Links to Keep You Busy

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks for me. I had two conferences, one presentation, a board of directors meeting, plus the usual work and family obligations. Throw in a car wreck (I was rear-ended - thankfully neither my son nor I was seriously hurt) and hectic really doesn’t apply anymore. At least one of the conferences was in New Orleans and that was lots of fun, in spite of missing my family quite a bit. One note – Bourbon Street really is tourist hell, thankfully I went beyond and got a better sense of the city, though I didn’t get the chance to get out to the areas devastated by Katrina – I was on the high ground.

Anyway, on to the links…

• Paolo Bacigalupi asks if fiction writers should write about politics (and answers). John Scalzi has a great post about why writers should (if they want). I’m reminded about the recent SF Signal Mind Meld that covered the subject and my participation. Interesting stuff, though I think we can all agree that the election bullshit is becoming tiresome.

• Joe Haldeman isn’t happy that NY Times columnists can’t think of original book titles.

• Malazan Empire has a fancy new forum – their old one ran out of room.

• I’ll mention it again – FantasyBookSpot is now Bookspot Centeral. Hopefully I’ll find time to update at least some of my old links to reviews I’ve done over there now that they are dead.

• I’ve posted it elsewhere, but it still makes me laugh (remember, I am a Geologist).

Review: The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell & Dustin Thomason (Audiobook)

With my recent move came a longer commute that I make once or twice a week. To fill in some time and arrest the static, I have begun picking up the occasional audiobook. The first book I grabbed is the Da Vinci Code knockoff, The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell & Dustin Thomason and read by Jeff Woodman (US, UK, Canada), thinking that mindless entertainment goes well with driving. I was wrong.

The Rule of Four follows four roommates at Princeton University. Starting with typical college antics, a conspiracy revolving around one roommate’s (Paul) research into an ancient Roman book slowly develops. Paul’s best friend, Tom, the narrator of the story, struggles with his past, his girlfriend, and his future as Paul’s research heats up and becomes deadly serious.

I intentionally used a rather cliché phrase to close the above paragraph – as it’s entirely appropriate for any description of this book. To put things bluntly, if I were reading this book, I would have been shocked if I lasted more that 50 pages. The book is simply that bad. The best way to describe things is that the authors attempt to show off for the entire book. The first half is dominated by silly, nostalgic college stories with the overwhelming feel of how ‘cool’ the authors were for attending Ivy League institutions. Even the authors attempts to forgo this problem only serve to reinforce it – the modest origins of two of the roommates and the token black guy for the third – the fourth is your stereotypical Wall Street banker’s son. Beyond the sickening feeling of how awesome college at Princeton is, the authors make darn sure that the reader is aware of their historical brilliance and literary prowess. Several times I found myself exclaiming ‘Oh God’ as I listened and I even decided I’d rather endure the interspersed static of 80s and 90s pop music or NPR stories I’d already heard than listen to one more minute of the book.

The story itself was cliché, utterly predictable, and populated with characters that I couldn’t find any interest in. Only the isolation of a long drive allowed me to continue. The ending, while definitely not a surprise, does work out well, but it is far from redeeming the rest of the book.

Another aspect of an audiobook is the presentation by the reader, Jeff Woodman. In this case, the reader only seems to reinforce the weaknesses of the book. He insists on making sure each character has a unique voice, and the result is damn near offensive – especially for the token black guy. When not offensive, it is certainly annoying. The main two characters come across as whiney wimps that I really just wanted to hit and the rest are nearly as bad. As mentioned above, the silence of the void (or bad 80s music) was often preferable to listening to this book.

My expectations were low to begin with, and those low expectations served me well since the book was even worse than I had imagined. I can’t recommend The Rule of Four for reading and I certainly can’t recommend the audio version. 2/10

Review: Pandemonium by Daryl Gregory

Following one of the more common routes to becoming a published author, Daryl Gregory, fairly well-known for his short fiction, has just released his first full-length novel, Pandemonium (US, UK, Canada). The world of Pandemonium is a reflection of our own – the difference being that entities known colloquially known as demons inspired by modern pop culture regularly possess people, reeking their own individual havoc in the process.

