No Man Can Tame (Dark-Elves of Nightbloom #1) by Miranda Honfleur

This was a book recommendation from another of my favourite fantasy romance authors Grace Draven, and I can see why I was right in picking it up. No Man Can Tame by Miranda Honfleur riffs on the time-honoured odd couple trope in a way that is utterly delightful if you are in the mood for some heart-warming, feel-good fluff as a palate cleanser. I will admit it straight up for you, my gentle readers, I make no apologies about occasionally indulging in this genre. Life is already absurdly GrimDark as it is, and sometimes a gal just has to enjoy dashing dark elf princes sweeping somewhat reluctant human princesses off their slippered feet.

That's not to say that No Man Can Tame doesn't have a meta plot that touches on topical issues such as intolerance – because we see lands ravaged by conflict, some of it caused by humans and some by magical beasts that have settled in human lands. Referred to as Immortali, these creatures include unicorns and other creatures, and also, of course, our immortal dark elves who live in their subterranean kingdoms. 

Princess Alessandra has been promised to the dark-elf Prince Veron. Somehow, these two, need to help heal the breach between their people and help foster lasting peace – a tall order, considering that there is a group of humans hellbent on destroying all Immortali. Aless is at first resentful of the fact that her father has essentially used her as a political bargaining chip, thereby scuppering the dreams she's had of establishing a library in her mother's memory. Now she has to journey to the realm of her soon-to-be-husband's people, who are also not wholly on board with this union. Veron himself has his doubts, but it's clear quite soon that these two complement each other perfectly: headstrong, intelligent Aless, and brave and loyal Veron.

Honfleur strikes just the right balance in her writing so that the romance elements don't overshadow actual plot, which is why I enjoyed this story so much and immediately downloaded book 2 so that it's queued up on my Kindle. If you're looking for an Italian-flavoured setting filled with magic, true love, and intrigue, with a side order of adventure, then this will hit the mark.

The True Bastards (The Lot Lands #2) by Jonathan French

Author Jonathan French is one of my happy discoveries this year, and The True Bastards was on my insta-buy list the moment it came out. Following from the catastrophic events ending book 1 The Grey Bastards, book 2 shifts the point of view to Fetching, who is now tasked with leading a diminished hoof in the increasingly hostile Lot Lands. With her close friends Jackal hunting a dastardly wizard and Oats away to fight for gold in the pits, Fetch shoulders the full burden of caring for her people while herself suffering with a debilitating sickness. And it's not an easy task, and she often faces brutal decisions. Leadership is not for sissies.

But that's only the start of the story. French never lets readers get too comfortable as Fetch and her companions constantly have the proverbial rug yanked from beneath their feet. This novel is a classic example of ever-escalating disasters that severely test the heroes as they fight to stay alive, harried by implacable enemies.

We get to see much more of the Lot Lands, with tantalising glimpses into the centaur and elven cultures. Ancient conflicts bubble to the surface, along with strange magic and new alliances, often at such a dizzying pace that I was left quite breathless and would have liked a little more introspection from Fetching. French dumps a lot of lore on us – so there's much to pick through. Consequently, at times (and especially near the end), the writing feels a bit rushed, but I can forgive him because I was thoroughly invested in the story and will most likely reread this novel at some point in the not-so-distant future.

While there is most certainly more to come in this setting, book 2 has a satisfactory ending, a perfectly good 'happy for now' that sees the groundwork laid for conflict to come (and look forward to). As always, I'm over the moon with the underlying premise of this setting that continues the trend of a spaghetti western with half-orcs on hogsback that subverts the expectations of typical adventure fantasy. French's writing is fun, fast-paced and action-packed, and brimming with fantastic interaction between characters I've grown incredibly fond of.

The Grey Bastards (The Lot Lands, #1) by Jonathan French

Okay. It's not every day that I discover a new author to stalk get excited about but Jonathan French grabbed me by my short and curlies and yanked so hard, I'm just about counting down the days till his book 2 (The True Bastards) gets released. And you're pretty much guaranteed that I will drop EVERYTHING I'm currently reading to gobble down that book once it's been released. And it's rare that I will froth about a novel as much as I am about this, but there you have it.

The Grey Bastards is the mongrel offspring of The Lord of the Rings having a secret, boozed-up tryst with Sons of Anarchy, and heavily flavoured with every awful spaghetti western I ever gobbled up as a child. It's action-packed, filled with intrigue, and we follow the half-orc Jackal as he makes one bad decision after the other to save his hoof, The Grey Bastards. Even the concept is just so different from any of the fantasy I've read of late – I mean, you can't get more out there than half-orcs astride giant hogs. As in actual oversized piggies. And yet somehow it works. And it all hangs together for a smashing ride that has a ring of authenticity to its telling.

French dumps you right in the midst of a dusty, blood-drenched world where the assorted hoofs control territories within the Lot Lands, that act as a buffer between the human kingdom of Hispartha and the incursions of the orcs, who have previously sowed devastation. The assorted hoofs are all that stand between Hispartha and another dreaded incursion, and the half-orcs know it all too well.

