The Dark Griffin by KJ Taylor

The theme of racism has been around a long time in fantasy. It was there when Lord of the Rings set the stage for the genre and has been explored again and again by its successors in various guises.

Few, however, tackle it with such depressing accuracy as KJ Taylor's The Dark Griffin.

The main character Arren is what's called a blackrobe; a derogatory term for a race of enslaved humans. He's unusually lucky because he's also the chosen companion of a Griffin, which makes him aristocracy despite his origins. For someone like him, he's at the best place he could possibly be. So naturally, after a terrible accident, there is nowhere to go but down.

I'll be honest - this was a tough read for me. It holds no punches, exploring  how poisonous internalized racism is and how bigotry becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Several times I had to put the book down and go look at a sunset or watch cat videos.

I think what made it worse is that there's no traditional villain. Everyone is simply doing what they believe is best. It's like a Greek tragedy, except that the fatal flaw doesn't lie within the protagonists but the culture around them. Nor are these problems treated as a purely human failing, which would have been an easy out for the author to take. The Griffins are entirely complicit in this system.

It's a different twist on Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar series, where rulership is restricted to partnerships with mystical bond animals. But unlike the Heralds' Companions, the Griffins do not come with an omniscient morality licence and choose their partners for reasons just as noble or petty or biased as any human. Which works out exactly as well as you'd expect in the long run.

If you don't mind bleak tragedy, The Dark Griffin makes for a pretty interesting read. Taylor dives head-first into a heavy topic and for the most part she handles it well. Her Achilles heel is characterization, particularly in regards to Arren who remains something of a cipher despite him being the main protagonist. We never get much of a sense of his personality or disposition, outside his desperation to reclaim his old status.

Of course, as the first book in a trilogy, there's still plenty of room for growth.

Final Verdict: Good. With a better developed protagonist I'd have said Awesome.

"And places like this are shrinking. Humans always want more land. Soon there will be nowhere left for you or your kind."

Treason Keep by Jennifer Fallon

I've been pretty harsh to Medalon in the past. Mostly due to the handling of the incest plotline (I don't care if you're not genetically related, if you're raised together you're still siblings and it's still weird).

However, I have misjudged other authors on one bad book, so this year I decided to give Fallon a second chance and picked up the sequel Treason Keep at Bookfest. 

And I'm glad I did. While Treason Keep won't ever be in my top-ten list, I was absolutely smitten with one new character.

Princess Arina.

She's royalty from an oceanic culture reluctantly married off to a foreign zealot prince. Finding herself trapped in a very delicate political position, she must fight to maintain her autonomy during a time of war and murderous politics. Unfortunately there's no shortage of interested parties who wish to exploit her. 

What I like about Arina is that she's filled with contradictions: she's a spoilt brat, but sharply intelligent. She's sheltered, but politically astute. Manipulative, but emotionally vulnerable. All of these things describe her, yet none of them encompasses her fully. She's that rare gem; a well rounded character. If you ever read Liveship Traders and was even passingly fond of Malta, you will love Arina.

The other characters and storylines, I could take or leave. I'm not even remotely invested in R'shiel, and I keep mixing up Tarja and Brak. Every time they're onscreen (onpage?) I found myself desperately bored until Arina came back.

While I still can't recommend Meladon on its own merits, I will recommend it as backstory to Treason Keep which I do recommend wholeheartedly. If I don't see more of Arina in the next book, I will be severely disappointed.

Final Verdict: Good. Has a way to go before I'd call it awesome, but Arina represents a big step in the right direction.

"I know the gods exist, whether I believe them 
worth worshiping is an entirely different matter."

Nevernight by Jay Kristoff

If you like amoral assassins, boarding schools from hell and more snark than you can poke a stick at, oh boy do I have the book for you.

Nevernight by Jay Kristoff is that rare, perfect blend of genres. It's as if someone lifted the School for Assassins out of Discworld, added a generous scoop of Locke Lamora, and just a sprinkling of David Eddings. (Look, there's a reason I don't write recipe books.)

The main protagonist is new initiate Mia Corvere at an infamous school for assassins. Not only are the lessons actively trying to kill her, but there's a limited number of graduate positions, meaning competition between students is insanely (read: fatally) high. On the plus side, if she survives, she's got steady career prospects in a high growth industry.

With Pratchett-style footnotes and snide undercuts of dramatic moments, Nightshade is a thoroughly entertaining read. However - and all credit to Jay Kristoff here - he never crosses the line into parody. The stakes remain high and the threats remain real. Rather than downplaying the danger, the humour serves to humanise the characters and stave off darkness-induced-apathy.

In fact, it's the characters who can't laugh at themselves who are the least sympathetic. Mia might be a budding killer with demonic powers and an ax to grind, but her bodycount is a drop in the ocean compared to the respectable citizens who run her world. They consider themselves perfectly righteous and will defend their dignity to the death, which makes them more dangerous than any number of poisons, blades or magic spells.

It's hard work making a murder-school look morally superior, but Kristoff pulls it off. He balances the pathos and laughs beautifully, and Mia comes off as fairly sympathetic despite her proclivity for stabbing people. If you're missing Arya Stark something chronic, Mia will fill the void nicely until the next episode of Game of Thrones.

Final Verdict: Awesome. Can't wait for the sequel.

"Whether any of this is true, of course, remains a matter of drunken speculation on the decks of various pork ships. What is true, is that after learning from Mercutio what exactly went on at the Porkery at age thirteen, a young Mia Corvere swore off eating ham for the rest of her life." 

The Broken Well Trilogy by Sam Bowring

What's there to say about Sam Bowring's Broken Well trilogy?

'Go and read it!' is a start. However, since that would make a pretty short review, I'll try and go into more detail.

Think of the Broken Well like "reverse Star Wars".

At first glance, these two works appear to follow the same rules - and not just because Star Wars is high fantasy set in space. Both have a literal black-and-white religion where you're either following the pretty gods of light (the 'light' side) and are good, or you're following the dark creepy gods (ie, the dark side) and are unrepentantly evil. No backsies, no do-overs, do not pass go or collect $200.

If you didn't know this was high

fantasy, clearly you need to go 
back and watch again.

They also revolve around a prophesied Chosen One that will decide the battle between light and dark... blah blah savior... blah blah destiny. You know the drill. Literally fifty percent of fantasy has this premise.

