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Book Review of An Eye For An Eye For An Eye, by Marc Nash

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An eye for an eye for an eyeAuthor, Marc Nash sent me a copy of his novel An Eye For An Eye For An Eye.

Description from Goodreads:
You can tell a lot about a society from its murders. And Simon Moralee can tell everything from its victims. He has the gift- or is it a curse?- of being able to recover a vision of the last thing murder victims had imprinted on their minds before death. It means he can identify their killers and describe them to the police to secure a one hundred percent clean-up rate. A gift he first discovered as a teenager when cradling his butchered mother in his arms.
His financially bankrupt society leaps at the opportunity his gift provides, by cutting the level of policing and detection back to the bone, as a yet another cost-saving measure. The few remaining policemen serve as Simon’s minders as they seek to protect their most valuable asset and the one remaining celebrity the State can promote to their citizens as a good news story. Only people are losing interest in his exploits, as they lose hope for their society with its murder rate spiralling beyond Simon’s ability to keep pace. And into this numbers game emerges a new threat, when a criminal mastermind with a psychic power of his own, challenges Simon in a psychological joust to the death…

Review:
You know how people sometimes gripe that there are rarely any surprises at the end of books, as the good guys are guaranteed to win one way or another? “Why can’t the baddy win every now and again?” They might ask. Well, here is the book for them. It’s not strictly that a person on the evil side of the protagonist/antagonist divide wins, so much as a delicious twist on winning at all. Look for no happily ever afters here.

To be sure this is a dense read though. I generally enjoy the occasional ten dollar word, but they are the norm rather than the endearing exception here, making the book feel like an obscure work by some long dead classicist Russian or, gawd forbid, Italian. Obtuse. I spent a lot of time rereading overly wordy, syllable heavy passages of ethereal prose. It wasn’t quite purple, but it held that same uselessly accessorised feel to it. In the end, it just felt pretentious and pompous, as if Nash was puffing it up for ego’s sake.

Now, don’t get me wholly wrong. The style annoyed the ever-living crap out of me, but it was smart writing. The vocabulary was definitely well above the average, the ideas being imparted were thoroughly thought out and it was all mechanically and editorially without fault. (Or at least I noticed very few errors.) So, pending you can get past the self-important writing style, a good story awaits.

I did have trouble with the disassociated detached observer narrator. To me all of the narrative about the social situations and such felt like it should be coming from Simon, which meant anytime that that same narrative then turned its external eye on him, referring to him in the 3rd person, I was jarred. It just felt wrong to me.

I also found it inconsistent. Sometimes functioning as an omnipotent observer, other-times being denied knowledge of people’s thoughts or motives. Again, I found these moments pulled me from the story.

Final say? A really interesting dystopian setting (I might even call it post apocalyptic, if you’re willing to credit economic collapse with ending civilisation.), thought provoking characters and a appropriately gritty noir mystery of sorts, but not really. All presented in a painfully flouncy package, making it a so-so read but good thought experiment.

Static

Book Review of Static, by L.A. Witt

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Static

I downloaded a copy of L. A. Witt’s Static from Netgalley.

Description from Goodreads:
After two years together, Alex has been dreading the inevitable moment when Damon learns the truth: that Alex is a shifter, part of a small percentage of the population able to switch genders at will. Thanks to a forced implant, though, Alex is suddenly static—unable to shift—and male. Overnight, he’s out to a world that neither understands nor tolerates shifters . . . and to his heterosexual boyfriend. 

Damon is stunned to discover his girlfriend is a shifter, and scared to death of the dangers the implant poses to Alex’s health. He refuses to abandon Alex, but what about their relationship? Damon is straight, and with the implant both costly and dangerous to remove, Alex is stuck as a man. 

Stripped of half his identity and facing serious physical and social ramifications, Alex needs Damon more than ever, but he doesn’t see how they can get through this. 

Especially if he’s static forever.

Review:
Before I even get into this review I might as well admit that Guinevere Thomas has already written the review I want to. So, you might as well start with hers.

