This video is a collection of my four previous Darkest Dungeon videos released over the last two months. Glad to put this one behind me! Next up, I’ll be tackling Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey and the excellent Control.
Romance isn’t my genre but the myth of Hades and Persephone has always stuck with me. What Lore Olympus does is, it reimagines the gods as living in modern society, with all that entails — technology, complex relationships, hints of egalitarianism that somehow fiercely contrasts with half the panels with Zeus in them, and more. It’s a distinctly late-2010s sort of comic book, distinctly American in the way it deals with some heavy topics and that’s no criticism on my part.
The chemistry between Persephone and Hades is incredible and without a doubt the webcomic’s driving force but there’s a lot more going on. Side characters get entire issues for their stories, such as the Eros/Cupid-Psyche side plot. Further, mysteries are introduced one after the other, making the world feel multi-layered and unique in unexpected ways. Surprises abound over the 80 or so issues of this comic.
And the art? Gorgeous, it has this pastel quality to it that is nothing short of breathtaking. I even made a pinterest board with a few of my favourite panels! Check it out, if you’d like!
I love it, I do, I do, I do! And I can’t wait for more Olympian mischief, chaos and godly fun. Oh, yes, the humour is…it’s really good. The art works in tandem with every joke (and sets a fair few up all on its own) and it nails each and every bit of comedic set-up has great pay off.
Love those modern-day Olympians!
For my closing note, what astounds me most of all is, this is all the work of one single creator, Rachel Smythe. Rachel is chock-full of talent, that’s wot I think.
You know what this one reminds me of? Kirkman’s Invincible and Bendis’s Ultimate Spider-Man. It might not be a superhero comic book but it threads similar ground – characters find themselves possessing great power and forced into doing something with it for everyone’s But it’s got the same quality of sleek, fun supporting characters and the art really reminds me of the expressive quality of Cory Walker’s illustrations.
Joe is a chimera, a champion of nature capable of transforming himself in different animals — to start with. A chimera’s abilities are pretty effin’ cool, let me tell you that. Reminds me a bit of Malazan’s D’ivers and soletaken — especially one character whose chimera ability allows him to transform into a mischief of rats.
The first season was amazing. While it tackles with a lot of familiar ground that superhero comics go through, like the young protagonist hiding his powers and flaking out on his friends and family, I thought this particular aspect of Joe’s story was handled well and the resolution came about naturally.
The second season has only recently begun but already it’s got me hooked!
Crazy revelations, cuteness, bloody murder and some serious psychological warfare on our main character all make for a great story that’s well worth the time investment. And the art is, as you’ve probably gathered by now, absolutely great. It really does remind me of Invincible but with a hint of something else there — and the colour gammut has a lot of these gorgeous amber and browns contrasted with the most stunning light blue that just spells trouble for everyone. Another one on my weekly list and it deserves to be on yours, too!
How about you? Any web comics you’re currently following with interest? Leave me a suggestion in the comments below! And if you’ve read any one of these two, tell me what you thought about them, what you loved, what didn’t quite work for you.
See you next time, Reader!
There I go, giving my plans away again. It can’t be helped now, can it?
First WordPress, then the world.
Thank you all for joining me in this journey to PANDEMONIUM™!
Hullo, everyone! For today, I don’t have a book post for you all — forgive me, I have failed the sacred bond of trust between us. I did, however, make a video!
It’s about Darkness, and Dungeons, and the Darkest one among them!
This review is posted in full over at booknest.eu! It’s my longest ever review, and I’m wondering whether to publish each of the short stories as a separate blog post over here at the Reliquary. What do you think?
Anyway, here goes:
Abercrombie’s prose is exceptional. His First Law novels are as successful as they are not only because of the unforgettable characters and the breathtaking twists, or because of the brutal world he’s created, one of the sheerest bloody realistic depictions of a world I’ve ever encountered. He’s one of my favourite authors, and for good reason – I’m not pledging to be impartial, but I will do my best to contain my enthusiasm over the next few paragraphs! Okay, lots of paragraphs. Lots and lots of paragraphs.
