Precursor (Foreigner #4) by CJ Cherryh

The more I look at this series, the more I begin to realise how prescient Cherryh is in terms of socio-cultural world building – there are lessons for us that are relevant today. For the sake of those who're not invested in this gargantuan series, I'll keep my review short and sweet. 

Humans and the indigenous atevi are simply hardwired differently. But the humans are doing what humans in a post-colonial situation gone tits-up usually do – lean on their incredible sense of entitlement to make a fraught situation worse. And now, added to the mix, we have humans who've returned from an interstellar jaunt to lay claim to the atevi home world's natural resources and the space station orbiting the planet. Even worse, they're fleeing from a big bad from another solar system that may have followed them here.

The space station is a big point of contention. The humans abandoned it ages ago, and now the atevi want to lay claim to it – especially since they've seen the possibilities of space travel thanks to having been given access to the humans' technology. The big question is will everyone play nice (of course not!).

And we're once again walking in our interpreter/diplomat/spy's shoes as Bren, our intrepid paidhi, attempts to navigate this political minefield. As always, his loyalties are called into question – he's been working for the leader of the atevi's strongest political power for so long that he struggles to relate to humans. Yet he can never forget that he's not atevi. The lens with which he views his world is distorted, and at a time when the stakes couldn't be higher, this is a dangerous place to be.

As much as he'd like to remain impartial, he can't help but be drawn into the murky dealings, and things get dangerous, fast – especially when Bren thinks that he has a handle on things. He has some pretty nifty manoeuvrings to perform, and the tension in this instalment had me clawing at my seat. Nothing is ever easy, and everyone he knows – or thinks he knows – has a few spanners to throw at him. Trust, when it's most needed, is in short supply, which is a problem when each group suffers from the conviction that their way of doing things is the only way.

This is part political thriller, espionage, and good, old-fashioned space opera. Advice to any South Africans wanting to read Cherryh's books – they're hard to come by. Either listen to the audiobooks or visit Thriftbooks or Abe books.

Siren's Call (the Doomsday Cycle Book 1) by TJJ Klamvik

I find these days that not much in terms of the premises for science fiction will draw me in – possibly because in real time, things are speeding up so fast with current affairs that I'm often cognisant of the fact that SF can easily become dated. As an author myself, I know this all too well. But TJJ Klamvik caught my attention with Siren's Call, and held it, which despite it being a rather long work, is something. 

This is a book that has somewhat of an identity crisis, which – hear me out – is likely its strength. The big takeaway that I had reading the thing from cover to cover is that it's really three, loosely interlinked, standalone novels rolled up in one, with chapters alternating between the three point-of-view characters – hardbitten police detective Adelia Duarte, special ops soldier Sergeant Marshal Jones, and somewhat jaded politician Justynia Freid.

As the three narratives unfold, readers are given a Bladerunner-esque noir detective story, a top-secret military recon mission on a deserted planet, and a gradually unfolding diplomatic disaster – all while wondering how the heck this all ties in together. Which made for some interesting reading. And I quite loved the contrasts, trying to figure out what exactly Klamvik had in mind.

Of course, I'm not going to spoil. What I will say is that Klamvik tells a darned fine story, delivering plenty of social commentary that is relevant for all the nonsense currently going on in the world. Yes, this is a long work. It may possibly have benefited from a little more snip-snippety-snip during edits, but even the length of the novel didn't put me off, as there was always something of interest (I'm a veteran of greats like CJ Cherryh, Mary Gentle, Kate Elliott, et al, so word counts don't scare me.) And, while none of the characters were particularly likeable to me, they held my interest because they're relatable. I respect an author who can manage that.

The narrative is simultaneously deeply personal while dealing with earth-shattering events, in terms of what's going on in the wider world, so there's quite a bit of depth and breadth, which I appreciate. Also, I dig that Klamvik doesn't do any hand-holding. You're in the deep end with this one, baby, and without floaty armbands. I like SF that does that.

The Collapsing Empire (The Interdependency #1) by John Scalzi

This is my introduction to John Scalzi's writing. I've been following him awhile now on social media, and I gel with his vibe, so it was good to get to see what he's writing is all about. The Collapsing Empire is a fine case of space opera, if this is something that you're in the mood for, and it it's fast-paced and absurdly funny. Of course this does mean that the characterisation falls a little by the wayside, but it's more the biting social commentary that kept me going.

The premise is simple – in a hyper-capitalistic society that is spread out across the stars, it stands to reason that being able to reach the most far-flung parts of the empire and communicate is rather important. It would be a pity if the method of transport through a figurative hyper-space were to fail...

But this is exactly what is happening, and those who control the information have a leg up on those who don't, and how they choose to deploy any advantage they have in the matter will of course send the story spiralling into all manner of directions.

Scalzi is witty, a keen observer of society and human nature, and for those reasons alone he's a treat to read. There's a kind of wry, acerbic wit imbued in some of the situations that had me smirking to myself while I read. 

We see this story from the point of view of three characters – a reluctant absolute ruler, a scientist who says it like it is, and a scion of a powerful trading family. All will be affected once the Flow implodes, and the society that everyone has, up until now, taken for granted and milked for riches without much though to the consequences, is coming to an end. Which is kinda prescient for what we're facing at present.

Inheritor (Foreigner #3) by CJ Cherryh

It's probably going to take me forever to finish reading all the books in CJ Cherryh's Foreigner series, of which Inheritor is book 3... And for the sake of those who're not conversant with the world, I'll keep this review short and try to give general points.

