The Dragon DelaSangre, by Alan F. Troop (Roc, 2002)

Posted on by
Reply

Hidden away on a small island somewhere off the coast of Florida, near Miami, is a deadly, dangerous secret. The island is called Caya DelaSangre, the Blood Key, and for over four centuries it has been the home of a unique family, the DelaSangres. Now reduced to a mere two, father and son, they are not normal people. Rather, they are dragons, shapeshifters who soar the skies, hunt humans to satisfy their predatory cravings, and manipulate the lives of mortals out of necessity and whim. Once they were pirates; now they are business tycoons, running powerful companies from afar and owning more than anyone realizes.

Dom Henri DelaSangre grows ancient and weak, and his son, Peter, chafes at the thought of losing his last relative to time and lethargy. Peter, young by dragon standards, is also reckless, foolish, and more intrigued with human ways than is particularly wise. He knows less of his people’s ways than he should. And it’s all about to come crashing in upon him.

A scent on the wind. A natural instinct coming to life for the first time. The knowledge that he is not alone, that out there somewhere is a female dragon just come to maturity. A chance killing of a random waitress. The treacherous plottings of a trusted underling. The vengeance of a grief-stricken brother. The headlong discovery of entire aspects of dragon life that had long eluded him. It’ll all come together, and Peter’s life will be changed drastically.

It’s love and lust at first sight, when he meets and fights for Elizabeth Blood. And once he wins her, they’re destined to be together for the rest of their lives. He’ll teach her what he knows of human life, and she’ll reawaken all of his primal draconian instincts. Powerful, elemental, erotic and seductive, she’s everything he’s ever desired, encouraging him to give in to his dragon nature with frightening results. Peter will grow careless in her love, and in doing so, he’ll invite disaster close at hand.

Vengeance and love will collide, and not everyone will survive the tragic, inevitable results. Peter’s family, such a sure and beautiful thing, will be threatened the most, and for all of his power and might, he may not be able to save those he cares for above all.

The Dragon DelaSangre is a powerful, passionate, gripping tale that brings dragons into the modern era, granting them all the mystery, eroticism, and danger of vampires and werewolves. Alan F. Troop assuredly makes his mark on the field with this, his debut novel. If he can keep it up, he’ll be an author worth keeping an eye on in the future. Just when you think dragons are overdone and nothing new can be said about them, this book comes along to challenge that notion and put it in its place. Don’t ignore this one.

Summer Knight, by Jim Butcher (Roc, 2002)

Posted on by
Reply

Some days, it sucks to be Harry Dresden. In fact, some months it’s a bad day to be the only practicing wizard in the Chicago phonebook. And this just isn’t one of Harry’s better months. Thanks to the events of the previous book, Grave Peril, his girlfriend has left him, the Red Court of the vampires has started a war with the White Council of the wizards, and just about everyone wants his head on a platter. He’s overworked, overstressed, and rapidly going broke, faced with imminent eviction from home and office. The vampires want him (dead), the wizards don’t want him (in general), and the only case to cross his desk involves a rain of frogs and the capricious, deadly Winter Queen of Faerie. It seems that Harry’s faerie (literally!) godmother has sold Harry’s debt to Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness … and Mab’s ready to start calling the debt in.

So here’s Harry. Broke, exhausted, unshowered, running on empty emotionally and spiritually, and Mab wants him to investigate the murder of the Summer Knight. Congrats, Harry, you’ve just become the Winter Emissary, and a pawn in a very nasty, very dangerous game of power and balance between the Summer and Winter Courts. And the only pay is the (dubious) gratitude of the Queen who owns you — and the eventual hope of a possible release.

As if that wasn’t enough, the White Council is meeting to discuss certain … issues involving the vampires — and the man they blame for it all, Harry himself. If he screws things up again, they’ll boot him to the curb and tell the bloodsuckers where to find him. He only has a few real allies on the Council, and none of them can help him in this matter. But hey, he’s used to this sort of thing. Harry works best when his life is on the line and the stakes are as high as they can possibly get. So all he has to do is interview the various nobles of the Summer and Winter Courts, survive multiple assassination attempts, convince the White Council that he’s worthy of their ranks, deal with the long-lost love who betrayed him years ago, and still find a way to pay his rent. No problem.

One of the most endearing, and compelling, things about the Dresden Files series is that the protagonist is a genuinely likeable, admittedly flawed, human being. He’s a wizard, with a lab and a talking skull, true. He deals with werewolves, ghosts, and faeries, yes. But where it matters, in his heart and in his mind, he’s Joe Ordinary, who’d really, really like to grab a beer and relax now and again. Harry’s no Gandalf, living in an ivory tower and appearing from on high to spout mystic sayings and dire portents. His Latin (the official working language of the White Council) is atrocious, his spells sloppy (as he says, he tends to slop power and go for overkill), his manners questionable (they said he had to wear a robe to the meeting… so what if his bathrobe was all he had?), and his standing in constant doubt (there’s still a little debate about the legitimacy of his “entrance exams”). He has to worry about clean clothes, rent, food, and car repairs, just like the rest of us. His romantic life is a shambles, and his friends like to hang out and game on Fridays … when they’re not growing fur and howling at the moon. Where it counts, Harry is the sort of character one can actually empathize with, and care about. When he’s happy, we feel it. When he’s angry, we know it. And, oh yes, when he’s exhausted, the feelings ooze from the pages, so that you’ll actually cheer when Harry finally gets a chance to shower and change clothes. It’s the little things…

