Advent by James Treadwell

Published by Atria on July 3, 2012 

I'm not usually a fan of novels that feature witches and mermaids -- they just aren't my thing -- but I picked up Advent because it purported to have literary merit.  The plot creatively joins two legendary figures -- the prophetess Cassandra of Greek mythology and the 16th century Faust -- and brings them both into the present, threatening the modern age of reason with a return of dark magic and evil spirits.  In the end, despite James Treadwell's graceful writing style, I just didn't care.

Young Gavin Stokes has an imaginary friend named Miss Grey.  To Gavin, Miss Grey is far from imaginary -- she is annoyingly real and has gotten him kicked out of school.  When Gavin's parents send him off to spend some time with his aunt, Gwen Clifton, Gavin encounters Gwen's neighbor, the eccentric Hester Lightfoot, on the train.  Arriving at his destination, Aunt Gwen is nowhere to be found, but Gavin meets a thirteen-year-old named Marina who, like Gavin, sees people who aren't really there.  It turns out that Heather has the same gift.  Marina's friend from across the river, Horace Jia, has seen the missing Gwen but he's not about to tell any adults where she is.  Trouble begins when Marina and Gavin go searching for Gwen and find something that's not quite the Gwen of Gavin's fond memories.

Meanwhile, in 1537, the world's greatest magus, Johannes Faust, acting on a whim, asks his spirit servant to show him the most beautiful woman of all time.  To his surprise, it is another woman, Cassandra, standing behind Helen of Troy, who captures his attention.  Cassandra gives Faust a gift that turns out to be a curse.

The cast having been assembled, Gavin has a series of frightening supernatural encounters before he partially comes of age (he only vaguely understands his linkage to another legendary figure with a similar name) and confronts Faust, who is now in a 20th century guise.  The transition between the two stories takes place in an oddly expository chapter positioned midway through the novel.

The novel's structure is strange.  Faust's story alternates with Gavin's.  That's not a problem, but Faust's story begins at the end and works it way back to the beginning for reasons that are unclear.  I'm not bothered by nonlinear structures if they serve a purpose but I'm not sure that this one does.  After the stories join they often seem muddled.

Treadwell's writing style is exceptional.  His evocative prose brings the night alive, creates a strong sense of place, and is generally a joy to read.  The characters in Advent (as you might expect from people who are touched by the supernatural) are quirky and eccentric and often a bit rattled, characteristics that make them interesting even if they never seem fully developed.

Given the skill with which the story is told, why am I not a fan of Advent?  Ultimately, Advent left me unmoved.  Faust's story is tragic by nature yet I felt no compassion for the unfortunate character.  Gavin and Marina undergo harrowing experiences yet I did not share their terror.  In short, I felt no connection to the story or its characters.  The novel did not absorb me, did not trigger my willingness to suspend disbelief.  The ending struck me as silly.  Perhaps diehard fans of the genre will appreciate this novel more than I did, but readers who don't make a point of seeking out supernatural fiction will probably not want to pick up Advent.

RECOMMENDED WTH RESERVATIONS

Burrows by Reavis Z. Wortham

Published by Poisoned Pen Press on July 3, 2012 

The first Red River Mystery, The Rock Hole, is a novel I strongly recommend to thriller fans. In addition to its spectacularly creepy villain and almost unendurable suspense, the novel introduces richly textured, immensely likable characters. While it is mildly disappointing but not surprising that the second Red River Mystery doesn't warrant the same high praise, Burrows tells an exhilarating story, creates a strong sense of time (1964) and place (the Oklahoma-Texas border), and further develops the characters who were central to the first novel.

Ned Parker has retired as Constable (a decision he regrets) but local folk are used to calling him when there's trouble. A headless body in the river qualifies as trouble. Before Ned and the new Constable, Cody Parker, can get a handle on the murder, more bodies (some headless) turn up, leading officers to investigate booby-trapped tunnels that lead through the mountains of trash that have piled up in the Cotton Exchange (a rather extreme case of hoarding). Since the building is on the wrong side of the color barrier, the town's all-white power structure has studiously ignored the problem. The job of ferreting out the killer from the rubbish falls to Cody, based on his experience as a tunnel rat in Vietnam, with an able assist from John, the black sheriff's deputy whose job is to enforce the law in the black community.

Cody plays a much larger role in Burrows than he did in The Rock Hole. Ned plays a significant role, but the real stars continue to be Ned's grandson Top and Top's foul-mouthed cousin, a girl named Pepper. Top has some trouble of his own -- his cussing and smoking and hooky playing do not sit well with Ned -- but (thanks to Pepper's "encouragement") Top always finds himself near the dangerous situations that Ned and Cody and John encounter. When he isn't getting in the way, Top contributes to the effort to catch the killer.

