The Tenth Region of the Night (Sword and Serpent #2, 2016)

By Taylor Marshall

Taylor Marshall’s first novel, Sword and Serpent, was a fine effort and well worth the read despite having certain shortcomings common to first novels [see my blog review at LINK ]. As is often the case, this sequel, The Tenth Region of the Night, improves substantially on the first, becoming one of the better books I have read this year, one I unhesitatingly recommend. The protagonist, Jurian, previously coming across rather flat, is now, in my opinion, developed into a fully fleshed-out individual who no longer pales beside the other main character, in that case a young priestess of the serpent himself (she reappears as well), in this latter case the daughter of the governor of Alexandria, named Aikaterina. Even the main villain of the piece gains depth and becomes something more than the stereotypical caricature he seemed in the opening volume. Overall the writing seems much smoother and more engaging than Sword and Serpent, gripping my interest right from the beginning as Jurian continues his quest subsequent to slaying the dragon – an accomplishment which instantly became a legend which dogs his footsteps from then on through this entire tale, for good and ill, as he strives to find and rescue a friend, lost to him in the first book, from death in the arena. Once again, Marshall has taken the history of the late Roman Empire under the Emperor Diocletian and a young Constantine, interwoven with the legends of Sts. George the Dragonslayer and Christopher the Christ-bearer, and others, and added to them the tale of St. Catherine of Alexandria, to create a gripping tale of the early Church in the Roman Empire on the eve of the Great Persecution. Knowing from early Christian history and tradition the trials and tragedies these characters face as that cataclysm looms ever closer, I nonetheless look forward eagerly to following their journeys through Marshall’s imagination to the triumph that ultimately awaits.

Cheers!, and Thanks for reading!

The Autobiography of James T. Kirk (2015)

“Edited by” David A. Goodman

I will lead with the most important point: This is indeed the first-person narrative of the life  of the original series James T. Kirk, not the alternate-timeline doppelganger that is featured in the newer movies.

That having been established, this is an enjoyable book. It’s not great, but quite interesting. It’s not really a fleshed-out faux “autobiography.” It might better be termed “memoirs.” It’s constructed as a series of short vignettes, most of them several pages long but organized into about a dozen chapters (unnamed) spanning the 23^rd-c. lifetime of James Tiberius Kirk, most famous as the captain of the Starship Enterprise. There is a great deal of overlap with episodes of the original Star Trek television series and the subsequent motion pictures, but a great deal of “new” material on Kirk’s youth and linking the events chronicled in the TV/movie canon. What I found most interesting was the insight that is given into the mind of the heroic captain, who comes off in his own mind as a decidedly unheroic figure, filled with self-doubt and remorse for many of the actions that were celebrated in those stories, many of them necessary in the situations in which he found himself, but which he so often wishes could have been different and recognizes were driven – especially in the later episodes and even afterward – by an incredible hubris that had sometimes devastating effects on those around him. On the other hand, we do get a sense of the sterling character that inspired the great love and loyalty evidenced by his crew and friends. All-in-all, we get a very different view of Kirk that makes him a more realistic character than I think I’ve ever experienced him to be.

The Martian (2015)

Directed by Ridley Scott, based on the book by Andy Weir

Disco is dead for a reason. I fear it is about to make a comeback of sorts, however, given its prominence in this wonderful movie about a near-future “Robinson Crusoe on Mars.” Everyone, I’m sure, knows the basic plot, based on the previews alone: One of the six first astronauts to walk the surface of the red planet is believed killed in a freak accident during an emergency evacuation – but he survives, stranded, with only a fraction of the supplies he will need to survive the four years before another manned mission could possibly reach him, given the realities of orbital mechanics. He has no choice but to start “sciencing the shit” out of his hopeless situation. What results is, as was the book, an amazing, uplifting tale of human endurance, innovation, cooperation, and ultimate triumph that I’m not going to make any more detailed comments on than that, except for these few:

Deryni Checkmate (1972, Rev. Ed. 2005) and High Deryni (1973, Rev. Ed. 2007)

By Katherine Kurtz

I previously wrote [LINK] of my history with this series and what brought me back, thirty-odd years after the last time I read it, to the opening trilogy which is collectively called The Chronicles of the Deryni (although that title would now, I think, better serve as a title for the series as a whole). I won’t retread that ground here but rather dive straight off into a few thoughts about the second and third books, which will be intermingled with my thoughts both on the trilogy as a whole and the series as a whole.

