Andy Graham Author

Author of dark fiction and fantasy, dystopia, horror.

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The Bone Ships by RJ Barker

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So, my girls and boys, let’s get straight to it.

I liked this book. A lot. Why?

Various reasons

It’s a smooth read. The sections flow from one to another without any great leaps of narrative or time. The text isn’t cluttered by descriptions, info dumps or thickets of adjectives. The sentences don’t ramble. As a result, it’s easy to read. Also because–

–the story focusses on 2 main characters: Joron Twiner and Lucky Meas. In a genre infamous for extensive casts, often with similar names, it’s refreshing to find a book where the opposite is the case. Joron and Meas are well-balanced, arrive ‘solidly’ and rise from that moment. And, though the obvious character journey is Joron’s, Meas has her own path to tread. One I think we will see more of in coming books.

The other players are teased into the story and there’s plenty of time to get used to who is who. Also: not an apostrophe in sight in any of the names. Not one. Thank you.

Names lead to world building.

The book has a nice balance of the known and unknown. I wasn’t swamped with new races or places that I had to get my head round. There were a few nice twists on English words (sister/ sither, aye/ ey). The Hag and Her lore added a depth to the world. There are dragons both legendary and real. And the matriarchal society with rank based on an ability to birth healthy children was a great idea, one that was made more believable by the grim traditions that underpin it: what happens to the ‘imperfect’ children and the corpse-lights. (Yuck.)

Which takes us to the ships. Those of the Fleet and the Dead (I wonder if that was a deliberate twist on ‘the quick and the dead’?). And not just any ships but vessels made from dragon bones. Where does someone get an idea like that?

Wonderful.

I want my own 5-ribber so I can stand on the rump and yell orders at people as we sail the seas.

Which is where I’m heading with this part of the review: the sea. I grew up by it yet, strangely, don’t miss it until I am back by it.* I had a similar feeling with The Bone Ships. It reminded me how much I enjoyed Best Laid Plans (Rob Hayes) and Red Seas under Red Skies (Scott Lynch); it made me realise I like nautical fantasy, despite not knowing much more about ships other than they get wet. And this book combined the sea, dragons and a well-told story. What’s not to like?

Well…

(stop groaning at the back)

I did have a few minor issues…

SPOILER ALERT!!!

 

 

There were two things.

1.

The way Lucky Meas’s old crew wrangle a transfer to the Tide Child felt too convenient. What happened is possible, I guess, but I had a momentary, eyebrow-raised ‘really?’ moment.

 

2.

The story lacked a foil to Meas and Joron. The characters that were shaping up to be the person you love-to-hate or hate-to-love fell by the wayside. Indyl Karrad was stonebound, I get it. Coughlin looked to be a great villain but switched allegiances after his own betrayal and then kind of vanished. The other potentials (Cwell, Kanvey, Dinyl & Meas’s sister) never really got a chance to sink their teeth or plots into Meas or Joron.

I realise that there are more books in the series and those characters may well come into their own in time (Well, those that are still alive…), but I wanted someone who I could gnash my teeth at whenever they skulked onto the page. And I never really got it.

I realise they are minor points. But in such a good book, they niggled.

 

 

SPOILER ALERT OVER!

 

To sum up, if you like nautical fantasy and rare beasts, you can’t go far wrong with this book.

Like I said, my boys and girls, I like this book. A lot.

“Sequel rising!”

 

* That said, the sea of my childhood wasn’t filled with longthresh. Seriously… Who writes a book about the ships and sailors and then fills their sea with carnivores that have a hankering for human flesh? That’s all kinds of twisted.

The Gutter Prayer by Gareth Hanrahan

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Well, this is a special book.

I downloaded it a while back after recommendations from both The Grimdark Fiction Readers & Writers group on FB and William King. It took me longer to get round to it than I wanted. Two reasons why.

1 – my TBR list is out of control.

2 – I got lost (nicely so) in a few series. (I’m looking at you Bernard Cornwell, Giles Kristian and Nnedi Okorafor.)

It was worth the wait.

  • The imagination is stunning.
  • The prose is sublime.
  • The world is grimly realistic.
  • There is a history and depth (Literally. Tunnels. Lots of tunnels. Full of horrible things.) to the city which is unpeeled slowly.
  • The characters are well-rounded.
  • There is a foul-mouthed saint who SPEAKS IN CAPITAL LETTERS A LOT and has a flaming sword. (Aleena deserves her own book).
  • There is humour, politics, justice and injustice and, of course, death.
  • As for the ending? See my earlier point about imagination.

