[Recenzja] Voices of Hope

"Voices of Hope" is the fifth installment of "Seafort Saga", series I fell in love last year. Nicky Seafort, character constructed around strict and inelastic righteousness soaked in depression that made him unreliable and fascinating narrator, became one of my all-time favorites very quickly. I loved how deeply religious and moral he was - he and a big chunk of the world - how many strict rules made the story and character's struggle so intense. Feintuch put no distance between the reader and narrator so those books were emotionally exhaustive and I don't think I'll ever forget the ending of part four. 
All of those qualities are present in "Voices of Hope", yet this installment differs from first four greatly. First of all we have different set of narrators, some characters we know from previous books (Mista Chang, Robbie Boland), some new. Second, also very important - action takes place in N'Yawk, in trannietown, not on a navy ship or in the academy. This radical change of setting changes the tone of whole story significantly. The plot revolves around two events: deteriorating water situation in trannietown which forces tribes to cooperation and Seafort son, PT, running away from home to find his runaway friend he's convinced fled because of his harsh words (he might be an autistic twelve-year-old, but he is a Seafort to the bone). Since it's Seafort Saga this couldn't end well. Seafort himself is a minor character for the most of the book but it is still interesting to look at him from different perspective, especially since his narration is so unreliable. 
Since two of the narrators are trannies (trannie boy Pook and traytaman Chang) and action takes place mainly in trannietown, we get a lot of trannietalk in here. Personally I love it. I don't think there's such thing as too much of trannietalk (though, as other reviews show, I might be in the minority; consider yourselves warned). I am always fascinated how well made this language is, how simple yet precise and how obvious it becomes after a while. A lot of made-up dialects in fiction is terrible from linguistic perspective, it's hard to talk and think in them because they complicate language while its evolution never goes that way. Not trannietalk. 
Trannies are not reduced to the language, they have a lot more space here than in previous books and Feintuch shows us that while very different from us or Uppies and primitive in many aspects of their lives and culture, they are still human beings capable of complicated thought and deep feelings. In some cases they're more natural and honest than Uppies. Uppies on the other hand think they own da worl' and approach trannies with contempt - and get burned badly in the result. This is book about racism and genocide, about mindless cruelty of people treating other human beings worse than the animals. Even though they're armed only in knives and spears, trannies give a good fight, cleverly using their resources, and rather die than surrender into slavery. In this respect "Voices of Hope" are far more deep and complex book than the previous four. (and what a delight after flat and unconvincing "The Traitor Baru Cormorant")
It was almost a year since I've read first four books. I needed this time to cool down after the "Fisherman's Hope" ending. I think it was also good because "Voices..." are so different. If I've read them directly after previous one, expecting more Nicky, Navy and regulations I think I would be very disappointed because there’s only a tiny bit of it in the end of the novel (and Lord God, how perfectly Seaforty it is! even the hanging is mentioned, my favorite of inappropriate inside jokes). Instead I've got a big load of the familiar world, a lot about trannie culture, and this atmosphere I love. And a bunch of interesting characters (especially Halber). And, what I think might be important for some people because I saw it mentioned in reviews several times, construction of the book is different, we don't get the three-part scheme known from parts 1-4. I don't mind but I saw people do have a problem with it. 
I like this book very much and I think it is a worthy addition to the "Seafort Saga". It is different, though, so if read directly after previous ones it might disappoint - not because it's bad but because it is distinctly different.

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[Rachunek za] Rok 2024 - filmy

 Książkowe podsumowanie znajdziecie tutaj.

Co widziałam? 

W 2024 obejrzałam 18 filmów, w tym 4 dokumentalne i 2 animacje. Większość na licznych streamingach. Rok zaczął się przyjemnie - Renfieldem, który jest akurat na tyle niepoważny, żeby bawić przez cały czas. Polecam, do zobaczenia na Sky Showtime. Ostatni film 2022 - Paddington 2 również jest wielce godzien uwagi (znajdziecie go na Amazon Prime). 