I’ll say a few words about each of the short stories in the collection, starting off with whether it’s recommended or downright necessary to have read any of the First Law stand-alone novels to get what’s going on.
A Beautiful Bastard
Colonel Sand dan Glokta is a bastard. To anyone who’s read the First Law trilogy, that’ll come as no surprise. He’s a damn likable bastard too, owing to the fact that he tends to wax poetical about life and it’s many and terrible injustices, which Glokta goes on to perpetrate in the course of one of the finest fantasy trilogies. A Beautiful Bastard is before all that, before the Gurkish got their hands on the finest fencer of the Union and ruined his body. Hours, if not minutes before, to be exact – this story takes place on the day when Glokta’s self-aggrandizement leads him to lead a doomed defense on a bridge being overrun by the Gurkish.
The story draws you in quickly enough, and then it thrashes you around with one of the finest descriptions I’ve ever read:
But Glokta was an utter bastard. A beautiful, spiteful, masterful, horrible bastard, simultaneously the best and worst man in the Union. He was a tower of self-centred self-obsession. An impenetrable fortress of arrogance. His ability was exceeded only by his belief in his own ability… Glokta was a veritable tornado of bastardy, leaving a trail of flattened friendship, crushed careers and mangled reputations in his heedless wake.
His ego was so powerful it shone from him like a strange light, distorting the personalities of everyone around him at least halfway into being bastards themselves. …most committed followers of the Gurkish religion were expected to make the pilgrimage to Sarkant. In the same way, the most committed bastards might be expected to make a pilgrimage to Glokta. …He had acquired a constantly shifting coteries of bastards streaming after him like the tail after a comet. (5-6)
This is exactly the kind of Abercrombie prose that shines and glitters on the page. The ironic undertone, the sheer emotional charge of it; and at the end of the day, it encapsulates his character at this point in time so well.
And of course, if the description wasn’t enough, Glokta finds a perfect way to show how much of a spiteful bastard he is to the only true friend he’s had, Goleem West, who just so happens to be one of the finest side characters Abercrombie wrote in the original First Law trilogy. Oh, and there’s Corporal Tunny who will be known to anyone and everyone familiar with The Heroes. He’s the best. And the worst.
This story was the perfect kick-off to an anthology filled with Abercrombie. My score for A Beautiful Bastard is 4.5/5 – because it’s the perfect comfort food of First Law stories, because the style and voice and prose are as sharp as the pointy end of Glokta’s steels but it doesn’t add any new, unknown dimensions to the tried-and-tested Glokta mix.
Do I need to read any of the standalone First Law novels to get what’s going on? Nope, this one is quite alright with First Law trilogy knowledge, or even without it!
“Small Kindnesses” introduces us to Shev, a thief of great skill and some renown, and to Javre, The Lioness of Hoskopp. A young Severard (one of Sand dan Glokta’s right-hand men) makes an appearance too, though it’s hardly something more than a cameo. Shev’ though barely entering her twenties, is already tired of the thieving life and is actively trying to get out of it when, of course, the local crime lord’s son has to drag her back into it. So Shev does a job – and she does it fairly well, top marks for the way the action scene is written and for Shev’s crabby luck – but some people just aren’t happy at all with what they get, and our thief ends up in a tight spot. There’s a lot going on in here, and Javre and Shev have incredible chemistry as soon as both are on the page together and conscious.
What’s even more excellent is, the story of Shev and Javre doesn’t end here – no, this is just the beginning of some of the wackiest adventures in the First Law universe! We’ll get back to them when we get back to them. 4.5/5 – because I know how much more hilarious the pair’s adventuring is about to get.
