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This wasn’t a great movie, but it wasn’t as painful as some of the “let’s-cash-in-on-80s-nostalgia-with-a-live-action-cartoon-flick!” films. But when you get down to it, this film is a tragedy that doesn’t know it’s a tragedy. At one point, the humans are asking the Smurfs about their names, questions like “Are you named when you’re born and that determines your personality, or do they wait until you display a noteworthy trait then name you after that trait?” The Smurfs brushed it off. Later, Grace asks Smurfette about her origins, and about being the only female in the entire village. Once again, this doesn’t really go anywhere. (Smurfette gets to buy a new dress, and says how nice it is to have a girlfriend at the end of the film, but that’s it … and of course, she immediately has to leave her only female friend!) See also: The Problem with Smurfs. These are great questions. Powerful questions. Is a Smurf limited by his (or her) name? Can a Smurf ever move beyond the narrow definition of that one limiting trait? The movie starts to go there with Clumsy Smurf, showing his dreams of becoming a Hero and giving him a randomly impressive drum solo … but there’s no true follow-through. At the end of the movie, despite his accomplishments, he’s will always be Clumsy Smurf. And that’s why the Smurfs are tragic figures. They’re trapped as one-dimensional characters in a 3D film, and the worst part is that they know it. Smurfette knows she’s alone. Clumsy yearns to be different. The Smurfs do occasionally try to move beyond the confines of their names — Grouchy gets sentimental with a green M&M, Clumsy has one heroic moment at the end — but then they’re yanked back from the brink of freedom. Imagine what that must feel like, to be forced into a single role at birth, a role that not only defines what you’ll do for the rest of your life, but what you’ll be. Trapped. Unchanging. Your name is a black hole, and no matter how hard you try, you’ll never escape its pull. And then to see in humans a freedom that you yourself will never know. That’s the true dystopian horror of the Smurfs.
The protagonist is Anika Duncan, an airship pilot for the U.N. Polar Guard who gets shot down after discovering a nuclear missile being smuggled into the Arctic. She soon finds herself in the middle of a global power struggle. The Gaia Corporation have devised a plan to reverse global warming, but the technology can also be used as a deadly superweapon. (And I can’t say what the technology is without spoiling things, which sucks, because it’s pretty darn cool.) I like the extrapolation Buckell has done on a world where the icecaps continue to melt and the oceans continue to rise. He’s done his research, and it shows. (Some aspects of the book should be familiar to anyone who reads his blog.) The dwindling ice caps create a rush to tap previously inaccessible oil reserves, leading to a proliferation of arctic settlements and colonies. Those settlements in the arctic have a bit of a science fiction feel as well, which was fun. Yes, I’m reading the book through more of an SF lens than a thriller one. This was a pretty fast read, with colorful characters, a bit of dangerous romance, international intrigue, spies, guns, all leading to a desperate, high-stakes climax. If you’re familiar with Buckell’s work, this book has some of his trademarks: awareness that there’s more to the world than the United States; significant nonwhite characters (Anika is neither white nor straight); sailing ships written by someone who’s actually lived on one; and lots of action. Given that climate change is a hot political topic right now, I suspect some readers will denigrate the book as leftist liberal propaganda, and that’s unfortunate. I’ll admit there were a few points early on where I felt like the message started to overtake the story. But then I started wondering if this was due to the fact that in the U. S., any mention of climate change has become so highly politicized. In other words, it’s not that Buckell is preaching; it’s more that political groups have been screaming and squawking and flat-out lying at me about global warming issues for so long that it affected my reading of the book, which is unfortunate. Overall, Arctic Rising does exactly what good science fiction is supposed to do: examines the current science and research, makes predictions about the future, and writes a rousing story about that future. This book comes out on February 28.