I want it noted here, in the beginning of my review, that Static has a noble goal. It’s essentially an apologue, using the fictional ability to shift ones gender as an allegory for non-heteronormative gender and sexual identities. Witt, no doubt, thought to place her characters in sympathetic positions that allow for lessons in tolerance and acceptance. I can 100% get behind this intent. I applaud the attempt.

HOWEVER, it’s a failure. It overshoots it mark by such a degree as to move into arrogant denials of identity in another way. Instead of claiming anyone who doesn’t ascribe to basic hertonormative ideal are problematic by virtue of their non-‘normalness’ (a ridiculous accusation we see all the time in RL), it essentially claims that the only way we can all live happily is to expect no static gender or sexual identity at all, which is just as insulting. This book doesn’t promote gender/sexual acceptance, it’s advocating gender/sexual identity nullification, which robs people of their right to self-identify as surely as forcing them to be pretend to be something they’re not. 

But that’s not the only reason why I found the book insulting to the very community it would appear to have been written to support. Its subtexts also made some disturbing correlation. For example, the main character claims to be gay.  He was born male, but can shift to female and spends most of his time as such (though throughout the course of the book he’s male) and he’s attracted to men. However, he also claims to have urges as both a male and a female that he would like to see satisfied.

This both separates his/her gender from his/her sexual orientation, which drastically simplifies a dynamic, interrelated, complex issue but also essentially equates being gay with being a woman, thereby denying him his masculinity. I find that problematic. And that’s without even getting into the dismissive way actual transgenders are dealt with or the fact that he only seemed to relate to his female form anyway.

I’m all for ‘do and be anything you want and to hell with the titles,’ but this really seems like it’s stretching a bit. It felt like it the book sought to purposefully removed the need for all gender/sexual identifiers and then chastise those who are still so gauche as to look for at least enough cues to drop the right pronoun at the right time. Because, of course, true acceptance wouldn’t care what gender a person was or who they were attracted to, which is again, a nice ideal.

This doesn’t come across as realistic, though. Both because gender/sexual identity expectations aren’t wholly socially separable and because the book isn’t about three genders (female, male, and genderless). It’s about being able to shift between being wholly or partially male OR female. Which means, despite the way the book reads, the author probably didn’t set out to separate gender and sexuality in her world, instead she’s just preaching that the expectation of gender or sexual identifiers is a form of bigotry. And there is very little I find scarier than an author who’s written a work that makes grand sweeping social judgements BY ACCIDENT.

Sorry, being able to recognise something as existing or existing in a certain state isn’t the same thing as forming a derogatory judgement of it. But in its attempt to highlight complete acceptance of all forms of gender identification and sexual orientations (which, again, is a wonderful thing to do) the book just created an arrogant, characteristicless hodgepodge of humanity.  This, if you think on it, kind of robs those same individuals of their right to bask in their own individualisms.

And all of that is just my main complaint. I have any number of smaller ones. Top of the list is the fact that this intention to teach the reader that queer/transgendered/homosexual/etc peoples are really just like anyone else and *this* is what true tolerance and acceptance looks like (again, a laudable goal) was utilised like a mallet to the brain. The reader is battered with it from the first page to the last. It’s an obvious ulterior motive that almost wholly eclipses the story trying to be told. And while I appreciate the message, I resent finding propaganda disguised as entertainment (even when I agree with it). Not to mention it was incredibly condescending and as a reader, I was insulted.

Other than its heavy-handed moralistic repetitive message, the writing was pretty good. I had no real problem with it. It’s mechanically fine.

However, I found the whole thing redundant. 90% of the book is literally three themes over and over again: Alex and Damon worrying, but not talking about how to deal with their relationship. Alex or Damon talking to other people about the social circumstances of shifters and statics (the ‘how to be tolerant’ spiel) and Alex whinging in self-absorbed mental agony.

I also felt no chemistry between Damon and Alex. We’re told they have it but you don’t see it. This is especially problematic since it’s this chemistry that’s supposed to be instrumental in getting Damon to accept a man as a lover when he’s staunchly heterosexual. I didn’t feel it. Nor did their past relationship fill the void. It seemed to be predominantly based on one happy episode and two years of Damon worrying about Alex. Where am I supposed to find love in that? It felt very hollow. Not to mention Damon was more understanding and introspective than any RL man would ever be. He’s just too much of a perfect Prince Charming to be believable. 