Hullo, followers! I’ve been meaning to get a pair of non-fantasy novel reviews out of the way, so here goes! But before I go all non-fantasy on y’all, I just finished a wonderful staple in early 20th century fantasy classic and I’m going to say a few words about it as well! #everythingiscontent
The Sword in the Stone by T. H. White
At last, I come across the work of famed English author, T. H. White! And this, the first book in his Arthurian tetralogy, was a delight. The Sword in the Stone sold me on White’s version of the Arthurian mythology due to two chief reasons – the humour and the characters.
The humour is anachronistic – thank Merlyn! Merlyn, who lives life backwards to everyone else, has such items in his hut such as a weapons rack brimming with modern weaponry, as well as degrees from all of Europe’s leading universities! He decries the state of the European education system in pre-Arthurian times quite a lot, he does, wot wot.
As for the characters, they are full of heart, good cheer, and no small amount of silliness, too! Take King Pellenor, for example, a ridiculous monarch with no land, no armies, not even a bed! He, however, has a task he unfailingly pursues, and that’s to search for the (terrible, question mark??? ) Questing beast. To our young protagonist, Arthur (affectionately called ‘The Wart’ by everyone in his foster father, sir Hector’s domain), King Pellenor is jolly good fun. The two become fast friends.
The Wart is wonderful, filled with that thirst for adventure that you just need to have in any proper Arthur! I’m looking forward to seeing what he’s like as a king in the next three novels!
I listened to this one as part of “The Past and Future King” audiobook, as narrated by Neville Jason. Wonderful, excellent work imbuing the characters with life!
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Spoilers for “Of Mice and Men” below.
How do you talk about a classic novella such as this one?
This one is about the friendship between two men, George and Lennie, childhood friends. George takes care of Lennie, who, although a large and inhumanly strong man, has the innocence of a child, and a child’s understanding of any given situation he is in. Terrible strength is, in this case, a curse.
I’ll not retell what happens, and I won’t shy away from the plot points – “Of Mice and Men” is a tragic story that presents the world as it was (and too often still is), cold and uncaring towards those who are born different and lacking what society deems as normal. Lennie’s child-like fear and actions is the engine that propels the story forward, forcing George and him to move from town to town, and ultimately forcing George to eutanise his friend. You understand why he does it, and whether you think the novella itself is good, great or not worth a damn… It’s heartbreaking. It’s tragic. And it’s an act of love.
Marx the Humanist by Muriel Seltman
I came across Muriel Seltman’s “Marx the Humanist” by accident while looking through the many, many different sections of NetGalley’s offerings. As an English Studies (Literature) bachelor’s, I’m interested in all sorts of different ideologies, anything that’ll give me a greater understanding of what moves human beings from a societal and ideological viewpoint. When it comes to Marxism, I know a fair lot more than about, say, libertarianism, because come from a family at least partially socialist. Or communist. Or Marxist. Honestly, it’s complicated.
Seltman’s novel gives an easy introduction to Marx’s ideas while also offering a thesis statement in the very title. “The Humanist” is broken down into four chapters, an appendix and an epilogue; the chapters first give a basic introduction to Marxism, through direct quotes from many of Marx’s works like “The Capital” and “The Communist Manifesto” co-authored with Engels. In addition to these passages, the author gives additional context or furthers certain arguments, to mixed effect.
It’s far from the most persuasive piece of historical (sociological, humanist) non-fiction I’ve read. Seltman too often abandons any attempts at convincing non-believers and nay-sayers, instead singing Marx’s praises into what, at worst, felt self-congratulatory. Some of the author’s arguments didn’t go far enough, either. It seems like Seltman couldn’t find a good enough balance between quoting passages and commenting on their own.
This is a good introduction to Marx’s ideas, thanks to well-chosen quotations, and a decent text by Muriel Seltman. Not quite 3 stars, not quite 4 — my score is 3.5/5 stars. Thanks to NetGalley and Troubador Publishing Ltd. for providing me with a review copy. Opinions are solely my own.
