Tag: fantasy

The Eye of Ebon, by P. Pherson Green

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆½

Independent Goodreads author (and one of my Goodreads friends) P. Pherson Green has been writing since the late 90s, and has previously had short stories published in various venues. However, this novel, the opener for his projected White Sword Saga series, is his long-fiction debut. He graciously gifted me with a hardcover review copy; no guarantee of a favorable review was requested, or given. My wife and I read the book together, during the intermittent and usually short times we were both traveling together in the car; so the nearly two months it took to read is misleading. It would have been a much quicker read if I’d read it by myself, devoting all of my individual reading time to it.

This is a work of traditional epic fantasy, set (as most tales in this genre are) in a medieval-like setting resembling the Europe of that day, except in an invented fantasy world. (A helpful map is provided, though it doesn’t show every single locality a reader might like to locate.) It would be fair to say that most if not all English-language epic fantasy written from the last half of the 20th century on owes something to the inescapable influence of Tolkien’s monumental LOTR saga, and this novel is no exception. We have here, ultimately, a quest narrative involving an artifact of great significance (and great seductive power, of an unwholesome sort). The characters’ world is one with a very long history, involving elder races and cataclysmic wars which have consequences for the present. Two non-human races, the Allarie and the Groll, are respectively much like Tolkien’s elves and orcs.

More importantly, we’re very definitely dealing here with a conflict between good and evil, with domination of a world at stake; and the conflict is not simply one of “Us” (the “good” characters) vs. “Them” (the “bad” characters), but rather within “Us” as well, since all humans can be tempted by evil. And like Tolkien (who once famously characterized the LOTR corpus as a “Catholic work”) Green is a Christian author, who writes from a Christian conception of the universe. Neither writer makes any explicit reference to Christianity, and indeed both are dealing with a world in which Christ has not been born; Middle Earth is supposedly our world long before Christianity existed, and Green’s Silver World (he introduces that name only in a short note after the novel proper) is an entirely different world with a different salvation history. But like Tolkien’s Morgoth (“the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant”) the entity variously known here as the Shadow, the Wyrm, the Foul Pretender or the Dark Beguiler is recognizable as Satan; and the apparently pagan polytheism of the Silver World isn’t quite as polytheistic as it initially seems.

For all that, Green is his own person with his own literary vision and style; The Eye of Ebon is not a direct LOTR knock-off, in the way that Terry Brooks’ The Sword of Shanarra is. A major difference, of course, is the distaff perspective. While Tolkien’s Eowyn is an action-capable female, she’s not the heroine of the saga; his major characters, and most of the characters who display any real agency, or play a direct role in defeating evil, are male. Here, the two viewpoint characters, protagonist Samiare (whom you see depicted on the book’s cover) and essentially co-protagonist Rugette are both female, and formidable fighting females who carry the brunt of the book’s down-and-dirty struggle against evil, and who make the key, crucial gut wrenching and difficult moral decisions at the climactic points. (I was already inclined to rate the book at five stars, but those were the moments that clinched it, and for me moved this tale into the ranks of great, rather than merely good, literature!)

To be sure, unlike Rugette, whose combat skills, especially archery, result from rigorous training since she was in her early teens (I’d guess her to be about 30 here) and have been honed in years spent as a high-ranking warrior and scout fighting the Groll, Samiare, an untrained girl of 15, owes her prowess to a mysterious sword. At the very beginning of the main narrative, she lies dying in the snows of her homeland from cold and blood loss after being gang-raped by a band of Groll and renegade humans, who carved an obscenity on her belly, beat her and tortured her with branding irons, after killing her father and making off with her sister. When she cried out for deliverance “to the one god she knew –the one who watched over,” that sword was gifted to her by a glowing man-like being; and it proves to be no ordinary sword. But she still has to hold it and wield it –and make decisions about how she uses it.

The above paragraph suggests another difference from the Tolkien corpus; this narrative is much grittier, and gorier. While the gang-rape itself isn’t really directly described, we can tell it occurred; and while Green doesn’t make the brutalizing and torture here any more drawn-out than it has to be to make us feel it, he does make us do that. This sets a tone for a very violent book; there’s a lot of mortal combat action with edged weapons, and the Groll are an extremely sadistic and treacherous bunch, even to each other. (Tolkien, in a letter, once characterized the orcs as “almost irremediable,” but allowed that no being created by God is wholly irremediable. We get the impression here that the Groll may be; but even here, Green depicts them as having a claim to merciful treatment when they’re disabled in combat, which I regard as a plus.) So there’s a high body count, with quite a lot of humans and humanoids dying, often in nastily unpleasant ways. There’s no “pornography of violence,” but we do see the spilled entrails, severed limbs, split skulls, etc. However, there’s no quoted bad language, and no explicit sexual content. (In fact, the only reference to sex at all, besides the implied rape above, occupies a tastefully phrased single part of one sentence, in 230 pages of text proper. This would definitely not be characterized as a “romantasy.”)

Green has a serviceable, dignified and assured, naturally flowing prose style that holds interest well. Settings, scenes and people are described vividly enough to be pictured in the reader’s mind (and some of the scenes conjured rival those depicted by Robert E. Howard or A. Merritt for atmosphere and spectacle!), but not over-described. World-building is delivered along the way of the storyline, without info-dumps (there are a couple of roughly page-long appendices, “About the Silver World” and “The Four Lands,” which should be read). There aren’t many serious typos, the worst one being that “reigns” tends to be substituted when “reins” is meant (but that’s a quibble). We come to realize before long that the Prologue describes events taking place millennia before the main story, and occasional interspersed flashbacks set in the same time-frame aren’t distinguished by typeface or a heading; but the reader quickly comes to identify and understand these, and they do convey important information.

There’s no cliff-hanger here; the challenge of the main plot is brought to its conclusion. But it’s clear that the overall epochal struggle of the Four Lands is only beginning, and I’m invested in continuing the series!

Author: P. Pherson Green.
Publisher: Gold Dragon Publishing, available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Riley Parra: Better Angels

  By

★★
“Wings of desire.”

The idea here is considerably stronger than the execution. Police detective Riley Parra (Hassler) works the scummiest part of town, which is ruled by mysterious and possibly legendary figure Marchosias (Landler). However, while working a murder case, Riley discovers the area is, in fact, Ground Zero for an ongoing war between demons and angels. More startlingly yet, she’s directly involved, because she is the “champion” on the side of the angels. This revelation has the potential to destroy the shaky truce which has been in place between the two sides. Riley also has to deal with pesky journalist, Gail Finney (Sirtis, sporting an Australian accent for some reason), and attraction to new medical examiner Dr. Gillian Hunt (Vassey).

