Soul Music - Terry Pratchett

   1995; 3739 pages.  Book 16 (out of 41) in “Discworld” series.  New Author? : No.  Laurels : #151 in the “Big Read”.  Genres : Humorous Fantasy; Satire; British Humour.  Overall Rating : 9*/10.

 

    The music is magical in Ankh-Morpork.  Especially the tunes being played by a newly-formed group, “The Band With Rocks In”.  It has listeners tapping their feet, snapping their fingers, and swaying with the beat.  What’s next, people fainting in the aisles?

 

    The wizards at the Unseen University are concerned.  The magic emanating from The Band With Rocks In is not one of their incantations.  An investigation is called for.  They’ll soon get to the bottom of things.

 

    Meanwhile, the Grim Reaper himself, Death, has taken a leave of absence.  It falls upon his granddaughter, Susan, to fill in on a temporary basis, even though she has zero experience swinging the scythe.

 

    So in summary, it’s just another normal day on Discworld.  Let’s go see Band With Rocks In down at the local pub tonight.

 

What’s To Like...

    Soul Music is first and foremost Terry Pratchett’s salute to the 20^th century music business.  In a nutshell, he plops it down in Discworld, among its dwarves, trolls, wizards, gods, and magic, and postulates how similar its development would be when compared to our world.

 

    This includes such things as forming a band and recording its music so that you can listen to it anytime, anyplace.  A number of our-world music idols received subtle nods from Pratchett.  For instance, one character is named “Satchelmouth”, which I eventually realized could be condensed to “Satchmo”, jazz favorite Louis Armstrong’s sobriquet.  Similarly, Imp, a bard whose guitar-playing is magical, is referred to as looking a bit “elvish”.  Well, he is short in stature, but there is a second way to interpret that “elvish” comparison.

 

    It is also fascinating to watch the coming-of-age of Susan.  She starts out as a student at a girl’s boarding school, and has a unique talent – she can turn invisible whenever she’s bored.  What a great way to skip boring classes!  But being the step-grandchild of Death forces her to come to grips with the Facts of Death (as opposed to the Facts of Life), and learn to pick up the Scythe, ride grandfather's horse Binky, team up with a rodent called "Death of Rats", and carry her family duties.

 

    Most of the tale takes place in Ankh-Morpork, so a lot of familiar characters show up, including C.M.O.T. Dibbler, the Librarian (ook!), Lord Vetineri, and Corporal Nobbs and Sergeant Colon of the City Watch.  Being a chemist, I also enjoyed the several times that Chemistry is resorted to, including using the compounds Calcium Carbonate, Ammonium Chloride, and an rare chemical that my company used to manufacture, Ammonium Sulfide.  Wowza!

 

    As with any Discworld novel, the two main storylines rapidly split into a bunch of secondary ones, which keeps the pacing brisk.  As (almost) always, Terry Pratchett eschews the use of chapters , but that just means you can stop for the night at any paragraph break you encounter.  The ending is more heartwarming than exciting, and ties up all the plot threads tidily.

 

Ratings…
    Amazon:  4.5/5 based on 6,236 ratings and 432 reviews.

    Goodreads: 4.06/5 based on 84,620 ratings and 2,875 reviews.

 

Kewlest New Word ...

Plangent (adj.) : loud, reverberating, and often melancholy.

 

Excerpts...

    The class was learning about some revolt in which some peasants had wanted to stop being peasants and, since the nobles had won, had stopped being peasants really quickly.  Had they bothered to learn to read and acquire some history books they’d have learned about the uncertain merits of things like scythes and pitchforks when used in a battle against crossbows and broadswords.  (pg. 39)

 

    “He says to tell you,” said Albert wearily, “that a chit of a girl means a small girl.  He thinks you may have misheard me.”

    Susan hunched up in the chair.  Albert pulled up another one and sat down.

    “How old are you?”

    “Sixteen.”

    “Oh my.”  Albert rolled his eyes.  “How long have you been sixteen?”

    “Since I was fifteen, of course.  Are you stupid?”  (pg. 76)

 

“Never give a monkey the key to the banana plantation.”  (pg. 218)

    As is normal for a Discworld novel, there’s only a smidgen of mild cussing in Soul Music.  I counted just six instances in the first third of the book, all of which were eschatological ones, and there are no adult situations to shield juvenile eyes from.

 

    There were two punctuation typos: The/Then and Fit’s/Fits.  I thought there was a spelling typo (surelly/surely), but it turns out that Imp’s accent results in prolonged emphasis on any “L sound” in his speaking.  My only other quibble is that two of my favorite City Watch characters—Sam Vimes and Carrot—didn’t make it into the tale.

 

    That’s all I can nitpick about.  I always have high expectations when starting to read a Discworld book, and once again, Terry Pratchett did not disappoint me.  Only two books from the series remain for me to read (I’m not reading them in order), and it will be a bittersweet day whenever I finish the entire series.

