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?

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."

City of Light by Keri Arthur

As a rule, I steer clear of Keri Arthur's work. Not because it isn't good (it is), but because it leans too far into paranormal romance territory for my tastes. I like my action bloodier and my romance more subdued.

But her recent novel, City of Light, is like she psychically sensed all my reservations and wrote a 300 page book just to prove me wrong. 

It's set in a future dystopia after humanity lost a war with shapeshifters (thus combining my two favorite things; magic and science fiction). Life is hard on everyone, but especially Tiger, a genetically engineered supersoldier that miraculously survived the purge of her kind after the war. She spends her time hiding out in an old lab and talking to ghosts, until she rescues two living people and is reluctantly drawn into a mystery of disappearing children and illegal experimentation.

What's interesting about Tiger is that she exists so much in her head. Being discovered as dechet is a death sentence so she spends most of her time calculating who to lie to and what to lie about. It makes the outside world so exhausting it's completely understandable why Tiger would prefer to be alone and not deal with that rig-moral.

The real surprise is that she's not more introverted and bitter than she is. What happened to her kind is horrifying, especially when they were the most blameless faction in the war. They were exploited by humans, murdered by the shapeshifters, and depicted as monsters by history.  It's the kind of horrendous injustice that can only be reflected by real life and Tiger is way too calm and philosophical about it.

To kill or not to kill Jonas.
That is the question. 

For example, there is that gem of a moment where potential love-interest Jonas first refuses to believe in the dechet massacres, then says it was the only way to get rid of the "perversion". And he throws it in the face of a woman he suspects to be a survivor. If Tiger had decided to throw Jonas to the vampire horde there and then, I'd have held her coat. I didn't hate even Branna this much because at least Branna was upfront about wanting to kill Tiger. Jonas' words are something more insidious.

I will say this though - Tiger doesn't turn into a puddle of goo when Jonas softens toward her. She correctly perceives that his shift in attitude isn't a change of opinion toward her kind, just a re-evaluation of how valuable her skill-set is. Like her human masters before him, he wants to use her. And she is not afraid to tell him and his asshole friends to eat a dick.

Slow. Fucking. Clap.

I really hope that she doesn't backslide in the next novel, because it is incredibly satisfying to see a protagonist stick to her guns. If Jonas does become a love interest in Winter Halo, he'd better do some damn character development first.

Vigil by Angela Slatter

Angela Slatter is one of those writers I wish I'd discovered sooner. Her short stories have been nominated three times for Aurelis awards and despite being mostly fantasy, there's nothing sweet or trite about them. They go back to the dark heart of fairy tales, where trespassing children can and do end up in the witch's oven, and fair maidens only get out of their predicaments by being very resourceful and brave.

So imagine my glee at discovering Slatter's recent full-length novel Vigil!

This book is full-blown urban fantasy, delving into a rich underworld underlying Brisbane where the supernatural Weyrd live unseen among humankind. The half-human Verity Fassbinder must find a dangerous monster before it exposes the Weyrd while solving two disappearances that may or may not be related.

Verity is your standard urban fantasy protagonist. She stands between two cultures and occupies a role of protector/mediator that is thankless but necessary (for other examples, see Rachel Morgan, Anita Blake and Harry Dresden). She's smart, cynical and is quick with irreverent quips. However, repetition is not necessarily a bad thing, as this kind of character is traditional in urban fantasy for a reason. (For an example of this kind of character that doesn't work, see Faythe from Stray, who allegedly possesses all these qualities and demonstrates none).

That said, Verity does manage to distinguish herself from her cohorts in at least one important way: she doesn't have anyone telling her how special she is. This might sound cruel, but it's a recurring trope in urban fantasy I find blatantly manipulative. The Hollows, a series I otherwise adore, is particularly guilty of this sin, with characters continuously telling Rachel Morgan that everything about her is just incredible, from her sex life to her moral code.

