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This review originally appeared on Goodreads on May 28, 2019.

The Urth of the New Sun

By Gene Wolfe – Orb Books – November 15, 1997

Review by Robin Marx

In this follow-up to The Book of the New Sun, Severian, the Autarch of the Commonwealth of Urth, journeys deep into space. His goal is to acquire the New Sun, a star/energy source/person (or perhaps all of these), which is capable of replacing his planet's dying sun. While his success will ensure the survival of his planet, it carries with it a terrible price.

Much like the preceding four volumes that comprise The Book of the New Sun, I enjoyed this book but I do not feel like I entirely comprehended it. The imagery throughout the book is fanciful and layered. The narrative also has a mythic cast that reminded me a bit of Frank Herbert's Dune Messiah. Wolfe was apparently a devout Catholic and allusions are hidden in the text, but the alienness of the characters and events makes the story feel closer to esoteric Eastern mysticism than familiar Christian biblical scripture.

Adding more layers to the puzzle is the fact that Severian has absorbed the memories (and perhaps identities) of previous Autarchs, his interstellar journey appears to involve time dilation, and even after returning to Urth he encounters and reunites with various characters at different non-chronological points in their lives.

Not only is the story dense and cryptic, it is related by a narrator who is both unreliable and somewhat aloof from events. The reader is often told that he wept or contemplated suicide after some bleak or unexpected turn of events, but everything is related with a baffling degree of clinical dispassion. Severian is basically a messiah figure, but one that is not to be entirely trusted.

Whether or not a reader will enjoy this book depends a great deal on their tolerance for confusion. If vaguery and cryptic dialogue aren't turn-offs, there's a lot to enjoy here. And if you like re-reading and puzzle-solving, this series rewards it. But be certain to read this book soon after The Book of the New Sun, when it's fresh in your mind.

★★★☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Fantasy #ScienceFiction #DyingEarth #TheUrthOfTheNewSun #GeneWolfe #TheBookOfTheNewSun

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on March 17, 2013.

Elric at the End of Time

By Michael Moorcock – DAW – May 7, 1985

Review by Robin Marx

I enjoy Moorcock and his Elric stories a great deal, but despite the “Seventh Book of Elric of Melnibone” billing on the cover this particular collection is pretty random and weak. It includes the title story, “The Last Enchantment,” a pair of Elric-related essays, a pair of Jerry Cornelius essays, the Sojan the Swordsman stories, and a short short called “The Stone Thing.”

Elric at the End of Time is a crossover between Elric and Moorcock's Second Aether stories. The pseudo-Victorian Second Aether stuff has never done anything for me, and the team-up here struck me as kind of clumsy. Not an essential work.

“The Last Enchantment” is much better, however, one of the better late Elric stories. Unlike some of the more out-there and psychedelic tales, it fits in well with the earlier Elric canon. Elric's dealings with the Gods of Chaos are intriguing, and the premise is original.

The essays were brief and not particularly essential. It also seemed odd having two essays devoted to the Jerry Cornelius character when no Cornelius stories appear in the book.

The Sojan the Swordsman stories were the highlight of the book for me. They represent Moorcock's earliest published writing and were featured in a Tarzan fanzine. The stories themselves are pretty generic sword & planet. Moorcock was probably influenced by Burroughs' Barsoom stories, but they read more like Lin Carter's Thongar the Barbarian tales. They're pretty poor, to be honest. The plotting is pretty simplistic, the dialogue laughable, and with no major setbacks Sojan's adventures tend to be tension-free cakewalks. Still, the goofy enthusiasm in the writing was fun, and it was also fascinating from a historical perspective seeing these stories. If one of the greatest living fantasists started out writing stories this silly, maybe I've got a chance, too.

“The Stone Thing” is an extremely brief joke story. It's funny, but kind of a weird note to end a book on.

This book seems like a bit of a cash grab, a way to make some extra money on a mix of lesser work. It's worth a read for hardcore Moorcock fans, but only half the book is Elric-related and all the good stuff has been re-released in Del Rey's collections. Sojan the Swordsman was fun, but not something casual fans would be incredibly interested in. Far from essential Moorcock.

