Earthlight by Arthur C. Clarke follows the story of the Moon and its residents as they are caught in the middle of an interplanetary war of politics and fighting. Set in a time where Man has begun to colonize even the most distant planets, an uneasy alliance has been struck between resource-poor but research-rich celestial bodies and Earth, stingy with her metals and even more careful with her money. As a political entity, the Federation, begins to form against Earth's strict policies, innocent men and women, scientists and civilians alike, all begin to feel the tensions rising, beginning to boil over.
Arthur C. Clarke is a brilliant writer and a master of sci-fi. He's got a great grasp on how to blend science, plot, and loveable characters. His books are easy to read and understand, and it continues to amaze me how a book with less than 200 pages can have all the depth and ingenuity as one double the size.
This book had a much larger cast of 'main' characters than the other books of his I have read. It had one leading character, but at least 3 others that were important too. I found myself invested in different plots, and loved seeing the way they all worked together. It was really nice to feel like we always got to read about the center of the action, but that one man wasn't always experiencing it. My main criticism on these books is that there's just not a whole lot of women. I understand that this is 50s and 60s we're talking about, but for Clarke, who I have read some things that do seem quite progressive, it's just a bit disappointing.
Earthlight had a much more politics-heavy approach to sci-fi, which unfortunately isn't my favourite trope. It was a lot of talking, a lot of theorizing, and a lot of twists and turns. While not inherently bad, in a short book, it just felt like we were being pushed and pulled back and forth. It didn't have the same magic of space that I really have come to love in Clarke's work, and didn't focus on the science or the discovery as much as I wish it would have. There was definitely action in this book, and if I had read this as my first book of his, I likely would have rated it higher, but as it stands, it just fell a little bit short for me.
Fans of Isaac Asimov's Foundation will really enjoy this one, as well as anyone who finds themselves looking for a more political, real world sci-fi book.
Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for feedback!
Blood Over Bright Haven by M.L. Wang is a standalone story. Dark academia and magical fantasy blend together seamlessly, in a book that isn't afraid to touch on more difficult topics like racism and sexism. It follows the story of female mage, Sciona, and her unlikely friend, Thomil, living in the magic-fueled city of Tiran, run by mages who look out for themselves. And only themselves. Worlds collide, and people change, in an emotionally packed story about love, hope, rebellion, and loss.
This book wrecked me.
Sciona was a loveable character, with admirable morals and a frustratingly ignorant view of the world. No matter how uninformed she was, I never hated her. She was a product of her environment, just like Thomil. He had so much depth to him, and while he was frustratingly patient at times, he never acted in a way I found unrealistic or off-putting.
The books willingness to talk so much about sexism, racism, and real problems we face in our society surrounding religion and moral compasses never felt stifling or restricted. There were some parts that felt too on the nose, some parts that felt overplayed or too harsh for the sake of making a commentary. I can't fault the book for this. It made me uncomfortable, and I believe that that was exactly what it wanted to do. So many of these problems are so deeply rooted in the city of Tiran (and by extension all of its citizens) but it never feels forced, it felt organic and executed in a way that showed how many years it had had influence over the people. There was a large chunk about struggles with mental health in this book as well that featured some scenes or thoughts that could be triggering to some readers. While they were handled incredibly well in my opinion, it's an important thing to check before starting this book.
M.L. Wang's writing is effortless. Information dumps felt like plot points, world building interweaved into the story seamlessly. It was an amazing, heartbreakingly beautiful story. There is some serious talent in being able to so vividly craft a world like Tiran and not have your book be over 800 pages. The academic properties, the magic, the politics on which the city stand are such an integral part of the story without just being an information slog. Despite all of the backstory we needed, the pacing was still really good. Characters could explain things for a page or two without feeling like they'd been going on forever, and I didn't feel like I was talked at nor did I find myself skimming these sections.
Fans of dark academia will absolutely sink their teeth into this one, and I promise that the build up is worth it, in an emotional gut-punch that will linger in your mind in the best way possible.
I would give anything to read it again for the first time.
Kings of the Wyld is, quite possibly, the best fantasy book I have ever read.
It reads like a D&D adventure, comes together with all the love and care of a carefully crafted world and the characters that fit within it. This is a book that every party wants their adventure to be like, it is a book that perfectly encompasses the ups and downs of a tabletop adventure, the chaos, the magic, the laughs, and the sadness. The humour is crude, but the emotions are real, and I felt like I knew each and every one of the people that showed themselves on a page.