Verity firmly defies this trope. Her divided heritage is not particularly unique and gives her an even balance of advantages and disadvantages just like any other Weyrd. In fact the entire book deconstructs the seductive fantasy of 'special'. Whether you are offered the chance to become special, or born that way, more often than not it's a crapshoot. 'Special' can also mean freak, which entails isolation, rejection and sometimes violence.

Before this review goes overboard praising Tall Poppy Syndrome, I will note that I was very uncomfortable with Verity's solution to the 'double-winged' problem. At the very least she was removing choices a person might want in the future. Being different might not always be wise, but it's still a valid choice. (There's a reason 'be yourself' is a powerful message). Granted the alternative was 'apocalypse' but the text shouldn't have tried to pass Verity's actions off as an unambiguously good act. She was doing something horrible to stop something worse and should have acknowledged that.

Other than that, I thoroughly enjoyed Vigil. Slatter's weaving of fantasy with the real-life Brisbane and Gold Coast landscape created a powerful mythology. Despite some occasionally shaky footing, she has crafted a neatly thought-out barb aimed at the heart of the urban fantasy genre. Hopefully it won't go unnoticed and we will get less 'special' protagonists in future.

Also, for fellow-natives, the mysterious Boatman apparently paddles the Brisbane river with the souls
of the dead in his canoe. Try catching the citycat at night and thinking about that.

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."

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."

Daughters of the Storm by Kim Wilkins

So I know I tend to come on here to bitch about books I don't like or am at best indifferent to... but not today! Today I talk about a book that blew me away.

I went in with relatively low expectations. I discovered Kim Wilkins years ago as part of a university course - she was a guest lecturer for the week covering gothic genre. My opinion back then was that she was a great lecturer (from her I learned the term 'brain-explosion') but I wasn't that impressed with The Ressurrectionists. I went on to read others, like Angel of Ruin and Giants of the Frost, but I never came away feeling really satisfied. Clearly there was something good about them because I kept reading them, but there was an odd depressing after-taste I didn't like.

Then I went to the library last week, intent on picking out Australian authors, and found Daughters of the Storm. I don't know whether my tastes have changed, or Wilkins has become more nuanced, but I loved this book.

The premise is that the King of the Thyrsland is dying, and his five daughters set out on a quest to cure him. Each of them hide secrets that could be the doom of their land, and as their quest unfolds, their secrets begin to be revealed. What really makes this book is the absence of any particular good or evil characters. All of them perform terrible actions, but also good ones. There's only a hair's difference between the protagonists and the antagonists, both sides capable of great selfishness and great selflessness. I genuinely didn't know where some of these characters were going, and found myself surprised several times.

The recurring theme is family. All of the characters are keenly aware of who they are connected to and how they fit into the world, whether they resent it or embrace it. Whether connected by marriage, blood or adoption, family is an immensely powerful force. Betrayal of it has terrible consequences, neglect just as terrible; one could argue that none of this would have happened if the eldest daughter Bluebell had put more effort into forging positive relationships within her family, or had at least paid more attention as to what was going on inside it. Then again, all tragedies require a fatal flaw in their lead, and this is in many ways a tragedy.

I really can't go into any more detail than that without giving things away. All I'll say is this; each character is fully realized in their motivation. They didn't bend to the shape of the plot; they shaped the plot, and when the final scene came, you suddenly see the horrible inevitability of what's been building all along. I cannot wait for the sequel.

"Wild happiness, which had veered so close, now fluttered off on its mad wings. Always beyond her fingertips." 

Stormlord Rising by Glenda Larke

Second novels are usually when everything starts coming together, and we start to see the shape of what's to come.Stormlord Rising is the sequel to The Last Stormlord, and second in the Watergivers trilogy.

Here we see Jasper (formerly Shale) begin to be a player in politics instead of the pawn. Taquar tries to control him, but that's a little difficult when his entire position depends on Jasper's existence and he doesn't have anything that he can threaten to bring him in line. That, and Jasper really hates him. For a supposedly brilliant man, Taquar seems to be pretty blind about how to inspire loyalty in others or recognizing when someone hates him more than they fear him.