It’s good. You should read it. What, you want more? Okay, fine. Here’s the official summary from the publisher: The Crescent Moon Kingdoms, land of djenn and ghuls, holy warriors and heretics, Khalifs and killers, is at the boiling point of a power struggle between the iron-fisted Khalif and the mysterious master thief known as the Falcon Prince. In the midst of this brewing rebellion a series of brutal supernatural murders strikes at the heart of the Kingdoms. It is up to a handful of heroes to learn the truth behind these killings. One of those heroes is Doctor Adoulla Makhslood, “the last real ghul hunter in the great city of Dhamsawaat,” and he’s awesome. He’s old, he’s burnt out, and dammitall he’s doing the best he can. He’s not invulnerable or superhuman, and he’s facing a darkness more powerful than anything he’s encountered in his long career as a ghul hunter. You also have Raseed bas Raseed, a badass holy warrior whose time with Adoulla creates a wonderful conflict between the rigid purity of Raseed’s religious beliefs and the messiness of the real world. He and Adoulla are joined by Zamia Badawi, who is just as deadly as Raseed, but where Raseed is disciplined and focused, Badawi is raw and passionate and angry. Ahmed does a great job with his characters, making you feel for them in a way few authors can. The worldbuilding was refreshing as well. I love that Adoulla’s magic is faith-based, and the contrast between his faith and Raseed’s. The city, the tribes, the history … everything feels real. Ahmed isn’t just slapping in two-dimensional set pieces. The book gets rather dark at time. Our villains are genuinely Evil, and that comes through from page one. Much as I loved this book (and I’ll definitely be picking up the next), the ending didn’t sit quite right with me, and I’ve been trying to figure out why. It’s hard to get into details without spoiling things, but I think it comes down to the emotional payoff not quite matching up to what I was hoping for. That might just be a matter of personal taste. Overall, a strong first novel, and I’m looking forward to the sequel. Throne of the Crescent Moon comes out on February 7.
The book is set in a world where magic has returned, leading to all kinds of messiness. Oscar Britton is a lieutenant attached to the Supernatural Operations Corps, a military unit which helps to neutralize rogue magic users. But then, after a particularly intense mission, Britton manifests magic of his own. He creates a magical gate to another dimension. Unfortunately, this particular school of magic is, how should I put this … it’s “prohibited with extreme prejudice.” So Britton makes a run for it. According to U.S. law, he’s earned himself a death sentence. Instead, the military tracks him down and offers him another choice: join a unit that doesn’t officially exist, and join the real fight against magical threats. This is not a warm and fuzzy book. It’s fast-paced, intense, and at times brutal. Britton is a flawed protagonist, and he makes his share of serious mistakes. While I occasionally wanted to yell, “Dude, WTF are you doing?” I could also understand why he made the choices he did. He’s a good, conflicted character. Actually, “conflicted” is a good word for the book as a whole. Nothing is simple; there are no straightforward right or wrong answers. Cole does a good job of presenting the messiness of a world where a teenager could wake up one day with the power to massacre an police force, and the costs of trying to protect people in such a world. This is an ambitious, thoughtful, and at times brutal book. It’s got a different feel than most of the fantasy I’ve read lately, and I’m glad my agent was able to hook me up with a review copy. But the MOST IMPORTANT thing here is that the book has goblins, and they’re pretty damn awesome. Shadow Ops: Control Point comes out on January 31.
