Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor

Who Fears Death is the story of a young woman named Onyesonwu.  It takes place in a future, post-apocalyptic Sudan. Magic is real, and  coexists with legacy technology.

Onyesonwu is a child of interracial rape, an Ewu.  As a result of this heritage, her skin is the color of sand and she  immediately stands out in her culture. Her name translates as "who  fears death?"

The story is a rather character-driven  journey. The stakes are incredibly personal. Onyesonwu's mother's people  are the Okeke. The Nuru, her father's people, are invaders who have  subjugated many Okeke villages.

Okorafor pointed to this article on the Darfur crisis as inspiration. Onyesonwu's father, Daib, is a particularly nasty character. He acts as the book's main villain. For much of the story, she tries to reject that he is her father.

A large part of the story deals  with confronting her place in society and what it means to be Ewu. As she grows older, Onyesonwu  sees herself as a burden on her mother and stepfather. It's a struggle  that she pushes against throughout the entire story.

She  tries to follow her village's customs, even those her parents  disapprove of.  As an attempt to  increase her social standing within their community, . This creates a  temporary rift between her and her parents. But it provides a strong  bond with the others undergoing the ritual -- an important element to the story.

I liked this book quite a bit. I'm particularly biased towards first-person novels. In that regard, Who Fears Death  was already staged to meet my taste. Much of the book is in the first  person, from Onyesonwu's perspective. I loved getting into Onyesonwu's  views of the world. It was immediate, tense, and immersive.

It  is revealed that Onyesonwu is telling the story to a transcriber. so it becomes questionable how accurate the narration is. Which is great, because I like unreliable narrators, too. It  also changed the genre of the story from memoir to possible gospel.

The  ending left me feeling like Onyesonwu left an indelible change on her  world. She could be a possible messiah figure. It ended with enough ambiguity to  let the readers draw their own conclusion. But I would love to see how  Onyesonwu affected the two cultures presented in the future.

This  was Nnedi Okorafor's first novel for adults. She had written several  young adult novels before this one. She does a great job with the tone  of the book. I loved how it sucked me in with the beauty of the prose.  The chapter length is very well done. They read almost as well crystallized short stories.

While  this book was amazing, I wouldn't recommend it to everyone. The content  could definitely make some squeamish. I felt uncomfortable during certain portions. Particularly because I was reading out in public.

I realize that caveat is a large one for many people. But it is a good story that shines a light on feeling like an uncomfortable  in society.  Now more than ever, that's an important factor to think  about. If you are all right with the uncomfortable aspects  of the story, I highly recommend Who Fears Death.

Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner

Swordspoint, published in 1986, bills itself as a "melodrama of manners." According to a little internet research, it's a foremost work in the mannerpunk subgenre. Mannerpunk hails back to the regency era, and focuses on social niceties in a fantasy world.

Think The Importance of Being Earnest, but there could be dragons and wizards.

Swordspoint is set in the fictional town of Riverside. The city used to be a monarchy, but now a council of nobles preside. The river bisects the town. The upper crust is on one side, the commoners on the other.

A major factor in the politics of the city is the duelists. Mercenary fencers take commissions from nobility. Sometimes, these are for general non-lethal performances. Weddings, parties, the like. Other jobs are law sanctioned contracted hits. The nobility use the duelists to fight a highly codified proxy war among themselves.

I enjoyed the relationship at the center of the story. Richard is a duelist in high demand, and Alec is a scholar from a noble past. They're are interesting characters with a lot of life. You can tell that Ellen Kushner worked hard to develop their romance in a real, relatable way.

The book's title comes from the following epigram: "Every man lives at swordspoint." This means that every one has something in their life that makes them susceptible. It's a great foreshadowing. One particularly odious nobleman tries to use Alec as leverage over Richard. The swordsman complies, and then wreaks a particularly nasty revenge.

While there was a great deal to enjoy in the story, I did find it a rather mixed bag.

Pacing was a bit of an issue. I had a hard time paying attention to the parties and the social fetes of the upper class. While they expanded the world of Riverside, it wasn't easy to like any of the members of nobility. They were rather flat -- as if they were scenery pieces rather than real people. I would have enjoyed it more if there weren't such a wide array of parties and fetes. Less superfluous exploration of the higher class would have tightened up the story.

I listened to this as an audio book. The author narrated it, with help from various actors. There were also sound effects and musical clips. It won an Audie Award in 2013, so I had high hopes for the quality of the production.

