The Lies of Locke Lamora - Scott Lynch

In 2006, the fantasy genre welcomed the debut effort of Scott Lynch.  To almost unanimous praise, The Lies of Locke Lamora arrived, heralding the revival of something that the genre had been missing for a while.

Adventure.

Sure we've had our fair share of quests and epic showdowns.  Of romanticised worlds and quasi-European medievalism.  Of orphaned children taking on Kingdoms and Gods.  You see, somewhere along the way, someone took stock of what makes fantasy.  And the stock take showed a list of elements and plot devices that we're happy to trot out again and again.  Don't get me wrong, I believe the word derivative is overused when it comes to critiquing books.  In fact if you want to subscribe to Christopher Booker's theory, there may really only be seven stories to tell.  (I'll let you make your own mind up on that score.)  But this is also true: too often we forget what really lies at the heart of the fantasy genre.  The sense of wonder.  The feeling of adventure. In short, the fantastical.

And that is where Scott Lynch excels.

Now let's get a couple of things out of the way first.  Lynch's prose?  Great.  Clean.  Evocative. His dialogue?  Outstanding.  Both excellently written and always present in a way that serves the story.  Storytelling?  Second to none.

But here's what you really need to know.  Lynch is so good at all this, that he really doesn't need you to know it.  His greatest accomplishment as a writer is that he gets out of the way.  His sense of character is so well rounded that they drive the story more than any of the above.

What do you get when you read a Scott Lynch novel?  A feeling.  Too often I feel as though the science of writing is plain in what I'm reading.  I can appreciate it.  I can enjoy it, sometimes I can even marvel at the skill involved.  But what Lynch does as a writer, is remind you why you read. You're not impressed by his writing.  You're not overcome by his skill.  What you are, is in the story.

And the story?  Swashbuckling fun.  High adventure.  Wonder.  A rising sensation which is heightened along with the stakes, the feeling of a high stakes gambler who is fully invested in his hand.

Locke Lamora is someone you need to meet.  His story is an interesting one.  Raised by thieves in an extraordinary fellowship known as The Gentleman Bastards, he quickly becomes that part of the reader that exists in daydreams.  Profane.  Quick on his feet.  Dashing.  Daring.  And at the same time, all too fallible.  Too often becoming a caricature of himself, to his own detriment and downfall.

But here is the number one reason you need to get to know him.  Locke Lamora is the man who brought adventure back to fantasy.  Introduce yourself.  Have some fun.

My score - 9/10

Scott Lynch's Republic of Thieves Gets Publication Date

Exploding onto the scene in 2006 with his debut novel The Lies of Locke Lamora, Scott Lynch is widely regarded as one of the new innovators of the Fantasy world.  His follow up, Red Seas Under Red Skies was quite honestly, just as impressive.

With a style that is richly evocative and plot structures that unfold in the mind like a well told action-adventure movie, Lynch quickly had fans clamouring for more.  With a few road bumps along the way, Lynch has had to overcome some serious obstacles in the ensuing years, but it would appear that his perseverance has paid off.  Gollancz have announced that the third volume of Lynch's Gentleman Bastards series, The Republic of Thieves will land on October 8, 2013 in the U.S. and October 10, 2013 in the U.K.

If you've not had the opportunity to check out Scott Lynch's work, I recommend you do.  With a swashbuckling roguishness that is absent from many fantasy adventures.  It will satisfy an urge you hadn't even realised you had.

Vikings - the History channel

Looking for something to tide you over until the return of HBO's Game of Thrones on March 31?

Moving quickly to capitalise on the success of last years mini-series Hatfields & McCoys, the History channel have released Vikings, a historical drama which tells the tale of one of Scandinavian lore's most influential figures.  Created by the same people who brought The Tudors to the small screen, Vikings is sure to appeal to fans of Rome  and Game of Thrones.

Here's the official synopsis:

Vikings follows the adventures of Ragnar Lothbrok the greatest hero of his age. The series tells the sagas of Ragnar's band of Viking brothers and his family, as he rises to become King of the Viking tribes. As well as being a fearless warrior, Ragnar embodies the Norse traditions of devotion to the gods, legend has it that he was a direct descendant of Odin, the god of war and warriors.

Having watched the first three episodes, I highly recommend it.  With outstanding production values and attention to detail, Vikings is thoroughly entertaining genre fare. 

Vikings stars Travis Fimmel and Gabriel Byrne.

