Category: Fantasy Page 28 of 34

The Black Cauldron (Audiobook) by Lloyd Alexander, James Langton

The Black CauldronThe Black Cauldron

by Lloyd Alexander, James Langton (Narrator)
Series: Chronicles of Prydain, #2
Unabridged Audiobook, 5 hrs, 28 min.
Listening Library, 2004

Read: March 15 – 16, 2017


Of the five books in the Chronicles, this is probably my least favorite installment, still I enjoyed reliving it with this audio. Why Disney chose this one to make a movie out of, I’ll never know (and have never seen).

Prince Gwydion has called a council at Cair Dalben — bringing warriors, royalty and others from across the land to discuss something of urgency. Taran is included as well, thanks to the Prince’s experience in the previous book. One of the attendees, Prince Ellidyr, is a young, proud twit who might as well have been named William Zabka — if he doesn’t remind you of the quintessential 80’s movie antagonist, you’re not reading him right. He and Taran clash immediately, and are predictably assigned to work together.

We also meet the son of Taliesin, the chief bard, Adaon. Adaon is one of those characters that comes out of nowhere, every character loves and so do the readers. He’s wise, kind, and probably a decent fighter. Taran is possibly more taken with him as friend and role model than he was with Gwydion — partially because he’s not a prince, and so is more approachable; but also is just that kind of guy. Thankfully, Taran and he are also assigned to work together so it’s not all about the jousting with Ellidyr.

There were other characters introduced — several actually, but those two are the ones to focus on now. I’m not going to tell you anything about Gwystyl and Kaw, because I’ll not do them justice. But you’ll enjoy both. Gurgi was Gurgi, and Eilonwy was perfect — seriously just perfect. I always liked the character, but maybe never as much as I am this time through the series.

I got distracted by talking about the characters, the purpose of the council is to go hunting for the Black Cauldron, the source of the Cauldron Born warriors of Arawn. These are basically zombies with swords, doing anything their master calls for — and were the source of a good deal of apprehension when I was a kid, and now just seem like a great foe. Their numbers are swelling, making Dalben and Gwydion certain that something bad is on the horizon — now seems like a good time to raid the Dark Lord’s domain and destroy the Cauldon. Which may not derail the plans in motion, but will at least make them easier for the good guys to survive.

So after the Council, the heroes head out. As soon as they launch their strike, they discover that someone has beaten them to it — the Cauldron is gone and they’ve got to regroup before hunting it down. Things go bad there, the companions are separated from each other and on the run from those the Cauldron has already produced.

Taran, Ellidyr, Adaon, Gurgi and Fflewddurr get a lead on the Cauldron and decide to follow it up immediately rather than let their foes get it while they’re off looking for Gwydion. This takes them to the swamps of Morva — one of my favorite places in the series — and to the hut of Orddu, Orwen, & Orgoch. They will chill younger readers and entertain readers of all ages. From there peril, betrayal, redemption, grief and more ensue as the companions try to destroy the titular MacGuffin.

The Lloyd Alexander introduction to this one was better than the previous — I’m such a geek that listening to little bits of Alexander was one of the highlights of my day. I don’t think I have anything to say about Langton’s performance here that I didn’t say last time. It was good, nothing spectacular, though. He kept me engaged, even if he paced it slower than I’d like. Whoever transferred this from audiotape to digital format had an odd approach to dead space between tapes/tape sides — there are times that I feared the file had stopped unexpectedly, either from a corruption in the file or a glitch in the app, and just as I’d grab my phone to check the Langton’s voice would start again.

A needed part of the story, if only for Taran’s growth, and for what it sets up in books to come. It was never my favorite growing up, still isn’t now, but it was still an entertaining few hours.

