Codename: Villanelle vs. Killing Eve

Credit: Entertainment Weekly

“You are an evolutionary necessity.”

With the second series of Killing Eve starting this month, and one of our most eagerly anticipated TV shows of the year, it seems a good point to take a look back at Luke Jennings’s original source material, and its translation to the small screen. Codename: Villanelle was originally self-published by Jennings as four separate novellas, the first (with the same name) appearing in February 2014. It was followed by Villanelle: Hollowpoint in August, then Villanelle: Shanghai and Odessa in February and June of the following year.

It wasn’t Jennings’s first published work: far from it, with Atlantic appearing back in 1995. These were mostly what Jennings calls “politely received but unprofitable novels,” adding “Our income was, to say the least, patchy.” That probably explains why he was dance critic at The Observer newspaper for 14 years. Which in turn explains the entry in his bibliography which stands out as most un-Villanelle like: his co-authorship of The Faber Pocket Guide to Ballet

Codename: Villanelle was optioned for the screen relatively quickly after the first novella, in spring 2014. Initially pitched to Sky Living, they turned the project down, but it was reworked by writer Phoebe Waller-Bridge, to put more emphasis on Eve, and these modifications also triggered the title change. It was a wise decision, I think. Codename: Villanelle seems very passive, a label given to a character (and half-meaningless unless you’re an expert on French perfume). Killing Eve is considerably more active, and also reflects the shift in focus from the hunter to the hunted. It helped get the show picked up by BBC America, and in autumn 2016, the show was given the go-ahead for an eight episode first series. But such was the advance buzz, that a second series was commissioned before even the first episode was broadcast.

This proved to be a wise decision. For it became a word-of-mouth hit, with ratings increasing by two-thirds from the first episode to the last. Critical reaction was no less enthusiastic: Killing Eve was included in more TV writers’ top tens for 2018, than any other show. Sandra Oh’s performance as Eve was particularly lauded, and she won the Golden Globe, Screen Actors’ Guild and Critics’ Choice Television Awards for her portrayal. The success of the series helped propel the first book onto the best-seller lists, and allowed Jennings to quit his day job at The Observer. The second volume, No Tomorrow, was published in October; we’ll have a review of that up later in the week.

But for now, we’re concentrating on the first book – and in particular, comparing and contrasting the show with its source material. What are the similarities? And, perhaps more interestingly, what are the differences? [Of necessity, what follows include significant spoilers for both TV and literary incarnations]

Villanelle

“They had recognized her talent, sought her out and taken her from the lowest place in the world to the highest, where she belonged. A predator, an instrument of evolution, one of that elite to whom no moral law applied. Inside her, this knowledge bloomed like a great dark rose, filling every cavity of her being.”

As noted above, the book leans considerably more towards Villanelle than the TV series in balancing the characters. In the show, she is initially a blank slate, and only slowly is her background revealed, as Eve peels back the layers behind her fake persona. The novel, however, fills in the basic details by page 13, while Eve doesn’t even appear until almost a quarter of the way in. Villanelle is a convicted triple-murderer, having taken revenge on the criminals responsible for killing her father – just one of a number of incidents that illustrate her socio/psychopathic nature [let’s not get bogged down in labels]. In the TV series, it’s a less family-oriented crime which gets her put away: castrating and murdering the husband of a teacher/lover.

She is then spirited out of prison by a shadowy group, known as “The Twelve” and trained in a range of lethal arts, becoming an assassin employed by them. “Shadowy” is putting it mildly for the TV version. Entirely opaque is probably closer to the truth, since we know almost nothing about them. The novel, in contrast, opens with a depiction of their meeting, and The Twelve deciding to unleash Villanelle on a target. We still don’t know who they are or their goals, however. They clearly don’t mess around though. While Konstantin, Villanelle’s handler, is in an “is he dead or not?” limbo at the end of season one, there’s no such doubt in the book. He’s 100% dead, killed by Villanelle after he has been rescued by her from kidnapping – just in case he divulged any incriminating information. Guess you never know. That’s considerably more brutal than in the show, where Konstantin does indeed “go rogue”.

The Vilannelle we see is considerably more anti-social than in the book, where she is entirely capable of hanging out with people as and when necessary. The version on the page is considerably more sexual too – likely impacted  by the TV show being on basic cable – with a habit, after completing an assassination, of finding some random stranger – male or female, she’s not bothered – for a meaningless fling. For her, it’s all about making them want her, and the resulting power she has over them. [There’s also a rather gratuitous scene, describing in unnecessary detail the unpleasant sexual fetish of one victim]

Eve Polastri

“Eve Polastri is looking down at Lambeth Bridge and the wind-blurred surface of the river. It’s 4 p.m. and she has just learned, with mixed feelings, that she is not pregnant.”

Even on the most superficial level, the small-screen version of Eve is radically different. In the book, she’s British and aged 29. The change in nationality was something BBC America required. Given their audience, it’s somewhat understandable, despite the resulting, somewhat clumsy need to explain why a Yankee is working for the British security services. That Sandra Oh is two decades older than the original Eve diminishes the suggestion in the novel that Eve and Villanelle are two sides of the same coin. Both are professional, childless women who have turned to their work, to the exclusion of almost everything else. Instead, the generation gap creates other echoes, almost a mother/delinquent daughter relationship.

Despite her youth, book Polastri has risen to become the head of her department at MI-5, which arranges special protection for visitors to the UK who are deemed at risk. She’s already intrigued by the whispers of Villanelle she has found, but this becomes a full obsession after the assassin takes out a Russian fringe politician on Eve’s turf, causing the civil servant to lose her position. Both versions then have Eve being recruited for an off-book operation to hunt Villanelle down, cutting ties with her previous colleagues.

