Kevin J. Anderson

This was a trainwreck. I should have known better. I should have seen that name on the cover and walked away.

I love Rush. I love everything about Rush. Three insanely talented musicians, and one of them also the talented wordsmith behind the brilliant, insightful, incisive lyrics. I'd hoped this collection would be a testament to the creativity of Neil Peart.

Instead, it was an exercise in bloated, dull storytelling, usually with a SF bent. Now, yes, Peart often went in an SF direction for show more his songs...but more often, especially from the latter two-thirds of the Rush catalogue, he more examined the human condition, without the SF trappings.

Many of these stories honestly felt as though they'd been pre-written, then a couple of Rush lyrics were shoehorned in to make it fit to the anthology concept. Some very obviously came directly from the songs, but twisted the intent of the song so far out of true as to be virtually unrecognizable. I'll be honest, the only story that held any interest was "A Nice Morning Drive" simply due to its place in history for inspiring "Red Barchetta".

And the less said about the Fritz Lieber story that inspired "Roll The Bones" the better. While it may have inspired the song, it was so blatantly racist I was shocked at its inclusion.

I'd had high hopes for a good anthology inspired by one of Canada's best, but with KJA at the helm, I really should have known better. If this anthology serves any purpose, it's to show what a brilliant writer Peart was.

Never again. show less

I should like this book. I love Rush, and I love the album that serves as the inspiration to this novel. So really, I should like this book. But I truly don't. It's horrible.

I've read (more than) enough Kevin J. Anderson to know he's a prolific, and terrifically lazy writer. He gets the job done, like a Big Mac will quench hunger, but it's all empty calories.

In this story, the protagonist, Owen Hardy, essentially gets led by the nose through all of the areas that were conveniently laid out show more at the beginning of the book. Crown City, the circus, on a supply ship, on an airship, and even strolls around the Seven Cities that no one up to that point have been able to even find. Through it all, he comes to learn he needs to be content, that home is where the heart is, or some other boring soundbite.

Don't get me wrong, there were a few moments of brilliance. The disappearing bookstore, the implication of other worlds, the Asimov/Foundation-like ability to predict behaviours, even the Seven Cities, had they not been mishandled so badly.

The problem was, instead of exploring any of these fascinating concepts, they were tiny jewels lobbed out into the vast wasteland of sand. Instead of capturing our attention, we were treated to a travelogue where nothing really exciting happened. Want an example? Owen was hungry, he offered to sweep a baker's floor. When he was done, the baker refused to pay him. So--dun dun DUNNNN! -Owen stole a pie! Gripping stuff, that.

As well, it felt as though Anderson threw in specific scenes simply to get a reference to a Rush lyric or reference to fit. Instead of stating that a tightrope walker performed with grace, he had to state she performed with grace under pressure. Instead of indicating that Owen decided to go his own way, he stated that his choice was to not make a choice, that he chose free will.

Come on. Write me a novel, not a game of find the Rush reference.

Reading Neil Peart's notes at the end, I saw that this book had a lot of its origins in some rather lofty, classic literature.

Then again, I consider the original Frank Herbert Dune series to be lofty, classic literature and Anderson, along with Herbert's son, took that and crapped all over it, so really, why would Anderson change his method now.

Beautiful book to look at. Great companion album to listen to. Terrible story. show less

I will be fair to Brian and Kevin and say that this series is definitely better than most of the other McDune books they've written. It seems that the further you go into the past, the better the books are. Hunters/Sandworms was a utter abomination that should have never been put to paper, the Heroes series was unneccessary dreck, and the House trilogy, while not a completely horrible read into itself, was unneccessary as part of the Dune series and would have been better off if it was its show more own original series with original characters.

This leaves us the far-in-the-past prequels - the Butlerian Jihad trilogy and this series. This series, like the House trilogy, would have been better off as an original series set in a universe that Brian and Kevin created by themselves. This Schools series is a continuation of the Butlerian Jihad trilogy, about the early days of the Duneverse.

