Book Review: The Rebellion’s Last Traitor by Nik Korpon
Once upon a time, the Morrigan brothers formed a group called Tathadann to make Eitan City a refuge from the Resource Wars that were killing the planet. But then one of them betrayed the other, and the Tathadann became dictators. Now it was their turn to be the establishment that young Henraek and Walleus rebelled against. The Struggle had some victories, but eventually Walleus defected. In his rage, Henraek started a riot in which his wife and child died.
Now Henraek is a shell of his former self, drafted into stealing memories from political targets for the Tathadann (and selling the ones they don’t need on the black market. His new lover’s an artist, and may still be actively working with the Struggle. Walleus is an intelligence operative for the city’s bosses, though not as well treated as once he was. His ambitious underling Grieg is incompetent at the actual job, but might be better at backstabbing.
Then Henraek comes across a memory of his wife that suggests she wasn’t killed in a riot at all. He starts investigating, despite Walleus warning him off. Walleus does, after all, care about his old friend…and has secrets he must keep at any cost.
This is a book about people who have been betrayed and are betraying; almost everyone has secrets they’d rather other people didn’t know. The setting seems to be a future Ireland, but is vague enough that it might not be. The landscape and environment have been permanently altered by the Resource Wars, and there’s been mass memory tampering.
If we presume that it’s Ireland, then the Struggle seems to evoke the Troubles and the terrorism and oppression of those dark times. I am not expert on the subject, so cannot say how respectful this story is to that inspiration. The social divide is more political than religious (people who support the ruling party live in a nicer part of town and have some luxuries; people the ruling party don’t like can’t even get clean water.)
Neither of the main characters is likable; Henraek is resentment and revenge-driven almost 24/7, while Walleus is more calculated but just as self-centered. Some of the other characters come off a bit better, but we are talking terrorists and the secret police (who are pretty similar.)
As might be expected, there’s a lot of violence and some rough language.
The writing is okay, but not gripping and I have no interest in following the further story of the surviving characters.
Book Review: Minnesota Vice by Ellen & Mary Kuhfeld
As I have mentioned before, Minnesota has many fine mystery and crime writers. Mary Kuhfeld is probably best known under the pen name Monica Ferris, under which she has written nineteen Betsy Devonshire Needlework Mysteries. (Thus the subtitle “Monica Ferris Presents” for these self-published books.) Ellen Kuhfeld is also an experienced mystery writer, and they collaborated on several stories for Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine in the 1980s.
Of the ten stories in this collection, the first six are collaborations, and the first four are set in Hedeby, Minnesota, a largish town in the fictitious Hedeby County. The police detective team of Jack Hafner and Thor Nygaard is introduced in “An Ill Wind.” A sudden blizzard snows in the town, making Hafner and Nygaard the only officers able to respond to a report of murder. With all the outdoor clues buried under new-fallen snow, how will the detectives figure out which of the obvious suspects is guilty?
“Allergic to Death” takes place in a warmer season, as a man with lethal allergies apparently decides to take a walk in a pollen-laden garden. Simple enough, but one of the relatives insists on a cremation before an autopsy can be ordered. Honoring the wishes of the deceased, or covering up something more sinister?
“The Scales of Justice” concerns a traveling salesman who gets caught cheating at poker. Since the game itself was unlawful, the man can’t be arrested. Nygaard decides to treat the fellow to some traditional Norwegian hospitality. This story will be funnier if you’re familiar with Norwegian-American customs.
In “Night Light”, there’s a UFO, leading to suspicions that a murder and disappearance may have alien involvement. This is Hafner and Nygaard’s toughest case yet!
“Timely Psychiatric Intervention” features a government think tank that actually has a counselor handy to head off any of their scientists going mad. But the nature of McCain’s project may make Dr. Bach’s repeated attempts to help him moot.
In “A Specialist in Dragons”, Baron Halfdan’s daughter has been abducted by a dragon. He seeks the help of his local wizard, Wulfstan. Unfortunately, Wulfstan’s not up to the task of tracking a dragon, and a series of increasingly expensive specialists needs to be called in. Can Halla be rescued before the Baron runs out of gold?
The next four stories are solo efforts by Ellen Kuhfeld. “The Old Shell Game” concerns a museum curator that notices a valuable fossil has gone missing. It’s not anywhere on the grounds, but it’s impossible for this large item to have left the premises without being seen. How did it vanish?
