One of the reasons people try to revoke my gay card is that I proudly announce that I really don't like Sondheim. I find much of his music and musicals trite and annoying, There is one he wrote that I did enjoy though... Into the Woods. Even then, I'm not sure it was the musical itself as much as the plot that made me like it. (Because, really, I almost walked out after the first act. Then the second act started and I was all like, "OK, I kind of like the idea, even if the execution sucks.")
For those who've never seen it, the First act is a retelling of several fairy tales. The second act...well, the narrator dies and suddenly, the characters no longer have any guides to what they're supposed to be doing.
Like I said, loved the idea.
I bring this up, because a similar idea is at play in Death's Apprentice, what is evidently the first book in K. W. Jeter and Gareth Jefferson Jones' new Grimm City series. According to what's available on the book jacket and in blurbs, the unnamed city the book is set in is supposed to based on all of the Grimm Fairytales and other writings by the Bros. Interestingly, while I recognized elements that might have been part of a Fairytale at one point or another, the only out and out storyline I actually recognized in this was Rumpelstiltskin.
We start with Nathaniel, Death's Apprentice. Nathaniel's dad sold him to Death at a very young age in exchange for 10 more years of life. Sadly, daddy sobered up, realized what he did, and jumped off a bridge. Anyway, after witnessing Death claim the soul of a drug addled lawyer in a nightclub bathroom, Nathaniel passes out in pain.
Then we meet Blake, who's come to the nameless city, seeking The Devil. Blake's looking to pay back Lucifer for a rather nasty trick the devil played on him in Afghanistan that ended with Hank getting trapped in the Devil's Overcoat. Said coat more or less makes Hank immortal, although Hank can be wounded quite severely.
And Hank, who gets hired by a dwarf lawyer who works for Lucifer. (Don't they all?) Hank is a man with no fear, making him a fairly unstoppable hit man. Hank gets hired to kill the 3 champions prophesied to kill Lucifer. This gives him carte blanche to pretty much kill anyone he wants.
Lucifer himself sits atop a large tower in the center of town, refusing to extend people's contracts and generally proving Milton right again. (Which is to say Lucifer is probably the most interesting character in this.)
The stories coalesce around a woman who made a deal with the dwarf to get answers to her law exam to make her parents happy. The dwarf ends up stealing her baby. (Not exactly spinning straw into gold, but...)
This is one of those books I finished and felt really at odds about what to think. There's a lot of Christian allegory in here (not quite as obvious as say, Left Behind, but still present in a Narnia type way), and there's also a lot of fate vs. free will discussion, particularly towards the end. There are also a few parts that feel like The Seventh Seal.
By the time I finished and found out what the heck the point of all of this was, I felt cheated in some ways, although there really was no other solution to the whole mess.
Interesting read, but you may want to bookmark a page with the Grimm tales for reference.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Fhtagn
(Note: This is a concurrent post with Candy-Coated Razor Blades by my friend Bob. He's covering movies. I'm covering the writing.)
That is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange aeons even death may die.
I'll confess, I'm a Cthulhu groupie. (There used to be cultists, but since Cthulhu went mainstream... It used to be one had go diving beneath the waters or go hit up profane cults in isolated places to get icons. These days, one can go to a store and buy all the iconography you want of he who lies dreaming.)
I'll also confess I'm not fond of H. P. Lovecraft's writing. It's a bit like reading Hawthorne, if Hawthorne had Hester giving birth to alien babies after Dimmesdale himself found out he was a hybrid of normal isolated New Englanders and underwater fish people.
(This must just be a Southern New England thing. Writers from Northern New England tend to write like a tabloid reporter. "Captain Trips is taking out 99.4% of the world's population, and Frannie's pregnant!!")
Lovecraft is quite a bit like Bob Dylan. I much prefer his stuff when it's done by someone else.
(I'll be citing examples here in a sec.)
But, the real reason I'm writing this has to do with The Lovecraft Anthology Vol. 1, edited by Dan Lockwood, that turns HP Lovecraft's words into illustrated graphic novels. Or graphic short stories, to be more precise. This particular collection includes " The Call of Cthulhu", " "The Haunter of the Dark", "The Dunwich Horror", "The Colour Out of Space", "The Shadow Over Innsmouth", "The Rats in the Walls", and "Dagon". It makes Lovecraft's words much more accessible to the readers who may have run across Cthulhu in other places and tried to find the source.
But then, based on what I've read, Lovecraft never really set his pantheon in stone, preferring to use it as background noise, for lack of a better term. What does emerge from what he wrote (usually based around Arkham, Massachusetts, or Miskatonic University, or some isolated New England backwater) is the idea of the Outer Ones (Like Azathoth, the blind idiot god at the center of the universe), Great Old Ones (like Cthulhu, sunken in his house at R'lyeh), and lesser horrors (The shoggoths, more or less used as slave labor and the Mi-go, who either worship Nyarlathotep or are at war with the elder gods. Given how many people who have worked in the mythos, this kind of confusion is bound to arise. However, just keep in mind that this is like Alien vs. Predator. Whoever wins, we lose.)
We also have what generally remains a pattern in Lovecraft's fiction. The narrator reads someone else's mad ravings, investigates, then goes mad himself. Mind you, if I, like our narrator in "At the Mountains of Madness" ran across 5 foot tall penguins being used as cattle for either the shoggoths or Cthulhu himself, I think I might go a little mad as well.
Cthulhu has become a cultural icon of sorts the farther from the original writings we get. From the RPGs The Call of Cthulhu and Cthulhu Tech to movies, books and graphic novels...
Cthulhu shows up briefly in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: Black Dossier. Cthulhu shows up fighting beat poets in Nick Mamatas's Move Under Ground. An entire graphic novel series entitled The Fall of Cthulhu concerns The Harlot fighting Nyarlathotep as the latter tries to wake up Cthulhu.
We have Brian Lumley's non-vampire series concerning the Dreamlands. (I liked these a bit better than Necroscope. That one got a bit confusing after a while, what with time travel, psychics, vampire planets and all. Fun to read, but I really needed a damn flow chart to keep up with it.)
There's also Mick Ferrin's very wonderful Victor Renquist Quartet, where Cthulhu shows up in Book 2, Darklost. In that appearance, Cthulhu ties in with the vampire mythos Ferrin created as something of an enforcer the Nephilim created to keep the Nosferatu in line. Mind you, Merlin shows up in book 3, and book 4 concerns Nazis in the Hollow Earth, but the series itself is a wonderful read. The vampires aren't mindless antagonists, nor are they Twilight sparklers. (Seriously. Find copies of The Time of Feasting and keep reading.)
If you like a little humor with your insanity inspiring pantheon, there's The Eldritch Pastiche From Beyond the Shadow of Horror by Christopher Welch (from the Blood Lite anthology. This one gets a shout out, since I've felt much like the narrator on more than a few occasions.)
There's even a Dr. Seuss version of Cthulhu out there.
And of course, more recently, there's The Six Gun Tarot by R. S. Belcher, which I reviewed previously on here.
In all honesty, as bad as his writing is, H.P. Lovecraft's influence is felt far and wide in contemporary horror. And really, if you can find a good introduction, the writing gets easier to plow through.
I leave you and your sanity with the following.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.
That is not dead which can eternal lie.
And with strange aeons even death may die.
I'll confess, I'm a Cthulhu groupie. (There used to be cultists, but since Cthulhu went mainstream... It used to be one had go diving beneath the waters or go hit up profane cults in isolated places to get icons. These days, one can go to a store and buy all the iconography you want of he who lies dreaming.)