The Faerie in this series are capricious, unknowable, powerful and downright scary, highly reminiscent of the ones in War For The Oaks or Tam Lin. The games they play really aren’t for mortals; to be caught up in their machinations is not something one hopes for. They mix sensuality and power, desire and terror, and manage to stay on the other side of familiar, so we’re never truly comfortable with them in the room. Where Laurell K. Hamilton thrusts us up close and personal with the Fey in her Merry Gentry series, and Mercedes Lackey removes a layer of the mystique in her Bedlam Bards series, Butcher keeps his creatures of Faerie on the outside.

Despite having four books out now, Jim Butcher is still a fairly new, up-and-coming author, who’s clearly still hitting his stride. That is to say, he’s moving from damned good to excellent, and from excellent to fantastic. Each book is self-contained, but building upon the ones before it, so that the long-time readers are rewarded time and again with new revelations about Harry’s past, new tidbits about the world he’s created, and new threats. There’s the feeling that something big is looming on the horizon, and considering what Harry’s already been through, it must be epic.

The Dresden Files is one of the best urban fantasy series out there, and if you haven’t tried it yet, I highly urge you to give it a shot. It combines the best aspects of fantasy, magic realism, and noir sensibility … as if Emma Bull and Ross McDonald had produced an illegitimate love child, and appointed Charles de Lint as his godfather.

Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones (Written and Directed by George Lucas, 2002)

Posted on by
Reply

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a man took a whole slew of mythic elements and cultural themes and wove them into one of the great stories of the 20th Century: The farm boy, ignorant of his true origins, who ultimately becomes a great hero; The rogue with a grudging heart of gold and his beastly side-kick; The beautiful princess in distress who is quite capable of fighting for herself, thank you; The fallen hero in black who redeems himself at the very end, after defeating the evil Emperor;

A rebellion against a corrupt empire. Derring-do, swash-buckling heroics, fights galore and, throughout it all, the theme of good versus evil. The original Star Wars trilogy blew away all records and resonated with an entire generation. Decades later, the visionary who took all those old elements from myth and pulp adventures, returned to tell what might be the greatest story of a hero’s fall in centuries.

Star Wars: Episode I had a lot to live up to. Its sequel, the middle of the projected trilogy, following the rise and fall of Anakin Skywalker, later known as Darth Vader, has even more to live up to. The hype surrounding this movie was less than for Episode I, with far fewer tie-ins and merchandising. The stakes were higher. After this, only one film remains, and we know how it all ends up, right?

Episode II – Attack of the Clones is an extraordinarily ambitious project that has had a critical spotlight on it from the second it was planned. The big question is, is it any good?

Yes … and no. Where Episode II is concerned, when it’s good, it’s fantastic. When it’s bad, it klunks resoundingly.

I see Episode II as two different movies unwittingly woven together, not entirely of their own free will. The first plot, and by far the more engaging, is the roller-coaster investigation of a pair of Jedi Knights into an assassination attempt. Our old friends Obi-Wan Kenobi (as masterfully played by Ewan MacGregor as in Episode I, filling as he does the legendary shoes of Sir Alec Guinness) and his apprentice, a teenaged Anakin Skywalker (played here by Hayden Christensen) are appointed to protect former Queen and now Senator for Naboo, Padme Amidala (Natalie Portman reprising the role from the previous movie). As bodyguards, they’re overkill. As investigators, they’re in over their heads. Conspiracy after plot after manipulation is revealed, as the trio, accompanied by faithful droid R2-D2, leave the Republic’s capital planet of Coruscant, splitting up to pursue different leads. Bounty hunters, clones, battle droids, aliens, armies, and even Dark Side Jedi, the dreaded Sith, await them. This is by far the more interesting of the plots, building as it does upon each new revelation, taking our heroes from the cloud-penetrating heights of Coruscant to the quiet beauty of Naboo to the deserts of Tatooine to the storm-churned oceans of one planet and a climatic showdown on yet another world.

The second plot is the romance building between Anakin and Amidala, a romance forbidden by the Jedi Order and by common sense. He’s sworn to protect the galaxy, and she’s a politician. She’s older than him by several years, and he’s struggling with teenage hormones. He’s rash, head-strong, moody, and prone to bucking authority. She’s destined to play a pivotal part in the future of the Republic. He’s just her bodyguard. Right? Well, Episode II -was- billed as a romance, and it’s absolutely no secret whatsoever that the two of them are to fall in love. So watching them actually do it is like watching a play to which you know every word. There’s no real mystery, except ‘how long will it take, and who will give in first?’ This plot is slow and feels out of place at times, forced at others, with Anakin spouting dialogue so painful it’s no wonder the Jedi Masters were wincing back on Coruscant. Amidala isn’t entirely sure what she wants, but she looks like she’d rather be dealing with political infighting rather than a tempestuous teenager with a crush and a burgeoning God complex. (“Someday I’ll be the most powerful Jedi of all!” he rages at one point. “It’s all Obi-Wan’s fault! He’s just jealous!” at another.)