Human ambassador/diplomat Bren Cameron continues to be adrift in Atevi society, which is, as always, a potentially lethal minefield for those not adept in the subtle power dynamics of a non-human civilisation. And that's the mistake many humans make when interacting with the Atevi – they simply don't have the hardwiring to understand core human concepts like love or caring. Atevi social dynamics is primarily focused on power and associations of individuals to others and groups that hold power.

In learning an intricate language that is has complex mathematics embedded in its linguistics, Bren finds himself even more alienated from human culture and meaningful interaction – a position which is made even more precarious as factions within the minority human community are viewing him as a traitor while certain groups within Atevi society would gleefully see him dead, too.

The planet's power dynamics have been thrown completely out of whack by the arrival of the human space ship, with the spacefaring humans in dire need of supplies they can only obtain from the planet. We see human and ateva alike vying for primacy in a new space race, as the Atevi assimilate human technology that might make them all but unstoppable if they gain interstellar travel. 

Added to the mix are two human diplomats from the space ship who are now negotiating on the ground – for people who've known only the confines of life on board a vessel for generations, the adjustment to living on a planet is traumatic. 

Cherryh does a deep dive into interpersonal relationships within a distorted, multicultural society in a complex, nuanced way, which may make this a trademark slow read, but as always, she subtly works to pull the rug from beneath your feet near the end, with sudden, frantic action that had my heart racing.

New Moon (Luna #1) by Ian McDonald

New Moon by Ian McDonald is one of those titles that I'm not quite sure how I feel about, even weeks after having finished the read. At first it reads like a series of loosely linked vignettes detailing the lives of the Corta family, founded by Adriana who was one of the first to settle there. Moving to the Moon is a one-way ticket for those who wish to make a life of it, since certain physiological changes make it impossible to return to a life on Earth. And depending on where you live, every breath, every drop of water is precious – and those who supply you with the credits to continue with your vital functions are very powerful individuals indeed.

We discover all too soon that politics on the Moon would put Machiavelli to shame, and conflict is resolved in how much blood is spilled.

What I liked about this novel was how Earth cultures are all smashed up, and the norms that we are accustomed to in present times are blatant non-issues. It does make the Moon brutal, but also a space where people are consciously alive – with a deeper understanding of the ephemeral nature of life. Take the moon run that the kids do every once in a while – naked and on the surface of the moon and exposed to a deadly environment. It's a rite of passage and darned dangerous, but they do it anyway. Because they can.

And like the theme of people running, the book itself carries itself at a breakneck pace, with multiple points of view that can make it a difficult read to get a handle on. This is both its strength and its weakness. Look, McDonald can write, and tells a cracking story often with lyrical, tactile prose, but I feel almost as if we don't fully immerse in the characters themselves – perhaps a side-effect of packing so much story into so many different characters. 

Violent and exultant, at times festive and over the top, New Moon is definitely thought-provoking, and will stay with me for a long time. I'm just not sure if I have stamina for the stories that follow.

Foreigner (Foreigner #1) by CJ Cherryh

Gosh, I must have been in my early- to mid-teens when I first picked up Foreigner by CJ Cherryh, and over the years I've kept meaning to read the entire series from start to finish again, now that it's easier for me to lay my grubby mitts on the books. Back then I relied extensively on the library for my reading, and it was generally impossible to find all the books that are part of a series. Well, it's still difficult as all heck – the ebooks simply aren't available here in South Africa for whatever obscure reason IDK. So, I'm relying on second-hand books when and where I can find them, and thankfully I'm slowly able to cobble together my collection.

It's always interesting to see what I take away from a book years later, upon a reread, and Foreigner is a prime example. Most of the subtexts went whoosh! over my head when I was younger. There's so much more that I've picked up now. The theme that is central to Foreigner is that of colonisation, and in this case, it's humans who've broken away from their orbital station to make landfall on a planet – this is after something went catastrophically wrong with their generation ship that's toddled off elsewhere while they try to survive in a solar system that was not their intended target.

Setting up a colony planet side would not have been so much of a bother if it weren't for the fact that a humanoid race with a complex socio-political structure already exists. The atevi are physically formidable and utterly alien in terms of their interpersonal relations. While humans might have the more advanced technology, that gives them an advantage when they first arrive, the atevi have numbers and an innate talent for violence that rivals our own. The inevitable conflict is brutal, and we join the bulk of the story a few years after peace has been negotiated – the atevi have ceded an island where the human settlers may live peacefully – in exchange for knowledge of their technology. Naturally, the humans are reluctant to hand over all the goods – after all, their position might become even more tenuous once they no longer hold any bargaining chips.

We see this entire situation through the eyes of Bren Cameron, the paidhi (diplomat, interpreter, perhaps spy) who has to walk the knife edge of human-atevi relations, and here Cherryh's masterful grip on the subtleties of characterisation come into play. Bren is isolated. He no longer relates to humans, and he's been among the atevi so long that he struggles with his own essence. He's neither fish nor fowl, and he has to constantly remind himself that the atevi are simply not hardwired like humans. His errors place him in one dangerous situation after the other, after a botched assassination attempt.

This is a slow boiler of a novel, as Cherryh not only explores Bren's increasing paranoia and sense of helplessness, but also brings readers into a deeper understanding of a culture that is vastly different from ours, not to mention inter-factional struggles that constantly knocked me out of my comfort zone. Patient readers will be amply rewarded with this rich, nuanced thriller chock-full of intrigue and detail. I've already laid hands on a rather noice hardcover version of book 2...

