Pens and Swords » Reviews

My Review of The Shard Axe

Kameron — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 14:00:22 +0000

It is my general policy not to review the work of my peers, a lesson I learned the hard way back while writing Maiden of Pain. However, I won a copy of The Shard Axe by Marsheila Rockwell when I commented on a recent article she wrote about media tie-in fiction, and was asked by the contest sponsors to write a review. I am, therefore, temporarily suspending my policy to fulfill that obligation.

Let me start by saying how much I admire Marcy. She humbles me with her productivity and her resilience in the face of the many personal trials she and her family have suffered and continue to endure. I am also a stalwart fan of many of her poems and short stories. I enjoyed her first novel, Legacy of Wolves, and looked forward to her next excursion into the world of Eberron. When it comes to Marcy’s writing, I am a little bias. Just so you know.

The Shard Axe did not disappoint me. Both Eberron as a setting, and sword-and-sorcery as a genre, tend to favor stories where Good and Evil come in shades of gray. Marcy capitalizes on that feature by populating her story with characters that all carry some sort of scar or baggage that taints them with suspicion at various points as the plot progresses. For me, that was perhaps the greatest strength of the story. I think I suspected everyone at least once of some culpability in the various intrigues–if not the primary crime–and some characters twice.

Sabira is a great female protagonist. Haunted by guilt and chased by creditors, she is a complex woman, and we are given full access to her thoughts, feelings, and motivations. That’s not to say the book is full of introspective soliloquies or angst-ridden dialogue. This is a sword-and-sorcery tale, after all. There is plenty of swordplay–or axeplay, as it were–and I really liked how low key the magic was, especially in a setting like Eberron where magic is a form of technology that powers the society. The vast majority of magic in the story is artifact-based; there wasn’t very much spellslinging. Sabira proves she can hold her own with her enchanted axe, but while she takes her nickname from it, the weapon is clearly not what defines her.

There were few things I didn’t enjoy about The Shard Axe, but in some sort of attempt to appear fair and balanced, I thought I’d mention a couple concerns I had. First, I didn’t buy the budding romance with the brother of her former partner, but I blame my own sense of suspicious cynicism, which Marcy played on perfectly. I also had a hard time orienting myself once the characters reached the dwarven city that serves as the setting for the second half of the book. I just didn’t get a good sense of landmarks and topographical features. The resulting confusion distracted me enough from the plot that once I finally got back on track, things felt rushed. Maybe compressed is a better word.

I’m happy to say that my lack of familiarity with Eberron or the Dungeons & Dragons Online MMO that the book is tied to did not inhibit my ability to understand or enjoy The Shard Axe, and to me, that is one characteristic of good media tie-in fiction. You’ll have to check some other reviews by fans of DDO and Eberron to see if Marcy stayed true to the themes and traits that are central to those intellectual properties, but I have a feeling she did. I recommend The Shard Axe to anyone who likes to read fantasy fiction, and I am pleased to learn she is already at work on a sequel.Similar Posts:

My trip to Barsoom

Kameron — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 18:43:53 +0000

I owe a large part of my love for fantasy fiction to my parents’ bookshelves, upon which were stacked the works of Brooks, Eddings, Lewis, McCaffrey, Tolkien, and others. There was a mix of science fiction as well, but I shied away from the likes of Asimov, Bradbury, and Clarke. (I did read Chalker’s Rings of the Masters series). Perhaps that is why I never got around to reading my father’s collection of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Barsoom series. While the Frazetta covers certainly drew my eye, the “Mars” in the titles meant “science fiction” to my youthful mind, and I preferred spending my time with elves, dragons, magic swords, and wizards at that point in my life.

A series of posts on pulp fantasy at an RPG blog I follow, along with a John Carter of Mars film in production, brought the classic sword-and-planet series back to mind. My father’s collection disappeared during the years since I moved out, so I turned to the public library for a copy of A Princess of Mars.

I was at once struck by the archaic and stilted grammatical structure of the prose. It took some getting used to, even with the knowledge that the narrator is a Virginia gentleman from the post-Civil War era. A Princess of Mars is told in first person as a written account of John Carter’s adventure, except for the introduction, wherein Burroughs sets himself up as the nephew of Carter, assigned the responsibility of building Carter’s tomb to the proscribed specifications left by Carter’s will, and safekeeping the manuscript of Carter’s story until he had permission to release it.