 

    9 Stars.  One last thing.  There may be no chapter divisions, but Terry Pratchett’s trademark Footnotes are still plentiful here.  Also, if you’re new to the Discworld series, there’s a handy Glossary in the back of the book, which closes with a Discworld Trivia Quiz.  Fantastic!

Normanghast - Robert Rankin

   2023; 332 pages. Book 9 (out of 9) in the “Brentford Trilogy” series.  New Author? : No.  Genres : Absurdism; British Humour; Far-Fetched Fantasy; End of the World.  Overall Rating : 8½*/10.

 

    The end of the world is coming!!  It’ll be via a nuclear holocaust.  And there’s nothing to be done to stop it.

 

    Well, there is one solution, as anyone who reads science-fiction can tell you.  To quote the great Meldrew the Magician, “Create a temporal paradox which might precipitate a causal loop whereby a future event, this being of the now, would influence a past event in such a fashion that the change would alter the future event which had caused it in the first place.”  Yeah, trying saying that three times real fast.

 

    Anyhoo, a slim chance is better than none at all, so why not send a couple guys back in time to create a temporal paradox.  And I just happen to know a duo who have experience in that.

 

    Elvis Presley and Barry, the time-traveling sprout from the planet Phnargos.

 

What’s To Like...

    Normanghast is the ninth book in Robert Rankin’s “Brentford Trilogy” series, or, if you believe the Amazon blurb about it, Book 12 (out of 9) in the “Legendary Brentford Quadrilogy of Trilogies”.  Amazon also lists the order of the nine books in this series, but frankly, you don’t need to read them in that manner.

 

    The author describes his writing style as “farfetched fiction”, and I think that’s accurate.  The main storyline concerns saving the world from nuclear annihilation, but lots of other plot threads quickly pop up.  A need arises for a foolproof way of telling a good person from an evil one.  Brentford’s dynamic duo, Jim Pooley and John Omally, are convinced they’re just a metal detector away from finding buried treasure.  Strange phenomena are happening on a nearby island.  And perhaps most serious of all, Brentford’s favorite pub, The Flying Swan, is in danger of being closed and torn down.

 

    If you’re a rabid Rankin reader, and I am, you’ll be happy to know all of his wacky characters and running gags are once again present in Normanghast.  I was particularly thrilled to see “the lady in the straw hat” have a prominent role in this book.  The storyline is also graced by not one, but two, characters named Elon Musk, much to both of their dismay.

 

    I loved the subtle nod to one of my favorite authors via a slight corrupting of the town’s name to “Brentfforde”.  It was neat to see Douglas Adams’s masterpiece, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, get mentioned as well.  A bunch of music acts also get worked into the text, including Captain Beefheart, The Fugs, Pink Floyd, Cannibal Corpse, Dusty Springfield, and Mojo Nixon.  I am amazed that Robert Rankin, a British citizen, has heard of, and indeed appreciates, that last musician.

 

    The ending is farfetched, fractal, frenetic, unforeseen, and fun.  Like the author, I love stooping to alliterative allusions.  All the plot threads are dealt with, although one of them turns out to be a MacGuffin.  There is room for a sequel, although I get the feeling Normanghast is Robert Rankin’s swan song.  If so, this is a great way to close out his career.

 

Kewlest New Word ...

Budgie Smugglers (n.) : a style of tight-fitting men’s swimming attire.  (Google it)

Others: Sweary (adj.); Stonker (n.), Gurning (v.).

 

Ratings…
    Amazon:  4.50/5 based on 0 ratings and 2 reviews.

    Goodreads: 4.50/5 based on 10 ratings and 2 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    The previous incumbent, Augustus Howe, for example.  This unfortunate had become convinced that his body was composed of cheese.  An obsession which had led him to taking many extreme precautions against being eaten by mice.  His doctor had eventually given up all hope of curing this folly and had recommended a nice long relaxing holiday upon a tropical island that was certified free of mice and all other cheese-eating vermin.

    Word had it that Mr. Howe had melted away on a sun lounger in Barbados.  Grilled to perfection.  (pg. 21)

 

    "The pussy cat/buttered toast enigma,” said Norman to Zara.

    “The whatever are you talking about?” said Zara in reply.

    “It is something that Hugo Rune wrote about.  He reasoned that a pussy cat when dropped from a height will always land on its feet.  And a piece of buttered toast when dropped from a height will always land butter-side down.  Therefore if you strap a piece of buttered toast, butter side up to the back of a cat and throw the cat from a high building the cat should just hover in the air.”  (pg. 266)

 

Kindle Details…

    Normanghast presently costs $5.99 at Amazon, but keep in mind this is a new release.  Robert Rankin offers another 3 dozen or so “far-fetched fantasy” e-books for your reading pleasure, mostly in the price range of $2.99-$7.99, plus one autobiography, I, Robert, which costs $9.00.

