The story focus on the war hero Ringil Eskiath, who, ostracised because of his homosexuality, scrapes a living telling tales in an inn. Summoned home to track down a cousin sold into slavery Ringil is trust back into the world. Following the slave trail Ringil encounters a new enemy that threatens the whole of humanity.
Two of Ringil’s former comrades in arms; Egar Dragonbane, the leader of a barbaric steppe tribe, and Archeth Indamaninarmal a half human advisor to the Emperor of Yhelteth, have also been drawn into the encounter for reasons of their own, and are reunited with their old friend.
Driven by the three main characters the chapters rotate between the protagonists as their initially separate plot lines converge. While not as deeply plotted as Morgan’s SF works the book stands up well, dealing well with the three separate narratives before combining them with only a little of contrivance.
Rigil, Archeth and Egar are built up well, each with their own abilities, motivation, desires, needs, and more importantly vices. All there war veterans have been affected by their experiences and this colours much of their actions. None of them are perfect, and are presented in many shades of grey.
The world is sketched out, with much detail and history being briefly mentioned, but the substantive body of this background is little explored. This is finely balanced and leaves the reader wanting more rather than feeling lost. Better known for his SF works, Richard Morgan handles the transition to swords and sorcery ably, and has produced a believable setting.
Both sex, violence and language are explicit but fit was the rugged setting. The writing style is brutal and blunt, a marked difference from most fantasy. Consider this fair warning that the sex scenes in particular are written in a direct manner. Perhaps best described as fantasy noir the darkness of storyline and subject matter is offset by black humour.
Different from most fantasy The Steel Remains stays conscious of its roots. As a mix of action, fantasy, and noir I recommend it as worth a read. Hopefully the next book in the series will continue the form set by the first.
This weekend The Lyric Lounge is back in Leicester and taking place at New Walk Museaum. Saldy I cannot be there, although I popped in friday and snuck into the VIP welcome. It looks like an amazing event so if you are in the area go down.
Set at the end of the 60's and filled with cold war intriuge and double agents, Duns' novel follows in a fine tradition of spy novel and does so brilliantly.
Paul Dark is not a likeable man, but surprisingly easy to empathise with and understand which makes him extremely readable. He is also far from being a hero, which is always refreshing, he's not even an anti hero, he's just a not very nice man doing what he has to in order to survive under extreme circumstances. In fact no one in this novel is really likeable or heroic, quite rightly the spies are a thoroughly untrustworthy and unpleasant lot, regardless of who they work for.
Free Agent is as set against the cold war and the Biafran war so the setting for much of the novel is Africa and it's wonderfully rich with detail from the period. The golf course in the novel is recreated from a period map, and the feel and flavour of the place comes in part from the authors own experience of being there as a child, and that of friends and family. Duns' creates a real sense of place and of the reality of the war and life at the time which successfully grounds the story and maintains a sense of reality that is sometimes lacking when dealing with slightly surreal world of secret agents.
Being a current writer creating a 60's spy novel Jeremy Duns offers us the drama and action of Bond but without the dated feel of a novel written decades ago. There is little technology mentioned, and none explained in detail, although there are specifics about the guns, which is appropriate. It's a neat balancing act that makes this a much easier read than some of the older books of the type.
Free Agent is a wonderfully grey novel, Dark's own beliefs and behaviour, the behaviour of various governments, the attempts by the superpowers to gain the upper hand through influencingthe situation in Africa. As a reader I felt at times like the young french journalist, a little wide eyed and niaive, not willing to believe the story would take the turns it did. It maintained the tension, punished it's lead again and again and delivered on the dramatic climax.
A must for fans of the classic spy tropes and a strong recommendation for anyone thinking of giving the genre a try, personally, I can't wait to get into the next one, Free Country out 5th August in the UK.
We interviewed Jeremy at the Harrogate Crime Festival and the interview will be posted shortly as both typed and audio.
First of all an apology, this was supposed to be up earlier in the week to tie in with Lisa's appearance on Ravenous Wednesday, but I forgot that there are only 24hours in every day and so it's a couple late.
Rock, Paper, Tiger By Lisa Brackman Pub: Soho Cover: HandsDesign.ca
Ellie McEnroe is separated from her husband, suffering post traumatic stress disorder and an injured leg and is trying to get her visa to stay in China. Now her friend and sometimes lover has disappeared and both the Americans and Chinese are chasing Ellie down for reasons that no one has made clear to her.
As a thriller this novel is a little strange. We follow Ellie as she tries to navigate the various agencies looking for her and unravel the mystery of her friends disappearance, which is normal enough. The Chinese influence though means that the characters are forced to use unusual means to coordinate. It adds an interesting level to the book that I can't really explain without giving too much away, so my advice is be like Ellie, trust there is a point and go with it.
Chinese is thrown in casually and translated in a way that makes it feel natural. That the book is set in China comes through strongly not just through the language, but the writing style, the food and conversation, the way people interact. It’s very clear that China and America are in some ways very different. There is a strong sense of culture and character and Ellie seems at home there.
Ellie is a great lead, cynical, funny and tough, but still believing in people. The mystery is fascinating, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. At times extremely grim and honest it’s a great journey with fascinating characters. It's well written and quick to draw the reader in, perhaps partly because of the slight quirks of the writing style.
Writers Reading is back this friday with Stephanie Burgis which comes out in the UK this weekend! (1st August) and in the US spring 2011. You can find out more about the book and read a short extract here, personally I think it sounds great fun and can't wait to get my hands on it.
Here are two snapshots from my childhood:
One: I’m nine years old, walking back to my cabin at summer camp. As usual, I’m reading as I walk…and this time, I end up completely tangled in a vollebyall net I hadn’t even noticed, because I was so absorbed in The Count of Monte Cristo.
Cue lots of (friendly) laughter from my cabinmates…but absolutely no change in my habits. In the future, I’ll end up walking into poles and collecting bruises for exactly the same reason. I just can’t stop reading no matter what the danger.