Like this.
Or this.
I'll also confess I'm not fond of H. P. Lovecraft's writing. It's a bit like reading Hawthorne, if Hawthorne had Hester giving birth to alien babies after Dimmesdale himself found out he was a hybrid of normal isolated New Englanders and underwater fish people.
Seriously. That's Baby Pearl up there.
(This must just be a Southern New England thing. Writers from Northern New England tend to write like a tabloid reporter. "Captain Trips is taking out 99.4% of the world's population, and Frannie's pregnant!!")
Lovecraft is quite a bit like Bob Dylan. I much prefer his stuff when it's done by someone else.
(I'll be citing examples here in a sec.)
But, the real reason I'm writing this has to do with The Lovecraft Anthology Vol. 1, edited by Dan Lockwood, that turns HP Lovecraft's words into illustrated graphic novels. Or graphic short stories, to be more precise. This particular collection includes " The Call of Cthulhu", " "The Haunter of the Dark", "The Dunwich Horror", "The Colour Out of Space", "The Shadow Over Innsmouth", "The Rats in the Walls", and "Dagon". It makes Lovecraft's words much more accessible to the readers who may have run across Cthulhu in other places and tried to find the source.
But then, based on what I've read, Lovecraft never really set his pantheon in stone, preferring to use it as background noise, for lack of a better term. What does emerge from what he wrote (usually based around Arkham, Massachusetts, or Miskatonic University, or some isolated New England backwater) is the idea of the Outer Ones (Like Azathoth, the blind idiot god at the center of the universe), Great Old Ones (like Cthulhu, sunken in his house at R'lyeh), and lesser horrors (The shoggoths, more or less used as slave labor and the Mi-go, who either worship Nyarlathotep or are at war with the elder gods. Given how many people who have worked in the mythos, this kind of confusion is bound to arise. However, just keep in mind that this is like Alien vs. Predator. Whoever wins, we lose.)
We also have what generally remains a pattern in Lovecraft's fiction. The narrator reads someone else's mad ravings, investigates, then goes mad himself. Mind you, if I, like our narrator in "At the Mountains of Madness" ran across 5 foot tall penguins being used as cattle for either the shoggoths or Cthulhu himself, I think I might go a little mad as well.
Cthulhu has become a cultural icon of sorts the farther from the original writings we get. From the RPGs The Call of Cthulhu and Cthulhu Tech to movies, books and graphic novels...
Cthulhu shows up briefly in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: Black Dossier. Cthulhu shows up fighting beat poets in Nick Mamatas's Move Under Ground. An entire graphic novel series entitled The Fall of Cthulhu concerns The Harlot fighting Nyarlathotep as the latter tries to wake up Cthulhu.
We have Brian Lumley's non-vampire series concerning the Dreamlands. (I liked these a bit better than Necroscope. That one got a bit confusing after a while, what with time travel, psychics, vampire planets and all. Fun to read, but I really needed a damn flow chart to keep up with it.)
There's also Mick Ferrin's very wonderful Victor Renquist Quartet, where Cthulhu shows up in Book 2, Darklost. In that appearance, Cthulhu ties in with the vampire mythos Ferrin created as something of an enforcer the Nephilim created to keep the Nosferatu in line. Mind you, Merlin shows up in book 3, and book 4 concerns Nazis in the Hollow Earth, but the series itself is a wonderful read. The vampires aren't mindless antagonists, nor are they Twilight sparklers. (Seriously. Find copies of The Time of Feasting and keep reading.)
If you like a little humor with your insanity inspiring pantheon, there's The Eldritch Pastiche From Beyond the Shadow of Horror by Christopher Welch (from the Blood Lite anthology. This one gets a shout out, since I've felt much like the narrator on more than a few occasions.)
There's even a Dr. Seuss version of Cthulhu out there.
And of course, more recently, there's The Six Gun Tarot by R. S. Belcher, which I reviewed previously on here.
In all honesty, as bad as his writing is, H.P. Lovecraft's influence is felt far and wide in contemporary horror. And really, if you can find a good introduction, the writing gets easier to plow through.
I leave you and your sanity with the following.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.
In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Why anyone would live in small town Maine is beyond me.
If fiction is to be believed, coastal Maine has a very high homicide rate.
Which brings us to Leslie Meier, who's Lucy stone seems to stumble into a murder on almost every holiday.
In this case, Easter.
Easter Bunny Murder is the 21st book in the rather long lived cozy mystery series. Lucy, her husband, and 2 of their 4 children live in the same house in the outskirts of Tinker's Cove, Maine, that they lived in way back in Mistletoe Murder. (One child now lives with his wife in a subdivision not far from Lucy, the other child not at home lives in Florida.)As we open on the week before Easter, Lucy is taking her grandson to the annual Easter Egg hunt at the Pine Point Estate. Only to watch the Easter bunny come out, fall down, and die in front of all the children.
What follows is a really ugly story of elder abuse (already covered once in an earlier book, but here warned about in terms of identity thieves posing as lost heirs [and no, that has nothing to do with the plot. Due to the central abuse going on, Lucy ends up discussing other forms of abuse]), families squabbling over inheritance, and two accidents that Lucy are convinced are homicides.
As in most of these Holiday murder books, the plot is fairly straightforward, with a look at a particular social issue tucked in with the older reader in mind. (I'm under the impression that a 30something gay man is NOT the target audience. I am, however, a sucker for a decent mystery, and I've held on for 21 of these bloody things.) And, really, after 21 mysteries with only one really going well far afield (New Year's Eve Murder, in which we wound up with Jessica Fletcher meets Phillip K. Dick), it's not a bad way to spend a few hours. Lucy's fairly likable, and several of the books include recipes for the holiday involved. (I do not recommend the one for the cookies made with Cool Whip, though.)
Oh yes. Tune in Wednesday for a special event as Bob from Candy-coated Razor Blades and I do a trope crossover.
Which brings us to Leslie Meier, who's Lucy stone seems to stumble into a murder on almost every holiday.
In this case, Easter.
Easter Bunny Murder is the 21st book in the rather long lived cozy mystery series. Lucy, her husband, and 2 of their 4 children live in the same house in the outskirts of Tinker's Cove, Maine, that they lived in way back in Mistletoe Murder. (One child now lives with his wife in a subdivision not far from Lucy, the other child not at home lives in Florida.)As we open on the week before Easter, Lucy is taking her grandson to the annual Easter Egg hunt at the Pine Point Estate. Only to watch the Easter bunny come out, fall down, and die in front of all the children.
What follows is a really ugly story of elder abuse (already covered once in an earlier book, but here warned about in terms of identity thieves posing as lost heirs [and no, that has nothing to do with the plot. Due to the central abuse going on, Lucy ends up discussing other forms of abuse]), families squabbling over inheritance, and two accidents that Lucy are convinced are homicides.
As in most of these Holiday murder books, the plot is fairly straightforward, with a look at a particular social issue tucked in with the older reader in mind. (I'm under the impression that a 30something gay man is NOT the target audience. I am, however, a sucker for a decent mystery, and I've held on for 21 of these bloody things.) And, really, after 21 mysteries with only one really going well far afield (New Year's Eve Murder, in which we wound up with Jessica Fletcher meets Phillip K. Dick), it's not a bad way to spend a few hours. Lucy's fairly likable, and several of the books include recipes for the holiday involved. (I do not recommend the one for the cookies made with Cool Whip, though.)
