Disquiet Gods - Christopher Ruocchio

I've been talking about Ruocchio's series for years. He does good work, building out a complicated universe filled with a diverse range of factions, weird and wonderful tech, and people that live inside that space. Of course, the centrepiece of the story is Hadrian Marlowe, once an arse-kicking knight of the Solar Imperium, and before that all kinds of things, including a runaway son, a gladiator, and a general troubleshooter for his somewhat decrepit polity. Of course that kind of troubleshooting invovles warfare with aliens, blowing up clandestine research facilities, and tracking down technological abominations, so there's a breadth of coverage there. And now, he's back in this latest volume, Disquiet Gods.

Anyway. Marlowe. He's been through the wringer the last few books, and that doesn't really change here. He's still rocking that penchant for sticking his neck out, for taking risks, for saying not-quite the right thing to not-quite the right person. There's a sense to him of someone determined to walk away, to not be seen as a hero any longer, to fade into the west, as it were, and live outside the shadow of his own legend. This is, however, quite a long book, so I think you can all expect ithis plan not to work out exactly as he hopes. That said, this is Marlowe with a stake in events. He's trying to build something personal now, trying to look at his relationships, his family and friends, those that have survived, and keep them safe, keep them alive. Whether that's the best thing for them or not is rather open to question, but still. This version of Hadrian has matured enough to recognise his own weaknesses, and recovered sufficiently from the trauma laid out behind him in order to at least function. He's someone whose life has derailed maginificently from its expectations, and Hadrian is, if not resigned to that, at least comfortable in it; perhaps, as the story begins, too much so. Still, after the lavishly wrought inner worlds of earlier stories, its enjoyable to see him on something of an upswing.

In this he's helped by his relationships, with those surviving acquaintainces he has. As time passes for Hadrian Marlowe, we the reader risk growing a little disconnected from events, as the Patrician Marlowe, rendered long-lived by science and caste, outlives those other characters we loved so well - even when they don't get disembowelled, assassinated or otherwise fall to misadventure. Still, there's a few familiar faces in here to enliven the spirit, in terms of friends and enemies both and a swathe of new people whom we're learning about alongside our protagonist, and whom, as ever, the author draws with a rich and vivid passion to his prose that makes it both believable and great fun. Because while this is a story about galactic empries, about war between the stars, about atrocities and super-science and the inner heart of humanity and their story, it's also a apean to the person, to people, to the value that one clear vision can have if it finds itself lifted up by those around, about how no-one is an island. ABout human need and folly and loss and fear, yes, but about our strengths, our compassion and friendhsip and love for one another and how tht can make and break both people and empires. 

And if you're not into that, hmm. Well. Okay. The story lives on. The universe lives on, filled with horrendously alien aliens, who would like nothing better thn to eat you for their own aracane reasons (or, you know, for fun). Filled with people who've handed over more or less of themselves to machinery. To those who claim to live forever, flitting from one re-animated body to the next. Filled with horrors to blight the soul, absolutely, or even to slowly wrap it in turgid chains of protocol and a fog of formality. Of Empire, not without ambition, but with an impending mortality, Byzantium on the wane. But also a universe with laughter, with vital, fierce people who can and will change the world. And that's what makes the stoy, I think, because the world feels complicated, liek we see a small piece of a wider mosaic, and even what we see is filled with life and colour and movement and other stories just out of frame. It's a world that has textruee and heft, in a story which demands your attention. 

Speaking of....well. I won't delve into the tale here because it gives too much away really. But this is the beginning fo the end, I think, you can feel different voices building to a crescendo, you can feel institutions tottering, can feel choices being laid down which will drive a path to ruin, or something more. It's a story of fast-paced escapes, duels, unlikely alliances, extremely likely betrayals, and more than a little love. And for that, with that, it builds a story worth reading. It's not all fast-paced space battles; and though some of the more introspective pieces feel a little laboured, or occasionally  felt suspect or made me uncomfortable
, there's still a thoughtful, compelling story here, which will keep you turning pages until it's done. 

Return of the Jedi: From a Certain Point of View - Saladin Ahmed et al.