Two: I’m eleven years old and spending two weeks at music camp, supposedly focusing on nothing but the piano. I have to spend two hours a day locked in a practice cabin, actively practicing the entire time - and yes, I really do have to do it because there are adults standing guard, listening out for kids who’ve either stopped making music or tried to sneak out. (There are more similarities than you might expect between music camp and prison…)
I love music, I really do…but I love reading even more. I prop The Prisoner of Zenda on the piano and noodle carelessly around on the keyboard, making the requisite amount of musical noise, while I devour swordfights and adventure. When I hear the scuffling sound of an adult’s footsteps on the leaves outside, I hastily shove a book of Bach inventions on top of my paperback and gaze at the music with an air of deep artistic intensity. Then, as soon as the footsteps move away, I dive straight back into the world of identical twins, doomed romance, and really, really great fight scenes.
In my life, a lot of things have changed. I’ve moved from one country to another, been a musician, an academic, a student, a full-time writer and a mom…but one thing has never changed. Everywhere I go, I always bring a book with me, just in case I get a chance to read. And I’ve never once regretted it.
Good morning, Ravenous Wednesday Regulars and any new guests we have amongst us today! If you're new, belly up to the bar and ask for your favorite beverage (if you're a regular, you know the drill and where I hide all the alcohol). In honor of our guest today, we also have a full range of dim sum (hot pork bun, anyone?).
Today is one of our special guests in that she is not a Ravenous Romance author. However she is a staunch supporter of RR and a frequent visitor on RR Wednesdays.
I have known Lisa for many years; she is, in fact, largely responsible for my love of reading and for introducing me to Classic Star Trek via the Trouble With Tribbles episode. So it's a pleasure to host her here today and I'm hoping her post on gender expectation and dynamics will provoke some interesting conversation! Lisa's debut novel, Rock Paper Tiger, has been favorably reviewed in Publisher's Weekly (Starred review!), the New York Times, and the Boston Herald, just to name a few. Most recently RPT received a little blurb in (wait for it) the July 30th issue of Entertainment Weekly. Can we give a WOOT for Ms. Brackmann? A SQUEEE will do nicely too.
And, as you can see, her cat Ghost likes it too! Yes. I really did have to include this picture. :-)
Here's a brief blurb on the book:
Iraq vet Ellie McEnroe is down and out in China, trying to lose herself in the alien worlds of performance artists and online gamers. When a chance encounter with a Uighur fugitive drops her down a rabbit hole of conspiracies, Ellie must decide who to trust among the artists, dealers, collectors and operatives claiming to be on her side – in particular, a mysterious organization operating within a popular online game.
And now on with the post! Please welcome Lisa Brackmann!
I know I shouldn’t start a post with a disclaimer, but I think I have to start this one with two.
Here I am, your guest on Ravenous Wednesday, and my book is not romance, erotic or otherwise. ROCK PAPER TIGER is a quirky thriller, character-driven suspense.
Second disclaimer: I don’t intend this post as any kind of reviewer bash. I’ve gotten a lot of positive and insightful reviews ((rather than flogging them here, if you’re interested, check out my website). It’s been one of the most gratifying things about the publication process—feeling that my work has connected with others, both those who read professionally and those who read for enjoyment.
Okay, I hope that’s sufficient disclaiming. Because among the reviews I’ve gotten for the book, there were a few lines from reviewers that had me scratching my head, and that I think might point to some larger issues in gender dynamics that would be interesting to discuss.
My main character, Ellie, is a twenty-something woman, lost in Beijing. She’s an Iraq war vet, recovering from traumatic injuries, physical and mental, and coping not very well with getting dumped by her husband, whom she followed to China and who has left her for a Chinese woman (who presumably lacks Ellie’s considerable baggage). Ellie is unhappy, unstable and barely hanging on to a fragile new life she’s trying to create out of the ruins of her old one. Her sort-of boyfriend, the artist, Lao Zhang, is more of a “Friend with Benefits” than a real lover, and that’s as much as Ellie wants, or at least as much as she can cope with. A chance encounter with a dissident Uighur fugitive crashing at Lao Zhang’s place drops her down a rabbit hole of conspiracies, and Ellie finds herself on the run, chased by Chinese and American agents whose motives and loyalties she can only begin to guess. Her only clues come from a secret society operating within a popular online game—and she doesn’t know who the players are, or what game it is that they’re really playing.
So that’s the background.
I’d be lying if I said that I don’t mind negative reviews—you know, we all want to be perfect and our every sentence loved, right? But I don’t expect that everyone is going to love my book or even like it. Heck, I doubt if anyone could beat me up about deficiencies in my work as much as I can beat up myself.
Where I do get confused is when a reviewer misinterprets my intentions—when I’m being misread, in the literal sense of the word.
I wonder, is it me? Did I not write that clearly? Am I letting something out of my head that I didn’t mean to? Where did we go wrong here?
One of the reviews that had me the most perplexed was one that stated I had portrayed Ellie as “sexy” and yet the book is “curiously chaste” and that, well, most of the men in it aren’t very nice, or are at best, “idealized.”
I’m guessing “idealized” refers to the artist, Lao Zhang. I can’t really discuss this without giving away too much of the plot, but, yes, he’s idealized. He’s hardly in the book; he’s “The Man Who Wasn’t There,” and that’s the only way an idealized partner can exist, in the fantasy space of your own head. We’re free to create whatever version of him we want to, like an avatar in an online game.
Let me state what my actual intentions were. I didn’t intend for Ellie to be a “sexy” character at all. I described her as being cute, in a standard, all-American kind of way. She goes off to war as a 19 year old, and in her own words, she fucks around (and the language here is intentional—more on that later). She finds a regular partner in the man who will become her husband, Trey, but their relationship begins in a dangerous, poisonous atmosphere, where violence and abuse are embedded in the environment.
It’s a war zone. On top of that, think Abu Ghraib.
By the time Ellie gets to China, she is injured in body and soul, fearful of intimacy both sexual and otherwise, trying to find a place in the world at the same time that she pushes away any kind of real connections. She spends a lot of the book questioning her relationship with Lao Zhang, what it actually means, whether he really cares about her and how much she should risk for their friendship.
She’s a mess. And I’m trying to understand how this translates to “sexy.”
