[His] mind churned on with constantly changing images of death.
Bada-boom! Another Sten novel.
Surprisingly, this one took a while to get going. The nov[His] mind churned on with constantly changing images of death.
Bada-boom! Another Sten novel.
Surprisingly, this one took a while to get going. The novel flirts with being a police procedural as well as a political thriller, in addition to an action story. This is a departure from the previous novels, which were more purely action oriented, if memory serves (I’m taking too long between books).
After his years in Mantis Section, blood didn't bother [him] much. But politics—politics could make your skin crawl.
There are still some decent action sequences, though; violence erupts suddenly and savagely, which is par for the course in this series.
The Sten books don’t rely on anything particularly fancy to generate thrills. They are dependable and (fairly) straightforward and exude a certain old school charm.
Five Imperial battlewagons died that day, as did most of the Seventh Guards Division committed on the troopships. Among the million dead, spewed into lung-spilling space or endlessly falling onto a rock-hard planet, were the men and women of [his] ship.
Toward the end the story generates some real tension and there is at least one surprise reveal.
While I (possibly) didn’t enjoy this one quite as much as the previous two entries, it is still very easy to recommend this series. It’s just a lot of fun. ...more
Out of the blocks this novel scratched a sensawunda itch that was causing me no small amount of reading distress (I But wait. There was something new.
Out of the blocks this novel scratched a sensawunda itch that was causing me no small amount of reading distress (I haven’t really been reading a lot of books for the last three years, and I was desperately looking for something to kickstart my reading obsession again).
I’ve had the Xeelee omnibus lying around for ages, and I’d read Raft some time back, but never got around to Timelike Infinity even though it was on my “to-read” shortlist. Now, even though this is the second book in the Xeelee sequence, it is nothing like its predecessor. For one thing, the story here takes place a lot earlier in the timeline (only about a 100,000 years, give or take) and for another, while Raft deals with an isolated event, Timelike Infinity takes place in deep space and introduces the space-time elements and quantum physics that is so integral to the sequence.
He was beyond time and space. The great quantum functions that encompassed the universe slid past him like a vast, turbulent river, and his eyes were filled with the gray light that shone beneath reality, the light against which all phenomena are shadows.
Timelike Infinity is chock and block full of wonder, and casually juggles brobdingnagian ideas and cool science as if it is absolutely nothing. From the construction of wormholes to towing one to the Galactic Centre (and back, no less) to exploit relativistic time dilation effects… and much more. The novel features just enough exposition to truly make the reader believe. As a set-up novel it succeeds fantastically, because, consider: this whole story actually just sets up the heavy-hitter of the series, namely Ring.
And speaking of which, Baxter has probably come up with what is probably the craziest artifact to ever grace the pages of a Sci-Fi novel (please comment below if you disagree, since I would be keen to investigate the competition).
”A Ring. A torus. Composed of some unknown, crystalline substance. A thousand light-years across. Rotating at a respectable fraction of the speed of light. It was massive. It had caused a well in spacetime so deep that it was drawing in galaxies, including Earth's Milky Way, from across hundreds of millions of light-years. It is an artifact. A Xeelee construct. [He] watched the Xeelee build it."
All this is chucked in rather casually here. A sort of a teaser, if you will. The details will no doubt be forthcoming in Ring. The technical bombardment of quantum physics jargon will likely be enough to leave me bruised and senseless for a week. Baxter is no slouch at this type of thing.
As for the Xeelee themselves. They are introduced here as enigmatic and godlike, basically so far removed from any other sentient life as can possibly be. For example: spacefaring races all vie for leftover Xeelee tech, since it is basically the only way to make any sort of progress among the stars, even though nobody really seems to understand it. However, they take no active part in the story being told, which just adds to their mystery.
Black hole evaporation would continue, with the eventual shrinking and disappearance of event horizons even on the scale of galaxies and clusters of galaxies; and naked singularities would emerge into the spreading sweep of spacetime. Perhaps the universe could not exist beyond the formation of a naked singularity. Perhaps the formation of such a flaw would cause the cessation of time and space, the ending of being.
The sight which greeted her was so incredible that the breath stalled in her throat.
The Brobdingnagian conclusion to a Brobdingnagian trilogy.
Just fi The sight which greeted her was so incredible that the breath stalled in her throat.
The Brobdingnagian conclusion to a Brobdingnagian trilogy.