I cried and I laughed, and reading this book took me right back to my roots, to the wild stories I always read as a kid and to the fantasy adventure I had been craving as an adult. Eames perfectly encapsulated the genre of adult fantasy here - who says that everything has to be so serious all the time just because it's meant for adults? The crude humour and the shocked laughter only added to the world, and it made our group of ragtag old men seem all the more real.
The worldbuilding was immense and amazing, and it left the entire world open to imagination. This was one of many adventures that could happen in this area, and as a DM myself, I'm almost tempted to use the map for my next campaign. It wasn't built around our characters, it was crafted perfectly and our characters were built with the tools to survive it.
This was a reckless, fun, and emotional adventure, and I can not reccommend it enough. To those who love to read, to those who need adventure, or to those who wouldn't mind reading about their dad getting to wield the biggest sword he could physically carry (or any dads who would like to wield a similar size sword). If you like anything fantasy, this book is for you. I promise you, it will not disappoint.
Foundation is a book about politics. It's a book that is set in space, with some effort to call it space politics, but it's still just politics, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. It's not just board meetings and policies being made, there is action in the story and within the plot. But it's a lot of politics. I have no problems with a political book, or with a commentary on politics in space. I just don't think that this was done extremely well. In most of the conversations or discussions about demands, you could replace them asking for 'plutonium' or 'gold' with 'oil' or 'money' and bam, it's the exact same politics we have on Earth today. I didn't feel like it was overly inventive or ground breaking. Other than to say that book was set in space, I honestly didn't feel like we talked about space all that much, or the implications it had on the politics of this universe. The existence of the Foundation and its motivations were really cool! Until the founder revealed it had all been basically an elaborate hoax, and haha! Now there's another colony! And then the Foundation radically religion-ized and it just sort of lost some of the purpose it had overall.
Also, this book featured four women. Over 231 pages, five different sections, six different main characters, and a plethora of side characters, there were four women. They were: 1. a hotel receptionist who didn't speak 2. an elevator attendant who also didn't speak 3. a woman was trying on some jewellery that one of our main character's made, and who said maybe 10 words 4. a woman who was married to an important man and blackmailed. she spoke a few sentences, but lasted about 2 pages. That's it. I know that this book was written in the 50s, but the jarring lack of women in this world is honestly just so offputting and really weirdly obvious. It's worth mentioning because after the 5th white guy in a position of power prancing around with his cigars and his war ships, I just started to realize how little the women in this world actually mattered.
It was a decent book - I read it, I didn't dislike it. But I wouldn't read it again, and I wouldn't have read it to start with if I had known what it would be like.
"I'm not a Sarah J Maas girly, I only read some of her books, they're not even that good!" - me, at some point before reading Crown of Midnight
Oh, how wrong I had been about this book. Following the first book, Throne of Glass, I didn't have immensely high hopes for anything other than an interesting assassin story and some political bullshit intrigue. But this book absolutely pushed past those expectations. I'm okay with being a SJM fan after this one.
I've been saying this since I read ACOTAR (which was nowhere near as good as the ToG series), but SJM is an absolutely FANTASTIC worldbuilder. I've never come away from any of her books with questions about consistency or plotholes, and really the only thing I want to know about her worldbuilding is: How does she do it?
It's an absolute joy to read. Every time. Coupled with her writing style, which is easy to digest and flows off the page like a silver-tongued drug, I couldn't put this book down. I really mean it when I say I enjoyed every twist and turn, when I found myself biting the back of my hand to keep myself from squealing or gasping out loud in an airport. The emotions I felt were real, and I felt them with every character. I felt sadness at every death, anger at every injustice, happiness at every eye of the storm.
Sure, there are some parts that aren't my favourite. I could do without the muddled up love triangle (that looks like it's going to be dropped after the first two books anyways, thank god), or without the overeager tendency to reference the sex she has (or how much she's having). It's not explicit, but it's not my cup of tea anyways.
All that being said, none of this was enough to make me dislike any parts of the book. SJM never dwelled on it for long enough to make me feel like it needed to be hurried up, and I will admit that I am a Chaol enjoyer, and giggled at least twice while reading some of those scenes. Probably more. Definitely more.
