A Pyramid Built of Problems

The Age of Ra
by James Lovegrove
Published by Solaris
1 Out of 5 Stars

See that cover? That is a kick ass cover. So the next time you're in a bookstore, stop and gaze upon its beauty--then return the book to the shelf and slowly back away because that moment, the moment where you gaze upon that glorious golden image of Ra and then wonder at the contradictory image of a modern day soldier in front of a battlefield and think WTF--that's as good as it's going to get, baby.

I have put off reviewing this for days because reviewing it seems cruel, like kicking a three legged puppy for not being able to run fast enough. I knew that I was in deep suck by page 20, so it's my fault that I kept reading. And I know, I know--there will be those who say, why did you keep reading if you hated the book so much? A) I bought it, so I felt a misguided need to get my money's worth, B) this is my busy time of year, so reading a crappy book almost ensured I would more readily turn my attention to grading semester finals, and C) I can't count the number of times I have despised a book right up until the very end and something clicked, the other shoe dropped, all was revealed and, hallelujah, it's a literary miracle--the book was amazing! There were no miracles this time. I clapped my hands and really believed, but Tinkerbell never came back to life. This sucker was DOA and should have come with a DNR. Damn, I kicked the three legged dog, didn't I?

Age of Ra has an interesting premise. The gods of old are real, they go to battle for dominion over man, the Pantheon of Egypt wins by destroying all other gods. This idea isn't entirely new, but usually these types of books focus on Greek and Roman mythology. The Egyptian slant seemed promising. But this type of book has been done better by Gaiman's American Gods or even Max Gladstone's created mythology in the Craft Sequence books Three Parts Dead and Two Serpents Rise. There are several issues:

1. All nations now worship Egyptian deities, but align themselves with different gods (some Asian countries worship Anubis, England worships Osiris, South America worships Horus--you get the idea). These countries now choose their allies and their enemies based upon which gods their chosen deity considers friends and enemies. The god also blesses his or her people with his divine power, or ba, as a power source to charge weapons and vehicles (but, don't worry, if your god forgets to send you some of his mojo, there's still gasoline). This sums up all the interaction the gods have with their people; much of the book consists of military battles that simply throw the gods' names around but really don't rely upon the gods at all. So all that amazing gods-among-men anticipation I had built up was a serious letdown.

2. The Egyptian gods defeated all other gods 100 years ago, yet the novel is set in what seems to be roughly the present day. Within a century and in the face of the knowledge that the gods are real, one would think the Egyptian culture and mindset would have radically changed society and redrawn the map. Nope. Apparently not. We still have Russia, Japan, China, and all the other countries and societies speaking and acting as they always have. 

3. The integration of Egyptian culture into present day is unimaginative and lazy at best. We still have the United States, but its president is now known as the Pastor President. We still have Britain, but its head of state is now His Pharaonic Majesty. We still have Mercedes Benz, but it's now known as the Mercedes Lotus. We still have tanks, but they're known as Scarabs. The world-building is weak.

4. It's also laughable that, in a world that still has high tech weaponry and alternate fuel sources, our hero enters combat with a crook and flail. Or that mummies so clueless they make zombies look like the life of the party are sent into battle against tanks and artillery. Or that high priests use wooden birds to carry their consciousness for reconnaissance missions, but, if that fails, they send out the planes we would normally use for reconnaissance. Because a high priest in a trance forever is always preferable to the intel a plane could send back in a fraction of the time. The inclusion of modern technology in the book renders the Ancient Egyptian inspired tech moot and useless by comparison.

5. Cardboard, stereotyped characters so one-dimensional that they make the Kardashians seem human; an obligatory will-they-won't-they romance with less passion than a Liza Minnelli marriage; plot twists so obvious they practically nudge you ("You'll be so surprised! You'll never guess what's going to happen! Here it comes, here it comes! Did it get ya?").