Just finishing this is an accomplishment (tap on shoulder). If you manage to make it through the trilogy you will have read more than 1.1 million words (this instalment alone contains more than 400,000 words and weighs in at almost 1,300 pages). Relevance? Well, if you are going to be spending so bloody long reading a SF trilogy it had better be damn good!
As challenging as it was to read all of this, I have to marvel at the mental fortitude required (or whatever one would call it) to write something like the Night’s Dawn. This is a huge story with characters, factions, races, ideas and tech enough to fill encyclopedias. While predominantly a Space Opera (albeit with scientific flourishes) it contains elements of Horror and even Fantasy. I simply couldn’t read the novels back to back (it would probably have rendered me catatonic), but I possibly missed out because of this. A few characters I simply didn’t remember, even though their storylines were clearly carried over from the previous books.
Dark wings slowly spread wide, sweeping eagerly, sending motes of interplanetary dust swirling in his wake. He shook his neck, blinking huge red eyes, flexing his talons. In this state, he was perfectly at one with himself and life.
As edgy as this story is (and it’s pretty damn edgy), Hamilton still manages to casually chuck in sense of wonder elements that will take your breath away. From artefacts to parallel dimensions, and a whole lot in between, it’s as if he was bent on seeing how far he could push the boundaries of (cosmic) plausibility, while retaining the focus on a character driven narrative, and without neglecting the basic plot. Often, with big idea Sci-Fi, characters take back seat, but not so here. In fact, it’s the very act of trying to indulge both aspects (plot/ideas vs characters) that bloats these books so much (for better or worse).
[It] exploded out of the top of the lift shaft at near-sonic velocity, a comet of anti-light.
During the course of the trilogy I was horrified, awed, perplexed, anxious, stunned, thrilled, [add synonym / antonym of choice here] …in equal measure. Arguably, by this point I was getting a bit fed up with all the “possessed” politics and brouhaha. After thousands of pages depicting the abuse and violation of their host bodies, their justifications just ring empty (“It’s because they’re lonely”, “it’s because they want to feel something” – pffft). Also, unremittingly omnipotent antagonists make for frustrating and futile reading. Anyway, the author touches on some philosophical questions regarding the nature of “souls” and religion etc. The reality dysfunction isn’t an external threat, it’s a good hard look at what it means to be human. Occasionally the grimness crosses a line (this holds true for the whole series). The author does a good job of glossing over dressing up what is essentially a pretty unsettling and uneasy premise, but some of what happened in the overall story just gave me the creepy crawlies, and not always in a good way. An obvious issue: IT’S.DAMN.LONG. I suffer from attention drift and I really struggled not to let everything fall apart in my mind like a bag of marbles torn open. Some sequences dragged a bit which is a cardinal sin in a novel of this length.
Real worry began to seep into [his] thoughts. It was the visitor who was causing this part of the affliction. Almost an anti-presence, soaking up life and heat like some hazy event horizon. This was alien at its extreme.
One of my favourite sequences (by far) detailed the search for the Sleeping God, which is essentially a journey across and beyond the Orion arm of the galaxy with some awesome visual descriptions and a few gobsmacking revelations. The whole thing is an exercise in extremes: the exciting bits are very exciting, the grim bits are very grim, and when the novel slows down it stands completely still (the philosophical meanderings won’t be to everybody’s taste). In the end, I do believe that the whole trilogy is still a remarkable achievement, especially in its world building and sprawling scope. I would recommend it to people who are serious about their Space Opera, but with two provisos: (1) these books, and this last one in particular, are ridiculously thick, so reading stamina is required and (2) there is a certain amount of dark and ugly uneasy in here which you will need to process.
[He] saw it then, a delicate haze of light, like God had wet his thumb and smeared a star across the canvas of space.
Inevitably, the resolutions at the end were never going to be to everybody’s liking. However, there’s no denying the spectacle of the main event. Is it Deux Ex Machina? To qualify, it needs to be a previous unknown, and yet there has been foreshadowing from book 1. In fact, the climax is the conclusion of one of the main storylines of this novel. So, not necessarily god-in-the-machine, by definition, but it's the way it happens that gets you. I will concede, it is OTT in the extreme, and it does sort of make everything moot. Leaving us to ponder the question: what was the point of all this? Ah, but there’s the rub. Looking forward and not backward.
Right out on the very edge of visibility, there was a perturbation in the curtain of darkness. Faint shadow-shapes moved sinuously, the surface distortion of something stirring deep inside....more
Dying she could handle. Dying without any answers seemed terribly cruel.