 

Elvis snored in the key of uh-huh.  (pg. 117)

    The use of profanity is sparse in Normanghast; I counted just five instances in the first 25%.  Later on, a recurring cussing trope is used, utilizing asterisks.  For example: “you ******”, and “and so I kicked the ******* in his ******* nuts”.  I very much like that innovation.

 

    Making sense of the storytelling is an acquired taste.  The “fourth wall” is breached numerous times, and Robert Rankin adheres to the advice of the incomparable Hugo Rune, who once said: “The best way to avoid losing the plot is not to have one in the first place.”

 

    I was surprised to see how often commas were missing when addressing someone in direct dialogue.  This happened ten times in the first 33% of the book.  There was one instance of a missing apostrophe, and I was amused by the chemistry typo of H²O instead of the correct H₂O.

 

    But these are quibbles.  For me, Normanghast was a literary delight.  I happen to love the writing style, and view it as a challenge to keep track of a dozen plot threads at the same time.  If you’ve never read anything by this author before, this probably isn’t the book to start with, but veteran Robert Rankin readers will find it a joy to learn what their favorite characters from earlier novels readers have been up to.

 

    8½ Stars.  One last thing.  The book’s title, Normanghast, never showed up in the story, which frankly left me perplexed.  But thanks to Wikipedia, I discovered it is a play on words for “Gormenghast”, a fantasy trilogy by Mervyn Peake.  I have Book One of that series, Titus Groan, on my Kindle.  If Robert Rankin thinks enough of it to give it a titular nod, I really need to read it.

Sprout Mask Replica - Robert Rankin

    1997; 350 pages. Book 1 in the “Completely Barking Mad Trilogy” series.  New Author? : No.  Genres : Humorous Absurdism; British Humour; Weird Fantasy.  Overall Rating : 7½*/10.

 

    The butterfly effect is a famous component of Chaos Theory.  In a nutshell, it states that when a butterfly flaps its wings in Brazil, it in turn may be the cause of a tornado in Texas.

 

    The butterfly doesn’t realize this, of course, but it is intriguing to contemplate a small change in a system resulting in significant and unpredictable consequences down the line.

 

    But what if the inverse was also true?  A tornado forms in Texas, a butterfly in Brazil senses it, and instinctively flaps its wings to cancel out the disturbance.  Let's call him "the compensator”.

 

    Our protagonist here is such a compensator.  He has a pretty neat gift, eh?  Well, maybe not.

 

    Because what happens if/when the butterfly stops flapping its wings?

 

What’s To Like...

    Sprout Mask Replica is written mostly (but not completely) in the first-person POV.  The narrator’s name is not given, but he goes by many monikers, including “The Chosen One”, “The Compensator”, the “Mystical Butterfly of Chaos”, and “Dog Breath”.  Since one of his relatives is “Uncle Brian Rankin”, we may logically assume this is Robert Rankin writing his autobiography.

 

    The book is written in English, not American, so us Yankee readers will get weird spellings, such as plough and jewellery; as well as odd phrases, such as “bit of a kip”, “soldier of toast”, and the nifty word “niffy”, which is defined below.

 

    A number of Robert Rankin’s recurring characters are featured here, which you’d expect in his autobiography, including Fangio, Neville, Jim Pooley, John Omally, and the inscrutable “lady in a straw hat”.  And I think this is where Barry the Holy Guardian Sprout is introduced, who becomes a major recurring character.  A portion of his background is given in one of the excerpts below.

 

    In between (most) chapters, Robert Rankin includes some poetry, which I found to be quite entertaining.  I enjoyed sitting in on the “All Brentford Open Lying Contest”, chuckled at the mangled French, and was happy to see my favorite type of word puzzle, “acrostics”, get a brief mention.  The author’s music references are impressive, one of which, The Sonic Energy Authority, may set some sort of record for “most obscure” band ever.

 

    The ending is both witty and enigmatic, which is the norm for a Robert Rankin opus.  The Chosen One finishes his book and heads out for a swim.  A spaceship departs, but I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of it.  All historical paradoxes are repaired.

    Or are they?

 

Kewlest New Word ...

Niffy (adj.) : having an unpleasant smell (British slang)

Others: Sporran (n.); Micturating (v.).

 

Ratings…
    Amazon:  4.3/5 based on 118 ratings and 30 reviews.

    Goodreads: 3.70/5 based on 848 ratings and 21 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    In those days I had a lot of time for Fangio, although thinking back I can’t recall why.  Certainly the guy was fair, he never spoke well of anyone.  And when it came to clothes, he had the most impeccable bad taste I’ve ever encountered.  He suffered from delusions of adequacy and his conversation was enlivened by the occasional brilliant flash of silence.

    Once seen, never remembered, that was Fangio.  Many put this down to his shortness of stature, for as Noel Coward observed, “Never trust a man with short legs, brain’s too near their bottoms.”  (loc. 970)

 

    “I was supposed to be on the job.  Your Holy Guardian.”

    “He’ll forgive you, you’re one of his angels, after all.”

    “Well.”

    “Well what?”

    “Well, I never said anything about being an angel.”