Other points:

I don’t normally like guns & swords mixing in fantasy. This novel does it well. As did The Raven’s Mark. There is another similarity between the two books: Jere and Ryhalt. Those two thief-takers/ monster hunters would make a great double act. (If you could keep them out of the bar.)

I also don’t like too many non-human races. This maybe odd in a fantasy reader but I find it off-putting, especially when they are new races. There is only so much ‘world-building’ I can take before I get lost. This novel has the right balance of humans, ‘established’ non-human races and new creatures: the Crawling Ones, which are utterly foul.

And the names? They are pronounceable and there isn’t an apostrophe in sight. Thank you.

I haven’t got many criticisms. I got lost in a few places and had to reread a few sections to check who was doing what to who(m) for what nefarious reason. The book also meandered a little in the mid-section, though, to be fair, that could have been my insomnia playing tricks on me. Otherwise, that’s it.

Again, this isn’t a long or critical review, but I’m not going to pick faults for the sake of it.

Like I said, it’s a special book. One to reread.

 

The Raven’s Mark by Ed McDonald

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I first read Blackwing when it came out in 2017. (I think I even wrote a piece of flash fiction to go into a competition to celebrate that event.*)

I loved the book. It reminded me of a combination of William Gibson and Joe Abercrombie, Neuromancer set in Angland. It is dark and unpredictable. It combines fantasy with hard-boiled detective tropes. The magic system sparkles. The non-human monsters are vile but brilliant. It is one of the few books I’ve read where I don’t mind the combination of swords and guns. (The Gutter Prayer has since joined that list.) Blackwing features one of the best bit-part characters ever: Battle-Spinner Rovelle. All 22 lines that he features in are wonderful and the man deserves his own spin-off series. There are nasty gods and nastier people, great action sequences and has a twist in the tale that is superb and seems to come from nowhere.

In short, it is brilliant.

Ravencry is not quite as fresh as its predecessor but is still good. It twists and turns but the literary teeth aren’t as sharp, they don’t bite as deeply. This is despite it having a nastier antagonist and a superb death scene at the end – so few words used to express something so devastating.

I’m not entirely sure why the book is not quite as gripping as Blackwing. Maybe its purely because the concept is not as new, the story is not as quick. Maybe because Galharrow is too maudlin in places. Maybe I’m being too harsh. It’s a good book with some great lines in it and some bitterly true observations. But it didn’t sing like the first one.

Then came Crowfall. Before we get to it, indulge me.

 

When I was younger, I watched a film where a spaceship (earthship?) was tunneling to the centre of the earth. I can’t remember the name of the film. I think Kurt Russell may have been in it. I had no issues with the spaceship (earthship?) using a laser to dissolve the rock so it could make its descent. I did have an issue with someone at the centre of the earth using a mobile to make a call to the surface. “How do they get reception?” I asked, ignoring the rock-melting laser. I guess it was one step too far for me.

Back to Crowfall.

Of the three, this was the weakest. That doesn’t make it a bad book, it just doesn’t shine as much. The bitter gloriousness of the writing is smudged. Again, there are good action sequences, wonderfully awful monsters and some nice twists. The end sequence was well done, as you would expect from this author.

Why did I struggle?

The main issue was that it was a shade too weird. And of all the oddness, Galharrow’s Misery changes were the main culprit. I know he had a plan. I know he was building towards something. But it was too much, it didn’t seem to fit. I’m not sure why I’m happy with people spinning light from the moons or a talking crow coming out of someone’s arm but not what happened to Galharrow, but there you go. Maybe it was over-stretching the reality. And that weirdness was my rock-melting laser vs phone-reception-at-the-centre-of-the-earth moment. It stuck out too much.

Given how good Blackwing was, producing not one but two books of that calibre was always going to be hard. Ravencry was almost there but Crowfall didn’t make it.

That said, the series is good.

It’s worth reading.

Book One and Two are worth rereading.

I’m looking forward to seeing what Ed McDonald writes next. (I believe he has a new series in the works). In the meantime, I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the appearance of a Battle-Spinner Rovelle spin off series.

 

*It didn’t win.

The Book of the Ancestor by Mark Lawrence

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I’ve never made any secret of my admiration of Mark Lawrence as an author. Neither have I hidden the fact that Red Sister is one of my favourite books.

Then I read Grey Sister.

