Review: Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 7

The malevolent White No Face has returned, forced Xie Lian to relive the most horrifying experiences of his long life, and locked him inside the Kiln. Amazingly, that is nowhere near as bad as things are going to get for the good guys.

But one thing that can’t be denied is that the seventh volume of “Heaven Official’s Blessing” is the most insane and wild volume to date, with Mo Xiang Tong Xiu unleashing her fertile imagination in all sorts of grandiose, sometimes bizarre ways. At the same time, she reveals the series’ most shocking plot twist, and explores the horrifying backstory of just what White No Face is, what shaped him into the monster he has become, and why he’s so obsessed with Xie Lian.

Trapped in the Kiln, Xie Lian faces off against White No-Face – and ends up breaking free in an awesome, spectacular manner that I won’t spoil here. He’s reunited with Hua Cheng and his friends and tries to escape the erupting Mount Tonglu – but the tormented souls of the people of Wuyong escape the volcano, threatening a new plague of Human Face Disease on the world. Xie Lian, Hua Cheng and their allies – along with a few familiar faces from along the way – are all that stand between the human world and horrifying mayhem.

But that’s nothing compared to what happens when Xie Lian learns the terrifying truth of who White No-Face really is, and how and why the ghost has been stalking him for hundreds of years. Furthermore, his enemy has even more power than he ever suspected – enough to topple Heaven and overwhelm even the most powerful of gods. Xie Lian will need some help to even hope to defeat him and save humanity from a plague – not just from Hua Cheng, but from friends, enemies and total strangers.

It’s very difficult to praise “Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 7” in specific terms, simply because it requires me to praise its colossal plot twist and the immense payoff of… well, the entire story so far. It’s hard to do that without giving away White No-Face’s secrets and identities, as well as the question of why he dedicated so much time and energy to tormenting Xie Lian, because MXTX did a masterful job of surprising audiences with the many answers to the questions raised over the course of her story. It’s exceptional, and it should be read blindly so you can be surprised.

That also applies to some of the massive, imaginative developments in this extended climax, worthy of a blockbuster movie scripted by a crazed genius. While a lot of it involves sneaking around, mass curbstomps and a very long exposition scene involving Xianle’s state preceptor, MXTX throws in some gloriously over-the-top, wildly imaginative scenes. Like the fiery city-mechan. Or a Statue-of-Liberty-sized divine statue flying into space, fueled by kisses and drawn by butterflies and lanterns. I am not making that up. It actually happens. It’s glorious.

At the same time, she spins up a web of lies, answers, complicated backstories, bloody action, a very sad seeming-death, and some bursts of slightly frenetic comedy (Quan Yizhen beating up Qi Rong with his own statue). Everything comes to a climactic boiling point as just about everything up until now – corpse-eating rats, ghost garments, fetus ghosts, volcanoes and magic evil-revealing swords – comes back into the story with a distinct purpose. Same with the characters, reintroducing everyone from Pei Ming’s crazed stalker to Xie Lian’s eccentric mentor.

With all this stuff going on, the romance could have easily been lost in the shuffle, but MXTX mixes in countless little tender moments between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, made all the more endearing by Hua Cheng’s mischievous flirtations and Xie Lian’s giggling nervousness. It’s very cute, and MXTX stuffs a little fluff into every crevice in the story where it can fit, even if it’s just Hua Cheng sitting next to Xie Lian while he listens to exposition.

“Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 7” hurtles towards the grand finale like a freight train – full of wildly apocalyptic action, charming romance and explanations for just about everything. And the ride ain’t over yet.

Review: The Forest Grimm by Kathryn Purdie

Disclaimer: I received an advance copy of this book from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

Outside the town of Grimm’s Hollow is the Forest Grimm – a magical place twisted by a malevolent curse that draws bespelled people into its depths and is slowly killing the surrounding farmland.

And as you could probably guess by the name of the forest, “The Forest Grimm” by Kathryn Purdie wraps itself in a cloak of glittering fairy tales. But these aren’t the sanitized, Disneyfied stories you might know, where all you need to fix things is true love’s kiss. Instead, her elegant, winding fantasy tale delves into the dark, distorted versions of these familiar tales, with a seemingly doomed heroine as perhaps the only chance of breaking the curse.

