Here be Dragons

   Two of the books I read this week concerned one of my main loves in fantasy literature - dragons. They were 'Blood of Tyrants' by Naomi Novik and 'Joust' by Mercedes Lackey. 

  'Blood of Tyrants' is the eighth book in the Temeraire series, briefly mentioned previously by me here. It was released yesterday by Del Rey in the US, but the UK publication date has not been decided yet, as far as I can tell. The series has been optioned by Peter Jackson, so we'll have to just keep our fingers crossed that something ends up being done with this terrific source material.

    In this penultimate adventure, Laurence and Temeraire find themselves in Japan, China, and then Russia as they head towards a final showdown with Napoleon. The novel opens in Japan, as we discover that poor Laurence has been subjected to the somewhat tired plot device of an accident causing amnesia. He has forgotten everything which has occurred in the years since he captured Temeraire's egg. Luckily, in this case the device does serve the interesting purpose of illustrating very clearly the major changes of opinion which Laurence has experienced, primarily towards dragons and aviators. When he is first reunited with Temeraire early on in the novel, his behaviour towards that noble beast shows a stark contrast to that of the previous years of adventure. It's a neat way of showing rather than telling the reader to what an extent the character has developed.

   Temeraire is his usual self - brave, sometimes capricious, always loyal. We are introduced to yet more fascinating species of dragons - in this case Japanese species - and intriguing concepts of how they fit into Japanese society. The action escalates nicely towards what will be the final volume in this series, as Laurence, Temeraire, and their Chinese and Russian allies prepare for a climactic final battle with Napoleon. However, I felt that the major strength of this book is in the thought it provokes on some more serious issues. By introducing dragons in various societies (those owned by rebels in Western China and the Russian dragons, in particular) which are treated poorly, or like animals, the reader is forced to consider issues of self-determination and of natural rights and justice. Throughout this series, readers will have come to know dragons, through Temeraire, to have the same potential for compassion, bravery, and cruelty,  to respond as well to education and justice, as their human counterparts. How then can the we approve of the treatment of these creatures, for example in Russia, where massive metal pins may be driven deep into the animals' muscles to enable them to be chained up? How can we approve of human 'masters', for example the British, forcing the animals to fly into battle and fight fiercely, without respect for the animals wellbeing beyond physical fitness and without any pay? Of course, while these are valid questions in the world of the novel, they are worthless in the real world except in so far as they prompt the reader to think about the thinly-veiled analogy of slavery. If we object so viscerally to the treatment of these animals in the novel, how much more strongly must we react to these events in the real world. Slavery is a worse problem in the world at the moment than it ever has been in the past - today an estimated 12-27 million people remain slaves worldwide.  
   To briefly return to my purpose - a few words about 'Joust' by Mercedes Lackey. I picked this

up secondhand in Raven Books in Blackrock, Dublin - a haven for bibliophiles, if you're ever in the area! It was published in 2003, and unfortunately my search for more standalone fantasy novels is not yet over, as it is the first of four. It combines alternative history of Ancient Egypt with animal husbandry - in this case of dragons. 
   Vetch is an indentured serf, bound to serve a master who took his family's farm and was responsible for the death of his father. This master is particularly cruel to Vetch, doing just barely enough to keep the boy alive. One day, a passing Jouster (dragon rider) observes this cruelty, and as a way of taking Vetch away from his master, claims the serf (as property of the Great King) in order to make Vetch his dragon boy, caring for the dragon and its equipment. Of course, as a farmer's son, Vetch shows a great aptitude for this work. He becomes intrigued with the accomplishment of his new master Ari, who is the only Jouster whose dragon is genuinely tame, and not simply drugged into docility. 
   In the detailed descriptions of dragon behaviour, training methods, and husbandry, 'Joust' reminds me somewhat of another fantasy I've read recently - 'Zenn Scarlett' by Christian Schoon, discussed here. I'd recommend both of these novels to any young person interested in animals. Also, interestingly, while the slavery aspect of 'Joust' is actually much more explicit and discussed more frequently than in 'Blood of Tyrants', I didn't feel that it was as thought-provoking. Altogether a very fun read. 
   Exciting news - I've just received my advance reading copy of Scott Lynch's long-awaited follow-up to 'The Lies of Locke Lamora' and 'Red Seas Under Red Skies' - 'The Republic of Thieves'. I can't wait to read, and I'll let you know (spoiler-free) closer to the release date! 