This is based on a series of books by Geonn Cannon, and is a mixed bag. I like the idea that the police department is entirely staffed by women, and nobody particularly cares. That they all appear to be lesbians? Hmm. Geonn is a male author, I should mention, which makes this… interesting. It’s all very much PG-rated, but really, I feel all the relationship stuff seriously gets in the way of the plot. Not least, because this ends with none of the major threads anywhere close to tied-up. Instead, it finishes with Riley just having solved a murder which doesn’t even take place until 65 minutes into the movie. Originally a webseries, it seems more a pilot than an actual film. Five years later, there’s no continuation, so do not expect resolution.

There are also silly little gaffes, such as Dr. Hunt picking up evidence at a murder scene with her bare hands. Or Riley getting a call and being texted the location of the same murder, then saying, “I’ll be there in 15 minutes” – without looking at her phone. Be where exactly? It’s all minor, but indicative of a rather sloppy approach to film-making. Shame, since the characters here are quite interesting, and the performances are decent. Everyone here seems like they could be a real person, even Marchosias and his outrageously French accent (that actor actually is French, so I’ll let it pass).

It feels fairly pro-religion, both in its central concept and sympathetic presentation of the priest, to whom Riley turns for advice. I’d have liked to have seen more action: I think the only person Riley shoots is her partner – not much of a spoiler, since it happens early on. Oddly, that barely leads to any disciplinary action or investigation, more evidence of the slapdash approach to detail. I do suspect some characters are not what they seem. I think either Riley’s boss, or Gail Finney, are actually agents for Marchosias. The latter would be interesting, being the kind of crusading, anti-police journalist you might expect to be the heroine in another story. Guess we’ll never know. Well, unless I read the novels and… Yeah, I probably wasn’t sufficiently into this to justify the effort there.

Dir: Christin Baker
Star: Marem Hassler, Liz Vassey, Karl E. Landler, Marina Sirtis

The Accidental Keyhand, by Jen Swann Downey

  By

Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

In terms of my reading plans for 2025, mentally laid out at the end of last month, this read was a totally unexpected curveball. The book (and author) wasn’t one I’d ever heard of, and not one I’d have bothered to pick up even on a free rack; but it was a surprise Christmas gift from a library colleague, delivered early this month when we returned from Christmas break, and one that touched me deeply. As a gift from one librarian to another, it actually has a lot to commend it, being very library-centered and with a message very supportive of books and the importance of the written word.

Written for younger readers (ages 10-14, according to the Goodreads description), this is the opening book of what’s so far a duology. Author Downey describes the premise and genesis of the series in an answer to a question by another Goodreader, which is worth quoting from at length:

“I think the seed for the series was planted when I saw the phrase “Petrarch’s Library” scrawled on a notebook I found in our never-very-organized, and always-very-clutterful house. Everyone in the family denied being the scrawler, but the phrase ignited my imagination, especially after I looked it up and found it associated with a collection of books that the 14th century humanist and poet, Petrarch, had carried around with him when he traveled on the back of a donkey. That made me laugh, because the phrase had suggested some sort of grand magnificent library. But then I thought, well, even a small collection of books IS a sort of imaginary grand magnificent place because each of the books is a doorway into a different world of ideas, and knowledge, and story.

Suddenly I was imagining “Petrarch’s Library” as a solid, if sprawling building, made out of library chambers from different times and places knitted together by magic into one incredible super-library.

Since I was a kid, I always had the feeling that librarians were masquerading at doing something mundane while actually doing something incredible, mysterious and magical. It seemed reasonable that the work of librarians who staffed the imaginary Petrarch’s Library would defend and protect the flow of information in shall we say, some additional warrior-ish direct action ways!”

(That quote also answers the question of whether this is fantasy or science fiction; that would depend on whether the author intended us to view the speculative elements as enabled by magic –which, as noted above, she did!– or by natural phenomena/technology unknown to present science.) 12-year-old protagonist Dorothea “Dorrie” Barnes is a library-loving kid growing up in Passaic, New Jersey (I suspect this might be Downey’s hometown, but can’t confirm that), in a chaotic household with her inventor father, college instructor mom, 14-year-old brother Marcus, and three-year-old sister Miranda. (The family shares the house with her great-aunt Alice, who’s an anthropologist.) Dorrie’s a pretty ordinary tween, albeit one with a sense of justice and a liking for the idea of sword-fighting against villains; she’s got a blunt practice sword and takes a library-sponsored fencing and stage combat class. But when the book opens on the day of the library’s annual Pen and Sword Festival (a sort of low-budget Renaissance Faire), a succession of freak events will very soon suck Dorrie and Marcus into a most un-ordinary experience….

With 358 pages of actual text, this is a rather thick book; but it has fairly large script, and is a quick-flowing page turner. Given that it’s intentionally written for kids, it’s safe to say (and no disgrace to the author!) that it would appeal more to that group than to adults; and while it’s among those children’s books that can please adults, it’s much more towards the younger-age end of that spectrum than some. Probably its biggest problem is conceptual murkiness, which makes suspension of disbelief challenging (more so for adults than for most 10-14 year-olds). The circumstances behind the rise of the Foundation and later of its Lybrariad adversaries aren’t really explained, and neither is the power behind the magic of Petrarch’s library and why its details work the way they do (partly because the Lybrarians themselves don’t know or understand this!). Because the author conceives of time as fluid, with past events subject to change which can re-write subsequent ones, time paradoxes are a factor, and that’s definitely not my favorite time-travel trope. Also, Downey’s perspective is secular humanist, though the book doesn’t stress this. The issue of language differences in certain settings isn’t always handled convincingly, IMO.

However, there are definite pluses here as well. On the whole, the plot is a serious one, with real suspense and tension in many places and a definite potential risk of death at times, and there are some serious life lessons imparted and significant moral choices made; but the author leavens this with a good deal of both situational and verbal humor, which works well here. She’s obviously well-read and knowledgeable about history, geography, natural history, etc., and she constructs her plot well for the most part (though there’s a significant logical hole in the part played by one magical artifact). Dorrie’s well-developed and likeable; most of the other characters who get any significant page-time are well-developed also, though not always likeable nor meant to be. (Marcus is, though you might sometimes want to swat him! :-) ) A nice touch is the incorporation of several real historical figures, such as Cyrano de Bergerac and Greek philosopher Hypatia, as members of the Lybrariad, though their portrayal isn’t always necessarily realistic. (I appreciated the short appendices which identify most of these people, and give additional information about other real persons, places, books, and other items mentioned in the tale.)

Since Dorrie is only 12 years old, she’s not a very formidable fighter in serious combat. But within the limits of her physical growth and of what training she’s had, she actually does display some action heroine chops, albeit not until quite a ways into the book.

All in all, this is not deep fiction, and I don’t plan to seek out the sequel. But it’s an enjoyable romp on its own terms, and I don’t regret reading it. (Note for animal-loving readers: the pet mongoose who plays an important role in the storyline is not harmed in any way!)

