“Fiddle-de-dee’s not English.”

Starcross: A Stirring Tale of British Vim upon the Seas of Space and Time! by Philip Reeve
Illustrated by David Wyatt
Bloomsbury Publishing PLC (2007)
380 pages

Oh, this left me giggling almost the whole way. Maybe it’s because the last few books I had read before it were so serious, and it was a relief to read about the more light-hearted adventures of Art and Myrtle. I loved the narrative here as much as I loved it in Larklight, and that’s saying something because stuff in the first person often rubs me the wrong way.

My copy had three lines of titles (Starcross or The Coming of the Moobs! or Our Adventures in the Fourth Dimension — A Stirring Tale of British Vim upon the Seas of Space and Time!) and I had grinned just looking at those. What other narrator could be as droll as Art? And who else would ever use the word “amanuensis” on a title page of a book? I love the title pages and the ads on the inside covers and the chapter titles — I spent a lot of time on both Larklight and Starcross studying those inside covers and the illustrations and having a laugh over them.

As for the story itself, I enjoyed Starcross better than Larklight, though I think the story was stronger in Larklight. In this instalment, we find Art and Myrtle and their mother visiting the hotel Starcross, where strange things are happening. Some old friends make a reappearance . . . and disappear in forms you won’t expect them in. The family vacation ends up with Art and Myrtle having to save the universe. (Again.)

The patriotism and the Victorian sensibilities were absurd and relevant and fun at the same time. I love Myrtle best when she forgets to be “sensible”, and her decision at the end made me cheer. I spent some time reading this book sputtering at Jack. Pirate or not, you better learn how to treat a your lady, young man! And I wonder how Art could be so smart and yet so dense when it comes to Jack/Myrtle. The footnote about how Jack must be using How to Write Love Letters: A Guide for the Perplexed to prop a wobbly table sent me choking with laughter. The joys of being young.

There will be a sequel to this, obviously. I have reliable sources saying that the sequel, Mothstorm, will be out this year. One does not leave his readers gaping at a pirate’s behaviour towards his lady friend, when said lady friend has declared Ambitions of her own. How could you leave us with such a cliffhanger, Mr Reeve!

Black Powder War by Naomi Novik
Del Rey (2006)
400 pages (?)

I have a text document always open on my computer. I jot things down in that file, and this includes quick impressions of some of the books I read. For Black Powder War, there’s this line: Granby! Hearts for Granby!

Um.

As you may have guessed, I really like John Granby — putting aside Will Laurence and Temeraire, I think Granby certainly got the best deal when it comes to Novik and characterisation — she has done a splendid job with his character development. And I loved this book — I think the series gets better and better with each instalment, and this one takes us to so many different places and I enjoyed reading about the differences between each culture. (Is it wrong that when I think of this book, certain images from it gets mixed with Dorothy Dunnett’s Pawn in Frankincense, thanks to the latter’s glittering Istanbul and the introduction to a myriad of cultures? The books are not really comparable, and aside from the fact that some scenes take place at similar locations there’s no real similarity. I suppose this just means I should write these things sooner instead of stalling and mixing things up.)

Well. In short: Laurence and Temeraire journey overland from China to the Ottoman Empire!

This instalment has more action than the previous two. I find this exciting! And politics, of course, and people dying, which sort of makes me curdle inside, but that’s what happens when you read a book set in a middle of a war, I suppose. Temeraire’s grown into himself, and his care for Laurence would warm anyone’s heart, yet he still has that naivety that just makes you laugh. And he really cares for his crew. Good old Temeraire.

Novik does have this love affair going on with colons and semicolons, though. Some of the sentences got rather long and unwieldy and made me a bit cross-eyed trying to locate the start of the sentence and connecting it with the end. It doesn’t detract much, though it would have made easier reading if the sentences were shortened.

And because I want to talk about details, the rest of this entry contains spoilers!

Continue reading Black Powder War by Naomi Novik »

Throne of Jade by Naomi Novik
Del Rey (2006)
432 pages

The problem with trying to write these things for books in a series is the immediate need for me to put everything under a cut a declare everything below as a spoiler. Seriously. I because I don’t want people to be spoiled about what happens in the first book, Temeraire/His Majesty’s Dragon, and it leaves me wondering just how much I should mention about the next book to save everyone from grief.

In short: Laurence and Temeraire go to China!

For the long version, I’ll just spoiler-cut the whole thing, because spoilers are not cool.

Continue reading Throne of Jade by Naomi Novik »

Temeraire by Naomi Novik
HarperVoyager (2007)
342 pages

In short: it’s the Napoleonic Wars, except this time around there are dragons!

(Why the different titles for the British/American editions? The American version is called His Majesty’s Dragon.)

I’ve always loved dragons. The first time I heard the buzz about this book I went a little hyper and flailed around for a bit while I waited for it to appear in our local bookstore and wondered why no one ever came up with something like this before. After I bought the book, though, it lay in my to be read pile for such a long time despite the many times I tried picking it up.