The Cuckoo's Calling

   On Monday and Tuesday this week, just in time for it's famous author's birthday today, I read 'The Cuckoo's Calling'. There can be few members of the news-consuming public who haven't heard the recent story that this crime novel, published in April under the name of Robert Galbraith, was actually written by the world's richest and possibly most famous author, J. K. Rowling. After a nasty period during which sceptics proclaimed that the leak of this information was undoubtedly a marketing ploy undertaken by either Rowling herself or her publishers, it was announced that the information actually reached the public domain through the indiscretion of a lawyer, who let the secret slip to a personal friend. 

   In my opinion, it's unfortunate that the truth of the novel's authorship has been revealed at such an early stage - it would have been very interesting to see whether it could have become a success based on its own merits, and whether its popularity would have taken another book or two to really gather momentum. The subject also provokes some thought about a publishing environment in which a debut by an unknown author which garners universally high reviews from a few critics and other crime authors still only sells a few hundred copies. What hope is there for authors of similarly accomplished novels who don't happen to have a famous name to fall back on? Anyway, I like to think that word-of-mouth would have built over the course of the next couple of years for this, as was the case with Harry Potter, and that it could have been a success even without the recent revelations. Because this is a novel that always deserved success.

     I had unwittingly been preparing very well for reading 'The Cuckoo's Calling' by almost

Sphere, £12.99

exclusively reading Agatha Christie for the last few weeks. Declan Burke says in his Irish Times review that 'Rowling is reported to be a fan of the Golden Age of British crime fiction as written by Agatha Christie, Josephine Tey, and Dorothy L Sayers' and I agree that this is very much a classic puzzle-solving detective mystery in the vein of those. I was certainly pleased that any violence depicted bears a closer relationship to those classics than to more modern, and more gruesome, novels. 

   Briefly (since I know it would have been next to impossible not to have read a review of this already somewhere), Cormoran Strike is a private detective who is down to his last chance. He's just left his girlfriend so he's living in his office, he's deeply in debt, his business is failing due to lack of custom, and his prosthetic lower leg is making life difficult. One Monday morning, Robin Ellacott turns up, sent as a temp secretary by the agency to work for him for a week. She is thrilled by the sign on the door - 'Private Detective' - sensing possibilities for more exciting work than endless photocopying and filing. Not long after she arrives, something very unusual happens - a new client presents himself, asking Strike to investigate the sudden death of his sister, supermodel Lula Landry, three months previously. Robin plays the efficient secretary and offers refreshment to both Strike and his client, and it is only as she leaves the room having taken an order from each man that Strike remembers 'that he did not have any coffee, sugar or, indeed, cups.' Strike initially agrees to investigate the case due to presence of ready money, and at double his usual rate, but he quickly finds his innate sense of justice and his conscience leading him onwards.

   While I'm a huge Harry Potter fan, I admit that I did not particularly enjoy Rowling's literary fiction offering last year 'The Casual Vacancy', so it wasn't an absolutely foregone conclusion that I would like this one. However, Rowling's newest creations are enormously interesting and appealing - I felt myself invested in the characters by the time I was 20 pages into the novel. While the narrative is as satisfyingly complex as a Poirot mystery and as thrilling, it never feels as if characterisation, character development, beautiful language and description have been sacrificed to serve a fast-moving plot. Indeed, I felt that 'The Cuckoo's Calling' had the largest cast of fully fleshed-out characters that I've read in a while. Strike and his sidekick Robin make an unlikely but thoroughly fascinating and entertaining pair, so I'm delighted to read that Rowling has reportedly already finished the sequel, which will be published next year. 

   Go forth and read, folks!

