With this third book in the series, I felt Aaronovitch had really hit his stride. This book, the fourth in the series, was aBest Peter Grant book yet!
With this third book in the series, I felt Aaronovitch had really hit his stride. This book, the fourth in the series, was a pure pleasure to read. It ran on rails and I found myself so immersed in the story that I wasn't looking ahead, I wasn't trying to second-guess it, I wasn't trying to analyse it mid-flow. As such... that ending blind-sided me like a pick-up truck running a red light... BAM!
I won't extol the virtues of the series here - if you're looking at reviews for book four, odds are you've already read books one, two and three! Let me just reassure you that this one is another bullseye.
I'm also very excited about the BBC TV series based on these novels that is in development! Check-out this casting blog to whet your appetite for what that might look like :-)
After this I read: Dumbledore's Army Reunites at Quidditch World Cup Final - but for some reason, Goodreads decided to delete the entry for that short story and all associated reviews (cheers for that!) so let's just jump straight to the book I read after that: The Algebraist...more
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of lif
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my GIFTS AND GUILTY list.
Regardless of how many books are already queued patiently on my reading list, unexpected gifts and guilt-trips will always see unplanned additions muscling their way in at the front.
In the interest of transparency, let me say this: the author, Marie Browne, is a friend of mine. I’ve never reviewed a friend’s book before and I’ve been torn as to how to approach it. I want to do my bit to help promote the book because I’d love to see it do well - but then, countering that, is my honesty and integrity as a reviewer. I almost want to over-react to dispel all suggestion of a biased review by writing an analytical assassination of Qualia’s flaws – but I’m not sure Marie would appreciate that!
Rather than continue to confuse myself and fight to remain impartial and objective, let’s just agree now that I was a partisan fan from before I’d even received my copy of Qualia. Having said that, I won’t let my review collapse into boring, rose-tinted flattering drivel – I’m hoping that my extra insights into the writer, her history, life and interests, can provide an interesting perspective for potential readers.
Qualia isn’t Marie’s debut novel – but it is her fantasy debut. Both her previous books, Narrow Margins and Narrow Minds, are humorous memoirs – and I recommend them unreservedly. Those books tell Marie’s own tale about how she reacted when the Rover car company went bust and took her successful IT support firm down with it. Rather than rebuild her comfortable suburban life, Marie chose to follow her (rather spontaneous) dream and move her family onto a fixer-upper canal boat, and permanently become ‘river rats’. It’s an eccentric, charming and heartfelt yarn about recognising, appreciating and fighting for happiness – whatever that word means for you.
Now, sharing your own experiences, in your own voice with your own style, etc – that’s quite a different kettle of fishies from writing a work of fantasy fiction, and yet Marie has not played it safe.
Qualia tells the story of Joe – a human minion working for the archangel Metatron. He’s your run of the mill, one foot in the supernatural world, messenger, courier, demon-killer, etc. But then (to paraphrase the Fresh Prince) his life gets twisted upside down. His latest job is a bit bigger than he’s used to: kill Lucifer (kind of). It turns out that when you get right down to the nitty-gritty, this whole Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, malarkey isn’t as simple as they’d have you believe, and once Joe gets the chance to chinwag with a few of Hell’s bigwigs, he starts to realise he’s been batting for the wrong side for a long time. So begins a frantic quest through the multiple dimensions of Hell to deliver an insurance salesman called Graham to Lucifer’s throne room before Metatron can erase the multiverse. Joe is helped in his mission by unusual allies - fallen angels, alien demons, his hot hippy neighbour, a dead psychic and her necro-bro, a dragon, a centaur, carnivorous goats, and more eclectic friendly faces – while he’s hounded the whole way by the bloodthirsty archangel Michael and his army, the angelic host. Its one hell of a ride (excuse the pun) and as Will.I.Am would say, it’s fresh, it’s dope, it’s a hoot!
There are elements of Qualia’s style comparable to Chris Moore and Marie Philips. Considering the subject matter, it’s not surprising I can see echoes from the Sandman and Lucifer graphic novels. There’s also an unmistakable urban fantasy influence from Jim Butcher. But when I tried to tell my wife what I thought Qualia was like, the strongest similarities struck me from the screen rather than the page – Kevin Smith’s film Dogma and Josh Wheedon’s classic TV series Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel. It’s that same blend of humour with supernatural action, clever but silly concepts delivered straight-faced with a wink. The humour here is a much more wry British sarcasm than outright gags, but there were plenty of chuckles from me.