I blame the back cover blurb. Oh, say what you want about not judging a book by its cover — it really doesn’t matter because you still do it anyway. (Is judging it by its back cover worse than judging it by its front cover, I wonder. I do so love this edition’s design.) But seriously. Let me see if I can find the offending sentence . . . here: “But when the newly-hatched [why the hyphen, idly asks the editor in me, though that's not the deal breaker] dragon decides to imprint itself on Laurence, the horrified captain’s world falls apart.”

Why, I thought sadly, Will Laurence doesn’t like dragons. This cannot mean well. And so I kept stalling — I kept picking the book up and putting it back down. It’s a very random reason not to start reading a book, really, but the very idea that the man who’ll be, according to this same blurb, “the constant companion and trainer” of the dragon not liking it just made me huffy. And I knew nothing at all about the rest of the story at this point. I have a very strange attachment to dragons, really. I think the people who kept nudging me to read the series must be gaping at the absurd excuse. (Imagine now how much I hate that fellow who actually mistreats his dragon in the book.)

All that aside: yes, I did love the book when I finally read it. The book starts at the tail end (ha!) of a fight between the Reliant, of which Will Laurence is the captain, and the French ship the Amitié which has just been captured. There’s a dragon egg on board of the captured ship, and to shorten things, let’s just say it hatches and the dragon — named Temeraire by Laurence — takes a liking to Laurence and Laurence actually likes him back (in a, uh, good dragon–human relationshippy way the dragons and the humans are supposed to be getting along in these books, that’s what I mean) and they have a lot of adventures. Good ones.

I’m no expert on the time period — Napoleonic Wars: did we even cover that in world history? — so I can’t say how faithful of not Novik is to the setting (with dragons or without), but it certainly feels real to me. I love the world she’s created, and the social commentary-ish parts she slips in.

And the characters! Oh man. I kept treading warily around Laurence at the start. It’s probably because of the way he speaks — he’s so formal and careful. A bit like the narrative itself, I guess. Then he calls Temeraire “my dear” and I melted into a puddle. The interaction between humans and dragons were wonderfully done; not just Laurence and Temeraire, but the other characters as well. That’s probably the best thing in the book, even with all the swashbuckling and the nifty moves.

I read Temeraire in February 2008. I’ve since read both Throne of Jade and Black Powder War, and the simple verdict is ♥. (The library doesn’t have a copy of Empire of Ivory yet.) I’d read whatever else Naomi Novik will write in a heartbeat, yes.

The Ladies of Grace Adieu and other stories by Susanna Clarke
Illustrated by Charles Vess
Bloomsbury Publishing PLC (2007)
235 pages

My first — and perhaps only — complaint about The Ladies of Grace Adieu and other stories is it is too short. Especially after the thickness of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell — that one was heavy enough to use as a blunt weapon.

I enjoyed Jonathan Strange though it took me ages to get into the book. It was probably because I had trouble getting used to the prose. I remember complaining to Justine on how I was not managing to make any progress reading the book. It probably took something close to a third of the book before I got absorbed into the story and the pages went flying by. I couldn’t put it down until I got to the end.

This isn’t a problem with The Ladies of Grace Adieu, thankfully. The stories are short, more whimsical than Jonathan Strange, and I enjoyed them immensely. Some of them may sound familiar, almost like retellings of folktales and some draw upon historical characters, like Mary, Queen of Scots, and Duke Wellington.

Eight short stories grace this book (and an introduction that I believe is fictional — it has to be . . . right?) and while some are stronger than others, I can’t say that I found one that I didn’t like. The title story takes place in the same world of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell . . . Jonathan Strange even makes an appearance in the story. The second story, On Lickerish Hill, made me flounder a bit, mainly because of the deliberate misspellings used in it. But then I got to this line: “Sir John Sowreston is two-and-thirty years of age; size, middling; eyes, black; legges, handsome.” and it made me snort with startled laughter and all was right with the story.

Mrs Mabb is one of my favourites, in which a young lady tries to get back her young man who’s in the clutches of the fairy queen. The Duke of Wellington Misplaces His Horse is a story set in Neil Gaiman’s Stardust’s village of Wall, a lighthearted interlude, almost. Mr Simonelli or The Fairy Widower, probably the longest story of the lot, is about a local rector matching wits against a fairy lord, and, in my opinion, the best story this collection holds. I still can’t make up my mind whether the ending is hilarious or tragic.

Tom Brightwind or How the Fairy Bridge was Built at Thoresby is a bit predictable, but the characters were fun and witty and funny. Antickes and Frets befuddled me for quite a bit, possibly because I have very little idea who Mary, Queen of Scots is, and why she wants revenge on the Queen Elizabeth of England. Thank goodness for Wikipedia. (I know, I know. My history needs some polishing.) I really liked the last story, John Uskglass and the Cumbrian Charcoal Burner, as well. It’s one of those stories where the lowly peasant outwits a king, except this time there are saints and fairies.

This is a witty, almost whimsical collection of short stories that I had enjoyed reading very much. The prose is flawless, and the illusions by Charles Vess are beautiful and complement the stories perfectly, both in style and sense. And I love the cover.

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This book was also read in conjunction with Renay’s speculative fiction reading challenge!

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