A Slow Month for Reading

So I have rediscovered during this last few weeks the delight of rereading as a fantastically comforting occupation in rough times. During June I've reread some Wheel of Time, a couple of Agatha Christie mysteries, my favourite Fred Vargas, and my ultimate happy-time in book form - Harry Potter. It's been an enjoyable, but not very productive, reading time. Of course, while familiar settings, characters, and ideas are very comforting, there should also be time for the more positive and forward-thinking activity of discovering new favourites. The two books I've read for the first time in the last month have been 'Toby Alone' by Timothée de Fombelle and 'Proxy' by Alex London.

   'Proxy' was released a few weeks ago on June 18th by Penguin US. Here's the blurb:

Knox was born into one of the City's wealthiest families. A Patron, he has everything a boy could possibly want—the latest tech, the coolest clothes, and a Proxy to take all his punishments. When Knox breaks a vase, Syd is beaten. When Knox plays a practical joke, Syd is forced to haul rocks. And when Knox crashes a car, killing one of his friends, Syd is branded and sentenced to death.

Syd is a Proxy.  His life is not his own.

Then again, neither is Knox’s. Knox and Syd have more in common than either would guess. So when Knox and Syd realize that the only way to beat the system is to save each other, they flee. Yet Knox’s father is no ordinary Patron, and Syd is no ordinary Proxy. The ensuing cross-country chase will uncover a secret society of rebels, test both boys’ resolve, and shine a blinding light onto a world of those who owe and those who pay. Some debts, it turns out, cannot be repaid.

   I really enjoyed this one. It was a lightning-quick read - I finished in a matter of hours. Syd is an extremely sympathetic main character - generous, compassionate, and practical. The relationship between him and Knox, from whose point of view the story is also told, starts off on a very rocky basis as Syd is Knox's 'whipping boy' - taking severe punishments every time (and there are many) that Knox breaks the rules. While some of the science didn't fully make sense (I thought), I'd thoroughly recommend this to fans of 'The Hunger Games' - it's also a whirlwind adventure which does provoke some deeper thought about class structures, democracy, and justice. Great summer reading for adults too!
    'Toby Alone' was first released as 'La Vie Suspendue' in France in 2006, and was

subsequently translated by Sarah Ardizzone and released for the UK market in 2008. As well as being on my 'Books About Tiny People' list, I decided it was a good time to read this one at the moment because of the opportunity to compare it to an animated movie with some similarities - 'Epic', released in May. Both feature tiny people living in the forest, and both promote a environmental message. Both put this message forward in quite a simplistic way - the two dimensional 'baddies' try to destroy the tree or forest, and the equally two dimensional heroes try to stop them. I never felt that the sizes described in 'Toby Alone' would be at all feasible - is 1.5 millimetres small enough that most of the characters in the book believe that their Tree is the whole extent of the world, making talk of other Trees tantamount to heresy? I'm glad I read this, and it was an enjoyable and at times very fun read, but I probably won't bother reading the sequel. I'll just have to find more of my 'Books About Tiny People' to obsess over - possibly Terry Pratchett's Bromeliad trilogy - 'Truckers', 'Diggers', and 'Wings'.

Holiday Reads

A lucky quirk of fate has resulted in my having five days off in a row this week - hurray for unexpected holidays! I've read two books - Emma Newman's 'Any Other Name' and Catherynne Valente's 'The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There'. 

