This is, I think, the third time I read Feed: each time, I firmly intend to carry on with the story, but I always need Reviewed for The Bibliophibian.
This is, I think, the third time I read Feed: each time, I firmly intend to carry on with the story, but I always need a little bit of a break after the gut punch that is the ending of Feed itself. This time, I’m successful (as I type this, I’m 100 pages from the end of Deadline), but it’s still a gut punch, and Seanan McGuire/Mira Grant really knows what she’s doing with that. I love Georgia in all her capableness, I love the world-building with the Irwins and the Fictionals and the Newsies and just… all the stuff that’s been put into making it a fully realised post-apocalyptic, post-privacy world.
It’s especially weird to read after the last US elections and President Trump, because the Senator they’re following to the White House is actually a Republican. And he’s actually a good guy whom you can kind of root for.
I think maybe the one argument I have with it is that some parts of it lack quite the tension you’d expect from being chased by a zombie horde. Personally, it works — after all, this is Georgia’s job — but still, it’s not quite the endless ride of thrills some readers might expect from a zombie novel.
I’ll stick to not touching the epidemiology, etc, here. I’m not sure I can quite see how viruses based on the common cold and Marburg could recombine — they’re so different in structure and needs — but on the other hand, to paraphrase a great fictional scientist, viruses, uh, find a way. Just look at what HIV can do.
I don’t love Shaun — he’s okay, but not my thing — but darn, am I ever into Georgia as a character. More of her all over the place, please....more
The Gracekeepers seemed like it had a lot of potential. The idea of the Gracekeepers, the drowned world it takes place in, the promise of the politicaThe Gracekeepers seemed like it had a lot of potential. The idea of the Gracekeepers, the drowned world it takes place in, the promise of the political and religious background that hedged the characters round, the webbed hands of Callanish… There’s a fairytale-like feeling to the narration at times, in the feeling of inevitability about every step the characters take — I don’t know if that’s something other readers took away from the book, but it felt like it was to me. Callanish and North were on a collision course all along, however improbable, and they were going to find each other anyway.
I found the world interesting, but it also felt kind of superficial. I didn’t feel like there was a wider world beyond Callanish and the circus; the world was just there to be a setting for the characters. Just not the kind of story setting I prefer, in the end, though there are some powerful bits — particularly between North and her bear.
I was intrigued by Quinn in the previous novella, and this one takes much the same stance: rather than following Quinn directly, the bulk of it is tolI was intrigued by Quinn in the previous novella, and this one takes much the same stance: rather than following Quinn directly, the bulk of it is told from the point of view of someone who happens to be protected by him during a journey. It reveals a little more of the world-building and the reason certain things are as they are, while still leaving a whole lot still to explore. I hope there’s going to be more, and soon.
I love the way it becomes apparent to the narrator-character, Jaxom, that Quinn is a good man — not a fun man to be around, not a safe man, not good company or just mildly principled. He’s a good man, prepared to take risks for others even if he doesn’t like them, because his word is his bond.
I still mostly didn’t get into Jaxom’s story for his sake — I was interested in Quinn, what happened to him, what he’s seeking, where he’s going next, and who opposes him. Ideally, I’d like to learn why, too.
Received to review via Netgalley; publication date 7th September 2017
The cover of this is gorgeous, no question, and the idea sounds pretty cool: postReceived to review via Netgalley; publication date 7th September 2017
The cover of this is gorgeous, no question, and the idea sounds pretty cool: post-apocalyptic robot Western, what’s not to love? Unfortunately, I didn’t finish this book, because it’s just too bogged down in tons and tons (and tons) of exposition via info dump. There are whole chapters where the main character, Brittle, does nothing but explain the history of her world. It’s first person narration, so to whom is she telling the story? Why wouldn’t they know?
(I credit, or curse, Lynn O’Connacht with my pickiness about first person narratives, these days. She’s the first one who really made me go, oh, right. Why is this person telling this story anyway, and to whom?)
