Microreview [Book]: Architects of Memory by Karen Osborne

 A story that throws a lot of things at you, almost all of them good.

Architects of Memory is a good kind of paradox. Its story links a degrading sense of self, the greed and depravity of humanity, and lofty misunderstanding to create a fiery conflict. Things don’t go well for the characters when multiple concepts are intertwined in that world. But on a craft level, the novel intertwines space opera tropes, a few inventive twists, fully-formed characters, and a perfectly paced structure to create a glowing achievement. If only the characters' travails mirrored the writerly utopia that transpires when Karen Osborne’s typing away.

In Architects of Memory, Ash Jackson is indentured to a massive corporation, and she must work to attain freedom. Upon her work, while on a spaceship with a motley crew, she encounters a mysterious object that has to do with her dark past and humanity’s conflict against an alien race. To compound matters, she also has an illness that could cost her freedom and impair her abilities. And to escalate the situation further, she’s in a secret relationship with a member of her crew.  

The beginning of the novel mostly takes its time organically sliding in worldbuilding and pieces of the plot. To those new to sci-fi, it may be jarring with the amount of information it throws at you right away, as well as putting you in the middle of the action with relationships preestablished, expecting the reader to catch on. Things do click into place, and it’s well worth the effort.

Upon the one-quarter mark, the story swivels directions, goes into lightspeed, and propels through twists and action, mostly knowing when to momentarily hit the brakes and give you a breather. Reading the novel is like riding a spaceship piloted by an apt daredevil. Even the times in the ride when the story hits a wall of exposition, I never felt like I was mired in boring, sludgy plotting because the afterglow of the thrilling scenes that preceded it left me at a high. With that said, feelings are subjective, and those averse to any blatant scenes of the expository variety might feel different.

The most singular talent of Architects of Memory is finding a new bent on a space opera story—a genre that’s been well-trodden so thoroughly and covered in footprints that it can seem impossible to find a patch of your own. And while Karen Osborne does steps on patches that have been stepped on by seemingly every sci-fi author, there are idiosyncrasies to characters and twists regarding alien life that more than make it fresh. While characterization isn’t at the top of the novel’s mind, it does do a much-more-than-serviceable job of establishing believable motivations and ample depth to keep you caring.

But the greatest joy of Architects of Memory lies in its plot and the themes they develop. Whether it tackles individuality and collectivity, the belligerent survival instincts of humanity, or relationships in secrecy, it lays the foundation for those themes and builds upon them, never leaving them underdeveloped along the way. The most intriguing theme is how memory is so tied up with our sense of self. We’re a collection of the knowledge we accrue and the relationships we build, but without memory, those things slip through our fingers like sand. Love can change from everlasting to a brief sensation. Familial bonds that we preoccupy ourselves with if the world around us is rotten becomes lost if our memory – our personal storage locker that tethers all our meaning – is gone.  

Space operas can sometimes be so unwilling to take risks and stray from conventions that they’re forgettable. Stories that have edifying substance don’t matter if they immediately leave our memory. The best way to counteract that is to have original characters, and hard-hitting themes despite how well-trodden some story beats are. Architects of Memory does that. Its craft, emotional intelligence, and smooth writing style work to create a gem that will be at the top of my mind for a long time.

The Math

Baseline Score: 7/10

Bonuses: +1 For expert pacing, especially in the wonderfully frenetic latter half.
+1 For a great portrayal of an alien race.

Negatives:
-1 For an ending that could be a little better.

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10

POSTED BY: Sean Dowie - Screenwriter, stand-up comedian, lover of all books that make him nod his head and say, "Neat!

 Osborne, Karen. Architects of Memory [Tor Books, 2020]

Microreview [book]: The Black God's Drums by P Djeli Clark

The Black God’s Drums is an interesting window into a character and her Steampunk-with-touches of magic alternate New Orleans

Creeper is a teenager living on the streets of an alternate 1880’s New Orleans, often spending time near Les Grand Murs, the huge wall used as a airship dock in this world’s version of the Big Easy. Creeper has big dreams of being crew on one of those big airships, but to get a chance at that, Creeper is going to have to help the captain of one of those airships stop a plot to unleash a devastating weather weapon designed by a Haitian scientist and coveted by the Union, Confederacy and everyone else.

Welcome to the world of P Djeli Clark’s The Black God’s Drums.

Creeper makes for an appealing and strong protagonist. The book doesn’t really feel like YA story to me although it has some traditional elements of that. The youth of the character, the coming of age story, the relatively breezy pace, and the general tone do earmark it in that direction. There is plenty here for readers of all ages to sympathize and identify with her, as she learns to really understand her connection to the orisha, Oya, and her own other talents besides. Captain Ann-Marie, of the Midnight Robber, is every inch the steampunk airship captain that can and does serve as an exemplar and a role model for Creeper, and a character with her own agency in her own right. I wouldn’t mind a novella from *her* point of view.

