This One's a Lemon by H M Gordon

I picked this one up because of the title. I really can be that shallow sometimes. That it was a cyberpunk-style science-fiction book only made me more keen to pick it up. It was only later that I realised that the Internet had pretty much nothing on the novel. As far as I know, its only presence until now was the Amazon page. So this is kinda weird, knowing that this is possibly the first review of This One's a Lemon out there. I only hope I get this right.

This One's a Lemon is the first in the Tilde Slash trilogy.Set in the near future of an alternate timeline in which Europe and America essentially collapsed in on themselves in the years 2000-2010, it follows the aforementioned Tilde Slash. She's a small-time hacker who specialises in the extraction of data and programmes, so it's not unusual for someone to ask her to find their late husband's missing software. What makes it interesting is that his programme might well be the key to uploading the human consciousness and personality onto the Internet. It's the sort of thing that attracts the attention of people other than Tilde's client: for example, Lemon Computers, the dead programmer's former employers, who are quite keen to get their data back.
As a plot, I was expecting this to be far more direct than it turned out to be. While the action does keep moving at a fairly brisk pace, it does so in a rather indirect manner; it seems to move Tilde and the other characters from set piece to set piece quickly, but few of these set pieces clearly advance you in figuring out the plot as a whole. It's a weird mix of action and mystery that I want to define as a thriller, but can't quite commit to. There's also a romance sub-plot that actually works really well within the context of the novel: it's in no way sappy or sentimental, and it fits perfectly with what we know about the character of Tilde.
The characters are, for the most part, kind of uneven. Tilde and her love interest introduced later in the book are the ones that are developed the most, and it really shows. For those two, their dialogue and relationship seem organic and subtle; most of the other characters are given 2-4 chapters in the entire narrative to really interact with Tilde, which doesn't leave much room for fantastic character development. I kind of wish that some of the characters could have been saved for a later book in exchange for more development time. The same goes for a fair few plot elements that are introduced as events progress, but aren't really examined too closely due to lack of space. If given the choice of two extremes, then I would rather plump for too many ideas in too little space as opposed to the other way around, but it's still mildly disappointing when it happens.

Ultimately a fun, fast-paced novel that is let down a little bit by the odd pacing and the author's attempt to try and include too many ideas for the 300 pages that he was given. Probably one to recommend to cyberpunk fans who are looking for something a little less cerebral. One to miss if you aren't fond of adult situations or language. 4/5

Next review: Discord's Apple by Carrie Vaughn

Signing off,
Nisa.

Zorro by Isabel Allende

Seriously, who wouldn't pick up a book chronicling the origin story of El Zorro, aka Diego de la Vega? The image of the swashbuckling bandit fighting for justice is one that has endured since 1919 for a reason. Having enjoyed Allende's The House of the Spirits, I could see no real reason to pass up the opportunity to try this incarnation of Zorro. 

From what I can gather, Zorro was written with the intent that it lead on cleanly into the old pulp novels, whilst being a lot more consistent and adventurous with its subject matter. The novel chronicles the first twenty years of Diego's life, including his first adventures as Zorro. That as an idea isn't a bad one; an origin story is always a good bet if you're looking to re-examine or re-invigorate an old character, as superhero movies can testify all too well. And this is an origin story that is written very well indeed. It has only one flaw. It starts far too slowly. When I say that Zorro covers the first twenty years of his life, the reader is presented with something from almost every single one of them. Much as I realise that a large chunk of it adds to the character development of the main character, it means that the first 150 pages or so are a lot slower, as his childhood in California unfolds. After he leaves for Spain, the proceedings do get more interesting though. If you can, I would stick out the slow beginning, because the warmth and humour that emerges as the story goes on are well worth the effort. The other, smaller issue that I have is that it ends in a way that feels almost incomplete: it makes sense to end where it does, but at the same time it's really obvious that you're supposed to find the original novels afterwards as a kind of "true" ending. 