This is another in the sequence started way back in 2017, bringing you perspectives on the classic film trilogy from the perspective of various bit players. Those include a variety of Imperials stationed on the moon of Endor and beyond, bounty hunters, monsters, unfortunate civilians, and beyond. The idea is to provide some context and flavour to the world, to look at the adventures of Leia, Luke, Han et al through another lens. To emphasise that those other perspectives are just as important, in a wider universe.

And I'll say this, this is a collection with a diversity of perspectives, gods and monsters and heroes and unrepentant villains. There's something for everyone to enjoy, whether you like your hard-edged heroines, your scoundrels and killers, or the more familiar cast of the working stiff just trying to make it by while people keep waving laser swords and doomsday lasers in your face. I admit I have something of a penchant for the latter, but they all have their charms. And its a credit to the authors that they can show us different sides of characters we only saw in person, or ask us to interpret their actions a little differently, now we're inside their head. And enjoyably for Star Wars, this layer of personality, this extra flavour, makes for a more complex universe. Sure, the baddies are still bad. And the goodies are still good. But there's circumstance and story and history and all the rich tapestry of choice that brings not just the main characters, but all the people we see to the point of Return of the Jedi. And we get to see it here. 

Now, there's a fair point to be made that, well, do we really need to see another performer from the Max Rebo band? Does anyone care what blob-head-alien-in-the-crowd is doing there? And you know what...some of the time you're going to read one of these stories, and it'll be a miss for you. But there's enough here that maybe the next one will be exactly the flavour you need to pass the time, or the one in the collection that will light up your soul. 

And having said that, I think there's some good stuff here. Family stories. Redemption stories. Flat out adventure romps. More starfighter combat, fast and visceral and deadly, than you can shake a stick at. The ominous shadow of a super-moon that is something else. And of course, the knowledge that we know what's coming, but we don't know how we're going to get there this time, or why it may matter, differently, to others than our movie heroes. This is a paean to the idea that other people matter. That the greats are who they are because they're surrounded by other people living and working and supporting them, lifting them up with every choice, and being, in their own way, heroes in their own lives.  

This isn't a quiet book. It's full of blood and thunder and rousing speeches. But it's also an introspective one, which throws out some fun ideas to explore in the Star Wars expanded universe. Are we any worse off in the films for not hearing about Mon Mothma's corps of historians of the rebellion? Patently not. But they have an interesting story, and a protagonist who is ready to ask questions about whether what her leaders consider important actually...is. And if some of these stories are cracking yarns, others are looking around and using the Star Wars lens to ask some searching questions about us, and what we're willing to do, willing to accept. 

It's a solid collection, this. If you're a Star Wars fan, and want to get a little something more for your next viewing of Return of the Jedi, or you just want to delve deeper into the rich, diverse universe that Star Wars has on tap - then this is the one for you.

Wicked Problems - Max Gladstone

Wicked Problems is the second in Max Gladstone's Craft Wars sequence, which builds off another series of his, the Craft Sequence. I'll offer full disclosure by saying that there's never been a Craft book of his that I didn't like. Something about the blending of magic, gods and warfare with the more prosaic linguistics of consulting and attorneys, the mix of the high fantasy with the low familiar, really hits the spot. Gladstone also isn't shy about pointing out social issues, framed inside his fantasy; you're as like to see a necromantic lich lord called out for his unsound environmental provisions, as groundwater drains from a nearby lake broken by spellfire, as to find a high finance firm using precognitive worship to try and spot trends in the market. It's a smart conceit, and one I've always found deeply enjoyable. 

