The Edge of Everything by Jeff Giles

Rating: 3 & ½ Stars

“Do not even make fun of my star-crossed supernatural love.”

There is a point in a novel, that you were feeling neutral about, that tips you either for, or against it. The wry self-awareness of this sentence, almost towards the end of the book, was what won me over. Not that there is anything mediocre about Jeff Giles first novel. It proves to be a promising start to an interesting new Young Adult series.

Teenager Zoe Bissell has had a rough few months starting with the death of her beloved elderly neighbors, then compounded by the loss of her father in a caving accident. On a stormy night, she meets a stranger whom she dubs X – a bounty hunter from the Lowlands, the hellish underworld in this story.

As you may guess, the path of true love does not run smooth. But the obstacles conspiring to keep the two apart are interesting enough to merit sequels. In Zoe and X, we have two young protagonists who are plucky, vulnerable, passionately in love, and caring about the others in their lives.

To be honest, it was the last part that I found especially endearing. This romance is not just about two self-absorbed little twits – that they have a life and interests outside of each other keeps thing real. 

Raising Steam by Terry Pratchett

Rating: 3 & ½ Stars

Pratchett weaves a tangled web. Not only does each novel have interwoven plots, but each fresh book picks up the threads of ideas and characters from his preceding works. Like much of Discworld it is messy, chaotic, yet with an underlying unity of vision.

Moist Von Lipwig, former conman, who first made his appearance in ‘Going Postal’, has despite his reluctance had ever further eminence thrust upon him by the Patrician of Ankh Morpork – Lord Vetinari. Lipwig is now officially in charge of the Bank, the Post Office, and the Mint. It only stands to Vetinari’s reason that he should also take on the responsibility of Discworld’s latest invention – the Steam Engine.

Pratchett thereby continues the theme of the evolving history of Discworld, and Ankh Morpork, in particular. 

We’re now a long way from the investigations of the species-diverse Watch, and the eldrich antics of the Wizards and Witches. What he has in his sights is an economy in tumultuous growth, say, akin to the industrialization of Victorian England, but at hyper speed. The burgeoning of one industry inevitably leads to the mushrooming of several others.

If nothing is as unstoppable as an idea whose time has come, the world borne by the Giant Turtle is being engulfed by a tsunami of new ideas, bringing together people, species, and cultures as never before. No surprise then that there are those who fiercely resist the changing times. The Grags, the ‘deep down Dwarfs’ are the ultra-orthodox of Dwarfdom, many of whom strive to keep others chained to the same darkness in which they have imprisoned themselves. Peace on DW hinges on quelling the discontent metastasizing in the Dwarf community.

It hinges therefore on men and women of good will and intention who are even more single-mindedly undeterred from their purpose than their adversaries. Thankfully they’re never in short supply in Pratchett’s books.

The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood

Rating: 4 Stars

2000 Booker Prize

This isn’t a feel good book. Never mind; it has other things going for it.

For starters there is its technical virtuosity. Atwood has taken an outmoded literary device – the epistolary novel - and imbued it with a savage new life. While the novel is certainly open to feminist interpretations, the author’s approach is iconoclastic in its demolition of fondly-held notions of family, religion, and marriage. That makes for a prickly, uncomfortable read; but artistes’ integrity lies is in staying true to their vision, not in pandering to the fickle caprices of the audience.

The plot is like a matryoshka doll, apparently nesting several stories within the main frame. The narrative opens in the 1940s, ‘ten days after the war ended’. Iris Chase hears of the tragic death of her younger sister, Laura, in a car accident. We learn over the course of the novel that Laura has achieved posthumous fame with the publication of the scandalous (for its time) book, ‘The Blind Assassin’. Iris, several years later, though physically frail, is indomitable and clear-minded in her old age as she never was in her youth. Part of the story is her recollection of her life as she writes it down for an estranged grandchild.

