Review Category: Books

Review: Iron Winter / Author: Stephen Baxter / Publisher: Gollancz / Release Date: Out Now

The Northland series has been a bit of a roller coaster ride so far, and its conclusion, Iron Winter, is very much the ending the series deserves, though sadly, not one that the readers expect or perhaps will enjoy, as it is disappointingly hollow. Despite the promising start of the first book (the excellent Stone Spring), the subsequent books in the series fail to deliver the sort of fascinating changes and shifts that one expects from alternate history tales. The Northland books are inspired by the notion that the Earth’s climate behaves in more extreme ways at key points in the planet’s geological history. This leads to different nations being formed, different cultures becoming dominant and so on. It’s an excellent premise that gets caught up in itself, failing to deliver any memorable moments.

The thrust of Iron Winter is the dawn of a new ice age, which hits during a time when mankind is just beginning to gain a greater understanding of the world. It’s a tale of wise men desperate to be heard, and one of the problems is that though this makes for a nice environmental parable, it doesn’t make for a fun read. It is a very grim story about the end of the world, filled with complicated changes to a world that is familiar enough to be confusing. This is one of Baxter’s driest and darkest books yet, and it is not helped that it is very hard to feel anything for the characters.

If you’re looking for a heavily science driven novel with a strong environmental overtone, then take a look at Baxter’s book Flood, which is superb. Iron Winter, however, is just not as engaging as it needs to be, suffering from too much setting and not enough people.

Review: Clockwork Angels / Author: Kevin J. Anderson / Publisher: ECW Press / Release Date: October 11th

The concept album is back! And this time you can buy the book too! Working in close collaboration with the band’s lyricist Neil Peart, Kevin J Anderson has elaborated the themes and ideas behind Rush’s new record into a steampunk fantasy novel, which in turn has been illustrated by artist Hugh Syme. Those crazy prog rockers. What will they think of next?

It’s set in a rigidly codified land ruled over by a benevolent tyrant known only as the Watchmaker. Nearing his seventeenth birthday and longing to see more of the world than just the village where he’s been raised, young Owen Hardy embarks on a series of hazardous journeys. Along the way he joins up with a travelling carnival, voyages by airship, wanders the desert and has several run-ins with the Watchmaker’s arch-nemesis, the Anarchist.

Anderson can pen a nifty sentence and there are some memorable touches, such as the Watchmaker’s faithful pet Dalmatian, long dead but still accompanying him for walks thanks to the magic of clockwork. But with its clumsy opposition between order and free will, the whole thing feels a bit too twee and simplistic for adult readers, although it might well appeal to a younger audience. Still, turning a record into a book is an interesting idea, and who knows, if it catches on, maybe one day they’ll do a novelization of The Adventures of Kaptain Kopter in Potato Land. A man can dream.

Review: Hush / Author: James Maxey / Publisher: Solaris / Release Date: Out Now

There is a growing trend for fantasy novels to be grim, gritty and filled with knights who swear and monsters so evil that they take all the joy out of being scary and are simply nasty. Luckily, Hush isn’t one of those books; it’s a fun, well-thought out fantasy romp which is packed with clever one-liners and plenty of action.

Maxey proves that fantasy doesn’t have to be po-faced and serious in order to be fun, whilst at the same time tells a story with depth and emotion. It’s written in a quick, easy flowing style which makes it effortless to read and because the tale feels likes a fantasy adventure action movie, you’ll find that hours have passed and the book is finished before you know it.

The plot is the usual high-fantasy fare; powerful dragons, beautiful warrior maidens, magical hammers, flying whales, cross-dressing dwarves, ghosts, golems, frozen northern wastelands and the end of the world as we know it. All the sorts of things we demand from a book like this. It’s unlikely to win overly serious literary awards or get its own HBO TV series; it is what it is and I like that just fine.

Hush is the sort of book that fans of games like World of Warcraft or Dungeons and Dragons deserve; intelligent fantasy that doesn’t waste it’s time trying to prove how smart it is. It isn’t for everyone, and it’s hardly original, but as the winter draws near it’s a welcome distraction. It feeds the reader with plenty of fuel for the imagination whilst delivering on its promise of action and fun. Be warned that it’s the sort of book that embraces (and then subverts) plenty of fantasy clichés; if you’re looking to be easily offended then stay away; Maxey pulls no punches with the cheesiness of the setting. This isn’t a parody (though it comes close on occasion), it’s an exceptionally well done example of its genre, and a breath of fresh air for anyone sick of swords and sorcery stories covered in mud, blood and misery.