Dialog is authentic, the pace is lively, and the story entertains. Burrows is a less effective mystery than The Rock Hole (the killer's identity is never a mystery in Burrows, although his true nature comes as a bizarre surprise), and while Reavis Wortham tries to duplicate the horrific elements that made The Rock Hole so chilling, he doesn't quite pull it off. The social issues that worked so well in The Rock Hole are less prominent in Burrows. Still, Burrows is a fun reading experience. The story generates suspense but the characters give the novel its charm. While I would recommend reading The Rock Hole before Burrows to gain a deeper appreciation of the characters (and because The Rock Hole is a better book), I can recommend Burrows to fans of The Rock Hole -- with the caveat that readers shouldn't expect the same level of intensity.

RECOMMENDED

In the Country of Last Things by Paul Auster

First published in 1987 

I don't know whether In the Country of Last Things is post-apocalyptic in the strict sense of the word. It describes no apocalyptic event, and what people recall of the past is unreliable, the stuff of legend. The unnamed (presumably American) city that is the novel's focus is in a state of decay, seemingly the result of entropy rather than a single disaster-inducing cause. As the narrator describes it, "the city seems to be consuming itself." Most inhabitants are homeless, scrounging for food or scraps of formerly useful objects that can be resold. Many are simply waiting to die, often actively pursuing death (sometimes in bizarre ways), a desire that has given birth to creative and lucrative new businesses. Absurd religions flourish. Armed invaders seize buildings, evicting tenants; ownership of realty is a concept that belongs to a forgotten past. Religious groups -- all of them -- are oppressed. Scholarship is all but dead. The social compact is in ruins and the corrupt government is useless except as a disposer of dead bodies.

In the Country of Last Things is written as a letter from Anna Blume, a young woman who has traveled overseas to visit the city in search of her brother, a journalist who has not contacted his editor in nine months. Writing the letter, Anna feels she is "screaming into a vast and terrible blackness." Through all her hardships and struggles, her encounters with multiple sinners and occasional saints, Anna adapts and endures. Tragedy follows tragedy, interspersed with random acts of kindness. Ultimately, her life is reduced to a desire "to live one more day."

Paul Auster's novel explores (in Anna's words) "the most interesting question of all: to see what happens when there is nothing, and whether or not we will survive that too." The novel is bleak but the darkness is occasionally illuminated by pockets of hope -- there are a few people who offer unselfish assistance, who tend to the suffering -- suggesting, perhaps, that even when there is nothing, when all the safety nets have dissolved, a willingness to help strangers at the expense of one's own health and safety remains a fundamental component of human nature, at least for some. The unanswered question is whether those people will triumph, or whether they will be overcome by those who hoard resources, who control a dysfunctional government, who care only about their own lives.

The novel's ending is inconclusive. We do not know what will become of Anna, but that's the nature of life. None of us know our fate. In the Country of Last Things tells us that we have the power to make choices, and that even small and seemingly inconsequential decisions make it possible to survive, at least in spirit, when it seems that there is nothing left. An optimistic reader will think it likely that Anna will never lose her humanity despite the obstacles that impede her continuing journey.

As always, Auster's prose is lucid, his characters are well-defined, his imagery is scintillating, and his story merits serious thought and discussion. This may not be Auster's best work -- it is certainly a departure from the kinds of novels he wrote before and after this one -- but it is a powerful and compelling story told by one of the nation's most accomplished writers.

RECOMMENDED

Brides of Blood by Joseph Koenig

First published in 1993; digital edition published by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Media on June 19, 2012 

A member of SAVAK, Iran's secret police, is acquitted of the rape and murder of two women he had detained for questioning. Darius Bakhtiar, the prosecutor who lost the rigged trial, takes justice into his own hands. Although the intercession of a politically connected uncle prevents Darius from being executed, the act of vigilante justice will eventually come back to haunt him.

Ten years later, when a sexually mutilated prostitute is murdered, the religious authorities in Tehran do not believe the killing warrants investigation. Darius decides to defy the religious authorities and investigate anyway. The murder of a second woman seems to be related to the first. Darius cares about dead women in a society that doesn't value women at all -- or at least that is the conceit that drives the tale. Uncovering the reason for their deaths leads Darius down a dangerous path involving heroin and mycotoxins and the Brides of Blood, female warriors for radical Islam.