There are a lot of specific ideas I really enjoyed. Technically Joe is immortal, but this doesn’t mean he can’t be killed. Joe can most definitely be killed, with all associated pain; he just bounces back to life again later like some kind of sarcastic weeble toy. It makes him grouchy. I loved the way fairies (and dragons) were enfolded into the Christian mythos. The cute but lethal carnivorous goats were a definite crowd pleaser! Each of the different stages in the episodic descent into Hell were imaginative, challenging and interesting. I also thought the semi-sentient knuckle-dusters were a great weapon. There were dozens of nice little fantasy embellishments and flourishes that demonstrated a deep love of the genre.
But what really stole the show were the characters. All of them are flawed but hugely likeable. My personal favourites were the necromancer, the centaur, the surfer-dude angel Rafael and big, bad Lucifer himself. It was the moments of doubt and hesitation that sold it to me – Belial’s guilt over those he couldn’t save from Hell when he evacuated, and over the children who died because he saved one monster too many. Lucifer’s sympathy for those condemned to Hell for suicide. And Joe’s own constant, niggling insecurities that make him such a reluctant hero made him a star for me (I’m a sucker for an anxious saviour).
So what happened to the 5th star?
I think Marie has just tried to do a little too much, too quickly. This book ends on an obvious hook to continue a series – but to me, the story feels like it’s come from a third or fourth instalment in an already existing series. There’s a lot of condensed explaining to do, about the how the system of faith/magic/multiverse works which wouldn’t have been necessary with a couple of prequel adventures to set the scene more gradually. This adventure is a real turning point for Joe, but we haven’t spent enough time with Joe as Metatron’s bitch for that to feel as significant as it should – again, I just feel the defection would have carried more weight had we been a couple of books in already.
So it’s a solid 4-star recommendation from me. I think Marie’s done a smashing job with Qualia and it’s a really fun, quirky, imaginative ride. I think she should be hugely proud of what she’s accomplished and I can’t wait to see if she does continue the series (I hope she does!)
If you do buy/borrow/steal a copy of Qualia and find yourself enjoying it – please drop Marie a line! She’s a truly lovely lady and has (after a little badgering) embraced her GR author account - and I know she’d love to hear from you all.
Lyrical, sensual, and gritty urban fantasy with magic, monsters mystery and blood splashed unrepentantly across the very first chapter... welcome b
Lyrical, sensual, and gritty urban fantasy with magic, monsters mystery and blood splashed unrepentantly across the very first chapter... welcome back to the weird/wonderful/wicked world of Matthew Swift, London's première symbiotic-sorcerer!
It took me too damn long to get around to reading this. I really enjoyed the preceding instalment, A Madness of Angels - it's not perfect, but it got me excited - and I was psyched to dive into the next one, but it took me an age to get around to it. Even with all that bottled anticipation I wasn't disappointed...
For me, it started with Harry Dresden. Then came Fix Castor and Peter Grant. Matthew Swift was late to the party, but he made one hell of an entrance.
Recap of book 1: (SPOILER WARNING)
You see... Swift was an urban sorcerer. Then he was murdered. As he died, his soul fled into the telephone wires (urban sorcerers are unpredictable like that). While incorporeal, Swift's essence became mixed with the elemantal gods of the telephone wires, the Electric Angels. When another sorcerer tried to summon the Angels, they got a Swift-Angels symbiont dude instead. He's still Swift, but he's something more too...
Great concept - imaginative, original, dark and pretty weird... That's the first book. So it starts with our hero dead - and then pretty much everyone dies. There's lots of action, lots of symbol-scrambling urban magics, and Swift is the last (only) man standing. So where do we go for book two?
The clue is in the title. As with all good noir inspired tales, we start with a death - not Swift's this time; the Midnight Mayor has been murdered. Now, the Midnight Mayor is a pretty powerful player in Griffin's city of wonders, yet someone's taken him apart like warm, wet, tissue paper. Our unknown, but hardcore, new big-bad is systematically destroying London's magical defences in preparation for a one-man apocalypse. And who's going to stop him? Our boy, Swift, of course! A job made that much more thankless by the murdered Mayor's trigger-happy faction, who have jumped to the erroneous conclusion that a half-inhuman sorcerer is the most likely suspect for the sicko slaying of their beloved boss.