Firefly: Big Damn Hero Firefly, Book 1 by James Lovegrove

Firefly was one of those series on telly that I watched during the dawn of time, and I can't even really remember when and where, except that I enjoyed it for its rather unusual concept of mixing wild west with space opera. Naturally, I was sad that they discontinued the series, and I felt that the feature-length film that was intended to tie up the loose ends didn't quite work for me. So, I'm quite happy to see that there are a bunch of Firefly audiobooks available via Audible, and I'll be working my way through them as I get on.

Big Damn Hero by James Lovegrove, read by James Anderson Foster, brings us back to our beloved friends, Captain Mal, Inara, Zoë, Hoban, Kaylee, River, Jayne, Simon, and Shepherd Book, as they take on a fragile and rather volatile cargo that no one else will, 'cos that's how they roll. And, if you labour under the impression that their trip will go smoothly, think again. These things never quite turn out the way our brave heroes expect.

With Mal kidnapped by his erstwhile comrades-in-arms and put on trial for apparent crimes against the Browncoats, and his crew are sent running from pillar to post to a) find out what the heck happened to Mal, and b) figure out how in all the heck they're going to deal with an explosive cargo that could blow them into kingdom come if they're not careful. The clock is ticking...

So this was very much an 'edge of your seat' kinda ride, which I enjoyed. The pacing is fast, and it has all the expected feel I recall enjoying while watching Firefly on telly. I had a few quibbles, like the old 'punching someone's lights out to knock them out' routine which has become such a staple in most pulpy writing. Okay, so this pretty much is guaranteed to set my teeth on edge. Yes, I know it's SF. It's not real. But if you knock someone on the head hard enough for them to pass out longer than for a few seconds, they kinda need to get to the ER ASAP. Blunt force trauma and all.

What I did love was seeing some of Mal's prehistory in flashbacks – this gave his character far more depth than I'd expected. As far as farmboys-turned-intergalactic heroes, he's more Han Solo than Luke Skywalker – a very loveable rogue, but a rogue nonetheless.

Then, I have to offer Mal kudos for having the strongest bladder in the galaxy. He was tied up, needed to take a slash, couldn't, and somehow held it in despite a long, bumpy ride in a shuttle with a little roughing up along the way. That should be his super power. If you hold in your pee for longer than 10 hours... you start running into problems. Just saying... Mal has an iron bladder. Maybe even titanium. 

I also enjoyed seeing Zoë doing her tough-as-nails thing, stepping up to the plate with Mal otherwise occupied. And Shepherd Book also shows a surprisingly clandestine side you don't ordinarily see. There's way more to the man than his spirituality, is all I'm saying.

Firefly, as I recall, has always been a vehicle for biting social commentary, and Big Damn Hero is no exception. I guess because it's been such a long time since I watched the show, that it took me a while to grow accustomed to the "a western, but in space" theme, but it's fun and pulpy once you, ahem, swing back into the saddle. I'll recommend this one for the fans, since having a background understanding of the characters' interactions will most certainly enrich the audiobook experience. James Anderson Foster has a lovely voice, and he was a real treat to listen to. Come get your Firefly fix.

Mass Effect: Nexus Uprising by Jason M Hough, KC Alexander

I wish I'd read Mass Effect: Nexus Uprising by Jason M Hough and KC Alexander before I played Mass Effect: Andromeda. It would in all likelihood have changed much about how I played the game and offered me a much better understanding of the dynamics between the different characters. Be that as it may, Uprising presents a lovely bit of backstory about the troubles that arises on the Nexus before our plucky human Pathfinder arrives.

Security Director Sloane Kelly has her hands full when she awakens out of her her cryopod to a critically damaged space station, thousands of light years from help and the home they've left behind. With life support systems failing, hydroponics all but destroyed, and food supplies running low, the survivors are dropped into a race against time to get things back online before the first arks arrive from the Milky Way.

Of course, things are not smooth sailing, and what Nexus Uprising does well is show how all good intentions can go horribly, horribly wrong as factions start working against each other in a desperate bid for survival in a hostile environment. Kelly finds herself in a difficult position, playing middle woman between the decision makers and the security and engineers who are trying to keep it all together. Sometimes the right decisions are not always the easiest, and this is how we discover why Kelly ends up where she does in-game. A hint: she's not all bad, like you might assume the first time you meet her on your play-through. I won't spoil.

As always, if I have to pick favourite, it's the krogans. I really hope we get to see more of them in the future. It's so tempting for me to eventually replay ME:A just so I don't make some of the terrible choices I did in-game the first time around. Especially knowing more of the backstory that I know now. Overall, Uprising is a slow-boil thriller with a devastating conclusion that sets the tone for what our Pathfinder discovers once they arrive. I suspect this story won't be to everyone's taste, but I loved the characterisation, the way that all the characters were portrayed as being morally grey. It's always so tempting to make someone the big bad, which none of them really are. 

If you're looking for a space survival SFF story stuffed with intrigue and machinations, this one may well tick the boxes. Perhaps not as fast-paced as some would expect, it nonetheless provides context for events in-game that make this a valuable addition for the lore it offers.

Mass Effect: Nexus Uprising was included in my Audible subscription and is wonderfully narrated by Fryda Wolff, who voices Sara Ryder in Mass Effect: Andromeda and is a well-known voice artist for the gaming industry.