This brings tension to Eve’s marriage with Niko, though much more so on television. In the book, while they still have their disagreements when Eve puts work before previously-arranged social engagements, there is a reconciliation (of sorts) towards the end. Niko and his academic pals help Eve crack a USB password, the device containing information that leads to an operative associated with The Twelve inside MI-5. Their marriage is certainly in a far better place at the end of volume one, than series one.

Eve vs. Villanelle

She knows who I am. Killing Simon was a message, addressed to me. She was saying I can take you, and the people you care about, any fucking time I want…”

It’s at the nexus of the two main characters, in their relationship, that the TV series and book diverge most drastically. Because, in the novel, there pretty much isn’t one. Eve and Villanelle have virtually no conscious interaction at all. Emphasis on conscious, since the most time they spend together is when the killer slips into the spy’s Shanghai hotel room while Eve is sleeping and “inhales her warm smell.” What there is, is strictly adversarial: Eve regards Villanelle solely as a threat who must be stopped. “It’s just beginning,” are the three words from Eve with which the first book ends, as she puts a Glock 19 pistol in her bag. There’s little doubting her intentions.

What Phoebe Waller-Smith did in the show, was broaden and deepen that relationship, in a myriad of ways, both little and big. It feels more like Clarice Sterling and Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs, with a charming psychopath playing games against a dogged, somewhat dour bloodhound. By deepening the discord between Eve + Niko, and her overall discontent with life, and playing up Villanelle’s bisexuality, the TV show has added a slab of unresolved sexual tension between the pair, which simply wasn’t present in the first book. It has certainly helped make the show become a firm favourite in the gay community, though thanks to the wonderful performances of Oh and Jodie Comer, it’s far more than ghetto TV.

I do have concerns, however. In a Reddit AMA, Jennings said, “The fandom drives the success of the books and the show, and also influences it. Killing Eve: No Tomorrow would be a different book if I hadn’t spent time listening to fans.” It seems a perilous route for any creative person, to let the consumers dictate where your story goes. I’ve already seen Xena: Warrior Princess destroyed when its makers started pandering to the demands of gay fan ‘shippers. Will Killing Eve go the same way? We can only hope it doesn’t.

Fallen Sun: The Great War, by Harule Stokes

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

While not perfect, I think this one will probably end up sticking in my mind longer than most of the books I read. For one, it helps being a stand-alone and complete work, rather than the first of a multi-volume set. While I understand the rationale behind the latter – that’s where the bread and butter of writing income is made – it was refreshing to get a beginning, middle and proper end, without a cliff-hanger or opening for sequels. It was also different in content, rather than being yet another book which drops fantasy creatures like elves or vampires in a contemporary setting. I’ve seen enough of those this year, thankyouverymuch.

Instead, this takes place on a planet in the late stages of a brutal war between the Northern Alliance and Keynosa. Both sides have developed artificially-enhanced super soldiers, known as Fingers of God (FoG) or Guardians on their respective sides. It’s a brutal process, which few survive, and even those who do, risk an eventual collapse into psychosis. Beyond that, the two sides have different approaches: the Northerners exploit technology, while the Keynosians use biological weapons, in particular transforming the planet’s flora into lethal agents. After a long struggle, the Northerners are making a push for victory. However, their opponents are now also using their technology against them, which could potentially tip the balance of the conflict back to Keynosa.

The protagonist here is Jocelyn Martinez, a former teacher who is now a FoG. Her closest allies in the force are Ophelia, another FoG who is beginning to crack at the seams, and Patricia, a sniper who is still human. Like all soldiers – on both sides – they’re treated like mushrooms by their leaders. For instance, it turns out the anti-psychotic drugs FoGs need to take, interact badly with RX, the weedkiller sprayed in vast quantities to negate the Keynosian bioweapons. It’s hardly as if the FoGs need such problems, above and beyond mere survival. Yet as the end of the war approaches, the question looms: what do you do with  ultimate soldiers once peace breaks out. Making matters worse is Frank Sun, a FoG who went violently insane previously, but has now been released back on to the battlefield for the last push.

Initially, it’s all somewhat confusing, with much not immediately explained. It’s worth persevering, as Stokes does a very good job of getting inside Jocelyn’s head, and depicting the apparent contradictions therein. She’s capable of savage brutality, and the horrors of war are certainly not glossed over; yet Joceleyn is also tremendously loyal and willing to put herself in harm’s way for her comrades. The story also does a good job of switching perspectives, although the heroine encountering the “enemy” and finding – what a surprise! – they’re not so bad, was rather too obviously handled for my tastes. Fortunately, both the book and Jocelyn achieve redemption with a rousing final battle, and it’s almost enough to make me wish this had been another “Part one of” book. Almost

Author: Harule Stokes
Publisher: Wave One Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book.

Hell on Route 666, by Dan Leissner

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

At the very end, of the characters says to Cat, the heroine, “Will someone PLEASE tell me what this was all about!” I can kinda sympathize with them: I think it’s safe to say this defied expectations, though I must stress, in a good way. It’s close to 12 years since we were first introduced to Cat; not sure what Dan has been doing in the interim, but I was delighted to find a second volume had finally arrived. Re-reading our review, I probably should have been less surprised: the original managed to have a plot combining “black militants, white supremacists and aliens from outer-space.” I had managed to forget the last, so was expecting merely another funky escapade of seventies style, sex and violence.

Yes… and no.

