This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on January 27, 2023.

Frolic on the Amaranthyn

By Chase A. Folmar – Sable Star Press – April 6, 2022

Review by Robin Marx

After an act of brigandry goes awry, the seductive thief Emrasarie and the hulking swordsman Uralant the Untamable find themselves at the mercy of the masked sorcerer Zelaeus. Their lives at his disposal, he compels the pair to board Numynaris’s Ark in search of forbidden arcane secrets. An enigmatic relic left by an ancient and cruel race, the colossal vessel drifts along the mist-shrouded Amaranthyn river, playing host to a hallucinatory bacchanal: the titular Frolic on the Amaranthyn. Emrasarie and Uralant soon learn that the ethereal beauty of the Ark and its Frolic conceals a deeper rot.

A briskly-paced 101-page novella, Frolic on the Amaranthyn blends swashbuckling action with nightmarish horror elements in the tradition of Weird Tales magazine. While the ornate diction and cynical approach to sorcery and its practitioners immediately bring to mind Clark Ashton Smith and Jack Vance, the diametrically opposed protagonists and their heist mission recall Fritz Leiber’s Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. The lush, phantasmagorical prose reminds the reader of Tanith Lee, late queen of dark fantasy.

Chase A. Folmar takes a broad strokes approach to both characterization and world building. The reader is not told much about the heroes or the world in which they live, just enough to serve the requirements of the story. We learn that Emrasarie is an orphan with a history of exploitation at the hands of men. She has light fingers and has learned to use her striking beauty to her advantage. Her partner Uralant, on the other hand, has a hot temper and the brawn to back it up. The setting of Frolic on the Amaranthyn has a vaguely ancient Greek feel, reinforced by Folmar’s choice in diction: this is a world in which autochthons are beholden to eupatrids, rather than one where commoners are ruled by nobles.

While character backgrounds and setting details are kept brief, Folmar revels in describing the present scene. Like Smith and Vance, he spices the text with obscure and evocative terminology. Colubrine, autolatry, myriapod, incarnadine, erubescent, inuculent, rufescent, amaurotic, etc. Nearly every page of Frolic on the Amaranthyn includes a term that would be at home in a Word-a-Day calendar. This style of prose unashamedly places flavor above accessibility, but during my first read-through of the book I resisted the temptation to reach for the dictionary. As with Smith and Vance, I elected instead to just relax and let the rhythm and musicality of the unfamiliar words wash over me. Later reviewing the book with dictionary at hand provided some additional nuance and specificity, but this extra research was not in any way required to comprehend or enjoy the book.

A world of dark beauty is presented through the poetic prose and exposition. We are reminded repeatedly that, though surface elements may be beautiful—such as the architecture and luxurious finery on display—like Zelaeus’ exquisite mask it often serves to hide a deeper corruption. For all the superficial aesthetic beauty, brutality is never far away. The upper classes subsist heavily on their inferiors, and are willing to use violence to maintain this status quo. Over the course of Frolic on the Amaranthyn, Emrasarie and Uralant learn that humanity is threatened by an even more malicious and insidious parasite.

Numerous dark fantasy and classic Sword & Sorcery elements are present in Frolic on the Amaranthyn, but the choice to have the protagonists be a romantic couple is an uncommon choice for the genre. They don’t fall in love over the course of the adventure, they’re not friends (with or without benefits), they are already dedicated to each other. This intense commitment comes into play during the course of the story, with both of them drawing strength from their bond and using it to overcome both physical trauma and mind-affecting enchantments. This aspect of the characters felt fresh and ripe for further exploration.

Frolic on the Amaranthyn delivers an exciting and fast-paced dark fantasy adventure with appealing protagonists in a distinctive setting. This reader was left hoping that Folmar will return to the duo and their intriguing world in the future.

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This review originally appeared at the Thews You Can Use Sword & Sorcery Newsletter on December 9, 2022.

Between Two Fires

By Christopher Buehlman – Ace Books – October 2, 2012

Review by Robin Marx

In fourteenth-century France, all hell is breaking loose. War and the Black Plague have ravaged the land. Survivors live in decimated villages, suspicious of their neighbors and outright hostile to outsiders. The wealthy barricade themselves in palatial manors, ignoring the devastation outside their fortified walls and feasting like there is no tomorrow. And indeed there may not be: the devout have concluded that God has turned his face from mankind, abandoning the earthly realm to the depredations of demons from the pit.

