Ilona Andrews

Magic Bites, by Ilona Andrews

When the magic is up, rogue mages cast their spells and monsters appear, while guns refuse to fire and cars fail to start, But then technology returns, and the magic recedes as unpredictably as it arose, leaving all kinds of paranormal problems in its wake.

Kate Daniels is a down-on-her-luck mercenary who makes her living cleaning up these magical problems. But when Kate's guardian is murdered, her quest for justice draws her into a power struggle between two strong factions within Atlanta's magic circles.

The Masters of the Dead, necromancers who can control vampires, and the Pack, a paramilitary clan of shapechangers, blame each other for a series of bizarre killings -- and the death of Kate's guardian may be part of the same mystery. Pressured by both sides to find the killer, Kate realizes she's way out of her league -- but she wouldn't have it any other way...

Oh, lawdy. I really did not invest a lot of time reading this one, and didn't get a lot out of it. Mostly that was because I spent the entire book wondering if this was the first one in the series. Because, see, Magic Bites just does not do a good job of introducing you to the characters or world. It's like that old joke: "My mother taught me how to swim by taking me out to the middle of a lake and pushing me overboard." "She wasn't trying to teach you to swim!" Magic Bites is the lake, and the authors are the mother, pushing you overboard and going, well, you'll either drown or swim, and have fun figuring out which one it's gonna be!

It might actually be better to start with a later one in the series because I read the first couple of chapters of the next book (you know how they give you a preview of the next book in mass market paperbacks). The recap of the series so far - that authors always put in the later books in the series because people have terrible memories and also sometimes don't always read the books in order - does a good job of explaining things, and talks about secondary characters in a way that's missing when you read Magic Bites. In this one, people just pop up chock full of backstory that's never talked about. For example, early on in the book, Kate's friend Jim is introduced by him showing up kinda irritated because she skipped out on a job they were supposed to do together. All we get from the scene is that Jim is a shapeshifter - we don't know what kind of shapeshifter, or how Kate and Jim met, or if Kate even likes him or not, or the job they were supposed to do together (which sounds interesting) or or or anything. Sometimes it felt like the description on the back cover was more fullsome than the actual text.

The book is narrated in the first person, so I guess it's more realistic that no, when you see someone you know on the street you're not thinking, "I first met my friend Rachel when we were both attended Our Lady of Humble Prayer Camp, during which we bonded over our mutual love of hair ribbons and clarified butter. More recently, we went out dancing together and she still owes me for the drinks." It's more like, she holds out $20, and you think, "I'm glad she brought that money, I didn't want to ask her for it. Also, her shoes are hot." And meanwhile, you all could be anything from friends to pimps relationship-wise. So yeah, maybe it's more realistic for Kate not to explain any damn thing, but that's not helpful when the character is narrating a book. Readers need context and background and without it, people are just like unmoored boats, floating around in the mire of my mind, which is not how anyone wants to read a book.

It just all seems like a lot of ideas jumbled together - I didn't hate it, exactly, but it didn't hold my interest very well, although I'm not sure that's put me off the next books in the series. More editing, more insight as to what's actually going on in Kate's head, better explication of events and world building - it's not impossible. I feel like it has potential, and I'd need to re-read it at least once more before writing it off completely. I've already forgotten most of what happens in Magic Bites, which isn't a strong recommendation, but a different frame of mind might make all the difference. I guess we'll see.



Bayou Moon, by Ilona Andrews

The Edge lies between worlds, on the border between the Broken, where people shop at Wal-Mart and magic is a fairy tale -- and the Weird, where blueblood aristocrats rule, changelings roam, and the strength of your magic can change your destiny.

Cerise Mar and her unruly clan are cash poor but land rich, claiming a large swath of the Mire, the Edge swamplands between the state of Louisiana and the Weird. When her parents vanish, her clan's longtime rivals are suspect number one.

But all is not as it seems. Two nations of the Weird are waging a cold war fought by feint and espionage, and their conflict is about to spill over into the Edge -- and Cerise's life. William, a changeling soldier who'd left behind the politics of the Weird, has been forced back into service to track down a rival nation's spymaster. When William's and Cerise's missions lead them to cross paths, sparks fly -- but they'll have to work together if they want to succeed. . . and survive.

I probably won't make a lot of sense on this post, and that is Linda Ronstadt's fault, because as soon as I look at the title, all I can hear is Ms. Ronstadt singing, "I'm goin' back someday, come what may, to Blue Bayouuuuuuuuuuuu..." It was so bad, I wound up singing it the entire day I read Bayou Moon, much to the aggravation of the people around me. I did enjoy this one more than Magic Bites, as it doesn't suffer from that same weird non-background-info-giving problem, which might be because it's technically the second in a series, or it might be because they took a different approach to writing it.

That familiar sunrise
Those sleepy eyes
How happy I'd be...

It's a much chunkier book, and switches perspectives between the two main characters William and Cerise. I dunno about you folks, but I greatly enjoyed reading all of Cerise's lines out loud in a super thick southern Louisiana drawl. It really added to the experience. That was also something Bayou Moon had going for it that Magic Bites did not: a funny, or at least sardonic heroine. I liked Cerise more than Kate, and honestly, I'm not all together sure why: both are investigating the death/disappearance of someone close to them, both deal in being kick-ass fighters who seem to be modeled after John Wayne's cowboy impersonations. I liked Cerise's sprawling, fighting family, who were vivid secondary characters. Even with the large cast of characters, I could tell who was who, pretty much. In contrast, Kate seems very much orphaned and alone, and even her relationships with her "friends" didn't feel very real. I do like a good secondary cast, and I appreciated the sense of responsibility to her family that Cerise had. Of course, that could maybe also have been because she reminds me of the lead character in the movie Winter's Bone, which I absolutely adore, who also wants to locate her parent and save her siblings and her farm.

Saving nickels, saving dimes
Working til the sun don't shine
Looking forward to happier times
On Blue Bayou

Some of the parts between William and Cerise were just too. . . much. It embarrasses me when characters in books come on real strong, I want to be like, chill. Get ahold of yourself. Especially when you finish the book, and you're like, hey, that took place over 48 hours! Yet these people met, angsted, declared their mutual love and decided to live happily ever after. It's not that fast in Bayou Moon, although it's pretty darn fast. I prefer my main pair to have some restraint, although they do alright for the first half of the book, when they're going through the Mire.

Where the folks are fine
And the world is mine
On Blue Bayou

The setting is delightful - very swampy and atmospheric, and unlike Magic Bites, I could picture all the locations pretty clearly, which aids immensely in my enjoyment of a book. I did get kinda bogged down by the end of the book, it suffered a little from the authors trying to wind up way too many storylines and surprise twists, so that the first like, two thirds felt fairly evenly (if a bit slowly) paced, then frenetic fighting all weighted down at the end. Plus, it suffers from Return of the King epilogue syndrome: just when you thought it was done, more stuff popped up to be taken care of. It felt rushed a bit, such as when Cerise's father gets found and rescued off-screen in the space of like, five pages, despite the whole point of the book being, ostensibly, Cerise's search for him. I guess we don't care about him as much as we do her mother, who is already worm food by that point.

Well, I'll never be blue
My dreams come true

All in all, I was intrigued by both books, although I definitely prefer Bayou Moon to Magic Bites. Bayou Moon is sort of a loose sequel to another book about the Edge (called, appropriately enough, "On the Edge"), so I might try that one on for size, and see if my issues with Magic Bites are because of the first-book-in-a-series problem or because I just can't get behind that particular series.


On Bluuuuuuuuue Bayyyyyyyyyouuuuuuuu

Possession

Possession, by A.S. Byatt

An exhilarating novel of wit and romance, at once an intellectual mystery and a triumphant love story. It is the tale of a pair of young scholars researching the lives of two Victorian poets. As they uncover their letters, journals, and poems, and track their movements from London to Yorkshire - from spiritualist seances to the fairy haunted far west of Brittany - what emerges is an extraordinary counterpoint of passions and ideas.

I don't know if you all were present for my hissy fit a few entries back. Let me assure you, that was only a very very small taste of the complaining and bitching I performed on behalf of Possession. This book was like my albatross, hanging around my neck. Here are some words of advice: don't be like me! Don't get suckered in by an interesting description like I did. JUST SAY NO (to Possession).

See, I thought this was going to be exciting, like, a mystery! But with books, and letters for clues, and nobody shoots each other, and everybody involved is long dead, so it's more peaceful-like, which I like, because I enjoy thrillers without action, is that a crime? Because if that's wrong, then I don't want to be right. So I started Possession, thinking, you know, 'Millions of satisfied readers can't be wrong.' WRONG. I hated Possession. I loathed it. I got about 1/4 of the way in, and conveniently "lost" it, so I could take a break from it. This was just not my book. And it's not a bad book! It's not, I swear. It's just, like, the opposite of anything I ever want to read. And I had a clue, right there on the back of the book:

It is the tale of a pair of young scholars researching the lives of two Victorian poets.

...two Victorian poets.

...two Victorian poets.

...two Victorian poets.

...two Victorian poets.

I hate Victorian poetry. This wasn't like, a surprise to me. I mean, I kinda was aware that I wasn't, you know, as they say, "a fan of the Dickinson" (they don't say that), but I can tell you I certainly didn't expect that reading it would feel like torture. Victorian torture. I like poetry that one could read aloud with some measure of rhythm. I do not like ellipses, and dash marks all over my poetry, with like, crap pauses everywhere and nothing rhymes. I'm getting angry just thinking about it. [NB: Actually, if you want a really hilarious take on this type of poetry, you should read Connie Willis' short story, 'The Soul Selects Her Own Society' which is a satirical "essay" on how Dickinson fought off an alien invasion by her 'near-rhymes,' bizarre meter, and 'profligate use of dashes and random capitalizing of letters.' Basically, it takes everything I hate about Victorian poetry and makes fun of it, in a much nicer and smarter way than I myself am about to.]

Like, okay, read this snippet:

I ask myself, did Galileo know
Fear, when he saw the gleaming globes in space,
Like unto mine, whose lens revealed to me --
Not the chill glory of Heaven's Infinite --
But all the swarming, all the seething motes
The basilisks, the armoured cockatrice,
We cannot see, but are in their degrees
Why not? -- to their own apprehension --
I dare not speak it -- why not microcosms
As much as Man, poor man, whose ruffled pride
Carnot abide the Infinite's questioning
From smallest as from greatest?

If you read that and immediately feel like you're breaking out in hives: congratulations! You're allergic to Victorian poetry. I advise that you put Possession down immediately and never think of it again. If you read that and go, "Hey! What fantastic imagery! I want more!": Congratulations, you're an English teacher! Go make some kids miserable with allegories and metaphors and allusions.


So Possession is a book's book. It uses a lot of literary devices in fancy ways, and wraps everything up in layers of, you know, allegories and metaphors and allusions. The Victorian story is told through poems, letters, suicide notes, diaries, and dug-up graves. I'm about to unwrap some SPOILERS, so beware, although honestly, if you read this review and still want to read Possession, it's not like you care what I'm saying anyway.

The Victorian story is an somewhat interesting one (although not my cup of tea) if only it weren't obscured by all the. . . Victorian-ness of the medium. For instance, there is an entirely too-long section which comprises the bulk of letters between the poets, and it's stuff like this:

Have you truly Weighed --what you ask of me? Not the Gracile Accommodation of my Muse to your promptings -- for that wd be resisted to the Death of the Immortal -- which cannot Be -- only Dissipation in Air.

and this:

How shall I answer you? I have been abrupt and ungracious-- from fear of Infirmity of Purpose, and because I am a voice -- a voice that would be still and small - -crying plaintively out of a Whirlwind-- which I may not in Honesty describe to you. I owe you an Explanation -- and yet I Must Not -- and yet I must-- or stand convicted of hideous Ingratitude as well as lesser vices.

But Truly Sir it will not do. The --precious-- letters -- are too much and too little -- and above all and first, I should say, compromising.

What a cold sad word. It is His word -- the World's word -- and her word too, that prude, his Wife. But it entails freedom.

I will expatiate -- on freedom and injustice.

Ugh. Anyway, so that's a problem for me. I can't argue with the effectiveness of it, or with the accuracy of it, because it's well done. Here's the thing: Possession is well written, very well written. Byatt has a lot of balls to keep up in the air, and she does keep them up with a good deal of success. Not only does Byatt write the whole Victorian thing to a T, she also has to deal with the modern (or, well, 1980s) world, which has scholars picking everything apart, which can't have been too much easy to plot and pace and do properly. Everything is like a big spiderweb - pull one thread and you've got connections to five other things going on at once. I didn't pick up on half of them, mostly because I was just trying to keep my head down and get through it without dying, but I did notice that they were there.


Another of my difficulties with the book was caused by the characters. I didn't like any of them. I found no one sympathetic. The Victorian cast is two poets, Randolph Ash and Christabel LaMotte, who have an affair and break it off, but not before somehow causing LaMotte's roommate to commit suicide, and LaMotte to have a baby in tawdry fashion. I didn't like them. I hate it when people in books have affairs, it always makes me hate the couple. And here, there's this weird thing where apparently Ash's wife refused to have sex with him, ever, and I guess maybe it's supposed to make us more sympathetic to his position? I dunno, man, I still think he's a bit of a shit for cheating on her. The whole thing rubbed me wrong.

Then there's the modern parts, which has two main scholars, Roland Mitchell and Maud Bailey (and jeez, Byatt, could you have made your two male characters any harder for me to distinguish between than Roland and Randolph? I could not for the life of me remember which one was which) who mimic, in some ways, the Victorian couple. That is, Randolph leaves his mopey girlfriend to trek off with this other chick. Everyone is sort of slimey and unlikeable in the modern era too, at least for the first, eh . . . 7/8ths of the book. They're all weird and awkward and grating and gross until everyone comes together to rob graves in an odd tonal shift to madcap caper, when everyone suddenly turns fun and amusing and quirky instead. Oh well, at least it leavened the loaf.

I can't speak much on the moods of the book, or its artistry. Unfortunately, as I said above, I was struggling too much just to get through it to be able to appreciate any subtleties. I know that Byatt intended at least some of it to be satirical, and not serious, but for my part, I found the humor to be very dour. I saw the ridiculousness, but I wasn't amused, merely tired. It takes a different person than me to really relish this kind of humor. And possibly, I'm still upset at how difficult it was - like trying to save some kid from drowning only to find out they'd been faking it the whole time. I mean, it's almost enough to make you want to drown them for real, isn't it?

"My friend attacks my friend!
Oh Battle picturesque!
Then I turn Soldier too,
And he turns Satirist!
How martial is this place!
Had I a mighty gun
I think I'd shoot the human race
And then to glory run!"

-E.Dick.

ARRRGH