Initially, it seems almost like a cross between Dennis Wheatley and Russ Meyer, with Cat investigating and infiltrating a Satanic cult based around heavy metal group 666, whose teenage fans are being mind-controlled into committing increasingly heinous crimes in the name of the Devil. But the further on we go, the more outrageous things get. 666 are entirely discarded, with a Devil-worshipping rock-band becoming positively mundane. We end up heading for territory that’s more like the Book of Revelations adapted by H.P. Lovecraft – oh, yeah, and throw in a demonic version of Bumblebee from Transformers, because… Well, just because. Except, Lovecraft wouldn’t have a kick-ass heroine like Cat, breaking limbs and hearts with equal confidence. Or an all-girl commando platoon. Or quite so many pairs of tight jeans, inevitably worn low on the hips…

I did have some issues in the opening third, mostly because Cat wasn’t all that likeable, to be honest. Not sure if I’ve changed, she’s changed or the world has changed, in the twelve years since the first novel. Probably a bit of each. She seems to spent an inordinate amount of time stoned, dressing/acting to attract the male gaze, yet simultaneously resenting it. “Jeez! What a bunch of low-lives,” is a sentiment she expresses at one point; “Shit! Just look at them… bunch of no necks and beer-bellies. God, I hate this crap!” at another. Apparently, she’s the only one allowed to overtly express any sexuality. She certainly has no qualms about seducing a boy of “barely 16”. Reverse the genders there, and it would play rather differently, to be sure.

It was only later, I realized, perhaps this might be deliberate – expressing a darker side to Cat may be why the Satanists were so keen to bring her over to their team. However, I prefer my heroines a bit less… whiny! Still, even in this difficult first third, Leissner packs a wallop, particularly with his chilling descriptions of the mind-controlled terrorism. And the deeper we get, the more Cat relies on her actions to define her. That, and the continually escalating apocalypse make for a real downhill avalanche of a read, one that eventually becomes entirely unstoppable. Dan promises we won’t have to wait until 2031 for the next installment. He’d better live up to that, or I’ll be swinging past to know the reason why.

Author: Dan Leissner
Publisher: Midnight Marquee Press, available through Amazon, for now only as a paperback. I received a review copy in exchange for an honest opinion.
Book 2 of 2 in the Cool Cat series.

The Pact Series Omnibus One, by Alex Villavasso

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

This got off to a frankly rocky start, to the point that a few pages in, this felt like it might become a very rare DNF (Did Not Finish) book. It’s an incredibly clumsy and stilted opening, depicting the internal conversation between Sailor Ray and the demon who inhabits her. Literally, “Why am I reading this?” bad. Still, I persisted: and in the end, the story redeemed itself, though the final third was considerably weaker overall.

Sailor comes from a family of hunters, and after an incident where her father was killed and she was mortally wounded, she made a deal with the demon Vartal. He would save her, and let her take vengeance on those responsible for the death of her parents; in return, once she has had her revenge, he can have her soul. The best thing you can say about that agreement is: well, it made sense at the time. She’s now suffering a hardcore case of buyer’s remorse, and while trying to track down the perpetrators, is also attempting to figure out some way she can renege on the deal.

This omnibus collects the first three volumes in one: Sailor Ray and the Darkest Night, Sailor Ray and the Dark Descent and Sailor Ray and the Beautiful Lie. Though at a total length of around four hundred pages, this is basically not much more than regular novel length. Key to salvaging the book is Sailor, and in particular her savage approach to the demons, with little thought for their human vessels, who are deemed unsalvageable more often than not. She likes to blame this brutality on the insidious effects of Vartal; I think the nasty truth is, it’s as much her own inclinations as “the devil made me do it.”

The first two parts concern her investigation into a drug called Sphinx, which makes the user more susceptible to possession, though the connection to her parents’ deaths is vague. It’s being sold out of a nightclub in her base of Chicago, and her attempt to infiltrate the club leads to multiple deaths of friends and enemies – both on the night and thereafter. The highlight, however, is likely the flashback sequence where she relives the death of her father. This took place during a particularly ferocious battle against devil worshippers and hellspawn called sweepers – described as “a huge, demonized praying mantis/earthworm hybrid.” Damn. It’s very solid action-horror, and feels like you’re reading about the final boss in a particularly malevolent Resident Evil game.

The third volume takes a severely unexpected right turn, with Sailor and her gal-pal Val going on a road-trip. Their car breaks down at a diner; fortunately, the owners take care of them and invite them to stay until the vehicle is fixed. While it’s highly obvious something bad is going to happen, it takes far too long to do so, with the pair sitting around watching television in the meantime. It’s about as interesting as that sounds. Again, Villavasso redeems himself at the end with some crunchy ultra-violence. The overall impact is remarkably uneven, with the very final section almost red-herringing much of what has happened to that point. Yet Sailor is such an abrasively fiery character, I might still want to check in on her progress down the line – at least in a further omnibus.

Author: Alex Villavasso
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, as an e-book only.
Books 1-3 of the Pact series.

Mortal Engines, by Philip Reeve

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

Spoiler warning. I will be discussing parts of the novel’s story as well as things that may – or may not – go on in the movie adaptation.

Background & backstory

When former illustrator Philip Reeve’s first book, Mortal Engines, was released in 2001, he couldn’t have known it would be that successful. Coming out amidst the Harry Potter craze and Lord of the Rings movies, the book market had started to focus on young adult novels, very often with fantasy or SF-themed plots, resulting in a sharp increase in their sales. For a time that worked very well: I like to see how these genres, usually only occupying a little niche in bookshops, were getting their own big areas, shelf over shelf filled with books of this sort. However, I also saw traditional books for boys and girls, well-liked evergreen children’s classics for decades like Pippi Longstocking, The Robber Hotzenplotz and the books of Michael Ende, more and more pushed out by the Harry Potter type. That personally hurt me a bit as I grew up with all these classics.