Unfortunately, I found it fell short. The sound effects and music were more-or-less random in execution. Only some of the characters had different voice actors. Also, some of the lines awkwardly shift from the narrator to the actors mid-break.

I would have enjoyed the book more without the "enhancements." If they created a full audio-drama, that'd be wonderful. It's one of my favorite mediums. But this amalgam of book and audio drama didn't work. It was an exercise in exasperation.

Ellen Kushner did a fine job narrating the story. If the production had maintained that, it would have been a far more entertaining work. The extra fluff only made it harder to listen to.

Final word, Swordspoint is a very serviceable work that could have been even better.

Temper by Nicky Drayden

Temper is about twin brothers, Auben and Kasim Mtuze. Set in a fictional analogue of southern Africa, they live in a society that is made up of primarily twins. As a coming-of-age ceremony, these twins are assessed and assigned a mixture of the seven vices.

Normally, it's common for the twins to split along a three to four ratio. Sometimes, it can be five to two. The Mtuzes are rare in that Auben has six and Kasim only has one.

Kasim has embraced his bad-boy lifestyle. He flirts with the girls. Classes are meant to be missed, right? Also, he isn't afraid to supplement his lifestyle with a little bit of theft.

But, as the year turns, Auben starts to hear voices. They're pushing him to go beyond petty  fun-seeking and move into more serious misdeeds. Also, he's starting to crave the taste of blood.

Overall, I really liked Temper quite a bit! This was Nicky Drayden's second effort, and I'm going to add her to my category of "to-read-upon-release."

First, I loved that the story was a standalone. There's nothing wrong with a series. But, sometimes, looking at the book store's shelves, I think that the stand alone speculative fiction novel is a lost art. It's nice to find a story that fits into less than four hundred pages.

I also liked the social structure of the world. Peoples' social status depended on how many vices they had. Since Auben had six, he wasn't looking at the rosiest of futures. Kasim was looking at the reverse. He expects to climb to a respectable position on the social ladder. Auben, though, can expect to live in a ghetto called a comfy.

Also, I liked the idea of a society of twins. There's a very specific world building reason that this happens that I won't get into here. But, in addition to the male/female paradigm, the twin effect has added the kigen gender, which was an interesting thing to think about.

The world of the story is going through an intense debate about religion and secularism. The two sides have very strongly drawn boundaries. Also, mechanical devices are verboten, due to cultural exploitation from machine-using conquerors.

The Mtuze's mother is strongly secularist, and she's raised her boys to be such as well. When they choose to explore religion as a means of understanding what's happening, she reacts strongly.

I love the sense of humor in the story. Auben revels in the funny. His uncle-in-law, Pabio, illustrates not-safe-for-work "childrens" books, such as an octopus with mouth-herpes. There are other examples, too, but some of them give away a bit too much of the story.

I was a little less thrilled with the use of language in the book. It's written in the first-person, present tense. No issues with the first-person voice -- I love it in general. It's just a touch jarring to read at first. Whenever I came back to the book, it took a few minutes to get back into the swing of the text.

Also, the chapters were really long. It was sometimes hard to find a good stopping point, particularly when I started dozing off in bed. If the chapter subsections had been a bit more clearly labeled, it would have been easier going.

Overall, though, those are some minor nitpicks. I highly recommend this for people interested in reading fantasy set in Africa (something sorely lacking at the moment), and also people interested in drama between family members.

The Healer's War by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough

I thought the book did a good job of humanizing war. While working in the hospital, Kitty divides her time before treating American soldiers and Vietnamese civilians. Scarborough worked hard to make the Vietnamese characters seem real, well-rounded people.

Later, during the jungle portion of the story, Scarborough shows how the ordinary people are trapped. In order to just survive, they have to keep both sides of the conflict happy. It's not an easy job, and it takes a huge toll.

I liked the magic The magical talisman doesn't help Kitty "win;" she doesn't gain some kind of power that allows her to overcome her challenges. Rather, it helps her see what lies underneath the surface of those around her.

The first-person narrative of the book is vital -- if it were told in third person, the story would not have been quite as effective. Also, as a woman, Kitty didn't have to go to Vietnam. She could have found plenty of work in an American hospital. But she took a commission voluntarily because she wanted to help. I think the book would have had a much less vibrant perspective if it were through the lens of a drafted serviceman or even a male nurse.