The Anakin Skywalker stand-in of Bowring's universe is a blue-haired infant born on neutral ground. Upon discovering this, the light side does the obvious ethical thing and sends agents to protect the family from the machinations of the-

- Holy crap, did they just steal a baby?! 

Yep, they totally just stole a baby. While fighting darksiders with the same idea. And just to rub in that light emphatically does NOT equal good, they also had a magical tug of war. Using the baby.

Fortunately, this being a magical tug of war, instead of a splatter of gooey insides we get two whole infants, each with a separate aspect of the original kid's personality. Losara is stolen by the "bad guys" while Bel is stolen by the "good guys". So within the first chapter, we have a protagonist literally torn between light and dark.

And more importantly, we learn that everything I just told you is a lie. Nothing in this world is as
simple as it looks. Dark and light have nothing to do with morality, faith is a poor replacement for strategy, and no one's hands are clean in war.

Sadly, the old 'beard or no-beard' test has proved unreliable.

Remember this because it's the overarching theme of the trilogy.

That's great, you may be thinking, but what does that have to do with Star Wars? This isn't the first fantasy novel to challenge black-and-white coded morality (Sara Douglass and Ann Bishop are two of a few million examples). So lets look at the protagonists.

Our light-sided warrior Bel has a lot in common with Anakin Skywalker. He's a magnificent fighter, ruled by his passions, and romantically devoted to a woman he has nothing in common with. And just as Anakin has a bad habit of dismissing any opposition as "evil", Bel blindly assumes that everything dark is an abomination.

Yet this is just a symptom of a deeper problem. Bel, by his own admission, possesses no higher convictions or ideals. He couldn't tell you specifically why the light is better, because deep down, he doesn't care what side he fights on. The only reason he fights for the light is sheer chance. Had he been stolen by the dark, he'd have fought just as passionately for them.

The one on the left has blue hair.

That's how you tell them apart.

Anakin also had a dim understanding of what he was fighting for (recall his arguments for dictatorship during that schmaltzy romance scene in the meadow) and was only committed to the Jedi insofar as they didn't stand in the way of getting what he wanted. He had zero problems lying to them or violating their rules, and the moment they became an obstacle, he turned on them.

So what does this mean? Aside from Bel's idiocies being a bit more justified than Anakin's?

Well... maybe it's a pointed commentary on what happens when you demonise your enemies.

See, both Anakin and Bel were born balanced between light and dark. Bel was initially unified with Losara. Anakin was told his purpose was not to fight for either side, but to keep both sides in check (see the brilliant Mortis arc of The Clone Wars cartoon series). However, they were both recognised as Chosen Ones and taken to be raised by the light, which is where things go wrong.

Both children were taught a very simple life philosophy: light is good, dark is bad. Losara was a "dark worm" that Bel is better off without, and Anakin's ordinary human emotions (fear, anger, love) must be purged. Understandable when you're raising the Chosen One, and you don't want him having doubts at a critical juncture. Yet utterly inadequate when dealing with real-world situations.

And predictably enough, when dealing with the complexities of adulthood, these simple codes completely fail them. Neither youth has any idea how to deal with a situation that's not black and white. Bel throws a tantrum when his girlfriend and father are (justifiably) arrested for committing crimes, while Anakin falls to pieces when he believes his wife is going to die and the Jedi either can't or won't help. And before you say anything, Vader isn't any better. He's simply Anakin adjusting his moral code to suit himself; if the Sith can help him, then the Sith are good and the Jedi are bad. He just swings from one kind of extremism to another.

It's only in Losara that we see any kind of balance, and that's only because he has an advantage the others don't. Unclouded, unbiased logic.

The dark sorcerer who performs human sacrifice and
political assassination...and is the only guy 
who seems to know what he's doing. 

See, because Bel got all the passion, Losara is physically incapable of reacting with strong emotion. This lack means he immediately sees the contradiction between what he's told and what he's observed. He can't hate or fear, so he alone can see both sides for what they truly are. And while that doesn't stop him from doing what he must (seriously he does some scary shit), he's also the only person who makes any effort to avoid the war.

Perhaps the scene that best encapsulates Losara is his meeting with the dark gods. They demand that he serves them first, over and above even his people. He considers this - bearing in mind he is physically in front of the gods at this time - and replies "I'll serve you as well". Not an outright rejection, but an offer of compromise. Later he even suggests to Bel that they withdraw to their respective lands and ignore the prophecy.

That's Losara in a nutshell. Balance. Compromise. Coexistence.

Of course he'll murder your allies in an unholy ceremony and unleash an unkillable monster on your army if you insist on war. But the point is, he gave you an out. It's not his fault you didn't take it.

On the one hand this could imply the Jedi were right - lack of emotion is the way to go - but actually shows how wrong they were. Rejecting and demonising an entire aspect of one's self, religion, or country leads to ruin. The Jedi and Sith have been fighting the same war for millennia, in the same vicious cycle of retribution and counter-retribution. Bel and Losara's gods didn't do themselves any favours when they parted ways; they just made it possible to destroy each other.

Losara and Bel eventually both acknowledge this, that neither of them are whole and that a great wrong was done to them. Whatever you think of the ending (which I won't go into detail on) it's at least suggested that the cycle of violence has been broken. Whereas Luke Skywalker, who won by utterly rejecting the dark side, saw the same cycle start up again a few years down the road in Force Awakens.... Man, this article gone in a depressing direction.

Anyway, this leaves just one last question.

Is there a second version of Anakin Skywalker running around the Star Wars universe, maybe trying to fix everything his double broke?

Someone who encapsulates everything Anakin is not. Someone utterly brilliant, devious and genre savvy. Someone immune to manipulation and strategically unparalleled -

Holy crap. It's Admiral Thrawn.

Admit it. It's all starting to make sense now.

Goldenhand by Garth Nix

The Superman of the Old Kingdom. 
Awesome powers. Maybe a little bland?

Garth Nix's latest book Goldenhand is difficult to review.

On the one hand, it has well-rounded characters, expands on the world-building of the Old Kingdom series, and ties up loose ends from previous books. I feel comfortable recommending it, both as a book and as appropriate reading material for teenagers.

However because its predecessors were so incredible, it suffers by comparison. Sabriel was a brilliant immersion into a dark world, Lirael was about living up to the demands of legacy, and Clariel was the tragedy of a young woman crushed by an unsympathetic culture. Whereas it's hard to say with Goldenhand because it never settles on any particular theme.