Najlepszy film fabularny

Filmy fabularne zdecydowanie dominowały w tym roku i niemal wszystkie są godne uwagi. Niemniej, nominowani w kategorii najlepszy film fabularny to: 

Gangubai Kathiawadi, Chłopiec i czapla, Opadające liście, Na rauszu

Kusiło mnie dorzucenie tutaj i Paddingtona 2 ale to jednak trochę inny kaliber. Z tej czwórki zresztą wcale nie jest łatwo wybrać. Gangubai jest wybitna pod każdym względem, jak to zwykle u Bhansaliego. Chłopiec i czapla dokonał niemożliwego - to film Miyazakiego, który naprawdę mnie zachwycił. I ta muzyka! Opadające liście są przepięknie, takie niezręczne, przyziemne, codzienne i prawdziwe. Na rauszu zaś to film o wesołych pijakach, świeży oddech po abstynenckich wysrywach, których pełno ostatnio w internecie. Co spojrzę na któryś z tych plakatów, to myślę sobie, że tak, to jest ten najlepszy. A potem patrzę na następny i jednak ten jest chyba najlepszy. Dlatego wszystkie 4 zajmują pierwsze miejsce ex aequo. 

Gangubai jest do zobaczenia na Netflixie, ale chyba nie ma polskich napisów (więc wam się nie wyświetli jeśli nie macie ustawionego języka aplikacji - nie napisów! - na angielski). Chłopiec i czapla też jest na Netflixie. Opadające liście można wypożyczyć na kilku platformach, chociażby na Nowych Horyzontach za 12,90zł, Uważam, że warto. Na rauszu jest dostępne na Maxie albo do wypożyczenia na TVP VOD za 8zł. 

Najlepszy dokument

Nie będę się nawet bawiła w nominacje. Jakkolwiek zarówno dokument o Maryli jak i ten o Smoleniu są bardzo dobre, to nie mają startu do Wernera Herzoga.

Into the Inferno

Opis tego filmu na upflixie mnie spłakał "Werner Herzog i jego przyjaciel Clive Oppenheimer eksplorują aktywne wulkany na całym świecie." 

No tak, można tak powiedzieć. Można też powiedzieć, że Moby Dick to książka o wprawie na ryby (no, polowanie). Ten film to jakieś metafizyczne doświadczenie, traktuje wulkany jako punkt przejścia pomiędzy światem który rozumiemy i tym, czego pojąć nie można, jako granicę między światem ludzi a światem... nieludzkim. A wszystko to z jakąś chorobliwą intensywnością charakterystyczną dla Herzoga. On patrzy światu w duszę. 

Do zobaczenia na Netflixie. 

Najgorszy film 

Tutaj oskarżonych jest dwóch: 

Invictus, Hrabia Monte Christo 

Invictus jest nudny, bez polotu i bez rugby. Jestem w szoku, że Clint Eastwood zdołał zrobić tak słaby film. W dodatku film sportowy, który nie jest ciekawy - nie wiedziałam, że to w ogóle możliwe. Ok, powiecie, to biografia. I to nie sportowca ale polityka. Tylko, że ma to być biografia opowiedziana z perspektywy wydarzenia sportowego, które odegrało ogromną rolę w historii. Które zjednoczyło naród, chociaż nie miało prawa tego zrobić. Książka nie jest porywająca, ale jest zdecydowanie, zdecydowanie lepsza. Mimo wszystko jednak słaby film to jeszcze nie to samo co bezczelna próba poprawienia Dumasa. Także filmowy Nicpan wędruje do Hrabiego Monte Christo, gniota o którym dość już się rozpisałam. Zmiana motywacji bohaterów, dodanie bredni w rodzaju templariuszy, okropne zdjęcia, prymitywna muzyka... ba, za sam casting na Eugenię należałby się Nicpan. 

Wszyscy podejrzani w kolejności oglądania: 

Renfield

Ganghubai Kathiawadi

Invictus

Chłopiec i czapla

Maryla. Tak kochałam

Wandea. Zwycięstwo albo śmierć 

Opadające liście 

Into the Inferno

Fighter

Piekło '63

Muminki na Rivierze 

Bohdan Smoleń

Yooper Creoles: Finnish Music in Michigan's Copper Country

Hrabia Monte Christo 

Na rauszu

Kina i Yuk

Paddington

Paddington 2 

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The Subtle And Insane Art Of Planning Not To Plan

Since I started writing novels in November this mad endeavor taught me a few things – valuable things I’ll forever be grateful for. One of those is that to write 50k words in 30 days I must plan. And also, that I cannot plan. Paradoxical? Yeah, I guess. Let me explain.

Before doing NaNo I never planned anything. I was pantster extraordinaire. Planning disgusted me. OK, maybe not that hardcore. But for me inventing stuff, coming up with ideas – that’s writing. I can either write it down or not but if it was already thought of, it’s kinda... Done. Writing down something already devised is a chore for me, awful, impossible chore.

