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.

See you in 2024!

 That's right gang, we're done for another year.

Looking forward to bringing you more reviews of upcoming SF&F stories in the new year!

Saevus Corax Captures the Castle - K.J. Parker

The new Parker trilogy is releasing at a rapid pace this year, following up Saevus Corax Deals with the Dead with this new volume. And, in case you were wondering, yes, it is rather good. I will sound a note of caution that it hits a lot of the same notes stylistically as the previous volume. Our protagonist is smart, funny, determined to just keep his head down and out of the way - and yet catastrophic, world altering events seem to always catch him in their wake. Or the other way around, I suppose. There's civilisations that look familiar if you squint and turn your head to the left a bit, some genuinely funny dialogue, and a viciously dark view of the world which also holds up the best of humanity even as it washes its hands of 'em.

Which is to say, it's a K.J. Parker book; by this point, you probably know what you're getting in terms of structure and tone. I will say though that the story remains as wonderfully byzantine as ever (in several senses), the characterisation is detailed, multi-faceted and occasionally throws out a total surprise, and the technical execution in general is top tier. If you liked the previous Corax book, you won't fond this one disappoints. 

Saevus Corax remains as charming, devious and occasionally outright brutal as ever. Or perhaps I should say ruthless, given hsi gift for playing all the angles. In this instance, those angles involve a castle. And how one might take that away from the people currently in it, and keep hold of it afterward. It's a simple conceit (and one which, to be fair, doesn't take up the entire book, which instead pinwheels out of control from there in a very satisfying fashion). But it allows us to see Corax in full flow. To live inside the monologue of someone about to make some very bloody decisions, for the very best of reasons. And later a plan inside another plan inside another. Like an onion, except with arrows and big rocks. There's further, somewhat cryptic delving into his past as well, piecing together things the man himself has tried to forget for quite a while - and which, as these things do, are likely to come back at the worst moment. Again, like an onion, we see sides to Corax we didn't find in the last book - and it's a triumph that Parker can show us these layers, show us the psychological and physical cost of being Saevus Corax, and make him both sympathetic and an unrepentant terror. In any event, Corax remains a fine fellow to share a head and an inner monologue with; just don't accept any wine he gives you.

The story rattles along nicely between reveals, crosses, double crosses and so on. It also moves geographically, including a richly wrought ersatz Byzantine empire, complete with theatres and mail coaches - and other, far stranger places I wont get into for fear of spoilers. Suffice to say, they're eerily alive as well. And the book itself remains a solid, entertaining read moment to moment - from battle debris to sieges to night rides to love and promises and betrayal, there's something for everyone. And the sheer accessibility of Corax as a narrator, his cheerful unreliability and ruthlessness, is what makes it work, and kept me turning pages on and on and on. If you're a Parker fan, it'll probably work for you, too - go give it a whirl.

System Collapse - Martha Wells

 

Murderbot is back!  And it's about time. This series has been a runaway success, and I must admit that in my view it's entirely deserved. I've been champing at the bit for a new Murderbot novel since, well, since about a day after the release of the last one. And, well, here it is. Is it any good? Dear reader, the answer is an unmitigated yes. If you're a fan, and up to date with the series: Go out and pick this one up right away. If you're not: Go and read the rest of the series, then go out and pick this one up right away.

Now that that's out of the way. 

Murderbot, eh? It's a fantastic protagonist, a fish out of water that isn't entirely sure whether it wants to be in the water or invest in some sort of aquatic environmental suit. Murderbot doesn't know exactly what it is, but it knows it isn't an AI, or a robot, or a human. But it's also determined to be a person, on its own terms, with an ethical framework spun up from first principles, with the help of sci-fi space operas and rather a lot of sarcasm. And it's going well, between ups and downs, corporate takeovers, hostile alien assimilations and the odd drone-battle, Murderbot is figuring itself out. But there's a lot to unpack there - and this is a story about how Murderbot isn't alright, actually, and how that's okay. Because after everything its seen and done, Murderbot is having to handle some fairly impressive trauma...but also keep people alive, and do all kinds of heroics, when it would clearly much rather be watching its shows. 

One of the strong points of the series has been the way it delves into emotion, into how and why we feel the way we do. Approaching the idea that it's okay not to be okay, Wells wraps it in a panacea of banter and explosive action, but the raw, emotional honesty of Murderbot remains. It's digging around to figure out what it is, and why it doesn't feel right. And as readers, we can live that struggle, empathise with that pain, cheer on that discovery and, perhaps, recovery. This is a book which talks about isolation, about depression, about identity and that sense of belonging (or not). And it hurts to read and think about and empathise over, but it also feels true. 

That said. Don't worry if the above isn't entirely your cup of tea. Because we aren't entirely here to unpick Murderbot's psyche. We're also here to save the world. Well, a world, anyway. Because Murderbot and its friends are currently far out on a limb, trying to dig a colony of hapless people out of the alien-contaminated soup they got themselves into, while fending off the ever helpful efforts of a rapacious interstellar corporation, which isn't entirely above bringing in a squad of bots of its own, to help things go the way it wants. You can always rely on this series to poke fun at corporate culture in service of painting a dystopian corporate future, and it does so with all the grace and lethality of a stiletto between the ribs. The planet itself, the claustrophobic tunnels packed with wary colonists and alien remnants that might be time-bombs, is familiar from earlier in the series, but no less well realised for that; the cramped habitats and dusty, wayward tram tracks into looming darkness remain as ominously mundane as ever. Murderbot's world is a plausible one, a lived in one, one you may see in your minds eye a year or ten from now. A warning to us, and possibly a promise. 

As for the story, well. Absolutely stellar. This is a thoughtful, action-packed story about people, and also humans. And it has a heart to it, and an emotional weight and gravitas that you can feel *searing* into you off the back of every page.

And it has the banter you're looking for, maybe. And it has the snark. But it also has points to make about corporations and how we choose to live our lives while we try and make good choices. And about the agency we have to make choices. And it explores consequences and it hurts and it'll jerk tears and pain right out of you by being a story about a sarcastic Murderbot which is also real and raw and true and painful and vulnerable in its honesty.

Another fantastic entry in the series - and thoroughly recommended.

Back next week!

 We've been at the doctors and it turns out neither of us can type much at the moment without suffering - so we'll be back next week!