Anansi Boys

Fat Charlie Nancy hasn't seen his dad in years, and that's just how he likes it. It was his dad who named him 'Fat' Charlie, a nickname that has never gone away. When his fiancee insists on a family reunion for the wedding, however, he learns that his father is dead, that he has a brother, and that his father was Anansi, the Spider God. Soon, his brother Spider is in his life and living it better than he ever has, and Fat Charlie discovers what lengths he will - and will not - go to to get shot of embarrassing family.

A sort-of-not-a sequel to the vast epic of American Gods, and possibly taking place in the same fictional universe (or not) Anansi Boys is a lighter and more intimate affair, focusing on the West African trickster Anansi; or more accurately, on his two sons, Charles and Spider. It begins as an Anglo-American comedy of manners, before evolving into a white collar crime thriller, then a manhunt, and finally a cosmic struggle for the lives of the brothers and, in all probability, the soul and essential narrative of all humanity. The fact that this progression isn't utterly ludicrous should be praise enough.

Where Gods focused on the interface between Americana, technology and religion, the mythology of Anansi Boys is more straightforward. Anansi is a god, as are his sons, and all in all they just are what they are, even at the start of the book when Fat Charlie solely embodies the aspect of Anansi who suffers the karmic backlash of his many tricks. Whereas American Gods is about what humanity does for its gods, Anansi Boys is very much about what gods do for humanity, and what humans can do for each other, as the non-divine characters are far from unimportant.

The audiobook is read by Lenny Henry, which is both a good thing - because he is very good - and perhaps a bad, since he already defines Afro-Caribbean culture for so many Britons. Regardless of the socio-cultural ramifications, the reading is excellent, with clear voices for all of the characters, from the nasal and obsequious Graham Coats to the George Sanders purr of his murderous counterpart Tiger.

The Extraordinary and Unusual Adventures of Horatio Lyle

It is the height and heart of the Industrial Revolution, Victorian London, a city of iron and steam. Horatio Lyle, inventor, detective, special constable and unwilling dog lover, is the embodiment of the brave new world, and as such is called in by Lord Lincoln, aide to Her Majesty herself, when a cultural treasure is stolen. Aided by Thomas, a young gentleman with a connection to the case, and Tess, a girl whom he caught breaking into his house, and Tate, the canine who long ago insinuated himself into his home, Lyle will find his scientific rationality tested by confrontations with things that man was, perhaps, not strictly supposed to wot of.

A Victorian urban fantasy with elements of steampunk in Lyle's advanced use of roughly contemporary science, The Extraordinary and Unusual Adventures of Horatio Lyle certainly features and unusual cast of characters. Lyle is a skilled observer and inventor, but is physically weak and afraid of heights, while his more robust young cohorts lack social polish and education in the one case and experience of the real world in the other. The plot is a pretty breakneck affair, and there were points where I could have stood a bit of a breather, but I certainly never found it dragging.

Stardust

"There was once a young man who wished to gain his heart's desire."

When a novel opens with the kind of line that you just know is going to appear at the top of just about every review or description written of it, you know that you have something special. So begins this review, and so begins the tale of Tristran Thorn in Neil Gaiman's Stardust. It seems almost disingenuous to go into the details of a book that is, if not universally acclaimed, then certainly pretty well loved and certainly known by most of the people likely to be reading this blog. The book has been out for years and I own three copies (original UK paperback, Charles Vess illustrated paperback and now Kindle,) so it's not exactly new to me, but there's a virtue all its own to a book you can reread time and again.

The most important, and perhaps most controversial thing I have to say about the book is that I like it better than the film. I like the low key, bittersweet ending and the fact that the girl Tristran runs off to fetch a star for isn't a worthless, preening snob. I adore the way the book wraps magic around old tales and rhymes far more than the film's Babylon Candle, and the inextricable blending of love and loss speaks to me in a way that the films genuine ever-after never has done.

But then I'm the kind of guy who likes the original ending of The Little Mermaid better, although truth to tell my own preferred version is the one where she shivs the prince for being a dick ('Oh, hey there girl who winces with every step; dance for me.')

Stardust. If you're only ever going to like one affectionate reconstruction of the fairy tale milieu, this will be the one. If you're going to like more of them, you've probably already read this.

Fire & Chasm

There are two great, primal forces in the world. The Fire is the warmth of creation, the Chasm the abyss of unmaking. All humans are given a gift by the fire, a singular magical ability that they can employ at will, unless they sacrifice that gift for the power of the many spells that can be drawn from the chasm. The Church worships the Fire, the Wizards' Guild studies the Chasm. The two clash politically all the time, but Az is the Church's weapon in a more secret war. Able to control the intoxicating power of obsidian - where fire and chasm meet - he is an assassin, a wizard killer, and an enigma even to himself.

Fire & Chasm is a fairly short YA fantasy novel with a decent bit of world building. Unfortunately, it has two major problems:

First, Az spends a lot of time bemoaning his lot, although overall he comes through lightly given how many people he has killed during the course of the narrative, including about a dozen wizards who were just trying to stop him breaking into their house in a fugue state. I guess we're supposed to forgive him because of the fugue and the horrors done to him, but in all seriousness these deaths are basically never mentioned except for their impact on the political landscape. After the immediate aftermath, they seem to prey on precisely nobody's conscience, ever. The other main characters are the wizard who made him this way, the wizard's daughter Leora, whose romance with Az has little conflict even when his fugues are revealed to her, and a cartoonishly diabolical High Priest.

The second problem is that the plot wants to be political, but the characters essentially exist within a bubble. The wider ramifications of their actions are reported, but never shown, and more importantly involve characters that we are not allowed to know and thus have little reason to care about. We never see anything of the political sphere besides the High Priest, who is a hands-on kind of guy and is never seen at court or engaged in subtle diplomacy and manoeuvring, just setting things on fire and torturing Az for shiggles.

Fire & Chasm isn't terrible, but an unengaging protagonist and an emphasis away from what feels like the more involving part of the plot mean that it fails to distinguish itself from the crowd.