Even more interesting is Terelle, who makes the journey across the Salt with her great-grandfather toward Khromatis, and in doing so learns some startling facts about the history of Watergivers. That, combined with the tension between Shale and the new Lord Gold indicates that there may be a religious crisis in this world's future, like they didn't have enough going on.

While I'm on the topic, I have to say that I really enjoy Terelle's water-painting powers. It's different from the Watergivers; subtle, nearly invisible to the people around them, but potentially even more devastating than the Storm Lord. Also, there's a lovely visual of her 'shuffling images' within her paintings. She is the character I'm most interested in, and I hope to see more of Khromatis in the next book.

Meanwhile, the Rainlord Ryka has been captured by the Reduners and must make horrible compromises to survive. I'm not usually a fan of the 'captor wants a woman who will stand up to him rather than a submissive slave' trope but in this instance, considering the history and twisted psychology of Ravard, it works. It's also satisfying to see that the book doesn't condemn Ryka for her choices, or romanticize her situation. It makes no bones about the fact that if Ryka slips up, Ravard will kill her.

The final battle felt a little ant-climactic, but that was fine, seeing as everything was clearly being set up for the third book. There's enough mysteries left unsolved and enough confrontations left unfinished that there will be plenty of material to work with. The action was imaginative, using the powers of the Watergivers without forgetting their limits, and the characters all had well-developed motivations and goals. With the possible exception of Senya, who is meant to be spoiled and irritating anyway.

I'd recommend this for teenagers and up. There's violence, particularly in how the Watergivers use their powers in battle, and there's a lot of sex with questionable consent, including but not limited to Ryka and Ravard. It's fairly easy to find in Australian bookstores - I got my copy from a clearance outlet - but it's also available in electronic form from Amazon.com. For physical copies, try the following websites:
* Booktopia
* World of Books (second-hand website)
* AbeBooks (second-hand website)

"For the first time in her life, she was aware of herself as a being of water. For the first time, she felt herself, her connections, her place in the world, her desires."

Born of Empire by Simon Brown

Oh god, I just wasted two hours of my life.

I mean, I know for people who aren't speed readers it would be a few days so I'm lucky it was only two hours, but still I could have done something productive with that time. I could have worked on my novel...learned to crochet...baked a cake...

Anyway, since I already wasted those two hours, I might as well get a review out of it. 

Born of Empire by Simon Brown is awful. Just awful. 

I know I usually find something nice to say, and yes there are one or two good points, but this entire novel was just a mess from start to finish. I only finished reading it because no book has defeated me since Anna Karenina (and oneday I'm going to go back for a re-match and kick that skanky Russian bitch's ass) so no way was I letting this one get the better of me. 

The book's about... to be honest, I don't really remember. There's an empire, and an expedition that goes out to start a new colony, only there's politics and a lot of forgettable people plotting overly complex plots. It's like it was trying to be Game of Thrones, with only the vaguest idea of what Game of Thrones was about and characters so cardboard you really didn't care (or remember) when they died. 

No, seriously I don't remember. I can't name a single character or overarching theme. That's how interesting this book was, and how invested I was.

There was only one plot thread I managed to retain, and to Brown's credit, it was an intriguing concept. Basically the aristocracy can perform blood magic, but in order for it to work, they have to sacrifice something they love. The bigger the sacrifice, the more powerful the magic. So they keep kennels of animals and human slaves that they treat well and form strong relationships with, all so they have a supply of sacrifices on hand. The most interesting parts of the books were from the slaves' and slave-owners' perspectives, and the questions that were asked, like: what is love? If they only love me for a purpose, is that really love? Is the sacrifice worth it and in what circumstances? Honestly, I could have read a whole book focusing entirely on the relationship between the aristocracy and their slaves. 

But instead I got politics. Thanks. I really feel like I invested those two hours of my life wisely. 

