Brian Stableford

Paperback: 312 pages – Immanion Press; New Ed edition (30 Jan 2008)

In the far, far future the end of the world is nigh. Most humans left many centuries before. The plague is abroad and no-one is immune from its putrefied touch. Technology is gone; sorcery and divination are the only guides for hapless souls who remain, hungry but anxious to foretell their destiny. In this tumultuous landscape a young diver, Lysariel, becomes obsessed with a strange luminous red coral that he discovered in a cave beneath the sea. His plans to prove its existence to his sceptical uncle are somewhat scuppered when he is suddenly crowned king of Scleracina and his brother Manazzoryn becomes next in line to the throne. The pair are delighted to be introduced to two charming girls, daughters of pirate princes, who they hastily betroth. But such frivolity and joy are fleeting glimmers of happiness, for there are wider political and spiritual forces at work that threaten to destroy the kingdom. Infatuated by his young bride Calia, King Lysariel determines that a statue should be sculpted from the magical coral as a tribute to her beauty. From the moment the mystical material is dragged from the ocean’s depths things start to go very, very wrong. Parts of this grim future have been predicted by Giraiazal, practitioner of astrology and cartomancy, a morpheomorphist (who can shape the dreams of others) and wily devil who has found himself in the position of Grand Vizier of Scleracina, more by luck than judgement. However, it’s really not at all in Giraiazal’s interests to foretell a future of doom and gloom.

Curse of the Coral Bride is a gothic novel of tragedy and betrayal with a smattering of horror set against the backdrop of a dying world. These are dark times and Stableford describes his characters in such a way as to keep their motivations slightly masked from view, save for his protagonist Giraiazal whose chief goal is survival, which is not easy to achieve in a world that is no longer enlightened, but threatened with anarchy and despair. But one thing that remains, despite the denizens knowing of their imminent doom, the will to power still binds those with the authority to see through their treacherous intent. This, then, is a tale about the lust for power set against a backdrop of fear and superstition.

The book’s structure is linear, and each chapter preceded with an extract from The Revelations of Suomynona, the Last Prophet, which ranges from the informative to the whimsical, explaining the various divination practices or philosophising about the end of the world. This has the effect of bringing a more rounded vision of the world to the reader without impinging on the central narrative, but can break the flow of the story, in some cases jarringly so. But this is a minor quibble, Curse of the Coral Bride is an exciting and intriguing read, drawing the reader into its strange world through its deliberately archaic use of language and turn of phrase. A gothic fantasy that feels at home aside The Castle of Otranto in tone and brooding, doomed romance.

Orbit Hardback 384 pages – ISBN-10: 1841496952 – £12.99

Personal Demon is the 8th book in Kelley Armstrong’s continually expanding “Women of the Otherworld” series of Fantastical Ferocious Faux-Feminist Female Fighting Fictions. The first book, Bitten, concerned the exploits of a female werewolf coming to terms with her identity but Armstrong soon broadened the remit to include other supernatural creatures, creating a parallel world of the fantastical who walk among the ordinary. You don’t have to have read all of the previous books, but it probably helps to have encountered some, as recurring characters do tend to pop up at some point in the narrative. This allows familiarity for the regular reader, but the standalone nature of proceedings makes it fine for the casual “dipper in”. In Armstrong’s world the supernaturals generally stick together and try not to let humans know anything about their existence. There are werewolves, who live in packs, witches who lead a supernatural council and sorcerer cabals which are run like corporations, except most corporations don’t kill their employees for minor misdemeanours. Allegedly.

Our first protagonist is Hope Adams, an Expisco half-demon, which basically means she thrives on the chaotic thoughts of others. Our second protagonist, Lucas Cortez, is the lawyer son of cabal leader Benicio Cortez but, wouldn’t you know it, he’s a nice lawyer and doesn’t like cabals at all. Ironic then, that his father has named Lucas as his heir – he’ll inherit the whole caboodle when Benicio shuffles off his mortal coil. Now, Hope owes Benicio a favour and this involves partying with a bunch of young supernaturals who rob rich non-supernaturals of some of their wealth. The gang are just having kicks and are signposted to become prime corporate material when they eventually grow up and get proper jobs and Benicio wants Hope to keep tabs on them. When some of these kids get kidnapped Hope suspects cabal foul play, but when a serious attack is launched on Benicio and two of his sons, the lines of loyalty become very blurred indeed.

Armstrong’s formula has been clearly established in the way that she sets up both character and situation, leaving plenty of room for flirtation and foreshadowing of her readers’ expectations. This time the story is necessarily told from both Hope’s and Lucas’s perspectives and always first person, allowing the tale to ping-pong between the pair. Armstrong is content to get on with the adventure at hand, removing the unnecessary detail to fashion that instantly dates many examples of this increasingly popular sub-sub-genre. There are, naturally, a number of sex scenes that range from the teasing to the ridiculous – as in the flashback where she and a lover have sex as she cooks a morning fry-up!

