Anthony Huso

A book of two halves with a consistent problem throughout. The beginning of the book and perhaps first half were actually quite good but boy is the ending a letdown. In general the language is unnecessarily complex and the pseudo magic scientific descriptions are cryptic and add little to the story. What I liked was the initial development of the two protagonists - they were interesting and compelling. Even the initial plot was interesting......the language and the lack of a decent denouement killed it for me. I would NOT read a sequel to this.......… (mehr)

The world of Bone Radio is its best asset: Anthony Huso has turned away from his steampunk and fantasy beginnings into a more grounded setting in the Pacific Northwest. Bone Radio is set, presumably, hundreds, if not thousands, of years after the fall of our civilization. The world of the New Union isn’t in shambles, however, and the post-apocalyptic setting doesn’t reflect an apocalypse too strongly. Most of humanity has been rebuilt off the work of future archaeologists and academics, and the existing government lies somewhere between our modern day and the fractured world of the Fallout game series.

[N.B. This review includes images and footnotes, and was formatted for my site, dendrobibliography -- located here.]

Huso’s world feels real and mysterious, and I found myself genuinely drawn into the New Union’s structure and the surviving institutions. That the world wasn’t buried in traditional post-apocalyptic tropes, but instead turned them on their head, worked in its favor. The rest of the novel, unfortunately, suffers from problematic editing, some rough writing, and poor characterization.

The story’s set-up is somewhat convoluted, and perhaps betrays the sense of cognitive dissonance underlying the plot. Marshall Dei arrives at his family’s cliffside mansion to find his brother, Vercingetorix Dei, sprawled on the floor and near death. Marshall, a tattoo artist by trade, also works as his brother’s caretaker, and needs to regularly feed a living tattoo that swims over Getorix’s body. Without this care, his brother could be devoured from the inside out.

Getorix once held the title of President of the New Union, and was the nation’s most successful leader, bringing an unprecedented period of peace and prosperity before retiring. It’s his devouring tattoo — a gift from a mythologized tribe he lived with long before — that gives him this unnatural prescience. Marshall carries a fraction of this power, with a ‘bone radio’ of the title installed by Getorix in his teeth: He occasionally hears ghostly songs with lyrics and rhythms serving as metaphorical warnings of his and his friends’ possible futures.

The present New Union administration’s a failure, and hungers for the powers they see the Dei family as hoarding. The main plot is pushed forward by a conspiracy of government officials aiming to betray the Dei family and gain control of their assets; their hope is that a physical object at or near the Dei House would be the source of Getorix Dei’s successful leadership.

Bone Radio was exciting, but not well-written. The first fifteen pages are among the most turgid, and it took me a while to ground myself in what exactly was going on. Metaphors and similes were strained to the limits of readability, and multiple adjectives would adorn every other word.* Once the setting of the Dei House was established, it was much easier to get lost in the New Union’s intrigue: That humanity hadn’t failed a la McCarthy’s the Road (2006), but was flourishing again, building colleges and technological industries, reminded me of Riddley Walker (1980) in some respects. The writing and editing issues occasionally drew me out, but the family’s quests amid this future were fascinating enough to draw me in until the end.

Besides the often-clunky writing, the characterization of the heroes and villains falls flat. Marshall Dei is not an interesting hero: He’s more a Mary Sue defined by ‘badass’ stereotypes. He’s huge, muscular, masculine beyond comprehension, brilliant, infinitely-attractive, and a mysterious loner. His decisions that drive the narrative are completely illogical, betraying his supposed intelligence.† Piper, the story’s love interest, is a shallow sex fantasy: A beautiful, naive 25-year-old who falls for the hyper-masculine Marshall Dei twice her age. She transitions from loathing Marshall to obsessive love in about 24 hours. She then continually rewards Marshall in some disturbing scenes where she’s in excruciating pain and near death, but feels the absurd desire to have sex with the man responsible for putting her in that position.‡ Their relationship never helps the narrative, and I genuinely didn’t understand why it was written into the story at all. These two personalities don’t gel, and their romance wasn’t feel natural or interesting — just absurd.