Oh yes. Tune in Wednesday for a special event as Bob from Candy-coated Razor Blades and I do a trope crossover.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Bon Temps roulez
For those of you who watch True Blood, I'm sure you're aware that the series is based on books, but given how much of what goes on the show came from somewhere other than the book... (Billith? Really?)
I'll admit, what I've seen of the show is good, which admittedly is about 3 episodes from the first 2 seasons. (I haven't really watched Showtime since Queer As Folk, and even then, I wound up having to download the last season or 2 just to find out what was going on.)
From what I've seen, about the only TV show that's remaining fairly faithful to the source material is Game of Thrones on HBO, and maybe The Walking Dead on AMC. (The latter did a switch up on one of the bigger surprises in the books though.) (I also won't mention Lifetime's adaptions of Blood Ties based on Tanya Huff that ignored the fact the vampire was bisexual in the books or SciFi's The Dresden Files that only ever got into the source material for one midseason episode.)
None of which is really related to Dead Ever After by Charlaine Harris (aka the next to last Sookie Stackhouse book, although the last one is aupposed to be more or less an extended epilogue). I just tend to go off on tangents occasionally.
There have been some rather ugly accusations leveled at Ms. Harris about how unenlightened and sexist Sookie is, but really, it rather fits the character. Sookie is at heart, a fairly sheltered white trash woman in a remote part of Louisiana. To expect that kind of character to behave like an urbane socialite would be rather silly. Even if Sookie has dated just about every kind of "super" in the universe. (Vampires, shifters, weres...don't think she dated a fairie, mainly because most of the ones in the books were relations...)
Anyway.
This, the latest book, starts off in Mexico with some plotting to get a major artifact from Sookie that got used in the last book, the Cluvial Dor. Mainly, it involves the father of a recurring character and his bodyguard selling their souls to a devil (not The Devil, he rarely goes above ground anymore). When they find out the artifact is no more, it instead sets off a rather convoluted plot to get revenge on Sookie.
Sookie, completely clueless to all of this, is dealing with the aftermath of using the Cluvial Dor. Namely, Eric moving to Oklahoma, and Sam (her boss who turns into a collie on occasion) being alive and not being all that talkative with her.
What follows is almost like the Quantum Leap series finale, wherein just about every character who's appeared in the series but hasn't died, makes a cameo at the very least. Arlene, last seen going to prison for trying to get Sookie crucified for her choices in supernatural bed partners, get released by the conspirators and tries to get a job at Merlotte's, the bar Sookie works at and partially owns. Needless to say, she doesn't get her job back, and in fact gets found garotted with Sookie's scarf in Merlotte's dumpster the next morning.
Which of course ends up getting Sookie arrested on murder charges. Making it more akin to the Seinfeld series finale, actually.
Anyway, with Sookie out on bail (paid by Eric, who of course has a few ulterior motives), many recurring characters show up to help clear Sookie's name.
Which, given the book has a semi-happy ending, they end up doing.
My only real problem was that the ending seemed rather rushed. I mean, everything gets tied up in the course of a chapter. That and I wasn't clear on how related all the conspirators were at the end. Because, one of the big surprise baddies seems to be completely unrelated to the Devil subplot. Also, as Sookie herself points out, it would have been easier for any one of them to show up on her soorstep with a gun rather than go through all the convoluted plotting that forms the plot of the book. Of course, had they not, the book would have been a heck of a lot shorter.
In all honesty, when I read book 8, From Dead to Worse, I thought that it would be the series finale, given how many loose ends she tied up. Thankfully, 5 books down, she wound up writing something better inclined to wrap up all the dangling plot lines, and give us Karin, Eric's other daughter. Who's almost as awesome as Pam.
Satisfying, yes. But I can imagine that more than a few folks will be annoyed with the resolution. I was not among them, since it actually showed good sense on Sookie's part, which seems to be a rarity in Urban Fantasy.
I'll admit, what I've seen of the show is good, which admittedly is about 3 episodes from the first 2 seasons. (I haven't really watched Showtime since Queer As Folk, and even then, I wound up having to download the last season or 2 just to find out what was going on.)
From what I've seen, about the only TV show that's remaining fairly faithful to the source material is Game of Thrones on HBO, and maybe The Walking Dead on AMC. (The latter did a switch up on one of the bigger surprises in the books though.) (I also won't mention Lifetime's adaptions of Blood Ties based on Tanya Huff that ignored the fact the vampire was bisexual in the books or SciFi's The Dresden Files that only ever got into the source material for one midseason episode.)
None of which is really related to Dead Ever After by Charlaine Harris (aka the next to last Sookie Stackhouse book, although the last one is aupposed to be more or less an extended epilogue). I just tend to go off on tangents occasionally.
There have been some rather ugly accusations leveled at Ms. Harris about how unenlightened and sexist Sookie is, but really, it rather fits the character. Sookie is at heart, a fairly sheltered white trash woman in a remote part of Louisiana. To expect that kind of character to behave like an urbane socialite would be rather silly. Even if Sookie has dated just about every kind of "super" in the universe. (Vampires, shifters, weres...don't think she dated a fairie, mainly because most of the ones in the books were relations...)
Anyway.
This, the latest book, starts off in Mexico with some plotting to get a major artifact from Sookie that got used in the last book, the Cluvial Dor. Mainly, it involves the father of a recurring character and his bodyguard selling their souls to a devil (not The Devil, he rarely goes above ground anymore). When they find out the artifact is no more, it instead sets off a rather convoluted plot to get revenge on Sookie.
Sookie, completely clueless to all of this, is dealing with the aftermath of using the Cluvial Dor. Namely, Eric moving to Oklahoma, and Sam (her boss who turns into a collie on occasion) being alive and not being all that talkative with her.
What follows is almost like the Quantum Leap series finale, wherein just about every character who's appeared in the series but hasn't died, makes a cameo at the very least. Arlene, last seen going to prison for trying to get Sookie crucified for her choices in supernatural bed partners, get released by the conspirators and tries to get a job at Merlotte's, the bar Sookie works at and partially owns. Needless to say, she doesn't get her job back, and in fact gets found garotted with Sookie's scarf in Merlotte's dumpster the next morning.
Which of course ends up getting Sookie arrested on murder charges. Making it more akin to the Seinfeld series finale, actually.
Anyway, with Sookie out on bail (paid by Eric, who of course has a few ulterior motives), many recurring characters show up to help clear Sookie's name.
Which, given the book has a semi-happy ending, they end up doing.
My only real problem was that the ending seemed rather rushed. I mean, everything gets tied up in the course of a chapter. That and I wasn't clear on how related all the conspirators were at the end. Because, one of the big surprise baddies seems to be completely unrelated to the Devil subplot. Also, as Sookie herself points out, it would have been easier for any one of them to show up on her soorstep with a gun rather than go through all the convoluted plotting that forms the plot of the book. Of course, had they not, the book would have been a heck of a lot shorter.
In all honesty, when I read book 8, From Dead to Worse, I thought that it would be the series finale, given how many loose ends she tied up. Thankfully, 5 books down, she wound up writing something better inclined to wrap up all the dangling plot lines, and give us Karin, Eric's other daughter. Who's almost as awesome as Pam.
Satisfying, yes. But I can imagine that more than a few folks will be annoyed with the resolution. I was not among them, since it actually showed good sense on Sookie's part, which seems to be a rarity in Urban Fantasy.
Monday, June 10, 2013
The sun goes down the stars come out...
So, I discussed book 1 of Sergei Lukyanenko's Watch trilogy a while back.
