows his humanity in The Fated Sky. He's not exactly likeable, though even Elma notes that he can be remarkably charming and that he knows how to manage people on an individual level during a mission or training scenario. A detente is reached, if not actual peace, when Elma and Stetson can begin to understand each other as people rather than opponents. At no point does Kowal diminish or sweep aside the very real issues with Stetson Parker as a person, but how his character is developed and explored is fascinating to follow.
The Fated Sky may not have the same newness and sense of wonder that only a first book in a series can have, but it delivers in all the ways that matter. The raw joy of being in space is there. The amazement of landing on a new planet is palpable, where it doesn't matter if you are the first man or woman to place your foot on that soil. The simple fact of being there is wondrous and Mary Robinette Kowal manages to convey that emotion so perfectly the reader experiences it. The Fated Sky stands well on its own, but when coupled with The Calculating Stars it is a masterpiece.
The Math
Baseline Assessment: 9/10
Bonuses: +1 because Kowal overcomes the difficulty of losing that initial sense of discovery of the first novel and still delivers a novel just as powerful and wondrous as The Calculating Stars.
Penalties: -1 because even when she makes mistakes, Elma sometimes seems to be leading an overly charmed life of everything going her way.
Nerd Coefficient: 9/10, "very high quality/standout in its category" See more about our scoring system here.
Reference: Kowal, Mary Robinette. The Fated Sky [Tor, 2018]
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 & 2018 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
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Monday, December 10, 2018
Nanoreviews: Jade City, Moon of the Crusted Snow, Space Opera
Lee, Fonda. Jade City [Orbit, 2017]
Any commentary on Jade City which does not mention The Godfather is avoiding the the obvious comparison. The thing is that even though the comparison is obvious and easy does not mean that it isn't apt and on point. Jade City is the story of two rival gangster clans vying for control of Janloon, a city of on the island of Kekon. The No Peak and Mountain clans control neighborhoods and collect tribute / protection money from businesses in their districts and are in a perpetual state of armed rivalry with each other for more territory and resources.
Fans of crime and mob fiction will find plenty to love here. The setting of Jade City feels much like a 1970's era city and the novel plays out like The Godfather with Magic. The novel is told much more from the perspective of the No Peak Clan, so the characterization there is much stronger, coming across as both familiar and fresh. To give balance to the narrative, in just a few bold strokes, sentences, and scenes, Fonda Lee absolutely nails down two major characters of the Mountain Clan and breathes greater life into the war between clans.
Jade City is one of the best novels of 2017 and my only regret is that I did not read it earlier so I could have nominated it for all of the awards.
Score: 9/10
Rice, Waubgeshig. Moon of the Crusted Snow [ECW Press, 2018]
Imagine something goes wrong. The power goes out, phone lines and cell towers are down, an isolated community becomes completely shut off and forced to be self reliant during a hard northern winter. There are bare hints of the wider world and whatever the greater societal problem is has little bearing on the lives of this Native community.
Moon of the Crusted Snow tells the story of a remote Anishinaabe community in northern Canada. Knowing a novel is post apocalyptic sets up certain expectations in the reader and Waubgeshig Rice subverts those. This is a novel of quiet survival, of social pressure and changes in the face of disaster, of community, of maintaining a way of life in the face of what otherwise seems like the impossible. In a sense, Moon of the Crusted Snow reminds me a bit of When the English Fell, David Williams' novel of a collapsing world told from the perspective of an Amish community.
I appreciated the deliberateness of the storytelling, how tight the novel is to limited character perspective. It would be so easy to reveal too much of what the wider global (or even regional) story might be, but Rice holds back and Moon of the Crusted Snow is all the stronger for it.
Score: 7/10
Valente, Catherynne M. Space Opera [Saga, 2018]
The most common reference point for Space Opera is the legendary Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a novel of galactic absurdity. It was a bold statement the first time I heard it made and it remains a bold statement now that I've read Space Opera. The thing is, it is not an unreasonable claim that Space Opera is today's successor to Douglas Adams' classic. Now, only time will tell is Space Opera holds up in decades to come or if we'll talk about Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeroes in the same tones that we do Arthur Dent, Marvin, and Zaphod Beeblebrox.
Valente's novel is Eurovision in Space and it is absolutely delightful and once Valente gets Decibel Jones to that Megagalactic Grand Prix, the novel kicks into high gear and maximum absurdity with high entertainment and real emotion. It's one hell of a novel.