The real richness of the novella is it is delight in invention, with an eye for creating a world that is rich for the potential for story and adventure. From the palpable existence of very active orishas, to an alternate history with a Confederacy, Haiti as a Caribbean power, and, naturally, airships, the world that Clark has created is a fascinating one that we only get a small short-novella taste of, but I want to read more of. The vision of New Orleans as a freeport where the Union, the Confederacy, Haiti and other powers all meet and trade, complete with extensive airship facilities is a compelling and fascinating one. There are hints that the world beyond what we see is similarly not the one we know, either, but really, Clark could tell many stories just in the North America and Caribbean around New Orleans. There is just simply a lot of canvas here for the author to unleash her protagonist and other characters upon.

My major beef with the novella is that for the story it is trying to tell, which does have a sequel hook in the offing, is that it feels a little bit breezy and short for all that. The line by writing is very good, crisp and neat, and I was intrigued by that world we see. But for all of that, i think there could have been a little more meat on the bones of the story. While leaving a reader wanting and wishing for more is always a good hook for future stories and novels, it is more frustrating when it comes to the actual story being told. I wanted more “there there” on the story I was getting. It’s not a complicated or particularly twisted story, it is a clean and straight story that feels more like a long novelette than a pitifully short novella. I also am of the opinion that while short stories and novelettes can do “one thing”, by the time you get to novellas, having an additional subplot or two helps enrich the characters and the world. This novella is lacking in that regard

That said, I found the world depicted here to be an intriguing one, and if that sequel hook in this novella does pan out, the promise of this first novella can be completely fulfilled in a subsequent, and hopefully more substantial work.

The Math

Baseline Assessment 7/10

Bonuses : +1 for a stunning and immersive alternate world with a ton of potential.

Penalties : -1 for being far too breezy and short for the story being told

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10. An enjoyable experience, but not without its flaws

***

Reference:  Clark, P. Djeli:  The Black God’s Drums [Tor, 2018]

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

New Books Spotlight

Welcome to another edition of the New Books Spotlight, where each month or so we curate a selection of 6 forthcoming books we find notable, interesting, and intriguing. It gives us the opportunity to shine a brief spotlight on some stuff we're itching to get our hands on.

What are you looking forward to? Anything you want to argue with us about? Is there something we should consider spotlighting in the future? Let us know in the comments!

Bear, Elizabeth, The Stone in the Skull [Tor Books, 2017]

Publisher's description:

The Stone in the Skull, the first volume in her new trilogy, takes readers over the dangerous mountain passes of the Steles of the Sky and south into the Lotus Kingdoms.

The Gage is a brass automaton created by a wizard of Messaline around the core of a human being. His wizard is long dead, and he works as a mercenary. He is carrying a message from a the most powerful sorcerer of Messaline to the Rajni of the Lotus Kingdom. With him is The Dead Man, a bitter survivor of the body guard of the deposed Uthman Caliphate, protecting the message and the Gage. They are friends, of a peculiar sort.

They are walking into a dynastic war between the rulers of the shattered bits of a once great Empire.

 Why We Want It: When I hear there is anything new from Elizabeth Bear I am already in line. Seriously. Bear's novels never fail to sweep me up and away. Her last, Karen Memory, was a phenomenal weird western I've given multiple times as gifts. I suspect this one will be on my gift-giving guide as well.

Toptas, Hasan Ali, Shadowless [Bloomsbury, 2017]

Publisher's description:

In an Anatolian village forgotten by both God and the government, the muhtar has been elected leader for the sixteenth successive year. When he staggers to bed that night, drunk on raki and his own well-deserved success, the village is prosperous. But when he is woken by his wife the next evening he discovers that Nuri, the barber, has disappeared without a trace in the dead of night, and the community begins to fracture.

In a nameless town far away, Nuri walks into a barbershop as if from a dream, not knowing how he has arrived. Try as he might, he cannot grasp the strands of his memory. The facts of his past life shift and evade him, and as other customers come and go, they too struggle to recall how they got there.

Blurring the lines of reality to terrific effect, Shadowless is both a compelling mystery and an enduring evocation of displacement from one of the finest, most exciting voices in Turkish literature today.

 Why We Want It: I love finding genre in translation and after stumbling on this cover I knew I had to put this one on my list. I'm not sure I've read any Turkish literature yet so this will be such a wonderful addition to my shelves.

Alderman, Naomi, The Power [Little, Brown and Company, 2017]

Publisher's description:

In THE POWER, the world is a recognizable place: there's a rich Nigerian boy who lounges around the family pool; a foster kid whose religious parents hide their true nature; an ambitious American politician; a tough London girl from a tricky family. But then a vital new force takes root and flourishes, causing their lives to converge with devastating effect. Teenage girls now have immense physical power--they can cause agonizing pain and even death. And, with this small twist of nature, the world drastically resets.