6. The best part of the book? The gods. One can tell that Lovegrove really did his research here and he's smart enough to realize that the gods have to adapt and change somewhat to move the plot forward. Holding them to their archetypal roles would have added little interest whatsoever. As Ra begins to develop a consciousness outside of his divine role and manipulate the Pantheon to avert disaster, it's easy to think something might be salvaged. However, the god chapters are too few and far between (and ultimately anticlimactic) to add much to the narrative. 

There was an idea here, somewhere beneath all the problems, but it never delivers on the promise presented by that beautiful cover.

No God Can Shun His Destiny--Even If It Means Wearing Hollister

Antigoddess
by Kendare Blake
Published by Tor Teen
3 Out of 5 Stars

**I received a free copy of Antigoddess from Tor in exchange for an honest review.**

After centuries, the Twilight of the Gods has arrived. 

Already fallen from Olympus, now more mortal than god, each deity is dying in a manner peculiar to their power. Athena, goddess of battle and intelligence, is being slowly suffocated by the feathers of her sacred bird, the owl. The feathers fill her lungs and sprout beneath her skin. While many of the gods are resigned to their demise and see their end as a final whim of Fate, Athena, along with the swift Hermes (who is being consumed by his own rapid metabolism), seeks the counsel of Demeter and finds that a war is brewing. Led by Hera, some gods are determined to survive--even if it means slaughtering their own kind. Their only hope? A teenage girl named Cassandra--no mere mortal, but the reincarnation of Cassandra of Troy, prophet, sister of Hector, and love of Apollo.

The first in a trilogy, Antigoddess (and let's just go ahead and get this out there--this is a baffling and terrible name for the book) is an entertaining, if uneven novel that is the latest offering in the young-adult-if-only-we-were-supernatural genre. 

There's a lot here we've seen before: the co-dependent mortal/immortal love affair (it's always baffling to me when immortal creatures fall in love with nubile young teenagers; one would think the passing of centuries would make a relationship with anyone susceptible to Bieber-fever a tedious proposition at best), the requisite showdown at a house party, and the battle lines drawn between two supernatural armies whose collective fate rests on the shoulders of a human who is more than she appears to be. And while I know it will not bother the target audience, to have the gods appear as young adults is problematic to me. No explanation is given as to why they seem to be perpetually stuck in the Proactiv Skin Care years. In my imagination, Athena (my favorite goddess) has always loomed like an Amazon, tall, strong, mature. To think of her with tattooed wrists and purple streaks in her hair? Hermes sporting Hollister? Apollo in a hoodie? By Hades's balls, I'd rather French kiss Cerberus than think of the majesty of gods reduced to trendy mall fashion. 

Buuuuttttt . . . having said all that, there's an undeniable charm to what Blake's peddling here and it's far more successful than the Percy Jackson series. Sure, the gods lack characterization, but haven't they always? And, sure, they sometimes behave like mortals, but that's always been part of their appeal. Treading like giants and with powers beyond human comprehension, they still fell prey to very human weaknesses: love, hubris, envy. Blake also knows her stuff and it's fun to see her weave the tale of Troy into a modern day setting as Hector, Andromache, Odysseus, and Circe's coven make appearances alongside Hera, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, and Apollo. Throw in a cyclops, a Nereid or two, and an author with a sharp sense of humor--well, you could find worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Great for Young Readers, but Watered Down Mythology for Adult Audiences

The Lightning Thief
by Rick Riordan
Published by Scholastic
3 Out of 5 Stars

I hate trying to review a book like this because I'm never certain if I should review it from the perspective of an adult or from the perspective of the intended audience. As a result, let me take a stab at both.