For the most part, the separate plots go their own ways, with Obi-Wan playing swash-buckling galactic investigator, fighting bounty hunter Jango Fett (father of the much less talkative Boba Fett of the original trilogy) and journeying to distant planets on the strength of a hunch, and Anakin and Amidala enjoying a romantic getaway on Naboo before taking a detour to Tatooine to wrap up some old business, pick up an old friend, and set the stage for some familial background. Ultimately, it all comes together in a battle featuring a cast of thousands.

Highlights include Christopher Lee’s performance as the scheming Count Dooku, Samuel L. Jackson as the Jedi Master Mace Windu, and Frank Oz as everyone’s favorite little green guy, Yoda. Folks, in this movie Yoda earns his keep with some serious moves. We’re talking Muppet meets Matrix, a Hong Kong action cinema puppet with a light saber and a mission. Who’s the man? Yoda’s the man. But enough said.

Acting-wise, Ewan MacGregor is in superb form, handling the dry wit and exasperated authority of Obi-Wan with tremendous skill. Comparatively, Hayden Christensen doesn’t seem to know entirely what to do with himself. Either he’s spouting anguished lines of love to Amidala, or he’s indulging in over-the-top angst and rebellion with Obi-Wan. He doesn’t seem quite comfortable in the role, and shifts from wooden to over-acting regularly. Natalie Portman does the best she can with her role, looking vaguely decorative and bored for the first two-thirds of the movie, and then coming alive as soon as she’s given a gun and something productive to do. From then on, she’s having a blast, and blasting everything in sight. Ian McDiarmid, as the manipulating Chancellor Palpatine, seems to be genuinely enjoying himself, playing the subtle villain for all he’s worth. Temuera Morrison is both doting father and hardened bounty hunter, perfect for the role of Jango Fett, carrying it with sophistication and savagery. All in all, it’s quite the talented cast, with only a few misfires along the way.

The special effects and CGI in this movie are absolutely top-notch. Alien scenery, bizarre races, deadly creatures, massive armies, planet-wide storms, chaotic meteor fields, and light saber duels are all rendered in full-color full-reality detail. The decades George Lucas has put into having his studios develop this technology has paid off, making this a visually stunning film that’s sure to take home a few awards. The cinematography is exquisite, taking our heroes on dizzying drops, throwing them into deadly battles, hurling them over the sides of mile-high buildings, and sending them across distant fields. The music is typically evocative, John Williams giving us both the old, familiar Star Wars fanfare and new themes that address the movie’s progress. Though at times it’s a bit over the top, his work has been so identified with the series, it wouldn’t be Star Wars without him.

For those who are worried, you may relax. Jar-Jar Binks -does- appear, but his screen-time is limited to a few key scenes. Of course, that’s not much of an assurance that he won’t accidentally doom the Republic by tripping over someone… The “cute kid” quota is met by Daniel Logan, who pulls off a darkly handsome, sullen, tousle-haired moppet known better as Boba Fett. The kid is good with those soulful looks and loathsome glares, and we see a hint of the man he’ll become late in the movie.

Overall? Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones is a damned fine film. Visually, it’s extraordinary. Plot-wise, it meanders and clunks like a Yugo in city traffic. Like the rumored “edit” of Episode I that some clever person did to excise Jar-Jar, I foresee someone cutting out 95% of the Anakin/Amidala subplot to streamline this movie into an action-packed intrigue. Sit through the bad parts, and you’ll be rewarded by the end, which answers some questions, and opens the floodgates for a lot more.

Episode III is the one that will decide who lives, who dies, and who takes home the gold. Fans of Star Wars will undoubtedly want to see it. Those teetering on the fence, you’ve been informed. Episode II is both a very good movie, and a clumsy one. Go see it, and have a blast.

Spider-Man (2002, Directed by Sam Raini, Created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko)

Posted on by
Reply

With great power comes great responsibility. It’s the guiding mantra behind one of the 20th Century’s greatest heroes. But before he was a hero, he was a young man. A confused teenager like every other, with a crush on the most beautiful girl in school, a loving family, and a reputation as a loser, geek, nerd… you name it.

Spider-Man reinvents the classic comic book character for the big screen, remaining as faithful as possible to the source material. We follow the evolution and growth of Peter Parker from tormented geek to daring hero. All the classic elements are in here. He’s bitten by a genetically-manipulated spider (it was radioactive in the comics), and his body chemistry is radically rewoven, granting him (proportionately) the powers of a spider: super-strength, flexibility and acrobatics, a near-psychic ‘spider-sense’ to warn him of danger, the ability to spin webs from his wrists. He’s still being raised by his loving Aunt May and Uncle Ben, with whom he’s lived ever since his parents died in a plane crash early in his life. There’s the prettiest girl in school, Mary Jane Watson, who dreams of becoming an actress. There’s the class bully, Flash Thompson, football hero. There’s even Harry Osborn, rich kid with overbearing businessman father Norman.It’s all there: The spider. The public appearance of Spider-Man as celebrity. The burglar. The death of someone important to Peter. The vengeance he seeks that changes into a need for justice. The red and blue costume. And the maniacal, deadly Green Goblin, who circles Peter and Spider-Man, capturing them both in a web of his own design, threatening to kill our hero if he doesn’t join the Goblin.