On the bright side, I only spent a dollar on it... which probably should have been a warning. Crap. Here's some advice, kids; if the book is only a dollar and it's not at Bookfest, probability says it's not worth reading! Just ignore the quote on the Amazon website from Garth Nix; clearly Simon Brown has something on him, or else he's locked in a basement somewhere ala Misery. 

Born of Empire is a book aimed at adults but should not be read by anyone, unless you're planning to skim over most of the book and just focus on the antics of the nutty aristocracy and their someone-call-a-domestic-abuse-hotline slaves. I am saddened that my love of reading took me down this path, but I recall one of the few good quotes from this book: 

"Maddyn cleared his mind of the thought by reminding himself that all love entailed tragedy and there was no point in struggling against it." - Born of Empire

Song of the Summer King by Jess E. Owen

Xenofiction can be misleading, can't it? To look at the covers of The Dorset Squirrels or Duncton Wood, you'd think they were about fluffy cute rodents and their gosh-darn adorable troubles.

(To give you a hint; not fluffy, not cute, and not adorable by any stretch of the imagination).

However, I'm happy to report that I've found a book about sentient animals you can give to your kid and not worry about those years of therapy. I picked up Song of the Summer King at Supanova, and while dealing with some serious themes, it can be safely enjoyed by young teenagers.

Oh yeah, and it has griffins! Who doesn't love griffins?

The premise is a young griffin named Shard coming of age in his pride. The pride is composed of two elements; the Vanir griffins native to the area and the larger Aesir griffins who took the territory by force a generation earlier. Shard is the only surviving male of pure Vanir blood, making him a figure of interest to pretty much everyone. He has to choose between the ways of the invaders and the ways of his forebears.

Art by Jennifer Miller

This could easily have been a very black-and-white story, but I think Owens has managed some real nuance in how she explores cultural imperialism. While the Aesir did some awful things she takes care to show they are not an inherently evil race. They're just people... or griffins... with the usual mix of good and bad. And Shard has known them his whole life, so his struggle to choose a side feels real and heartfelt. The standout character for me was Shard's nest-father, whose gruff relationship with his mate and adoptive son was surprisingly sweet. In fact, the entire book was respectful of both blood and adoptive families, dismissing neither and giving due weight to both. This is how you handle adoption, peoples.

Outside of Shard's nest-father, however, the characters are kind of two-dimensional. It's not a fatal flaw in a young teenage novel, but this book is definitely not Sabriel, which can be enjoyed by young and old alike. It's like I could see what kind of characters were being portrayed, but their motivations didn't always make sense. They were just doing what they were doing because the plot demanded it.

For example, Shard didn't have any real reason to learn the old ways. He'd already got what he wanted; he'd succeeded at the hunt, was granted the right to stay in the pride, and was best bros with the Crown Prince. No one risks all that to 'make the pride stronger' unless they're already at risk of losing it all anyway.

Art by Jennifer Miller

What might have worked better was if the order of events was switched around. If the hunt had taken place in the middle of the novel instead of the beginning, that would have given Shard a concrete goal to strive for and a damn good reason to break the rules. It's outright stated that he's the skinny runt of his generation so the old ways would be his way of compensating. Ie. 'If I get caught learning the old ways I'll be exiled, but if I fail the hunt, I'll be exiled anyway, so I might as well take the risk'.  

Other than that, I have no complaints. It's clearly meant for young adults, so me and my nitpicking are not the target audience. I'd recommend it to teenagers in the 12-14 range. There's some violence, but it's not explicit, and sex is only vaguely referred to. The animalistic body-language was nice and I'd have liked to see even more of the descriptive language of the landscape. I'm also hoping for a cross-species romance between Shard and the young wolf Catori in the sequels, but that might just be my weirdness talking, not any real possibility of it.

Song of the Summer King can be ordered in paperback from Booktopia or Book Depository, or in electronic form from Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

And if you love the cover art, like I do, check out the artist on her website or Deviant Art. All the art I've used in this post is hers, simply because she does such gorgeous work.