    “You said you’re my Holy Guardian.  That’s an angel, isn’t it?”

    “Well, it can be.  For some people.  But there’s an awful lot of people on Earth.  More people than there are angels, in fact.  Look upon me as your little gift from God’s garden.”

    “What?”

    “I’m your Holy Guardian Sprout.”  (loc. 2483)

 

Kindle Details…

    Sprout Mask Replica currently costs $6.99 at Amazon.  Robert Rankin offers another 3 dozen or so “weird fantasy” e-books, generally in the price range of $2.99-$7.99, plus an autobiographical I, Robert, which costs $9.00.

 

“Run and waggle, chief, run and waggle.”  (loc. 3337)

    There’s very little profanity in Sprout Mask Replica; I counted just six “damns” in the first 50% of the novel.  Insertions of other cusswords are “cleaned up” via appropriately placed asterisks (example: sh*t).  A number of “adult situations” are alluded to, but there’s nothing lurid.

 

    Typos are rare: one gum/gym booboo and a couple of comma misuses.  The title reference occurs at 93% Kindle, although I’m still not sure what it signifies.

 

    Don’t even try to find a plotline for the first 20% of the book; there’s none there.  Fortunately, Robert Rankin still keeps you entertained with his wit, anecdotal asides, and wry British humour.  The plotline does show up later on.

 

    Veteran Robert Rankin readers will find Sprout Mask Replica satisfying, but if you’re never read any of his novels, don’t make this your introduction to him.  The Amazon blurb says this is the first book in the “Completely Barking Mad” trilogy; but I don’t think it’s necessary to read the books in order.  Robert Rankin is loose with the concept of “trilogy”—one of his contains only two books; another contains eight books.

 

    7½ Stars.  One last thing, a nice tidbit of the abundant wit in the story.  “My brother’s favourite number was 300.  Because if you turn 300 on its side it looks a bit like a bum pooing.”  It's true! Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

And The Rest Is History - Jodi Taylor

   2016; 432 pages.  Book 8 (out of 14) in the series “The Chronicles of St. Mary’s”.  New Author? : No.  Genres: Time Travel; British Humor; Historical Adventure.  Overall Rating: 9½*/10.

 

    Clive Ronan is the biggest enemy that the Historians at St. Mary’s (don’t call them time-travelers!) have.  He routinely jumps through the security measures of St. Mary’s as if they weren’t even there.  And today is no exception.

 

    He apparently knows what jogging path his archenemy Dr. Maxwell (“Max”) uses, and has plopped himself on it.  Clive meets her as she comes trotting along, and has a surprising proposal for her: how about a truce?

 

    Naturally, Max is leery of it.  Neither one trusts the other, and both have good reason not to.  But she agrees to meet in a very open place of Clive’s choosing.  Namely, the Egyptian desert, 25 centuries in the past.  What’s the worst that could happen?

 

    Well, either party could arrange a double-cross.  Saharan desert storms can be killers.  The Time Police, who don’t particularly like St. Mary’s or Clive, could try killing two birds with one stone.  And the anthropomorphic muse called “History” might override everyone else’s plans in order to keep the correct timeline unchanged.  And you really, really don’t want to mess with History.

 

    But don’t call it Time Travel.

 

What’s To Like...

    And The Rest Is History is the eighth book in the Chronicles of St. Mary’s series by Jodi Taylor.  To no one’s surprise, the hastily arranged meeting betwixt Max and Clive runs amok immediately.  Clive feels that Max set him up, and vows revenge.  And if you’re reading this series in order (which I am), you know an angry Clive is a dangerous Clive.

 

    There is a pleasant balance of time travel and personal interaction ion the storyline.  Various St. Mary’s employees are in various relationships with coworkers, which can be a hazardous situation when you’re traipsing all over the historical timeline.  I like how Clive’s character is being developed; his “all black” persona is starting to turn just a bit “gray”.

 

    Once again, Jodi Taylor doesn’t skimp on the time-traveling.  The reader is treated to eight chrono-hops, including one to the future, one by others to St. Mary's, and several of them chronicling events leading up to the historically crucial Battle of Hastings in 1066 CE.  Yes, this is fiction, but it’s obvious the author did some deep research of the lives and aspirations of both Harold Godwinson and William of Normandy, and I learned a lot because of that.

 

    And The Rest Is History introduces three new characters to the series.  The first is Max and Leon’s son, Matthew.  The storyline hints that since he was born at an impossible time (due to his time-traveling parents) he has some very unusual talents.  Then there’s Adrian & Mikey, who reminded me muchly of Bill & Ted from their most excellent adventure movie.  They make only a cameo appearance here, but I have a feeling all three of these will play important and recurring parts in this series.

 

    The ending is, as always, exciting, historically enlightening, and spine-tingling.  St. Mary’s and the Time Police, who tolerate each other grudgingly at best, are forced to team up to carry out a rescue endeavor which turns out to be quite a gory affair.  Once the crisis is resolved, both agencies are more than happy to get back to their normal bickering and feuding.