Is it because she’s able to find sexual partners in a war zone? I mean, you’re in a situation where the ratio of men to women is something like six to one (at best), you’re young, you’re reasonably cute—not so hard, right?
Is it because she talks about sex in terms of “fucking”? Is that sexy talk?
Or is it simply because she’s described as being physically attractive (if not a knockout beauty)?
Is being interested in sex on certain terms “sexy”? Is not being interested in sex when you’re running for your life through Bumfuck China “chaste”?
To me, “sexy” implies not just physical attractiveness (if at all), but a certain confidence in the expression of one’s sexuality, plus, an intention of engaging with others in a sexual way.
I wonder if with this I’ve hit one of those weird, gendered walls that I sometimes encounter and that still surprise me. Though I’ve had really awesome, insightful reviews written by men, the few that have had me shaking my head, going, “huh?” were written by men, and the “huh?” aspects always seemed to deal with the main character and with gendered notions of femininity, sexuality and appropriate behavior.
One of my favorite mixed reviews went something like this: “She (Ellie) exists in a drunken, drugged haze, constantly drops the F-bomb and uses all manner of gutter language, and she doesn’t care who she sleeps with.”
Well, okay, then! Now that we’ve hit for the whole “Madonna/Whore” cycle, let’s move on to the “gutter language” discussion.
A few reviewers mentioned Ellie’s R-rated language, and I’m pretty sure not a single one of them was a woman.
I found some support in this notion I had that the reaction to Ellie’s profanity might be a gendered response when I came across this review of Chevy Steven’s debut,STILL MISSING, which is a big hit for her and St. Martin’s Press.
I’m not going to review her book (no book reviews for this debut author), but I’ve read it, and I’ll tell you a little about it.
STILL MISSING deals with a 30ish realtor, Annie, who is kidnapped by a sexual predator and held captive in a mountain cabin for a year. We know all this and we know that she escapes on the first page, because she’s telling the story to her shrink. We find out that her during her year in captivity, she was horrifically abused, beaten and raped. Much of the story is about her life afterwards, how the trauma affects her, how she is and is not able to heal.
What I found admirable about this book is that it in no way eroticizes her ordeal—there’s nothing prurient about it. The story is brutal and unpleasant, and it doesn’t hide the unpleasantness under a veneer of “Happily Ever After.” Annie will never be the same, and the central question of the book is, how does one mend after an experience like that? Is recovery even possible?
You can definitely argue the plusses and minuses in STILL MISSING—what works and what doesn’t, is it misogynistic or isn’t it, lurid or no? I am not going to get into any of that. But I will mention a few statements the (male) reviewer made that had me flabbergasted.
First: “Early in the novel, I wondered if its intended audience was mostly men, because, let's face it, men are more likely to rush out and buy a rape fantasy than women.”
Um.
I don’t even know what to do with this statement.
But I will try to unpack it.
First, I’ll go out on a limb and say that rape fantasies—emphasis on fantasy here, people—are popular among some women as well as some men. Not not NOT actual rape, but fantasies of dominance and submission.
And, did I mention the “not erotic” aspect of the storytelling in this book? I mean, we all have our kinks, and it’s possible that I just don’t have this particular one, but, at no time during my reading of STILL MISSING did I go, “Oh! This is a rape fantasy that I’m sure many men would enjoy!”
Please, men, read the book and tell me if you got off on it. I know I didn’t. And I really don’t want to think that men rushed out and bought the book because it’s, you know, “sexy.” You could make the case that it’s an examination of a certain kind of sexual kink, but STILL MISSING goes out of its way to make that kink the opposite of “sexy.” Even if you bought the book with an expectation that it’s going to be good, kinky fun, I can’t believe you’d feel that way after reading it.
And if you did, I’m calling the cops.
The next thing that flabbergasted me:the main character, Annie, is described as having “a potty mouth.” The reviewer concludes that his main objection to the book was, in fact, its “gratuitous profanity,” and, I quote:“I am far from a prude (ask anyone), but even in this world of dirty talk I think there are words we'd rather not have to wallow in when we're curled up at home with a book…Is this deluge supposed to make us think Annie is hip or cool or sophisticated? Do Stevens and her editors think this stuff (a synonym they should have considered) sells books? Not to me.”
Oooh-kay. We have a main character who was abducted, imprisoned, raped, beaten, starved, otherwise abused, and finally escapes to find that her entire life is in ruins. She’s, you know, just a tad pissed off about all of this. What is she supposed to say?
“Oh, phooey! My life is really stuffy.”
Yeah, that works.
I ask myself, if this were a male character, would his use of profanity be called into question? Would it be considered inappropriate expression? Or is it somehow worse if women are the ones dropping the F-bomb?
I should mention here that a prominent female reviewer objected to Annie’s profanity as well. I will also say that I totally didn’t notice the profanity, or if I did, it seemed completely appropriate to me. Again, your mileage may vary.
So, UnBound, Ravenous Wednesday Peeps…here are the questions I pose to you:
What is “sexy”? Does it imply agency over one’s own desire, or is it all in the eyes of the beholder? “Gutter language,” more okay for men than for women? Is female anger less acceptable than male, and is the expression of it therefore somewhat confusing to certain readers?
Discuss!
Lisa Brackmann has worked as an executive at a major motion picture studio, an issues researcher in a presidential campaign, and was the singer/songwriter/bassist in an LA rock band. She still takes pride in her karaoke-ready repertoire of bad pop hits and an embarrassing number of show tunes. A southern California native, she lives in VeniceCA and spends a lot of time in Beijing, China. Her three cats wish she’d stay put.
Well, as fearless leader, or whatever i may be today, i thought it was about time I checked in and stopped neglecting you all. I am still not home after harrogate. Tomorrow i will have to deal with the real world but right now i am lurking for a while longer in the slightly north (there's another half a country past Leeds y'know). I am returning home this afternoon.
MangaCat and i arrived in Leeds just in time to join Vince and Sarah Pinborough and co for lunch, which was really good fun. We then basically spent the entire weekend in the various bars of the Crown and wandering off for food, just enjoying the superb company of fellow unbounders (although Keith actually did stuff) and some lovely people from the crime writing world. Steve Mosby, John Rickards and Jeremy Duns were all kind enough to give up their time to be interviewed Which will be coming out over the next week or so here.