So with a fresh idea in mind – just a three characters and vague sketch of a setting – I sat down to write it in 30 days of November 2010. How hard could that be, right? Well, surprise-surprise it wasn’t that easy after all. Oh, I started good, even tough 1667 words was a lot for me back then. Around halfway mark I realised tough that I’m running in circles. I had 25k words, a lot by my back then standards, but in there one scene was written no less than three times. A little bit different each time, but essentially exactly the same: Vir received a gun, a very special gun but why it was special and who gave it to him was different each time. And what’s worst each of these scenes was absolutely needed where it was now. It’s impossible to cut them out – because other than making no sense it is a very well constructed text indeed. Other scenes were doubled too, but not in such hardcore ways. Maybe if I wasn’t out of ideas, I would not give up, but I was exhausted and produced a complete mess out of the idea I still think was very good. So I gave up on that November 2010, tired beyond belief but sure I’ll try to rescue my novel some time in the future.

Even tough I lost that year I never considered it a failure. I rarely do with anything: whatever happens to me is always a lesson. Sometimes I must pay for it, sometimes it comes free but in the end of the day, if you can draw some conclusions from it, it’s a net positive. That faithful November 2010 I learned I should plan after all. Not planning was good for writing occasionally, few days at time, short scenes of 200-300 words, slowly compiling what I have and adding to it. But it was impossible to do in a breakneck pace of NaNoWriMo. I had no time to read what I have each time I sat to writing. I had no time to remember what I have written. Hence: running around in circles, tighter and tighter circles...

Logically in November 2011, I had a plan. Right now, it’s even hard for me to remember what it was exactly, I have just very vague recollection because... I abandoned it after a day or two. Oh, I had quite a lot written (5-6k?), because other thing I learned is that writing just the required 1667 words each day is asking for trouble. I’m not good at catching up. I’m an overachiever. I feel comfortable getting ahead, finishing early. If deadline is next week, I’m doing the thing tomorrow and I have a week of freedom. My record for 1st day is probably around 10k (7k at least) and my standard pace I developed is around 3k a day. But let’s get back to the 2011 NaNoWriMo and my thought-out idea.

I wouldn’t call it properly planned today but I had everything thought out. Just sit down and write. I got words on paper for sure. But it was like stabbing myself in the thigh with each one of these. It was boring and my mind was empty. So I’ve written a lot and then decided I can’t take it anymore and jumped into writing something I started few months ago but only had first volume written and I had nothing for the second one. They’re coming to the new planet, that’s all.

In December 2010 I was introduced to the 750words.com. I’ve done few days but abandoned it to come back in January and get hooked. And by that I mean I currently hold almost 5000 days streak (it would be more but 70 days in I went for a short trip and didn’t write the for like 3 days).

It is important because it trained me to think fast, to keep better mental notes about what I have written already and to have my writing muscles flexing and ready to go at any time.

My first nano starved because of lack of ideas. My second got terminally bloated because of abundance of them. I won easly but it just reinforced my conviction that I have to plan somehow, just not the way I did this year.

I 2012... I don’t remember what my plan was, because I’m pretty sure I ditched it after first day too. I remember that because it became kind of a meme in our region. In the end I was writing the 3rd volume of my 2011one novel. I did it, I won for the 2nd time, but it still wasn’t it. I had too much planned to keep me happy, I didn’t have enough to keep it in shape.

2013 was the year for me. The idea for Virgo Atergo came to me in May. Since then every November idea came to me in May. In August I gave it a thought or two (and each year since I do that in August too) and decided that’s it. I’m not sure when exactly I decided on a formula (two timelines, one going backwards) and picked languages and cultures I’ll be basing stuff on but probably September (since then I always do planning phase in September). And the I wrote it and it was brilliant. Oh, it required a lot of work afterwards, but it worked. It worked because I had very basic frame that kept me more or less in line. It wasn’t perfect, some stuff still got out but in the end of the day I had a coherent story and could incorporate insane ideas of the third week (main character pretends too be magical messiah; 3rd week told me he’s allergic to magic).

That’s it, I finally nailed it. I underplanned and overplanned and finally got some balance. To the point that in 2014 I’ve written old text from scratch. I never did such a thing. I considered used ideas dead. Writing it again was a chore, a boring, painful chore... Not this time. I managed to strip what I had to a very basic frame and even managed to write the same scenes (some remained very similar to the first version) without too much pain.