Mass Effect Andromeda: Annihilation by Catherynne M Valente

Tie-in fiction can often be a little hit and miss, and from what I've read of BioWare's offerings that supplement the games has often left me feeling somewhat let down. But then, on the other hand, I love the lore, can spend hours picking it apart, so there is that. And it's for this reason that I'll dig into the supplementary content because let's be honest, who has time to game much these days. 

I will admit that Mass Effect Andromeda was my starting point with the ME games, which is possibly not the best place to dig into the franchise, but there we have it. And while MEA didn't hit me with a cosmic 2x4 the way Dragon Age Inquisition did, I still enjoyed the game, glitchy as it was. As a noob to the ME world, I will also admit that I didn't have an established context for half the details taken for granted by others.

There's a lot of potential for content in the ME games, and I vaguely recall that the two books that tie in with MEA were meant to supplement the main storyline – and in Annihilation by Catherynne M Valente, we discover the fate of the Quarian Ark, the Keelah Si'yah.

The plot is very much a case of 'let's make a list of anything that can and will go wrong on a space-faring vessel' ... and then some. And considering when the novel came out, it was, ahem, oddly prescient in investigating how people deal with a pandemic. Part 'whodunnit', part MacGuyver-style quest, our desperate team must battle against the spread of a deadly disease and lack of resources, all while a metaphorical clock is counting down. No one ever said colonisation was easy, and if you're 600 light years out from your home world, there are no do-overs. You must make do, instead.

This was my introduction to most of the races that I didn't get to meet in the game, and I particularly loved the elcor doctor Yorrik with a penchant for Shakespeare. I will also admit that I struggled to tell my drells apart from my voluses, so if you've not played any of the games, you may want to visit the Wiki before plunging into Annihilation. 

This was, to my knowledge, the first Catherynne M Valente book that I've read – and she's been on my radar awhile now, and I reckon she does a good job with this story. It's a bit slow-moving, I suspect, for some tastes, but I enjoyed the gradual unfolding and ramping up of tension. And ick, the pandemic theme was a little too close to the bone for me. Tom Taylorson does a bang-up job narrating, and I have no complaints there.

While this hasn't been the greatest hit I'm going to crow about in reviews, this was still an enjoyable read for someone who's wanting a better frame of reference for the ME universe. Alas, poor Yorrik. 

A Blessing of Unicorns by Elizabeth Bear

I've been meaning to get into Elizabeth Bear's writing for a while now, so when A Blessing of Unicorns popped up in my Audible suggestions, I thought why the hell not. Only in hindsight do I see it's book 2 of a sequence of stories – The Sub-Inspector Ferron Mysteries, but it didn't bother me none that I missed the first instalment, and I may well go back to pick it up when I have a moment.

I will admit that it took a little getting used to narrator Zehra Jane Naqvi's voice, perhaps because the previous audiobook I'd listened to had been read by a man with a much deeper voice, but once I was over the initial shift, I got into Naqvi's style.

Set in the 2070s, which aren't that much different than current times, save for the deeper reliance on virtual and augmented reality than we have currently, A Blessing of Unicorns has Bangalore-based Police Sub-Inspector Ferron trying to figure out why internet-famous influencers are going missing. Not to mention figuring out why the missing women's flats are filled with small herds of artificial lifeforms in the form of multi-coloured unicorns.

Overall, this is a somewhat playful mystery that pokes sticks at society's tendency to put internet-famous influencers and their rather artificial lives on a pedestal. I enjoyed it, especially for the non-Western-centric flavour in speculating on an India of the future. And Ferron is a delight, and a pleasing change from the usual jaded, hard-bitten cops that often crop up in these sorts of stories.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

I have a terrible admission to make. In all my years, up until the tender age of 43, I had never read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Yes, I know. Unforgivable. Especially if you consider how iconic the character is in terms of how the monster has permeated Western culture in fiction and cinema. Chances are also good, that many of you might've seen the creature on screen rather than leap off the pages of the source material. And I'll add here that loads of people didn't quite get the nuance of Shelley's story when we peel back the layers to understand who the real monster is.

Hint: It's not the creature.

At least, that's not how I see it.

What makes Frankenstein or, as it's also known, The Modern Prometheus, even more amazing is that Shelley started writing it at the tender age of 18, and it was published when she was 20, in 1818. How many of us can boast such a feat? Hells, I only finished my first novel after I turned 30. And it certainly wasn't even a touch near the mastery that Shelley boasts.

Frankenstein is a classic example of a Gothic novel, and I'd hazard to argue that it firmly straddles both the science-fiction and horror genres, and if you're serious about writing SFF, it's one of those works that is an absolute must to have delved into if you consider yourself an author who has earned their chops.

I haven't had as much time as I'd have liked to sit down and read the novel, but was able to pick up a copy included in my Audible subscription – a win. So I'd like to give a massive shout-out to the narrator, Dan Stevens, who did an absolutely amazing job with his characterisation of not only Victor Frankenstein, but the creature, and also Captain Walton, all of whom are important narrators.

Each has a particular viewpoint of the situation as unreliable narrators of the story: Frankenstein in his hubris and denial in his role as creator; the creature in his failed quest for personhood; and Walton as an impartial observer who introduces and ties up the story. 

There's much more to this story than merely a mad scientist playing god – if you delve deeper, it's a look at what makes us truly human, the capacity to reason, to feel pain. On a meta-level, it can even be viewed as a story that shakes its fist at an uncaring, unfeeling and selfish god who creates without care for his creations. And, also, a cautionary tale of not taking anyone or any situation at face value – with far-reaching consequences. 