Author: Jen Swann Downey
Publisher: Sourcebooks, available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Wyvern Awakening, by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  By

Literary rating: ★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

There are reviews which are easy to write, because – good or bad – the subject generates a lot to talk about. This is not one of those. It’s a bland slice of semi-urban fantasy, which just… sits there, the literary equivalent of a bowl of vanilla pudding. It’s not good, nor is it bad enough to be memorable. It merely exists, remarkable mostly in how unremarkable it is. Put it this way, I finished it less than 24 hours ago, and I can’t even remember the heroine’s name, so little impression was made. Instead of writing, I find myself almost preferring the Star Trek musical episode Chris is watching next to me. And I don’t really like Star Trek. Or musical episodes. 

It starts off feeling like a Harry Potter knockoff. Heroine (checks notes) Astrid was orphaned after her parents were killed by a powerful mage, leaving her with a facial scar, when she defended herself with her own innate arcane talent. She’s then sent to live with some nasty relatives, who treat her badly, almost to the point of abuse. Yeah, it’s all very J.K. Rowling. She has a dream where she suddenly realizes the Mage was Duke Jorgen, the city’s ruler. She vows to take revenge, and fortunately, the Duke is having a contest to find a new assistant. Astri, who is the last of the wyvern shape-shifters, joins the competition and goes through the resulting trials.

Yet, the closer she gets to Jorgen, the more confused she becomes, because he hardly seems like the parent-murdering type. He is, of course, far too attractive to be evil. Read that sentence with as much sarcasm as you wish. So, if you want every encounter to be overflowing with unresolved romantic tension, here you go. The problem is, there’s no consistency in Astri’s approach. One minute, she is about to get all kissy-face with him, the next she’s leaving him to be tortured by rogue shifters. She’s supposed to be a strong, independent heroine, yet is frequently neither. And what are the rules of this contest anyway? They seem to be made up as the trials progress. 

There are some decent elements. I was amused by the her scabrous pair of pocket pixies – named Jetli and Lenin, because reasons, I guess. There’s also a sense of bigger forces at play beyond Astri’s personal problems. The last trial brings these particularly into focus. But the final revelation has been telegraphed from almost the very beginning, and is as thoroughly unimpressive as I feared. I suspect this might be aimed more at a YA audience. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with that, except there are YA books that can still work for an adult audience. Then we have this, which does not. To be honest, I suspect even my 13-year-old self might have found it severely deficient, in a number of areas. 

Author: Joanna Mazurkiewicz
Publisher: Self-publshed, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Mage Chronicles.

Demon Hunter, by Aubrey Law

  By

Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆½

I wouldn’t call this great literature, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, in many ways, it’s not very good. But I must admit: I was entertained, and was far from unhappy to realize that I’d picked up an omnibus of books 1-5 further into my reading list. I’m not sure I’m going to bother with reviewing those following installments; certainly not independently, it would be a bulk package, if at all. But I’m going to read them, and probably enjoy them. What’s interesting is, the author has created a protagonist who is, in many ways, a terrible person. But by then pitting them against arguably worse people, the reader is left on her side.

It begins a long time in the past (round about the birth of Christ, I think), when royal princess Annis has to flee after her mother, Amelia, kills her father. Annis had been trained in the dark arts, and vowed to continue building on these skills, until she is eventually powerful enough to take revenge on Amelia. Over a millennium later, her lifespan extended unnaturally and now a skilled Black Witch, Annis is captured by witch-hunters, tortured and executed, her soul descending into hell. After biding her time in torment for centuries, she seizes the chance to escape, finding herself in modern-day Los Angeles and occupying the flesh of a sex slave called Ashley.

She’s not happy about it, and certainly has the skills to punish those unfortunate enough to be on her lengthy list. Methods of dispatch Annis can use include: making your heart explode, forcing you to kill yourself, and – a personal favourite – Exoskeleton, a spell that violently relocates all the victim’s bones to the outside of their body. Given everything she can do, seems odd that the main quest in this book is for a weapon, the Judas Dagger, forged from the thirty pieces of silver paid to Judas Iscariot for his betrayal of Christ. Compared to Exoskeleton, sticking ’em with the pointy end seems very low-energy. Admittedly, there are a lot of entities on her trail too, though so far none pose much of a threat.

You could call this trash, to which I would nod, and reply, “Yes. Your point being…?” So far, there have been precious few indications of pretension or depth, with Annis simply reacting – usually violently – to the circumstances in which she finds herself. There’s hardly a sympathetic character here. Sonja, another sex slave who is rescued by Annis, comes closest but she quickly ends up turned into a ghoul who needs blood to survive, and isn’t too fussy about its source. I hope we get someone who represents a bit more of a challenge for Annis, because when you can stop an opponent’s pulse dead, most battles don’t last long. Albeit a bit guiltily, I confess to being not disinterested in finding out.

Author: Aubrey Law
Publisher: Independently published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 7 in the Revenge of the Witch series.

Arcane – League of Legends: Season 2

  By

★★★
“Everything that goes up, must come down again.”

Note: Watching season 1 or at least reading Jim’s review of it is highly recommended. Spoilers will follow!

I never played the MOBA (multiplayer online battle arena) video game League of Legends. But I guess this was the case for many people, when they discovered the first season of the animated series based on it in 2021 on Netflix, and were surprised by its great quality. For Arcane – League of Legends was a show long in the making. That it finally came to fruition is probably mainly due to the persistence of producers Christian Linke and Alex Yee. The whole project had many creative problems to overcome, not least the indifference of Hollywood, where Riot first tried, unsuccessfully, to find a partner for a possible translation of their stories into a film version. It would probably never have seen the light of day if they hadn’t employed producer and writer Amanda Overton. She was able to see the dramatic potential of Riot’s fictive world Runeterra and take the needed steps for this to become a story.

The whole project was something absolutely new for all involved, because animated clips for games are not the same as an animated series. It spent a long time in development – production for the first season took seven years. Success could not be guaranteed, therefore needing another three for the second season to go into production without finished scripts for every episode, according to Variety. This resulted in a total budget of $250 million for the entire series. The first season cost $80m to produce; the second, $100m; the rest went into marketing the first season. This means every episode cost $13.9 million, the highest budget per episode of any animated series ever.

Given that, it’s no surprise to hear the rumoured three further seasons are not happening. However, the producers say that was just an inside joke: it was always intended for the story of the twin cities Piltover and Zaun to be finished with the second season. At least, it’s what they claim.  Watching the rushed events play out in season 2, with new, underdeveloped characters being introduced and old characters sometimes behaving inconsistently, and not necessarily in line with the way they were presented in season 1, make doubts about such statements absolutely justified.

In any case, here we go again! While normal watchers and fans had to wait 3 years for Arcane‘s second part. Season 2 continues its story immediately after the big bang, which we don’t get to see here, caused by Zaunite and gangster protégée Jinx, previously known as Powder. We get to discover which council members died and survived. That question seemed the most important one for many people, maybe only topped by the unresolved relationship issue between Jinx’s sister Vi and Piltoverian enforcer Caitlyn. Surprisingly, only half perished but Caitlyn’s mother, Cassandra, bit the dust, a potential catalyst for a revenge arc. But then, from the very beginning on, Arcane has followed much more complex storylines than your average Hollywood blockbuster.