Except... this is not Frank Herbert's lovingly-crafted Duneverse. It's some... cheap, twisted, McDonald's version of it. Brian and Kevin have thus far penned what... a dozen McDune books by this point? When a ghostwriter (technically this doesn't fit Brian and Kevin since they're using their own names - thank Shai-hulud for small favors, but I can't think of a better word at the moment) writes more books than the original author, then it's definitely time to put the pen (or keyboard) down and walk away.

The Butlerian Jihad series and this one would work much better if it was completely original, set in a universe created by Brian and Kevin, with some good editing. And this book is DEFINITELY better than Dune 7 and the Heroes books, only because there's less of the original Dune to contradict, as this series is set over 10,000 years before Frank Herbet's Dune.

However, this book still only merits 1 star because it manages to have many contradictions and illogicalities. Look, Brian and Kevin aren't Frank Herbert, and I certainly don't expect them to write exactly the same as FH, or have his depth, but some parts of this book are downright ridiculous and embarrassing. Brian and Kevin simply do not have the talent to come anywhere close to Frank Herbert, nor do they show any amount of respect and care for the legacy that they're "adding" to. They don't bother to keep track of established canon or facts set in FH's Duneverse (as woefully illustrated by the Heroes of Dune and Dune 7 books) and this results in some WTF moments in this book regarding the Bene Gesserit (Valya Harkonnen and Raquella) the Mentats (ALbans isn't as smart as he is supposed to be) and even the Fremen (WTF is this I don't even...)

Frank Herbert's Dune was filled with meaning and hidden messages, meant to provoke our minds. The Dune that Brian and Kevin write is no more than badly-written fanfiction with characters who don't understand what they're doing or why they do it. Honestly, the level of sophistication in this book reminds me of Gloria Tesch's Maradonia books (and no, that is not a good thing!!!)

It was a real chore to slog through this, rarely do I come across a book where I literally have to force myself to turn the page to finish the book. show less

Tales of the Jedi is a series I've known and wondered about ever since I became a serious Star Wars fan, a mysterious and unknowable marker early on chronologies. Now, thanks to Dark Horse's exhaustive Omnibus program, I've gotten a chance to read it. This book collects four stories.

The first two, "The Golden Age of the Sith" and "The Fall of the Sith Empire," take place 5,000 years before the films. They're not great-- thin characters with flimsy motivations act out enormous events. Okay, show more so that's Star Wars in a nutshell, but these stories lack style and fun. I did like the Hutt with a hat (anyone who knows me could have seen this coming), and I'll admit the final battle was suitably epic. But the protagonists, who seem to be aiming at Luke Skywalker redux, are far more whiny and far less interesting than he ever was. I really liked the visual aesthetic of the stories, though; making the Old Republic look cod-Egyptian during this time might be a cheap trick, but it works.

Then we jump a thousand years with "Ulic Qel-Droma and the Beast Wars of Onderon," which is okay. I feel like I'm supposed to like Ulic more than I do. He's kind of a jerk. And so is his master, Arca Jeth, for sending him off on his own, untested. Seeing how he'll fare is a flimsy motivation when lives are at stake!

Finally, though, is "The Saga of Nomi Sunrider." Now this is more like it! It feels like an ancient legend come to life, something out of the Grail mythos. Nomi is the wife of a Jedi who sees her husband gunned down in front of her and must learn  to become a Jedi herself... except she doesn't want to ever pick up a lightsaber. It's an atmospheric tale by Tom Veitch, Janine Johnston, and David Roach, about grief, regret, and violence, with well-used bits of weirdness. Just a perfect little slice of storytelling.

One thing I do really like about both of the last two tales: that they're not about Jedi caught up in big, galactic events, but Jedi who serve as peacekeepers, reclusive mystics, and what have you. These are stories on a local scale, but no less important for it. When I imagine the Jedi Knights of the Old Republic, this is what I like to imagine-- a more civilized age. show less