But things have changed. Traditional book shops seem to have become a thing of the past, with more and more people seeming to order books online. Books themselves seem to have become an oddity, with every second person reading e-books on their Kindle and the young adult genre seems to be dead now. Few of the many authors walking in Joanne K. Rowling’s footsteps were able to compete with her enormous success. Though the YA genre would enjoy other successes such as The Hunger Games or Twilight, this genre really seems to have seen its day. Even in the cinemas, many attempts flopped. Percy Jackson never became a franchise; Divergent ended before its final part; and did anyone really watch the last movie in the Maze Runner series?

While some numbers give cause for concern, such as a drop in book sales in  the last four years, there is also positive news as classic children books seem to have made a comeback, in film form. German cinemas enjoyed new movies based on The Little Witch and The Little Ghost (Otfried Preußler), Hannie & Nanni and the Famous Five (Enid Blyton), The Boys from Castle Horror Rock (Oliver Hassencamp) and Jim Knopf (Michael Ende). A new Robber Hotzenplotz book has also come out, 45 years after the last one – and 4 years after author Otfried Preußler’s death!

But I digress. ;-)

Reeve’s book came out in the midst of the YA craze and was received very well. It obviously proved popular enough that the author would follow this success with 3 sequels, 4 prequel novels, an illustrated guide and a short novella. Film-maker Peter Jackson had been interested in the series since 2008. But the idea of enormous cities rolling overland was not translatable to the big screen with then-available CGI. Add his own sudden involvement with the Hobbit movies (originally to be directed by Guillermo del Toro), and the idea stalled. Now, it seems these hurdles have been cleared, and though Jackson left directing to his prodigy and co-worker for 26 years, Christian Rivers, we finally saw a movie version of the first book in December.

But what are these books – specifically, the first – about?

Summary

Reeve invented in his first book a rich colourful world which plays far, far in the future but feels definitely retro. Aficionados know this kind of genre which often is labelled “steampunk” – or in this case even “dieselpunk”. But Reeve, as well as Jackson and Rivers in recent interviews, stress it’s not quite that, but rather incorporates elements of steampunk as well as of post-apocalyptic science-fiction with the Young Adult approach of something like let’s say… Harry Potter. It should be also noted that the idea of “cities on wheels” had already been used before in Edgar Rice Burrough’s “John Carter of Mars” series.

In the book, the world has been devastated by a terrible conflict, called the “Sixty Minute War”, thousands of years ago. It destroyed most of the ecology of the earth: earthquakes and volcano eruptions were caused by the aftermath of that war. Traditional knowledge about our world, our history and our technology has been lost. New knowledge has replaced it, that has changed the way people live in this post-apocalyptic world.

In order to survive, people have found a way to put entire cities and towns on wheels. These now roll over land and through dried-out seas, in order to capture and “devour” other cities, whose parts and elements are used to fuel their own city and replenish resources. The captured inhabitants of those cities may be integrated into their captor’s society or be sold as slaves. Transport to or discovery of other cities is managed via fast airships.

The story revolves around young orphan Tom Natsworthy, third assistant in the Guild of Historians, who works in a museum. Things seem to be going fine for Tom and his dreams of a better life, as he meets Thaddeus Valentine, a key figure in the city of London. Valentine seems very positive towards Tom, and his daughter Katherine seems to take a liking to him. At least, until a girl with a scarf across her disfigured face tries to kill Valentine. Her attempt is thwarted by Tom, though he can’t prevent her from falling into a waste chute during the subsequent chase. She had just revealed her name to him as Hester Shaw, information which proves so embarrassing for Valentine, he throws Tom right behind her.

That is just the beginning. Out of need, Tom joins the young woman in order to get back to London. They experience a series of adventures on their journey involving a city in the air, pirates, cool aviatrix Anna Fang, a big city not on wheels but hiding behind a big wall, and a forgotten weapon of mass destruction called “Medusa” from the Sixty Minute War. Shocking revelations are… ahem… revealed to the characters and readers, resulting in a finale that leaves no eye dry, and with a death toll that would have Game of Thrones nodding in approval.

I don’t think Reeve planned this book to become the first in a series, or he wouldn’t have written such a definitive ending. I suspect book two, which I haven’t read, will probably have to kind of “re-start” the series. But it’s perhaps fortunate he did, for as we say in Germany, it means he’s really making “nails with heads”. That means he’s not above making tough decisions, which readers may not expect (or even approve of, had they known beforehand). As far as I’ve heard that’s something that he stays true to, for the remainder of the series.

Style & themes

Reeve writes in a very fluent and “readable” style. He gives descriptions where they are needed but doesn’t exaggerate them. It’s definitely the writing style you expect in a YA novel (this is not meant to be negative at all). Very often, he lets you into what his characters are feeling or thinking, without the characters articulating their thoughts or emotions directly. Sometimes I wish he would be a bit more direct, but then I think Reeve believes in the old “actions speak louder than words” approach, and has his characters give verbal explanations only where he deems them necessary.

The story is told from different perspectives, Mainly it alternates between Tom and Katherine, so that one chapter describes Tom’s and Hester’s exploits and the next reveals what Katherine and her tame wolf  discover. These are interspersed with chapters from other perspectives and sometimes longer descriptive passages, mostly about the cities. A nice trick Reeve plays, is often having a chapter end with a little climax or “Aha!”-moment. It leaves the reader wanting to know what happens next – only to have another person’s story in the next chapter. This is an effective storytelling technique to keep your reader’s interest awake.

