Metaphorosis Reviews

Summary

Out on a lonely beach, the last of a line of ritualists whose purpose is forgotten is about to die. Just about then, or soon after, alchemists in Ankh-Morpork discover how to make celluloid and project movies. But there may be more to the lure of Holy Wood than just fame and fortune.

Review

This is, in a general sense, very familiar territory for Pratchett in that he’s satirizing a known element – in this case the film industry. The story itself veers among satire, parody, and just plain fun. And it is fun. While Pratchett can be a bit uneven and lose track of the need for the book to entertain (as opposed to the line), here’s he’s pretty consistent.

The story itself is fun, and of course does have many of those funny Pratchett moments – a few, very funny. The scenery is a deliberate amalgam of every movie cliche you can imagine, and then some, and it all works pretty well.

Funny and with a pretty good story in it.

Summary

Dungeon Crawler Carl, Donut, and their friends have made it to the sixth level of the dungeon aliens created from Earth for their own fun and profit. Carl is sick of the whole pointless process, but to make a stink about it, he and Donut will have to power through as usual, making odd alliances, and killing monsters left and right.

Review

Yet again, I’ve enjoyed this episode in the saga of Matt, Donut, and the increasingly off-kilter AI that runs the dungeon. In many ways, it’s reminding me of Martin Scott’s Thraxas books. There’s not a lot that’s new in each one; they stick to a familiar formula. But they’re consistently fun and easy to read; they’re books I enjoy picking up.

In this volume, Dinniman hasn’t picked up the pace quite as much as I’d expected, though he does finally do that a bit at the end. It’s more – to use the terminology of the book – grinding progress, though that sounds a lot more pejorative than I intend. In brief, there’s a lot more leveling up and dungeon level accomplishment than there is real forward progress in the larger narrative. The book is currently listed as a 7 book series, though I’m not sure whether that’s the intended total. I do start to worry a bit that this will become a Vlad Taltos formula book, with a great beginning devolving into the same story and jokes over and over. The dungeon has (I think) 18 levels, and even a dozen books would be taking a good thing way too far. Still, so far, so entertaining, and I hold out hope that Dinniman, like his protagonist, has a plan.

Larger picture aside, we do get the usual crop of goodies here: Carl and Donut are good at heart, there’s some relationship development, there are cool items and spells, etc. We also get the usual weaker points: it’s often hard to follow what’s happening or why, and the geography is vague. The point, though, is that to date, the goodies far outweigh the weak points, and these books are just a lot of fun.

I do continue to think, though, that the old covers are a lot better than the new ones.

I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review.

Summary

In the cold, dusty confines of Grey Tower, where few remain, the last Guardian has died, and with her last breath charged her young apprentice with a message: "Tell Black it's coming." As unexpected winter sets in on the Grey district, the newly-named Mother has also set out to ask a question of the Black Lady who leads the palace. Can either of them reach their goal before the fabled Beast emerges?

Review

I’ve read a number of books that follow in the footsteps of Mervyn Peake’s Gormenghast books. Few do so successfully. Alex Pheby’s Mordew made a good effort, but got a little carried away with itself. This book does much better. As with Mordew, it carves out a home in the Gormenghast neighbourhood without actually trying to be Gormenghast.

Pechaček’s decaying, overgrown palace is confusing, filled with obscure ritual, and shows us the misery of the underlings (and sometimes the leaders) of the realm, ground down by obeisance to tradition. It goes a step further in inserting a cast seemingly drawn from a Bosch painting, but treated as absolutely normal (and, in fact, charming). The result is excellent – a rich, hyper-gothic tableau of slow, epic adventure undertaken by confused but noble actors, all against a carefully revealed ancient tragedy, with dryly humorous asides. I loved it.

Where I think Pechaček goes wrong is in focusing so much on the enticing visual imagery – one clever oddity after another – rather than story. The characters spend most of the book trying to get one place or another, and it often began to feel more like a travelogue than a narrative – look at this! And this! And now this! Aren’t they intriguing and grotesque? They are, but to my mind scenery is in aid of story, not in place of it. It’s almost immediately clear that the author has a broad, slant-wise imagination; we don’t need to see proof after proof after proof. The imagery doesn’t fit or work as well, for example, as the vocabulary, which is rich and varied, but generally doesn’t feel like the author is putting it on display (as opposed to choosing just the right and fitting word for the occasion).

The interior art, by the author, is not to my usual taste, but is excellent for the purpose, and genuinely adds another dimension. I’m not sure why Tor felt the need for a different cover artist.

To be fair, Pechaček does land the story pretty well. Early on, I had concerns, but as the book progressed, I grew more and more confident that he would treat the reader well, and he does. There could have been a touch more clarity on one of the two endings, but overall, it reads well, left me satisfied, and left me a definite Pechaček fan. Here’s hoping that for his next book, he does something equally interesting, but very, very different.

One more caveat, I suppose – as with Gormenghast, I found the geography of the palace impossible to unravel, and not a match for either of the maps that is provided.

I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review.

Summary

Firstborn, archangels, and angels have survived three waves of chaos and built a heaven to hide in. And a plan to form a more permanent refuge for future angels starts with the best of intentions. How, then, does it all go so wrong?

Review

To Reign in Hell may well be the first Steven Brust novel I read. It may have been Jhereg, but it may equally have been this, especially with an introduction by Roger Zelazny to draw me in. In any case, I recall being just as sceptical as Zelazny of the subject matter. But, like him, I was wrong. Along with Jhereg, this was the book that convinced me Brust really knew what he was doing. I just wish he’d kept at it.

You wouldn’t think, even back in the 1980s, that there was much new to be done with Abrahamic mythology. But you’d be wrong. This is brilliant, carefully constructed omedy of errors. It’s fun to read, with just the right touch of wry humor. It’s by far the best treatment of the concept I’ve seen.

Brust does cheat a bit in places. He splits Satan and Lucifer into separate beings. And where here both are show in a sympathetic light, a key catalyst in some ways takes their place by being venal and selfish without much cause.

But overall, I think this is great, and I enjoyed it as much on this re-read 40 years later as when I initially read it. Then, Brust was largely unknown to me aside from Liavek and possibly Jhereg. Now, I think of him as an extremely talented writer who just stopped trying a long time ago. But this early book is still terrific – from that early period when he was trying, and when his books were fantastic in all the right ways. It didn’t last long, but the reason he’s still around is because of books like this one.

I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review.