★★☆☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Fantasy #SwordAndSorcery #MichaelMoorcock #ElricAtTheEndOfTime #EternalChampion

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on August 28, 2012.

The Collected Fiction, Vol. 1: The Boats of the “Glen Carrig” and Other Nautical Adventures

By William Hope Hodgson – Night Shade Books – August 1, 2005

Review by Robin Marx

While I missed out on the gorgeous Night Shade Books print volumes, the e-book edition is a worthy substitute for those unwilling to pay the high secondhand market prices.

This first volume includes the novel The Boats of the 'Glen Carrig', followed by a host of short stories broken into the following thematically-related sections: the Sargasso Sea Stories, the Exploits of Captain Gault, the Adventures of Captain Jat, and the Stories of Cargunka.

The Boats of the 'Glen Carrig' is a rather gripping survival horror story that follows the crew of a pair of lifeboats, sailors adrift after the sinking of the titular 'Glen Carrig.' Hodgson wastes no time getting into the action; the shipwreck itself is covered in basically a single perfunctory paragraph, and events start getting strange and deadly very quickly.

The Boats of the 'Glen Carrig' is similar to his other novels, The House on the Borderland and The Night Land, in that they're basically a linear narrative following the protagonist through a number of bizarre episodes. They read more like travelogues than carefully plotted novels, but the events are interesting enough that this isn't much of a complaint.

The story is written in an intentionally archaic style, with no quoted dialogue and few named characters, but it's fast-paced and packed with engrossing imagery. Stylistically it's a much more approachable read than The Night Land, which—while challenging—I also enjoyed considerably.

The Sargasso Sea stories share a very similar tone with The Boats of the 'Glen Carrig'. From the “Tideless Sea Part 1” and “Tideless Sea Part 2: More News from the Homebird” are genuinely chilling. They're desolate and unnerving, like the very best of Hodgson's work. Unfortunately, the rest of the Sargasso Sea stories aren't quite as stellar, with Hodgson recycling basically the same core premise (a ship encounters a strangely-fortified derelict craft enmeshed in Sargasso weeds, and terror ensues).

While vastly different in tone from his supernatural fiction, the Captain Gault stories were an unexpected highlight in this volume. Captain Gault is a smuggler, and these humorous tales are all “howdunit” mysteries about him sneaking contraband past customs. Read consecutively (rather than periodically encountered in anthology magazines as they would have been originally), the formula they follow becomes a little apparent, but they're clever, punchy, and offer enough diversity to keep the reader engaged.

The Adventures of Captain Jat were intriguing, if perhaps not fully realized. There are only two stories in the cycle—perhaps a poor reception led to Hodgson abandoning the character—but both are interesting. Jat is an alcoholic, abusive sea captain with a taste for women and treasure, and the exquisitely named Pibby Tawles is his put-upon cabin boy and the only companion he trusts on his gold-seeking adventures. Though almost entirely unlikeable, Hodgson adds an interesting twist to the character of Jat by showing him act gruffly tender towards his young accomplice at surprising moments. Pibby, too, isn't simply a victim. He's equipped with a fair amount of sneaky cunning, often profiting at his master's expense. The dynamic between the characters is interesting and the stories themselves are fun supernaturally-tinged adventure. It reminds me a bit of Indiana Jones, if Indy was a boozer that beat on Short Round. It's unfortunate Hodgson didn't write any more stories featuring these two.

The two Stories of Cargunka are probably the weakest in the volume. D.C.O. Cargunka is a wealthy pub-owner that purchases ships and accompanies them on profit-seeking expeditions. While self-aggrandizing romanticist Cargunka himself is a fun character, the stories seemed overlong and plots weren't quite as appealing as the Gault or Jat stories. “The Bells of the Laughing Sally” has some nice ghostly moments, but except for some humorous dialogue, “The Adventure With the Claim Jumpers” is a mostly forgettable heist yarn.

While there are a few limp stories (inevitable in a collection of this size), Hodgson nevertheless maintained an incredibly high standard of quality throughout his brief but prolific career. I maintain that he's one of the more underrated figures in early 20th century horror fiction, and this collection also reveals how adept he was in other genres as well. Wholeheartedly recommended.

