Back in 2023!

 It's the holiday season for us. I hope everyone out there has a great holiday, and we'll see you at the start of 2023 for another year of reading and talking about it!

Ashes of Man - Christopher Ruocchio

Ashes of Man is the latest in the saga chronicling the life of Hadrian Marlowe, Knight of the Solarian Empire, fast talker and swift actor, the man who wanted to speak to an alien race, and then discovered they were full of monsters, the man who found and fought some of the ancient horrors of Earth's future-past, general, sage, and quite possibly unable to die. Marlowe contains multitudes. The story is written in his voice, giving us his viewpoint and his version of events, and Marlowe is determined that he's not a hero. How he gets from where he is at the start of Ashes of Man to his nebulous, book-writing fate, is rather more unclear. But the clash between who he thinks he is, and the way the galaxy sees him is an interesting one. At the same time, we know that he has a future, at least - and by the same token, we know this is a march toward tragedy and joy in, possibly, equal measure.

 Narratively, this is beautifully crafted. Hadrian is back, rebuilding his life after a term as a POW in the hands of an enemy that is monstrous almost to a fault, creatures who regard humanity as a food source, and are prepared to have a discussion on politics ans the ethics of slavery before hanging you up by your thumbs and devouring your mates. He's not broken, Hadrian, but he's not the same either, someone coming back to terms with himself and with society. He's somewhat untethered, no longer as certain either of his own guiding lights, or of his own self-understanding. It's an interesting look for a man who has led armies, and has now stepped out of the shaodw of death and into a world that seems almost to have forgotten him while he's been away. It's a story that reaches toward reawakening, rediscovery, and change. Not all of that change is good, of course. But if The Howling Darkwas a treatise in part on the fall of man and self actualisation, this is about the rise of that man from his knees, and his determination to be better, and to fight. 

Notably, this feels like a much different book to the one before it, as a more mature Hadrian, scarred in both physical and metaphorical senses by his treatment as a prisoner, resurfaces into the world. There's high politics at play, with factions of the Empire of Man playing off one another and circling for advantage. The Cielcin are still out there too, ravaging worlds and devouring or enslaving the populous. And the Extras, those of humanity who have changed themselves boudy and soul, they're hanging on as well, always looking for means to serve their own inscrutable but typically unpleasant goals. If you're here for politics, good news! And if you're here for thoughts on what makes people who they are, or for examinations of the relationships that keep us grounded, the friendships and loves and sorrows that make us who we are, well, there's a lot of that here too. But this is also a book which packs in a heck of a lot of adrenaline, with the kind of action that can make your heart pound - from orbital bombardment and the graceful quiet dance of death among the stars, to the messy, bloody melee that happens down below, there's something fore everyone. 

And that's what this is, really, a top-notch science fiction adventure story. It's smart, it's occasionally surprisingly funny. It's heartfelt and emotional and genuine. It's bloody and deadly and unafraid. It has action, adventure and really wild things, and it has quiet human moments that remind you who you are and what you have and what you've lost. It also has swords and sorcery and techno-magery and politics and chaos, all in one wonderfully blended package. 

This is, in sum, another winner from Ruocchio; go pick it up. 

Back next week!

 Everyone's been down with the plague here for two weeks - we'll be back next week!

A Gamble of Gods - Mitriel Faywood

Full disclosure, the author asked me to read this one. But, if I'm honest, I probably would have anyway, because it combines a few things I really enjoy, and blends them up in a superlative package. There's the quick-witted, fast-mouthed swordsman, whose capacity to get into scrapes is matched only by his apparent skill at getting out of them. And the pensive, repressed scholar from a place where science has long since taken the role of magic, moving between worlds with hardly a thought, but torn from his place in the how and why of things, set adrift on the tides of circumstance. And the lady, mysterious, who walks beside them both, her internal struggles as fraught as those fought with sword and laser, carrying a power she doesn't entirely understand, and feelings she'll struggle to control.

This is A Gamble of Gods, and it's an absolute stormer of a debut, a charming, thrilling mix of science fiction and fantasy, where secret societies are running the universe behind the scenes, where a generations old conspiracy is unfolding, and where necromancy is as real, and as lethal, as a blaster bolt to the chest. But, to be up front about it, this isn't a po-faced text, filled with dour warnings and po-faced protagonists. It's a book filled with a rambunctious energy, a wry self-knowledge, and moments of on-the nose humour that made me laugh out loud more than once. It's a book which isn't afraid to dig into the emotional availability of its cast, to explore who they are, and why, and what they want; there's romance woven between the self-revelations and swordfights, the kind that balances teasing and the gentleness of emotional understanding with a soupcon of raw desire and fierce passion. 