The characters are incredibly well-written. The main ones that we follow throughout the novel are Diego, Bernardo and the de Romeu sisters. Diego, obviously our main protagonist, is pretty much everything you've come to expect from Zorro: handsome, dashing, cunning and with a strong moral core tempered by vanity. I was expecting more of a ladies' man, but that only comes in towards the end, when he is beginning to get more comfortable with his Zorro persona; before that his attempts at seduction and courtship are simultaneously laughable and endearing. Bernardo is Diego's brother in everything but blood, an Indian who acts first as his double, then, after an event that renders him electively mute, as his shadow. He was a nice enough character, but I didn't really find much about him to really get excited about: he is the rock that stops the other, more vivid characters from making the story too absurd. The de Romeu sisters are made up of Juliana, an innocent girl of extreme beauty and Diego's unrequited love throughout the majority of the novel, and Isabel, a tomboy who is as fiesty and dashing as Diego as well as a seriously good judge of character. Juliana wasn't really my kind of character: well-written certainly, but the kind of romantic that I tire of incredibly quickly. Isabel, on the other hand, was possibly my favourite character in the entire novel. It was her that I was rooting for, hoping against hope that she would get a happy ending. 

Overall, a solid read for anyone looking for a bit of adventure, if you're willing to look past a slow beginning and some odd pacing. For fans of Zorro, this is a no-brainer. 4/5 

Next review: This One's a Lemon by H. M. Gordon 

Signing off, 

Nisa. 

Paris Noir edited by Aurelian Masson

Having started a work experience placement, it seemed like a good time to try a short story collection again. And what better place to start than Paris Noir, a collection of noir detective fiction set exclusively in the arondissements of Paris? I have a fascination with the noir style and visuals, so this seemed like a perfect idea.

The thing that I forgot about was the main reason why I don't read short story collections so much: unless it's all by one author, then the tone and quality can be really erratic. There were several stories that made me sit back and think, "That wasn't noir, in any way, shape or form." The ones that spring to mind in particular were "The Revenge of the Waiters" by Jean-Bernard Pouy and "No Comprendo The Stranger" by Herve Prudon. The former had an interesting set-up, but quickly devolved into a farcical adventure by waiters, while the latter was one man's rambling journey up the Rue de la Sante as he talks about his health. There were, however, more than enough stories in the collection to justify buying the book.
The collection starts out strong with the stories of "The Chauffeur", in which the eponymous driver falls in love with the prostitute he transports, "The Chinese Guy", a story of sexual obsession, and "Big Brother", an unsettling account of a robbery, all in quick succession. After those three the collection tails off a bit, but there are still gems left before the end in the form of "La Vie en Rose" and "Precious"; both are accounts of the murder of a woman, but each with a very different emphasis and tone.

Overall, patchy in terms of tone, with most of the really good stories right at the beginning. Still not a bad read though, as Paris is definitely a city that suits the noir sensibility. Probably a good recommendation for someone who loves Paris, noir fiction or both. 3/5

Next review: Zorro by Isabel Allende

Signing off,
Nisa

The Baker Street Phantom by Fabrice Bourland

If there's one thing that is guaranteed to grab my attention, it's Sherlock Holmes-related books. So The Baker Street Phantom was off the shelf and paid for almost as soon as I saw it. I do have high expectations of anything Holmes-related though, so how did this one hold up? 

I wanted to like this, I really did. And at first I thought I would. The Baker Street Phantom follows Messrs. Singleton and Trelawney as they attempt to solve a series of strange events at 221 Baker Street: is it truly a haunting, and how does it relate to a series of grisly murders in London? As a synopsis, it's fantastic, with the potential for a multi-strand mystery and the exploration of the more mystical side of Arthur Conan Doyle's life. And then it just sort of got everything wrong. 

So, the story is kicked off by a visit from Lady Conan Doyle who believes that her husband's ghost is haunting the house that has been renumbered as 221 Baker Street. So far so good: the mysticism aspect is introduced because of her belief, and the possibility of a more rational explanation is present. Lady Conan Doyle then states that she believes that the haunting is linked to several recent murders, many of which are reminiscent of literary villains. Now, I don't necessarily mind that she brought it up, as it might seem connected to her; what I don't understand is why Singleton and Trelawney automatically accept this, with no proof whatsoever. From then on the plot just gets sillier and more absurd, to the point where I have to call false advertising: the blurb promises something akin to a cosy mystery, whereas it actually turns into more of a supernatural romp, certainly not what I thought I was buying. 

Another failed aspect of the novel is the characterisation of Singleton and Trelawney, as it is pretty much absent. Both can be summed up in a sentence. Singleton is the cynic-turned-believer obsessed with the mother he never met. Trelawney is the useless member of the group that no-one can bear to turn away because he's just so gosh darned nice. It honestly feels like they're the fifth and sixth wheels in their own book, which is never a good thing. 