That gripe and the exposition aside, I was also put off by the fact that at first, the robots were pretty much ungendered. Brittle didn’t seem to have a gender identity, and certainly there was nothing in the story to indicate one way or the other. (At least to a casual reader, and I’m not going back in to check.) Then all of a sudden, 20% of the way through, it turns out that robots do have gender identities, or at least there’s enough there that other robots still bother with gendered pronouns and distinctions between hes and hers.
That’s probably a very personal gripe, and it may not even have crossed the author’s mind — female robot, why not? But I just have to ask why, why would a robot cling to an outdated, human idea of gender in a post-human world?
Maybe that gets addressed later on, but I don’t have the patience to wait for it....more
I’ve never really seriously considered reading Ayn Rand’s books; I’ve never heard anything good about either her prose style and plotting or her politI’ve never really seriously considered reading Ayn Rand’s books; I’ve never heard anything good about either her prose style and plotting or her politics, so at that point, why bother? But it was available on the Serial Reader app when I was first trying it out, and it was only eight installments long, and I talked with someone else who was reading it, and… ended up giving it a go.
It’s basically a parable against collectivist politics, the total celebration of the ego. It’s not totally without compassion for one’s fellow being — even after discovering the word ‘I’, the narrator does want to go back and find other people like himself. But it is all about making yourself the most important person, and seeking what you want, and damn what society needs to be cohesive. Obviously, neither extreme much appeals to me, at least as portrayed here. Other books have had a more honest crack at collectivist societies, like Le Guin’s The Dispossessed; that both criticises and examines. I’d stick to that, or even to Zamyatin’s We, which is similar to this book in theme but better written.
I don’t regret reading it, but I wouldn’t read anything else by Rand — this gives a clear enough view of her politics.
Deadline is narrated by Shaun Mason, of whom I’m rather less fond than I am of Georgia. Not that we’re quite bereft of Reviewed for The Bibliophibian.
Deadline is narrated by Shaun Mason, of whom I’m rather less fond than I am of Georgia. Not that we’re quite bereft of Georgia in this book, because she’s very much present through Shaun. Literally, at times: he talks to her and imagines her replies, and sometimes even feels her hand on the back of his neck or sees her leading him to something, etc, etc. His trauma’s pretty intense, his temper’s pretty bad, and though you can sympathise with how torn up he is, he’s also somewhat unpleasant in the way he treats his staff.
It’s a joy to get to see more of Becks and Mags, though there’s not much else about this book that you could call a joy: the hits keep on coming, from terrible revelation to terrible revelation. There’s less about politics in this one and more about the science, particularly the CDC, and I found that interesting. (And monstrous. The real monsters here are not the zombies, but the other people who perpetuate their existence.)
I was a little sad that Rick doesn’t appear at all in this book: I hope he is going to appear more in the final book of the trilogy. All in all, I’m geared up and ready to go for Blackout. Deadline does suffer a bit from being the middle book, I think, but it does have some pretty tense scenes and awesome reveals, so I’m not going to drop the rating....more
Santa Olivia was a reread, but it’s been a while — six (what?!) years, apparently. I never read the sequel, Saints Astray, so between getting that andSanta Olivia was a reread, but it’s been a while — six (what?!) years, apparently. I never read the sequel, Saints Astray, so between getting that and having bought my sister the books for Christmas, it seemed high time to reread this and get stuck into Saints Astray. It was even more readable than I remembered — I’d have read it in a day if pesky life didn’t keep getting in the way. It takes a whole bunch of ideas — a faintly post-apocalyptic No-Man’s-Land in the Outpost, genetically modified soldiers, werewolves (sort of), boxing, coming of age, vigilantism, vengeance… — and makes a fresh, fun pageturner out of it.
And in case, like my sister, this is a draw for you, the central relationship is between two girls, and they eventually have a shot at a happy ever after.
The background is fairly nondescript, because the action is all confined to the Outpost and the inhabitants know little of what happens beyond the barricades. The important aspect is the characters and the interplay between them: the “orphans”, growing up together and trying out their strength, keeping each other’s secrets and having each others’ backs, and at the same time growing apart because they’re all so different. There’s people being good and people being assholes and people being caught somewhere in between and learning, a little, slowly, how to be better. There’s people being brave and people with no fear at all, and interesting discussions of how that affects each of them. All kinds of human emotions and motivations and tangles: that’s the draw of this story, even if the boxing and vengeance leaves you cold.