It has two storylines running side by side; Nick and Lirael's quest to understand Nick's abnormal magic, and new character Ferin's desperate journey to deliver a message to the Abhorsen. Both are good stories in their own right. Nick and Lirael's awkward romance was an entertaining exploration of two cultures while Ferin's quest was an intense race for time. But their different themes never quite form a coherent whole, leaving the book with a haphazard feeling. As much as I hate to say it, Lirael's storyline should have been shelved for a later installation and the focus shifted entirely to newcomer Ferin.

Why Ferin you ask? Because she has two things Lirael doesn't.

No powers. Totally kickass.
Basically the Batman
of the Old Kingdom Series.

First, she offers a perspective we've never seen before. Her culture uses Free Magic rather than Charter and Ferin herself is not magical in any way. She's not a Seer or Builder or Abhorsen, just superbly well-trained in survival. Which makes her job that much harder when she's trying to deliver a message to her sworn enemy...in a land where the dead walk...while wounded...being pursued by a relentless enemy...and she does it all without a single solitary second of angst! That's a thousand times more exciting than Lirael and Nick's stilted courtship.

Secondly, Ferin is a foil to the villain. Like Clorr's former self, she was forced into a role she didn't want and that would ultimately have destroyed her. Given Clorr's hand in her suffering, there's also an underlying theme of cyclical abuse just waiting to be tapped. A showdown between the two of them would have carried so much emotional weight - far more than Lireal's vague, well-meaning sympathy.

As much as I love Lirael, this story should have belonged to Ferin. It would just be admitting what's already apparent, because Ferin completely steals the show. She's a fantastic character that could easily carry her own book and hopefully will get the chance oneday.

Regarding the villain Clorr, I don't entirely approve of the series' handling of her (making the only asexual a tragic villain is supremely dodgy) but I'm saving it for another day because I only have so much time to commit to this post. Suffice to say, I appreciate that she was such a well-rounded character, but felt Nix unintentionally fell back on unpleasant storytelling tropes.

I guess my feelings for Goldenhand are the same; I'm of two minds. While its various elements never quite gel together satisfactorily, each element on its own is excellent. Had the book focused on a single story-line and character, I'd be rating it much higher. As is, I recommend Goldenhand purely for fans of the original series. Which is everyone, right?

Shattered Court by MJ Scott

The light, fluffy book somehow more
pessimistic about gender roles than the high
octane nightmare fuel that is Dark Jewels. 

My latest library jaunt brought me Shattered Court, a high fantasy love story by Melbourne writer MJ Scott. This book was a pleasant surprise for me. Despite being heavy on the romance - and you know my feelings on romance - it had some interesting ideas.

It follows the adventures of Lady Sophia Kendall, a royal witch on the verge of inheriting the hereditary magic that will determine her future. However an unforeseen calamity sends her life off-course and her unnatural power makes her an unwilling pawn in court politics. With the help of royal guard Cameron Mackenzie she must navigate the dangerous undercurrents of royalty and religion.

Although much lighter and fluffier, Shattered Court has a lot in common with Anne Bishop's Dark Jewels series. Both depict cultures centred around women whose magic performs a vital function. In Dark Jewels a female-only caste called queens have the ability to rejuvenate the land, while in Shattered Court royal witches commit their magic to the protection of the land. But the conclusions each writer reaches are different.

Where queens enjoy nearly unchallenged dominance, royal witches can't even decide who they marry. In fact their magic makes them akin to valuable livestock, traded off to increase the status of whatever noble is currently in favor. Given the fact they once were very powerful, you can make a pretty good case for MJ Scott depicting the logical outcome of a society like Dark Jewels.

However, on closer inspection a key difference between the two roles emerges: the element of choice.

Given Anglion's situation, maybe this is why 
the Blood are so gung-ho about preserving 
female power?

Whatever other issues I may have with the Dark Jewels, it's fair to say that the characters have a fair range of options. Being born into a queen doesn't mean you have to perform the duties of one. There's even some leeway with gender roles, as women can serve in courts and men can rule in certain circumstances.

Contrast that to Shattered Court, where royal witches have no choice at all in their duties. They undergo a ritual to bind their magic the minute they turn eighteen, information is edited to hide the ritual's true significance, and the binding itself is permanent. Unlike queens, who are only temporarily inconvenienced by rejuvenating the land, it's implied that royal witches never regain their full strength.

Given this difference, Shattered Court isn't so much a deconstruction of Dark Jewels as a 'for want of a nail'. The point is that while the abilities of a certain class might be valuable, that alone won't ensure they're valued as people. You also have to ensure informed consent in the performance of those abilities. To go for the obvious real-life connection, childbirth is an essential female-specific role but women haven't always had control over the process.

Maybe I'm over-analyzing (fine, definitely over-analyzing), but the world-building kept me reading long past my usual threshold for romance. It was a very easy read and the characters were likable. I was particularly intrigued by the Princess Eloisa who played her cards very close to the chest, making it impossible to tell if she was an ally or an enemy. Personally I hope she arranged everything, because that would make her a master manipulator on the level of Nick Fury.

Shattered Court might appear like harmless fluff, but it's smarter than it seems, and doesn't outstay its welcome. It ends on the perfect note to leave you hungry for more.

A Dark Winter by Dave Luckett

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't
have laughed at the Prince. 

A Dark Winter by Dave Luckett is one I've mentioned before. It was a young adult novel released in 1998 that won an Aurelis award and was nominated for another. It distinguished itself from its peers with a business-like approach to swords-and-sorcery.

Take its approach to characters for example. The typical hero is usually someone that initially appears unimportant (like Frodo, Rand Al'Thor, or Harry Potter), but is eventually revealed to be "the most talented, most interesting and most extraordinary person in the universe", to borrow a phrase. And there's a reason for that; being special is a powerful fantasy. People (especially teenagers) want to identify with Captain America kicking ass, not the Shield agents cleaning up after him.

But the protagonist of A Dark Winter starts out ordinary and stays ordinary. Noble blood is never revealed, nor is a gift for magic, nor a convenient prophecy. Willan is just a guardsman who insulted the wrong noble and was sent on a dangerous journey to the frontlines of a magical war.