I kept asking myself: what if Victor had not recoiled in horror? How different would this story have been? Instead, I found myself growing increasingly angry with the man in his hubris and denial in his role for having created this monster. Yes, yes, there'd have been no story otherwise, but I couldn't help but feel for the wretched monster so desperate to find love and acceptance. 

If you, like me, have yet to give this story a spin in its original format, but don't have the time to read, then I wholeheartedly recommend this edition from Audible. It's incredibly well produced and Shelley's writing is nothing short of magnificent. 

Fleet of Knives: An Embers of War novel (Embers of War #2) by Gareth L Powell

We finish book 1 of Gareth L Powell's Embers of War trilogy with the discovery of an ancient fleet of ships, unmanned and linked together by an alien intelligence – the ominous Marble Armada. The sentient ship Trouble Dog and her captain, Sal, and the rest of their mismatched crew, are called from their holiday to answer a distress signal just as an almighty clusterf*** breaks out. Nope, not going to spoil it, but Powell drops us straight into turmoil then turns up the heat. Fleet of Knives is an aptly named title for book 2 in this trilogy.

New faces are the crew from the salvager Lucy's Ghost, who run into a spot of bother while looking for scraps in an ancient generation ship. Nope, not going to say what the spot of bother is, either, but I've watched Alien and the Event Horizon enough times to get the same kind of claustrophobic thrills with what Powell is doing here.

He ramps up the tension in such a way that I cannot conceive of how he's going to get his characters out of their pickle. And don't ever get too comfortable. If you think the characters get a breather, think again. It's only the quiet before the storm. I particularly loved the alien tech and the mystery behind how it works, which I'm sure will come into play again at a later stage – and yes, I've just bought book 3, because I need to know what happens next.

I'm so excited to see that Embers of War is coming to life onscreen – this one's going to be a cracker, and I'm glad to read it before I watch the series. One last word – I love the interplay between the human and non-human characters. Powell writes non-humans in a way that makes me smile. Anyhow, it's difficult to review this novel without spoilers, except to leave these words as encouragement for anyone who's a fan of space opera to go out and lay hands on this trilogy. It's worth every dollar.

Embers of War (Embers of War #1) by Gareth L Powell

It's been a while since I've encountered space opera that has been so effortless to slide into, and Embers of War by Gareth L Powell has all the hallmarks of my favourite stories. Honestly, Powell had me at the 'sentient space ships' part.

Central to the plot is the sentient ship Trouble Dog, who is employed by the search and rescue organisation The House of Reclamation. She and her dysfunctional crew, who are still smarting from the war in which they all served, are sent on a rescue mission when a liner is shot down on a planet-sized alien artefact. Yet what starts out as a seemingly simple rescue mission turns into a fight for survival that sees Trouble Dog hopelessly outgunned and in dire circumstances. Not only that, but they need to discover who is willing to kill to protect a greater mystery.

Powell's tale-weaving is eminently more-ish, and while his world building doesn't make my head implode with strangeness, his writing is absolutely what I needed to read at the time – an adventure, personality clashes among characters, and some wonderful, clever little twists at times when I feared the worst. I'm totally on board for book 2, which is already burning a hole in my Kindle app.

Dub Steps by Andrew Miller

Let me start by saying that Dub Steps by Andrew Miller was not quite the novel I expected when I started reading it. The premise hooked me, for sure. But what the ride was entirely unexpected in all the best ways. If you're expecting a TWD setting sans zombies, this is not your book. What you will get is a strangely reflective meandering on the meaning of life interspersed with people trying to figure out what they want while coping with a new reality where more than 99.99% of humankind simply winked out of existence in the blink of an eye. (You'll find out why, near the end, never fear, and it won't quite be what you expected.)

How the remnants cope, varies, and in the telling of their uncovering of their new world and the absurdity of the human condition, we get to know a variable cast of personalities. What I appreciated the most about Miller's writing is the way he humanised even the most unfortunate in his cast. Roy, our incredibly unreliable narrator, sets out on a journey that ends up being both inward and outward. Crippled by his sense of never fitting in, he nonetheless takes on a role within his tiny community of survivors in a South Africa transformed by its people's absence.

Miller manages to pack so much into this book. It is both poignant and pithy, and delivers so much social commentary, even if Roy's constant awkwardness and contrary nature got to me. He's exactly the kind of dude I'd love to hate, yet I couldn't help but feel fond of him. He's a sort of broken-wing, mediocre everyman, and a somewhat tragic figure who stumbles through his world. And yet Roy also displays uncommon wisdom at times, which redeems him as he compulsively attempts to chronicle the world that was – as if that will somehow help him understand what went wrong not only in his life but also preserve the story of the world that was.

While Dub Steps can be considered a work of dystopian science fiction, it's so much more than that. And much in the same way that our lives are messy, often unfinished and all over the place, this is a story that celebrates not only the ephemeral fragility of our existence, but shares the uncommon moments of unbridled joy. This is not an easy read, but it's one that I'll recommend, even if it left me feeling sad and somewhat scratchy behind the eyes by the time I was done.

The Subjugate by Amanda Bridgeman

Every once in a while I like to venture outside of my preferred genres, and The Subjugate by Amanda Bridgeman caught my eye. The author paints a vivid picture exploring how technology may very well impact our lives in the not-so-distant future. The world that she envisions means that every movement a person makes is recorded in some way. AIs and self-driving cars are the norm, but police are still required to provide the human element in fighting crime.