★★★★★

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Horror #NauticalFiction #TheBoatsOfTheGlenCarrig #WilliamHopeHodgson

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on March 6, 2019.

The Conspiracy Against the Human Race

By Thomas Ligotti – Hippocampus Press – September 1, 2011

Review by Robin Marx

In the words of John Lydon, “Ever feel like you've been cheated?” Horror writer Thomas Ligotti certainly does.

In this essay, Ligotti passionately argues that sentient life is “MALIGNANTLY USELESS” (emphasis his). Among the animal kingdom we are in a unique position to comprehend our suffering and mortality, but rather than join hands and together voluntarily march into extinction, we are self-deluding prisoners and simultaneously jailers who punish those who call attention to the grimness of existence. We're all inmates, but an extra helping of woe to those who point out the bars.

Much of the text draws heavily from the work of Norwegian philosopher Peter Wessel Zapffe, who also argued that humanity's over-developed awareness of the human condition was a source of suffering and existential angst. Rather than succumb to despair, humans cope by excluding negativity from their thoughts, seeking distraction, anchoring themselves in something larger (e.g., a family, a religion, a nation), or channeling their feelings into creative outlets. The defining trait of humanity is consciousness and self-awareness, but that comprehension leads to despair and attempts to become less aware (and therefore less human).

Ligotti illustrates Zapffe's premise with numerous examples from life and art (the cosmic horror of H. P. Lovecraft is given special attention), all the while raging about the absurdity and cruelty of it all. This book shares a similar topic and conclusions (non-existence is less harmful than our current state, and voluntary human extinction is worthy of consideration) with Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence, but the vehemence with which Ligotti argues his points sets the two books apart.

This is a passionate book about a bleak topic. The readers drawn to it likely already agree with the conclusions, and those who uncomfortably dismiss it out of hand can likely be shown to be relying on Zapffe's coping mechanisms.

★★★★☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Nonfiction #Philosophy #CosmicHorror #TheConspiracyAgainstTheHumanRace #ThomasLigotti

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on February 9, 2015.

Bridge of Birds

By Barry Hughart – Del Rey – April 12, 1985

Review by Robin Marx

Set in mythic China, Bridge of Birds is a picaresque fable with similarities to The Princess Bride, the Sherlock Holmes stories, and Jack Vance's tales of Cugel the Clever. While it starts off with a rather simple premise—involving a search for a magical medicine for afflicted village children—the book's final chapters reveal that the entire story was no simple MacGuffin fetch quest, but in reality something far more original and carefully constructed.

All of Hughart's characters, including the crafty scholar Master Li Kao and earnest bumpkin Number Ten Ox, are well-drawn and appealing, if generally amoral. The heroes are Magnificent Bastards in a corrupt world. Still they manage to do a tremendous amount of good in between heists, swindles, and the occasional murder. The setting is colorful as well, encompassing both the exotic and decadent heights of the imperial lifestyle and the grubby desperation of the peasant class. The book hand-waves historical accuracy, set in “an Ancient China that never was”, but Hughart still presents a fascinating world that I enjoyed spending time in.

Packed with cliffhangers and abrupt reversals of fortune, Bridge of Birds is (to borrow cheesy movie review-speak) a romp from beginning to end. I found myself grinning at many points during the story, and never wider than during the book's conclusion, which was thoroughly satisfying. All loose ends are tied up neatly, with characters and locales revisited in such a way that it highlights just how far we've traveled with Li Kao and Number Ten Ox. I rarely give out five stars, but this book is definitely worth sharing.

★★★★★

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Fantasy #HistoricalFantasy #Mystery #HistoricalMystery #BarryHughart #BridgeOfBirds #TheChroniclesOfMasterLiAndNumberTenOx

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on May 24, 2016.