I'm off to read the Assassin's Blade! And really, knowing myself, to order a box set of these books before I finish the series.
I definitely put off on a writing a review for this for a while because I just wasn't sure what I wanted to say, or how to say it. In 153 pages (give or take), this book has made me feel so much emotion, and has given me so much to talk about that talking about any of it just feels... tough.
To be Taught if Fortunate is a book about space travel, hope, love, and mystery. It follows a group of astronauts as they aim to complete a mission that will take them away from Earth for upwards of 80 years. They encounter challenges and trials, but they stick together. Delivered in the form of a communication with the universe asking the reader for help, To be Taught if Fortunate sucked me in and kept me engaged for hours.
First, what I did like. And what I did like, I loved. The characters stand at the top of this list. Becky Chambers wrote an effortlessly diverse cast of characters in race, gender, personality, and motivations. They all felt so layered and real. While each had their own archetype and their own niche to fill, never once did I feel like they boiled down to just that stereotype or like they reacted in ways that benefitted the story rather than made sense. This complexity of characters also translated into their relationships. I loved watching everyone, and watching them navigate each other as friends, lovers, and family. And it never mattered which of three they were at any one point, because they all loved each other, and you felt it through every moment of their interactions. The characters and their relationships were fluid, and it felt so natural and so integrated with the story that you never paused to question a second of it. The exploration and planets were all done very well for the most part. Each of the planets had a thing that made it unique, and a challenge for the characters to overcome. But the sections didn't feel reptitive - there was always some sense of danger or intrigue that kept us going and kept the characters guessing. She wrote time passing effectively, and while there were points that didn't quite communicate how many years had gone by, it was never confusing, just rushed. It was a book with 150 pages - I'll allow it. And the messages? The message to the reader at the start, and the request at the end... it was immersive. It was touching to feel like we were part of this story, and like we needed to help. I wanted to help, I felt their indecision, and even now, I feel some sort of... something. I know they're not real - there is no one out there who actually needs my help. But God, I want to help them. And that's an emotion I think is really hard to do effectively, and that Chambers managed.
What I didn't like is small, but it's worth mentioning anyways. Somaforming, the way they genetically modify the crew to adapt to these planets, it didn't work for me. It just felt too perfect, too convenient, and not scientifically backed up. They landed on a planet with higher gravity, so all of a sudden they're body builders. There was no reason for that, except to overcome the difficulties that come with space travel. It just felt like a cheap way to not have to force our characters into situations where they'd potentially be hurt or not well suited to the ground. It was small enough I could look past it, but it really bugged me when it was dwelled on. The only other thing worth mentioning was the planet 'Opera'. It was an interesting planet, covered with water and harsh storms, but it was clear to me that this planet was only put into this book as a way to explore our character's mental health and how they dealt with being trapped. The planet and the way that they approached it made no sense. There was a missing island that had been confirmed multiple times before they landed, but was never explained as to why it was missing. Then, the animals that covered their ship. On a planet covered in water, these animals never would have had a reason to evolve to go out of water. Minor, nitpicky things, but I have to mention them. And finally, the planet itself served no purpose. They left after a few months, not even able to get any data, and never should have touched down in the first place. But aside from some scientific inaccuracies, and some things that happened that were more often than not plot devices rather than logical, I was willing to look past these for an otherwise stunning book.
I loved this book, and wish I could read it again for the first time. If you're looking for a sci-fi book that focuses on characters rather than science, with hints of biology where it matters, this is for you. Even if you're not looking for that book, this is for you still. It was such a lovely read, and I loved adding it to my bookshelf.
Diaspar is an eternal city. Stuck within the narrow confines of infinity, doomed to repetition, Alvin is one of the first truly unique things that a computer program has produced. And just like with anything new, Alvin wants to break the mold a bit, and will change his entire people and their worldview to do it. A story of adventure, and mystery, The City and the Stars is a roundabout coming-of-age novel about exploration and about breaking the bounds of what we think is impossible.
I had a good time reading this book. Arthur C Clarke draws me in with his storytelling, and I love how he manages to pack in so much story and emotion without needing a brick of a book. I don't have to read chapters upon chapters of Jeserac's thoughts and character to still cry when he truly saw the stars, and I think that that is one of the most beautiful parts of Clarke's storytelling: he doesn't give us what we don't need.