Possessed as a child by the demon known as the Hellion, Del, now grown, struggles with mental illness and the scars of his past. A car accident resurrects these troubles and Del seeks the comfort of home and a chance to finally rid himself of the affects of the possession that never really left. Thrown into the world of demonology and count-culture world of demon worship, Del wrestles with his identity and the very origins of demon possession.

Pandemonium will appeal to a wide-range of age groups – from the vibrant YA audience all the way through the aging baby-boomer nostalgic for the classic sci-fi and comics of their youth. Through his unique brand of Americana, Gregory explores such varied topics as the treatment of the mentally ill in society, influences of popular culture, and generational clashes of 1950’s-era ideals in the twenty-first century.

Del represents the classic stereotype of the modern young man – a screw-up who can’t hold a job and scrapes by leaning heavily on his family. Del’s foil is his older brother – the ‘good son’ with a successful business and wonderful wife who never moved far away from the family home. The devotion of the brothers to each other, with their at times bitter banter, is one of the touching aspects of Pandemonium. This relatively ideal family behavior is reinforced by the particular pop-culture emphasis of the most visible demons of the story. Strait out of 1950s world, these demons embody the ideals, fears, and mythos a post-World War II America.

Interspersed throughout the narrative are examples of past Demonology that showcase influential demons – the Truth, the Captain, the Little Angel, Smokestack Johnny, the Kamikaze, Boy Marvel, and finally the Hellion. Each shows both a pop-culture alteration of the world and deviation of Gregory’s America from our own – the most interesting and influential deviations being the killing of OJ Simpson in his trial by the vengeful Truth and the assignation of President Eisenhower by the Kamikaze. Other demons make cameo appearances to round out the homage to an earlier age of pop-culture – a ‘monster’ who haunts a rural lake in up-state New York and has become a tourist attraction and a still-living Philip K. Dick, possessed by the demonic sage, Valis. Another classic sci-fi reference of note is a secret society devoted to the extermination of demons founded by fans of A.E. van Vogt.

In many ways, Pandemonium shows us the death of 1950s pop-culture in our twenty-first century world. Or it tells a fun, accessible story of a journey through Americana. Both interpretations are true and Daryl Gregory’s debut entertains at multiple levels and shows a promise for more to come in the future. 7.5/10

Related Posts: Interview with Daryl Gregory

A Few More Links

I’ve been pretty well slammed in terms of being busy, but I still have a few interesting links to share (mostly because a couple deal with me directly).

• SF has a new mind meld, and I was asked to share. This one is about the influence of an author’s personal views and if it has any impact on the enjoyment of reading and such. It’s a subject I’ve blogged about before, so I suppose I was an obvious choice. Of course, I’m up with some big names with a number of authors, editors, TV executives, and other bloggers.

• A new ask the bloggers is up over at Grasping for the Wind – this one about maps in books. I hope I can find time for the next question dealing with cover art.

• A video about mutant butterflies with glow in the dark eyes – for real.

• FantasyBookSpot has re-launched in a new and improved format, and now is known as BookSpot Central – though the old name and links will get you there too.

Review: Return of the Crimson Guard by Ian C. Esslemont

Steven Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen is arguably the most exciting on-going series in epic fantasy. Less known is that Erikson had help when creating the Malazan world from his long-time friend Ian C. Esslemont. As co-creator, Esslemont has his own tales to tell, related to yet somewhat apart from Erikson’s main series. His first entry in the Malazan world was Night of Knives (US, UK, Canada), the tale of one night in Malaz and one of the most exciting convergences of power we’ve seen yet. Return of the Crimson Guard (US, UK, Canada) is Esslemont’s second entry, falling in the time between Erikson’s seventh and eighth books – Reaper’s Gale (US, UK, Canada) and Toll the Hounds (US, UK, Canada), respectively.