Score: 9/10
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 & 2018 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
Friday, December 7, 2018
Microreview [book]: Empire of Sand by Tasha Suri
Empire of Sand is an immersive and compulsively readable epic fantasy that draws on traditions and cultures and milieus, the Mughal Empire, a culture and heritage hitherto rarely seen in the Western fantasy tradition.
Mehr is the daughter of the Governor of Irinah, the now-province of the Empire that her mother, long since estranged and gone from her life and her father’s, comes from. As he never married her mother, and now has a wife from the core of the Empire, the status of Mehr, and her younger sister Arwa is illegitimate and thus constantly imperiled. Her stepmother has very strong ideas what it means to be the daughter of the governor, and her control over the household, and the lives of Mehr and Arwa is ironclad. Worse, the sisters are of a persecuted and despised minority, the Amrithi. The desert dwelling Amrithi are treated with fear and scorn for the magical power in their blood, a power that Mehr does not think she shares herself, even as she tries to live within the traditions of their culture as best she can. But when Mehr’s very real ability comes to the forefront and manifests, the Empire suddenly has a use for Mehr, and a fate that she may not be able to escape.
This is the story of Tasha Suri’s debut novel, Empire of Sand.
Mehr and her story are the heart of this story. The novel opens with building up her life within the world of the Governor’s Palace and how her status is on the edge of a knife. Her absent birth mother, her stepmother Maryam, Arwa and her relations with the servants of the palace and people beyond provide a relationship map that helps define and highlight Mehr in the early stages of the book. Later, we meet her father, and we meet the man whom the Empire has determined she will marry, Amun. As the setting of the novel moves from the palace to the temple that the Empire has sent her, the relationships and connections around Mehr change sharply, and it is Mehr’s need to remain true to herself, even in a very foreign place, where trust is a dangerous card to play.
Empire of Sand reminded me as I started to read it and progressed deeper into the novel, of Kare Elliott’s first Spiritwalker novel, Cold Magic. Non-European culture, check. Young female protagonist with the potential from a heritage she does not understand with supernatural ancestry, including an absent birth parent. Check. Growing up in a relatively sheltered and enclosed locale, and then taken away from that locale by means of an unexpected, forced marriage to a mage, whose relationship is thorny and a subsequent plot driver. Check. I do think that readers who enjoyed the Spiritwalker series would really enjoy what Suri does here in Empire of Sand.
The world that the author portrays is also fresh and interesting and something new and different. The author was inspired by the Mughal Empire in Northwest and North India for the cultures and society we see in the novel. Using that template, we are portrayed a world of a grasping empire, seeking to conquer all and sundry, including cultures and kingdoms very different than the center. Setting a novel in a distant desert province of an Empire doesn’t *sound* new, but there is a rich authenticity that is portrayed on the pages. With sleeping gods, supernatural beings, and the reality bending Dreamfire storms that periodically afflict Irinah and beyond, it is a rich and well developed world. From the corridors of the palace, to the stark beauty of the desert, to the temple of the Maha, all of the locations that Suri invokes in the novel richly put me as a reader into the setting. I particularly liked the daiva, which we meet early in the novel, and their ties and connections to both humans and Gods a mystery and piece of the world that is slowly revealed as the plot unfolds.
While I see the necessity of the strand, I think that the chapters where we break Mehr’s point of view to show other points of view, particularly her friend Lalita, do not feel as crisp and does not feel as deep, as the main narrative with Mehr. This secondary strand does provide for a lot of shorthand for when that strand finally intersects Mehr, but I don’t think the story in that strand is anywhere near as cohesive as Mehr’s story. I was always ready to go back to Mehr and what she was doing, instead. I had a lot of buy in to her story and her relationships, much more than any other character.
Overall, Empire of Sand is a rich and very promising debut in a world with a central character that I want to know much more about. Empire of Sand delivers on fantasy “Beyond the Great Wall of Europe”, and in spades.The ending of the novel makes it clear that this is the first in a series, but the ending of this novel is a satisfactory one for those who want an “off ramp”. A complete, and most excellent story, is told in this volume.
---
The Math
Baseline Assessment 7/10
Bonuses : +1 for a strong main character with believable and deep relationships
+1 for rich and immersive worldbuilding
Penalties : -1 for less effective switches in point of view that do not resonate as well as the main narrative.
Nerd Coefficient: 8/10: well worth your time and attention
Reference: Suri, Tasha Empire of Sand [Orbit, 2018]
POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.
