Robin Lythgoe's Bookshelf

I LOVED this book—and I don't say that very often! Until All Curses Are Lifted, by Tim Frankovich, is about magic—and society—gone horribly wrong. The magic system is incredible, unusual, and mangled. That is to say that the magic has been twisted in an effort to make life "fair," but (as with nearly all good things) people have contrived a way to abuse the system. How does one get around a system that curses the innocent and punishes good deeds? Worse, this broken magic is breaking the world…

Wow. What a tense, action-packed, intrigue-filled, story! While not without its (few) flaws, Promise of Blood is an extraordinary debut. So much about it was epic: revolution, religion, magic, world-building, family issues, addiction issues, mystery—and McClellan has managed to blend them all together completely and seamlessly. This book sets a very high standard for *epic* flintlock fantasy. And the characters! More wow. They're as far from cookie-cutter as you can get. McClellan brings them to life with unique perspectives on what is happening around them. Those that matter are completely fleshed-out and fascinatingly multilayered. Never do the multiple points of view confuse the reader or stop being interesting. (Though I wanted to knock a few of them upside the head now and then…) The magic system receives an injection of originality and interest, though I might have liked to see better how and why a powder mages “works.” (Snorting or ingesting gun powder isn’t really a logical course of action to my way of thinking!) The vivid story-telling wonderfully supports a fast-paced plot that gradually increases in tension and intrigue—and just plain human interest. I don’t often give five star ratings, but I find McClellan’s style and talent satisfying in ways that most authors never achieve. The third and fourth books in the series are equally gripping, but lost a star each to both some slow sections and to increasing gore. Yes, I realize it’s hard to pull off a revolution without blood and guts, but I’m a fan of the technique that leads me up to a critical moment and lets me fill in what appears to be obvious with my own imagination. Still a great addition to my bookshelf!

"Rend the Dark" starts off with a slightly strange prologue—and then launches into a rich, well-done tale of fantasy and horror. The magic is unique, the evil the characters face is unusual (at least in my reading experience!), and the world-building is tidily woven into the meat of the story. The characters are diverse, cleverly sculpted, and appealing in their flaws. The pace is easily intense enough to keep the reader eagerly turning the pages. Gelineau and King have produced a first-class story that fits in a little bitty space. I received a free copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley, and I’m glad I got to read it!

What a wonderful, unique twist on fairytales! Danley weaves her own style into a retelling of familiar stories and does not disappoint. I love the brevity of her descriptions; it is a rare author that can convey so much information and emotion with so few words and still maintain such a lyrical quality. I was completely enchanted by her prose and by the story itself. Duty, treachery, love and sacrifice wind throughout a mystery that the Woodcutter must solve. He has help on his long and twisting journey, and we’re given a sizable dose of the old-fashioned magic one rarely sees outside of fairytales. Humor, setbacks, and plot twists lead to a climax and resolution that surprised and delighted me with its emotional impact. A few editing issues interrupted the otherwise smooth flow of the tale—typos, words left out, and odd chapter breaks. I hope they are cleaned up in later editions than my copy. Otherwise, I say Bravo, Kate Danley! Thank you for a truly engaging read!

I thoroughly enjoyed this single-point-of-view tale. It begins with the introduction of a staggering drunk as the main character—a not entirely likable character, but the reader can sympathize with him—and journeys with him to his surprising new position in the world. This advancement doesn’t come to Errol Stone easily; he has physical and emotional demons to overcome while he’s being chased by poison- and blade-toting villains. He makes some incredible faux pas, and he also does exactly the opposite. There is a lot going on his world that he doesn’t know or understand. Carr handles the mystery well, and the reader learns as Errol learns. This doesn’t prevent the revelation of several subplots that keep the action and suspense going—and the story is wonderfully complex. The end is a little shaky, but not abysmal. It didn’t keep me from moving directly on to Book 2. The intriguing epilogue definitely helped in that respect. Criticisms? There are a few typos and confusions about direction, number, and who a character is talking to — enough to make me read the passages twice, but not enough (by any means) to ruin the story. The book does have a virulent case of Comma Splicing, which I find annoying in general but, again, not enough to ruin the story. And… naming conventions are inconsistent, with some taken straight from our world, some slightly modified (Morgols, Soedes, Basqu — and Finn Maccol), and some original. What was going on there? Did I miss something? Those nit-picking concerns aside, the book is a wonderful page-turner. Clean, gore-free (in spite of fight scenes), and an all-around good read.

The Graveyard Book, set in the graveyard in “Old Town” (somewhere in England) is a story about Bod, an unusual boy living in an unusual place and under truly unusual circumstances. When tragedy strikes his family, Bod is adopted by the denizens of the cemetery and guarded by a man known only as Silas. While he grows he is taught by ghosts from every century, by Silas, and by Miss Lupescu (a werewolf). The tales of his adventures combine a wonderful sense of humor with shades of creepiness and a dash of magic. The assassin that killed Bod’s family was supposed to kill him, too. His failure haunts him and he continues to hunt the boy. In the end, Bod faces the killer—but not without cost. The end is bittersweet, but well crafted and fitting, even full of hope for Bod’s strange future. More suitable for tweens and teens, The Graveyard Book has its dark moments and some violence. It is the winner of the British Carnegie Medal and the American Newbery Medal. As an adult, I found it occasionally dark, occasionally sad, and frequently heart-warming.

I have to confess, this short story was not nearly as impressive as the other Robin Hobb works I’ve read. I wanted to love it, but I never felt personally involved in the story. It is told as a narrative—a written record—of the truth of King Charger’s life. It involves much telling and very little showing. Far too much of the story took the form of “some would say… but…” Yes, and the former became history. I like the idea of it, but I very much missed becoming invested in any of the characters. The format leaves a vast gulf between reader and characters. Still… Hobb writes with her typically compelling and intelligent style. The politics are clever and frustrating (as all politics are!). The story of how the Witted were so thoroughly discredited is compelling, believable, and heart-breaking. “The Willful Princess and the Piebald Prince” makes for an interesting tasty historical tidbit.