Side novella for the Guild Codex series. Frankly not very good; the supposed master strategist character makes a chain of questionable decisions, and although for this genre I don’t mind love stories that come out of nowhere, I really did hate how poorly the guy used his magical electricity powers. I could have done so much better! Even so, Hobbs did a great job with the audio reading, and Marie’s snarky, snappy dialogue was still a fun time.
Tag: genre-fantasy
The Strange Case of the Alchemist’s Daughter, by Theodora Goss
Riffs on the fact that a lot of classic monster stories involve the creation, and subsequent destruction / abandonment, of a monstrous woman. After the death of her parents, Mary Jekyll digs into her late father’s affairs and discovers not just a previously unknown sister named Diana Hyde, but other women who were brought into being by famous fictional mad scientists. The women band together to make their way in the world, helping Sherlock Holmes and Watson solve a string of murders along the way. The writing was perfectly decent, but the plot felt really more like a way to string together all these related stories, and there were so many characters that none of them felt particularly fully-realized.
A Natural History of Dragons: A Memoir of Lady Trent, by Marie Brennan
This memoir begins with Lady Trent acknowledging her own status as a famous dragon naturalist, but reminding the reader that she was once a girl, the daughter of a wealthy landowner, and as such was expected to forgo unseemly activities like reading science texts and studying natural history, and especially was dissuaded from studying dragons. Because it’s a memoir, you know that Isabella eventually achieves her dream of a life of adventure and scientific study, but in this volume you get to relive her early history of rebellion, her attempts at courtship, and her journeys of discovery. I loved Isabella’s narrative voice and the occasional interjections from the future Lady Trent, putting the tale in perspective.
Babel, by R.F. Kuang
This book is subtitled “or the Necessity of Violence: an Arcane History of the Oxford Translators’ Revolution,” which clues the reader into the fact that there will be linguistics nerdity, class struggle, and obviously magic. When words are translated between languages, nuance is sometimes lost; in Kuang’s alternate history, this elided nuance becomes actual magic. What follows explores the British Empire’s domination and exploitation of other nations through the lens of language: how those in power try to make it just another tool of oppression, and how native speakers of those languages are forced into choosing between buying into the system and benefiting from the oppression, or rebelling against it, and losing everything. Robin, the narrator, is taken from China to England at a young age, so that the British magicians can train him to use his language to serve the empire. His gradual awakening to how he is being used, and how he can use what was given him to fight back, makes for a gripping and urgent read. This book made me want to flip madly through to follow the action, and at the same time want to linger over each page, savoring the insights and turns of phrase. A fantastic and beautiful read.
Seasonal Fears, by Seanan McGuire
Sequel to Middlegame, in that some of the same characters reoccur. This one deals with the embodiment of the seasons, in this case a pair of high school sweethearts too trope-y to be believed: a golden boy football star and his girlfriend the cheerleader. This is Seanan McGuire, though, so the characters are there both as symbols and as people: the football star is an embodiment of Summer, and his girlfriend becomes Winter; they find themselves catapulted into an all-or-nothing struggle to wear the seasonal crowns. McGuire does her best to keep the characters interesting, and her writing is gorgeous as usual… but really this is just a story about people who thought their lives were going to be normal, and who find out that they are actually myths: after a while, it’s hard to see them as entirely human, and therefore hard to care deeply about their journeys.
The Harbors of the Sun, by Martha Wells
#5 in the Books of the Raksura. I really think the books in the series suffer when they leave the personal and go global. Even though the conflict has reached the point where entire species are being threatened, the urgency isn’t there; the writing is still more interesting when addressing with the relationships between the characters (especially how the Raksura deal with the individual Fell, whose gradual gaining of consciousness makes their conflict seem even more tragic). It’s still adventurous, wildly inventive, and fun reading, because Martha Wells is good at what she does… but the first three books were definitely better than the final two.
The Return of the Thief, by Megan Whalen Turner
The conclusion of the Queen’s Thief series was perfect. Once again, the story begins with a narrator seemingly unrelated to any goings-on; once again, the narration and the plot twist around until you can’t possibly conceive of the story taking place any other way. The relationship between the kings and queens of the three countries at the heart of the series is amazingly crafted; they say so few words to one another, but every interaction and glance exchanged shows how close they have become. Such an emotionally satisfying end to the series, and the short story afterwards is a beautiful little finish.
The Gilded Ones, by Namina Forna
I loved the cover art, and the book had glowing reviews, but unfortunately the cover was the best thing about the book… The society is a patriarchal nightmare where men are obsessed with keeping their girls pure, lest they mysteriously start bleeding the golden blood that marks them as demonic. Our heroine, already looked down on for her dark skin, of course bleeds gold and is promptly punished for it … But wait, she is then whisked away to an all-female martial academy and taught by other women warriors to fight monsters… It’s all supremely unlikely and internally inconsistent, the plot really feels like it’s being made up as the author goes along, the villains are cartoonishly evil, and the grimdark violence (near-constant references to rape, beatings, and murder) is jarringly inconsistent with the extremely YA internal voice of the naive teen narrator.
The Oleander Sword, by Tasha Suri
Sequel to The Jasmine Throne, and very much a second book of a trilogy; do not expect resolution before the third book lands. Tasha Suri fearlessly throws her heroines to the wolves; after Priya and Malini manage to get themselves in actual positions of power at the end of book #1, they now must choose between their responsibilities to their respective peoples and their love for one another. I thought this book was quite a bit longer than it needed to be — the characters spend a lot of time spinning their wheels and fighting the same fights — but it’s smoothly written and the worldbuilding is simply amazing.
The Jade Setter of Janloon, by Fonda Lee, narrated by Andrew Kishino
Prequel novella to the Green Bone series, about a jade setter’s apprentice who chafes at his master’s conservative neutrality. Naturally there is way more going on beneath the surface of this story, which touches on how law enforcement must operate in an environment run by what are essentially superpowered mobs, as well as how bit players find ways to survive. Great reading by Kishino, who did an amazing job portraying both Green Bone thugs and quietly powerful Clan Pillars.