Today, as I waited to clock in, I finished Day Watch, which is obviously Book 2.Obviously.
Much like the first one, the book is really 3 novellas wrapped around the machinations of the Night Watch and the Day Watch, groupings of "Others" who either fight for the light or for the dark. This volume is focused on the Day Watch, the Dark Others like vampires and witches, and their perspective on things.
For the most part, the Dark ones are very survival of the fittest. Make your own destiny. Serve no one.
They're kind of like the Shadows to the Light ones' Vorlons. Because, really, the Light ones aren't much better. (Seriously, by the end of the book, when all is revealed, I was annoyed with both Watches.)
The first story deals with the witch Alisa, who spent most of the last book screwing with the protagonist Anton. In this, Alisa manages to drain her powers during a group working to save a fellow witch from the Night Watch. As such, Zabulon, head of the Moscow Day Watch, sends her for some R&R at a summer camp. (I am not all that familiar with all things Russian, but it sounds like the camp started off as a camp for young Communists.) She falls in love with Igor, they rut like rabbits, then as she regains her powers, she realizes he's also feeding off the campers because he's a Light one in similar straits to her.
The second part deals with an Ukrainian Day Watch member coming to Moscow with no real memory of who he is, and what he's doing in Moscow. His story revolves around a stolen artifact that was being held by the very neutral Inquisition (the Inquisition is made up of both Dark and Light ones. Their job is to enforce the treaty and keep the balance.) Said artifact, Fafnir's Talon, is a pretty powerful Dark artifact that Vitaly, the Ukrainian, winds up in custody of after it lands in Moscow. His actions end up having some serious repercussions for the Night Watch.
In the third story, we focus in on the Estonian, Edgar, as he is sent to Prague for the Inquisition trial of both the thieves of the Talon in the second part and of Igor for his crimes in the first part. Anton (protagonist from the first book) is also in Prague for the same trial. The two wind up finding common cause over Czech beers (in the process making fun of American Budweiser and American airmen on leave from Kosovo. This book is set in 1999, and the third part takes place near Christmas.) As the trial approaches, we finally figure out what Gesar (head of the Night Watch) and Zabulon have been plotting over the past two books.
Which annoyed me, since the author more or less builds up how tricky the two magicians are, then has the characters figure out it was exactly what they were discussing, rather than any number of twists I was coming up with reading the discussions.
And really, the plot revealed, which is caught in Millennial fever, kind of annoyed me. Then again, the final resolution is from a framework well outside of where I am. I won't go into detail here, merely state that Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHay would be proud. Sort of.
I'm also guessing that since I am not a Muskovite, nor am I part of Russian culture, there is probably quite a bit of allegory to post USSR life that I'm missing in the narrative. Much like Y Tu Mama Tambien, where I missed several commentary notes on Mwxican culture because I'm not part of it.
It's still a fun read. I'll eventually have to get the final book when my TBR pile shrinks a bit.
Today, as I waited to clock in, I finished Day Watch, which is obviously Book 2.Obviously.
Much like the first one, the book is really 3 novellas wrapped around the machinations of the Night Watch and the Day Watch, groupings of "Others" who either fight for the light or for the dark. This volume is focused on the Day Watch, the Dark Others like vampires and witches, and their perspective on things.
For the most part, the Dark ones are very survival of the fittest. Make your own destiny. Serve no one.
They're kind of like the Shadows to the Light ones' Vorlons. Because, really, the Light ones aren't much better. (Seriously, by the end of the book, when all is revealed, I was annoyed with both Watches.)
The first story deals with the witch Alisa, who spent most of the last book screwing with the protagonist Anton. In this, Alisa manages to drain her powers during a group working to save a fellow witch from the Night Watch. As such, Zabulon, head of the Moscow Day Watch, sends her for some R&R at a summer camp. (I am not all that familiar with all things Russian, but it sounds like the camp started off as a camp for young Communists.) She falls in love with Igor, they rut like rabbits, then as she regains her powers, she realizes he's also feeding off the campers because he's a Light one in similar straits to her.
The second part deals with an Ukrainian Day Watch member coming to Moscow with no real memory of who he is, and what he's doing in Moscow. His story revolves around a stolen artifact that was being held by the very neutral Inquisition (the Inquisition is made up of both Dark and Light ones. Their job is to enforce the treaty and keep the balance.) Said artifact, Fafnir's Talon, is a pretty powerful Dark artifact that Vitaly, the Ukrainian, winds up in custody of after it lands in Moscow. His actions end up having some serious repercussions for the Night Watch.
In the third story, we focus in on the Estonian, Edgar, as he is sent to Prague for the Inquisition trial of both the thieves of the Talon in the second part and of Igor for his crimes in the first part. Anton (protagonist from the first book) is also in Prague for the same trial. The two wind up finding common cause over Czech beers (in the process making fun of American Budweiser and American airmen on leave from Kosovo. This book is set in 1999, and the third part takes place near Christmas.) As the trial approaches, we finally figure out what Gesar (head of the Night Watch) and Zabulon have been plotting over the past two books.
Which annoyed me, since the author more or less builds up how tricky the two magicians are, then has the characters figure out it was exactly what they were discussing, rather than any number of twists I was coming up with reading the discussions.
And really, the plot revealed, which is caught in Millennial fever, kind of annoyed me. Then again, the final resolution is from a framework well outside of where I am. I won't go into detail here, merely state that Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHay would be proud. Sort of.
I'm also guessing that since I am not a Muskovite, nor am I part of Russian culture, there is probably quite a bit of allegory to post USSR life that I'm missing in the narrative. Much like Y Tu Mama Tambien, where I missed several commentary notes on Mwxican culture because I'm not part of it.
It's still a fun read. I'll eventually have to get the final book when my TBR pile shrinks a bit.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Espresso yourself
The world must be ending. I've now managed to update 3 days in a row.
Finally finished Cleo Coyle's new Coffeehouse Mystery, A Brew to a Kill. (As I understand it, Cleo Coyle is a pen name, and the same author also writes the Haunted Bookshop Mysteries as Alice Kimberly. However, give a few plot elements that crop up in a few books, I'm alsmost wondering if there isn't some ghostwriting going on as well. We'll come back to that.)
The series takes place in Greenwich Village in Manhattan. Claire Cosi runs The Village Blend on behalf of her octogenarian ex-mother-in-law, Madame Dreyfus Allegro Dubois. Her ex-husband, Matteo, travels the world buying coffee beans for the business. They have a daughter named Joy, who's currently in culinary school in Paris. As the series has progressed, so has Claire's relationship with Mike, the Homicide detective who now runs the OD squad for NYPD. And Joy has been dating Franco, one of Mike's subordinates. Matteo, on the other hand is now married to a wealthy socialite. (Mind you, it's an open marriage, but hey...)
The current book starts with a hit and run accident outside the blend following a meeting between Claire, Matteo, Madame, and Lilly Beth Tanga. Lilly Beth, a woman of Philippians decent who is consulting on healthier options for the Blend's new food truck, gets struck by a white van following a confrontation with the Kupcake Kween's food truck. The Kupcake Kween food truck is run by a business rival, and blasts the names of cupcakes sold in a bad French accent to the tune of "Ma Vie in Rose".
On top of this, Matteo's new Brazilian bean shipment seems to have picked up a few surprises, namely a new form of Brazilian crack-cocaine the dealer wants him to distribute.