In 2017 I’ve read Structuring Your Novel by K.M. Weiland and it helped me immensely but the experience my more or less successful attempts at writing 50k in 30 days were essential for my growth as a writer. Without that insane endeavour I’d never learn that I actually do have to plan and that those plans have to be just some sticks and twine. A subtle frame only, key events, never defined too strictly, just to keep everything in place.

If you hate planning but are also displeased with the results – maybe try planning after all. Just remember that you don’t have to write an detailed outline (I shiver in disgust at the very thought). Just write down those four points that seem essential and then fill the blanks during the writing. Or maybe even erase something altogether. Don’t be a slave to the plan, make it work for you.

 

APPENDIX

Just some example plan of mine, so you know what kind of vagueness I’m talking about. It’s my 2023 November Novel.

 

Legend:

Didn’t happen at all

Happened but in different place/way

Actually happened as planned!

 

1st Act: Carbonada (main character) looks for an assistant; she’s working on some case

1st plotpoint: she gets the Pink girl case (the father gives her the job, the mother throws her out)

2nd Act, pt 1: Carbonada has the whole wall of victims of similar „overdose”; Eli throws away her soul detecting necklace („I have no idea where it is, did you check under the desk?”); they go the hacker (Zhara); second case: Posthumanopol creates androids with defective bodies, Carbonada to gather evidence they did it on purpose; Carbonada is buying cards. Setback: another victim

Midpoint: Zhara falls victim, Carbonada is pissed

2nd Act, pt 2: Carbonada resigns from other cases, she’s only focusing on Soul Thief; she goes to the old buddies in Police Department; there’s only a dog on cctv; Setback: Carbonada finally gets the Soul Thief card, but there’s no face on it.

3 plot point: Eli plants drugs in the house. (somebody else does; in different moment and context, for other reasons and it is very crucial that this is NOT Eli who does that)

3rd act: Carbonada starts using again, she seeks comfort in Eli’s arms.

Culmination: Carbonada gets off drugs and in the moment of clarity OR asking the cards she discovers the truth; Eli runs away with tail between his legs.

 

And to be perfectly clear: this is all I had, it’s not that behind the short sentences here there was more in my head. Nope. But I consider it a good plan. It keeps the most important things in my view (I make a table out of it and keep it in sight at all times) but it does not by any sense limit my imagination (as you can clearly see in how much stayed in its planned space). In one way or another all of that happens in the novel but in different places, by different characters etc. But what I was madly writing never slipped too much into one of those off-topic runaway plotlines that plagued my early novels: nowadays when I don’t have any idea what to write next, I look at this plan, not let my imagination run loose.

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Where is Herman? In garden

It’s a dumb joke, this thing above. Who knows, maybe some know already what it’s going to be about.  Who knows, maybe Herman Melville himself would appreciate this joke. Or maybe not. In fact, what would he think about it is far less important than what potential reader thinks about it. So what will this text be about? Melville, for sure. But most of all about how we are perceiving texts of culture and what influences that.

Whales have layers too

Toward phenomenology of whales

There’s many theories of interpretation and meaning of literary work. If you’re curious – google such terms like psychoanalysis, phenomenology, Russian formalism, American formalism, Bachtin’s anthropology of culture and literature, hermeneutics, structuralism, semiotics, poststructuralism, pragmatism, historicism… and there are few more to add. Each one of them has different approach to the role of the reader (and the author) in the process of reading. Some seek universal pure meaning and others think any context is a good context. For sure for each their own, I can only invite you for a little reflection from the perspective of literary work as stratified formation. Mostly because it seems the most practical, especially when it comes to what I’m trying to say here.

Some trends killed the author long ago but personally I think it’s a step to far. Authors intentions can’t be ignored simply because there would be no literary work without them. It’s also hard to pretend that author existed in perfect vacuum and knowledge about the context in which he lived is unnecessary. (Of course we can ignore everything and invent anything, taking our conclusions straight outta ass and current weather. If you know answer for the old question of “y tho”, good luck. With such assumptions, discussion is pointless tho]. At the same time pretending the reader and context in which he exist is irrelevant is equally laughable. So I can be clear: I’m talking exactly about finding the equilibrium between what author wrote and what we’re reading, with specific focus on not looking for one true and only interpretation. It’s not about not wearing pink-tainted glasses but knowing we are having them on our noses.