This could have easily backfired into boring, but Willan's very ordinariness is what injects tension into the story. It feels like here's a real chance he might die. Add in his cynicism and crisp outlines of violence, and we have a swift-moving story about ordinary people existing in a world of magic. If they're skilled, careful and lucky, they might survive the monsters and zombies long enough to reach the hordes of goblin soldiers.

Willan's not the only one either. All the characters feel as if they're at sea in a world beyond their control. Silvus is haunted by a gift he doesn't want, Ruane is tangled in the schemes of his political rival, and Hrudis is caught in a cruel struggle where even her enemies are brainwashed victims. In a very real way it's a deconstruction of high fantasy's obsession with magic and war. They're not glorious or awe-worthy. They're a pain in the ass at best, and ugly death at worst.

A Dark Winter is a grounded, surprisingly logical story set in a fantastical world. Ultimately perhaps that's why it wasn't as popular as it deserved; it's a little too grounded in reality while being constrained by its target audience (Think Game of Thrones without the carnage and sex). However it's still a great book for teenagers and won't shame an adult to read. I'm certainly going to read the sequels.

Sisters of Fire by Kim Wilkins

Last year I reviewed Daughters of the Storm, a compelling fusion of high fantasy and high tragedy by Kim Wilkins where there were no clear-cut heroes or villains. (I may or may not have been gushing like a giddy schoolgirl.)

So I'm very happy to report that Sisters of Fire is a worthy sequel, following the fallout of the characters' choices. Bluebell hunts down a magic sword rumored to bring about her death, Ivy takes desperate measures in an unhappy marriage, Rose struggles to save her daughter from an insidious threat, Willow follows the path of her religion, and Ash seeks to prevent a terrible future.

Given Ash's adventures it would be easy to argue the book is about the inevitability of fate and being doomed by our inherent failings. However that overlooks the characters' growth (or lack thereof) and how they respond to the consequences of their actions. At least one sister has learned from her mistakes, takes care not to repeat them, and earns a reasonably happy outcome. Another sister seems intent on repeating her past on an even more disastrous scale, and another seems tragically incapable of change.

Apparently the moral of the story is that fate can be challenged so long as we learn from our past and don't go repeating the same cycle. (Which was why a lot of of my time was spent going "Oh Ivy, no".)

Bluebell isn't quite as bad as her sister, but still isn't much better. She remains the same fascinatingly complex character that's a mix of both selfish and selfless. On the one hand, everything she does is with the good of the kingdom in mind. On the other, she demands sacrifices from others that she herself refuses to make, such as selling her sisters into unhappy marriages while ignoring her father's request she marry to produce an heir. This contradiction makes her the most compelling character of the series.

She's also one of the best written female warriors I've ever encountered in high fantasy. Many similar characters occupy a position of resistance, where they must earn the respect of the men around them (Eowyn, Brienne of Tarth, Alanna of Trebond, Princess Cassandra...I could go on) but Bluebell doesn't earn respect, she expects it. In fact, she encompasses many traits traditionally associated with men, including brutal practicality, single mindedness and a certain lack of empathy toward others. And none of this makes her a villain, just a person with flaws.

Speaking of villains, I won't name any names, but I found their evolution equally interesting. The lengths of their self-deception was a little frightening, as was their expanding influence. It was difficult, however, not to sympathise with someone so clearly insane. A lot of pain and death could have been averted by access to a good counselor and prescription medication.

Unless of course their delusions aren't delusions, in which case I'm terrified for the next book.

"Bluebell didn't like the idea of magic; she didn't like anything she couldn't see and smash."

Top Five Star-Crossed Lovers in Aussie High Fantasy

Romance is a big part of high fantasy. Whether it's Etta's misguided yearning for Kennit that made her consort to a pirate king or Daenerys' marriage to Drogo that put her on the road to power, the romances are epic and life-changing.

However they don't always work out. Sometimes they end very badly. So here the top five star-crossed lovers in Australian high fantasy. All couples on this list share a mutual attraction which they are unable to follow through on and originate from a series by an Australian author.

Because this post will be discussing plot points of various books, watch out for *SPOILERS*.

Prophecy doesn't care what you want.  

5. Axis and Farady - The Axis Trilogy

Yes, big surprise. A Sara Douglass novel is on a list of ill-fated romances.

Axis and Faraday met during a relatively innocent time of their lives, before they encountered the Forbidden or the Prophecy that would shape their lives and very identities. Axis was a bastard prince assigned to escort Faraday to her wedding to his hated half-brother. Their forbidden attraction would shape the fate of Tencendor.

But not in a way that either of them would like. Axis' enemy got wind of their love and captured Faraday, intending to use her as a hostage. Axis had to watch her torn to literal pieces in front of him, unable to move without losing his advantage. And he only managed it because he'd fallen in love with someone else, which just adds insult to injury.

What could be more romantic than fighting
monsters in a bloody war?

4. Willan and Hrudis - A Dark Winter

For a slightly less bloody example, there's the unlikely attraction between Hrudis and Willan.

Hrudis was a shield-maiden, sworn to chastity and the sword. Willan was a guardsman-turned-squire among reinforcements sent to help defend her homeland. It would be a stretch to call it a relationship as they never made any promises or consummated the simmering sexual tension - but they were trying not to be killed by zombies or monsters, so you can't fault their priorities.

In fact, Willan and Hrudis managed to act like adults, which is a rare thing to see. They knew from the start it was never going to happen, not without one of them giving up a vital calling. There was no drama, no angst, just a single quiet kiss before they parted ways forever.

3. Rhian and Zandakar - Godspeaker Trilogy

No, royal weddings don't fix everything.

Speaking of acting like adults, there's a reason the only two sane people in the Godspeaker Trilogy are attracted to one another. Rhian was a princess struggling to claim her throne in the face of rampant misogyny. Zandakar was a prince exiled from his home for daring to suggest that maybe genocide wasn't the best foreign policy.

Zandakar was one of the first men to ever take Rhian's ambitions seriously and Rhian gave Zandakar a much-needed purpose. In any other story, they would have married, bringing peace and unity between their lands.

But not this one.

In a surprisingly realistic twist, Zandakar returned home to rule his people while Rhian remained behind to rebuild hers. They never spoke of their feelings and never met again.

Love doesn't overcome every
obstacle. And thank god for that.

2. Zenith and StarDrifter - The Wayfarer Redemption

I'm going to catch so much flack for this...Yes, he's her grandfather. Yes, it's all kinds of ickie and wrong. Just let me explain.

