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Why are Number One and Number Three the same?
Gio really likes crabs.
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AND
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(Author: S. KIRK PIERZCHALA)
Review by INFAMOUS 🦀
Echoes is a very well-written story which, however, could have been trimmed down to half its length and still manage to deliver everything it does. I’ll explain what I mean in a moment.
When a sample of a seemingly new, potentially devastating biological weapon is seized by special agency ITOD, agent Owen McIntyre finds himself involved in the dealings of the most dangerous Colombian cartel led by the Chen family. Deciding to go undercover and befriend the younger of the two Chen brothers (Tomas) in order to gather crucial evidence, Owen finds himself in a roller coaster of struggles; both physical and psychological.
On the surface this seems a pretty cut and dry cyberpunk trope, if it wasn’t for the infusion of ‘humanity’ the author instilled in it. Though we do have good guys vs villains, we also learn that people in this futuristic world sometimes simply try to deal the cards handed to them the best they can. Owen gets a rude awakening when he discovers the true situation Tomas is in and even develops some sort of ‘friendship’ with the guy.
Will Owen be able to accomplish his mission, or will the Chen family (headed by resourceful and ambitious brother Francisco) keep controlling the world economies from behind the curtains?
As I mentioned earlier, Pierzchala can write some brilliant prose, and she digs deep into the minds of each character to expose their innermost joys, fears, worries, and inner struggles. What I notice though is that this approach can reach a point of diminishing returns by slowing down the pace too much and extending the story beyond what the reader may find engaging. Particularly when it comes to this specific genre, you want a fast-paced, story-driven narrative to keep the audience on the edge.
Segments like the road trip that Owen and Tomas go on felt like dragging too much, with just a couple of events that never impacted the story in any significant way. A lot of chapters are filled with ordinary tasks as these characters just go through the motion.
In addition to the overall pace I just discussed, it’s also worth mentioning some plot points that felt weak. Example: knowing that you have a spy under your roof and that he’s wired, destroying his wire device won’t help you much since by then his backup most likely already has a location locked on you. You should be running, and quick, not partying!
But I digress…
Echoes Through Distant Glass is an overall interesting ‘cyberpunk/drama’ that suffers from a few pace/plot hiccups. Sometimes it’s tough to find that fine balance in a story that wants to be both character-driven and story-driven. I honestly feel that cutting out a lot of content from the final draft could have turned this into an overall more dynamic narrative. But that’s just my take.
INFAMOUS 🦀
In the year 1875, Inspector Ol’Barrow of Dover’s borough police finds himself grappling with the emergence of radio dramas when a perplexing murder case lands on his desk. Together with his colleague, Bigsby, they face an enigmatic assassin with origins beyond this world.
Driven by duty and a thirst for redemption, Ol’Barrow joins forces with a covert organization known as the Association of Ishtar. They serve as advisors to the authorities, specializing in managing anomalies called Rifts—innocuous gateways to alternate realms harboring untold dangers. Ol’Barrow’s eyes are opened to a reality where Napoleon wields futuristic weaponry against England, corporations pioneer otherworldly technology, and societal progress comes at a perilous cost.
As humanity hurtles towards a technocratic future, the question looms: Where will it lead? For some, biology is a dead end, and humanity must ascend.
Coming soon: Comic review by Hank; Novel review by Gio.
In the third tale of Man of Swords, we find our hero crucified to a tree and barely alive, before being rescued and restored back to health by a family of fauns. How did Rhoye ever get in this predicament? And why would this local family want to aid a total stranger?
Well you’ll have to read to find out, but my job here really is to analyze the writing from a PCP (prose/characters/plot) standpoint. Objectively and fairly.
The ‘highlight reel’ definitely belongs to the Faun family: father Olnbirch, mother Khirra, and young daughter Zairre. What distinguishes them is their altruism and devotion to live a quiet and peaceful life, never to compromise their beliefs and code of ethics. Zairre particularly has some very special moments. With her innocence, she can melt the most hardened of hearts ( well, almost any). The way these three characters are written is so delightful that we can’t help but feel emotionally invested in their whereabouts.