My one criticism is that it takes a surprisingly long time for Loup to really become the hero of the story, and she does so for entirely predictable reasons. You can feel those beats in the story coming way in advance. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m growing to wish it wasn’t always tragedy that motivates heroes.
I originally received this to review, but have actually bought a copy in the meantime because I took too long about getting to it — and some of my friI originally received this to review, but have actually bought a copy in the meantime because I took too long about getting to it — and some of my friends were very enthusiastic about it.
I’m actually finding this one a difficult one to review, anyway. The prose is great, and the interweaving of the plots, the character arcs, and the way the different time periods are handled… all of that worked very well for me. The set-up of the world, too: the plague, the way people survive, the existence of something like the Travelling Symphony (though it did remind me of Genevieve Valentine’s Mechanique). It just… doesn’t seem to be sticking with me. I finished it last night and I’m already forgetting details and connections.
Maybe part of it is that I didn’t really form an emotional connection to anyone. The way it shifts between central characters caused that, somewhat: I was never sure who was coming back, who was incidental. And sometimes the characters were just… drifting through their lives without purpose. The actor, for example, his hopping between wives and his callousness to his friends; he’s a well-written character, and yet not one I can be passionate about.
I think maybe what it really lacked for me was a sense of destination. “Survival” is all the characters aim for, and there’s no one unifying thing that they’re all drawn toward, so that their coming together feels unimportant. I don’t usually need some big epic event as a book’s climax, but it didn’t seem like this had a climax — it was more a character study, a world study, which normally I would enjoy, but because I didn’t really connect with any of the characters, it didn’t elevate the novel beyond “well, objectively I can see it’s well-written”.
I hesitate over giving it a rating, because I normally rate by enjoyment, but also by a sense of ‘okay, I’ll take a star off for x and y’. I don’t want to dock it stars, though, and yet it doesn’t merit the highest accolades I’ve given to books like The Goblin Emperor. I’m going to have to go with three stars (‘liked it’) — which is not to say it’s not a good book, maybe even a five star book in some ways, but it just can’t touch the involvement I’ve had with books I’ve given five stars.
Originally posted here (with interesting conversations in the comments!)....more
If I were more secure in my ability to be humorous and keep it up throughout the review, doubtless I’d review this book with the same serious tone it If I were more secure in my ability to be humorous and keep it up throughout the review, doubtless I’d review this book with the same serious tone it takes: this theory about zombies is intriguing, this one is confirmed by personal experience, this one is ridiculous, etc. Since I’m not particularly funny, I’ll refrain. It takes a deft touch to do it at any length, and I don’t think Max Brooks really succeeds here. It becomes just a boring catalogue of things — some of it is interesting, like various ideas on how to defend different types of buildings, different ways to arm yourself for best effect, etc. But because it’s modelled very closely on the survival guide genre, it remains mostly interesting to that crowd. I’d be interested to see a survivalist’s reaction to this book, actually.
Now, I’m not going to deny I have a zombie survival plan. It goes like this: “Find my dad as soon as possible. Ensure he is armed and we have food, water, and a stock of books. Let Dad protect me. Survive.” And yes, I’m that confident: my dad would survive a zombie uprising, and he’d put a bullet through my head before he’d allow me to turn into a mindless zombie. Draw whatever conclusions about my family you wish from that…
There’s some joke here about me getting into a mindless rage because I don’t have enough books vs. turning into a zombie and how you tell the difference, but I suck at humour, we’ve established this.