Long-time readers of the comics will be familiar with the Goblin’s origin. For those not in the know about who lives, who dies, who the Goblin is, and who lives happily ever after, I won’t spill the beans. I will say this: Spider-Man hits the mark. It is easily one of the best comic book derived movies ever, taking the source material faithfully, adapting it only where one needs to compress and distill forty years of back story down into one story. This is actually a mixture of two classic Spidey story lines, his origin, and the Death of Gwen Stacy. For those of you scratching your head and wondering who Gwen Stacy is or was, don’t worry… She’s dead.

This is one of those movies that couldn’t have been done properly without the advances made in CGI and special effects. Thanks to technology, Spider-Man finally moves like he should: fast, agile, triple-jointed, almost alien in his patterns and flexibility. The Goblin, in his technologically-enhanced suited and ominous glider, is equally impressive. We can follow their aerial battles, or even just the sheer adrenalin rush of swinging at breakneck speed through the city canyons on a thin strand of webbing, and feel like part of the action.

Yes, where Spider-Man hits the mark is with faithfulness, story, and image. It bogs down here and there with improbable coincidences (how can one person have so much bad luck in his life?) but such things have always been part of the story. Sure, questions arise, like what about the -other- genetically-enhanced spiders, the ones that didn’t bite anyone? But hey, no film is perfect.

Willem Dafoe is perfect as Norman Osborn, conveying a bizarre sense of duality and growing, desperate madness as the story progresses, eerily reminiscent of Jack Nicholson’s performance as the Joker in Batman. He really does manage to portray fatherly love and cold detachment with equal aplomb, and when he goes all out as his alter ego, he goes all out.

Tobey Macguire does a credible, even enjoyable job as Peter Parker/Spider-Man. He definitely pulls off the geek-turned-hero vibe quite nicely, capturing that spirit of adventurous joy that comes with someone given a release for their emotions for the first time in their life. He may need to grow into the part, but he has the basic spirit down.

Kirsten Dunst does nicely as Mary Jane Watson, although she never quite throws herself into the role with the zeal needed to carry off the devil-may-dance attitude of the comic book variation, but she doesn’t disgrace the role either. Given more time, she’ll undoubtedly sizzle in the role. Unfortunately, the chemistry between Peter Parker and Mary Jane never quite works for me. There’s something a little wooden, as though they don’t connect on the level they should, quite yet. That’s okay. In the comics, it took months before the two even met, and years before that spark truly came to life. The interaction between Peter Parker and Norman Osborn, and Spider-Man and the Green Goblin, is much more intense.

J.K. Simmons, as J. Jonah Jameson, irate newspaper publisher and Peter’s sometimes boss, is dead-on perfect for the role in terms of looks and attitude. This is the Jolly Jonah we’re used to, the one dismissing the pictures as crap, but buying them anyway and taking Peter on as a freelance photographer. Thus setting up the irony: Peter takes pictures of Spider-Man and sells them, while J.J.J. uses the pictures to terrorize and blast Spider-Man in the Daily Bugle. Some days you can’t win.

Cliff Robertson, as the fatherly Uncle Ben, and Rosemary Harris, as the sweet but occasionally frail Aunt May, do justice to the roles, as does James Franco as Harry Osborn, Peter’s friend and later roommate.

Overall, I loved Spider Man. Where it’s good, it’s very very good. Where it falls down, it doesn’t so much disappoint as it fails to match the rest of the movie. As far as pure story goes, it’s primal Spider-Man, essence of character boiled down for a new audience, and that’s what matters. Go see this and have some good old-fashioned superheroic fun.

Spider-Man, by Peter David (Ballantine, 2002)

Posted on by
Reply

The story has become a modern day myth. A young man is granted extraordinary powers through a chance accident, and becomes one of the greatest heroes of his generation. Twist it a little, and it could be a Greek myth, or an Arthurian legend.

But instead, this is a new myth, one for the 20th century, concerning part of a new pantheon of brightly colored gods.

How many people don’t know the basics of the Spider-Man origin? Peter Parker, left an orphan after the death of his parents, moves in with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben, who raise him as though he were their own child. Weak, bespectacled, considered a geek and a nerd by his classmates, he takes refuge in science and school. Then, one day, he’s bitten by a radioactive spider, and his world changes.

He’s granted the proportionate powers of the spider: strength, speed, agility, the ability to stick to walls, a mysterious sixth sense warning him of danger, even the ability to spin superstrong webs. Fashioning a gaudy costume, he first tries to go into show business, but all of that falls by the wayside after a moment of selfishness on his part lets a burglar escape … a burglar who later kills Peter’s beloved Uncle Ben.

In a single instant, Spider-Man dedicates his life to heroism, under the motto, “With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.” And decades later, he’s one of Marvel Comics’ best-loved and most popular characters, the star of comics, TV, and now film.

The book in question, Spider-Man, is the official novelization of the soon-to-be-released major motion picture starring Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, and Willem Dafoe, directed by Sam Raini. The hype has been huge, the anticipation great, especially after the popularity of the last two films based on Marvel comic books: X-Men and Blade.

