An old Russian storyteller presents stories that revolve around a magical golden bear in this slow and stilted foray into Russian folklore and history. The premise holds promise, but unbelievable characters and a disjointed narrative suck the life from it from the beginning.
Papa Grigory, who alternately tells the story of a romance between Rosa, a young woman blessed (or cursed) with magical gifts, and Daniel, a writer who is often fearful and lacks direction, and the history of the enchanted golden bear, which brings the unlikely couple back together after an affair carried on before the book opens. Rosa, who lives in St. Petersburg with her uncle, calls upon Daniel when contractors find the bear hidden within the walls of a building her uncle has purchased. It is in a bathhouse, where, it is explained, sorcerers practice magic. Now, I don’t know a great deal about Russian folklore, but this seems a bit strange to me. The bear is dirty but might be valuable, so Daniel, who is educated in Russian history, is pleased when Rosa asks for his help, not only because he is interested in the bear, but because he is still quite interested in her. Apparently their affair ended badly without sufficient explanation from Rosa, who seems to prefer very short and physically motivated relationships for a reason she finally reveals to him at the end of the book.
When Daniel and his work colleague, Em, take the bear out of town for closer inspection by someone more qualified than Daniel, the bear takes them on a journey to Skazki, an alternate world. They both seem to accept this without too much disbelief, which is, well, pretty unbelievable, especially considering that Em is extremely practical and rather fearless. She has a child from a failed marriage who she doesn’t see and in whom she only has a cursory interest, and is referred to by her co-workers as “frozen solid.” The story starts to feel very much like The Wizard of Oz, and eventually Daniel mentions this to Em: “We’re like two rejects from Oz, Em. You don’t have a heart, and I have no courage.”
While Daniel and Em are trapped in this dangerous world, attempting to take the bear to the Snow Witch, who, they are told, will help them back to Mir, their own world, Rosa is frantically trying to learn the magic she needs to enter this other world and save them. In a house in the country where she poses as a tutor for a young boy, the boy’s father trains her, slowly, in the spells she needs to safely cross the veil that separates the worlds and keep herself from danger once she is there. His wife is jealous, his daughter is possessed by love for her dead husband, and his new son in law is lost in the midst of his love for the possessed girl and his physical desire for Rosa.
The only respite from this complicated drama is the interludes regarding the history of the bear and its creation and importance in the maintenance of balance between the two worlds, along with Papa Grigory’s involvement with the whole business. He admits he is not always known by this name, as some call him Koschey the Deathless, others, the mad monk, and yet others, Chyort, or the devil. His emotional investment in the bear and the consequences of its use or misuse (which of course is all a matter of perspective) is very human for a supernatural creature, and the most believable of the feelings described in the book. The other characters are inconsistent in their behavior and speech, and the relationships between them are not well developed. Em, for example, is very focused on her career and clearly used to the finer things in life, but under pressure in Skazki she can bake bread from memory, sew, and fashion shoes from bark and fur. Daniel is mysteriously fearful and fussy about everything and often annoyingly close to tears. Rosa loves Daniel and is prepared to risk her life to save him, but in the meantime, she is attracted to various men and fantasizes about having sex with them. While studying with the wizard-magician on his farm, she rolls around with the son in law in the barn, Daniel quickly forgotten as she initiates sex with this poor young man, who has been deprived of his husbandly rights with his wife because she is possessed by her love for her dead husband. After a playful and explicit romp in the hay, the pair go into the farmhouse and Rosa explains that a spell has been cast to make him impotent in his wife’s bed, and once that is lifted, she asks if he would like to check to make sure it is gone. It is very hard to believe that Rosa adores Daniel as she claims, when it is so easy for her to be intimate with other men.
This was a hard book to finish. Why is Rosa afraid of a serious relationship? What will happen to Papa Grigory and his adopted daughter if the bear is not used as he wills it? Will Em and Daniel make it out of Skazki alive? Will Rosa sleep with every man she meets, and if so, how will she have the time to learn magic spells? Who cares? With lines like this: “She dropped his hand, and sucked the blood off her fingers. It fizzed like sherbet on her tongue,” and characters as flat as Russia’s tax rate, the ending does not come soon enough.

The Serpent Bride, the start of a new series by noted Australian author Sara Douglass, we see a melding of several different tales into something new. Set in the same world as her Wayfarer Redemption series, she brings back characters from that long series and combines them with characters from two of her standalones, Threshold and Beyond the Hanging Wall. There may be characters from elsewhere but I’ve certainly not read all of her books so am not familiar with all of her characters.