Zenith and StarDrifter were from the royal family of the Icarri, and therefore cursed only to ever feel real passion for those within the same bloodline. So their falling in love was totally acceptable in their culture, except that Zenith was raised with human attitudes and was revolted by her own desires, ending their relationship before it even began.

And then Zenith was gruesomely murdered by a madwoman, because this is a Sara Douglass series and no one can ever have nice things, ever.

1. Ylena and Alyd - The Quickening

Beauty may not be a curse but pervy
princes definitely are (fanart by celladore)

Children avert your eyes! The final and worst-fated couple on this list are not for the faint-hearted.

Ylena and Alyd were two young nobles sickeningly in love. Unfortunately Ylena received word that a corrupt prince intended to demand her as a tourney prize and married Alyd in secret. When the prince found out he backed off, because apparently ceremonial rape is okay, but adultery is just a step too far.

The day is saved, the bad guy is thwarted, it's a happy ending, right?

Wrong. The prince did not take rejection well. He framed Ylena's family for treason, executed Alyd and puts his decapitated head in the cell where Ylena was imprisoned so she could look at it all day and night. Ylena eventually escaped, only to die a painfully pointless death.

Proving that you don't have to be in a George R. Martin novel for your epic stars-colliding romance to go down in flames.

The Crucible by Sara Douglass

For some readers, the Axis and Wayfarer Trilogies were the peak of Sara Douglass' career. And more power to them; there's a special place in my heart for epic adventures viewed through a twisted lens, where the heroes' hands aren't clean and even the happiest of endings is bittersweet.

For me, however,  Sara Douglass' magnum opus was The Crucible.

This three-book trilogy is set in the Middle-Ages with a bitter, self-righteous monk chosen by Heaven and Hell to cast the deciding vote in their never-ending conflict. All Thomas has to do is choose who will get his soul; Heaven or a faithless prostitute. It seems like a no-brainer, which of course means it's not that simple. And to make matters worse, demons are strewing all sorts of temptations in Thomas' path...surely it won't matter if his soul is just a little tarnished...

Not many people have heard of this series, probably because it sounds like Christian propaganda. I'd have steered clear if I didn't trust Sara Douglass (replace 'trust' with 'addict looking for her next fix') and found it well worth the price of admission. Like Thomas' apparently simple choice, there's a lot more going on than is immediately apparent.

The first book The Nameless Day is the hardest to get through, because Thomas has his head firmly lodged up his arse for most of it. He's thoroughly unlikable character, utterly convinced of the sinful nature of mankind (especially women) and his own special status as God's Chosen One. It takes several gut-punches before he starts un-clenching and realises it's not a sin to give a damn about other people.

The Wounded Hawk is where everything really takes off, and Thomas (and the readers) start getting answers about what's really going on. It seems everyone has a secret and an agenda, even Thomas' closest friends. Whether they're scheming for England's throne or a heavenly one (or both), people are doing awful things to fulfill their goals. Yet he also finds grace in the most unlikely places.

Matters rockets to a conclusion in The Crippled Angel which is historical fiction on crack, including

Image by ChristinZakh.
This is not fanart - but it's an
accurate summation of how
everyone's day is going. 

Joan of Arc, sleazy angels, a scheming demon prince, Jesus breaking out of heaven, and an inanimate landmass that takes an extreme dislike to its would-be king. Thomas has done a complete one-eighty from his previous self and is a likable guy who just wants to save mankind. Unfortunately, his enemies have had thousands of years to prepare and have multiple layers of entrapment to ensure he chooses correctly.

This is Sara Douglass at the top of her game. It toys with expectations and there's as much squalor and brutality as there is sex and glory. Anyone with strong feelings about Christianity will definitely be offended by it's take on God and organised religion while historians will be tickled pink by its use of historical figures (though I'm told some events and dates were played fast and loose).

For me, it was a fantastic deconstruction of the politics of religion and helped articulate my own uneasiness about Christianity. The ideas and principles might be sound, just be wary of the people building a power base on them because they'll always have an agenda.

And it was just really nice to see Jesus get a happy ending for once. After two thousand years the guy deserves it.

Liquid Gold by Tansy Rayner Roberts

It's not often sequels can live up to the original. Fortunately for Tansy Rayner Roberts, Liquid Gold is one of them.

Her original novel Splashdance Silver gleefully embraced high fantasy tropes. Liquid Gold does the same, but starts to move ever so slightly into science fiction territory, adding a splash of time travel into the mix. I personally prefer the original, but it's like the difference between Tim-Tams and Maltesers - they're both chocolate so I'm hardly going to bitch about it.

The novel begins with the accidental (or not) death of Kassa Daggersharp. Her motley crew split off in separate directions, Aragorn to contemplate life not magically bound to a crazy pirate wench, Tippet to pursue his career as a bard, and Daggar to follow a scary blonde mercenary that has stolen something of world-destroying significance.

The real backbone of this story is Daggar and his blonde mercenary. She feels like she should be the main character of her own novel (Roberts, if you ever read this, yes that is a request) and has great chemistry with Daggar. As always, snark and banter is where Roberts' characters shine and there's a vast cast of quirky personas to love.

Where the story sags, unexpectedly, is Kassa and Aragorn. Aragorn's storyline has a touch too much angst and Kassa's is a touch too ridiculous. While both elements were always present in Splashdance Silver, Liquid Gold doesn't quite balance them properly. More importantly, the main villain doesn't quite live up to Talle's level of stylish evil, although to be scrupulously fair, no one could match that conniving glossy-haired gem of villainy.

I guess I was just hoping to learn more about Kassa and Talle's mutual grudge, so I can finish my smutty slash fanfic - I mean, um, get answers, about the mysterious grudge between these two fascinating characters. Still, despite the lack of Talle, Liquid Gold is still a fun romp through crazy world I love very much.

"The gods can cope with individual atheists, but they take it personally when they start forming committees."

Great Zoo of China by Matthew Reilly

I was really trying not to do this. I did not want to review this book.

The Great Zoo of China is just... bad. Really, really bad.

Like the worst rip-off of Jurassic Park you've ever read, but with a  half-arsed attempt at dragons instead of dinosaurs. And not in a fun I-know-this-is-crap-but-I'm-going-to-have-fun-with-it-anyway. More like Matthew Reilly pitched this idea to his publisher when he was drunk, and then had to write it sober to a deadline that kept getting pushed forward, and the stress killed whatever love he had for the material, and he would have stopped but his kitchen really needed a renovation... You get the idea.

