Tag Archives: elves

Revenge of the Elf

Book Review of Revenge of the Elf (Nysta, #1), by Lucas Thorn

NystaIn June of 2012, I picked Lucas Thorn‘s fantasy novel, The Revenge of the Elf from the Amazon free list.

Description from Goodreads:
Nysta is a new kind of elf.

When nine killers rode out of the homestead with blood fresh on their hands, they reckoned that would be the end of it.

The lost spellslinger was looking for a way out. He figured Nysta could lead him to the safety of a town called Spikewrist. And then there was the tragic creature born in the darkest shadows of legend. He reckoned she would fight the greatest fight of all.

But none of them counted on the violence she would unleash. Because in the Deadlands there is no forgiveness. No mercy.

Winter in the Deadlands could be cold. But the revenge of an elf would be colder.

 Review:
I  went into this book with high hopes of a strong,  kick-ass female warrior. And I had reason to. The following is from the latter half of the Author’s Note:

Nysta is certainly the culmination of many years of dissatisfaction in the presentation of female characters in fantasy.

As such, Nysta will never heal anyone with amazing healing powers. She will never drink tea and discuss dresses. She will not stand back and watch her boyfriend fight the monster.

She will not be rescued by the hero, because in my book, she IS the hero.

And in some ways Nysta is bad-ass. She’s certainly skilled with a blade or two (dozen). But that’s not really the same thing as strong. I could excuse all the tears and even the way her thoughts are scattered one moment and obsessive the next; she’s grieving the loss of the love of her life, after-all. (And Talek seemed wonderful and worthy of her love.)

But the author fell into the same trite trap as many others when he made her a victim of sexual abuse and circumstantially forced prostitution as a child (starting as young as seven presumably). The book also starts with rape threats and whoring comes up frequently in conversation or insults. Nysta’s very ashamed of what she had to do to survive and when discussing this history is the only time in the book that she feels fragile. I swear authors, there really are other ways for women to become strong. But you would never know it from reading fiction. How very pat.

I wouldn’t even mention it, since it’s basically the norm. Except that Thorn made it apparent in the above note that he was aiming to break the pattern of women’s presentation in fantasy. Then why go with a plot device so overused as to have become cliché? Men don’t have to be victims before they can become strong. They don’t need that forging process and frankly neither did Nysta.

What’s more, Nysta’s presumed strength is of a very male sort. She can kill more people than the next guy therefore she must be strong. But I would argue that’s skill and something else entirely. Internal strength needs to based on something more and Nysta lacks that. To paraphrase Chukshene, she’s still just that scared little girl, servicing some minor noble on her knees in a dirty back alley.

So, I’ll give it half marks for my hope of a strong, kick-ass woman warrior. She’s kick-ass sure, but she didn’t strike me as strong in any sense but the muscular type. Disappointing, to say the least.

The book also has a cool cover. But again, being as Thorn apparently wants to widen women’s available and acceptable place in fantasy, I should ask why she’s half-naked. Especially considering the book is set in winter and she’s fully dressed in leather armour and a full length, fur-lined cape (mostly even with the hood up) for the entirety of the book. Again, for someone trying to break new ground, Thorn keeps falling into disappointingly well-trodden paths.

As for the rest of the story, I’ll give it half marks too, because I liked it in a lot of ways, but feel very little compulsion to continue the series. For one, Thorn has a tendency to overuse things. Nysta, and to a lesser degree Chukshene, have a habit of dropping puns and one-liners. At first, it was funny. Then I couldn’t decide if it was genius or just cheesy. By the end and the 100th such occurrence, I’d started imagining a ‘ba-da-bum’ and a laugh-track in my mind each time one of the characters dropped a clanger. It had been wholly reduced to Dad Joke level humour and definitely fell on the super-cheese side of the equation. Same thing with Nysta’s constant threats and Chukshene’s endless needling, it was effective in the beginning but just disruptive to the narrative by the end.

And the end, or lack there of, is one of the biggest reasons I don’t think I’ll continue this series unless I come across the sequel as a freebie. The whole plot of this book is set up by the blurb to be about Nysta hunting down and killing her husband’s murderers. However, she doesn’t find them until about 80% into the book. Then there is about a one-page altercation in which most of them escape. That’s it. That’s the entirety of the fight between her and the men she’s hunting.

She fights some robbers, some zombie type things, walks, rides a horse, cries, refuses to eat, talks and talks and talks, but she doesn’t fight the Bloody Nine much at all. Then, just at the end something else entirely happens, opening the plot to a much wider path and the book ends.

You don’t get the satisfaction of seeing Talek’s killers caught or much of a sense of vindication on seeing them realise that Nysta isn’t ‘just a whore’ but a dangerous killer they should fear. You don’t know what’s possessed Nysta (she’s unconscious at the end). You don’t know why Chukshene is sticking with her. You don’t have much more than a hint at where the series is headed. It’s just one big question-mark, making this whole book feel like little more than a prologue to something more. It is not a stand-alone book.