I have to say, Peter David was a perfect choice for taking on the task of turning the movie about a comic character into a successful novel. Spider-Man is essentially two steps removed from his origins at this point, having been run through the filter of a screenplay and then into prose form. This isn’t your parents’ Spider-Man. This is a reinvention and reexamination from the ground up. Not having seen the movie, I can’t judge how true he is to that presentation, but that doesn’t matter. Peter David turns in one of the finest, most pure interpretations of Spider-Man done in the past few decades.

The characters are all there, and recognizable: Peter Parker. Aunt May. Uncle Ben. Mary Jane Watson. Norman Osborn. Flash Thompson. J. Jonah Jameson. Familiar names all to those who follow the comic. Well, let’s just say that if I wanted to start someone on the character, I could do little better than to give him a copy of this book. Now only does Peter David hit the characters just right, he gives them depth, going into details above and beyond what the movie can convey. Aunt May is caring, a little frail, but tough enough to take care of a rambunctious teenager. Mary Jane is the beautiful, carefree girl everyone wants, hiding her pain deep within. Harry Osborn desperately seeks his father’s approval, even as Norman descends into madness. Peter struggles with loneliness and guilt, and then the confusion and later euphoria of his newfound powers.

The action scenes are pure gold, as cinematic as if they truly were on the big screen. You can see yourself right there in the middle of things.

The only drawback, and this isn’t even a drawback at all, is that Peter David, long known for his humorous writing, slips in no few in-jokes, in the form of sly comments or cleverly named supporting characters. For those in the know, it’s a forehead-slapping moment. For those not in the know, it’s a tiny speedbump. However, we can allow the author his minor quirks, in exchange for such a good story. He spent quite some time writing Spider-Man comics, and it’s obvious he hasn’t lost that innate feel for the character.

I can’t comment too much on the plot without giving away what I assume will be the plot of the movie. But all the basics are there, and Peter David has accomplished the unenviable task of turning a novelization into a true novel.

Spider-Man is one of the best looks at the character I’ve seen in a long time. Rebuilt and streamlined from the ground up, this is pure modern-day myth featuring several gods of the pop culture pantheon. I’m well and truly looking forward to the movie.

Sorcery Rising, by Jude Fisher (DAW, 2002)

Posted on by
Reply

Everyone comes to the Allfair…

Held on the supposedly neutral area of the Moonfell Plain, the Allfair is a time for trading and exhibitions, games and competition, dealmaking and negotiation. The independent Norsemen of Eyra come in their longships, ready to trade sardonyx for silver, contract for ships, take part in games. The repressive lords of the south, the Istrians, come to show off their own finery, to contract for wives, scheme and dicker, and play a long-standing game of one-upmanship with their enemies of old. The Footloose, vagabonds and travelers, nomads who journey across the world, have come to sell their minor charms of ill-tolerated magic, to tell stories and entertain in song and dance.

Saro Vingo, younger son of an Istrian lord, has journeyed to the Allfair with his father, to help take care of the horses which are their pride. He dislikes his flamboyant, cruel brother, Tanto, and thinks little of his demanding father. But family loyalty comes first. Katla Aransen, already renowned at the age of nineteen for her exquisite weaponsmithing, has come with her family from Eyra to sell her weapons. She would do anything for her family, but a streak of independence runs deep with her. Ravn Asharson, King of the North, has come to find a bride, to choose from the myriad daughters of Eyran shipbuilders and merchants, or Istrian lords. And the mysterious albino sorcerer known as Virelai has journeyed with the Footloose, along with a strange black cat which holds unspeakable magic, and Rosa Eldi, Rose of the World, a woman of compelling beauty and capable of inspiring great lusts. These people and more have come to the Allfair, and their paths will collide in violent, unexpected ways.

Magic is returning to the world…

It starts off badly. Katla inadvertently commits an act of extreme sacrilege in the eyes of the Istrians, one which could earn her death. Forced to hide and disguise her appearance, she still persists in trying to enjoy the fair. Meanwhile, she’s attracted other attentions. Istrian lords plot amongst themselves, jockeying for money and prestige. Virelai sells maps leading to the fabled island of Sanctuary, gambling his own future and freedom on the manipulation of others. But can he sell something which isn’t truly his, something such as Rosa Eldi? Lord Tycho of the Istrians is willing to find out, and he’ll even trade upon his own daughter’s future as a result.

The pieces are all in motion. As separate paths begin to overlap, and magic simmers beneath the surface, and mysteries make themselves known, the Allfair becomes tense and violent, leading to a random death. This in turn leads to more chaos and tension, until finally, on the night when King Ravn is to choose his bride, everything erupts, plunging the Allfair into unprecedented hostilities. Seduction turns into assault, assault into flight, flight into rescue, rescue into capture, capture into burning, as one man’s inability to control his lusts dooms numerous others to a new path. Before it’s over, the King will have his bride, a traitor will be killed, fortunes will be won and lost, and Katla herself will be in mortal danger.

But it doesn’t end there, for this is the tip of the iceberg. Something ancient and evil is stirring, and it seeks freedom. It seeks the return of its long lost sister. It seeks revenge. If Katla survives the events of the night, she may never be whole. Virelai’s manipulations may just enslave himself. And war is on the horizon.