Due in part to overextension, the Malazan Empire fades from the glory of its founders in the hands of the current empress, Laseen. The continent of its governmental seat and one the empire’s earliest conquests, Quon Tali, rises in rebellion, largely led by surviving ‘Old Guard’, long-lived, legendary leaders from the empire prior to Laseen’s rule. At the same time, the empire’s sworn enemy, the Crimson Guard, returns with visions of complete and total destruction of the empire while suffering internal conflict about the true goals of the invasion.

As readers have come to expect in the world of Malazan, Return of the Crimson Guard weighs in with a hefty page count and numerous plot lines that converge in a final battle. New characters are introduced, old characters revisited, and some of the whispered and rumored come to life.

Comparison to Erikson is inevitable for Esslemont, and the simple truth is that Esslemont still has a long way to go. Night of Knives was clearly the work of a first-time author and Return of the Crimson Guard is only an adequate sophomore effort. The brilliance of Erikson is his ability to tell a kick-ass story while interweaving powerful thematic elements. His use of the soldier and their equivalents as an everyman/everywoman entwined with dark, gallows humor makes equally entertains and inspires. Esslemont has gotten quite good at the story telling part, but lacks the depth that makes for great writing. Essentially lacking thematic elements, the feel of an everyman/everywoman, and that wonderful gallows humor of Erikson is nowhere to be found. On top of this, Esslemont often suffers with trying too hard, particularly with vocabulary. Especially early on, he utilizes unnecessarily big and obscure wording, often at odds with the point of view of the character at hand. Whether the attempt was to create the all important atmosphere of a fantasy world separate from our own or if he was just showing off a bit, it was an annoyance.

In the Malazan world, characterization ranges widely and inspires much discussion. I have always felt Erikson can do wonders for characterization with just a few words while Esslemont is still a bit awkward. He clearly knows the relevant facts about his characters, but only rarely does more come out – I’m left feeling that most of his characters are little more than note cards – a face, name, nationality, general age, with important actions. Unfortunately only a few really stand out as fully realized characters.

Another aspect of Return of the Crimson Guard that annoyed at times happens when Esslemont crosses the line of mysteriousness to a seemingly obtuse refusal to provide the relevant information – of course Erikson is equally guilty of this at times, but generally handles it better. I know that this is par for the course in the Malazan world, but really now it’s just become annoying (I was tempted to use the word infuriating, but backed off).

Return of the Crimson Guard is Esslemont’s second entry in the Malazan canon, bringing the total to 10 books and 3 novellas between Erikson and Esslemont, with many more to come. In spite of all the issues I mention above, the story that Esslemont tells is an excellent addition that becomes completely enthralling by the end – I read the final 300 pages in one sitting. Esslemont still has some growing ahead to become a polished writer and is not yet in the same field as Erikson, but I suspect fans of Malazan won’t be disappointed by Return of the Crimson Guard. Remember, I’m an affirmed fanboy when it comes to these books, so my ultimate enjoyment of this book exceeds its overall quality. 7/10

Related Posts: Interview with Steven Erikson, Toll the Hounds Review, Reaper's Gale review, The Bonehunters review, The Lees of Laughter's End review

Review: The Man on the Ceiling by Steve Rasnic Tem & Melanie Tem

The Man on the Ceiling (US, UK, Canada) is the re-imagined and expanded version of the novella of the same name that won the Bram Stoker Award, International Horror Guild Award, and the World Fantasy Award, the only work to ever win all three. With such a pedigree I’ve been looking forward to this one for a while, only to find disappointment as the unexpected lingering reaction.

This loose mosaic tells the near-autobiographical story of the Tem’s family, at times sad, tragic, and heart-wrenching, yet always hopeful. The madness in their method brings forth an often horrific life to the text – these tag-teamed stories cross back and forth from a world of magical realism to surreal, playing with reality to reveal the truth.

As shown in The Man on the Ceiling, the Tem’s lead an extraordinary life – they adopt troubled and abused children, raising and loving them as their own. The exploration of their past, and their lives with their children and all the fears of life lies at the heart of this mosaic. A year ago I would have reacted very differently to this book, but now I have entered the world of parenthood. Part of the Tem’s journey that is shared deals with the death of a child. In the past I would have found this appropriately tragic, but not having children, I would not have had a true connection and relation to such a tragedy. As a parent nothing causes more dread than the even the thought of a child dying, much less my own. It’s this aspect of the book that affected me most.