GAAAAAAH! Hello! I’ve been thinking about what book I’m most excited to read next, and it’s actually not a difficult decision at all.
It’s funny, too, because I’m reading Abercrombie’s Sharp Ends right now and rather than sate my appetite, this short story antology set in the First Law universe is making me all the more excited.
A Little Hatred picks up in the familiar world of the First Law, decades after the conclusion of our first trilogy, with a generation of new and, I assume, deeply flawed characters who will be coming into conflict with all-new threats to the Union. We’ll see familiar faces like Sand dan Glokta, King Luthar the Not-So-Blond-Anymore and who knows who else! Are you excited, I’m excited, me, me, me!
Joe Abercrombie’s writing only gets better and better and I am so looking forward to all the delightfully horrible ways in which this latest bloody book will blow my mind. No one writes quite like he does and I can never get enough of his words. They’re downright divine, if you ask me!
It’s coming out in just over a month and a half, on September 17! Who’s aboard the hype train with me?!
Kieron Gillen has written some of the finest comic books over the past decade. When I heard that he would be penning a new project that sees D&D and Jumanji come together, I was excited–thrilled, in fact! And when the first few pieces of art were revealed, I was ecstatic. Now, nine months after I first found out about DIE, I finally got Vol. 01: Fantasy Heartbreaker. The wait has been more than worth it.
The key concept behind DIE is the kind of idea that’s bound to win most RPG nerds over, and I stick to anything that has to do with ttRPGs like a bee to an unpollinated flower, so it was a match made in heaven from the get-go. But as a self-proclaimed expert on Kieron Gillen’s work, I’m also going to draw a comparison to some of his other work here, since DIE is thematically different and contrasts quite a bit with his other major recent work, WicDiv.
First off, who are our characters? A bunch of flawed, damaged individuals in their mid forties, all of them bound together by past tragedy and trauma but disconnected in every other way that counts. Dominic/Ash is our lead in this group of five, the tall blond bloke in the middle of the last panel from the page above, his character in the RPG gameworld a tall platinum blonde with the powers of a Dictator — “a diplomat with teeth. A cross between Cleopatra and Machiavelli” — definitely erring on the side of Machiavelli by the end of vol. 01.
The Dictator class has the power to control emotions with their voice; this power works kind of like Marvel’s Purple Man’s does but with a much greater degree of subtlety; it requires more ingenuity on Ash’s part, too. The other members of the party are Ash’s kid sister Angela, who plays a “cyberpunk” or Neo, which is basically a drug addict but instead of a human on crack, the Neo is addicted to Fae gold and as soon as she gets her hands on some, becomes a high-tech jet-pack wielding heavy-hitter (useless without any Fae gold, naturally); Chuck who plays the Fool and acts like one for the most part but is at the same time a pretty conniving guy; Matthew, who plays the Grief Knight, a warrior/paladin whose power comes from negative emotions; and Isabelle, the Godbinder, who used to be all edge and so wanted to be “some kind of atheist with gods for pets”. They each got a single many-sided die, each of them different from the others. The last one, the d20, went to Solomon — our sixth, the guy who came up with the game and who plays the Master.
Sccccarrrrrrrry, as Chuck would say.
Only, it’s not a game, and after rolling their dice, our party of teens disappears from the face of the world for two years, without a sign left behind. That was then, as the first panel makes clear. Now, twenty seven years later, drinking in a bar with his sister, Dominic gets a little something for his birthday — a certain familiar d20 in a package without a return address, only a criptic ‘happy birthday’ message on it. In spite of his first impulse being to smash the damned thing with a rock, Dominic decides it’s not his decision to make and instead brings the band back together to discuss options. Soon as the die is in the open, however, it doesn’t seem interested in anything the members of our party might have to say. One minute, they’re all in Chuck’s parlour and the next…
Shit gets real.