Sorcery is rising…

Sorcery Rising is an excellent beginning to an epic fantasy story, filled with intricate plotting, complex conspiracies, devious maneuvering, affairs of the heart and body, visceral combat, and lush imagery. It manages to mix the ferocious toughness of the North with the repressive theocratic patriarchy of the Middle East, evoking both old Norse myth and the exotic lure of the Arabian Nights for a severe, yet compelling culture clash. That it can set up so much and keep things from getting overcrowded is a good sign; that I finished and immediately wanted more is a better sign. Jude Fisher is already well-known for her status as the worldwide editor for J.R.R. Tolkien’s works; she was also associated with Peter Jackson’s adaptation of the Lord of the Rings trilogy for the big screen. She has been associated with the British science fiction industry for nearly two decades, and in Sorcery Rising she demonstrates that she’s more than up for the challenge of writing epic fantasy, not just editing it. This is a series to look out for, and I highly recommend it. Let’s hope the sequel is on the horizon.

Season of Sacrifice, by Mindy L. Klasky (Roc, 2002)

Posted on by
Reply

For untold generations, the People have dwelled on the far shores known as the Headland of Slaughter. They want little to do with the strange customs of the inland folk, content to live apart and peacefully, fishing and hunting as necessary, trading only for a few essentials. They are watched over by the Guardians, each of whom represents a specific classical element (earth, fire, air, water, and spirit), and they revere the Mother, who in turn is represented by an ancient oak known simply as the Great Tree.

To the woodsinger is given the task of caring for the Great Tree. She becomes one with it in many ways, responsible for singing the events of the day, both great and little, to it. For sharing her memories with the tree. For channeling the ritual and power of belief that links the People through the generations. The current woodsinger is Alana, a young woman still coming to terms with her powers and responsibilities, struggling with the weight of the ages and the fresh memory of her lost father. She possesses the power of song, the accumulated wisdom of the woodsingers before her, and an enormous sense of duty. She’s going to need every ounce of strength before her People survive the ordeal about to befall them, though.

When Duke Coren visits from the inland, trading and expressing curiosity about the ways of the People, it’s Alana who initially trusts him, and shows him around. When Duke Coren’s men treacherously turn upon the People and steal away two of their children, it’s Alana who must rise to the challenge. The People send out a healer, a tracker, and a hunter to follow the kidnapped children. Their link to the People and their past comes in the form of a magical bavin, a part of the Great Tree sung for them by Alana. They’ll journey inland, and discover a world that fears and distrusts them, betrayed by Coren’s lies, defeated by his forces. And when they fall, Alana herself will set forth to make things right.

What the People discover is that they’ve become pawns in a political conspiracy inspired by centuries-old events. The kidnapped twins are symbolic, and very important to a ceremony that could unite the land … or divide it. The fate of the kingdom rests upon the actions of a small handful of people. So what happens when the kidnapped children don’t want to be rescued after all? And when one of the People joins Duke Coren’s plot?

Alana Woodsinger will use every bit of power and skill in her possession to restore the lost children to their home, to reunite the People, and to protect the Great Tree. But it won’t be enough, and a terrible sacrifice is going to have to be made…

Season of Sacrifice is typical of Mindy Klasky. It starts off as one story, in this case an almost traditional quest story, and soon metamorphoses into a complex, multilayered tapestry of culture clash and political intrigue. The slow alienation and seduction of the kidnapped children is fascinating to witness, as they start out defiantly and slowly come around to a new way of thinking. The culture clash experienced by Duke Coren with the People, and the People as they journey into strange lands, is just as interesting.

This is one of those books where the plot is too convoluted and intricate to explain in full without revealing way too much. Suffice it to say that the levels of interaction between the People and the inlanders, between the children and their captors, between various political factions and the priesthood, and the way in which they’re all tied together create a page-turning, rollercoaster ride. Alana grows in confidence and maturity as she guides first her fellow People and then herself through the quest. And in the end, though sacrifices must be made for the good of all, it still turns out in a way that’ll satisfy.

Season of Sacrifice is a good, entertaining stand-alone novel that takes a fresh look at the way two distinctly different cultures clash, yet rely upon one another, and how they relate where it counts. My only quibble is that once you start trying to describe it, there’s a lot of generic names. The People. The Guardians. The Great Tree. The Mother. Throwing in a name like the Headlands of Slaughter goes a long way towards rectifying this, but I wouldn’t have minded seeing some more original, memorable names. There can only be so many Peoples, after all, even if each People is the one and only People.

Ultimately, I do recommend this book, and continue to look forward to more of Mindy Klasky’s writing.

Sacred Fire, by Charles de Lint (From The Hunger) (Television, 1999; DVD 2000)

Posted on by
Reply

The freaks are out there. They look like everyday people, masquerading as the homeless, the crazies, the street people.

They lurk on the street corners, warm themselves around garbage can fires, and watch for certain people, the ones with the brightest inner fires. They hunt them, suck the life from them, kill them horribly. The freaks are out there, and if you’re not watching carefully, you’ll miss the odd way they look at you, and the way their skin stretches unnaturally…

Nicky Straw (played by James Marshall, best known for his role as biker James Hurley on the show Twin Peaks) is one of the very few people unfortunate enough to know the freaks exist. They killed his wife. They killed his child. They’re after him.

