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. 

Racial Relations in the Axis Trilogy, or The Death of my Teenage Nostalgia

I love nostalgia as much as the next girl. It's one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place; there are so many good books from my teenage years that aren't getting enough exposure. But looking back at my old favourites, it's inevitable that I'd find flaws that I didn't see the first time round.

Most recently, I was trying to write a review for Enchanter, the second book in the Axis Trilogy, which delves heavily into the world's fictional races and their interactions. But on flicking through the book, I was confronted with troubling racial overtones that had completely flown over my head as a teenager. I couldn't continue until I'd explained what I'd found and why it was so disturbing. Consider this a form of catharsis so I can go back and finish my review.

*Please note that there will be SPOILERS below, so skip if you want to remain unspoiled for the Axis and Wayfarer trilogies*

To give some context, there are three major races in Tencendor; the Avar, whose mysterious origins are never revealed, and the Icarii and Acharites who share a common ancestor. Each are ethnically distinct with their own customs and culture. The Acharites are unequivocally the worst sinners regarding racial injustice, having attempted genocide and driven their neighbours out of Tencendor. However, the Icarii and Avar are not completely innocent either, with the Icarii in particular having some troubled views on inter-racial unions.

Icarii and Acharite pairings are not common but not outright forbidden. Rivkah and Stardrifter's marriage caused "more than a few raised eyebrows" but was accepted.It's difficult to say if mixed parentage is usually cause for shame among Icarri, as although characters like Azhure and Axis never have to deal with any stigma for it, they occupy such exalted positions in Icarri society that it's unlikely anyone would be brave enough to say it to their faces.

Fanart of an Icarii by Illirik

More illuminating is the Icarii belief that "in every case of mixed parentage, the Icarii blood has proven the stronger". While StarDrifter speaks approvingly of the "vitality" of human blood, Icarii also believe that it must lie in "subjection" to Icarii blood and that all mixed heritage children will have purely Icarii characteristics. This has unfortunate similarities to the one-drop rule that was once prominent in the US, wherein the degree of mixed ancestry determined a person's racial classification regardless of how they identified themselves or what community they partook in.

Even worse is StarDrifter's casual admission that "in ages past Icarii birdmen simply took the babies of Human-Icarii unions and never spared a thought for the women they bedded". If you know anything about Australian history, this has extremely uncomfortable parallels with the Stolen Generations, wherein half-caste Aboriginal children were stolen from their mothers and raised 'white'. This wasn't a pleasant realisation for me; suddenly Azhure's anxiety about Caelum being taken from her was less an attempt to inject unnecessary drama and more a horrifically real-world fear.

However, I will admit that the narrative does not support this particular reading. Even Axis, who is a thoroughly unlikable person, condemns the practice of stealing children, and you know if even Axis is against it, it must be vile. The Icarii belief in dominant blood is played straight during the Axis trilogy, but is arguably subverted in the Wayfarer Redemption, where tapping into their Acharite heritage is the key to salvation.

What is truly impossible to overlook is how the narrative treats Gorgrael and Avar-Icarii unions.

Ironically, although the Avar are close allies to the Icarii (much closer than the Acharites) unions between them are completely taboo. There are no marriages and sexual encounters are only permitted on a specific religious holiday "when both people relaxed sufficiently to carry interracial relations to extremes never practised throughout the rest of the year". The one positive Avar-Icarii union we ever see is between Shra and Isfrael, whom Zenith muses had changed so much "it was as if his Sunsoar link was gone".

Children of these unions are explicitly prohibited, under the belief that they would be "abomination". Gorgrael's mother actually left her people because she "would not have been allowed" to carry her child to term. And the narrative supports this view because sure enough when Gorgrael is... born (don't ask, just don't) the naysayers are proven completely correct. He's hideous and irredeemably evil.

Fanart of Gorgrael from MissWiggle 

To make this even more explicit, an Avar man called Brode has an epiphany that Gorgrael's evil is due to his Avar heritage. Not because he was raised by monsters in the wilderness, or he wanted revenge for his rejection, or he was brainwashed by Wolfstar, the one supportive humanoid presence in his life. None of these valid and justifiable reasons. Gorgrael was evil because the Avar are inherently violent. Here is the passage:

"The Avar were people of innate violence...His Icarii blood may have given him the means to access the power to achieve his ends, but it was his Avar blood that had created the need to destroy in the first place."

