Tag: novel

Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi: The Jeanne D’Arc of India by Michael White

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

“Fear not,” she retorted with animation, “that I will suffer the indignity of capture at their hands. My dead body they may find, but the spirit of the Rani of Jhansi will have carried more than one of them to an accounting before the great tribunal of justice.”

“With the exception of a white turban, she was attired in a blood-red uniform from head to foot.”

I’m surprised how sympathetic a portrayal this novel has of Queen Lachmi Bai (as it’s spelled here), considering when it was published. For this came out in 1901, a point at which India was still firmly under British rule – heck, Queen Victoria was on the throne as the year began. Yet Lachmi Bai is very much the heroine, portrayed respectfully, to an almost idealized degree. For instance, it begins with the rebel massacre of British troops and their families at Jhansi. Yet this is depicted as being in explicit defiance of her command to secure them as prisoners.

It’s a mix of historical fact and pure speculation, the latter being particularly evident in a fairly platonic love triangle between the Queen, and two of her (entirely fictitious, I suspect) lieutenants, the Hindu Prasad Singh and the Muslim Ahmad Khan. The latter is the villain of the piece. His blood-lust is responsible for the massacre, and he is depicted in phrases such as “the expression of his mouth and chin denoted cruelty and treachery—the latter, perhaps, an accomplishment rather than a failing to the Oriental mind.” [While there is an argument to be made here for Islamophobia in his depiction, given the highly positive way Lachmi Bai and Prasad are portrayed, accusations of general “racism” seem lazy]

However, even he spends much of the middle portion working faithfully in support of the queen’s mission to free her country from the British. Speaking of whom, there is one scene early in the book told from the point of view of the Empire. But thereafter, they are largely referred to as “the Foreigners,” again demonstrating the Indo-centric viewpoint of the novel. While they ultimately prevail, this is not reported with any sense of triumph. Indeed, White is remarkably prophetic, Lachmi Bai saying, almost with her final breath: “Not forever shall their horsemen ride triumphantly through the land. A day will come when their law shall be no longer obeyed, and our temples and palaces rise anew from their ruins.” 46 years later, India did indeed become an independent country.

“But even if defeat is again the will of God, if die we must; is it not better to perish as warriors should, in a feat of arms upon which the eyes of our enemies will gaze with marvel, than as wild beasts hunted through the jungle?”

“Her horse leaped forward, straight for Sindhia’s guns.”

The story told here bypasses her entire life and marriage, joining proceedings after she has already become a widow. In the early stages, Lachmi Bai also takes a back seat, with the storyline revolving around Ahmad and Prasad’s rivalry. The former manipulates the latter into believing the Queen is having an affair with young officer Dost Ali, and also the Queen into believing Prasad is plotting against her. This leads to his exile for the middle of the book, until returning after the fall of Jhansi, as the Queen is making her escape from the city. Though I must say, Ahmad’s eventual fate is rather underwhelming, in a “Cersei Lannister” kind of way. Without getting too spoilery, hopes he would meet the point of Lachmi Bai’s sword proved unfulfilled.

The latter half focuses more on the Queen, as fate deals her cards both good and bad. It’s made clear the military reverses suffered are not her fault, or in any way reflect her bravery. Her commanders are to blame, along with a tendency for her forces to break under pressure. Yet, as the quote above says, she would rather have a glorious death than a subservient life. The comparisons to Jeanne D’Arc are understandable, and made explicit: “A second Jeanne D’Arc, as valiant in battle, more subtle in council than the Maid of Orleans, moved by the same passionate love for her country, had cast in their teeth a wager of defiance, to stand until either they were driven from her state, or she had perished.”

Of course, we know how the story ends, and White gives Lachmi Bai the heroic send-off she deserves: “She drew the folds of a shawl over her face to hide her death agony, and again lay down. The blackness of night grew deeper, the silence more intense. Presently, strange, warrior forms seemed to appear from the unknown and filled the Rani’s tent. One supremely beautiful figure, in dazzling raiment, came forth to enfold the dying woman in her arms.” It’s surprisingly touching, and a decent end to a story which has survived the passage of almost 120 years better than I expected

Author: Michael White
Publisher: J. F. Taylor & Company, available as an e-book for free from Project Gutenberg.

