Sunday, August 27, 2017

2017/77: The Painted Queen -- Elizabeth Peters and Joan Hess

'Shall I tell you where we went this afternoon?’ Ramses said, unable to bear my cheerful prattle. It is a trait (or a weakness) inherited from his father. I have been known to take advantage of it when warranted.
‘If you must,’ I said in a pained voice. (p. 81)
Final novel in the Amelia Peabody sequence, set in 1912: begun by Barbara Mertz (Elizabeth Peters) before her death and completed by her friend Joan Hess. Unfortunately it's not a seamless collaboration, and I didn't feel Ms Hess had a grasp on the characters or the setting. Nefret has become quite foul-mouthed; Ramses succumbs to whims; Amelia has acquired an improbable new skill; Emerson suffers unusually poor impulse control. There are also a number of anachronisms ('the butler must have retreated downstairs for a shot of Jagermeister', twenty years before its invention) and continuity errors; some errors that should have been picked up by the editor ('after more than three centuries interred beneath the sand' -- er, I think you mean millennia in this instance); and a major plot point that revolves around the use of a chemical compound only discovered in 1912.

There are some nice moments, and some passages that evoke fond memories of earlier books. Amelia's admiration of the Nefertiti head (the 'painted queen' of the title) is wholly in character. But I didn't find this a satisfactory read, and am relieved that I still have some of Peters' original novels on the to-be-read pile.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

2017/75: Penric's Mission -- Lois McMaster Bujold

... physician, sorcerer, divine? Which of his bewildering multiplicity of selves had laid itself down in such hope-starved humility? [loc. 1624]
Penric, at thirty, is quite different from the generally light-hearted protagonist of Penric and the Shaman and Penric's Fox. There have been several important changes -- only gradually revealed -- in his circumstances, and at the opening of this novella he's en route to Cedonia with letters from the Duke of Adria, who would like General Adelis Ariseydia to come and work for him.

Unfortunately, Penric is quickly betrayed and imprisoned. This novella is the story of his escape, and his attempt to save Ariseydia (and the general's charming widowed sister Nikys) from the doom that Penric believes himself partially responsible for bringing down upon them.

Of course it's not that straightforward. Ariseydia doesn't especially want to be rescued, at least not by this disreputable demon-ridden sorcerer; Penric's good deeds are driven by a well of misery; Desdemona's fierce protectiveness of her host is stronger, and more loving, than ever. And Penric's attitude to religion -- from cheerfully raiding temple strongboxes (an advance on his pay) to the miracles he'd rather nobody noticed -- is pragmatic, unfussy and mature.

I found the backstory as engrossing as the main plot -- and my major complaint is that the story simply stops, after a major and potentially disastrous confrontation. Luckily I was able to go straight on to Mira's Last Dance, which picks up immediately after the end of Penric's Mission.

2017/76: Mira's Last Dance -- Lois McMaster Bujold

Mira, what are you about? asked Penric in panic. Are you out of my mind?
Come, come, Penric ... We have sat through any number of your bedroom ventures over the years. Turnabout is fair play. She added after a moment, Also, you will learn some new things. That should appeal to the scholar in you. [loc. 778]
This novella follows directly from Penric's Mission, and will make little sense if read without knowledge of the events therein. It opens a few days later, with Penric recovering -- under the watchful eye of Nikys and the less physical, but no less concerned, attention of Desdemona -- from a near-fatal attack. He is still determined to see Adelis and Nikys to safety, or the nearest local equivalent: this involves overnight stays in a variety of unusual havens. Luckily Penric is accompanied by a ten-selved chaos demon, whose previous hosts (all female) have a range of talents -- while it's Desdemona's demonic pest-control skills that win the trio sanctuary in the town of Sosie, it's the long-dead courtesan Mira who makes their escape possible. With, of course, hilarious consequences -- sadly, these occur 'off-stage', but seem not nearly as dire as Penric initially fears.

Meanwhile, Pen and Nikys are circling one another, attracted but (in Nikys' case, at least) aware of a number of practical difficulties. 'When a woman marries a man, she marries his life. And it had better be the life she wants to lead'. And given Penric's own lack of direction -- it feels more than ever as though this mission may, paradoxically, have saved his life in removing him from an untenable situation -- as well as his demonic companion, one can understand that a woman who wants a quiet life might hesitate.

I enjoyed this a great deal, and am happy with the lack of romantic resolution: I do think Pen (and Desdemona) deserve happiness, but I didn't think it likely in this particular circumstance.

I read all five novellas in under a week, whilst in Helsinki in the sunshine: I feel Mira's Last Dance would have been a good place to stop for a while even if there were more books in the sequence -- which there aren't, yet. I shall look forward to encountering Penric and Desdemona again, though!

Friday, August 11, 2017

2017/74: Penric's Fox -- Lois McMaster Bujold

Did demons mourn? Oh, yes, breathed Des. It is not something we come into the world knowing, as elementals. But we learn. Oh, how we learn. [loc. 1662]
This novella begins some eight months after the events of Penric and the Shaman: Penric has become friends with Inglis, and is visiting him -- and trying to learn shamanic magic -- when both are sought out by Senior Locator Oswyl. A local sorceress has been murdered, and he needs to find the murderer. Penric, though, is more interested in the fate of the dead sorceress' demon ...

Bujold explores the system of shamanic magic, which also features in The Hallowed Hunt (a novel I confess I didn't get along with) throughout this novella. Penric's fascination -- he's still ravenous for knowledge -- is infectious, and I think Inglis' explanations are rather clearer than in the earlier work.

But what I found most interesting was the depiction of demon-host relationship(s) from the outside: not Penric and Desdemona (who would be the first to admit that they're not an exemplar of the phenomenon), but the murdered Learned Magal and her demon -- and that demon and their new host. We've previously only seen Desdemona as Penric sees her (as she allows herself to be seen), but the fate of Magal's demon makes her unusually forthcoming.