Part of it are also excerpts from ‘The Blind Assassin’ - a story of a young society woman involved with a man on the wrong side of the law, though his crime is never made explicit. The couple meet in various different locations each having their own reasons for being very careful. The word ‘love’ is not mentioned in their trysts, and they are often cruel or callous; yet, their need for one another, even if not always tender, is genuine and palpable.

The third story is the science-fiction tale with which the young man entertains his lover – a fantasy world of oppressive social stratification, sexual deviancy, and a perverted religion based on sacrificial rituals. Even under these unconducive circumstances, there are two unlikely people who fall in love seeking a redemption from the sordid reality of their lives.

Each story is engrossing enough on its own. Atwood’s ingenuity lies in her one-woman enactment of the triple Moirai in spinning the narrative; keeping the skeins from unraveling; and, swiftly and ruthlessly tying the threads together for a truly brilliant yarn.

“…All she has left is the picture. Also the story of it.

The picture is of happiness, the story not. Happiness is a garden walled with glass: there’s no way in or out. In Paradise there are no stories, because there are no journeys. It’s loss and regret and misery and yearning that drive the story forward, along its twisted road.”

Snuff by Terry Pratchett

Rating: 3 & ½ Stars

It’s been a while since I read a new Pratchett novel, having missed the last one. Not that it matters; Discworld is the kind of place that tends to stay with you. Give it an inch, and it will take over your whole head.

Those readers who are familiar with the series know that it has three main branches – Wizards, Witches, and the Watch. I’m partial to the last, since I’m an admirer of the city of Ankh Morpork, that great smelly melting-pot of humanity and other related species. That’s really the thing, isn’t it; scratch the surface of a human and you’ll never know what will raise its snarling head – it could be a werewolf, vampire, zombie, or any one of the denizens that populate Discworld. ‘Human’ as we understand the term is but a thin veneer. That’s something that doesn’t escape the sinister but elegant mind of Havelock Vetinari, the Patrician of Ankh Morpork. Samuel Vimes, on the other hand, is more your average Joe, or at least, he’s trying very hard to be one, against all evidence to the contrary.

Vimes, the cynical, tough copper is now, thanks to the machinations of fate, the Duke of Ankh Morpork, Commander Samuel Vimes etc. etc. The titles are rather tiresome, but they do allow Vimes the privilege of being the confidant of those in high places. In ‘Snuff’, he finds himself on an enforced vacation, rusticating and playing the role of country squire. But as the saying goes in the Watch, where there’s a copper, there’s a crime, and sure enough, he gets a whiff of it before long. When the Commander decides to serve justice, he is not stingy-handed about it.

I miss the old Vimes – he was well-suited to the mean streets of Ankh Morpork. Now, his legend seems to be snowballing beyond control. It leaves me wondering - my word, what will be thought of next to add to his glory and redoubtable reputation? This apotheosis of Vimes makes me uncomfortable, because it can only be achieved by the sacrifice of Vimes, the common man.

I also miss the old Pratchett.  Though I won’t say he’s lost his edge, his most recent books definitely lack the cheeky, sideways Brit wit, the sparkling zaniness that transformed the lowly craft of punning into high art. There seems to be an extra dose of sentimentality as well. All this does not necessarily mean that the new books are lesser, only that they are different. On the plus side, if the younger Pratchett showed off his wicked humor and impudent intellect, now he reveals his heart. Either way, it’s a win-win situation for his fans.

Related Reading:

‘The Secret River’ by Kate Grenville

The best fantasy is never divorced from the sorry truth of reality. Grenville, in her award-winning book, paints a haunting picture of the ethnic conflict in newly colonized Australia. Pratchett talks in terms of species conflict. By any name, bigotry dehumanizes all parties involved.

http://noa-betweenthelines.blogspot.com/2011/08/secret-river-by-kate-grenville.html



The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern



Rating: 3 Stars

It would seem to me that Erin Morgenstern’s debut book missed its destiny. It would have been a spell-binding graphic novel. The author has an artist’s visual sense, and she virtually paints a world within our imagination. Yet, some things are missing.