For this show, it means what would be enough for your average action movie or TV series, is just the beginning. It’s what I think makes the series above average in general. It always gives more than you asked for, and at the same time surprises you with sudden twists, unexpected developments, plus nuanced characterizations and relationships that escape standard black-and-white. Well, at least the first season did.

Characters are flawed, not just good or evil. They try their best, or at least react in a way that is human and understandable. Yes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Sometimes your effort to do good is exactly what leads to society’s downfall. That theme was prominent in season 1; for season 2, it’s also about how the actions and intentions of different people can clash with each other. Also, Riot and its creative team seek to put things on their head, with unforeseen developments for their characters. Viktor becomes a kind of helpful messiah in Zaun; Jinx teams up with her former gangster-stepfather’s loyal lieutenant Sevika, with whom she was at odds before, and young girl, Isha; Jinx becoming the poster girl for what seems to be Arcane’s prepared re-enactment of the French revolution; and Caitlyn is de facto declared sole ruler by Ambessa Medarda. A fallout between Caitlyn and Vi puts their developing love story on ice and drives Vi into nasty underground fights. There’s a lot happening here and a lot to unpack, too; no review can cover it all, so I won’t even try.

The dreamlike quality of the animation is still overwhelmingly beautiful. Though in some scenes and moments, you may feel you already know French animation studio Fortiche’s shtick. Anything repeated can hardly retain a feeling of originality, though it still may look beautiful. Once again, the musical score is fine and offers something for everyone. When music and visuals come together, they very often make a fine combination, reminding me of MTV music videos of my youth.

Unfortunately, the songs are usually at the beginning of each episode. I preferred it the way season 1 did it – we didn’t know when a song would pop up. It could be the beginning, middle or the end of an episode, so it was a nice surprise. Also, while the previous season had around eleven songs, here there might be twice as many. After a while, the constant interruptions of the story for another music sequence can start to feel quite a bit distracting if not outright annoying.

Is this season better or worse than season 1? It depends on what is important for you. What I liked very much of the first season, was it being character-focused and psychologically deeper than you would normally expect from your average entertainment product. Also, the realistic depiction of characters and their conflicts with each other made me buy into the more fantastic elements of the story. I got the strong impression that, in contrast to many Hollywood creators today, those in charge had actually read books on screenwriting and building dramatic conflicts, as well as believable characters.

Season 2 is different: focus appears to be elsewhere. It seems there is so much the writers feel the need to tell, and by wanting to introduce more of the game’s lore, it sometimes becomes too much for its own good. There are many new developments, arcs, characters, etc. Don’t get me wrong: characters are still likable, but they and their developing relationships had much more time to breath in the previous season. Here, things seemed to go a bit too quickly, and I couldn’t escape the impression characters were sometimes turning 180° within minutes. Very often events or explanations are kind of summarized in montages with music put underneath. Of course, you can do that. But you shouldn’t do it all the time.

A clear minus point in my book: things that felt logically had to happen based on season 1, are discarded in favor of other story decisions out of nowhere. You can say while the first season was character-orientated, the second wants to bring in boatloads of lore. Didn’t Jinx kill Sevika’s boss Silco just a day ago? And now they are teaming up? Really? A kiss finally confirms the love between Caitlyn and Vi, which can be probably counted as pure fan service for the lesbian community. But then there is a breakup a few minutes later, and Caitlyn, who was introduced as a shy and sexually unaware person in season 1, is shown in bed with fellow officer, Maddie Nolan. That’s a new character, and we don’t get any explanation why and how they became a couple. Where did that come from? How convenient it happened between episode 3 and 4, which saw another time-skip of unknown length.

The same is true for the revolution of Zaun against Piltover. It seemed to be just about to break out but is skipped over, too. Suddenly we have a Zaun held in check by Ambessa’s Noxian troops. I guess it relieved the animators from the burden of drawing extensive large battle scenes here between Enforcers, Zaunites and Noxian soldiers. All we get is a small demonstration led by Sevika, that’s immediately put down. Nor are we given an explanation why Jayce thinks that the Hexcore could save Viktor – how badly was he injured? While we can assume why Viktor leaves his friendship with Jayce behind, he never really states a specific reason.

Why should the council accept Caitlyn as a new member, given she is only the daughter of Cassandra? Are political positions inherited in Piltover? If so, I’m not astonished the twin cities are having so many problems. Ambessa makes Caitlyn de facto commanding officer of the city and Caitlyn takes that position, only to backpedal an episode later. Why? If you want to tell an Emperor Anakin story, do so. But then go the full mile and show me her devastating actions, as well as the resulting impact. What is a story decision worth when you have no intention to make something out of it, and reverse it a couple of episodes later? It’s like starting to tell a story, then suddenly deciding against it.

Other things didn’t make sense, as if the writers lost track of their own story. How come Ambessa knows Vi? She is virtually a total stranger to her. How does she know Vi and Caitlyn were close? And why should she be glad when Caitlyn fakes the capture of Vi, since she has little or no meaning for her? I do get that Linke & co. are in favor of “show don’t tell”, and prefer visuals and the intelligence of the audience to deduce things, instead of showering them in spoken info-dumps. But these things don’t appear logical anymore and demand explanations that are not given here. As someone who doesn’t know the game, I also had quite some problems understanding what was happening with the Hexcore, especially at the end.

Caitlyn in particular has a lot to answer for: she changes so often this season, that she could be called the poster child for inconsistent character writing. It’s as if the makers were preparing certain things, then didn’t want to follow through or got scared of their own boldness. Where is the bloody revolution, the big civil war that loomed all over season one, and whose ending seemed to be so unavoidable? I have to shake my head in disbelief at the storytellers, obviously preparing a love story between two main characters, only to chicken out for want of not having them come together too early, meaning they bond physically just shortly before the finale. Unfortunately, when said scene finally happens, it feels very much “too little, too late”. [Did they really do it on the floor of a dirty prison cell, while the climactic battle was simultaneously brewing outside?]

It should be noted that the series is not a Netflix product; Netflix was just offered the show as a distributor. Riot Games, its creator, financed the series themselves and had French animation studio Fortiche produce it. It might explain why the usual “propaganda” we see in a lot of Netflix-productions is less obviously present in this. This show mainly abandons lectures in favour of its narrative. Though it’s fair to stress the story is focused on strong, powerful women. Male characters appear either as weak and emasculated (Viktor, Salo, Heimerdinger, Caitlyn’s father), negatively portrayed (Silco, Singed, Marcus, Finn, Smeech), non-intimidating boyfriend material (Jayce, Ekko) or – and this becomes almost a dead horse – dead/absent father figures (Silco, Vander and Marcus).