The narrative begins with a fateful encounter between Thomas, a disgraced knight, and an orphaned girl hiding in a dilapidated farmhouse with the plague-ridden remains of her father. A scarred veteran who handled himself capably in battle yet still saw his title and holdings stripped from him through the machinations of a rival, Thomas has discarded the tenets of chivalry and turned to banditry. But when this strange, vulnerable girl turns up pleading for help, against his better instincts he allows himself to become her protector. He agrees to take her as far as the next town, but unpredictable circumstances and the girl’s prophetic and compelling visions of angels and demons spur them on a much longer journey, from the ruins of Normandy to Paris and beyond.

The odyssey that follows blends perilous and down-to-earth struggles to survive with surreal encounters with the supernatural. Billed as a medieval horror novel, much of the book adopts a decidedly “grimdark” tone, somewhat akin to Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, but set in the late Middle Ages. Most characters are—justifiably—paranoid or desperate, as any stranger could be a carrier of the plague or an opportunistic brigand intent on murder and thievery. However, this gritty and earthy atmosphere gives way to a much more phantasmagorical writing style whenever Thomas and his ward come into contact with the book’s numerous supernatural threats, some demonic in the traditional Biblical sense and others verging on Lovecraftian in nature. On those rare occasions when Thomas and the girl (whose name is not revealed to the reader until surprisingly far into the book) have a brush with the sublime, Buehlman adopts a much more lyrical tone. Throughout the book the author smoothly shifts gears between these disparate styles, masterfully punctuating each scene. I wasn’t shocked to learn, after finishing the book, that Buehlman is an award-winning poet.

Another aspect of the novel that benefits from the author’s expertise is the combat scenes. Buehlman has worked with fight choreographers, trained with swords and bows, and has worked as a combat performer at numerous Renaissance Faires. This experience, coupled with the assistance of multiple medieval weaponry experts cited in the book’s acknowledgements, lends the fights in the book a vivid and naturalistic feel. Combat as presented here is weighty, brutal, and never entered into lightly. It’s about as far from swashbuckling as you can get: combatants grow tired, bystanders interfere, and a chance loss of footing is just as likely to end one’s life as a well-placed blow.

While the prose styling and robust action stand out, the most appealing element is the humanity with which Buehlman treats his characters. The hesitant, growing bond between Thomas and the girl takes center stage, but the supporting cast are also rendered with care and patience. The people that the duo come into contact with are often frightened or suspicious, or seek to take advantage, but the reader is given insight into those characters’ doubts and fears, the dire circumstances that push them to act in the manner they do. For all but the most demonic members of the cast, when a supporting character betrays or acts against the interests of the protagonists, they’re usually given an achingly sympathetic and human reason for doing so. The world is blatantly and terrifyingly broken, and they’re all doing what they can to get by.

So much of Between Two Fires deals with questions of faith, but I hesitate to label this book a Christian apologia or parable. There are physical manifestations of Biblical angels and devils aplenty, but the focus remains firmly fixed on mankind. It is a moving humanist tale, demonstrating that no angel or savior can come to the rescue without people first learning to trust, cooperate, forgive, and even love one another under the grimmest of circumstances.

Recommended to fans of grimdark fantasy or dark historical fiction. It’s a grueling journey, but the oppressive onyx storm clouds overhead hide a platinum lining.

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My first published book review, this originally appeared in New Edge Sword & Sorcery Magazine Issue #0, released on October 1, 2022. The digital edition of the complete issue is a free download.

The Obanaax: And Other Tales of Heroes and Horrors

By Kirk A. Johnson – Far Afield Press LLC – April 28, 2022

Review by Robin Marx

When Kirk A. Johnson encountered fantasy, it was love at first sight. The introduction to The Obanaax: And Other Tales of Heroes and Horrors, Johnson’s self-published debut collection, describes how as a child he was instantly transfixed by the Rankin/Bass animated adaptation of The Hobbit. Subsequent exposure to the 1950s Hercules movies and the stop-motion classics by Ray Harryhausen deepened his enthusiasm for the genre. He devoured comics like Conan the Barbarian and Warlord before moving on to more foundational works of fantasy, such as those by Robert E. Howard and the Dreamlands tales of H. P. Lovecraft.

The love affair soured as Johnson matured, however. The author reveals how, during his university years, he became increasingly disenchanted with fantasy and a great deal of entertainment media in general. Black characters tended to be stereotypical and treated unfairly if they were included at all. “The Vale of the Lost Women” (a notorious Conan story that remained unpublished during Howard’s lifetime) and the African adventures of Solomon Kane are cited as being particularly troubling.