To be honest, I don't care that the human characters are flat and one-dimensional. In a story like this, they're just walking meat puppets. They're only around long enough to die gruesomely. But the one thing that should have been developed coherently are the dragons.

Unfortunately the story can't decide what metaphor it's exploring. Jurassic Park's dinosaurs, depending on whether you go by the book or movie, were either an exploration of the dangers of technology or the consequences of not applying technology wisely. The Great Zoo of China is initially similar, then sort of devolves into a weird "don't use dangerous dragons as cuddly theme park attractions, except for the good dragons, they're okay" space-whale aesop.

The sad part is Reilly completely missed the interesting point, which was "holy crap, they're knowingly enslaving intelligent life!" No wonder the dragons were so uptight. If I were a carnivorous ancient reptile forced to perform circus trips for barely evolved creatures I'd have eaten back in the good old days, you bet I'd be up for some carnage.

By neatly sidestepping all the tricky, interesting questions like 'how do you deal with sentient life with a legit grudge, blue-and-orange morality, and really big teeth' the book loses a lot of its oomph. It felt like someone was trying to mash a creature feature and a junior high school fantasy novel together. The two tones just don't mesh. If Reilly were going to take inspiration for dragons, he should have used something more sophisticated than Eragon.

*Re-reading last paragraph.* Wow, that was really mean. I never thought I'd compare anything to Eragon.

Okay, I take it back. He should have used something other than Dragonriders of Pern. Maybe The Hobbit or Liveship Traders. Both use intelligent dragons that are indifferent or opposed to humankind and have tones that would fit better into the creature-feature that Great Zoo of China desperately wants to be. In the words of Matthew Reilly himself:-

       "A monster movie is only as good as the monster in it."

Captive Prince & Prince's Gambit by C.S. Pacat

The impossible just happened.

I read a series that restored my faith in romance novels.

Yes, I know. I'm as shocked as you. I honestly never thought this would happen. I gave up years ago, burned out on poorly written supernatural romance or Mills and Boon that sacrificed characterization for sex and plot (always in that order) and thinly veiled rape scenes (yeah, you wish I was joking). I'll read it for the porn, obviously, but I gave up pretending there was anything like higher art to it.

Then I cracked open the Captive Prince... okay, so I pressed the button to turn my kindle on... and rediscovered hope.

The Captive Prince was sexy, it was imaginative, it didn't do the literary equivalent of throwing characterization out of a moving car. In fact it cradled characterization to its manly bosom and made sweet tender love to it.

Yes, I went there. I wrote that sentence. Because it happened.

The premise is your standard sexy slavery premise. (Been there, done that, hidden the books where no casual peruser of my bookshelf can ever find them.) The prince Damon is betrayed by his bastard half-brother and sold as a pleasure slave to a neighbouring enemy kingdom. Trapped in this decadent foreign culture, he has to survive a power struggle with his new owner, prince Laurent, and escape home to re-take his throne. You can already see the sexy questionably-consensual shenanigans coming, no pun intended.

But this book focuses on what romance novels usually ignore. The characters. Specifically, their motivations, their loyalties, their place in the world. These things aren't warped to shape the plot, they're what drives the plot. They're the reason the two leads despise one another, and the reason they eventually come to a grudging respect (pun intended). Despite there being very little sex, at least between the two leads, the delicious slow-winding tension proves what I've suspected all these years - good characterization can be sexy.

The world-building is no slouch either. In case you haven't figured it out, this is male-male romance and the author's taken an unusual tactic in normalizing it. Apparently in Laurent's culture there's a superstitious dread attached to bastards, so in order to safely engage in premarital sex, the upper classes openly keep same-sex 'pets'. Interestingly Damon's culture has no stigma against either kind of sex, and he accuses Laurent's people  of 'making things needlessly complicated for themselves'. In a way it's representative of the two cultures and two men; Laurent is all elaborate schemes and hidden agendas while Damon is bluntly straightforward and blind to nuance. It's one of the reasons they consistently misunderstand one another and also turn out to be very good for each other.

Readers should be aware that this is the first book of a trilogy. The first two have been released, but the third won't be out until February. Both are a decent length with self-contained stories and incredibly addictive. I hopped straight from the Captive Prince to Prince's Gambit, even though I had work the next day. On a more serious note, some readers may find certain subject matter disturbing. Sexual assault is threatened and depicted, and child abuse is discussed. I respect the author for actually addressing these issues instead of pretending slavery is all sunshine and rainbows, but some readers may want to steer clear.

If that doesn't bother you, I highly recommend these books. They're not going to win the next Miles Franklin Award but they perform spectacularly well inside their niche and aren't afraid to take chances. Brisbane fans also note that the author is going to be at Supanova this month so it's a great chance to get your stuff signed and thank her for her part in guiding the romance genre out of the dark place Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey took it to in recent years.

It was a novel experience, reading romance without the shame or regret or bitter self-loathing, but I think I like it.

"A golden prince was easy to love if you did not have to watch him picking wings off flies."

Five Worst Fathers in Australian Fantasy

Father's Day is come and gone, and I've decided to incorporate this into my next article; the five worst father or father figures in Australian fantasy. Why the worst? Because whinging about things is easier than praising them, obviously.

To be fair, what's happening here is
only partly due to StarDrifter's
absentee parenting...

Remember, these are not the King Magnuses or StarDrifters of the world. These are not fathers who tried their best, but made mistakes or bad judgement calls. These are the fathers that either didn't give a damn or went out of their way to make their kid's life hell.

Remember,*SPOILERS BELOW*. 

***

5. Galen Flint from The Last Stormlord
He's a minor character who only appears in the first book, but I argue he is indirectly responsible for every bad thing that happens in that series. His solution to abject poverty is to drink until he forgets about it and his reaction to his son's god-like power is to terrify him into hiding it. If this guy had been even remotely supportive, Shale would have showed his abilities to the Rainlords, the Rainlords would have taken him to the Cloudlord in time to learn rain summoning properly, and Taquar would never have got his greasy mitts on the throne. There's a lesson here; good parenting can save the world.

A naive, lonely sorcerer
with god- like power and
daddy issues..just what every
demon wants!