Personal Demon is pretty much what you’d expect it to be – an adventure mystery which ain’t great literature, but is an undemanding and entertaining read.

by Lian Hearn

Hardcover: 560 pages – Publisher: Macmillan 2007- ISBN-13: 978-0230013971

There are a number of things that can, for no obvious reason, strike feelings of dread in a reader. This can vary from one person to another but a personal list would include books that feel the need for a map, a dramatis personae when it isn’t a play and genealogy charts. Heaven’s Net Is Wide contains all three and adds a subtle twist that would have made this list of ominous warnings even longer had we’d considered such a concept – yes, the book contains a genealogy of the horses. And then there’s its availability in adult and junior editions which also sets alarm bells ringing, coupled with a seemingly heavily indulgent page count. However, one should never judge a book by it girth or apparently gratuitous embellishments and Heaven’s Net Is Wide turns out to be one very good reason why. Although written after Hearn’s Tales of the Otori books, Heaven’s Net Is Wide is a prequel to these and acts as a standalone, an introduction to the trilogy and/or a closer examination of legends that are referred to in the previous books.

Shigeru Otori is heir to the Otori Clan in a feudal Japan made volatile and fragile by war and treachery. Although the clan is well regarded, with an ancient lineage, it is perceived as weak in the minds of the clan’s uncles who seek to manipulate or even plan the overthrow of Lord Otori’s capital in Hagi, whilst on the surface pledging their allegiance. Their reasons involve not only personal greed but fear, for the savage Tohan are seeking to expand their territory through slaughter and subjugation. Shigeru evokes the wrath of the Tohan when he kills a prominent clansman in swordfight and rescues another, Iida, Tohan heir, from death – something the impetuous youth despises, as he does all signs of weakness. Shigeru’s also has a headstrong younger brother to protect and must consider producing an heir of his own, although not with his mistress, the beautiful Akane. As civil war becomes increasingly likely the balance of power lies in the hands of a few clans who could tip the political situation either way. But what of The Hidden, a ragged bunch of pious pacifists who worship an alien deity, or The Tribe, mysterious unaligned warriors with apparently supernatural powers?

Despite its junior tag Heaven’s Net Is Wide is not a book that relies on simplistic cause and effect plotting or two-dimensional characterisation – it is truly an epic tale told, at times, from very intimate viewpoints. Although never gratuitous this is a blood soaked tale of honourable combat, treacherous slaughter and the massacre of innocents set against a backdrop of possible imminent famine. Neither does Hearn balk on the harsh sexual expectations and demands of the time, mixing passion with violence, tenderness with violation in a frank but never salacious manner – the matter of fact-ness of the tone emphasising the brutal realities of this time past. The attention to period Japan’s culture, food and religion shows a clear love of the country and its history, even in a fictional context. With all books that are ostensibly based in the real world, the little details – the food, the plants, the daily ritual – give as much flavour of the society as the more obvious trappings of samurai and geisha, castles and battles. To this end a small number of indigenous Japanese terms that may be unfamiliar to people crop up in the text, but add richness regardless. Similarly Hearn’s style of writing is very formalised, almost lyrical, giving the book the feel of something that has been passed down over the centuries and suitably reflecting the subject matter.

A page turner of an epic, Heaven’s Net Is Wide is an eloquent and fascinating novel full of passion and betrayal, spirituality and culture, war and lust.

Sergei Lukyanenko

Reviewed by Colin Odell and Mitch Le Blanc

William Heinemann Ltd

ISBN-10: 0434014443

Paperback: 448 pages

A welcome and timely translation of the final part of Sergei Lukyanenko’s Watch Trilogy (the film of The Day Watch is, miraculously, in UK cinemas, subtitles and all), The Twilight Watch follows its predecessors by giving the reader a value packed three mini-novels for the price of one, all linked and building on the previous texts. The effect is to emphasise how everything in this world is inter-related – that nothing can occur in a vacuum. Seemingly irrelevant events (even from the start of the first book) can have massive consequences further down the line, placing the future of the earth, the human race and the Others in extreme jeopardy. The extent to which the ways that the familiar characters’ actions are manipulated or prophesised is always an issue in the Watch books and makes them feel like a cross between Film Noir and the military ponderings of generals, pushing models around a map, only half identifying that their strategies result in death, even if it is for their perceived greater good. Except, of course, that those genres don’t tend to be populated by magicians, vampires, werewolves, witches and all manner of psychic disturbances which, through centuries of tenuous truce, have kept the presence of the Others shielded from the lives of humans.