For her entire life, the cards telling Clara’s fortune have said only one thing – she will die young, as a result of a “fanged creature.” Despite this dismal future, she is determined to enter the hostile Forest Grimm and find her beloved mother, who was the very first person to be lost there – and if she can’t find her mother directly, then she wants to find a missing magical book, the Sortes Fortunae, to end the curse once and for all.

Then she discovers something shocking: the forest will allow a person to enter it if they have red rampion. And before she vanished, Clara’s mother made her a hooded cloak dyed with rampion flowers – which she takes as a sign that she’s destined to enter the Forest Grimm and change the fate of everyone in the forest and the town. She’s accompanied in her quest by Axel, a strikingly handsome young man whose fiancee Ella vanished into the forest, and her best friend Henni, who also happens to be Ella’s sister.

Unfortunately, the Forest Grimm has bigger dangers than vicious trees and a constantly-shifting landscape. It doesn’t just take the people of Grimm’s Hollow – it changes and twists them, and its dark, malevolent magic is channeled through them. Also, a giant wolf is following Clara, and she’s pretty sure it’s the fanged creature destined to kill her. But fate may have something else in mind, if Clara can stay alive long enough.

“The Forest Grimm” is one of those fantasy stories that trips lightly on the edge of horror, especially the gruesome whimsy found in old-timey fairy tales. The fairy tale figures here are not sweet-natured princesses in pretty dresses – they are cruel, maddened and extremely dangerous, whether they are using a vast web of prehensile hair, tree roots or some well-timed magic mushrooms. And yes, it’s THAT kind of magic mushrooms.

And Kathryn Purdie weaves the entire tale together with elegance and skill. Her writing has a timeless quality reminiscent of the fairy tales she twines into her original tale, except for a few more modern-sounding descriptions of how attractive Axel is. And alongside her dark fairy-tale trappings, she also dips into some fairly heavy thematic material about whether a person can change their fate, and whether your fate is necessarily what you think it is.

It helps that Clara is one of the most likable and engaging heroines I’ve read about in years – she’s earnest and unselfish, resourceful and determined. Believing that she has no future, she tries to ensure a future for other people, even if it hurts her in the process. Axel is a thoroughly wholesome male lead alongside her, and their budding relationship is a tentative, sweet one… if they can get past issues with obligation, guilt and loneliness.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about “The Forest Grimm” is finishing it, and realizing that the story is not actually over – meaning that I now have to wait for Kathryn Purdie to publish the sequel before I can find out what’s next for Clara, Axel and Henni. In the meantime, it’s a richly-imagined, shadows-and-tatters homage to Grimm’s fairy tales.

Review: The horrors of “The Lord of the Rings: Gollum”

It hasn’t been a good few years to be a Lord of the Rings fan.

First, Amazon crapped on Tolkien’s intellectual property with The Rings of Power, even as they followed the time-honored tradition of attacking the fans preemptively to try to bully people into watching. I’ve been blocked by TheOneRingNet on Twitter after I called them out for bigotry against Tolkien’s religion and their abuse of fans, and I am very proud of that fact. Being blocked by bigots is practically a compliment.

And then… we got The Lord of the Rings: Gollum.

If anything will make you miss the glory days of Lord of the Rings games, it will be this… thing. The Lord of the Rings: Gollum proves that there is a distinct lack of quality control in J.R.R. Tolkien’s franchise, displayed here through a game that is deeply and intensely broken on every level. Nothing about this game is good, except for possibly the entertainment factor of goggling at whatever aspect of Tolkien’s world that is being molested.

The core concept is not necessarily a bad one. Sure, a video game about a cannibalistic crackhead who obsesses about jewelry sounds like a terrible idea, but Gollum is a complex and nuanced enough character to lend himself to an expanded story. He’s also strong and nimble, which lends itself well to the idea of a parkour game. The story supposedly covers Gollum’s adventures prior to the events of The Lord of the Rings, namely how he was captured by Sauron and imprisoned in Mordor, and then captured by the wood-elves and imprisoned in Mirkwood.

Unfortunately, it soon becomes obvious what is wrong with the game. For one thing, it looks like a PS2 game that somehow fell through a time vortex and landed in the year 2023… and was given a PS5 release. The graphics are primitive at best, eye-gougingly ugly at worst. Gollum looks like he’s melting 95% of the time, and almost all of the other characters look primitive and sometimes actually unfinished. The color palette is depressingly muted, except for when the world suddenly becomes radioactive and burns your retinas.