4. Michael from Mage Heart
How to mess up a kid; buy her from her desperate mother, lie to her about the circumstances, teach her to fear and despise her own gender, isolate her within her own culture, then die leaving her alone in the world. Small wonder Dion keeps playing around with demons; she is so deeply confused about her own sexuality I'm surprised she doesn't have a breakdown every time a man stops to ask her the time.

3. Longfield from Tender Morsels
Honestly, this guy doesn't even merit the title of father. Abusive rapist jerkass that deserves to be eaten by a bear is closer. You know what, on second thought, I'm taking Longfield off this list and saving him for that 'most contemptible characters you'd like to bury in a swamp' list I'm working on.

3. Battu from Prophecy's Ruin
Another text-book demonstration on how to screw up a child. Granted, we can't quite put the blame for Losara and Bel's severing on Battu; he wasn't even in the same country when that happened. But we can blame him for stealing a child from loving parents, raising him in an atmosphere that's by turns neglectful and oppressive, grooming him for a battle quite literally against his own self, and attempting to manipulate his affections for Battu's own selfish agenda. Luckily Losara doesn't have any pesky 'feelings' and manipulates him right back. Happy Father's day, Battu. You deserve everything that comes to you.

Not only did Gayed raise a
fanatically loyal psychic
assassin, he was genre
savvy enough to die before
she inevitably turned on him.

2. General Gayed from the Mirage Makers
This guy is clearly taking notes from Battu and Michael. He also steals a child from loving parents, brainwashes her to serve his own agenda and turns her against her own identity in fundamentally damaging ways.
The difference is he's actually good at it. Considering Ligea is psychic, the fact that he has her so twisted round she believes he loves her is kind of impressive... in a sick, horrifying, you-bastard kind of way.

1. Everyone from Evil Genius
And for the winner we have a group nomination; Cadel's adoptive father, his secret imprisoned father, and his psychologist father-figure. All of them work together to manipulate Cadel in deliberate, callous ways and screw him up severely. Really it's mostly luck that he didn't turn out a raving psychopath like they were hoping. Fortunately he has the sense to go find himself a healthy father-figure elsewhere or we'd have a lot more to worry about than a toddler playing god with the Sydney public transport system.

So there you have it - the five worst of the worst fathers in Australian fantasy. This will either destroy your faith in fatherhood or make you appreciate the one you have. One of the two.

Stormlord's Exhile by Glenda Larke

Stormlord's Exile was everything I was hoping for.

This finale to the Watergivers trilogy pays off on existing storylines and while following the usual form of fantasy novels, managed to do a lot that was new and different. It's one of the things I can always count on Glenda Larke for, to give me a traditional fantasy with non-traditional elements. (For an example on how to bore me to tears, see Eregon).

One positive aspect I mentioned in my review of the first novel was the world-building, and that hasn't changed. I love this world's distinctive culture and priorities. It's definitely not the usual medieval-style world. In fact, I believe it's meant to be futuristic Australia, which is probably why it resonates so deeply with me. If I were a mad genius that could engineer humans to have a super-power to survive the fall of the civilization, the ability to manipulate water would be top of the list. (That or immunity to any kind of venom - the number of times I came close to being bitten as a kid kind of freaks me out in retrospect...)

Moving on, the characters are straightforward while losing none of their complexity. Jasper's feud with his brother ended in an unexpected way that was oddly satisfying, and I enjoyed the twist in the storyline involving Laisa and Senya. Laisa is the most perfect villain ever, because she's not really a villain; she's a survivor. At one point in the book, someone muses that while Taquar has no true moral code, Laisa does, but is perfectly capable of putting it aside when it conflicts with her self-interest. Senya could be taken as a deconstruction and reconstruction of the annoying two-dimensional love-rival cliche. No spoilers, but a lot of things I found previously irritating about her are explained here.

I can't go into much more details without ruining the plot, but I was very happy with how this trilogy turned out. It's the kind I'd love to see turned into a movie or mini-series. George Miller would direct, Claudia Black would be Laisa, Rose McIver would be Ryka. I give this book a big red stamp of approval.

One thing I should note is that Stormlord's Exhile was rather hard to find. I eventually hard to order in from Pulp Fiction in the city (FYI, they are amazing. Very friendly and very reasonable prices). Apparently there were only 11 copies left with Harper-Collins and it's no longer in print, so if you want a brand new edition, you'd better hop to it.

"We have lived too long attached to our past, a past that should mean nothing anymore."

Master Post - High Fantasy

See below my masterlist of fantasy I've read (not comprehensive - still updating). Those marked in red have been reviewed, those in black haven't been. Links are included. 

I've split this list into separate sections, to make it easier to navigate. Enjoy!

Epic:

Books or series in the style of Tolkien or Robert Jordan where the world-building is vast and the action is big. 


The Broken Well trilogy by Sam Bowring - An interesting deconstruction of the black and white encoded morality common to high fantasy. Contains a very genre-savvy villain, for a given value of 'villain'.

Strange Threads by Sam Bowring - Series featuring a very disturbing villain, but has an interesting take on magic as an aberration rather than a natural phenomenon.

The Black Magician by Trudi Canavan - A series about a low-born girl who discovers she has forbidden magic.

The Bitterbynde by Cecilia Dark-Thornton - The first book of this series contains fascinating ideas about memory and identity, but the second and third are a huge letdown. Recommended cautiously.

Battle Axe by Sara Douglass - First book of the Axis trilogy. A fairytale on a bad acid trip and my first love in high fantasy. Also see the sequel Enchanter and Starman. 

The Wayfarer Redemption by Sara Douglass - Sequel series to the above Axis Trilogy, wherein every bad decision comes back to haunt the characters. Cruelly knocks down every trope set up in the prequels and makes me love it anyway.

Beyond the Hanging Wall by Sara Douglass - Stand-alone book. One of Douglass' early works. A decent read about restoration of the rightful ruler to a land.

DarkGlass Mountain by Sara Douglass - Series that's both sequel and canon-welding for the Wayfarer Redemption and Beyond the Hanging Wall. A definite must-read for any fans of the previous trilogies, but anyone else should probably avoid.

Medalon by Jennifer Fallon - I had some serious problems with the brother-sister relationship, as outlined in my review. I'm much more fond of the sequel Treason Keep, which introduces the very likable Princess Arina.