Angry Robot, £8.99

   'Any Other Name' is the follow-up to this Spring's release in the Split Worlds series - 'Between Two Thorns' (you can find my review here). It's due for release on June 6th. 'Any Other Name' picks up directly where the first novel leaves off, as Cathy prepares for the very advantageous match which has been made for her by her family and their Patron. It doesn't matter in Fae high society that this marriage is the last thing that Cathy wants - her parents and family elders have total control of her fate. 'Any Other Name' continues some of the plotlines introduced in the first novel, as well as presenting new locations, characters, and phenomena - Max the arbiter continues his investigation into the strange events concerning his colleagues, Sam the mundane (person untouched by Fae magic) tries to help some of the 'innocents' captured by Fae in the first book, and we discover London society and its brightest stars, and the mysterious members of the Elemental Court.
   The strange conventions of Fae society continue to bear more resemblance to the Edwardian era than to the modern day, which makes it particularly hard for Cathy - who has lived for a time in the modern world - to accept once again her place in her family and next to her husband. She is expected to attend to interior decorating, hiring of servants, embroidery, and the perpetuation of her husband's family name. It makes interesting reading from this perspective alone, as we see how Cathy struggles to figure out how exactly she is going to bring about wholesale change in this backward social group.
   This seems like a classic 'middle book' in a series, with the accompanying issues. How to develop characters and plotlines, achieve perhaps minor but no major resolution, while maintaining the interest of readers. This novel does manage the feat quite well, but I didn't feel that it also forms a novel which could satisfyingly be read as a standalone, which is disappointing. I have to say that, while so many of them are amazing (and this one is very good), I'm very bored at the moment with the obsession of publishers for making any science-fiction or fantasy novel into a series. I'm dying to read a couple of good new standalone novels! (Suggestions in a comment, if you have any!) Having said all of that, this series is well worth the read, and Cathy is a fantastically sympathetic creation - I rooted for her as I haven't for a character in a while.
   As you may know if you've come across my blog before, Catherynne Valente is one of my

Constable and Robinson, £9.99

absolute favourite authors (my review of 'Deathless' is here). 'The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There' is the sequel to the much-lauded 'The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of her own Making', which was released last year (my review is here).
   I really want to avoid any spoilers of either book here, as I love them both so much and really want everyone to read them. Suffice it to say that September is a little older and wiser in this instalment - she returns to the magical world of Fairyland and discovers that all is not well there. In the course of her adventures she meets a host of new characters - the Duke of Teatime and his wife the Vicereine of Coffee, Aubergine the Night-Dodo who is a student of Quiet Physics, gets a Watchful dress, and takes a ride on an Electric Eel. The illustrations are once again by Ana Juan, and are simply beautiful. These are marvelous adventures, written with a clarity and fluidity which is just miraculous.

Illustration from The Girl Who Fell Beneath.., Ana Juan

  

The Shining Girls

   Harper Curtis, a violent and mentally disturbed drifter, stumbles into a rundown property in Chicago. The year is 1931. Inside he comes across a case full of money - US dollars in a wide variety of designs and denominations. He finds himself a change of clothes, pockets a handful of the strange notes, opens the front door, and 'steps into sometime else'.

Harper Collins

   Lauren Beukes new novel 'The Shining Girls' is already being touted as the big it-read for this summer. It's a move into new literary territory for Beukes, whose two previous novels - Moxyland and Zoo City - were both resolutely on the urban fantasy shelf. 'The Shining Girls' is a gripping and terrifying crime thriller, featuring one of the creepiest antagonists I've ever read - the above-mentioned Harper Curtis. 

   Harper uses the miraculous, and never-explained, time-travelling powers of 'the House' to help him follow and eventually kill his 'shining girls': girls in whom he sees particular potential, creativity, or genius. He gives each girl a trinket when they are young, and leaves another beside the body when he returns to finish his job many years later. The difficulty for any law enforcement agency investigating any of his crimes between 1929 and 1993 is how to trace a timeline of events when, chronologically speaking, there simply isn't one. Hypothetically (this doesn't feature in the novel), how could a team of profilers trace the evolution of a murderer's modus operandi when he has committed his first murder in 1981 and escalated towards a final and most elaborate murder in 1974. Throughout the novel, I puzzled over how this killer could ever possibly be caught. 
   Harper Curtis' adversary comes in the form of one of his victims. Kirby Mazrachi was the victim of a horrific assault in her late teens, which she only narrowly survived. Fast forward a few years and she talks her way into an internship at the Chicago Sun-Times, assisting Dan Velasquez - the journalist who originally covered her story, now working in the Sports department. They make an offbeat and attractive investigative team as Kirby starts trying to track assaults similar to hers in the greater Chicago area. 
   The novel does have its faults - we never learn anything about Harper's background or motivations, and leaving the reader with nothing to pin it on does a disservice to the full characterisation of Kirby. I really enjoyed reading it, but it's certainly not the best novel I've read this month, let alone this year. But it is a story well worth reading - especially for the many well-researched titbits. In 1931 Chicago, Harper ends up in a hospital bed in the same room as a woman who is slowly dying because of her occupation - she is a dancer, and her show is special because she performs covered in irradiated paint. Harper visits the construction site of the Sears tower in 1972, then returns a day later to 1973 to take the elevator to the top. 
   I look forward to the word of mouth increasing for this one. So far, I've heard about it mostly from the Sci-Fi/Fantasy community and Beukes' previous readership, but it would be a real shame if the words 'time travel' on the cover put the general crime fiction fans off reading 'The Shining Girls'. 