Principally, my feeling is that in this first book Reeve is still “trying”, but the rich- and inventiveness of his fictive world is already there. He seems to be “finding his voice,” and according to others who have read his follow-up books he has succeeded better in these. The basic idea of cities on wheels that “eat” other cities is intriguing, and that image must probably also have been what may have captured Peter Jackson’s imagination.

Whether there is a deeper meaning behind the book’s story is left to the reader’s own interpretation. Though without much effort I can see a couple of possibilities. Isn’t there right now a “culture war” happening, with different cultures battling it out over dominating each other? And aren’t many employees forced, day in and out, to travel to locations far from their respective homes for work? Where is your real home if you are constantly being asked to be “flexible”?

A couple of years ago, I was in Brighton where people explained to me that this is actually “Brighton & Hove” but the two united into one over time. While for the tourist it presents itself as one city, the inhabitants still can tell you exactly where Brighton ends and Hove begins – a very good example of a “real” city “devouring” another city. I’m not saying Reeve may have intended any of these associations. Maybe he just saw The Spy Who Loved Me with a big ship swallowing submarines! Interestingly, the main villain is London’s Lord Mayor Magnus Crome, and his last words are: “I just wanted to make London strong!” I couldn’t help reading the line as “I just wanted to make London great again!” While that’s my own mind playing practical jokes, considering the book was written 17 years ago, maybe it has acquired contemporary resonance?

A recurring motif of the novel seems to be that things don’t necessarily turn out as planned. In the beginning, Tom dreams of making a career, and in his day-dreams experiences an adventure with him as the hero and a beautiful girl at his side. Instead, he finds himself literally tossed out of his comfort zone by his almost-mentor, his hopes having dissolved into dust within a moment. He’s stranded in the outside world with a disfigured girl on his side, who is far from being nice or friendly (at least at first).

Similarly, Thaddeus has big plans and understandable motivations, having made a career after acquiring devastating ancient technology by killing Hester’s parents. He ends up pressured by Crome, and all of his hopes go down the drain at the end of the story. Valentine may be a villain but he’s more a fallen hero – Reeves wins extra points with me for not falling into the trap of creating simple “good” and “evil” characters. You may even feel some pity for Valentine as Hester does at the end when she decides to spare his life. We’ll see how the movie will handle these aspects of the novel!

Again and again, Tom and Hester have to counter new problems and challenges on their way back to London. Reeve may be saying that you can make a difference and change things for the better, despite being in an unfortunate position, by working hard to overcome one’s personal hurdles. To me, it’s a very positive message that reminds me of the basic tenor in my preferred YA series The Wardstone Chronicles by Joseph Delaney.

The girls

I almost forgot about the girls – though I’m not really sure if I would call this a GWG book, since the main protagonist in this volume is definitely male. First, there’s Hester Shaw, the young, disfigured woman out for revenge. Though she may be the most prominent overall character of the series, she isn’t so in this book: it’s Tom. I’ve heard that the second book is told from her perspective, with her being center-stage, while book 3 and 4 are focused on her and Tom’s daughter, Wren. This reminds me of some other literary characters: for example, Lisbeth Salander was a supporting character in the first Millenium novel, as was Hannibal Lector in Red Dragon.

Here she’s mainly a supporting character. After her initial attack on Valentine, which she survives badly wounded, Hester doesn’t do much for the next 100 pages and is mainly half-carried around by Tom. He has the biggest character development, finally deciding to help the “anti-tractionist”, those who are against the moving cities and live behind the walls of Batmunkh Gompa. Still, it’s a strange, unique character Reeve has created: Hester isn’t really sympathetic at first sight and not a beauty on any sight, but the reader slowly warms up to her. Her life-story hasn’t been a beautiful one, she has similarly “fallen out of paradise” like Tom, but doesn’t show much empathy for him.

Her disfigured face leaves her far from a beauty queen; maybe this was Reeve’s intention, to point at the fact that we too often judge just by that what we see on the surface than what’s inside. In contrast, Valentine who comes across as likable at first and is described as an honorable, remarkable man – only to try to murder Tom moments later. What I find strange is that obviously in the promotion of the movie, Hester is in the front of the marketing material (as in the movie tie-in version of the book above), and the powers that be have definitely dialed back on her ugliness. This makes little sense. The original idea seems to have been it was this hideous scar which made Hester the tough, harsh character she is. In the trailer, the actress playing her is a very beautiful young woman with two eyes, an unharmed nose and some, well… let’s call them scratches on her face which do not really require to be hidden. It feels a betrayal of the original intent for this character.

Maybe it’s enough that the villain killed your Mom. But why, then, put a scarf around that girl’s face and advertise it with, “Some scars never heal”? Some fans have already voiced their disapproval of what’s typical for Hollywood. Remember how Brienne of Tarth was so much more “eye-friendly” in the Game of Thrones TV series than the books? They see that disfigurement making a huge statement: not every female character has to be a typical beauty to be a heroine (although Hester probably falls more in the category of anti-heroine) and there even existed an online petition with the intention to change it. This worked as well as the one to replace Ben Affleck as Batman before the production of Batman vs. Superman.

I personally think it takes quite a bit away, from a character who always wears that red scarf when depicted on a book cover. There are also fan drawings and paintings online that show how Hester could have looked with her terrible scar, without appearing downright nightmarish. I can’t help but suspect the studio (maybe Jackson, Rivers or the make-up department) realized that they have a very cool character on their hands – then lacked the conviction to go with it, and watered the character’s appearance down. Just my 2 cents.