I think this is an important book, particularly because it shows the personal effect of battle on people. It thinks about who is involved -- the "good guys," the "bad guys," and the people just caught in the middle. It also ends well, showing Kitty struggling with PTSD and finding a way out.

It's especially important because the genre tends to glorify war to a certain extent. I wish there were more stories like this. I'd recommend this for people who are looking for a different kind of look at the violence people inflict.

The Fisher of Bones by Sarah Gailey

NOTE: You can read Fisher of Bones for free on Fireside Magazine.

This is a story I can't stop thinking about it. Fisher of Bones tells the story of a small group of people who are looking for their Promised Land. 

The viewpoint character is their Prophetess, recently appointed by the previous Prophet (her father) right before he dies. She has to keep the fractious group united until they reach the Promised Land, and the job proves difficult.

I loved this story for several reasons. The first was the format. It's a novelette written as a series of short vignettes that are packed with character detail and emotional tension. They draw you through each chapter all the way to the ending. Because it's so short, the world building is dense. There are very few superfluous words.

A lot of other reviews I've seen has asked for more details. But I don't think more is necessary. After all, the Gods are not the driving force of the story. The act of living in the tension of community is the true focus. The Gods are, in a horrid sense, a Macguffin.

Faith in the Gods and their Promised Land drives and cements the community. The tribe wants to believe, but they have doubts. Since the Prophetess is the voice of the Gods, she receives the brunt of the angst her people are feeling. 

As is often in life, faith in this story leads to a place that's dark and scary and mysterious. If the Gods were revealed in more detail, the mystery would be destroyed.

Also, I loved that the Prophetess struggled so much with faith. Often, religious leaders have to put on a brave front for the rest of their group. Many of them have the most doubt, though. I thought this was a great aspect to the Prophetess, and loved seeing how it affected her relationships with her closest family and friends.

All-in-all, a remarkable piece of fiction that speaks a truth that is both real and memorable.

The Consuming Fire by John Scalzi

You can check out my review of the first book, The Collapsing Empire, here.

The story picks up pretty much where The Collapsing Empire leaves off. The three viewpoint characters, Cardenia, Marce, and Kiva return in this new volume.

Cardenia is becoming more comfortable in her role of Emperox and spiritual figurehead. She has decided to move forward with preparing the Interdependency for the Flow's collapse. There is doubt against her from her government, from the Wu clan, and from the church she leads.

Marce has found some new changes in the Flow's collapse. He teams up with another scientist who had been studying the Flow for House Nohamapetan. They determine there could be new, temporary Flow shoals that can pop up. One of these leads to a previously lost member of the interdependency. They convince Cardenia to let them launch an expedition.

Kiva Lagos has taken to the task of dealing with the Nohamapetan's dealings around Hub. Her efforts have turned up some rather elaborate skimming schemes. The Nohamapetan house is less than thrilled with her management of their functions. She also finds love!

There's a lot to enjoy with The Consuming Fire. Just like it's predecessor, it's an easy read that's fun to get into. Scalzi's story-telling is breezy and enjoyable. He keeps the chapters short enough to keep pulling the reader through the story. I found myself toting the book around to different appointments so I could read it in my free time. I loved the exploration aspect in this story. The idea that there's a lot more beyond the Interdependency is both exciting and intriguing.

A big theme of the story is the use of religion as a tool by the government. It definitely follows what Scalzi established previously. The use of religion as a political tool is historically undeniable. From the deification of the pharaohs to the creation of the Holy Roman Empire, history has shown time and again that religion and power go hand-in-hand.

But the way religion is handled is hard to swallow.

Personally, I think religion when properly handled can be a positive force in the world. It can give people a sense of belonging. It can also provide a strong mythology for people to use as a cornerstone for their identity. The brain is a story-making machine, and faith can provide a context for the personal story.

Let me point out: not everyone feels religious faith is necessary, and that's perfectly fine. I think Scalzi was trying to make points about the use of religion by government, not about faith as a whole.

But he doesn't present it in a concrete, understandable way. I don't know the tenants of the Interdependancy's religion after reading this book. I know it's a bit sanitary in practice; i.e., it doesn't normally trend towards the mystical. It promotes being a decent person. But I don't know how the faith actually provides believers with a higher understanding of their place in the cosmos.