Now that our characters are back in the fantasy world they lost two years of their lives in, things are markedly different. The world is a hodge-podge of familiar fantasy and sci-fi tropes with their own unique spin; it has some horrifying, bleak parts but beautiful ones, as well. Unfortunately, most of those latter ones are poisoned by the past and the memories that come with it. Seems like in their past stay, our heroes made choices that were less than wise, the kind of choices that have a steep price for everyone involved.
A stark reminder of one such choice comes early on, and I won’t spoil it but let’s just say it shows a lot of Ash’s personality as well as the scope and depth of their powers. It’s a damn good scene and probably the one during which I fell in love with this story. It’s the sort of sequence that
Following the first issue, we’ve got some heavy world building in the second, then some fluffy world–building in the third, as Gillen himself describes it in one of the essays at the back of the volume (Guys! There are essays in the back of this volume! How cool is that?! I hope as all hell that’s something the next volumes of Die will also have!).
More about the world is showcased, and our characters shine in action. What’s there to say about it but…what brilliant, fantastic art! Dynamic, beautiful, downright stunning. Hans explains that she “cut the book into sequences, to which I assigned a colour gradient. Each has a meaning but almost all of issue one is a preparation of the double-page spread with the big reveal of the DIE world with intoxicating reds and vivid pure colours…ho, and space. All the sequences before that are bleak, almost claustrophobic; air is heavy, dark…” See, I was going to try and explain the difference as we build up to that reveal in the first issue myself, but Stephanie does it so, so much better. This is an excerpt from her essay, “The Space Between Words” on p. 181 of DIE Vol. 01. There is a lot there, in just over a page about her artistic choices, as well as the inspirations she drew from in designing this exciting cast.
This book would not be what it is without Stephanie Hans, that’s for sure. My recommendation? Get your hands on it, and do it quick! There’s so much to unpack on your own. What I’m giving this one is a full 5/5 on Goodreads, and a 10/10 in my heart.
Before I go though, I do want to take a minute to talk about the tonal difference between this and Wic/Div. While Wic/Div has always had a feeling of hopelessness underneath its loud, colourful surface (“Every ninety years, twelve gods incarnate as humans. They are loved. They are hated. In two years, they are dead.“), it’s still vivid, filled with neon-coloured characters imbued with a sort of joyful ‘fuck you’ manner towards a world that’s out to get them.
DIE is bleak and brooding, a darker place at its very surface. It twists familiar tropes to a degree that’s barely recognizable, and it asks some fascinating questions about our relationship with RPGs not only in terms of our agency inside these fantasy worlds but also what the effects of that agency are on us. It’s the sort of delightful, “when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back” logic I have a deep appreciation for. The answers…well, I’m looking forward to delving into those, myself.
Thanks for reading!
What you’ll get from a Terry Pratchett novel often corroborates to the work you put into reading it. If you’re looking for witty entertainment and humour, you’ll find them in spades, on the outermost layer of virtually all of his novels. When you dig in, there is so much more. Take Men At Arms, for example.
Pratchett’s fifteenth Discworld novel is about the dangers inherent to possessing power, in this here novel in the role of “the gonne”. It’s about racial conflict and how senseless it is. Prejudice, too. (Trolls are guilty. What for? They’re trolls! They’re guilty of something!) It’s about wolves, how they are, and how dogs think they are. It’s about a man who loves his job and feels like he has to give it up in order to be something else, and the lesson he learns.
But at the end of the day, it’s about another man, a simple man, a man trying to sell his sausages at prices that might as well be cutting his own throat.