Literary work we’re experiencing is exactly that – a mix of author’s intentions filtered by what he actually achieved and our pre-judgments - expectations, opinions, ideas – what we think the book is going to be.

We can’t get rid of pre-judgements, often we aren’t even aware of them – and the thing is to be aware of them. When we’re expecting drama and receive comedy it’s not hard to be disappointed but whose fault is that? In most cases the author didn’t try to deceive us. Of course being aware of pre-judgements doesn’t magically make us like things that we’re not impressed with, but at least it’ll help us understand why we don’t like something and that it isn’t necessarily book being bad. We should be judging things for what they are and what they’re trying to be, not what we expect them to be. We won’t be less disappointed but said disappointment will be aimed at better direction.

Bunch of guys on a fishing trip or gay sex and black masses?

It cannot be denied that different people are amused and moved by different things. Even though some styles will be more engaging than others (hello, V.C. Andrews anyone?), some will love “Walden” and others, at mere mention of it will go eat something highly processed and breathe the exhaust fumes.

What is the general stereotypical opinion about the classics or even literary fiction in general? Come on, don’t be ashamed. How is it, huh? Boring, isn’t it. And even if nor boring, then at least serious. Dead serious.

And now anyone who actually read some of it (just Dickens i.e.) will dramatically rise their arms and ask me politely what the fuck I’m talking about. Therefore the explanation: I’m not asking how thing are but how they’re perceived . Where does this belief in the seriousness and boredom of the classics come from? I think it’s the same place where “I’m not reading it because I’m told to” lives: weird mix of stereotypes, bad teaching and misdirected rebellion.

Do we have to grow up to some books? In some sense – for sure. That is: there are some themes that will resonate more with someone having more and/or different life experiences than a teenager, but kids in general are not too stupid to appreciate  things and we need to stop telling them otherwise. What I’m trying to say tho is that when it comes to reading, especially more ambitious literature (this name in itself carries a baggage of pre-judgements) our attitude, not our age, experience or even interests, is of utmost importance.

If we’re going to read Moby Dick as a novel about literal hunting down a white whale or even epic tale of vengeance, no wonder we’ll find it boring – there’s almost none of those in it. Plot in general is a stowaway in this novel, thrown over the board and dragged back on deck somewhere at the end. Obviously we’ll be disappointed looking for a traditional novel where it doesn’t exist. It doesn’t mean I think everyone will enjoy Moby Dick, I’m far from that. But we should judge it for what it is.

If we’re reading something dead set on it being serious, it’ll make no sense to us if it actually isn’t. Moby Dick is like ocean, you need to let the waves carry you away, accept everything that is happening and enjoy this shoreless insane vision. There’s place here for gay romance and black mass, for events that are indeed SPECTACULAR (the birth of Tashtego!) that Melville describes with a one of kind gusto. There are narrative choices in Moby Dick that would scare most authors of today – but Melville? He’s not afraid of anyone. Nobody, NOBODY will tell him that Ahab can’t be such drama queen every time he gets on board everything changes into drama. Down with the prose, let the stage directions rule! If the reader approaches such a book with total, crude seriousness and will treat every event completely in earnest and without certain... gusto characterizing the described events, style or even the narrator himself and his morbid fascination with whales - then of course the reader will be stranded on the shore in state of complete consternation.

That something was created long time ago doesn’t mean it was written by this scary old uncle you were afraid as a child. Sense of humor is not a new thing. And even serious matters can be discussed with levity and humor. Fathers and Sons convey some universal truths about the conflict between generations in the form of a lovable comedy. Raskolnikov kills the old hag with an axe specifically because of something we would call a meme today. Throughout the ages people didn’t really change that much. There are some cultural differences that will keep us apart but in general there’s far more that connects us. Maybe jokes were forbidden in school but it wasn’t right and we have to free ourselves from this artificial seriousness. Old book doesn’t have to be boring nor serious nor even especially wise. Classics are not holly cows. You can dislike them, you can disagree with them, you can have FUN reading them. Not high, intellectual kind of fun (though it’s obviously a valid kind of enjoyment). Dumb fun is fun too. Haha fun. Shipping the characters fun. Exploring XIXth century society the same way you’d explore elvish customs in a fantasy book fun.

 

You don’t have to like it but at least face it

Herman Melville was wild. His prose is wild. Definitely this means that not everyone will fancy it. There’s whole chapter in Moby Dick solely about whale’s tail. MAD, but – by God – he was not boring. I think most people read is a white whale chase story while Melville wrote hundreds of pages about how pointless it is (well, that’s one of the interpretations, there are many and some of them are really wild). Moby Dick is like the sea, like the ocean. Shoreless and way more powerful than us. You cannot defeat it – but you can bounce on the waves and enjoy the trip.