Other characters don’t fare much better: The villains, Lynn and Forster,§ are just gross caricatures of casual misogyny, identical personalities who think only of taking advantage of the people — especially the women — around them. The mythological tribe that may or may not exist is defined exclusively by outdated, flat noble savage tropes. Marshall’s nephew, Wesley, is dragged through the dirt by the narrative and ultimately murdered with no redemption or character development. He’s portrayed as a chubby loser undeserving of Piper’s love — they’re dating before she falls for Marshall –, and his own father even seems to knowingly forego saving Wesley’s life. Wesley’s betrayed by his entire family (seemingly for no reason other than his being a loser), stews in that betrayal for a while, and then dies horribly. It’s later revealed that he could have been saved, but evidently no one cared.

All of this makes Bone Radio an odd story. The characters and plot feel like an outline of ideas and stereotypes that need to be fleshed out, yet the world Huso wrote is fascinating despite that. The problems pile up so high, that it’s hard not to explain them without getting frustrated by the novel’s failure to meet its potential. It’s still a fun yarn, but it ultimately reads like a first draft in need of many revisions.… (mehr)

(cross posted from theturnedbrain.blogspot.com.au/)

Because I am nothing if not timely I have finally got around to reading The Last Page, just as its sequel is being released. Better late than never right? I bought it when it was first came out because I'm sure I liked the sound of it, but that was so long ago that when I finally picked it up I couldn't remember a thing about it.

Actually, no, I remembered one thing. That while it was marketed as steampunk most people who read it felt the label certainty did not apply. Which sucks, because if steampunk was more like The Last Page, I feel like the genre and I would get along a lot better. This is what I've always wanted steampunk to be! Not a thinly veiled England full of eccentric geniuses and feisty ladies, but a dark and gritty fantasy world that just so happens to be powered by steam. (And zeppelins, natch). Well, steam and gas really. Steam, gas, and a dash of mathematics/magic. (A cool and original magic system, but then even real world maths seems like magic to me half the time). So I guess it can't be called steampunk after all. More like steampunk's moody older brother.

So, yes, the setting worked for me very well, but did the rest of the book? Mostly, yes. Huso has a distinctive narrative voice, and while I feel he stumbled with some of his metaphors I would rather an author push themselves a touch too far than not at all. I also like that the book had an almost modern air to it, much like Steph Swainstons 'Castle' books. Not many fantasy novels really embrace ideas like freedom of press, or really consider the logistics of keeping a kingdom fed, unless it pertains directly to the plot.

Ah yes, the plot. It's straightforward enough. Caliph Howl is a reluctant heir to the throne, and while at University he meets and falls in love (not sappy love though, more like too cool for love love) with Senna. Senna has a locked book, and she really wants to unlock it. That's the basic gist of it. Caliph has to fight to hold onto a kingdom he doesn't particularly want, and Senna has to unlock her book.

(Ok, brief asid, how cool is the name Caliph Howl? So cool.)

I really liked Caliph's character. Competent without being showey, compassionate without being boring. He's all poker face on the outside but storm of emotions on the inside, you know? Senna I did not like as much, although she was no less well done. I would have liked some more motivation as to why she wants to open the book so much, (aside from the power it would give her. Power is all well and good, but what does she want to do with it?) There are hints about it, and maybe it will be elaborated on in further books. Huso is good at hinting as opposed to spelling out, which is always good.

Unfortunately though I felt things fell apart towards the end of the book. Focus was lost, things just starting to happen in a haphazard way and I also started to get confused about what was happening with some plot points. Events occurred which seemed to be of great importance to the characters, but didn't seem that important to me. That kind of disconnect between book and reader is not a good thing.

This aside I do see myself picked up the next book somewhere down the line. There were still a lot of things to like about the Last Page and I will be interested to see where Huso takes it.… (mehr)