I read Leviathan Wakes way back. While I enjoyed it well enough, I wasn’t compDying she could handle. Dying without any answers seemed terribly cruel.
I read Leviathan Wakes way back. While I enjoyed it well enough, I wasn’t compelled to rush off and start the next book immediately.
But, here we are. And given that this has now been adapted into a TV series (which I haven’t watched yet), the time has come to pick up where I left off…
“Ladies and gentlemen. This settlement is in security lockdown.”
…and I’m glad that I did! If this book is anything to go by the series is shaping up nicely, with the promise of good things to come.
This is a high-profile series, so there are already droves of (positive) reviews here; it makes little sense to add another. But let’s, anyway.
The story doesn’t take long to get going. There is a fair amount of excitement and drama right out of the gates, which sets the tone for the book’s pacing.
Also, I know comparisons aren’t necessarily good form, but I find that they help convey the feel of a story when my vocabulary lets me down: - The Quiet War: there is more than a passing resemblance to McAuley’s work, from the inner-system / outer-system politics down to the fact that a main character in The Quiet War is a Soil Biologist (Prax from Caliban’s War is a Botanist). The biggest difference, I suppose, is that The Expanse is more action driven. - Firefly: obvious enough. Except: with more actual science.
To be clear, I don’t intend these comparisons to be taken as criticism, but it adds some context to what can be expected from this book. The general feel of this Universe, if you will.
It’s noteworthy that the authors can create a sense of Space Operatic grandiosity, while still keeping everything rooted in the kind of verisimilitude that near future Hard Science Fiction is normally known for. This marriage of style and substance does create something that is possibly slightly bigger than the sum of its parts.
The best scientific minds of the system were staring at the data with their jaws slack, and the reason no one was panicking yet was that no one could agree on what they should panic about.
And of course, the elephant in the room protomolecule. This obviously (still) makes for some scary shit s**t, and is the baited “hook” of the series. It’s a good one too. Horror and in Science Fiction is a fantastic mix if done right. It’s utilized to fine effect here; the authors are wisely not bombarding the reader with zombie sequences all the time (something which would reduce their impact). They’re kept in reserve for just the right moment. I would have loved to learn more about the origin of the protomolecule, especially considering the closing sequences of the novel. Explanations had better be forthcoming in the next instalment.
When the battle began, it began all at once.
I have to say I found the action sequences pretty damn exciting. I can imagine that all of this would translate well to the visual medium.
Of course, no SF novel would be complete without some wonder:
Some part of [him] was disappointed that the transit was so dangerous. He’d never flown to Io before, and the view of the moon at the edge of his screens was spectacular. A massive volcano of molten silicate on the opposite side of the moon was throwing particles so high into space he could see the trail it left in the sky. The plume cooled into a spray of silicate crystals, which caught Jupiter’s glow and glittered like diamonds scattered across the black. Some of them would drift off to become part of Jupiter’s faint ring system, blown right out of Io’s gravity well. In any other circumstance, it would have been beautiful.
I’m not giving this book 5 stars though. Why? While I really enjoyed Caliban’s War it isn’t all rosy: for one thing, despite feeling like a better novel than its predecessor (as mentioned above), it also felt a bit “samey”. Like a repeat performance, if you will, albeit a better rehearsed one. Also, I didn’t care too much for a few of the characters. A chain is as strong as its weakest link; for example, I really liked Bobbie Draper but Prax annoyed me.
So, other than that there isn’t too much to add. This is the second book in (what appears to be) a nine-book series. As such it serves as a sequel as well as a set up for whatever comes next, which is a bit of an Achilles heel in itself, albeit an expected one. It does its job commendably; in the end everything comes together nicely. If Leviathan Wakes was a 3.5 rounded up, this one is a solid 4.0.
“We’re all traitors now.” “Only if we lose.”...more
Taking historical events and weaving a novel around it may not be a new idea, but S.A. Swiniarski (better known in some circles as S.A. Swann) pulls iTaking historical events and weaving a novel around it may not be a new idea, but S.A. Swiniarski (better known in some circles as S.A. Swann) pulls it off with remarkable panache here. At times sweeping, at times introspective, but always atmospheric, The Flesh, The Blood and The Fire has a lot more going for it than against.
There are three notable events the author works with here, namely: (1) the Cleveland torso murders, (2) the Eliot Ness campaign to clean up police corruption and (3) the Second World War. The story takes place over about a decade, starting in the early thirties and concluding in 1944, and has quite a few different aspects. Predominantly though, it is a horror novel about vampires… and redemption… and one man’s obsession with truth.