“Thorolf and the Peacock” stars a Viking merchant (who is also the star of Ellen Kuhfeld’s book, Secret Murder) who is insulted by a flamboyant trader. Thorolf decides to treat the fellow to some traditional Norwegian hospitality. (In a slightly different manner than in “The Scales of Justice.”)
The next two stories were printed in speculative fiction magazines in the 2000s. “Dances with Werewolves” has the investigative team of Scott & Scott hired to determine if a man’s new girlfriend is a Were. This one contains a twist genre-savvy readers will spot quickly.
“Cycles of Violence” is a sequel to that tale, in which Bjorn the bartender must deal with a Wendigo invasion. It’s easier to do that when you’re a werebear!
The bane of self-published works, there are a few typos, including an error in the table of contents.
As a hodgepodge of previously un-reprinted stories, this volume may not satisfy mystery purists (even though most of them were printed in a mystery genre magazine.) That said, these are fun stories of which I liked “Allergic to Death” best. I felt “Dances with Werewolves” was the weakest, probably because I spotted the twist far too early.
Recommended to Minnesotans (especially mystery fans) and fans of the Monica Ferris books.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the authors to facilitate this review. No other compensation was requested or offered.
Book Review: The Mida by Lyle Ernst & Kimberly Sigafus
Tony was little when his parents died and left him in the care of his grandmother Nola. She tried the best she could to raise him in the tiny community of Farmingdale, Iowa, but it’s 1952 now and he’s a grown man. Tony’s made some bad life choices which are about to come back and bite him, as he’s accused of murdering his ex-girlfriend. As if that wasn’t stressful enough, it turns out his mother isn’t dead after all, and she and the carnival she manages just appeared in town.
The Mida, as it happens, is no ordinary carnival. For one thing, it’s a “Sunday school”, which means no rigged games or other cheats. More relevantly to the plot of this story, the carnival is mystic in nature, traveling through time and place to where it needs to be. A number of the carnies have special abilities ranging from eidetic memory to being “a Wiccan goddess” granted by their employment. Mesa, the manager, knows that the Mida has arrived in 1952 Iowa for Tony, but is reluctant to face the son she abandoned all those years ago. Especially as the carnival is being stalked by the dark spirit Jiibay, who has finally caught up to them.
This is the first of three (so far) fantasy books about the Mida. Ojibwa lore is woven into the narrative, but is not the main thing going on. For most of the book, the non-supernatural murders are the focus plotline. It’s not much of a mystery for the reader as the story has multiple viewpoint characters, including the murderer.
Good stuff: a fairly diverse cast, not all of whom are the stereotypes they first appear to be from one viewpoint. A fairly sensible and intelligent sheriff, who gets to be useful even though this is a fantasy book.
Not so good: Little to nothing is done with the time travel aspect of the plot. Most of the carnies probably wouldn’t take advantage of future knowledge for profit because of their personal morality or lack of solid opportunities, but there’s no mention by anyone of changes in technology or customs. Conveniently, Mesa has aged enough in her travels so that no one doubts she’s the right age to be Tony’s mother. Other than some mention of contemporary baseball players, there’s almost nothing that makes the setting feel like the early 1950s as opposed to any post World War Two but pre-21st Century rural town.
There are eight main carnies who form a “circle” although this is apparently the first most of them have known that; all get at least a little development. But then there are thirteen Gatekeepers who also work at the carnival and that the Eight aren’t supposed to know about as they are the guardians of the Eight. Most of them don’t even get named, let alone individual attention. And presumably there are even more carnies that aren’t in either of those groups. With all these people and the townsfolk, the book is jam-packed and some characters just get lost in the shuffle.
There’s some brief transphobia, but oddly enough no anti-Native American prejudice is ever brought up. Abuse is in some characters’ backstory, and some of the carnies have been criminals in the past.
This is very obviously a first novel and self-published (a few spellchecker typos); later books in the series may show improvement.
Recommended to people who like weird carnival-set stories.
Commander Samuel Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch, Duke of Ankh-Morpork and Blackboard Monitor, has been aware in a general way that his wife Sybil owns some property in the countryside. But now that their son Young Sam is six, Sybil has decided that it’s high time that the family take a holiday to visit the ancestral manor. And she’s somehow convinced Sam’s boss, Lord Vetinari, to sign off on this.
