A while back I began to collect some fantasy novels I'd had my eyes on. I used to wait until a fantasy series was complete before beginning to read book1, but I did still like to purchase those that I was interested in, having them on my TBR shelves, staring at me, sitting, waiting.
   These days due to unreliable publishers, inconsistent formatting, vanishing dust jackets and a strange shift in cover finishes (from glossy to matte or vice versa), and of course, lastly and not leastly; due to the unreliability of certain authors I've mostly come to abandon my keeping in tune book-buying and instead have shifted to only purchasing books when the whole endeavour I'm interested in is complete. I'm only one person and I already have over a 1000 physical books waiting on my TBR shelves, and I frankly don't need the hassle of chasing down editions in a series that can't or won't match.
   And even then, it can still go wrong sometimes, to whit I present you the evidence:

armando simoni club gladiatore medio review

Books I finished in 2021

 

Hot on the heels of my last 'read in 2020' post is... the 'Books I read in 2021'...

oh boy.. been neglecting this place hmm?

Read in 2020 (part 3)

 At the end of the year I also rushed through a few novella-length books, and among these was the Soul Drinkers Novella Daenyathos.

This one had been on my shelves for quite some time, since 2013 I think when the Soul Drinkers' new omnibi editions came out, but which books I both somehow missed out on, despite actually getting the separate hardback novella, which is just bloody typical isn't it?
The Soul Drinkers series of books concerns a space marine chapter which, despite remaining loyal to the Emperor, slowly succumbs to corruption and mutation. I remember the books being hugely entertaining, visceral and as creatively gruesome and imaginative as only Ben Counter could make them. The gist of the overarching plot is that the longer the series progresses, the more mutation crops up in the characters and the more their fall to Chaos becomes, or seems to become, inevitable. But despite this, these mutations and indications of corruption, for instance; their chapter-master losing his legs and growing spider legs in place, the Soul Drinkers remain a force loyal to Terra.
I have only read the first three novels, because when the omnibis for books 4,5 and 6 came out ( yes, TWO different omnibi's of books 4,5 and 6) they were pretty much immediately sold out, because Games Workshop is stupid and prefers to stifle its production to drive up the price, and so I actually never got to finish reading the series. And though I got the Daenyathos novella at that time, it seemed stupid to me to actually go read that when I couldn't finish reading the entire saga.
But stupid or not I've finished it now, and despite having become quite vague on the details of the rest of the series, I still actually enjoyed doing so. The novella's main draw is that it follows, shockingly, Daenyathos on his journey to entombment in a Dreadnought, with several shocking revelations along the way. It's quite action-packed but also frequently ruminative and though I was satisfied, I do wish I had read the damn thing right along with the rest of the series.

Another (very) short one was George RR Martin's The Ice Dragon, which technically speaking is more of a short story than anything else, but which, given the man's popularity at a certain point, was published a few years ago all on its own in a ridiculously lavish edition, wraparound dustjacket, internal artwork and all. It's a fairy tale set in the world of Ice and Fire and it's decent, though quite a little bit too short to warrant a standalone edition. 

The plot follows a young girl who has more in common with creatures of ice than anything warm-blooded, and so when an Ice Dragon shows up (I mean, my God, what a surprise, right?) she begins to spend more and more time away from her family and more with the alien creature. But war looms on the horizon, and the girl's Ice Dragon isn't the only dragon in the skies. The ending is quite poignant, unexpected, and very good. It's a real addition to the world, not feeling out of place and yet retaining enough "alien-ness" to set it apart from the main series.

I'd been a fan of 2000AD's Tales of Telguuth comics and I picked up this short story collection as soon as I knew it existed. Both comics and the writings here were written by Steve Moore, a long-time friend of Alan Moore (though not a relation).

Despite the change in format, from comics to prose, the tales here genuinely 'feel' like the world we've come to know in the Telguuth comics, and that's because it's really Moore's writing the brought it all to life. Again we're treated to beautiful, lyrical prose, gorgeous naming, both hilarious, heartfelt and horrific stories, with memorable pro and antagonists and a feeling that you're in one of the most vibrant creations in fiction. It's a shame there's so little of it, but I recommend anyone, those lovers of the English language at least, to seek out these perfect stories. A joy to read out loud.