Like most of its contemporaries in the genre, the story handwaves the fantastical and focuses on the adventure. I say “adventure” rather than “action” because many of the fight scenes are summarized. You won’t be reading detailed depictions of swordplay or long, involved chase scenes across the landscape of Barsoom (the natives’ name for Mars).

It’s characters are also basic archetypes: the noble savage Tars Tarkas, the damsel-in-distress (Dejah Thoris, the titular Princess of Mars), the well-meaning-but-ineffective sidekick (Kantos Kan), the faithful dog/companion Woola. John Carter himself is something of a Marty Stu, finding allies at just the right moment in unlikely circumstances or settings. He is stronger and more agile than native Martians by virtue of the lesser atmospheric pressure on Mars compared to earth. And Martians have an incredible healing unguent that can revive one from even the most mortal of wounds, if applied swiftly enough. Conflict typically comes from the peril faced by John Carter’s friends and allies as opposed to himself, and was often resolved through a deus ex machina.

For all that, I still enjoyed John Carter’s struggles to overcome the obstacles in his path. That he would overcome was rarely in doubt, but how he did provided good entertainment. Burroughs imagining of the culture on a dying planet has depth and richness that drew me in. The stories are perfect for passing time on the commuter rail, and the ending of A Princess for Mars generated sympathy for John Carter within me.Similar Posts:

Not a fan of Fafhrd

Kameron — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 14:00:56 +0000

It’s been a while since I read a book on my “bucket list” of genre classics. I picked up an omnibus of the first three Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser anthologies: Swords and Deviltry, Swords Against Death and Swords in the Mist. I’m afraid to say that other than “Lean Times in Lankhmar”, I’ve found the adventures of the storied duo to be a disappointment.

Perhaps my expectations were too high, after years of ringing endorsements from fantasy fiction authors, roleplaying game designers and genre fans. I’ll concede “hype” was a factor, but there are two complaints I have against the Fritz Leiber’s tales of sword and sorcery that had more impact upon my reaction.

I found the narrator’s voice to be condescending and silly in tone. I was reminded of storytelling time in the children’s section of the public library. Leiber’s choice of vocabulary gave me the impression the narrator was an educated, modern man reading a fairy tale with more interest in deconstructing its components than the actual tale itself. It created a barrier between myself and the story that I could not break through. I was seeing it from a distance, through a distorted lens, rather than experiencing it.

I was also struck by how often Leiber summarized the adventures of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. The grim and gritty world of Lankhmar had been sanitized for my safety and protection. I was told how great a swordsman the Gray Mouser was, but rarely saw a fight where more than a stroke or two was described. Many of the stories spent a lot of time summarizing what the legendary pair had done to get to the point in the adventure where the reader joins them, and very little in proportion on the present event.

Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser have not made a lasting impression on me, as either characters or examples of great sword-and-sorcery tales. I’m interested in hearing from others what the attraction to Leiber’s groundbreaking work is. Are the later anthologies a better representation? Someone enlighten me (or agree with me).Similar Posts:

CSFF blog tour April 2007 (day 1)

Kameron — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 17:48:32 +0000

Welcome to another edition of the Christian Science Fiction & Fantasy blog tour. This month features The Return of the Guardian-King, the fourth and final book in Karen Hancock’s Legends of the Guardian King series. This was the first “Christian” fantasy (i.e., published by the Christian Booksellers Association) I’ve read.

I’m going to break my review into two parts. Today, I’ll discuss the literary aspects of the series: character development, dialogue, voice/POV, and worldbuilding. Tomorrow, I’m going to examine the theology presented. For Day 3 of the tour, I’ll summarize some of the other stops in the tour that were of interest to me.

Character Development
Providing an overview of the plot for this series would be a post all its own, so I will leave it to those interested to read the books for themselves. Legends boasts a cast of engaging characters that kept me wanting to see how they overcame trial after trail. In fact, I would say that Hancock’s ability to create multifaceted characters whose growth is realistic and important to the reader carries this series. While I was a little put off by some of the book covers (I felt they cried “romance novel”, especially Light of Eidon and Shadow Over Kiriath), the relationships between the characters were very satisfying. I was also pleasantly surprised by the execution of the internal struggles of faith each character went through.