My major complaint with the first book is that Griffin can't say in five words what she could say in fifteen. It gives the telling a lovely, layered, textured tone - but in places it drags. In places Swift's introverted, overly-analytical inner-monologue gets snagged on too many details. In places the loving descriptions of the grimy mundanity of London become repetitious. In places, the supporting cast talk (or monologue) exactly like Swift, because Griffin has become kind of stuck in this mode. None of these are deal breakers, but together they conspire to strip an otherwise smashing book of that fifth star.
My biggest gripe isn't with the writing style or the adventure itself, it's more the sort of character-framework. In book one, the body count included Swift's mentor and his apprentice. There's no love interest in his life. The closest friend wants to kill him. There's not much in the way of camaraderie, y'know?
Every hero needs a gang. It may be clichéd but it works for me - it puts them in a human perspective as a friend, son, father, brother, lover, etc, as well as their role as saves-the-day kick-ass hero. We know exactly what kind of hero Swift is (takes the hits, but keeps on coming, doesn't give up, doesn't give any respect, does what needs to be done because he loves his city, etc) - but there's still a lot of questions about what kind of man Swift is. He needs people he cares about to illuminate the contours of his personality.
To allay my fears, the conclusion of The Midnight Mayor does seem to by nudging Swift in that direction...
It's a great series - I've already got the third one on my shelf beside me. Highly recommended for those who can ride a more lyrical prose style without complaint, and love a hotwired imagination - think Dresden Files meets Neuromancer!
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of lif
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my FINISHING THE SERIES! list.
I loves me a good series! But I'm terrible for starting a new series before finishing my last - so this reading list is all about trying to close out those series I've got on the go.
Normally I’m pretty good at reviewing a book, if not immediately after finishing it, than within the next two or three books I read. But sometimes there’s a lot going on in life – work, wives and babies do not rate my book reviews especially highly on their priorities matrix – and sometimes one slips by. Also, the faster I read a book, the sooner I’m entering the ‘review phase’, and if I’ve not written the previous review yet this creates a backlog. Finally, the issue is compounded if the book is a sequel, and I’ve not yet reviewed the first in the series (because surely I should start there?). Such are the woes that have beset my best efforts to get this review written, but I have persevered and kept the faith. I look around now and I’ve just gotten home from work, my wife is going to the supermarket before she comes back from hers, the baby has passed-out early because it’s too damn hot to play... I have free time! Amazing! Let’s get this review written, eh?
Somehow I’ve written nearly two hundred words and haven’t said a single one about the book. Forgive me. It’s too damn hot to think straight.
I remember when my wife spotted Rivers of London in Cardiff’s Waterstones. I asked if she’d found anything good and she just thrust it at me like a bouquet of flowers, making big puppy-dog eyes. We were broke, but I still bought it for her. She got Moon Over Soho and Whispers Under Ground as soon as they came out. She kept telling me to read them, and I knew that I would enjoy them, but I kept putting them off. I read a lot of sci-fi and my wife reads a lot of fantasy – modern urban-fantasy series are one the cross-hatched patches on the Venn diagram of our book-love. When first we met, we bonded over the Fix Castor series and as we fell in love she got me hooked on the Dresden Files.
It’s easy to over-hype something good. It’s easy to be disappointed when something doesn’t live up the hype. It’s important to keep your expectations realistic.
The writer, Ben Aaranovitch, doesn’t feel compelled to pull his punches, just because he’s writing genre-fic for a commercial sweet-spot. Rivers ends with a suckerpunch to one of the supporting cast that sets a deep emotional hook to drag the reader over the gap to book two. We were all desperate to know, is she gonna be OK?
Moon Over Soho sees our lad, Peter Grant, the Met Police’s modern magician (in training), settling into his new world. As I mentioned in my review of Rivers, it’s really refreshing to read a UF where the magic doesn’t scuttle in the shadows – this sh!t is going down in broad daylight. There are some great scenes here with Peter turning the spotlight of a modern scientific mind on the mechanics of magic. OK, so Pete’s no scientific genius, but he’s thinking in experiments and clear, straight lines.