 

Reviver

   Back in March I arrived into work in the bookshop one day to discover that a rep had dropped in a great batch of Advance Reading Copies for the staff. I grabbed this one, which as you can

Pan Macmillan, £12.99

see has a really eye-catching cover. 'Reviver' will be released on June 20th by Pan Macmillan, and it's the debut novel from Seth Patrick, who is originally from Northern Ireland. 

   Jonah Miller is a reviver. He has the ability to wake the recently-dead and communicate with them. The discovery of this skill is relatively new, and already it's become an essential part of modern life. People take out revival insurance so that they can have one last chance to pass a message on to their loved ones after they die. The most exciting aspect of the phenomenon, however, is the potential for the identification of a murderer by his/her victim. Forensic revival has become a routine part of police investigation, and it's what Jonah does for a living. 
   Jonah is a particularly skilled reviver, and lately he's had some strange experiences during what should have been routine revivals. He's hearing strange whispers, and feeling terror in his revival subjects. When the pioneering journalist who first brought revival to public attention is murdered, Jonah finds himself getting dragged into the search for answers. 
   'Reviver' is a gripping thriller, but what really makes it fun is the addition of elements of horror and crime fiction into the mix. I found myself puzzling over which aspect would come to the fore in the eventual solution to the mystery. Patrick has prioritised plot over style or characterisation in this first outing, but it's exciting enough to absolutely pull this off. It's a great night-off kind of read, not too taxing on the grey cells, but lots of fun.

Bloomsbury Kids, £7.99

   The other book I read this week was 'The Last Elf' by Silvana De Mari, translated from the original Italian by Shaun Whiteside. I'd bought this one second-hand a while ago. The cover design is just gorgeous - thank the gods for people who don't hoard books but sell them on after reading for penniless folks to discover! 
   Yorshkrunsquarkljolnerstrink (or Yorsh for short) is a young elf who finds himself all alone in the world. He's starving, wet through, and very cold. This world is a harsh one for an elf. Humans generally hate elves, blaming them for the horrible state of things, and Yorsh is too young to know how to use his power to get along. He struggles to get along with people he meets because he can't remember whether the polite form of address is 'Excellency' or 'Fool'. 
   Yorsh is a very endearing character - so innocent and yet wise, vulnerable and yet powerful beyond knowing. His human companions provide the comic relief in their desperation at his quirky ways, and their journey takes them to lots of dangerous, beautiful, and strange places.    
   This is a beautiful classic fairytale, improved with a little tragedy and a lot of humour - perfect for fans of 'The Princess Bride' or 'Shrek'. And yes, I do realise how high that praise is - 'The Last Elf' is absolutely worth it. 

Zenn Scarlett and Schools in Fantasy Novels

   Both of the books I'm reading this week have as a major theme one which I've been planning to write about for a while now - that of learning. I really love it when a science fiction or fantasy novel that I am reading features some of the main characters being students to some extent. I think you'd be surprised at the number of amazing titles which fit into this category! I'll briefly mention some of those titles at the end of this post. In the meantime, this week's books were 'Zenn Scarlett' by Christian Schoon and 'Etiquette & Espionage' by Gail Carriger, both Young Adult titles.