This is the story of an orphan, brought up by a religious order that isn’t well liked or understood, who is destined to be bonded in marriage with someone outside of the order. Since the Coil is the only life she knows, the outside world is both unfamiliar and frightening. As a priestess of the Coil she regularly slit open the guts of still alive humans to foretell the future in the coils of their intestines. Her final ritual is blessed by the serpent himself who tells her that she must marry an insignificant king in a far away land in order to fulfill her destiny. Terrified but obedient, she travels to Escator, negotiates a marriage contract and begins her new life as the Queen of Escator. Unfortunately for the newlyweds, an ancient evil in a far southern land has found a way to influence people enough to arrange the world into something he can work with and eventually escape his hated prison. While the myriad characters and gods we follow through the story are attempting to keep him safely contained.

I cannot pretend to have overly enjoyed this book. I found it dull and plodding with flat characters that were not interesting at all. From the overly gruesome opening scene…

Chapter 1, paragraph 3: “The foul liquid of rotting cadavers streaked her face and arms. For many days now the girl had crept about the house, seeking out the bodies of her parents (almost unrecognizable, four weeks after their death), rubbing the stinking, viscous liquid that had leaked from their flesh over her body, sucking it from her fingers.”

…to the anticlimactic ending, there were no really enjoyable moments. With the machinations of the gods that seemed implausible; the mishmash of old and new characters to the complete turnaround in character personalities, I could not find any one character to relate to or create a bond with. Thus I had a story I didn’t care about full of characters that in turn annoyed and bored me. Here’s an excerpt from the opening scene:

I apologize for anyone looking for a fully critical critique of the book but since I disliked it enough to immediately put it in another room when I was finished with it and repeatedly postpone my write up of it and refuse to carry it along to verify names and other miscellanea while finally writing it, my critiquing processes have clearly shut down. The only thing I can really say about the book is that I got the feeling as if she felt like combining all of these old used elements to create a completely new book because she did not have any new ideas and the publisher kept calling. Unfortunately, it wound up very much like the casserole mom used to make out of leftovers and oddments when we couldn’t afford to go to the grocery store; rather unsavory and unpleasant to get through.

Wow, I just took a big one for the team. I was given a free copy of The Younger Gods by David & Leigh Eddings, and being the nice reviewer that I am, gave it a chance. I have not (and never ever ever ever will) read the three books prior to this one, but what I know of David Eddings' other work (The Belgariad and The Mallorean) convinced me that there was really no need to delve deeper than the current book. And I was right; the entire series is summarized within the first few chapters, simple as that.

First...you ever have one of those friends that tells the longest jokes ever? And then after the hour of setup and the fumbling over the punchline, it's not even funny. Something to do with a bar fight or a sober hooker or a leprechaun. Well, that's The Younger Gods for you, one long story that is only leading up to one stupid revelation that is not cool or awesome or anything other than clichéd and expected. Generally with those kinds of friends, one just nods their head until it's over and then say, "Oh, that's great," and walk away, searching for anyone better to chat with.

The plot, if that's what this is, goes as follows: the Vlagh, an evil goddess of sorts, is planning one final attack against the Elder and Younger Gods, throwing all her ghastly bug-people into the fight. The Younger Gods are building their defenses all while trying to watch over Aracia, a goddess who is going insane. The entire land of Dhrall is in peril if…yawn…even that put me to sleep. Oh, and there's some ineffective subplot about stealing things from a temple.

The writing is so sparse and uneventful that it's annoying. Here I am, book pressed into my face, searching for anything to entertain me—a funny quip, some action, honest-to-goodness character development, maybe a talking sword. Alas, nothing. Just flat characters conversing about nothing interesting at all, all of them going through the motions that they are supposed to be going through. No one argues, no one says, "I don't want to build a fort!" or "I'd like something to eat other than beans!", no one does anything at all. Except what they're told to do, which is boring. It's like telling someone to photocopy a thousand TPS reports and then watching them do it, for eight hours a day.

At one point three different characters (two male, one female) all "smiled with a broad grin." Seriously? There's a lot of repetitive things going on within; some are scenes, some are bits of dialogue, but most of them are in the description. Come on, with two (two!) authors that is not an excuse. Maybe their eyesight is failing.