In many books the reader can’t help but wonder home much is taken from an author’s own life. The Man on the Ceiling repeatedly emphasizes that ‘everything we tell you is true’. With this statement a line is crossed, the world of fiction blends into the intimate lives of the authors. So assured of the autobiographical elements, I eventually found myself questioning that very ascertain of truth – have the Tem’s turned a common reaction upside down?

Literary – the word comes with baggage in the genre world, yet literary describes The Man on the Ceiling well. Through the exploration of the Tem’s lives universal fears and conditions are revealed strait out of the American heartland. Plot is fluid, unfocused, even nonexistent. Reality twists, turns, and climbs on the ceiling to reveal truth. Such an exploration won’t appeal to all – in fact, it didn’t exactly appeal to me. As powerful as the Tem’s story is, it feels as if it pulls up short, not going the full length it could and should have. I expected a powerful affect on me that would linger for days and even weeks after finishing the book – not only is this affect absent, but the book is already fading away to obscurity. Combined with this not being my usual reading fare and the lack of that final, expected punch, I’m left with luke-warm (at best) feelings for the book. 6/10

A Few Links for My Boredom as much as Yours

The title says it all – I’m not motivated to ‘real’ work, so I figure I link a few things that I’ve found interesting in the last week or so.

• SF Signal has another Mind Meld – this time discussing what people would change about SF if they could. A reaction from Andrew Wheeler proves the more interesting read.

• Hi, my name is Jim C. Hines and I’m prejudiced against media tie-in books.

• Grasping for the Wind asks bloggers what they think is behind the popularity of urban fantasy – a question I found to be very interesting. My response seems to stray a bit from the others.

• Watch a video about the mysteries of lightening – cool stuff!

• A volcanic eruption in Alaska may be releasing enough sulfur dioxide gas to cool the global climate for a year or two.

John Scalzi Answers Questions Five

John Scalzi has quickly risen to become one of the most popular science fiction writers out there right now. This has lead to nomination for several high-profile awards, including wins for the John C. Campbell Award and most recently, the Hugo for Best Fan Writer – he missed winning Best Novel for The Last Colony (US, UK, Canada) by less than 10 votes. He is best known for his series of books that starts with Old Man’s War (US, UK, Canada), with his latest, Zoë’s Tale (US, UK, Canada, my review), a stand-alone set within the Old Man’s War universe. However, Scalzi is possibly even better known for his blogging at Whatever, which he has been doing since 1998.

I thank John for taking the time to participate in Questions Five.


YA – Why or why not?

JS: Seriously? I think getting kids to enjoy reading is a pretty necessary step, and also essential for genre, which lives or dies on its ability to hook readers on its product before they're old enough to be convinced by a bunch of illiterate teenage popularity mongers that reading genre isn't cool. So we really need to lay the table for young readers. Not every SF/F writer can or should write YA, but we need to make sure that those who do write YA in SF/F are really good writers.

What advice do you have to give to men in their late 30s pretending to be teenage girls?

JS: Trying to hang around actual teenage girls (say, in the mall), will get arrested and/or having you collect those delightful documents known as restraining orders. Instead, rely on those women you know who are closer to your age, and have them use their own memories of being a teenager to check your character voice. No restraining orders or arrests (unless, you know, you're just that sort of loser), and your own level of self esteem will be considerably higher, because unlike teenage girls, these female friends of yours will not look at you with an expression of vague disgust.

Fill in the blank: Kids today just don’t appreciate the value of ___. How does Zoë’s Tale reflect this?

JS: Kids these days don't appreciate the value of my mortgage, and Zoë’s Tale gives them an opportunity to correct this by sending me money. Hopefully, many of them shall do just that.