If you are an imposing strong man, here it is usually as a supporting character without any agency of his own (such as “The Scowler”, Loris or Riktus, Ambessa’s muscular right-hand man). If you had told this story a few years ago, Jayce and Caitlyn would have become an adored couple – an idea the first season seemed to toy with for a moment, then quickly discarded. But as we live in ‘enlightened times’, the show sees the sensitive Jayce being seduced by powerful black leader Mel Medarda, and Caitlyn is revealed as a lesbian.

Disappointingly, the expected big final fight between Vi and Jinx is not to be found here: instead, they get along again after a bit of a brawl. Jinx the psycho? She seems quite normal again, after playing surrogate mother to the mute Isha for a couple of episodes. That’s far from any normal psychological reality. The screenwriters aren’t even above shamelessly milking nostalgia by giving us a flashback to Vander, Silco and the mother of Vi and Jinx sitting in “The Last Draw” – in a way it’s even repeated later again. Cheap, cheap, cheap!

Certain developments feel hasty, rushed and insufficiently explained. If I didn’t look it up, I’d have no idea about the meaning of the Black Rose. Maybe the Ambessa novel coming out next year might make things clearer? Fans may know what this is about; but it’s not how you present a story to people who have no prior knowledge of the game’s lore. By doing things like this you essentially exclude them from the show. I will say, it becomes better in later episodes. Episode 7 function as some kind of alternative universe story, that works as a stand-alone. Episode 8 finally gives us information we could have used earlier, when the characters have some much needed discussions with each other. Unfortunately, the last episode opts for a finale akin to a typical Tolkien adaptation by Peter Jackson, with what appears to be the villain from Avengers 2: The Age of Ultron, and partly falls prey to esoteric mumbo-jumbo.

Also, newly introduced characters such as Isha, Loris or Mattie are never developed. What can we really say about them? What is the sense of introducing an admittedly cute little girl into the story, having her do or say little of significance, only to kill her off a few episodes later? Yeah, I know, it has shock value when a child dies. But “kill the cutie” is one of the cheapest cliches. I did not expect the makers would fall to the level of George R. R. Martin, after the screenwriting skills they demonstrated in season one. [But there might be a simple explanation: I read that four of the screenwriters in season one were not part of the writing committee for season two.] For me these things indicate a rushed, not thought through screenwriting process. Obviously having “only” three years for the second season, compared to seven for the first, led to a tangible loss of quality in the careful construction of scripts and characters.

The first season’s story built up, with logical progression, and you could quickly identify with the characters’ psyches and what drove them. Don’t get me wrong, the show is still very good and entertaining, but would have been much better served if this edition had more time to breath and been spread over two or maybe even three seasons, instead of just one. Too often you feel that there are scenes or needed explanatory dialogues missing, as if they had to be cut or were never written. Consequently, while I would easily have given season one 4 stars, season two lands with only 3.

Also, there is a slight change in style. While it’s still a drama, this season seems to skew a bit more horror-orientated. Body modification (see Viktor) plays a role here, as well as the frightening abilities of the “Hexcore”, which seems to develop like a living organism. We get enforcers hunting Jinx with gas into the deep mines, and unscrupulous scientist Singed creating Warwick, a kind of werewolf-ian monster, predicted by some LoL fans after seeing the last scene of season 1. The show as a whole gets more fantastic, compared to the more retro-SF leanings of the first season.

That said, the story arcs started three years ago are brought to an end, and that doesn’t necessarily mean a happy end for all. You have to deal with the new developments, regardless if you might have wished the show to develop in a different direction. The series is still the best in its specific genre – I guess that would be animated steampunk fantasy? – and market segment, though potential new competitors like Blue Eye Samurai are lurking around the corner.

Piltover looks very much Art Deco to me while Zaun is influenced by the style of Art Nouveau. I sometimes feel the twin cities remind me of a fantastic, retro-version of Paris at the beginning of the 20th century. Or maybe a bit earlier, around 1870 and the Belle Epoque – which makes sense, considering animation studio Fortiche has its headquarters in Paris. There is a clear commitment of Fortiche to artistry; there is hardly a frame that is not incredibly beautiful or fascinating. You could easily cover your whole living room wall with pictures of the show. Any complaints I have, are not about them: they did their work. They already are working on animated movie Penelope of Sparta (about Odysseus’ wife in Greek mythology). If it has half of the technical quality of Arcane, consider my ticket bought!

I liked season 2 but I didn’t love it. The action is still great, as are the visuals, in combination with a captivating soundtrack. You still care for the characters – though sometimes you just want to slap them right and left in the face, to get them to their senses or make up their minds. The show is complex and deals with modern but also timeless themes underneath its entertaining facade such as social injustice, the advantages and dangers of new technologies (if you want you can read “Hextech” as a metaphor for nuclear energy, environment endangering industrial processes in general, weapons of mass destruction, body modification or politics that are lead by economical interests only), and the corruption and ignorance that power creates.

But there are also psychological and social themes of conflict: emotion versus intellect, safety versus liberty, preservation of the status quo versus progress by destruction of the existing system. These are best represented in sisters, Jinx and Vi, whose already shaky patchwork family has been torn into pieces by these battles. Yet it also shaped them, and put them on a collision course against each other. Or so it seemed, since the final confrontation is between Jayce and Viktor, while Jinx is given an unnecessarily bland, sacrificial death to save her sister – although the creators hint at the end that she may have survived. You could argue the character’s potential has been entirely wasted in the attempt to reshape her into a more positive protagonist in season two. I repeat: it feels absolutely weird. Looking at the titles of the first season I always expected the final fight to be between Jinx and Vi, and it feels like another broken storytelling promise.

A minor complaint I have is, all these problems are shown, but a real solution isn’t offered for them. Yes, there are many good-hearted people here. who want the best for everyone, all fighting on different fronts, But in the end these eternal conflicts that mankind has suffered from since its existence are not really solvable. It’s kind of a downer when it comes to this original, very ambitious story. So, is season 2 what The Last Jedi was to The Force Awakens? Naah. It’s more what The Matrix sequels were to the first Matrix. Less a major disappointment than an unnecessary continuation of a perfect original. Honestly, I could have done without all the new fantastic elements and story arcs. I just wanted to see the resolution of the story the first season promised me.

Expectations set by the first season were maybe too high, but could have been at least partly fulfilled. The first gave us some kind of Greek tragedy in a fashionable modern dress, this feels more like just another fantasy show, with added modern “diversity”. The end of season one, though an open one, felt logical and justified. In a way, we could imagine the results of the final action and it didn’t really demand a sequel. The ending here feels kind of average and is unsatisfying as storytelling, perhaps partly due to already preparing another new show, probably set in Noxus. While still an entertaining series, the sad thing is that might be it for the time being.

While further TV and movie projects are planned, it appears the TV and film department of Riot has been disbanded and the team members moved to other departments in the studio, according to media reports. With a $3 million license fee per episode from Netflix and another $3 million from a Chinese distributor, do the math yourself. The show will not really be profitable, despite its popularity, though it may try to recover some costs from merchandise, the release of season one on Blu-Ray this year, selling skins for their game. But it has been reported, the best they can hope for is to break even, which is not a recommendable business model, understandably. Therefore, I’m quite astonished to hear producer Christian Linke talking about another project already in preparation since last year.