There are a lot of characters, but none of them are clear. They are just names (or nicknames) and that's it. I soon became confused over who was a god, who wasn't, and why they were in the war at all. I'm almost positive that George R.R. Martin wrote better than this drivel by the time he was four years old; for a good example of how to handle multiple characters in an epic series, see A Game of Thrones.

So, what have we learned from all of this? The Eddings team can and will continue to put out boring, drawn out, fantasy series of epic proportions. They will continue to get less-than-stellar reviews. Fans will continue to be disappointed. The world will continue to spin. I will go and fetch my shovel in preparation for when their next series comes out, just in case anyone wants to tell me how awesome that final battle was. I will swing like a girl, but I will still hit you in the face. And that's how it'll all be...

---

I really shouldn’t have read Battlestar Galactica: Rebellion by Alan Rodgers and Richard Hatch, but after falling in love with the updated series during a weekend romp through the Season One DVD, my interest was sparked. I found the book in my local library, and taking a chance on the Lords of Kobol, I promptly checked it out. What a fracking mistake.

The storyline follows members of the Galactica as they narrowly escape the shots of a host of Cylons to disappear into an unknown decipherable section of the galaxy—an inescapable void of sorts. Food, fuel, and medical supplies are diminishing quickly; a rebellion is forming amongst the people, and only Apollo, with some unexpected allies, can save the fleet from destroying itself.

This sounds pretty good as a back cover blurb, but when the book takes nearly one hundred and fifty pages for the story start it’s a horrible experience—especially when the book is only three hundred pages. For the first half of the book nothing happens. Apollo talks to people, other people talk to people, those people find Apollo and talk to him, some person gets mad and talks about it, Apollo talks some more, something kind of happens but not really, and people talk about it. It was a real struggle to finish the book.

One interesting point is that this book should not be read after watching the new show; the men from the original series that were turned into women for the new one remain the men that they were in Battlestar Galactica: Rebellion. It makes for confusing reading when you keep picturing the talking heads as different genders.

I’m not quite sure which author is to truly blame for this literature atrocity, but my guess would be Hatch. As Apollo on the original series and a builder of the Battlestar Galactica world, he would seem likely to have the most influence on the books. So why, then, why would he have the pages filled with just talking heads? Why would he introduce a bunch of characters, but give them no characterization? Why would he wait until the last twenty pages of Battlestar Galactica: Rebellion to have the Cylons arrive to fight? It makes no sense at all.

The writing is laden with typos, bad dialogue, and horrible point of views. The authors switch to the villain's perspective during the last portion of the book after never entering it at any prior time. It was pointless and had no reason to happen; I would have liked the story to just focus on Apollo's actions.

This book is for hardcore fans of the original show, and that’s all. There is nothing fun about it, no cool scenes or twists to tell a friend about, nothing to reflect on—like the Galactica crew members’ surroundings, Battlestar Galactica: Rebellion is encompassed by nothing but empty space.

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Silverfall is a novel set in the Faerun setting of the Forgotten Realms line written by the creator of the setting Ed Greenwood. Not including the prologue, Silverfall is segmented into seven sections each dedicated to a member of one of the most famous families in 'Forgotten Realms'. Both to fans and in terms of their notoriety in Faerun , the Seven Sisters, Dove Falconhand, Storm Silverhand (the Bard of Shadowdale), Qilue Veladorn (who is also a Drow) Laeral Silverhand Arunsun (the Lady of Waterdeep), Alustriel (the Lady of Silverymoon) Sylune (the Witch of Shadowale, who is also a ghost), and Alassra Silverhand (the Witch Queen of Aglarond), also known as The Simbul , all Chosen of Mystra, need no introduction to fan of Realms.