Yet some people – especially religious communities – have moved away from the city to enjoy more simpler lives, without all the surveillance. But when a murder is committed in Bountiful, a strict Christian community, the case presents detectives Salvi and Mitch with more than their fair share of obstacles.

Suspects abound within Bountiful, but things are further complicated by the nearby Solme complex, where dangerous offenders are treated using cutting-edge technology that renders them, as the word suggests: Serene. We follow Salvi's point of view as she unravels the clues that make her doubt even the people closest to her. Hard ethical questions are asked, with no easy answers provided.

The story has a slow build, with short scenes that speed up towards a tense conclusion, and I must commend Bridgeman for her stunning misdirection in terms of me figuring out who the killer was. I'm not a huge fan of crime fiction, but I really enjoyed the ride nonetheless. Salvi herself is a difficult character to get into at first, but as Bridgeman gradually reveals Salvi's past, her fanatical dedication to her police work makes all the more sense. There were times when I felt that Salvi herself was emotionally distant, but that could also just be part of her characterisation in that she keeps herself apart from the people and circumstances around her until she can no longer avoid dealing with the issues that challenge her.

Nebula Wards Showcase 2016

I didn't even think twice when I saw the Nebula Wards Showcase 2016 anthology, edited by Mercedes Lackey, on the shelf at my local bookshop – I bought it. And then I was pleased to see some familiar names – Eugie Foster, Aliette de Bodard, and Alyssa Wong. While I'm not going to go over every story or excerpt collected here, I will touch on the works that jumped out at me and why they resonated.

Aliette de Bodard's "The Breath of War" spoke to me as we meet Rechan, upon whose world expectant women need the support of their stoneman or -woman in order to give birth. This is a haunting tale infused with aspects of both fantasy and SF, and the mechanics of the sculpting of the sentient stone in this story reminds me a little of Robin Hobb's memory stone in the Farseer books. De Bodard examines the connections of family but also a deeper yearning of those who are never sure where their place is in existence, and being torn between the known and unknown.

Eugie Foster's "When it Ends, He Catches Her" is equally haunting, framed within a last dance between two lovers, and how memory endures, encapsulated within movement. The setting is desolate, and there is little hope here, but there is an intrinsic beauty that I've always associated with Foster's writing.

Alyssa Wong's "The Fisher Queen" is one of those scratchy-behind-the-eyes stories that stayed with me throughout as she takes the idea of mermaids and subverts it. What if an entire industry was based on *eating* mermaids? And what if they were put to *other* uses before brought to land. This is an uncomfortable read, and perhaps for that, I love it the best.

"Jackalope Wives" by Ursula Vernon was just lovely, spun out with the lilting cadences of an American folk tale as we are plunged into a world where some folks are touched by a wilder magic, and what they make of it is entirely up to them. With the resultant unintended consequences.

Nancy Kress was the Nebula Award Winner for "Best Novella" and reading "Yesterday's Kin" in its entirety was a real treat. She examines the bonds of family within this tale of Marianne, a scientist, who believes that her paper on evolutionary genetics is nothing special – until first contact results in the aliens showing interest in her work. We segue also to her son Noah, and how different his experience with the aliens is. I won't give spoilers, but as far as first contact stories usually go, this one hit me with all the feels in the right places.

Overall, I'm seeing more of a tendency towards SF or magical realism in the stories selected. Not so much anything secondary world fantasy, which is a pity. But then I think this is a global trend at present. That being said, I still enjoyed this collection immensely, and would recommend it to anyone who wants to dip into the works that are currently considered to be the top of the SFF genre.

Starship Troopers (1997) #review

Humans in a fascistic, militaristic future do battle with giant alien bugs in a fight for survival.

I admit freely that the first occasion I saw this film, I spent most of my time hiding behind the couch. I was squeamish, and I didn't (at that stage) handle gore all too well. (Also, I'd yet to see the Alien films, so I can be excused, I think.) I shrieked like a little boy with his willy slammed in a car door.

Pretty much all I recalled from the first viewing was a lot of gore, explosions and missing limbs. I didn't recall the satire too much. Granted, fast forward a good decade or so later, I find I was more fascinated with the social commentary than the action. So far as old SF films go, the actual production of Starship Troopers holds up well (and in fact better than the rejigged CGI for Star Wars episodes IV to VI). Perhaps it's because to a degree Starship Troopers still feels a bit old school that helps. Movement is also so fast in some of the action sequences that if there is dodgy graphics, it's over too quickly for it to be out and out annoying.

The characters are, for the most, forgettable and pretty much cardboard cut-out. There's the yawn-worthy prerequisite love triangle, the dick-measuring rivalry between two males, and it's all very much a much of a muchness. Nothing groundbreaking. Johnny Rico wants to go kill himself some bugs 'cos they blew up his home town. He'll break a few hearts along the way and inspire some others. Pretty much stock-standard hero's journey. I could probably check all the boxes if I wasn't so god-damned utterly lazy and ill-inclined to make the effort.

Two words, however: Clancy Brown. I love me some Clancy Brown. Pause a moment to bask in the gorgeous baritone of that man's voice.

Okay. Enough fangrrrling.

What the director Paul Verhoeven says about society is far more interesting than the film's actual narrative. And the way he draws parallels between contemporary American society and Nazi Germany, though a bit heavy handed, are chillingly close to the bone. But that's about it. His motives are so dog-damned obvious it's kinda like getting slapped upside the head with a floppy bratwurst.