—–

3 Stars

The Book of Three (Audiobook) by Lloyd Alexander, James Langton

The Book of ThreeThe Book of Three

by Lloyd Alexander, James Langton (Narrator)
Series: Chronicles of Prydain, #1
Unabridged Audiobook, 4 hrs, 56 min.
Listening Library, 2004
Read: March 6 – 9, 2017


I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned once or twice before here that The Chronicles of Prydain were the books that got me into fantasy. The Chronicles of Narnia made me a fan of Narnia, but really didn’t carry over to anything outside of Narnia (at least until I got older and tried Mere Christianity). But Prydain got me appreciating the tropes, conventions and characters that’d get me into Brooks, Weis & Hickman, Eddings, etc., etc. Listening to the audiobooks seemed like a nice way to revisit the series.

Taran, the Assistant Pig Keeper to Hen Wen (an oracular pig), dreams of glory to be found with a sword on the battlefield. His charge is frightened by something and escapes from her pen — Taran chases after her, leaving the only part of Prydain he’s ever known behind in the process. This hunt for the pig takes him to the far reaches of Prydain, where he encounters the son of the High King, Gwydion; Princess Eilonwy — about his age, and a fantastic foil and friend for Taran; Fflewddurr Fflam, an unofficial bard; Gurgi — some sort of simple-minded Sasquatch-like being; and others. Taran also encounters the forces of evil — the Horned King; Archen the enchantress; and other minions of the Dark Lord Arawn.

The themes of true nobility, heroism and what it means to be a man are prevalent (and Alexander maybe gets a little didactic here) — nothing I object to, just it seems a little thick by contemporary standards. Taran learns (for the first time) that there’s as much honor to be found in doing your everyday work well as there is on the battlefield. It probably feels a little old-fashioned to many, but there’s value here. Taran begins to mature here, but it takes (as I recall) all but the last 30 pages of the fifth book for it all to come together for him.

There’s a little audio recording of Alexander before the book kicks off as an introduction — that was pretty cool. Langton’s narration was okay — the narration was okay, maybe a little slow. His interpretation of Taran and Gwydion didn’t do much for me (and actually made me realize how clunkily Alexander wrote their dialogue), but they slowly grew on me. I really couldn’t find anything to like about Gurgi (one of my favorite characters ever). But I really liked everything else — his Eilonwy and Fflewddurr were perfect and a lot of fun. He deserves kudos for his Hen Wen alone, really.

This isn’t the greatest writing you’ll encounter — for the age group or genre. But it’s effective, there’s so much to appreciate here (and not just for nostalgia’s sake). I remain a big fan of the series, and do appreciate the audiobook.

—–

4 Stars

A Strange Chemistry by M. T. Miller

A Strange Chemistry A Strange Chemistry

by M. T. Miller
Series: The Nameless Chronicle

Kindle Edition, 69 pg.
2016

Read: December 14, 2016


If Miller had told me that he was going to write a novella about someone else in The Nameless Chronicle, I’d have had 3 or 4 guesses who’d it’d feature. And I would’ve been wrong. However, if he’d asked for requests, this is what I’d have asked for.

Sure, I’d rather see more from Nameless and I don’t doubt we’ll get that soon — but if we’re going to take a side trip, Rush is the one I’d like to go with.

This takes place not long after the end of Ascent, and if nothing else, this lets us catch a quick glimpse of life after those events. But we don’t get much of that — mostly this is about Rush and her own personal aftermath. Which ain’t pretty. The drugs she’s been taking to perform at the level she does aren’t doing there a lot of for her and withdrawal is lurking around the corner all the time. It’s possible, just possible, that the steady stream of drugs that she depends on is slowing down — maybe even changing into something else. This, and her steady need for distraction, gets Rush on the street to investigate. Which doesn’t go so well for her — but Rush being Rush, it goes worse for most of those who cross her.

While we’re seeing this, we get Rush’s origin story, which goes almost exactly the way you’d have guessed. But Miller gives it to us in such a way that the reader doesn’t feel like he’s wasting his time reading it — it also helps the emotional weight of what’s going on in the “present” day story. I thought she was interesting before, I know she’s interesting now — and I can’t wait to see what Miller’s going to do with this character next.