Deryni Rising (1970; rev. ed. 2004)

By Katherine Kurtz

Katherine Kurtz’s Deryni series is probably the single “open-ended” series of fiction that I have read most consistently across most of my life. A fairly good number of such series have come and gone from my must-read list (see below); there are a few that I have taken up in the last couple of decades that currently enjoy that status (The Dresden Files, Honor Harrington, The Nathan Heller Cases). But there is only one that I can think of now that I have read virtually all my life, certainly from late-adolescence/early-adulthood. And it is perhaps the most profoundly influential series in shaping my character and personality, who I am today. There was, however, a long dearth in publication of new installments, eight years between when the last appeared in 2006 and the recent publication of the latest late last year, which led to it drifting out of my consciousness. Nevertheless, recent conversation with friends brought it to mind and a quick Internet search revealed the recent publication of the most recent book, which I ordered. But the wait for The King’s Deryni to arrive (some things I’m just not going to read in ebook) also inspired me to revisit the very beginning of the series – sort of.

Sword and Serpent (2014)

By Taylor Marshall

I’ve been familiar with Taylor Marshall for a couple of years, since I stumbled upon his website [LINK] while researching the question of the dating of Christmas late one Christmas night [LINK].  I gradually became a regular reader of his website, and from there about the middle of last year I ended up signing into his New Saint Thomas Institute [LINK] initiative in order to follow his one-year course in Catholic Theology (one of several reasons my blogging in general has decreased and the nature of this blog in particular has shifted somewhat over the past year – there’s quite a bit of “non-bloggable” reading involved).  I also started listening to his podcast, The Taylor Marshall Show [LINK].  I was thus aware some months back that Marshall was making his first foray into writing fiction with this historical novel about St. George and the Dragon.  I eagerly awaited it and downloaded the Kindle edition as soon as it became available.

Looking for the King: An Inklings Novel (2010)

By David C. Downing

I found this novel, also published by Ignatius Press, via Amazon's suggestions based on the fact that I'd read Toward the Gleam [LINK]. This is not Toward the Gleam. Although I found the description enticing – American graduate students in England in 1940, interacting with the Inklings, on a quest for an Arthurian relic – and was immediately hooked by the first chapter or so in the Kindle preview so that I immediately purchased it, I ended up being disappointed by it. There are elements of this novel I really liked. It opens at one of my favorite places in the world, the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey in southwestern England, the reputed resting place of King Arthur, and much of the story takes place at other significant medieval sites that I'm familiar with or are on my list of places I would like to get familiar with (two trips are not nearly enough!) As the narrative progressed it takes an unexpected turn in that the object of the quest becomes ultimately less King Arthur than one of my subjects of historical interest, King Athelstan (r. 924-939), probably the most important of the late Anglo-Saxon kings of England, a true “Christian King and Hero” [LINK] who may well have come into possession of one of the most powerful relics of the Crucifixion.  Frankly, for all his importance, Athelstan is largely forgotten in the memory of later ages, overshadowed by his grandfather Alfred the Great, and it is cool beyond words to find his legend at the heart of a modern novel.  Looking for the King is suffused with the early medieval England that I love, and seems well researched as evidenced by a good set of historical notes and a bibliography at the end. (The mistaken identification of the foes defeated by Otto of Saxony at the Battle of the Lechfeld in 955 as “Mongols” rather than Magyars I'm willing to dismiss as a literary slip of the tongue.)