 

Ratings…
    Amazon: 4.6*/5, based on 5,774 ratings and 476 reviews.

    Goodreads: 4.44*/5, based on 9,083 ratings and 687 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    “Are you a glass half full or a glass half empty person?”

    I said, “Well, it depends where you are at the time.  The Technical Section will say never mind whether it’s half empty or half full, the glass was obviously too big in the first place.  Dr. Dowson will tell you it’s not contemporary to the time period and you should be using a goblet.  The History Department will enquire what bloody glass?  The Security Section will be gloomily surveying the broken shards on the floor, and Mrs. Mack will just tell you to get out of her kitchen.”  (pg. 111)

 

    It takes a lot to catch St. Mary’s off balance.  Over the years, we’ve been attacked, blown up, gassed — several times actually, because Professor Rapson just can’t work out where he’s going wrong — mobbed by swans, crushed and drowned by a runaway monolith, the list is long and we’ve risen above all of it.  We’re St. Mary’s, we say, and our proud boast is that we can handle anything, and that’s true, but you can imagine my surprise and consternation when, out of the blue, a bloody great teapot materialised.  Right in front of us.  Right in the middle of the South Lawn and flattening a croquet hoop at the same time.  (pg. 325)

 

Kewlest New Word ...

Firkled (v.) : searched; rummaged

 

I’ve been at St. Mary’s long enough for the kookaburra of caution to hover over my head occasionally.  (pg. 352)

    The cussing in And The Rest Is History is negligible.  There were only three instances in the first 25% of the book, all of them “hell”.  Later on a couple more profanities were used, mostly the scatological word.

 

    As always, I greatly appreciated Jodi Taylor’s inclusion of a Dramatis Thingummy.  Here, however, it felt like the list of “Security Department” personnel was for some reason omitted.  The spelling typos were few: see/seen, though/thought, and, incredibly, Ort cloud/Oort cloud.  Punctuation typos were more numerous: at least one missing comma, one missing period, and a slew of missing “close quotation marks”.

 

    But these be quibbles.  And The Rest Is History was sheer delight to read, and fully deserving of those lofty Amazon and Goodreads ratings listed above.  The series shows no sign of succumbing to the “let’s just crank another one out” syndrome, I’m so wrapped up in this set of stories, I haven’t even had time to explore Jodi Taylor’s related series: “The Time Police” (5 books) and the “Frogmorton Farm” series (2 books).

 

    9½ Stars.  Acronym Appreciation Moment.  On page 317, the acronym SPOHB is used, which is short for Society for Preservation of Historical Buildings.  Shortly thereafter, the acronym BDSM is used, causing everyone at St. Mary’s to get all excited.  It turns out it stands for… well, we’ll let you read the book to find out, but its not what you think.

Only Human - Tom Holt

   1999; 344 pages.  New Author? : No.  Genres : Humorous Fantasy; Paranormal Urban Fantasy; Satire.  Overall Rating : 8½*/10.

 

    Everybody can use a vacation now and then.  Even the Creator of the Universe and his only begotten Son.  A fishing trip is great therapy for any Father/Son relationship.

 

    Unfortunately, the Universe doesn’t stop universing when its Maker steps away.  That’s why Heaven has a stand-by operating system.  It’s called a mainframe computer.

 

    Of course, you still need someone who can monitor the mainframe program.  In case of Armageddon, or a plague, or things of that ilk.  That’s where the Creator’s other only-begotten Son (say what?) comes in.

 

    His name’s Kevin, and his only task while Pops and Big Bro are on vacation is to sit at a desk and observer the actions that the mainframe is carrying out.  Don’t touch anything, have Martha the Heavenly tea lady bring you a cup of cuppa occasionally, and contact Dad if anything unusual pops up.

 

    What could possibly go wrong?

 

What’s To Like...

    Only Human is a 1999 standalone novel by Tom Holt examining the now-popular topic of Artificial Intelligence and its alleged threat to human existence.  Thanks to Kevin’s dimwitted meddling with the mainframe's keyboard, a factory worker becomes possessed by a computer; a girl in a painting is embedded in a human girl; a Prince of Hell, Artofel, gets zapped into the Vicar of St. Anthony’s body; and the Prime Minister of Great Britain finds himself turned into a lemming.

 

    The text hops around between those four bodynappings, plus a fifth storyline: Kevin’s frantic efforts to patch things up before God and J get home.  Subplots include efforts by the computer manufacturing company, Kawaguchiya Integrated Circuits, to fix their units, plus a bunch of rogue demons (but not Artofel who’s busy with his vicar duties) trying to do some evil whilst all the chaos is unfolding.

 

    Tom Holt has fun examining the Topside/Flipside (Heaven/Hell) relationships, the role of humans and lemmings in the Divine Scheme of things, and how politics and religion find their place in all of this.  The concepts of Good and Evil often get blurred, much to some of the characters’ dismay.