Review: Jack Glass / Author: Adam Roberts / Publisher: Gollancz / Release Date: Out Now

Jack Glass is a bit of an odd book, as it is essentially three separate novellas joined together by a theme and common elements. A mix of classic-style science fiction and traditional locked-room murder mystery, each of the stories revolve around the notorious criminal and anarchist, Jack Glass.

Each tale is distinctly different from the next, the first is about men stuck in an asteroid prison, forced to work together in order to survive. It is quite gruesome, dark and also thoroughly engaging, containing enough strangeness and ideas to power the reader through some very dark moments. It’s a triumph of storytelling, however, this makes the shift of pace into the second story quite jarring, as we go from gritty crime thriller to Agatha Christie in space, and it takes a little while to adjust. The middle story also serves to expand the world and lay the groundwork for the finale, but sadly, fans of good old fashioned mysteries will see a lot of twists coming, but perhaps not all of them. After all, isn’t that rather the point?

The novel finishes with good old fashioned mystery, and builds on the momentum from the previous sequences to create a high-speed page turner which is hard to put down. Adam Roberts never fails to surprise with his quirky take on the world, and Jack Glass is no different.

The author has crafted an interesting world, one of wonder and poverty, crime and perfection, one that is as fantastic as it is believable, filled with subtle slavery, cynical genius and larger than life characters. The protagonists do suffer from being two-dimensional, but this is more a result of mixing space opera and murder mystery, rather than any sort of lack in the writing. I suspect most sci-fi fans will find something that will delight them in Jack Glass, but at the same time there will almost certainly be something else that isn’t to their taste. It’s a finely balanced work, but perhaps not quite balanced enough to be the instant classic it comes close to being.

Review: Thin Men With Yellow Faces / Author: Gary McMahon & Simon Bestwick / Publisher: This Is Horror / Release Date: 22nd September 2012 / RRP: £4.99

For the second release in the This Is Horror chapbook series, we have been almost spoilt with a collaboration between Gary McMahon (Pretty Little Dead Things, the Concrete Grove trilogy) and Simon Bestwick (The Faceless, Tide of Souls).

Thin Men With Yellow Faces begins as an everyday tale set in our less than perfect little world, but deteriorates into something altogether more bizarre and freakish. Gabrielle Holmes is a worker for the Child Protection Services who is working on a possible case of abuse of a young girl, Heather Mayhew, after a teacher at her school raises concerns. When the girl’s father refuses to allow access to Gabrielle, it only heightens her suspicions. The police are less than helpful due to a previous case where Gabrielle made mistakes and a parent was wrongly accused.

As her evening moves on, Gabrielle can’t seem to shake the feeling that something is wrong, that something is being hidden. Coincidences seem to be springing up all over the place, including the murder of the teacher who raised the alarm. Gabrielle then receives a visit from the eponymous characters, dreadful figures that are almost reminiscent of the Gentlemen in Buffy. She barely escapes with her life and decides to do everything within her power to rescue Heather, who she feels is in danger.

What begins as a luridly bad urban dream disintegrates as Gabrielle comes to realise that she may not survive the night, but her professionally maternal instincts have kicked in, pushing her forward in her quest. What she finds after she breaks into the Mayhew house is nothing like what she expected and the story here lurches nicely from the familiar to the hidden secrets that we dare not consider – even if they hold the surprising answers to the questions that no-one would want to know.

A decidedly tight, tense nightmare that will leave you wanting to know so much more, this second chapbook only cements the promise that was offered with the first book by David Moody. A short, sharp read that you’ll want to re-read again and again.

Review: The Art and Making of ParaNorman / Author: Jed Alger / Publisher: Chronicle Books / Release Date: Out Now

The best ‘making of’ books are the ones that get personal, the ones that tell you a little bit about the inspiration, the dreams and the hopes of the people involved. The Art and Making of Paranorman is a book that does just this; it also gets inside stop-motion production house Laika and presents you with a fascinating world.

