Lavie Tidhar

I’d say the last thing the Matter of Britain needs is another interpretation, but King Arthur has been reinvented a number of times, and it does seem somewhat fitting given the nature of the myth – a hero for a time when he’s needed. Except, of course, most retellings of the Matter of Britain aren’t actually about the time of the retelling, and are usually no more than badly-faked historical stories distorted by the lens of the present. Which is also true of By Force Alone. But here show more it’s deliberate, very much so. In typical Tidhar fashion, By Force Alone makes heavy play with present-day cultural references. Arthur’s early years, and the formation of the Round Table, read like a cross between The Sopranos and a Guy Ritchie movie. But, Tidhar being a genre author, the novel features a weird mix of fantasy and science fiction tropes. It’s very much a book of two halves; and in the second half, a meteor impacts in Scotland, thought by all to be a dragon, and the area around the impact site is heavily poisoned, but also generates strange magical effects. Tidhar manages to graft the Grail Quest onto this, including rivalry among the Fae over the champions they have chosen. By Force Alone hits the main beats of the legend, but it’s a singular interpretation of it, one which, unlike most Matter of Britain stories, neither romanticises nor valorises Arthur and his knights, nor presents them as avatars of English exceptionalism (they weren’t, of course, English; assuming they ever existed, that is). I didn’t need another spin on King Arthur, but Tidhar delivered one and I find myself glad he did. If there’s any justice, this novel will kill the Arthuriana genre stone dead. And Guy Ritchie’s career. show less

this is a series that owes a whole lot of its soul to fantasy writer Cordwainer Smith, but also to the chaos nanopunk sf of Rudy Rucker; the result is an unlikely but wonderful combination, perfectly realized. it's the same general Middle Eastern location on Earth as Tidhar's earlier work Central Station, in the desert corners of a far future universe of intermingling humans, AI robots, and Others, near a space station that connects to the settlements of the Solar System and beyond. and it's show more full of endlessly fascinating details (there's even a glossary). may there be many more like this, before he's done. show less

I’m always happy to see another of these Apex World SF volumes. This one is full of stories by authors from all over the world, and while it’s not as difficult to find international science fiction now as it was when the first volume was published, it’s still great to find so many varied and high quality stories in one place. One of my favourites from the book is the opening story, A Series of Steaks by Vina Jie-Min Prasad, set in a future world with a main character who forges show more expensive cuts of meat using bioprinting. I also really liked the closing story, Ugo by Giovanni De Feo, about a relationship between a woman and a man who apparently has memories of future events. It has an ending that leaves various interpretations of what happened possible, but it’s an ambiguity that worked well for me. And talking of ambiguity, Verdana Singh’s Ambiguity Machines: An Examination makes another appearance here, the only story I’d read previously after enjoying her collection last year. The rest of the stories are varied, ranging from science fiction to fantasy, and while I enjoyed some more than others, overall it was a really good read, and I’m already looking forward to any future volumes Apex release. show less

Lavie Tidhar gives good setting. His descriptions of a Steampunk Victorian Age, ruled by Lizards, populated with historical and literary minor characters— Sherlock Holmes and his gang, a Lizard Queen Victoria, a nicely creepy Dr. Frankenstein — it’s all done very well. Totally enjoyable.

But does he write good story? Kinda. In The Bookman, the poet Orphan finds himself at the center of a vast conspiracy and is dragged all around the globe, beat up, and almost killed, numerous times. In show more Camera Obscura, the main difference seems to be that it is a woman, Milady, who is beat up, conspired against, etc.

Well ok, there is a second difference. Milady is also supposed to be a police woman, carrying a big gun and intimidating all of the criminals in Paris— unlike our somewhat nebbish everyman, Orphan.

But Milady, she is a badass with a big gun from the page one. She’s not drawn into conspiracy, she’s a conspirator! Employed by the Quiet Council, the shady cabal of automatons ruling France, Milady just swaggers all over town, covering up crimes, collecting clues, fingering her gun in menacing ways… Once the story gets going, however, Milady starts to get beat up, a lot.

And every time she is conspired against, beat on, horrifyingly tortured, etc., not only was I reminded a little too closely of Orphan’s woes, but I also started to doubt her verisimilitude as originally described. Her truthfulness as a person began to ring false the worse the story treated her.

I’m all for the noir style beat down of the protagonist. Bring em low, I say! Bring em down to my filthy, violent level!

…But by every villain that shows up? With every new twist of the plot? All the while also telling me just how tough and smart she is, always hinting at some dark past filled with clever and crafty misdeeds? In a fantasy England populated by walking and talking man-sized lizards, whales that roam the Thames, and a real, live Captain Nemo? It’s one unbelievable thing too many.

I give the Bookman three stars for being inventive and fun. Camera Obscura, however, gets two. Don’t piss on my leg (or beat up your so-called tough female heroine until she is unrecognizable) and tell me it’s raining. And seriously? Don’t make me read the same book twice. show less