Dialogue
For the most part, the dialogue was realistic and smooth–no preaching or moralizing through soliloquies. Hancock did attempt to use a brogue-like dialect for some of the citizens of Kiriath, but the execution was inconsistent. Characters would alternate between heavy “accents” and none at all. I couldn’t tell if this was supposed to be a tool to distinguish social class or cultural differences between regions within the nation. In the end, it was just a distraction.

Voice/POV
The narrative voice was consistent through each book, and the series itself, and felt appropriate for the story being told. The point of view shifted to focus on the character central to the action at the time. In the third book, Hancock introduced a POV using one of the antagonists. This POV was used during “Interludes” every few chapters. I didn’t like this device. I believe it was meant to heighten suspense. The antagonist was a traitor within Abramm’s administration, but we aren’t shown who it is. However, there are other ways to create suspense, and the change in format from past books was glaring enough to overshadow any benefit.

Worldbuilding
Karen Hancock has built a world of depth with obvious Christian symbolism that makes the publisher’s label of allegory accurate. Kiriath and Chesedh mirror medieval Europe, while Esurh is Arab-influenced. Return introduces an oriental nation. The nature of the conflict reminded me of a reverse Crusade.

For all the potential and obvious creative work that went into creating the setting, I felt there were some large gaps in the relaying of information that prevented me from becoming thoroughly immersed. I think Hancock relied too heavily on the reader identifying with her nations’ real world counterparts instead of showing the uniqueness of their cultures.

I was also disappointed by the handling of the supernatural elements of the world and its religion. Faithful Terstans can tap into Eidon’s Light, granting them certain powers. They have a written word, and, at least in the case of Abramm, direct communication with their god. Yet, there didn’t seem to be any records on how to master the power of the Light, and no correlation between one’s spiritual growth, their control of the Light and what they can do with it.

Finally, there were times when it felt like Hancock just threw out the name of some angelic or demonic race without providing a solid foundation the reader could rely upon to understand what that name represented. I struggled with remembering if there was a difference between ells and rhu’ema, and when luima were mentioned in Return, I couldn’t recall even “hearing” of them before.

Conclusion
I had high expectations from this series based on the awards it’s garnered and the recommendations I read. It did not meet those expectations, based on a combination of what I’ve mentioned so far and what I will discuss tomorrow. However, I still enjoyed the adventures of Abramm Kalladorne and would recommend the series to any fan of fantasy looking for a family-friendly story.

Be sure to check out the other stops on the tour and I hope you come back tomorrow.

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CSFF blog tour: DKA day 2

Kameron — Wed, 01 Nov 2006 07:30:27 +0000

It is still October 31st as I write this. I hope you’ll forgive my tardiness, but my days recently seem to be lacking those few extra hours I need to get everything on my list done. The October 2006 issue of Dragons, Knights & Angels features 13 fiction pieces (two of which are classified as “student” entries), 2 news articles and 1 poem. I’ve read through 6 of the fiction pieces and the poem so far.

“Plaque” by C. T. Matthews takes an interesting twist on vampires, discussing the effect the blood of Jews and Christians have when digested. The conversion of the dying vampire at the end felt forced and artificial, however.

“A Song for Orcs” by J. Evans Seton is a great poem that calls orcs to rise up from their bestiality and replace the decadent, decayed culture of man with one of honor and heroism.

“Dragon . . . Knight . . . Angel” by Genevieve Cunningham is a student entry about a fallen knight and his redemption. The writing was disjointed, making the story hard to follow at points. A lack of character development made it hard to care about the knight.

“Damage” by Jane Lebak examined the relationship between guardian angels and their wards. Unfortunately, this story falls into the category I call “Chicken Soup for the Soul.” It relied on an emotional subject to tug the heart strings–and I’ll admit mine were pulled–rather than strong writing.

“An Epitaph for Shangri-La” by George L. Duncan follows a group of space explorers that happen upon a paradise planet and its deceased population. The story would have benefited from more showing and less telling, and I felt there were some extraneous scenes that had little to do with the plot or character development. Still, in true science fiction form, the writer examined some current trends in our culture and took them to a plausible conclusion that made me shake my head in sadness.