Over the course of the rest of the story, we get our usual blend of red herrings as to who was behind both the first hit and run as well as the second (at a food truck reception), plus a conclusion that features the series' hallmark, Claire finding out at least one mystery by becoming a woman in jeopardy at the hands of the bad guy.
Oh yes. Much as I love this series and the recipes both in the book and at her website, I honestly feel the NYPD homicide squad should just covertly tail Claire whenever a murder happens anywhere near the Blend, since she'll inevitably get kidnapped, assaulted, etc by the bad guy.
Also, one of the traits that leads me to believe that a few books are getting ghost written here or at least edited is the occasional brief mention of the supernatural in a few books in the series. In the first book, she reads coffee grounds. That's never shown up again. Occasionally, we get a mildly prophetic dream that half the time only tangentially relates to the plot.
The series as a whole makes for a nice afternoon read, even if it does require a visit to whatever local coffeehouse is nearby.
Finally finished Cleo Coyle's new Coffeehouse Mystery, A Brew to a Kill. (As I understand it, Cleo Coyle is a pen name, and the same author also writes the Haunted Bookshop Mysteries as Alice Kimberly. However, give a few plot elements that crop up in a few books, I'm alsmost wondering if there isn't some ghostwriting going on as well. We'll come back to that.)
The series takes place in Greenwich Village in Manhattan. Claire Cosi runs The Village Blend on behalf of her octogenarian ex-mother-in-law, Madame Dreyfus Allegro Dubois. Her ex-husband, Matteo, travels the world buying coffee beans for the business. They have a daughter named Joy, who's currently in culinary school in Paris. As the series has progressed, so has Claire's relationship with Mike, the Homicide detective who now runs the OD squad for NYPD. And Joy has been dating Franco, one of Mike's subordinates. Matteo, on the other hand is now married to a wealthy socialite. (Mind you, it's an open marriage, but hey...)
The current book starts with a hit and run accident outside the blend following a meeting between Claire, Matteo, Madame, and Lilly Beth Tanga. Lilly Beth, a woman of Philippians decent who is consulting on healthier options for the Blend's new food truck, gets struck by a white van following a confrontation with the Kupcake Kween's food truck. The Kupcake Kween food truck is run by a business rival, and blasts the names of cupcakes sold in a bad French accent to the tune of "Ma Vie in Rose".
On top of this, Matteo's new Brazilian bean shipment seems to have picked up a few surprises, namely a new form of Brazilian crack-cocaine the dealer wants him to distribute.
Over the course of the rest of the story, we get our usual blend of red herrings as to who was behind both the first hit and run as well as the second (at a food truck reception), plus a conclusion that features the series' hallmark, Claire finding out at least one mystery by becoming a woman in jeopardy at the hands of the bad guy.
Oh yes. Much as I love this series and the recipes both in the book and at her website, I honestly feel the NYPD homicide squad should just covertly tail Claire whenever a murder happens anywhere near the Blend, since she'll inevitably get kidnapped, assaulted, etc by the bad guy.
Also, one of the traits that leads me to believe that a few books are getting ghost written here or at least edited is the occasional brief mention of the supernatural in a few books in the series. In the first book, she reads coffee grounds. That's never shown up again. Occasionally, we get a mildly prophetic dream that half the time only tangentially relates to the plot.
The series as a whole makes for a nice afternoon read, even if it does require a visit to whatever local coffeehouse is nearby.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Banananana Surprise anyone?
Since my last post concerned Phantom of the Opera, I thought I'd cover one of my favorite worlds, specifically a book within that world that's a literary parody of Phantom.
For those who have never delved into the happy world of Discworld, Terry Pratchett created a wonderfully satiric medieval lite world that reads like Monty Python playing Dungeons and Dragons. There are several characters he follows around, depending on the volume, but one, Maskerade, somehow manages to bring several characters together into one big grand guignol of comedy.
We start with Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax trying to meet as witches, only to find they really need a third. ("Three witches are a coven. Two witches are an argument.") Nanny tries to recruit Agnes Nitt (AKA Perdita X. Dream) to the coven, only to find that Agnes has left for Ankh-Morpork to sing in the Opera.
Of course, Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax find an excuse to go to Ankh-Morpork, mainly due to missing royalties on Nanny Ogg's cookbook, which she wrote under the pseudonym, The Lancre Witch. Given Granny Weatherwax feels she's more deserving of that title, she has a few ideas of her own in mind by the time the arrive in Ankh-Morpork. (As a side note, Granny ends up playing cards with Death to save a baby. This is one of Death's many cameos in this book. Given Death is an inveterate scene stealer...)
Anyway, Perdita is singing in the chorus, although what she's REALLY doing is a Debbie Reynolds in Singin' in the Rain. Which is to say Perdita is singing the lead over the horribly vocally untalented Christina. Christina got the lead due to beauty and her ability to faint at appropriate times.
By the end of this, we have 2 Phantoms running around (3 if you count the anthropomorphic cat Greebo, who poses as the Phantom briefly), the whole of Pseudopolis Yard investigating, 3 witches, Death, Death-of-Rats, the librarian from Unseen University on organ, and a plot that gets so convoluted that it matches any opera in terms of scope and silliness.
As much as I love all of Discworld, even the ones that are more commentary than funny, this one ranks as my all time favorite. Although if you've never read any of it, the series starts with Rincewind in The Colour of Magic.
For those who have never delved into the happy world of Discworld, Terry Pratchett created a wonderfully satiric medieval lite world that reads like Monty Python playing Dungeons and Dragons. There are several characters he follows around, depending on the volume, but one, Maskerade, somehow manages to bring several characters together into one big grand guignol of comedy.
We start with Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax trying to meet as witches, only to find they really need a third. ("Three witches are a coven. Two witches are an argument.") Nanny tries to recruit Agnes Nitt (AKA Perdita X. Dream) to the coven, only to find that Agnes has left for Ankh-Morpork to sing in the Opera.
Of course, Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax find an excuse to go to Ankh-Morpork, mainly due to missing royalties on Nanny Ogg's cookbook, which she wrote under the pseudonym, The Lancre Witch. Given Granny Weatherwax feels she's more deserving of that title, she has a few ideas of her own in mind by the time the arrive in Ankh-Morpork. (As a side note, Granny ends up playing cards with Death to save a baby. This is one of Death's many cameos in this book. Given Death is an inveterate scene stealer...)
Anyway, Perdita is singing in the chorus, although what she's REALLY doing is a Debbie Reynolds in Singin' in the Rain. Which is to say Perdita is singing the lead over the horribly vocally untalented Christina. Christina got the lead due to beauty and her ability to faint at appropriate times.
By the end of this, we have 2 Phantoms running around (3 if you count the anthropomorphic cat Greebo, who poses as the Phantom briefly), the whole of Pseudopolis Yard investigating, 3 witches, Death, Death-of-Rats, the librarian from Unseen University on organ, and a plot that gets so convoluted that it matches any opera in terms of scope and silliness.
As much as I love all of Discworld, even the ones that are more commentary than funny, this one ranks as my all time favorite. Although if you've never read any of it, the series starts with Rincewind in The Colour of Magic.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Common sense doesn't apply to sopranos
Last night, NetFlix showed me the 25 Anniversary Phantom of the Opera LIVE at Albert Hall. Which, while I really enjoyed watching my favorite musical, the story Andrew Lloyd Weber portrays is not quite as...true...to Gaston Leroux's source material as it could be. Not that any adaption really is, since most modern retellings focus on the romance rather than the tragedy.
See, Erik, aka the Phantom, is not a happy or particularly sane man, and Christine Daae isn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box. Her lover Raoul is impulsive and quite irrational in his steps.