I devoured it in just over a day. It takes everything that is good about Red Sister:

  • the ebb and flow of drama that builds relentlessly
  • the imagination
  • sublime prose (and that opening line…)
  • the insights into human nature
  • the people — brilliantly flawed and utterly human
  • a plot that both twists and turns as it winds itself around you and won’t let go
  • an attention to detail that doesn’t overwhelm the story
  • the intelligence behind it all

and somehow improves on it.

Grey Sister gives us characters like –

Joeli Namsis – a villain in the mould of Dolores Umbridge, so much worse than any imaginary monsters because her petty vindictiveness is so relatable.

Abbess Glass – a woman surrounded by super humans who has her own power: an uncanny ability to read people and think through consequences.

Nona Grey – a complicated girl centred by two opposites: rage and friendship.

There are sacrifices – both the noble ones of people dying for their friends and the ignoble ones of those hiding behind others’ deaths.

As good as Red Sister is, its grey sister is better.

The word ‘unputdownable’ is over used. This is one of those books that deserves it.

Bound is a short story set between Grey and Holy Sister. It’s short. It’s twisty. It’s good. And features a nice twist on that opening line from Red Sister.

What of Holy Sister?

Holy Sister doesn’t have the pace of Grey Sister but packs its own punch as the tragedies mount. There is more than the vague glory of death here, characters change, they grow, they learn respect and love. But, unusually for a Mark Lawrence book, I had a few small issues with this one.

SPOILER ALERT!!!

 

I’d have preferred the story be given chronologically rather than split between two time lines. Some of the tension was leeched from the ‘ice’ timeline knowing that Nona is in the ‘siege’ timeline. You could argue that her presence in the latter half of the book was a given, but it turned the overriding question from ‘will she survive?’ into ‘how will she survive?’

I’d also rather have had Abbess Glass present for at least some of the book. Her absence worked for the story, especially the ‘reveal’ of Abbess Wheel. But, given how important she was in the previous books, I wanted her final moments on the page rather than in Nona’s memory. (Yes. I know that’s almost the same thing.)

And, being pedantic, I’d rather have had a few more commas. There were some sentences when the flow of the story stuttered as I had to reread what had just happened to who(m).

 

SPOILER ALERT OVER!!!

I feel a little churlish pointing these things out as the book is great. It reminded me of the finale of Emperor of Thorns (the technology left behind by a previous civilisation) and The Wheel of Osheim (the relentless carnage of the final siege). Holy Sister builds on its predecessors and rounds out the series nicely.

To sum up…

Red Sister is one of the few books I’ve read more than once. It will be one of the few that I will read more than twice. Along with the sequels.

Buy the books.

Beg, borrow or barter for some free time.

Read them.

Repeat.

The Warlord Chronicles by Bernard Cornwell

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I’m not sure anything else needs to be said about The Warlord Chronicles. A quick look through the reviews section on any store reveals a host of shining praise. But, I’m trying to catch up on my own reviews so here goes.

Essentially, the books are good. Very good.

They detail the life and times of (King) Arthur but are told from the perspective of one of his warriors (Derfel Cadarn) as he looks back from his later life as a monk.

The books chart Arthur’s rise from warlord to something almost like a king. It documents his mistakes and frustrations, his need to do the right thing for the British people (which is usually a sign that something’s got to go wrong), and his mix of generosity and ruthlessness. (A ruthlessness that pales next to that of his wife: Guinevere.)

All of this is set against Cornwell’s evocative backdrop of Dark Age Britain. The detail is woven into the text with meticulous care yet never becomes obtrusive: retting ponds, women constantly spinning wool, the sacrifices, superstitions and omens. In short, their lives. And deaths: disease and, of course, the battles.

The fight scenes are stunning – graphic and realistic (the exhausting sweaty press of the shield wall and the champions’ duels). They never stray into gore for its own sake but don’t shy away from the realities of what the men were facing and what they stood to lose.

There are politics and religious machinations. The most prevalent of which is the ongoing fight between Old Gods and New that is fought by druids and priests and their believers. That age-old struggle culminates in a grisly scene with a cauldron and a death that shocks all the more for it being ‘off-screen.’

And, of course, there is magic. What would you expect with a tale featuring Merlin? Rather than the fantastical type, it is the magic of trickery and deceit, sleight of hand and, essentially, greater knowledge of the world. If you’ll allow me to bastardise Arthur C/ Clarke’s famous phrase —

‘Any sufficiently advanced technology knowledge is indistinguishable from magic.’