Blades of Magic by Terah Edun

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

Seventeen-year-old Sarah Fairchild and her family have become persona non grata after her father’s execution by the Algardis Empire. He was a renowned fighter and commander, so his alleged desertion makes no sense to Sarah. Regardless, his wife and daughter are now pariahs to the local community. Even with Sarah’s unparalleled fighting skills, both natural and magical, her employment opportunities are limited, to say the least.

Which is how she ends up acting as the guard at a warehouse full of shady artifacts, owned by the even shadier Cormar. There, she meets the scholarly Ezekiel Crane, who helps Sarah as she begins to search for the truth about her father’s fate – facts which someone is keen to cover-up, at savage cost to our heroine. Finding out what happened requires her to join the Mercenaries’ Guild, and head with them into the teeth of a ferocious battle being waged by Algardis against a rebel group, led by eight high-powered mages.

I suspect the problems here are mostly related to reading this as a one-off. For example, the entire first half of the book, with Sarah working for Cormar, serves absolutely no purpose except to introduce her to Ezekiel. Now, I’m thinking it’s quite likely there is a payoff further into the series, with the artifacts he collects eventually proving to be useful in the battle against the mages. But for the purpose of this book, it’s a complete dead-end. If a story is going to be crippled in this way by dividing it into four parts, maybe it shouldn’t be divided into four parts? It certainly does nothing to encourage me to pick up the three subsequent volumes.

When Sarah enlists, in order to find the man she believes holds the key to her father’s death, it does improve. There’s a nice dynamic at play between her abilities, which are almost at the superhero level, and her need to remain below the radar. I was impressed by the final battle, though it’s less a battle, than a rout, with the enemy wizards using the magical equivalent of drone strikes against the mercenaries. And I also liked the “sun mage” Sarah encounters: she is basically the occult equivalent of a nuclear weapon, and may be even more bad-ass.

At the end though, I was left unsatisfied. I appreciate it’s a difficult balancing act, when you offer a cheap introduction to a series, because you need to lure people in to buy the next part. Although not alone in this, Edun doesn’t apparently realize that the best way to accomplish this is simply to give the reader the best book you can. Baiting them with set-ups left unrealized and a story that just ends, rather than coming to a natural finish, is more likely to lead to a sense of unfulfilled dissatisfaction. And that’s no way to get anyone to fork over more money.

Author: Terah Edun
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Crown Service series.

No Safe Haven, by Kyla Stone

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

I’ve read enough action heroine novels now to be more than familiar with the tropes of the genre. For example, I can do without ever reading another novel which puts fantasy creatures like elves and magic into a modern-day setting. The zombie apocalypse is another scenario which has been done to death. I mean, we even abandoned The Walking Dead, and watching that was pretty much muscle memory. However, this novel proves there’s still life in the genre, offering some interesting twists on it.

Though, admittedly, it’s not strictly a zombie scenario. More a 28 Days Later one, with a highly-infectious global pandemic, transmitted by bites, etc. which cause the victims to become extremely aggressive. On the fringes of this is Raven Nakamura, a young girl who is rather disaffected with her current life. She lives in the middle of nowhere, helping her taciturn father run the Haven Wildlife Refuge, a private zoo in Northern Georgia. Mom has already bailed, and Raven is on the verge of doing the same.

Then terrorists release the Hydra virus, and when her father becomes among the infected. Raven is suddenly thrown onto her own resources. On the plus side, she had always been taught survival skills, so is in better shape than most people to survive the collapse of the food distribution network. On the other hand, most people don’t have to deal with a group of bikers, who descend on the Haven Wildlife Refuge. If they’d just looted the place and left, that might not have been too bad. But when they start shooting the animals, Raven have had enough. And so have the animals.