And I'm pretty sure your average movie goer won't have the socio-historic context to draw those parallels because they'll be too busy cheering on all the ultra violence. And gore. And missing limbs. And explosions and shit.

Sorry, I'm jaded. Social media has taught me much about the human race (which is probably why I live like a hermit at the bottom of Africa).

This is a solid piece of SF cinema, that's quite self-aware about its message. But it's not a film that's having me flail about in transports of joy. Most importantly, it didn't irritate me, like most films do nowadays. In hindsight I'm glad this film was made during a time when cinema wasn't overly reliant on CGI to make up for the deficits in most scripts nowadays. It means there's slightly more meat to the bone here. And Verhoeven had to pay attention to his work.

Will I watch this film again? Meh. Maybe. Will I tell you to? Meh. Was this eye-achingly awful? Nope. But it wasn't The Event Horizon, and nor was it Alien or Fire Fly, if you catch my drift – all of which I'll most likely revisit when the time comes.

Interstellar (2014) #review

A team of explorers travel through a wormhole in space in an attempt to ensure humanity's survival.

Interstellar was another of those films I swore I’d not go see, possibly mainly because of the hype. But then I discovered that Hans Zimmer did the soundtrack. Then I listened to the soundtrack and fell utterly in love. Zimmer wears his Philip Glass on his sleeve with this one, and if anyone’s seen Koyaanisqatsi they’ll understand the reference.

TBH, I couldn’t help but think about that Jodi Foster film Contact (1997) while I was watching Interstellar. Granted, I don’t remember much about Contact except that it left me feeling rather disappointed and that it tapped into some of the current pet conspiracy theories surrounding extra-terrestrial life.

Interstellar sucker punches the audience with its visual and aural elements. Apparently (and this is what I’ve heard anecdotally) the science behind the time dilation in the film all checks out. I wouldn’t know, since the whole relativity thing kinda does my head in, and I’m simply not motivated enough to get into arguments with people who know more about the subject than I do.

All I’ll say is that the narrative loop (because the story kinda loops into itself) was almost predictable. The actual premise of the story didn’t really blow my hair back, because I mean, really, if they have enough technology to send people through wormholes, then why the hell can’t they fix the blight that’s destroying all the food crops? Surely they’d have biodomes or synthesised food or something? But jawellnofine, don’t pay the author any mind. This is a film, and things get simplified for the sake of cinema.

At the heart of the story, however, there’s the troubled relationship between a father and his daughter. That kinda tugged on me hard and made me a wee bit choked up. Especially near the end. Daaaaamn. But then again, anything involving fathers and daughters and complicated relationships will hurt me because I can’t help but reflect on my own father and how much I miss the relationship I never really had. But this is neither the time and place for me to have a moment of existential wangst.

What Interstellar also succeeds in underscoring is exactly how hostile space is. These kinds of films never fail to instil a sense of claustrophobia in me – I’ve always been fearful of situations where people run out of vital resources like fuel or oxygen. There’s a predictable race against time by the end of the film that will leave most folks digging holes into the soft foam of their seats.

And then with regards to acting, I have to admit Matthew McConaughey is a very strange-looking man who, as an actor, has grown on me over the past few years. I quite enjoyed him in True Detective. I’m looking forward to seeing him The Dark Tower. He brings a certain dry, wry practicality to his roles that tickles me.

Would I watch Interstellar again? Probably not. It’s one of those life’s-too-short-to-revisit films, though I know there are others who’ll disagree. I’m kinda on the fence with this one, but I know I’ll be listening to the OST again and again, at full volume, because Hans Zimmer totally blew me out of the water. Again.

Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens #review

Three decades after the defeat of the Galactic Empire, a new threat arises. The First Order attempts to rule the galaxy and only a ragtag group of heroes can stop them, along with the help of the Resistance.

I’ve purposefully held off talking about Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens (TFA) for a number of reasons, the main one being to allow the hype to die down (and also mainly because I’ve just not had much in the way of time for reviews of any sort until now).

In preparation of this landmark event, myself and a few friends marathoned the preceding Star Wars films so that we’d be ready for TFA. This also resulted in a fair amount of lively discussions as we weighed up the merits and flaws of the various films.

And in that regard, I feel it’s important to view TFA through the lens of the preceding films.

When Episode IV came out all those years ago, George Lucas and his mates didn’t have access to all the neat CGI effects that we take for granted these days. So some of the costumes and creatures are, by today’s standards, a bit corny. (And yes, half the shit Lucas puts in with the rebooted episodes was mostly unnecessary.) Yet it was very much the pulpy, slightly tongue-in-cheek self-aware humour of these early films that makes them stand out for me. They consciously play with the stereotypes and conventions. (Aren't you a little short for a Stormtrooper?)

Though I didn’t see any of the films on the big screen until Episode I, episodes IV, V and VI nevertheless had a huge impact on me at the tender age of 11 when I got to see them on telly. Bad SFX and all. I could suspend disbelief and get carried away by the sheer excitement of what is a classic case of a Chosen One prophecy.

I could segue off on a whole Joseph Campbell Monomyth vibe but I’m not going to because that discussion has been done to death. I use it often enough when running writers’ workshops, as it’s one of the most basic themes in many SFF stories.

I’ve always maintained that the true hero of the entire saga is Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader – the hero who is only able to bring balance to the known universe once he’s dabbled in the Dark Side. The first six films are all about him. Episode VII in that sense is a fresh start; it’s the Great What Happens After.

