Mini-Review: Los Nefilim by T. Frohock

In Los Nefilim, T. Frohock imagines a world where angels, demons, and their human hybrids (nefilim) live and act mostly unnoticed in the world. The focus is on Barcelona in the 1930s and Diago, a unique nefilim with both angel and demon blood. Diago’s family is threatened as angels and demons battle for the future of the world in the face of oncoming war.

Magical battle, torture, betrayal. Yes these things occur and are important. But the soul of the book is in love and relationships. A son and his estranged father, the son a father of a son he does not know, lovers, friends. Add time and betrayal. The sum is greater than the parts where the past must be addressed to accept the present, to know oneself and finally submit to the love all around. To fight without quarter for the ones that are loved. This is Los Nefilim, historic context with consequences for all of humanity, but played out at a personal level.

The foundation of this powerful story is a poetic prose, dark and moody, yet infused with color and music as it embodies hope, love and loyalty. Yes, there is a lot of conflict in that last statement, as is appropriate in a story full of internal and external conflict. It’s the grounded, devoted love that keeps it all together.

As you have probably guessed by now, I really enjoyed Los Nefilim. It’s beautiful, moving, filled with suspense. It kept me up at night because I could not put it down. I want to read more of Diago, Miquel, Rafael, Guillermo, and others. It’s historic urban fantasy, not quite alternative history, and it’s a powerful portrayal of love and family.

Additionally, it’s worth noting that the main family unit at the heart of Los Nefilim is two male partners. The relationship is genuine, heartfelt and simply lovely. I await the day when focus on a same-sex couple is not noteworthy and commonplace, but we aren’t there yet, and it’s books like Los Nefilim that will get us there.

A few logistical notes: Los Nefilim is in reality a print collection of 3 novellas that were initially published electronically: In Midnight’s Silence, Without Light or Guide, and The Second Death. The reality is that the three independent novellas seamlessly work as a traditionally structured novel. Read it as a serial, collection, or single work – it doesn’t matter. But I certainly recommend that you read it.

Los Nefilim: Amazon

In Midnight’s Silence: Amazon

Without Light or Guide: Amazon

The Second Death: Amazon

Mini-Review: The Builders by Daniel Polansky

The Builders by Daniel Polansky is at its basic, a novella about a bad joke. No, I won’t give you the punchline or even tell you what the joke is – knowing that it’s there, you’ll figure it out. And the suggestion that book is about a bad joke is in no way my saying that the book is a bad book – it’s quite the opposite, but it does help frame the story. Appreciation of just where this book comes from makes it all the more enjoyable, as for example, a Quentin Tarantino movie is.

“Revenge is a dish best served cold”

The Builders begins with this idea at its core, and the story is very much full of references not only to revenge tales, but also to variations of small teams at war and/or criminal gangs on a mission. I will not list them – they are legion – and I suspect many a reader will come up with their own, and those may or may not align with the ideas of Polansky as he wrote it all.

The mysterious Captain begins the story by recruiting his team, or more correctly, getting the old gang back together for one final mission to redress their last failed effort. We know one of the crew was a traitor, of course we do not know who. We can only suspect that it’s all only the beginning.

The Captain’s crew is a mixed group of the most unlikable sort – assassins, artillery, demolitions, snipers, etc. – but one and all, they are killers. Some of them get along, some hate everyone, the Captain holds them together, and for all that it may only be due to the blood they have spilled together. Or that the Captain is the meanest, most dangerous of them all.

And I suppose that I should mention that all the characters are anthropogenic animals whose personalities, instincts, and deadliness often correspond with their species. The mysterious, deadly Captain who all fear – he’s a mouse. His crew has a weasel, badger, rat, mole, salamander, owl, and possum. One of them may be French. They are up against the likes of an ermine, armadillo, cat, snake, fox, skunk, and legions of rats.

Personalities may be large, but the prose is minimal, dark, and dripping in morbid, gallows humor. There is bombastic boasting, dark grumbling, and the flash of knives in the dark. The final, suicide mission is told, blood and gore abound, betrayal, victory, and death. Who lives, who dies? Does it mean anything? Was it cold enough? Was it worth it…was it worth anything?

Who has the final laugh?

Will it be you dear reader, will you get the joke?