If you don't get the History channel, episodes 1-3 are currently available online at history.com

American Gods - Neil Gaiman

There are two authors I am particularly jealous of, and for identical reasons.

Their names?

China Mieville and Neil Gaiman.

Why?

To put it simply, they are so full of creativity, it just seems to leak out of them.  You see, most writers are human and have limits.  Whether they tell their stories in a sandbox world of their own creation, or in a more contemporary setting, the story itself demands most of the creative attention.

And then, there's Mieville and Gaiman.  With every novel they not only tell an original and compelling tale, but manage to create a completely new and broadly imaginative universe for that tale to unfold in.  Very rarely do they trot out the same setting.  Granted, creating one of these "sandboxes" as most fantasy authors do takes a lot of creativity, but to do it again and again?  To colour each new world with unique elements, great characters and cultures and technology? Creativity to spare.

My first introduction to such restrained and channelled delusion was Neil Gaiman's American Gods.  It's atmospheric.  Stylistic.  Downright weird, in a marvellous way.  Gaiman reminds the reader how important good prose is to the pacing of a story.  In American Gods, that prose is poetic when it needs to be, simple and restrained when it doesn't, and at all times, evocative. Which is just as well, because in this case, atmosphere is the most important element of the novel.  A dark, dreamlike, metaphysical weirdness pervades every particle of the story and if the prose was not up to the challenge of holding it all together, the book would fail.  Therein, perhaps, lies the reason that Gaiman is held in such high regard.  He is more than up to the challenge.

Following the story of ex-con Shadow upon his release from a federal prison, Gaiman leads the reader on a vivid journey through middle America.  Soon after taking a job as a bodyguard for the mysterious Mr. Wednesday however, Shadow finds himself caught up in a world where manifestations of ancient Gods walk the land.  Depleted in strength, these once powerful beings face extinction as the numbers of their believers and worshippers dwindle.  Wednesday, an avatar of Odin the All-Father, journeys across the continent in an attempt to recruit these ageing and waning gods for a final battle against the New American Gods - likewise, avatars of the modern world, referencing technology in particular but also the dangers of mass consumption and media.

Perhaps the greatest triumph of American Gods, is the manner in which these gods, both ancient and new, are portrayed.  Consistently boorish and aloof from the world around them, they are so invested in their own cause that they are ignorant of anything beyond it.  People rarely figure into their reasoning, if at all.  And while they may be out of touch, Gaiman is most certainly not.  His finger is on the pulse, in a way that only he could manage.  Well, other than China Mieville perhaps.

My score - 8.5/10

The Windup Girl - Paolo Bacigalupi

In the world of Speculative Fiction, there are award winning books and then there are award winning books which sweep all before them and make an impact across genres. Paolo Bacigalupi's 2009 work of art is one of the latter.

Evoking memories of genre masters Philip K. Dick and William Gibson, The Windup Girl creates a vivid and hauntingly plausible future against which a compellingly original tale is told.  A recipient of the 2009 Nebula Award and the 2010 Hugo Award (an honour it shared with China Mieville's The City and the City), Bacigalupi's novel also cracked TIME Magazine's top 10 works of fiction for 2009.

The Windup Girl  is set in the 23rd Century. In a world devoid of fossil fuels and largely submerged beneath rising ocean levels due to the effects of Global Warming, bio-engineered plagues sweep the globe. In Thailand, severe government regulations keep the nation separated from the rest of the world in an attempt to bypass the need to rely on calorie companies and their genehacked produce. The government employs brutally effective measures to protect the nation's food supplies from the dangers of mutated pests and diseases like blister rust and cibiscosis.

Against this startling and lucid backdrop, Bacigalupi introduces a cast of well-realised characters, including calorie company rep Anderson Lake, the windup girl Emiko (a bio-engineered humanoid organism), and disgraced military captain Jaidee Rojjanasukchai.

Throughout The Windup Girl, Bacigalupi uses an impressive combination of tight prose and well-paced action to tell a story of conspiracy, political corruption and global devastation which somehow manages to remain achingly human. Politically mature, and philosophically complex, The Windup Girl is the perfect mating of story and character.  In the words of Lev Grossman, it's ridiculous how good this book is.

Give it a go.

My score - 9.5/10

The Gone-Away World - Nick Harkaway

Books that genuinely surprise are rare these days.  Let's face it, we've seen just about every story, every trope and every plot device there is at this point.  The weight of all that's come before makes a surprising effort all the more difficult to come by.