They're the heart of the story, yes, but so much more is going on around them. (Leroux was a mystery writer, so it should come as no great surprise that much of the novel focuses on Erik's crimes.) Like the missing money, disappearing sopranos, people getting hung...
Maybe it would help to start at the very beginning. Christine is a budding Soprano stuck in the chorus until the Diva Carlotta is ill. Christine, who as far as any one knows sings like a rusty hinge, steps up and wows the crowd of patrons. (It should be noted here that Carlotta is not exactly the world's nicest Prima Donna. Leroux takes a paragraph or two to explain how Carlotta is quite heartless, using men to rise from singing at bawdy houses to singing Marguerite in Faust.) New managers take over the opera (Armand and Fermin), and find out that not only are the previous managers happy to go, but they've inherited quite a greedy ghost. Who demands salary payments and the leaving of Box 5 at every opening performance that he might enjoy the show. They talk to Madame Giry, who serves as the ghost's personal valet when he's seated in Box 5, who tells them that the ghost is a good tipper, and the reasons she serves him is a note he left promising her daughter, Meg (a dancer in the corps de ballet), the chance to marry nobility.
Well, being business men, of course they don't listen.
In the meantime, Christine (who's rather like 19th century white trash), has caught the eye of her childhood friend, the Vicomte de Chagny. Raoul is young and impulsive, and won't listen to his older brother, Comte Philippe de Chagny. Philippe encourages Raoul not to get involved with Christine. (Hell, later on, when Raoul follows Christine to her father's grave, the ghost tells him not to get involved.)
Anyway.
The new managers fire Mme. Giry, thinking she's the reason behind the extortion. They also sell Box 5. And give Christine a minor role, sticking Carlotta in the lead. Let's see... the Phantom is heard talking directly into the ears of the folks in Box 5, revealing the infidelity of the wife of the patron. Carlotta croaks like a frog in the middle of an aria, and the chandelier drops, landing on the head of the woman hired to replace Mme. Giry.
Raoul and Christine start a "pretend" engagement (Christine says they can never be married), and shows him some of the secrets of the upper floors of the Opera. (Which are some of the most interesting tidbits of the book. People living in the opera, the characters therein...). She avoids the sublevels of the opera, not telling Raoul until later that those are Erik's domain.
As they bond and fall more in love, Christine finally reveals her knowledge of the Phantom. The voice in her room teaching her to sing using the methodology employed by her father the violinist, the voice that claims to be the Angel of Music. Of falling into a mirror, crossing a lake 4 sublevels down to the Phantom's house... ripping off his mask to find a skull looking back at her. (Yes, Erik is horribly disfigured.) Finding his opera, a retelling of Don Juan, who lives in hell rather than being taken there by a statue he invited to dinner.
They work out a plan to elope and escape after a performance of Faust.
When Faust begins, we find out that the Ghost has demanded quite a lump sum of cash from the managers and demanded also that Christine sing Marguerite.
The cash, safety pinned to Fermin, vanishes. Christine vanishes in the middle of the opera. Raoul goes notes. It's at this point the narrative goes first person, drawn from the diary of The Persian, one of the eccentrics living in and around the Opera. Seems The Persian knew Erik back in the day, and more or less has been caretaking/keeping an eye on Erik for quite some time. He tells of of Erik's time in the Rosy Hours of Mazendaran. Which isn't in great detail, beyond Erik teaching a sultaness of how to use a noose and Punjab Lasso.
The Persian and Raoul decide not to attempt the lake to get to Erik's house, since the "Sea Monster" might be there. They instead find the back door to Erik's house (after running in to The Ratcatcher and The Fireman [who gets a footnote saying something to the effect that he has a story of his own that never gets told] ) and fall into Erik's torture chamber.
Erik's torture chamber is an octagonal room made of mirrors. Raoul and the Persian spend what seems like a few days in the torture chamber (which more or less simulated being trapped in an iron forest until the prisoners hang themselves), listening to Erik begging, cajoling, and threatening Christine to marry him. He gives her a choice between two statues, one which will flood the gunpowder and one that will blow up the Opera and a few surrounding blocks of Paris.
She chooses marriage and floods the torture chamber which sat on top of the gunpowder.
At the end of The Persian's narrative, we find out that Erik ended up realasing Christine after she kissed his naked face without revulsion, letting her go to her one true love, Raoul. He dies a few weeks later of a broken heart.
The book ends with Leroux telling us the reason he wrote the book is because of a skeleton wearing a wedding ring found in the basements of a renovating Opera. Not a victim of the Revolution, Leroux believes the skeleton to be Erik, who should be buried with full honors.
Like I said, not exactly romantic, unless your idea of romance involves having your stalker threaten to blow up a city block because you won't love him.
See, Erik, aka the Phantom, is not a happy or particularly sane man, and Christine Daae isn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box. Her lover Raoul is impulsive and quite irrational in his steps.
They're the heart of the story, yes, but so much more is going on around them. (Leroux was a mystery writer, so it should come as no great surprise that much of the novel focuses on Erik's crimes.) Like the missing money, disappearing sopranos, people getting hung...
Maybe it would help to start at the very beginning. Christine is a budding Soprano stuck in the chorus until the Diva Carlotta is ill. Christine, who as far as any one knows sings like a rusty hinge, steps up and wows the crowd of patrons. (It should be noted here that Carlotta is not exactly the world's nicest Prima Donna. Leroux takes a paragraph or two to explain how Carlotta is quite heartless, using men to rise from singing at bawdy houses to singing Marguerite in Faust.) New managers take over the opera (Armand and Fermin), and find out that not only are the previous managers happy to go, but they've inherited quite a greedy ghost. Who demands salary payments and the leaving of Box 5 at every opening performance that he might enjoy the show. They talk to Madame Giry, who serves as the ghost's personal valet when he's seated in Box 5, who tells them that the ghost is a good tipper, and the reasons she serves him is a note he left promising her daughter, Meg (a dancer in the corps de ballet), the chance to marry nobility.
Well, being business men, of course they don't listen.
In the meantime, Christine (who's rather like 19th century white trash), has caught the eye of her childhood friend, the Vicomte de Chagny. Raoul is young and impulsive, and won't listen to his older brother, Comte Philippe de Chagny. Philippe encourages Raoul not to get involved with Christine. (Hell, later on, when Raoul follows Christine to her father's grave, the ghost tells him not to get involved.)
Anyway.
The new managers fire Mme. Giry, thinking she's the reason behind the extortion. They also sell Box 5. And give Christine a minor role, sticking Carlotta in the lead. Let's see... the Phantom is heard talking directly into the ears of the folks in Box 5, revealing the infidelity of the wife of the patron. Carlotta croaks like a frog in the middle of an aria, and the chandelier drops, landing on the head of the woman hired to replace Mme. Giry.
Raoul and Christine start a "pretend" engagement (Christine says they can never be married), and shows him some of the secrets of the upper floors of the Opera. (Which are some of the most interesting tidbits of the book. People living in the opera, the characters therein...). She avoids the sublevels of the opera, not telling Raoul until later that those are Erik's domain.
As they bond and fall more in love, Christine finally reveals her knowledge of the Phantom. The voice in her room teaching her to sing using the methodology employed by her father the violinist, the voice that claims to be the Angel of Music. Of falling into a mirror, crossing a lake 4 sublevels down to the Phantom's house... ripping off his mask to find a skull looking back at her. (Yes, Erik is horribly disfigured.) Finding his opera, a retelling of Don Juan, who lives in hell rather than being taken there by a statue he invited to dinner.