Whatever the UF trappings, this is at heart a detective story. The big case in this instalment revolves around promising Jazz musicians turning up dead. Something about the premise reminded me of Douglas Adam’s Dirk Gently mysteries. (Hmm... saying that makes me want to read the Holistic Detective Agency again.) The supernatural ‘baddies’ behind it all, while not earth-shatteringly imaginative are a clever and emotive spin on a classic – how often does the big-bad takedown scene give you heartache on the killer's behalf?
The sub-plot, The Stip-Club of Dr Moreau, is awesome – obviously it helps that The Island of Dr Moreau is one my favourite old-school sci-fi tales – and personally I’d have a liked a bit more down that line. Larry the talking head is genuinely creepy for an otherwise light-hearted book. And the work done here on the series-thread antagonist (‘the little crocodiles’) lays a solid foundation of weird and nasty to build from going forward (and leaves us with a great cliffhanger).
Ben Aaranovitch’s vision of London is familiar and realistic, for all its otherworldly adventure. This is a man who knows his city inside-out, and his love for the every-day bustle shines through. As the name suggests, Soho takes centre stage for this outing and it’s crisp and vivid and rang true.
For anyone who hasn’t heard – there’s a TV series of Peter Grant’s adventures in the works! It was confirmed recently by the publishers, but I heard rumours about meetings through the twittervine a few months ago. I can’t say I’m surprised, it’s going to work perfectly.
So why no fifth star? I’m afraid Moon Over Soho is another of those books where it’s hard to put my finger on the problem. I think (maybe?), the main and sub-plot stand too far apart, without really reinforcing each other thematically. The first is a little too obvious, and the second doesn’t resolve in a satisfying fashion. It feels a bit like a bridging book, while the ‘little crocodiles’ thread finds its feet. None of these are big problems – this is still a delightfully breezy book that I tore through every second I had spare – but without that coalescence in the climax it lacks the cohesive punch to make me go “Hell yes, now THAT is how you DO IT!”.
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of lif
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my FINISHING THE SERIES! list.
I loves me a good series! But I'm terrible for starting a new series before finishing my last - so this reading list is all about trying to close out those series I've got on the go.
2.5 rounded up to 3 because my wife and my mother-in-law both love it (and they might use tea-spoons to pop out my eyes if I give it a 2).
It’s a solid urban-fantasy effort with a good, strong female private detective (Harper Blaine) for a lead. She lives in Seattle, has a pet ferret, and is generally a likeable broad. The fantasy element is OK, but I didn’t find it inspiring – Harper got killed by a client, and although the medics brought her back she can now see ‘the grey’. The grey includes ghosties, vamps, warewolves, etc – the usual bunch. It also includes misty visions of the world beyond death, or some-such. Good for atmosphere, bit vague for specifics.
It was a fun and easy read, very much a scene setter for the series. Lots of effort put into grounding the story in Seattle (rather than generic American city as some UF is) – lots of resistance on Harper’s part to accepting her new role as a ‘greywalker’, which kind of emphasises that this is a nice, normal gal who’s doing her best to muddle through this otherworldly madness. Obviously the real fantasy hoodoo can’t kick-off until she’s accepted and embraced her ghostly powers. I’ve been told this aspect picks up in books two and three of the series, which makes sense.
There was one specific thing that annoyed me. People are revived by medics every day. What is it about Harper that makes her special? Why does she become a greywalker, and the next guy to get revived just get brain damage? It was all a bit wishy-washy and coincidental to keep my disbelief suspended.
Maybe I’ve just been spoilt by coming in at the top end of the UF market? Compared to Dresden, Castor, Grant and Swift... Blaine is too much the UF ‘girl next door’. I’ve no doubt there’s more substance there if you get to know her – but in a crowded genre, Greywalker doesn’t make a strong enough first impression.
Having said that – I will continue to read the series because my wife already owns them – but they’re certainly not top of my wish-list...
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of lif
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my FINISHING THE SERIES! list.
I loves me a good series! But I'm terrible for starting a new series before finishing my last - so this reading list is all about trying to close out those series I've got on the go.