From award-winning author Naomi Alderman, THE POWER is speculative fiction at its most ambitious and provocative, at once taking us on a thrilling journey to an alternate reality, and exposing our own world in bold and surprising ways.

Why We Want It: It has a blurb from Margaret Atwood on the cover and the premise sounds flipping incredible. I want this book so much!

Hearne, Kevin, A Plague of Giants [Del Rey, 2017]

Publiser's description:

From the author of The Iron Druid Chronicles, a thrilling novel that kicks off a fantasy series with an entirely new mythology—complete with shape-shifting bards, fire-wielding giants, and children who can speak to astonishing beasts

MOTHER AND WARRIOR
Tallynd is a soldier who has already survived her toughest battle: losing her husband. But now she finds herself on the front lines of an invasion of giants, intent on wiping out the entire kingdom, including Tallynd’s two sons—all that she has left. The stakes have never been higher. If Tallynd fails, her boys may never become men.

SCHOLAR AND SPY
Dervan is an historian who longs for a simple, quiet life. But he’s drawn into intrigue when he’s hired to record the tales of a mysterious bard who may be a spy or even an assassin for a rival kingdom. As the bard shares his fantastical stories, Dervan makes a shocking discovery: He may have a connection to the tales, one that will bring his own secrets to light.

REBEL AND HERO
Abhi’s family have always been hunters, but Abhi wants to choose a different life for himself. Embarking on a journey of self-discovery, Abhi soon learns that his destiny is far greater than he imagined: a powerful new magic thrust upon him may hold the key to defeating the giants once and for all—if it doesn’t destroy him first.

Set in a magical world of terror and wonder, this novel is a deeply felt epic of courage and war, in which the fates of these characters intertwine—and where ordinary people become heroes, and their lives become legend.

Why We Want It: I love Kevin Hearne's writing and his approach to world-building. I am beyond stoked for this upcoming epic fantasy.

Moreno-Garcia, Silvia, The Beautiful Ones [Thomas Dunne Books, 2017]

Publisher's description:

Antonina Beaulieu is in the glittering city of Loisail for her first Grand Season, where she will attend balls and mingle among high society in hopes of landing a suitable husband. But Antonina is telekinetic, and strange events in her past have made her the subject of malicious gossip and hardly a sought-after bride. Now, under the tutelage of her cousin’s wife, she is finally ready to shed the past and learn the proper ways of society.

Antonina, who prefers her family's country home to the glamorous ballrooms of the wealthy, finds it increasingly difficult to conform to society’s ideals for women, especially when she falls under the spell of the dazzling telekinetic performer Hector Auvray. As their romance blossoms, and he teaches her how to hone and control her telekinetic gift, she can't help but feel a marriage proposal is imminent.

Little does Antonina know that Hector and those closest to her are hiding a devastating secret that will crush her world and force her to confront who she really is and what she's willing to sacrifice.

Why We Want It: I think Silvia Moreno-Garcia is too often overlooked when people are looking for their next favorite read. Pick up any of her novels and you better settle in because you will be sucked in and not want to leave her world.

Stearns, R.E., Barbary Station [Saga Press, 2017]

Publisher's description:

Two engineers hijack a spaceship to join some space pirates—only to discover the pirates are hiding from a malevolent AI. Now they have to outwit the AI if they want to join the pirate crew—and survive long enough to enjoy it.

Adda and Iridian are newly minted engineers, but aren’t able to find any work in a solar system ruined by economic collapse after an interplanetary war. Desperate for employment, they hijack a colony ship and plan to join a famed pirate crew living in luxury at Barbary Station, an abandoned shipbreaking station in deep space.

But when they arrive there, nothing is as expected. The pirates aren’t living in luxury—they’re hiding in a makeshift base welded onto the station’s exterior hull. The artificial intelligence controlling the station’s security system has gone mad, trying to kill all station residents and shooting down any ship that attempts to leave—so there’s no way out.

Adda and Iridian have one chance to earn a place on the pirate crew: destroy the artificial intelligence. The last engineer who went up against the AI met an untimely end, and the pirates are taking bets on how the newcomers will die. But Adda and Iridian plan to beat the odds.

There’s a glorious future in piracy…if only they can survive long enough.

Why We Want It: Yes. Yes. Yes. Give this to me now please and thank you. I have been waiting for this book since I first heard about it a year ago.

Microreview [book]: The Guns Above, by Robyn Bennis

Pure flintlock awesomeness!

I adored this novel. The Guns Above has heart and gumption and sass and a brilliant leader in Captain Josette Dupre.

I went into The Guns Above not knowing much outside of flintlock + airship + military. Now, I want all things Dupre! Basically, The Guns Above reads like the first episode in a series you wish you could binge watch all weekend.

Garnia is at war with Vinzhalia over the territory of Quah. Garnia has been at war for generations, so long that many have lost sight of the real reasons they are even fighting beyond the pride of winning.