For, to mis-quote Chekhov, “If in the first act you have large, genetically engineered wolves and an irritable tiger, then in a following one they should be let loose.” Such is the case here: right from the moment Vlad the tiger arrives, you just know someone is going to end up becoming a gratifying buffet. The animals probably do more of the actual violence than Raven, which is why the kick-butt quotient is relatively low. However, this is made up for in its impact, particularly the emotional toll it taken on our heroine, who really just wants the bikers to leave her alone.

While set in the same universe as the author’s Lost Sanctuary series, it seems to operate as a standalone entity. I must admit, this was a story that crept up on me. I’m usually quite strict about how much I read in a sitting, but confess that this was one where “Just one more chapter” happened on a number of occasions. Seeing the entirety of Lost Sanctuary on sale for 99 cents, the day I write this review, became a no-brainer purchase, regardless of whether or not it qualifies for the site. Now, I just have to find the time to read it!

Author: Kyla Stone
Publisher: Paper Moon Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
A side story in the 5-volume Lost Sanctuary series.

The Zemlya Conspiracy by Cameron O’Neill

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

Zemlya is a gigantic closed city, in the middle of the Arctic tundra, its ten million inhabitants entirely cut off from the outside world. Indeed, there may not be an outside world: no-one knows, for the authorities hunt down and terminate anyone who tries to leave. One of their hunters is Kate Thorsten, an E-type agent, who has been brought up, and biomechanically enhanced, to be a ruthless tool of the state. She’s recalled from the tundra to go undercover in one of the Zemlya’s slums, her mission to take out a rebel base. However, an encounter with a young girl triggers a series of events which cause Kate to question everything she has been told. But are her new-found doubts genuine, or is she still being manipulated to serve the agenda of others, such as her department’s director, Matthew Wingett?

It’s an interesting combination of elements which are familiar from elsewhere: the undercover agent who might also be a double-agent from Total Recall, for example, or the artificially-limited life-span of Logan’s Run. Though the latter aspect – which you’d think would be kind of important – is treated much more as an afterthought than a major plot-point. As depicted, the overall scenario perhaps also poses more questions than answers. There’s an explanation offered for why Zemlya is the way it is. It kinda makes sense, yet with regard to how the city functions, I have some fairly major questions regarding resources. As well as, how was all knowledge of the way things used to be, so effectively repressed and isolation enforced – especially in a technologically-advanced culture. This was a significant impediment to my enjoyment, as I kept finding myself going, “But what about…?”

On the plus side, Kate makes for an interesting heroine. Perhaps keyed by that limited life-span (“The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long”), she’s very driven, though her hypernatural abilities does make most combat a foregone conclusion. There are probably only two battles where there’s any sense of threat: one in the middle, against another E-type; and then, the climax, after Kate has finally made her decision and committed to a radical course of action. I also liked the lack of romance – she’s highly work-oriented – and the way the motives for everyone, even those you could class as villains, make sense. You may not agree with their actions, yet you can see the logic which led to those choices being seen as appropriate.

It ends in a decent way too, tying up the loose ends while opening the door to future exploration. I genuinely don’t know where the story will go from the point at which it ends here, and am curious to find out. The sequel was on sale for 99 cents recently, and only my large virtual stack of “to read” stopped me from picking it up.

Author: Cameron O’Neill
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 2 in the Zemlya Chronicles.

Survivor, by Saffron Bryant

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

Nova is a bounty hunter, smuggler and generally survivor of life in the grey areas of legality. In need of a quick buck to fix her space-ship, she takes on the hunt for a couple of escaped fugitives. She locates them working in an archaeological dig being run by the Confederacy – which is odd, since the planet in question was supposedly never inhabited. An unfortunate translation error ends up helping unleash a long-buried race of reptiloid extra-terrestrials, the Ancients – a species with both the inclination and the ability to wage genocidal war on the rest of the galaxy. And Nova is the only one left who can stop them.