There are also a thousand artistic choices that are absolutely baffling. Why does Thranduil look like an overtrimmed shrub is growing out of his head? Why is Gandalf referred to as “wizard”? Why do some of the orcs have phallic armor? Why is there a random Russian in Mordor? Why is one of the orcs French? Why does Gollum have a bird sidekick? Why does the Mouth of Sauron dress like an extra from “Dune”?And why, in the name of Eru, did someone decide that Sauron, the Nazgul and the orcs weren’t sufficient villains for the story, and thus we needed a new and chilling enemy titled “The Candle Man”?

Even this might have been slightly tolerable if they had plumbed the depths of Gollum’s tortured, addiction-wracked, divided mind. Unfortunately, most of what the devs seem to know about him is the existence of his Smeagol alter ego… and not much else. He’s never convincingly depicted as the sly, corrupt, malign, disgusting little creature of Tolkien’s works – this Gollum has an internal moral debate about killing a beetle and adopts a little baby bird. For context, the Gollum of Tolkien’s books ate babies. Human babies.

As if the story wasn’t bad enough, the game is extremely broken – glitchy and buggy, frequent crashes, and a confusingly random frame rate that often makes the animation janky and stuttering. The stealth mechanics are poor, with some tasks that are very difficult to complete due to a lack of user-friendliness, and it’s often difficult to see what’s going on around Gollum. It sometimes feels like a game made by enthusiastic but not-very-well-trained amateurs who did their best… except that you’re expected to pay for it.

Playing The Lord of the Rings: Gollum is a thankless, joyless experience, and it is all the more egregious when you realize it was based on the life’s work of a man who so expertly and passionately crafted his imaginary world. There are many good or at least tolerable Lord of the Rings games, and any of those would be better than this one.

Recommendation: The Untamed

I will probably write a full-blown review of this TV series sometime in the future, once I figure out how to summarize fifty plot-packed episodes that bounce around the timeline of almost twenty years.

So, quick sum-up: The Untamed is a Chinese xianxia TV show that became a hit on Netflix because… well, people are starved for good TV, and it’s a good TV show. It’s based on the Mo Dao Zu Shi/Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation books by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (pseudonym), which recently got published in the United States. The original novels are part of a genre called danmei, which refers to books aimed at the female reading public that focus on a romantic relationship between two men. But because of Chinese censorship laws, the TV show just has the most intense bromance you will ever find.

The bare-bones summary is that it takes place in an ancient-medieval-styled fantasy world where Daoist magic allows people to have superpowers, fly on their swords, manipulate spiritual energy, and so on. A mentally ill man summons the spirit of Wei Wuxian, who was sort of the bogeyman of the cultivation world. Before he died sixteen years ago, he used demonic magic and rebelled against all the various sects, so they regard him as being a sort of low-level Sauron. Wei Wuxian ends up in the body of the mentally-ill man so he can enact revenge against the guy’s family, and ends up tangled in a weird supernatural mystery. He also reconnects with Lan Zhan, who was his best friend in his old life, despite them having opposite personalities.

It’s a little hard to understand what’s going on in the first two episodes, but it quickly flashes back for about thirty episodes to reveal everything that got the main characters to the present day. Basically, refined uptight boy Lan Zhan despised Wei Wuxian at first because Wei Wuxian was a free spirit who regularly flouted the rules, but eventually grew to admire and care about him. At the same time, the various sects have to deal with the Wen clan, who are effectively taking over everything, and Wei Wuxian ends up sacrificing everything to help other people, but is branded a monster for doing so. He’s also being framed by somebody who is only revealed much later on.

After that flashback, it’s a good idea to go watch the first two episodes a second time, now that you know who everybody is and what their history consists of. After that, it follows Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan as they try to figure out who the mastermind behind all this is.

The biggest problem of the story is obviously the censorship. Not just because they had to remove the romantic elements, but because it won’t allow such things as ghosts and zombies… in a story about a necromancer. As a result, there are some scars and stitch marks in the narrative where things had to be excised or drastically changed.

But if you can get past that, it’s a great show. The casting is one of the most perfect ones I’ve seen since Lord of the Rings – every actor is giving a pitch-perfect performance, and some of the roles are pretty difficult. The roles of the two leads are particularly hard. Lan Zhan is a sort of defrosting ice prince who conveys a lot of emotion with very few words and extremely understated facial expressions.

