Review Category: Books

Review: Doctor Who – Scales of Injustice / Author: Gary Russell / Publisher: BBC Books / Release Date: Out Now

Junior Doctor Who fans introduced to the Silurians in recent TV episodes, which have seen one of ‘classic’ Doctor Who’s most fascinating species humanised and turned into light comic relief, will most likely be utterly bewildered by this dense, dark, continuity heavy title from 1996, reprinted as part of the BBC’s new ‘Monster Collection’ novel series. Not only is the family-friendly ‘new’ Silurian on the cover of this reprint hugely anachronistic, it’s also misleading. Readers expecting a cheery twenty-first century style Silurian romp will find themselves confronted with brutal violence, light swearing, a tortuously complex narrative worlds away from the fast-paced sophistication of modern Who – and many may wonder why the BBC felt that the title is a suitable addition to a range so clearly aimed at the younger demographic who have grown accustomed to a lighter tone since the series returned in 2005.

In his all-new introduction, writer Russell (who would go on to script edit the TV series in the 21st century) professes his love for Jon Pertwee’s 1970 debut season. And whilst Russell’s characterizations of the show’s leads – the Doctor, assistant Liz Shaw and the Brigadier – are decent enough, the story itself barely resembles the era its author is so keen to recreate. The Doctor is largely peripheral to the action – which ultimately is the familiar ‘Silurians wake and want their world back’ common to all their televised appearances – whilst the Brigadier is portrayed as a man whose devotion to duty is putting his marriage at risk and Liz Shaw is a pipe-smoking (?) boffin frustrated by being the Doctor’s straight-woman.

Russell is far more concerned with his own creations – secret Governmental departments, shady conspiracies and mysterious assassins – and pages and indeed entire chapters (the book being split into seven distinct ‘episodes’ to mirror the style of much of the 1970 TV season) pass by in a blur of talking heads yakking at one another and singularly failing to allow the story to develop much in the way of momentum. Scales of Injustice creaks under the weight of its continuity references and whilst older fans may admire Russell’s enthusiastic (and often quite ingenious) attempts to weave together countless threads from the series’ long canon, casual readers are likely to quickly find themselves adrift in the backwaters of a story which bogs itself down in far too much self-satisfied box-ticking at the expense of any decent action and genuine narrative invention.

Scales of Injustice isn’t a bad book but it’s clearly a relic from a thankfully bygone age of Doctor Who fiction, lacking the sprightly pace of the more accessible novels published by BBC books since 2005. Newbies to the series are advised to approach with extreme caution.

Review: Star Wars – Empire and Rebellion – Honour Among Thieves / Author: James S.A. Corey / Publisher: Century / Release Date: March 27th

Star Wars: Empire and Rebellion: Honour Among Thieves focuses on everyone’s favourite “scruffy looking nerf-herder” Han Solo. Shortly after the events of A New Hope, Han and Chewie are sent on a mission into the heart of the Empire to extract a high-level rebel spy. But when Han locates the brash agent, Scarlet Hark, she’s determined to stay behind enemy lines to pursue a pirate who plans on selling stolen secrets, which the Empire would destroy entire worlds to protect. Han finds he has no choice but to go along if he’s to keep everyone involved from getting themselves killed.

Authors Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck, writing as James S. A. Corey, have created a fun, adrenaline-fuelled adventure and they cleverly reveal a side to the cocky smuggler that we’ve not really seen before – Han’s insecurity about his place in the universe. As a man who despises authority, he is constantly at odds with himself about his involvement with the Rebel Alliance. He believes that should the Rebels triumph over the Empire then the universe would just be trading one authoritarian regime for another. We see a jaded view of civilised order through Han’s eyes and this is captured perfectly in his description of the glimmering, pristine Imperial city on Cioran, with its automated parks, streets that are too clean, and bars where the customers speak in hushed tones, huddled over their drinks. This type of orderly world is the “small bowel” of the Empire. This is a more contemplative Han Solo, raising interesting moral questions in which the very nature of freedom and the choice of how one wants to live their life are at stake. This approach works spectacularly well and is in no way detrimental to the character as it reveals just what a complex man Han actually is and we witness the subtle beginnings of a shift from selfish smuggler to selfless hero.

The pacing of the novel is masterful and the authors have managed to combine action, drama and humour wonderfully. The style of writing is so descriptive, so vivid and so alive that you forget that you’re reading printed words on paper thanks to the images that are conjured in your mind. Han’s dialogue is particularly witty, and the writing mimics his tone perfectly. Adding a complexity of thought and action to a classic character like Han Solo makes what could be just a fun but ultimately throwaway novel so much more rewarding.