In the end, I’m gonna have to wash my hands of this one. I respect what Witt was trying to do in this book. And while I’m a straight, white, western woman who inhabits a position of relative social privilege and can’t claim firsthand knowledge of the issues being addressed in this book, I can suggest that any future author interested in following Witt’s footsteps put a little more thought into what the overarching message he or she is projecting with her or his characters. Because I strongly suspect (and it’s only a suspicion, I don’t know Witt) the author didn’t mean to make some of the important social claims being made in this book. And that’s a terrifying thought.

Book Review: Broken Mirrors #1-3), by Vaughn R. Demont

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It appears to be Vaughn R. Demont week around here. First, I read and enjoyed House of Stone. Then, this happened, resulting in this and this. (Proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that when a community, even one stretched across the globe, decides to move a mountain, that shit shifts.) Then, I decided to give the Broken Mirrors series a try as well.

Coyote's CreedDescription from Goodreads:
If con games were taught in high school, Spencer Crain would be on the honor roll. As it is, he’ll be riding the edge of failure to graduation next month. Then Spence gets the news that his long-gone father is not only dead, but was a Coyote, one of three clans of tricksters in the City.

With a near-catatonic mother on his hands, Spence couldn’t care less about the Coyotes’ ongoing feud with the Phouka and the Kitsune—until it lands on his doorstep. Suddenly he’s thrown headfirst into a dangerous world he knows next-to-nothing about. His only guide is Rourke, dashing King of the Phouka, plus a growing pack of half-siblings, a god, and Fate herself.

As Spence embarks on a journey to learn the Coyote’s creed, the truth about his heritage, and how to handle his growing attraction to Rourke, he wonders when his life turned from TV sitcom to real-life danger zone. And what price must he pay to survive the next roll of the dice…

Review:
Funny, funny, funny…maybe a little on the lowbrow side, with the endless blond jokes and such (and I say that while admitting that I liked it, so I don’t mean than in a snobby way). It fit the character so no complaints here. I found myself reading with a goofy smile on my face more than once.

I have to agree with some of the other reviewers who have pointed out that Spencer had a tendency to speak beyond his years, showing a knowledge a self awareness that isn’t particularly realistic in an eighteen year old—the type of knowledge and introspection that is only possible with a little age under your belt so that you can look back at your ignorantly self-assured teen self and see your own faults. But he was still a loveable rogue that I enjoyed spending time with.

Spencer’s sexuality played a large role in this book. Not in a pornographic way, but it was still an important aspect of the plot. I adored the fact that he was completely at ease with who he was in that respect. There was none of the angst or shame or just weighty significance to his bisexuality that is so often seen in literature. His ability to say (or not say, as the case may be since even saying it wasn’t a necessity) ‘I am what I am, so what?’ gave it an easy naturalness that is usually reserved for heterosexual relationships. This was really a pleasure to come across in a character. I’d love to see more such depictions.

I was a little lost in some of the supernatural aspects of the book. The idea of different mythologies existing beside each other is an interesting one, but it left plenty of gaps for a reader to wonder how things really worked, especially as it relates to the destruction and reformation of worlds, placement of the gods, and their relation to the paranormals of the book.

But despite these few niggles I generally really enjoyed the read. I enjoyed Spencer’s quirky, media-soaked, libidinous personality. I enjoyed seeing him learn new things without him feeling baselessly naive or taken advantage of. I enjoyed Demont’s ability to maintain a breathtaking pace without leaving the reader feeling rushed. I enjoyed the fact that the book is relaxed enough to let a series of stupid riddles carry a scene and still leave me laughing. All in all, well worth the read.

Lightning RodDescription from Goodreads:
Sorcerers have always been feared in the City, their origins as unknown as the nature and extent of their power. When James Black, a young man fleeing an abusive lover, becomes a sorcerer, his old life is erased from existence, and his new life is indebted to powerful entities.