And the actor playing Wei Wuxian is called on to play a mercurial quirky genius. He could have been a very irritating character in a less talented man’s hands, but he’s absolutely charming instead – and it’s worth noting that Wei Wuxian goes through a LOT of development. He suffers a complete mental breakdown, is tormented for months until he’s suffering from PTSD, has a fixation on family relationships, has a crippling fear of dogs, and so on and so forth. He overall grows from a brilliant but cocky youth into a clever and more insightful man, all without losing his mischievous streak or his ADHD.

And there are billions of characters in this drama, and many of them have their own stories and development as well. Hell, a few of them get whole side-stories, such as the psychotic Xue Yang and the pure-hearted Xiao Xingchen.

A few cultural details require explanations to understand, but the backbone of The Untamed is just really good storytelling, excellent acting and a gripping, complex story that will keep you mesmerized right to the end.

Review: Tress of the Emerald Sea

While the rest of us were gaining weight and getting depressed during the Covid-19 lockdown, Brandon Sanderson was doing what he does best: churning out books.

And the first of these four surprise books is “Tress of the Emerald Sea,” a Cosmere novel that mingles quirky fairy-tale quests for a true love with the rough’n’tumble life of a pirate. Sanderson gives us a extraordinarily ordinary heroine who stumbles and triumphs on her quest, along with a talking rat, seas of colorful spores, and the occasional zombie doctor.

Tress is a seemingly ordinary girl on a small rocky island in the green spore sea – she collects teacups, washes windows, loves her family, and regularly meets with the local duke’s son, Charlie. When the duke realizes that his son is in love with a window-washing girl, he whisks the boy off the island to marry a princess. When the duke returns, he’s got a brand new heir with a new wife – and Charlie is nowhere to be seen. He’s been sent off to the realm of the Sorceress in the Midnight Sea, which means he’s effectively doomed.

But Tress is determined to get him back, so she smuggles herself off the island… and finds herself the prisoner first of smugglers, and then a crew of pirates ruled by the bloodthirsty Captain Crow. She also acquires a talking rat friend, Huck, who becomes her best friend and ally, especially since he knows some things about the Sorceress. Though the situation isn’t ideal, Tress believes the ship can get her to the Sorceress, and manages to work her way into the crew.

But her plans are complicated when she becomes friends with several of the pirates, and learns some disturbing facts about Crow. How can a simple window-washer girl defeat a pirate captain, sail the deadly Crimson and Midnight Seas, escape a dragon and defeat the terrible Sorceress – all while learning the true nature of spores and aethers?

“Tress of the Emerald Sea” is one parts fairy tale, one part pirate adventure, and one part Cosmere story (especially since the narrator is none other than Hoid, who plays a pivotal role). And the world Sanderson conjures is a fascinating one, where twelve moons produce a steady downfall of spores that form whole seas that wooden ships can sail on. But, much like a mogwai, never expose them to water, or very bad things happen.

Since Hoid is the one telling the tale, the entire story unfolds in a quirky, laid-back narrative style, reminiscent of William Goldman or a more modern fairy tale. It’s arch, snarky and very omniscient third-person (Tress’s hair is once described as an “eldritch horror” bent on “disintegrating reality, seeking the lives of virgins, and demanding a sacrifice of a hundred bottles of expensive conditioner”). The only major flaw, ironically, is that self-same snarky tone – it sometimes becomes kind of overbearing, especially during the more serious parts of the story, and sometimes it feels like Hoid is hijacking the story.

It also has Sanderson’s exceptional world-building, especially in the idea of the spores, which will immediately erupt into SOMETHING – air, vines, crystals – upon contact with water. And while Sanderson weaves in elements of the Cosmere, creating a more science-fiction-y world, there are elements of magic included in it, such as Huck. No, I will not explain what is up with the rat, only that not all is as it seems… as you’d expect with a talking rat.

Tress herself is an exceptional heroine – smart, resourceful, determined, good-hearted and practical, with a nimble brain and a love for collectible cups. Her relationship with Huck is very wholesome and sometimes heartwrenching, as are her friendships with other members of the crew – a seemingly-zombie doctor, an assistant cannonmaster who never successfully hits anything, a cheery deaf man with a writing board, and the deadly, nihilistic Captain Crow. There are also Dougs, but we don’t care about them.