Mehr is the daughter of the Governor of Irinah, the now-province of the Empire that her mother, long since estranged and gone from her life and her father’s, comes from. As he never married her mother, and now has a wife from the core of the Empire, the status of Mehr, and her younger sister Arwa is illegitimate and thus constantly imperiled. Her stepmother has very strong ideas what it means to be the daughter of the governor, and her control over the household, and the lives of Mehr and Arwa is ironclad. Worse, the sisters are of a persecuted and despised minority, the Amrithi. The desert dwelling Amrithi are treated with fear and scorn for the magical power in their blood, a power that Mehr does not think she shares herself, even as she tries to live within the traditions of their culture as best she can. But when Mehr’s very real ability comes to the forefront and manifests, the Empire suddenly has a use for Mehr, and a fate that she may not be able to escape.
This is the story of Tasha Suri’s debut novel, Empire of Sand.
Mehr and her story are the heart of this story. The novel opens with building up her life within the world of the Governor’s Palace and how her status is on the edge of a knife. Her absent birth mother, her stepmother Maryam, Arwa and her relations with the servants of the palace and people beyond provide a relationship map that helps define and highlight Mehr in the early stages of the book. Later, we meet her father, and we meet the man whom the Empire has determined she will marry, Amun. As the setting of the novel moves from the palace to the temple that the Empire has sent her, the relationships and connections around Mehr change sharply, and it is Mehr’s need to remain true to herself, even in a very foreign place, where trust is a dangerous card to play.
Empire of Sand reminded me as I started to read it and progressed deeper into the novel, of Kare Elliott’s first Spiritwalker novel, Cold Magic. Non-European culture, check. Young female protagonist with the potential from a heritage she does not understand with supernatural ancestry, including an absent birth parent. Check. Growing up in a relatively sheltered and enclosed locale, and then taken away from that locale by means of an unexpected, forced marriage to a mage, whose relationship is thorny and a subsequent plot driver. Check. I do think that readers who enjoyed the Spiritwalker series would really enjoy what Suri does here in Empire of Sand.
The world that the author portrays is also fresh and interesting and something new and different. The author was inspired by the Mughal Empire in Northwest and North India for the cultures and society we see in the novel. Using that template, we are portrayed a world of a grasping empire, seeking to conquer all and sundry, including cultures and kingdoms very different than the center. Setting a novel in a distant desert province of an Empire doesn’t *sound* new, but there is a rich authenticity that is portrayed on the pages. With sleeping gods, supernatural beings, and the reality bending Dreamfire storms that periodically afflict Irinah and beyond, it is a rich and well developed world. From the corridors of the palace, to the stark beauty of the desert, to the temple of the Maha, all of the locations that Suri invokes in the novel richly put me as a reader into the setting. I particularly liked the daiva, which we meet early in the novel, and their ties and connections to both humans and Gods a mystery and piece of the world that is slowly revealed as the plot unfolds.
While I see the necessity of the strand, I think that the chapters where we break Mehr’s point of view to show other points of view, particularly her friend Lalita, do not feel as crisp and does not feel as deep, as the main narrative with Mehr. This secondary strand does provide for a lot of shorthand for when that strand finally intersects Mehr, but I don’t think the story in that strand is anywhere near as cohesive as Mehr’s story. I was always ready to go back to Mehr and what she was doing, instead. I had a lot of buy in to her story and her relationships, much more than any other character.
Overall, Empire of Sand is a rich and very promising debut in a world with a central character that I want to know much more about. Empire of Sand delivers on fantasy “Beyond the Great Wall of Europe”, and in spades.The ending of the novel makes it clear that this is the first in a series, but the ending of this novel is a satisfactory one for those who want an “off ramp”. A complete, and most excellent story, is told in this volume.
---
The Math
Baseline Assessment 7/10
Bonuses : +1 for a strong main character with believable and deep relationships
+1 for rich and immersive worldbuilding
Penalties : -1 for less effective switches in point of view that do not resonate as well as the main narrative.
Nerd Coefficient: 8/10: well worth your time and attention
Reference: Suri, Tasha Empire of Sand [Orbit, 2018]
POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.
Thursday, December 6, 2018
Thursday Morning Superhero
I'm not sure if it is a change in the weather or if I caught something from one of my kids, but today's Thursday Morning Superhero will be on the short side as I am currently battling a wicked cold. Cheers!
Pick of the Week:
Batman #60 - After a long hiatus from this series I decided to check out what Tom King had cooking for the Dark Knight and really enjoyed what I read. It is part three of a story called "The Tyrant Wing" and Batman is completely unhinged. He has concerns about Bane secretly running operations in Arkham and is beating anyone who recently got out of Arkham senseless. In addition, Penguin is being held prisoner in the Bat Cave and says he has insights on Bane's operations. The problem is that everyone who is out on parole swears that Bane is holed up in his cell doing nothing. King has definitely returned to the darker side of Batman and I am looking forward to reading the earlier issues in this arc and am curious about the development that was revealed at the end. I won't spoil anything, but it has the potential of being a game changer. Very happy I decided to return to this series.