This is a book which isn't afraid to wear its heart on its sleeve, and I kind of love it for that.

It's also a book with a hell of a lot going on. It's spread across three main characters, and at least that many locations, including, well, London. The contemporary, British London that is, not some sort of future London in the clouds. And I'll say this, Faywood makes her London come alive. The streets are just the right kind of grey and misty, you can feel the edge of that damp cold coming into your bones as you trudge up Euston road to the office, hoping to stop at Pret for a coffee. The people have the same kind of fire and honesty and fragile bravery that you see every day at house parties and restaurant gatherings in the city. The world lives, and that's something of an accomplishment, because making somewhere that is real feel real on the page is something of a challenge. But London is joined by more exotic locales, never fear. The dark forests and palace politics, the witch-ridden geography, filled with old, deadly magics, is there too. And it feels just as plausible, just as real. And so does the purported utopia of SCIENCE(!), filled with dodgy characters of every description, whose motives are unclear and often downright Machiavellian, but who can put nanoprobes in the air, siphon data from anything, or build you an invisibility cloak. And some of them are the good guys. Maybe. Probably. 

Anyway. It's a story which is at once deadly serious, and doesn't take itself too seriously. A story which lets its characters have fun, and is fun, while also being an entertaining read, and one which kept me turning pages later into the night than I care to admit. And will probably do the same for you. Definitely worth a look!

Ocean's Echo - Everina Maxwell

Ocean's Echo is a science fiction romance novel from Everina Maxwell, whose Winter's Orbit I really enjoyed reading last year. For those of you familiar with that one: this story takes place in the same universe, but without any significant crossover in character or local setting. For those of you coming to this fresh: don't worry, it's a standalone, and you don't need to know anything going in to enjoy it. On which note: what even is it? Well, it's one part sci-fi mystery, delving for ancient relics and exploring the sociopolitical ramifications of exposing people to powers their society may not be prepared for. One part character study, exploring the emotional rocks, the trauma stricken, the self destructive - and the way those emotions, and the people they're wrapped around, can find meaning and feeling and purpose and love. It's a story laced through with action and (mis)adventure, crisis and moral choice, but it's also a story of two people reaching out expecting to be hurt, and finding each other. 

Speaking of the people, who are they? Well, one of them is Tennal. Tennal is, by his own admission, a disaster area. He's smart and funny and charming and socially adept. He can manipulate people (and does), he can read people (and does). He's also prone to making poor decisions. Or decisions which will cause the maximum amount of chaos, intentionally or otherwise. In a lot of ways, Tennal is a fuse, walking around bumping into a whole variety of lit matches. For all that, he's perhaps harder on himself than anyone. Tennal has a self image that is determined to accept and be honest about his worst qualities, but skates around his more positive ones, his live wire energy and enthusiasm, his passion and compassion, his love of family. Tennal is also running hard from being a poor little rich boy. His aunt is a high up member of planetary government, and Tennel is someone who will fight against the expectations of a path laid out for him. To some success, admittedly, but also...not. Anyway. As the story begins, Tennal finds himself rather abruply put into a new situation, and watching him rebuild himself and his image, and also try and reshape the institution's he's in, is a delight. 

In this,  the aggressively civilian Tennal is helped out by the other half of our protagonist duo, Lieutenant Surit Yeni. Surit is closed off, compartmentalised, dealing with the aftermath of family tragedy and family history. He's a perfectionist, with a memory like diamond, morals to match and an expectation that everyone around him is trying their best. That expectation is often thwarted. Surit, career military, has to work with Tennal, who is the essence of everything that Surit isn't. Initially they're like oil and water, but as the story progresses...well, you'll see. 

In any case, the characterisation here is top notch. The emotions, the drives, the needs of our characters are raw and painful and genuine, and make turning the page an absolute pleasure, trying to see what they'll get up to next. 