My wife and I found our way to A Madness of Angels through Mike Carey’s Felix Castor books. In the blurb at the back is the publisher’s spiel, “if you liked this you’ll love Kate Griffin…” In our house, Castor is up in silver medal position on the Urban-Fantasy podium, second only to the great Harry Dresden (with Peter Grant currently picking up the bronze). So we went hunting for a copy of the book.
My wife started reading it, put it down, whinged about it, picked it up, put it down, whinged about being pregnant, etc – and it took her several months to actually finish the damn thing, by which time I would have been happy to never to have to hear about it again, let alone read it myself!
Her main complaints were: - self-indulgent, stream-of-consciousness prose - found it hard/impossible to connect with the main character - the style of urban magic was too ‘contrived/cute’
My wife and I have similar taste in books –something which drew us together when we met – but every now and again we disagree completely. There are some pretty mixed reviews of A Madness of Angels here on Goodreads. More than a few people agree with my darling wife, but those who praise the book said enough to make me give it a chance.
It took me while to get into, but by the end I was convinced – I’m a Matthew Swift fan!
Kate Griffin goes about her Urban-Fantazy business a little differently to her peers. For one, her hero starts the story dead – kind of (let’s say disincarnated?). For two he’s possessed – kind of (it’s a symbiotic relationship?). For three, Swift is a sorcerer not a wizard (like Dresden or Grant).
Those first two points are strongly connected – and lead directly to the first two complaints my wife had with the book.
Swift is an urban sorcerer, but he was murdered a couple of years ago by forces unknown. With his last breath Swift poured his dwindling life-force into the telephone lines where his spirit was sheltered by the equivalent of an urban elemental-spirit – the electric angels (born of telephone conversations). When someone summons Swift back to the mortal plane the angels come along, tangled up with him.
Because the story is told first-person, the narrative voice is… odd. Mathew Swift himself is disorientated from death and reincarnation – the electric angels have never been corporeal before, and take a childlike delight in every fresh sensory revelation. Because every sight and sound his hitting the angels so hard, and Mathew is in such a mental muddle, the first couple of chapters are vivid and intense, but also a little tricky to get a handle on. It seems like some readers who don’t gel with this beginning, never really click with the book and don’t enjoy it. I was a little sceptical, but some of the prose is delightful so I was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt.
Next, we move onto the fact that Swift is a sorcerer not a wizard – these two words may seem interchangeable (if you’re not a fantasy aficionado) but they represent two very different mind-sets. Wizards (like Harry Potter, Harry Dresden, Peter Grant, Gandalf the Grey, etc) increase their power and abilities through study, they come from a schools and traditions with systems of magic. Their magic is rule bound, often using set tools and techniques (wands, staffs, broomsticks, spell books, potions, etc). Sorcerers are a very different kettle of fish – to steal a Discworld definition – a sorcerer is a source of magic. Sorcerers fly by the seat of their pants, taking inspiration from their surroundings to create their magic on the spur of the moment. To compare magic and music - wizards are like orchestra musicians, working with others to learn and perform famous compositions, but sorcerers are like jazz artists, improvising on their own. Or maybe wizardry is the science of magic, sorcery the art.
A good sorcerer needs to be aware of his surroundings. A good sorcerer needs to see the potential in the world before him. These qualities give Swifts narration a strongly lyrical quality, a somewhat tangential train of thought and stream of consciousness – again, I can see why some readers didn’t gel, but I found the positives outweighed the negatives comfortably.
Matt Swift is an urban sorcerer, so the powers he’s tapping into are the ebb and flow of city life. Graffiti. Cash machines. Wheelie bins. Tube stations. Pigeons. I love London and found it all delightfully evocative, there are some wonderfully imaginative scenes and concepts. Because Matt is now twinned with the electric angels, he’s now regarded by the magical big wigs of the city as something of a power-player, opening some interesting doors.
My only complaint really, is that come the end, the final antagonist is a little underwhelming. It’s a gradual build up – Matt has to figure out what’s happened while he’s been dead, why he’s been brought back (and by who) and then work his way up through various henchmen to fight the big-bad. I was right there, every step of the way, until the final showdown, which left me all ‘meh’. I loved the badass dragon though!