Personally speaking, it would be a shame if this is the last story we see from the League of Legends universe outside of the game. The screenwriters and producers would just have to be given enough time to develop something of a similar dramatic quality to season one. Focus on characters, not so much on lore. One story at a time is enough; we don’t have to know them all immediately. But who knows? Maybe one day it might come back due to popular demand, and because someone puts enough money on the table. Films of yesteryear (like right now: Gladiator) get sequels decades later, and TV shows I last saw when I was a hopeful 30-something return all the time. Why shouldn’t that be possible for this series, too?

Creators: Christian Linke and Alex Yee
Star (voice):Hailee Steinfeld, Ella Purnell, Kevin Alejandro, Katie Leung

Outcast, by Vanessa Nelson

  By

Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆½

This is a solid slice of urban fantasy, taking place in a city surrounded on all sides by The Wild. This is more or less what it sounds like, a wilderness inhabited by a variety of monstrous creatures, most of which pose a significant threat to human life. They’re kept out of the city by magical barriers, but these are imperfect. When they fail, and the creatures enter the city, it’s up to the Marshals to hunt them down and contain the threat. One such is Max Ortis, though she only joined them after being kicked out of the Order, eight years previously.

The Order are the magic users and their bodyguards, and at that point, Max was the sole survivor of a mission to seal the Grey Gates. These keep the demon Arkus in the underworld, but Max’s role led to her becoming persona non grata with the Order, and her subsequent dismissal. Her role in the matter has remained known to very few since then. Now, a series of murders are taking place around the city, which have all the hallmarks of being ritual sacrifices, intended to re-open the Grey Gates. Though not technically within her jurisdiction, Max is brought in to assist with the investigation, due to her unique position between the secular and spiritual groups. Turns out the case strikes a lot closer to home than is comfortable for her.

There is quite a lot going on here, not least because Max has to keep up with her regular work, in addition to assisting in the murder investigations. It becomes something of a running joke that she is always being pulled back in, just when she’s looking forward to some down time. There’s a failure of the barrier to handle, with the subsequent intrusions to be tidied up. In addition, she also uncovers some severely questionable entertainment at a local drinking establishment, which poses a threat to the city, in addition to its dubious nature. Oh, yeah: and a demon who whispered out of the shadows to Max as a young child, shows up in her life again. Gratifyingly, this leaves absolutely zero room for romance  (at least in this volume).

Instead, there is quite a lot of Max getting all manner of snot kicked out of her. Even though there are various healing and cleaning spells available to her, she seems to spend a lot of time getting patched up, in order to go back on duty. There’s no doubt the creatures she faces are a real threat, though Nelson does seem to skip describing them in much detail. I’m not certain what a “Keliotrope” looks like, beyond being a) big, and b) unpleasant. Another issue was Max’s apparent ability to think her way out of paralysis at the end. These didn’t impact my overall enjoyment too much; it’s a good start, self-contained yet laying the groundwork for future installments to go in some interesting directions. 

Author: Vanessa Nelson
Publisher: Self-published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 5 in the Grey Gates series.

When Women Were Warriors: The Warrior’s Path, by Catherine M. Wilson

  By

Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

To be frank, I was expecting rather more action given the title here. Almost all of it, however, takes place “off-screen”, as it were, being described second-hand, rather than experienced. It makes sense in the context of the book, and it’s not badly written. But when you use the word “warrior” or derivations thereof, not once but twice in your title, it would seem fair to expect a higher quotient of… warrioring. I tagged this as fantasy, mostly because it clearly takes place elsewhere and/or elsewhen. It is fairly grounded e.g. no dragons or vampires, but certainly contains elements I would call mystical.

The book tells the story of Tamras, who is sent to join the house of Lady Merin, hoping to progress through the ranks of apprentices and become a warrior woman herself, like her mother before her. Tamras feels too small and weak to succeed, but bonds with another outsider there, Maara, a mysterious woman with no past, who came from the north and whose loyalties are consequently suspected by the others. Maara initially rejects Tamras, but after the warrior is hurt while fending off cattle raiders, it’s Tamras who is largely responsible for nursing her back to health, and the pair begin to forge a relationship. After providing valuable information, Maara wins Merin’s trust, although others in the house still perceive her as a threat.

There is a great deal of sitting around here, though I suspect that might be partly the point. To quote Maara, “Most of a warrior’s days are uneventful” this coming after a month when she and Tamras have been part of a group which spent a month guarding against further livestock theft, without very much happening at all. The nearest to proper action are the reports of the battle where the warriors successfully repel an attack, thanks to Maara’s intel. I liked the setting, this being a world where gender – at least, in this part of the world – is not seen as an issue, with men and women fighting side by side. It’s also definitely lesbian friendly – more so than action heroine friendly, I would suggest.

For there was a point, probably about two-thirds of the way through, that I realized the author really wasn’t interested in providing an adrenaline-packed thrill-ride. This is much more about the relationships between the women – we poor men rarely merit a mention – and in Tamras’s growth as a person. Taken as that character study, it’s by no means bad: Wilson has a good turn of phrase, with some of the more spiritual experiences having particular weight. But at other points, it does feel more like sword ‘n’ soap-opera, and the overall sense of much more interesting stuff happening elsewhere became overpowering before the end. The rating above reflects that; while on purely literary terms, it’s likely better, I was left wanting less talk and more fighting.

Author: Catherine M. Wilson
Publisher: Shield Maiden Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the When Women Were Warriors series.

Supergirl, on its 40th anniversary

  By

★★★
“Revisiting the original Maid of Might”

Before Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow arrives on our screens in 2026, starring Milly Alcock from House of the Dragon in the title role, I thought, it would be a good time to revisit the original Supergirl movie, which was released in the United States forty years ago this month. So what is Supergirl? A campy trash/cult classic? A fine, forgotten superhero movie? A guilty pleasure? A lame forgettable flop of the 80s? Hopefully, after reading this review you’ll be able to make your own, well-informed judgment!

Originally, the character of Superman’s cousin was supposed to appear in Superman III, but after a new script was written, the character was moved to her own movie. Alexander and Ilya Salkind, the producers who had given Superman life on the big screen in form of Christopher Reeve, probably thought they might score as big with Supergirl as they had with the first two Superman movies. Unfortunately, when Superman III came out in 1983 it was heavily criticized, and fell well below financial expectations, which caused Warner Brothers to give distribution rights to the Salkinds, who would sell it to Tri-Star.

It may not have been the best move, for it seems the film got little marketing (though did get a royal premiere in Britain), and was also sharply edited down. It’s a bit difficult to be certain how many versions of the film exist, but three are well-known: 1) The theatrical cut that runs a bit over 90 minutes. 2) The international version, also called “European theatrical”, though that did not come out in German cinemas. 3) The so-called director’s cut of 138 minutes, which is overly long, especially by 80’s standards. Nowadays, you’re happy when a big movie doesn’t exceed the 2-½ hour mark. How times have changed!