The Rest:
Star Wars Adventures: Destroyer Down #2 - This series about the Ghost Ship and the quest to pillage it by Rey and company on Jakuu and the flashback to see how the Ghost Ship ended up on Jakuu continues to be highly entertaining. A series for all-ages of Star Wars fans, this book gives us a glimpse into Rey's life prior to TFA and a bit more on her interaction with relics of the Rebellion. Sometimes it is nice to find a book that is just fun to read. It might not have the depth of some of the other series, but you leave feeling entertained.
Prodigy #1 - Edison Crane has the unique ability to learn anything faster than anyone in the world. When his dad grew frustrated with him, he cut his inheritance to only one dollar which Crane turned into over $1 billion in a year. He is constantly commissioned to write screenplays, compose music, and solve mysteries. Recently there is a rash of spontaneous combustion in humans and animals in Australia. Crane is convinced that this is the early signs of an invasion and I am a bit intrigued. Crane is as cocky and over-the-top as a lot of Mark Millar's creations. From learning how to fight from martial arts as a 10-year old to performing open heart surgery on a friend, Crane is definitely an interesting character.
POSTED BY MIKE N. aka Victor Domashev -- comic guy, proudly raising nerdy kids, and Nerds of a Feather contributor since 2012.
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
Feminist Futures: The Future is Female!
Dossier: Yaszek, Lisa. The Future is Female! [Library of America, 2018]
Filetype: Book
Executive Summary: The subtitle to The Future is Female! is "25 Classic Science Fiction Stories by Women, from Pulp Pioneers to Ursula K. Le Guin", which is a fairly accurate summation of the anthology editor Lisa Yaszek has put together, though it is interesting that in collecting the stories from three eras she has chosen to note Pulp as an era but mark the ending as a single author.
Yaszek reaches farther back in time than most with The Future is Female! The earliest story, "The Miracle of the Lily" was published in 1928 and the next two, "The Conquest of Gola" and "The Black God's Kiss" were published in 1931 and 1934 respectively. "Black God's Kiss" is a particularly well considered selection as marks the first appearance of the legendary sword and sorcery character Jirel of Joiry.
Yaszek divides the anthology into three major Eras: Pulp, Golden Age, and New Wave. Three Pulp Era stories are included here, a whopping thirteen from the Golden Age, and a solid nine from the New Wave era. There is perhaps a wider gulf between the final pulp era story "Black God's Kiss" to Leslie Perri's "Space Episode" than there is between the Golden Age to the New Wave, at least as defined by Yaszek. There isn't much of a line dividing the Golden Age stories of "Car Pool" and "For Sale, Reasonable" from the New Wave "Birth of a Gardener" and "Tunnel Ahead". There is strong narrative and thematic similarity on either side of the line.
Ending The Future is Female with the powerhouse trio of Joanna Russ, James Tiptree, Jr, and Ursula K. Le Guin is a power statement and an incredible way to close out an anthology.
Feminist Future: Though not all of the stories included in The Future is Female are explicitly feminist, the act of a woman existing is feminist in nature and a woman carving out a place for herself in any industry is a feminist act. It can also be a revolutionary act. In her introduction to The Future is Female!, Lisa Yaszek writes
"Adopting personae ranging from warrior queens and heroic astronauts to unhappy housewives and sensitive aliens, women were pioneers in developing our sense of wonder about the many different futures we might inhabit, partners in forging the creative practices associated with the best speculative fiction, and revolutionaries who blew up the genre when necessary to address the hopes and fears of American women."
In revisiting the history of science fiction and in noting the continued presence of women most often forgotten at all times in this genre's history, Yaszek reminds us that the existence of the work itself is feminist even if any individual story may or may not be.
Legacy: Much as Pamela Sargent was intending to do with her Women of Wonder anthologies, Lisa Yaszek is reminding readers that women have *always* been a part of science fiction and fantasy. It would be an impossible task to offer up a proper survey of women in science fiction in just one volume or even two. What Lisa Yaszek accomplishes here is a broad as possible survey showing off the range of achievement of women in science fiction and fantasy.