Illusionist, Hector Bowen, better known to his audience as Prospero the Magician, receives a not too pleasant surprise when a hitherto unknown daughter is dropped into his life. Though his paternal impulses are not stirred at meeting six-year old Celia, his professional and competitive instincts are aroused when he realizes that she has inherited more than a little of his talents. He challenges an old rival, Alexander, to train an apprentice who can match her in a contest of their making. Celia and Marco Alisdair, grow up always aware of the presence of the other, and the eventual contest to be faced. The nature of the challenge itself and the criteria for winning are left to be guessed. As much pawns as they are players, the enchanting world that they conjure is thrown increasingly into peril as they realize the stakes involved.

It sounds gorgeous, doesn’t it? In many ways it is an exquisite confection of a novel – the stuff that dreams are made of. It reminded me of another of this year’s debut novels – The Tiger’s Wife – which also brimmed with alluring potential, but didn’t quite deliver on its promise.  

The problem is that what is enough for a fairy-tale doesn’t do the trick for a full-length book. Though the idea is intriguing, the plot development is nebulous and dreamy, and characterization is flat. Reams of paper are devoted to the description of the Cirque de Rêves  – that fragile, fantastic child of Celia and Marco’s imagination; but the end result smacks of smoke and mirrors, and is ultimately less than completely satisfying.



The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien



Rating: 3 & ½ Stars

The challenge in fantasy is in creating an imaginary world that is apparently fabulous, but one that beguilingly draws the reader in. It’s a world that we want to be real. The influence of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien (1892-1973) can be seen in works ranging from Rowling’s Harry Potter series, Paolini’s Inheritance books, Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels, right down to fantasy role-laying computer and video games.

His books highlight that often unsung hero – 'the little guy'. Hobbits, who feature both here, and in the epic Lord of the Rings trilogy are quite literally, little guys – child-sized beings with no remarkable abilities, fond of food, drink, and company. Innocent and mild-natured as they are, it’s their actions and choices which tip the balance of good over evil.

The hobbit in this story, which is the prequel to the The Lord of the Rings, is Bilbo Baggins, a ‘grown-up’ hobbit at the age of fifty. Fond of hearing tales of adventure, Bilbo doesn’t actually want anything so disreputable as to be personally involved in one. That changes when Gandalf, wizard extraordinaire, enters his life. Before he knows it, the harassed Bilbo finds himself neck-deep in dwarves, dragons, trolls, orcs, and danger. Yet, our unlikely hero is not to be underestimated; cautious, pragmatic and unassumingly selfless; Bilbo surprises everyone before the tale is done.

If the plot sounds a little jejune for the sophisticated reader, think again. This is a fantasy written by a very grown-up writer for those who haven’t abandoned their inner child. Though in many ways, surprisingly anti-intellectual (surprising because Tolkein was an Oxford professor, a philologist), a mature sensibility pervades the novel.

Most of the wry, ironic humor is at the expense of the comfort-minded, risk-averse hobbit. Tolkien saw active duty on the Western Front in World War I. The book never loses sight of the fact that in events the outcome of which will impact multitudes, there is no single rescuer striding in to save the world from calamity. Many contribute to the problem, many suffer the consequences, many must come together to find a solution.

The Color of Magic by Terry Pratchett

Rating: 3 Stars

Swimming gently through space is the great turtle A’Tuin . On his back stand four gigantic elephants on whose back is balanced a circular disc of a planet. Is this making sense yet? If it doesn’t, congratulations, you’ve gained entry to Discworld, where the reigning order is Chaos, and the only reliable guide is the road map to enchantment. To give you a sample of Pratchett, his theory of the Multiverse might suffice:

An alternative favored by those of a religious persuasion, was that A’Tuin was crawling from the Birthplace to the Time of Mating, as were all the stars in the sky which were, obviously also carried by giant turtles. When they arrived, they would briefly and passionately mate, for the first and only time, and from that fiery union new turtles would be born to carry a new pattern of worlds. This was known as the Big Bang hypothesis.

