Book Review: Last First Snow by Max Gladstone

Every year in fantasy there comes what Jo Walton termed the “important book.” This is the book that’s everywhere, that’s reviewed by everyone in the genre, ends up on most of the critic best of the year lists, and creates a love-it-or-hate-it response from readers due to its polarizing nature. Last year the most obvious examples of important novels were City of Stairs by Robert Jackson Bennett and the Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer. Like Walton, I believe that there are some books that should have become important novels but simply never got the same level of attention they deserved. This year in fantasy has given us possible important novels (like The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu, Uprooted by Naomi Novik) but if given the choice for one that's likely to slip through the cracks, my vote is going to Last First Snow by Max Gladstone.

I’ve written about Gladstone before. As far as I’m concerned, his Craft Sequence is the most exciting new fantasy series published in recent years. Through this thematic series, Max Gladstone has used his magic system of the Craft and the Deathless Kings to explore issues relevant to our time: the tyranny of corporations, water shortages, the rise of secularization and its effect on religious fervor. His vibrant, diverse, and complex characters grapple with very modern problems in a world so much like our own. The most impressive thing about these books isn’t that they’re like reality—it’s how he manages to show how different his universe is while still revealing universal truths of the human condition, all while still telling an entertaining story. In this latest entry, Gladstone tackles his most political subject yet: protest.

In Dresediel Lex, the wards in the Skittersill are falling and if they do fall, it could literally set demons on the world. So to try and develop the area, the King in Red hires Craftswoman Elayne Kevarian to help negotiate a deal. The only problem is that the people of the Skittersill have their own plans for the future, and they have their own leader in Temoc, a priest of the old gods who’s taken to community organizing while trying to create a better future for his family. To quote the front flap: “Elayne and Temoc must fight conspiracy, dark magic, and their own demons to save the peace—or failing that, to save as many people as they can.”

This novel doesn’t sugarcoat its issues. Instead, Gladstone writes a complex, multi-layered story where there are no true heroes or villains. As in real life, sometimes the characters have to make deals with the opposing side despite feeling that they’ve compromised everything they’ve ever believed in. As in life, they all have a point. And as in life, they find no easy answers or solutions. Life is messy and so is the way things eventually end up in Last First Snow. The novel comes to a proper conclusion, if one that the reader may have wished could have been avoided. But it’s that staunch realism and brutal truth about life that the novel offers that makes it such a compelling read, if not a very optimistic one. Make no mistake: this is a very entertaining book, with lots of dramatic tension and action in the latter half. However, due to its serious subject matter and grey morality, it may not be the ideal choice for those looking for a light, escapist read.

As with every Craft Sequence entry, Last First Snow’s highlight is its characters. Returning to the series are Elayne, the King in Red, and Temoc. As this novel is set chronologically twenty years before Two Serpents Rise, Gladstone uses the events of the story to help develop Elayne and Temoc into the characters as we knew them in Two Serpents Rise and Three Parts Dead. While I’d always found Elayne to be one of the more interesting older female characters in fantasy literature, seeing her as the protagonist and seeing things through her own perspective humanized her in such a way that I can definitely say that she is easily my favorite Craft Sequence protagonist yet. Temoc is another I came to really understand and love through this book; while I may not have agreed with every choice he made, he remained sympathetic throughout the narrative. Kopil, the King in Red, is just as frustrating as he’s ever been; he makes good points and his choices are understandable, but they are still quite hard to forgive. Gladstone also introduces several new and interesting additions: Temoc's wife, Mina, a wonderful and determined woman; Chel, conflicted but strong; Tan Batac, born and raised in the Skittersill but has been away long enough to be considered the enemy by its people; and the Major, who was perhaps my favorite new character for the mystery surrounding this character and just how dedicated they were to the cause. (Though I was a bit confused by a certain revelation regarding the Major and just what the reader was supposed to have learned about the Major's identity.)