The Land of Terror (Doc Savage #2)

By Kenneth Robeson (House Name)/Lester Dent – Street & Smith – 1933

Review by Robin Marx

Doc Savage's second adventure (according to the serial publication date, rather than the novel series') is a lackluster one. It starts off interestingly enough, with an acquaintance of Doc Savage falling victim to a mysterious assassination, his body almost completely dissolved by an unknown substance. While action packed, the story and characterization that follows is sleight, even by pulp fiction standards.

One weakness is that the heroes don't reach the titular Land of Terror until literally halfway through the book. The first half mostly involves Doc Savage and his crew dealing with thugs led by a shadowy villain known as Kar. Savage discovers their hideout, a cheesy pirate ship museum, fairly early on, but for some reason he ends up making multiple trips to this same location, rather than dealing with the criminals in one fell swoop. While there are some exciting set pieces (including the classic situation where a sidekick is trapped in a chamber slowly filling with water), it feels strange that Savage keeps returning there.

Things pick up when Savage and his friends finally end up at the Land of Terror (that's actually the name used for the island in the text). As the cover reveals, the place is a “Lost World” filled with aggressive dinosaurs.

There's some attempt to play up the “mystery” surrounding Kar's identity, but that plot thread is fairly limp. I suspect most readers paying a modicum of attention to the story will pick up on it.

One issue I noticed in the first story returns in the second as well: Doc Savage has too many friends. The bickering between the apish chemist Monk and the prissy lawyer Ham continues to entertain, but Doc Savage's other three traveling companions (Renny, Long Tom, and the Other Guy) still don't have any memorable (or even distinguishing) qualities, nor do they contribute much to the plot apart from serving as kidnap victims.

While not a bad story, this volume was uneven and merely OK. Hopefully the next installment is closer in quality to the first book.

★★☆☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #PulpFiction #TheLandOfTerror #DocSavage #KennethRobeson #LesterDent

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on September 17, 2021.

The Cocktail Waitress

By James M. Cain – Hard Case Crime – September 18, 2012

Review by Robin Marx

Joan Medford is a beautiful 21-year-old with a problem. Her abusive, alcoholic husband just managed to get himself killed in a drunk driving accident. The cops are still poking around the circumstances of his death. She's entrusted the care of her toddler to her sister-in-law while she puts her life back in order, but said sister-in-law is growing increasingly reluctant to return the boy. Joan needs money and fast, so she decides to put her head-turning curves to work at a cocktail bar. Her world-weary coworker clues her in that women with their kind of figures and flexible morals can earn even better money on the side, and the wolfish men in the bar make no attempt to hide their desire for the young widow. Joan's need for financial security sets her on a dangerous path, and not everyone she comes into contact with will survive.

This hard-boiled crime novel is written from the (first-person) perspective of a femme fatale. Or is it? The book reads just as well as the tale of a sympathetic and beleaguered woman in desperate circumstances. This ambiguity is key to the novel's appeal. She could be simply unlucky or a criminal mastermind. Joan runs hot and cold throughout the narrative and does display a ruthless streak when it comes to securing a better life for her and her son, but all of the men in her life are untrustworthy and trying to use her to satisfy their own desires. There's a mean matter-of-factness to the narrative, and sexuality and abuse are presented in a surprisingly frank way for the vaguely 1950s setting. The dialogue is deliciously snappy, in true noir tradition. And even when it looks like the major issues have come to a resolution, Joan's tale ends with one last masterful gut-punch from the author.

The book concludes with a lengthy Afterword by the editor, Charles Ardai, explaining the process by which this book was completed and released decades after James M. Cain's death. While it existed in complete manuscript form, Cain had continued tinkering with it in the years up to his death, and the book as published is a synthesis of multiple drafts left in various states of completion. While many posthumously published works tend to disappoint, this book was most definitely worth the effort to polish up and release. The final product is surprisingly seamless.

Lean, mean, and sexy, this book is an easy recommendation for fans of the hard-boiled crime genre.

★★★★☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Mystery #Crime #TheCocktailWaitress #JamesMCain #HardCaseCrime

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on November 12, 2013.

Stealer of Flesh

By William King – Self-Published – March 27, 2012

Review by Robin Marx

The first book in the Kormak Saga, Stealer of Flesh consists of four linked sword & sorcery novellas. While there is currently quite a glut of low-cost self-published fantasy ebooks, I was quite pleasantly surprised by the quality of this work.