Of all the books I've read of his, I enjoyed this one the least (though the 4.25 stars still indicates a pretty good book). When I read sci-fi, especially Clarke's sci-fi, I really come along for the science, for the characters, and for the story. This book has characters and story, but very little science. What we have instead is futuristic technology that isn't fully explained (because it doesn't need to be), and some telepathy powers that don't seem to have a core rooted in reality. I want to be very clear: none of this was bad. It was just a shift from what I have come to expect and love of Clarke's books, and it never once got in the way of a compelling and wonderful story. It just wasn't what I had prepared myself for.
Alvin, Jeserac, Khedron, Hilvar, they're all such fantastic characters with layers and genuine sustenance to them. They all had their own lives and stories, and just because Alvin was the main character, he was only the main character of this story. In another world, we read the story of Jeserac and all the lives he has lived before, encountering his first Unique, and learning how that changed him. It was lovely to get to learn everyone, to see them so willing to change and to embrace change, and to move forwards, not to stagnate.
The discovery of Lys and all that lie within was a beautiful and terrifying development. It opened up Alivin's horizons, literally, but trapped him in this in-between of unable to return intact, but needing to tell someone about what had happened. It was scary, but also super fun, and it was smart, reading about the ways he overcame every challenge. It was like reading a small series of quests, each more epic than the last. Never once could Alvin have acted alone, and never once did he try to. It was a perfect testament to teamwork and friendship.
This is definitely worth a read, especially if you're a sci-fi fan who's not so keen on the maths and science side of things.
Mars is a world full of promise, exploration, and potential. Martin Gibson, science fiction writer and curious mind, has the perfect chance to discover what makes Mars so unique, and to offer his hand in shaping the future of the planet.
Words can't fully describe how much I loved this book, but I will try anyways.
This was the second Arthur C. Clarke book I've read. Following Rendezvous with Rama, I didn't expect such a touching and heartfelt story, full to the brim with character development, emotion, and dotted throughout with science and discovery.
Martin Gibson was a great MC - he was relatable, complex, and full of passion and drive for the world he was a visitor to. We followed his development, from a science fiction author (who wasn't sure he wanted to be that anymore) sent to Mars to write some articles on their development, all the way to a man who would do anything to see the planet flourish and grow. He gave his all to the hostile environment of Mars, and it was genuinely so touching and so natural to see him make up his mind to stay, and to see him fight for the chance to remain. The relationship he fostered with Jimmy, and the friendships he made on the planet were tangible and real, and made the book all the more enjoyable.
Arthur C. Clarke is a master of suspense, of unrecognised curiosity, and of making the reader feel both fear and tentative excitement as he revealed more and more. The mystery surrounding Phobos, discovery of the secretive dome hidden from Earth, and the footpath that could never have been made by humans all made me feel genuine fear when I read about them, secrets half-revealed and unravelling more and more as we progressed further in the story. We were always slightly ahead of Gibson, but not by much; it made the mystery and the nerves all the more real, and kept me itching to keep reading, desperate to find out what came next.
Of course, not everything came fully to fruition - it's Arthur C. Clarke, and life would just be too perfect if he gave us complete endings to everything. But that doesn't mean that the explanations weren't just as satisfying.
We know that Gibson will eventually see his son again, and that that relationship will grow in time. We know that he will eventually likely be part of Mars' integral system and world, and he will fit in perfectly. We know that Mars will grow, will change, and will flourish, whether by manipulation of the plants and animals, or by man-made brute power. We don't need to see these things happen to know that they will, or to feel joy and excitement at their promise.
We were, however, given fantastic explanations and endings to the important things, like Gibson's ability to stay on Mars, Project Dawn, or the outlook of Earth on the small, red planet that was beginning to foster more and more life. We also met Squeak, and I can not explain how happy that little round alien made me, or its curious disposition and excitable nature. It was the perfect little friend and hopeful pet to find on an otherwise empty planet, and gave us (and the characters) hope for the future.
Of course, science and practical applications sprinkled throughout keeps the most keen sci-fi readers on the edge of their seat, a wonderful balance that Clarke has cultivated to keep everyone engaged, no matter what they're looking for in a story. It wouldn't be his work without it.
I loved this story. A book of hope, of wonder, of discovery and love, so much that I couldn't possibly hope to write it all down in one review. When I read it again, I know I'll love it just as much, and I know that it will carry the same magic no matter how many times I open its pages.