This is remarkably gripping for a story which contains little more than two human characters: Nova, and Codon, the Confederacy scientist in charge of the excavations. Everyone else is taken out of the equation quite early; I guess you could marginally include Cal, the Class Four Laborbot, who helps Nova on her ship? Yet it goes to show that, in the presence of a strong story-line, you don’t need a large cast. This pits Nova against the Ancients in straightforward terms, and it seems a one-sided battle – until she’s captured, and is harshly interrogated. The mental torture inflicted on her has a strange effect: I’d be hard pushed to explain exactly what, but it seems to give her some abilities involving the fourth dimension.

It’s not quite time travel: nothing that controllable. Yet it’s along those lines, and is not the only moment at which the story reminded me of an episode of Doctor Who. The whole “one person bravely facing down an alien enemy” is definitely Who-esque. though unlike the Doctor, Nova has no qualms about getting her hands dirty, when necessary. As in any story which plays with time, there is potential for paradox, and I’m not certain this is rock-solid in that aspect. There are a couple of other plot-holes too: for example, the force-field which keeps Nova on the planet, suddenly goes away at the end, for no other reason that it needs to.

Still, it’s a solid page-turner, and I was particularly impressed by the complete lack of any romantic angles. Ok, the only male to be found is Codon, and he’s a bit of a dick, to put it mildly. However, it remained refreshing: I’ve read (and discarded) my share of thinly-disguised romances in action-heroine clothing, thank you very much. Nova, in comparison, seems the real deal. I also enjoyed the sequences where Nova’s reality is on very thin ice: conveying a psychotic break isn’t easy, yet Bryant seems to capture the thoroughly unsettling sense of having no idea what’s “real”. Where will Nova and her uncertain abilities go next? I’m keen to find that out.

Author: Saffron Bryant [a.k.a. “Saff”]
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 10 in the Nova Chronicles. [Amazon calls is 2 of 11, but the first book there is really a prequel, so is #0]

Sendero, by Max Tomlinson

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

When you think of drugs, terrorism and South America, Colombia probably comes first to mind, thanks to Pablo Escobar and his cartel pals. However, it’s far from the only country in the region with a troubled history. Peru has had its fair share of strife: it produces virtually as much cocaine, and the Marxist guerillas of the Shining Path movement fought a long, bloody war against the government through the eighties. It’s during this time that the novel begins. Young girl Nina has her father killed by soldiers hunting the guerillas in her rural village, and her brother Miguel vanishes to join the Shining Path.

More than two decades later, Nina has grown up to become a cop in Lima, with the dirty war against the Shining Path apparently over – the terrorists have now, effectively, merged with the drug traffickers. She encounters Malqui, the former village priest who spent eight years in prison for protesting the murder of Nina’s father, and mentions knowing someone who had recently met Miguel. However, before she can get any more information, Malqui is picked up by the authorities and vanishes into the dark network of secret prisons. For it seems the dirty war is not as over as is publicly stated. To rescue Malqui – and perhaps be reunited with her long-lost brother – Nina is going to have to get her own hands dirty as well.

I must confess, I confused the title with “sicario,” the drug cartel term for hit-man. Between that and the cover, I was expecting something… different. Turns out, sendero is Spanish for “path” – and those who support the guerillas. Quite whether this includes the heroine is an interesting point. After the death of her father, it seems odd for her to end up as part of the government authorities, yet she becomes part of the “resistance” as she seeks to locate and free Malqui. Though by the end of the book, it’s clear that the remnants of the Shining Path are no more the solution either, with their morality little if any less problematic. The entire novel could be printed in various shades of grey: even Nina is prepared to do bad things for what she perceives as a good end.

As such, it’s a very thought-provoking read, and opened my eyes to the history of a country about which I had never known much previously, and its social and political struggles. If there’s a weakness, it’s probably the way in which Nina ends up taking a seat in the second half, with the story’s focus shifting to Miguel and his colleagues in the Shining Path [though among them, Comrade Inez does partly fill in for the lack of Nina]. It’s a shame, for Nina is an excellent heroine: one who never forgets either where she came from, or where she wants to be, and is willing to risk everything for others, in a highly altruistic manner. Hopefully, the second book is all Nina, all the time.