 

Method or madness?

It would be probably very fitting to sum up all this talk with a bunch of advice how to live, but my point is I don’t want to sell you one true solution beyond being aware of your own expectations and not blaming their consequences on other people (i.e. an author). You can read a lot about the author, the book, the context of times or you can wing it all, simply remembering that you know nothing and anything is possible. The most important thing is letting the book be whatever it likes to, not enclosing it in our expectations but letting it influence us instead.

Then again... is this a step to far? 

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[Recenzja] Problem trzech ciał

In the afterword author says that “the most beautiful stories were written not by bards and poets but by science” (yes *science*, not even “nature” or God or anything that could make it metaphoric or religious or philosophical). And… yes. “Three Body Problem” reads as book written by someone so primitive and lacking basic understanding of culture not to mention human nature or storytelling, to say such a moronic thing. It's flat and boring and as imaginative as an academic textbook based on irrelevant theory disproved long time ago.

The premise is not that bad, but execution is, to be honest, shocking. It's so abhorrent I cannot even decide what is the worst aspect of it. Flat characters made emotionless by horrible past yet emotionally motivated though there is no way reader can believe this pieces of paper have any life in them at all? The structure that gives us the inciting event after the 50% mark? The style, this wonderful mix of primary school writing and Paulo Coelho truisms? Infodumping on a scale not even imagined before? (in a way this whole book is an infodump)

In what world do we live in where we prosecute authors for views not connected to literature but people saying such preposterous things about literature get awards…?

It's bad. BAD. The only reason to read is to learn how the world without artists would look like. (spoiler: like shit).

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[Recenzja] Legends of the first empire

Who? Michael J. Sullivan

What? "Legends of the First Empire" series

Why? I loved Ryiria

When? May-June 2020

Rating: 6/10, a disappoitment  

Krótkie uwagi o każdym z tomów, po polsku, znajdują się w rachunkach za maj i czerwiec 2020. 

I liked the upbeat tone of Ryiria. It was actually a breath of fresh air, it was something truly wholesome and not gonna lie, it did help me because I was in a really bad place when I was reading it. But the generally upbeat tone didn't mean the writing was naive or childish. It didn't mean there was no suffering or death.

In theory they're here too. But because we have so fucking many characters none of it has time to ring true. There's a horrible betrayal in Ryiria books. You know the one. You remember it years later and would probably strangle the human shitstain that did it. There's also a whole lot of mistreatment, betrayal and tragedy in "Legends..." but because there's so many characters we have no time to ponder. Mawyndulë's world was just shattered in so many ways? Cool, but we have this other stuff to do and he was a meany so screw him, lets jump to another hasty dialogue to sum up two or maybe three other plot lines, just to jump to another one so we can waste some time on some dead people, and then...

Most of the dramatic events, like deaths of characters, sacrifices etc. happen off-camera. Oh my, belive me, I was sooooo moved by the horribel death of some guy I didn't even remember existed. 

You know... I knew it won't be Feintuch's "The King". I didn't even expect something as good a Ryiria. But hell, I'm in shock that it's the characters that are the worst part of it. First thing I'd say about Ryiria is the characters are awesome. Not only the boys but all of them. Fleshed out, with complex motivations. And what we get here? We get Moya. But honestly, they're all awful, maybe except Mawyndulë, but he's not the greatest ether. Raithe wasn't bad as a character, but then again he was whiny and not really interesting as a protagonist. In the end Imaly stands out and maybe Malcolm. All of the rest are just few character traits bundled together with some very cheap glue, spread very thinly because there's so fucking many of characters. I'd be willing to assume they seem like it because there's not enough space for them to shine (as if there was too many of them or something) if not the absolutely abhorrent "emotional" scenes. I mean seriously, that part where Moya suddenly is outraged and hurt that everyone thinks she's kind of a village whore DESPITE RUDE VILLAGE WHORE BEING HER WHOLE CHARACTER UP UNTIL THIS POINT (and later too, she just stops being useless), that part, with everyone crying and acting as if they all were fourteen year old girls on their period, this shit was vile. Any other author would land on my blacklist immediately after that. 