I apologise that the alt.fiction podcast is going to be a day or so late this week but in spite of doing very little really except for laughing and talking, i managed 3hrs sleep between 6am Friday and midnight Sunday so whilst now feeling somewhat restored the complexities of pod bean are still beyond me.
There will be more about the actual event from the lovely Keith but he may also need a few days to recover since he did everything while we lounged and chatted.
Thanks to everyone for making us feel so welcome a little outside our usual genre and Harrogate will be one of my priorities next year so see you then if not before.
Enforcer Omnibus Crossfire, Legacy, Blind By Matthew Farrer Pub: Black Library.
I’m going to state right away I really like the cover. Although the pistol is a little odd. Glad to say the cover is not the only thing to like. Enforcer collects the three books of the Shira Calpurnia omnibus; Crossfire, Legacy and Blind as well as some bonus material for each. Set in the 40K universe each book centres around a case investigated or judged over by Calpurnia. She is an Adeptus Arbiter, one of the police of the Imperium. Tasked wityh upholding the Imperial Law and the will of the Emperor, the books centre around human corruption, desires and failing, rather than the more exotic threats of alien or chaos. I’m going to go thought each book separately, and then do some sort of conclusion.
Crossfire
Crossfire opens with Arbitrator Shira Calpurnia’s first few days on the planet of Hydraphur. Newly appointed as an arbiter senioris, Shira is the victim of a botched assassination attempt, and is tasked with hunting down whomever ordered the hit, as well as safeguarding the Mass of Balronas, a planet wide event, and the centre of much political wrangling amongst the noble classes. The investigation is persistently stymied by both the interference and non cooperation of both agents of the Imperial Church and the noble houses.
I’ll leave it there and try not to give to much more away. Crossfire wraps the action around the central mystery very well. The key players are not obvious until they reveal themselves and the plot holds together well. The chapters alternate between a brief page to two page description of what the correct religious abeyances for the day are to be and the continuing investigation. The story is brim full of nuggets of background information and little touches that not only ground the piece in the 40K universe but also make it a book centred far more on the daily life of the Emperor’s servants than more action packed blades and bullets affair. Crossfire is the largest book of the collection, but maintains pace thought before reaching a satisfying conclusion.
Calpurnia herself is a very well drawn character. Driven by an overriding sense of duty she maintains the Emperor’s Law with iron resolve. Wrong footed by the unfamiliar surrounding she is on edge and wary, and on the catch up, but does not let that stop her.
Bonus Material
Going to mention this once and once only. The additional material is not particularly stunning. While providing insight into the world of the Imperium, it does not always have direct bearing on the story and feels superfluous at times. It’s not that it isn’t a well written and presented it is just oddly placed.
Legacy
I have a confession to make. Legacy threw me, and I never quite settled into the book as I did with Crossfire. I was expecting the story to follow Crossfires template of action violence and a mystery. Legacy changes pace and order, in a good way, but one that makes you stumble jumping from one book straight to another. It also focuses much less around Calpurnia than the first book does.
Legacy revolves around the inheritance of a Rouge Traders charter. In the early days of the Imperium these were granted to allow ships to fly into the uncharted galaxy beyond the expansion of the Great Crusade (Everyone read my background piece yesterday? Keeping up? Good) and have been passed down through families ever since. Ungoverned by Imperial rule the Rouge Traders believe themselves to be a law unto themselves and look down upon the Imperium. The charters are not only legal documents but also significant relics from the dawn of the Imperium.
When the Rouge Trader Hoyyon Phrax dies his fleet must return to Hydraphur for the charter to be passed on to the Phrax heir. Matters are not quite so simple however. The masters of the fleet are not willing to accept the leadership of Phrax’s true heir, whom had left the fleet as a child and been brought up on a distant planet by his mother. The masters hatch a plan to create an heir of their own and inherit through false means.
The inheritance of the charter has brought factions circling around the true Phrax heir, determined to take some share in the power he is soon to hold. Even the Imperial Church believe themselves to have a claim on the charter, seeing it as a holy relic, the ownership of which would increase the standing of the cathedral of Hydraphur. These to factions wage a subtle was of information and manipulation in order to further their own ends.
Trapped in the middle of all this is Calpurnia, working in the unfamiliar role as judge over the inheritance, wrestling with both millennia of legal procedure as well as the separate factions.
Legacy starts with a fantastic opening scene, which wrong foots the reader for what is coming next. The major plot is dealt with well but as mentioned it takes a little while for the reader to get into the swing of it. Knowing what to expect means it probably won’t be such a leap, and certainly don’t hold it against the book. The book moves between the preparations of the two Phrax heirs, and Calpurina, coming two a head when Calpurnia passed judgement over the case.
The book continues the immersive feel of Crossfire and is very well written, and the plot and subplots holding the attention throughout. While I’ve given the book a bashing for the sudden lack of action the scenes that are in there are amazing. I’ve already mentioned the opening, and there is a truly grisly battle on a starship. The finale is suitable explosive as well, coming a little bit out of no where in terms of it’s scope.
Blind
Blind returns to a format similar to Crossfire, with Calpurnia at the centre of an investigation. There is a huge swing of pace and perspective in the piece and it is a welcome change.
Blind is set almost exclusively on an Astropaths space station. These psychers transmit and receive messages through the horror of warp space. When the Master Astropath is murderd the Arbiters launch an investigation, headed by Calpurnia.
Calpurnia has been left a changed character from the events of Legacy, and has been stripped of her rank following the events of that book. On her way to her own trial she is temporarily restores to arbiter senioris, to conduct the investigation. Beset by doubts, as well as the strange influence of the witch tower, Calpurnia needs to not only find the killer, but also contend with the factions vying for the position of Master.
Much like Crossfire, Blind combines mystery and action in a fantastic pairing. The killer remains hidden until the very final pages, and the action is kept refreshingly constant after Legacy.
The station is beautifully realised and is a haunting setting, and the home of some disturbing characters. The Astropaths themselves and their psychic abilities are well presented, as is the increasingly conflicted character of Calpurnia herself.