Reader, that was a mistake. Let me summarize the first part of the book, to the tune of the Badgers song: Panties, panties, panties, panties, Panties, panties, panties, panties, And that’s when I stopped reading. For the sake of accuracy, I should point out that the scene in chapter five wasn’t an actual, completed rape, but a thwarted attempt: Attilla looked, expecting another pun. What he saw made him pause appreciatively. “Hello, nymph. Are you looking for a faun?” “I am no nymph,” she replied. “I am Joy’nt1, the walking skeleton.” The bleep you are! I know a nymph when I see one. So get a run on, because if I catch you I’ll make exactly like a celebrating faun.” … Attilla sheathed his sword and grabbed her by an arm. “Bleep no! Now I’ve got you and I will do what I bleeping well please with you.” WHAT THE BLEEP HAPPENED TO THESE BOOKS? The plot is about a walking skeleton (Picka Bones) and his friend Joy’nt, a dog named Woofer, a cat named Midrange, a bird named Tweeter, and a princess named Dawn who needs a prince. In order for Dawn to find her man, they’re sent to capture Pundora’s box, which released a flood of terrible puns into Xanth. I’ll be honest, I was torn about posting this review. Partly because I don’t generally review books I don’t finish, and partly because I skipped ahead to the author’s note and learned that Anthony’s daughter died while he was writing this book. I can’t even imagine what he went through, and I feel terrible for him and his family. So I wouldn’t expect this to be his strongest book. Yet if this is a substandard Xanth book, why didn’t an editor at Tor work with Anthony to fix it? Why did they send this thing to print as is? Tor puts out a lot of incredible books, so I’m baffled as to how or why they let this one into the world in its current form. I suspect that the things I find problematic go deeper than this one book. Anthony notes that his next Xanth book will probably be Luck of the Draw, “wherein there is a Demon contest to determine the ideal man for Princess Harmony … Xanth has many princesses, as noted, and finding suitable men for them is a continuing project.” Right. The panties thing was beginning to show up even back when I stopped reading Anthony’s stuff, but now it seems like every human and humanoid female has to flash them at least once a chapter to fulfill the panty quota. And then there’s the “fun and lighthearted” attempted rape. (Because men are just like that and can’t help themselves…) Yeah, I’m done. I think I’m going to go read Elizabeth Bear’s Range of Ghosts instead. — Batman: The Brave and the Bold is at times a very silly show. I grew up on Batman: The Animated Series, a noir, darkly-styled take and about as far from this new version as you can get. So when my son and I first started watching Brave and the Bold, which gave us things like Jungle Batman and a rather bizarre musical episode, I was … skeptical. My first impression of Super Hero Squad was even worse. Basically, it looked like a show designed to sell little kid toys. The characters were literally designed based on Hasbro’s squat, stubby DC superhero line of toys. Sure, 90% of kids’ programming exists to sell toys, but this was just over-the-top childish. Well, I’ve changed my mind about both shows. The last episode of Superhero Squad quoted Red Dwarf and included a shout-out to Douglas Adams, when the Scarlett Witch arrives at the end of the universe and says, “Huh. I thought there’d at least be a restaurant or something.” And then of course you had the Silver Surfer’s line, “It felt like millions of fanboys crying out in dismay at the redesign of a beloved character…” I’m a sucker for self-awareness, for shows that know exactly what they are and embrace it. Silly or no, that episode won me over. As for Batman: The Brave and the Bold, they changed my mind too. Partly by showing an episode which had Batman, Weird Al, and Scooby Doo all together (no lie), but primarily by presenting one of the most awesome superhero characters ever: Aquaman. What do you do with Aquaman? He swims around, talks to fish, rules Atlantis … how do you work that into Batman? The mere idea is outrageous! They did it by embracing the silly, making Aquaman a completely over-the-top, self-aggrandizing hero. He writes and sells books about his adventures. He sings rousing songs to motivate his compatriots. It is indeed OUTRAGEOUS! (Yes, it’s one of his catch-phrases. Yes, you’ll probably hear me saying it on panels.) Yet Batman isn’t afraid to go dark. I can think of at least two episodes in which other heroes don’t survive the final battle, which impressed me. Sadly, both series are ending. Or ended. I’m not sure the exact timeline, but both have been given the axe. As a geek and fan, I felt it was my duty to admit I was wrong about both shows, and to admire the awesomeness that can come about when you embrace the silly. I leave you now with Aquaman’s Rousing Song of Heroism. Free books and a free stuffed meerkat at the end of the review!