The Flesh, The Blood and The Fire may be somewhat obscure, but it is a gem of a story. The book is also a nice snapshot of post-prohibition Cleveland. If you’re into real Vampire fiction (as represented by the likes of 'Salem's Lot, Necroscope and They Thirst) this book should definitely be on your watch-list.
Part biography, part reference guide, this is a magnificent companion book that deals with each Tintin book in its own clearly defined chapter.
What sPart biography, part reference guide, this is a magnificent companion book that deals with each Tintin book in its own clearly defined chapter.
What separates this one from the pack is the background that the author brings to each section, but without going into superfluous amounts of detail. The political and social events that impacted each book are examined, as well as influences on Hergé’s life at the time. Hergé’s artistic and professional development is followed as the series progresses, as well as his personal life and events that (probably) impacted his emotional state.
The effect that Tintin had on his creator’s life is enormous, and it seems to have been a love/hate relationship right to the end.
This book does not appear to be endorsed by the Hergé foundation, but it might as well be. Thompson brings an enormous amount of respect and passion to the table, and the book is obviously well researched.
Something that I particularly enjoyed was the information relating to some of the other artists that assisted Hergé with his work, in particular Edgar P. Jacobs and Bob De Moor.
If, like me, you were raised on Tintin, this is an absolute must read.
I am (as a direct result of this book) re-reading all the Tintin books and comparing each to its relevant chapter. Fantastic stuff!
5 Stars
Read as part of the must-read agreement with my wife – 2014 ...more
After a prophetic vision of the destruction of our galaxy, a young girl decides to set events into motion“No. I am not Death. I am merely Her herald.”
After a prophetic vision of the destruction of our galaxy, a young girl decides to set events into motion that will have far reaching effects, with the hope of averting the future disaster. This is book 1 in a series.
All I have left are the nightmares, and the slim chance I can help save the universe.
As derivative as this premise sounds, don’t shoot it down just yet. For one thing, despite the rather suspicious cover art, this is an actual bona fide Military Science Fiction story, and not something else posing as such. For another, even though the opening paragraph of this review clearly invokes echoes of Hari Seldon (Foundation), this isn’t quite the same thing at all.
Dead bodies. Seared bodies. Scorched, frozen, bloated, stripped, mutilated bodies. Eyes wide, she saw nothing but bodies and barren, lifeless dirt.
As the story progresses, several layers are peeled away, revealing all kinds of fascinating tidbits, such as how Ia came by her precog abilities. It is not the best paced story I have read, considering that it is a Mil-SF novel, but stick with it: it is rather rewarding. A curious amount of detail is, at times, expended on mundane events, such as, for example, getting dressed or going to the bathroom. This is not a criticism as much as an observation; I seem to recall L.E. Modesitt Jr. doing the same thing.
“Space is not the place for ammunition mistakes.”
I appreciated the level of detail as soon as the depictions of the firearms started. There is a great amount of interchangeability and flexibility introduced in both energy and projectile weapons, and it’s somewhat important to understand just how these things work. Remember: this is Military Sci-Fi, so things will get blown to smithereens at some point.
Caught off guard, Ia and her fellow recruits scrambled to get into position.
One of the more interesting aspects of the novel, for me, was how unfolding events sometimes differed from Ia’s foreseen future. This makes for a fascinating dilemma, if you read between the lines. Is Ia for real, or just a delusional girl (with a gift) suffering from a messiah complex?
“Where are all the crewmembers?” [He] asked quietly after a few minutes of searching.
A Soldier’s Duty boasts an interesting array of extra-terrestrial critters, but this is one area where details are sparse. I’m guessing some exposition can be expected going forward, since some of these will no doubt feature in future instalments – notably the energy based Feyori who seem to take their kicks from meddling in the affairs of other species, and the sinister Salik.
And you can bet as sure as hellfire and damnation that they wouldn’t be nice to us while they’re interrogating us, one tasty slice at a time!
Sometimes Ia’s precognitive omnipotence and psionic skills can be a bit annoying, but it is also the very thing that distinguishes A Soldier’s Duty from the crowd (unless you’ve been mistaking her for a Jedi). The novel goes to great lengths to foreshadow future series events, so it’s clear that this story could turn into a long(ish) one. I’m hoping I will be able to remember everything when I get to the end.
Ia nodded. She knew what was coming.