Which brings us to the world. This is a society which has a history of violence, of the quiet rumbling of coups. It also has, more recently, a history of audacious body modification. After some rather classified experiments, parts of the population are now architects, or readers. The former can drop short term commands to cause people to do things; they seem to be prevalent in the military command structure. The latter on the other hand, can read minds, and are something of a controlled minority, following an attempted coup a few decades before the story begins. This is a world haunted by its past, by a history of struggles for advantage, trying to decide if this is going to be the time it settles down and has a bit of a quieter period, a world still trying to work out how to deal with the mind alterers and mind readers it's it's introduced into society. A world where the military divisions are large enough and competitive enough to almost be private fiefdoms. And it's also a world that has to keep one cautious eye on the skies, because out there, a larger intra-system community is watching, and waiting for any opportunity to step in to their affairs. There is, in other words, a lot of history going on, and that history is informing this story, which also has a lot going on. The setting is plausible, the background and context introduced to the reader with a skill that means it never feels like you're just getting an infodump, while giving you a rich tapestry as background to what the characters are up to. It is, in other words, a real world. 

I don't want ot talk about the story, because spoilers, and because if I'm honest, I couldn't put it down while wanting to know what happened next, and I don't want to ruin it for you. But! Yes, there's romance in here. If you're not really here for that, I'll note that it's relatively low key, and entirely relevant to the characters and their situation. It's also gloriously queer, but that's another topic. Anyway. There's a lot of politics here. And a lot of scheme and counter scheme. There's personal drama, and the kind of individual stakes that make you gasp and feel the tension in your gut while the protagonists try and solve the unsolvable. There's ground warfare and mind powers, and lots of delving in deep space into things which perhaps would have been better left undisturbed. In short, there's a damn good story, and I encourage you to give it a try. 

Children Of Memory - Adrian Tchaikovsky

Children of Memory is the third in Adrian Tchaikovsky's Children of Time series, and much like its predecessors is, to be frank, an absolute banger of a story. It's also, that aside, a book that's difficult to describe succinctly. It's a book that grapples with big ideas about mortality and personhood, but also explores the more personal, intimate stories of people struggling to make lives in a hostile environment - and, to be fair, some of those people aren't necessarily human. That dovetailing of big ideas with emotional, honest, intimate moments is something Tchaikovsky has mastered, and it works well again here. If you're here for the raw, messy, wonderfully crafted characters, you're good. If you're here for a plot that will grab hold as tension ramps up and into catharsis and up again,..you're good. If you're here for an imaginatively crafted future and an exploration of larger concepts in a narrative framework, then again, this one's for you. Which is a long winded way of giving the short version, this is a damn good book, and you should read it. 

Speaking of the world. Well, we're in an interesting space here. Humanity is out of the bottle, in ships that can leap between solar systems, looking for any of its own. They're looking on planets that were scheduled for colonisation before the collapse of civilisation on Earth put a damper on things. Post-recovery, we're once again out here causing trouble. Though now we're doing it with friends, including sentient spiders, octopi, and bacteria which can absorb personalities and craft bodies and take them for a ride.  It's an absolutely wild space, and one that's about to get even stranger. There's two major pieces of setting at play. One is a colony, populated by humans, whose past history we're slowly exposed to over the course of the book. A hardscrabble world on the bare edge of possible survivability, and a crew struggling to make things sustainable while thawing out the frozen sleeper cargo they brought with them gives things a terrifying frontier feel.  The blend of the high tech and the low, the struggle at the edge of survivability, gives the setting an immediacy and a power it's hard to overemphasise. You can feel for these people, scrounging out a life from soil they have to make live for them, while overhead a sleeper ship circles in high orbit. And then, well, then there's the birds. Survivors of a research and terraforming team gone horribly wrong after collapse, evolving under pressure into duos that between them manage a convincing appearance of sentience, but individually definitely aren't. As characters they're fantastic, and I'll chat a bit more about that in a second, but wanted to say that the history of these duos, the desperation of a team trying to build something from the wrong side of societal collapse, that history is fantastic, Vividly imagined, authentically described, laced with the emotion and passion and horror that makes for authentic life.

The characters match that feeling actually. There's the captain of the slow seed ship, desperately trying to pull tech and crew from the shattered remnants of his craft, and build a civilisation back up from nothing. Surrounded by his command crew and survivors, you can feel the pressure on them all, you can feel the passion and energy that animates a people who know that their survival is not guaranteed. Who know that the survival of everyone after them is not guaranteed. Who know they have to build something. They're people, top to toe. But the same is true of the ravens, talking to each other and construction their discussions with other people in terms of cultural references and constructed meaning. They're people, even if they're different. And the people of our future, the octopi and the living gestalts and the spiders and the humans learning to be better. They're all people, even in they're not all humans. And the differences of their lived experience are often, though not always subtle. And it's amazing how they all feel like people, but they also feel strange. But they feel genuine, and that's what matters - the experiences are comprehensible but different, and that's sometimes hard to get used to, but it's also an absolute delight. These are living breathing real people, they're just different to us, and how we expect to be. But they're amazingly well realised, and great fun to read. 