Review: The Forbidden Library / Author: Django Wexler / Publisher: Doubleday Childrens / Release Date: April 10th

Young Adult fantasy is extremely popular of late, with several authors turning their hand to writing for a younger audience. Django Wexler is the latest, with his novel The Forbidden Library, the back cover of which welcomes the reader to ‘your new favourite adventure’, but only after reminding them of Narnia and Wonderland. While such blurb may be risky, it serves to entice the reader to step between the covers.

Wexler introduces Alice, a plucky young heroine who is promptly orphaned and sent away to live with the mysterious Mr Geryon, a relative she didn’t realise she had. His house is old, suitably dark and foreboding, and contains the titular library. Alice gains entry, finding that there is a world within each book; pulled into one of them, her only chance of escape is to conquer whatever dangers lurk within. While all this may sound like Wexler is simply using all the usual ingredients, it’s the way he mixes them together that gives the book its strength. His writing is top-notch, never patronising, making his world come to vivid life. Even the library itself feels alive; it’s a fascinating, dangerous place, dark and ever changing, yet filled with wonders overflowing from the pages of the books on its shelves.

Alice herself is a believable heroine, greater than the sum of her parts; she is scared as well as amazed, and the writing is such that we feel it along with her. Like her, we’re being taken on a journey, one that is heart-breaking as well as triumphant. The characters she encounters are equally as interesting, from the mysterious old relative to the talking cat (trust me, it works), each of them with their own agendas, leaving Alice and the reader to guess what they may be.

The author’s comments state that the book started as ‘something of a lark’, a change from his usual epic fantasy. It’s an experiment that’s truly paid off, a refreshing and unique tale – one that rises above the clichés it could so easily have fallen into – that entertains on every level. It’s pitched perfectly to its audience (as well as those who are a few years older…) and, while only time will tell if it becomes a classic, it treats the familiar tropes with care and respect, leaving the reader wanting more after the final page has been turned.

Review: The Three / Author: Sarah Lotz / Publisher: Hodder and Stoughton / Release Date: Out Now

The Three is a book that’s difficult to define, a tale that stretches across genres. Part horror, part sci-fi, part conspiracy thriller, part discourse on the nature of humanity itself, it’s vaguely reminiscent of something Dean Koontz would have written twenty years ago. Yet, Sarah Lotz’s novel succeeds at being all of these at once, creating a story that is impossible to put down.

The initial premise is deceptively simple – four aeroplanes crash on the same day, yet somehow a child survives from three of them – but it’s what comes afterwards that is central to the novel. To mention anything of the plot would be criminal; suffice to say, there’s a book within this book, a fictional publication that analyses the aftermath of the plane crashes and the effect the survivors have on their loved ones as well as the world at large, making it all feel very personal, yet epic at the same time.

This is achieved by documenting the accounts of various eye-witnesses, both professionally and personally related to the incidents as well as the three survivors. This allows the author to drip-feed information that tantalizes the reader to continue on to the next account. Each of these being relatively brief – a dozen pages at the most – the reader is then encouraged onto the next, then the next, until the final page is being turned. So be warned; once you start, you’d better cancel all your plans for the next couple of days, because you won’t want to leave the book for a single minute.

The author gives each of the accounts a different voice, allowing the reader to become familiar with the character in question. Their emotions are made apparent, but it’s the sorrow and sense of dread that really make the book come alive. The latter pervades the story, but is never overwhelming, increasing when it needs to, but more effective in smaller, more intimate moments. Still, the epic feel is never lost; the whole world is being affected here, as events begin to spiral out of control.

There are scenes that will sit in the mind of the reader for nights to come, knowing that it’s the human reaction to the strange events that may lead to its downfall, rather than the events themselves. The Three is chillingly brilliant, a masterpiece of a story that leaves the reader hanging on every word, always wanting to know more; the only disappointment is that it has to end, but the finale is such that it may make you want to read it again and find the clues you’ve missed.

Review: Echo Boy / Author: Matt Haig / Publisher: Bodley Head / Release Date: March 27th

In a world of virtual reality learning and computer generated teachers, Audrey can hardly ignore the growing population of robots that surround her, no matter how much her father wishes they could. When their old house robot starts to malfunction, her family discuss the possibility of purchasing a new model, an Echo. Echos are robots that appear human apart from their all too perfect skin, needing only water and sugar to survive. There are numerous different models to suit anyone’s needs.

Audrey’s father is a strong campaigner against Echos and especially Castle Industries, one of the driving forces behind their technology. To make matters even more complicated Castle Industries is run by her father’s own brother, creating a rift within the family. But Audrey’s mother insists that an Echo would be the best teacher for Audrey and eventually her father gives in and leaves the final decision to Audrey herself. She agrees to the idea but her father insists they buy one from someone other than his brother’s company.