Lastly, there's a few novels here that I feel I should be writing a whole lot more about, and they should at least have been giving their own posts. But as writing is really something that I'm having severe difficulties with these days, this is better than nothing.

The Tooth Fairy is the last of the Terror 8 I still needed to read, and it ended up being quite a different story than I was expecting. It was a disturbing and at times rather an uncomfortable reading experience, but with the uneasiness coming from real life elements, rather than from the horror-trappings I was expecting. The Tooth Fairy is essentially a coming-of-age story dressed in dark fantasy clothing. It's a very sexually charged story, and though it never gets as ill-conceived as some of those sections from Stephen King's It, there's nevertheless some strange stuff in here. It might be better than King's novel, but only barely. Summer of Night is still the best one in this genre.

Next up, another novel that I should've given more attention to, but that for more reasons than usual I don't. 

The Dragon Waiting is one of the novels of Gollancz's Fantasy Masterworks line and should really get its own post, exploring various aspects of the story, or an in-depth exploration of something that caught my attention or whatever, but both my disinterest on writing in general (for the moment) and my opinions concerning this book in particular have conspired to make me abstain from writing anything at all. You see, despite it being highly regarded by the literary world at large, and regardless of it being a beloved favourite by anyone who's read it, I don't actually think The Dragon Waiting is all that good.

Even though, yes, of course, it is.

But it certainly isn't a Masterwork. It meanders all over the place,  Hell, it isn't even conclusive, the story ends, or rather it doesn't, and instead sets itself up for a sequel. But there isn't one.

It does things masterfully well though: the characters, the time period... hell, even the feel of the whole thing is genuinely unique; from roman, to the celtic, to the dark ages, the periods that it visits all feel authentic, but despite everything that it does right one can't help but feel that there should be more.

By and large the Dragon Waiting feels woefully incomplete; you can not help but feel, and wishing that there was more to come. Alas.

Lastly, this awesome set of books.

Part horror, part sci-fi and fantasy, the Coldfire trilogy is a brilliant piece of fiction.

 It has a heavy focus on religion, an engaging world and memorable characters.

If there's one thing I didn't like about it, then it is the ending, which was just a bit too wishful for me. Most other people would be more than fine with it I guess, but for me the ending kind of undercut the gravity of the sacrifices made along the way.

Read in 2020 (Part 2)

 

Ligotti's My Work is not yet done is another slim volume,  this time one comprising three shorter stories. Ligotti is always interesting, though he does tend to feel repetitive after a while. That said, despite some niggles that approach that feeling, I did have an unwholesomely fun time.

     The titular first story, comfortably the longest, is the most familiar one and readily the easiest to entice a reader with: a disgruntled employee is aided by a dark supernatural force and takes vengeance on his employer and co-workers. It's an alright story, and other than the really quite satisfying vicarious thrill one gets when reading the parts where vengeance gets enacted, there's not much that is memorable here. It's part and parcel of Ligotti's style for me. For some reason alot of his writing slides right off of me.

     The other two stories 'I Have a Special Plan for this World' and 'The Nightmare Network' are both of a different caliber, and though regrettably short, they do stick in the mind a bit longer, even though the stories' ideas are abstract, and the execution, of 'The Nightmare Network' in particular, unconventional. I you like dark and weird fiction this novel is one to pick up.

This book is a short collection of the stories comprising the 'King in Yellow' canon, as written by Robert W. Chambers, together with about 6 other of his stories of a more romantic nature. Those were actually  surprisingly good, and quite beautiful, 'The Street of the First Shell' in particular.

I've long wanted to read everything concerning the King in Yellow ever since I saw season 1 of True Detective, and so then imagine my disappointment that there's only 4 original stories, all depressingly short, and all rather more circumspect and vague about the whole 'Carcosa and the Yellow King' -thing than I would've wanted. There's hardly any lore to speak of, really. There's very little information on 'the play that drives men mad', the city of Carcosa or even of the eponymous king. It seems Chambers' Yellow King fame is mostly due to Lovecraft's borrowing of some of the names referenced here for his own mythos, most of which was then yet to be written, and which; those references, then was made into a kind of extended universe by gaming hobbyists and lore-scribes years and years later. They're not bad stories, mind, I was just expecting so much more, and so I couldn't be anything else but disappointed.

