The Tzer Island book blog features book reviews written by TChris, the blog's founder.  I hope the blog will help readers discover good books and avoid bad books.  I am a reader, not a book publicist.  This blog does not exist to promote particular books, authors, or publishers.  I therefore do not participate in "virtual book tours" or conduct author interviews.  You will find no contests or giveaways here.

The blog's nonexclusive focus is on literary/mainstream fiction, thriller/crime/spy novels, and science fiction.  While the reviews cover books old and new, in and out of print, the blog does try to direct attention to books that have been recently published.  Reviews of new (or newly reprinted) books generally appear every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Reviews of older books appear on occasional weekends.  Readers are invited and encouraged to comment.  See About Tzer Island for more information about this blog, its categorization of reviews, and its rating system.

Monday
Apr072014

The Roving Party by Rohan Wilson

First published in Australia in 2011; published by Soho Press on February 25, 2014

Manalargena, the chief of an Aboriginal clan in Tasmania, knowing his clan must fight to survive, recruits Black Bill to join them. Bill declines on the ground that he follows the direction of a white man, John Batman. Bill fails to mention that Batman, intending to collect on a contract from the governor, has already engaged him to hunt Manalargena and his clan, earning a bounty for each one killed or captured. Yet Manalargena, a witch who "has a meanness even God won't forgive," is believed to be (and believes himself to be) protected by a demon. He is not an easy man to kill.

Bill joins the roving party, nine men (including four convicts and two free blacks) following John Batman's lead. They are hard, rough men, cruel men who have been treated cruelly. They fight each other as often as they fight the tribesman they hunt. They regard the Aborigines as uncivilized savages but they are hardly exemplars of civil behavior. Bill, the toughest of them, stands above the fray, but as "a black man raised white" he finds little acceptance among the other members of the roving party. Bill is earning a share of the bounty to hunt his own people, a decision that even Batman's white employees cannot respect. Katherine, Bill's pregnant wife, does not approve of his decision to follow Batman, despite the food his employment puts on the table.

The Roving Party is a fast moving story of violence, but much of the dramatic tension comes from Bill's internal conflict, the doubt that gnaws at him despite his best efforts to ignore his conscience. Although raised and educated by a white family, Bill knows himself to be rooted in those he has been assigned to capture and kill. After the hunt ends, its impact on Bill -- misfortune that he attributes to Manalargena's witchcraft -- continues to drive the story to its powerful conclusion. This is, in a sense, an unconventional story of redemption. It is also a story of a man's struggle to find himself.

The men in the roving party are not academically inclined, but they consider weighty philosophical issues as they hunt their fellow man. Why are the clansmen more deserving of death than the hunters? How do men of any race learn to suffer life with dignity? Do wretched men who commit heinous crimes deserve to have their lives ended by a rope around the neck, their sentences pronounced by judges who "never get their hands dirty with men's blood"? Toward the novel's end, Bill ponders the relationship between strength and sorrow and the uncertain nature of justice.

Rohan Wilson paints the Tasmanian landscape in vivid brushstrokes. From tribesmen to slave traders to prisoners, Wilson's minor characters -- often described with just a few choice words -- are infused with authenticity. There are hints of Hemingway in the stark eloquence of Wilson's prose and in the masculinity that defines the story, yet the novel's strongest characters are women. The Roving Party tells a brutal story but it is a brutality tempered with tenderness and wisdom. It deserves the acclaim it has earned since its 2011 publication in Australia.

RECOMMENDED

Friday
Apr042014

Chance by Kem Nunn

Published by Scribner on February 18, 2014

Eldon Chance is a forensic neuropsychiatrist who makes his living serving as an expert witness in civil or criminal cases involving brain injuries. Despite a healthy income he is bleeding money, in part because his wife is divorcing him, in part because he owes a huge debt in unpaid taxes. Chance is forced to sell his ridiculously expensive antique desk but gets more money than the desk is worth by having restoration work completed in a manner akin to art forgery, which sets up a relationship with the restoration forger, a big guy named D who is there to help when you need a big guy to solve your problems. Or, more likely, to make your problem worse.

Chance is pretentious and self-impressed. It's easy to understand why Chance's wife left him. His ethical breaches during the novel range from sleeping with a patient (who maybe isn't technically a patient, but close enough) to chatting with everyone he meets about the various patients he's treated or evaluated. He makes poor judgments throughout the novel (listening to D is the biggest one) and seems incapable of learning from his mistakes, which makes it difficult to get behind him as a character. He sort of deserves all the misfortune that comes his way. For much of the novel I wondered why Kem Nunn had chosen to write about such an unlikable character, but it all makes sense by the end.