Anyway, the best part of this is the section of historical records of outbreaks, and that only where they’re more creative. By a certain point, they become repetitive, and the conspiracy theories are obvious without the point needing to be laboured. I’m sure there must be real records that you could use as evidence for past zombie uprisings, but I don’t know if Max Brooks incorporated any – that would require having the give-a-shit to look up each incident he mentions, and I don’t have it....more
The pleasure of reading The Sundial is in the quality of Jackson's prose, the cleverness of the way she does character and plot through dialogue or liThe pleasure of reading The Sundial is in the quality of Jackson's prose, the cleverness of the way she does character and plot through dialogue or limited narration, the way she can take almost any scene and infuse it with that little frission of dread and foreboding. I'm not as much a fan of it as I am of We Have Always Lived in the Castle, though there are commonalities; most of the characters are detestable, which is not something I get along with, and all but one or two are quite weak personalities, which means they don't act much versus a single powerful character -- which makes that character repellently appealing, but makes the rest of them seem pretty insipid.
Overall, it's never clear whether this is meant to be horror, literary, fantasy/spec fic, whatever. It can be what you want it to be. What it is really is a story about people and the way they act and react, and how difficult it would be to find people who are really worthy of inheriting a new world. You don't have to accept that the world is really ending, only that the characters believe so.
As you'd expect, there's also a fine sense of place; the Hallorans' home is a character in the story too. There's a lot of description of it, which is all revealing of character and the history of the family, but if you don't have the patience for it, that might seem quite slow....more
Galapagos is a fun read, playful; for a book about the end of the world, it's certainly more humorous and light-hearted than most, except perhaps GoodGalapagos is a fun read, playful; for a book about the end of the world, it's certainly more humorous and light-hearted than most, except perhaps Good Omens. The narration is fun -- the narrator is pretty much a character, but also pretty much omniscient, so you get to know everything that's going, but with opinions into the bargain.
When I think about it, though, I can't find much substance in this. It's very repetitive, and if there's one single point that comes out of it strongly, it's that humans have big brains and we cause our own problems, and maybe it would be better if we evolved to have smaller brains and less able to cause trouble. Which... sure, fine, but ~250 pages of story all focused around that begins to lose its charm.
Still, that's what saves it -- the charm, and the fact that the narrative reveals facts haphazardly, so you have to hang on to almost the last page to piece together exactly what happened throughout the book. It is charming, like I said, and very readable, but... Shrug?...more
Had this from NetGalley aaaages ago, and finally got round to reading it now. It's something very much in the vein of 1984, with some aspects clearly Had this from NetGalley aaaages ago, and finally got round to reading it now. It's something very much in the vein of 1984, with some aspects clearly riffing on that, and it gives me really major déjà vu about something I've read before (but which I suspect was published since). It's one of McDonald's earliest novels, published in the year I was born, and yet I don't think it's gone out of date as speculative fiction so often can.
In a way, I found it predictable: once you know the roles of certain characters and how they fit into society, you can see how it's going to end. That doesn't diminish the fun of the ride, though: this is a quicksilver, frenetic book, a strange new world. I love the concepts here, filched from mythology and jumbled back up to make something new: Lares and Penates, household gods, mixed in with stuff straight out of 1984.
While I didn't like this as much as I liked The Broken Land, and the writing style isn't always entirely for me (too disconnected, jumbled, like an abstract painting), I think it's worth a look, particularly if you enjoy dystopian stories. The last chapter or so is all a bit of a rush; a lot suddenly happens in a few words, and I could've enjoyed seeing it unfold more completely, but I like what's sketched in for us as the result of the climax of the story....more
I can't remember why I originally requested this. I think I was originally drawn by the idea of the twenty-five interlocking stories. There's plenty oI can't remember why I originally requested this. I think I was originally drawn by the idea of the twenty-five interlocking stories. There's plenty of dystopia out there, but this seemed like it could be a new way of looking at the idea -- new by way of a different structure, if not in terms of ideas. In the end, it didn't come together for me: the eARC I downloaded was badly formatted, which didn't help, but editing seemed weak and the writing wasn't anything special.