So Sam Vimes finds himself on vacation for the first time in ever, stranded far from the smell and sounds of the city he knows so well, and at a loss how to handle himself in a rural area where he’s not got jurisdiction as a cop. But as Sherlock Holmes remarked in “The Copper Beeches”, the countryside is not free from vile sin. When Vimes discovers that there’s been a murder on his land and the oppressed cry out for justice, he’s willing to bend the definition of jurisdiction to bring the villains to heel.
This is one of the last Discworld books (only two after this one) and the last of the City Watch sub-series. While Vimes is front and center for most of the story, we do check in with many of the other continuing characters for at least a sentence. (This is one of the few Discworld books to miss out Death as a character, but that does not mean that no one dies.)
Over the course of the series, Ankh-Morpork has advanced from a parody of generic sword-and-sorcery cities that happened to share some geographical features with London to more or less a fantasy version of Victorian London–and most of this progress has happened within Sam Vimes’ lifetime. Indeed, Vimes can be said to have facilitated much of this by his dedication to law enforcement that does what is right rather than what is convenient. Another running theme of the books has been that people are people, regardless of their shape, odd customs or biological weirdness. Dwarves and trolls and even vampires have become people, with all the rights and responsibilities that come with that description. And now it is the turn of the goblins.
Goblins are the lowest of the low, considered filthy creatures with no visible culture, and treated as vermin. Enslaving them, taking their sacred objects, killing them–none of these are considered crimes by the majority of people or the written law. But Commander Vimes’ previous experiences give him some unique ways of seeing the “humanity” of goblins.
And while his efforts do yield results, Sam Vimes would not be able to fully achieve the goal of bringing goblins under the protection of the law without the aid of his socially-connected wife, an author who has her own insights into goblin culture, and several goblins who step out of their stereotype to show their worth. (Although there is some question whether Stinky is really a goblin…or something more.)
Much of the “humor” this time revolves around bodily excretions, as Young Sam has discovered the scientific wonders of poo. For those of us not keen on toilet gags, this gets a bit tiresome. There’s also a fair amount of swearing, and a discussion of “the dreadful algebra” of what to do with an infant that’s been born in a time of famine. And not all sins are forgiven.
The general quality of the writing is excellent as always, but Sir Terry’s sentimental side perhaps overwhelms the sharper edge of social satire, particularly in the ending.
Recommended to Discworld fans; newbies should probably start with Guards! Guards! which is the first of the Watch sub-series.
Comic Book Review: Super Hero Happy Hour Volume 1 written by Dan Taylor, art by Chris Fason
At the end of the day, many superheroes are still mostly human, and some of them could use a drink to relax with, and some conversation with other people who understand their issues. In First City, those heroes go to the Hideout Bar and Grill.
This small press series is set in that bar, and this volume reprints the first four issues. The first story is mostly Seinfeldian banter, while the second is about Ladies’ Night. The third issue introduces a new hero to First City, and leads into a bar brawl with supervillains in the fourth.
Most of the characters fall into identifiable archetypes; Night Ranger and Scout are more or less Batman and Robin, Guardian owes a lot to the Hal Jordan Green Lantern, and so forth. We find out much more about these characters in the dossiers printed as an extra in the back of the book–including the back story of the bartender, only hinted at in the fourth issue.
This was a first professional effort from both creators, and it really shows with clumsy dialogue, thin characterization and crude art in the first issue. By the fourth story, they’re much improved, but still with a long way to go.
There’s some comic-book violence, of course, and discussion of sexism in the second story. Practitioners of voudoun are likely to be unhappy that once again, voodoo is simplified down to a guy summoning zombies.
This is okay for a small press comic, but no great shakes. It might become a collectors’ item if either of the creators hits it big in the future.
Book Review: From Ghouls to Gangsters: The Career of Arthur B. Reeve Volume 1 edited by John Locke
Arthur B. Reeve (1880-1936) was a newspaper reporter who decided to try his hand at writing fiction. As it happened, he turned out to be very good at it, making a huge hit with his most famous character, scientific detective Craig Kennedy. He became America’s most popular detective story writer from 1910-1920, and continued to do pretty well thereafter (despite a bankruptcy when a man who’d commissioned a bunch of work failed to pay) until his death. Mr. Reeve also worked on films and radio, and did true crime reporting as well.