And don't get me wrong. I understand what Sullivan was trying to do here. I mean not with that Moya bullshit, fuck Moya. But those are "Legends of the First Empire", I get it. Problem is, those characters, how legendary wouldn't they be, are not interesting in any way, shape or form. In "Age of Myth" I took most of them as side characters we'll promptly forget but in fact we have to deal with them through all of the series. The horrible Roan-invents-sliced-bread joke I took for this exactly - a cringy joke so popular in western popculture - has a whole BOOK for itself and nothing in it makes sense.

Yeah, sure, all of those people have a role in the plot. And that's where their characters start and end, with very few exceptions. 

I said it at the beginning and I'll say it once more. This books are not upbeat in tone, it's childish and naive. Simplified, dumbed down. So many things were handled that way I was confused who the hell is the target audience of this book. It deals with politics, rapes, abuses, murders etc. that are not comprehensible for a child. On the other hand they're written in very simple way, too simple for an adult to stand. 

If after "Age of Myth" you're optimistic, stop. If you didn't even like that - just give up. "Age of Swords" is so awful, I recommend reading the summary and moving on. Other books aren't that bad, though certainly not brilliant either. When we finally get to who is who and politics it gets significantly more interesting but those bits are mostly near the end. The identity of Malcolm and his role in the grand scheme of things are interesting. We get some tiny bits about the stuff from Ryiria books. The way afterlife is organized here was pretty neat. But there's also Moya and the rest of this flat, boring husks of characters. 

I do not regret reading it that much but this series is mostly simply méh. Last 2 books are more interesting than previous ones. First one is the best in terms of writing.

I think in the end it was as disappointing as I was afraid it will be. 

Age of Myth 8/10
Age of  Swords 2/10
Age of  War  6,5/10
Age of  Legend 6,5/10
Age of Death 6,5/10
Age of Empyre 6,5/10

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[Recenzja] Myke Cole "Armored Saint"

Who? Myke Cole

What? "Armored Saint"

Why? They gave it for free

When? December 2018

Rating:  1/10, absolute toxic shite. 

I avoid Tor Publishing since the despicable way they treated John C. Wright few years back (one of their employees slandered him and they refused to draw any consequences towards her), but this little gem they gave for free. I’ve never heard of the author or the book, had zero expectations and a goodreads challenge to win, so I read it. And I have a bunch of questions.
Who the hell is the target audience of this book? A lot of imagery and especially main character (we’ll get to her in a minute) make it seem like a children’s book. The same with truly horrible “power of love” speech which is in the same time focused on lgbt issues not to mention some scary ideas. Ability to love is the thing that makes you a good person? Well, Goebbels would love to hear that. Also, remember dear kids, that love is always good no matter how the other party receives it, and whole Magic Gay Man From The Forest talk is in the aftermath of main character tricking her friend to kiss her. What is this? Rape apology for ten year olds? The fuck?
In the same time we have a lot of graphic content – a lot of violence, genocidal mobs, limbs missing, people smashed into the pulp, brain matter flying around and such. WHO IS THE TARGET OF THIS BOOK?!
Main character doesn’t help a bit. She’s supposedly sixteen but I was shocked when I read that – she acts somewhere between five or twelve year old and rather dumb and badly behaved one. Everything, EVERYTHING in this book happens because Heloise makes something so dumb a much smaller child would know it shouldn’t be done and she is praised for “being brave”. She doesn’t even have some convoluted logic behind her, she just acts on a whim or because “her body took over”. Every goddamn time the catastrophe could be easily avoided if she wasn’t escalating the conflicts for no reason.
And because Heloise’s dumb behavior is always praised I don’t really know what is the take out of this. As long as you're able to love someone everything you do is justified? What the hell?
It is not badly written style-wise but when it comes to the structure and some more “technical” stuff its rather awful. Not only the mood of it changes rapidly and nonsensically (Magic Gay Man From The Forest with a little mouse on his shoulder in the middle of some magic slaughter?) but also all foreshadowing is so heavy handed this book soon went from predictable (and I am not allergic to predictable!) to ridiculous very fast. There is also whole chapter about Heloise tricking her best friend to kiss her, WHOLE CHAPTER, and the amount of useless words in there includes even a retrospection and the actual kiss is not described. Not to mention that we’re talking about two teen girls. After this abomination we get the Magic Gay Man From The Forest monologue about love justifying whatever you do and making you a good person which makes another chapter.
The only thing I like was the fact that Writ was right and wizards do turn into portals to Hell, though I only wished for it in the name of “if it’s gonna be dumb let it at least be entertaining”.
This book doesn’t start bad and I hoped for a read maybe not very intellectually engaging but at least fun but it gets worse and worse and worse with each chapter and after the midpoint it’s just shit. I rarely not finish books even if they’re bad but honestly the only reason I didn’t throw it into the bin in the middle of that power of love speech is goodreads challenge. I have two to go and very little time considering Christmas and New Year’s Eve celebrations.
Nah, no. Sorry, but no.