Update on Jupiter: Illusions of Faith

I've just realised (nearly three weeks later - my bad!) that I never mentioned what came of my review on Jupiter:Illusions of Faith by Kynan Waterford. Hold onto your seat, because it's totally exciting.

Everyone holding on? Brace yourselves...

Kynan Waterford contacted me!

(crickets chirping)

Shut up, it's totally exciting. He explained one of the aspects of the novel that bugged me. If you've read the review, you'll know that I had a teeny-tiny baby bitchfest about Garen and Leisa's relationship. Mostly about how the love-at-first-sight thing was not an adequate explanation for Garen's sudden outburst of human emotion, etc, etc. (Yes, I have a thing against romance; you know this about me already) Kynan explained the sudden change in Garen.

If you haven't read the novel, please note there are *SPOILERS* below. Read ahead at your peril.  

Apparently the reason for Garen's sudden attraction to Leisa was less about her and more about the fact he was no longer accompanied by his heavangel Kari, who was the one responsible for blocking his emotions all this time. No Kari = Garen acting like an actual person. Seeing as Garen had been whining about Kari's absence during the entire novel, and Kari had a good old-fashioned 'I have you now my pretty' speech at the end, I was somewhat mortified to have this pointed out to me. Usually I'm the person who sees things coming three plot points away!

Here is the passage from what Kynan told me:

"Until he is captured, Garen is almost always in the presence of his heavangel mentor, Kari, who has been 'saving' Garen from his emotions (or stealing them, depending on your viewpoint). This allows him to do the nasty things he does and keeps him from being distracted from his mission. However, when he inserts Kari into the Golgotha's communication network (before he is captured), he is separated from his heavangel mentor for the first time in a long time. This means Kari is not around to prevent Garen from feeling emotion, and hence, why an otherwise fairly tame encounter with Leisa, someone he becomes interested in, has such a profound effect on him."

So there it is. Definitive proof that even someone as awesome as me can get things wrong. It's hard to believe, I know, but there it is.

(And many thanks to my lovely housemate Ian who was nice enough to proof-read this post for me and caught several embarrassing spelling mistakes.)

Circle of Fire by Keri Arthur

It occurs to me that I've been doing a lot of high fantasy on this blog, but nothing in the way of urban fantasy, which is just a crying shame because there are some damn good paranormal authors out there.

The book I'm reviewing today is Circle of Fire, which is the first novel in the Damask Circle trilogy and involves a woman with psychic abilities trying to save missing children from a supernatural threat. While not the best urban fantasy I've ever read - that honor goes to Kim Harrison's Hollows series - it does have its own light charm. 

The story is fairly interesting, involving kidnappings and dark rituals, but is unfortunately overshadowed by the less-than-compelling sexual tension between the two main characters. Note that this might be due to my own bias, as I can't stand 'true love' that happens over a course of twenty-four hours and a single sexual encounter where one of the participants was drugged...

....and I just made it sound a whole lot worse than it really is. Okay, backing up. 

The supernatural elements are the best part of the book, as the main character Madeline steps deeper into a world she's only been peripherally aware of. There's just enough hints to give us a taste of what's to come, while leaving plenty of fodder for the next book. 

As a character Madeline is a bit of a doormat, but considering her background you can understand why. Not only does she have a power she can't control, she's the survivor of an abusive relationship, is estranged from her family, and the suspect in a murder. And all of this is prior to the events in the book. Fortunately the plot is about her growing out of her shell and fixing back together her shattered self-confidence, so things do get better for her. 

The main male character Jon was a rather generic love interest as supernatural novels go: mysterious, brooding alpha male with hint of danger. As a lot of the tension in the book centered around his interactions with Madeline, that's probably part of why I wasn't overly invested in the romance. If I don't care for one of the characters, I can't care about the relationship. The one thing I can say for him is that he treats Madeline with respect, which is something a lot of love interests in paranormal novels struggle with (I'm looking at you, Edward). 