That has not, honestly, changed here. This is a second book in a second series, so I would say that if you're coming into the story fresh, there are probably better starting points. The original sequence pretty much works as standalones, but Wicked Problems needs you to have read its predecessor, at a minimum, to get to grips with it. And the additional context from the other series isn't a bad idea either. But if you're coming in as a fan, as someone who already knows the characters and the world, then let me tell you, this is a story which will reward close reading. It isn't afraid to ask hard questions of its characters - morally, ethically, and occasionally through all too literal sacrifice. It wants to know whether or not you're willing to take action in the face of mounting catastrophe, and it's also willing to entertain the idea that the specific action you might take may also be, you know, wrong. Wonderfully, this is a story which looks at two groups of people trying to save the world from onrushing cataclysm - they're just finding that their means of doing so, and their own sense of what is allowed in order to make that happen, are at odds. No cackling villains here (well, maybe one or two), mostly people doing the best that they can with the information available, and fucking up from time to time. Now granted, those times may or may not involve extradimensional entities and the occasional fireball, but hey.

And the characters themselves...well, if you're here you already know most of them. What they've already lived through, the decisions and consequences they've had to deal with Everyone on the page is smart, thoughtful, and willing to do a lot of things. Some of them are cynics, some are idealists, but they're there, looking back out at us, filled with raw pain and utter joy. There's families trying to live together on opposite sides, and students and teachers at the edge of a knife. There's golems and pirates and the occasional god, and say it however many times you like, they all feel like people to me, Like they could step off the page, grab a beer and start arguing about arcane theory and how it, say, allows you to use lava monsters to run geothermal plants. They're people, even the ones who aren't. Maybe especially the ones who aren't. They're dangerous and clever and hurt, and they're always willing to surprise both their antagonists and the reader at the last second. 

I don't have a lot to say about the story, except that it'll grab you at the back of the neck and not let go. It's going to keep you there, turning pages until far too late at night, as you try and figure out who is going to survive, what they plan to do, and whether or not they're right. It's a story that asks questions and throws out answers for you to look over yourself, to decide where you sit, where your sympathies are. It's a story that compels and fascinates, blood and metal and love and thunder. It's another marvellous book from Gladstone, another excellent Craft story, and if you're a fan, you should go pick it up, very soon.

 Back (again) next week!

We're all sick this week sadly, review to follow next week!

The Book That Broke The World - Mark Lawrence

As long time readers know, I've always been a fan of Mark Lawrence. He's got a knack for writing a richly imagined, immersive universe. For making the stage feel like a real, lived in place. And for putting characters on it who you can feel. Who are working on their own wants and needs, not just marching through the narrative motions. A knack for stories that ask big questions, and challenge the reader to go on the journey to, if not find the answer, at least find an answer. Which brings us to The Book That Broke The World. 

In part, this is a book about The Library. Not a library, but the library. It squats on its world, pulling in knowledge and focus like a gravity well. It's a monstrous thing, a collection of more knowledge than anyone can bear. Constructed over aeons, pulling in different peoples, different species, from all across its geography. The library squats within a mountain, and plumbs its depths. And while its physically imposing, its cultural weight is larger. Wars are fought for the knowledge of the library. People broken and forced out of the city. Which changes hands again, and again, and again. On a long enough timeline, the library draws everything to it, and then sets it aflame. Whether that's a good or a bad thing is open to debate. But the library itself has a warm, cosy, only slightly horrifying feel to it. As people step between different rooms, which can be feet or miles across. As they uncover secret knowledge, and terrifying defence mechanisms, those people step deeper into the space which is at once confined and limitless, chambers going ever deeper into the bedrock, each turn and each open door promising more understanding, greater knowledge. Greater power. And that's a promise which in this world carries costs.  The story isn't afraid to explore those, looking at the systemic oppression enacted by those in control, at one time or another. At the efforts to make changes, gradual or otherwise, violent or otherwise. It's a text that gives us a world about which it often seems fiercely angry, a world where knowledge is available if you're willing to kill for it, where keeping people down is a survival strategy and also inevitably ends in blood and fire. From the dark tunnels of mines worked by slaves, pulling out layers of shattered civilisations, to iron shelves in the library, torn apart by murderous automatons, there's layer after layer of history, of politics of compromise of blood. This is a world in thrall to its past, unwilling or unable to walk away from it. Whether that's a good or a bad thing is one of the questions this book is asking, as it shows you the consequences of both knowledge and ignorance (and perhaps, quietly, understanding).