The box-office also ended far, far below expectations and resulted in the Salkinds selling their rights to make any further Superman-related movies. Which is… kind of regrettable, I think, because this movie is not half as bad as it is usually made out to be. I’ll go into its obvious flaws later. But what is the story about? Introducing Supergirl to the film world was not so easy. After all, we had all seen Superman’s home world Krypton blow up in the original movie. But the film actually followed, without really explaining how scientists did it, the original comics which introduced Supergirl in 1959. Argo City, home of Kara Zor-El’s (Slater), was saved from the catastrophe that befell Krypton and in the film survived in “inner space”, whatever that might be – today we would probably call this another dimension.

Here, Kara lives with her parents, other families and scientist mentor Zaltar (Peter O’Toole). The parents are played by Mia Farrow and Simon Ward in cameos; obviously the producers wanted to give Supergirl the same support, with famous or well-known actors, as they did for the Man of Steel. After losing the Omegahedron, the power source of the city, Kara follows it via unexplained Kryptonian technology to our Earth to bring it back. Unfortunately, evil wanna-be witch, quack doctor and esoteric Selena (Dunaway) has taken it with plans to conquer the world. Their mutual interest in young gardener Ethan (Bochner) and Kara’s need to conceal her real identity, going by the alias of school girl Linda Lee, complicate matters further.

From that summary, you should be clued in to what the movie is. It’s a loose repackaging of the Superman story; though some aspects are different here, at the core it’s the same. Maybe this was one of the reasons why the movie failed to attract audiences. But the story and some characters chosen for it come with problems too. While Superman could still be seen as science fiction, Supergirl seems more like a fantasy movie. While Clark Kent’s continuous attempts to dupe Lois that he is Superman were used in the original two movies to wonderfully hilarious effect, this aspect doesn’t appear here at all.

Then again, how could it? Supergirl has just arrived on Earth, differently to Superman. Christopher Reeve’s Superman was originally heavily involved in the script but Reeve politely declined; maybe he didn’t want to play second fiddle to someone else? So the script was rewritten, with Superman on a “special mission” in another galaxy. Neither her room mate – who happens to be the younger sister of Lois Lane – nor Jimmy Olsen, the only character from the Superman movies to appear, know her, so there can be no “A-ha!” moment. Nor can love-struck gardener Ethan see that the brunette school girl he was just talking to, is also the blonde girl in the super-dress. Whoever wrote this should get a “D-” in basic logic. At least Superman changed totally in behavior and wore glasses when he played Clark Kent. Here, there is no believable excuse for it.

The film has other problems. One is a lot of unnecessary characters that are neither needed, nor add anything essential to the plot. It’s especially apparent with actors probably cast for their comedic talents. Peter Cook, often well-matched with Dudley Moore on stage and film, might be a good comedian but is totally unfunny here. The same goes for Brenda Vaccaro as Dunaway’s sidekick: compare her to Ned Beatty’s Otis, alongside Gene Hackman, and you’ll see how ineffective Vaccaro’s role is here. I’ve already mentioned Lucy Lane and Jimmy Olsen. Why are they here? What do they add to the story? Do they do anything that has an impact?

Trimming should have happened in the writing phase. If they would have eliminated, reduced or at least given these characters something of meaning to do in the plot, the movie might have been much better. Additionally, there is a side-plot of female bullies picking on Kara, seeming only to serve the purpose of showing that Kara has the same heat-vision as her cousin. Other strange decisions were made by the screenwriter, and slid past the producer and director. When Kara lands on Earth the first people she meets are two drunk, wannabe rapists who try to molest her. Hurray for feminism, I guess, as Kara shows them that a Kryptonian teen can defend herself. It’s an ill-fitting scene in a movie apparently intended to be family- and kid-friendly. Wonder Woman 1984 also had such a stupid, distracting scene. So either there is something I  don’t understand, or film directors and screenwriters have not learned much over the four decades between the movies!

Also, the “love story” between Ethan and Kara is essentially a “non-love story”. His love for her is induced by Selena’s magical potion, who wants the man for herself. If the first person Ethan saw after waking up had been a cow, would he have fallen in love with a cow? The length of the movie was already criticized when it originally came out, even though it was shorter at the time. And the version that I knew from seeing the movie in the late eighties on German TV was even shorter. You can hardly expect a movie, of whatever quality, that has been edited down so much to still make much sense at all.

It’s no surprise O’Toole and Dunaway were nominated for Razzie Awards, though it’s not all their fault. Obviously, director Jeannot Szwarc had no problem with Dunaway going as campy as she wanted. It’s a pity because her role could have been convincing or even menacing, played straight. There is no doubt Dunaway, with a fine reputation of playing difficult characters, could have given a good, villainous performance. Heck, she already played a first class femme fatale in the Musketeer movies for the Salkinds in the 70’s. Of course when you go camp, you can hardly blame Dunaway for trying to repeat what Gene Hackman successfully did as Lex Luthor, But you have to be really funny, something that worked for the Hackman-Beatty pairing but not here.

O’Toole has only two significant scenes in the movie, at the beginning and the end. His performance in the first seems a bit uninspired and odd. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was drunk while doing it; the actor was famous for this, like Richard Burton or Oliver Reed. The second, where Zaltar seems to have given up all hope and sacrifices himself for Kara, is quite well done and touching. Although a strange decision was made in the German dubbing, where someone came up with the idea of casting the German voice of Clint Eastwood for him!

For all the negatives I have listed, there are quite a few positives, shining bright in this movie pursued by bad luck. Helen Slater probably gave the performance of her career. She is really, really good playing the female version of the true-blue hero, as well as the innocent-looking big-eyed teenager in Argo City, and her cute school girl role of Linda Lee. Slater was even nominated for a Saturn Award for her performance. If the film had been better – or at least financially successful – maybe she could have had a similar career to the one Christopher Reeve enjoyed due to his Superman role? Alas, it wasn’t to be…

The special effects of the film may look dated today – and they are. But considering all of it was before the advent of CGI, digital and computer effects, it’s impressive what could be achieved by in-camera-tricks, visual illusions, miniature and composite effects. Sure, a lot of effects could be simply generated on the computer today. But even a cardboard photo cut-out of Supergirl, drawn quickly out of the water, is astonishingly effective and can only be recognized for what it is today, due to DVDs and Blu-Rays. How do you show Supergirl almost torn to pieces by a monster in 1984? At that time all the filmmakers had were some distortion effects by a changed perspective – nevertheless, it works, and there are some very nice effects.

As kitschy as it seems, I personally loved the aerial ballet of Supergirl when she arrives. For the first time too, we get to see the Phantom Zone: it’s constantly mentioned in the Superman movies, but here it is actually a set in Britain’s Pinewood studios (used for many Bond movies), and must have been one helluva work to create. Selena’s traps and the shaking, fiery ground are impressive, as are her manipulations in the abandoned event park. My favourite effect might be Kara fighting an invisible monster which you only can recognize by its impact on the environment, e.g. giant footprints on the ground, breaking fences, etc. This seems directly inspired by the classic “ID” monster from Forbidden Planet.