Author: Max Tomlinson
Publisher: Sendero Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 2 in the Sendero series.

Forgotten Gods by S. T. Branton

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

Vic Stratton is a woman on a mission. She’s seeking out Rocco Durant, the New York mobster who was responsible for the deaths of her parents five years ago. With the cops unable to do much, she turns vigilante, and is finally on the brink of taking her vengeance when…Well, things get cosmically weird: specifically, “something both large and seemingly on fire blotted out the whole skyline across the river with its brightness.” She ends up fishing a man out of the river, who was carrying a glowing sword which makes fast work of Durant’s henchmen. Turns out, the man, Marcus, is a former Roman legionary: centuries ago, he became a guard in Carcerum, a realm to which a selection of unpleasant deities were banished by King Kronin.

Now, Kronin is dead, killed by his oldest ally, Lorcan, and Marcus needs to find a hero, worthy of carrying the Gladius Solis, the only weapon capable of keeping the gods in check. However, they are beginning to make their presence felt on Earth, and Vic isn’t the only person to have made a new friend following their dockside encounter. Durant has become an underling to Lorcan, and has picked up some disturbing new talents and character traits. For Lorcan is planning to put together an army of the undead, and is using Durant and his contacts to further that end, creating a “vampire factory.” Durant is vampire #1.

I enjoyed this. It doesn’t hold any surprises in terms of where the first volume ends – the cover pretty much gives that away! But the ‘odd couple’ relationship pairing of Vic and Marcus works well, and is occasionally surprisingly poignant. Vic’s original misgivings seem justified, when Marcus is unable to grasp the concept of an “actor”, but the two end up needing each other more than it initially seems. He needs her as a guide through the very different modern world. While as well as learning the art of fighting, she needs him to break opens the scar-tissue of deep cynicism, with which she has increasingly been affected since her parents were killed.

I’d call this first volume mostly set-up, and it’s only at the end where Vic comes into her own. In particular, she kicks into high gear when she has to rescue Marcus from a truly hellish situation in the vampire factory. The resulting sequence, involving a pit of vampires in production, is messy, to put it mildly. It demonstrates Vic’s take no prisoners attitude: she has had that since the beginning, and when combined with Marcus’s training and the Gladius Solis, eventually make for a powerful heroine. The journey there is entertaining though, and this was very much one I “watched” as much as read, the story playing out in my mental cinema. [The ‘gangster turned vampire’ aspect reminded me of Innocent Blood] Further volumes in the series have been marked for potential purchase.

Author: S. T. Branton
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Forgotten Gods series.

Element 42, by Seeley James

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

Earlier this year, because he knew that I’d greatly liked the two previous Sabel Security novels, my Goodreads friend Seeley James gifted me with the e-book editions of all of the remaining five. This was just an act of friendly generosity, with no actual request for reviews; but I’m glad to treat them as review copies, and (as always) to review them fairly on their merits. This book’s merits earn it very high marks, which came as no surprise to me!

Unlike some series, this one really should be read in order; you need the background of the first two to fully understand the characters and premise, and the previous experiences that shape their situation and relationships. (My reviews of the previous books, also provide background for this review, and a lot of the earlier comments would also apply here.) Here, Pia and her team of veteran agents stumble onto a scheme that clearly involves unethical biological research on natives in the jungles of Borneo. What else it ultimately involves –well, that would be telling, but plumbing the full depth of what’s going on will have our gallant band of heroes/heroines (where gender is concerned, Seeley’s an equal-opportunity writer!) facing danger and death on three different continents, with LOTS of lives, and maybe the future of mankind, at stake.  It’s worth noting that, while Pia earns her three-star kick-butt quotient here, we have at least three action-capable ladies among our characters here (one of whom is much more lethal than Pia is), and another one who grows unto the role.

