I feel safe filing this under 'fluff.' It's a cute story despite the horribly tragic opening, with little character or world development, but a very good balance between over-explaining and under-explaining things.
The world seemed so interesting yet was explored so little, but I'm not sure if that's because Briggs' other books take place in the same universe or not, and therefore gets explored more by the reader. The Hob's Bargain is a standalone novel, or at least that's what I gather from the author's book list in the beginning pages, but some of the other books might take place in the same world, I don't know.
I will probably pick up another Briggs book at some point and see if it's any better. She was recommended to readers who like Seanan McGuire, but I didn't really see any similarities in their work besides a 'strong female protagonist.' So we shall see.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Five Hundred Years After by Steven Brust
And finally, I have read every novel of Dragaera published to date.
Anyone like Alexandre Dumas? No? Yes? I recently saw a homeschool theatre production of The Count of Monte Cristo and was amazed at how much the dialog sounded like the characters in Brust's Khaavren romances. Then I read that these romances were like Brust's tribute to Dumas, and so everything made sense after that. Chicken, egg, etc.
Anyway, reading Brust's books are simply far more enjoyable to me, mostly because they're so funny. Funny is important. I can't deny skipping whole paragraphs of descriptive text, but I just assume that's my impatient brain being unable to process anything except the conversation I so look forward to. Also the political intrigue is more or less above me, so that doesn't help either.
I remember picking up The Paths of the Dead (which happens after Five Hundred Years After; yes, I read them out of order) and being thoroughly disgruntled that Vlad wasn't narrating. It was draggy and wordy and confusing. By the end of that book, though, I'd become so submerged that I was thinking in the dialog of the characters; phrases like "I should like nothing better!" popped into my head if someone asked me if I wanted to leave work early or go out to dinner that night.
What I'm trying to say is, if you pick up one of Brust's books that was 'written' by Paarfi of Roundwood, don't give up on it. And yes, you should go out and pick one of these books up. They're utterly charming.
Anyone like Alexandre Dumas? No? Yes? I recently saw a homeschool theatre production of The Count of Monte Cristo and was amazed at how much the dialog sounded like the characters in Brust's Khaavren romances. Then I read that these romances were like Brust's tribute to Dumas, and so everything made sense after that. Chicken, egg, etc.
Anyway, reading Brust's books are simply far more enjoyable to me, mostly because they're so funny. Funny is important. I can't deny skipping whole paragraphs of descriptive text, but I just assume that's my impatient brain being unable to process anything except the conversation I so look forward to. Also the political intrigue is more or less above me, so that doesn't help either.
I remember picking up The Paths of the Dead (which happens after Five Hundred Years After; yes, I read them out of order) and being thoroughly disgruntled that Vlad wasn't narrating. It was draggy and wordy and confusing. By the end of that book, though, I'd become so submerged that I was thinking in the dialog of the characters; phrases like "I should like nothing better!" popped into my head if someone asked me if I wanted to leave work early or go out to dinner that night.
What I'm trying to say is, if you pick up one of Brust's books that was 'written' by Paarfi of Roundwood, don't give up on it. And yes, you should go out and pick one of these books up. They're utterly charming.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Starfinder by John Marco
I'm not entirely sure why this was not placed in the junior or young adult fiction sections of the library; or rather, why John Marco wrote this book to be geared for adults when I think it would be much more successful among children (if in fact it wasn't misplaced; I forgot to check the genre code before I turned it back in).
A simple but compelling story, Starfinder tells of two young teenagers trying to find their place in the world. The common themes are personal sacrifice and loss of innocence, for both the adult characters as well as the younger ones. Moth and Fiona both lost their parents shortly before the story begins and become friends; yet they are perfect foils to each other even through similarities in their past. Fiona is slightly older and feels some responsibility for Moth, yet often he is the one who has to tell her to have faith and carry on. She is headstrong and reckless, yet insecure, while Moth is cautious and thoughtful, for the most part.
The children set off on a magical mystical adventure when Moth's friend and caregiver, Leroux, dies, leaving Moth with a mysterious gift: the Starfinder. Fiona's grandfather, the governor of Calios, the city in which they live, happens to be an old comrade of Leroux's, and thirsts after the Starfinder. So naturally, the two kids decide to remove it and themselves from the governor's grasp, and head into a forbidden area known only as The Reach.