Escaping the man who abused him was supposed to be the end, but the very magic that freed him has put him on a collision course with the gods and the Sorcerer King himself.

And only one of them can survive.

Review:
Hmmm, how do I start with this one? You see, I’m a little uncertain of my footing. I really enjoyed book one of this series (as well as House of Stone, by the same author), and while this seemed an OK read, it just didn’t stand up to the other two books by Demont that I’ve just plowed through. So where does that leave me and my need to review it?

Mostly I feel that the book didn’t have that certain something special the other books did. The main character was a victim, and while he grew in strength and determination, he didn’t have the humor I loved in some of Demont’s other characters. In fact, I found that James never particularly endeared himself to me. I cared little for him by the end of the book.

I also thought the weave of the plot wasn’t as tight. There were a lot of times that I either couldn’t quite visualise what was going on or wondered how something happened. For example, at one point, James had to cross into a magical circle, and in order to do so, he had to go through a fairly elaborate ritual. Shortly thereafter, someone else crossed the same circle with no such ritual. How? Similarly, Heath is stated to have been untrained; however, a very short while later, he showed some pretty impressive skills. How?

In every Demont book I’ve read, the side characters haven’t been as richly tapestried as the main ones. No real problem; that’s just the way it is. But here, it felt extreme. The primary antagonist only showed up sporadically, had no depth, was unilaterally evil and prone to evil villain speech. I didn’t find him particularly believable.

Then there was the sex…or not sex as it would appear. I’ve really enjoyed Demont’s ability to write a sex scene that is both gratifying and not overly pornographic…no that’s not quite right (I don’t mind pornographic); rather, I mean, sexy without also stretching the realms of erotic possibilities to the point of fantasy. However, here the sex was rushed and undetailed. We were essentially just left knowing it happened. Meh.

Now, having said all that, the book does still have Demont’s trademark geektastic comic streak. There’s a Marvin (though I think I would have appreciated him more if the character hadn’t felt the need to explain the reference to the reader). There were Dungeon’s and Dragon’s references. There were potshots at the LARPers. The book is still a fun read. But, honestly, I don’t think it stood up to Demont’s other works. I’m told that the series redeems itself in book three, though. So there’s still hope.

community service coverDescription from Goodreads:
The King is dead, long live the King. And, uh, could you float him a couple bucks?

Life as the only human sorcerer isn’t all it’s cracked up to be for James Black, the Lightning Rod. Between gremlins in the closet, paladins crashing through skylights and working spells in a storage locker, hunting a body-hopping spirit is a welcome distraction. If only he didn’t have to partner with a Coyote.

After being punted to the curb by his roommate (with benefits), things are looking dire for trickster Spencer Crain, until an old friend offers him a shot at a big score scamming the best of marks: a vampire. Thing is, he’ll have to work with his worst enemy to pull it off.

With lives in the balance, James is learning the hard way what being a sorcerer really means—and that he picked a hell of a time to quit smoking. Spencer is faced with the choice between his future and his friends. Yeah, like he’s never seen that movie before…

Review:
So very much character growth in this novel! James learns to stand on his own merits and to have confidence in his own strengths. Spencer learns a lot about basic human decency and what it really means to be a good man. It really was an enjoyable read.

There were times I thought it dragged a little bit, but they were largely eclipsed by the times I thought that the way Demont managed to parallel events to create tension and a little mystery was awe-inspiring. I also found myself (here and in the previous books) seething in vocabulary envy. I love that Demont can throw out ten-dollar words (and Scrabble jokes) without it feeling pretentious or forced. Love that!

Still front and centre to the humour of the series is the nerd/geek references. I’m a bit too young to have hit the peak of D&D (It was Vampire Masquerade when I was in High School.), but I can still identify with the character traits that make a Geek identifiably a Geek. D&D, Hitchhikers, Star Wars, Star Trek, etc., and I love when these same traits (tropes, really in this context) can be used for self-effacing or non-demeaning humour because the reader sees themselves in there somewhere. So much fun. I’m looking forward to more of the series.