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.

Spin Out - movie review

It's not fantasy - at least no more than your standard romantic comedy :-) - but here is my review of

the recent Aussie release Spin Out. 

http://www.thereelword.net/spin-out-movie-review/

Silver Brumby by Elyne Mitchell

I just had a revelation. Specifically, about The Silver Brumby books that were a childhood obsession of mine. (And an adulthood obsession, going by my Ebay history.)

They were written between 1958 and 1979 by Elyne Mitchell, who was frustrated by her ten year old daughter's lack of interest in books. Taking inspiration from her daughter's interest in horses and her own love of the native landscape, she wrote a series of short novels around a lineage of wild horses in the Snowy Mountains.

The initial book follows the birth and early life of Thowra, a rare wild "creamy" brumby whose colouring is a disadvantage in the bush. He has to be smarter and faster than any other horse to survive and remain free. The sequels follow his descendants and later adventures.

These were some of the earliest Australian literature to really strike a cord with me, for reasons I struggled to articulate. It wasn't the narrative, as the plots were either simplistic or meandering. Nor was it the characters, as there's a limit to what you can do with non-anthropomorphic animal characters.

Then on the weekend while I was driving, thinking about nothing in particular, it suddenly hit me. The Silvery Brumby books aren't about the characters. Sure, the characters are there, but they're not the focus. The real soul and center of the books is the landscape. Or more specifically, the characters' relationship with the landscape.

For them the mountains are an enemy that can kill with flood, fire, starvation and a hundred other awful ways. But they are also a wondrous home, offering beauty, shelter and freedom. The flowing prose is almost worshipful, detailing sunsets, bird cries, and storms with almost poetic terms. The reader exists within the characters' reaction in a place where goals and motivations are almost superfluous. Everything is at the mercy of the world around them.

These aren't perfect books by any means. My housemate called Thowra a Mary Sue for entirely justified reasons and the female characters exist mostly as objectives to be obtained (based on real life horse behaviour). Not to mention, the series is very inconsistent on whether the horses can actually 'talk' with one another or not.

However it's one of those rare instances where the flaws are part of the magic. Like the mountains, their imperfection is what makes the books beautiful.

"Through the bush he went, a proud-stepping beautiful stallion, in the prime of his life, cream and silver, dappled by light and shade as pale shafts of sunlight from the cloudy sky fell on to him through the grey-green gum leaves." 

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."

The Sea and Summer by George Turner

One of the things I love about this blog project is that I keep discovering all these obscure, wonderful Aussie writers that have been forgotten or overlooked by the mainstream.

George Turner's The Sea and Summer (published in the US as The Drowning Towers) is a perfect example. This novel centers around a family during a time of social turmoil and uses this very personal setting to explore the consequences of climate change. It's a fascinatingly melancholy tale that richly deserves it's status of science fiction classic, and yet I'd never heard of it before now.

Despite being written by the seventies by a successful mainstream novelist and being one of the few Australian-written books on Gollancz's SF Masterworks, it seems almost unknown by my generation. Considering that I did a creative writing degree at an Australian university and all my friends are book-nerds or librarians, I'm bewildered that I haven't even heard of it before. Not even a passing mention
                                                            or a website review.

What I enjoyed about The Sea and Summer was the lack of an antagonist. Most dystopian books are stories of resistance, of little people against oppressive regimes like 1984 or the Hunger Games. For them there are terrible external enemies that must be vanquished for the world to right itself. 

But for George Turner's characters, the enemy is far more subtle than that. It comes from within. The family's downfall from 'Sweet' (financially self-sufficient) to 'Swill' (living on government subsidies) begins with the loss of the father's job. And as the burdens of poverty and social class press in on them, the entire family makes choices on how to deal with it; some selfish, some tragic. 

In a way their family is a metaphor for modern attitudes to environmental and economic disaster. That sense of "this problem's too big, I can't fix it, I can only save myself". That sense of abdicated responsibility as they make their own individual grabs for solvency. Yet - and this is very important - none of the family ever manage to escape the Swill. They each pay dearly for an illusion of freedom, but they all end up in the Swill one way or another. The problem is too big to be escaped, as is the inevitable creeping cultural shift. The only way to survive it (not stop it, there's no stopping what's been put into motion) is together.

It's the most oddly depressing and yet hopeful book I've ever read, with a pensive attitude towards climate change. It matter-of-factly dismisses the notion of  the end of the world, pointing out humanity's ability to adapt to much worse disasters with far less technology. But it also is very clear that adaptation will come with painful, difficult change. We don't get away without consequences.

Perhaps the subject matter is why this book isn't well known. With climate change and economic strife in the news, the last thing that readers want is reality tainting their escapism. Which is a shame, because of all the books on the subject, this is probably the most realistic and least hysterical. 

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.

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.

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.

WTF...

Someone added Down Under by Tam Ames to my Goodreads list of Australian Science Fiction.

It looks like a gay love story in futuristic dystopian Australia involving a road trip with a man who shape-shifts into a kangaroo. This is either a hilarious satire of urban fantasy or stone-cold serious, which will also be hilarious.

I'm guiltily intrigued. I must read this. Because he shapes-shifts into a kangaroo.

I mean, most people would go straight for dingo or crocodile. You know, the traditionally dangerous Australian animal.

...though red kangaroos are freaking scary. Have you ever been up close to one? They are massive and built of this ropy muscle with clawed hindlegs for disembowelling, and if it's hit by a car, the car loses...