This is a short, fast read with plenty of action and a good dose of insight into one of this series’ most interesting characters. If you’re reading The Nameless Chronicle, you want to read this. If you’re not reading the series, you should look into it. Good stuff.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this from the author in exchange for my honest opinion and because the author’s a cool guy.

—–

3 Stars

Chapel of Ease by Alex Bledsoe

Chapel of EaseChapel of Ease

by Alex Bledsoe
Series: Tufa, #4

Hardcover, 315 pg.
Tor Books, 2016

Read: November 19, 2016

“Sometimes the best mysteries are never solved, because the mystery is too important to lose. This is the story about one of those mysteries. Most of it’s true, and the parts that ain’t, well, they still sound true.”

It’s time to return to Needsville, TN, the home of the Tufa for the latest installment in one of the best ongoing Fantasy around. One of the best things about this series is how every book is completely different from its predecessors, but they all clearly belong to the same series.

After a quick tease, we enter the story in New York City where an up-and-coming musical writer/composer and a well-established director are casting for an off-Broadway musical (the opening line of which was quoted above). There’s something about the story and songs penned by Ray Parrish that draws everyone who reads and/or hears them in as surely as moths to a flame. One such person was Matt Johanssen, who becomes friends with Ray as well as one of the more dedicated cast members.

The twist in this tale comes from the source of Ray’s material — old (and not-so-old) Tufa stories and music. As anyone who knows these people realizes, people back home are not going to look kindly on this. There are a couple of people on the fringes of Ray’s world that make it clear that the Tufa want something out of Ray — ideally, a cessation of any musical or play or anything ending up in public. Ray will not be dissuaded, this is the story he wants to tell — whether people in Needsville want him to or not.

Just before the much-talked about play opens, Ray dies in his sleep and it falls upon Matt to bring his ashes home to his family. While there, he has the opportunity to look into the places and people this play is based on — and maybe get an idea what the central mystery of the play is about. Ray’d played his cards close to the chest on this topic and without him around to tell the cast, someone has to do some first-hand research. So, while mourning his friend and getting to know his family, Matt finds himself on the verge of instigating a feud while doing his research.

Now, it’s not unusual for a Tufa novel to feature an outsider’s first encounter with the Tufa. But this time, the book is just about that — there’s so little action outside of this story that it really doesn’t merit attention (at least not now). In these pages we have a first person narrator as the person encountering the culture. This gives everything an immediacy, an intimacy that we don’t normally get to these. Also, the narrow concentration keeps the reader focused on what’s going on with the Parrishes and Matt, without worrying about the Tufa politics, shifting power, and so on (it’s there, and there are changes in town, but that’s not what the novel is about).

In many ways, it’s not a novel about the Tufa — it just happens that they’re around, it’s a novel about Matt and Ray. But once you throw the Tufa in, you end up with something that’s not your typical story about a dancer/actor from NYC returning his friends’ ashes to the Appalachian town he grew up in.

I thought Matt was great — as was his dawning realization that he wasn’t in the world he knew anymore, and how he reacted to that realization. The way he stepped into parts of the culture he was exposed to was well handled, second only to the way he went about fighting against or struggling with the rest.

You do get to see your favorite recurring characters and they make references to events in the other novels, so readers of the series do get to check in on things other than the Parrishes — please don’t misunderstand. The novel’s focus isn’t on that, however.

If you even glance at the cover blurb, you know that someone has to die so that there’s an urn for Matt to bring to Cloud County, but Ray’s inevitable death was a doozy — and the memorial service held for him was one of the more moving things I’ve read this year (the impromptu memorial in New York held by friends/cast, that is — the wake the Tufa held was a different kind of experience). Making you care about a guy you know is going to die before you open the book and meet him that much takes a special kind of writer — and that’s what Alex Bledsoe is. Naturally, that doesn’t just apply to Ray; it works for Matt, the Parrishes, C. C. and several others who actually survive the book (and one that doesn’t).