Overall, this is just incompetent. I really wanted to like this, but Bourland sort of sabotages his own book in the eyes of the fanbase that he is attempting to attract. The whole allure of Holmes is that everything is so logical and rational in its solution: for The Baker Street Phantom to essentially flip the bird at that is very annoying. While there's nothing truly offensive about it, it is pretty much devoid of anything good. 1/5 

Next review: Paris Noir edited by Aurelian Masson. 

Signing off, 

Nisa. 

Titus Andronicus by William Shakespeare

I was quite looking forward to this. Much as I like things with a bit of subtext to them, I am also a bit of a fan of gore and violence on occasion. So, with one of the goriest of Shakespeare's plays in front of me, how could I resist? 

The plot of Titus Andronicus starts in the days following the death of the Roman Emperor, with the deceased's sons, Saturninus and Bassanius, arguing about who should inherit their father's throne. Returning from war with the Goths with prisoners in tow, the eponymous Titus breaks up their argument, lending his support to Saturninus who is then crowned Emperor. So far so good. The newly crowned Saturninus then makes known his desire to marry Lavinia, Titus' daughter; at this point, Bassanius absconds with her, stating that she was already betrothed to him, accompanied by Titus' four sons. Bereft of his bride, Saturninus decides that instead of Lavinia, he will marry Tamora, the Goth Queen amongst Titus' prisoners. The same woman whose son Titus sacrificed in honour of his dead sons. I'm sure you can see why the prospects of Titus and his family aren't great from that point onwards. 

If you are going to read Titus Andronicus for anything, then I would say that it should be for the character of Aaron, Tamora's Moorish lover. He is unashamedly evil, adding to the suffering of the Andronici with obvious glee. Highly unpleasant, but an absolute joy to watch: why else would he get all the great speeches? This is amply shown in Hugh Quarshie's performance in the BBC adaptation, so much so that I almost wanted him to win. Not quite, but almost. 

The adaptation overall was pretty solid, with decent make-up effects and very solid acting, especially from figures like Trevor Peacock and Edward Hardwicke. There was an odd focus on the largely incidental character of Young Lucius, although I can see that they were trying to show how much damage is done to the Andronici through him. I thought it was kind of moot though, considering what happens to Lavinia in the course of the play. 

Definitely worth watching or reading, so much so that I will be looking to get the Julie Taymor adaptation with Anthony Hopkins. Possibly not for those with weak stomachs, and especially those for whom rape is a no-go area. Otherwise I would definitely recommend it to Shakespeare fans. 4/5 

Next review: The Baker Street Phantom by Fabrice Bourland 

Signing off, 

Nisa. 

Worldstorm by James Lovegrove

I picked this up in Hay-on-Wye, I had no real preconceptions. I could just about gather that it was a fantasy novel, but otherwise the blurb was spectacularly unhelpful. Now that I've finished it, I have very little idea of how to express what opinion it left me with.

The plot of Worldstorm is a tad difficult to explain, simply because the narrative doesn't really act like a traditional fantasy narrative. On the one hand, it does initially follow a quest-style fantasy narrative. In it, Elder Ayn, a scholar who has mastered the ability to see into his own future, sets out into the world with his scribe Khollo, in order to find a way to stop the destruction of the eponymous Worldstorm. To do this, he must find two additional companions: Gregory, a boy who has bucked the family trend by not having fire-based powers, and Yashu, an islander seemingly without powers of any kind. That seems straightforward enough, until I consider the pacing. In most novels, fantasy or not, the main characters are usually forced to team up within the first few chapters. Not so here; instead, it takes nearly 3/4 of the narrative to get everyone together. In the meantime, each of them are essentially having their own mini-adventures. Don't get me wrong, these aren't bad story-lines in and of themselves, they just didn't feel like they really should have meshed together as they did.
The characterisation and world-building are fantastic. Each of the main characters, as well as a few of the secondary characters that pop up, are fleshed out fantastically within a world that has been explored and thought out in incredible detail. The world is one where element-based powers are the norm, almost acting as races, with all the unfortunately inevitable tension that arises from their misunderstandings of one another. It is also a world blighted by the Worldstorm, an untiring storm that constantly travels across the globe, leaving destruction in its wake. The way these characters interact with the world is what kept me reading until the confusing and unsatisfying ending. First, there is Elder Ayn who has lived the majority of his life secluded in Stonehaven, an academic sanctuary for those with Air-Inclined powers; whilst there he realises that he is inherently dissatisfied with what he has achieved in life, prompting him to leave on a journey to destroy the Worldstorm. He initially appears to be solemn and dignified, but it soon becomes clear that he is an incredibly flawed man, often unable to see that what he sees as reasonable and justified is actually thoughtlessly cruel. Second is Khollo, a young man with the ability to remember everything from the age of 13 onwards with perfect clarity and accuracy. He's quite understated and quiet, but by the end he was my favourite by far, simply because of his good heart and intentions. Third, there is Gregory, a boy who finds that he has the Earth-based power of regeneration and heightened durability, despite having been born to a pure-bred family of Fire-Inclined. The sense of bitterness that he feels for being sent away after his family find out about his abilities is entirely understandable, and he is otherwise an admirable character who is easily the one who suffers the most by the end. Finally, there is Yashu. She's probably the only character that I felt was horribly misused. Her characterisation is brilliant, that of a no-nonsense and practical girl who is nonetheless incredibly sheltered. I just think that her character had so much potential that wasn't used. In order to explain, I will need to spoil the ending somewhat. You're free to skip if you want.