On second thought. Kangaroo shapeshifter. Good choice.

Outland - TV series

Late to the party, as per usual. Why did this show not get more coverage? Australian comedy involving science fiction and alternate sexuality...without making fun of either! Do you know how rare this is?!

*Sigh* Oh well, I guess I'll just have to go find a copy elsewhere.

https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2012/february/1328832697/benjamin-law/outland-kevin-carlin

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.

Shifting Reality by Patty Jensen

Shifting Reality was a surprise for me. I downloaded some samples from Amazon and was flicking through them when I was abruptly hooked by Patty Jansen.

The story bolts out of the gate right from the first word. No waffling, no info dumps, the technology neatly outlined within a few paragraphs. Within the first chapter, the world has already taken shape along with the character's place within it. You know her priorities, the pressures she's under and her relationships with other people. Better yet, you care.

It's the kind of opening I love. That feeling like you've just harpooned a whale and forgotten the rope wrapped around your leg. That feeling of 'I guess I have no choice now, I'm following this through to the end'.

Melati is a teacher within the New Jakarta space station, assigned to oversee fast-grown clone soldiers. When one of her charges makes an incredible claim, she must solve a mystery of identity theft and murder against a background of war. She's hampered by class clashes between decks and two cultures that would both like her to shut up and stop pointing out the obvious.

Melati is a brilliant protagonist. She has a sharp moral compass that won't allow her to overlook wrongdoing, but she's not standing on any soapboxes. She lives in a morally gray world and accepts it. The times she speaks up or intervenes she is completely within reason to do so, such her uncle knowingly serving human traffickers at his restaurant despite Melati being a former victim of theirs. Which makes it all the more frustrating when people tell her she's overreacting.

In a way, she's like Steve Rogers if he was female, dark-skinned and Muslim. Stripped of the privileges of Roger's gender, race and religion, Melati makes similar refusals to back down from what she knows is right, but the world isn't half as prepared to listen. And she doesn't have the option of punching anyone in the face.

The twists and turns of the story can occasionally be difficult to follow, but for the most part is clear. My only real criticism is that the antagonist/s (?) comes out of nowhere. There is some set up, but it doesn't make for a particularly satisfying pay-off. However it's implied that this will be explored further in the sequel, so I'm happy.

Shifting Reality is accessible, well-written science fiction that balances fantastic flights of imagination with real-world issues. The characters are human and relateable, even when their actions are silly or distasteful, and the plot will suck you in from the word 'go'. Whether you like a good mystery or a good sci-fi, this is the book for you.

"Words, words, words. No one ever did anything. They just made promises." 

Movie Review - Undead

Here's a link to another movie review I wrote recently (this time within the correct genre for this blog! Yay!)

I will never get tired of this film. If you like low budget zombie films and the uniquely Aussie sense of humor, Undead is for you.

http://www.thereelword.net/hidden-gem-undead-2003/

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."

The Alien Says Don't Take Your Meds by Tansy Raynor Roberts

http://uncannymagazine.com/article/the-alien-says-dont-take-your-meds-neurodiversity-and-mental-health-treatment-in-tv-sff/

I love this article. It articulates an issue I've been peripherally aware of, but couldn't quite put my finger on. The metaphor of magical people (generally women) being diagnosed as crazy and locked away is relevant metaphor, because sadly that did happen back in the day when someone was an embarrassment or inconvenience.

However these days when attitudes to mental health issues are so different, we need to have more than one kind of interpretation - particularly when the above metaphor implicitly implies that these issues don't exist. Frankly it's dangerous for kids that absorb this idea and disrespectful for the people who live with these issues day in and out. Few things enrage me as much as seeing the 'powerful' moment onscreen when a character throws away their medication, like Erik Selvig in Thor 2. (In all seriousness, it can be dangerous to stop flat without a 'weaning off' period, particularly in regards to medication for anxiety or depression).

I'm not saying the supernatural can't be an interesting story-telling device (otherwise I wouldn't be working on this blog!), just that there's on over-abundance of the supernatural-diagnosed-as-crazy metaphor. Try something new. The British Being Human series is a perfect example, where vampirism is a metaphor for addiction, the werewolf faces the same issues as a person with HIV, and the ghost behaves like an agrophobic just coming out of an abusive relationship. It doesn't always work perfectly (I can see where critics of Mitchell's third season storyline are coming from) but it delves into the very human question of how you move forward after a horrific, life-changing event.

I love Tansy Raynor Roberts for her Mocklore and Creature Court series, but this is the first I've seen of her work that isn't straight-out fiction. I think I'll find out what else she's written...

Movie Review - The Jammed

For those of you interested (who am I kidding, you're not) I also do movie reviews and other articles on the website The Reel Word.

Here's my review of The Jammed, a grim little film about the Australian human trafficking industry. No fantasy or escapism here, I'm afraid.

http://www.thereelword.net/hidden-gem-the-jammed/

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."

Short Story Recommendations

And just for something different, here are some short stories. Both are available free online (links below) and are set in Australia.

Reading Coffee by Anthony Panegyres - Mixes history with superstition. A young girl with the ability to foresee death watches events unfold in Kalgoorlie 1916 (anyone who knows much about Australian history may already be spoiled).

Brisneyland by Night by Angela Slatter. Urban fantasy set in Brisbane! A half-breed Weyrd investigates the disappearance of children.