The prose is just as the other books are, so there’s not much to say there: the usual clipped sentences, with lots of fragments and one-line paragraphs. It’s a style that can get very frustrating, but it does work.

Diversity-wise, the novel can claim to feature two older protagonists. Both Elayne and Temoc are over fifty. Elayne is actually a rather rare breed in the fantasy genre: a female protagonist who is over fifty, unmarried, and childless who is portrayed as neither hating men nor children and is in fact the most fair-hearted person in the novel. Also, Temoc’s culture is heavily inspired by the indigenous cultures of America.

In summary, Last First Snow is a fantastic novel. It expands the fantasy genre in terms of character, setting, and plot choice. The style is easy to read and very compelling; the narrative gives just as much tension and suspense to court negotiations as to genuine action scenes. It’s not a novel for everyone, but it’s certainly worth a look. Perhaps the biggest flaw is just how slow the pace is for its first half, but once the halfway mark is passed, everything comes together. What it sacrifices in pacing it gains in perhaps the most well-developed cast of characters Max Gladstone has given us yet. If it doesn’t become one of the illusive “important novels,” it will certainly be one I and other likeminded readers will cherish—at least until the next one comes out. Highly recommended.

Score: 4.5/5

Film Review: Source Code (2011)

Hollywood science-fiction is often far from scientific or thoughtful. The emphasis has long been on action sequences, A-list actors, and big budget special effects. Most of these films tend to not contain much in the way of coherent plot or character exploration—the focus is always on the experience, not the substance. This is why I took interest in the 2011 film Source Code, which in some ways went against the grain. 

Directed by Duncan Jones (who had previously helmed his Sam Rockwell starring debut, Moon), it at first appears to be quite similar to typical Hollywood fare: Jake Gyllenhaal stars as the lead, Michelle Monaghan as his love interest, and the film contains “science” that would look implausible to a small child. Science-fiction does not necessarily have to be about science, however, as the late Roger Ebert would agree. I will credit Source Code for being written and acted out by a cast and crew who know just how silly the whole thing is, and rather than try to justify it self-consciously, they run with it. Due to the relatively small $32 million budget, there is less of an emphasis on action scenes, which works to the film’s benefit. 

Source Code opens with our lead, Captain Colter Stevens, waking up on a train. He has no memory of how he got there, he doesn’t know the woman sitting across from his seat, and he is just as confused as anyone would be when he comes to discover that he’s not even in his own body as he gazes into another man’s face in a mirror. It isn’t long before a bomb detonates, causing the train to explode. The film plays out as he assumes the identity of the man whose body he inhabits, that of schoolteacher Sean Fentress, as he uses a new, untested technology called the “source code” which allows him to go back into the memory of Fentress during the last eight minutes of his life to figure out just who detonated the bomb to prevent a terrorist attack on Chicago.

The film serves as a competently written thriller. Each character on the train is given a solid reason for why they may or may not have been the bomber. As Stevens only has eight minutes to find the bomber, he often has to go back to the beginning, interviewing each potential subject. Each scenario ends quite differently from the one before it, keeping things from getting too redundant. Intrigue abounds and the suspense never lightens, even if, like me, you quickly figure out the bomber’s identity. 

The performances by the actors are quite good. Jake Gyllenhaal gives one of his best performances, perfectly showing his anger, confusion, compassion, and regret; the script helps him, crafting Colter Stevens to be a legitimately well-rounded character, who responds to his environment in believable ways, with a solid backstory and motivation. Michelle Monaghan may be in a relatively limiting role as the love interest, but she makes do with what she has and brings a likability and friendliness to her character. My favorite performances, other than Gyllenhaal's, were from Vera Farmiga and Jeffrey Wright. Though they spend most of the movie inside their offices, mainly answering Stevens’s questions, they turn out to have their own agendas and character agency. 

Perhaps my one complaint with the film would be the ending. The film looks to end on a freeze-frame shot, which would have allowed it to have the picturesque Hollywood happily ever after, while also concluding the story in a way that wouldn’t have felt contrived. Instead, the story continues in a way that doesn’t feel quite so satisfying, throwing a curve-ball at the viewer that, while it wraps up some of the potential “what happened to this character?” questions, it also created new plot holes. 