Paranorman is the new stop-motion animated feature that revolves around Norman, a young outcast who can talk to the dead and must save his town when a zombie invasion begins. After Coraline, Paranorman is Laika’s most ambitious project and took two and a half years to make what is essentially an hour and twenty minutes of film. What is surprising about this title, is that unlike a book about Pixar for example, where the office is presented as a bright, colourful and fun place to hang out, the writers make no bones about it – Laika is a non-descript, drab building filled with sweaty craftsmen under hot lights working endless hours on details to bring the stop-motion puppets to life.

The inspiration behind the film’s story is touched upon and you get a good idea of the genesis for the story, all of the artists that are the main players in the production are given a bit of a background and it seems they are all outcasts of a sort, devoted to their craft from an early age. A bit more about the genesis of the idea wouldn’t have gone a miss, especially since it’s something that horror film geeks are set to love but this isn’t that kind of book unfortunately. Instead, the book goes through character design, costume design, set design and special effects and there are endless wonderful behind the scenes pictures which back up the early unglamorous studio description.

Every aspect of animating these stop-motion creations is gone over in great detail without ever feeling alien to non-tech heads. There are some surprising things that come into play as well, for instance, we had no idea that the time of year of the story or the reasons behind why certain houses are painted the same colour would ever be considered during production on a stop-motion animated feature. The final pages of the book go into the rigours of actually animating a film using rod puppets and the patience and personalities involved in the painstaking process. From all accounts Paranorman is perhaps more ambitious than most. It’s the level of detail that makes this book essential for fans of animated cinema in any of its forms; it’s an eye-opening journey for a film that is easily one of the year’s best.

Review: The City’s Son / Author: Tom Pollock / Publisher: Jo Fletcher Books / Release Date: Out Now

Tom Pollock’s debut novel starts with the words ‘I’m hunting’, immediately throwing the reader directly into the mind of its titular protagonist. With a breathless first-person, present-tense narrative, we’re grabbed by the lapels and hauled into the story. Filius Vitae is hunting a creature called a Railwraith but, as these are his thoughts, we’re never directly told what this creature is; we’re treated maturely, with only Fil’s words to help us figure things out, while our imagination fills in the blanks. It’s an exciting, intriguing first chapter.

To say it gets worse after that would be unfair, but in the next chapter we are introduced to Beth Bradley, teenage graffiti artist who, with her best friend Pen, prowls the streets at night painting their mural and writing poetry. Now, I’ve not read much Urban Fantasy, but there does seem to be a lot of stories where a ‘normal’ person is dragged into the ‘weird’ world, and the reader is given exposition through their eyes. It’s a writer’s tool, of course, and it admittedly works in this book, never laboured or strained.

Fil and Beth meet, teaming up to do battle against the Crane King, architect of destruction. Along the way, we (and Beth) are introduced to the various fantastical denizens of London, and it’s here where the author’s imagination truly shines. Pollock himself admits that the works of Neil Gaiman and China Mieville were ‘especially important’ during the writing of this book and, while this is clear to see, he’s created some unique and wonderful beings. His is a rich and compelling world in which streetlights wage war with one another, statues have watched and waited for centuries, where scaffold and waste can be brought to life.

It’s a book I found difficult to put down, although I did feel there was something missing. After its superb, strong start, the rest seemed weak by comparison; I’d have preferred to read the words of The City’s Son himself, rather than his narrative being interspersed amongst the standard third-person voice. However, the story is about Beth; it’s her journey, and that of those around her, such as her father and Pen. The advantage of this is that supporting characters are given their own agendas, making them important to the story.

The plot is predictable in places, having a certain inevitability, but that doesn’t detract from the enjoyment. It’s sturdy and believable, with an emotionally satisfying and compelling denouement. There are, however, times when it feels that Pollock has had to rein himself in, and not go ‘too weird’. I’d have liked ‘too weird’, to have heard this author’s voice throughout the novel, rather than in places. Speaking of voices, Pollock has a damned good ear for the native London accent. Again, sadly, it’s something that is used intermittently in the dialogue, and the same character who came across as cockney in one scene will sound somewhat bland in the next. First book nerves, perhaps?

The City’s Son is a good book, especially so for a first novel, but I can’t shake the feeling that it could have been great. Still, there’s no doubt that Tom Pollock is a talented author, one to keep an eye on, and I look forward to the second instalment of the Skyscraper Throne trilogy.