Chance becomes obsessed with Jaclyn Blackstone, or at least with one of her multiple personalities. Despite her paranoia, Chance comes to believe that Jaclyn is being abused by her husband, who happens to be a cop. When the cop becomes aware of Chance's interest in his wife, bad things start happening to Chance and his family. Chance turns to D, a well-rounded criminal who is more literate than most, for help. The guts of the novel concern Chance's investigation of Jaclyn's past and her relationship to her husband, as well as the threats that someone has made to expose Chance's own past and to set him up for crimes he has not committed. The plot is interesting, as you would expect of a story that gives prominent attention to Tijuana hookers, San Francisco massage parlors, random acts of violence, and crazy people. After a slow start, the story builds intrigue as it moves toward its conclusion.

There are times when Nunn's prose is cold, detached, and pedantic. There is a formality to the style (not always present but often enough) that sometimes gives the novel a nineteenth century feel. That put me off for about half the novel. Nunn strives for an elegant prose style and often achieves it, but at other times his writing comes across as stuffy. I might understand that if the novel had been written in the first person (as are some of Chance's reports, quoted liberally at various times in the novel) because Chance is stuffy, but it seems an odd stylistic choice for a third-person voice. In any event, after the story started to grab me, I either became accustomed to the prose style or ignored it in favor of appreciating an engaging story. I particularly like the delightfully ambiguous and twisted ending and the opportunity it gives Chance to come to terms with his life. While it took me awhile to appreciate this novel, I was a fan by the time I reached the conclusion.

RECOMMENDED

Wednesday
Apr022014

Saucer: Savage Planet by Stephen Coonts

Published by St. Martin's Griffin on April 1, 2014

Stephen Coonts wrote two novels in the Saucer series, the last one about ten years ago, with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Flying saucers shaped like saucers are found on Earth, weaponized with "anti-matter beams." As everyone knows, the Air Force kept one of the saucers hidden in Area 51. That one was stolen by a Frenchman, only to be shot down over the Atlantic in the last novel by a second saucer that our hero, Rip Cantrell, dug out of the Saharan sands. The current novel begins a few months after the last one ends. Don't read it if you are looking for a serious work of science fiction. As the title implies, Saucer: Savage Planet is pulp fiction with a wink ... although it does advance a clever idea. While that payoff is small, the novel is a quick and undemanding read, the kind of book you might pick up if you are in the mood for a mindless diversion.

Savage Planet opens with the CEO of a pharmaceutical company salvaging the saucer that crashed in the last novel because he believes the ship's computers contain a formula for an anti-aging drug that will make him billions of dollars. The CEO has been sold on that premise by Adam Solo, who needs the CEO to salvage the saucer so that Solo can steal it. In the meantime, the media get wind of the anti-aging drug and the ensuing news stories convince the president that his party will control the government forever if only he can make the drug available to the public.

The story features an actual alien, who seems pretty much human apart from his telepathic abilities. The title Savage Planet refers to Earth as the alien sees it. Having survived a good bit of human history (including a stint with the Vikings), he has good reason to see it that way.

Savage Planet is more silly than funny, making this a novel I might recommend to younger readers. Its targets (primarily politicians, media "babes," and greedy capitalists) are familiar and easy to lampoon. A couple of things about the novel made me smile, including the president's continuing reliance on the advice he gets from a Chief Petty Officer (who, not being a politician, is the only person in Washington who bases advice on common sense), but none of the humor produced a belly laugh. The story has an oft-repeated moral -- life on this savage planet "is a grand adventure" and should be lived to its fullest -- but this isn't a philosophical novel and anyway, most of us don't have a chance to ride around in flying saucers. Ultimately, Savage Planet is a straightforward, moderately entertaining adventure story with a hokey ending that is occasionally amusing. When I was twelve, I would have loved it.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

Monday
Mar312014

The Ophelia Prophecy by Sharon Lynn Fisher

Published by Tor Books on April 1, 2014

The Ophelia Prophecy is more akin to a trashy romance novel than a serious work of science fiction. It isn't what I expected from a reliable publisher like Tor. The novel might appeal to fans of romance who are willing to overlook its shortcomings. It didn't work for me.

Asha St. John, an Archivist who studies information that was collected by a crazy survivalist named Ophelia before the Bio Holocaust, lives in Sanctuary near Moab, Utah. One day she finds herself at the reservoir -- with no memory of how she arrived there --- where she meets Augustus Paxton (Pax), a member of a genetically engineered race called the Manti that conquered humanity. Pax and his sister Iris are the product of a mixture of human and insect DNA. Pax grabs Asha and makes off with her in a Scarab. A Scarab is a living mixture of plant and insect DNA and Artificial Intelligence that flies. Scarabs routinely patrol the skies to contain settlements where the human survivors of the Bio Holocaust dwell. The settlements are in inhospitable places like Moab and a bog in Ireland. A human resident of the bog named Beck is leading a resistance movement. Why don't the Manti just kill the few remaining humans and be done with them? Because then there would be no story. The residents of Sanctuary, being none too bright, believe the bugs are afraid of rock formations (!) but the real reason remains a mystery for the first third the novel.