But is it science-fiction? I would say it fits somewhere on the softest setting on the Mohs Scale of Science Fiction Hardness. The science is not even remotely scientific, but I’d say it would qualify as a form of old school social science-fiction. While the plot wouldn’t work without the “source code” technology, it’s not explained in such a way that it’s the point of the story; it is only a means to an end. Rather, the narrative, while plot-driven, focuses primarily on the implications of what using such a technology would mean for its users. 

In summary, Source Code is a Hollywood film that lives up to its premise: well-acted, sound direction, competent script, only really let down by its ending. As it stands, this is a good film to show someone who feels the most important element of science-fiction is that it be “plausible” that not being scientific can still lead to a solidly crafted story. 

Score: 4/5 or 8/10

Album Review: Froot by Marina and the Diamonds

2015 has been a generally safe year for pop music. Most new releases have tended toward repeats of what we’ve gotten on the charts rather extensively in the last few years, but the only record I’ve enjoyed this year thus far has been the album by Marina and the Diamonds.

Marina Diamandis first caught my attention in early 2013, when I decided to look over the most popular pop music albums released in 2012. Her sophomore release, Electra Heart, was one of those listened. My personal opinion was that the album was relatively mediocre—I’m no fan of Dr. Luke’s production skills, and the songwriting felt a bit weak. But since this year hasn’t impressed me much in terms of film, music, or literary releases, I’ve had to lower my standards for enjoyment, which is how I stumbled upon the album:

Titled Froot and released March 13, 2015, Diamandis has crafted a record that feels both catchy and accessible while also personal and introspective. This is mainly due to Diamandis abandoning the hitmakers, choosing instead to work with a single producer (in this case, David Kosten) and writing every song herself. Musically, it holds solid: the opening ballad, “Happy,” may seem like an odd choice, but the muted production and close, intimate vibe through vocals and the piano playing serves as a solid introduction to Diamandis’s songwriting and her soft, beautiful vocals. The rest of the record are ballads and more uptempo pop tracks, with some expressive melodies; some songs ("Weeds") contain excellent background harmonies. This works for me because no two songs sound exactly alike. As all were written and composed by Marina Diamandis herself, she proves to have impressive songwriting skills.

The best quality of the album are Diamandis’s lyrics—this is a record where she pours her heart out. Subjects include breakups, self-esteem, new love, and, in the final two tracks, human nature. These are obviously serious subjects, and they are handled with grace and care. Diamandis for the most part has a very gentle and sympathetic tone, never lecturing; even in the nihilistic “Savages,” where she laments humanity’s obsession with war and inequality, she paints herself just as much a part of the human race she is condemning. Lyrically this song also contains my favorite lines:

Underneath it all we’re just savages

Hidden behind shirts, ties, and marriages.

How can we expect anything at all?

We’re just animals still learning how to crawl

And:

Is a human trait or is it learned behavior?

Are you killing for yourself or killing for your savior?

Perhaps my favorite part of the album was Marina Diamandis herself. She is an excellent vocalist: her voice glides perfectly over her melodies, with perfect enunciation and tone. Her voice is expressive, giving off joy, regret, sadness, and horror. Her operatic vocals on “Savages” gave me vibes of Kate Bush. 

Taken as a whole, Froot is an accomplished release by a talented singer-songwriter who deserves more success than she’s seen thus far. I’ve never heard her debut, The Family Jewels, but perhaps I should since other critics have said that album is closer to this one. It’s not perfect—the track order feels off, while the titular track, “Froot,” and a song or two just don’t work. But what it does accomplish it does very successfully. I give this a glowing recommendation.

Favorite tracks: “I’m a Ruin,” “Forget,” “Can’t Pin Me Down,” “Weeds,” “Savages,” and “Immortal”

Score: 4/5 or 8/10