I enjoyed Enforcer quite a lot, and will certainly be rereading it soon. I also have my fingers crossed that we’ll get to read more about Calpurnia in the future. Once you’ve read the book take a step back though and look at Calpurnia and the world she is in. It remains a horrific place, and Calpurnia would struggle to be even an anti hero in any other setting.
In the 40th millennium the realm of man stretches across the unimaginably vast distance of galactic space, stretching form rim to rim, and riddled throughout the spiral arms of the Milky Way. And just about now you can let go of everything nice in traditional sci-fi. Even without outside influences humanity as presented in the 40k universe would be a severely twisted group, and humanity is anything but alone amongst the stars. Across the depth of space many enemies wait; Brutal Orks, literally bred to fight, travel from world to world in search of constant conflict and war. Eldar, the last scions of a dying race ply the space ways in giant ships of living bones, manipulating events over a timescale other races can not even encompass, while running from a God birthed out of their own hedonistic desires. The Dark Eldar who hunt other races, dragging whole planetary populations to their shadowy realm as slaves and torture them to death. Chaos reaches out it’s corrupting grasp, and twists the very fabric of space and time. The mechanical Necrons, dormant for eons, the last remnants of a race that almost destroyed the galaxy have awoken, determined to scour all life. Tyranids, bio engineered creatures from outside the galaxy, whose only goal is to devour, stripping planets bare of life in their wake. And finally Tau, a race only emerging recently into the galactic stage that may or may not be controlled via pheromone manipulation, and who are creating their own empire, absorbing other races, willingly or not. Trumpeting a creed of “the greater good” they subject non compliant races to sterilisation and concentration camps. And these are but the prominent races. Many, many, more have been hinted at or mentioned in passing.
Once again 40K fiction tends to centre around the struggles faced by humanity, so it’s time for a detailed look at the Imperium of Man. Prepare for future history. Where we’re going we don’t need roads, but you will need whatever weapon comes to hand.
Millennium18-M23 Humanity began it’s climb to the stars during the Dark Age of Technology. With the discovery of the Warp, a space parallel to our own that allowed faster than light travel and communication, the human race spread across the galaxy. Aliens were brought to heel where encountered and humanity lived in a time of plenty, and marvel. Warp space was not empty however, it was a realm of demons, and monsters. As humanity evolved into a fledgling psychic race the dark powers of chaos were drawn to the human race.
M23-M30 Storms wracked the realm of the Warp severing contact and travel between human worlds. Humanity regresses, and is assaulted on all sides by it’s enemies.
M31 The Emperor of Man, a warrior and psycher without peer, emerges amongst the tribes of Terra, and creates the first Space Marines, genetically modified supper human warriors, before conquering the warring factions on Terra and expanding his conquest to the skies. The initial stages of the Space Marine program led to the creation of 20 Primarches, who shared some of the Emperor’s genetic material. Created from his own flesh the Primarches were snatched from the Emperor by the powers of the warp and flung across the galaxy. As the great crusade expanded the newly founded Imperium of Man the Emperor was to rediscover his children. Where the Primarches had fallen to earth they had risen as great leaders and warriors, reaching maturity at an accelerated rate, and becoming towering pinnacles of men. Some, most notably Mangus the Red and Sanguinus showed changes that marked them out even further from their fellow man. The first of these lost sons was Horus. Even as more of his brothers were discovered Horus remained the closest to the Emperor. Each Primarch took his place at the head of a Space Marine Legion, created from his genetic template. While a pale shadow of their progenitors these warriors still stood high amongst humanity, both less and more than the people of the Imperium.
The Great Crusade spread across the galaxy. A secular mission glorying in the majesty of humanity, the crusade negotiated with the newly discovered planets, but was prepared to conquer by force where resistance was met. The galaxy became a warzone as Space Marine Legions led the charge against non compliant worlds.
As the Great Crusade progressed the Emperor retired from the leadership of the advance and returned to Terra. In his stead Horus was declared Warmaster. The events that followed were to change the course of the Imperium forever.
Horus turned his back of the light of the Emperor and declared himself rebel and traitor, siding with the powers of Choas, the inhabitants of the Warp. Horus did not fall alone and he bought half of his brothers and their Legions with him.
The Warmater, now champion of the Chaos Gods made his way to Terra, and bought warfare and siege down upon the continent spanning edifice of the Emperor’s Palace. The fighting was unimaginable fierce and brutal as brother fought former brother. As his Legions breached the walls of the Palace and held victory in their grasp Horus, commanding the battle from his spaceship, lowered the shields around his command barge. This was the opportunity the Emperor had been waiting for and he teleported aboard, accompanied by loyal Primarches and Space Marines.
In the confusion of the teleport, and the twisted maze of Horus’s ship the assault force was split. It was the Primarch Sanguinus that found his traitor brother first. The two fought a bitter battle but Horus overcame his brother, killing him. It was then that the Emperor discovered the pair. Father and son fought in a titanic duel, that resulted in Horus’s death. The loss of their leader broke the forces arrayed against the loyalist ground forces and they fled. The Imperium had won, but the victory was hollow. The traitor Horus has dealt the Emperor an almost mortal wound. The Emperor’s servants interned the barely living body of their master into the Golden Throne. And it is there he has stayed kept alive through arcane technologies, unmoving, and unspeaking.
M31-M41 In the wake of the Emperor’s sacrifice the Imperium changed. The Emperor became deified, worshiped as God and ruler of mankind, a defender against the darkness of the warp and the horrors of the xenos, heretic, and daemon.
The Twelve Lords of Terra rule of the domain of man in the Emperor’s name. Trillions of souls spread across the unimaginable vastness of the galaxy pray to Him on Earth, and make the sign of the Aquila.
M41.
Welcome to what much 40K set fiction treats as the present. The following is taken from the first page of any 40K ‘verse Black Library books, and does far more than I can to encapsulate the Imperium and the surrounding universe in all it’s strange, gothic, glory.
“It is the 41st millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the human Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the Gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that mankind may never die.
Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battle fleets cross the daemon infested miasma of the warp. The only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor’s will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defense forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants and worse.
To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruelest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of countless battles, death, and honor among fighting brothers. “
And that’s where I’ll think I’ll leave the background section. Even more than it’s fantasy counterpart the 40K background is intricate and deep. The above is the barest skim over a huge amount of information.
The background created for 40k is immersive, and it’s quirks and grimness are only noticed when a step back is taken. As the above text suggest the Imperium is not a very nice place. At all. And remember, these are the good guys and the heroes, the shining beacons of light in the dark. If anyone wants to check on the levels of horror go and search for 40k on TV tropes. Interesting reading, but not for all ages.
Books
The books concerning the 40K universe can be split into two categories.
Firstly there is the relatively recent Horus Heresy series (the first book was released in 2006) which concerns itself with Horus’s rebellion. This series delves into the past of the universe and is continually shedding more and more light on what a previously been a hazy page or two of material. The overarching tale is one of epic proportions, but the “smaller” stories shine no less brightly. Even with the series due to stand at fifteen novels long by the start of next year the story is a long way from ending.
Secondly there is the “present” universe. Dealing with everything from the Imperial Guard (Dan Abnett’s fantastic Gaunt’s Ghosts series) the shadowy workings of the Inquisition (Mr Abnett once again) to the different chapters of Space Marines (Graham McNeill amongst many others) and other diverse races and characters the stories are more wide ranging than those covered in the Heresy series, and shows a much different Imperium.
The world of Warhammer 40,000 is a dark and terrible place and one that I recommend because of the fantastic books produced within it’s framework. All being well I will put up the long promised Enforcer review tomorrow and give a full example. Hopefully the last few posts have been useful and insightful to some degree.
... as a partner post to Chris' (very impressive) review this week. However! The latest Artemis Fowl was released and my dad was very kind and brought it home for me. So really, I HAD to read it before finishing girl with the dragon tattoo... I had to.
I also acknowledge that this, being a definite children's book, probably shouldn't really have a place in the heart of a nineteen year old girl who's at university and considers herself... well... relatively mature. (Stop laughing)
But there's something about fairies, and there's something about Artemis Fowl that had my own mother (sob) trying to steal the book from me while I got her a coffee. Those who have read at least the first book will know that the basis of the series is the title character's tangles with the (literally) underground fairy civilization.
(Basic introduction to series follows, skip if already frustrated with me talking about the previous books) Artemis Fowl was first introduced to us as an Irish heir to a criminal empire, and a boy genius. His basic personality means that he knows he is cleverer than anybody, and thus is better than everybody. Without spoilers, the necessary characters are him, his gigantic bodyguard known as Butler, Butler's sister Juliet, and Artemis' long suffering mother. Upon discovering the existence of the fairies, Artemis hatched a plan to exploit them and return the Fowl empire to the greatest in the criminal world. This was attempted by kidnapping Captain Holly Short or the LEP (Lower Elements Police) recon. Yes, a leprechaun, by job description. And there's Foaly, the LEP's tech... centaur... guy, with intelligence that rivals Artemis' own. Basic characters introduced, and without spoilers, the books follow many adventures during which Artemis and the fairies get somehow messily involved with each other.
(Back to book 7) The Atlantis Complex begins with Artemis showing up in the Tundra of Iceland, preparing a meeting with the LEP bigwigs (and Holly and Foaly) to propose a way of preventing global warming using illegal (and very clever) methods. Oh, wait... Butler's not here? No, he's not. Unfortunately Artemis has developed something the fairies know as (title!) the Atlantis complex, which means that due to guilt over his various misdeeds, he has developed a form of OCD and multiple personality disorder, and driven by paranoia, has sent Butler to Mexico on a wild goose chase. The new Artemis is terrified by the number four, and only feels secure around the number five. And when little biological fairy robots fall from the sky, another personality takes over.
Orion is pretty funny, if only because he's so ridiculous. Artemis' alter ego is a sappy romantic obsessed with Holly, and who thinks of Foaly as nothing more than a "noble steed". Enter, of course, a horrible messiness involving incarcerated prisoner Turnball Root. Commander Root's brother who has an elaborate (and destructive) escape plan in action. Driven by the desire to reunite with his human wife, Turnball is pulling out all the stops and going after the lives of those that pose a threat.
Without going much further into plot, I'll start by saying that this book is different to the others before it for a couple of reasons- firstly, the end isn't a resolution. Whereas the other books ended very completely, perhaps so Eoin Colfer could stop writing them whenever he wanted, this book finished with several loose ends, and as Artemis himself says, "This adventure was different." The villain isn't a total nut, but a person with whom the reader (and our heroes) can sympathize, and the relationships between the protagonists remains complicated and undefined. Nothing is resolved on a personal level, though the overall world is saved for now. The ending also has me a little saddened, though technically it's still good-guys-save-the-day. In my opinion the books have matured in the way Harry Potter did; the original Artemis Fowl audience is growing up, as is Fowl himself, so the plot becomes more complex,the characters less Black-and-White, and the themes more mature. As with Harry Potter, Artemis Fowl is on many levels a brilliant piece of adult fiction as well as children's. I can only speculate as to why the books haven't been made into a film, though in my opinion keeping them in book form is a good idea, simply because I don't want my characters ruined (grin).
The books have matured, but The Atlantis Complex doesn't lose the series' staple witty humour and sheer brilliant character interaction. The book still pokes fun at itself, and the banter between characters is still as sharp as ever, though the progression of friendship is evident. Colfer's characters are so complete, that even the different ways they deal with Artemis' problems is perfect. Foaly and Mulch's insensitivity, Butler's despair at losing his friend, and Holly's frustration over the whole situation is surprisingly realistic. Even Artemis doesn't break character himself, when clearly irritated at his own actions his thoughts have to make you laugh as he takes a rather bizarrely pragmatic and logical approach to his own instability.
An example of why I love this book (and series) is pretty much demonstrated in a short piece of dialogue between Butler and Juliet, wherein Butler is talking about Artemis' paranoia. On why Artemis thinks his three year old brothers are conspiring against him:
" 'Artemis doesn't trust Myles and Beckett? That's just ridiculous.