The way Cardenia uses the church in her official capacity is an interesting move. She knows why the church was created, and seems to have some qualms about the morality of her role in it. But she doesn't hesitate to use it to prepare people for the imminent disaster. I liked that development; but I wish we could have seen some more personal wrestling with this idea. She makes up her mind to use a religious approach between books, and so we're only really seeing the aftermath.

I also had issues with the way the science was glossed over in the story. In several points, Marce was asked about particular details in the science. And he always said to the layperson that they wouldn't understand the math involved.

I don't typically like hard SF. Space opera and science fantasy are my jam. But I do want some more technobabble in my science fiction. I understand that pacing is a concern, but it doesn't have to be a lot. Just a bit. It's the paprika on the deviled egg.

The characters didn't have a lot of internal drama, either. It's a rather plot-based story. There are some romantic elements. It was easy to see from the last book that Marce and Cardenia would become an item. Box checked. But, for the most part, the characters remained static people. There wasn't a lot of personal growth. Just preparation for the upcoming Flow collapse.

Finally, it doesn't feel like this is a middle book of a trilogy. It feels like book two out of at least a six book story. The overall story moves a bit, but not significantly. I still feel like there's a lot more to learn about this world. That's not a bad feeling; I'm being entertained. I just want more.

The overall length of the book was just over 300 pages. It could have at least 150 more pages. I would have loved to see more world-building, more character development, and also more advancement of the plot. What we got was good, but The Consuming Fire could have been even better.

The Collapsing Empire by John Scalzi

The Collapsing Empire is the opening volume of Scalzi's latest space opera series. In this world, it is the far future. Humanity has spread to the stars in a vast empire which has existed for a millennium. There has been only one dynasty: that of the Wu family.

Faster than light travel isn't available in the most familiar sense. No hyperspace or warp speed. Instead, starships sail on a space/time current called the Flow. It doesn't take hours or even days to travel; rather, weeks or even months. There are specific points where ships can enter and exit the Flow, called shoals. 

At the beginning of the book, the Empire is in trouble. The Flow is beginning to change. It's no longer becoming accessible to humanity. Some people believe that it's reversing course. Others think something more dire is occurring.

 

According to an interview with NPR, some wondered if the title was a thinly veiled reference to the perceived fragility of the United States. Scalzi pointed out that he was reaching further back. 

In fact I did think very generally about the "golden age" of European exploration, roughly corresponding to the 15th through 17th centuries, in the sense that the empires that rose out of that era were wholly dependent on natural forces (wind, ocean currents, rivers) to move their ships and shape their destinies with regard to trade and exploration. We're so used to having at least some mechanical control of our travel that it's hard to put oneself back into a mindset where travel took months, not hours, and was not always a safe and predictable thing.  

So there was no one particular empire in our past I was borrowing from, but rather, a whole historical gestalt, and then only loosely. Please, historians, don't tell me all the things I'm getting wrong about the European age of exploration! I know. I KNOW.

I loved this approach! I've always found this time frame to be rather fascinating. And the tropes of the Age of Discovery were rather apt for a space opera. For example, trade monopolies. From a historic perspective, the East India Trade Company exerted tremendous power in Great Britain. 5% of all imports came from India, and passed through the Company's control at some point. 

Something similar occurs in this story.  The imperial Wu family is the dominant powerhouse. But they've allowed other nobility members to have their own franchise monopolies. For example, the Lagos family has control of all citrus fruits in the Interdependency.  

Scalzi's trademark snark seasons the story. He's never going to be one of my favorite stylistic writers. In general, I've always found his descriptions generic at best. But his biting sense of humor is a solid compensation. It makes the story easy to read, and I found myself moving through it at a quick clip. 

One area that the humor shines through is in the name of the ships. Scalzi has acknowledged that Iain M. Banks's Culture series were an inspiration. And sometimes a well-crafted homage fits into the tone of a book. Every time I heard about the Yes, Sir, That's My Baby and No, Sir, I don't Mean Maybe it made me smile. 

A word of warning to those who dislike profanity in their stories: this book is heavily layered with them. One character, Kiva Lagos, works in profanity like a proficienct master orator bent towards the obscene. While I found her funny, I can understand why others would easily tire of Kiva's... creative license.

All in all, I'd recommend The Collapsing Empire. It's funny, its easy to read, and it's creative by looking backwards to extrapolate forward. The second book in the series, The Consuming Fire, was a recent release. So expect my thoughts on that soon.