Like the previous book, this one interweaves two narrative strands, one in third person and one in the first-person voice of Sabel Security agent Jacob Stearne. Also like the previous one, its premise builds a fictional narrative on the real-life realities of actual geopolitical problems and a world ruled by elitist corporations and governments that are almost totally devoid of any ethic except self-centered utilitarianism, and in the grip of a hubris that’s willing and eager to play God. (No, we don’t have any concrete evidence that anybody’s planning a scheme like the one depicted here –but at the same time, it’s a pretty plausible guess that there are plenty of people in high places who at least contemplate it, or would if they calculated they could pull it off.) Of the three books I’ve read to date, this one has the most action, with an almost manic pace, and the highest body count. We also have some more revelation of what makes Pia tick psychologically, and a hint of more revelations to come about the murder of her birth parents when she was five years old. (She’s operating to a big extent in vigilante mode here, but for me that’s not necessarily a negative thing; the book will force readers to consider how they feel about that, and my personal opinion of it is that it can be morally justified at times.)

The plotting is complex, and the chapters tend to end on cliffhanger notes, only to switch back and forth between equally precarious narrative strands. Seeley knows a great deal about high-tech surveillance equipment, weaponry, etc., and makes liberal use of what he knows here; but the reader doesn’t have to share that knowledge –we can just accept that things work the way he says they do, and go with the flow. If one had unlimited time to read, this would be a quick read; it took me nearly two months to finish only because I read it irregularly here and there in electronic format. (I’d have blazed through it a lot faster in paper format, and would have read it in one sitting if I could have!) No spoilers, but the ending was particularly good.

My reaction to the read wasn’t without a few quibbles. Although I sometimes got lost in plot details and couldn’t remember a connection, etc., I think that was mostly because of the piecemeal way I had to read the book over a span of weeks, not due to deficiencies in the narration. Mostly, I could follow the action sequences (not always; they’d be clearer in movie format, and this would be a great subject for movie adaptation!). But on at least three occasions, characters with their hands tied behind their backs reverse that by, apparently, jumping backwards through their own arms. I don’t believe this is physically possible, no matter how athletic the person is; and even if it was, I think it would result in two dislocated shoulders. Seeley also tends to forget details from previous books. It was established in the first two books that persons shot with Sabel Security tranquilizer darts need to be injected with an antidote to prevent possible allergic reactions (if I correctly recall the explanation); that requirement disappears here. Jacob specifically mentioned in the previous book that fellow agent Carla was married; here he tells us specifically that he never knew anything about her marital status, and it’s made clear that she’s single.

Bad language is probably within the limits of realism, and there’s no explicit sex (though, Jacob being Jacob, we’re not terribly surprised in the opening scene when he’s rousted out of bed, and is sharing it with a recently-met woman). But the revelation, at one point, of past messed-up sexual escapades and inter-relationships among some of the characters (not Pia) is so off-putting it inspires eye rolling. (However, while I recently dropped another series because I discovered that the author wants us to believe his protagonist really has conversations with animals, I don’t believe Seeley really wants us to believe Jacob has actual conversations only he can hear with the Roman god Mercury. IMO, we should understand this simply as a hallucinogenic coping mechanism when he’s not on his meds, and the “warnings” from that source as really deriving from a sixth sense and highly-keen natural senses and instincts. I could be wrong, though….)

Regardless of quibbles, though, I really liked the book and continue to really like the series. I’m invested in it for the long haul, though It’ll be autumn before I’m able to get to the next book. But I’ll be champing at the bit!

Author: Seeley James
Publisher: Machined Media, available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Sword of Order, by S. Mays

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

Book 0 in the series? It seems a little odd, as this obviously leads in to the “first” book – Curse of Souls, published in September 2017 – yet Sword came out just three months later. Reading the synopsis, it seems as if Curse may be focused on a different character: college student Sverre Walker, who encounters Jessica Luvkrafft, warrior for the Order of Mankind. Sword is the story of how Jessica became that warrior.