They work out a plan to elope and escape after a performance of Faust.
When Faust begins, we find out that the Ghost has demanded quite a lump sum of cash from the managers and demanded also that Christine sing Marguerite.
The cash, safety pinned to Fermin, vanishes. Christine vanishes in the middle of the opera. Raoul goes notes. It's at this point the narrative goes first person, drawn from the diary of The Persian, one of the eccentrics living in and around the Opera. Seems The Persian knew Erik back in the day, and more or less has been caretaking/keeping an eye on Erik for quite some time. He tells of of Erik's time in the Rosy Hours of Mazendaran. Which isn't in great detail, beyond Erik teaching a sultaness of how to use a noose and Punjab Lasso.
The Persian and Raoul decide not to attempt the lake to get to Erik's house, since the "Sea Monster" might be there. They instead find the back door to Erik's house (after running in to The Ratcatcher and The Fireman [who gets a footnote saying something to the effect that he has a story of his own that never gets told] ) and fall into Erik's torture chamber.
Erik's torture chamber is an octagonal room made of mirrors. Raoul and the Persian spend what seems like a few days in the torture chamber (which more or less simulated being trapped in an iron forest until the prisoners hang themselves), listening to Erik begging, cajoling, and threatening Christine to marry him. He gives her a choice between two statues, one which will flood the gunpowder and one that will blow up the Opera and a few surrounding blocks of Paris.
She chooses marriage and floods the torture chamber which sat on top of the gunpowder.
At the end of The Persian's narrative, we find out that Erik ended up realasing Christine after she kissed his naked face without revulsion, letting her go to her one true love, Raoul. He dies a few weeks later of a broken heart.
The book ends with Leroux telling us the reason he wrote the book is because of a skeleton wearing a wedding ring found in the basements of a renovating Opera. Not a victim of the Revolution, Leroux believes the skeleton to be Erik, who should be buried with full honors.
Like I said, not exactly romantic, unless your idea of romance involves having your stalker threaten to blow up a city block because you won't love him.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Dragons and guardians and elves and bards... OH MY!
So, since I said I'd start writing a weekly survey/synopsis entry on here, I figured I'd start with another favorite shared world series by an author I've reviewed before. Now, I was thinking about reviewing the NYC of the Coffeehouse Mysteries by Cleo Coyle (mainly because I'm halfway through book 11, A Brew to a Kill) or catching everyone up on Southern Vampires (aka Sookie Stackhouse) by Charlaine Harris or Destroyermen by Taylor anderson (both of which have a new book out or getting ready to come out.) Instead, I got to thinking about Bedlam's Bard and the very interesting shared world it inhabits.
As a story behind this, many many years ago, I worked at a Dayton, OH, pizza chain named Cassano's. It remains one of the few good things in Dayton. (Ok, there are 3 really good chains down there. Milano's and anothe M which just brain farted out of my mind.) (And seriously, should you ever wind up in the cesspit that is Dayton, go to Cassano's. best pizza EVAR!) One of my drivers was also a fantasy nut, and as such got me involved with a few authors I'd either read a book by (Lois McMasters Bujold) or introduced me to series outside of the ones I had read (Mercedes Lackey). In this case, it took me a while to track down some of the books in question due to being out of print and assorted other drama...
Anyway.
My first introduction to the "Elves on the Road" world (at least that what Wikipedia calls it... I don't think it ever had a real name) was Burning Water, the first Diana Tregarde mystery. It was...interesting Very slow, but really interesting. It dug deep into Pre Conquista Mexican theology and some rather dumb photographer trying to complete the ritual rites of Tezcatlipoca (AKA Burning Water) in order to bring him back. Luckily, Diana Tregarde, Romance novelist and witch with Guardian powers gets involved, mainly because the wife of said photographer (and likely sacrifice) happens to be a friend of hers.
The next book, Children of the Night, was set in the late 60's early 70's (guessing on time frame based on references within the story) and involved bad vampires working with soul eating Japanese spirits. It too, was kind of drawn out. And gave Diane a vampire boyfriend about 7 years before Buffy the Vampire Slayer and 10ish before Twilight.
It's the third book, however, that seems to have caused the most issues, and sadly, it's the best in the series. Jinx High follows the child of one of Diana's paranormal investigator friends who's involved with a psycho girl. When Diana gets involved, we find out the psycho in question is a body switching witch who's modus operandi is to have a daughter, then switch bodies with her. And had been doing this for quite some time.
There are also two short stories ("Satanic, Versus..." and "Nightside") collected in the anthology Werehunter. I'm pretty sure both are available to read on her website. The former has one of my favorite joke incantations in it, and references an old RPG: Bureau 13. For those who never played, it has a class called Kitchen Witch. The kitchen witch has the ability to take old grimoires and convert them with modern ingredients. Including replacing some obscure/rare/extinct ingredient with... Twinkies. She also wrote a novella for the collection Trio of Sorcery called "Arcanum 101".
Then there was the absolutely wonderful Bedlam's Bard series. The first two (Knight of Ghosts and Shadows and Summoned to Tourney) were later published as a single volume and co-written by Ellen Guon. The next four volumes were cowritten with Rosemary Edgehill and sort of retcon a few major developments from the first two. The first two books revolve around Eric, a bard with a flute; Beth, a guitarist with a band; and Kory, an elf. At the end of the first book and continuing through the second, they're a triad. When the thirst books starts, Kory and Beth move Underhill and the idea of them being a triad for several years is swept away. Which is sad, but ot does allow for the redemption of the sort of antagonist from Book 1 who ends up dating Eric. Eric also winds up moving to NYC and into the same apartment building Diana Tregarde lived in. he also meets Hosea, a bard with a Banjo. And more Guardians. And more Elves.
By far, Mad Maudlin is my favorite in the last 4 volumes. One of the plotlines running around has to do with a mythology created by homeless kids involving a demon named Bloody Mary who both protects and harms children on the streets. Not long after reading it, I found an article on the street children of Miami and a similar mythology that has evolved among them. I personally get sucked into folklore, and finding an evolving one is a quick way to grab my interest.
The last series in this Modern Elf world is the SERRAted Edge series. Which is almost a shared world in and of itself, since none of the book really follow the same characters the rest did. (Most of these were co-written with Mark Shepherd, one with Larry Dixon, and two with Holly Lisle.) It concerns itself with elves who race Elven Steeds disguised as race cars. (Although they have made progress making racing cars with non-ferrous materials. Since we all know iron and elves get along about as well as Superman and Kryptonite.) One should not that the young mage Tannim gets a lot of face time in this series. Which is good, since he makes a cameo in Jinx High and Spirits White as Lightning.
According to Wiki, there's a historical elf series set earlier in the timeline of this world, but I've not read them.
But, if you've read Valdemar or enjoy Urban Fantasy, you could do a lot worse than these series.
As a story behind this, many many years ago, I worked at a Dayton, OH, pizza chain named Cassano's. It remains one of the few good things in Dayton. (Ok, there are 3 really good chains down there. Milano's and anothe M which just brain farted out of my mind.) (And seriously, should you ever wind up in the cesspit that is Dayton, go to Cassano's. best pizza EVAR!) One of my drivers was also a fantasy nut, and as such got me involved with a few authors I'd either read a book by (Lois McMasters Bujold) or introduced me to series outside of the ones I had read (Mercedes Lackey). In this case, it took me a while to track down some of the books in question due to being out of print and assorted other drama...