Perhaps then, the only way to surprise these days is to write something that's absolutely bat-shit crazy.  Off the wall.

Allow me to introduce The Gone-Away World, the début novel from English author Nick Harkaway and one of the most surprising works of speculative fiction in recent times.

It's the tale of a world suffering from the devastation of the Go-Away War.  Where particles of matter left over from the war float around in storms which cause apparitions, hallucinations and the sub-creation of new and supposedly soulless people.  There's conspiracy.  There's adventure.  There are pirates and ninja-mimes.  There's a troupe of ex-special forces soldiers turned truckers known as the Haulage & HazMat Emergency Civil Freebooting Company of Exmoor County.  And trust me when I say, it's crazy.  It's off the rails, plain old nuts.

Funny, enthralling, and above all surprising, Harkaway's début effort is the sort of work which makes writer's jealous.  His obvious intelligence and mastery of humour, political savvy and philosophy shine through.  His use of language is entertaining, if at times convoluted.

If you can handle all that, then I dare you to read this book.  Invest the time and you'll be engaged, thrilled and delighted.  Sometimes all at once.  And just when you think you've nailed it down, this slippery, ambitious marvel of a book will surprise you again.

To be perfectly honest with you, my main concern with the novel is that Harkaway may have used up all of his creativity and his daringly silly ideas at once.  But that, after all, is not this book's problem.  It's also one I'll find the answer to when I dive into his sophomore effort, Angelmaker. Which I absolutely will.  With The Gone-Away World he earned it.

My score - 9/10

Shogun - James Clavell

Let me warn you right now, I have nothing bad to say about this book.

My opinion about James Clavell's Shogun has always been that it will go down as a classic piece of literature.  That it should be spoken about in the same breath as The Count of Monte Cristo, Moby Dick and The Hunchback of Notre Dame.  It's that grand.  It's exactly that compelling.  And for a fat novel running at around 1,200 pages, it's exhilarating in it's pacing and sense of adventure.

Set in feudal Japan, Clavell's masterpiece tells the story of English seaman John Blackthorne, Pilot-Major of the Dutch trader-warship Erasmus.  Far from home in uncharted waters, the Erasmus  is the last surviving ship in its fleet when it is driven by a furious storm onto the shores of Japan.  At a distinct cultural disadvantage, Blackthorne is soon caught up in the political machinations of the society and the rise of the daimyo Toronaga to the Japanese Shogunate.

Displaying a deft touch, Clavell's storytelling is flawless.  With an incredibly well realised cast of characters, Shogun weaves a compelling tale of ambition, of discovery, of love and adventure.  Charting Blackthorne's rise from foreigner to trusted advisor and political trading chip, the narrative arc is as impressive as they come, told as it is against a backdrop of religious tension, political ambition and the threat of civil war.

Shogun is one of the more ambitious works of fiction you'll find.  The novel misses nothing, touching on religious tensions, the ramifications for trade and culture of East meets West, and the dense social and political hierarchy of feudal Japan. None of it is over-explained, but it's existence is felt, creating a rich and compelling tapestry for the story, bringing an authenticity that is often missing from historical fictions.  But however high it reaches, Shogun never once falls short.

Above all, Clavell's tale is one that I consider a seminal piece of work, though in an interesting way.  While not necessarily the influence on political and historical fiction that it might have been, Shogun is however a major influence in the world of speculative fiction, particularly epic fantasy.

My score (predictably) - 10/10

A Memory of Light - Robert Jordan (Brandon Sanderson)

When I first discovered The Wheel of Time, it was something of a revelation for me.  The thought that someone could craft something so vast and then spend years telling the whole story.  Taking the time for a complete and rich profile of every character and weaving their relationships - and the effect of their relationships - so intimately with the story as it unfolded.  And the thought that someone could do it all, on this scale, without sacrificing pacing?  At the time it was mindblowing.

At least, for the first five volumes it was mindblowing.  To this day, those five volumes - beginning with The Eye of the World and ending with The Fires of Heaven - stand in my mind as a testament to one of the very best authors the fantasy genre has ever seen: Robert Jordan.  It was at that point though, that people began to grumble.  Pacing did suffer.  And while one or two volumes fell short of the mark, on the whole the series continued to stand tall.  It stood tall on the back of its characters, the rich and complex world and the most consistent system of magic the genre has seen.