The rest of the novel involves Pax's conflict with his father (who happen to be the transgenics' ruler) and Asha's conflict with her mother (who isn't very nice) and Asha's attempt to reunite with her father (who is encouraging a quarrelsome splinter group of transgenics). The novel's primary focus, however, centers on Asha's feelings for Pax, who for much of the novel is holding her captive and resisting his instinctive urge to ravage her (an instinct that perhaps explains why mosquitoes want to be near us). Eventually the plot devolves into "Can a human girl find true love with a bug-like transgenic?" Asha's stomach flutters (and not because she wants to vomit) whenever Pax says "we" or "us." Sometimes her heart quivers or "the machinery of her brain" locks up when she sees him. This sounds like a medical condition, but Asha is apparently so desperate that she's falling in love with a bug-boy who is constantly battling his urge to rape her. I suppose there's a severe shortage of eligible bachelors in Sanctuary, what with humanity being almost wiped out by transgenics, but still.

The Ophelia Prophecy is not a novel of praiseworthy prose, so any merit it has must be found in the story and its characters. Unfortunately, there is little worth finding unless you are a fan of dull, predictable romance novels. Long-winded arguments between characters are too often relied upon to advance the plot. A scene that requires Aisha to choose between Pax and her father is resolved too conveniently. The concept of trangenics raises profound ethical questions and while The Ophelia Prophecy purports to explore them, it does so in simplistic terms. For the most part, philosophy is secondary to a contrived plot that pits "science as religion" against "anti-science as religion." The secret of Sanctuary's survival is hard to swallow, but that can be said about much of this novel, including the reason for Asha's memory loss. The Bio Holocaust isn't carefully explained. There was, of course, a plague; fortunately it produced no zombies. We're told that "garage labs" created transgenics like giant wasps that threaten not only humans but other transgenics but how any of that happened is left for the reader to imagine.

The Ophelia Prophecy is probably meant to be a metaphorical novel in which people separated by their differences reach out to each other, bridging the gap because they understand their fundamental similarities (including sexual desire). I think the story is also supposed to be a metaphor for oppression, particularly of native peoples (with, for instance, "trail of terror" substituted for "trail of tears"), and the rebel movements that oppression breeds. I give Sharon Lynn Fisher credit for having big ideas but they aren't well developed. Had more attention been given to building the story's background and less to describing Asha's fluttering stomach and quivering heart, this could have been a better novel. Even then, I would have difficulty accepting Asha's love for Pax, which seems to be based on nothing more than "he wants me."

NOT RECOMMENDED

Friday
Mar282014

The Bear by Claire Cameron

Published by Little, Brown and Company on February 11, 2014

The Bear was inspired by an actual event that occurred on Bates Island in Algonquin Park, Ontario. A bear attacked and killed two adult campers. In Claire Cameron's version of the story, the adults are camping with two children. Told from the point of view of one of the two kids, Anna Whyte, The Bear is a poignant and startling novel.

Writing from a child's perspective is no easy task. Childlike prose will rarely hold an adult reader's interest while eloquent prose seems artificial when it comes from a child. The trick, deftly executed here, is to show the reader an adult world from a child's eyes, assembling the simple language that a child would use in ungrammatically interesting sentences that reflect the imagination and confusion of a child's existence. In Anna's mind, a cooler named Coleman is her friend, an octopus helps her battle armies of fish, a bear is a big black dog, and how her father's tennis shoe ended up on a big chunk of meat is a puzzle.

The first section of The Bear is written with horrifying realism, making a compelling story all the more intense. The beauty of the story is that an adult reader, who understands what is happening, is more disturbed than Anna, who is too young to appreciate the gruesome and terrifying reality that surrounds her. Immaturity makes children vulnerable but it also protects them emotionally. Anna's immaturity, in turn, protects the reader from gut-wrenching descriptions of loss and pain.

The problem with opening a novel with such intensity is that once the reader's fear dissipates, the rest of the novel feels anticlimactic. There is, in fact, a lull in the middle section of The Bear. While the prose continues to capture a child's perspective, it is a less interesting account of two lost kids.

The novel's final section is stronger. It offers additional insight into a child's world, as a therapist who has no understanding of how Anna is processing reality is determined to help her work through feelings she doesn't have, perhaps doing more harm than good. The sadness inherent in the story as a whole is offset by the humor in Anna's relationship with her brother Stick and by the simple joy Anna experiences when hugging her teddy bear or playing with a neighbor's dog. While it is clear that, as Anna gets older and begins to understand her memories in a different way, her experience on the island will always trouble her, it is also clear that children are resilient and adaptive. At the same time, the epilog (set 20 years later) is both sweet and a little heartbreaking. The Bear isn't always an easy novel to read but it is a novel worth reading.

RECOMMENDED