More seriously, I'm pretty sure kids today have the same level of appreciation for the value of (x) as they did in my day, which is, not much unless it's directly some aspect of their lives that they need to focus on RIGHT NOW. Being a teenager is an inherently selfish process, because being a teenager is about defining one's self. You stop being a teenager (or more accurately an adolescent) when you start seeing others and their needs on the same level of consideration as you see yourself and your needs.

Why should Zoë’s Tale be the next book that everyone reads?

JS: It doesn't have to be; I'd be happy with it simply being the next book everyone buys (and then, you know, reads at their leisure). But I do hope they read it because I'm very happy with the character of Zoë; I think in fact that she's one of the best characters I've ever written. Also, the title really does reflect the book -- it really is her story, and how, to go back to a previous question, she moves out of adolescence and toward adulthood. Plus, there's snarky dialogue, and how can you not like that.

What peculiar qualities of Ragamuffin should readers be aware of?*

JS: They should be aware that this Nebula-nominated tale of action and adventure is fully and comprehensively made of win. Is this a peculiar quality? Well, as one of only five novels nominated for the Nebula last year, it is certainly rare, at the very least.

*Astute readers will quickly realize that Ragamuffin (US, UK, Canada) was written by Tobias Buckell and not John Scalzi. This is a rather embarrassing error on my part and clear example of the trouble cutting and pasting can get you into when you don’t take the time to review. Thankfully, John was a real sport about it and we agreed to leave it as is since pimping Toby is fine thing in and of itself. It is worth mentioning that the same day Zoë’s Tale is released (August 19, 2008), Sly Mongoose (US, UK, Canada) by Tobias Buckell is also being released. Since both authors live in Ohio, some people have begun referring to August 19, 2008 as “Ohio is Coming To Kick Your Ass With Science Fiction” Day – originally declared (of course) by John Scalzi.

Zoe's Tale by John Scalzi

I posted my review of Zoe's Tale by John Scalzi (US, UK, Canada) over at FantasyBookSpot. I have to say that this one is Scalzi's best book yet and I really enjoyed it. Hopefully I'll be getting a Questions Five interview within him soon.

Review excerpt:

Zoë’s Tale is far and away Scalzi’s best book yet. The voice of a teenage girl is always tricky, yet Scalzi, a male in his upper-30s, manages to get it rather right. Zoë is just as snarky, inconsistent, short on judgment, emotional, and remarkable as any teenager can be. She really comes alive through Scalzi’s witty dialogue and uncertain internal discourse – it’s very easy to imagine Scalzi channeling his pride of his own young daughter into Zoë, and I get the feeling that his daughter is his number one audience. (full review)

Links to Waste Time With

My (un)usual round-up of links that have kept me interested in the last week or so.

• The Hugo Awards were announced on Saturday. The biggest surprise to me is that they weren’t so horrible in their choices – I am especially happy that John Scalzi unseated Dave Langford for best fan writer. There is always interesting discussion on the results – and I find the Westeros discussion of most interest, as usual. I found this post by Patrick Nielsen Hayden very interesting as it indicates the ‘age-ist’ voting tendencies of both the Hugos and Nebulas – younger authors need not get their hopes up. I've written of my opinion of SFF Awards before and I see no reason to change that opinion.

• John at Grasping for the Wind has a new Ask the Bloggers series going on – of course I’m interested.

• This was getting a lot of attention for a while, but I’m happy it’s fading away.

• The World Fantasy Award short-list was announced – I find this award to be the most interesting of the various SFF awards, though I haven’t read a single one of these – heck, I haven’t heard of most of them.

• And for the random geo-related links: One of the more magnificent arches in Arches National Park collapsed last week. Alaska has quite a few volcanic eruptions at the moment, with one causing havoc with airline schedules.
  
  
  

Review: Lord Tophet by Gregory Frost

Stories within stories, layers on top of layers, bridges spanning a world and a journey alike, and players dance to the whims of a shadowy puppeteer – this is the Shadowbridge (US, UK, Canada) Duology by Gregory Frost and Lord Tophet (US, UK, Canada) the conclusion.