Except Episodes I to III fall flat for me not only because of the wooden acting and godawful dialogue, but because they lost the X-factor that made IV to VI awesome. That sense of fun is simply lacking, and we're left with a limping morass of doom and gloom. Which could have been fixed (and this series of posts offer some lovely suggestions).

Yet if we’re looking at cyclical storytelling (which is often inherent in all sagas) then the choices JJ Abrams makes for TFA, are perfectly sensible.

Episodes IV to VI have an energy all of their own. It’s typical farmboy-turns-hero. We are invested in ever-escalating badness. We are introduced to the planet-busting Death Star. A bigger bad behind Darth Vader is introduced, and lastly an even bigger, meaner and downright nastier planet-destroying secret weapon is vaporised. Everyone lives happily ever after. Well, kinda.

Episodes I to III bring nothing new to the table other than backstory, along with annoying amphibious locals in possession of prehensile tongues. We have a showdown between primitive tribes somehow beating a technological superior army. (Moon of Endor, anyone?) We have betrayal. We learn why Anakin went bad (because twu lub, y'know). It can be argued that much of the energy for episodes IV to VI is sorely lacking here, as our anti-hero is revealed as a snotty, whiny brat who pouts and stomps his feet when he doesn’t get his way. Obi Wan, so sagely expressed by Alec Guinness in IV to VI, is portrayed by a sorely ineffectual, under-utilised Ewan McGregor. Natalie Portman’s Padme has a single purpose – to be Luke and Leia’s mum and literally die of a broken heart at the end as a reason for the good guy to go bad. Her passing, of course, just seems like a by-the-by GRRM treatment to get rid of inconvenient characters. Basically, these prequels were three feature-length missed opportunities and pointless staring off into distances with teared-up eyes filled with unjustified emotional wangst.

So yeah, I was filled with trepidation when Episode VII came out. Would they find that fresh current that somehow recaptured what made IV to VI great (for the time in which they were produced)?

My verdict: a resounding yes. I am a huge fan of the Star Wars franchise, despite its many flaws. Episode VII delivered all the excitement and more. Was it a bit too self-referential? I mean, I’ve heard some folks say this is basically A New Hope rebooted. I’ll agree, that there were many moments that echoed the earlier instalments, but I’ll counter by saying that the echoing was necessary to pay homage to the existing canon and to provide a platform for fresh dynamics.

There is a touchstone of familiarity to keep the existing fans happy while not dropping us off the deep end. And oh, the delicious nuance. Kylo Ren has an opportunity to redeem himself, which he rejects. Han Solo makes a stand (and we’ve all seen how he’s been running for years) – and pays the price – but his sacrifice provides a vital pinch point in the plot. We have the call to adventure and the denial of the call (hello, Campbell). We have women plausibly in pivotal roles (thank you). We have diversity that doesn’t feel forced (once again, thank you). Rei, Finn and Damon make a delightful triad easy to love, to temper the rather creepy Kylo Ren. I'm really looking forward to see how they'll develop.

At the appropriate moments, I clung to my seat, shrieked and cried. Abrams certainly knew exactly how to play me.

TFA is a film that was clearly created by a fan of the franchise, for the fans. Is it fresh and original? Objectively, I have to say no. Has it revived the franchise? Yes. But does it entertain? Oh yes. Will I watch it again? Make that a HELL YES.

I Heart Robot by Suzanne van Rooyen #review

Title: I Heart Robot
Author: Suzanne van Rooyen
Publisher: Month9Books, LLC, 2014

I’ll be upfront and say that I’ve never really been a fan of stories where one of the viewpoint characters is some sort of artificial intelligence. My rationale has always been that the author faces incredible challenges in order to express a non-human sentience in such a way that it would feel authentic. Yet I’m happy to report that not only has Suzanne van Rooyen done a great job with her androids, but she kept me turning the pages.

I Heart Robot takes place in the distant future in the Scandinavian city of Baldur, during an era that tips its hat strongly at Philip K Dick’s universe, yet without the crushing despair one encounters in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. At its core, I Heart Robot is essentially a sweet romance meets technological thriller.

Tyri is a young, musically gifted woman who is torn between the sensible career path her mother and society expects of her, and her love for making music. Quinn is an android who has fled his abusive owners and is trying to make something of himself – by proving that he can pass for human. Playing as a solo violinist for symphony is just one of his dreams. And yes, we are presented with non-biological lifeforms that make us question where pre-programmed responses stop and individual agency takes over. Can androids even feel genuine emotion?

Though the music causes Tyri and Quinn’s paths to cross, there are greater forces at play as well. Growing social unrest results in tensions between human and robotic lifeforms, and Van Rooyen forces readers to ask: what makes a lifeform real? At the end of the day, only the building blocks differ. Whether a stew of blood, bone and hormone, or metal, cruor and synthetic skin – Van Rooyen’s characters are painted as vital and alive in their own sense of self.

While I Heart Robot may come across as a near-typical young adult SF read (yes, with an expected love triangle), Van Rooyen’s voice is lyrical and her world is populated with vibrant characters and a joyous sense of wonder. Even better, she does not shy away from adding a bit of grit to her narrative, sometimes in the most unexpected places. Bad things happen, and ordinary people are forced to act under extraordinary circumstances, resulting in a read that doesn’t quite go where you’d expect it to. Which is a good thing, if you ask me.