Recently promoted Senior Lieutenant Josette Dupre is made captain of the airship Mistral, a new and untested design, due to unwittingly making a splash in the newspapers after a particularly epic air battle where Dupre and a sergeant are the only survivors and managed to help turn the tide for the infantry on the ground.  The Aerial Signal Corps is often mocked by the regular army and Dupre's headlines make an enemy of General Lord Fieren, the army's commander.

Aside from the insult of an airship taking the battlefield glory, a woman gaining all the recognition is too much for Lord Fieren. Giving Dupre command of the Mistral, a chasseur class warship built to withstand cannon recoil, Fieren hopes to prove her unfit and unworthy of all the praise. He even goes so far as to plant his nephew, Lord Bernat Manatio Jebrit Aoue Hinkal, a spoiled, flirtatious aristocrat, as an observer (read spy) to report directly to him on Dupre's actions.

We enter the story mid-war right after a very recent battle where Dupre has little time to do much else other than dust herself off after waking in the hospital before having to report to Lord Fieren for what she fears will be her end. Instead she finds her new found newspaper fame has earned her a Royal promotion to Senior Lieutenant, a rank never before held by a woman. Dupre engages Sergeant Jutes, the other survivor from the now infamous crash, to help her take the Mistral in the air.

Dupre lives and breathes all things airship. With a a mere touch she knows what her ship is telling her even before her crew can call it out. Her expertise is unparalleled but being the first woman to have earned the rank of Senior Lieutenant ever as well as being the first woman given an airship command, she has a lot resting on her shoulders to prove to her crew and fellow airship captains.

Despite Lord Hinkal's privileged, and very sheltered, status he does eventually worm his way into the heart of the Mistral's crew. He is a pompous man and we see him towing the line on every possible stereotype for women serving in the military and in command. But Dupre's skill and courage prove to Hinkal she's more than worthy.

The back-and-forth between Hinkal and Dupre are a vital pulse point within the novel. We see Dupre having to suffer the uppity aristocratic attitude in stride as he is a civilian and she is under orders from Lord Fieren to give him unrestricted access. By turn we also see Hinkal getting to experience life outside his normal cushy digs for the first time. Both are incredibly witty with razor-sharp wit causing many humorous exchanges where I found myself laughing out loud.

What I love most about the relationship forming between Hinkal and Dupre is that Bennis leaves it at a friendship level. There isn't the weight of potential romance hanging in the air. We get to see characters flourishing in their element as individuals and as part of a crew. It was refreshing.

More than anything else, The Guns Above is a supreme adventure story. I mean, Bennis has put epic naval battles in the air, talk about taking it up a notch or four. In the sea, if there was a man overboard, there might still be a chance to pick them back up. In the air, a man overboard pretty much means certain death. The battle scenes, even smaller ones, are thrilling and I couldn't help but hold my breath.

Bennis hits it out of the park with this series opener and I can't wait for the next installment. I am thrilled to have Robyn Bennis joining the flintlock adventure ranks.


The Math:
Baseline Assessment: 8/10  

Bonuses: +1 for amazing lead character

Penalties:  N/A  

Nerd Coefficient: 9/10 - This book is pure flintlock awesomeness! 

Our scoring system explained.
 


*** 

POSTED BY: Shana DuBois--extreme bibliophile and seeker of raindrops.
Reference: Bennis, Robyn. The Guns Above [Tor, 2017]

Microreview [book]: The Bands of Mourning, by Brandon Sanderson

The ultimate chimera, this book is a surpassquel: a sequel that surpasses the original!

[Buy it here, or elsewhere, but whatever you do, be sure to read it!]

I’d thought it was just a myth, a story told to children before life beat all the creativity and optimism out of them. There’s no such thing as a surpassquel! How could there be? If the original sets out the narrative boundaries of the story, all subsequent iterations of the story must almost inevitably exist only within the confines of those boundaries. To put it mathematically, sequels are asymptotic—they can approach, but never hope to surpass, the greatness of the original. Plus, on the practical side, authors, for obvious reasons, tend to lead with their best foot forward, so to speak, and as a consequence, it’s exceedingly unlikely that an author would intentionally save his or her best idea for installment six—if the first effort doesn’t catch on, there won’t be any more, after all.

To bring the conversation back (or forward?) to Brandon "Branderson" Sanderson’s Mistborn series, I had even less reason to hope, since after the original Mistborn trilogy, centered around the peerless Vin, books four and five, while interesting and plenty entertaining, didn’t have quite the sparkle of the Vin era. Why hold out any hope that Branderson would find authorial magic on his third attempt at the Wax + Wayne (or wax and wane? Yin and yang?) formula?

Yet somehow…Branderson managed it. And I think I’ve figured out how.