The Order is a massive, ancient, extremely well-funded and completely covert religious organization which, more less, fights for humanity against things that go bump in the night. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, elementals… They’re all real, and the Order is in the front-line of making sure the threat they pose does not overwhelm the human race. As Jessica’s father Jake puts it, “We are the Sword of God. We were put here to eliminate the evils and abominations that seek to overrun our world.” To do so, the Order uses all the technology they can, much of which is developed in house, and not available even to the military.

Jake is a former field operative who now does R&D at one of the Order’s bases. His wife, Abigail, was killed on a mission, leaving him to take care of their daughter Jessica, who is aged 12 when the book starts, and in training. What’s supposed to be a simple mission ends up in the death of the Order member in charge (he was, to put it mildly, a bit of a dick). Even though Jessica was culpable in the fatality, by order of the Council of Overseers, she is fast-tracked to be his replacement. Getting there will require her overcoming her guilt, undergoing some brutal training, and passing a test where the price of failure is both death and her immortal soul.

That’s just the start, and it does feel a bit of a weakness that the book tries to cram in an entire decade’s worth of action. By the end, as mentioned above, Jessica is old enough to go undercover at college and there are a couple of points where it seems multiple years are skipped over with the wave of a paragraph. It also lacks a proper antagonist, with no-one showing up to fit that role until 70% of the way through. On the positive side, it’s a world with almost infinite potential, and I liked the way religion is incorporated into the book in a non-judgmental way.

It does end at a satisfactory point, with Jessica being given the mission that will form Book 1. If it didn’t appear that she’s a co-star at best in that, I’d be more inclined to read it. Despite the flaws and jerky pacing (as well as a cover that’s rather… different to the techno-warrioress we actually get!), Mays has laid the groundwork for a decent heroine in Jessica, and the prospect of her eventually going up against Countess Bathory is an intriguing one.

Author: S. Mays
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 0 of 2 in the Warrior of Souls series.

Pieces of Modesty, by Peter O’Donnell

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

The six stories in this collection of short fiction featuring iconic heroine Modesty Blaise were all originally published in the Australian publication Pix in Jan.-Feb. 1970. O’Donnell intended them to be published in book form with illustrations by Jim Holdaway, then the artist for the Modesty Blaise comic strip; but Holdaway died that year, and the book-form collection wasn’t published for another two years. (See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pieces_of_Modesty .) In the interval, however, at least one of the stories, “A Better Day to Die,” was reprinted in an American magazine (I don’t recall which one), where I read it –I think in the spring of 1970, while I was still in high school. It was my first introduction to the character, and one of very few exposures I’d had in fiction to a kick-butt heroine (they were much less numerous in my youth than they’ve since become). My teenage self was pretty awe-struck by Modesty in action; so that gave me an abiding interest in her fictional exploits, although this is still only the second book by O’Donnell that I’ve read.

While this is the sixth installment of the series, because the stories are strictly episodic and not connected to each other, and are set at various times in the 60s, they don’t really have to be read after the first five novels to be understood and appreciated. (It would probably be best to read the first novel first, just to provide a foundation.) In a couple of stories, references are made to events, and characters reappear, which are probably drawn from the novels; but any information about past events that we need to know is supplied. Five of them are written in third person; “I Had a Date with Lady Janet” is unique in that Willie narrates it in first person, which helps to develop his character more deeply. The settings are mostly British or continental European, with one tale taking place in South America. All six adventures involve Modesty in a wide variety of situations, which illustrate various aspects of her personality and abilities; that may explain the collection’s odd title. (Don’t worry –Modesty is not dismembered!)