While luminaries such as Ursula Le Guin, Joanna Russ, James Tiptree, Leigh Brackett, Andre Norton, and C.L. Moore are included, Lisa Yaszek reminds readers that the field includes a number of names that we might not remember today but really ought to. When we talk about the earliest science fiction writers, we should remember Clare Winger Harris and Leslie Stone. When we talk about that Golden Age, we should remember Rosel George Brown and Alice Glaser and Mildred Clingerman. With The Future is Female!, Lisa Yaszek ensures we don't forget.
In Retrospect: The Future is Female! stands on its own as an anthology surveying some of the history of women in science fiction and fantasy, but I cannot help but compare it to Pamela Sargent's seminal Women of Wonder anthology. More than forty years separate the two anthologies, but they share a common theme and a common purpose: the acknowledgement and remembrance of where science fiction and fantasy has come from, the opportunity to create a platform placing a spotlight on the women of the genre.
Yaszek covers some of the same ground as Sargent did in the original Women of Wonder, including four stories also selected by Sargent for her anthology: "That Only a Mother" (Merril), "Contagion" (MacLean), "When I Was Miss Dow" (Dornan), "Baby You Were Great" (Wilhelm).
The difference, of course, is that Yaszek has the benefit of time. Though beginning with a story published in 1948, Sargent also included contemporary stories to when Women of Wonder was published. The most recent story in The Future is Female! is fifty years old and Yaszek has had the benefit of a wider range of subsequent anthologies and a revitalized interest in classic science fiction and rediscovering the lost masters.
Some of that benefit of time makes Yaszek's decision to include a story co-authored by Marion Zimmer Bradley a very curious and uncomfortable one. Bradley's status as an important writer is not in question, but given that Bradley's own daughter came forward in 2014 stating that Bradley sexually abused her and other children, as well as permitting and facilitating the same abuse perpetuated by Bradley's husband, I just don't know how to justify the inclusion of "Another Rib". It is not as horrifying a story as compared to "The Wind People" (which was included in Women of Wonder) in terms of content compared to the personal life of MZB, but continuing to anthologize Bradley is to continue to celebrate Bradley.
Moving on to writers worth spending the time on, in Leigh Brackett's "All the Colors of the Rainbow" aliens visit Earth, the backwater planet thta we are, to help uplift the planet to eventual membership in a galactic federation. The aliens seem to look just like us (or close enough), except they're green. This is straight up a story about racism as she has two aliens visit a small southern town that never bothered with integration because, well, black folks just didn't want to live there (aka, they were run out of town the same vicious way these aliens are treated). It's a bit simplistic, but compelling and well written. It's also a science fiction story overtly dealing with racism, and I'm not sure how often that happened, especially in 1957. Maybe I would be surprised.
Though I've heard of Jirel of Joiry for almost as long as I've read fantasy, I've never read any of C.L. Moore's stories. I don't think I realized just when these stories were published, certainly not as far back as 1934. "The Black God's Kiss" holds up. It is a classic sword and sorcery story featuring a bad ass heroine and it is told with such timeless craft that with some minor exceptions it could almost have been published for the first time this year. It's good, period.
With "The Tunnel Ahead", Alice Glaser offers up a future with significant overcrowding (the United States has a population of 1 billion), resulting in tightly crammed automated cars and limited opportunities for outside play - a 40 mile trip the beach takes 5 hours, plus several hours waiting in line to go into the water, and no opportunity to actually swim just tread. It's a fairly tightly controlled domestic story, but with a hard twist at the end that's just delightful if you find twists delightful. The twist, in a different sense, in reminiscent of Judith Merril's story "That Only a Mother", a domestic story that lives on a gut punch of an ending.
I enjoyed Joanna Russ's "The Barbarian" far more than I did her seminal novel The Female Man, likely because "The Barbarian" is a story of a strong female warrior reminiscent of Jirel of Joiry, though working from a different base. I'm already looking for more of Russ's Alyx stories.
Ending The Future is Female! with Ursula K. Le Guin's "Nine Lives" was an excellent choice. I still find it interesting that Le Guin is almost an era onto herself here, but I also can't find much to argue with that decision. Originally published in Playboy under the byline "U.K. Le Guin", "Nine Lives" was a finalist for the Nebula Award and that recognition is very much deserved. "Nine Lives" deals with cloning and the idea of self, as well as life in a very hostile environment.
This is a top notch anthology. If you're looking for a contemporary anthology putting a spotlight on many of the great science fiction and fantasy writers of the past, you can't do much better than The Future is Female!.
Analytics
For its time: 5/5
Read today: 3.5/5
Wollstonecraft Meter: 8.5/10
POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 & 2018 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.
Labels:
Feminist Futures,
Joe,
Lisa Yaszek
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