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." 

Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier

So are we still putting women on pedestals now?

I really thought we were past the Madonna/Whore complex, but apparently not. According to Daughter of the Forest, the perfect woman is... well, perfect. She never makes a mistake, never says the wrong thing, she's an accomplished healer by twelve years old, always obeys her moral code to the letter, and suffers in silent martyrdom for the good of her brothers/husband.

And the really, really annoying this is that otherwise, this was a very good book. It was a lovely adaptation of the fairy-tale 'The Seven Swans' with a dreamy sort of mood that conjured up misty, romantic images of pre-Christian Britain. (or possibly Ireland - I was a little unclear on where it was set). The main character, Sorcha, has seven brothers who are cursed by their stepmother to become wild swans and Sorcha must complete a long, painful task to free them. If Sorcha hadn't been so damn perfect, it would have been one of the best books I'd ever read.

In case you're thinking I'm being too hard on Sorcha, think back on all the other books you've read. The most compelling characters were the ones like FitzChivalry of the Farseer Trilogy, who reacted to his social shunning with surliness and anger, and caused as many of his own problems as he solved. Or, if we're going with Australian fantasy, the ones like Axis from Battleaxe, who was an absolute prick but got the job done, usually in a way that ended with bodies on the ground.

In comparison, Sorcha is just boring. She's porridge while Fitz is a rich tender steak and Axis is a spicy curry. And she could have been so very interesting with just a little bit of tweaking. Her brothers all adore her? Okay, make her a little spoiled. She's a prodigy healer? Fine, give her a bit of an ego. Or if she has to have that romance with the foreign leader, then make her kind of a bigot - everyone else is, so it's not like she'll stand out. Otherwise we're just watching someone go through a series of trials from which she learns absolutely nothing because she was perfect to begin with.

Unfortunately, this book was still good enough that I've already read one of the sequels, which has exactly the same problem so I can't excuse it as the author having an off book. Damn her. I'm so confused; I don't know whether to enjoy her books or be furiously annoyed by them. This must be what people who like Twilight feel like.

"I had once told Simon he could make his tale end any way he liked. But this was not strictly true. I set my path straight ahead; but there were others that influenced its course, that diverted and changed and confused it."

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."

The Last T'en by Cory Daniells

I've finally forced myself to start digging into the Bookfest pile next to my bed. Bookfest is a great place to find series that are no longer as popular as they used to be but it's a bit like fossicking for gold (see what I did there?). You can get some real stinkers and some real gems.

The Last T'en is somewhere in between.

I don't like to say 'meh' because that implies the book was bad, and it wasn't. It was just average. It's one of Cory Daniells early series, so as a starting place for a new author it was pretty good. It was easy to read, had some interesting world-building, and presented thorny obstacles for the characters.

The premise is that the cultured island of the T'en has been conquered by General Tulkhan of the brutal Ghebites. The last surviving member of the royal family, Imoshen, must use every tool at her disposal to preserve her people's way of life. She will bind the General to her or die trying.

To be clear; this was a romance. Which means there was a lot of the characters going back and forth on how wildly attractive they found each other, but how inappropriate that attraction was. So if that's your thing you'll enjoy this, but if it's not you won't. For a romance novel, it was positively thoughtful, breaking down the political situation with a surprisingly heard-headed female protagonist who has no issue manipulating the male for survival or political gain. It was no Game of Thrones, but it didn't embarrass itself either.

However, if it's going to be judged as a romance, I have one major criticism. It came dangerously close to having the female protagonist raped by the male, not once, but twice. One of these instances was somewhat justified by him coming from a patriarchal culture in which that behavior was the norm and represented the ultimate gap between their ideologies. One could even say it was inevitable; the brutally logical outcome of these two cultures and these two people with that kind of power imbalance. However the other instance was not necessary to the plot or character development, and came off as a somewhat distasteful attempt to build sexual tension (FYI: rape is not sexy).

That aside, it's an addictive read. I found myself halfway through without realizing it and was annoyed I had to put it down to do something else. Yes, it's kind of trashy, but it's enjoyable and it will keep you entertained for the length of the book. The only major quibble I had with the writing was Daniells' habit of switching point of view without a break in the text. I'd recommend it for older teens and up because it deals fairly explicitly with sex.

Just bear in mind this isn't political fantasy with romantic elements; it's romance fantasy with political elements. How much you enjoy it depends on which end of the scale your preferences lie.

Medalon by Jennifer Fallon

I'm going to say this once, and hope it doesn't get quoted out of context.

There's a right way and a wrong to do incest.

(In fiction, obviously.  I'm pretty certain there's no good way to do it real life.)

The fantasy genre is no stranger to this particular theme, and not just since Game of Thrones. Sara Douglass is infamous for it, Terry Pratchett pulled an ambiguous did-they-or-didn't they in Pryamids, and Glenda Larke tackled it head-on in Heart of the Mirage. They approached it from different angles and different perspectives, but they did so with an awareness that it's a sensitive issue and a controversial topic.