I'm normally pretty demanding of short stories, so perhaps it's not particularly surprising that ultimately I was unimpressed. It lacked polish, really, and that combined with the fact that there was nothing particularly unique in these stories meant I struggled to finish it, even skimming it. I still like the idea of the structure, but it didn't work here....more
Received as an ARC from Netgalley. Like all Angry Robot/Strange Chemistry books, this is a compulsive read: I started it this afternoon and just finisReceived as an ARC from Netgalley. Like all Angry Robot/Strange Chemistry books, this is a compulsive read: I started it this afternoon and just finished it now. I think I'd have been more enthusiastic about it when I was younger, and I'm almost positive my sister would really enjoy it. Even now I found it interesting, and got swept up in the action.
Part of the problem for me is the very teenage focus on attraction and love, which is not something I'm particularly interested in. On the flip side of that, all Riven's issues about family ring clear no matter what, I think. And that's not the only aspect of the plot, of course: there's also the technological aspects, the half-glimpsed history of the world, which I enjoyed piecing together.
Some plot twists were fairly obvious to me from the beginning, and I was a little disappointed that a certain character turned out to be twisted all along: I prefer some ambiguity and would've liked to see Riven's reaction, faced with him and with everything she's done all along.
I'm interested to see how Riven's character develops, after the revelations of this book and the changes that've come up -- both in her society and for her personally....more
My sister's a fan of Gary Gibson, but she wasn't sure what I'd think of it (despite our shared appreciation for Alastair Reynolds -- almost all her coMy sister's a fan of Gary Gibson, but she wasn't sure what I'd think of it (despite our shared appreciation for Alastair Reynolds -- almost all her copies of his books originally belonged to me, in fact!). Turns out, I quite liked it. My main interest is normally characters I can relate to, but sometimes that takes a back seat: not so much here, but the story was well-paced enough to keep me turning the pages.
Actually, I found the most intriguing part to be the first chapter or so. After that, it becomes less about weird alien technology and more spy-thriller-y, which is less my thing. Still, there's enough of a question mark about the technology and the causes of what's going on in this apocalyptic scenario to keep a decent sense of mystery going.
This sounds kind of lukewarm, especially coming off the high that was 2001: A Space Odyssey, but I did quite enjoy it and I will probably read the sequel, and more of Gary Gibson's work. Maybe not as a priority, but it's on my mental list....more
Wouldya look at that, I finally finished reading this? I'm not entirely sure why I stopped: it's not a hard read, and the short chapters pull you on tWouldya look at that, I finally finished reading this? I'm not entirely sure why I stopped: it's not a hard read, and the short chapters pull you on through the story pretty well. There's some gorgeous writing, and the whole structure of it -- the mix of POVs, tenses, etc -- makes it pretty absorbing as you try to figure out all the whys and wherefores. Some of the imagery is just... disgusting, visceral, beautiful, all at once.
The characters are not exactly likeable, but fascinating: Elena, who you slowly come to understand; Bird and Stenos, with their yearnings; Boss, with her strange abilities...
All in all, it's an interesting read, and it'll stick in my mind, but not a favourite, I think....more
Received this to review from Netgalley. I enjoy most Angry Robot books, but this one was a cut above. They normally have new and intriguing ideas, butReceived this to review from Netgalley. I enjoy most Angry Robot books, but this one was a cut above. They normally have new and intriguing ideas, but this was a whole world that felt organic, revealed slowly, with no unnecessary detail. The whole idea of the Weir was perfect -- enough information that they were frightening, but not so much that the mystery went out of it and left them ridiculous. They're sort of zombies. High tech zombies. They're not invulnerable, and their danger isn't hyped up unbearably -- danger comes from all around: the Weir, basic survival, and the gang on Three's heels.
I didn't expect some of the twists this book took; some were obvious after another previous turning point had been passed, and yet at the same time it wasn't obvious that that would have to be the outcome. And I loved the way the characters developed: the way relationships slowly grew between them, and the way that very little could be seen as black and white.