Only by killing them first can he survive, but the struggle has taken a terrible toll on his life and sanity.

Luann Somerson (Kim Huffman) is an old friend of Nicky’s from college, who finds him on the street and takes him in to her apartment, building upon happier memories of younger days. She’s just come out of a relationship, and in her loneliness, she finds the need for company. But it blinds her to the unsettlingly manner in which Nicky watches the people around him. Soon, though, it becomes clear that Nicky has a dangerous secret, living in a world of kill or be killed. Street people are being stabbed to death. Is he a potential victim, or is he the killer? And what happens when Luann’s comfortable world is shattered by the knowledge that the freaks are, indeed, real?

Adapted from the Charles de Lint short story of the same name, Sacred Fire was produced as an episode of the anthology television series, The Hunger, and first showed in 1999. A horror/dark fantasy series initially hosted by Terence Stamp and then David Bowie, The Hunger takes dark, twisted looks at the world around us. Four episodes, including Sacred Fire, are collected in the DVD release, The Hunger: Soul Snatcher.

I have to say, it certainly wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d grown so used to thinking of de Lint in terms of his beautiful and magical urban faerie tales and otherworldly excursions, that I’d forgotten just how dark and grim some of his stories can be, even the ones set in Newford. Sacred Fire is certainly no exception. It’s bleak, unforgiving, and downbeat, portraying the futile struggle of a man grasping at his last shreds of sanity, and the slow destruction of a woman’s blissful ignorance. It’s a story about the predators of the world, and the fact that once you’ve been exposed to them, you’ll never feel entirely safe again. It’s the flip side for every story in which someone finds magic and turns out the better. Sacred Fire is an evocation of the dark side of the world.

The story itself was altered for the screenplay. It takes longer for Luann to discover the truth about Nicky and the freaks. They grow a lot closer. The bond they shared in that college English class is expanded upon. Nicky’s wife and daughter are explored in some small detail. But all in all, it captures the feel, the essence of the story with a knife-sharp vividity.

Was I entirely satisfied? Not quite. But that’s mainly because I’m used to seeing Newford as magical. Sacred Fire takes us down into Crowsea and the Tombs, the dead part of the city where monsters and homeless congregate and eke out a living. It’s dark, and dreary, grey and oppressive. Winter’s fallen upon this city, and brought a chill wind. The visuals for this story are gritty and realistic, unsparing of our feelings. Still, Charles de Lint says, “When I saw the initial broadcast of The Sacred Fire I particularly liked how they brought to life Crowsea and the parts of Newford bordering on the Tombs.” When the author is pleased with the visuals, that says something good about the adaptation.

Filmed with sharp MTV-style breakaway flashback sequences, jittery visions, and minimal special effects (for the freaks’ true appearances, and the fire in certain characters’ eyes), The Hunger has that edgy, daring feel to it, which may detract from the simple horror of the story itself.

Kim Huffman is splendid in her role as a young woman inspired to help out with the homeless and to aid an old friend. She mixes quiet charm, optimism, and loneliness in perfect measures, making her sense of betrayal and vulnerability at the end all the more believable. James Marshall turns in a satisfying performance as a man who’s seen and done horrible things in his time, and who’s clearly at the end of his road.

While there are so many more de Lint stories I’d love to see adapted for television or film, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sacred Fire is a highly satisfactory translation from book to film, and recommended.

Preacher: Dead or Alive, by Glenn Fabry (DC Comics/Vertigo, 2000)

Posted on by
Reply

Imagine you’re an artist, and you’ve been given a very unusual task. Create eye-catching, evocative comic book covers, month in and month out for a new series. The main characters include a hitwoman, a vampire, a preacher possessed by the Word of God, an unstoppable killing machine fueled by divine wrath and mortal hate, a conspiracy to take over the world, and God Himself.

You’re working in conjunction with a mad British writer who seems to possess an unending supply of mad ideas and bizarre genius, who asks the impossible over and over.

Congratulations! You’re Glenn Fabry, and this is your book.

Preacher was a series that ran for 66 regular issues, plus assorted one-shots and miniseries. The main character, Jesse Custer, was a reverend on the run from his past who was inexplicably possessed by a power neither divine nor infernal. His girlfriend and love of his life was Tulip, on the run from a failed hit. Their friend and constant companion was Cassidy, a hard-drinking Irish vampire. Jesse’s quest: to find the AWOL God and make Him account for the state of life as we know it. But there were a few snags.

Jesse’s evil grandmother. The unstoppable seven-foot-tall killing machine known as the Saint of Killers, straight out of a Wild West that never was. Herr Starr and the Grail, a secret organization dedicated to controlling the world through the last of Christ’s bloodline, now horribly inbred. Angels, demons, and God Himself.

And they persevered through all manner of bizarre things, until the final bloody end, where almost no one got out alive.

Throughout all this, Gleen Fabry provided uniquely fitting, often disturbing, always fantastical cover paintings. No matter what the challenge, he rose to it. Over the run of Preacher, he turned out dozens of memorable, powerful covers to depict the mythic quest of a man in search of his creator, and a man in search of redemption. Jesse Custer remains powerfully rugged, a hero inspired by the myth of the Wild West. Tulip is strong and independent, beautiful but not gorgeous. Cassidy ranges from devilish to seductive as he personifies all the dark, sometimes romantic, aspects of being a vampire. The Saint of Killers, who’s like a Wild West campfire nightmare come to life, is never anything less than unrelentingly scary.