The story focuses on the adventures of Kormak—a Guardian equipped with a dwarf-forged sword and monastic martial training—and his efforts to track down and destroy a demonic body-stealing Ghul. While Serious Guy Slays Monsters is well-trodden fantasy ground, I appreciated the execution. Setting details and other exposition aren't presented to the reader in big info dumps, but rather handed out a tidbit at a time. Not much is disclosed about either the Guardians or their Ghul enemies, but what is revealed is interesting. And while at first glance Kormak himself could come across as a grim two-dimensional character, King fleshes him out in a subtle and interesting manner. Despite his heroic drive, there are a number of instances where Kormak questions his own motives and whether or not his quest has a point at all. And despite his apparent monk-like dedication to his cause, it doesn't take too much pushing for him to dally with women he'd be best off avoiding. There's more to both the world and the protagonist than what's revealed at first glance.

I also enjoyed the linked novella format. Compared to other fantasy subgenres, sword & sorcery lends itself extremely well to shorter formats. King doesn't draw things out to fill out page count; he sets up an interesting premise and immediately gets down to business. My only complaint is (view spoiler), but the concluding story was extremely satisfying, even if the ending was a little abrupt.

I'm not as familiar with the current sword & sorcery authors as I am with the classic ones, but King strikes me as a writer to watch. I look forward to reading more Kormak tales.

★★★★☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #SwordAndSorcery #Fantasy #WilliamKing #StealerOfFlesh #TheKormakSaga

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on October 24, 2020.

The Troop

By Nick Cutter – Gallery Books – February 25, 2014

Review by Robin Marx

Nick Cutter cites Stephen King’s Carrie as an influence, but this book felt closer to King’s Thinner mixed with The Lord of the Flies.

The story centers on five 14-year-old scouts and their scoutmaster on a camping trip on a small island off Canada’s Atlantic coast. Their excursion is interrupted by the sudden arrival of an emaciated and insatiably ravenous man who turns out to be an escaped test subject from some extremely unethical human trials. Hilarity ensues.

This book is one of the most intense horror novels I’ve read in years. Characters are well rendered, few in number, and their situation desperate. It has some of the most squirm-inducing descriptions of violence and self-mutilation since the 80s Splatterpunk movement. This novel is not for the squeamish, but I found it to be an incredibly compelling page-turner.

This probably isn’t suitable for casual horror fans—people who stick with King and Koontz and think gross-out horror is a crutch for authors who can’t create an atmosphere of terror—but if you’re comfortable with the deeper end of the pool this book is a hell of a ride.

★★★★☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Horror #TheTroop #NickCutter

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on March 21, 2021.

Season of Storms

By Andrzej Sapkowski, David French (Translator) – Orbit – May 22, 2018

Review by Robin Marx

Season of Storms was written after the main series of Witcher novels but set before most of Geralt’s adventures. I’m reading these books in terms of their internal chronology rather than the order of publication. While I got the sense that there were some Easter Eggs left for fans who had read the other books, the story stood well enough on its own.

The plot itself was sort of a reverse Picaresque. Geralt is perhaps the most moral and scrupulous figure in the story, and he’s thrown about by the lies and manipulations of the corrupt people and authorities around him. He’s framed for a crime, railroaded through court proceedings, and has his swords—the instruments of his trade—stolen from him. He just wants to be left alone, but the politicians and mages around him see a tool they can use to further their own schemes.

It took me a while to notice, but despite the magic and monsters, Season of Storms doesn’t have a typical fantasy novel plot. It has a noir plot. It’s all there. The protagonist is cynical and tarnished but still abides by a code. There is a femme fatale. The cops (er, “town guard”) are the biggest gang around. The ruling class run roughshod over the commoners without a care for the collateral damage. Loyalties and motives are uncertain, and the plot takes a number of twists and turns.

Season of Storms was a fun and exciting read, and I look forward to continuing the series.

★★★★☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Fantasy #AndrzejSapkowski #SeasonOfStorms #TheWitcher