 

    There are some neat references in Music (Bruce Springsteen), Writing (Stephen King, Clive Barker), Art (Hieronymus Bosch), and TV (Mulder and Scully).  Tom Holt is a British writer, so it was fun deciphering things like Captain Mainwaring, aggro, prat, squimper, Jeremy Paxman, Sir Clive Sinclair, and the vocabulary words listed below.

 

    The ending comprises the entire 33-page-long final chapter.  All the plot threads get tied up, which is no small feat, since you have lemmings, demons, humans, and Topside residents to deal with.  By the time God and J make it home, all the galactic glitches have either been resolved or at least swept under the rug.

 

Excerpts...

    ”Ich bin ein lemming.”  He paused, struggling to reunite his train of thought.  “And lemmings united,” he added tentatively, “can never be defeated.”

    “Yes we can,” said a voice to his right.  “Quite easily.”

    For a moment, Fraud found himself speculating as to whether Destiny had got the wrong number.  “Yes, but—” he said.

    “United,” the voice went on, “we’re an absolute pushover.  It’s when we all split up and run about in different directions that the predators get confused and go away.  About the only thing we do when we’re united is jump off—”

    “Shhh!”  (pg. 163)

 

    “Your whole scam’s based on one basic error.  Sorry,” she added, “but there it is.”

    “Oh yes?  And perhaps you’d be terribly sweet and let us in on the big secret?”

    Maria looked thoughtful.  “It’s not really a secret,” she said.  “More sort of staring you in the face.  Just ask yourselves: why do supreme beings have mortals in the first place?”

    The demons beamed tolerantly.  “Atmosphere,” Buffy said.

    “Like potted plants in dentists’ waiting rooms,” Chubby added.  “You don’t need them, but it makes the place look a bit less sparse.”  (pg. 293)

 

Kewlest New Word ...

Jejune (adj.) : naïve, simplistic, superficial.

Others: Dozy (adj.); Welly (n.); Swarf (n.); Banjax (n.), Pinny (n., slang); Graunch (v.).

 

Ratings…
    Amazon: 4.2*/5, based on 135 ratings and 12 reviews.

    Goodreads: 3.80*/5, based on 1,570 ratings and 36 reviews.

 

If at first you don’t succeed, put someone else’s initials on the worksheet.  (pg. 265)

    The profanity is sparse in Only Human.  I counted just nine instances in the first 30% of the book, although that included one f-bomb.  I also noted just one typo: bd/bad.  We’ll blame the publishing house for that.

 

    Most of the negative reviews at Goodreads seemed to be those people who found the book's humor off-putting and those who were upset that God was being parodied.  Or both.  And/or the fact that they weren’t made aware that such deity-spoofing would occur.

 

    I thought Only Human was witty, entertaining, and thought-provoking.  But that's the norm for  me and any Tom Holt novel I read.  Everyone’s sense of humor is different, so here’s the litmus test:  If you've watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and were offended by the portrayal of God and the religious inferences therein, give this book a skip.  If, like most people, you found MP&THG one of the best movies you've ever watched, be prepared for a similar reaction to this tome.

 

    8½ Stars.  Oh yeah, one last piece of advice:  Psychomorphic Waveband Stabilisers.  Don’t leave home without them.

Lies, Damned Lies, and History - Jodi Taylor

   2016; 399 pages.  Book 7 (out of 14) in the series “The Chronicles of St. Mary’s”.  New Author? : No.  Genres: Time Travel; Humorous Fantasy; Historical Fiction.  Overall Rating: 9*/10.

 

    Chief Operations Officer “Max” Maxwell is leaving St. Mary’s!!  Well, it’s an amiable parting, and there’s a good reason for it.  Max is going to have a baby quite soon.

 

    She’s already on the “restricted list” when it comes to St. Mary’s primary function: time-traveling into the past to record historically important events.  Max is still allowed to chrono-hop, but she’s not allowed to go on any mission that might involve warfare or violence of any kind.  It’s for the baby’s well-being.

 

    Max understands the restriction, but it means the only assignments she gets are boring ones.  Such as her latest one: going to watch the coronation of some British king who’s in a scandalous marriage.  Ho.  Hum.

 

    But Max has a long history (pun intended) of having the time-jumps to which she’s assigned turning into dangerous adventures with harrowing escapes.  And there’s no reason to think that’s going to change just because an unborn child is coming along for the ride.

 

What’s To Like...

    Lies, Damned Lies, and History is the seventh book in Jodi Taylor’s excellent and exciting 14-book time-travel series, The Chronicles of St. Mary’s, where inept historians are the heroes is spite of their efforts.  Max is the main protagonist, and while Trouble usually finds her as she’s jaunting around the time-space continuum, here she willingly and knowingly creates her own bad mojo, and takes several coworkers down with her.

 

    Once again, Jodi Taylor conjures up all sorts of time-jumps for our historians.  There are nine chrono-excursions here, with Max being involved in eight of those, albeit quite unwillingly in one of them.  Almost all of the destinations here are within the borders of Great Britain, which is a bit unusual; normally one or two of the time-jumps are to places beyond the English isles.