Now all this is background.  But it's necessary, to understand how torn I am over the final instalment of The Wheel of Time.  Like the previous two volumes, A Memory of Light was penned by Brandon Sanderson, who most will know was hand picked by Robert Jordan and his wife Harriet to conclude the saga upon Jordan's death.  Not only a monumental honour, but an incredibly difficult task.

The Wheel of Time has sold well over 30 million copies worldwide and has a rabid, devoted following.  The conclusion of the series has been debated and speculated over for years.

Brandon Sanderson - bravest author in the world?  Possibly.  And for that he has my respect.

But A Memory of Light?  I did not enjoy it.  Good novels have texture.  This had none.  Two-thirds of the novel is a running battle, giving the novel a tone that does not shift.  Sanderson, unfortunately fails to create a narrative within these battle sequences, which results in them feeling hollow and pointless, in spite of the fact that we understand what's at stake.

That reason alone, would be enough to put me off.  I kept reading because I love the characters.  I needed to know how things would resolve.  It almost wasn't enough.  Because the characters I know, do not behave like themselves when written by Sanderson.  While Robert Jordan's characterisations were never off, Sanderson has people doing things and thinking things that continually ring false.

But here's the thing.  The Wheel of Time is one of the very best series the genre has ever seen. Maybe will ever see.  If you made it this far, don't let me dissuade you at all.  Because when I stand back and look at the  narrative arc as a whole, I'm satisfied.

I'm satisfied with the conclusion of the story.  I didn't necessarily enjoy how it got there and I have major problems with things that were brushed over in the midst of 700 pages worth of inane battle sequences, but the resolution of Jordan's saga did not let me down.

The short of it all is that The Wheel of Time gets a 9/10.  A Memory of Light on the other hand?

My score - 6/10

The Daylight War - Peter V. Brett

Enough has been said about Peter Brett's entrance into the Speculative Fiction world that I'll leave it alone.  There's not a lot that I can add.  But if you're interested in learning more, then here is a good place to start.

Let it be said that I am a big admirer of the author, as I am of most self-made people.  On the other hand, I find myself let down in many respects by his latest work, The Daylight War.  After the impressive début that was The Painted Man, I had high hopes for the development of The Demon Cycle.  And while Brett's sophomore effort, The Desert Spear had its detractors, it was a book I found to be a worthy successor.

Unfortunately, The Daylight War falls into many of the same traps as The Desert Spear, and this time, those mistakes are beginning to drag at the narrative.  As in it's predecessor, The Daylight War takes the reader back to the desert to cover past events, gradually leading us back into the present.  This is where, for me, many of the book's problems exist.  It's an eight hundred page novel; pacing is important.  And while I was willing to go along with the technique previously to learn the background and origins of Ahmann Jardir - one of two main protagonists in the series -  I found it maddening to be reading many of the same events from a third perspective here.  The fact that they are seen through the eyes of a secondary character only heightens the sense of redundancy.  In short, it has a terrible effect on the pacing of the novel.

One of the fiercest criticisms of Brett is his portrayal of women and the use of sexual perversions such as rape as a plot device.  And honestly, while I didn't mind so much in The Desert Spear, it's becoming increasingly uncomfortable to read.  I get what he is doing.  The stale and religiously indoctrinated Krasian society is about to be put through a crucible, which will more than likely force them to confront their values.  It's a fine line to tread, but one that I felt he lost control of here.

But perhaps my biggest problem with this latest volume was that it reads increasingly like a poorer cousin of Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time.  While I love The Wheel of Time, I feel that Brett is in danger of losing his own voice.

Brett's prose, while simple, is effective.  His characters are interesting and well realised.  His concept is an enjoyable one, supplying some good, fun action beats.  His dialogue on the other hand, is terrible.  Bad enough that I'd actually prefer more exposition.

In short, The Daylight War is a book for people who are already fans of the series and of Brett's writing.  It is not a book that will win him any new fans.  And if The Wheel of Time  comparison is an apt one, then let's hope that this is Peter V. Brett's Crossroads of Twilight.  Unfortunately that's the only solace I can find.

My score - 6.5/10

Getting With the Times.

To date it's all been reviews of some of my more memorable reads, direct from my personal library.  That will continue as I try to build content, but I figured it's time to start with some more recent material.  So today I have picked up a copy of Peter V. Brett's The Daylight War.  It's one of the more anticipated releases for the year, so I'll power through it and pass on my thoughts.