French is a masterful storyteller, who effortlessly weaves in threads that eventually pull together into a devastating tapestry at the end. He writes with heart, telling a cracking adventure story but with memorable characters who are all incredibly well defined, set within a world that is heavy with history. I hadn't realised I was looking for a book like this one until I picked it up.

I realise I'm fangirling horribly, but allow me to do so. I was so engaged with this novel I honestly didn't feel like nitpicking at anything. I had way too much fun.

Oh, did I mention this book has elves?

The Sundering by Jacqueline Carey

Unless you’re a Tolkien fan, I don’t recommend going into Jacqueline Carey’s duology The Sundering unless you’re aware that she’s going to take the tropes we all know and love so much, and twist them on their heads. I can see what she’s doing. I was prepared for it. This book is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea, especially not if they’ve read and enjoyed her other works which are a totally different breed of novel (lush, textured, sensual).

The premise is simple: Take the tropes of The Lord of the Rings, and write a story told from the losing side; subvert readers’ expectations. This is not happy epic nor is it a comfortable read, especially for those accustomed to fantasy where the good and evil are easy to identify. By the time I was finished with both books, I was rooting for those who’d traditionally be considered evil, and yet by equal measure I *felt* for those who saw themselves in the right. And oh, did I feel sorry for them for being so ideologically possessed. I suppose there’s a lesson to be had here.

All the standard tropes are present, but instead of mindless monsters, our orcs/fjel are portrayed as possessing sensitivity (and they make art!). The elves are stuffy, obsessed with things staying the same. The humans are…well… Humans do what it is they always do. The glimpse we do get of dwarves breaks the mould in terms of them being ore-digging smiths. Rather they are nature-loving, tree-hugging pacifists. And yes, there are dragons (Carey *gets* dragons). Mix this all together with the quest of the Bearer, who must carry the Water of Life that quenches the marrow fire that protects the only weapon that can kill gods, as well as adding one meddlesome wizard and a sorceress who gets tangled in the affairs, and you’ve got your plot.

There’s more to this story than merely good vs. bad. The heart of the tale investigates the notion that viewpoint matters, and once you ascribe justifiable motivation to any cause, it lends weight to the outcome. In this case, the meta story would be the war between stasis and dynamic change. And it’s an open-ended story that echoes Tolkien’s Last Alliance of Elves and Men, which unashamedly sets up the stage for what could have been a follow-up.

My feelings on this duology are complex. Yes, I enjoyed it. I wouldn’t recommend it to all fantasy readers, as the style Carey aims for here is closer to Tolkien’s, so if you don’t like Tolkien, just don’t go here – you may find the narrative dry and the characters unlikeable. Especially in terms of modern conventions, this feels like older, classical fantasy told in third person verging on omniscient. (Which incidentally is difficult to get right, but Carey manages this well.) But I can see what she’s done here. And I applaud her for being subversive, and would even offer her a GrimDark badge of honour for this work.

Elves: Once Walked with Gods by James Barclay

Elves: Once Walked with Gods by James Barclay is a book I wanted to like, and certainly the premise was solid enough to catch my fancy, but I struggled to finish the story. It’s not that the writing is terrible – it’s just that the author’s style seems to be adequate rather than enchanting, if that makes sense.

The bare bones of the story is that the elves once suffered a terrible defeat on their home world, and only barely escaped to a new world. Except their leader, one Takaar, shamed himself by running away during that first conflict and has spent the past while going quietly mad out in the forest while his people continue without him.

A concept I quite liked was that Barclay’s elves aren’t all immortal - there are different lineages or threads, as he calls them, that have different lifespans. This is also a source of internal conflict for the elves, obviously with the more longer-lived threads lording it over the ones with briefer lives. And it’s this very same conflict that makes them vulnerable when humans invade.

While the elves have elite warriors, who’re absolutely super in battle, the humans have access to devastating magic. It’s pretty clear early on that things are going to go wrong, in a bad way. The setting was pretty interesting too – Barclay decided on a rainforest where the primary conflict takes place. So that was a bit different from the usual offerings. I do admit, however, I’m an old-school team elven – so I’m not nuts about the idea of elves growing beards, but that’s Barclay’s world building for you. At least they shave, I guess. (Yes, yes, ruined by Tolkien; I admit it freely.)

Another gripe I had with the story was that I don’t feel as if Barclay delved deep enough into characters’ motivations or emotions – he has a large cast, some of whom only have brief appearances. So it’s difficult to keep track of who is who, and who did what to whom. Also, there’s a lot of history and special terms tossed about, so it takes a while to get into the flow. Mostly, I just felt frustrated, because I couldn’t really get into any of the characters fully.

Look, this is not a bad story. If you prefer your fantasy action packed and fast paced, with loads of combat, you’re most likely going to be reading this story for those exact reasons, and then this book is fine. Unfortunately, I’m not that reader, and I wanted more. This is also clearly book one in a series, so don’t expect a grand ending with all the loose ends neatly tied with ribbons. Unfortunately I’m not invested enough to pick up the rest.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison #fantasy #review

Title: The Goblin Emperor
Author: Katherine Addison
Publisher: Tor Books, 2014

Every once in a while, a fantasy novel comes around that doesn’t follow the trends that one almost comes to expect of the genre. If you’re the type who’s looking for sword and sorcery, flaming dragons and epic quests involving objects of power, this is not your novel. If, however, you’re looking for a slow-moving, gradually unfolding tale about an uncomplicated young man who finds himself quite suddenly thrust into the predicament of becoming an emperor, Maia’s story might just well be what you’re looking for.