Around all of these things are a cast of characters to both cheer for and jeer at: Uther, Igraine, Arthur, Cai, Lancelot, Guinevere, Aelle, Sagramor, Mordred and many others. These people run the gamut of emotions that make a story worth telling: love and betrayal, hate and revenge, loyalty and wonder.

As I said, the books are good. Very good.

If I had one grudge it would the end of the last book: Excalibur.

MINOR SPOILER ALERT!

 

Derfel retires to a monastery after his fighting days are over and Arthur has sailed into the sunset. Derfel still has an honest naivety to him, which is both endearing and frustrating. (There was many a time when I wanted to shout at the page for Derfel to open his eyes and see what Bishop Sansum was doing.) That, however, is not my issue: it is Derfel’s uncertain fate. His end is only hinted at. It is a good story telling trick but I would have preferred a solid ending for a man who was Arthur’s rock.

The one consolation to that minor grudge is that Derfel was reunited with Hywelbane in the last few pages. Whether he died with his sword in his hand as the once-pagan warrior would have wished, we will never know.

 

MINOR SPOILER ALERT OVER!

 

 

All in all, The Warlord Chronicles are a fantastic depiction of the Dark Ages, and the life, times and battles of one of Britain’s greatest myths. As with Giles Kristian’s fantastic Lancelot, they are not the quickest of books to read but are beautifully written.

Worth reading. Worth savouring.

The Rise of Sigurd series by Giles Kristian

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After last week’s mini-review of The Raven Saga, it’s only logical that I follow up with Giles Kristian’s follow up/ prequel to that series: The Rise of Sigurd.

The books were written after Raven but are set before them (Sigurd is already a jarl by the time the Raven books come around.) They chart the rise of Sigurd from a younger son fighting for recognition, through the betrayal of his family, to him becoming a respected jarl.

Essentially the books follow the same pattern as Raven: vikings with a heart of gold (Mainly. Some are nasty b*st*rds.) plunder and loot their way through one country after another. Most survive. Most of their enemies don’t.

It’s gory. (Again). It’s imaginative. Sigurd is a likeable character full of ‘low cunning’. He is surrounded by a varied band of characters, each one different to the next. Once more, an honourable mention goes to Svein the Red. Despite his brutality, he has a simple/ honest approach to life which makes him a nice foil to Sigurd’s ‘Loki-cunning’. It also sets Svein up for some good observational humour.

The world and its people’s lives are authentic and evocative. The details that give that realism aren’t rammed down the readers’ throats but are woven into the story well. There are no information dumps that read like a Wikipedia page

There is a lot of action and the series gives a nice back story to the characters present in Raven. (Those that survive, obviously…)

The writing style is much smoother than Raven. Stands to reason, I guess, but there is a noticeable jump in quality: the prose, the descriptions of nature in the vein of Bernard Cornwell, the action scenes. They are all much more developed and contain hints of the writing that Kristian produces in his superb Arthurian tales (Lancelot and Camelot.) Part of me wishes I had read Sigurd before Raven as it allows for a chronological unfolding of events. That said, given the evolution of the writing style, it may have been a little jarring to have done so.

Gotta love the covers!

I don’t have many criticisms (I like Kristian’s books), but there are a few things that came up.

MINI-SPOILER ALERT!

 

Valgerd. I have no problem with shield-maidens. Women fought in history. It’s a fact, if you don’t like it, go read a book. My issue with Valgerd is what happened with Sigurd, especially given her previous relationship. It felt crowbarred in, almost as if someone said ‘this book needs some romantic tension’. I think the story would have been better had Sigurd admired Valgerd from afar and never got the chance to lay with her. (Or ‘swive’ her. There’s a lot of ‘swiving’ in the books.)

 

MINI-SPOILER ALERT OVER!

Secondly, the action. It’s relentless. A change of pace would have been good. Essentially Sigurd and his crew go somewhere, get into trouble and either trick or fight their way out of it. They may get treasure. They may get women. They may get nothing. Rinse and repeat for three books. It’s a harsh assessment but that was the way it felt after having read Raven and then Sigurd.

On that note, the sting is taken out of many of the fight scenes because I know who survived having read Raven. There’s not much the author can do about that, I know. That, in itself, is enough of a reason to read Sigurd first.

All in all, though. I liked the series. If you want a book about vikings who don’t wear horned helmets, if you don’t mind gore and violence, if you want a book that is well-researched but doesn’t use facts as a substitute for a plot, if you like dark humour and fast-paced books, these are for you.

Just watch out for the blood.