The Builders: Amazon

Mini-Review: The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Patrick Rothfuss

Patrick Rothfuss warns you not to read his latest novella, The Slow Regard of Silent Things – for reals – he says it repeatedly in the Foreword. I can understand this – it’s very different from the epic fantasy he’s most famous for. People looking for anything that’s more of the same will be…unrewarded in their quest. That doesn’t mean one shouldn’t read the novella – because it’s good, very good in fact. But not classic fantasy and not what most people think of when they want to read something from Rothfuss.

The Slow Regard of Silent Things is more a character study of Auri, a minor character from his world of epic fantasy. It’s simply the telling of a few days in Auri’s life as she prepares to meet with Kvothe, told in her own form of first person. The power of Rothfuss’ story telling is quite evident even in this more experimental novella – he makes a multi-page description of making soap exciting and entertaining. His playful prose only enhances his storytelling mojo, which makes this weird tragedy of an exploration of Auri something fun to read.

Of course the real beauty of the story is Auri – she is a tragic character, ‘broken’ in some way. But she’s found her world, her form of happiness, and it works. It reminds us to look past the exterior and consider an actual perspective. I think many will find her world something quite special, something they can relate to in some way, and something that brings of tear to their eye.

For the most part the experiment of The Slow Regard of Silent Things works well. Rothfuss shows flexibility and understanding and he once again entertains. Though he does slip up a few times where the story abruptly slips into a male gaze, and it still seems unfair that the world of Auri in this story entirely revolves around Kvothe.

So, some fans may heed Rothfuss’ warning and not read it. Many will not – some of those will love it, some will not. But I think a lot of them will ultimately feel as I do, that it is was a wonderful regard of a moment that has me even more excited for book three.

The Name of the Wind: My Review (don’t read, this one is old and I was such a ‘young’ blogger), Indiebound, Book Depository, Amazon

The Wise Man’s Fear: My Review, Indiebound, Book Depository, Amazon

The Slow Regard of Silent Things: Indiebound, Book Depository, Amazon

Review: Crack’d Pot Trail by Steven Erikson

I don’t know whether I should be scared to review Crack’d Pot Trail by Steven Erikson (US, UK, Canada, Indiebound) or if I should cackle maniacally at the awesome irony that is this fan, reviewer (and even critic) reviewing a book that is all about fandom, author intent, artistic integrity, criticism, contemplative self-doubt and cannibalism.

Crack’d Pot Trail is the latest novella by Erikson in his Tales of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach novella series that takes place in his Malazan world – though at 180 pages, I’m not sure it can be truly considered a novella anymore. Bauchelain and Korbal Broach are notoriously evil necromancers and now have a group of honorable hunters dedicated to seeing them dead. The action takes place along a pilgrimage trail in an essentially anonymous desert where hunters, artists, groupies, pilgrims and one critic find themselves on the same trail – a trail of the worst kind of desperation.

The horses of the noble hunters are far too valuable, the mules pulling the coach of a rich pilgrim are far too valuable, but the food is gone people have got to eat. Everyone knows it’s improper to eat women, noble knights, and even critics – leaving the artists, whom everyone also know are not of any real value (except perhaps as dinner). The hapless artists find themselves competing each night to not become dinner as everyone becomes a fan or a critic and grows to enjoy the taste of desperate artist.

Malazan fans will be disappointed that this Tale of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach doesn’t really feature Bauchelain and Korbal Broach much at all – instead we get a whole new suite of characters that could lead into their own serial line of stories. This concentrates on the hunters and the artists that feed them.

As I see it, the most effective way to describe what Erikson is doing with Crack’d Pot Trail is to be blunt and a bit foul. Erikson has balls – balls that Steven Colbert would envy. Erikson has a lot to say on story telling, artistic integrity and intent, fandom, and criticism – and at least some of what he is saying is something of a big FU to his fans and critics alike. As the artists (generally poets and other verbal storytellers) tell there tales in defense of literally being eaten for dinner, the audience often interrupts and questions the artist – why are you talking about that, get to the details, more sex, more violence, etc. Additionally, there is one professional critic among the audience (literally a judge at the contest the artists are ultimately traveling to) – a critic who often jumps in and demands more details and explanations – often about completely inane aspects of the story. The picture painted isn’t pretty…and then it gets nasty.