Trouble starts when a group of greedy miners start harassing our beloved family in order to take their land which supposedly is rich in gold. The family is not willing to leave their land and that’s when things get ‘complicated’ since Rhoye is by now back in almost full health and strength.
This reminded me of a Spaghetti Western film adaptation in a sense. Only that instead of taking place in the Wild West it takes place in the Wandered Lands. It is gripping, exciting…But it could have been executed even better in my opinion and here is why:
Pace: from the time the miners give the family their ultimatum to leave the farm there is a long chunk of time when not much really happens. It’s just Rhoye living with the Faun family and helping them around the farm. This, I felt, was too drawn out: they work the fields, go visit other faun neighbors, go dance at some local harvest festival…
Dialogue: some of the dialogues were redundant and unnecessary. If we witness a particular action scene take place first hand, we don’t need one of the characters to give a thorough account of those events in the first person later, because we already know all about it. This creates unnecessary bloating.
Overall, The Devil out of Wych Elm remains a solid tale worth reading. Again, the Faun family, their reaction to adversities, their meekness, their willingness to not live by the ‘eye for an eye’ rule, all of that is what makes this so special.
Not the best we’ve seen from Mills, yet highly recommended!
If you could have a superpower, what would it be?
I’m guessing that’s a question that’s been asked in interviews at Marvel and DC for decades, now. Not completely unrelated: in what decade did the last noteworthy superhero debut? I’m thinking the ’60s, but maybe it was the ’70s.
We’ve all seen the creative implosion in mainstream entertainment. That industry has always been crawling with commies and perverts, but back in the day they at least had talent and could create art that decent people enjoyed.
Sometime between when they persistently but subtly slipped their cultural Marxist messaging into movies/literature/music that otherwise had merit, and ramming blatant Globohomo narratives down the audience’s collective throat at every opportunity, the vehicles they deployed to deliver their mind control also lost their entertainment value. They lost any modicum of originality, too.
Unable to come up with a single compelling story idea, Homowood can now only recycle what’s already been done several times before, or mine other IP from old TV shows, cartoons, toys, and comic books.
Comic “creators” (what an ironic phrase, when applied to Marvel and DC employees) can’t come up with a single interesting idea of their own. They simply take legacy characters still beloved, and pervert, race-or-gender-swap them to peddle more cultural Marxist narratives that drive fans away from the medium.
Let’s look at some of the efforts of comic writers to develop new, original characters, in the postmodern era, with a specific focus.
The bread-and-butter of Marvel and DC was the superhero. Characters have personalities (well, once upon a time they did) of course, but what makes a hero super is their superpowers. What sort of superpowers have postmodern comic artists/writers given their characters? (By “postmodern,” I include Boomers, Millennials, and whatever Gen Xers managed to slip in between them.)
There’s a character by the name of Jazz–an aspiring rapper by day who moonlights as a crimefighting (?) mutant. His superpower: he can turn himself blue.
But Color Kid is even more powerful. He can not only turn himself blue–he can turn other stuff other colors, too. Evildoers best beware!
These are far from the only characters with gay-ass abilities, but I want to highlight some more characters with powers that are far less interesting than what they reveal about their creators. Let’s roll the clock all the way back to the beginning of the postmodern era for the first one.
This dude can (and does) eat anything–food, dishes, utensils, wood, metal, glass, whatever. I suspect this superpower was inspired by some real people in the comic company bullpens (and later, typical proprietors and customers at comic shops) who ate a lot more than they exercised. And eating disorders are a nice transition to…
His superpower is, he’s morbidly obese. Bet you didn’t know that is a good thing, huh? Well, now you know that our country in the 21st century is overrun with superheroes. Blob is a hero that millions today can relate to.
Seriously, I don’t want to get off on a fat-shaming tangent, but it says a lot about the delusions of our cultural influencers that they would spin obesity as a heroic asset.