We get to see some of our friends from the previous book once again. Livira and Evar are back, each one looking for the other, in their own way. Something Lawrence does well is show us characters changing, not just telling us about it. So we can see Livira, marked by her actions in the previous story, trying to find a way home, find a way back to Evar, to hold tight to a connection that might slip away forever. Whether she's willing to bear the costs of doing that is uncertain. But like Evar, she finds her family in those around her, and you can feel her becoming something more by osmosis. Evar, of course, has his own family, from hardened killers to schemers and back around again, victims of ancient trauma that they struggle with every day. He's a person willing to guide and be guided, growing from a lost boy into a leader, but still holding to curiosity, to vulnerability, to a quiet hurt that draws sympathy. They're both delightful in their empathy for others and fierce love for each other, and sympathetic in their struggle against their environment, their circumstances, and their struggle against antagonists that include malevolent ghosts, automatons, and, of course, other people. But this book also gives us a breath of fresh air in Celcha, someone brought up as a slave, mining knowledge, crushed into despair that hides a lively intelligence, and a strength of feeling likely to shatter worlds. Her journey, along with her brother, is a searingly painful one with flashes of joy, of understanding and belonging - and it's also a story of suffering, of the conflict between becoming what you hate and fighting back against it. Celcha is fiery, unyielding, thoughtful, and every page she's on is better for it.

The story. Well. No spoilers. But this is Lawrence at his best. Weaving strands of narrative across different moments of time and space, across multiple books, setting up convergences, letting people make choices that move them toward fraught, occasionally bloody conclusions. There's more action here than you can shake a stick at, and a slyly leering horror, and on the other side, there's the best of people, coming together to try to make something better. And, of course, the big questions - like how much knowledge is enough, how much is too much, is there such a thing, and should we let other people decide that for us, even if they look like they know what they're doing? It's a story that wants to give the reader room to think, while pacing the story so that you have to run to keep up at the same time. This is smart, wonderfully written fantasy that asks big questions about the kind of world we want, and about ourselves. It's also bloody good fun. So as ever, I thoroughly recommend it - though you could stand to read the first book in the series beforehand. Anyway, absolutely brilliant book, go, read.

Back next week!

 We're away this week, we'll be back next week!

Mother of Learning is a little outside of my fantasy comfort zone. It’s a progression fantasy. That is to say, it’s one where the protagonist explicitly gains power over time, going from squishy novice to, typically, all powerful wizard of doom. And, in fairness, the protagonist here certainly has the opportunity to do tha> Zorian starts the story as a student at a pre-eminent mage academy, but definitely just a student - and one with, it must be said, something of a high opinion of himself, whether thats deserved or not. But he’s about to have the opportunity to learn more - both in terms of skills, and in terms of himself.

The Zorian we meet on page one is…well, I described him to a friend as “incredibly annoying”. He has a self satisfied self importance, dovetailed with a sense of having bucked his own family to become a mage-student. He’s the youngest child of a family with several other famous mages in it, most of whom he can’t stand, with a seemingly absent father, a deeply manipulative mother, and a younger sister who starts her day by stealing his books and jumping on his chest. If his home life feels toxic, still Zorian seems embedded in his own past and prejudices. He’s determined to be an island, determined to succeed by force of will, determined to do so by striding forward in the future and beat his head against it, alone.

The first part of the book is about that Zorian. About his day as he sets out for the academy. About his irritation with his sister and his mother’s schemes. About arriving, about going to class, about a gently simmering resentment of his own friends. And about how that Zorian runs into an outside context problem. About how he starts to think differently, feel differently. 

Because Zorian is stuck in time. 

He wakes up again, and again, and again. And steps through the same period of time, again, and again, and again. But he can make other choices, can decide who to be, who to help, what to do. And of course, what to learn. Over, and over again.And so we see Zorian, changing. Becoming kinder, more compassionate, more aware of himself, yes, but slowly, resentfully almost, of others, He grows as a person, not just in throwing fireballs and shattering steel, but in how he relates to people, and to at least some of his family. 