It was actually the publication of this novella -- and a friend's anticipatory delight -- that prompted me to start reading the 'Penric and Desdemona' series. Thanks, V!

Wednesday, August 09, 2017

2017/73: Penric and the Shaman -- Lois McMaster Bujold

I take my first duty to be to souls, not laws. And to learn as well as teach, or what else do the gods put us in this world for? [loc. 856]
Four years have passed since Penric acquired, or began to host, the chaos demon he calls Desdemona. Now a fully-fledged Divine of the Bastard's Order, he is living in the palace of the Princess-Archdivine Llewen, sorcerously crafting printing plates, and studying greedily.

This pleasant existence is interrupted by the arrival of Senior Locator Oswyl, who is in pursuit of a murderer and would like to avail himself of Penric's sorcerous skills. The victim had been friends with a shaman, who has disappeared: and so has the soul of the murdered man. In short, the shaman may have taken not only the man's life, but his ghost -- and his promised afterlife.

It's not quite that simple, of course. This novella opens with a chapter from the point of view of the shaman Inglis, injured in the snow and rescued by villagers who have secrets of their own. Inglis carries a heavy burden of guilt and grief.

I do like these novellas: they're gentle, thoughtful, often very funny, and they deal with some interesting features of Bujold's quintarian theology. Penric is rather less callow than in Penric's Demon, and his relationship with Desdemona has clearly evolved over the intervening years. Oswyl, an honourable and conscientious investigator, has burdens of his own, and at first finds Penric hard work. And Inglis, with his ambition, his damaged powers and his loneliness, is an intriguing character. Another enjoyable read.

Tuesday, August 08, 2017

2017/72: Penric's Demon -- Lois McMaster Bujold

When he glanced up at the mirror, his mouth said, “Yes, let’s get another look at you.” [loc. 331]
Penric kin Jurald, scion of a minor noble house, is on his way to his betrothal when he accidentally acquires a chaos demon.

There are a number of problems with this. Firstly, chaos demons are usually passed from Learned Divine to Learned Divine -- not from Learned Divine to clueless teenager. Secondly, this demon has had only female hosts before Pen. Thirdly, the acquisition of a chaos demon automatically makes one a sorcerer: and Pen knows nothing about sorcery. And fourthly... well, fourthly, Pen's body is home to a demon as well as to Pen himself, and nothing in his life so far has prepared him for this.

What makes all the difference -- and what makes this novella so charming -- is that Pen is a decent and compassionate young man. He grants 'his' demon a name -- Desdemona -- and attempts to get along with his unsought companion as best he can. With, it has to be said, some amusing consequences. But by the end of the novella -- after threats to both Penric and Desdemona -- it's clear that the two of them have a workable partnership.

Luckily Bujold has written more novellas in this sequence: they were the perfect post-con pick-me-up.

Monday, August 07, 2017

2017/71: The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. -- Neal Stephenson and Nicole Galland

Photography breaks magic by embalming a specific moment—one version of reality—into a recorded image. Once that moment is so recorded, then all other possible versions of that moment are excluded from the world that contains that photograph.” [p. 35]
I was really looking forward to reading this: perhaps that's why this is such a negative review, reflecting the depth of my disappointment.

The premise of the novel is simple: time travel exists, and magic existed in the past but fizzled out with the rise of industrialism, and especially photography. Our intrepid protagonists would like to bring magic back. Of course it is not that simple. 750 pages later ...

Sorry, where was I?

'You will thank me for sparing you the details' one character assures us early on, after brief mention of a database. This gave me hope that Stephenson might have refrained, or been persuaded to refrain from, his habit of wordy exposition. But reader, 'twas not to be: later on we get pages and pages depicting the effects of bureaucracy on a small, innovative startup. That this startup is commodifying time travel does not make the bureaucracy-mockery any more entertaining.

Some of the most egregious flaws:
- a character from the twenty-first century is stranded in Victorian London. She self-censors her 'modern' turns of phrase, and her obscenities, in a journal she believes will not be read for over a century. Why?
- a character from the sixteenth century is Irish. Naturally her letters home include phrases such as 'GrĂ¡inne it is who’s writing this' and 'I’m after meeting a gentleman' -- peppered with a plethora of 'sures' and 'indeeds'.
- very few of the characters get a physical description, except the blond blue-eyed 'hero'.
- many of the characters are from central casting (though I did rather enjoy the Vikings)
- a child is forced by her parents to cooperate in a ghastly scheme. She never mentions this to anyone, despite being quick to develop, and expound upon, any grudge.
- features a rather spineless Christopher Marlowe, who is then (possibly) removed from history. [GRRRRRRRR]
- Norwich is not actually in, or near, Surrey
- the ending. What ending?

It's not all bad. There is a rather good, entertaining, swashbuckling novel -- of probably around 250 pages -- cunningly secreted within this tome. (I am so thankful to have read it on Kindle: I doubt my wrists could take it in dead-tree format.) The Viking plan is neat; Melisande an interesting protagonist (more interesting than her male counterpart: perhaps it's Nicole Galland's input, but there are a lot more interesting women in this book than in Stephenson's other works); the tilting balance between science and magic interestingly analysed. It's made clear (repeatedly) that one can't tamper with the past and expect the present to remain unchanged. As the novel progresses, it emerges that there are multiple sides to the story; that DODO (Department of Diachronic Operations) is up against a number of antagonists, some with more skin in the game than others.

But it is too long, and I did not especially like any of the characters: and if I had had the actual book, rather than the e-book, I would have hurled it across the room when I came to THE END.

Adam Roberts liked it more than I did.