If I were reviewing the book from my perspective, it would be more of a 2 to a 2 1/2. The book is fun, especially for those who love Greek/Roman mythology, and Riordan has some inventive twists. For instance, the half-blood children of the gods are often diagnosed by their teachers as being dyslexic and ADHD. The dyslexia is a result of their brains being hard-wired to read only in Ancient Greek and the ADHD is the result of their hyper-alert, battle-ready reflexes. When a new character appears, it's also fun to guess which Greek myth is making its appearance as a modern day incarnation. However, the characters, especially Percy and his friends, are flat and never really come to life. The gods also seem watered down; they practically scream PG-appropriate and the gods were, if anything, X-rated in their endeavors. For adults, the Incarnations of Immortality by Piers Anthony or Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips are just as entertaining and able to include all of the sex and violence inherent in the original mythology. Also, my biggest pet peeve--why did Riordan feel the need to make Pallas Athena, a virgin goddess, the mother of so many children? I don't see the necessity of such a blatant disregard for myth; the plot offers no explanation or justification for this erroneous portrayal. And it doesn't seem the slightest bit necessary as Annabeth never seems to do anything worthy of "Wisdom." Wouldn't it have been just as easy for the character of Annabeth to be the daughter of Demeter or Aphrodite? 

Having said all of this, back when I would have been part of the target age group (I'm guessing 9-12), I would have loved this series. If I had children, I would gladly purchase every book and read them together. I can see where children would love the constant adventure and the gods and monsters that appear on practically every other page. If a series like this can get children to read and to love mythology, then that's definitely worth a 3 star rating.

Three Thors? Triple Your Pleasure, Triple Your Fun!

Thor:  God of Thunder Volume 1 --  The Godbutcher
Written by Jason Aaron
Illustrated by Esad Ribic
3 1/2 Out of 5 Stars

This is my first comic book foray into the world of Thor, so I have no allegiances to previous incarnations or storylines. Despite my love of mythology, I have actively avoided Thor because a) he can look seriously ridiculous in that winged helmet (I'm thinking more of the 60's and 70's incarnations here) and b) I'm not a fan of Thor-on-Earth (or Midgard) stories. For these reasons, Thor: God of Thunder is a good fit for me. The artwork by Esad Ribic is beautifully detailed and realistic, avoiding a contemporary look and opting for muted colors and shadows that give it a weighty, epic feel. Jason Aaron avoids too many Thor-on-Earth storylines and, with the exception of a very brief present day encounter with Ironman, Thor's visits to Midgard consist of 800's A.D. visits to Viking villages for some Asgardian R & R: battles, booze, and babes. Despite liking the character, it's always been difficult for me to suspend disbelief long enough to accept a Norse god in present day times--apparently I have no trouble with men in high-powered iron suits, green giants who are less than jolly, a super serum making a super soldier, hell, slap a cape on anything else and I'm buying--but the gods in the present day has always been a nugget I've had trouble swallowing (this is also part of my aversion to DC's Wonder Woman). Because Thor's interactions with Earth are almost exclusively limited to the place and time period of the people who worshiped him, this never bothered me one whit. Not one whit, I say!

So, on to the story. Yes, as promised, there are three Thors: the young, arrogant Thor who has not proven worthy of Mjolnir; the present day Avenger Thor, who has begun to doubt the worth of the gods to mortals; and the future King Thor, who has succeeded Odin as the All-Father, but is a broken, crippled god waging war by himself. In all three stories, the enemy is Gorr the Godbutcher, a being who, for reasons known only to him, has made it his mission to destroy the pantheons of every culture and every religion throughout space and time. Possessing a curious weapon, Gorr butchers the gods, good and evil alike, to free mortals from their whims. As the three Thors desperately try to stop Gorr (in three different timelines), there will be aliens, time travel, gods never before seen, eternal cities, thunder and lightning, weapons with unpronounceable Norse names, and, by Odin's beard, there will be ale! 

It's a fun narrative, although the one bit that doesn't quite work for me is Gorr. I like his style, sure, but he looks like Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter. His motives are never quite clear and, when they are, seem pretty cliche. In addition, Gorr's weapon doesn't seem like something that would possess the power necessary to quickly dispatch hundreds of gods with some pretty awesome powers of their own. The idea of a slayer of gods is an intriguing one and I just wish there had been a more original concept behind the why and how of Gorr's death-dealing agenda.