The writing itself is pretty good. Mechanically readable with believable dialogue (outside of the puns). There were a couple editing hiccups, but not enough to bother me. I was confused with the world-building. The author does set up a rather complex religious and political landscape, but it’s set up, not described or explored. So, I only ever had a vague understanding of it. It was enough to follow the story, but not enough to feel fully invested in it.

The author also seems to have an odd attachment to spiders. Chukshene runs with his knees too high, like an injured spider. A hill looks like a spider squatting. Runes looked like spiders dancing. Someone is described as cold, like a spider. Plus, apparently Chukshene just doesn’t like them and they can get as big as a hand. I second Chukshene here, hate them, so I notice these things.

All-in-all, if I had gone into this book with different or no expectations, I might not be as disappointed with it as I am. It’s not a bad book, a lot better than many indies I’ve read. But I really wanted that strong warrior Thorn promised in the beginning and I didn’t find her.  (Maybe we just have very different ideas of what makes a woman strong, but I still finished in a sulk.)

And as one finale snarky side comment, though she never drank tea, Nysta did in fact discuss a dress, a red one. Maybe not in the ‘I’m a pretty-pretty princess’ way a lot of fantasy, especially YA fantasy (which this is not, it’s harsh, violent and gritty, with lots of cursing—none of which I mind) does when they want to let a man provide the woman with the femininity she’s obviously lacking by being a fighter, but still there was a dress, it was discussed.

House of Stone

Book Review of House of Stone, by Vaughn R. Demont

House of Stone

I borrowed a copy of Vaughn R. Demont‘s House of Stone. Thanks L!

Description from Goodreads:

A modern knight, a noble quest, and a magical sword. What could go wrong?

Welcome to the City, where gods run nightclubs, goblins hire out as mercs, sorcerers work their magic, the Fae hold court over every neighborhood…and humanity is blissfully ignorant of it all.

For minor Fae noble Richard Stone, life is going well. He has a decent fiefdom (okay, it’s a slum), a budding acting career (okay, so it’s porn), and one of only five magical swords in the City. An arranged marriage is barely a blip on his worry meter—until his family blade loses its magic. The shame of it puts his noble standing in jeopardy.

To regain his status, Richard needs help. Fortunately, his new bride is a sidhe knight and his servant Simaron has, er, his back. Together they embark on a quest to find the demon who slew his father, investigate a conspiracy that goes to the highest echelons of Fae nobility, and discover a secret family legacy that could ruin his House.

All while keeping up appearances to a society that demands perfection. And they say a noble’s life is easy…

Review:
I have been entertained. Honestly, there are times that’s the highest praise a book can garner and now is one of those times. From the first page to the last, Richard amused me with his irreverent narrative, ignoble commentary, and ironic observations. This is without mentioning his capacitous ability for internal and emotional growth. I enjoyed him when he was a shiftless cad in the beginning and when he was a noble hero at the end. 

However, I also found this same personal growth problematic, in that it largely invalidated he and Sim’s pre-established love. Richard changes so much from the beginning to the end as to be almost a new man. Sim is shown to be a lot more (and different) that Richard ever knew. I ask then, how they were to have known one another enough to love beyond their lust? They were not yet (or yet known to be) the men they would love the other for being. It felt a little hollow to me.

I also thought that Richard (and to a lesser degree, Rem) were the only wholly fleshed out characters. The rest were likeable enough (or unlikeable when appropriate), but I never felt I knew them particularly well. 

Regardless of my few irritants here and there, I was happy throughout. Demont shows a real talent for timing and dramatic disclosures. I especially appreciated that he could drop a verbal bombshell or subtle joke and leave the reader to furrow out the meaning. Something is lost in a joke if the punchline has to be explained to you. I also was pulled in by the idea of elves being the stuff of dreams. I’ll definitely be seeking out more of Demont’s writing.

As an aside (and personal niggle), if you’re going to describe a sword in a book and then have, presumably, that sword on the cover, they should match. That’s not the Azure Blade as described in the book and I’m annoyed by the discrepancy.

Aside number two: If you follow this link to Mr. Demont’s webpage, you see that he’s crowdsourcing to go to a conference. Wouldn’t it be nice to reward a good writer for his skill and his willingness to put a request out that doesn’t come with any type of expectation. No, ‘I’m asking (read demanding) so the universe (you) must provide,’ but rather a polite ‘would anyone be willing to help.’ Anyone? I’d love to see this guy provided for by a host of strangers. It’d be a great way to let him know his writing it appreciated.