The Night Watch monitor the activities of the Dark, the Day Watch monitor the activities of the Light, ensuring that neither violate their treaties. Anton works for the Night Watch and has been progressing through the ranks of power at quite some rate although he pales into insignificance compared with his wife Svetlana and, very likely, their daughter. Svetlana has rejected the Watches but Anton clings on, although he is beginning to have doubts about what constitutes light and dark, good and evil. What unites the two factions is their belief in their separation from the rest of humanity and their determination to keep their very existence secret in order to prevent witch-hunts, bloodshed and possible extermination. When news comes through that someone is offering to change a normal human being into an Other both Watches are riled – a human is aware of their existence and, worse, the unthinkable that is being suggested, is that Others can be created. Anton is sent from the Night Watch to uncover the mystery but so too is his vampire ex-neighbour and now higher vampire Kostya. The ramifications mean Anton is given extended leave in the countryside with his wife and daughter – unfortunate in that an unregistered and immensely powerful (but seemingly benign) witch resides in the forests. The final tale takes matters to a potentially catastrophic conclusion.

The Twilight Watch is a fitting end (?) to the series, balancing matters mundane and apocalyptic. Intelligent but easy to read, the intertwined narratives never become convoluted and are always grounded in a believable modern day society that runs parallel to the supernatural forces among us. If your only experience of the Watch stories are through the films be prepared for a surprise – although the films closely follow the books in many respects, the bombast and visual excess, explosions, effects and fury have little in common with the core of moral dilemma, intrigue and emotion that make the books such a joy to read. Imaginative, believable and wholly entertaining the entire trilogy is highly recommended for anyone fed up with unpronounceable names, needless po-mo sassiness or gratuitous sex and violence. At last a modern fantasy saga for adults.

William Heinemann, London, 2007, 320pp,

£11.99, tip, ISBN 978-0434014439

A summer romance by the beach whilst recuperating from a hard battle.

An amnesiac with apparently monumental powers wanders the streets of Moscow.

A court in Prague needs to decide the fate of many in a tale of tragedy and love.

Although billed as a trilogy the first two books in Sergei Lukyanenko’s remarkable Night Watch cycle are themselves mini-trilogies of interconnected novels, distinct tales that

intertwine to create a wider picture. Like Zabulon and Gesar, the powerful wizards that front the Day and Night Watches respectively, we are forced to witness a bigger picture than the various characters that populate the novels like pieces on a universal chessboard. Indeed the characters, as rounded and individual as they are, become all too aware of the

fragility of their existence, slowly realising they are just game pieces to be sacrificed, however reluctantly, for the two great religions of Light and Dark. Unlike Zabulon and Gesar, though, we do not have as much insight into the grander scheme of things from time immemorial, so the power struggles are as surprising to the reader as they are to the characters. All this might seem like a tale of big wizards and disposable foot-soldiers but that would do the book a great

disservice — The Day Watch is a rich and rewarding read that, for all its lack of ‘human’ players, plays out the frailty of existence against an epic struggle between Light and Dark. This time the book focuses more on the Day Watch, the forces of the Dark whose job it is to ensure that the treaty between the two sides is not violated by the Light — any indiscretions result in balancing acts of darkness or inquisitorial arbitration. Again, this is not the simple choice of ‘good’ vs ‘evil’ — the Light Others have been responsible for some of the greatest crimes against humanity in their effort to impose order while the Dark Others allow for more creative and free thought. Neither side has anything but distrust for the other and this is where the book’s apparently minor incidents have a habit of escalating into world threatening conflict, all played alongside a blissfully unaware general populace. The opening story of this book sucker punches anyone expecting another build up to impending apocalypse, concentrating instead on the aftermath of a particularly fraught battle where a brave and injured Dark Other is sent to a holiday resort for children in order to regain her strength, away from the hustle and danger of the big city. There, among the dunes and the campfires, to the singing of children and the strumming of a guitar, she finds solace in a simple, heartfelt romance. But the tale provides the catalyst for events far more catastrophic than anyone in the Watches, with the possible exception of Zabulon and Gesar, can possibly imagine.

Day Watch is a book that is, at times, achingly human, moving but set against a wider backdrop of global instability and cataclysmic events. The very ordinary within the extraordinary creates an atmosphere that highlights a delicate balance and even minor players have a part to play in the fate of the world. A remarkable, low-key, high-stakes, emotionally driven book that is essential reading for anybody who loved the first volume. Just ignore the “J.K. Rowling – Rissian style” soundbite on the jacket – it does nobody any favours.