Her superpower is good luck. I can’t disparage this one too much because, in real life, whatever invisible force is often dismissed as “luck” is more of a determinant of success than talent, expertise, discipline, effort and planning, in many situations. Most of the “creatives” in today’s entertainment achieved and maintain their positions by “luck” (plus checking the correct diversity boxes, and the integrity of a whore). If you don’t have “luck,” then it rarely matters how good you are or how hard you try–you’ll never get as far as the lazy, spineless, amoral, untalented hacks who have it.
This one is a Freudian slip, personified. The superpower is the ability to copy somebody else. A comic book glorification of what woketards in the entertainment industry do: rip off the intellectual property of actual creators, and twist it to their own nefarious purposes.
His tattoos come to life. That’s his superpower. Are you starting to see how most of these superpowers are just exaggerations of the real-world attitudes embraced by certain demographics?
In real life, there are NPCs who truly believe they can make themselves more attractive by covering themselves with ink and piercings. In their fantasies, I suppose, such modifications not only make them more attractive and interesting, but also more powerful.
This one’s superpower is, basically, body odor. Along with obesity, another common characteristic in evidence at comic book shops (and in the bullpens, probably) is an aversion to personal hygiene. Little did you lesser mortals know, but this is an inspiring crimefighting tool.
Her superpower is bipolar mood swings. Are you starting to see that these characters are simply grandiose self-inserts by the narcissists who work at the Big Two? What sane people see as a handicap, flaw, or disorder is ack-shully part of what makes the visionaries in mainstream comics so superior to you.
There’s a character introduced within the last few years whose superpower was the ability to force others to like her. I kid you not. So remarkable and inspiring was this character that I can’t remember her name. Neither, apparently, can the World Wide Web.
You’ve got an industry run by fat, unbathed, mentally unstable basement-dwellers (who believe themselves to be secret kings and queens far superior to us, with the knowledge of how to fix the world’s problems), incapable of developing characters that anybody finds interesting–much less heroic.
When you think about it, the “creatives” in the industry today almost perfectly match the personality profile of the fictional mad scientist villains from the Golden Age. (“The fools! They’re threatened by my superior intellect! But one day they’ll bow before me and be forced to admit I am the ultimate genius!”) Except the mad scientists actually knew enough about real science to build giant robots, resurrect dinosaurs, and genetically engineer monsters. Their real-life counterparts still can’t grasp rudimentary concepts like two genders, herd immunity, and the size of virus particles.
Go back to the Golden Age, and most of the Silver Age. Characters created back then had superpowers like super strength, invulnerability, flight, X-ray vision, super speed, invisibility, growth, shrinking, stretching, fire, and breathing underwater. As farfetched as they were, those abilities were practical. It was easy to conceptualize how those superpowers could be utilized to protect the innocent, make society better, and counter threats to peace and order.
In the “silly” cultural phenomenon of comic books, we find a bellweather for the state of our civilization. Far from the only bellweather, of course. Just one more corroborating all the other evidence that our civilization is circling the drain.
I was inspired to study this subject by a comment AC (Anonymous Conservative) made on his website some time ago. He has done some groundbreaking work on r and K selection, what that looks like in human societies, and how pop culture reflects it. It’s no wonder that he made this observation.
(I recommend his book on r and K selection: The Evolutionary Psychology Behind Politics, and might review it here one day.)
As I understand it: from the colonial days, up until the end of WWII, America was mostly K-selected. We built stuff, could fix stuff. We protected women and children. We worked, saved, prepared for the future. We were trustworthy neighbors, loyal friends, good Samaritans to strangers, but vigilant about protecting/preserving our own families, property, neighborhood, etc. We didn’t tolerate obvious thieves, perverts, traitors, murderers or rapists. We certainly didn’t allow them to force their amoral attitudes on the rest of society. Superheroes with practical superpowers made sense in that civilization.
Long story short, America shifted toward r-selection in the Postwar era. They abandoned the values and attitudes that helped make us once great. They became , basically, a bunch of indulged brats who threw a party, trashed their parents’ house, then refused to clean up afterwards. In fact, their every effort concentrates on destroying what is left of the house. Every effort that isn’t focused on their own personal gratification, that is. This is exemplified by the forgettable superheroes this r-selected culture has introduced. And by how the iconic superheroes of yesteryear are being corrupted and destroyed.