Another important character is Katherine Valentine. She is a good person, regrets the presumed death of Tom whom she liked, and with the help of a young engineer and her own tame wolf “Dog”, slowly discovers the big secret of her father’s and Magnus Crome’s secret plans. She definitely plays a bigger, more active role in this book than Hester. Actually, I’m astonished that she is not the poster-girl for the up-coming movie, or even obviously in the trailer, as she does really much more than Hester Shaw, though the fails in the end.

Finally, there is Asian aviatrix Anna Fang (known as “Feng Hua” to her air collegues). She is working for the “anti-traction league” and helps Tom and Hester more than once. She has a nice sword fight with Valentine at the end, but unfortunately loses to him. Obviously Reeves regretted that decision later. I read that when he met the actress who plays Fang in the movie Korean singer Jihae), it inspired him to write a book of short stories all about her character, published under the title Mortal Engines 05: Night Flights.

Conclusion

Mortal Engines is a very readable YA novel, which can also be read by grown-ups without any problems. It’s fast, action-paced and never gets boring, though it could have had some more work done in the character depiction of Hester. Reeve creates a rich, fascinating and colourful fantasy world with some good surprising “A-ha!”-moments and doesn’t make life easy for his protagonists. He doesn’t flincg from describing grisly situations, physical battles or blood, and surprises his readers with outcomes for his characters you wouldn’t necessarily expect. I never regretted having bought this book, without any specific expectations. I might even be interested in buying book 2, which some people – including Peter Jackson – claim to be better than the first.

Author: Philip Reeves
Publisher: Scholastic Inc., available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Mortal Engines series.

Sanyare: The Last Descendant, by Megan Haskell

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

Nuriel Lhethannien, known as Rie, is an orphan human in a multi-verse, populated by elves, vampires known as sidhes, trolls and a host of other magic creatures. She has a job as a messenger for King Othin, the ruler of the Upper Realm. But when she’s attacked by assassins from the Shadow Realm, she’s in deep trouble. For such is the enmity between the realms, that Othin decreed, “Anyone in contact with the Shadow Realm, in any way, would be executed.” To save her own life, Rie has to become even more of an outlaw, and journey down below, seeking to find the truth about who attacked her and why.

The Shadow Realm is no more keen on Upper Realmers, and Rie’s boss, Rolimdornoron, demands she be arrested and returned for punishment. Fortunately, Rie’s heritage provides some unexpected assistance, along with the combat training given by her foster father, the head of Othin’s guard. She’s also helped by Prince Daenor, who has issues of his own to handle in the intrigues of the Shadow Realm court. Oh, and a small flock of highly carnivorous pixies.

It’s a solid read, which might have benefited from slightly more fighting and less talk. My opinion there is likely skewed by the lack of any real climax in that department – perhaps a result of this being the opening volume. Action-wise, the book peaks about 40% in, when Rie and Daenor have to battle their way past the guards of a master smith who made the weapons used to attack the heroine. And there are a lot of guards. It’s an especially good sequence; I was waiting for anything similar to show up the rest of the way, and was disappointed. Things instead ended in something closer to a royal courtroom, before a reveal which I found a bit too obvious. Let’s say, the title alone is a bit of a giveaway to the fact that Rie’s “orphan” status is not quite what it seems.

The political machinations are well-handled, dancing on the fine line between complex and convoluted, and I appreciated the way Rie drags herself up by her own boot-straps, despite humans being seen as “second-class citizens” by many elves. The romantic feelings she has for Daenor are also somewhat conspicuous, yet they manage to avoid getting in the way of the story – it helps they’re largely unrequited, at least, in this section [score one for opening volumes, yay!]. I reached the end somewhat interested in seeing where things go, though likely not quite enough to justify any immediate further purchase. With her skills apparently continuing to blossom, and some new friends (and relations) in very high places, there hasn’t been enough sense of a threat to Rie established to leave me interested in finding out more. I don’t feel as if my time was wasted, however.

Author: Megan Haskell
Publisher: Trabuco Ridge Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Sanyare Chronicles series.

Maggie for Hire, by Kate Danley

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

Maggie McKay is an inhabitant of two overlapping worlds, courtesy of her genetics and upbringing being a little bit from both. Her father was from the “Other Side,” but her mother was from Earth, and they lived here until Maggie’s awakening talents of her own necessitated a quick departure back to the O.S. She still operates mostly in this realm, hunting down and dispatching the nastier denizens who sneak across: vampires, ghouls, werewolves, etc. This everyday work gets escalated, when she discovers her previously unknown (and not very nice) uncle, Ulrich, has teamed up with a vampire clan, to acquire a pair of artifacts which control portals between the sides, and also allow the vamps to walk in daylight. Unchecked, this could lead to chaos, and it’s up to Maggie and her elf sidekick, Killian, to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Blandly generic urban fantasy, it’s the kind of book I finished reading on Friday, and am struggling to remember much about on Monday. This is not to say it’s bad, and going by the fact that this series has reached 10 novels (not including a trio of holiday specials, with titles like My Maggie Valentine), there’s clearly a market for this kind of non-threatening light action. It just isn’t anywhere near me. It feels as if the writer tossed a hundred other urban fantasy novels into a blender, and poured the resulting smooth, pastel pink concoction directly onto her own pages. For there are hardly any elements here which I haven’t read, probably about a hundred times before. From the world-threatening villain, all the way through to the unresolved sexual tension with the devastatingly attractive (aren’t the partners always?) Killian. Yawn…

It’s all unrepentantly old-school, e.g. the vampires can’t come in to a building unless they have first been invited. Which is fine, except when Danley has Maggie and Killian chased by the bloodsuckers into a motel, where… Well, absolutely nothing happens, because the vampires can only hang around outside, before eventually getting bored and drifting off towards dawn. It’s an entirely pointless incident, and does nothing except bring home how crappy “traditional” vampires are as antagonists. There are good reasons most incarnations of them beef up the threat level considerably. The whole “portal” thing is also kinda confusing and executed somewhat sloppily: Maggie seems to be able to open them up at will… except when doing so would offer an easy escape from a threat.