***SPOILERS START*** 
So, at the start it looks like Yashu exhibits no powers, a state of being that the majority of society look down on. It turns out though, that she just happens to have a different inclination to that of the other people on the archipelago that she lives on: while other people have Water-based powers, she can tell when people are lying, a power that is associated with Air. As a power, there are so many things that you can do with that. Unfortunately, it's pretty much ignored, used only as a means to make her an opposite of Gregory. And then she gets pretty much reduced to a baby-maker. I appreciate that one of the wonderful things about being a woman is the ability to create life, I get that. But at the same time it frustrates me that you can boil down Yashu's role to one of "she got pregnant", when she could have had so many other interesting adventures. It's kind of a pet peeve.
***SPOILERS FINISH*** 

Overall, this is a novel that has a lot of good things that helped me finish reading it. Unfortunately, it has just as many bad things, meaning that I can only look at it and think how it could have been so much better. Ultimately, it started off well, but the author just failed to bring the characters' individual stories together in a satisfactory way. 3/5

Next review: Titus Andronicus by William Shakespeare

Signing off,
Nisa.

The Late Hector Kipling by David Thewlis

This was a weird purchase for me. I'm more familiar with David Thewlis' work as an actor, specifically his work in the Harry Potter films, so when I found out that he'd written a novel I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I like what I've seen of him. On the other, I only knew him as an actor, so there was no real guarantee of whether he'd be as good in a different profession. But I decided to pick it up anyway, because I've started reading something on far worse expectations before.

The Late Hector Kipling is an odd book, to say the least. It follows the catastrophic fall of the eponymous Hector Kipling, an artist known for painting giant heads. He starts the novel in that odd place found by those who are moderately successful: famous enough that the name rings a bell, but not quite successful enough to be widely known and discussed. In comparison, he has two other artist friends: Kirk Church, a failed artist obsessed with painting cutlery, and Lenny Snook, an artist up for the Turner Prize (and very much in the vein of Damien Hirst and Tracey Emin). So far, so innocuous. It is only when Kirk announces that he has a brain tumour that Hector's life starts to spiral out of control.
The characters populating this book tend to fall into one of two categories: unlikeable or just kind of bizarre. In the first category, there is Hector himself, as he manages to single-handedly destroy his whole life through the combination of selfishness, cowardice and a weird apathy and detachment towards others. He is not wholly detestable though, which helps things hugely. Most of the other characters tend to fall more in the bizarre category, simply because of their oddly two-dimensional natures. This might be because of Hector's strange outlook on things though, which could bring up some interesting discussions.
As to who I would recommend this to, there are a few things to consider. The writing is, on the whole, pretty damn good. It can get a bit overly-snobbish when it comes to art, but then that fits Hector's character as a second-rate artist. At the same time, it does have quite a bit of bad language, which may bother some. And overall, there are some very strange, if interesting, metaphors sprinkled liberally through the narrative. So there's that to consider. If you're on the fence, I would say give it the benefit of the doubt. I would definitely recommend it if you've been looking for an author similar to Will Self, although I would say that David Thewlis is perhaps more accessible than Self is.

A part of me is still a little nonplussed by The Late Hector Kipling, but I am definitely glad that I read it. I'd try it if you're a Will Self fan, or if you're trying to work yourself up to him. If I were to see more of Thewlis' work, then I would be more than happy to read it. 3.5/5

Next review: Worldstorm by James Lovegrove

Signing off,
Nisa.