What do you think?
Review by INFAMOUS 🦀
I truly wanted to like this story, and the author is a standout human being, but unfortunately I have to be objective and report that I could find very little to praise about here.
The story suffers from several issues; from character development, to pacing, to some prosaic choices, and even too frequent and unnecessary line breaks.
Basically the story is about two individuals, Stojan and Anastazja, who (after losing their beloved ones, respectively) find one another and build a father/daughter relationship, while traveling across a dystopian world somewhere in a post-apocalyptic future.
On the surface, the premises sound good and intriguing. However a further look will reveal several weaknesses in how this was executed.
We meet Stojan, a former captain turned assassin who lost his will to live since the death of his daughter 3 years prior. When he takes on a ‘job’ by a so-called Bishop to assassinate a particular individual whom the prophecy has indicated to be a future threat to the Bishop himself, Stojan embarks on a journey that takes a strange turn: he falls in love with Anastazja and can no longer fulfill his task.
Now, I get that Stojan has lost his daughter and he’s still mourning, but every time we introduce a character that has the power and influence of healing the pain of a loss, the new relationship has to feel organic and it has to build up in steps, gradually, to feel believable. This doesn’t happen here. From the moment Stojan sets his eyes on Ana he’s already fallen in love with her as a father with a daughter. It all feels rushed and kind of weird in a way.
Another weird plot choice is the way Ana’s biological father dies in the story. For the sake of avoiding spoilers, I encourage you to read that particular scene for yourself.
The other problem I found was the pace: after the two main characters come together and embark on their trip across these lands, everything feels very slow and tedious. They cross the ocean from a region called Poliska (Poland? Europe?) to another region called Amira (America?), and the most exciting thing that happens is ending up in a Native American colony where they spend a whole year just enjoying the lifestyle of their host. Nothing significant happens, except for perhaps having two of the Indian tribal chiefs arguing over what new tribal name to assign to Ana (I’m totally serious).
When the two protagonists decide to leave the Indian community there’s more hiking, more riding horses across vast lands, and more NOTHING….
Some of the prosaic choices I also found not ideal given this world: in this futuristic world most people are illiterate or barely know how to read, yet their spoken language is very articulate and even more sophisticated than ours is today. It’s almost as if these people somehow went back to speaking Shakespearean English though not even having any books around anymore.
To conclude, it is with sadness that I must admit that the only true highlight of this book and most uplifting moment was when I finally turned to the last page.
If you think I must be exaggerating or being too harsh, by all means buy a copy and read it for yourself. I would love your comments.
INFAMOUS 🦀
In the Web circles in which I cyber-travel, there is much discussion of Western civilization and legacy of Western culture. Also lamentations that it’s being lost.
My focus here is on one artifact of that disappearing legacy/culture.
American kids used to be exposed to Tennyson’s famous poem. You find references to it in hundreds or thousands of other creative work. It was through one such reference that I first learned of the existence of this poem.
Almost nobody in today’s government schools is introducing kids to this poem. In fact, there are certainly millions of adults in America who have never learned about it, or understand what references to it are still made.
(I in this clip, at about 0:24, the REMF* interpreter paraphrases part of “Charge of the Light Brigade.” Just as myself and probably millions of other veterans have.)
To put the narrative of this poem in context, we must know a little about the circumstances of a battle during the Crimean War:
25 October, 1854; the siege of Sevastopol. Lord Raglan is the C.O. (commanding officer). The Russians are conducting a counterattack outside Balaclava, and capture British cannons. Raglan spots them running off with his artillery and wants to prevent this loss.
Raglan decides to send his Light Brigade after the Ruskies and get his field guns back. The Light Brigade is so-named because it is about a 600-man unit of light cavalry, which at this point in history meant the horses bore no armor (in contrast to the Heavy Brigade). The troopers carried sabers and light lances that were more like spears. Such units were quick and agile.
