Well this was fun! A mystery involving a dead djinn set in the same universe as The Haunting of Tram Car 015 with a badass suit-wearing inspector as tWell this was fun! A mystery involving a dead djinn set in the same universe as The Haunting of Tram Car 015 with a badass suit-wearing inspector as the protagonist. A little short, perhaps, but there's plenty more set in this world.
Having put it down in late August about halfway through, I have been reading A Master of Djinn for a shamefully long time. One of those weird cases whHaving put it down in late August about halfway through, I have been reading A Master of Djinn for a shamefully long time. One of those weird cases where I enjoyed it too much to DNF, but not enough to keep from being distracted by every other book out there. Still, I did, eventually finish it, and despite some plot structure issues, the worldbuilding makes it good enough to recommend.
After the discovery of the murder of a secret brotherhood/cult dedicated to Al-Jahiz, agent Fatma is on the case again. Especially since Al-Jahiz, the person who brought magic back into the word decades ago, seems to have returned, causing quite a bit of chaos. Is he the real deal or an impostor? What’s up with the murders? And in addition to that, Fatma is forced to work with a partner for the first time.
The worldbuilding is exquisite. I loved it in A Dead Djinn in Cairo (read it here!), I loved it in The Haunting of Tram Car 015, I love it still. At more than novella-length, the anti-colonialist themes are much more pronounced, with the West and especially England being the butt of many jokes, and it was fantastic.
The characters were good enough (besides, who doesn’t like a suit-wearing lesbian?) and I loved how Hadia forced Fatma to confront some of her own biases. Watching them grow from their rough beginning into a proper team was very fun.
However, I’m not so sure about the plot. The ending was great, but the first two thirds got very repetitive with “fight antagonist, lose, repeat,” which made the plot stall frustratingly despite the abundance of action and was a big part of why I put it aside for months. In addition, I also saw a major twist coming from a mile off, and I’m not a perceptive reader.
Still, I’ll gladly read more set in this world.
Enjoyment: 3/5 Execution: 3.5/5
Recommended to: those looking for a fast-paced standalone and unique worldbuilding with an anti-colonialist spin, fans of the novellas Not recommended to: those easily bothered by plot structure issues, those who don’t like obvious twists
By all means, this feels like it should have been interesting, but it just...isn't. I may return one day, but curreDNF 43%
It's not you, book, it's me.
By all means, this feels like it should have been interesting, but it just...isn't. I may return one day, but currently, I just can't get myself to push through.
I'd describe it as a western with a steampunk and slight New Weird flavour. From what I gathered, the world in the West is unformed and divided between two warring factions, between lawful evil and chaotic evil. One is the Line who represent order, technology, a highly bureaucratic society, travel with Engines, and fight with machines that can shatter a man's mind. The other is the Gun, who are highly individualistic, composed largely of lawbreakers, and fight with, well, guns. Both the Engines and the individual Guns seemed as sort of a collective identity pulling strings of humans. In the middle there used to be the Republic of the Red Valley, but now only the House Dolorous, a neutral hospital caring for those injured in war, and the mysterious, immortal Hillfolk (often enslaved and killed just because - obvious analogue much?) remain unaligned.
We follow a neurotic doctor of psychiatry on her way to the hospital, a Linesman and an Agent of the Gun - both of whom are interested in a man whose mind was shattered in the war.
And it's all well and good but the concept is more interesting in theory than it was in practice. I was intrigued, yet struggling because there was no emotional connection whatsoever. Even the worldbuilding reveals, which is usually what makes me get through such books prompted a "huh, that's...nice I guess?" instead of interest. The general structure reminded me a little of Unwrapped Sky except that the power-hungry lawful evil bureaucrat was boring instead of creepy. I was stalling more and more and giving less and less of a shit about what happens.
Reviewing sequels isn't easy. Especially not when they have been as anticipated as this one. Will it live up to the hype? Will it suffer from middle bReviewing sequels isn't easy. Especially not when they have been as anticipated as this one. Will it live up to the hype? Will it suffer from middle book syndrome? In the end, The Hod King left me mostly satisfied, eager for the sequel, but not without complaints.
You act as if she's a fancy, an errand. She is not! She is a woman whose life I ruined! Ruined with my pride, my inability, my selfishness. I will find her. I will offer my help if she needs it, my heart if she wants it, my head, even if she would see it on a stake!