Though I wouldn’t rank this book with Pratchett’s  best, you couldn’t guess that it was the first of many books in the Discworld series, the reason being that there is nothing even remotely tentative about Pratchett’s writing. He dives in with aplomb, and the bemused reader is swept along in the contrails of his imagination.

‘The Color of Magic’ gives us a broad overview of the geography and nature of Discworld. The magic in this fantasy series is of a most slippery sort, not something to be tamed, but a wild and elemental force that rules all of Discworld, but is more perceptible in some areas than others. It is the kind of world where anything can happen and usually does. 

This book is loosely divided into four parts. In the first, 'The Color of Magic', we meet Twoflower and his reluctant wizard guide, Rincewind. Rincewind is a bright underachiever with a certain atavistic instinct for survival. He is our hero, for lack of a better word. In ‘The Sending of Eight’ the many gods of Discworld have some sporting fun with the hapless duo. Rincewind is unfortunate in many respects, except that he has found favor with the most powerful goddess of all, known only as the Lady, but whose last name might be Luck. In 'The Lure of the Wyrm', Rincewind and Twoflower team up with Hrun the Barbarian. In the last, 'Close to the Edge', the two fall into the clutches of the astronomers of Krull, who have come up with a device to determine the sex of A’Tuin (Well, wouldn’t you want to know?)

Though Discworld may teem with the stuff of fantasy legends – heroes, magic, dragons, beautiful women; if you’re looking for the obvious, you’ll never find it in a  Pratchett book. He doesn’t have the most accessible of styles, and is by no means easy reading. In fact, his books should come with a cautionary label, something along the lines of, Warning: An acquired taste that may flare into a full-blown addiction.

Angelology by Danielle Trussoni

Angelology by Danielle Trussoni

Rating: 2 & 1/2 Stars

Robert Langdon and Symbology, move over, there’s a new pseudo-science in town – Angelology. In Danielle Trussoni’s book, Angelology is the study of angels, in general. The Angelologists however, are a vigilante force specializing in the Nephilim.

The author cites Biblical references, telling us the story of a group of Angels known as the Watchers, who were sent down to Earth to keep an eye on humanity. Apparently they liked what they saw; at least the female half of it. The hybrid offspring born of these angel/human relationships, and their descendants are the Nephilim. Those who envision angels as ethereal beings of goodness are in for a rude shock. The remorseless, narcissistic Nephilim bear more than a passing resemblance to the soulless denizens of various vampire novels.

Drawn into the centuries old warfare between the Nephilim and the Angelologists, are a naïve young art historian - Verlaine, and an equally unprepared nun - Evangeline. The author, though drawing upon several tried and true literary archetypes, has certainly come up with an intriguing, and richly imagined plot. In the first part of the book, she whets the reader’s curiosity, with a tantalizing start. But unfortunately, the plot flounders in the crucial second half, in its description of the Angelologists’ exploits in wartime Europe. However, she recovers her footing when she steers the story back to present-day New York. The book’s ending seems poised over the edge of a sequel.

There are a few narrative gaps in the plot. In answer to the question, why haven’t the wealthy and powerful Nephilim obliterated their antagonists, this is the answer:

“…they have a remarkable flaw…what they do not have is the intellectual prowess, or the vast store of academic and historical resources that we do. Essentially, they need us to do their thinking for them.”

That clears it up.

She devotes an inordinate amount of words to rapturous and repetitive descriptions of the Nephilim’s physical beauty – their stature, the blondeness of their hair, the blueness of their eyes, the paleness of their skin…ad nauseam. It’s like we’re dealing with a particularly vapid but vicious species of Scandinavian supermodels.

The author’s characterization tends to come off as flat and wooden. And never is this more evident, than when she talks about the Nephilim, who seem mostly caricatures of villainy, rather than the real thing.

If you’re truly intrigued by angelic malfeasance, and want to see bad done right, there’s no match for Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’, or his charismatic, doomed anti-hero – Lucifer. He has a certain devilish charm. Don't be put off by its 'Classic' credentials. It got that label for a reason.