Ragna's-Gonna-Rok

Norse Code
by Greg van Eekhout
Published by Spectra
3 1/2 Out of 5 Stars

More of a 3 1/2 stars. I have to give Greg van Eekhout props for a very clever and interesting take on how Ragnarok might come about during modern times (I mean, the fire giant Surtr is wielding his sword from on high over a final battlefield that includes a Home Depot and a Costco, which made me smile). I can't say that I've read a lot of Norse mythology because it always seemed so fragmented and difficult to follow when I went through my mythology phase in junior high (the year Edith Hamilton never left my side), so I have no idea how accurate Eekhout's depictions are. Furthermore, I can't say that I care. It was entertaining and original, especially when compared with the current glut of vampire fiction on the market today. 

Also, I'm always worried about books like this (the ones that look like they'll be urban fantasy with a strong female heroine) because they tend to devolve into nothing more than a sexfest of a plot that goes something like this: "It's almost the end of the world--there's only one thing to do! Have dirty, sweaty, S&M sex since all is futile! And then lets do it again every 25 pages or so until we've exhausted the Kama Sutra." I was pleased that Norse Code never becomes a dressed up excuse for supernatural porn. 

A few minor issues that shouldn't stop anyone from reading the book:

1. The back cover makes it seem as though the entire story will be told from the point of view of Mist, a valkyrie whose purpose is to gather warriors who will serve in the Einherjar at the final battle. However, the book doesn't seem to have one main character (which is just as well as Hermod and the Aesir are far more interesting characters than Mist; in fact, her whole "I must save my sister from Hel" mission seems unnecessary). It also seems as though the book will focus on the NORSEcode project being used to track down descendants of Odin (a kick ass idea in every way that isn't really utilized or expanded upon). These aren't really problems, but it ticks me off when a book presents itself as one thing and then goes in a different direction--even if I end up liking it.

2. And the name Mist is a minor irritation because sentences like "Mist hung around Hermod's waist" caused my mind to put forth disconcerting images of a Norse god riding into battle surrounded by a Charles Schulz Pigpen-esque fog.

3. The characters seem to exist only to serve the purpose of executing the plot. We never learn about them in any depth. Normally, this would be quite vexing, but the book makes it clear that they are pawns of prophecy and fate so, in a way, they do exist only to set the chain of events in motion. However, it would have been better if they could have been a little more interesting along the way. 

Kickin' Ass and Takin' Names

Badass:  The Birth of a Legend

by Ben Thompson

Published by Harper Perennial

3 Out of 5 Stars

Behold!  Herein is contained a collection of history and pop culture's most notorious badasses.  These guys and gals kick ass, take names, never give a crap, and spend their days punching humanity in the nutsack just because they can.  They believe that, if you're looking for sympathy, it's in the dictionary between shit and syphilis.  There's no challenge they won't accept, no life they will spare, no vengeance they won't seek, no maiden they won't fondle!  Why?  They all suffer from the totally sweet fever known as badassitude.  And, as we all know, there's no cure for badassitude and, even if there were, who would want it?

Yeah, was all that a little too much for you?  Well, it was for me, too.  I will readily admit that I am indeed juvenile enough to have found the cover amusing, as well as sentences like this one describing the Egyptian gods: "As an added triple-shot of one hundred-proof badassitude, almost all of these bitchin' all-powerful smite-masters were represented by human bodies with insane animal heads grafted on top, making them so King Kong mega-weird-looking that it's like riding a surfboard of insanity down the Uncanny Valley."  However, 300+ pages of this became tedious--so much so that I had to reduce my reading to a chapter or two between other books. 

It wasn't long before every chapter began to sound as though a potty-mouthed version of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' Michelangelo was "Cowabunga"-ing his way through the narrative.
However, there were some bright spots:

1)  The variety of cultures and time periods represented is impressive.  We have everything from Viking, Aztec, Greek, Egyptian, Vodoun, Anglo-Saxon, to various African mythologies represented, as well as more modern cultural icons.  (Any book where Skeletor and Darth Vader are rubbing shoulders is automatically worth 3 stars.)

2)  Hell, yes for the women represented in the book!  Kali, Oya, Atalanta, Bradamant of Clairmont, Skuld, The White Tights (it's worth reading this chapter alone), The Furies, Baba Yaga, and, my personal favorite, Medea, are all here, proving you don't have to have *ahem* a sword *ahem* to be a badass.