Darius isn't getting along well with his wife, giving Joseph Koenig a chance to describe the quaint divorce customs practiced by devout Muslims. Yet Darius (unlike his wife) is hardly devout: he drinks alcohol, prays only when necessary to keep up appearances, and embraces certain values he developed as a student in the United States (where he apparently learned his law enforcement style by watching Dirty Harry movies).

All of this makes for a moderately interesting story that is peppered with vivid images of torture and bleak descriptions of Iranian society. It is also a story written with a heavy hand. There is little doubt that life for Iranian women was brutal during the mid-1990s, particularly women who were considered "westernized." Yet Brides of Blood often reads more like a political polemic than a thriller. If the point of Brides of Blood is to deliver the message that fundamentalist Islam is evil, it does so without subtlety. Every female character is either a religious fanatic (like Darius' wife) or the miserable victim of religious fanatics.

Although most of Brides of Blood takes place in Tehran, it has little sense of place. We're given street and neighborhood names but scant description, nothing that brings the city alive. Koenig pays occasional lip-service to Iran's rich heritage and culture but fails to bring the country alive.  The novel is filled with violence and torture, but it all seems too familiar. Toward the end the plot devolves into an unconvincing love story. Even less convincing are the characters who reveal their motives in long conversations during gun battles.

Brides of Blood tells a quick-moving, action-filled story. Had Koenig's depiction of Iranian society been more nuanced and had his characters been less wooden, I would have been more enthused. As it stands, my recommendation is half-hearted.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS

Caliban's War by James S.A. Corey

Published by Orbit on June 26, 2012 

Sometimes the second book in a series is a let-down, particularly when it follows a strong initial entry. The good news is that Caliban's War advances the story that Leviathan Wakes began, introduces appealing new characters, adds depth to a familiar character, and reconfirms the authors' ability to tell an energetic, engrossing tale.

Ganymede has been in crisis since Marines from Earth and Mars started shooting at each other. But how did the hostility begin? Only Gunnery Sergeant Bobbie Draper knows the truth: they weren't shooting at each other, but at the monster that was killing them. Since the "monster" could be the protomolecule last seen on Venus in Leviathan Wakes, the Outer Planets Alliance sends James Holden and the crew of the Rocinante to investigate.

Meanwhile, Prax Meng is upset because his daughter Mei was apparently kidnapped during the fighting. Mei has a genetic disorder that puts her at risk of death if she doesn't receive regular treatment. Is there a connection between the snatch and the coincidental timing of the monster's attack? It's up to Holden and his crew to find out.

A third storyline involves Chrisjen Avasarala, an elderly, foul-mouthed UN official whose job is to keep the peace between Earth and Mars, a none-too-easy task. Her story eventually merges with Draper's and becomes one of political intrigue.

I wouldn't recommend reading Caliban's War without first reading Leviathan Wakes. Caliban's War assumes a familiarity with the events that took place in the first novel. While Caliban's War doesn't have quite the same poignant human drama as Leviathan Wakes -- largely due to the absence of Miller, a memorable character who was central to the story in the first novel -- it does replicate the fun factor: engaging characters, low-key humor, and exciting action. Yet there is enough human drama, enough genuine emotion, in Caliban's War to fuel the reader's compulsion to move on to the next chapter ... and the next, and the next.

Many of the characters draw upon familiar stereotypes but that, at least, gives them the benefit of well-defined personalities. In any event, there is a complexity to Holden that rises above the stereotypical. Holden confronts a range of internal conflicts and fears in Caliban's War while proving to himself that he's capable of growth. Holden is an idealist who needs to learn something about pragmatism, but he's also a fundamentally peaceful guy who is morphing into something else after all the horror he's experienced.

Holden is fond of taking his message directly to the people via a futuristic version of the internet. The theme of using direct communication to bypass the government and take control of destiny plays a large part in Caliban's War, just as it did in Leviathan Wakes. That theme is expanded with the addition of Avasarala, who proves to be an adept manipulator of the media.

Caliban's War isn't for science fiction fans who like their novels to reflect world-building or carefully considered technological advances or imagined applications of theoretical physics. Caliban's War is quite the opposite. The writing team known as James S.A. Corey cares more about story-building and character-building than world-building. The result is an absorbing story about memorable characters that some fans will regard as too light-on-science to be taken seriously. Yet not all novels need to be taken seriously; some work on a more elemental, less intellectual level. I don't need to be convinced that "this could really happen" to appreciate the entertainment value of a science fiction novel, but others do, and this might be the right novel for them.

RECOMMENDED