     The next one then I was warned about before going in; repetitive, formulaic and inconsequential, 'read one, you've read 'em all', volume 1 of the Complete Tales of Jules de Grandin.

And of course, surprise surprise, I hugely enjoyed it. Expectation, or lack of it, changes everything.

I mostly picked the 5 volumes up because of the cover art, and because I love publisher Night Shade's collected editions in general. For Seabury Quinn Nightshade collected his 93 stories of the occult detective Jules de Grandin over 5 volumes. One introduction later and I had doubts about the whole thing, because the introduction advises that any new reader of these tales would do well by spacing out the stories over the course of two years, a short story a week or so. Which advice naturally does nothing less than dispirit one about quality of what one is about to read. And so, suitably having my anticipation for any further reading crushed, I couldn't end up anything other than just being thoroughly entertained.

They are repetitive indeed, but it's a comfortable repetitiveness, kinda like watching Midsomer Murders, or some other old, venerable show, where relaxation, if not actual joy, is derived from familiarity. Weekly meetings with people you've come to know, and enjoy the company of. Poirot mixed with Sherlock Holmes, with a 'monster of the week' premise. Occasionally supernatural, sometimes mere human devilry. Every time I picked volume 1 up I was looking forward to what was in stor for me.

My favourite in volume 1 is probably 'The White Lady of the Orphanage' which was one of the human culprit stories, but which was so nasty and gruesome that it managed to stick out from the rest.

     Here then, is another form of comfort food, the good old Warhammer fiction. Again I didn't read as much as I'd have liked, and I still don't have an individual copy of Wulfrik (so I can't show that one), but I did read some interesting stuff nonetheless.

These three are connected in interesting ways. And though I've already talked about Luthor huss around here, and it doesn't merit much more attention, the other two do.

  After finishing the Luthor Huss book I remembered that I still had a book lying around that also had him as a major character. And since his own book didn't delve into what I really wanted to see from him; his role in the bringing of the reincarnation of Sigmar to the Empire, I was hoping that the Marks of Chaos omnibus would end up more satisfying (, at least in this particular regard, as Luthor Huss was a damn fine book all on its own.) And though yes, we indeed end up in the company of Huss and the man called Valten during the course of Marks of Chaos, it doesn't really end up being the main event.

Marks of Chaos is also what you call a Heretic Tome, one of those novels of the Old World's middle period, where the Black library still allowed their writers to go for whatever they wanted, provided they crafted their stories around by the existing lore. And that's why the Witch Hunter's Handbook is here, courtesy of the Ink-Stained Beard, who managed to track down a rare copy just to gift it to me.

What a great chap, isn't he?

The story of Marks of Chaos is the story of Karl Hoche, who is recruited into the ranks of the Untersuchung, which is then promptly dismantled and declared ex communicado and 'order heretical' by the Witch Hunters under control by Lord Protector Thaddeus Gamow. The same Gamow who, together with another crucial player, Karen Schiller, is mentioned in the introduction of the Handbook and referenced throughout. In this it's really cool to see how close these things work together.

Karl Hoche has to go on the run and works in isolation to untangle a web of deceit and subterfuge that is being played out around him.
I admit, throughout the story I was constantly lost as to what was really going on. There are so many elements at play, and Karl himself is so out of the loop that he frequently ends up in locations where crucial events have already just taken place. This does create an interesting atmosphere and a growing conviction that there is a massive conspiracy afoot, and that Karl might just be the only one able to stop it all from playing out, working as he does just at the fringes, hunted by both sides.

And that's only the first novel in the omnibus.