There they find mermaids, dragon sages, angel-like creatures known as Skylords, centaurs, and other strange things. Antagonists shift; at first the kids run from Rendor, Fiona's grandfather, but Rendor comes to a personal epiphany and realizes he cares for Fiona herself, not the Starfinder. It turns out the King of the Skylords is the one we really should be all fighting against; he has outlawed flight to all except Skylords. So the dragons and humans who wish to be free, and claim their birthright to the sky, must band together to fight his tyranny.
So it's only a little confusing, emotionally anyway, but not impossible to shift loyalties to include Rendor among the protagonists after a time. There are battles and blood, though not too descriptive, death of friends, etc, but I still didn't think it was too mature a story for young teen readers. Overall I enjoyed the simple story, though it remains unfinished- the end was open for the next book to pick up.
A simple but compelling story, Starfinder tells of two young teenagers trying to find their place in the world. The common themes are personal sacrifice and loss of innocence, for both the adult characters as well as the younger ones. Moth and Fiona both lost their parents shortly before the story begins and become friends; yet they are perfect foils to each other even through similarities in their past. Fiona is slightly older and feels some responsibility for Moth, yet often he is the one who has to tell her to have faith and carry on. She is headstrong and reckless, yet insecure, while Moth is cautious and thoughtful, for the most part.
The children set off on a magical mystical adventure when Moth's friend and caregiver, Leroux, dies, leaving Moth with a mysterious gift: the Starfinder. Fiona's grandfather, the governor of Calios, the city in which they live, happens to be an old comrade of Leroux's, and thirsts after the Starfinder. So naturally, the two kids decide to remove it and themselves from the governor's grasp, and head into a forbidden area known only as The Reach.
There they find mermaids, dragon sages, angel-like creatures known as Skylords, centaurs, and other strange things. Antagonists shift; at first the kids run from Rendor, Fiona's grandfather, but Rendor comes to a personal epiphany and realizes he cares for Fiona herself, not the Starfinder. It turns out the King of the Skylords is the one we really should be all fighting against; he has outlawed flight to all except Skylords. So the dragons and humans who wish to be free, and claim their birthright to the sky, must band together to fight his tyranny.
So it's only a little confusing, emotionally anyway, but not impossible to shift loyalties to include Rendor among the protagonists after a time. There are battles and blood, though not too descriptive, death of friends, etc, but I still didn't think it was too mature a story for young teen readers. Overall I enjoyed the simple story, though it remains unfinished- the end was open for the next book to pick up.
Monday, April 9, 2012
The October Daye Novels by Seanan McGuire
I have a lot of problems with these books.
First and foremost, everything is a big fucking soap opera that revolves around our protagonist, a smart-aleck changeling (half-blood) who doesn't seem to be particularly likeable but for some reason everyone loves her and puts up with her anyway. I mean, her personality is hugely appealing to the reader, with snide comments and quick sharp wit, but I can't see for the life of me why the other characters like her so much. Any of them.
Or indeed why they all hate her so much. Every single person in the land of Faerie seems to fall into one of those two categories, and if they don't, they're not mentioned. She can't be so special.
I like her relationship with her squire, Quentin. They dick around amusingly whatever the situation. Everyone else, what the fuck? Really? None of the love interests make sense to me, especially the King of Cats, who should by all rights not be giving a flying fuck about October or what she does. He did have professional interest at first, I get that: October was turned into a fish for fourteen years, and upon her return he was suspicious of her and kept tabs on her to make sure she wasn't really an impostor or anything. Fine. Then he got suspicious about her bloodline, which is something most purebloods would concern themselves with. Fine. But the rest?? There's no good reason for him to care about her the way he does. It makes no sense and I don't like it.
There's also too many little tiny (or sometimes not so tiny) intimate moments for them to retain any sort of emotional power. Those kinds of moments should be used sparingly for that very reason. The eleventh time in the same chapter that someone is running for their life, touching someone tenderly on the cheek, or crying hysterically over a dead body, I stop caring altogether (yes, I'm hyperbolizing, but that's what it feels like).