“Tress of the Emerald Sea” is a charming, well-paced story that is a little too suffused in Hoid for its own good. For those seeking a rollicking pirate adventure with some wild fantastical twists, this is a must-read.

Review: Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 2

Xie Lian has ferreted out another god’s dirty laundry… but he had no idea that someone would reveal his own past misdeeds.

In fact, a great deal of “Heaven Official’s Blessing” Volume 2 is dedicated to Xie Lian’s past, both recent and ancient – Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (hereafter referred to as MXTX) delves into a situation that threatens to stain Xie Lian’s reputation, before diving back eight hundred years to his days as a mortal prince. There are a heavy load of unexpected twists, a loathsome new villain, and some gripping insights into how Hua Cheng came to be so enraptured by the prince of Xianle.

The heavenly emperor Jun Wu gives Xie Lian a new mission: enter Ghost City and find out what happened to a Heavenly Official who sent out a distress call. Accompanied by the exuberant, gender-flipping Wind Master Shi Qingxuan and the earnest Lang Qianqiu, he heads into what qualifies as enemy territory… except that Ghost City is also Hua Cheng’s demesne. And Hua Cheng is very, very pleased to see him there, which unfortunately doesn’t make Ghost City any less perilous.

To make matters worse, Lang Qianqiu discovers that Xie Lian is a figure from his own past – the state preceptor who murdered his family. Even more shocking, Xie Lian freely admits his guilt. But Hua Cheng knows there’s something more than meets the eye, and invades Heaven itself to take Xie Lian away from captivity. Alongside this mysterious ghost, Xie Lian will find out exactly what happened centuries ago… and rediscover a terrible figure from his own past.

Speaking of his past, we then get bounced back in time eight hundred years. Back then, Xie Lian was a kind but naive teen prince who believed he could do anything – like abandon a ritual fight during a parade to rescue a child from a fatal fall. To the dismay of the state preceptor, he steadfastly refused to accept any kind of blame. When his cousin tries to murder the child for the second time, Xie Lian takes the boy under his wing – with no idea how the boy will affect his future.

If the first volume of “Heaven Official’s Blessing” was devoted mostly to unraveling supernatural mysteries, then the second one is devoted mostly to exploring some of Xie Lian’s backstory. Obviously a character who’s eight hundred years old can’t be summed up that quickly, but we see a little of how he used to be – especially the glimpse of him as a mortal teenager, still recognizably kind and good-hearted, but also kind of spoiled and arrogant.

It stands in stark contrast to the Xie Lian of the present, who is much humbler, more self-deprecating, and happy to live in a shack-turned-shrine. At the same time, we see the scars that his past actions have left on him, and hear about some particularly nasty run-ins he’s had. Conversely, we get glimpses of Hua Cheng from the past – seriously, it’s abundantly clear who the little boy in the flashback is – that contrast sharply against the confident, powerful, seductive figure he is now.

We also encounter an array of new characters – we see more of Mu Qing and Feng Xin, Xie Lian’s former servants, both in the present and the past; the powerful and promiscuous Pei Ming; the friendly and unembarrassable Shi Qingxuan; and the vaguely paternal Jun Wu.

MXTX also shows off her ability to combine twisty, cleverly-plotted story arcs with amusing, warmer moments for the characters (Xie Lian and Hua Cheng nerding out over a room full of rare swords) and the occasional laugh-out-loud moment (Xie Lian publicly faking impotence to escape a prostitute). She also demonstrates a talent for weaving romance into the story, such as when Hua Cheng “teaches” Xie Lian to roll dice. Nothing obvious, nothing explicit – just the characters gazing at each other and touching one another’s hands. Very sensual.

ZeldaCW also deserves credit for the interior illustrations, black-and-white pictures of both detail and delicacy. Particular highlights includes Xie Lian stroking Hua Cheng’s sword (no, not a euphemism), Shi Qingxuan doing battle in a sexy dress (while male), Xie Lian being swarmed by butterflies, and his teenage self in his God-Pleasing Warrior garb.

The second volume of “Heaven Official’s Blessing” delves a lot deeper than the first one did, revealing more about the self-deprecatingly pleasant prince and the mysterious ghost who loves him. And it leaves you poised to dive right into the third volume, just to find out what happens next. Beware – it’s going to get dark.