What terrible acts of sabotage are three-year-olds supposed to commit?'
Butler grimaced. 'Unfortunately, Myles contaminated one of Artemis's
Petri dishes when he wanted a sample for his own experiments.'
'That's hardly industrial espionage. What did Beckett do?'
'He ate Artemis's hamster.'... 'Well, he chewed on his leg for a bit.' "
That extract proves no point. I just thought it was hilarious.
Not so long ago, I was reading through a story for a friend and the question of conflict came up. This led me to go and see what the wondrous wisdom of the internet had to say on the matter and the consensus was pretty much the following:
Good storytelling is all about drama and drama is all about conflict.
If you haven’t got conflict, you haven’t got a story.
Which, y’know, isn’t bad advice. If a story is length of rope, then conflict provides the tension to keep it taut. Slack ropes have been responsible for many of history’s greatest catastrophes. General Custer at the battle of Little Bighorn, for example, was unable to issue the commands that might have saved his forces due to getting his foot caught in an errantly slack length of rope, tripping over and getting his head stuck in a gopher hole. He knew nothing more of the massacre until a vengeful Cheyenne drove a buffalo up his ass. True story.
Anyway, knowing you need conflict is all well and good, but none of the articles I read actually explained why. As I’ve said before, my background includes both psychology on the one hand and systems analysis/design on the other. For me, it’s not enough to describe such a mechanism by simply going:
'The more you turn the conflict wheel, the greater the oscillations of the reader’s satisfaction flange.'
No, I want to know how that turning creates oscillations and why a greater oscillation rate increases the reader’s satisfaction. If I know that, then that might lead me to deduce that there are diminishing returns if the conflict wheel is spun at more than 136rpm or that if the reader’s satisfaction flange oscillates at more than 26MHz, it tends to break off, hit someone in the eye and then you need to order a new part in from China at a cost of £372 plus import duty, as well as a further £2,782 to settle the personal injury claim brought by whoever’s eye you just punctured.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to work that out in this article, but I’ll give it a go. This is going to be a stream of consciousness thing, so you may want to get yourself a raft or a flotation ring, because things might get choppy!
That really wasn’t necessary, was it? ‘Things might get choppy!’? If I had any self-respect, I would have at least dropped the exclamation mark.
Still, it’s something to bear in mind, as is the fact that the flotation ring might be the more cost effective option because later on it could serve as a haemorrhoid cushion. And by later on I mean in some hypothetical distant future where you get haemorrhoids, as opposed to during the reading of this post. I’m fairly sure my writing won’t give you haemorrhoids.
Also, if the stream starts turning a yellow colour, then you’re not riding consciousness any more…
So, we’ve got a psychological framework for stories. They probably evolved as a teaching tool that arose from primitive humans’ newfound ability to turn physical actions into abstract principles - metaphors, in other words.
Now, in that context, why would the age-old story about good overcoming evil work better with good struggling to succeed, as opposed to simply bopping evil on the head in the first act?
Well, real life would ably disprove the notion of easily defeated evil as soon as evil raised its head and turned out to be two feet taller and one hundred pounds heavier. By having the hero try and fail, try and fail, try and succeed, it teaches the audience that the happy ending can still be attained, no matter how many times evil stamps on your head and grinds your face into cow manure.
But I must admit that explanation feels a bit weak to me. It may apply to a story in general, but it doesn’t explain why every scene works better with conflict and drama.
Perhaps then, it’s more a question of expectation. When two forces are placed in conflict, things happen. Dangerous things. Things that are likely to require our attention.
We’re back in prehistoric times. You’re a semi-evolved homo sapien (just for the purposes of this example, you understand). Over here, are two rocks. They are just sitting there. They will continue to sit there for the next million years. There is no conflict between them on any scale. Over there, on the other hand, is a Tyrannosaurus Rex and Triceratops squaring off against each other! (Because, of course, we have gone back to the prehistoric times of Hollywood, not that of the established fossil record). The Tyrannosaurus Rex is circling warily, feinting with those fearsome teeth, while the Triceratops is snarling the dinosaurian equivalent of ‘come on then, if you think you’re hard enough’.
Which of these two sights, as a semi-evolved homo sapien, are you going to look at? The rocks or the dinosaurs? Which has a greater bearing on your continued survival? The fallout of a saurian scrap or the fallout of two rocks doing nothing at all?
This tickles my reason centres with a greater rate of oscillation than the previous idea. From a survival point of view, there is no pressing need to pay attention to peaceful harmony. It’s not going to be a threat. But any form of conflict in our vicinity immediately draws our attention, because the consequences could be profound for our continued existence.
Big Bad Bill McGruff is snarling at us. He has a broken bottle in his hand. He’s shouting something about us spilling his pint, running over his dog and taking his girlfriend up the back alley. We best pay attention.
The television news is saying that civil war has just broken out in Umbobostan. Our nephew’s over there, helping out with the Red Cross. Will he be all right? We best pay attention.
This cheery fellow in this book we’re reading gets on with all his friends, has a good job, happy marriage and is just about to start painting his house, which we already know from a flash-forward framing device takes him fifteen years and passes entirely without incident. We best go find something else to pay attention to.
Yes, I think I’m going to go with that. Every scene in a book has to be underpinned with conflict, either explicit:
Waaa! Bad guy with gun! Explosions! Argument with romantic interest!
… or implicit:
“But little did our hero know…” “Rumours came of a new Dark Lord rising in the toilet…” “His wife nodded, but stiffly, as if agreement had been forced out of her with a hot poker shoved up her…”
… because that conflict either describes action or creates an expectation of action to follow and our evolved instincts know to pay attention.
No conflict, no interest.
It’s why a good story starts with a hook and immediately shows us forces set in opposition. It’s why a good story ends as soon as all its conflicts have been resolved.
That said, I think there are cases where an audience’s interest can be retained without conflict. Well, I say cases, only one springs to mind and that requires playing to innate human curiosity.