I feel like I’m in danger of becoming the Chris Farley talk show host character here, “Remember that part in the book where Matt does ____? That was cool.” I really don’t know what to say about this book — or the others in the series — that I haven’t before. It’s a great setting, with a culture and people you want to see again and again, for both understanding and entertainment. Plus the overwhelming desire to actually hear the music they keep talking about. This is Bledsoe at the top of his game, you should be sure not to miss it.

And, like the play itself — it all sounds true.

—–

4 1/2 Stars

Every Heart a Doorway (Audiobook) by Seanan McGuire, Cynthia Hopkins

Every Heart a Doorway (Audiobook) Every Heart a Doorway

by Seanan McGuire, Cynthia Hopkins (Narrator)
Series: Wayward Children, #1

Unabridged Audiobook, 4 hrs., 44 min.
2016, Macmillan Audio

Read: November 17 – 18, 2016


When I get to considering my favorites of 2016, there’s no way that Every Heart a Doorway doesn’t make the Top 10 (see my initial post), so when I saw it available on the library’s audiobook site when I needed something to end the week with, I grabbed it, certain I was going to have a lot of fun.

Wow, was that a mistake. The story was just as good, the characters as rich, the world(s) just as fascinating — the writing, the wordplay, the language . . . it was just as good as I remembered. But man, the narration just didn’t work for me at all. The book is creepy, funny, spooky, beautiful — and remains so despite the narration. The jokes don’t land, most of the characters seem to lack affect. Actually, I have a list of problems, but I don’t want to get nasty, so I’ll just leave it at that.

I did pick up a bit of a William Ernest Henley’s “Invictus”-vibe towards the end this time that I hadn’t picked up the first time — but I still like it, regardless. I noticed more details, and appreciated the examination of the ideas of what’s home and what’s real maybe a little more this time, so it wasn’t a wasted effort. But it was a disappointing one.

I do want to make it clear that I don’t think Hopkins couldn’t turn in a good performance — I don’t have enough information to say that. I do think that she was wrong for this project, didn’t understand it, or had an off day. I’m not sure. But a novella as exceptionally good as Every Heart a Doorway deserves the best, and this wasn’t it. So for this audiobook (not the text version), I’ve gotta go with 4 stars (and even that feels a little generous).

—–

4 Stars

The Lost Child of Lychford by Paul Cornell

The Lost Child of LychfordThe Lost Child of Lychford

by Paul Cornell
Series: Witches of Lychford, #2

Kindle Edition, 144 pg.
Tor.com, 2016

Read: November 2 – 3, 2016


It’s been a few months since Reverend Lizzie Blackmore, Judith (the elderly witch), and Autumn (now her apprentice and her employer) fought off the supernaturally corrupt megastore (and probably mundanely corrupt, too, come to think of it) and life has moved on in a relatively normal way. The three have forged some sort of alliance — easy for Autumn and Lizzie, already close, but learning new things about each other; not so easy for Judith to be accepted and to accept them, I don’t think. Autumn’s learning from Judith, while getting some help in her shop (which seems like a small town version of Atticus O’Sullivan’s and Alex Verus’ shops combined). Judith’s got something to do, a way to pass on her knowledge, and Lizzie is super-busy with pre-Christmas activities in the church.

But given everything we learned about Lychford, it’s not terribly surprising that things won’t stay that way, it’s just a question of what kind of other-worldly strangeness will come calling first.

In this case, it’s a ghost — or ghost-like apparition — that came to Lizzie at church. A small child looking frightened and worse for wear, with a simple request of: “No hurting.” Now, our trio can’t all agree on what the apparition is, but they can all get behind the idea of “No hurting.” They just have to figure out if that’s something they can stop — and then they’ll worry about the how. Neither piece of that plan works the way that it’s supposed to, but it seems these three are pretty good at improvising. Autumn, in particular, seems particularly adept at that.