Ultimately, I don't know how to talk about this book without spoiling the experience. It's a little bit of a Western, a little bit sci-fi, a little bit horror survival story. It's absorbing and well-written, and surprised me on many fronts, and I'll rec it to everyone once it's published. If you have a Netgalley account, this is one not to be missed; if you're an Angry Robot fan, part of the Robot Army, likewise; if you're not, may I suggest that this is a most excellent place to start?...more
I know I was reviewing each section separately, but I decided I wasn't going to finish this. All in all, it wasn't keeping my attention as much as I wI know I was reviewing each section separately, but I decided I wasn't going to finish this. All in all, it wasn't keeping my attention as much as I would've liked -- Juliette is a great character, but otherwise, meh, and the plot wasn't so original or well put together that I couldn't spend my time poking holes in it, even to the extent I read it. Combine that with learning what the end is from a helpful reading group member and I was severely sceptical... It isn't bad, and with an editor the workmanlike prose could even have turned out to be a good thing for it, but...
Then I was linked to a post from the author's site, in which he is a misogynistic, ablist jerk. And this is where I regret contributing financially to his success. I could forgive the insensitive, arrogant post where he proves himself as bad as the person he's denigrating, if he was willing to accept the criticism in the comments, but no.
My star rating is for what I've read so far, and not influenced by Howey's personal opinions. The fact that I broke off and didn't finish it, on the other hand...
Edit: As I posted that, I was directed to an apology. To me, it still misses the point and is just an "oh shit, I annoyed potential readers" reaction....more
I don't know what to think of this book. It's my first Martha Wells book, and I'm promised some of her others are even better: this one is beautiful iI don't know what to think of this book. It's my first Martha Wells book, and I'm promised some of her others are even better: this one is beautiful in its attention to detail, its careful worldbuilding. I enjoyed a lot that this is fantasy and post-apocalyptic work at the same time: we're talking magic here, not science, not even science that looks like magic. This is what I've hungered for -- a one-shot fantasy story that isn't focused on romance or anything other than solid characters and a solid plot.
There's a lot of really fascinating aspects to this world. There's some interesting gender stuff going on with the main character, Khat. He's part of an engineered race who are like humans but have various modifications to better suit the conditions of their post-apocalyptic world. One example being their ability to tell where north is by instinct. Another being the fact that both men and women can bear young in pouches. Then there's the fact that the kris -- Khat's people -- are sought after by some high class women because they can't interbreed with humans: it's not high class men taking advantage of poor women, but the other way round (in effect). And the high class women all have very short hair, while high class men wear veils. One of the main characters, Elen, has a powerful role to begin with and becomes more powerful in her society as the story goes on; the ruler's heir is a woman.
At the same time, there's some possessiveness around women and an expectation that they'll stay home and have children, so it's not quite turned completely around.
Khat is a great character: tough, smart, but not infallible and not all-knowing. I can believe in the people around him, the bonds he has to others -- I love the awkwardness with Elen at the end, and the comfortableness he always has with Sagai because Sagai understands Khat isn't going to confide everything in him. I liked that the "bad" characters aren't completely one-sided (except the Inhabitants and perhaps the Heir), and though I saw it coming, I liked what became of "mad" Constans.
I love the details of the world, the fact that water is a commodity -- which isn't a hugely original idea, but which fits so well here and isn't used as some kind of dystopic problem, but just as a background to the story, a part of the system of commerce and trade.
I really enjoyed the fact that this is sort of a fantastical Indiana Jones with aristocratic scheming moving the pieces, too. The details of the relics, the academic discussions around them... That's my world, really, at least on the literature side of things, and it's lovely to have a hero for whom that is a big draw.
There's a lot of genuine sense of wonder and beauty, here, and the author steers away from a too-convenient ending. People die, friendships are stillborn, and the world ticks on as before with the person who made that possible barely rewarded. Very enjoyable, and I'm looking forward to reading more of Wells' stuff....more
Hmm. Still processing this one. Again, there was a bit of a sting in the tale, but I saw it coming through some clumsy foreshadowing. Interesting addiHmm. Still processing this one. Again, there was a bit of a sting in the tale, but I saw it coming through some clumsy foreshadowing. Interesting addition to the world we already know a little about, and building things up nicely as far as explaining the inside of the silo goes.
But after the first book, I'm interested in outside, I want to know why and how and maybe when. While I liked the cautious, tender, careful relationship built up here, I wanted some more answers, not more questions.