The point becomes very clear and it bites hard. Hell, one of the groupies for an artist becomes a rather sardonic zombie tagging along the periphery of the trail and the object of her admiration meets and unfortunate end along with the other groupies. After all, what artist doesn’t dream of eating their fans and what fan doesn’t dream of eating the heart out of their beloved?

It’s not all so biting – Erikson tells things from the point of view of one of the artists and through this artist he basically bears all. We see the artist’s view on life, the universe and art. We see his justifications for doing what he does. We see the heart of his intent. It’s only fitting that this artist enters into a separate agreement – a promise to provide redemption to one of his fellow travelers or to die if he fails to satisfy. And the end – is there redemption, is there art, or did a whole bunch of people just die?

And lest I forget – the pilgrimage is to visit the shrine of the indifferent god. That’s not appropriate, not appropriate at all.

Erikson has written something I think all authors dream of writing at one point or another but are either too scared or too smart to actually put on paper. Well, as a fan, a critic, and a far from noble knight, I have to say that I loved every juicy bit of Crack'd Pot Trail – I think I’ve developed a taste for it. 9/10

Related Posts: The Lees of Laughter's End review, Interview with Steven Erikson, Dust of Dreams Review, Toll the Hounds review, Reaper's Gale review, The Bonehunters review, Return of the Crimson Guard review

Mini-Review: Fast Ships, Black Sails Edited by Ann and Jeff VanderMeer

I review pretty much everything I read, but here’s a case where I’m so thoroughly uninspired to write a review, that I have finally decided to not do (well, mostly). So, I’ll give a few general thoughts here, but I certainly don’t consider it a full review (probably not even a mini-review).

My being uninspired to write much about Fast Ships, Black Sails Edited by Ann and Jeff VanderMeer (US, UK, Canada, Indibound) actually makes sense because I was quite uninspired while reading it. I found the majority of the stories to simply be uninteresting. I’m not sure why – it could be that the stories tend toward a more literary side than I fully appreciated, it could be that I’m not really into pirates (which I’m not sure is true), it could be that I read this just before (and a bit after) the a book I was very excited to read, and it could be that the stories just didn’t appeal to me. Whatever case is, I simply didn’t enjoy reading most of the stories in this anthology, or I didn’t enjoy them enough to care.

Of course there were a few that I did enjoy – generally the stories that tend towards the absurd (people who know me and my sense of humor well would not find this surprising in the least). “Castor on Troubled Waters” by Rhys Hughes and “Voyage of the Iguana” by Steve Aylett are prime examples of these sorts and they both amused me greatly. I also quite enjoyed “Elegy to Gabrielle, Patron Saint of Healers, Whores, and Righteous Thieves” by Kelly Barnhill. But the rest failed to stand out at all. And one comment that I don’t want to forget – just how many gender-bending twists with surprise female captains are necessary? By the end of the anthology, I couldn’t help but think ‘surprise, yet another female captain’. I understand (and approve of) the idea, but it just felt way overdone by the end.

So, Fast Ships, Black Sails is an anthology that really missed the mark with me (with only a few exceptions out of the 19 stories). Tread at your own risk with this one. 4.5/10

Review: Escape From Hell! by Hal Duncan

Hal Duncan stormed on to the SFF scene a few years ago with his much talked about, love-it or hate-it, debut – Vellum (US, UK, Canada). Since, he’s become known for long, thoughtful and often angry posts at his blog (sadly, it’s fairly silent these days) and reports from various conventions speak of a fun guy who really likes his drink. Escape From Hell! (US, UK, Canada) is his new novella from MonkeyBrain Books – and it’s just as wildly unconventional as I expected.

To borrow from the refreshingly un-PC words of Duncan – a hitman, a hooker, a hobo and a homo die and go to Hell. This version of Hell looks a bit like New York City, is run with a painful bureaucracy, and is well covered by Hell’s own media star. These four very different people find themselves swept up in events and choose to do what hasn’t been done before – escape from Hell. As they fumble along the way, leaving a bigger and bigger ‘body’ count, they free the angel Lucifer who has been held prisoner by the actual lord of Hell, the angel Gabriel, and real chaos begins.

Duncan gives the reader an insanely wild ride like nothing I’ve read before – the closest it comes to would be a wonderfully offensive B-movie. The jacket cover proclaims ‘it’s Escape From New York meets Jacob’s Ladder – and I have to agree that it’s a pretty good description.