It's the second that delves into the matter of Luthor Huss, and it is here that we get what we're after; the depiction of a zealous cleric, a firebrand in opposition to a stagnant church, and the man granted a vision of Sigmar reborn. Like Mark of Damnation, Mark of Heresy sticks close to the lore as it wa set out at the time. It's a good story, but incompatible with what Old World fiction came to be. Sadly it also has but a smidgen of the power that Chris Wraight's Luthor Huss novel has. It's interesting to read, but sadly outpaced and outdated, and with an ending that promises more to come, but which promise sadly enough is reneged on. James Wallis didn't return to Karl Hoche's plight, his adventures left off the page and up only to the imagination.
It feels as if I'm giving the a wrong impression here, so here it goes; I enjoyed reading the Marks of Chaos omnibus, and if by some chance you get it (which is honestly very unlikely), it's a decent read.

Read in 2020 (part 1)

     I had some trouble reading this year, and I didn't get to read even close to as much as I would've liked.

But as you can see, it's not all a loss. By the end of the year I was back up to more normal reading speed and what you see above was mostly read then, and though there's a few of those that I'd still like to review, most of these books will just have to content themselves by just being given a quick run-down here. I've also decided to split this one up over several posts. Blogger is incredibly glitchy these days...

Though it was at the time still the most significant read yet ahead, hindsight has proven it a slightly underwhelming experience. But, Scott Bakker's Aspect Emperor cycle, despite my misgivings and minor quibbles, did manage to constantly surprise and engage.

     The story of Kellhus' march towards Golgotterath in order to liberate the world from the greatest evil it had ever seen ended up being one of the boldest stories ever told. And that's not hyperbole either, sure you might not like it, but damn me if that last book doesn't quite do the unthinkable. (well, I say unthinkable, but I swear to you that I saw it coming, even though it all didn't quite go down as I thought).

     It's really quite an impressive bit of drama. Exceedingly dark, stomach-turning, and ever more fucked-up the longer it went on. Was it satisfying? I still can't tell.

     I do however still feel that the last two books should be revisited and thoroughly edited by its author. The strained relationship between Bakker and Overlook has unquestionably left its mark, and it's a damn shame. Where the Judging Eye and The White-Luck Warrior fit together seamlessly, in themes, execution and style, both The Great Ordeal and The Unholy Consult give off different vibes, and are inconsistent in both execution and writing quality. But whatever one can say about it as a whole, the Aspect Emperor's ending is unrivaled. Unconscionable and ruthless, and still haunting, even ten months later.

And then of course, there is this one:

     My feelings on Gravity's Rainbow haven't changed, and my opinion on it is still the same. But I will always doubt those that say they unreservedly love it. Closet-pederast or just lying about having read it? Who can tell? I'm using harsh words, and though there are of course many ways that one can enjoy this novel, there's also just a few too many moments where it just straight-up crosses the line.

On these three I have not much to say right now, except that I've been working on some reviews for them. One of the main goals I have here on the blog is to give every Warhammer Horror story its own review, which in itself isn't too difficult.

     But, I'm worried I've left it all too long to do them any justice, and writing these days remains a daunting prospect.

I also finished off the next two issues of Vastarien, and am now only 1 issue behind, sadly, that issue isn't in stock right now, so I'll have to find a second hand copy somewhere.

     As usual these were a mixed bag, mostly good, but there was also some really pitiful stuff. Some of these, mostly the stories at the back of each volume, are unmitigated self-centered, self-pitying shite. But what do you want? You're reading stories about death ideation and suicide, with themes that are fundamentally selfish and individualistic, and you only come seek these stories out if you've already been taken over by your darkest thoughts.

     But, there's a marked shift in the subject matter nonetheless, the ideas concerning the world and our place in it, our identity or lack of it, death and all its attendent symptoms, seem to be slowly pushed aside by issues concerning gender identity. It fits of course, there's a natural correlation between gender dismorphia and self-hate, and so I don't begrudge it its inclusion here. But I can't help but have my hackles raised whenever I read about it. At any rate, there's still good enough stuff to be found to endeavour to seek out the next (magazine) issues whenever they arrive.

Speaking of...- well no, that would give it away wouldn't it? The Wasp Factory is my first encounter with Iain Banks, and it certainly won't be the last. I've been meaning to dig into his culture novels for ages now but there's always something else that demands my attention.

     I had actually given this book as a gift to a friend some years ago, who has a proclivity for disturbing fiction, and though I frequently have a hankering myself, for some reason I held off on buying it for myself.