 

    The story is written in the first-person POV, Max’s, which is true for the entire series.  I love the attention to detail in Jodi Taylor's tales.  It may sound trite, but I really can envision the historical settings presented in these books.  It’s also a plus that the text in these books sparkles with plenty of wit and a bit of snarkiness, yet also oozes with interpersonal tension.

    It's also neat that none of the characters in this series are completely black or white.  Max knows she’s doing something wrong and accepts the inevitable consequences.  Conversely, the "black hats" Time Police may be ruthless in dealing with those who alter the timeline in any way, but theirs is a dirty job that someone has to do.

 

    The book is written in English, not American.  That leads to some odd spellings and punctuation, but you’re also rewarded with a bunch of quaint British expressions, such as “knees-up”, “a bit of a kick around”, “cack-handed pillock”, “shame about the gob”, “complete girl’s blouse”, “banging on about me”, and my personal favorite “and Bob’s your uncle”. By comparison, our American “dialect” is sadly lacking in such colorful idioms.  And we won’t even mention the esoteric Latin-sounding expression “Illegitimi non carborundum”.  Yeah, you’ll want to google that one.

 

    The ending is reasonably exciting and includes a tension-filled race against time as well as a nifty plot twist that both Max and I never saw coming.  Everything works out for the good guys; although it can be said that everything pretty much works out for the bad guys too.  I like those kind of endings.

 

Ratings…
    Amazon: 4.7*/5, based on 5,863 ratings and 496 reviews.

    Goodreads: 4.42*/5, based on 9,919 ratings and 642 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    “I think we’ve done everything we can, don’t you?” he said.

    I nodded.  “Yes, I think so.”

    “As I always say – whatever the task you’re about to undertake, you should never neglect the basics.  Doesn’t matter what you call it – staff work, advance planning, spadework, foreplay – a little effort at the beginning always pays dividends in the end.”

    “Does Helen know you refer to your romantic interludes as spadework?”

    He looked over his shoulder.  “You’re not going to tell her, are you?”  (pg. 127)

 

    “Dr. Maxwell.  Advise us of your location.”

    The words bounced off the valley walls.  I was willing to bet if there ever had been anyone in the village below they weren’t there now.  They probably thought their gods were speaking to them.  It’s interesting to think that every major religion that claims to have heard the voice of their god might well have heard nothing more than the Time Police ordering some unfortunate to surrender at once, or be zapped with one of their sonic thingies.  I took a moment to wonder whether they could actually be responsible for the parting of the Red Sea, told myself not to be so bloody stupid, and staggered to my feet.  (pg. 380)

 

Kewlest New Word ...

Juggins (n.) : one easily victimized; a simpleton.  (British; informal)

 

Never again would I tease Roberts about his bum-fluff.  (pg. 161)

    There’s just a scant amount of cussing in Lies, Damned Lies, and History.  I counted only 8 instances in the first quarter of the book, the most common one referencing an excretory product.  Later on, one f-bomb appeared, as well as an informal reference to a female mammary organ.

 

    I only just two typos: th/the and Halcombw/Halcombe, and one missing close-quotation mark.  Kudos to the editor(s) for a job well done.  That’s all the nitpicking I can come up with.

 

    I found Lies, Damned Lies, and History to be another fine effort in this series.  I’ve been reading the books in order, and have yet to be disappointed in any of them.  They are all equal parts time-travel, historical fiction, and wry British humour, with hints of romance and save-the-world adventure blended in.  That’s a great recipe for a bestselling series.

 

    9 Stars.  I should mention that Jodi Taylor has at least three other series for your reading pleasure: The Time Police (5 books), Frogmorton Farm (4 books), and Elizabeth Cage (3 books).  I’ve snagged a couple of e-books from two of these series, but haven’t read any of them, mostly because I’m hooked on this St. Mary’s series.  That’s a first-world problem, I admit, but a pleasant one to have. 

Dodger - Terry Pratchett

   2012; 353 pages.  New Author? : No.  Genres : Action-Intrigue; Historical Fiction; British Literature; Humor.  Overall Rating : 7*/10.

 

    Sooner or later, you pay for every good deed you do in life.  Dodger just learned that the hard way.

 

    He had just popped out of the sewers when a pretty young girl jumped out of a passing carriage and tried to run away.  Two thugs followed her out of the carriage, chased her down, and started beating the damsel.

 

    Dodger may be young, but life on the streets has toughened him, so he pounced on the assailants, drove them off, and rescued the young lady.  But there are no secrets in the rookeries of London.  Now powerful people are offering lots of money for information about the escaped girl.

 

    And for information about the whereabouts of the brazen young lad who helped her flee.

 

What’s To Like...