Symphony of Ages by Elizabeth Haydon - The main female character was a moronic twit, but everyone else was fine and the world-building was original. A friend of mine with usually good taste loves this series, if that makes a difference.

Tender Morsels by Margo Lanagan - Gorgeous writing of a world where reality is not quite what it seems. Deals with nasty topics like rape and incest, but doesn't fetishize them.

The Quickening by Fiona McIntosh - No, not the Highlander phenomenon. Though I guess it does have a few things in common. The magic in this series is simple, logical and wreaks an almighty amount of havok. Highly recommended. 

Valisar by Fiona McIntosh - I never got beyond the first book, however, she has done great things with other series, so it may have improved.

Fisherman's Children by Karen Miller - Some nice world-building, but the main character really annoyed me.

Power and Majesty by Tansy Raynor Roberts - I avoid the sequels, but the first is a fantastically entertaining piece of decadent world-building.

Splashdance Silver by Tancy Rayner Roberts - One of the few comedies on this list, in the style of Terry Pratchett. Riffs high fantasy so hard it will have you in stitches. Also see the sequel Liquid Gold.

The Dark Griffin by KJ Taylor - A well-thought out take-that at bond animals with an omniscient morality licence. Tackles themes of discrimination and racism. 

Daughters of the Storm by Kim Wilkins* - First book of an unpredictable tragedy with characters that are neither good nor evil, and leaves just enough threads dangling for the sequel Sisters of Fire. Can't wait to see where this series goes.

Non-Western:

Books or series that have imaginative world-building - not the usual Western medieval fare. 

Born of Empire by Simon Brown - Has some great world-building, but falls down in plot, characters and just about everything else.

Threshold by Sara Douglass - Depicts a very problematic relationship with serious issues of consent, but still an extremely entertaining read about an Eldritch abomination trying to devour a world resembling ancient Egypt.

Tales of the Otori by Lian Hearn - A beautifully written depicting of changing times within a Japanese-like culture.

Nevernight by Jay Kristoff - A book about an assassin school set in a civilization reminiscent of ancient Rome. By turns hilarious and tragic. Thoroughly recommended.

Watergivers by Glenda Larke - A power struggle set in a barren world where the aristocracy has the ability to manipulate water. Thoughtful exploration of the harsh realities of this system.

Mirage Makers by Glenda Larke - A great main character with an interesting mix of honor and underhandedness, torn between the culture she was born into and the one she was raised by. I've read the first book, but am struggling to get through the second.

The Aware by Glenda Larke - Contains a kick-ass female protagonist. Not my favorite book, but a good way to spend a few hours.

Havenstar by Glenda Larke - Walks a fine line between science fiction and magic in a dark dystopian future. Great story with a very sensible, cynical protagonist.

Godspeaker Trilogy by Karen Miller - Vivid characters struggling through a brutal, violent world. Though the first book was set in a fascinatingly different culture, the second and third revert to standard medieval fare (but are still very good!).

Romance:

Books that focus mostly on romantic relationships. 


The Last T'En by Cory Daniells - A combination romance and political thriller, where the last of an ancient bloodline must seduce a conqueror to save her kingdom. A little trashy, but very addictive.

The Devil's Diadem by Sara Douglass - Also could fit into the alternate history list below. Features fairies and demons and deadly family secrets.

Medair by Andrea K. Host - Deals with cultural imperialism and loss. Is one of the few books to have a main character's triumph be about accepting failure.

Seven Waters by Juliet Marillier - Nicely written series about Celtic myths. The point-of-view characters are all-perfect Mary-Sues who never make a mistake or a misstep but if you can ignore that, they're a good read.

The Captive Prince by C. S. Pacat - A gay romance political thriller. Yes, it is all of those things. This restored my faith in romance after the beating it took from Twilight.

Mage Heart by Jane Routley - The first half is fantastic, the second half focuses way too much on the yawn-worthy romance. Also see the rather violent sequel Fire Angels.

Shattered Court by MJ Scott - A light, fluffy romance with some interesting ideas below the surface. Very easy read and good for a lazy afternoon.

Giants of the Frost by Kim Wilkins - A reincarnation love-story with vikings. Switches between the modern world and the realm of the gods, so falls into high fantasy by default.

Historical: 

Series or books that take place more or less in our own history, even if it's an alternate version of history.

The Troy Game by Sara Douglass - You will either love this or hate this quadrilogy. It melds fantasy, myth and history into a two-thousand year old competition to control a powerful labyrinth within London. Characters are born over and over against to scheme and betray each other. A guilty pleasure of mine, but my brother loves it too, so make of that what you will.

The Crucible by Sara Douglass - Unless you have problems with alternate depictions of Christian beliefs, you need to read this trilogy. It's smart, subversive and just damn fun to read.

The Ancient Future by Traci Harding - Is this a good time to admit I don't really enjoy Traci Harding's work? Probably not - I'll just go skulk in a corner and hide my face in shame...

The Autumn Castle by Kim Wilkins - A combination of Narnia and high-octane nightmare fuel. Switches between the modern world and a magical alternate reality.



Teens:

Series or books aimed at teenagers or young adults. Non-explicit violence or sex, or simply avoids it altogether. 


Obernewtyn by Isobelle Carmody - The first book was the best. After this they started dragging out and the author hasn't even gotten around to completing the series yet.

The Witches of Eileanan by Kate Forsyth - Imaginative fantasy world with likable characters. Had the occasional bit of graphic violence, so may not be for every teenager. Recommended with caution.

A Dark Winter by Dave Luckett - A deconstruction of high fantasy's obsession with magic and warfare. A great read for both teenagers and adults.

Silver Brumby by Elyne Mitchell - Beautiful classic series about a lineage of wild horses in the Snowy Mountains. Every child who ever wanted a horse should read these.

Sabriel by Garth Nix - Best teen series ever, full stop. Good for both adults and teenagers. Everyone should read this, along with the sequels Lirael, Clariel and Goldenhand. 

Song of the Summer King by Jess E. Owen - Griffins and cultural imperialism. Fairly simplistic plot but imaginative premise.

The Last Wizard by Tony Shillitoe - This was a pretty decent read, with a protagonist who refreshingly didn't have or need a romance story-line. Definitely for teens though; some of the aesops were a little anvilicious.

Stone Mage and the Sea by Sean Williams - The story drags a little but has some very non-conventional world-building.