     And now that I've finally read it for myself;... yeah, it is weird and quite disturbing. But it is also rather beautiful, written in a unique voice and way more thoughtful than I was expecting.

     The story follows an eccentric boy living together with his father on a small island just off the coast of Scotland. When he's not doing chores, young Frank spends his days hunting small animals, crafting totems and safeguards from their remains in order to protect his home from all who would do it harm.

When he begins getting phone calls from his hospitalized brother, with promises of that one's coming escape and a visit back to the island, Frank's reasons for preparing seem well-founded.

     It's of course definitely not as simple a story as I'm making it out to be here. I'm hiding and glossing over alot. Despite the slim page count there's a lot of surprises, a few of them quite grisly, and the read itself is a compulsive one. I've remarked on the author's voice already but it bears repeating. Iain Banks is one I should maybe have read more of already, but there's always something else. Either way, The Wasp Factory is a very interesting novel and one of the few on this list you could recommend to absolutely anyone. It's a special read. A blend of mystery, coming of age drama and thriller. Go pick it up.

Gravity's Rainbow

I'm going to go and keep this one very short. I did not like reading this book at all and I want to talk about it even less. But as I am pretty compulsive, I need to write down something on it, even if it's just a little bit. and so, naturally, as these things go, the page blooms words.

Over the past few weeks I wrote down a whole hell of a lot on Gravity's Rainbow, most of it very negative, and I've deleted most all of it already, as I've come to the conclusion that I'm just not someone who can talk about it for a few reasons:
     I don't have anywhere near enough background on the facts in the book, how much of them are true and how much of them are not. Regardless, there are a staggering amount of anachronisms in the book, or so it seems to me, most of them involving drugs and drug-use during the second World War, a product of the time, and apparently also the drug trance, in which it was written.
     I am not a native English speaker, so when I'm uncertain about something I tend to give whatever I'm reading the benefit of the doubt, and despite that I think that to do so for this book would be likewise wrong. I also think it's more than likely that some of the book's much lauded humor went over my head or just came across as crass to me, precisely because of this lacking background of native English. It's also obviously dated and will be more so in time.
     I tend to read books for themes and though there were certainly some of those that were interesting to me, the esoteric, the mysticism and the metaphysics especially were fascinating, pretty much all of the rest of them were very much not. There's a huge focus on male genitalia and though it's easy to see why this is, the iconic shape of the rocket is very much a phallic one, it can be overwhelming. There is a crazy amount of sex in this book, most of it very explicit, some of it flat-out obscene, and there were a few that just made me upset with the book as a whole, to such an extent that my stance of giving every book I care to dedicate my time to a fair review, or even just to give my take on it, became impossible.

Simply put, I don't want to talk about it. And yet, here we are.

The central plot points hinge on the creation of secret rockets by the Germans, a secret British agency trying to find them, and one man's strange ability to seemingly predict where a rocket will strike through means of sexual climax. 

There are four parts to the book, and the above premise seems to go out the window by the third. But then, the premise is mine, my attempt to describe the entire plot in as little lines and time as possible, and though these things are there, to dilute the novel so would be wrong.
     Above was also the first time I termed the book a 'novel', and I've avoided doing so because it is also wrong. This is not a novel, and is instead a setting, a set of themes interweaving in and around characters interacting, conflicting and generally, living forwards (most of them). None of it is straight, not the progression, not the truths, not the ending, not anything. Characters inhabit multiple names, seemingly. Characters see angels, ghosts and signs, and all kinds of supernatural trappings are spread throughout the story. Technology rears its head and every reviewer and essayist will espouse the writer's virtues in getting it down so truthfully, and so correct, but, really, it doesn't matter in my opinion, the truth is not something to be sought after in a book like this, and that is despite my worry at the blatant misrepresentation of a drug culture 80 years gone. The first seems pointless, but it's the latter that sticks in my throat, as bizarrely as it distorts landscape, characters and events into something really quite unlikely. The world is a different place under chemicals.

My main problem is that for all the praise the book deserves, there is just so much more stick that it also deserves, which it just doesn't seem to get. 

My main impression is that Gravity's Rainbow is quite a vulgar reading experience. My second is that it fully deserves a second read.

Update

 Just to show I'm still alive.