The book is fast-paced, yet executed in a way that allows us to know the four main characters rather quickly. We start with witnessing each of their deaths – one goes out in a blaze of sinful glory, two are unceremoniously beat to death, and the crazy hobo throws himself from rooftop. Next we see them processed into their personal level of Hell. And finally, escape.

A strange sympathy develops with the characters – I quickly felt that the homo and the hobo certainly don’t ‘belong’ in hell, the whore seems to be more of a victim than anything, and the hitman is the perfect example of someone ‘deserving’ of damnation. I found myself instantly routing for each. Meanwhile, Duncan impressively and subtly condemns the damnation of each as he furiously advances the story.

The majority of this novella is set-up for what can only be described as the ‘kick ass’ escape itself. The novel peaks at the freeing of Lucifer, with a barely controlled free-fall from there. Lucifer provides the final focal mechanism to bring the book together – and the loudest condemnation of Hell and its ultimate creators – God and man together.

Duncan peppers this novel with unfriendly shots at what (presumably) boils his blood. The news channel of Hell is Vox News (sure sounds like Fox), the initial entry into Hell seems a lot like US customs, and Duncan once again references the tragic, hate-filled murder of Matthew Shepard. But the most pointed criticism seems leveled at the media. Hell is literally controlled in part by the media – in fact, in Duncan’s Hell it wouldn’t be Hell without the media.

Escape From Hell! is a wild ride through the literal Hell – a pulp adventure and angry condemnation. I suppose that some may consider it blasphemy – I consider it brilliant fiction. It’s rare for me to think such, but Escape From Hell! would make a great movie, if anyone had the guts to make it. 9/10

Related Posts: Review of Vellum, Interview with Hal Duncan

Review: The Lees of Laughter’s End by Steven Erikson

(n) lees: the sediment (dregs) from fermentation of an alcoholic beverage; the solid element which precipitates at the end of the fermentation; cells of dead yeast, pulp of berries and, in red wines, pips and grape-skin.

The Lees of Laughter’s End is the third published novella (second chronologically) by Steven Erikson that follows the horrifically strange and powerful duo, Bauchelain and Korbal Broach, and their inept manservant, Emmacipor Reese (known to the sailors as Mancy the Luckless). These novels take Erikson’s typical dark, gallows humor and turn it more sardonic and even absurd as these two enigmatic mages (at least one of which is psychotic) attract powerfully strange events.

Laughter’s End is a swath of ocean within Erikson’s Malazan world where nightmares come to life – it’s the place the huge and monstrous dhenrabi go to mate, where sharks that would dwarf Jaws both feed and flee the spoils. It’s a place where spirits of the dead have the power to rise, to become solid elements – particularly spirits bound to the iron nails ships are constructed from.

The Suncurl is a ship traveling The Wastes on its way from Lamentable Moll to the southern coast of Genebakis. The captain knows nothing of sailing and is accompanied by three deserter soldiers and a drunken first mate (who actually knows a bit sailing) as they flee Stratum for unknown reasons. In Lamentable Moll they took on a new crew and three passengers – Bauchelain, Korbal Broach, and Mancy the Luckless.

The Lees of Laughter’s End begins as the Suncurl is about to enter Laughter’s End and the horrors it will awaken. A creature new to Erikson readers – a lich – is raised and terrorizes the crew while Korbal Broach goes fishing with some interesting bait and lets his ‘child’ out its cage to ‘play’ with the lich – things begin to get bloody. Who will be the lees of this fermented mess?

Erikson has gift with names that is unmatched in The Lees of Laughter’s End and adds to the perfectly dark and sardonic prose. Gust Hubb, Birds Mottle, and Heck Urse are deserter soldiers who along with the rest of crew are subjected to a horrific chain of events, made comic in its random, pointlessness absurdity. First mate Ably Druther does indeed ‘druther’ ably and eventually meets an appropriate end. Briv the Cook’s helper, Briv the Carpenter’s helper, and Briv the rope braider inspire a running ‘who’s on first’ routine culminating in a scene with all three in the same place, epitomizing the dark and absurd hilarity of the novella.