Review: Catching Bullets – Memoirs of a Bond Fan / Author: Mark O’Connell / Publisher: Splendid Books / Release Date: Out Now

We’re all waiting with baited breath to see if Skyfall, Daniel Craig’s forthcoming third turn around the deck of the good ship James Bond, recaptures 007’s movie mojo after the iffy Quantum of Solace and a protracted period in limbo. Mark O’Connell’s charming, witty memories of a young boy growing up and discovering Bond – and himself – is as good a way as any of whiling away the downtime until Sam Mendes unleashes his long-awaited big-screen vision of the exploits of the Secret Service’s most accomplished agent.

But who is this Mark O’Connell?  As well as being an accomplished and successful comedy writer, he’s the grandson of one Jimmy O’Connell who, for years, was the personal chauffeur to Cubby Broccoli, the legendary producer of the classic Bond movies at Eon Productions. Mark’s memoir isn’t a diary of film premiers, set visits and shoulder-rubbing with the stars; far from it. It’s actually the story of how a young boy growing up in the 1980s discovers James Bond courtesy of television broadcasts of the old films and stray VHS tapes picked up at local service stations. Occasionally his grandfather’s day job dovetails with young Mark’s burgeoning obsession – the odd exclusive poster or bit of gossip about in-production movies – but this is really the story of a voyage of discovery as Mark joins Bond on his adventures for the first (albeit not in chronological order) even as he discovers and explores his own sexuality. He also has an enduring ‘thing’ for actress Maud Adams.

In some ways Catching Bullets (O’Connell constantly refers to the Bond movies, not a little irritatingly occasionally, as ‘bullets’ which he ‘catches’ on TV when he can) is reminiscent of those old I Love the 1980s TV talk head clip shows. O’Connell’s first Bonds are Octopussy and A View To A Kill and, once captivated, he tracks back through the series via a collection of homely anecdotes about wolfed-down Christmas dinners when a new bond ‘bullet’ is screening post-Queen’s Speech, recording the films from the TV and ensuring the ad breaks are cut out, making imaginary film posters and illustrating scenes from favourite movies. Childhood nostalgia aside, O’Connell writes about these well-documented movies with wit and insight, positioning the films in the cultural/political landscape of the time they were made, enthusing over set design and music scores and, like most of us, grinning amiably at Roger Moore and his back-projected action sequences. Oh, and he finds time to nail the recurring clichés and motifs of the series whilst appreciating the finer points of the ‘Leon Lovelies’ (various non-leading ladies who often serve as window dressing in the Bonds and so named after legendary 1960s icon Valerie Leon – to Wikipedia with you!) Most refreshingly, he doesn’t feel the need to consign one-time Bond George Lazenby to the dumper of cinema history and champions ‘rogue bullet’ On Her Majesty’s Secret Service as one of the very best Bonds.

Well-written, thoughtful and intelligent, Mark’s book, with a foreword by long-time fan Mark Gatiss and an afterword by Maud Adams herself, is likely to jog memories as well as provoke passionate debate. Perfect bedside reading and just the right book to remind us all why we fell in love with Bond, James Bond, in the first place.

Review: King of Thorns / Author: Mark Lawrence / Publisher: Harper Voyager / Release Date: Out Now

Jorg Ancrath first stormed into bookshops last year in Mark Lawrence’s Prince of Thorns (if you haven’t read it, do so, then come back to this review) and was quickly hailed by many as fantasy’s greatest anti-hero. At only fourteen years of age, he led a bandit group, was a murderer and more. For us, the age stretched things a little too much, but despite that Prince of Thorns was a gripping and exciting read.

King of Thorns sees Jorg promoted in regal rank. He’s now 18, ruler of his own kingdom, haunted by the misdeeds of his past and about to be married.  His realm is under attack from the Prince of Arrow, a man working his way across the empire to take the throne, and Jorg has a castle and loyal subjects to protect and defend. This isn’t to say his status as anti-hero has changed, but Lawrence has added much depth to the character (depth this reviewer thought was missing in the first novel). Sure, Jorg’s still a bastard when he wants, but there are several moments when we see he has a heart, that there are others he genuinely cares about and even, in his own twisted way, loves.

Just as Jorg has matured, so too has Mark Lawrence’s writing. His descriptions can be short but are always strong, his punchy sentences enough to create the atmosphere in the reader’s mind, his tone alternating between utterly grim and downright amusing. King of Thorns has a superb plot – spanning a single day, while flashbacks reveal important events of the last four years – fast-paced, packed with twists and turns that deliver surprises and heart-breaking moments alike.