The cover for the last issue of the series is especially beautiful, depicting a man about to “slap leather” gunfighter style, standing off against the entire Hosts of Heaven in a high noon showdown like none other. The shot of Jesse reflected against the black marble of the Vietnam Memorial is also quite striking. The painting of Cassidy throwing himself carelessly, joyfully, from the Empire State Building has a certain devil-may-care aspect to it.

Sometimes inspired, sometimes blasphemous, sometimes as twisted as a Hieronymous Bosch painting, each cover is lovingly reproduced in this handsome hardback collection from DC Comics, which previously gave the same treatment for Sandman cover artist Dave McKean. Each one is accompanied by commentary by Glenn Fabry, as well as series writer Garth Ennis, as they explain what they were going for, and how it worked, or didn’t work. There’re reproductions for every cover of every issue in the series, including the one-shots and miniseries, as well as unused covers, initial design sketches, and promo pieces.

At $29.95, it’s a bit steep for a hardcover art book, but it’s well worth it in my opinion. Like Dave McKean, Glenn Fabry was called upon to interpret and redesign a whole host of mythic characters. Preacher is one of those series that is destined to be remembered for a long time to come, and Preacher: Dead or Alive celebrates the visual aspects of this, quite gleefully. It may not be to everyone’s liking, especially as some of the art is quite … twisted, though never obscene, and the language is definitely for mature audiences only. But as collections of this sort go, the production values are extremely high, and the material strange and mythic enough to warrant attention.

Never After, by Rebecca Lickiss (Ace, 2002)

Posted on by
Reply

When a prince, a princess, and a wizard all set out to fulfill their separate goals, their destinies become irrevocably entwined, turning a simple quest into a hilarious, baffling, unpredictable tale of magical curses and royalty that isn’t.

All Athelstan wants is to marry a princess, a true princess. Given that the only one he’s aware of is two years old (there’s a slight deficit of princesses in the area), he follows the tale of an enchanted castle and a sleeping princess. But when he arrives, he finds that the tale is both true and false, and some…irregularities have cropped up. Like the triplet-princes — who must be awoken in order to break the spell….

What his cousin Vevila wants is to get away from it all, and find adventure. NOT to be married off to some boring old suitor. When Athelstan recruits her help in her official role as a princess to help him get what he wants, she sees a way out of her own predicament…and ends up over her head.

Meanwhile, the mighty wizard Mazagian and friends are looking for work and wealth. They see Athelstan’s plan as a way to get ahead in the world, even if it means short-cutting through a folktale or two. But when Mazagian ends up cursed, they realize it’s not as easy as it seems. For a fairy godmother/evil witch (depending on whom you ask), the one behind the enchanted castle and its eternally slumbering inhabitants, will do anything to protect the prince(s) she cares for. And she’ll be putting our heroes through trials and tribulations aplenty before they’re done.

Toss in assorted kings and queens, no less than six young women who may — or may not — be princesses, six dozen or so princes, twenty mattresses, twenty beds, twenty silk sheets, one magic-wielding, gold-spinning dwarf, a Wicked Stepmother, an enchanted frog, one very disgruntled castle guard, a pumpkin, a cat, some mice, some goats, an army, and oh yes… a happily ever after, and you have the trimmings for Rebecca Lickiss’ second novel, Never After. She takes some of the best-known, best-loved fairy tales around, and throws them into the metaphorical blender, producing the sort of fairy tale mishagosh that hasn’t been seen since John Moore’s Slay and Rescue, the TV miniseries Tenth Kingdom, or Steven Sondheim’s musical Into The Woods. The sources are all familiar: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, The Frog Prince, The Princess and the Pea, but here we see the illogical, entertaining result if all of those stories happened to the same people, at the same time.

Never After is successful on numerous levels. Not only is it clever and entertaining, managing to convey a feeling of chaos and confusion rather like that of a British sitcom, full of sly self-awareness (even the witch acknowledges that folktales have to follow certain rules, but they can be bent out of alignment), but it’s genuinely good-natured. Even the bad guys in this tale act more out of enlightened self-interest than any true malice. More importantly, no one just sits around and waits for rescue; the potential princesses are stubborn and independent enough to effect their own rescues, however many times it’s required of them. The wizards are powerful, but not infallible, the prince is heroic but not the One True Hero of the Story.

Even if you think you know how the story will end, don’t be so sure. Even the most likely of outcomes is in doubt, the more so as things happen with a faster, more frenetic pace. By the end, the whole house of cards collapses in a manner bound to satisfy even the most demanding of fairy tale enthusiasts. This actually succeeds in the unenviable task of finding a new way to tell familiar tales, and making it enjoyable. It’s light and breezy, but at the same time intelligent and witty, appropriate for a wide range of audiences. Rebecca Lickiss truly hits the mark with this book, proving that she’s a talent here to stay, with plenty to contribute. This is a more than satisfactory followup to Eccentric Circles , all the more so for not giving in to the temptation to descend into pure farce, as she so easily could have done with the set-up. Don’t pass this book up if you like fantasy or fairy tales.