Despite a sense of exclusion from fantasy, his interest lingered. Casual online research into Fritz Leiber’s Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser eventually led him to discover the late Charles R. Saunders’ groundbreaking Maasai-themed hero Imaro, marketed as a “Black Tarzan.”

This introduction to the sub-genre Saunders labeled Sword & Soul enthralled Johnson, inspiring him to create his own characters and world informed by the Africa of yore. Interactions with other active Sword & Soul creators like Milton Davis and P. Djeli Clark further challenged Johnson and influenced his work. His first published short story, “In the Wake of Mist,” appeared in 2011’s Griots: A Sword and Soul Anthology, edited by Davis. Published by Johnson’s own freshly-established Far Afield Press in April of 2022, The Obanaax collects four further energetic Sword & Soul adventures.

While the protagonists differ for each story, the tales all share a common setting: the continents of Mbor and Gaabar, in the remains of the fallen island empire of Xanjarnou. Given the coastal focus of the included map and the author’s own Trinidadian heritage, one might expect the stories to draw upon the culture of the Black diaspora in the Caribbean. Instead, Johnson sticks with a West African-inspired milieu. Whereas Johnson’s contemporary Davis adopts a mythologized version of Earth for his Changa tales, Johnson’s is a secondary world in which two moons rule the night sky and the spirits of the ancestral dead remain close to their descendants.

While the tribes of the savannahs are derided as unsophisticated yokels by pampered cityfolk, it is these so-called barbarians and similarly rugged mercenaries who act as the prime movers in the stories collected here.

The novella-length title story “The Obanaax” has as its heroine Wurri, a hardened nomad of the Asuah. She deals with treacherous grave robbers, a cursed bond-slave, and otherworldly threats in her quest to reclaim her people’s sacred artifact.

“The Oculus of Kii” focuses on barbarian warrior Sangara (who interestingly shares a name with the protagonist of “In the Wake of Mist,” from Griots). When a wrestling bout gone awry leaves him deeply indebted to his master, he’s dispatched on a deadly treasure hunt. Sangara is forced to contend with the spirits of the dead, masked cultists trespassing on their burial grounds, and the cult’s unholy patron.

“Cock and Bull,” the pinnacle of the book for this reviewer, features tribesman N’Gara, nicknamed “Clean” for his good looks. New to city life, N’Gara finds work as an enforcer for an avaricious merchant. He soon discovers that allegiances can be fluid in the “civilized” world. N’Gara is less of a bumpkin than he appears, however, and possesses an agenda of his own.

The book concludes with “For Wine and Roast,” a rousing tale of disparate mercenaries tasked with retrieving their merchant employer’s stolen pendant, a trinket of considerable magical might.

The evocative presentation of the setting was the highlight of this book. Johnson conjures a world in which nguimb-clad sell-swords rub shoulders with rich merchants in silken mbubb gowns, drinking sorghum beer from calabash bowls in daakaa drinking houses lit by gourd lanterns. Like Michael Moorcock, Johnson is able to give the reader just enough scaffolding to set a scene without overburdening them with excess exposition. The text is also generously spiced with terms from a variety of West African languages like Wolof, Malinke, and Songhay. A glossary is tucked away in the back matter, but usually context clues make the non-English terms’ meanings obvious.

The author also excels when his heroes are thrown into armed conflict, particularly with supernatural opponents. The action scenes are frenetic and viscerally described, and Johnson’s monsters run the gamut from oozing, tentacled horrors to all-too-solid masses of bulging muscle.

In the introduction Johnson acknowledges that he is still polishing his craft, and he runs into trouble when his plots become less straightforward. Some of the stories introduce twists late in the game; a seemingly implacable enemy may have a change of heart, or an ally might prove less steadfast than originally thought. At times these sudden developments are not as handled as elegantly as they could have been, and some additional foreshadowing or telegraphing could have helped these moments land with more dramatic impact.

For a self-published volume, the prose is largely typo-free, but it would have benefited from another editing pass. Commas occasionally appear in mystifying locations, or are conspicuous by their absence.

While this book is a promising debut, one gets the sense that Johnson’s best tales lie ahead, as his raw talent is honed by experience. That being said, Sword & Sorcery fans are fortunate that representation in the form of Saunders’ Imaro managed to coax this fresh talent back into the fantasy fold. Johnson is an author to watch.

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