Maia is the unwanted result of the marriage between the the Goblin princess Chenelo and the emperor of the Elflands. What was supposed to be a political marriage was never intended to produce an heir, let alone a halfbreed, and Maia has spent most of his childhood growing up in an isolate estate with only a relative to care for him (and not very well at that). When the emperor and his heirs die in freak airship accident, Maia is thrust from anonymity onto the emperor’s throne, as he is eldest heir.

Court politics, as he soon discovers, can be deadly, and not everyone is pleased that a half-Goblin is seated on the throne. What also counts against him is his complete naïveté when it comes to intrigue and yet, this very same weakness also proves to be his greatest strength while he establishes his rule. What is clear from the outset is that Maia is a good person. His honesty, his almost-painful lack of guile, elicited a need for me to see him succeed in the snake pit of the imperial court.

There are moments when his social ineptitude made me cringe, but by equal measure watching him grow into his role was ultimately rewarding, even if most of the action – this is partly a murder mystery – takes place offscreen, so to speak. Such action, as it occurs, is brief, and focus is rather placed on the subtle, interpersonal relations between the characters.

This is not a fast-moving novel by any measure. Katherine Addison’s prose is detailed and textured, and at times the array of names for people and places is bewildering (and possibly intentionally so, to create a sense of disorientation that Maia might feel at his situation). Yet the story is compelling, down to the last chapter, to be savoured for the rich world building and the slow weave of power play. The Goblin Emperor’s awarding of the 2015 Locus Award for “Best Fantasy Novel” is well deserved.

The Children of Húrin by JRR Tolkien #review

Title: The Children of Húrin
Author: JRR Tolkien
Edited by: Christopher Tolkien
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers, 2008

There’s a reason why I keep going back to Tolkien when I end up discussing the fantasy genre or even just how to approach the creation of epic worlds. Not to say that Tolkien was the first (because he had precursors who’re rarely, if ever mentioned), but he was most definitely the first in the genre to gain legendary status (and now has JK Rowling snapping on his heels).

Though by contemporary standards, I argue that Tolkien is not for everyone – his style is rather dry, patriarchal even – and it’s clear that this is a man who was obsessed with world-building rather than characterisation. While The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings appear to be perennial favourites with legions of new readers each generation, Tolkien’s other works are perhaps left for the die-hard fans.

The Silmarillion is a prime example. I butted heads with it during my teens when I’d just finished my first immersion into The Lord of the Rings. I hated it. Didn’t finish it. I went back to it years later, and was absolutely blown away – not by the writing so much – but by the sheer mass of imagination. The scary thing was realising that the events that transpired in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings were only a thin sliver of Tolkien’s entire creation, now that was astounding.

And I found myself wishing that he had gone on to write more, because what we’re left with is but a skeleton.

It’s taken me years to read The Children of Húrin. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew it wouldn’t be an easy path to tread. Tolkien makes you work for it – the language usage is more akin to sitting at the fireside listening to an old storyteller recount a saga than the immersiveness of current authors such as Mark Lawrence, George RR Martin or Robin Hobb.

Having recently completed a university course on Greek mythology, I can draw parallels between that and how Tolkien approached The Children of Húrin. This is not a comfortable story. The heroes are tragic, flawed. Túrin’s hubris results in his inevitable downfall, and his victory against Glaurung is pyrrhic. The dragon itself is but a dark mirror, reflecting a twisted truth that paralyses heroes. Ophelia-like, Niënor is flotsam, cast adrift in a dark tide; though her love is pure, it is misdirected. I saw the greater tragedy approach from a distance, and could do little more than wait for the ultimate wrapping up of cruelties.

There is little that is noble about any of the characters in this story. Even the elves are cast in such a way to show that they too suffer through their excessive pride – something that the dread Morgoth doesn't hesitate to exploit. The antagonist is but the catalyst around which the others trip and fall, however for those who have distance from the situation, it is easy to make a judgment call.

If you’re a die-hard Tolkien fan, like me, and you’re yet to read The Children of Húrin, I’ll fully recommend it. It’s not quite as heavy going as The Silmarillion, and it’s going to fill in a good few gaps in your fantasy geekdom. As a template of epic tragedy, this one’s got it all. At time of writing (a week since completing my read-through), I’m still smarting and bruised. And feeling as dissatisfied and annoyed as I was at the end of Dragon Age: Inquisition. And I’ll read this one again. And again. Because: elves, dragons, beautiful worlds, sadness and tragedy.

PS, if you’re emotionally correct and easily upset by bad stuff that happens to good people, go read about unicorns pooping rainbows. This book will make you very, very angry and you’ll probably ask for it to be banned from your library.