Erikson’s novellas are great examples of short fantasy that could be accessible to any audience, but will be most appreciated by those familiar with his Malazan series. The price and limited nature of their release makes them difficult to come-by for the average reader, but if you have means or opportunity, I recommend take it – Erikson’s writing is better in short form than long and the humor is perfect for a mind like mine. The Lees of Laughter’s End easily equals Blood Follows and The Healthy Dead. 8/10

Related Posts: Interview with Steven Erikson, Reaper's Gale review, The Bonehunters review, Return of the Crimson Guard review, Crack'd Pot Trail Review

Review: The New Space Opera edited by Gardner Dozois and Jonathan Strahan

“science fiction is for real, space opera is for fun”
-Brian Aldiss

The term ‘space opera’ dates to the early 1940s when it was coined by Tucker Wilson to describe “the hacky, grinding, stinking, outworn space-ship yarn”. Through time it has evolved past its derogatory roots to be a general descriptor of wide-ranging adventures in space, often lauding human conquest of the universe. In the 1970s, authors began to reinvent and reinvigorate this aging form and the ‘new space opera’ evolved in concert with cyberpunk, trending toward darker topics, stronger characterization, and the use of new technologigies and infusion of hard sci-fi elements and scientific rigour, while distancing itself from the triumph of mankind style of old. The New Space Opera collects original short stories and novellas by some of the most prolific writers of the new space opera tradition of the past 30 years. Authors include Gwyneth Jones, Ian McDonald, Robert Reed, Paul J. McAuley, Greg Egan, Kage Baker, Peter F. Hamilton, Ken MacLeod, Tony Daniel, James Patrick Kelly, Alastair Reynolds, Mary Rosenblum, Stephen Baxter, Robert Sivlerburg, Gregory Benford, Walter Jon Williams, Nancy Kress, and Dan Simmons.

I feel the need to provide some context for the rest of the review – space opera, new and old, is not a sub-genre that I have much experience with. This doesn’t come from any dislike, just the limits of time and scope on my reading for the past 20 years. Another area of limited exposure is shorter fiction – yes I’ve read and liked quite a bit of it, but the novel is the form I fell for and spend the most time with. I feel the need to provide this context because my over all impression of The New Space Opera sums up best with ‘meh’ and I believe that this is equally a result of my reading background as it is with the stories themselves.

As with most anthology collections, The New Space Opera has both winners and losers. Unremarkable and forgettable are the terms that jump into my mind regarding most of the contents – not one story kept me up thinking late into the night, and very few left any lasting impression. At the same time, I wouldn’t call any stories bad. It could be argued that space opera (new and old) is more often aimed at the entertainment/escapist side of fiction, but then the most entertaining stories can get my pulse racing and stick with me will into the night and beyond.

Another contributing factor is the editorial introduction to each story. In other anthologies these jewels are often as good (or better) than the stories that follow – not so with The New Space Opera. These introductions offer little more than an extended bibliography and leave the impression that the editors don’t have their fingers on the current pulse of the genre, but remain in somewhere in the past.

As I indicated above, there are a few entries that stand above, justifying the time spent reading this book – these are the stories I’ll highlight in more detail. Those stories not mentioned were lost in the mediocrity of the majority.

The first six offerings presented little of great interest to me. ”Maelstrom” by Kage Baker presents a fun look at an eccentric’s goal to bring the art of the theatre to a colonial Mars, but was too jumpy and uncertain in its execution to ultimately satisfy. This sets up the seventh story, “Blessed by an Angel” by Peter F. Hamilton, to shine as the most skilled presentation to this point. We see parallel story arcs where a young woman in a free and fun society has her personal rights violated by a pair of shadowy agents next to the story of an angel spreading his genes in an effort to help humanity evolve to a more enlightened place. The stories meet and the angelic life seems much less angelic, the shadowy agent a little less bad, and the reader is left to wonder if either side has it right.

Ken MacLeod’s “Who’s Afraid of Wolf359” and “Dividing the Sustain” by James Patrick Kelly weave heavy doses of dead-pan humor, with MacLeod shining a bit brighter with his banter between a long-lived human and a spaceship as they encounter an isolated human population. Gregory Benford’s “The Worm Turns” isn’t as successful at the witty banter between human and machine in his first contact story of wormhole wrestling. Though as far humor is concerned, “Send them Flowers” by Walter Jon Williams rules with its short-on-cash rogue-ish captain and his Don Juan companion as they aim to stay one leap ahead of slighted lovers in an inter-dimensional ruckus. This story could have been written by Joss Whedon – thinking of which, isn’t it a shame that Whedon doesn’t write short (or long) fiction?