To sum it up, I've read a lot worse urban fantasy - do not get me started on Stray - and at least the characters were attempting to act with consistent logic. The action starts slow, but picks up speed around the halfway point (noting that that isn't a particularly long book in the first place). So long as you don't take it too seriously it'll do you no lasting harm. 

Which, in all honesty, is pretty good advice concerning most urban fantasy.

Circle of Fire can be ordered in digital form on Amazon, and in phyiscal form on Booktopia and Book Depository. Otherwise, Keri Arthur is fairly popular at the moment so just check the paranormal section at your local bookstore. 

Myrren's Gift by Fiona McIntosh

You know how you can hear good things about an author, then read one of their books and find it totally ordinary? That was my crushingly disappointing experience of Royal Exile by Fiona MciIntosh. I really wasn't looking forward to reading her other work, but I'd promised myself I'd give her another chance, so I finally bit the bullet and bought a copy of Myrren's Gift.

And boy am I glad I did! Myrren's Gift managed to surprise me, and that barely ever happens anymore. 

The premise is that a witch bestows a gift upon the honourable but unfavoured companion to the Prince, and this gift will later come into play during the deadly political struggle for the throne. The very nature of the gift - and no, I'm not telling because that would spoil the plot - is brilliantly simple, working consistently but throwing a monkey wrench into the standard high fantasy story. You almost feel bad for the antagonists who can sense something is off but never manage to put their finger on the true problem. And fair enough; why should they? I'm the mostly-omniscient reader and it still threw me for a loop. 

The setting is usual medieval fare but who cares. The plot is so interesting that I barely even noticed. The characters are both engaging and sympathetic, even characters like the king who perform ethically questionable actions for political expediency. The main character Wyl has the potential to be extremely dull, but his steadiness is actually the perfect offset to the insanity of his situation. Anyone else would have gone mad, but he manages to be as clear-headed and logical about it as it's possible to be. The tragic aspect of it is that in any other story he'd be the loyal background second-in-command and content with that, but is forced to assume a position of resistance.

I'd like to talk about the character Romen, but it's difficult to do so without spoiling anything. Suffice to say, the connection between him and Wyl is powerful, compelling, unexpectedly tragic, and extraordinarily original.  This is the kind of imagination I like to see in my speculative fiction and barely ever find. I won't mention other characters, because Mcintosh has a way of developing apparently one-shot characters into ongoing ones, and taking out others that you'd swear were in for the long haul.

I highly recommend Myrren's Gift. I enjoyed it so much I'm having second thoughts about not reading the sequel to Royal Exile. That is how good this book is. 

Jupiter: Illusions of Faith by Kynan Waterford

First off, let me say this off my chest: Supanova is awesome.

I went last weekend not really expecting it to be very good (the last few years were pretty dull) and ended up doing half my Christmas shopping and picking up a tonne of indie books from local authors. I don't know whether my tastes have changed or there was a different crew this time, but this year Supanova got fun again.

Therefore it looks like I'm going to be reviewing a bunch of indie books over the next few weeks. I'll get started right now with Jupiter:Illusions of Faith by Kynan Waterford.

This is the first book of the System series, which apparently will have nine books, each one based around a different planet in our solar system. Each book will work as a stand-alone, so you won't need to read the whole series to understand what's going on.

On Jupiter, energy is harvested using a process that is claimed to be deadly to the world's native inhabitants. The problem is that no one can agree if the inhabitants are real or a hallucination. The main character, Garen, has dedicated his life to the fervent belief that they are real. During an escape from custody, a fleeting encounter with a third-class woman Leisa will change both their lives - and his mission - forever.

This is hard-core science fiction, which I don't usually get into, but I actually quite enjoyed this book. It was fast-paced, the tech talk was just enough to get across the information I needed without bogging down the text, and the characters faced genuinely difficult decisions and conflicts. One of the big questions posed is whether Garen is a freedom-fighter or a terrorist. You could argue both ways, and the answer for me probably lies somewhere in the middle. It makes him a compelling character to read because you're never quite sure about him.