I can’t say much without potentially spoiling the surprise, and in fact that’s part of the reason this sixth book in the Mistverse is so scintillatingly good: it’s basically a detective novel, full of twists and turns galore. But that’s not the main reason. You see, I had always thought the Wax&Wayne stories were especially unlikely to reach surpassquel status, because even within the diegesis, the mythology of Vin et al continues to overshadow the present. Kelsier has become the center of a vaguely Christian religion, while other characters we came to love in the first trilogy are similarly venerated, their real motivations poorly understood under the terrible weight of mythology.

It was an interesting decision for Branderson to let the original series loom so definitively over later stories set in the same world, but it was also, I reasoned, a brave/foolhardy one, since how can we admire this new cast of characters/situations if we—and they themselves!—know they are in every way inferior to the original band of heroes? Why, it would be almost as though someone made a fantastic trilogy of movies about a story of considerable pathos and gravitas, then decided to follow it with another trilogy set in the same world, but with waaaay less at stake, and try to pass it off as equally awe-inspiring (yes, I’m talking about you, Peter Jackson!).  

But in The Bands of Mourning, Branderson has delivered a masterstroke (of the metaphorical pen) showing why this mythological feedback loop can work: 1) he’s found a way to connect the latter-day heroes with the legendary figures of the past, and 2) he’s also exploring, far more dramatically than ever before in the Mistverse, the potential that Allomancy itself might soon be superseded by technological progress…yet also showing how nope, Allomancers will continue to thrive with each new innovation. This sort of myth + technology mash-up felt less successful in the first two Wax and Wayne volumes, but here, it strikes just the right tone.

All in all, it is my considered opinion that The Bands of Mourning is Branderson’s finest work in the Mistborn series—and in fact, his finest work, period!

The Math

Objective Assessment: 7/10

Bonuses: +1 for finding a way to bring the past into the present—and keep both past and present relevant despite the encroaching future; +1 for crafting an excellent mystery

Penalties: none!

Nerd coefficient: 9/10 “Very high quality—a standout in the series, and the genre itself.”

[“What? Only a 9/10, and after such a glowing review?” –some reader

“Ah, but a 9/10 is as rare as a chimera here at Nerds of a Feather…see for yourself!" –me]

***

POSTED BY: Zhaoyun, long on a heretofore quixotic quest to find a surpassquel and regular contributor at Nerds of a Feather since 2013.

REFERENCE: Sanderson, Brandon. The Bands of Mourning. Tor: (January) 2016.

Microreview [book]: The Burning Dark, by Adam Christopher

Great Fun Slightly Marred by TMDI

Christopher, Adam. The Burning Dark. Tor Books (paperback/Kindle): March 2015.

Buy it here starting March 3rd. 

If you're wondering what the "D" stands for above, it's 'Dramatic', as in "Too Much Dramatic Irony", the irksome phenomenon in which we readers instantly know or can easily guess a key plot point but characters struggle on, oblivious to what's right under their collective noses. There's been an epidemic of TMDI in US/UK fiction (books and movies) recently, my favorite example of which is the inevitable stupidity of characters in zombie movies when confronted by the eponymous baddies. Zombies are, one would think, pretty self-explanatory, even at first glance, and yet all too often, sloppy directors and authors try to get us reader/viewers to swallow the ultimate whopper: that most of us, if confronted by zombies face to face, would take absurd risks and wind up getting killed, all out of an obstinate refusal to accept the idea that zombies could exist. 

The DI component is particularly problematic in stories that are, to the reader/viewer, obviously about zombies, since from the very beginning we know zombies are going to appear, and are forced to dread the first 50% or so of the tale, since it's simply going to chronicle the extremely prolonged reluctance of the surviving main characters to accept what, to us, is the fundamental premise of the story! So here's a nickel's worth of free advice for all you would-be zombie storytellers out there: ditch the stupid "this can't be happening!" and "a strange noise? Think I'll go check it out, alone, in the dark, while drunk!" nonsense. How about, instead, we get a few stories showing what people would actually do, if confronted by slavering green-tinged maniacs: instant understanding, followed swiftly by the trusty 'two to the head, make sure they're dead' approach.

"It's so nice to just sit here and share some human companionship!"

This seems as good a time as any to admit that The Burning Dark does not, in fact, have zombies (though it sort of does, now that I think about it). But this otherwise excellent novel does suffer from a bit TMDI, which was particularly acute in my case given my background in Japanese cultural history. You see, the story is purportedly a mystery about, to paraphrase the children's song, "Which of these (characters) is not like the others?" That's because one of the characters is not human at all, but an ancient and vengeful goddess trapped in the underworld and hell-bent (see what I did there?) on revenge against all living things. But there's little real mystery involved. Imagine this Villainess introduced herself as, oh, I don't know, "Orpheus's Wife" yet all the characters failed to make the connection to the 'trying to return from the underworld but betrayed by her husband' idea. We get the Japanese cultural equivalent of "Orpheus's Wife", Izanami, so readers well versed in Things Japanese will know from page one the "secret" identity of the Villainess.