Strange Chemistry, £7.99

   'Zenn Scarlett' is released today (May 2nd), the debut novel from Minnesota author Christian Schoon, and Strange Chemistry have picked up the UK rights to a two-book series. It's aimed at roughly a 12-plus age-group.
   This first novel introduces us to Zenn, a 17 year-old studying to be an exoveterinarian in a Ciscan cloister on Mars. She's learning how to treat all sorts of exotic alien species, from the rikkaset - a small marsupial which can alter the colour of its fur to camouflage itself - to the Kiran sunkiller - a huge flying creature so called because its presence blocks out the light of the sun. But all is not well on Mars. The initial colonisation by humans created an artificial environment in some valleys, and alien Sandhogs have made the land fertile, but civilisation on Mars is now at risk after the Rift with Earth. Replacement parts for machinery and essential products are no longer available, and it remains to be seen how long the colonists can last on their own. In addition, the lease on the cloister where Zenn is training is in danger, and she wants to help her uncle to save the school. 
   There were lots of elements to this story that I really enjoyed. Schoon's creativity with his menagerie of alien species is astounding - I particularly loved the description of the Bloodcarn, a gigantic arthropod which has 'a huge, fluorescent-orange centipede back section with what looked like a tarantula growing out of its front end.' These 'alpha predators' reminded me somewhat of the Slake-Moths from China Miéville's 'Perdido Street Station' in the primal terror they cause. I also loved the detail involved in the description of the various veterinary procedures Zenn is learning to perform. In one particularly memorable sequence, she uses a high-tech bone and tissue generator to heal a friend's pet cat which has been hit by a car. The amazing thing about this procedure is that the software which should direct the machine in what to create is broken, so Zenn must perform this task herself - a dizzying accomplishment in anatomy, visualising perfect capillaries, splicing arteries, calibrating synapses, and recreating organs and bone. Zenn as a main character was far from perfect (and quite annoying at times), but there was enough going on with the plot that this was a forgivable fault. The main theme of tolerance, as Zenn and her colleagues struggle to get the human colonists on Mars to accept their alien friends and charges, is an important one, especially for the young age group this novel is aimed at. I thought that the device of dropping the reader right into the deep end of life among aliens on Mars was perfect for this exciting and enlightening story. 
   'Etiquette & Espionage' by Gail Carriger was released earlier this year by Atom Books. Once

Atom, £6.99

again, it's aimed at an approximately 12-plus age-group. It's the first novel in a proposed four-book series - The Finishing School. It's set in the same world as her popular Parasol Protectorate series, which I have heard good things about but have unfortunately not read. 
   'Etiquette & Espionage' tells the story of fourteen year-old Sophronia, sent away by her despairing mother to finishing school. Unfortunately, her mother is unaware that Sophronia has been recommended to this school due to her adventurous and inquisitive nature, and as well as the curtseying, handkerchief-waving, and dancing her mother desires her to learn, she is also taught hand-to-hand combat, the art of dispensing poisons, bribery, and blackmail. Just for good luck, the school also boasts both a werewolf and a vampire teacher. It's a tremendously fun adventure, and an inventive introduction to a bit of steampunk for young people. 
   I've been noticing that a common thread in a lot of my favourite science fiction and fantasy is the concept of a main character attending a place of learning. 'Ender's Game' features a battle training school, where Ender learns the art of war through a succession of difficult games played in a zero-gravity Battle Room. In 'The Name of the Wind', Kvothe wins a scholarship to attend University of Imre, studying Naming among other things. Brandon Sanderson's sensational new Stormlight Archive series begins with 'The Way of Kings' in which one of the storylines features Shallan Davar becoming the apprentice and student of the scholar Jasnah Kholin. Robert Jordan's epic Wheel of Time series features the White Tower in the city of Tar Valon, where girls may train to become Aes Sedai if they possess the talent. Of course, one of the most famous modern fantasy series - Harry Potter - is all about a school of magic. The classic Earthsea trilogy features the school of wizardry on Roke Island, where Ged, a poor farmboy from the island of Gont, eventually rises to the position of Archmage. In Trudi Canavan's Black Magician trilogy, a slum-born girl named Sonea discovers her talent for magic, and attends the Magician's Guild to learn to control that talent. 
   These have barely scratched the surface of science fiction and fantasy titles featuring schools, universities, or broader interpretations of learning the craft of magic. Please comment below with any of your own favourites. I'll have to keep adding to my list!