Everything is also extremely personal. If someone is trying to take down the Duke and Duchess of Shadowed Hills, a big part of their motivation is that they hate October. If October is shot, stabbed, clawed, poisoned, or passed out, but does not end up dying, it's because her friends don't have anything better to do than save her ass because they love her so much. If October dies, her mother brings her back to life. If someone tries to start a war, they also kidnap October's daughter, because that just makes so much sense when you think practically, and not because they simply want to piss her off. Right?
There's also so much fangirl catering- there's formal Courts in faerie, and because October's so damn special she gets to go to them all the time, wearing lovely formal gowns even though of course she'd much, much rather be wearing jeans. Cry me a river already.
Also given everything that has happened to Toby in her lifetime, she should be emotionally, mentally, and physically broken. And she should have been those things a long time ago. No one goes through all that shit unscathed. Not that she's described as unscathed, sure, she has nightmares and whatnot, but what she really should be is locked up in a padded room because her mind's literally snapped. But no, we can just brush it off.
Also, I can't put them down.
I went through An Artificial Night, Late Eclipses, and One Salt Sea in the past five days. A Local Habitation remains my favorite, because everything wasn't so incredibly personal yet, the awful love interests hadn't quite developed, and overall it was just a great creepy little story. Recommend? Yes. There's just also things about them that bother me is all, and I really may just be nitpicking. I'm sure there's fangirls out there who would love to see Tybalt and Toby shag each other, and if so, please enlighten me as to why this would be a good direction for the plot to go in. I really just don't see it.
First and foremost, everything is a big fucking soap opera that revolves around our protagonist, a smart-aleck changeling (half-blood) who doesn't seem to be particularly likeable but for some reason everyone loves her and puts up with her anyway. I mean, her personality is hugely appealing to the reader, with snide comments and quick sharp wit, but I can't see for the life of me why the other characters like her so much. Any of them.
Or indeed why they all hate her so much. Every single person in the land of Faerie seems to fall into one of those two categories, and if they don't, they're not mentioned. She can't be so special.
I like her relationship with her squire, Quentin. They dick around amusingly whatever the situation. Everyone else, what the fuck? Really? None of the love interests make sense to me, especially the King of Cats, who should by all rights not be giving a flying fuck about October or what she does. He did have professional interest at first, I get that: October was turned into a fish for fourteen years, and upon her return he was suspicious of her and kept tabs on her to make sure she wasn't really an impostor or anything. Fine. Then he got suspicious about her bloodline, which is something most purebloods would concern themselves with. Fine. But the rest?? There's no good reason for him to care about her the way he does. It makes no sense and I don't like it.
There's also too many little tiny (or sometimes not so tiny) intimate moments for them to retain any sort of emotional power. Those kinds of moments should be used sparingly for that very reason. The eleventh time in the same chapter that someone is running for their life, touching someone tenderly on the cheek, or crying hysterically over a dead body, I stop caring altogether (yes, I'm hyperbolizing, but that's what it feels like).
Everything is also extremely personal. If someone is trying to take down the Duke and Duchess of Shadowed Hills, a big part of their motivation is that they hate October. If October is shot, stabbed, clawed, poisoned, or passed out, but does not end up dying, it's because her friends don't have anything better to do than save her ass because they love her so much. If October dies, her mother brings her back to life. If someone tries to start a war, they also kidnap October's daughter, because that just makes so much sense when you think practically, and not because they simply want to piss her off. Right?
There's also so much fangirl catering- there's formal Courts in faerie, and because October's so damn special she gets to go to them all the time, wearing lovely formal gowns even though of course she'd much, much rather be wearing jeans. Cry me a river already.
Also given everything that has happened to Toby in her lifetime, she should be emotionally, mentally, and physically broken. And she should have been those things a long time ago. No one goes through all that shit unscathed. Not that she's described as unscathed, sure, she has nightmares and whatnot, but what she really should be is locked up in a padded room because her mind's literally snapped. But no, we can just brush it off.
Also, I can't put them down.
I went through An Artificial Night, Late Eclipses, and One Salt Sea in the past five days. A Local Habitation remains my favorite, because everything wasn't so incredibly personal yet, the awful love interests hadn't quite developed, and overall it was just a great creepy little story. Recommend? Yes. There's just also things about them that bother me is all, and I really may just be nitpicking. I'm sure there's fangirls out there who would love to see Tybalt and Toby shag each other, and if so, please enlighten me as to why this would be a good direction for the plot to go in. I really just don't see it.
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