O’Donnell writes with a very readable, professional style, and creates captivating story-lines centered around well-developed characters. His plots aren’t overly convoluted, and their various elements dovetail nicely; that doesn’t keep some of the stories from having surprise twists, which grow naturally from the soil of the tale itself, as legitimate surprises should. (I did guess the general outline of one, before the author revealed it.) This is, of course, action-adventure pulp fiction; unusual, extreme and sometimes life-threatening situations are the norm, and our main characters are larger than life. That doesn’t mean the writing lacks literary quality, nor that it’s without realism, psychological and otherwise. Neither of those are in fact lacking; and neither is moral vision, and the ability to evoke serious thought about ethical questions. The author just evokes the kind of thought about them that today’s literary-critical clerisy doesn’t welcome, because he thinks that right and wrong are real categories, and that virtues such as courage, loyalty and justice actually ARE virtues.

In commenting on individual stories, I want to avoid spoilers. I’ll say simply that “A Better Day to Die” presents a serious, balanced and fair debate between absolute pacifism and the position that violent resistance to murderous and other harmful aggression is a legitimate last resort to protect the inoffensive, including oneself. (Modesty maintains the latter, and O”Donnell clearly agrees with her, as I do –but she respects the pacifist position.) “The Giggle Wrecker,” set mainly in East Berlin in the days of the Cold War, brings back the memory of that era vividly, and to my mind refutes the claim of some that there was an absolute moral equivalency between the West and Soviet totalitarianism. Willie’s narrative and “A Perfect Night to Break Your Neck” are noteworthy for their positive portrayal of physically handicapped characters (both of whom not only pull their weight, but enjoy serious romantic relationships with partners who appreciate them as persons).

“Salamander Four” is the only selection here that indicates Modesty’s openness, on occasion, to uncommitted sex (although there’s no explicit sexual content there, or in any of the stories), but the psychology of it is understandable and she comes across to me as misguided rather than callous and selfish –it’s clear that her intention isn’t knowingly to be hurtful or exploitative. Finally, “The Soo Girl Charity” is the most disturbing of the stories, in that (though without being graphic) it provides a look into the dark reality of the exploitation of women by sexual sadists, and into the even darker reality of what pounded-in cultural brainwashing of females to accept patriarchy and male domination actually does to their psyches. (I didn’t feel that the victim here being Asian indicates racism or cultural stereotyping; I think that simply reflects a reality that, at least in the 60s, traditional rural Asian cultures still tended to promote that kind of brainwashing to a greater degree than Occidental ones –even though the sexism of our culture is bad enough.)

One quibble I had with the latter story is that I thought the premise had Modesty and Willie acting (at least, for their current post-Network situation) out of character in a couple of respects. A more important issue was with a comment about a brutal gang rape of a teen girl that occurs in one of the stories. That the incident could realistically be expected to happen, given the mentality of thugs put in a position to dominate unarmed females, I don’t deny (sadly, it would be more unrealistic if it didn’t); O’Donnell doesn’t treat it graphically and clearly disapproves of it. But afterwards he has Modesty thinking, at one point, “Just as well it had been Rosa. She was a sturdy peasant type with nerves like sisal. In a little while she might even begin to relish the cachet of having been raped by guerillas.” To be sure, the author doesn’t suggest that she relished the rape itself. But in the first place, I don’t think being raped carries any cachet, in a culture that sees virginity as a valuable commodity and sees rape victims as “damaged goods.” In the second place, I can’t imagine that this would be a reaction Rosa would ever have, nor that the idea would be one that Modesty (who was a rape victim herself in the past) would ever think. It comes across as the kind of insensitive, emotionally tone-deaf perception a male author might have who doesn’t have any real ability to imagine the actual psychology of a rape victim.

Overall, though, these caveats didn’t keep me from really liking the collection as a whole. Modesty is one of my favorite action heroines, and one whom I see as, on the whole, a pretty good role model –she has her faults, which are recognizable; but if both male and female readers pick up on emulating her virtues, they’d find a great many to aspire to. I’m glad to have spent this interlude in her fictional world, and still hope to read more of the Modesty canon eventually.

Author: Peter O”Donnell
Publisher: Souvenir Press, available through Amazon, currently only as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.