“A Swarm of Mermaids” by Christie McCreadie follows a cherub trying to earn his wings, or license, in this case. The use of first person present really drew me into the journey and I liked the use of mythical creatures as the obstacles to overcome. Strong but succinct descriptions allowed me to visualize each encounter.

“Useless Meetings” by Ivy Reisner is a humorous look at how the devil is constantly trying to devise schemes to destroy us, a la Screwtape Letters.

That concludes part one of my review. The tour runs today through Wednesday, November 1st. Be sure to check in with the other participants in the tour:

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Review: Atlas Shrugged

Kameron — Thu, 12 Oct 2006 17:10:29 +0000

It’s been a while since I read a 600+ page book that wasn’t written by Mr. Jordan. Ayn Rand’s Objectivism masterpiece Atlas Shrugged weighs in at 1074 pages. It took me over a month to read, and not just because it was long.

I knew from the start that this was a book with a message. Unlike Stranger in a Strange Land, however, I rarely felt preached at. Rand’s characters were more than just mouthpieces, and the expositional dialogue actually felt natural, for the most part.

There was one monologue towards the end of the book that ran for more than fifty pages. Rand launches full tilt into a discourse on objectivism, disguising it as a radio broadcast decrying the evils of the goverment and espousing how the speaker was saving the world. I found the content repetitive and could only labor through a couple pages at a time before having to set the book down.

While I liked the characters, story and premise–America becomes a socialist state along with the rest of the world and all her great capitalists/industrialists go “on strike” in an effort to stop the world’s “motor” and start anew–it reveals the flaw in objectivism, an extreme, capitalist worldview. Extreme views only appear rational when pitted against their extreme opposites. The antagonists of Atlas Shrugged are charicatures, though one or two of them are fleshed out a little, and their actions seemed unreal to me in the face of their predicament.

I think the next “classic” I’ll read is 100 Years of Solitude. There are some new, non-shared world genre releases I’m interested in as well, namely Naomi Novik’s Temeraire trilogy. Now, where did I leave the Amazon gift certificate I got for my birthday . . . .

Review: Brave New World

Kameron — Tue, 22 Aug 2006 19:12:52 +0000

I recently checked out a couple classics from the library in my continued quest to become “well-read.” The first one I finished was Aldous Huxley’s futuristic tale of utopia.

The first two chapters of this book were perhaps the most chilling and repulsive visions of genetic culling I’ve ever read (and I’ve read 1984 and A Handmaiden’s Tale). Huxley describes the inner workings of the Central London Hatchery & Conditioning Center, where humans are manufactured to fill different working castes within society.

The story’s pace is fast, but I didn’t feel rushed until the end. Huxley does a masterful job of showing the different facets of society. The glimpses of the savages on the reservation seemed a little shallow, but that could have just been a product of seeing it through civilization’s point of view.

Even though there was the cliche debate between the savage and one of the World Controllers, I never felt preached at. In fact, Huxley did a good job of keeping any personal biases out of the narrative, which made Brave New World a very enjoyable read.

Earthsea cycle: a review

Kameron — Mon, 26 Sep 2005 19:27:39 +0000

In my continued quest to read the classics, I next chose Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea books. Ms. Le Guin is a local author (she lives somewhere just across the river from me) and the first two books of the Earthsea Cycle–Wizard of Earthsea and Tombs of Atuan–were made into a miniseries on the SciFi Channel.

Unfortunately, I saw the miniseries first. Fortunately, the differences were dramatic enough that I didn’t feel like the story had been spoiled. The first book, Wizard of Earthsea, left me wanting.

Le Guin’s writing has been described as sparse. The brevity of the first two books attests to that. Sparse is not necessarily a bad thing, though. Le Guin uses strong language that does not require a lot of description to evoke images. Still, Wizard at times was more telling than showing. I think this had to do with both the scope of the world Le Guin was introducing and the scope of the events of the story. It was just too much for the word count, in my opinion.

I enjoyed Tombs much more. I think the type of story fit Le Guin’s style better. Where Wizard was somewhat epic in scope, Tombs was the personal story of a young priestess. The magic and exotic locales took a backseat to Arha/Tenar’s spiritual struggle. The story may have resonated more with me because I feel it mirrored the tone my current writing is taking.