Review: Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 1

Once upon a time, Xie Lian was the beloved crown prince of a beautiful kingdom, who ascended to godhood in his teens. But then he interfered in mortal affairs, made things worse, and was cast out. He ascended to godhood a second time… and was kicked out again.

And in “Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 1,” we find out what happens when this unfortunate godling ascends to deityhood for the third time. Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (pen name, to be hereafter referred to as MXTX) digs into Xie Lian’s story with a heady mix of timeless romance with a uniquely Chinese brand of high fantasy, where the powerful or virtuous can become deities, but the tormented and tragic may become something else.

Upon his third ascension to godhood, Xie Lian discovers that nothing has really changed – he’s deeply in debt, and none of the other gods like or respect him. The usual way to pay off his debt is by receiving merits from the worship of mortals… except people stopped worshiping him eight hundred years ago. But there is another way – he can investigate a certain mysterious problem on a rural mountain, where seventeen brides have been abducted by a mysterious “ghost groom.”

With the assistance of the sulky, combative Fu Yao and Nan Feng, he goes undercover (as a bride) to find out what is abducting the girls – and ends up being escorted up the mountain by a handsome, mysterious stranger dressed all in red, who turns into a swarm of silver butterflies. But that man was NOT the ghost groom – which leaves Xie Lian to uncover the horror that lives atop the mountain. To make matters worse, the locals are also searching for the ghost groom, which only makes things more complicated when things inevitably go pear-shaped.

After that, Xie Lian decides to set up a shrine to himself in an abandoned shack, with the help of a young man named San Lang, who is very obviously not what he pretends to be. But trouble finds Xie Lian again when someone tries to trick him into going to a haunted pass in the Gobi desert, near the dead city-state of Banyue. Even weirder, the other gods seem to avoid talking about this.

Along with San Lang, Fu Yao and Nan Feng, he sets out to the pass to find out what’s going on there, and ends up encountering a sandstorm, a few dozen merchants… and a cave full of scorpion-snakes. But that’s only the beginning of the undying terrors that still dwell in Banyue, killing anyone unlucky enough to pass through. And soon Xie Lian realizes that someone in Banyue has a very strong connection to him.

I personally like my romance stories with a heavy dose of plot, which makes “Heaven Official’s Blessing” perfectly balanced – even if the slow-blooming romance weren’t part of the story, it would still be a solid fantasy-horror series with gods, ghosts, goblins, zombies, and a really freaky undead face in the ground. The exalted and elegant world of the gods is a stark contrast to the nightmarish creatures that lurk in the mortal world below.

It’s also a fantasy that feels distinct from its western cousins – its world and cosmology are uniquely Chinese, drawing heavily from Taoism and other Chinese beliefs. The two supernatural mysteries are pretty well-developed, both horrifying and yet tragic, and the stories occasionally slow down a little for either some mild comic relief (the entire “Tremendous Masculinity” story, which is thankfully explained in full) or an ethereal romantic moment between Xie Lian and his mysterious red-clad man of the silver butterflies.

MXTX’s writing is bright and evocative, with a casual omniscent narrator (“One might ask, if there was an Upper Court and a Middle Court, was there a Lower Court? … No.”) that makes it feel like you’re sitting in the room with her and explaining her story as she tells it. There are also a number of very nice interior illustrations by ZeldaCW, delicate and evocative, of such things as Xie Lian and San Lang surrounded by snakes and riding in a cart, Xie Lian in a wedding dress, and an adorable chibi drawing of the four with the broken sword.

Xie Lian is an easy character to like – perpetually unlucky and unpopular, yet unfailingly earnest and kind to everyone around him (as long as they don’t beat up girls). But MXTX gives us broad hints that he hasn’t always been so upbeat about his unfortunate life, and of past struggles yet to be explored. On the flip side, we have the mysterious Hua Cheng, a supposedly terrifying figure that treats Xie Lian with flirtatious kindness that hints at deeper emotions; and the cast is rounded out by Fu Yao and Nan Feng, a couple of clashing, abrasive young men who actually do care about the disgraced prince.

“Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 1” is a solid beginning to a webnovel series that perfectly balances out a slow-blooming romance, a solid blend of fantasy and horror, and some supernatural mystery. A great place to start.