An easy 3.5
Read as part of the annual must-read agreement with my wife....more
This book was recommended by my wife as part of our 2014 have-to-read agreement. Being the good husband that I am, I pre-empted her and read it in 201 This book was recommended by my wife as part of our 2014 have-to-read agreement. Being the good husband that I am, I pre-empted her and read it in 2013.
Actually, I was quite keen to read this. Chances are I would have read it even if she didn’t recommend it. I rather like it when movie novelizations are written by authors who have a good track record.
This one didn’t disappoint. To be honest, it didn’t blow my mind, but it was fun in a pulpy kind of way. The depictions of the wasteland that the earth has become in the Mad Max universe are eerily atmospheric (my throat is getting parched just thinking about it), but Bartertown could have done with some fleshing out.
I’d seen the movie, of course, but eons ago. I couldn’t remember plot details but knew more or less what to expect. The book delivered exactly that. No more, no less.
So, not a literary masterpiece, but a nifty companion to the film and recommended to lovers of post-apocalyptic fiction and Mad Max buffs.
Then he went on, looking for what he no longer thought he would find.
So. Stephen King... and this is the kind of thing he doesWhat a depressing book.
Then he went on, looking for what he no longer thought he would find.
So. Stephen King... and this is the kind of thing he does best - all the ingredients of a traditional SK story are here: small town, big cast of characters, paranormal event et al. Personally, I prefer his older stories, because of the nostalgia factor, but Under The Dome is a nice return to form.
There was a lot of traffic, mostly headed south. A few of these folks might have legitimate errands, but [he] thought most were human flies being drawn to the smell of blood.
Much like Brian Keene’s Darkness on the Edge of Town, this is a novel of what could conceivably happen to a tight-knit community (read: where people know too much of each other’s business) when they are cut off from the outside world. To say that things get ugly is an understatement. Murder, rape, exploitation, madness… well, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. However, this novel does not deal with events in the same first person intimacy as Keene’s book. Rather, events play out on a bigger scale.
”It’s Halloween. It’s the Great Pumpkin’s fault! You have to stop the Great Pumpkin!”
The paranormal angle, even though being central to the story, is somewhat downplayed for the most part. The focus is on individual stories of misery. And, yes, this often is an uneasy read.
When he reached the foot of the driveway, heart skittering in his chest and blood thumping in his temples, the house remained dark and silent.
…but reading Horror isn’t supposed to be a breeze, is it? That would be cause for concern. On the down side, there is a futile predictability to the way the story unfolds: when characters are presented with a bad choice and a worse one… guess which one they always take?
There was something wrong in here, too. [She] was sure of it. The place felt more than creepy to her; it felt outright dangerous.
Whether you like King or not, there’s no denying he’s a master at this game. However, if you’re new to his writing go get 'Salem's Lot or The Shining first.
Somewhere voices were calling: lost and terrified....more
They were seeing the death of the realms, of everything they knew, stark and irrevocable. There was nothing left, nothing but ash and sand and salt andThey were seeing the death of the realms, of everything they knew, stark and irrevocable. There was nothing left, nothing but ash and sand and salt and ruin.
What the author envisions here is nothing new, but his approach is undeniably visceral. The Black Mausoleum is a stand-alone novel, but there’s a lot of potential catch up to do if, like me, you’re unfamiliar with the trilogy that preceded it.
The waking of the dragons had changed everything, and now nothing mattered except food and water and watching the sky.
Following events depicted in the Memory of Flames arc (starting with The Adamantine Palace), the realm is in chaos (think total devastation) and, quite frankly, mankind seems to be teetering on the brink of extinction. Those alive live in tunnels and caves where they can find them, and nobody dares venture out in daytime.
They were the Adamantine Guard. They slew dragons because dragons were monsters and yet, when [he] looked at the men he’d known, they were little more than monsters themselves.
It’s a very gritty story, with characters as morally grey as charcoal. Think, for example, Glen Cook and The Chronicles of the Black Company. The Black Mausoleum runs a gamut of violence, torture and cannibalism but fortunately steers clear of providing uncalled-for details. It’s all about survival, no matter the cost.
And the cost in this novel is often very, very high.
You’ll warm to the characters and hate them in equal measure. If ever a book deserved to be shelved as “Dark Fantasy”, this is it.
There he was, every bit the monster. His armour was spattered in blood. It dripped down the shaft of his axe and over his gauntlets. His eyes were hungry and mad.