The Last Dark Elf

Book Review of The Last Dark Elf, by David Lee Kirkland

The Last Dark ElfI snagged a (presumably) used paperback copy of David Lee Kirkland‘s The Last Dark Elf, from Goodwill (.70¢). The book only has one other review. It’s on Amazon, from another woman here in Saint Louis. So I kind of wonder if I just picked up her copy. Sorry, that sort of supposition amuses me.

Description from Goodreads:
The Last Dark Elf is a contemporary fantasy, set primarily near D.C and St. Louis. An Irish immigrant named Scully unwittingly befriends the last surviving dark elf–a character bent on entangling Scully in the ancient war of the elves over the face of magic in the world.

Review:
I thought this was an all right read, maybe not right up my alley but still pretty good. It basically focuses on an ‘honourable man’ and his attempt to reorient his understanding of what is good or evil when his clearly defined worldview is upended by the sudden appearance of magic and mythical creatures. It was often thought provoking, but also I thought occasionally over simplified.

The main character is a devout Catholic, as are his two closest confidants (one is his priest). So for much of the book, what is ‘good’ or ‘evil’ is very Biblically-based. There is no real room for alternative faiths here. By the end of the book, Scully had been forced to face the fact that his belief system wasn’t all encompassing, but neither he nor anyone else in the book ever ventured away from the Christian worldview (at all).

Thus, what could have, in other circumstances, led to deep discussions on the subjective nature of belief or the one-sided tendency to pigeonhole only some as spiritually virtuous or even the danger of valuing dogmatic labels over the importance of human (or other) actions, came across as simple reiterations of what is or isn’t good for the theoretical soul. It was, in my opinion, a real lost opportunity.

HOWEVER, I came into reading this book with very little idea of what it was about or even what genre it fell into. There is a very real possibility that the adherence to Christian/Catholic doctrine and the emphasis on the tenets deeming the soul above all worth was intentional on the author’s part.

I actually liked Scully’s Catholicism. It wasn’t at all preachy, but it gave his character a little depth. Especially since honour, loyalty, duty and maybe belief were sub-themes of the book. However, Father Pisarski and the general tone of the book did take on a very religious feel on occasion. Not quite proselytising, but it made the book feel like I should classify it as Christian Fantasy (with capitals). It was a bit off putting, especially since at least one of the characters happily sitting down to pray with the good father, was an elf and decidedly not Christian. But, maybe that was the intent all along. Perhaps this was written to be just that, Christian Fantasy, and I’m just slow on the uptake.

The story itself is an interesting one. It has a very straightforward narration style. It’s told in a very linear fashion. It really is just a litany of things that happen to the main character. He does this, then this happens, then someone says this, and then they go here and do that, etc. No big twists or unexpected reveals, but an entertaining journey none-the-less. And honestly, though I occasionally wanted to gag at his self-congratulatory nature I did admire Scully’s dedication to doing what he deemed the ‘right thing.’

I did kind of sense a contradiction in this same courageous tendency to stick by his moral guns, though. Sometimes accepting that you’ve been wrong and being willing to change and grow takes a lot more strength of will than simply staying the course. Scully is portrayed as having accepted the dual nature of good and evil that magic and the mystical creatures epitomise, without compromising his faith. However, I can’t actually see this as possible.

While Scully is shown to struggle with the challenge of accepting the new view of reality and maintaining adherence to his Catholic beliefs, the reader is never fully aware of how he balanced them in the end. I never saw that they did. More specifically, accepting the neutral nature of creatures traditionally seen as evil could alienate him from his soul’s ‘true path,’ that Father Pisarski was always harping on about.

The writing was very readable. The main character’s Irish verbiage and word order made it feel formal though. Words are swapped around and there is a notable lack of contractions. As an example, here’s the first two sentences of the book: “Always good it is to see an old friend at Flanagans, the finest of all the Irish pubs gracing Washington, D.C. More than just good—and close to wonderful it is—when he owes you a bit of money and appears after a long absence.”

I didn’t hate this, it jut took a few pages to get used to. But I did have to wonder if he would really have such a strong Irish lilt if he’d lived in D.C. long enough to have been an alter-boy there, which is something he references when talking about Father Pisarski (who wasn’t Irish, so couldn’t be from the old country). Seems he’d sound more American and drop fewer Yodaisms if he’d been here since childhood. But, not a big issue for me.

I also happened to like the way Scully is (or becomes) aware of subtle meanings of things. Elves are apparently the masters of not-quite-lying, but not being wholly honest either. It was fun to follow Scully as he ferreted meanings out. But I appreciated that the reader wasn’t hit over the head with the meanings of things, as if too stupid to figure them out for themselves. 

All in all, I enjoyed the book well enough. I think someone who shared the characters (and probably the author’s) beliefs would get a lot more out of it. But it still wasn’t a bad read.