This first volume is a collection of short stories; the second volume has non-fiction by and about Mr. Reeve. The first story appears to be his first sale, “The Cat that Didn’t Come Back” (1907), a gruesome but comedic tale of a man attempting to dispose of a cat’s corpse. The majority of stories are about Craig Kennedy, a professor of chemistry who decides to use his knowledge of science to solve crimes. He’s assisted by newspaper reporter Walter Jameson, the Watson-like narrator.
We begin with the 1910 story “The Case of Helen Bond.” A man has died of a heart attack, but the fact that his safe was burgled the same night casts a suspicion of foul play. Mr. Kennedy uses a primitive type of lie detector (and his brain) to crack the case. The professor owes a great deal to Sherlock Holmes, but is considerably less eccentric. In the Holmes tradition, the reader is not given all the clues, but must wait for Mr. Kennedy to sum up the case and how the science plays in.
That story was published in Cosmopolitan, but Kennedy stories appeared in many places, including Boys’ Life (which introduced a young nephew for him) and Country Gentleman. By the 1930s, Mr. Reeve’s stories mostly appeared in the detective pulps, and took on a more “gangbusters” feel. He was also beginning to reuse plot beats from earlier, out of print stories.
The science in some of the stories is a bit dated, particularly the case that’s solved by Freudian dream analysis. As well, period ethnic prejudice pops up from time to time. Mr. Reeve appears to have been progressive in his views of women for 1910, but some bits look odd from a modern perspective.
Mr. Reeve wrote several stories with female protagonists as detectives, including medical Dr. Mary Mannix and “secret agent” Clare Kendall. One of the latter’s stories closes out the volume, “The Royal Racket” (1935). Clare helps identify two corpses, and is then asked to advise a young couple that suspects some of their new social crowd might be less than honest. The two cases are of course connected.
The Boys’ Life story “The Polar Flight of the ZR-10” (1924) is notable for not being so much a mystery as a speculative fiction story. The title dirigible is being used to test a transpolar flight route between America and Europe, and finds a long-lost colony of Vikings. The mystery subplot arises from a “beat the Reds” race that feels more 1950s than 1920s.
Overall, the stories are good, if mostly dated, and demonstrate Mr. Reeve’s ability to write to a specific magazine’s intended audience. Most of the earlier stories were heavily edited for book publication to make them pseudo-novels, and the later ones have never been reprinted before, which makes this a good collector’s item for detective story fans.
Magazine Review: Analog Science Fiction and Fact June 2015 edited by Trevor Quachri
Since its debut issue as Astounding Stories of Super-Science in January 1930, what would become Analog was one of the most influential, and often the most influential, science fiction magazines on the racks. After I reviewed Analog 1 (a collection of stories from when the magazine made its main name change in 1960) last week, I was informed that this month’s issue was in fact the 1000th issue, the longest run of any science fiction magazine and a respectable milestone for any publication. (It has skipped a number of months over the years, or April 2013 would have been the lucky number.)
If the cover by Victoria Green looks a bit odd, it’s because it’s a “remix” of the very first cover (illustrating the story “The Beetle Horde” by Victor Rousseau and painted by H.W. Wessolowski) with the genders reversed. The editorial speaks about that first story (and the issue is available to read at Project Gutenberg!)
Former editors also get to pen a few words. Stanley Schmidt talks about there always being new futures for science fiction writers to write about–no matter how many milestones are passed, there will be more to come. Ben Bova writes of John W. Campbell and his influence on the field of science fiction (generally positive.)
Naturally, there is some fiction in this issue, beginning with “The Wormhole War” by Richard A. Lovett. An attempt to send a wormhole to allow humans to travel to an Earth-like world in a distant star system ends disastrously. Follow-up wormholes end equally badly, but much closer to home. It dawns on the scientists that someone else is making wormholes, and they might not be too happy with us. It’s a serviceable enough story.
“Very Long Conversations” by Gwendolyn Clare features exobiologist Becca and her alien partner Shurza helping with an archaeological dig that is developing some unusual results. Possibly the vanished natives haven’t actually vanished–but then, where are they? This story appears to be part of a series, and refers back to earlier events. (One of the letters to the editor in this issue praises that another series story got a “previously on” section, but this one didn’t.)