The world is revealed in little more than glimpses, but what a world it is. There is some real sense of wonder here, even though the author keeps a lot of it purposefully vague. This is a trick that actually works quite well in this novel, since the point of view characters are on as much of a voyage of discovery as the reader.
And the dragons! They do make for some spectacularly visual action sequences.
Over his shoulder there was the dragon again, screaming over the river in a turn so vicious it made the air shudder enough to crack trees.
Despite being a difficult read at times, because of the tone, this book certainly hit all the right notes. It’s actually a fairly minimalistic story, but it contains some epic sequences. I’m giving it five stars, but I’m also going to give myself some time to digest all of it. It’s just that kind of book.
Deas also drops just enough information regarding The Silver King to intrigue me no end.
Such as:
The halls and vaults of the Pinnacles glowed from above like a softly starlit night, a legacy of the Silver King, who’d brought order to the broken world and who’d first subdued the monsters. Half monster himself, half living god, adept with magics that no one before or since could even understand, almost everything here bore his mark. The Pinnacles had been his home for more than a hundred years, until the blood-mages had found a way to kill him.
And the contemplations of the Dragon, Blackscar (or, more correctly, Black Scar Of Sorrow Upon The Earth)
It had had a rider in those days. A true rider, a worthy one, a man made of silver. The god-men of the moon, whom the little ones called the Silver Kings.
Now I will seriously have to seek out the rest of this series, notably the The Silver Kings sequence starting with Dragon Queen.
In closing: I own the Orion / Gollancz large paperback and the Stephen Youll cover art is magnificent. ...more
The last book in Abercrombie’s dark fantasy trilogy. Done. Dusted.
It’s going to be a while before I’ve properly assimilated everything that happened o The last book in Abercrombie’s dark fantasy trilogy. Done. Dusted.
It’s going to be a while before I’ve properly assimilated everything that happened over the course of the series. It’s quite something, and it’s well worth your time if you enjoy genre fiction.
Last Argument of Kings – thoughts
Strange and painful events seemed to follow in his wake like stray dogs barking behind the butcher’s wagon.
Like I mentioned in one of my earlier reviews, it isn’t clear whether this wants to be (dark) heroic or (dark) high fantasy. It does contain elements of both; It’s very, very violent and bloody at times, but it also has moments of hush and awe. As expected, the action sequences are spectacularly impressive, especially any featuring Logen Ninefingers, or more particularly, The Bloody Nine.
[He] stood still and caught his breath, the sword hanging down by his side, the grip cold and wet in his clenched fist. He’d never been much of a one for moving until it was time. “Best tell me your name, while you still got breath in you. I like to know who I’ve killed.”
I’d be hard pressed to select just one word to describe Abercrombie’s writing, but something that did spring to mind was “immediate”. There is an intimacy and urgency to the prose that pulls the reader in, kicking and screaming, for better or worse, until everything is played out. At almost 700 pages in pretty small print this is no light read, and yet it’s over before you know it.
The characterisation in this story and in this entry in particular, is extraordinary beyond my ability to describe. The POV characters are fairly ambiguous for the most part and you’re never quite sure just who is going to carry the day as the biggest bastard, or beloved, of the series. I think, though, that I’m not alone in being partial to master Ninefingers, who is easily one of the most bad-ass and provocative anti-heroes to grace (if you could call it that) the pages of a book.
It meant nothing to [the Bloody Nine] who men were, or what they had done. He was the Great Leveller, and all men were equal before him. His only care was to turn the living into the dead, and it was past time for the good work to begin.
A word of honour has to go to Inquisitor Glokta, whose inner musings are a delight and whose story is rife with intrigue and delivers the most surprises.
It always amazes me, how swiftly problems can be solved, once you start cutting things off people.
As with the previous books, there is a lot going on, mostly concerned with warfare. Siege, battle, bloodbath, siege: wash, rinse, repeat. Despite that, it remains a fascinating story that manages not to be overshadowed by the mayhem. The (extended) ending is likely the portion that readers will quibble over the most, but it’s a fantastic achievement all in all. Great stuff all round.
Addendum: In a recent review of a different book I made a comment regarding the use of (crude) expletives during certain, um, scenes of intimacy. The same thing happens here, but it didn’t seem so out of place at all. This either makes me the biggest hypocrite in the universe, or this is just that good a book.
You have to be realistic about these things. ...more
[He] noted the distortion, the bulk of mass above and too-long legs, the play of starlight on carapace and thorn, the shadow of arms under arms, and e[He] noted the distortion, the bulk of mass above and too-long legs, the play of starlight on carapace and thorn, the shadow of arms under arms, and especially the ruby glow of hell-lighted crystals where the eyes should be.