Robert Silverberg reinvents Arabian Nights in “The Emperor and the Maula” with a fairy tale for the stars and a human race that has found nirvana, only to have it annexed and enslaved by an ever expanding galactic empire.

My favorite installments seem to be the stories that get a bit more ‘political’ and pointed in their aim. “Art of War” by Nancy Kress features the estranged son of a heroic military leader in a time of war between humans and an alien race. Through the recovery of looted art he discovers the key to their enemy’s war, an answer beyond the willingness of the general to accept. The inflexibility of those in power proves deadly in the end. “Minla’s Flowers” by Alastair Reynolds left the longest impression on me in a story of unintended consequences where a man called Merlin chooses compassion against better judgment and helps a primitive human society rapidly evolve to avoid the upcoming unavoidable destruction of their planet. Power corrupts and humanity never seems to change.

Though it wasn’t my favorite, the strongest story is the last –“Muse of Fire” by Dan Simmons. As with much of his writing, “Muse of Fire” is heavily peppered with literary reference and Shakespeare in particular. A troop of players travels part of the galaxy to entertain the long enslaved human race – an unprecedented opportunity to perform for their masters arises. What Shakespearean play will save humanity – King Lear, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet …?

For those that are fans of space opera, old and new, The New Space Opera is a collection you’ll enjoy, and for those that are seeking adventurous stories in fascinating settings afar, this is a collection you’ll enjoy. For me it is too much mediocrity surrounded by too few gems – but those gems just might be enough. 6/10

Shadow Twin by Gardner Dozois, George R.R. Martin, and Daniel Abraham

A three-way collaboration on a novella sounds like something that won’t work well, despite having big names like those involved in Shadow Twin. However, in this case, it works – not perfectly, but quite well.

Ramon is an independent prospector on a remote, earth-like planet that has recently been colonized by humans. Down on his luck, he sets out to score ‘the big one’ in the distant mountains to the north where little prospecting has been done. He discovers a hidden alien race that attacks and destroys his camp. Ramon escapes.

The aliens, needing to remain hidden, hunt for Ramon. In order to properly do so, they create a clone to do the tracking – classic ‘set a thief to catch a thief’ thinking. Cloned Ramon struggles with his identity, having all the memories of real Ramon, and grudgingly aids an alien companion, secretly hoping for escape.

The above synopsis does not do justice to the Shadow Twin, which is a powerful story. Ramon is not a likeable guy – he angry, violent, self-destructive, and abusive towards women. Yet, Ramon shows a clear love and even respect for the environment, struggling with the consequences of discovering mineral wealth. The superb characterization actually allows for sympathy for this bastard of a man early in the story. It is also very refreshing to have a protagonist that is of a Latino descent.

The early experiences of cloned Ramon hit on some very primal fears of humanity – claustrophobia, injury, nakedness, despair; you fear for Ramon. His later struggles with self, especially as he is confronted with his real self, is powerfully written. Ramon sees what he is, what he is becoming, and strives to for change – but at what cost.

My only real complaints about the story are related to wanting more. The aliens are intriguing and utterly alien in thought and action, yet work as little more than a literary device. I want more – Martin asserts in the Afterward that Shadow Twin should be a full-length novel; I agree wholeheartedly. Here’s to hoping.

One of the most interesting aspects of Subterranean Press Limited Edition of Shadow Twin is the Afterward I mention above – a conversational back-and-forth between Duzois, Martin, and Abraham. Dozois and Martin reminisce about the origins of the novella in the late 1970s, when Dozois originally conceived the concept. Abraham occasionally quips about how old he wasn’t at the time. We see its resurrection after 20 years in limbo and here of the contrasts between the modernist style of Abraham and the old-school styles of Martin and Dozois. The collaboration comes together seamlessly, with different styles and voices blended.

On my 10-point rating scale, Shadow Twin rates a solid 8. I enjoyed this novella a lot and recommend it to all fans of SFF, not just the Martin fanboys (and fangirls). The only thing lacking is more – and there just might be hope for that.