"Aha!" You might say, pouncing on my argument, "most readers won't know that, which means this isn't DI at all!" Not so—Izanami's otherworldliness is made explicit right from the beginning, with glaringly obvious hints dropped to both reader and characters (as well as not even the flimsiest attempt to cast suspicion on any of the other characters as potentially being 'the one not like the others'), but none of the characters figure it out until *right* at the end. If that's not DI, I don't know what is! "Unfair!" I hear you cry, "the story explains why the other characters have trouble realizing that Izanami isn't who or what she claims to be," but that's actually irrelevant, since I'm objecting not to the explanation of the characters' idiocy within the story, but the type of story itself: a story fueled (or in my opinion, polluted) by dramatic irony.

Does it ruin the entire novel, an intricately crafted horror/suspense/sci fi page-turner? Not at all. I'd recommend this book to anyone who likes one or more of the following: a) novels about the unfathomable alienness of, well, alien life forms; b) well-crafted, interesting characters who face Interesting Situations; and/or c) good times. But those hypersensitive to (TM)DI, you have been warned. Take solace in the fact that there's plenty to enjoy, though, especially the intrepid Captain Ida Cleveland, and the fact that there is no (concerted) attempt to pair off the characters in happily ever after-style romantic couples. Not every great sci fi story need rely, after all, on the sort of emotional release the firm promise of heterosexual romantic love provides the audience; Terminator 2 is certainly the finest of the Terminator movies and (not coincidentally!) is the only one of the series to have so deftly avoided any sexual subplot.

Meandering back to the topic of The Burning Dark, it's two thumbs up, minus half a thumb for TMDI!

The Math:

Objective assessment: 7/10

Bonuses: +1 for a mostly mesmerizing story, +1 for fine characters like Captain Ida

Penalties: -2 for an unmysterious streak of (TM)DI

Nerd coefficient: 7/10 "An enjoyable experience, but not without its flaws"

[Before you cry havoc and let slip the words of war, let me hit you with some knowledge: here at NOAF, our reviews are on a bell curve, meaning there are very few 9s/10s--or 1s/2s. In our system, a 7/10 is excellent!]

Zhaoyun, whom you have by now discovered is no fan of dramatic irony, quite likes sf/f/zompire stories that push beyond the inane limitations imposed by convention, and has been singing the praises of such stories here at Nerds of a Feather since 2013.

Microreview [book]: Night of Knives by Ian C. Esslemont

One Fateful, Disappointing Night in Malaz City

The Malazan Book of the Fallen series is enormous, and spans several continents, dozens of major characters, and huge stretches of time. As such, there are some stories that remain untold. In Night of Knives, Esslemont tells one such story; the death of the Malazan Emperor. What generally happened is known to anyone sufficiently far enough into the prime Malazan Book of the Fallen series written by Steven Erikson, but Esslemont fills in the blanks and digs deeper into the event. In some ways, he succeeds in bringing a major event in the Malazen series to light. In other ways, he fails to give sufficient perspective into the death of Kellanved and Dancer.

Night of Knives does not follow Kellanved and Dancer. It follows Kiska and Temper. Kiska is a talent, an untrained mage. Temper is a Malazan veteran, whose former glory came from being part of Dassem Ultor's retinue, The Sword. The entire story takes place during a single 24 hour period, in which Malaz City is in close enough proximity with the Shadow warren that it's easy for creatures from that world to cross over into the mundane world. While most of the city's denizens stay indoors to avoid meeting unpleasant deaths, Kiska is charged with delivering a dead man's message and has ambitions of finally getting out of the island city by showing her worth to the island's mysterious visitors. Temper, seemingly content with being a guard at Mock's Hold, is nonetheless drawn out by concerns for his female companion. The two cross paths a number of times, and cross paths with many major characters from the Malazan universe in the fateful night that ends Kellanved's reign.

This story is considerately smaller in scope than those of the Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen novels. Following only two characters, and primarily only focused on a single day, it makes up for the small scope by fleshing out the details of the environment much more than necessary. I noted several instances in which a room was described with more detail than most of the conflicts in the novel. Esslemont seems to gloss over the details in fights to the point that it is hard to follow what just happened. Fights are often described, more or less, as a shuffle of bodies with one standing victorious and the other lying dead. The next paragraph is a detailed description of a room. The parts that I wanted to have described in detail are lacking, while the parts I could not care less about are given many words. I also found that following the perspectives of Temper and Kiska led to many situations in which Important Things were occurring were obscured by the fact that those characters were nearby but not present for the events. What is one of the most important events in the story is described from the perspective of someone listening to it occurring one floor above them, then going to look at the aftermath. That was disappointing, to say the least.