So far, so good. This is a sound, reasonable allocation of military resources to rebound from a setback. Raglan composes a message to his cavalry commander that says, basically, “Send the Light Brigade after those Ruskies stealing our cannons, and bring the guns back!”
Within his order was a careless neglect of specific detail that would make this a tragic day. From where Raglan surveyed the battle space, it was obvious which Ruskies he was referring to. But the cavalry commander didn’t see what Raglan saw, from his position.
The message filtered down to Brigadier General Brudinell (the Earl of Cardigan or, simply, “Cardigan”), Commander of the Light Brigade. What Ruskies does Lord Raglan have in mind, he asks. The messenger waved toward the east. Attack, now, sez he.
Not that the cavalry knew, but the enemy was carrying off British field guns to the south, hidden by the terrain from their position. What lay to the east was something else entirely.
I’m sure Cardigan lost all color in his face.
“Those cannons???” he must have wanted to ask.
In the direction the dispatch rider waved was an enormous Russian formation dug in on the high ground behind numerous artillery batteries on three sides. The valley they commanded was covered by a triangular crossfire. If any British, French, or Turkish unit was foolish enough to enter that valley, they would find themselves, in modern military parlance, inside a “kill box.”
The valley was a deathtrap. This was a suicide mission.
The Valley of Death.
The officers and men were obligated to take the orders at face value. They didn’t know the orders were based on a “blunder” of omission. I guarantee you, every cavalryman, from the C.O. down to the lowest enlisted man, was severely “dismayed” by the insane orders.
What followed was an age-old conundrum for a soldier.
A soldier has to obey the orders of the officers over him. Even when the orders make no sense. Even when the orders are crazy, idiotic, or suicidal. The officers have maps, and good vantage points, and knowledge that the common soldier doesn’t. Most of the time, orders that don’t make sense to a soldier at the time will make sense later, from a strategic perspective, and prove necessary for accomplishing a mission. Some orders are, indeed, insane, and result in needless slaughter. But the common soldier usually doesn’t know which order is which. He must trust in his chain-of-command, and follow orders regardless.
It would be difficult-to-impossible to win wars without soldiers who will follow orders like those British cavalry troopers did.
Theirs was not to make reply. (Sir, this is suicidal! You’re sending us to our doom for no good reason!”)
Theirs was not to reason why. (“Why the bloody cack are we riding right into the mouth of hell, into the jaws of death? What purpose could this possibly serve? If we are to capture those cannons, send us in from behind, in the dark of night. And even then, with the advantage of surprise, it would be a forlorn hope!”)
Theirs was but to do and die. (Their job was to carry out their orders, even when it guaranteed their death.)
Boldly they rode, and well, while under murderous fire from the front and both flanks. As they grew closer to the enemy line, Russian gunners switched out the artillery shells for “shot.” That’s short for “grapeshot.” By this time grapeshot was more sophisticated, and starting to be called “cannister.” In effect, the smoothbore cannons were firing something like shotgun blasts into both “horse and hero,” with pellets the size of musket balls.
But once the survivors had broken through the line, Cossacks rode upon them. The troopers had to fall back through the Valley of Death, with the Russian artillery shredding them from both flanks and the rear. It was a bloodbath.
There’s a lot that can be said about that engagement. Tennyson concentrated on the honor of the steadfast troopers who rode knowingly into the Mouth of Hell. It was courageous, glorious, as he saw it. A cynic might be tempted to dismiss it as a foolish catastrophe. Were they fools for following orders that day? Not for me to judge. But nobody can question their loyalty, their commitment to their duty, or their mettle.
One more thought: to preserve the stamina of their horses, the cavalry could not maintain a charge at a full gallop over long distances. They advanced at a walk, while already under fire. After half a league (a league is about 3 1/2 miles) they adjusted the pace to a trot. Later they accelerated to a lope or canter. Finally, a sprint. When read the right way, this poem’s cadence approximates the changing pace of the brigade riding into the Jaws of Death.