“The Kroc War” by Ted Reynolds and William F. Wu is a tale of a human/alien war told in brief reminiscences by the participants. It is a condensed version of many war-related themes, such as the home government not living up to the principles its soldiers are supposedly fighting for, and the ending twist is not surprising if you think about it.
“Strategies for Optimizing Your Mobile Advertising” by Brenta Blevins may be titled like a business blog, but is actually about an artist taking on a strenuous job because their art doesn’t pay well. A crisis arises when his shirt stops working. Amusing.
“The Odds” by Rod Collins is a rare second-person story, with a narrator emphasizing just how unlikely the scenario “you” find yourself in is. It’s short, and describing the plot would give away the twist, so I’ll just say that it’s chilling.
“The Empathy Vaccine” by C.C. Finlay has a misleading title, as one of the characters admits. The protagonist is visiting a doctor to be rid of his capacity for empathy, and doesn’t think through the implications to their logical conclusion. Perhaps it is because his empathy was already too low.
“Flight” by Mack Hassler is a short poem about kinds of flight. It’s okay, I guess. (Long-time readers know modern poetry isn’t my thing.)
“Three Bodies at Mitanni” by Seth Dickinson involves three people who have been assigned to evaluate human colonies sent into space millenia ago to see if they are a threat to humanity, and if so to destroy them. This is their final stop, and perhaps their hardest decision. Is preserving civilization as it exists worth losing the potential that this new direction offers? Disturbing.
“Ships in the Night” by Jay Werkheiser is a tale of a near-first encounter with aliens spun by a spacer to colonists in a local bar. Physicists may catch the twist in the story before the end.
“The Audience” by Sean McMullen rounds out the fiction with a tale of first contact gone horribly wrong. It turns out there’s another planet passing through the Oort cloud, one that’s inhabited. Unfortunately, the aliens aren’t the sort humans are ready to deal with, and it’s up to a storyteller to spin a yarn that will save the day.
One of the things I notice reading this issue as compared to even the 1960 stories in Analog 1 is diversity of protagonists. In the earlier stories, women are love interests and faithful assistants at best, and a non-WASP protagonist is something special that has to be justified. Now, women, people of various ethnicities, and more…unusual protagonists are able to appear with it being “no biggie.”
The fact article is “Really Big Tourism” by Michael Carroll, talking about the possibilities of the Solar System’s gas giants for tourist visits (once we lick the problem of getting there.)
“The Analog Millenium” by Mike Ashley gives us all the statistics we need about the magazine’s 1000 issues. There are a few surprises in here!
The usual departments of letters to the editor, book reviews (mostly psionics-based stories this month) and upcoming events are also present.
This issue is certainly worth picking up as a collector’s item, if nothing else. I liked “The Kroc War” and “The Empathy Vaccine” best of the stories. If you haven’t read science fiction in a long time, you might find the evolution of the genre interesting to consider.
Before L. Ron Hubbard got involved in…you know, he was a middling-good and prolific pulp author. The Golden Age Stories line is reprinting many of his stories in attractively designed paperbacks. This volume contains two short stories, , a preview of another, a glossary (really needed this time because of heavy circus slang) and a hagiography of Hubbard that does not mention…you know by name, just calling it “serious research.” Hee. It’s double-spaced in a largish typeface for easy reading.
The title story concerns a little person, “Little” Tom Little, who works as a circus midget, and then discovers a mystical method for bodyswapping with other people. He promptly decides to use this to swap with the tall, imposing ringmaster Hermann Schmidt. But Schmidt has troubles of his own, which could get Tom killed regardless of which body he’s in!
There’s a nice bit of foreshadowing early in the story, with what seems like random cruelty to Tom, but is actually a hint of what Schmidt’s issues are. The lion phobia, on the other hand, was a bit too telegraphed. The payoff to that is a very exciting scene, mitigating the obviousness. There’s a nice bit of ambiguity, too, in the motives of the Professor, who leaves Tom his books of magic.
The second story, “The Last Drop” is co-authored by the much better L. Sprague de Camp. A bartender foolishly creates a cocktail with some untested syrup from Borneo; growth and shrinking hijinks ensue. A fun story that at least waves at scientific plausibility as it goes by, in the form of the square-cube law. (The glossary explains it for the benefit of anyone who might have forgotten.)
While it’s a handsome package, and the stories are fun, the book is thin on content for the price. I’d recommend looking for used copies at a steep discount, or checking it out from the library.