An epic, vivid, and gory SF revenge tale with graphic-novel undertones.
In this SF novel, two brothers of vastly different temperaments must fight to liberate their race from merciless alien enslavers.
The peaceful, blue-furred numah are enslaved on Neos, a moon that can no longer be called a moon given the destruction of its planet by the Arbitrators, an all-powerful celestial race. Under the oversight of the physically dominant, bloodthirsty olokun, they work in the mines, digging up aegis ore to construct a giant shield in space. Some among the numah dream of rebellion. Others, like Yoto, seek merely to survive and so allow themselves to become complicit in their overlords’ cruelties. But Yoto, for all his cowardice, is destined for greater things. Though it is his heroic brother, Eon, who is singled out by the alien witch Lagaia to wield a dagger that will overthrow the olokun and maybe the Arbitrators, it is Yoto who becomes entangled with the weapon. It transforms him into a creature of gargantuan size and strength (“He drew energy from within himself and Neos”)—formidable enough, perhaps, to do battle with the vile Gen. Vega and his sadistic son, Cadoc. Can Yoto’s brutal retaliation lead to a better future, or will he cause Neos’ destruction? Viola, Acevedo, and Karpuk present an omniscient, past-tense narrative that focuses on action rather than the characters or setting—although SF elements like the olokun’s organic technology are present. The protagonists lack nuance, serving as archetypes of cowardice, heroism, and villainy. The dialogue, like the prose generally, tends to be workmanlike and aimed toward advancing the plot. The novel’s greatest strength lies in its epic nature. The authors linger over the numah’s subjugation and the olokun’s depravities, stoking readers’ desire for a turnabout. This comes amid setbacks and bloody losses playing out over hundreds of pages. The violence is extreme yet somewhat matter-of-fact in its presentation, as if begging for illustrations. (Indeed, there is a sense throughout of a story intended for adaptation into a manga or anime series.) The book is divided into six parts (plus an epilogue), each with a lurid, black-and-white frontispiece by Bendert. It concludes with full-page character pictures that emphasize the larger-than-life conflict. Fans of kaijin and kaiju media should approve.
An epic, vivid, and gory SF revenge tale with graphic-novel undertones.Pub Date: Dec. 6, 2022
ISBN: 979-8986219448
Page Count: 478
Publisher: Hex Publishers
Review Posted Online: Oct. 24, 2022
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 15, 2022
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.
Are we not men? We are—well, ask Bigfoot, as Brooks does in this delightful yarn, following on his bestseller World War Z(2006).
A zombie apocalypse is one thing. A volcanic eruption is quite another, for, as the journalist who does a framing voice-over narration for Brooks’ latest puts it, when Mount Rainier popped its cork, “it was the psychological aspect, the hyperbole-fueled hysteria that had ended up killing the most people.” Maybe, but the sasquatches whom the volcano displaced contributed to the statistics, too, if only out of self-defense. Brooks places the epicenter of the Bigfoot war in a high-tech hideaway populated by the kind of people you might find in a Jurassic Park franchise: the schmo who doesn’t know how to do much of anything but tries anyway, the well-intentioned bleeding heart, the know-it-all intellectual who turns out to know the wrong things, the immigrant with a tough backstory and an instinct for survival. Indeed, the novel does double duty as a survival manual, packed full of good advice—for instance, try not to get wounded, for “injury turns you from a giver to a taker. Taking up our resources, our time to care for you.” Brooks presents a case for making room for Bigfoot in the world while peppering his narrative with timely social criticism about bad behavior on the human side of the conflict: The explosion of Rainier might have been better forecast had the president not slashed the budget of the U.S. Geological Survey, leading to “immediate suspension of the National Volcano Early Warning System,” and there’s always someone around looking to monetize the natural disaster and the sasquatch-y onslaught that follows. Brooks is a pro at building suspense even if it plays out in some rather spectacularly yucky episodes, one involving a short spear that takes its name from “the sucking sound of pulling it out of the dead man’s heart and lungs.” Grossness aside, it puts you right there on the scene.
A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.Pub Date: June 16, 2020
ISBN: 978-1-9848-2678-7
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Del Rey/Ballantine
Review Posted Online: Feb. 9, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2020
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK TO SCREEN
Suspenseful, full of incident, and not obviously necessary.
Atwood goes back to Gilead.
The Handmaid’s Tale (1985), consistently regarded as a masterpiece of 20th-century literature, has gained new attention in recent years with the success of the Hulu series as well as fresh appreciation from readers who feel like this story has new relevance in America’s current political climate. Atwood herself has spoken about how news headlines have made her dystopian fiction seem eerily plausible, and it’s not difficult to imagine her wanting to revisit Gilead as the TV show has sped past where her narrative ended. Like the novel that preceded it, this sequel is presented as found documents—first-person accounts of life inside a misogynistic theocracy from three informants. There is Agnes Jemima, a girl who rejects the marriage her family arranges for her but still has faith in God and Gilead. There’s Daisy, who learns on her 16th birthday that her whole life has been a lie. And there's Aunt Lydia, the woman responsible for turning women into Handmaids. This approach gives readers insight into different aspects of life inside and outside Gilead, but it also leads to a book that sometimes feels overstuffed. The Handmaid’s Tale combined exquisite lyricism with a powerful sense of urgency, as if a thoughtful, perceptive woman was racing against time to give witness to her experience. That narrator hinted at more than she said; Atwood seemed to trust readers to fill in the gaps. This dynamic created an atmosphere of intimacy. However curious we might be about Gilead and the resistance operating outside that country, what we learn here is that what Atwood left unsaid in the first novel generated more horror and outrage than explicit detail can. And the more we get to know Agnes, Daisy, and Aunt Lydia, the less convincing they become. It’s hard, of course, to compete with a beloved classic, so maybe the best way to read this new book is to forget about The Handmaid’s Tale and enjoy it as an artful feminist thriller.
Suspenseful, full of incident, and not obviously necessary.Pub Date: Sept. 10, 2019
ISBN: 978-0-385-54378-1
Page Count: 432
Publisher: Nan A. Talese
Review Posted Online: Sept. 3, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2019
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
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