I picked up Silverfall recently as it was my desire to read a novel pertaining to the Chosen, and this one seemingly appeared to be a good choice. First, even though it is separated into seven sections, and although each of these sections focuses on one of the individual Seven Sisters, in truth it really is just one story, and not seven separate novellas, The storylines directly pick up after each previous segment in Silverfall, as one by one the sisters investigate a wide range of suspicious activity, by various usually unrelated groups, all tied into a far reaching plot. Which really is where my problem with Silverfall stems from…Plot. After reading Silverfall, no less than twice in 3 days, I simply haven’t been able to discern anything from my reading that remotely resembles a reasonable or satisfying plot. I have a tremendous respect for Mr. Greenwood, as one of the great creators in the shared-world genre and his often over looked contributions (I speak in particular of readers that tend to favor some of the works I do) to the industry of fantasy, however I must admit laboring on finding anything I liked about Silverfall. A brief run down by each “novella” may illustrate better my thoughts on the novel. The first segment, and the beginning of this story centers around Dove, who is approached by the Mirt and told of unusual activity in Scornubel, more specifically a Drow infestation, Drow posing and taking the guise of the residence of the city. A simple enough story, Dove, investigates, in doing so going through a rather long battle scene, one of many I suppose are in homage of the Chosen in he novel, as Dove basically out classes all the attackers, of which only one of them is a name given to for the reader to identify with. At this point, I was still under the impression each “novella” was a separate story so I was not displeased yet, until the end Dove’s arc where after absolutely routing the Drow, she notices a magic dead knife imbedded in one of the slain Drow, and suddenly at this point, the situation is to much for her to handle and she enlists the aid of her sister Qilue, who being a Drow herself, I suppose naturally was a good choice, thus begins the second ‘novella”, in which Qilue does exactly the same thing Dove did, disguise herself and investigate, which led like in the last segment lead to an exhibition of the power of the Chosen, in which she laid waste to some more Drow, and her investigations led her to Water Deep where conveniently another of the sisters makes their abode. Qilue found in her investigation that the happenings that was first found in Scornubuel led her to the some affluent members of Water Deep. After Qilue explains her findings to her sister Laeral they of course both decide to continue the investigation, where yet another display of Chosen power is exhibited again ambushed by Drow. After again routing their attackers, Laeral continues the investigation alone, as suddenly Qilue must leave her reasoning simply being, and I quote:

Thanks a lot Sis! Now that Laeral is own her own, she continues the trend of disguising herself to investigate further, which at the end of which leads her to be ambushed in her own spell chambers by a spell trap and is thus eliminated from the investigation waiting for her husband Khelben to shape her a body, thus she calls on her sister Alustriel of Silverymoon. Alustriel is investigating the murder of a merchant in Silveymoon, when she is contacted by Lareal, who fills her in on her investigation thus far, and it just so happens one of the men last seen with victim of the murder in Silverymoon shares the name with one of the men Lareal was looking for. Allustriel confronts the man, Auvran Labaster, only to find herself in a battle with a group of Red Wizards, where, yes you guessed it another exhibition of the power of the Chosen is shown...noticing a trend yet? The stories are just recycled over and over, and the only one that really woke me up from my doze was the sixth story involving the Simbul, the only “novella”, that although offering the same as the other installments, actually was entertaining in regards to the depiction of the mage duels. I can’t even begin to explain what the conclusion of Silverfall implies, as I truly am at a personal loss myself.

Positives? Well there are a lot of popular characters sprinkled throughout Silverfall, excluding the Seven Sisters, Forgotten Realms fans will see appearances of the likes of Elminister, Halaster, Khelben, Elaith Craulnober and many more. However these characters are rushed in and out, seemingly almost just to be included in the novel. The nature of their appearances didn’t strike me during my reading as welcomed appearances of characters I know, but rather seemed unnecessary and forced. At only one time in my reading did I encounter anything that resembled a relationship between the sisters in their conversation that would seem normal of sisters who do not often see one another as told in the text, which occurred between Laeral and Qilue when they were discussing a play and Qilue found out Laeral was actually a reviewer she reads, under the alias of One-Eyed Jack. If Lareal were reviewing Silverfall she would be appalled.

In ending the only people I could possibly recommend Silverfall to are the most loyal of fans of 'Forgotten Realms' or of Mr. Greenwoods. I greatly enjoyed my last reading in 'Forgotten Realms' by Paul S. Kemp (Ervis Cale trilogy), but Silverfall simply didn’t deliver for me on any level, especially considering it’s penned by Mr. Greenwood. Silverfall seems nothing more than a platform to display examples of the Seven Sisters, glorifying them in battle, giving little thought for those of us that require a plot in our reading. Silverfall simply left a lot to be desired for me personally, in regards to plot, pacing, the blandness in characterization and dialogue, and a deliberate, almost seemingly incessant desire to write about the Chosen either in scant apparel or none at all (which is not a problem for me in principle, but occurred so much without purpose it’s impossible not to mention in review). Silverfall is just simply awful. I look forward to Mr. Greenwood's next work, a project in collaboration with Elaine Cunningham, however until than Silverfall was simply not an enjoyable read for me at all, and at times unreadable my final rating for Silverfall is a 2 - and I fear I still could be blamed for overating it.

Jay
The Bodhisattva

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