The search for Marya continues. On Sphinx's orders, Senlin (with explicit orders to avoid trying to contact her) infiltrates the ringdom of Pelphia to investigate the possibility of a hod uprising, while Voleta's task is to contact Marya instead of him. Naturally, nothing goes as planned.
The writing style remains as good as ever, as do the characters. I particularly liked Voleta and Byron really grew on me as well. It takes place almost entirely in Pelphia and while I did miss exploring more of the tower (it's so vibrant), getting a more in-depth view of one of the ringdoms was pretty cool.
My main issue is with the structure. The book is split into three parts, each written from the POV of another character - Senlin, Voleta, and Edith. And since all the parts start at a similar same time, there's a lot of repetitiveness and it takes some time to get to the point where the previous part left off. It's somewhat similar to the split in The Two Towers and it simply didn't work for me. At all.
The ending is a tad cliffhangerish in some aspects, but tense enough to keep me turning pages, and enough things do get tied up. Can't wait for the sequel.
Enjoyment: 3.5/5 Execution: 3.5/5
Recommended to: those who have enjoyed the previous books Not recommended to: those who hate Two Towers-style POV splits or cliffhangerish endings
I delight in books that piss on convention and pull it off. The plotless, the strange, the experimental. City of Saints and Madmen makes all that I reI delight in books that piss on convention and pull it off. The plotless, the strange, the experimental. City of Saints and Madmen makes all that I read so far sound perfectly ordinary and reasonable. Of all the books I’ve ever read it is, by far, the oddest and the most experimental of them all. It very slightly resembles The Gray House in the sense of slowly discovering a world while reading (and that was the recommendation that made me pick it up), its use of unreliable narrator, and surrealism, but only a bit, in the most general of senses. The structure and the setting itself are entirely different.
Either way, I fucking loved it.
The window looked down on the city proper, which lay inside the cupped hands of a valley veined with tributaries of the Moth. It was there that ordinary people slept and dreamt not of jungles and humidity and the lust that fed and starved men’s hearts, but of quiet walks under the stars and milk-fat kittens and the gentle hum of wind on wooden porches.
The best words to describe it would be “delightfully insane.” Because it is. Utterly batshit and utterly fascinating.
There is no coherent narrative. The book is composed from several parts, ranging from relatively ordinary (well…by the standards of this book) novellas and short stories, to a history of the city written by a cranky old historian with an overwhelming love of footnotes, an interview/study of a madman who thinks that he made Ambergris up and really lives in Chicago, letters and notes, a 90-page scientific monograph on squid complete with an extensive bibliography (my favourite part, it’s hilarious), a pamphlet, and more. It’s far more of a mosaic portrait of the city of Ambergris than a straightforward story.
(I wish I had the mind for proper literary analysis because there’s probably a lot to dig up thematically too, but alas, I do not.)
And what a city it is. Through the book, we learn about its history, its customs, and its inhabitants. We learn of the mysterious gray cap people, the Festival of the Freshwater Squid, a few famous artists and composers. There are references to mushrooms and squid scattered throughout. There’s a nice sense of atmosphere, too. I appreciate it when writers refer to in-universe books, plays, works of art, historical events – it makes a setting feel much more lived in and less like a set piece for the story.
As some sections are written in character, the writing style and the structure vary. Dradin, In Love is descriptive and slightly flowery. The historian is snarky and prone to digression in footnotes. The Transformation of Martin Lake alternates between the story of the painter and the criticism of his paintings, with all the assumptions the critic makes. The Strange Case of X is a conversation between the writer and his characters (or is it?). The squidologist often misuses words or makes new ones up. The whole book is rife with unreliable narrator and general messing with the reader. It sounds like it could easily end up a pretentious, unreadable mess, but it’s executed flawlessly. No part of it should ever be skipped or skimmed, not the footnotes, not even the glossary (it’s a riot) and certainly not the few pages on the fonts used. True, it didn’t read fast thanks to its fragmented nature – still, it’s surreal, vivid, and not without a sense of humour.
Enjoyment: 4.5/5 Execution: 5/5
Recommended to: squid lovers, mushroom enthusiasts, fans of strange, non-linear, experimental stuff and unique settings Not recommended to: those looking for a straightforward story