I often found the novel also suffers from some mechanical problems. Esslemont has a bad habit of giving two characters voice in a single short paragraph. This often came in the form of line of dialog, character switch, line of dialog, end paragraph. This made dialog very hard to follow sometimes as I expect voices to change by paragraph, not within a single paragraph. It also features something common to the Malazan books that some might like more than others. Sections of the book are presented in the third person but following a single character. Everything is described from that character's perspective. If the reader knows Kiska is talking to or describing a particular character, but Kiska doesn't know them, it is written in a manner that would befit Kiska's knowledge. If I just read a section in which Temper fights something, and Kiska is observing this but does not know Temper, Kiska's observation will be written without any mention of Temper, just a description of a heavily-armored man with two swords. But the Malazan series has many heavily-armored men with two swords, so the descriptions are not unique enough to make it clear who is being described sometimes. It often left me feeling like I was seeing something important happening but didn't pick up on the full significance of events. Combine this with another Malazan trademark of characters possessing many names, and we have a story that is certainly interesting and worth reading but hard to follow at times and almost requiring a re-reading for further insights.

Finally, if you have not read any of the other Malazan books, particularly Erikson's series, you will not only be lost in the details, but miss all of what makes this story important. Night of Knives may be the start of Esslemont's Malazan contributions, but it is far from the start of the story. In fact, I would not even recommend reading this without having first read up to book six of Erikson's series, The Bonehunters. 

By now, it probably sounds like I did not enjoy Night of Knives! That is not the case. Despite being slightly difficult to follow for many of the above reasons, the story is worth reading if you're a Malazan fan. Temper is an interesting character, and the flashback to his time in The Sword is a fascinating look back at Dassem Ultor. The treachery within the Malazan empire is in full focus, and several of its best characters are given special attention in the story. There is even a subplot involving the Stormriders that is given very little attention but sounds as interesting as the story being told. Unfortunately, if you're not a Malazan fan, there are not many good reasons to start with Night of Knives.


The Math

Baseline Assessment: 4/10

Bonuses: +1 if you've read up to The Bonehunters and are a Malazan fan. +1 for the Dassem Ultor flashback. +1 for the tiny bits of Stormriders teasing.

Penalties: -1 for being a bad start if you have not read six other enormous novels before getting into Malazan. -1 for too much time spent describing scenery. -1 for mechanical problems and slavishly adhering to perspective to the point of confusing the reader.

Nerd Coefficient: 3/10 if you're going into it with no Malazan knowledge. (Just bad), 5/10 if you're a Malazan reader. (Problematic, but has redeeming qualities)

***

POSTED BY: brian, sci-fi/fantasy/video game dork and contributor since 2014

Reference: Esslemont, Ian Cameron. Night of Knives [Tor Books, 2004]

Microreview [(micro!) book]: The Ice Dragon, by George R.R. Martin

Super-short but surprisingly poignant story of self-discovery

Martin, George R.R. The Ice Dragon. Tor Books, 2014.

Buy it here starting on Oct. 21st.

This is one of those good news, bad news kind of situations. First, the good news: this packs a surprising wallop, emotionally speaking. Adara, a young girl, seems to have a very special relationship with winter--and, we soon learn, with the eponymous Ice Dragon. It is what sets her apart, and Martin reveals, in his skillfully understated way, that this yawning distance between her and her family cuts her deeper than any icy blast of winter. But ice must one day melt, and Adara chooses to risk her unique nature in an act of love for her family, despite the hurt their coldness has caused. It is a question well worth asking: would you give up what makes you unique, to save people who don't fully appreciate you? All in all, The Ice Dragon is a well-written, thoughtful, unexpectedly moving story of a young girl coming to terms with her own identity. What more could one ask for?

In a word: more! This, dear reader, is the bad news: it's really short! How I wish this lovely tale would continue longer, and take us deeper into Adara's adventures! (The chance of a 'sequel' to Adara's story as told here is virtually nil, due to developments near the end.) Of course, this is an illustrated novella, or in truth a short story, with a very young target audience, essentially late elementary school (another mark in its favor--despite being written for ten-year olds, this story captivated somewhat-older-than-ten me too), so I have no right to demand a Song of Ice and Fire-style multi-volume epic, I suppose, and yet that's exactly what I want to demand. The gauntlet has been thrown, Martin--now let's see if you can find a write-around and rescue Adara from the harrowing fate of being sequel-less!

Happy Columbus Day, by the way--never has there been a sillier holiday, in which we are meant to celebrate the breathtakingly Eurocentric notion of 'discovering' a new continent (comically mistaken as India, let us not forget) despite the facts that 1) Columbus wasn't even the first European to 'discover' the Americas, 2) he never landed on the continent, only on nearby islands, and 3) I'm still having trouble with the "there were lots of people living there already" angle!

I think this should be renamed Irony Day, and we should celebrate it by going out to buy Indian-American food. Put *that* chicken tikka masala in your pipe and smoke it, Chris!

The Math

Objective assessment: 7/10

Bonuses: +1 for being emotionally gripping (to older-than-ten-year-olds too), +1 for its thoughtful and well-written treatment of the uniqueness problem

Penalties: -1 for being short, and -1 for seriously, it's really short!