For those who don't know, The Daylight War is volume 3 of Brett's Demon Cycle, which tells the tale of a once thriving world, laid low by the attacks of Demons known as Corelings.  With the art of warding (magically endowed runes which arm people against Demons) lost, humanity is forced to hide behind lesser wards of defence every night.

The series follows three main characters: Arlen, Leesha and Rojer, with points of views from other characters - most notably Ahmann Jardir who takes upon himself the title of Deliverer.

Stay tuned and I'll endeavour to have my review up ASAP.

The Gunslinger - Stephen King

Some books, despite their reputation, are mistreated by readers.

By readers I mean me.  The book was Stephen King's The Gunslinger.  Ignoring the reverent following it's garnered since release in 1982 and the countless recommendations from people who's opinions I respect, The Gunslinger sat untouched on the to-read pile for years.  Collecting dust instead of my attention and respect.

I'd love to say that this was something I quickly rectified, but the truth is I read The Gunslinger in 2012.

Criminal.

The most surprising part of all this is The Gunslinger possesses many of the traits which I most appreciate in a story.  Consistent characterisations and a well crafted sense of tone and atmosphere.  A compelling sense of "What's next?".  A simplicity of prose to remind us that writing is not a contest.

If any criticism of The Gunslinger is valid, it would be this; Roland Deschain, the titular character, is a distant protagonist.  He is so self-assured in his purpose that there is little room to explore his motivation.  But this is Stephen King.  Wielding a sharp sense of timing and story progression, King provides us with just enough, at just the right moment in time to keep us turning the pages.  Through a series of flashbacks Roland's past is revealed and the reader is given an understanding of what it is that drives him forward to the point where nothing will turn him from his goal, least of all humanitarian concerns.

It's a tight rope to walk.  The sort of single-minded focus and lack of moral ambiguity that can turn a reader against a protagonist.  But again, this is Stephen King.  A storyteller of the highest order.  The bleak outlook and the harsh tone of the world (and ultimately the series) is balanced by King's masterful characterisations, which he uses to create in Roland of Gilead and the Man in Black avatars of morality.  And as avatars, there is no room for ambiguity.  Consistency is key, or the Gunslinger himself would ring false.

There are many ways to judge a book when looking to rate it.  Prose.  Characterisation.  Story.  Atmosphere. Consistency.  I look at all these things.  And with a book like this, it is very difficult to remove "points" in any of those categories.  So I won't.

Understand, this is not my favourite book - though it does stand quite high.  But for what it is, it is perfect.  It is, intrinsically, flawless.  And for that reason...

My score - 10/10

Quicksilver - Neal Stephenson

Let's be clear about something: Neal Stephenson is probably smarter than you.

One look at his back-catalogue and you'll see the impressive array of his undertakings to date.  His cyberpunk novel Snow Crash, now considered a classic in many circles, was a visionary meshing of virtual reality and Sumerian myth.  Yes, you read that correctly.  It's the sort of thing you come to expect from him.  He's examined Quantum computers, nanotechnology, life as software, code decryption from the World Wars, and online multiplayer gaming.  He's constructed entire civilisations with their own science and philosophy.  And in every instance, Stephenson has managed to construct a compelling narrative.

I mention all of this in an attempt to relate the scope of Stephenson's imagination.  It's no surprise then, when I tell you that the Baroque Cycle is perhaps one of the most ambitious works of speculative fiction you'll find on the market today.

An examination of the history of the world, Quicksilver includes in it's cast of characters Isaac Newton, Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz, Robert Hooke, William of Orange and many other influential characters from history.

It's a history text which examines the formation and proliferation of some of the world's most important scientific theories.  The inner workings of some of the world's most influential political events.  The history and evolution of religion and its place in the world.  Witness the birth of calculus, the creation of the reflective telescope, the romantic notions of the Royal Society of Fellows toward alchemy and dare I say it, the system of the world.

All of these events are told through the eyes of Isaac Newton's friend and room mate Daniel Waterhouse, the vagabond Jack Shaftoe and a virgin slave turned Duchess and spy, Eliza .

Stephenson, with his flawless prose and his flair for humour, knows exactly when to lighten the mood, when to raise the stakes and when to exercise a little self-mockery.