I’ll let Tennyson take it from here:
IHalf a league, half a league,Half a league onward,All in the valley of DeathRode the six hundred.“Forward, the Light Brigade!Charge for the guns!” he said.Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred.II“Forward, the Light Brigade!”Was there a man dismayed?Not though the soldier knewSomeone had blundered.Theirs not to make reply,Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to do and die.Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred.IIICannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in front of themVolleyed and thundered;Stormed at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of hellRode the six hundred.
IVFlashed all their sabres bare,Flashed as they turned in airSabring the gunners there,Charging an army, whileAll the world wondered.Plunged in the battery-smokeRight through the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReeled from the sabre strokeShattered and sundered.Then they rode back, but notNot the six hundred.VCannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind themVolleyed and thundered;Stormed at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell.They that had fought so wellCame through the jaws of Death,Back from the mouth of hell,All that was left of them,Left of six hundred.VIWhen can their glory fade?O the wild charge they made!All the world wondered.Honour the charge they made!Honour the Light Brigade,Noble six hundred!
This is my way of honoring the noble 600 and the charge they made, Alfred.
* “Rear Echelon Mo-Fo,” AKA “clerks & jerks.” The corporal is literally a clerk-typist, assigned to a squad of Rangers for the mission that this movie is about.
How do you hide something from a Millennial?
Put it in a book
Yeah, I know: harsh generalization. But I bet the statistics would back it up. I would also bet there’s a strong correlation (if not causation) between recreational reading and independent/critical thinking.
Some sources suggest America’s decline in literacy began in the 1920s. I consider it more likely that significant decline can be traced to 1947, when television began to proliferate in middle class homes across America. But whatever.
What we do know is that the popularity of comic books exploded in 1938 and lasted into the 1950s (the superhero craze lasted from 1938 until about 1945). Comic books have never been as popular as they were during the Golden Age. And the comic-reading demographic during that time was mostly boys. A lot of teenagers read them, some old enough to serve in uniform overseas, but the scale tipped significantly to pre-teen boys. Specifically, these were late-cohort GI Generation, Silent Generation, and early-cohort Boomers.
Many from the latter generation would continue reading comics into adulthood. Some from that generation would take over the industry, and shift their sights to an audience of their own peers, turning their backs on the following generations.
Fast-forward to today. With some exceptions, the Millennials and Homelanders* are functionally illiterate and incapable of independent/critical thought. Lots of factors have converged to handicap them this way. One factor is there have effectively no comic books that excited them as boys and led them to a transition to “more serious” prose books.
I listened to one of Chuck Dixon’s podcasts recently, He mentioned that Manga has attracted the young audience that comics lost over the course of the Pozzed Age.**
If Manga can win back that young demographic, then why couldn’t American comics, too? After all, American comics are the original gangsta that first won that audience, anyway.
Here is a windmill worth tipping at. I have begun some research, starting with Demon Slayer, which a librarian says is one of the more popular titles with teenagers. So far as drawing and writing style, it is more refined than most of the Golden Age comics. But I don’t see the story quality as an improvement. I’m sure there is better Manga out there (and hopefully I’ll find some), but take note, my fellow creators: we can do better than this stuff!
We don’t have the equivalent of Anime to market comics to kids, but we should think of something. The Boomers will begin dying off, soon, and American comics will die with them as a medium, unless we crack the code for finding a young audience.
Share your thoughts in the comments.
* I use Generational Theory, as codified by William Strauss & Neil Howe, not the MPAI terms like “Gen Y,” “Gen Z,” “Zoomers,” etc.
** IMO this age began in the 1990s and is still in effect, at least when it comes to mainstream entertainment. Some of us are hard at work trying to usher in an Iron Age…history will determine if we’re successful.
How could I pass up a novel with time travel, demonic conspiracies, the Knights Templar and their modern day descendent (an organization called GRAIL–see what they did, there?)?
GRAIL has a time machine. They’ve been monitoring demonic activity in the present day and believe the world is at the breaking point because of it. But if they are able to recover a Medieval text on demonology (the eponymous Codex Babylon), they might just be able to turn the spiritual tide against the unseen enemy.