They purchase an Echo that’s female in appearance and suitable for teaching and she soon becomes part of their everyday lives but after a while they start to notice some unusual behaviour, ingesting more sugar than necessary and not following direct orders, but they don’t worry too much about it. Then one day Audrey emerges from the pod in her bedroom to find the Echo, knife in hand, standing over the lifeless body of her father. She goes to stay with her uncle but struggles with being surrounded by all the Castle Industries Echos that run his home for him. One teenage boy Echo is especially unnerving but is it the Echos she really needs to be afraid of?

Echo Boy is Matt Haig’s first novel aimed at young adults, taking a strong science fiction theme and adding philosophical questions that will appeal as much to adults as teenagers. The eternal question of when and can a robot ever become human is a constant idea that’s explored and analysed within the plot. With this comes more ethical dilemmas: if a robot can feel pain, should it be treated as human? These are the main themes that will appeal to adults but there’s also enough action, adventure and tension with a slight dusting of romance to keep anyone enthralled. The futuristic world that Haig evokes is both fascinating yet believable, creating a dark yet logical progression from today’s technology and pushing it to its next steps.

Matt Haig has penned a number of hugely popular adult and young children’s novels and if Echo Boy is anything to go by, he’s on the way to steal the YA market too. Echo Boy is fun and action packed, but it’s his unique depth of writing that makes Matt Haig’s work such compelling reading.

Review: Empire of the ‘B’s – The Mad Movie World of Charles Band / Author: Dave Jay, Torsten Dewi, Nathan Shumate / Publisher: Hemlock Books / Release Date: Out Now

For genre fans who lived through the booming video business in the early/mid ’80s, the name Charles Band and his company Empire Pictures, evoke memories of low budget but fun flicks, with a passion not seen since the days of Roger Corman.

This latest release from the fantastic UK retailer/publisher Hemlock Books points the spotlight at the prolific writer, producer and director. Laid out chronologically, the book covers the films Band worked on with his eponymous production unit and more significantly, Empire Pictures, from his early films such as Mansion of the Doomed (1975) right up to 1989’s Robot Jox. Now, obviously, there has been 25 years of additional activity following this, but it’s a natural cut-off point. However, in no way is the reader shortchanged. As well as the overview of the films, there are numerous interviews with such luminaries as Stuart Gordon, actor Robert Ginty and composer sibling Richard Band among others, who all give their views on the films they made for Band. The man himself also provides some insight into his life and work.

Naturally, there are large sections on Re-Animator and From Beyond, but it’s the forgotten films which make for some of the most informative reading: be it the obscure Klaus Kinski horror Crawlspace, Terminator rip-off Eliminators, Starburst favourite Terrorvision or that wonderful guilty pleasure (and actually rather good) Troll. To postscript the book there’s a brilliant overview of Band’s American VHS label, Wizard Video, including a filmography of their releases.

As mentioned, the book only covers the work up to the demise of Empire, so the likes of the Puppet Master and Dollman series will have to wait for another volume. But with such a fantastic tome to live up to, it’s an unenviable task! But as Band is still very much active in the business (including just starting his own VOD site, fullmoonstreaming.com and magazine, Delirium) the story is far from over.

You can’t go wrong with this entertaining and enlightening look at the ups and downs of the Band video legacy. Highly recommended.

Review: The Simon & Kirby Library – Horror! / Authors: Joe Simon, Jack Kirby / Publisher: Titan Books / Release Date: Out Now

Titan’s ongoing series of the collected works of the legendary Simon and Kirby reaches the partnership’s dalliance with horror and supernatural comics.

This volume features all the work contributed to the rare Golden Age comics Black Magic and the shorter run of The Strange World of Your Dreams. While these comics came under fire by the US Senate during their witch hunt of horror comics in the ’50s (a copy of Black Magic was held up in court as an example of the deplorable morals of these pulp publications), the work Simon and Kirby did wasn’t as extreme as the EC comics which sparked the outrage and the eventually creation of the Comic Book Code. Many of the stories show a much more mature approach to their subjects, displaying a macabre sense of the uncanny that predates the style of The Twilight Zone.

Which isn’t to say there aren’t some genuinely horrific tales included. However, the fantastic approach and artwork rarely resorts to gory or explicit panels. It’s a testament to the power of Simon/Kirby’s work that they manage to create an oppressive and anxious atmosphere without these, and within the short space allowed; many of the stories are only four or five pages long, but with fifty stories, the reader is never left shortchanged.

Purporting to be an analysis and representations of real dreams, the seven stories from The Strange World of Your Dreams are wonderful standouts.

Their style hadn’t changed from the work they were doing on the romance comics either, which in itself often creates the uneasy balance needed for the horror to be conveyed. It’s this simplistic style which makes re-reading these older comics so enjoyable. If you grew up reading reprints of Silver or Golden Age comics; and specifically the famous and beautiful work Kirby did with Marvel in the ’60s, and you appreciate Ben-Day dots before they were considered ‘Pop Art’, this collection will delight.