The implication being that the only reason that the Avar aren't a race of sadistic, blood-thirsty murderers is because they don't have the means to do so. Apparently if they could get their hands on real power like the Icarii, they'd be the same monsters that the Acharites always accused them of being. This is pretty awful in and of itself, but if you take into consideration the other characteristics of the Avar like their connection to nature and ambiguously brown appearance (being described as "dark" or having "smooth olive skin" in contrast to the Icarii's "fine pale skin") it gets exponentially worse. It's very easy to read them as an expy of real Indigenous people, which makes these implications all the more disturbing.

I certainly don't believe this was intentional on Sara Douglass' part. If she were still around today, she'd probably be horrified and insulted if I implied as much. However, the text leaves itself open to a very uncomfortable interpretation, which I'd have liked to see subverted the same way the Icarii superiority was in the Wayfarer Redemption. If nothing else, I suppose it's a lesson on how carefully you have to watch what you're writing and what could be taken away from it.

Hopefully now that I've gotten this written down, I can go back and finish that review for Enchanter without these uncomfortable ideas hanging over my head. And maybe put some flowers on the tombstone of my teenage nostalgia because that's not going to be coming back any time soon.

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.

Battleaxe by Sara Douglas

Battleaxe is the first book of Sara Douglas' Axis trilogy. It also is - or was - a brilliant innovation in high fantasy.

Prior to this book, my experience of the swords and sorcery genre was very black and white; David Eddings, Robert Jordon, Tolkien. They were all innovative in their own ways, but otherwise stayed true to a certain formula. A great evil looms, idealistic innocent rises to the challenge, and princesses are in need of saving and/or marrying.

In Battleaxe, the characters certainly start off believing they are in this kind of story. Axis, the unacknowledged prince, is charged with escorting his hated half-brother's fiance to her wedding, while rumors spread of the return of the horrifying Forbidden. Very quickly though, appearances prove deceptive. Axis is no innocent idealist but an arrogant, ambitious jerk. The fair maiden, Faraday, cannot avoid disaster by marrying the right man, but the wrong one. The Forbidden turn out to be very different from myth and harboring a very legitimate grudge against humankind.

These types of twists are a dime a dozen nowadays, but back then - at least to me - it was a game changer. The hero doesn't have to be a good guy, grand quests don't always turn out how you want them to, and authority figures that are supposedly good and trustworthy can be lying through their teeth. Add in a sensual immediacy and a dash of gruesome horror, and you have Sara Douglas at her finest.

Battleaxe is definitely for older teens and above. I'm not exaggerating the horror aspect; there's some fairly disturbing violence in this book. The protagonists' extremely questionable morality might also be difficult for children to deal with; adultery and fratricide are discussed in a positive light, while a good deal of the plot revolves around religious and racial genocide.

However, it contains some of the most imaginative world-building I've ever encountered, with the most interesting racial tensions since Legolas and Gimli started sniping at one another. The characters' moral gray makes for intriguing reading, and even when the antagonists slip into two-dimensional villainy, there's a tragically pathetic edge to them that keeps them sympathetic.

Battleaxe can be found on Booktopia, Amazon.com, Book Depository, and just about any bookstore in Australia.

Self-published Australian fiction you should be reading

With the past decade and advent of Amazon, self-published books have become more widely available. There is some stigma attached to them, and not without reason. Self-published books don't have the same checks as those that go through publishing firms, and so tend to have more mistakes and problems.

However there are some pretty decent ones out there, available for fairly reasonable prices. Here are the some of those I've found deep-diving through the depths of Amazon and Booktopia: 

1. The Silence of Medair (High Fantasy)

This is a goodie. The titular character was sent to retrieve an artifact that could save her kingdom from invaders. However, in retrieving the artifact, she goes to sleep and awakens hundreds of years later to find the invaders succeeded and her world irretrievably altered. It's an interesting premise and unfolds in a way that offers no easy answers. Be warned though; it ends on something of a cliff-hanger and has a sequel. 

For a story on why the author chose to self-publish, see here; it's pretty daunting for anyone looking to break into the industry. 