Fall of Hyperion is the second half of the story started in Hyperion. Where the latter introduced us to the seven pilgrims and told us their back stories, this book tells us what happens to them during their pilgrimage on Hyperion. You absolutely can not read this book if you have not read Hyperion, and by the same token, if you have read the first book, you absolutely have to read this one.
Apparently, it was written as a single book, but the publisher had it divided into two parts. It does make the page count more manageable, I suppose, but it also detracts from the overall experience (I am fairly sure there are lots of people out there who have read Hyperion but who haven’t read Fall of Hyperion, and it’s a crime).
Now, enough of that and back to the review.
[He] found himself standing upon a vast lunar plain where a terrible tree of thorns rose five kilometers high into a blood-red sky. Human figures writhed on the many branches and spikes: the closer forms recognizably human and in pain, the farther ones dwarfed by distance until they resembled clusters of pale grapes.
It is a challenging story, not just because of the grim imagery, but because of the nature of the plot. What is real? What is simulated? What is metaphor? Nothing about this story is simple. The plot has a number of significant twists and “oh hell” moments. Also, any book with time travel elements can quickly turn into a headache, what with possible causal loops and bootstrap paradoxes (et al). Of course, most is revealed at the end, and the author quite deftly weaves a tale of far future interstellar drama on a grand scale. Fall of Hyperion is a very literary Science Fiction novel (in more ways than one) and masterfully written.
[He] looked up, and the viewing filters of his skinsuit polarized to deal with terrible energies that filled the sky with bands of blood red and blossoms of fierce white light.
The backdrop, of course, is war. But there is more to it than meets the eye, and events taking place on the planet of Hyperion (and in the Hyperion system) will determine the fate of humankind.
Hyperion / Fall of Hyperion deserves every accolade, award, award nomination and five-star review that have been thrown at it. It is quite an achievement, albeit a bit intimidating. If you are a serious Science Fiction buff you should read this, even if it is just to sate your curiosity or to earn the right to criticize, but chances are you will really, really like it. There are some pretty big ideas here, but the drama mostly takes place on a human scale. There are some strong philosophical and religious undercurrents that are central to the plot (in many ways), pertaining to the nature of God, or the Ultimate Intelligence.
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. - William Butler Yeats, The Second Coming, Excerpt
Saturn is fallen, am I too to fall? Am I to leave this haven of my rest, This cradle of my glory, this soft clime, This calm luxuriance of blissful light, These crystalline pavilions, and pure fanes, Of all my lucent empire? It is left Deserted, void, nor any haunt of mine. The blaze, the splendour, and the symmetry, I cannot see—but darkness, death and darkness. - John Keats, Hyperion (a fragment), Excerpt
Another classic that has taken me much too long to get around to. And what a shame, since this is a really good bo“This is insane.” “This is necessary.”
Another classic that has taken me much too long to get around to. And what a shame, since this is a really good book.
“Is it true, Mr. Deckard, that you’re a bounty hunter?”
I won’t go into a lot of detail regarding the differences between the Blade Runner film and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, although there are some fundamental deviations, especially as far as the conclusion of the story is concerned. I will say this: the novel explains the empathy testing better, which is rather important in fully comprehending the gist of the plot.
You understand, don’t you, that this could go wrong either way.
The same ambiguity that drives the film is obviously present here. It’s a clever book, no doubt, and Philip K. Dick was an iconic author for good reason. He was also, by all appearances, a troubled soul, which might explain the streaks of genius that permeate his ideas. There are moments when things get a bit metaphysical (or bizarre), but it is par for the course when it comes to reading P. K. D.
This rehearsal will end, the performance will end, the singers will die, eventually the last score of the music will be destroyed in one way or another.
It’s evident that themes of morality and consciousness resonated strongly with the author. What does it mean to be human? Or to be alive? P.K.D. does come up with an answer of sorts, but it’s the kind of book that is designed to make readers think for themselves.
Because, ultimately, the empathic gift blurred the boundaries between hunter and victim, between the successful and the defeated.
Now if only the Electric Sheep had actually made it into the movie…
Yet another interesting spin on the Vampire mythos, Fevre Dream is a delightfully atmospheric historical horror-drama. It skirts dangerously close to Yet another interesting spin on the Vampire mythos, Fevre Dream is a delightfully atmospheric historical horror-drama. It skirts dangerously close to the boundary between Horror and Urban Fantasy, but it still manages to stir up some legitimate scares. This is George R.R. Martin, after all, and one or two of the more disturbing scenes will likely echo with you for an uncomfortable space of time.