Anyway.
My first introduction to the "Elves on the Road" world (at least that what Wikipedia calls it... I don't think it ever had a real name) was Burning Water, the first Diana Tregarde mystery. It was...interesting Very slow, but really interesting. It dug deep into Pre Conquista Mexican theology and some rather dumb photographer trying to complete the ritual rites of Tezcatlipoca (AKA Burning Water) in order to bring him back. Luckily, Diana Tregarde, Romance novelist and witch with Guardian powers gets involved, mainly because the wife of said photographer (and likely sacrifice) happens to be a friend of hers.
The next book, Children of the Night, was set in the late 60's early 70's (guessing on time frame based on references within the story) and involved bad vampires working with soul eating Japanese spirits. It too, was kind of drawn out. And gave Diane a vampire boyfriend about 7 years before Buffy the Vampire Slayer and 10ish before Twilight.
It's the third book, however, that seems to have caused the most issues, and sadly, it's the best in the series. Jinx High follows the child of one of Diana's paranormal investigator friends who's involved with a psycho girl. When Diana gets involved, we find out the psycho in question is a body switching witch who's modus operandi is to have a daughter, then switch bodies with her. And had been doing this for quite some time.
There are also two short stories ("Satanic, Versus..." and "Nightside") collected in the anthology Werehunter. I'm pretty sure both are available to read on her website. The former has one of my favorite joke incantations in it, and references an old RPG: Bureau 13. For those who never played, it has a class called Kitchen Witch. The kitchen witch has the ability to take old grimoires and convert them with modern ingredients. Including replacing some obscure/rare/extinct ingredient with... Twinkies. She also wrote a novella for the collection Trio of Sorcery called "Arcanum 101".
Then there was the absolutely wonderful Bedlam's Bard series. The first two (Knight of Ghosts and Shadows and Summoned to Tourney) were later published as a single volume and co-written by Ellen Guon. The next four volumes were cowritten with Rosemary Edgehill and sort of retcon a few major developments from the first two. The first two books revolve around Eric, a bard with a flute; Beth, a guitarist with a band; and Kory, an elf. At the end of the first book and continuing through the second, they're a triad. When the thirst books starts, Kory and Beth move Underhill and the idea of them being a triad for several years is swept away. Which is sad, but ot does allow for the redemption of the sort of antagonist from Book 1 who ends up dating Eric. Eric also winds up moving to NYC and into the same apartment building Diana Tregarde lived in. he also meets Hosea, a bard with a Banjo. And more Guardians. And more Elves.
By far, Mad Maudlin is my favorite in the last 4 volumes. One of the plotlines running around has to do with a mythology created by homeless kids involving a demon named Bloody Mary who both protects and harms children on the streets. Not long after reading it, I found an article on the street children of Miami and a similar mythology that has evolved among them. I personally get sucked into folklore, and finding an evolving one is a quick way to grab my interest.
The last series in this Modern Elf world is the SERRAted Edge series. Which is almost a shared world in and of itself, since none of the book really follow the same characters the rest did. (Most of these were co-written with Mark Shepherd, one with Larry Dixon, and two with Holly Lisle.) It concerns itself with elves who race Elven Steeds disguised as race cars. (Although they have made progress making racing cars with non-ferrous materials. Since we all know iron and elves get along about as well as Superman and Kryptonite.) One should not that the young mage Tannim gets a lot of face time in this series. Which is good, since he makes a cameo in Jinx High and Spirits White as Lightning.
According to Wiki, there's a historical elf series set earlier in the timeline of this world, but I've not read them.
But, if you've read Valdemar or enjoy Urban Fantasy, you could do a lot worse than these series.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
As the caissons go rolling along....
I'll be the first to admit my picture appears on the Things that are not Steampunk page. I love the visuals in Steampunk art, but the fiction is usually so tech heavy as to be distracting.
But there are exceptions to every rule, and sometimes the narrative doesn't get bogged down in fanciful alternate history. Such is the case with Doktor Glass, by Thomas Brennan.
Set in Victorian Liverpool, we meet Inspector Langdon as he finds a faceless body at the base of the soon to be inaugurated Span, a rail and road bridge traversing the Atlantic between Liverpool and New York City. The faceless body is covered in tattoos of Boer Irregular mercenaries, leading to speculation that the man was part of a South African Dutch plot to destroy the Queen, the Span, or both.
However, the corpse also has two square burn marks on the side of his neck.
What follows is a convoluted story involving the class warfare between upper crust English and lower class twits trapped in what amount to Hoovervilles along the side of the span; widows wanting pensions for husbands killed in the sinking of the caissons of the span, hopeful emigres trying to get steerage trips to America once the rail starts running...
Into this, thanks to a medium trying to help Inspector Langston get past the grief of losing his wife, we find out that the burn marks they keep finding on corpses' necks is due to the Jar Boys, who've created a device that captures a soul as it exits the body of a dying person. These newfangled canopic jars have the added bonus of giving folks who touch the poles on top of the jar a brief glimpse of the soul's life.
And of course, the mysterious Doktor Glass, who seems to be intent on taking out his competitors in the soul trade, who also has Langston's wife's soul in a jar.
The only really issue I had with the narrative was figuring out Doktor Glass's identity well before Langston did, even if the motive remain veiled until near the very end. There are, however, several other mysteries surround supporting characters (most of which revolve around "Who works for whom?") which keep interest high, and of course some exposition on the building of the Span itself, which brought be back to an Art History class that dealt with a lot of Architecture. Because the Span itself is a magnitudes greater version of the famed Brooklyn Bridge, stories of the sinking of the caissons in "the pond" are very similar to the horrors of sinking them in the Hudson so many years ago.
But there are exceptions to every rule, and sometimes the narrative doesn't get bogged down in fanciful alternate history. Such is the case with Doktor Glass, by Thomas Brennan.
Set in Victorian Liverpool, we meet Inspector Langdon as he finds a faceless body at the base of the soon to be inaugurated Span, a rail and road bridge traversing the Atlantic between Liverpool and New York City. The faceless body is covered in tattoos of Boer Irregular mercenaries, leading to speculation that the man was part of a South African Dutch plot to destroy the Queen, the Span, or both.
However, the corpse also has two square burn marks on the side of his neck.
What follows is a convoluted story involving the class warfare between upper crust English and lower class twits trapped in what amount to Hoovervilles along the side of the span; widows wanting pensions for husbands killed in the sinking of the caissons of the span, hopeful emigres trying to get steerage trips to America once the rail starts running...
Into this, thanks to a medium trying to help Inspector Langston get past the grief of losing his wife, we find out that the burn marks they keep finding on corpses' necks is due to the Jar Boys, who've created a device that captures a soul as it exits the body of a dying person. These newfangled canopic jars have the added bonus of giving folks who touch the poles on top of the jar a brief glimpse of the soul's life.
And of course, the mysterious Doktor Glass, who seems to be intent on taking out his competitors in the soul trade, who also has Langston's wife's soul in a jar.
The only really issue I had with the narrative was figuring out Doktor Glass's identity well before Langston did, even if the motive remain veiled until near the very end. There are, however, several other mysteries surround supporting characters (most of which revolve around "Who works for whom?") which keep interest high, and of course some exposition on the building of the Span itself, which brought be back to an Art History class that dealt with a lot of Architecture. Because the Span itself is a magnitudes greater version of the famed Brooklyn Bridge, stories of the sinking of the caissons in "the pond" are very similar to the horrors of sinking them in the Hudson so many years ago.
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