Nerd coefficient: 7/10 "An enjoyable experience--in the way that riding a nine-second roller coaster would be fun (as well as frustratingly short)"

Zhaoyun, NOAF stalwart since 2013, is reputed to like all manner of sf/f stories, but especially those that managed to sustain the thrill of a nine-second roller coaster yet offer the duration of a Noh play (and for those of you who don't know--that means looooooong). 

Microreview [book]: The Three-Body Problem, by Liu Cixin, translated by Ken Liu

A Slightly Uneven but Thoroughly Haunting Hypothetical!

Liu Cixin, Ken Liu trans. The Three-Body Problem. Tor Books: 2014.

Buy it here starting in October 2014.

There's been plenty of science fiction written about the terrifying—but monolithic—menace of warlike alien civilizations, as well as some trapped within the fallacy that any technologically superior civilization must also be morally superior. Liu Cixin's Three Body, ably translated by Ken Liu, is one of the few treatments of this question that goes beyond these simplistic ideas of first contact to explore the effect knowledge of the existence of extraterrestrial life might have on humans. In particular (and I can say this without giving much away in terms of spoilers, since the ultimate topic of this book is very clear right from the beginning), is it not conceivable that some, even some very intelligent and passionate people, might welcome an invasion with open arms?

The story moves chronologically, or I should say diachronically, through several eras in twentieth-century Chinese and world history, beginning during China's Cultural Revolution. At first, before the ultimate trajectory of the plot is entirely clear, the sizable portion devoted to Cultural Revolution may seem too long, or even needless and without any obvious connection to what follows, most of which is set in the contemporary twenty-first century. But all I can say with impunity is: the Cultural Revolution could (and should) make anyone despair for the human race. In any case, Three Body is a lot more convincing in this respect, say, Patrick "McDreamy" Dempsey's Faustian deal with the Decepticons in Transformers: Dark of the Moon.

Dempsey's better as a lover (Grey's Anatomy!) than a 'traitor to the human race', so he failed to convince...

Sometimes confusing is the author's tendency to shift protagonists, for it seems that just as we are growing used to observing the strange events of the world from the perspective of the nanotechnologist Dr. Wang, off we jump into someone else's skin. But on the whole, this sort of perspectival shift is less distracting than the narrative-freezing expository sections in which characters tend to relate, rather impersonally (that is, without any polite fiction of being in dialogue with someone, but instead long, often italicized block passages), key exposition that is vital to advance the plot but (it seems) the author could often find no more clever way to bring to the reader's attention than what amounts to a written confession. I was reminded of Natsume Sōseki's rhetorical device of the letter in Kokoro: the final third of the book is simply the text of a poignant letter, and something similar (though less appealing) is going on here, albeit in bits and pieces rather than in one giant chunk. The most jarring such section was when Ye explains the truth about the Red Coast base to Wang (but with only the barest hint that this information was delivered in conversation with Wang); more successful was the interrogation device used for Ye's later confessions.

Nonetheless, portions of the book glimmer with haunting force (now that's a strange metaphor!). In particular, the sections devoted to Wang's explorations of the video game "Three Body" are quite intriguing, piquing the reader's interest and provoking us to search, with Wang, for the truth behind this bizarre game. In fact, it was only in sections like this, where we see Wang himself actively struggling towards these key discoveries, that characters like Wang began to take on the solidity of 'real' (that is, fully fleshed out) individuals rather than archetypes. Liu (which coincidentally is also the last name of the unrelated translator!) shows considerable talent at presenting characters as rather stereotypical, only to surprise readers with their hidden depths later on in the story.

Despite it ending on something of a cliffhanger, or at least without any 'solution' to the problem facing the main characters, I felt the story to be complete, so I was astonished to find that this volume is actually just the first in a trilogy. But needless to say, Three Body was certainly interesting enough to arouse my interest in what will befall the characters—and humankind itself—in books two and three. I'll be eagerly awaiting the English translation of these volumes, since in fact book one was *almost* good enough to motivate me to try to read it in the original—and between you and me, that's powerful evidence that it was good indeed!

The Math

Objective Assessment: 6/10

Bonuses: +1 for a speculative fiction approach to the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle-like effect 'knowledge of being observed by an Other' might have on humankind; + 1 for the haunting treatment of the video game Three Body and the slow reveal of the mystery at its core

Penalties: -1 for trying for the Natsume Sōseki 'letter from Sensei' angle but not doing it quite as well

Nerd coefficient: 7/10 "An enjoyable experience, but not without its flaws"

[What does a 7 mean here at NOAF? It means that this book was really, really good!]

This review courtesy of sf/f fan and medium-time NOAF contributor Zhaoyun, Chinese in nothing but name and thus uniquely positioned to evaluate a story that may have elements specific to China (and Chinese) but also strives to ask more universal questions...