The idea of wine-based magic is very much the heart of this book, and it’s a nifty idea indeed. Even for someone like me, who doesn’t drink alcohol. Our protagonist is a boy named Jerzy, a slave to the Vineart Malech, who senses Jerzy’s gifts and pulls him out of the fields to be trained in the ways of magic. Slowly, Jerzy learns the history of magic, the powers inherent in different vines and grapes, and the process for turning those grapes into spellwines. The tale of the apprentice wizard is a familiar one, but the worldbuilding and detail of the Vin Lands brings a freshness to Jerzy’s story. As Jerzy’s training progresses, we learn about an external threat, a coming danger that threatens Vinearts and perhaps all of the Vin Lands. Jerzy and his master must protect themselves against attacks both human and magical, while trying to seek out the source of this growing danger. Gilman makes some interesting choices with this book. Slavery is used deliberately, as it is believed to be the only way to bring out a potential Vineart’s talents. Like the grape, the young vineart grows strongest under stress. That aspect of the story and worldbuilding is unpleasant, but I trust Gilman is going somewhere with it in future books. Jerzy’s life as a slave has definitely impacted him. He was sexually abused in the distant past, and that has left its scars. Once again, I’m not sure where she’s going with that part of his character, but it’s a thread I expect to come back in future books. I enjoyed watching Gilman explore the rules and limitations of her vine-based magic, the possibilities and the implications. That’s something I’m working on myself in my current book, so yes, I was taking notes If I had a complaint, it would be that at times the exploration of the idea seemed to push plot into the background, and I tend to be a plot-oriented reader. This is very much the introductory book of the trilogy. But as I enjoyed the idea and the world, that’s not a major complaint. The ending also reflects the book’s “Part One” status. It’s not a cliffhanger, per se, but this is definitely just the start of the larger story. For those who have read it, what did you think? # And now for the giveaway! Gilman is well known in certain circles as the meerkat of the SF/F world. She even has an ongoing Practical Meerkat column at Book View Cafe, offering writing advice to authors young and old. Gilman has offered to give a free copy of books one and two (in hardcover!), and a small stuffed meerkat for answering the following question: Who’s going to be first against the wall when the weremeerkat revolution comes? Leave your answer in the comments, and I’ll pick a winner at the end of the week. (U.S. and Canadian entrants only for this one, please.)
Brennan and I both wrapped up a fantasy series this year, and it’s fascinating to see some of the similar choices we made. Much as I did with Snow Queen, Brennan wrote a darker story, raising the stakes for all involved. We both wrote about a formerly good character twisted to dark purposes. In Brennan’s case, that’s Dead Rick, a wonderful character trapped in a horrible situation, his memories torn from him by– Well, I won’t spoil that bit, but I loved the technique used here. Brennan and I are working on a discussion about ending our series and the choices we made. More on that later, assuming I get off my ass and finish my part. (This was supposed to be posted already. It was not, on account of the fact that I suck.) So, back on topic. Oh yes, Dead Rick rocks, and the blending of magic and technology that Brennan began in earlier books has progressed to fascinating ends. I remain in awe of the way Brennan so seamlessly intertwines history and fantasy. She also does a nice job of portraying a society in decline, a magical kingdom on the verge of disintegration. Lune, Queen of the Onyx Court, has vanished, devoting herself to holding the court together through the sheer strength of her will. I missed her character, and I think that loss is a major contributor to the darker tone of this book. Some fairies are searching for a way to escape, while others seek to find a way to heal the court, and the darker fae work to take advantage of the chaos. In the human world, a girl named Eliza has devoted herself to finding her lost sweetheart, stolen by the fairies years ago. But it was Dead Rick and the plight of the fairies that really sucked me into the book. Their desperation, the urgency of their quest to save themselves and their home … it’s powerful stuff. While I think you can read this book on its own, I’d definitely recommend reading them in order. And if you’re a fan of richly detailed and vivid historical settings, full of old-school fairy magic, then I’d definitely recommend reading them, period.
