The Found and the Lost is a collection of novellas by Ursula Le Guin, the founding mother of fantasy and SF as we know today. It’s a perfect book for both die-hard fans and for those who have never had the pleasure of reading anything by Le Guin before. A doorstop of a book at 600 pages in my digital copy and 816 pages in hardcover, it contains 13 novellas written in the period between 1971 (Vaster Than Empires and More Slow) to 2002 (Paradises Lost). The collection is presented mostly in a chronological order, but another categorization rule readily comes to mind while reading as the novellas can be divided into three main groups: Earthsea, Hainish cycle and “other”.
A sequel of sorts to the critically acclaimed Powder Mage trilogy, Sins of Empire takes us ten years forward and half a world away from Adro, to the newly created country and nation of Fatrasta. When Taniel Two-Shot more than a decade ago helped the Fatrastans win their independence from the Kez, he fought alongside Old-World Kressians and aboriginal Palos. But now, as the nation of Fatrasta has become increasingly rich and influential, its leaders and Kressian elites have started to mercilessly exploit the weaknesses of Palo. The internal inequalities and segregation policies introduced by Kressians pushed the mutual distrust between the former colonialists from all over the Nine and the aboriginal tribes of Palos toward political unrest and a bloody civil war. And when the empire of Dynize, remaining in self-imposed isolationism for the last four hundred years, comes knocking with a big-ass fleet of war ships and an army bloodied earlier in a cruel civil war, things get even more dire pretty soon.
Let’s take a tour through the streets of the fabled city of Bulikov, where gods lived, where they created and destroyed, took care of their followers and inevitably issued edicts. Bulikov, city of grand spires and beautiful gardens, shining like an immense jewel of the world. A seat of gods, a place of power, a source of pride – and hubris – for the people dwelling on the Continent.
If you were to walk through the streets of Bulikov now, you wouldn’t see any of the wonders. You’d see a forest of decrepit, half-ruined buildings, hundreds of thousands of stairs ending in the thin air, as if cut by a gigantic scythe, and a sea of poverty, resentment and anger.
Because the gods weren’t omnipotent, omniscient or immortal. They were killed, and with their destruction came the destruction of everything they have ever built. Bulikov is now a gaping wound in social memory, a festering boil waiting to burst at the slightest pressure. And guess what? That pressure is easily applied, from many directions at once.
The Warrior Prophet is the second installment in Bakker’s well-known trilogy Prince of Nothing. The first book, The Darkness That Comes Before, brought about an intriguing world, closely mirroring early medieval Europe, particularly the First Crusade, but also imbued with many-flavored, dangerous magic as well as with a secret knowledge of a past Apocalypse.
The first installment, despite its numerous flaws detailed in my earlier review, had been promising enough to lure me into reading the second book. The first book in any trilogy is an opening. A statement, a brag, an invitation. It shouts loudly and clearly the intentions and ambitions of an author, but it is also, maybe even mainly, a promise. A promise of what will come after – after the game is set, the figures introduced and prepared for action, and the beginnings of all the plot strands are woven. It’s also a promise of getting ever better. The second book should fulfill that promise, leaving the readers yearning for more, waiting for a satisfying, all-encompassing conclusion of part three (at least in case of trilogy). Does The Warrior Prophet deliver on that promise?
N.K. Jemisin is probably best known for winning this year’s Hugo award for best novel – The Fifth Season, set in The Broken Earth realm. The Killing Moon is a book set in a different reality, but praised as one of her best works to date. Because I started my acquaintance with her prose with a short story set in the same world as The Killing Moon, and because I had access to Killing Moon, not The Fifth Season ;), I decided this would be my first serious intro into Jemisin’s prose.
The Killing Moon takes place in an alternate, very Earth-like (more precisely, ancient Egypt-and-Nubia-like) setting. It’s basically Earth (actually, Earth-like moon orbiting a gas giant, which has one other moon as well) – where all the beliefs about magical power of dreams, about the four “humors” of human body, are true. The soul is something tangible; a precious essence of a human being, which can be, by metaphysical means, touched, preserved or destroyed. It can be led peacefully to the land beyond the realms of living; it can be ripped away from the body, resulting in imminent, and incredibly painful, death. Ah, but this essence, the soul of a conscious being, is also a source of potent magic. It can give strength, intellect, youthfulness, even immortality. As well as an incurable taste for more.
Tad Williams, The Dragonbone Chair
It seems to be a sentiment commonly held by history’s prominent rulers. Half the great churches, mosques and other temples were build to bribe gods, and great kings were convinced that common transgressions against morality will be forgiven in return for all they’ve done to further their deities earthly power.
Yes, I’m reading Memory, Sorrow and Thorne, series I’ve had on my shelves for six years. And I like it a lot, safely predictable, but great fun. Oldschool fantasy they don’t write any more. A caveat – I can’t guarantee I won’t change my mind, I’m only 50 pages in…
I’m back from vacation, at least for a few days ;). And thus I can give you the first review from my summer readings :).
The first installment in the famous grimdark sequence The Prince of Nothing, The Darkness That Comes Before, is as long and convoluted as its title. An almost 650 pages long, heavy piece of literary work (both literally and figuratively), Bakker’s debut had been a resounding one as well.
A time of Second Apocalypse is nigh… Sounds captivating, doesn’t it? It means that the First Apocalypse had already happened, that it wasn’t as all-encompassing as to kill everyone, and that survivors managed to carry the knowledge of that terrible event through the centuries to come. Unfortunately those in the know are few and far between, and do not enjoy any kind of esteem from their contemporaries. So it doesn’t come as a big surprise that they somehow failed to share their knowledge with others, and in the consequence, the majority of the humanity is heading blindly and meekly, like lambs, to their slaughter.