    Dodger is one of the few Terry Pratchett novels that is not part of the Discworld series, nor even set there.  The story takes place in Victorian-era England and there’s not a single fantasy creature to be found.  Dodger is the street name of the protagonist, a 17-year-old tosher, which, if you’ve never heard of that term (and I hadn’t) means a person who scavenges in the underground sewers.  It’s a historically real profession; Wikipedia has a page about it here.

 

    Terry Pratchett infuses the text with a bunch of 19^th-century English terms, some of which are listed below, plus at least one example of Cockney rhyming slang, here involving the name “Richard”.  One of the main side characters, Solomon Cohen, is Jewish, so a number of Yiddish expressions also crop up.  The characters are a nice blend of real and fictional people, and Pratchett lets you know which are which in the "Author’s Acknowledgments" section in the back of the book.  All of this, plus Pratchett’s writing skills, created a fantastic “feel” for the early 1800s London setting, both above ground and below.

 

    The storyline is straightforward.  After being rescued by our heroic street urchin, the damsel in distress is taken in by a well-to-do family for safekeeping while recovering from her wounds.  A second fortuitous circumstance adds to Dodger being hailed as a hero in both high and low social circles, and he is forced to learn the ways of fraternizing with those of the upper class.  At the same time, Dodger has to contend with thugs of evil intent, while also learning how to go about courting the rescued damsel.

 

    Footnotes, always a Pratchett delight, are occasionally used, albeit sparingly.  The text is divided into 16 chapters, something the author rarely resorts to.  The tone of the story is darker than Pratchett’s Discworld novels (at one point a miscarriage is alluded to); it would have been awkward to try to fit this tale into that series.  But the author’s trademark wit and attention to details are still delightfully and abundantly present.

 

    I liked the references to subjects like Boadicea, Spinoza, angels, and metaphysics.  The inclusion of “The Lady of the Sewers”, aka Cloacina, aka “the goddess of the sewers” was a clever touch.  It was fun to learn the differences between a snakesman, a waterman, a tosher, and a mudlark.  And I hope to never run afoul of Argos Panoptes.

 

Kewlest New Word ...

    Firkytoodle (v.) : to canoodle, cuddle, fondle amorously.

    Others: Toshing (n.); Bubele (n., Yiddish), Shonky Shop (n.); Rookeries (n., plural), Schmutter (n., Yiddish); Growler (n.); Percys (n., plural); Mogadored (v., British), Hey-ho-rumbelow (n., phrase); Waterman (n.), and many more.

 

Ratings…
    Amazon:  4.5/5 based on 3,317 ratings and 1,215 reviews.

    Goodreads: 3.94/5 based on 26,049 ratings and 3,101 reviews.

 

Excerpts...

    Dodger wasn’t a thief; not at all.  He was. . . well, he was good at finding things.  After all, sometimes things fell off carts and carriages, didn’t they?  He had never stuck his hand into somebody else’s pocket.  Well, apart from one or two occasions when it was so blatantly open that something was bound to fall out, in which case Dodger would nimbly grab it before it hit the ground.  That wasn’t stealing: that was keeping the place tidy, and after all, it only happened what?  Once or twice a week?  (pg. 15)

 

    Dodger had once asked Solomon why he had chosen to come to England, and Solomon had said, “Mmm, well, my dear, it seems to me that in the pinch most governments settle for shooting their people, but in England they have to ask permission first.  Also, people don’t much mind what you’re doing as long as you’re not making too much noise.  Mmm, I like that in a country.”  (pg. 118)

 

If you wanted to be a successful urchin you needed to study how to urch.  (pg. 78)

     The cussing is sparse in Dodger, only 9 instances in the first 20% of the book.  All of those were what I’d call “mild profanity”, and none were f-bombs.

    Sadly, despite Terry Pratchett being one of my all-time favorite authors, there are some nits to pick here.

 

    Everything builds towards good-vs-evil showdown, but alas, things went down way too conveniently in the climax.  For all of their fearsome reputation, the baddies get vanquished way too easily.  Nevertheless, the final chapter is a heartwarming Epilogue, where we get to see how Dodger’s life subsequently unfolds.

 

    An even bigger issue involves the philosophical asides throughout the storyline itself.  Dodger frequently stops to contemplate his lifestyle vis-a-vis that of the various upper crust folks he encounters.  The first couple times he does this, his musings are rather enlightening.  But by the hundredth time he ruminates, you just want to ask him to stop obsessing and think about something else.

 

    Summing up, Dodger is a one-off novel, which conceivably could have been developed into a series, but never was.  I think that’s for the best.  Terry Pratchett is at his best when penning lighthearted fantasy novels.  He certainly has enough skills to also write dark historical fiction, but it won’t be his finest hour.  If you want to see him shine, pick up any of his early Discworld novels.

 

    7 Stars.  Here’s my favorite new Victorian era slang phrase gleaned from reading Dodger: “Tuppence more and up goes the donkey.”  It’s in the Acknowledgment section, and Terry Pratchett laments that he couldn’t find a way to work it into the story.  Google it for enlightenment.