3)  This is the type of book that I could definitely see turning around a boy who is a struggling reader.  It's fun, opens up a variety of mythologies for further research, and uses a language all teenage boys understand.  Sure, you could get your panties in a twist because words like balls, douche, badass, scrotum, and several juvenile sexual references are made, but if you think teenage boys aren't already using that language then you are not a badass.  You're a dumbass.  And I'm of the opinion that if it takes pandering to the lowest common denominator to hook a kid on reading, it's well worth it.

Despite the fact that the "badass" conceit wears pretty thin, this is a moderately entertaining and very well-researched read.  I can honestly say that I learned a few things from it, added a few books for further reading to my "to read" list, and now have the line "He gets more ass than a public toilet seat" in my arsenal.  It was well worth the read.

How the Mighty Have Fallen

Olympic Games

by Leslie What

Published by Tachyon Publications

1 Out of 5 Stars

There seems to be a literary trend of late that involves taking the gods of ancient times and throwing them into a modern day setting.  These once powerful deities have been forgotten and struggle to adjust to the mundane day-to-day existence afforded them in an increasingly secular world with little time for or interest in religion. As an early devotee of Edith Hamilton, one might assume that these have been heady times for me.  Unfortunately, this genre has been kind of a mixed bag.  There's been the good (Neil Gaiman's American Gods and some of Piers Anthony's older Incarnations of Immortality series) and the meh (Rick Riordan's The Lightning Thief and Marie Phillips' Gods Behaving Badly).  And now we have the bad--Olympic Games. 

This is a book that I wanted to love, but it fell short for me.  To begin with, there is one fundamental problem with writing about the gods:  in the original myths, they're two dimensional characters who only exist to either cause or react to events.  Because the gods primarily existed to explain natural forces, they were devoid of personality beyond what was necessary to explain their component in the natural world.  That's fine for reading brief myths presented in summary format or stories where the gods appear occasionally to help or hinder a beleaguered hero.  It's an entirely different matter when they become the focal point of a full length novel.  In fact, Olympic Games began as a short story entitled The Goddess is Alive and, Well, Living in New York City.  I would like to find What's original short story as I have a feeling it would be a more successful read for me.  As it stands, the gods in Olympic Games remain two dimensional, which may be traditionally accurate but makes for tedious reading.  I did not care about any of the characters--not even the humans, who themselves remain two dimensional.

The story focuses on Zeus and Hera.  In my opinion, these are the two least interesting gods.  Zeus just tossed around the occasional lightning bolt in between bouts of screwing anything with two--or four--legs and a heartbeat; Hera seemingly only existed to bitch about it.  So guess what they're doing in present day?  Zeus is philandering and Hera is chasing after him.  There's little new here.  They occasionally encounter difficulties with modern day life, but only to inconsequential and humorless effect.  Their powers are used primarily to beguile humans into doing their bidding and, in Hera's case, to constantly change her hair color, her body shape, her sandals, her wardrobe, etc. (a joke that tires very quickly as that ability is possessed by most mortal women and does not a goddess make).  There's nary another god in sight as, during the last 1/4 of the novel, it's explained that the others succumbed to ennui (an explanation that should have been provided earlier to give context as to why the other gods are inexplicably MIA).  This is a shame as the lackluster narrative involving Zeus and Hera could have been spiced up with the appearance of Athena, Poseidon, Ares, Aphrodite, or just the occasional demigod. 

The novel is billed as a screwball absurdist romp, a la Christopher Moore, but there's little in the way of humor here.  Sure, there's plenty of absurdity, but it's not particularly funny.  There are some clunky and obvious one-liners.  If nothing else, the novel made me wish that Christopher Moore would try his hand at this gods-in-the-modern-world genre.  If you’re interested in mythology based literature, I would recommend any of the novels previously mentioned in this review or, hey, kick it old school and get a copy of Edith Hamilton’s Mythology or revisit Medea, Antigone, Oedipus Rex, The Illiad, or The Odyssey.  I think you would find any of them a more rewarding experience.