 

Review: Doctor Who – Sands of Time / Author: Justin Richards / Publisher: BBC Books / Release Date: Out Now

Justin Richards’ contribution to the BBC’s Monster Collection is the Fifth Doctor story Sands of Time. Originally published in 1996, this is a complex time-twisting story that follows on from the Fourth Doctor TV adventure Pyramids of Mars.

As Justin explains in the introduction, this story was constructed around a single mystery and all the ramifications that follow. Nyssa is kidnapped and it is up to the Doctor and Tegan to scour thousands of years of Egyptian history as they try to rescue her without allowing the Osiran menace of Nephthys to gain power.

The story is told out of order and with the Doctor’s own timeline twisted around in a way that is initially hard to follow. However, the pieces are brought together in the end with plenty of signposting. Along the way, there is a lot of backstory and Egyptology which eventually becomes a bit repetitive. That said, the last third of the book is the strongest – having set up all the characters and twists, the action is well-paced and enjoyable. The book’s main weakness is also its strength in that the removal of Nyssa early on keeps her almost entirely off-stage. The resolution also pivots on one too many unexplained co-incidences, but it needs a critical eye to notice.

A definite plus is the presence of Atkins the butler, who travels in time with the Doctor and Tegan: a well-crafted character, more so than Tegan herself, who is in places perfunctory. Overall, a good story that does cover an alien menace that hasn’t been overused – the setting dominates in places but the book is still a decent read.

Review: Doctor Who – Touched by an Angel / Author: Jonathan Morris / Publisher: BBC Books / Release Date: Out Now

The Monster Collection is a blast from the past, as it’s a series of re-releases of the more famous novels from the Who franchise.

In Touched by an Angel, the Weeping Angels get a rare outing in something that Steven Moffat hasn’t written. What’s great about this is that it gives Morris the chance to bring some fresh ideas to the table, such as the Angels’ new abilities.

Mark Whitaker, the main character, acts like many of us would do if we were ever in the same situation. He gets sent back in time to the ’90s and has to live his way back. We do have to take issue with the Doctor’s claim that Mark’s situation is unique. In Blink, the Angels sent back someone who was around for his younger self’s lifetime.

Morris has written about the last few decades with the kind of detail that makes us relive them. So much so, in fact, that it’s like having the ’90s walk up and punch you in the face. The writing will also remind older readers of how they felt when they were young and a bit of an oblivious idiot like Whitaker. Younger readers might experience a touch of pain at reading this in a post-Angels Take Manhattan world.

The only failing of the book is the almost inevitable turn that the narrative takes towards the end. It plays out in a way that genre-savvy readers have seen a thousand times before. Indeed, it’s not a million miles away from Doctor Who’s own Father’s Day and The Fires of Pompeii. Having said that, if you can get past that (and it’s possible), you’ll enjoy the book. We definitely did.

Review: Last God Standing / Author: Michael Boatman / Publisher: Angry Robot Books / Release Date: March 25th

Novels in which the gods walk amongst us have become increasingly common recently, so much so that this particular subgenre is enjoying a period of intense reinvention and innovation. This has had some very pleasing results, but sadly Last God Standing is not one of them.

The plot focuses on an African American man called Lando Cooper (named after the Star Wars character of a similar name.) Lando is a stand-up comedian who’s day job is working for his father. His personal life is fraught with problems, his family seem pretty strange and his girlfriend is still waiting for that proposal of marriage. On top of all that, Lando is also the mortal incarnation of Jahweh, the God of the Christian faith and it’s his job to keep a lid on the shenanigans of all the other gods. Especially as there appears to be a new deity in town, one who could upset the current order of things.

Boatman’s writing style is messy and anarchic. Though this works well for some set scenes, most of the time it’s a hindrance. The tone switches from comic to action-adventure then to polemic followed by another comic scene. The transitions are not smooth and this leaves the reader confused and a little bored. Worse still, the book seems desperate in it’s desire to lecture the reader but can’t decide whether to use subtext and theme to deliver it’s message or simply have the protagonist think out loud for a bit. Boatman opts for both, making the work even more disjointed.

They are some strong ideas in Last God Standing, especially relating to the various faces of the divine, but they’re buried under a poorly executed narrative. The book feels underdeveloped and poorly planned. A lot of dramatic tension is boiled out due to the central character being God; the author has to constantly look for reasons to explain why the protagonist simply doesn’t snap his fingers, and this really does diffuse a lot of the fun. It’s hard to shake the feeling that there is a clever and radical tale somewhere here, but sadly it doesn’t seem to be quite worth digging in to find it.