The author has created a world set hundreds of years after the destruction of the Builders, setting the book in an empire that that has risen from the ashes of nuclear holocaust. Technology and science still exist, but sparingly, as a dark magic to most; there are times when characters won’t know what an item is or does, but to the reader it’s extremely familiar. There’s a map of this empire for us to peruse, a twisted version of Europe, with some intelligently named locations.

Lawrence’s triumph, though, is Jorg. As narrator, it’s essential that the reader is able to sympathise with this young man, and the author pulls this off with great skill. Jorg is a man of contrasts, his voice ranging from callously flippant (sometimes when he is at his most violent) to thoughtful and introspective; his is a life of moments that can make the reader laugh out loud or wipe away a tear of sadness. He mourns the losses of friends and loved ones, and Lawrence’s writing ensuring the reader feels that pain too.

It’s not often a sequel surpasses the original, but in this second book of his Broken Empire series, Mark Lawrence has done just that. It’s impossible to put down, and will have you reading well into the night as it tugs at your emotions. Brutal, bloody and brilliant, King of Thorns is a simply stunning read.

Review: League of Strays / Author: L. B. Schulman / Publisher: Amulet Books / Release Date: October 1st

L.B. Schulman’s debut novel League of Strays appealed to this particular reviewer as it depicts the image of American High School life, which has been both glamorised and brutalised across American pop culture for as long as anyone can remember, from the perspective of the outsider, and what would happen if the outsiders decided to get even. And here is the result…

League Of Strays follows Charlotte, a new arrival at a high school who feels incredibly lonely; her best friend Sofie is miles away and losing interest in her, her rival Tiffany Miller has also moved into the area and Charlotte’s hair needs all the Frizz-Ease it can get. However, she then receives a note inviting her to a secret meeting of the League of Strays, an amalgamation of all the outsiders in high school, lead by Kade Harlin. So what follows is a campaign against the bullies that have done them wrong (students and teachers alike) but as the campaign grows darker and darker, will Charlotte be able to break out of the inner circle she’s got herself into?

For a first attempt at a novel, Schulman has pretty much nailed the knack of characterisation. The protagonist Charlotte is written in such a way that you see all the different sides of her personality. You see her naivety (she doesn’t realise her friend’s rabbit costume is actually a Playboy Bunny outfit) as well as her imperfections which can in some instances come across as quite charming (the repeated references to her frizzy hair are quite amusing). Kade is the other well rounded character in this novel; Schulman creates a level of mystery surrounding the proclaimed leader of the League of Strays, and comments from other characters suggest his reasons for such a society (‘his eye lashes that most girls would kill for’ was a personal favourite of mine).

There is also a balanced sense of humour within the novel, which relieves the sense of urgency and intensity in some chapters, such as Charlotte commenting on Prince being about as ‘hip’ as her mum (I must admit I laughed as I wasn’t aware the word was still in circulation!) and the comment of League member Zoe’s oatmeal and avocado face mask being compared to war paint is quite witty given the nature of the story.

However, I was greatly disappointed with some aspects of the book. Charlotte and Kade are characters that are so well written that you just don’t care about any of the other characters. Instead, they become these typical clichés such as Nora, the ‘science geek’ character, and Richie, the ‘in the closet’ character. Whilst Richie’s bullying at the hands of ‘jock’ character Dave is handled well and shows the homophobia rife in schools, the use of clichéd characters makes the plot predictable when there was a golden opportunity to challenge these supposed inevitabilities of American school life in an entertaining way.

Also, pace is problematic within League of Strays as well. You only have to read two chapters before Charlotte is invited to meet with the League of Strays; this proves problematic later on when some of the material is used to basically fill time and unnecessary; the book is 274 pages and could have easily been told more effectively in half that amount.

League of Strays can only be described as a learning curve for the author I feel. Schulman has tapped into a good idea, and creates two characters that work together as individuals, with that dash of measured humour every now and then which doesn’t upset the tone. However, Schulman must make the other characters more original if she wishes to avoid cries of ‘I’ve seen it done before’ and also the pace of the book needs to be slower so that the reader can get a stronger sense of the characters and the world they inhabit.