Steve
This was suitably energetic and largely kept me involved to the end, but it did commit the cardinal sin (in my eyes) of mashing together a serialized story into a single book without any additional editing. This meant that there was a lot of repeated sentences (and not just in a Basil Exposition sense), and also at least one place where a statement in one chapter seemed to disagree with the previous chapter. So, a good read, but a few minor faults meant I kept bouncing out of the story. Still, if there was a (better edited) sequel, I would be interested.
Maybe a 3.5 if I’m being generous? While the story is intriguing, the execution is muddy. It is never really clear what anybody’s motivations are, and the on-the-brink-of-collapse world-building is depressing. It feels like the author had a goal in mind, but I could never work out what that was (something about refugees and colonialist attitudes?). The authors also had a very odd turn of phrase when it comes to similes; they sound poetically original, but fall apart if you think about them too long...
This is probably my favorite series in all of fantasy, although I am still processing the conclusion to the pentalogy. The book manages to explain most of the mysteries and tie up the majority of the threads, creating a satisfying conclusion, while still managing to set up the next series by ending on a cliffhanger—or perhaps not quite a cliff, but certainly a steep incline. Granted, while reading, you may find yourself constantly asking, "Does it really need to be this long?"—but the payoff in the end is always worth it.
This is likely one of the earliest examples of cozy fantasy. The stakes are deliberately low, with little to no real peril. The plot revolves around a suspected theft at a fair, sparking an investigation that unfolds alongside an exploration of the characters’ relationships. A touch of magic weaves through the narrative, adding to its charm. The author aptly describes the setting as a “Gentle World,” perfectly capturing the book’s essence. If you’re in search of something truly cozy, this book is a great choice.
This is a good reimagining of Harry Potter that stands out for its convincingly different cultural setting. While some may object to the comparison—arguing that shared tropes are inevitable—the story mirrors too many key beats from HP to feel entirely coincidental. That said, this is less a critique and more an observation, as the distinctive setting and cultural influences lend the narrative its own unique identity. However, these parallels can occasionally feel a bit distracting.
One aspect that gave me pause was the handling of violence. As in Binti, the consequences of violence and death seem surprisingly minimal, leaving little in the way of lasting impact. This feels especially incongruous given that, in the UK, the book has been retitled and marketed with a younger audience in mind—an odd choice, as the content and themes seem better suited to an older readership.
Overall, this is a solid fantasy and a quick read, though very much part of a continuing series, so don’t expect a neatly wrapped conclusion. While it has its merits, I am not sure if I’m compelled to continue with the series.
On the positive side, the collection feels like an authentic representation of a culture unfamiliar to me, one imbued with a sense of magic—either just beneath the surface or woven into everyday life. There is a strong thread of magical realism running through the stories. The two standout pieces, in my opinion, are The Last Storyteller, which skillfully blends science fiction elements with cultural nuances, and The Flying Man of Stone, which leans towards a more allegorical and magical realist tone.
On the downside, most of the stories felt underdeveloped, reading more like outlines than fully fleshed-out narratives. The heavy reliance on telling rather than showing was a particular drawback for me, as were the numerous plot holes. That said, I could imagine these as fireside tales, meant to be shared aloud in the flicker of flames, where simplicity might serve their purpose. However, as satisfying reads, they didn’t quite work for me.
Two mediocre stories, joined by the interstitial gimmick of injecting the author from the “real” thread into the fantasy thread. I’ve generously bumped this up to 4 stars, for the effort, but to be honest there is not much beyond the main gimmick. Both story threads are very slight, with a whole lot of hand-waving and loose ends, not much in the way of real threat, and the fantasy romance feels very underwritten. At least the story moves fairly quickly.
Given that this appears to be generally highly rated on Goodreads, I’m guessing I’ve wandered into an unfamiliar genre or fandom and so am missing something.
Update: I’ve just noticed that they compare this to Terry Pratchett in the blurb, which such an egregiously unwarranted comparison I have downgraded this to 3 stars. Do not be fooled; the closest this gets to Pratchett is the junk mail that he found on his doormat in the mornings.
An engaging story full of found-family dynamics and vengeful gods (and humans). I went into this thinking it was a standalone, but as the ending approached, it became clear that several major plotlines were still unresolved. Despite this, the story still delivered a satisfying conclusion. I’m hopeful the next book will keep up the momentum.
A bit of a weird one. This starts off feeling very YA, with an extremely tell-don't-show first half, that rushes through a whole bunch of exposition before things finally pick-up, and get much more violent, in the second half. The story is a sub-Rivers of London urban fantasy, which is set, for no clear reason, in 1983. The author has an odd obsession with unnecessary detail, with the make of every car and gun clearly noted, as is the author of every book (of which there are lots). Whenever a gun is mentioned, the main character's ability to clearly identify the make and model is explained away as the result of a specific film or book (given that there is no other reason why the average British woman - or person in general - in 1983 would have such knowledge).
So, the second half makes the book readable, and gains it the 4th star, but otherwise this feel very uneven.
I'm not sure how to describe this. Maybe: cozy found-family story, with body horror, that explores what it means to identify and be identified? The pronouns are a trip; I'm not sure I ever really got the bottom of what the difference is between them all. I guess it does a good job of driving home the message that, in a diverse universe, insisting on a binary choice is a little nonsensical.
Well, that was cheery. This is very much tell don’t show, so your enjoyment will depend on your tolerance for “And in X did Y slay Z” declamations. Personally, my tolerance has obviously dropped way off since the days when I had the patience to slog through The Silmarillion. At least it was relatively short. One for the completionists.
This is another tale which sticks closely to true accounts of actual events, which does mean there is more intrigue than action, as our heroes act more as observers than as key players. Having said that, the American backdrop is refreshingly different, and the crucial action scenes are all as well-rendered as ever.
The narrative strikes a satisfying balance, offering enough depth to engage without becoming overwhelming. A self-aware tone humorously highlights the absurdities of Greek myth, making the gods' juvenile and petulant behaviors more palatable, and the tangled web of incestuous relationships easier to follow. Naturally, with Stephen Fry narrating, the audiobook beautifully captures the author's avuncular charm, adding warmth and wit to the experience.
Contains spoilers
Compared to the first in the trilogy, this was more solid than compelling. It felt like some events in this were simply there to propel the plot, rather than being natural extensions of the plot. Also, I am not entirely convinced by the way to action scenes are written; they feel underwritten and confused (one scene of conflict felt more like slapstick than action, and I am not sure that was intended).
In any event, this kept me involved enough to want to read the conclusion of the trilogy (if only to discover if the slightly weird reveal that Eborans were created by aliens pays off in some way).
Another stirring tale of life on the high seas. A bit less Stephen Maturin in this one but also, curiously, a little less Jack Aubrey, since this is closely mapped to real-life events around Mauritius in 1809. With Jack's temporary promotion to Commodore placing him at the top of the local command structure, he is less directly involved in the action, acting more as an observer. Not that the story really suffers from this, although it does mean that it often falls to others get involved in the thick of it. There is also an interesting minor sub-plot about the possible mental tolls of life in the navy, which makes an unusual diversion.