Leisa, the other main point-of-view character, holds up her end of the narration extremely well. I think I connected better with her because she wasn't obsessed with the cause like Garen. She was just an ordinary person trying to survive the crap getting thrown her way. Her storyline also centered around all these ideas of agency and identity, which came with a good strong dose of body horror. Be warned; this book borders on gruesome at times, and other times waltzes across said border into outright nightmare fuel. (That's not a criticism, btw).

I did have an issue with Garen and Leisa's relationship, which was a shame because the plot hinges on it. The way I understood it, Garen's difficulty connecting with people is a physical problem due to... spoilery stuff. It's not that he won't, or isn't used to it, or is suppressing something; he physically cannot make that chemical leap in his neurons that makes love happen. And yet half an hour with Leisa is enough to overcome it. Don't get me wrong, I liked both characters. They were smart and decisive, and did what they had to in order to survive. I just needed a bit more explanation as to why she could have this effect on him and no one else.

Other than that, this was a good read; an exciting action-adventure story with romance, imaginative futuristic technology and some challenging questions at the core. Definitely a good choice for the first indie book from the pile on my floor.

It can be found at Amazon.com in electronic form, or hard copies ordered from the author's website.

Clariel by Garth Nix

I'm finally going to review Clariel by Garth Nix. I actually wanted to review this two weeks ago when my copy (signed by Garth Nix!) arrived in the mail. I finished it all in one sitting and had all these thoughts running around my head, but I needed to let them all settle first.

Clariel is a prequel set very far in the past of Sabriel's world. Clariel, granddaughter to the Abhorsen and cousin to the king, is brought by her parents to the city Belisaere. Once there, she finds herself the unwilling center of a conspiracy to usurp the monarchy.

I'll say this straight up. Before I read this, I was concerned that this would be a retread of Sabriel or Lirael.

It's not. It's really not.

There are definitely similarities to the other books, but only enough to give you that familiar taste while building a completely different situation. Like Lirael, it could be seen as a variation on Sabriel's journey, but where Lirael asks 'what if I have a dream that I might not be capable of fulfilling?' this one asks 'what if I am prevented from fulfilling my dream?' It's a biting rejoinder against every call to adventure that summoned unwilling farm boys away from home.

The main character Clariel shares some characteristics with the characters Sabriel and Lirael. All are teenage girls with very strong ideas about who they want to be. They all have remarkably good sense for teen heroines - when confronted with a charming young assassin, Clariel doesn't upgrade him to love interest, finding his overtures genuinely threatening - and none of them are afraid to go after what they want. However, there's a restrained anger and frustration within Clariel that was lacking in her cohorts, swirling dangerously beneath the surface. While Sabriel tended to be very collected under pressure and Lirael relied more on guile and stealth, Clariel really just wants to break a chair and beat her enemies' heads in with it.

On my second read-through, I was actually kind wishing she'd gone and done it. Because this time I knew what was coming, and I could see how literally everyone else in the book had contributed to create an impossible situation. I won't spoil the ending, but like the best tragedies, there were so many moments that could have avoided an awful outcome. On the surface, it's a relatively happy ending but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the undead didn't lose. They just suffered a setback, and arguably achieved something more than worth the inconvenience. And all it would have taken was just one person had listening to Clariel instead of focusing on their own goals.

The cultural building was interesting, because you get to see a relatively prosperous era in the Old Kingdom, prior to the crapsack world of Sabriel's time. The character Clariel, as a newcomer, offered great insight into the idiosyncrasies of the culture and people. I liked as well that her resistance wasn't her offering up a token protest at being forced to do girlish things; she was genuinely uncomfortable, and every attempt to force her to fit in grated like a square peg being forced into a round hole.

All up, Clariel is a great contribution to the Sabriel world. It wasn't what I was expecting, but it's exactly what I needed. I ordered my copy from Booktopia (see link above), but it's also available at most bookstores in the teen section, online from Book Depository, and can be ordered electronically from Amazon,