Moon has an autistic son, which clearly informed her writing of this book. The Speed of Dark tells the story of Lou Arrendale, an autistic man living in a near future very similar to our own time. The back of the book blurb focuses on: …an experimental “cure” for his condition. Now Lou must decide if he should submit to a surgery that may change the way he views the world–and the very essence of who he is. But the book is so much more. This isn’t an action or adventure novel, and the treatments and potential cure for autism is pretty much the only real SF element in the story. The most powerful thing, to me, is the way Moon brings you into Lou’s perspective: It is hard to drive safely in the hot afternoon, with the wrong music in my head. Light flashed off windshields, bumpers, trim; there are too many flashing lights. By the time I get home, my head hurts and I’m shaking. I take the pillows off my couch into the bedroom, closing all the shades tightly and then the door. I lie down, piling the pillow on top of me, then turn off the light. This is something else I never tell Dr. Fornum about. She would make notes in my record about this… As the father of a boy on the high-functioning end of the autistic spectrum, I spent a fair amount of time reminding myself that Lou’s experiences aren’t meant to be a universal representation of autism. Lou works with other autistics, doing pattern-analysis for a large corporation, and Moon does a very good job of showing Lou and the other characters as individuals. Autism is a significant part of who they are, but it doesn’t define them. Moon shows many of the challenges Lou faces, both the internal and the external. A new supervisor wants to eliminate the “special accommodations” Lou and his unit receive at work. A man from Lou’s fencing group blames Lou for his problems, accusing people like him of stealing jobs from “normal” people. (Sound familiar? Much of this book could be set in today’s world.) And then there’s the potential cure, the chance for Lou to be normal, whatever that means. Moon does a decent job of exploring the moral messiness and complexities of “curing” autism, though I would have liked to see more of this part. Should we cure someone who’s able to function? What about someone we define as low-functioning? How many of the challenges autistic people face are inherent to the condition, and how many of those challenges are externally created? The Speed of Dark is a book that makes you think. Lou is a wonderful, sympathetic, beautiful protagonist. This isn’t a plot-oriented, action-packed book, but it’s one I definitely recommend reading. For those of you who’ve read it already, I’d love to hear what you thought.
As with his previous reviews, I asked Jackson some questions, but everything that follows is his own words (except for my italicized comments, which will be in parentheses). # First Dorothy was at Hugson’s Ranch, but then the earthquake brought them inside of the world. It’s a good thing that they didn’t fall to the core! Then they would die. So they fell a little , and while they were there they were trapped in a mountain and it had glass rocks because everything was glass there. And they have a bunch of colored suns. And there’s a trick that the Wizard performed to make two suns that they’d never seen before, with lanterns! Then they went to a higher layer because they were climbing the mountain, where everything but them was invisible, and the wizard killed an invisible bear! And then they got into the buggy and rowed up the river away from the bears to where the wooden gargoyles lived, and everything was wooden! And then when they were locked up they saw another rock so they went in there and met some dragonettes. They should be called dragons, but they say that they’re too young. And then they went the wrong way, but Dorothy made the signal, and then they were in Oz. And a couple of chapters later, everybody went home. (Plotwise, the ending of this one did not impress me. -Jim) But when Zeb was home, his uncle asked where in the world he’s been, and Zeb said he was in the world! That was funny, wasn’t it? The best part was when they saw the dragonettes. I thought it was funny when the eyes were flashing yellow. I think it was silly. I didn’t like the part when they were saying that Eureka (Dorothy’s kitten) ate the piggy. Well, she tried to actually, but she couldn’t because it fell into a vase. And then the Tin Woodman had to open the vase. I didn’t like it because they said Eureka was going to die. I don’t like it when people say other people are going to die. I think my favorite character was the piggies. They were the ones who were safe from the bears. They were invisible, so the bears couldn’t see them! When I pictured them in my head with my mind’s eye, they looked cute! Teeny tiny pigs. I think the best Oz book is The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. And by the way, how many of you read that book from my first interview? I want to know! |
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Copyright © 2012 Jim C. Hines - All Rights Reserved |
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My kids got the Smurfs movie for Christmas this year, and we watched it over the weekend. This was not as painful an experience as some of you might expect. Azrael the cat was entertaining, Hank Azaria does a decently cartoonish Gargamel, and I’m rather fond of Neil Patrick Harris.
Arctic Rising 
Throne of the Crescent Moon 
Shadow Ops: Control Point 
Decades ago, I read a lot of Piers Anthony. Most of his books were fast-paced and didn’t take themselves too seriously, which I appreciated. I haven’t read his stuff in years, but when I received a review copy of his latest book Well-Tempered Clavicle, the thirty-fifth Xanth book, I decided to check it out. I figured it would be a fun trip to a fantasy world I hadn’t visited in a while.
Flesh and Fire 
With Fate Conspire 
My six-year-old and I just finished reading the fourth Oz book: Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz. He’s still enjoying the series, and we did our review together about ten minutes after we closed the book.