For Captain Samuel Vimes, things are changing. Commander of the Night Watch, going through his last days on the force before his wedding to the richest noblewoman in Ankh-Morpork, Vimes is understandably a wee bit out of it. But fear not, the good old captain still has a few tricks left up his sleeve. Some of his story beats were delightfully subversive to ye oldé detective cliché, courtesy of the masterful Pratchett twists. In a moment familiar to all fans of detective stories and bad 80s cop movies in particular, Vetinari (Patrician of the city and scariest, cleverest, Machiavelliest man alive) demands that Vimes hand over his sword and badge. It’s funny but it serves to do more than just lark on a genre mainstay; it plays off of what we know about both Vimes and Vetinari’s characters, the one pushing the other’s strings. But even Vetinari isn’t immune to the occasional miscalculation. While attempting to manipulate the good captain, he pushes a shred too far. The result? We get to see the great Patrician squirm for a minute there.
Men At Arms had a few unexpected gut punches. Character deaths came sudden and unexpected, jarring me awake from what often felt like a pleasant reverie filled with Pratchett’s signature humor. Death, or the threat of it can certainly sober most readers up and get the grey matter flowing.
Satire of racial hatred feels poignant, true to Pratchett’s style. Trolls and dwarves are enemies, and humans see both as equally bad. The Watch’s policy when it comes to crimes, I already mentioned at the start of this review. A man who lives by that philosophy is Vimes’s counterpart, Day Watch Captain Quirke. He’s another character worth keeping an eye on. Quirke is a sort of the anti-Vimes, a lazy, uncaring slob who couldn’t solve a murder if it was his own, and the perpetrator was stabbing him head-on. I feel like Pratchett is going to do something interesting with this one, though.
I absolutely loved the new recruits, three exemplary Lance-Constables of the Watch – the dwarf Cuddy, the troll Detritus and the were…woman Angua. Detritus is the closest yet we’ve narratively been to a troll in the Discworld, and thanks to him we learn a lot about this race of sentient rocks – did you know, for example, that they have silicone brains? Or that they are really quite smart, long as you make sure their brains are cooled down. No, neither did I. Cuddy is fantastic and I loved every minute with him; the two together make for one hell of a funny duo, kind of like Legolas and Gimli in Lord of the Rings. They start from a point of fond dislike over a history of racial hate, only to realize they have a lot more in common than they’d like to admit. And then, eventually, friendship!
Ankh-Morpork is as vibrant as ever. All its guilds, its different cultures and factions are as much a gunpowder keg as always, and the way it all blows up this time around presents a hell of a good story. One of my favourites, in fact. For that reason, I give Men at Arms a score of 5/5!
You’ll enjoy this book if:
- You know what’s good for you.
- And more! Prob’ly.
This is an outtake from my booknest.eu review of Ben Galley’s Heart of Stone. Click here for the full post.
Ben Galley’s The Heart of Stone matters. It shows that chains can be broken, that stories have a profound effect on how we humans perceive the world and what actions we take, and it has something to say about vengeance, justice and mistaking one for the other.
I’m a sucker for exemplary, complex characters and Heart of Stone has them in spades. First and foremost, the owner of the eponymous heart of stone itself, our golem Task. After four hundred years of destruction and slaughter over hundreds of battlefields in dozens of wars, Task still has an untapped fount of compassion and empathy for these creatures of flesh and bone that he’s been forced to kill by the will of his many masters. He is no dumb brute but an intelligent creature, challenged continually by the purpose for which he was made – to be the perfectly obedient war machine, a harbinger of death. This is, to the surprise of no one who has taken even a cursory glance at the blurb, one of the leading conflicts in the novel.
Yet more complex is the character of Ellia. She is one of those characters who will remain with me a long time, like Peter F. Hamilton’s Angela Tramelo (Great North Road) or Ken Follett’s Augusta Pilaster (A Dangerous Fortune). Ellia is a noblewoman whose loyalties aren’t clear-cut to begin with and only get murkier as the plot progresses. Ellia is the architect (pun intended, for the knowing) of most of what happens during the novel, using her wits to gain the upper hand over generals, lords, councillors and religious fanatics. Fuelled by horrific events of her past, the path Ellia chooses to pursue is understandable.
Continued on booknest.eu. #Everythingiscontent #Evencontentoveronotherblogs