By no means however, should you consider this an easy read.  About a third of the way in you'll think to yourself:  It's demanding.  It's weighty.  It's intimidating.  It's all of these at once.  At this point, Quicksilver is a difficult beast to master.  But fear not, because help is on the way - in the form of Half-cocked Jack Shaftoe, an old world thief and vagabond of the highest order.  It's at this point that Quicksilver becomes fun.  Now you're reading something weighty and dense and intelligent that is also exciting, romanticised and excitingly, romantically funny.  It's a riot.  It's rewarding.  It's spectacular.

And all of this comes just in time, because if it hadn't, then quite honestly I may have missed the ride.  Because waiting on the other side of Quicksilver is volume 2 of the Baroque Cycle, The Confusion.  You see, in reviewing Quicksilver, The Confusion may be its biggest drawback.  Because while Quicksilver is a great set-up for what is the most imaginatively ambitious and complex series I've ever read, it is at the end of the day, just that.  A set-up.  A thousand page set-up to what I consider a 10/10 book (The Confusion)

So while I would give the Baroque Cycle itself a 9/10 and tell you that it left me in absolute awe of Stephenson's skill as a story-teller, author and researcher, I've also got to be honest and tell you that Quicksilver, although great, is the weakest of the series.  Of course - relatively speaking.

My score - 8/10

The Name of the Wind - Patrick Rothfuss

A growing trend in the world of Speculative Fiction is the tendency of publishers to hype something as the best début novel of the year.  It's a tough billing to live up to.  More than once I've bought into the hype as a lover of the genre, only to be disappointed.

So imagine my trepidation upon picking up a début novel in 2007 which DAW books president Betsy Wollheim called the best Fantasy début she's read in over thirty years.  Big, big call.  Let me rattle off some Spec Fiction débuts which were released during this period of time.  Lord Foul's Bane by Stephen R. Donaldson, Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin, Gardens of the Moon by Steven Erikson, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, Neuromancer by William Gibson, The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan, Magician by Raymond E. Feist - I really could go on, but I imagine you get the point.

Now whether or not The Name of the Wind  by Patrick Rothfuss lives up to such high praise, suffice to say that it is an impressive début which set the genre alight upon its release.  So rather then tackle the question of its supremacy when matched against the seminal works listed above, I'd like to tackle the content of Rothfuss' début in a different light.

In the same year The Name of the Wind was published by DAW books (2007), Filmmaker J.J. Abrams stood before an audience in Monterey, California and delivered a TED talk which gained a lot of attention - The Mystery Box.  His premise was actually quite simple.  Referencing a magician's mystery box he'd received as a child, Abrams spoke about how his love of mystery meant that some thirty years later, the box remained unopened.  The theme of his talk was how the idea of the mystery box is something that continually influences Abrams as a filmmaker.

And it's in this light that I want to examine The Name of the Wind.  Why?  Because curiosity is one of the main reasons people pick up a book.  What lies between the front and back cover is a mystery.  What keeps the pages turning is the mystery of needing to know what happens next.  And the sense of mystery which pervades The Name of the Wind is undeniable.  Mystery Boxes abound.

Who is Kote?  It becomes apparent right from the start that the seemingly ho-hum proprietor of a backwater inn is more than he seems.  This is something we need answered.  And when a travelling historian recognises the true face of the man, alluding to tales of legend?  Well, we simply must know more.

Who is Kvothe? Okay, so Kote the innkeeper is really the Kvothe of legend.  The Kingkiller.  Kvothe the Bloodless.  A figure of almost mythic status who can speak the name of the wind.  From the blurb:  I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings.  I burned down the town of Trebon.  I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life.  I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in.  I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during the day.  I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that will make the minstrels weep.  My name is Kvothe.  You may have heard of me.

These are stories of legend.  But what is the real story?  The true tale of a man who could rise to such notoriety?  This is not only a mystery box, but the premise of the book itself, if not the series.  At the heart of every legend there is truth.  Legends are things devoid of motivation and emotion.  People - and therefore the real stories which seed legends - are not.

Who are the Chandrian?  When we learn very early on, that Kvothe's family and travelling community of performers were slaughtered by a horde of bogey-men straight out of legend and myth, we discover some of his motivations.  It's a vital impetus in his personal journey, driving him forward in his search for knowledge.  But who are the Chandrian?  Rothfuss does a wonderful job of continually weaving what little we know about them with the history and legend of his world.  It suggests depth.  It raises the overarching stakes of the larger story.  It leaves us wanting to know more.