All in all, the effects were as good as possible at the time, so shouldn’t be judged by today’s standards. The film in addition boasts great production design, luscious exterior shots, a well-timed tractor-on-the-loose action sequence, appropriate and good-looking costumes (especially for Dunaway), all of which are undeniable pluses. Then there is the – as always – great Jerry Goldsmith score which makes up more than half of the movie’s atmosphere. It’s especially impressive, considering I could hardly imagine anyone else being able to step in the shoes of John Williams, who scored the original Superman score.

Supergirl is still not a great comic book superhero movie. Nor a bad one: more somewhat mediocre, but kind of sympathetic. As mentioned, the movie had bad luck, being both too late and too early. Too late, as it seems audiences had started to grow tired of the whole Superman circus: within six years people had been exposed to four Superman-related movies. The “All-American” hero had become kind of passé with Schwarzenegger, Stallone and co. introducing the new, harder and gritty anti-hero who would dominate the screens for the next decade. Alternatively, you had more goofy heroes like Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop or the Ghostbusters. A simple, straightforward hero didn’t fit into this time anymore.

But the movie might have been too early as well. At that time, audiences were simply not interested in female comic book heroes as flops like Red Sonja, Sheena and Brenda Starr proved again and again. Even a further attempt in the early 2000s with Elektra, Catwoman and the like failed. It’s only recently that movies like Black Widow, Captain Marvel or Wonder Woman are really scoring big at the box-office. This was also before the “girl power” era. In the late 90s and early 2000s, with TV shows like Charmed, Buffy, Xena, Kim Possible and movies like The Craft, Mean Girls or Legally Blonde, a movie about a school girl fighting an evil, powerful witch could have scored big – but well… not in the 80s!

So… maybe “Supergirl” was just a bit ahead of its time. Judge for yourself.  What about my interest in the movie? Well, I saw photos of it in film magazines, years after it was in cinemas. At that time the movie had not been shown on TV and my family had no VCR yet. All I had was some photos and my imagination to tell me what the movie might be about. For me the film belongs in the category of enjoyable fantasy movies of the 1980s together with fare like The Neverending Story or Highlander. That photo of young Helen Slater with her clenched fist, flying with the glowing sun in the background, still hangs on my wall! So I may be a bit biased concerning the film. But aren’t we all regarding our favourites?

Dir: Jeannot Szwarc
Star: Helen Slater, Faye Dunaway, Hart Bochner, Peter Cook

Caught in Crystal, by Patricia C. Wrede

  By

Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆

One of my favorite fantasy authors, Patricia C. Wrede [pronounced as “Reedy”] began her writing career in the late 70s; this book, published in 1987, is part of one of her earliest bodies of work, the five-novel Lyra series. However, it’s essentially a stand-alone; though all five of the books are set in the author’s fantasy world of Lyra, they’re all about entirely different sets of characters, widely separated geographically or chronologically (or both –like Tolkien’s Middle Earth, Lyra has a very long fictional history), and are unrelated in their plots.

As is usual in traditional fantasy, Lyra is a low-tech world much like medieval Europe, except that magic really works there and is universally recognized as a reality. Also unlike medieval Europe, it has no equivalent of the Roman Catholic Church; such religion as it has is a vague polytheism that doesn’t bulk large in the story. It’s home to five races (at least some of which can interbreed): humans, the elven Shee; the furred Wyrds, who are somewhat cat-like, but are as big as small humans, use spoken language and have opposable thumbs; the mostly aquatic Neira; and the gray-skinned sklathran’sy, often referred to by humans as “demons,” but as in the work of such writers as Piers Anthony and Robert Asprin, not evil fallen angels but just a non-human race with a talent for magic. (In fact, all of the non-human Lyran races have a more natural affinity for magic than humans, and that factor plays a role in this novel and probably the series as a whole.)

Our protagonist is Kayl Larrinar, who when the book opens is a 36-year-old innkeeper in a back-water village, five years a widow, and a caring mom to two kids (Dara and Mark, ages 12 and 10). But (although we learn some of these details a bit more gradually), she’s not native to the place. Orphaned or at least separated from her parents young, she was first raised among Thar raiders but then taken in as a child by the Sisterhood of Stars, an all-female clerisy of warriors and sorceresses who wield considerable influence in much of Lyra. Trained as a swordswoman (though her sword is now buried beneath her hearth –but she still knows how to use it), she was one of the order’s best.

But she broke with the Sisterhood 15 years ago, after an ill-fated expedition to the mysterious and ill-omened Twisted Tower that stands in the remote and inhospitable Windhome Mountains (the expedition where she met her late husband, a Varnan wizard). She never wants to see that place again. Now, however, sorceress Elder Sister Corrana, one Glyndon shal Morag (another survivor of the expedition and a fellow wizard and friend of Kayl’s husband), and an unsavory gaggle of Magicseekers, a human organization determined to get their hands on magical power by any means, fair or foul, are all converging on the inn, and the Tower’s casting its shadow again.

When I first read this novel in the 90s (I’ve now read it twice), I was really impressed by the wonderfully textured world-building. As I know now, that’s helped by this being the fourth book set in the same world. But it’s still impressive! The magic systems (built in the case of the Sisterhood on the use of true names) also have some thought behind them.) Kayl’s a very relatable heroine, a good and conscientious mom whose relationship to her kids is developed well, and realistically; plenty of real-world single moms, I think, could easily identify with her. There’s an element of clean, low-key romance that was also a plus for me. Wrede tells her story at a deliberate pace that allows for character development; and while there are points of suspense and danger, serious violent action occurs only at the climax of the plot. Kayl can (and does) handle herself very well in combat, but that doesn’t take up much of the plot.

So as action-heroine fiction goes, this is on the low action side; but that element is there, and some baddies who tangle with Kayl won’t tangle with anybody else again. (She’s good with a sword, but her knife-throwing skill is jaw-dropping.) Readers who prefer more exoticism and less realism in their fantasy, a plot-driven and faster-paced story, and more violence and sexual steam won’t like this as much as both my wife and I do. But for my part, I appreciated this as an involving, serious fantasy tale that respected my intelligence as a reader. And the positive message of cross-racial and cross-cultural friendship and respect, and the negative view of prejudice, have grown more rather than less relevant in the ensuing decades.

For me, the primary enjoyment of this reading experience was in spending time with these three-dimensional, vital and likable main characters. Even though Lyra is well-realized, it’s not such a fascinating setting in itself that I feel any need to re-visit it centuries later with totally different characters. But I can enthusiastically recommend this as a great adventure for fantasy fans who want a stand-alone rather than a gargantuan series.

Author: Patricia C. Wrede
Publisher: Ace (paperback) and Open Road Media (e-book); available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a print book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.