Medalon... I'm going to be really mean here... Medalon was just weird about it.

To give some context, Medalon is based in a world where a corrupt church is in power and oppresses different races and faiths. Two of the main characters, R'shiel and Tarja, are the son and daughter of a high-standing church official. Plot happens, and they discover that R'shiel is not actually the official's daughter, she was just adopted for boring reasons I won't get into. Anyway, what with one thing and another, they run away and start a rebellion because that's how adults handle problems. And during this rebellion, they get cursed by the shittiest love goddess in the multi-verse and decide that despite being raised as siblings they are wildly attracted to one another.

To be fair, this is not entirely different to what happens in the Axis Trilogy or the Mirage Makers. Both trilogies exist in worlds where the ruling class are blessed/cursed (mostly cursed) to only find fulfilling relationships within their own bloodlines. The difference is that these trilogies addressed the inherent issues within this. Characters like Axis and Ligea, who were raised in separate cultures, were revolted by the practice and compromised by finding lovers who were distantly related enough not to freak them out. Characters like Caelum and Zenith played out the full horror of the premise, showing the logical outcome, and it's not awesome.

In comparison, while Medalon attempts to do something similar with the love goddess, it just comes off as a cheap attempt to explain why the two characters suddenly violated such a strong taboo. And don't tell me just because they're not blood-related they're not siblings - there's a lot of adopted people who'd violently disagree. If Medalon was going to go there, particularly in a culture where incest is forbidden, it needed either to show either how screwed up these two characters were that they were okay with it (think Jamie and Cersei Lannister) or the horrible implications of being entrapped into these feelings by a power outside your control (as per Zenith and StarDrifter SunSoar).

As it is, Medalon treats incest as a disposable barrier in it's will-they-or-won't-they romance, and that's not okay. I'm going to hope that the sequels address this issue with more nuance. Otherwise I'm going to be coming back here and ranting some more.

"She had long ago stopped thinking of him as her brother and was envious enough of Mandah to recognise jealousy when she felt it." 

Enchanter by Sara Douglas

And so continues my Sara Douglass obsession. Today I'll be reviewing the second book in the Axis trilogy (or Wayfarer Redemption if you're in America) Enchanter. Note this is the second book in the Axis Trilogy, so there will be SPOILERS.

In my Battleaxe review, I remarked that book was all about subverting expectations. Success depended on the heroine marrying the wrong man, the hero was a first class dick, and the forbidden army had a legitimate grudge. In comparison, Enchanter is easier to predict; its foundations were already set up in the previous book so it takes that traction and goes with it.

Axis, the main character, has finally been reunited with his people and is learning the ways of an Enchanter. However war is swiftly coming to Tencendor, and he will need to act quickly to forge humans and Forbidden into an alliance against the horrific Gorgrael. Meanwhile, Faraday suffers in her marriage, her only joy the secret worship of a pagan goddess. Azhure becomes a warrior, but there are things that don't add up about her, and there will be a bloody reckoning before the end. 

The fun in this book is watching the characters grow into their own. All the potential that was hinted at in the first book is now fulfilled tenfold. If Battleaxe was about them tentatively accepting their role in the Prophecy, then Enchanter is about actively embracing it. It's also where we see them start to sow the seeds of their downfall (some of which won't come to fruition until several books down the line). Many of these are easily foreseeable problems, and are even called out by other characters, but this book functions like the first half of the tragedy, in which the characters' fatal flaws are set up that will be their doom. Axis' arrogance and Faraday's self-sacrifice for example will cost them heavily, but their mistakes makes sense for who they are and how they perceive themselves.

Also enjoyable was the in-depth exploration of the culture of the Avar and the Icarri, which is one of the most fun examples of world-building I've ever encountered. No, they're not perfect; all three races are deeply flawed and secretly convinced they're superior. Some of them have traditions that the others find repellent (I'm not even going to get into the Icarri incest) or bitter history that makes co-existence difficult. But all of it makes their relationships way more interesting than the stagnant perfection of Tolkien's elves or similar.

Readers should keep in mind this book doesn't shy away from the gore - Faraday's husband gets perhaps the worst of it, though other characters don't do so well either. There are also some seriously questionable actions taken to achieve the protagonists' goals. Lets just say that George R. Martin didn't invent morally flexible characters and leave it at that. The characters' taste for the melodramatic can also get tiring at times, but what the heck, it's all part of Douglass' style.

Ultimately this is a good read and a very worthy installation in one of Australia's fantasy classics. It's easy to find, just head to your local bookshop.

"They were both so young and both so sure life would work out exactly as they hoped. Well, already plans and vows lay shattered across the floor. Could they not see that?"

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