Trying to carry out a critical appraisal of this is hard; it’s like trying to write 500 words reviewing vanilla pudding. I’ve had to work harder on this piece, than almost any of the other novels I’ve covered, and just knocked half a star off the literary rating as a penalty. Maybe such savagery will teach Ms. Danley a lesson.

Author: Kate Danley
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 10 in the Maggie MacKay Magical Tracker series.

Bring It, by Seeley James

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

It took me about six years after reading the series opener to get back to the adventures of one of my favorite action heroines, Seeley James’ Pia Sabel; but I only wish I’d done so a lot sooner! Some of my comments in my review of the preceding book, The Geneva Decision, are relevant here as well, and that review also explains something of the premise and who Pia is. In this second book, we learn significantly more of her backstory (and the revelations are corkers –but no spoilers here!).

However, I liked this book even better. Here, there were no interspersed deus ex machina revelations to jump over plot obstacles, and for the most part I could visualize the action scenes better (with only a couple of exceptions). I attribute this to the author’s increasing skill at writing. A review by a Goodreads friend had stated that Pia isn’t the main character in this novel; I also knew that Seeley had opted here for using Sabel Security agent Jacob Stearne as a first-person narrator (actually, his narrative thread only comprises part of the book), and that Pia is kidnapped early on by the baddies. Since, for me, her character is the main draw of the series, all of this was somewhat off-putting; I feared that she would be largely inactive and off-stage here.

But I needn’t have worried; I would definitely dispute the assessment that she’s not the main character, and I can categorically guarantee that she’s neither inactive nor off-stage! Although the two characters are distinct and not clones of each other, in some ways Jacob reminds me, in his personality and his relationship to Pia, of Peter O’Donnell’s Willie Garvin and his relationship to another kick-butt heroine, Modesty Blaise; both Willie and Jacob are utterly clueless in their certainty that recreational sex is a perfectly harmless pastime and that any woman they meet should be a potential partner, and both are apt to prompt some eye-rolling moments from readers who aren’t similarly clueless. (There’s no explicit sex in the book, however.)

They differ, though, in that while Willie adores Modesty, he thinks it would be an impermissible “liberty” to entertain romantic fantasies about her, but Jacob definitely has romantic fantasies about Pia. (Of course, he also has feelings for another of our old friends from the first book, his colleague Agent Tania –but that doesn’t inspire fidelity to either woman.)

Another aspect of this book that’s superior to the first is the seriousness of the theme, because here the author takes a hard fictional look at the real-life underbelly of America’s Deep State, where an out-of-control, largely unaccountable security apparatus can too often be run by sociopaths who think only in terms of “us against them” rather than right vs. wrong, see morality and law as quaint superstitions, and can and do carry out outrages (up to and including murder) against innocents, including American citizens. (Yes, the horrors of Operation Snare Drum here are fictional –but there have been documented crimes by U.S. government personnel or “contractors” that aren’t fictional.)

To his credit, Seeley doesn’t portray this as a partisan issue with just one establishment party as the bad guys, because it isn’t; it’s not a Republican vs. Democrat issue, but of decent Americans of whatever party label vs. traitors to our ideals regardless of what party label they use. (Though this was written during the Obama administration, it’s set after it, with a fictional new President of unspecified affiliation.) It’s a needed eye-opener for any American who cares about the rule of law and ethics in government –which is why I’ve recommended it as not just for genre fans!

A quick disclaimer: Seeley and I are Goodreads friends (though he’s not very active here), but I bought my copy of this novel myself, and my rating wasn’t at all affected by his “friend” status.

Author: Seeley James
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 2 of 2 in the Sabel Origins series.

Contract: Snatch by Ty Hutchinson

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

Sei is a former assassin, who quit the industry after getting pregnant, then having her daughter stillborn. She has taken up a quiet life in the Belgian countryside, when she’s brought out of retirement by a shocking offer she received over the deep web. Her prospective employer says Sei’s daughter is not dead, and offers information in exchange for carrying out a job: breaking another assassin, the notorious Black Wolf, out of the Turkish prison where he is being held. After confirming with the doctor who was present that the claim of her daughter’s survival is true, Sei accepts the mission. However, it turns out she was set up as a patsy, and finds herself also incarcerated in conditions which seem not have improved much since Midnight Express.

It’s a little odd that Sei is described as an assassin, yet doesn’t actually do any actual… assassinating here. Sure, she certainly kills a lot of people, mostly members of Turkish law-enforcement (as well as a wild boar) – just not for money. Might have made more sense to begin by establishing Sei’s credentials in this profession; as is, the reader has to accept her skills on faith. Perhaps the vague hints of back-story should have been fleshed out more. There’s also a large debt to Kill Bill in the driving force of the story here: specifically, the end of Volume 1, when Bill says, “One more thing, Sofie. Is she aware her daughter is still alive?” To my great surprise – sorry, can’t find the sarcasm font – this element is left entirely unresolved at the end of the volume. Indeed, she’s little if any closer to finding the truth than when she leaves the doctor.