2. Contest (Science Fiction)

This book is proof that self-publishers can break into the market; it's actually how Matthew Reilly was discovered. It's more science-fiction-y than what I usually recommend, but makes for a great action-adventure thriller. 

The premise is that the main character has been chosen to represent Earth in a fight to the death competition against representatives from seven other worlds. It's a little rough in place, but still an exciting, fast-paced read. 

3. Through the Whirlpool  (High Fantasy)

This one is a cross-dimensional adventure with two characters from very different worlds. It's a relatively recent arrival in self-publishing that needs some more love. It's up on Amazon.com and I can't seem to find it anywhere else. 

Be warned that the sequel is a lot more expensive than the first book, so be wary of starting this one unless you don't mind paying more to see how it ends. 

4. Wisdom Beyond Her Years (Science Fiction, Romance)

This one isn't high literature (not that any on this list are!) but is a very fun lesbian love story set 200 years in the future in a world of efficiency and rigid class structure. Has lots of action and is a little bit kinky, so probably avoid if bondage isn't your thing. 

The setting is futuristic Sydney and has fascinating world-building. 

Out of interest the author has a Youtube tutorial on self-publishing. 

5. Dark Shadows (Paranormal Romance)

This is a vampire paranormal romance, so if you're into that sort of genre this is definitely your book. Not for children, and has been compared favorably to Twilight (as I hated Twilight myself, this doesn't say much). 

Personally I prefer urban fantasy to paranormal romance (the difference being that the romance is a sideline rather than the focus) but people that do like it have loved this book. 

As with any book, it all depends on what you're into. 

So there you have it. Five self-published books by Australian authors that are worth reading. But don't take my word for it, go investigate companies like Vivid and Indimosh. There's plenty of talent out there; it's just a question of finding it. 

Black Spring by Alison Croggon

So I'm psychic apparently.

Not long ago I said that Picnic at Hanging Rock was the Australian Wuthering Heights. (I still stand by that statement, FYI). Then last week I picked up a book Black Spring by Alison Croggon, a book that I knew nothing about, other than it was by an Aussie author and had a vaguely interesting premise about a girl born with 'witch eyes' and all the tragic shenanigans that ensue. 

Not my usual thing, but the cover was creepy and cool-looking (check it out - it looks like something out of a Japanese horror movie!)

I started reading and was struck by an incredible sense of familiarity, as if I'd read this before. Then about two chapters in, it struck me - this was the beginning of Wuthering Heights! Sure the world itself was different, with fantasy elements like magic and wizards, but it had exactly the same introduction of a high born twit wandering into a dark gothic tale and being both repulsed and intrigued by everything going on. 

What I didn't find out until later was that the book was a homage to Wuthering Heights. The author outright says so in interviews. Which, I guess is not a bad thing in and of itself. It's out of copyright so it's public property and for better or worse there are a lot of sequels to classics out there, some actually very good.

The problem is that Black Spring isn't one of them.  

Don't get me wrong; there are good points. Like better sequels or re-tellings, Black Spring at least attempts to explore a fresh angle on the original material. Lina is a surprisingly sympathetic reinterpretation of Catherine, suggesting that her self-destructiveness is caused by the smothering oppression of her society rather than an inherently infantile nature. It's even daring enough to hint that her love for the Heathcliffe stand-in was more familial than romantic. 

However, the book is dragged down by being chained to the Wuthering Heights plot, wearily re-treading the same events even when they contradict established character traits or at the expense of potentially far more interesting developments. Take for example the idea of the Vendetta. Croggan goes to a lot of trouble to set this up and hints that it's going to be hugely important but in the end it just sort of... peters out. That Chekhov's gun was loaded and left in the open, and no one picked it up. 

I think if the author had allowed herself a little more freedom, paring down on what she used from the original novel and expanding on the new material she introduced, it could have been quite good. As it is, I can't recommend it. 

I'd advise saving your money and reading Wuthering Heights again.

Event - Matthew Reilly signing in WA

And just because I feel bad because the last post wasn't strictly within my guidelines about this site, here is another bit of news:

Matthew Reilley's going to be in Perth on the 13-14th of November, presenting his new book that looks a lot like a cross between Jurassic Park and Dragonriders of Pern. (Note I could be totally wrong; this is just my guess from the cover and description).

Won't lie; this sounds pretty awesome.

Details are here.