Like Shadowbridge, Lord Tophet is but one half to a whole – in other words, read Shadowbridge first. Events pick up immediately after the cliffhanger ending of Shadowbridge and the various mysteries introduced in Shadowbridge are explained – Leodora’s dealings with the gods, Soder’s past and what he is hiding about her parents, the coral man, and others. In fact, by the end of the novel everything is wrapped up rather neatly with a pleasing ending for a book about stories.

The stories within stories structure beautifully blends with the overall narrative and becomes less about the tales told by Leodora and more about stories of Leodora – her family, her past, her journey, and the mysteries that follow her. The moralistic lessons of her fables both mirror and anticipate those of Leodora’s own life as she grows into herself, learning her own heart and desires while realizing her role in the coming conflict with Lord Tophet. These economic, poetic and ultimately pleasant stories make Lord Tophet a joy to read.

The characterization suffers a bit in comparison to the stories, but in a way that fits. The characters seem like caricatures at times, characters in a play (or a story) and not real people. This feels intentional to me and it fits so well with the stories within stories structure and overall sense that these characters are all shadow puppets in Frost’s capable hands.

Shadowbridge and Lord Tophet evoke conflicting reactions in within me. Surficially, I love to see fantasy novels that don’t function well as doorstops – Shadowbridge weighs in at a mere 272 pages and Lord Tophet even shorter at 222. Another part of me then wonders why they couldn’t be published as a single volume – is this just a grab for more money? This is particularly grating with the cliffhanger ending of Shadowbridge.

However, Frost contends that these two novels were conceived as separate works, and after reading Lord Tophet this becomes clear. The thematic heart of these two novels is strikingly different – Shadowbridge is the beginning, the journey, a bridge at so many levels. Lord Tophet concludes – a tale of consequences, love and betrayal with all dancing to the predestined strings of a shadow puppeteer.

In my review of Shadowbridge, I said that its ultimate success would depend on the conclusion in Lord Tophet. The conclusion offered leaves me drifting somewhat aimlessly, making this pair of reviews some of the most difficult reviews I’ve written. The conclusion works – it even works well, but does it live up to its potential? The potential of the Shadowbridge/Lord Tophet duology was huge, and these could have been memorable, timeless works – the stuff classics are made of. Simply said, this potential is unrealized – these books are great and should be talked about, but the climatic moments lacked that extra punch needed to attain true greatness. The conclusion was ultimately expected, and while it was heartfelt – it needed to be heart-wrenching. This is disappointing since unrealized potential often tastes bitter even when compared to lesser works lacking potential. However, the Epilogue is the sweet refrain for the bitter climax and ends the book with a fitting upswing.

The Shadowbridge/Lord Tophet duology is a beautiful read and stylistic wonder with the weaving of stories within stories and the resulting thematic tapestry – the work of a true craftsman. Even with unrealized potential, these books stand apart and above much of the ‘standard’ fantasy offered and easily earn a label of literary fantasy. The world of Shadowbridge is rich with stories waiting to be told and I look forward to Frost answering that call. 7.5-8/10

Orson Scott Card - Terrorist?

Orson Scott Card has a history of writing pretty hateful things - here is the latest example, where he literaly calls for an overthrow of the government of the US if gay marriage is legalized (does this make him a terrorist?).

This blog post at SF Diplomat points out the long history of Card's hateful speak, and points to the Feminist SF Blog reaction (I highly recommend reading this). There are plenty of other reactions around and I just don't have the time to search them all out.

Anyway, this is just another example of why I choose not to support OSC in anyway I know of. It makes you wonder what other SFF authors out there think this way - particularly those among the Mormon faith.

Link Menudo

A few things that have been of interest to me this week:

• Gabe is at it again with his always interesting Monday Meanderings at Mysterious Outposts. He’s gotten lots of attention from his post about bloggers getting paid – though most of the discussion I’ve seen misses the more interesting aspects of his post, which I felt I addressed in the comments (of course this could be due in part to my own choice in title of the Westeros post). What’s more interesting is that the narcissism of bloggers seems to be overlooking the more interesting post he made yesterday.

• Stephen Hunt of SF Crowsnest starts a SFF social networking site – Hive Mind. I signed up, and right now it looks to have potential, but I think it’s a got a ways to go before it stands out.