I appreciated the fact that each of these women make one significant mistake (and probably some smaller ones) — two that come from inexperience, one that proves that experience doesn’t equal infallibility. They’re all believable, they do more than just advance the plot, they are honest with the characters and situation. Too often in novels you’re left wondering why a protagonist would be so stupid as to do X — when really it comes down to they have to do X or the really cool Y thing can’t happen at the end. That doesn’t happen here — sure, the attentive reader might be able to see the blunder coming around the corner, but there’s no reason to think that our protagonists should until it’s too late. Because while these three are fictional characters, Cornell imbues them with a genuineness, a substantial-ness that’s fitting for a real person (sadly, not always present with them, however).

Man, I had to use DuckDuckGo a lot to get all the cultural details in these pages — I know next to nothing about Anglican Christmas festivities, and less about British Christmas Pop Music. I’m not sure how much I’ll benefit long-term from this research, but it was interesting. I might have been better off not knowing anything about Greg Lake and his song, though.

If there was such a thing as magic, it wouldn’t look like anything from Harry Potter, Harry Dresden or some other fantasy series starring a Harry. It’d look like this, I wager. Quiet; shadowy; right out in the open, yet somehow unseen. All substance, no flash. Oh, yeah, and creepy — can’t forget creepy and inexplicable. Which is pretty much everything that happened in this book — up to and including most of the things the trio does to prevent things from getting really out of hand. It’s hard to talk about realism in a fantasy novel, but Cornell’s one of those that make you do that.

The Witches of Lychford was thoroughly entertaining and did a great job of establishing this world. This novella took full advantage of that to tell a more compelling story. I don’t think it’s absolutely necessary to read Witches first, but it’d help a lot. “I Believe in Father Christmas,” notwithstanding, I thought The Lost Child of Lychford lived up to its predecessor and left me eager to return to this little village.

—–

4 Stars

This Damned Band by Paul Cornell and Tony Parker

This Damned BandThis Damned Band

by Paul Cornell, Tony Parker (Artist)

Trade Paperback, 160 pg.
Dark Horse, 2016

Read: October 12, 2016


I’ve struggled for a couple of days now trying to figure out what I can say about this. It’s all about the premise when it comes to this book (a collection of issues from a limited-run series).

This is a comic about one of the biggest bands of 1974, Motherfather, on what could be their last world tour — complete with a documentary crew, a gaggle of groupies, and a manager who could be the hybrid of Wilson Fisk and Colonel Tom Parker. Like many rock artists of the time, Motherfather makes a big deal about worshiping the devil as part of their stage persona. While on this tour (possibly with some psychopharmacological help), they discover they’ve actually been worshiping the devil.

Oops.

Things don’t go all that well from there.

If you like that hook, you’ll like this book. Otherwise, just skip it.

Paul Cornell wrote this, so right off that tells you this is going to be well-written. A little humor, some real people and real emotions, and some seriously messed up supernatural elements. Cornell delivers on the promise of the premise — and a little more. It’s exactly what you want to read given the hook.

As for Tony Parker? I don’t think I’ve seen his stuff before — but I’m going to keep an eye out for it. I honestly can’t think of anyone who could’ve matched the style and story of this book like he did — either in the film sections, the visions/hallucinations, or the rest. Really great work.

I should throw in a quick note here, if it’s not obvious from the subject matter, this is not for kids.

It’s not for everyone, but it’s pretty entertaining. If the concept strikes you as up your alley, it probably is — give this one a shot.

—–

3 Stars

Venators: Through the Arch by Devri Walls

Venators: Through the ArchVenators: Through the Arch

by Devri Walls
Series: Venators, #1

Kindle Edition, 300 pg.
Superstorm Productions, 2016
Read: October 7 – 10, 2016

So this is a strange double-portal fantasy — six years ago Tate and some other creatures come into our world and run into Grey Malteer and some others, and disappear soon afterwards. Tate (and some others) comes back to check up on Grey and let him know about his destiny. In the meantime, Grey’s discovered he has some strange supernatural abilities — and has been teaching himself to use them in secret — he’s also been doing some research into the supernatural in the open, which is not such a great idea for a socially awkward teen — he might as well attach a “Kick Me” sign to his back himself.