Martin Raines is a unicorn honest attorney who has just won a case that could open big doors in his career. But he is choosing early retirement instead. He doesn’t just want to leave the rat race of law, but the Current Year dystopian madhouse altogether. Neither he, nor the narrator, bother to articulate just what all is wrong with modern society, but he knows things are getting increasingly ugly. He is relocating his family to rural Idaho, where he hopes to protect them from the worst of whatever insanity is yet to come.
The ambiguity of the demonic outbreak was no problem for a reader like me. Whatever the author means by “demonic activity,” it was easy for me to assume he was referring to the Cold Civil War, the culture war, and the spiritual conflict behind them. A normie reader would just chalk it up to a fictional aspect of the world the author built, and read on, giving it no more thought than the existence of monsters in a Larry Correa novel.
GRAIL finds Martin and informs him that his instinctive revulsion to current events and trends isn’t ultimately due to woketardery (or whatever), but instead is a result of a drastic upsurge in an age-old demonic force. It will soon achieve such power that Martin’s family won’t be safe, even in Idaho. To have a chance at checking the demonic power, GRAIL needs the Codex Babylon. And Martin is their best candidate to send back to get it.
After the obligatory hero’s resistance, Martin finally agrees and is transported back to the Middle East in between crusades.
The Knights Templar, like so many institutions, started out with good intentions, but eventually transformed into something antithetical to their original purpose. Kroese has his main character go back to the point in history when the Templars’ apostacy arguably began.
That, too, was one battle in the demons’ war against the good, beautiful, and true.
What we know about Martin Raines is:
Martin’s quest is a frustrating tour of Medieval Europe and the Middle East, chasing the spoor of anybody who might know where to find the demonology book. There were times when I felt like yelling at some of the characters. (“Go look at the papers on Benedict’s desk, you dolts!” “Don’t trust her, you moron!”) However, if you can accept time travel as a plot device, everything that happens in the story is believable.
Codex Babylon is Book One of The Cross-Time Crusade Series. It does arguably stand alone. But the link (cliffhanger) to the next book in the series does seem rather tacked-on. This is a common issue with series fiction. Authors employ different literary tactics to make episodic novels both stand alone and work as an integrated narrative. Sometimes they work better than others.
Another common issue with series fiction is that the first book ends after setting the stage, but often before the story hits its stride. This might be the case here, too. There’s a lot of intriguing ingredients introduced in this book. I may have to read Book Two (paid link) to see what kind of dish is produced from this recipe.
Steampunk. What is it exactly? How do we define it as a genre?
If you ask 10 different people you’ll most likely get 10 slightly different answers. I admit, I’m no authority on the subject, but ever since its conception in the 70s/80s I always felt that this genre never reached the recognition or full creative potential in fiction literature I felt it could reach. These days we see a lot of ‘sword and sorcery’ content being written, followed to a lesser extent by science fiction and some cyberpunk. For the most part Steampunk has been a fringe, relegated to the awkward cosplay characters at cons and some mediocrely written comic books and novellas.
There hasn’t been an author to really put Steampunk on the map. And that’s too bad, for the genre itself offers some most peculiar and exciting elements.
The main element (for me at least) is certainly the ‘historical period’ element: Steampunk is based on a dystopian Victorian era that sees the introduction of technological advances that have influenced everything from communications, to architecture, to fashion, and beyond.
This world is posh, austere, elegant, and intriguing. It’s in this retro style that we should find the source of great and unexplored storytelling. But do we?
Just putting goggles and top hats on some blimp-flying characters won’t make for great stories, but it seems that most of the steampunk content we have is just that: unoriginal, mediocre stories dressed up in Steampunk attire.
Virtual Pulp was able to connect with a ‘certain individual’ I firmly believe to be an authority on the topic.
This gentleman will help me and you better understand Steampunk in relation to the current fiction literature trends, and dispel any and all misconceptions. He is also a proficient writer and thus we will also feature his first novel and first comic book, complete with a thorough review.
