Despite being a good story, Twisting the Rope was a bit of a disappointment as it played less with the idea of Mayland Long as mythical beast. It did feel like MacAvoy wanted to play further with a different type of story but had been expected to produce another Mayland Long book so wrote this story with him and Martha in place. Not to mention the very eighties cover this had with a bikini-clad woman on the cover.
The main mystery was brilliant though, with so many possible motives and a very peculiar setting. I enjoyed how all the pieces fell together for the ending, and intend to reread.
Have you read any jarring sequels recently?
I didn’t enjoy Damiano as much as Tea with the Black Dragon, with the characters being less compelling and the setup being odder.
I think the hero already being on first name terms with the Archangel Raphael actually made him less appealing to me, as from there he could only fall. It would have been better in my view if the first book had been Damiano’s father’s death, and he had come into his powers and artistic ability within the story.
Of course it is not all fall, and ultimately he does choose the course of action of maximum growth towards the end. But that the start of the book is just a long drift downwards without much sympathy-building does not help the plot.
Its a shame, because this is well-written and an interesting idea for a plot.
Tea with the Black Dragon opens in California, with Martha Macnamara having travelled to town to try to assist her estranged daughter. But we swiftly move into crime novel territory, as the daughter fails to appear.
She doesn’t have to struggle through this alone however, as Mayland Long appears as a mystery man, hinting at having an ancient nature. As they work together to find Martha’s daughter, love quietly blooms between them.
The crime itself is revealed to be one of the modern era, with cruel and cunning players on the criminal side. Things quickly get dark and violent, even if Mayland’s level of control and power projects confidence that all will end well.
This is another Humble Bundle ebook, and I was shocked to learn that this is book is from the 1980s, it seems more contemporary. Although on reflection, the absence of the internet or mobile phones when they would have helped with the plot should have been a clue to its age. Although the writing was good, the poor quality of the typesetting did detract from the reading. The solution to this: I have ordered a paperback copy of Twisting the Rope.
I supported this year’s Super Nebula Author Showcase Humble Bundle, so my ereader is now full of sci fi. Quite a few are from Serial Box, presumably for business reasons (get the audience hooked on season one…), and this was my first exploration of this style of storytelling. Although I’m not sure I’ll get an episode subscription (partly because they only seem to have an Apple app, not Android), I can see how the model works.
The Witch Who Came in From the Cold is set in 1970 in Cold War Prague. Two superpowers are grappling to gain the upper hand in an international war. And then there is the secondary plot where the USA and USSR are playing power games.
The play for power for the occultorganisations thrives in the spy world, where the small key cast all have at least two loyalties to play with, and are torn between these. And of course, as in straight forward spy fiction, all the players are somewhat scarred from earlier missions, but continue playing their games.
I was surprised by how well the large writer team pulled together a coherent narrative, which flowed well and both reached resolution and set up a good cliffhanger for season two.
With the Numair Cronicals, Pierce is doing what she does best, and is taking us back to school. But this time we are not learning to hit things with sticks, but Numair is learning how to practise magic. Not only Numair though, we are back with his closest friends, Osborne and Varice.
We don’t start with the fiercely competent Numair from the Daine books, but an awkward Arram Draper, who is sick when watching the gladiator games when his father comes to visit. But we follow him being escalated through the normal classes as an obviously extremely talented student.
“And magic depends on perfection,” Cosmos interputed.
I love that instead of making the teachers difficult people, for the most part Pierce makes them motivated good mentors, who share their research and work with a gifted boy, as long as he works. And work hard is what he does, what all three of them do to work out how to find their own places in the world.
How Ozorne is shaped through this period, instead of being a cruel tyrant this now becomes a tragic story arc to those of us who know its conclusion. His starting place is just to be a boy who wants his own home and a place to practice magic, and he is renowned as the boy who will never get to be emperor. He does not get the same safe supportive mentors as Draper, but instead is manipulated through his grief-stricken state.
I look forward to seeing where Pierce next takes this arc, and the Numair we know is being shaped from the boy Arram.
Pullman’s Dark Materials trilogy is one of my favourite rereads. Lyra’s journey is many things: a commentary on faith, a fantasy multiverse and a coming of age story.
La Belle Sauvage is a prequel, and opens in the setting of an unfamiliar pub. But we are swiftly moved into a world of Alethiometers, scholars and the Magesterium. The nostelgia trip is complete with dæmons, witches and gyptians too.
I loved this. Pullman’s fantasy world is as rich as ever, and he continues to explore the dynamics behind abuse of power and how that affects real people.
I’m starting to get a feel for title puns here: Reaper Man is not only mostly about Death, but about Death becoming a man. And of course, if Death takes a sabbatical, all manner of chaos is set loose across Discworld. No-one can die, and energies are building up.
‘But I don’t think Death ever came for a potato,’ said the Dean doubtfully.
‘Death comes for everything,’ said the Archchancellor, firmly.
This is fast-paced, chapterless, and flits between viewpoints. Ultimately though, there are three-four main threads to the story, which all pull together for a very tidy ending. Death learns humanity and the value of a temporary existence, and the internal politics of Ankh-Morpork nearly prevent the world from being saved.
The supermarket trolleys made me laugh, and the wider theme of compassion made me think, as it was supposed to. The next book as arrived on my ereader via the library app, so I’ll be diving into that soon.
I have spent about 20 years telling people I don’t like Pratchett’s writing. Periodically I’d pick one up and give it a try, but it never quite chimed with me. Then a few people convinced me to give it another go, and I ran out of books with only my ereader on me, and spotted Mort (start of the death series) was immediately available.
For everyone who over the years has shook their heads at me not liking Pratchett, I apologise. Mort was unputdownably brilliant.
I now have Reaper Man on order at the library, only because I am too short on shelf space to buy every Discworld book right now (the long-planned library remodelling will be the subject of a later post).
I liked Mort as a character, but Death himself really was what dragged me in. His attitude to life, and kittens, along with the attempt to find an apprentice were all very compelling. The plot is perfectly paced, and the humour light.
Sadly the library auto-returned my copy before I wrote this post though, so I have lost my bookmarked quotes. I shall do better next time…
Gaiman leads us on an adventure through Norse mythology, as we discover the complex network of relationships and characters that make up this mythology. As he states, it is a shame that many of the supposed tales have been lost through time, and Gaiman only works with those that remain.
The Norse myths to me do speak of a cold mountainous land. One where powers struggle against each other to gain an upper hand, and giants roam the lands beyond. But it is a fully-realised world, with details filled in to make compelling tales.
Gaiman celebrates Loki’s cunning, whilst slightly mocking Thor’s excessive use of strength. And they are all very fallible. In fact the fallibility of the gods is most of what the stories are about, combined with their willingness to sacrifice each other for personal gain, and inhuman speed, strength and stamina.
Despite me doing so, this isn’t really a book to be read in a single sitting. It is a collection of “papers from George’s work” which hang together to build an image of what was going on behind the scenes in Tortall.
But there are gems of worldbuilding in here, and what fan could fail to love the tidbits of information that are sneaked out, including the backstory of why George wouldn’t let Aly do spy work. And how initial treaties with the Immortals were formed.
I also love that for the first time really since the Song of the Lioness, Jon becomes fully human again, a father who could do anything to protect his children, rather than the very distant and responsible figure he became under the Protector of the Small (although Aly knew him as a human, it was an abstract human given her separation from Tortall).
An essential read for any Tortall-world fans, but not a standalone piece of writing.