About the same time, Rune’s twin, Ryker starts acting a little strange (and definitely takes advantage of the metaphorical “Kick Me” sign). Rune starts to feel differently about her brother and the supernatural, but there’s nothing she can put her finger on — so she bows to parental pressure and devotes herself to three things: academics, sports, and keeping Ryker from self-destruction. She excels at all three.

Six years later, the three are in college and Tate returns to bring Rune and Grey back to his world. A world where they are Venators (hunters) — keeping the vampires, werewolves, goblins, elves, fae, dragons, etc. in line. Eon is home to pretty much every mythological creature you can think of — and a few that Walls has invented on her own. The Venators are a line of human hunters supernaturally immune to the various abilities and magics of them all, whose duty it is to keep order in the land.

For various and sundry (largely undisclosed) reasons, most of the Venators are dead and gone — only these two remain. Tate and some of his allies, under the watchful (and not entirely corrupt) eye of the Council will train them to fulfill their destiny and restore the Venators to their rightful place.

Throw in a distrustful populace, a mysterious and powerful enemy, and a couple of super-powered impetuous and idealistic youths and you’ve got yourself a heckuva story.

Walls writes with a confidence and flair that helps the reader trust that she’ll be able to make sense of a fairly jumbled beginning (not bad, but could’ve been easier to navigate). Once we get into Eon, she balances plot, character work and worldbuilding to create a foundation for a promising series. I wondered a couple of times if the characters could’ve been developed a little more fully, but the work as a whole was strong enough that I was willing to roll with it and assume she’ll give us fuller characters next go around.

A quick-moving introduction to an interesting new reality. Give this one a shot — Walls will entertain you.

—–

3.5 Stars

Ascent by M. T. Miller

AscentAscent: Second Book of the Nameless Chronicle

by M. T. Miller
Series: The Nameless Chronicle, #2

Kindle Edition, 316 pg.
2016

Read: September 3, 2016


Can you read this without having read Risen? Yeah, but it’d be better if you didn’t (and Risen is short enough that you might was well). I’m not sure how much time has passed since the last page of the first book, but we find Nameless pretty much how we left him — wandering along, on the verge of . . . whatever exactly would happen to him if he didn’t get more energy. Like before, almost as soon as he gets to town, he falls victim to a gang of sorts and is mugged. Of course, his first order of business (after recuperating from the beating) is revenge, which will give him the energy he needs to move around the Pyramid to search for the explanations he needs to understand his abilities, his nature and identity.

What’s the Pyramid, you ask? It’s a city in a giant 4-tiered structure (each tier housing a different caste). Nameless adopts a name, makes a little money on the lowest level — full of crime, poverty and menial labor — and buys himself access to the next level. Where he finds a new — and legal — way to use his fighting abilities to make money. Things go haywire from there.

There’s a lot more going on in this book than there was in its predecessor, Risen — if for no other reason than it’s almost 3 times as long. It’s still the same kind of book — full of violence, some pretty good fight scenes, and a post-apocalyptic culture that’s foreign, yet all-too familiar. There are many more characters, relating to Nameless in a variety of ways — friendship, camaraderie, betrayal, exploitation, to name a few.

The way things went in Book One, I assumed that we were going to learn Nameless’ origins, etc. over the course of a handful of books. Nope — we get almost every question we had about where he came from answered — and almost all of them are just dumped on us. There was no slow and steady learning here, just BAM! here are your answers. And it worked — much better than a slow reveal, a giant dropping of information (which I usually am opposed to) took care of everything (while still leaving me with almost as many questions as Nameless had).

I shouldn’t neglect to say that just because Nameless has almost all of his questions answered here, that he knows what to do with this information. I’m guessing part (or all of that) will be revealed in Book Three.