Of course, it’s not all a journey of self discovery. Because there ar either people living their lives in the loop. And some of them know it’s a loop. And some of them very much don’t want times to change. Zrian has unreliable friends he hasn’t met yet, and unknowable enemies who won’t be averse to killing him over and over again, if they learn he’s in the loop repeating and aware. Because this is a story about how a city dies, or is saved. About how a conspiracy is formed and triumphs, or is defeated. A story of psychic rats and talking spiders, of mana fountains in the sky, and of magical schools built over the homes of monsters and martyrs. The world is context for Zorian’s struggle - though we mostly see it in asides, in deflections.We see old noble houses, crime families, great monsters. It’s a world whose perspective is very limited, as Zorian haunts his academy, and learns and learns and repeats and repeats and learns. But what flesh hangs from the bones has promise, and II hope we see more. 

In the end, this is a story of progress. Of Zorian, stepping through life after life after life, learning how to act better, live better, be better. And maybe throw a fireball or two. And trying to stay alive. This is a story that slowly, slowly builds an unsympathetic protagonist into a hero, and slowly, slowly builds the stakes around him to make us care. But it works. It’s compelling, page turning fantasy by the end, and a story I’d like to hear more about. I look forward to reading the sequel - and if you’re a progression fantasy reader, this one’s a good read.

Lyorn - Steven Brust

You'll always get me with a new work by Steven Brust. He has a sharp eye for the human condition, a real talent for snark, a penchant for saying interesting things, and a tendency to play around with the format of his stories to see what works. From the period-stylings of The Khaavren Romances to the thriller beats of The Good Guys, there's an impressive range there. But the heart of it, for me, is Vlad Taltos, and the saga of the Jhereg. Taltos has been a lot of things. Thug. Killer. Father. Fugitive. And we've seen him weave in and out of his story, switching point sin his personal timeline with him, picking up the pieces that fall off the stories he tells, trying to work out what's been happening, and what's coming next. We've seen the younger man planning murders, the older one standing in the ruins of his marriage, and the, ahem, even older one, rebuilding his life in a world that still isn't built for him, in an Empire that hates him for who he is, with gods playing the long game, friends with their own problems (like being an immortal vampire sorceress) and, well, you know, all those people trying to kill him.

Which is where Lyorn comes in. Vlad is back, baby. Back in Adrilankha, city by the sea, where he used to run a medium-sized criminal operation, and occasionally kill people. Back in the Empire of Dragaera, run by seven foot tall elves with access to sorcery, who regard him as a short-lived inconvenience. Back in close proximity to old friends, old loves, and old enemies. And, it turns out, in a theatre. The theatre is where he's hiding out, due to the aforementioned old enemies, while a few deals go down which, hopefully, keep him alive. And, in traditional Vlad style, he can't resist poking into other people's problems - or they can't resist involving him. The theatre itself is beautifully built. Every line adds some texture, some history, tells you about stories, about drama, about why the players company exists, who they are, what they need - and why being able to tell their stories, to live their needs, is important. Not just for them, but for everyone. For individuals, and Empires. Because stories have power, especially the ones we tell ourselves. Look at Vlad, who has reinvented himself more times than I have hats, who now just wants to build a life. Look at him as he walks through a theatre, sword at his hip, Jhereg on his shoulders, righting wrongs almost by reflex, and doing it because it's not just the right thing to do, but the necessary thing.

And that's before those old enemies come into play, getting rather aggressive in their efforts to drag him out of hiding.

At this point in the Jhereg series, you're either starting fresh here, or asking if this one is worth the investment you put into the previous books in the series. If you're coming in new. Hmm. Vlad is smart and funny and oblique, and has a lot of old friends you may not be familiar with. Sit with him as he figures out, from inside a theatre-shaped bottle, how to save his friends and himself without dying first. You're going to see some high quality schemes, some delightful banter, and occasional bouts of knife-edge action. If you're coming in as a fan though...you're probably starting to see different pieces of Vlad's past falling into place. You can see a larger game that's been playing out across the entire series and is starting to come to fruition. But you'll also see a familiar, late-period Vlad, still struggling to figure out who he is, but absolutely determined not to let anyone else tell him either. A man accustomed ot action, now having to acclimatise himself to thinking, planning, and patience. Being the person holding the blade, and not the tip of the blade itself. Lyorn is a story about the law, and about honour, and about what society is willing to accept and what it isn't - and it's a story about saving lives and yourself.