Oh, look, over there, a white rabbit with a pocket watch. “I’m late, I’m late,” he’s saying. He’s now running off that-away. Are you curious as to where this curious creature is going? Probably. Are you more curious about what he’s going to do than what those two inanimate rocks are going to do? Definitely. Are you so curious that you’re going to take your eye off those sparring dinosaurs, who are now grappling on the floor and rolling in your direction? Probably not.
Curiosity politely requests your attention, conflict demands it. The bigger the conflict, the more demanding it is.
Of course, badly written conflict can still turn people away and then there is that confounding 'reader factor'. Wendy may be evolutionarily predisposed to attend to conflict, but her personal history makes her actively avoid it, even in fiction. She wants cosy, no-drama-here stories, because even the prospect of minor disagreements dredges up memories of the bitter arguments she had as a child with her invisible friend, Ralph, which led to Ralph trying to drown Wendy in a bird bath.
You could legitimately target this Wendy's niche reading preferences, but bear in mind everyone else will quickly grow tired of the peaceful bonhomie and seek out a more dramatic story instead.
Ooh, and look, because you were paying attention, you were able to step aside and avoid being crushed by those wrestling Jurassic reptiles, which, alas, is more than I can say of that unfortunate white rabbit, who is now definitely and irredeemably late.
The scientific disclaimer:
Despite the anecdotal evidence of the squashed rabbit, you shouldn't trust my theory (or indeed any other) without the evidence of experiments and careful, real-world observations. I haven't surveyed any psychological research papers, so maybe such evidence already exists, but whether it does or not, the theory is strong enough to make some testable predictions. For example, a research subject is asked to watch a succession of images scrolling across a screen. At any one time, five of those images are visible simultaneously. Random images show situations suggestive of conflict (e.g. two people arguing), while the rest show neutral situations (e.g. an unpopulated landscape). This theory hypothesises that pupil tracking would show a subject spends significantly more time looking at the conflict images.
Just when I thought it was safe to go back into the water, that the superlatives and invectives have all been hurled and I could actually sit down and see what all the fuss was about, the ghost of Stieg Larsson and his Millenium Trilogy have bounced back in the American spotlight, due to the seemingly simultaneous release of the third and final book, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest, the US DVD release of the Swedish adaptation of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, the news of the American remake being helmed by David Fincher, and the international release of the film based on the second novel, The Girl Who Played With Fire. The championing and decrying of the series have taken on Twilight proportions, each side becoming descending into the type of arguing you see in a children’s schoolyard or, more appropriately, a post about Twilight:
Person 1:The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is the best mystery of all time! You suck! Person 2: It’s a piece of $#@!, and YOU suck!
God Bless the Internet.
My natural response to rabid fandom and it’s polar opposite (rabid un-fandom?) is to cry “fie” on both parties and leave the scene of the crime. But since I already had a copy of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and I was curious – an American phenomenon I can ignore (we are, after all, heathens), but an honest to goodness International phenomenon? I had to decide for myself.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo turns not to not be nearly as bad as the haters would leave you to believe. Unfortunately, it’s not nearly as good as the lovers would have you believe, either. It’s a serviceable mass-market thriller that despite its length (640 pages) reads very quickly, features an interesting character dynamic between its two leads, plenty of lurid sex and violence and some interesting set pieces around its central mystery.
It’s also easily 100 pages too long, bereft of any real emotional involvement, clunky in its dialogue, ambiguous at best and ambivalent at worst as to the nature and motivations of its main protagonist, and fumbles a major subplot, ignoring it for almost the entire novel, then returning to it for the lat 70 pages after the reader has already received their satisfaction at the conclusion of the main mystery.
Before continuing, a brief summary of the story for those who haven’t been inundated by the latest media blitz: Mikeal Blomkvist is a tired, weathered journalist and editor of the Millennium news magazine who, at the novel’s opening, is found guilty in a libel case against a Swedish industrialist. Faced with an impending 90-day prison sentence, he takes a leave of absence from the magazine when he’s approached by Henrik Vanger, CEO of the Vanger Corporation with an offer Blomkvist can’t refuse: under the cover of writing Vanger’s biography he’s charged with solving a mystery – the disappearance and possible murder 40 years previously of Henriks’s beloved niece Harriet. Joining in the investigation is Lisabeth Salender (the titular “Girl”), a brilliant researcher and computer hacker who is drawn into Blomkvist’s world when she is hired to do a background check on him. Blomkvist and Salander uncover much more than any of the surviving members of the Vanger family would like, and pretty soon the pair are up to their necks in sadistic trouble.
The original title of the novel translates to “Men Who Hate Women”, and it’s a fitting theme to the story. There are numerous instances of brutal violence, some of which are implied or reported on after the fact, but some of which happen during the course of the novel. Larsson was supposedly addressing a major concern in the current Swedish culture, but the way he paints the action and his response to it, in the form of Lisabeth’s own revenge, strikes me as more than a bit odd. Her carefully calculated and no less violent form of revenge on her adversaries does little to recommend her in my mind as a strongly written female rather than just make her a cardboard cutout like everyone else in the book. Even the question as to her own mental health – for all the talk of her having Asperger’s there's only one mention of it in the first novel, and it’s a guess by a reporter who doesn’t seem to have any background in medicine – feels like something tacked on instead of being a integral piece of her character.
Despite this, she’s still the best thing in the novel (and the film for that matter, but that’s another discussion). Mikael, the ostensible protagonist, is paper-thin in terms of actual character, a grizzled, brilliant journalist whose integrity is beyond reproach even as he sleeps with three different women (two of who – of course – fall for him) in the course of the novel. The supporting characters don’t fare much better, and anyone who’s read more than half a dozen mysteries will probably figure out who the villain is as soon as they’re introduced.
And yet (there’s always a “yet”), there was enough potential in The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo that I can’t dismiss it entirely out of hand. It’s your standard potboiler, no more, no less, satisfying all the needs for a simple beach read. The central mystery was engaging despite the wooden writing, and Larsson’s knowledge of the newspaper world and some of the background the novel covers shows through in the writing. I enjoyed discovering the clues that led to the answer surrounding Harriet Vanger’s disappearance, and I was intrigued enough by Lisabeth Salander that I’ll be reading The Girl Who Played With Fire next week while I’m on vacation.