I don’t normally do this, but I while writing this I went back to my post about Risen and chuckled because what I said there as a lot like the next point on my outline: “My one complaint is length — just about everything is too short. The story is too short, most of the scenes are, too. But I’m pretty sure that’s just my wanting more for myself — to give us longer scenes would ruin the pacing, would mess with the way Miller’s constructing the series. And really, when you get down to it “I wanted more!” is more of a compliment than a complaint — but I’m calling it one nonetheless.” His scenes aren’t too short this time, but everything else I said there is still true. A lot of the action (especially the violence) is given to us in summary form — we see the “important” fights, the ones that shape the story, but the rest is given in something like a re-cap mode (ditto with the flirting, with his conversations with others, and so on). So clearly, this is the kind of thing that’s 1. Miller’s style and/or 2. The style of this series. Either are perfectly acceptable. And honestly? If he’d given us more of the fights, more about Nameless’ days in the new society he’d encountered, etc. I’d likely be complaining that he’s reveling in the violence, bogging down the story with the details. So what do I know?

Ascent is a book that kept you guessing and leaves you in a very different world than you thought you were in at the beginning — with a status quo that is so far from what it initially was that it’ll leave you reeling. Taut, well-paced, with some pretty good hand-to-hand combat scenes — and it won’t let you go until the very end. Miller’s really got something going here.

Disclaimer — I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion. I appreciate that, Mr. Miller — and thanks for being so cool about me forgetting the date.

—–

3.5 Stars

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child by J.K. Rowling, John Tiffany & Jack Thorne

Harry Potter and the Cursed ChildHarry Potter and the Cursed Child – Parts One and Two (Special Rehearsal Edition)

by J.K. Rowling, John Tiffany & Jack Thorne
Series: Harry Potter, #8

Hardcover, 308 pg.
Scholastic, Inc., 2016
Read: September 2, 2016

I went into this with low expectations for a few reasons (negative buzz being one of many), and sadly had them all met — I don’t think anything were exceeded.

This is fan-fiction, pure and simple. Sure, it’s official fan-fiction written in conjunction with Rowling — but it’s not the same series, it doesn’t feel the same. It feels like someone’s trying to recapture what they had, in just a slightly different form. I’m fine with that — if people want to throw money at Rowling, Tiffany and Thorne for doing this? Let them. Let’s just not pretend it’s more than what it is.

The story primarily focuses on Harry and Ginny’s middle child, Albus. Albus is pretty uncomfortable living in the shadow of the Boy Who Lived — he doesn’t like the notoriety or pressure that comes with that territory. Which is absolutely understandable — especially now that he’s at Hogwarts, where Harry’s legend is strongest. Between that, and typical teenager strife with Dad leads Albus to take some really big risks with banned magical technology.

These risks center on time travel — and this is where it lost me. I just can’t stand the kind of stories where someone goes back in time with perfectly good intentions and messes things up, changing the future so much that it’s not recognizable. So then they (or someone else) have to go back in time again to prevent/minimize the damage. And magically, this second (or third) intervention restores everything back to the way it was before the time travelers left. Sure, this is a series in which magical things like that are clearly possible. But there’s possible and too-incredible. It almost doesn’t matter how good this story/execution was, I wouldn’t be crazy about it.

The writing was . . . okay. Nothing spectacular, nothing that had the same …”magic” as the other books in the series. It’s not as bad as many claim — but it’s not as good as others claim either. How some of this can be staged, I just can’t imagine. I’m not saying it can’t be — but wow, that’s a real technical challenge, I’d think.

There were some nice moments, some great fan-service stuff — and I’m very glad I got to meet Scorpius Malfoy. I’d rather spend time with him than any of the rest of the descendants of the original series, there’s something very cool about this kid. I should also mention that there’s some nice father-son moments with Harry and Albus.

On the whole, I’m glad I read this, but I really can’t get crazy about it.

—–

3 Stars

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