Review: The Graveyard Book

Imagine Rudyard Kipling’s “Jungle Book”… but replace the animals with ghosts, ghouls, werewolves and other such supernatural creatures.

Such is the concept of “The Graveyard Book,” which cleverly turns Kipling’s classic story into an exquisitely-written, darkly witty fantasy. While it starts as the assorted supernatural adventures of a young boy raised by ghosts, the story slowly evolves into a beautifully ghastly confrontation between Nobody Owens and the people who want to do him harm.

“There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.” A man named Jack kills an innocent family at night — except for a baby boy, who toddles out to the graveyard.

With the approval of the Lady on the Grey, the Owens ghosts adopt the boy, whom they name Nobody (or “Bod” for short), and the mysterious not-dead-or-alive Silas is appointed his guardian. Bod slowly grows up, but his upbringing is hardly ordinary — he is taught by a Hound of God, wanders into the horrific realm of Ghulheim, watches a danse macabre, and befriends a witch’s spirit from the Potter’s Field.

But the man named Jack is still out there, and for some reason he (and the organization he works for) still wants to kill Bod. And though Silas and the ghosts are trying to keep him safe, Bod is becoming curious about the world of living humans — and about the man who murdered his family. And when they come for him, he’ll be ready.

The world of Neil Gaiman is never a safe place — it’s always painted in shadows and shades of grey, and something horrible may be lurking around the corner. And the world of “The Graveyard Book” is no exception to this — it’s filled with strange supernatural creatures, hellish red cities with decayed moons overhead, and midnight parades where ghosts dance with the living.

The world of the graveyard is an intriguing one — moonlight, crumbly headstones, a little stone church, and a creepy barrow where the Sleer lurk. From a lesser author this would be kind of boring, but Gaiman’s beautiful prose brings it to life (“There was a silent implosion, a flutter of velvet darkness, and Silas was gone”).

And Gaiman explores Bod’s childhood with dark humour (“Can you imagine how fine a drink the black ichor that collects in leaden coffins can be?”) and adventure. But the tone changes as Bod grows older, especially with the creepily professional Jack and his cohorts slowly closing in on him. It’s a coming-of-age tale, and a bittersweet, sometimes terrifying one.

Bod himself is a lovable kid, who slowly explores first the world of the graveyard and then the world of the living. He’s both ruthless and kind, sweet and strong. The mysterious Silas — whose true nature is only revealed late in the book — serves as a kindly but stern mentor, who pretty clearly loves young Bod like a father.

And there’s a pretty wide supporting cast — Bod’s childhood friend Scarlett is rather bratty, but the ghosts make up for that. The snappy, witty witch Eliza, the kindly Owenses, Mother Slaughter, the fussy Mr. Pennyworth, and the schoolteacherish substitute guardian Miss Lupescu all round out the cast. And with only a few lines, Gaiman makes them seem practically real.

“The Graveyard Book” is a beautifully written, bittersweet coming-of-age tale with some moments of pure creepiness. A magnificent fantasy story, which is not to be missed.

Review: The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm

The Inheritance Cycle ended with a number of loose threads left flapping in the breeze, and the door wide open for more adventures in Alagaesia.

And Christopher Paolini has started telling those adventures in “The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm,” a trio of short stories nested in early stories about Eragon’s new home. While it likely won’t grip fans of the series the way the original books did — these are basically stories within a fairly sedate framework — Paolini’s writing has matured somewhat, and he tells the tales here with more steadiness and assuredness than in his past works.

A year has passed, and Eragon is living in a new mountain fortress being created for a new generation of Dragon-Riders. The problems and new responsibilities are weighing on him, so at Saphira’s insistence, he spends some time with the Eldunari. The dragons’ hearts show him events unfolding elsewhere in Alagaesia — a small girl encounters a mysterious (yet familiar) traveler who advises her on how to deal with bullies… right before they both find themselves in a deadly confrontation. It involves a fork.

Then that winter, Angela the herbalist arrives at Eragon’s new home, bringing with her Elva the accursed witch-child — and her autobiography (written by the author’s sister, Angela Paolini), which reveals her experiences with Elva. Finally, a tragic accident at Mount Arngor leaves Eragon unhappy and tired, which leads to him being told a story by the Urgals — the tale of an Urgal girl’s quest for revenge against the vicious dragon that killed her father.