• A moderate earthquake shakes LA…it makes me remember fondly when I felt my first earthquake east of LA a few years ago (yes, I’m a weird geologist like that).

• I’m really enjoying the Eruptions Blog and the realization of just how many volcanic eruptions are occurring around the world at any given time. Montserrat had another big one.
  

EDIT: I totally forgot to mention that Acacia (my review) by David Anthony Durham has been picked up for a movie. I generally don't like crossovers, but congratulations, I'll certainly see it.

A Voice from the Past

A relatively new podcast that I discovered from the exhaustive genre round-ups provided by Matt Staggs has a new episode featuring a past interview with Robert Jordan. Reality Break has its origins in the 1990s when it was a syndicated radio broadcast for NPR and has reinvented itself as a podcast with both new and old content.

The 30-minute interview with Robert Jordan was conducted in 1994 as he was touring for the release of Lord of Chaos, the 6th book of the Wheel of Time. Incidentally, this is about the time I began reading the Wheel of Time which eventually lead to my love of genre and a presence on the internet (I was still a few years from the step to the internet at that time). In the mythos of Wheel of Time this discussion would be considered non-spoiler (even then), and really is all the more interesting (and timeless) as a result.

I certainly recommend a listen.

Review: Mirrored Heavens by David J. Williams

The year is 2110 and the world a hellish reflection of today – global warming has wrecked everything, the environment has been all but destroyed with places like the Amazon nothing but a polluted wasteland, and humanity has endured and multiplied. The US has evolved into a near-fascist state controlling the Western Hemisphere; a Russo-Chinese government dominates the east, with a neutral Europe in the middle. A fragile peace emerges after a long cold war and an unknown terrorist organization strikes at the heart of the world order.

Mirrored Heavens (US, UK, Canada) tells its story through the eyes of the soldier-agents of David J. Williams’ world – following three arcs to the conclusion. Each arc generally focuses on a pair of individuals, each similar with a high-tech agent (razor) working with a high-talent physical force (mech). The razor hacks into the cyber-world known as the zone and the mech blows things up. Each pair follows a mission of sorts, fights for survival and understanding, leaving a staggering body count in their wake.

Williams’ take on a post-cyberpunk military sci-fi presents an interesting perspective – near enough in the future to be relative, far enough to be a shadow of what we know today. The political and environmental realities represent today’s worst-case scenarios and the world is decidedly not a better place. But, Williams doesn’t get far into it – this is the Hollywood-video game version, all action, all octane, and things blow up. Depth is hinted, but not realized; characters created, but who can trust those creations when their very memories were probably invented by those in charge to fit the circumstances necessary. Trust no one, believe nothing, and carry a big stick. It’s a strange combination of left-leaning ideas, right-leaning violent response, terrorism, and government betrayal and corruption.

Utilizing this made-for-Hollywood script of all action and little depth, Williams manages to sneak in some interesting ideas with a subtle (and exaggerated) allegory to 9-11 and various reactions, with a seeming nod towards conspiracy theories. While I would have loved to see this aspect further explored, it certainly wouldn’t fit well with rough ‘em up, shoot ‘em up approach taken.

The prose is serviceable, the characterization adequate (at best) and the action nonstop. In fact there is so much action, and detailed description of it, I became somewhat desensitized to it – which is big word for bored. While the plot was fun and interesting (and has a few good twists along the way), the all-out focus on action assaulted me to the point of not caring. I could easily put the book aside and not pick it up for ages – in stead of being an addicting page-turner, it often found use as a coaster.

David J. Williams’ debut novel hits the ground running and never slows down. The cover blurbs speak true and untrue – they praise the action and vision of the future, but calling this a next-generation Neuromancer (US, UK, Canada) goes too far. Mirrored Heavens should especially appeal to a younger audience addicted to Hollywood and video games and its marriage of military sci-fi and a post-cyberpunk world. In the end Mirrored Heavens is a forgettable book that may be a fun way to pass the time for those who need a break from gaming and their home theatres. 5.5-6/10