With The Name of the Wind - and the Kingkiller Chronicles to which it belongs - Pat Rothfuss has attempted something daring.  He has written a story about stories.  About how they grow beyond the telling.

Does it work?  Absolutely.  Right from the opening passage, it is apparent that Rothfuss is a master of the English language.  His prose it effortless and unobtrusive.  His ability to tell a story is second to none.  His use of the mystery keeps the reader turning pages obsessively.  The Name of the Wind is one of the best début Speculative Fiction novels I've read.  The best début of the last thirty-odd years?  I'll let you decide.

My score - 9/10

Deadhouse Gates - Steven Erikson

There is one word you need to know before picking up anything by Steven Erikson.

Convergence.

Allow me to explain.

From the moment he hit the scene with Gardens of the Moon, the first volume in the epic Malazan Book of the Fallen, Erikson has developed a reputation for dumping his readers in the middle of the story.  In fact, it can be argued that the entire series begins in the middle of the story - with the expansive history of Erikson's world evident right from the start.

But no matter how broad in scope, no matter how little you think you know at the beginning of the tale, Erikson is always in absolute control of his story.  Not once throughout the Malazan Book of the Fallen, does he fail to bring it all together in a compelling and exhilarating manner.

But it may be Erikson's second offering, Deadhouse Gates, in which he first showed hints of such mastery.  Following on from the critically acclaimed Gardens, the sophomore effort shows a more controlled narrative, allowing the work to stand alone in its own right.  As with all of his volumes, the pay off, yes the convergence of all the seemingly disparate story threads, is more than worth the investment of your time.

Here's the blurb:

In the Holy Desert Raraku, the seer Sha'ik and her followers prepare for the long-prophesied uprising named the Whirlwind.  Enslaved in the Otataral mines, Felisin, youngest scion of the disgraced House of Paran, dreams of freedom and vows revenge, while the outlawed Bridgeburners Fiddler and Kalam conspire to rid the world of Empress Laseen (although it seems the gods would, as always, have it otherwise).  And as two ancient warriors - bearers of a devastating secret - enter this blighted land, so an untried commander of the Malaz 7th Army leads his war-weary troops in a last, valiant running battle to save the lives of thirty thousand refugees.

In spite of the fact that Erikson introduces a spate of new characters while simultaneously fracturing the Bridgeburners - who were central to Gardens of the Moon - his skill with characterisation soon has you on board with the new cast.  Displaying an uncompromising sense of characterisation which seems to come straight from the Stephen Donaldson school of thought, the reader has no choice but to feel a strong connection with the characters and their motivations.  The personal stakes are never in doubt.

But perhaps the most impressive thing about Deadhouse Gates is Erikson's masterful management of a plot that could easily have spun out of control in the hands of a lesser author.  

As the sub-continent falls to the Whirlwind, Malazan citizens are murdered and the people of the Seven Cities rise up to purge the region of the Empire's yoke.  With an ailing and vastly outnumbered army, the former Governor of Hissar, the Wickan General Coltaine, leads close to fifty thousand refugees across the desert to the only remaining Malazan stronghold; Aren.  This leads to one of the most memorable sequences in modern epic fantasy, the Chain of Dogs, and it's around this phenomenally well written sequence that the rest of the cast fleshes out one of the most ambitious story arcs ever attempted. 

All in all, what Erikson does with Deadhouse Gates, is elevate.  The scope.  The stakes.  And the bar.  With skilful prose, thoughtful and consistent characterisation and incredibly well executed action scenes, Deadhouse Gates stands as one of the best fantasy stories I have ever read.  Erikson displays a master's touch, while affording the reader an early glimpse into the mind-boggling scope of his plans for the series.

My score - 9.5/10

The Notorious Opener

So it's time for the notoriously awkward first post.

Consider it a place holder.  A necessary evil on the way to the all important second post, which will no doubt be all business.

Awkwardness aside, let's get down to brass tacks.  As the bio says, I'm a sucker for a good story.  Not just speculative fiction either.  So why a spec fiction blog?  At the end of the day, I'm a nerd.  And there's something about stepping into the "other" which just excites me.

That may be all you need to know - other than the obvious.  Yes, I'm a voracious reader.  Yes, I grew up on the fantasy staples of Tolkien, Lewis, White, Donaldson etc.   Yes, I'm bursting with my need to share it all with you.  And you know what?  Given that this is a new blog, by the time anyone visits, this post will be buried in the archives.  So none of that even matters.

Onwards.