That night he dreamt. In his dreams he was dark and graceful, elegant and predatory. It was always night in his dreams, and he roamed the streets of New Orleans beneath a full, pale moon.
That said, it isn’t a scare-a-minute story this. There’s a lot of build up here. The characters are colourful and well presented, but there isn’t much in the sense of progression. You’ll find yourself more than a little frustrated when the protagonists fail to follow through on obvious solutions and when, a 100 pages or so later, the status quo is exactly the same. In fact, fully half the book consists of what can only be described as an impasse… or stalemate.
Through the dark he stalked them, gliding soundlessly over the brick sidewalks, hearing their frantic footsteps and their panting.
Fortunately, this isn’t an oversight on the author’s part. The frustration Martin generates with his story is integral to the plot, but it does make for some uneasy reading. There are also some parallels drawn between slavery and the Vampire “culture” (for lack of a better word). If this doesn’t make sense, you need to read the book.
The night was his, and all the nights forever, and the red thirst was on him.
The title of the book, which also happens to be the name of a Steam Boat featuring prominently in the story, is rather apt. The story has a feverish quality to it, as if everything is being filtered through your drug of choice. It’s good stuff, but it straddles a precarious line between Horror, History and Fantasy. I’m not sure whether this will appeal to everyone, but I will definitely recommend it.
I read the Fantasy Masterworks edition.
When he woke from the dream, he was hot and fevered, and his sheets were wet.
4 Stars Read as part of the must-read agreement with my wife ...more
The Minds did not assume such distinctions; to them, there was no cut-off between the two. Tactics cohered into strategy, strategy disintegrated into The Minds did not assume such distinctions; to them, there was no cut-off between the two. Tactics cohered into strategy, strategy disintegrated into tactics, in the sliding scale of their dialectical moral algebra. It was all more than they ever expected the mammal brain to cope with.
Okay, so this gets off to a rocky start: the early chapters in this book are a bit odd, almost as if they were written by someone other than Banks. Or is it just Banks being Banks, and giving the reader the old one-two? (because he was known to do just that). But: once it becomes clear that you’re dealing with a rather unique linear-forward and linear-reverse story structure it is somewhat easier to start putting things in perspective. Or is it?
Let’s see. What we have here are two stories being told, in alternating chapters, one moving forward in time to its conclusion and one moving backwards in time to its conception. They’re related, mind, so things make sense once you get into your stride. In fact, they are inextricably linked, because the one is concerned with the main story (as per any normal novel) while the other is concerned with the emotional state of the protagonist. In other words: who is Cheradenine Zakalwe?
Or something like that.
A dark crop of stars reached out towards him, picked him up softly between vast fingers like some delicate ripe fruit. In that immense enfolding he felt deliriously sane, and understood then that in an instant - any instant, and with only the most minute of efforts - he might understand everything, but did not desire to. He felt as though some awesome galaxy-quaking machinery, always hidden under the surface of the universe, had somehow connected itself to him, and dusted him with its power.
This, the third (third?) Culture novel is an extremely good book, but not the easiest to digest (both in terms of subject matter and narrative). It is upheld as one of the finer Culture novels by many, and deservedly so, but it certainly isn’t the most entertaining one (so far, for me, that distinction still goes to Consider Phlebas ).
He opened the cottage door wide. You could see anything in the rain. The individual drops became streaks with the slowness of the eye; they merged and re-emerged as cyphers for the shapes you carried inside you; they lasted less than a heartbeat in your sight and they went on for ever. He saw a chair, and a ship that was not a ship; he saw a man with two shadows, and he saw that which cannot be seen; a concept; the adaptive, self-seeking urge to survive, to bend everything that can be reached to that end, and to remove and to add and to smash and to create so that one particular collection of cells can go on, can move onwards and decide, and keeping moving, and keeping deciding, knowing that - if nothing else – at least it lives. And it had two shadows, it was two things; it was the need and it was the method. The need was obvious; to defeat what opposed its life. The method was that taking and bending of materials and people to one purpose, the outlook that every-thing could be used in the fight; that nothing could be excluded, that everything was a weapon, and the ability to handle those weapons, to find them and choose which one to aim and fire; that talent, that ability, that use of weapons.
A remarkable book with an interesting paradox at its centre. 4 stars...more
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