“The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm” seems to be Paolini preparing to expand his fictional universe, perhaps only through short stories or perhaps through more full-length novels. Through these stories, he not only catches up with the characters left from the previous four books — Eragon, Murtagh, Angela and Elva — but he also hints at new and terrible villains to be explored later.

But fans are unlikely to be satisfied by this, because Eragon’s role is mostly just to sit around and listen to other people tell him things. He doesn’t even interact much with Saphira. Also, about half the book is taken up by the Urgal story, which has limited appeal.

Paolini’s writing is decent here — while not entirely mature, his writing has some nice turns of phrase (“Black as charred bone, with a polished gleam to his fitted scales and a throat packed with fire”) as well as some that could have used an editor’s pen (“A slight twinge of heartsickness formed in his chest”). His sister’s writing, alas, is not as good; I found myself skimming through most of it.

Eragon is fairly steady and a little more mature in this volume, although he’s still ridiculously overpowered (he manages to not only lift a collapsed tunnel’s broken rocks, but instantly reassembles them). Saphira is a fairly small presence here, compared to characters like Ilgra the sorcerous Urgal, and a small girl named Essie who has been bullied and blackmailed by a popular girl, only to find out how nasty and frightening other people can truly be.

The trio of stories in “The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm” are reasonably readable little tales that return readers to Alagaesia — seemingly just as the warm-up for some new adventures for Eragon and his allies. Fluffy, but not too bad.

Review: The Sandman, Vol. 6: Fables and Reflections

“The Sandman, Vol. 6: Fables and Reflections” is not quite as essential to the main storyline as the other Sandman short story collections.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t a spellbinding, haunting series of stories, ranging from whimsical glimpses into the Dreaming to dark stories about the consequences of power. Neil Gaiman imbues every story with a sense of richness, mining mythology and history for the backdrops of his tales — and every single one casts a powerful spell over the readers.

The stories include:
-A theatrical director whose fear is reflected in a nightmare of falling.
-The story of Joshua Abraham Norton, the first and only Emperor of the United States – and the center of a struggle between Morpheus and Desire.
-Lady Johanna Constantine sets out to post-Revolutionary France to retrieve a very unusual severed head for Morpheus, and must fight against the repressive, destructive regime.
-An old legend of a werewolf obsessed with the portrait of a lovely young lady, and the lengths he goes to to find her.
-A Roman Emperor who becomes a beggar for a day, reflecting on his horrendous past and Rome’s bleak future.
-Marco Polo becomes lost in the desert, and stumbles into one of the places where the Dreaming overlaps with the waking world.
-The caliph of Baghdad realizes that for all the beauty and majesty of his city, it will eventually crumble like all other great things. So he seeks out the king of dreams to make a very unusual pact with him.

The two most intriguing stories are “The Song of Orpheus” and “The Parliament of Rooks.” The former is a story of Dream’s legendary son, who loses his true love right after their wedding. Grief-stricken, Orpheus feuds with his powerful father, and calls on his aunt Death to help him get his love back. And the latter is a charming little story about Daniel Hall, a toddler who slips into the Dreaming during his naptime. While there, he is told the story of Adam’s three wives, the tale of Cain and Abel, and the parliament of rooks….

While few of the stories in “Fables and Reflections” are directly tied to the central Sandman storyline, this collection of shorts adds a lot of richness and texture to Morpheus’ world. Witches, gods, emperors, werewolves, severed heads and artists all wend their way through these stories, in a world where magic — often dark, twisted and strange — lurks everywhere.

It also seems to have many meditations on the impermanence of things, and the need to remember the past — “Thermidor” shows us a France where all of the past is repressed and obliterated, including the myths that shaped its culture. Baghdad’s beauty and culture are threatened by time, and Rome begins to crumble out of one man’s terrible secrets.

Morpheus wends through these tales like a dark silk ribbon, subtlely shaping the destinies of those he touches — an emperor, a caliph, an explorer and a little baby boy. We see him sorrowful, majestic, cold-hearted and kind, particularly in the tales involving Orpheus, whom he loves but has still not forgiven. And we have more background on Eve, Cain and Abe, all dwelling in the world of the Dreaming.

“The Sandman, Vol. 6: Fables and Reflections” is a jigsaw puzzle of silken dreams and shadowy memories — a beautiful experience, even in its darker moments.