Ender’s Game: a review

Kameron — Tue, 20 Sep 2005 16:31:26 +0000

I finished this book on Sunday. “Plowed” would be a better word. After reading a chapter a night–and having to restrain myself from more so I could get enough sleep to avoid turning into a zombie at work–I had the opportunity to indulge myself Sunday afternoon. And I took advantage.

For those not familiar with the story, Ender is a child bred specifically for the purpose of entering military training with the hope that he will turn out to be the commander capable of leading Earth’s fleets against the alien “buggers”. The book starts when Ender is six years old.

The edition I read had a great introduction by Orson Scott Card. He talked about all the feedback he received from readers, how some people had a hard time believing gifted children would sound so intelligent, or how those who belonged to a community of specialists easily identified with the students of the Battle School.

Card also shared his philosophy on writing. His style and intent, at least with Ender’s Game, was not to create subtle layers of social commentary, but to present an engaging story. The commentary is there, but is not required to enjoy or understand the tale. The prose is evocative and the pacing felt very natural. I found myself wondering why Ender’s Game hadn’t been made into a movie yet (the fact that the majority of the cast would need to appear between the ages of six and sixteen might be a factor).

I definitely enjoyed it. I agree that the children didn’t sound like children or act like children most of the time, but Card presented a world in which this was believable. And there were moments of vulnerability where you were reminded that these were just kids after all. The twist at the climax was unexpected, but totally made sense. I did feel the end was a bit rushed; it felt like it belonged in a sequel.

There are indeed sequels to this book. I’m not sure if I will read any of them. Ender’s Game is a story that stands on its own and is satisfying enough that I’m hesitant to explore further into Ender’s world, lest I be disappointed.

Playing catch-up

Kameron — Mon, 08 Aug 2005 16:44:36 +0000

There are a couple of “old business” items I keep forgetting to post on, so I’m going to get those out of the way before I get to the main subject I wanted to discuss today. First, a couple weeks ago I got my royalty statement from Hasbro that covers the first quarter of sales for RotD2 and MoP. All the anthology contributors got a nice surprise, and Maiden is lagging only a little behind RotD2 in sales. Considering the anthology was out a month longer, I’m very pleased. Hopefully, I’ll have made back the advance by the end of this quarter.

In other WotC news, Ed Gentry and Jaleigh Johnson both announced they will be writing a novel in the upcoming Citadels and Dungeons series, respectively. Congrats, you two.

We went camping this past weekend. For me, camping is a great way to vacation, especially car-camping. “Car-camping” is where you can drive right up to the campsite. It allows for a lot more luxuries than backpacking.

One of those luxuries is time, and perhaps that is what I like about camping as a vacation. There is plenty of downtime. Friday morning, after eating breakfast, I lounged around the campsite and finished up Robert Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land.

I’ve decided to take advantage of the local library system in an effort to read some of the genre classics I missed growing up. Stranger was my first outing.

I was vaguely familiar with the plot prior to reading the book. I quickly realized it was nothing like I expected, and while there were certainly moments in the story that I enjoyed, my overall experience was one of disappointment.

Stranger was less a story for me and more of a lecture. I felt like I was being preached at. Heinlein’s message of humanism, sprinkled with a “free love” theme and some rants against organized western religions, were overtly conveyed through the dialogue of various characters. And there was a lot of dialogue.

As a disclaimer, I should add that I read the “uncut” version of the book, which included about 50,000 words that were not part of the originally released novel.

I also felt that the growth of the title character was a bit unsatisfying. Valentine Michael Smith was a human born and raised on Mars by Martians. He had no contact with humans until he was a man and was brought back to Earth. Most of the story of his initial adaptation was told from the POV of characters native to Earth, and I never really got a feel for how alien it must be to Smith.

Instead, I got a lot of exposition on how the native characters thought different institutions and customs would affect Smith. And I could hear Heinlein behind them.

About halfway through the story, Smith suddenly “groks” humanity and instantly becomes a superman. Earlier, it was revealed the Smith had certain “powers” due to his Martian upbringing, but his naivety and innocence acted as a restraint against his use of them in Earth society. That restraint was no longer present now that he was mature, and neither was there any suspense or doubt over whether or not Smith had any control over the events he was involved in. Every twist and turn ended up being something Smith either foresaw or manipulated to achieve his end. “Thou art God” truly did apply in his case.

Next on my reading list is Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card. I’ll share my thoughts on that one as well.Similar Posts: