Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta review. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta review. Mostrar todas las entradas

jueves, 27 de agosto de 2026

Royals, by Derek Kirk Kim and Jacob Pérez

(You can also read this review in Spanish/También puedes leer esta reseña en español)

The premise of Royals caught my attention from the very first time I saw it. In this comic, written by Derek Kirk Kim and illustrated by Jacob Pérez, two brothers who share a telepathic bond use their abilities to win poker tournaments in different countries around the world. That is, until they arrive in Seoul, where things get complicated after they find themselves tangled up in a dispute with an organized crime boss.

From this starting point, the plot gradually evolves into a story of the mob, revenge, ambition, and a touch of madness. Perhaps this is what I liked most about Royals: it knows how to start with a clear direction and then slowly complicate the situation, consistently surprising the reader and offering something new in every issue. And it does all of this by following a fairly logical sequence, without taking any blind leaps.

The two protagonist brothers might not be the most charismatic characters in comic book history, but they are complemented by some very interesting supporting characters whose pasts are especially relevant to the story's development. This forces them to face moral dilemmas whose resolutions, although somewhat predictable at times, ultimately prove to be quite satisfying.

Jacob Pérez's artwork perfectly fits both the tone of the story and the characters introduced. He has a style halfway between manga and cartoon that blends incredibly well with the South Korean setting. Furthermore, Pérez handles the action scenes wonderfully; they feel dynamic and are crystal clear for the reader.

In short, Royals is a comic that knows how to evolve beyond its initial premise, consistently giving the reader something more and keeping them hooked from start to finish. The miniseries consists of six issues, with the final one going on sale in early September. Additionally, a collected volume has already been announced (which I had the opportunity to read in an advanced digital review copy), set to be published in November.

viernes, 21 de agosto de 2026

Death Fight Forever, by Andrew MacLean, Alexis Ziritt, Al Gofa, Sam McKenzie and Erwin Papa

Death Fight Forever, created by Andrew MacLean (writer) and Alex Ziritt (artist) and with additional artwork by Al Gofa, Sam McKenzie, and Erwin Papa, is a comic that is brutally honest about what it’s trying to achieve. It’s a crazy, slightly badass tribute to a large chunk of 80s and 90s pop culture, especially arcade video games (Double Dragon, Street Fighter...), action movies (Cobra, Rambo, RoboCop...), and, of course, the comics of that era.

As such, you can imagine that the script isn't particularly deep. The main story is driven by revenge against a big bad villain and features characters with barely any characterization... other than the fact that they are out for revenge. The five issues collected in this trade paperback read in a flash, offering a good mix of fights, brawls, chases, explosions... and little humorous gags, some of which are quite funny. The comic goes out of its way not to take itself seriously, and not only does it succeed, but it has a blast doing so.

To enjoy Death Fight Forever, you have to play along, and I must admit that I was fully on board from the very first page. With character names as on-the-nose as Slyther for a reptilian villain, Thunderfang for a feline soldier, or the Bash & Crash brothers who demolish everything in their path; references that bring to mind the aforementioned movies and games, but also He-Man, ThunderCats, Tron, and many others; deliberately retro artwork like the one you can see on the cover... I understand all of this might scare off more than one reader, but it really clicked with me and I read it from cover to cover with a smile on my face.

The artwork alternates between contributions from Ziritt, Gofa, McKenzie, and Papa, but it remains remarkably consistent throughout the five issues. Perhaps the earlier ones are a bit wilder, while the fourth and fifth (which I liked more visually) are a little more standard. This is the exact opposite of the script, which gets more absurd with every page. A special mention also goes to the fact that the volume I read includes some pretty interesting short interviews with the comic's creators. I don't usually read those extras, but in this case, I actually took a look.

In summary, Death Fight Forever makes no secret of its intention to pay homage to 80s and 90s pop culture products without striving for deeper meaning, aiming for nothing more than to entertain the reader for a while. In my case, it succeeded with flying colors, although I imagine the experience will depend heavily on each person's level of nostalgia and the mood they're in when they sit down to read it. Who knows, maybe it'll be a good fit for you too!

domingo, 16 de agosto de 2026

Preview of Odin, by James Tynion IV, Marguerite Bennett, Letizia Cadonici and Jordie Bellaire


James Tynion IV is, without a doubt, one of the most successful comic book writers today. Series like Something is Killing the Children, The Department of Truth, and The Nice House on the Lake are among the most acclaimed titles by fans in the last decade. So, any new work of his raises massive expectations. That is why, when I had the opportunity to request a review copy of Odin (co-written with Marguerite Bennett, with art by Letizia Cadonici and colors by Jordie Bellaire), I couldn't resist. What I didn't imagine (because it wasn't specified anywhere) was that it was only a preview of thirty-something pages (corresponding, I believe, to the first issue of the series), which has left me a bit wanting more.

Odin is the story of a group of neo-Nazis who plan to summon a Norse god deep in the wilderness of Norway. It is also the story of Adela, a journalist who infiltrates the group with the goal of writing an exclusive story. And, of course, it is the story of how things do not go as expected, and misfortunes and tragedies begin to happen left and right.

And, as they used to say on a popular TVE show many years ago... that's as far as I can read. Because, precisely, that is as far as I was able to read with the preview I was given, from which I haven't been able to draw many conclusions. Is it an interesting story? Yes, undoubtedly. Would I keep reading it? Absolutely! Can I recommend it? Well, I don't know, because I've only been able to taste a tiny fraction of it. But things are looking good.

And speaking of looking good, the artwork is more than adequate without being particularly spectacular. Cadonici more than delivers and is aided, of course, by the always perfect colors of Bellaire. Nothing to object to in that department.

There is little more I can add. It is a work that seems to be very much in line with everything Tynion produces, and I will be delighted to read it in its entirety when it becomes available. In the meantime, it's time to wait.

martes, 11 de agosto de 2026

FML, by Kelly Sue DeConnick and David López

(You can also read this review in Spanish/También puedes leer esta reseña en español)

I had heard great things about FML, the comic scripted by Kelly Sue DeConnick and David López, especially on Entre Cómics, one of my favorite podcasts for finding reliable recommendations. As if that weren't enough, it also scored an Eisner nomination this year. So, I was expecting a masterpiece and while I found a story very different from what I had imagined, its quality didn't disappoint me in the slightest. 

It is hard to describe exactly what you will find within the pages of FML. It has elements of a youth adventure story à la The Goonies or Stand by Me, a few supernatural touches, a heavy dose of slice-of-life, a dash of underground metal storytelling, and a solid serving of a bildungsroman. Still not entirely sure what it is about? It doesn't matter, because discovering all these elements (and many others!) and seeing how they blend together is one of the greatest pleasures of reading this comic. 

FML has some frankly brilliant moments. It is a story that, when it's good, is soooo good. DeConnick keeps many balls in the air at once and juggles them exceptionally well. Inevitably, things occasionally get a little too tangled, causing a slight dip in the pacing and, above all, clarity, but the final result remains outstanding. 

However, what I liked most about FML are its characters. There are a lot of them, they are very diverse, and highly interesting. Despite how 'peculiar' they might be, they are all perfectly characterized and incredibly believable. Interestingly, Riley (who is the supposed protagonist, though your guess is as good as mine) is perhaps the one who flies under the radar the most. Personally, I absolutely loved Patty (Riley's mother) and her friend Amy, as well as the dynamic between them and the secrets slowly revealed about their past. 

David López does a truly phenomenal job on this comic. He handles the stylistic shifts like nobody else, and his close-ups are stunning. The volume I read (a digital Advanced Review Copy) also included some highly interesting extras (and I'm usually not the type to pay much attention to those things). A special shout-out also goes to Cris Peter's coloring, which is simply superb. 

FML is already available in its entirety in English as single issues (eight in total) and will be released as a collected trade paperback in a few months. I haven't heard any news yet about a Spanish publication, but I'm sure it won't take long to be announced because it is a highly recommended read.

lunes, 29 de octubre de 2018

Alexander Páez reviews Mecha Samurai Empire, by Peter Tieryas

Alexander Páez has kindly reviewed for us Mecha Samurai Empire, by Peter Tieryas, the sequel to United States of Japan. You can also read this review in Spanish at Alexander's website, Donde acaba el infinito. Hope you like it!

Review Soundtrack: Álex suggests reading this review while listening to the main theme of Mazinger Z, by Ichirou Mizuki (YouTube, YouTube) 

Some years ago, I got an ARC copy of a book at my email. It was an Angry Robot book: United States of Japan by an unknown author at that time, Peter Tieryas. I contacted him by Twitter and since then we speak now and then. With that warm and proximity that is so Tieryas. Now, in 2018, Peter Tieryas has positioned himself as one of the emergent authors that you must read. He has succeeded in the international market as in the anglosaxon. And he hasn’t lost this close touch, this proximity to the readers. The story repeats itself, I got an ARC copy of his new novel and I start reading it as soon as it gets into my Paperwhite. I need more of his world. I need more mechas. I need more sci-fi. Mecha Samurai Empire is this new novel that is also a sequel to the previous novel but both can be read as stand-alone works. Oh, and it was worth. So much.

If the first novel was a dystopia, a homage to a Phillip K. Dick novel, this second one is a novel about war, about humanity, a tribute to the sub-culture surrounding mechas, videogames and probably a more Heinlein-reminiscent novel. In Mecha Samurai Empire, Japan and Germany won the World War II and they divided North America. West is Japanese, a hybrid between Japanese and North American culture, while in the East, the Germany area, it is more divided between non-Aryans and “normal” citizens. You probably already knew this if you read the previous novel. The truce between the Japanese Empire and the German Reich is uneasy, mechas versus biomechs, but they usually stay out of each other businesses. Usually.

Mecha Samurai Empire begins with Mac, a student struggling with his grades, but a guy who is incredibly good at videogames, especially with “portical”, something that grants with a chance to enter the mecha examination program so he can fulfill his dream: to be a mecha pilot. Mac is attended by the state, since both his parents were killed in The Battle of San Diego. They were both mecha pilots.

Peter Tieryas doesn’t write typical heroes. You probably are wondering when Mac will have his chance to save the world, to be a hero. Well, actually on different occasions, but the way Tieryas drives the plot is brilliant. This are not hero worthy situations, most of them are a fruit of chance, or sometimes he is in the right place at the right time. Tieryas also does a lot of criticism to the military structure, with poor leaders that lead to a lot of trooper deaths and so on. While I don’t really care about military criticism (I guess this is an important issue in USA, but in Spain not really) I think it’s very clever because you can take the philosophical exploration and put it into a bigger picture. While I was reading this novel, I reckoned it felt a lot like a Kojima game. A Metal Gear Solid game. It’s about soldiers, but it has a bigger picture. Mac isn’t a philosopher, but he encounters situations that really question his motivations. For instance, he has a German friend, and that is not very keen to the eyes of his companions. 

I have to admit, the best in this novel? The mecha battle. Oh my. So funny, so well written, so epic. This was something the readers wished for more in the first novel. And here we have our wish. Granted by Tieryas. I would LOVE to see a movie about this novel. Mecha Samurai Empire isn’t as dark as the previous work, it’s more war-like, more dynamic, faster. And I really enjoyed the change in style and narrative. It really feels like Tieryas had a lot of fun writing this novel. And you know, mechas vs other things is always a win-win. My recommendation is that you should read it, but don’t expect a new dystopia, this is not (very much) it. It’s a criticism to war, military states and totalitarianism. Another great work by Peter Tieryas.

lunes, 30 de julio de 2018

Alexander Páez reviews Summerland, by Hannu Rajaniemi

It is a great pleasure to have Alexander Paéz reviewing for us Hannu Rajaniemi's latest novel: Summerland. Hope you enjoy it and remember that you can read the review in Spanish at Alex's blog, Donde acaba el infinito.

Review soundtrack: Alex suggest reading this review while listening to In The Summertime, by Mungo Jerry (YouTube, Spotify).

I do hold some respect before reading a book by Hannu Rajaniemi. The Quantum Thief was a tough book, full of hard to understand ideas. But it was thrilling and full of that sense of wonder. I did not discover that in his Collected Fiction that I read some years ago, which for me was a little bit weird. Some short stories were really good, and some others not that much. Added to this, I’ve decided since some months ago not to review books that I dislike. But with Summerland I’ll do and exception because I think it holds some great ideas that you may find interesting.

Summerland takes place during the Spanish Civil War and it is told as a chronicle or a story about some secret wars played by the most powerful European countries at the time. So yes, it is a novel about spies. But then fantasy comes in, they have discovered that life and death have no meaning whatsoever. They can communicate with the Dead using some mediums through a possession. A fight to possess and control the Summerland begins.

Hannu Rajaniemi mixes real history events and people with characters, and this gives a perspective to the story and a point for the reader to hold to reality and to certain events. The bad part (and there is always a bad part to every story) is that the characters felt really misused or unused. Some of them feel like tools, some other like “hey, look at this guy, he appears here”. I can’t restrain myself in doing a (maybe unfair) comparison between Summerland and The Last Days of Paris by China Mieville, which blew my mind when I read it. Mieville book does everything right where Summerland just fails.

Summerland was a long awaited project by Rajaniemi, and science takes a huge role in the book. It is Marcone and no one else who discovers this world beyond Dead or Alive. And yes, it is fantasy at its purest, but the huge elements of science work really well in the story. Rajaniemi also takes part in the ongoing gender discussion, but for me it just felt like “agenda”. It’s not elegant at all and it feels like some characters just screaming to the reader “hey, we think women are not weak, you see us? We really think that!”. I wished for a cleverer way to put it. Rajaniemi works best at criticizing politics and some ways the System works.

Some other interesting ideas in Summerland are the safe way to travel to this world beyond with a ticket so the soul can fix itself to the world in order to not disappear. And the interesting idea of a god, or the absolute force. Sadly, I do not recommend this book whatsoever. I felt it was pretty boring for the most part of it, and I had the impression that it was just spinning around. There are a lot of ideas and story parts that I did not enjoy at all, but let’s just leave them aside. I will be waiting for the next Rajaniemi book, overall I think he is a really interesting author to follow.

lunes, 15 de enero de 2018

Alexander Páez reviews The Only Harmless Great Thing, by Brooke Bolander

I am greatly honored to host this review of The Only Harmless Great Thing by my friend Alexander Páez, a huge fan of Brooke Bolander's work (and, in fact, the translator into Spanish of one of her stories). Hope you enjoy it, and remember that you can also read the review in Spanish at Álex's blog, Donde acaba el infinito.  


Review Soundtrack: I suggest reading this review while listening to Radium Girls, by Pat Burtis (Spotify).

I’m going to make this short, as the story here is short as well. A quick punch to the guts. A brief “Holy cow” swearing. A short realization that you’ve read a huge and profound story. An angry story. An “I’m tired of this shit” story. If you have read "Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies" you may know what I am talking about. I will call it Rage Writing. Stories that comes as a ferocity burst of being tired of this society that allows inequality, injustice and suffering. 

The Only Harmless Great Thing is a story hard to talk about. I read it in two days and I felt like I was in a hurry. I needed to finish it as soon as possible. Get rid of that anger. Get rid of than painful story. This novella is a mix of two real stories: Topsy the Elephant and the Radium Girls. The first one is about an elephant that was publicly executed on Coney Island and the Radium Girls is a group of women who ended poisoned because of their work with radioactive stuff. Although the events happened in different timelines (1903 and 1917) Bolander builds her fiction among these two events occurring at the same time. In Bolander’s novella we have the electrocution of an elephant that causes a nuclear explosion at the coast of New York. The story goes back and forward between many protagonists and characters, before and after the Topsy execution and the aftermath explosion. Bolander introduces songs, lullabies, a fable about an ancient elephant mother, and media pieces. All of it makes a collage of small stories, tiny points of view that the reader must put together to understand what is going on. Just imaging that someone throws a lot of documents on your table and you have to reconstruct the whole story. It is fun. It is exhausting. It is challenging. It is Bolander.

The transitions in the story are smooth and perfect, you don’t feel like as a reader you are being pushed around in a fuzzy way, but that you are being on your own in a huge gallery and you kind of choose what piece you approach. The book is very short, yes, but is has so much to say. It actually says so much. Funny how many things we have to say about such tiny pieces and so less about the incredible long ones. The Only Harmless Great Thing is a fable about nuclear waste, slavery, fighting women, animal abuse, patriarchy and many more metaphors you will find. To end this, I will speak about the beginning of the book, which opens with a huge mountain of nuclear waste, the total extinction of humanity. And over there are living the irradiated elephants. Eternal. Brooke Bolander’s writing is like a roar, a vast battle cry. And we can’t ignore it.

lunes, 8 de mayo de 2017

Infinity Engine, by Neal Asher


(Disclaimer: English is my second language, so I want to apologize in advance for there may be mistakes in the text below. If you find any, please let me know so that I can correct it. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.)

Review Soundtrack: I suggest reading this review while listening to Penny Royal, by Evokescape (Spotify, Soundcloud)

Dark Intelligence and War Factory, the first two instalments of the Trasformation trilogy, were two of my favourite books in 2015 and 2016 and are two of the best space opera novels I've read recently. In fact, I liked them so much that Night Shade used and excerpt of my review of Dark Intelligence as a blurb in War Factory. As you can imagine, I was really excited about the series coming to its conclusion with Infinity Engine. Sadly, I must say that this third book was a bit of a disappointment.  

Many of the elements that I loved in Dark Intelligence and War Factory are present also in Infinity Engine. For instance, Penny Royal is still pulling strings in the shadows and provoking transformations in many of the other characters. The new, central role of the Brockle, as counterpoint to the evil AI, is especially interesting in this regard, giving raise to the best chapters of the novel. The explanation of Penny Royal's back history, including the reasons for its becoming rogue, are also very good and I did enjoy them very much. 

However, and despite those interesting parts, I couldn't help feeling that the rest of the book was largely forgettable. Most chapters just involve characters going from one place to another, occasionally fighting each other, but all without much relevance to the main plot. In fact, this kind of problem was also present (in a less obvious way) in the final part of War Factory and I seriously think that the series would have been much better if these last two novels would have been fused in just one, keeping the only the best parts of Infinity Engine. 

I have read other, much more positive reviews of the novel and thus I must say that mine could very well be a minority opinion. In fact, I've noticed that, lately, I find it difficult to enjoy the second or third instalments of series whose first book I loved. It happened to me with A Night Without Stars, by Peter F. Hamilton, which I think was really not up to the standard of The Abyss Beyond Dreams (contrary to the popular opinion) and, to a lesser extent, also with Luna: Wolf Moon, by Ian McDonald, which everybody seems to love as much as Luna: New Moon. And it has happened to me again with Infinity Engine, so you may want to take my opinion with a grain of salt. Your mileage may vary and all that. 

All in all, I regret to say that I expected much more from Infinity Engine and that, even though the Transformation trilogy is still a very good series on the strength of Dark Intelligence and War Factory alone, it leaves with a bittersweet taste. This could (should?) have been one of the best space opera sagas ever but, to my taste, failed to deliver with this third and final book.        

lunes, 27 de febrero de 2017

Antonio Díaz reviews A Closed and Common Orbit, by Becky Chambers

Antonio Díaz reviews today A Closed and Common Orbit, by Becky Chambers, a novel in the universe of The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, that he also reviewed for us last year. And stay tuned, for Antonio will bring us a surprise regarding Becky Chambers very soon. Hope you enjoy it!

Review soundtrack: Antonio suggest reading this review while listening to I am ?, by the Laura Jeffrey Academy students (YouTube).

Becky Chambers debuted last 2014 with The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, a coral space opera that reminded us of Firefly and that traps you with its fantastic prose. The author has a unique skill in getting feelings and ideas across to the reader that makes her opera prima still resonate among my last years reads. Obviously, when A Closed and Common Orbit came out, no doubt crossed my mind before I snatched it from a self.

This second book is also placed in the Wayfarers universe and, chronologically, goes after The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet. However, even though there are links and some of the previous characters get mentioned, we can say that they are fundamentally independent. In her first book, Chambers divided her attention between the nine members of the crew (including the AI), with their own characteristics, necessities and voices. Instead, in A Closed and Common Orbit we find only two stories, intertwined at several levels, and a more limited secondary character's cast. Furthermore, while in The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet Chambers showed us different races, societies and locations, in this second novel the action is bounded to a couple of places and its scope is way more personal (which also makes this novel 150 pages lighter).

In A Closed and Common Orbit, Lovey, an AI that has been designed to be in a spaceship (HAL 9000-style) wakes up to find himself, herself, itself? moved to an artificial humanoid body. Chambers does a first-rate job shaping the very special voice of an AI with not only identity issues but also a strong feeling of irreality. Lovey has plenty of problems in adapting to the new body, taking into account that its purpose was to be in a spaceship (in which you don't have to feel anything, you can be constantly connected to the net and you're aware of your surroundings without effort thanks to the security cameras). Possibly, Chambers is not inventing the wheel here, but I have to admit that I've never read the voice of an AI like this one and it has given me plenty to think about.

Lovey's story is intertwined with another, a bit more typical, about which I don't want to give any info in order to maximize the reader's enjoyment it its discovery. I only need to say that both are complementary at various levels. Not only because they have concepts and ideas in common, but because this second story gives the book and edge that the other story (which focuses more in the self-discovery) lacks. In this book, we won't learn more about the Wayfarer's universe, so we can only hope that Chambers keeps leading us through this tapestry she is weaving.

Chambers has a very special touch that sets her apart from other science fiction authors. It's a tone hard to put your finger on but that impregnates the book with an emotion that makes everything matter. Chamber's novels, albeit bittersweet, always give me the impression that that they have a hopeful touch in them that lifts the spirit. It is a similar sensation to the one that films like Amelie or Big Fish give.

In The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet we make a trip through the external space and in A Closed and Common Orbit we travel through the internal space. Chamber analyzes, unravels and compares the different roads two sentient beings take in order to find themselves, their reason to exist and maybe to help them accept themselves as they are, to change how they are, to reach how they should be.

I cannot do other thing but to recommend this book, although I would advise the reader to start with The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (in order to avoid minor plot spoilers) and because I think that it is a more dynamic book than A Closed and Common Orbit. This second novel, although it's not boring at any moment, has a slower pace (which goes well with its trip to the center of the being).

lunes, 20 de febrero de 2017

Crossroads of Canopy, by Thoraiya Dyer


(Disclaimer: English is my second language, so I want to apologize in advance for there may be mistakes in the text below. If you find any, please let me know so that I can correct it. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.)

Review Soundtrack: I suggest reading this review while listening to Canopy, by Emancipator (Spotify, YouTube). 

I tend to think and re-think a lot what books to read (so many books, so little time!) so it is very strange for me to see just the cover and synopsis of a novel and decide, almost instantly, that I need to get it, without knowing anything about the author and without having read any review or opinion online. But that's exactly what happened to me with Crossroads of Canopy, Thoraiya's Dyer debut novel. I saw that an ARC was available at NetGalley and, impulsively, decided to request it. And it turned out that my hunch was quite right. 

The first thing that stands out from Crossroads of Canopy is the amazing and very original worldbuilding. Dyer has imagined a whole world that exists on the canopy of a huge forest, with different kingdoms, cities, gods and beasts that are a delight to discover. The magic system is also wonderful, with a lot of depth and many surprises that the author unveils drop by drop. 

The way that the author subverts some of the usual tropes in high fantasy is also very refreshing. The story has just a little bit of Campbell's monomyth, but our protagonist, Unar, is much more focused on completely changing the status quo than your average hero. In fact, there is a lot of social criticism and exploration in the novel. The world is divided in three different classes (Canopy, Understorey and Floor), something that drastically affect how people are treated and what rights they have:
"And if you desired to feel the sun, what then? If you need fresh fruits to cure a child's illness? What if you had fallen and your family remained above, and they were forced to watch while demons ate the flesh off your bones?"
"That would be my misfortune." (...)
"Why them and not us?"
"Canopians are born under the gods' protection. It's your misfortune, as I said."
"Why can they not protect everyone? Are they so weak?"
"No! That is, I don't now..."
 "One Forest," Kirrik said. "One people. That is what the Master seeks in the future. That is what we hope to achieve. We believe the gods can and should protect everyone. And if they cannot, they are not true gods, and should be killed to allow the Old Gods to return."
This, together with the original magic system, reminded me of N.K. Jemisin's The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms and The Fifth Season, where similar issues are also examined.

The characters are also perfect for this kind of atypical fantasy story. Unar, for instance, is a very compelling case of a flawed but charismatic protagonist. She has a really clear goal that, sometimes, makes her take the wrong decisions, but despite that, she can still rethink her attitude when confronted with a moral dilemma. A very intriguing and really three-dimensional character, as many of the others in the novel. I did especially like the way the gods and their servants are depicted, all of them with their quirks and unique personalities. 

The plot is also interesting, with some nice twists and unexpected turns, but I found it a bit uneven sometimes. For instance, some of the chapters that take place in Understorey felt a bit longer than necessary, while the ending was, comparatively, much more rushed. Also, although the tone is very appropriate and well-chosen, the prose was too flowery for me in places, making some scenes a bit confusing. 

In any case, and despite the pacing problems, I enjoyed Crossroads of Canopy quite a lot and I recommend reading it. Thoraiya Dyer has invented a fascinating world, full of magic, monsters, gods and intriguing characters. Also, there are many open threads and unanswered questions by the end of the book,  so I am looking forward to reading the next volume in the series to find out what happens to Unar and her friends.          

jueves, 9 de febrero de 2017

Cristina Jurado reviews Certain Dark Things and interviews Silvia Moreno-Garcia

It is an enormous pleasure to have Cristina Jurado again at Sense of Wonder. She was one of the first collaborators of this blog and she is, without a doubt, one of the most illustrious. Today, she reviews Certain Dark Things while she interviews her author, Silvia Moreno-Garcia (you can also read this post in Spanish). Hope you enjoy it!


Certain Dark Things:
Vampires and drug trafficking in an alternative Mexico

I discovered Certain Dark Things in the most unusual way. I was talking to Lavie Tidhar when he mentioned the project he was working on, The Jewish Mexican Literary Review, the magazine he publishes with Mexican-Canadian Silvia Moreno-Garcia. I had the opportunity to ask her some questions, which I’m going to share with you in this review. When I inquired about the magazine, she replied: “I call it an avant-garde zine. It’s something I run together with Lavie Tidhar. I believe he called it… maybe he said it was a punk or underground zine? It’s just something we do for fun, a compilation of prose, poetry, interviews with artists. If we were in the 90s it’s the kind of thing we would have photocopied and stapled together and given away at grungy little venues. It speaks to the rebellious little shitheads in both of us. Anyway, check it out. It’s free.”

The first thing that caught my attention from this Canadian author was the fact that she writes exclusively in English. She told me that, for the time being, writing in Spanish was not an option. “No. For two reasons. By the time I started writing seriously I had already moved to Canada. I was very far away from Mexico. It didn’t seem convenient (especially at the time, it was 2006 and many magazines were still reading manuscripts and stories that came by mail). So it only made sense to write in the local language. Plus, I really enjoy English and the challenge of handling it because it was not, it’s not my first language. I want to improve my French at some point and get it up to the same level. Anyway, so there was that. Then there is the reality that there is no one interested in my work in a Spanish speaking country. There are no speculative fiction publishers or important magazines in Mexico. I have had two stories translated into Spanish, both for anthologies edited by Federico Shaffler called Teknochtitlán. This last one can be downloaded for free online and the Arts and Culture ministry of the state of Tamaulipas sponsored it. And that’s the way it goes. There is no commercial publishing of speculative fiction. It seems to be the same in other parts of Latin America, and even in Spain. Books are translated from English to Spanish but there is very little local talent being fostered. So then the few people writing in Spanish have to turn to one of the few, small publishers or have to self-publish, which is a big commitment because if you self-publish you are having to run a small business.

 I’ve had no queries from publishers to translate my novels into Spanish, so I also don’t know there’s much interest in my work. In general, I think editorials want a sure thing in translation and whatever cool cache I’ve accumulated because my novels have had some critical acclaim (NPR best of the year list, Locus finalist, British Fantasy finalist, etc.) I don’t think that’s nearly enough to make people terribly interested in me. It is what it is, I’m lucky to have sold a few novels in any language. I have translated several stories for projects I have edited (yes, I’m an editor, too) and toyed with the idea of a magazine that translates fiction in Spanish to English, or some sort of bilingual compendium, but this would be an enormous expense. I couldn’t undertake it. Maybe one day.”

I was curious about this writer’s writings and so I read Signal to Noise, a fantasy novel about ancient magic, music, teenage years and the awakening of love. I was surprised by its rhythm and good prose. Lavie already had talked to me about Silvia’s next thing, Certain Dark Things. So, when he mentioned the word “Narcovampires” I did not stop until reading it. 

I was very curious about the genesis of this story: “The trouble with me is I don’t keep organized notes”, explains Moreno-Garcia. “Since I work a full-time job I’m often working on fiction at weird moments. So I’ll be eating a hamburger during lunch and scribble something on a napkin. There are several instances where I got home and I couldn’t read a word because it had ketchup on it. And my notes are pretty frantic, too. So I don’t recall the exact genesis of many things. Certain Dark Things grew out of a short story I sold to a vampire anthology called Evolve 2. I’ve done a bunch of vampire stories with different approaches (“Stories with Happy Endings” has a Mexican reporter interviewing a vampire, “A Handful of Earth” is about Dracula’s brides, etc.). I was born in the border zone in Mexico, right next to the US, and that’s where there’s been a lot of narco crime in the past few years so I think it grew out of that. I think it was just a way to channel my anxieties about my birth country. Vampires are a lot less menacing than criminals, than poverty, than drug addiction. But as for was there a particular moment when I said “there are gangs,” it’s just blurry. The story really began for me when Domingo sees Atl in the subway, just an image, and then come all the questions. Who are they? Where are they going? What are they thinking? Sometimes it’s an image, sometimes it’s a line, it’s the hook that gets you going.”

The way Moreno-Garcia fits fantasy into every day life in a natural and credible manner is fascinating. About this, the author says, “I write in a variety of genres, not just fantasy. It just happened that my first few novels could be called fantasy, although they tend to overlap with other categories (Certain Dark Things has been called a cyberpunkish novel). It’s more evident in my short fiction that I don’t just use one ‘language’ because I go from horror to science fiction to anything in between. I’m actually moving away from speculative fiction right now and into crime writing in the next few years. I feel an affinity for fantasy due to my childhood and my exposure to folklore and oral storytelling but it’s not my sole focus. On the other hand, I like realist fiction very much. I like character studies. I like magic realism, which blurs boundaries. And all of this means I have an interest in the mundane and the strange things you find in the mundane. Which are multiple and many.”

The author introduces the novel through the character of Domingo, a drifting youngster surviving in the streets of Mexico City. His terrible personal story has not stripped him of certain innocence, and of the capacity to perceive the positive around him. His encounter with Atl, member of the Tlähuihpochtin, a matriarchal clan of Aztec females vampires, will change his life, making him discover from within the world of vampire families that control part of the drug trafficking.

Moreno-Garcia sets the story in an alternative present in which vampires are known to the world, and in which some countries have chosen to close their borders to them. In this context vampires are a different species than humans, and while humankind considers them very dangerous because of their enhanced mental and physical capacities, vampires despise humans because of their weaknesses. I think the novel reflects about xenophobia in a bidirectional way. “I’m in general more interested in intra-community conflict and issues of class and poverty. There are some scattered thoughts about colonialism in the book, but I don’t think it’s my Big Xenophobia Book. I have a Master’s degree in Science and Technology Studies and the focus of my research was eugenic science in the early 20th century. It’s been interesting watching the rhetoric in the US these days because a lot of that is an exact reproduction of dialogue and thoughts about racial groups, which were in vogue in the early 20th century. I could copy and paste words from famous eugenicists of the time and you would have a hard time knowing if Trump said it or it was someone one hundred years ago. The same fears are certainly there, the same ways of wording them persist. So at some point I feel I will write a novel, which focuses on that. I have a title for it (Villautopia) and a blurry outline. There was a novel in 1919 by a Mexican writer called Eugenia, which had eugenicist themes and in that book everyone lives in Villautopia. That would be the big Xenophobia Book. But I don’t know when I would work on it. But because of my research and my general interests it is very likely that some of the stuff I was exploring and had to do with eugenics slipped into the vampire book. So you may just be seeing my subconscious more clearly than I am right now.”

The author reinvents the vampire myth, enriching it with Aztec, Mexican and other cultural traditions’ references. “I don’t like writing series. I get bored writing in the same genre, never mind the same universe. The novel was bought as a stand-alone and I doubt the publisher might be interested in a sequel, I’ve certainly heard nothing of that sort. My next few books deal with other stuff so a sequel is not in the near future. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t write another book in that world, but right now it’s not my priority and even if I did it wouldn’t be a series. There are too many topics that interest me for me to lock myself into one. I’ve written stories which reference Prehispanic cultures before. In this case, it seemed a natural fit. Aztec thought was concerned with notions of sacrifice, blood, life, battle and renewal. I thought it made a good background element for the character of Atl.”

Each vampire family displays different abilities: some are shape-shifters, others can alter the will of those around them, there are even some who can have food or can expose themselves to sunlight, etc. In a certain way, I believe the author is able to built a more updated and less idealized version of the myth, much less romantic than some modern takes, but far more interesting. The relationship of mutual dependency between Domingo and Atl help us understand the power struggles among vampire clans, the inaction of corrupt police, and the self-interested intervention of drug cartels. This novel is an interesting canvas of the organized crime scene in big cities. Apart from having a notorious world building, this story it is an urban fantasy full of adventures and local culture references. The end seemed to me especially well chosen, the only one that could offer a closure without falling into a predictable solution. 

This novel could be interpreted as a YA book (the main characters are young, it is the story of the becoming of an age, secondary characters serve as guides or helpers…). Nevertheless, the violence and the uncompromised language makes this book, in my opinion, an adult one. 

Silvia Moreno-Garcia also shared her future plans: “My novel The Beautiful Ones is out October 2017. I call it a novel of manners with a fantasy element. My agent has my next novel on his desk. It’s called Lords of Xibalba and deals with Mayan gods in 1920s Mexico. I’m hoping he can sell that. And right now I’m one third of the way through a science fiction novella called Prime Meridian. Which I also hope to sell. And after that I’m taking a year off to do some research and reading for my next novel, which is going to be a crime book with no fantastic elements set in the 1990s.”

lunes, 30 de enero de 2017

Reviews of novellas by Kai Ashante Wilson and Paul Cornell


(Disclaimer: English is my second language, so I want to apologize in advance for there may be mistakes in the text below. If you find any, please let me know so that I can correct it. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.)

Review Soundtrack: I suggest reading this review while listening to A Taste of Honey, by Chet Atkins (Spotify, YouTube).

It has been much longer that I intended since I last reviewed a batch of novellas published by Tor.com. In fact, in the past few weeks I've been devoted to closing up my 2016 reading and I confess that I still need to catch up with what Tor.com has released in 2017. But, in the meantime, I want to, at least, write down my impressions of three works that I (mostly) read in November and December: A Taste of Honey, by Kai Ashante Wilson, and Witches of Lychford and The Lost of Lychford, both by Paul Cornell. 

A Taste of Honey has been highly praised and I am sure it will be included in many awards shortlists in 2017. However, I am afraid that I have to give a "minority report" on this one. In fact, I was unable to finish reading it and I quit after I was roughly a quarter in. One important problem I found was that I didn't connect with the characters at all, and neither the worldbuilding nor the plot were of interest to me.

However, my principal issue with A Taste of Honey was that I quite disliked Wilson's style and tone. I know, I know, I'm probably alone on this one, for his prose is one the elements of his writing that people praise the most, but I just couldn't get into. And, to tell the truth, this problem is not new to me. I had tried listening to the audiobook version of The Sorcerer of the Wildeeps some months ago and I was also unable to finish it. So, I am afraid I can't recommend this novella. You must take my opinion with a (big) grain of salt, though, for most people seem to love Wilson's work and, thus, you mileage will very likely vary. 

My experience with Paul Cornell's Lychford novellas was much more satisfactory. I read Witches of Lychford around Halloween last year (a really adequate moment!) and I liked it so much that, shortly after, I was starting The Lost Child of Lychford, breaking my golden rule of (almost) never reading two works by the same author in a short period of time. 

These Lychford stories are an amazing combination of urban fantasy and comedy, a mixture that I didn't know could work so well. And it all mostly comes down to the marvellous trio of protagonists that Cornell has given life to. They are completely disparate and, to be completely honest, they are not very good witches (one of them doesn't even believe in magic!). But the chemistry among them is just incredible despite (or, possibly, because of) their blatant differences in personality, attitude and experience.

In fact, I did like The Lost Child of Lychford even better than Witches of Lychford. Once that the three women know each other and begin working as a team, the full potential of the world imagined by Cornell develops and explodes. The plot is tighter and more interesting and, what is even better, this story plants the seeds for many new adventures to come, something that I am already looking forward to, For all these reasons, I chose The Lost Child of Lychford as one of my favourite 2016 novellas.

All in all, I heartily recommend the Lychford series by Paul Cornell, a fun urban fantasy saga with three fascinating protagonists. Regarding A Taste of Honey I honestly don't know what to say. I didn't find it to my taste (no pun intended), but it may very well be just a particular quirk of mine. Anyhow, Tor.com keeps offering a varied and appealing range of novellas and I will keep reading them and informing you about my findings.

(You can also read this review in Spanish/También puedes leer esta reseña en español)          

lunes, 23 de enero de 2017

Bridging Infinity, anthology edited by Jonathan Strahan


(Disclaimer: English is my second language, so I want to apologize in advance for there may be mistakes in the text below. If you find any, please let me know so that I can correct it. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.)

Review Soundtrack: I suggest reading this review while listening to Building the Infinite Bridge, by The Infinite Bridge (Spotify).

Bridging Infinity is the fifth instalment of what has been called The Infinity Project, a series of anthologies of hard science fiction edited by Jonathan Strahan that, in my opinion, have become the most important in the field in the last few years. In particular, Reach for Infinity, published in 2014, is probably one of my favourite anthologies ever (you can read my detailed review for more details on what I loved from the book). Thus, as you can imagine, I was really looking forward to reading this new book, especially because the topic, this time, is one that fascinates me: big structures and mega-engineering projects. 

Bridging Infinity is a solid science fiction anthology that includes original short stories by some of the most prominent current authors in the field. For instance, you will find works by Alastair Reynolds, Pat Cadigan, Charlie Jane Anders, Larry Niven, Gregory Benford and Ken Liu. An impressive line-up, no doubt. But after reading it, I couldn't help feeling slightly (just slightly) underwhelmed, probably because the previous instalments of the series had set the bar really high. 

There are many remarkable stories in Bridging Infinity. For example, I did enjoy reading "Sixteen Questions for Kamala Chaterjee", by Alastair Reynolds, "The Venus Generations", by Stephen Baxter, "Six Degrees of Separation", by Pat Cadigan and "Rager in Space", by Charlie Jane Anders. Especially the ones by Reynolds and Baxter have much of that sense of wonder that I was expecting from the book. However, their endings are not completely satisfactory and feel a bit rushed and anticlimactic, something that many of the stories included in the book seem to have in common. 

In addition to those four, there are another three stories that I think are the most memorable in Bridging Infinity and that are, by themselves, almost worth the price of admission. The first of them is "Parables of Infinity", by Robert Reed, a new story set in the Great Ship series and a very good one at that (probably the best story by Reed that I've read in a long while). 

The second is "Apache Charley and the Pentagons of Hex", by Allen Steele, which successfully combines a YA story with an intriguing mystery and an amazing mega-structure. The beginning of the story is just excellent and Steele completely managed to hook me from the very first page. However, again the ending is too rushed and I really think it would have benefited from a longer extension. 

Finally, the best story of the book is, hands down, "Seven Birthdays", by Ken Liu (which you can read online at Tor.com). Since publishing his first novel, Liu is no longer as prolific in the short fiction field as he was a couple of years ago, but with works such as this one he proves that he is still one of the best writers of short stories in fantasy and science fiction literature. In "Seven Birthdays", Liu nails almost everything: the tone, the speculation, the structure... One of my favourite stories of 2016.

All in all, as I've mentioned above, Bridging Infinity is a solid science fiction anthology with quite a number of good or very good stories, but most of them would need some more pages to completely exploit their potential. For that, my impression is that this new book is a step below Reach for Infinity or Meeting Infinity. Anyway, the anthology is quite enjoyable and I am already looking forward to new instalments in the series. 

lunes, 7 de noviembre de 2016

Review of novellas by Khaw, Penny and Williams


(Disclaimer: English is my second language, so I want to apologize in advance for there may be mistakes in the text below. If you find any, please let me know so that I can correct it. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.)

Review Soundtrack: I suggest reading this review while listening to The Future Never Dies, by Scorpions (Spotify, YouTube). 

In this new instalment of novella reviews, today I bring you the three most recent ones published by Tor.com: Hammers on Bone, by Cassandra Khaw, Everything Belongs to the Future, by Laurie Penny, and Impersonations, by Walter Jon Williams.  

The first of them, Hammers on Bone, is yet another Lovecraftian pastiche, on this occasion in the form of a classical noir story. As I mentioned when I reviewed The Dream-Quest of Vellitt Boe, by Kij Johnson, I am not really into Lovecraft and I didn't care much for that part of the novella. However, I did like how Khaw managed, from the very first sentence, to evoke an appealing atmosphere, well in the tradition of crime fiction, but with some innovative elements. 

The protagonist, John Persons, is also very interesting and his mysterious back story is only partially revealed in Hammers on Bone. Thus, if at it seems, this is just the first part of a series of novellas, I think there are enough elements to make the next instalment even better. I, for one, will be reading it. 

Everything Belongs to the Future is a very intelligent science fiction story that brings together medical, economical and social speculation in an almost perfect way. The beginning is really strong, and the idea of an eternal life medicine that can only be afforded by the well-off is, at the same time, plausible, scary and thought-provoking. 

I did also like the way Penny recreates the group dynamics and personal relationships of the activists. Again, really believable and provocative, especially because we are given some information that most of the characters don't know. I found some pacing problems after the first half of the story, but apart from that, I thoroughly enjoyed the novella and I recommend it. 

Impersonations, by Walter Jon Williams, is another science fiction novella, in fact one set in the universe of his Praxis novels. I didn't know when I started reading it and, when I realized, I was a bit afraid I wouldn't be able to follow the story or I would miss some important information, but I am happy to say that it is a stand-alone and can be enjoyed without any previous knowledge of the series. 

In fact, after reading Impersonations, I may give the rest of the Praxis stories a try, for I really liked the setting, with lots of political intrigue and, above all, the really interesting main protagonist, Caroline Sula, who strongly reminded me of another favorite of mine: Adam-Troy Castro's Andrea Cort. On the negative side, there were some coincidences that were too convenient for the plot to advance by the end of the book, but all in all, I really liked the novella and I'd recommend it to any science fiction fan. 

So, again, another three solid novellas from Tor.com. I did especially enjoy the two science fiction ones (Everything Belongs to the Future and Impersonations), but I guess you'll also like Hammers on Bone if Lovecraft is your thing. As always, my advice is to keep a close eye on anything published by Tor.com for they hardly disappoint. In fact, I have just finished reading the Lychford stories by Paul Cornell and they are really refreshing and entertaining. I will review them in detail later this month, so stay tuned!

(You can also read this review in Spanish/También puedes leer esta reseña en español)     

jueves, 6 de octubre de 2016

A Night Without Stars, by Peter F. Hamilton

(Disclaimer: English is my second language, so I want to apologize in advance for there may be mistakes in the text below. If you find any, please let me know so that I can correct it. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.)

Review Soundtrack: I suggest reading this review while listening to Warrior Angel, composed by Steve Buick as a part of the soundtrack for A Night Without Stars (Spotify).

As you may know, I am a big Peter F. Hamilton's fan. I consider him one of the top science fiction authors of the last few decades and his Pandora's Star is probably my favourite space opera novel ever. Thus, I was really looking forward to A Night Without Stars, especially because I had quite enjoyed The Abyss Beyond Dreams, the previous book in the series. Unfortunately, I found this new novel to be a bit of a disappointment. 

The beginning of A Night Without Stars is quite interesting. The first chapters are fast-paced, full of sense of wonder and feature the return of some characters from The Abyss Beyond Dreams as well as some nasty aliens from other novels set in the Commonwealth universe. They may not be as surprising and exciting as the opening of the previous novel, but they are solid and entertaining, exactly what I have come to expect from Hamilton. 

However, after this promising start, things change, in my humble opinion, for worse. The setting is restricted, mostly, to the planet Bienvenido, a couple of centuries after the events of The Abyss Beyond Dreams. For reasons that I'd rather not mention (it would be kind of spoilery), there is not much technology but not telepathic abilities either, making the worldbuilding a bit dull to my taste. Also, the political changes in the planet have given rise to a new, authoritarian government that is not very subtly depicted (and criticized). 

The plot did not interest me very much, either, with many pages devoted to what seemed to me repetitions of the same topics and many chapters focused on chases and escapes with not enough tension or intrigue. Not even the appearance of a beloved character was sufficient to keep my attention, and I confess that when I reached the final quarter of the book (which is extremely long) I began skimming and skipping full pages. There are some surprises in the final chapters which are more interesting than the central part of the story, but I am not sure that redeems a novel which dragged and meandered for so many pages as this one did.

All in all, A Night Without Stars is, by far, the book by Hamilton that I've enjoyed the less of all that I've read and, as I mentioned above, quite a disappointment. Your mileage may vary, for the reviews I've found online are mostly positive (and even enthusiastic), but my friend Leticia Lara, who read the novel at the same time as I did, seems to share my opinion (you can read her review in Spanish at her blog Fantástica-Ficción). 

(You can also read this review in Spanish/También puedes leer esta reseña en español)   

lunes, 26 de septiembre de 2016

Reviews of novellas by Johnson, Brennan and Evenson


(Disclaimer: English is my second language, so I want to apologize in advance for there may be mistakes in the text below. If you find any, please let me know so that I can correct it. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.)

Review Soundtrack: I suggest reading this review while listening to Memories (Somenone Will Never Know), composed by Clint Mansell for the soundtrack of Moon (Spotify, YouTube).

As I promised a few weeks, I am back with reviews of novellas. In this case, I want to talk about some books published by Tor.com which, in little more than a year, has become the imprint to follow in this format. My choices today are their three more recent releases: The Dream-Quest of Vellitt Boe, by Kij Johnson, Cold-Forged Flame, by Marie Brennan, and The Warren, by Brian Evenson. 

I was really looking forward to The Dream-Quest of Vellitt Boe, since Kij Johnson is the author of some of my favorite stories ever ("Twelve Monkeys, Also the Abyss", for instance). But, despite an interesting beginning, I couldn't help feeling a bit underwhelmed with this novella. This is (just another) response to the work of H.P. Lovecraft (in which I am not very interested, I must say) and it will probably appeal to many readers. However, I missed almost the references and found the central part of the story, a long trip in which the main protagonists visits different places and faces a number of monsters, a bit boring. I did like the ending and its original twist, but my overall opinion is that the story is just average and I did certainly expect much more from Johnson. Your mileage may vary, though. 

Cold-Forged Flame, my first contact with Marie Brennan's writing, was considerably more satisfactory. It starts with a not very original situation (a character who doesn't remember anything about her past), but the tone and the atmosphere are almost perfect and the reader is intrigued by the mystery from the very first page. I did also like the worldbuilding very much, and one of the pleasures of reading this story is the opportunity to discover new things about the peculiar magical island in which it takes place. I found the ending to be a bit rushed, but all in all this a very good novella and I recommend it. Also, I am looking forward to the sequel, Lightning in the Blood, that will be published in April next year; the setting really has a lot of potential and I want to find out more about the world and the characters. 

Finally, The Warren, by Brian Evenson, also starts with a protagonist with memory problems. But this novella is completely different from Cold-Forged Flame. To start with, The Warren is a very interesting mix of psychological thriller and science fiction, with a setting that reminded me of Wool, by Hugh Howey, and the movie Moon, directed by Duncan Jones. Also, the main character is a very particular case of a unreliable narrator, with a memory and identity that have been tinkered with, leading to a more than interesting effect:
At times, I become confused about the order in which things should be told. Parts of me know things that other parts do not, and sometimes I both know a thing and do not know it, or part of me knows something is true and another part knows it is not true, and there is nothing to allow me to negotiate between the two.
The Warren is not an easy read and it requires some effort and collaboration on the reader's part, but I think the final result is more than worth it even if no clean-cut explanations are given in each and every case. Also recommended. 

All in all, three more books that show, once again, that Tor.com can satisfy all your SF&F novella needs with both quantity and quality. And next month they will publish four more, really appealing titles. Stay tuned, for I will bring you their reviews soon!