Overall, I enjoyed A Madness of Angels a great deal and I’m very much looking forward to the next in (and the rest of) the Matthew Swift series.
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of lif
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Following the resounding success of my Locus Quest, I faced a dilemma: which reading list to follow it up with? Variety is the spice of life, so I’ve decided to diversify and pursue six different lists simultaneously. This book falls into my FINISHING THE SERIES! list.
I loves me a good series! But I'm terrible for starting a new series before finishing my last - so this reading list is all about trying to close out those series I've got on the go.
In 1963 Lawrence of Arabia won the best picture Oscar – and deserved it! But what’s that got to do with Rivers of London?
That same year, Dr. Who made his debut on British TV – and he’s still going strong. But what’s that got to do with Rivers of London?
Before launching his hugely popular Peter Grant series of urban-fantasy police-procedurals, author Ben Aaronovitch wrote TV scripts for Dr. Who. I know there are also plenty of fans in the USA and around the world, but in the UK, Dr. Who is cultural landmark. Here in Cardiff, we have a whole tourist attraction called “The Dr. Who Experience” – and I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who wouldn’t know what I was talking about if I said ‘exterminate’ in a nasal, robotic voice. Anyone who’s worked on Dr. Who is sprinkled with fairydust (or should that be tardis-dust? No. That just sounds like his tardis needs a dusting).
My point (I think) is that Ben A comes into the picture as a writer already well steeped in fantastical fiction, British idiosyncrasies and prime-time TV entertainment – and Rivers of London does not disappoint. That’s not to say it’s perfect, but as far as new series go it’s pretty damn promising.
The obvious reference point here is Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files. If you’ve never heard of them (where have you been?) they’re a phenomenally successful, fourteen (fifteen now?) book series about a wise-cracking, private-dick, wizard in Chicago.
Rivers of London is about a copper in London. I’d like to say an ordinary copper in London, but Peter Grant realises he ain’t exactly ordinary when he interviews a ghost as a witness to a murder. Things only get weirder from there on in as he gets recruited into the Met’s special branch for weird-sh!t , meets a family of river goddesses and goes toe-to-toe with an ancient spirit of anarchy.
So let’s play compare’n’contrast: Harry is a lone-ranger, Peter is part of the police force. Harry comes in a fully-fledged wizard, Peter is just learning his first spells. Harry is loud and American, Peter is dry and British. Harry is white, Peter is black. While these two series are in the same ballpark, they’re a very different kettle of fish.
London is becoming a bit of a hot-spot city setting for urban fantasy: there are two strong urban fantasy series (Peter Grant and Matt Swift) set there, and several great stand-alone urban-fantasy novels (Neverwhere, Anansi Boys, Kraken, King Rat, Un Lun Dun). Of them all, it’s Aaranovitch’s which feels closest to a real sense of modern London. This isn’t a fantasy thru-the-looking glass (like Neverwhere or Kraken) these are fantastic adventures in the London we know and love. Whereas the Matt Swift series is about an urban-sorcerer, below-the-radar, magic-in-the-gutters , type scenario – Peter is an upstanding officer of the law, flashing his siren in pursuit of magical evil doers. It’s all very above board, level-headed and in the light of day. That’s... extremely refreshing as an angle on urban fantasy.
Peter himself is, of course, the star of the show. No amount of clever magic or imaginative use of location can carry a series if the lead character isn’t loveable – and Peter really is. He’s funny in a dry, sometimes whimsical, observational fashion – no slapstick or gags. His family is unconventional but still believable, and his relationship with them rings true. His flaws are all very believable for a lad of his age.
I saw a review which said “this is hardly deep and meaningful reading” – hell no, it’s not! This is very much page-turning, popcorn-munching, pure-pleasure, fun reading!
So why didn’t it get five-stars?
It’s actually quite hard for me to put my finger on. I think Rivers of London was trying to do a lot as the first book in a series – introduce our boy, Peter, to a whole world of magic at the same time as tackling a big case and a complex sub-plot... it was perhaps a little too much to keep cohesive and ended up a bit disjointed. It wasn’t a huge problem – every chapter is great fun, but the overall story didn’t quite have enough punch in the climax to clinch that whole-hearted “whoop-whoop!” response that I look for in a five-star. It drops down to the next rank as “a damn fine book” instead.