In short, it's a Taltos story, and a really good one, at that. If you're unfamiliar, give it a try (or go read Jhereg!). If you're a fan - yes, you're going to want this one.

Saevus Corax Gets Away With Murder - K.J. Parker

Honestly, how very dare they? K.J. Parker put out an entire trilogy in the last few months of 2023, firing them off at a rapid pace while, frankly, also firing on all cylinders. We looked at the first two books last year, and thought that they were vintage iterations on Parker's signature style - darkly humorous, intelligent but ruthless interlocutors, and a rich, deeply detailed world that feels very real. And I'm here to tell you that they've done it again. Saevus Corax is back, and so is K.J. Parker.

Saevus continues to be, well, who they've always been. A wry, apologetic protagonist, who refuses to flinch away from the decisions they make, even when those decisions are appalling, or selfish, or sometimes both. Saevus Corax is not a very nice man. But he's charming, and very, very clever - sufficiently so that most of his ideas look like they're the right thing to do, when you get down to it. And if they're a multi-layered shell game with a gambit buried on a gambit buried on a gambit - well, surely this time you've figured out what he's up to. Surely this time you won't be the collateral damage in his life. And sometimes...sometimes that's true. Sometimes you're going to make some money and walk away clean, And sometimes a very apologetic man is going to have to rip your throat out with his teeth, as step fifteen of an escape plan that's step forty of a plan to take over an Empire that's step ninety in a plan to be left alone. Because that reads like Corax, to me. He always says he wants a quiet life, but he's always surrounded by forces that act on him, that force his agency. He claims this of course, but whether he could get what he wanted in other ways, who knows. Maybe he wants answers, maybe he wants an ending. It's...an opaque question, even if this story lifts the veil on it somewhat. We've known since the first book that Corax is defined by an interstitial moment, when he killed his brother., Possibly accidentally. Even he isn't sure. Whether that matters, well, it matters to him. Maybe trying to find a way out of that moment is what's get Corax in the whirlpool, stopping him from cutting his throat or meditative retreat - because he wants to know, or at least, to decide, who he is, and that moment is clouded enough that it's hard to say for sure. Much like the person surrounding it, that killing is arcane, occluded. Well, here's some more of the story of the past and the now, showing us who Corax used to be, and, well deciding who he is now.

All of this is done against a backdrop of, if not war, at least not yet, then simmering tensions coming to a boil. Corax has been at the right place the right time in the last few books, keeping civilisation away from catastrophe mostly as a means of preserving his own skin. But time rolls on, and people just can't seem to keep themselves away from a good civilisation-shattering roar. And maybe Corax doesn't want to, need to, stop this one. In part that's due to his own connections - the antagonistic, business-like friendships and camaraderie he shares with his gang of salvagers, always shocked they'll come back for him, unless they don't. Are they really friends? Or just looking out for the same Big Score?  And the same applies to his ongoing friendship and occasional murderous rivalry with a competitor. Is she a colleague? A friend? Something more? Likely to slit his throat in the night to save herself or make a pile of gold? Or save him from a mob and walk away empty handed from the deal of a lifetime? Or all of these. Something Parker does well is lay out complex, grounded personalities, and not tell us too much, letting us try and peer at their motives and their truths through a half-darkened glass, as unsure of what they're doing as they are themselves. 

This is Corax's swan song, and it's really rather well done. The stakes ramp up quickly, and the sense of being at the bottom of a hill and hearing the advancing rumble of an avalanche is an unnervingly apposite one. This is a story that'll pull you close, hammer a blade into your heart, then wish it hadn't had to do it while emptying your pockets. This is a smart story, an emotionally complex, very personal story about a man who may save or damn the world, while trying to find out who he is. And it's funny and bloody and sometimes so sharp you might cut yourself. If you've come this far with Saevus Corax, I can only say that you must see him through to his ending - it's worth it.