After many months I must admit that I still think about how toxic and fucked up is the "love justifies all" thinking (and some other ideas promoted here), so at least it's not one of those book you forget about even when you're still reading it. I recommend it only if you need to induce vomiting. 

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[Recenzja] Catherynne M. Valente "Space Opera"

Who? Catherynne M. Valente

What? "Space Opera"

Why? Come on, it's Valente's book on Eurovision. And main character is called Decibel Jones. 

When? May 2018

Rating:  7/10, it's Eurovision after all.  

Am I an Eurovision fan? I am honestly not sure if I can call myself that. I watch it every year, drunk with both champagne and laughter but I do that for shits and giggles. This is a festival, as someone I once knew said, of shit and fresh poo. Every year there might me one song that is not making me seriously consider becoming deaf. Off-tune wailing is simply not my thing. I am not – contrary to Valente – moved by the spirit of this contest, this grand and commendable (I am not denying that) idea of uniting war-torn Europe in silly singing festivities. Especially since in recent years the Eurovision became more and more politicized.
I do love glitter though. Glitter and kitsch, and Polish commentary (Artur Orzech FTW!), and have morbid fascination with horrible attempts to sing made by people who shouldn’t do that – and it’s also an occasion to laugh at all that and drink alcohol – that brings me every year in front of my laptop. All of that made me super-excited when I’ve heard about “Space Opera”. Eurovison? In space?! Written by Valente?!? GIB. NOW.
Was I disappointed? The same way I am disappointed with every Valentes book except “Deathless”. Beautifully written but in the end without any other purpose than being beautifully written. In case of “Space opera” it was more weird and flashy in sake of weird and flashy. I do understand that – it is, in the end, an Eurovision of a novel and Eurovision is by design weird, flashy and pointless (as opposed to horrors of WW2). For me though the only value of Eurovision is making fun of how horrible it is. So, yeah, Valente managed to create literary equivalent of swedish-pop song contest and it is predictably awful.
Of course I am exaggerating.
There are some very strong elements in “Space Opera”. For one: I love the characters (by which I mean Decibel and Oort), and I was impressed by the way Valente kills one character before they even have a chance to became part of the novel and this is still a very impactful death and has a strong meaning throughout the whole thing. And I was genuinely in shock how invested I became in the fate of Decibel and Oort, to the point where I was screaming IT BETTER HAVE HAPPY ENDING. I liked the absurd of it all, I liked all the puns.
Then again maybe not.
I felt like nothing except the backstory of Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros was actually thought through. That was the meat, that was good, that have emotions and drama in it. All the rest was just rather gaudy ornamentation, with no meaning, no point and it was… Would I call it boring? Maybe not. But it was… tedious at points. It was supposed to be weird and flashy but in the end fell flat on its face because it was *too absurd* and became just pointless word-salad. There was no internal logic governing the universe of Ursulas and all that other crap I wasn’t really compelled to remember, because it had no meaning to the story at all. I remember Ursulas because the name was easy and have no idea which one were they anyway.
I do not regret buying this book or reading it? Not at all, but except flashbacks parts it was mostly just meh with a hit of “oh come on, that’s plain dumb” here and there. It was fun, I’m not denying that, but too long to hold the meat on its bones with this type of absurd humor because it was to detached from the plot itself. I feel like it would be much, much better novel if about 1/3 of it, especially in the last section, was simply thrown away. I get that describing all the weird ways songs were sang in the final was supposed to show how rich, diverse and weird the universe is compared to old boring Earth but it simply wasn’t. It was just words put together, mashed into weird combinations I honesty had nothing to do with because they were too abstract.
I am conflicted because, contrary to probably all of the above, I like “Space Opera”. Maybe it is the same way I do, in a way, like the horrible music atrocity of Eurovision. Maybe, in the end, Valente was so successful in writing novel version of Eurovision that there was no way I would like it.
Maybe you should just read it yourself. Decibels story alone is worth it anyway.

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