While I’ve qualms about the overall structure here, I did actually enjoy the meat of the sandwich more than the bread. That would be the mission to Turkey, including her initial attempt to free the Black Wolf, then Sei’s subsequent escape from incarceration and flight across the country, with evil prison governor, General Rakin Demir, leading an extremely hot pursuit. It’s a crisply paced saga of action sequences, that have an interesting variety to them, from her compromised attempt to free the Black Wolf, through to a climactic race from Cesme across the Chios Strait to Greece. While she’s mostly a solo operator, who prefers to rely on stealth, she ends up teaming with Kostas, a Greek who… well, let’s just say, his connections come in handy, and I predict, likely will do so again in future volumes.

As the review to this point should make clear, I’m in two minds about whether I’ll be going further, because certain elements I liked and others I didn’t. Sei’s a good character, and I appreciated the almost complete lack of romance to get in the way of the “good stuff.” But I get the feeling the saga of her daughter is going to be stretched out beyond the point of tolerance, to deceased equine level. Probably one of those cases where I’ll wait for volume two to be available at a discounted price.

Author: Ty Hutchinson
Publisher: Gangkruptcy Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 5 in the Sei Assassin Thriller series.

Pirates! by Celia Rees

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

Although I haven’t read much pirate-themed fiction, I find the premise interesting; so I’ve had my eye on this historical novel ever since the BC library (where I work) acquired it. It definitely didn’t disappoint! Set mostly in the early 1720s, with some stage-setting in the years leading up to those, this action-packed tale follows the life and adventures of first-person narrator Nancy Kington (b. ca. 1704), the daughter of a Bristol merchant, who finds herself packed off to the family’s plantation in Jamaica at the age of 15, and is subsequently led by circumstances to voluntarily sign articles on a pirate ship.

Pirates, of course, are sea-going robbers; by definition, they forcibly steal other people’s property for their own profit. Obviously, they’re off of the ethical strait-and-narrow path, and in shady moral territory. The piratical profession most naturally appeals to brutal and self-serving types who don’t have any particular moral sense or empathy with their fellow humans. (Some may be more brutal and selfish than others –and some spectacularly evil and sadistic types may find the pirate life an opportunity to gratify their propensities.) Like Robert Louis Stevenson before her, British writer Rees gives full recognition to that reality.

To a greater extent than Stevenson, though, she recognizes that there can be a range of nuanced moral qualities among pirates, with not all of them quite fitting that model –especially in a time and place where patriarchy and male chauvinism, legalized slavery, and institutionalized inequality and injustice greatly constrict many people’s lives and choices, and might render the right side of the law as morally dicey as life under the Jolly Roger. (That’s not unlike the situation in the Old West, or in medieval Europe, where “outlaws” might sometimes be decent people pushed outside the law by others using the system for their own gain.) Personally, I think that pirates who aren’t brutal and selfish as such, and who do have a strong moral sense and a concern for others, can be interesting characters in the ways they navigate the shades of grey that their position necessarily entails; and that’s true of our heroine here. (Yes, a lady who happens to be a pirate can be an honorable and admirable heroine!)

This is fiction in the Romantic tradition –that is, fiction that seeks primarily to evoke strong emotional responses from the reader, sometimes enhanced, as they are here, by extreme situations and exotic settings. The Romantic aim is fully fulfilled here; I was taken captive by this pirate right away, turned the pages as fast as I could at every opportunity, and experienced a wealth of complex emotions throughout the story. (It’s not, however, a “romance novel” in the Harlequin sense –though it has clean romance as one strand of the plot, which I appreciated– and it doesn’t “romanticize” things like piracy, slavery, and the grim realities of ocean-going life in the 18th century). It’s also fiction with serious food for thought, as well as rousing adventure, and a very moving portrait of cross-racial friendship. Like most modern Romantic fiction, though, it borrows Realist techniques, with a concern for verisimilitude and historical accuracy. (In common with some other authors, Rees used the contemporary nonfiction A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, which she and some others attribute to Daniel Defoe, as a key source.) Nancy’s narrative voice is engaging and quick-flowing, with a slightly archaic flavor in word choices and diction for realism, but is much easier to read than an actual 18th-century narrative would have been.

Born in 1949, former schoolteacher Rees is an accomplished novelist, the author of some 19 books, and a History major (she actually had a double major, but History was one). Her publishers market her books to the YA age group (and the BC library put this one in the Juvenile section on that account), in this case probably encouraged by the fact that Nancy and her friend and fellow pirate Miranda are in their teens. Bad language of the d-word sort is present but relatively restrained, rape or attempted rape and prostitution are part of their world but not portrayed in great detail, and while there are some very violent and grisly moments, Rees doesn’t wallow in them. The content here, IMO, wouldn’t be harmful to a healthy teen; and I could see plenty of teen readers of both sexes eating it up with a spoon and asking for more. But it could just as easily have been marketed as an adult novel; there isn’t anything stereotypically juvenile or “kiddish” about it. (Teens in Nancy and Miranda’s day were expected to grow up quickly, and our gals here definitely did –they have far more in common, in their capacities and general attitudes, with today’s adult women than they do with typical modern teens.)

This particular edition of the book has a moderately interesting interview with the author (originally published in a Michigan newspaper), and a few pages of discussion questions and activities, aimed at younger readers, that could be used for common reads in a book club or classroom. At the time it was published, the novel garnered a number of prestigious accolades from the likes of the American Library Assn., the International Reading Assn., etc. For once, I think it deserved every critical recognition it got (and I don’t often agree with the critical community!).

“You may wish me luck, or curse me for a damnable pirate,” Nancy writes near the close of her account. This reader opted for the first choice, without apology!

Author: Ceilia Rees
Publisher: Bloomsbury, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book