Which is true of the story too. I won't spoil it , because there's some twists in there that took me a little while to absorb. But I will say that it works across multiple layers. This is a story which explores what it means ot be sentient. Explores the collapse and rebuilding of societies. Explores how people cope and manage in crisis. Explores identity and reality. But also explores family relationships and friendships and meaning. It doesn't shy away from either of these, and builds a story that is emotionally wracking but also an extremely compelling page-turner of action and adventure and mystery as a result. 

Which brings me back to the beginning: this book is an absolute banger, Tchaikovsky has hit it out of the park again, and you should, if you're a sci-fi fan, read it

Blackbirds - Chuck Wendig

So, Blackbirds. I’m a bit late to the party on this one, but better late than never. It’s the first in Chuck Wendig’s Miriam Black series, walking alongside a woman who, on skin contact, will see how someone is going to die. Black is smart, but as sharp and cutting as strong acid. She’s hurt, and willing to let her life tailspin until, well, it doesn’t. In the meantime, she moves between jobs, between towns, between dead people, just keeping the wolf from the door, and trying not to think too hard. The universe, of course, has other plans. 

This story feels, in a lot of ways, like a contemporary thriller. Miriam Black is on the run in an America we can all recognise from television. Maybe not one we’d especially like to visit though. Cookie-cutter suiburbanism is elsewhere. These are the cockroach riddled motel rooms, the truck stop bathrooms, the silent depths of the US experience, writ large on its public consciousness. There’s something weirdly private about it too - Miriam navigates her mental geograpy as much as the physical, but both are more and less than they seem on the surface, and both have absolutely no shortage of nasty surprises. This is a space of movement, of transience, where nobody stays for long, and nobody wants to, skipping from town to town in beat up junkers or hitching a ride in a long haul truck cab while trying not to do a line of coke off the dashboard. It’s a sparse, grim place, and I’ll give Wendig credit, he evokes it with a lean, tight prose that makes you feel like you’re there, filling in the gaps between the words with, usually, something worse. It’s also a world filled with abrupt and occasionally lurid violence. Shootings, torture, bladed weapons, and some truly brutal, intimate hand to hand fighting. It’s all here, and approached in an unflinching way which, if I’m honest, didn’t sit well with me. It felt a little too much for its own sake. That said, I also know it works for a lot of people, and as a style and mood choice it fits perfectly with the story presented, so I can’t get too upset. But, you know, go in with a gore warning in front of you, and maybe take some goggles and a plastic apron,  just in case.

Speaking of the unpleasant, well, Miriam Black is not a good time protagonist. She’s smart, obviously, but miserable, seemingly getting by on not much more than coffee and attitude. Her expectations are relentlessly low, and her miserableness, her sharp edges, and her low opinion of everyone else are saturated through every line of the story. Miriam is not a nice person, and she makes a lot of bad choices because she doesn’t believe she deserves better ones. As the narrative expands, some of the forces behind her current situation become less occluded, and who she is and why she is that way make more sense. But it’s a hard read, a dive into sorrow and depression and violence. As a character, Miriam Black is wonderfully drawn, and entirely believable, but sharing her perspective is an experience that it took me several coffees to come to terms with.  The same is true of most of the cast, to be honest, though we see most of them from a little further away than Miriam’s head. They’re almost all awful in some way or another, almost all people you’d gladly push down a mineshaft, but for all that, they’re perfectly plausible as people, terrible as they may be . A few rays of light here and there mean things aren’t quite as dark as all that, but still. Again, be ready for that sort of mood-lowerer going in. 

Having said that, the story itself is a good time. It rattles along with enthusiasm, giving us interludes in Miriam’s past, slowly building her up and out from our first impression, putting in details and shifts that change our perspective even as we walk alongside her. There’s a lot going on in this one, to be fair. Murders. Drugs. Chases across country. Interrogations. Surreal antagonists. Romance, and well, not-romance. Gunfights and aftermaths. It’s a story filled with emotional moments, stitched together by violence and loss. Did I always want to keep reading? No. But did I always turn the page anyway to see what happened next? Yes. 

I’m not sure how I feel about this, in the end. If you’re in the mood for a violent supernatural thriller that’s also a slice of Americana gone bad, you’ll love it, that’s for sure - this one’s for you.