Go! Go! Joe Abercrombie Excerpt

Now I don't make a habit of posting blurbs and cover art and excerpts. These things, they have their place on the blogosphere - I wouldn't question it - but by and large, those places aren't here. If you want all that jazz to factor into your daily reading, the aforementioned Aidan's got you covered, with class, concise commentary et al.

Which isn't to say I don't ever repost publicity materials: only that it takes a special case for me to make an exception. For the record, China Mieville and Brandon Sanderson (more on whom soon) are the only authors whose excerpts I've pimped out via intravenous TSS. Two excerpts in six-and-some months... not bad going.

Well, make that three. Yesterday, in their newsletter, Gollancz released an exclusive excerpt from The Heroes - Joe Abercrombie's still-a-ways-out next novel, due in the new year - to subscribers. And with everyone's favourite Uncle nodding permission from the comfy chair I set up for him in the corner, I'm reproducing it here for those of you who don't subscribe to the monthly email loveliness. Which you almost certainly should. In fact, let me introduce you to a link to ease the very thing.

Anyway. The excerpt:

Chapter 1 of The Heroes by Joe Abercrombie

Splattering Brain Matter Starting January 2011

I haven't been able to read it myself yet - my pesky computer keeps choking on the URL - but, and this should come as no surprise to (love you) longtime readers, I'm something of an Abercrombie devotee. Though I was a touch disappointed by the unrelenting and often rather rote violence of Best Served Cold - the full review is here - The First Law trilogy represented a refreshingly frank and realistic new direction for fantasy at the time of its publication. I did it, too, something of a disservice, stopping and starting throughout despite having the whole saga to hand; by the time I came to read it in full, the style of storytelling Abercrombie pioneered had already been imitated ad infinitum. Despite that, I have a great deal of respect for the author, and high hopes for The Heroes, which is set to go back to the well in terms of setting and a couple of returning characters.

Here's the blurb, in case you haven't perused it yet:

"War: where the blood and dirt of the battlefield hide the dark deeds committed in the name of glory. The Heroes is about violence and ambition, gruesome deaths and betrayals; and the brutal truth that no plan survives contact with enemy. The characters are the stars, as ever, and the message is dark: when it comes to war, there are no heroes...

Meet the heroes.

Curnden Craw: a ruthless fighter who wants nothing more than to see his crew survive.

Prince Calder: a liar and a coward, he will regain his crown by any means necessary.

Bremer dan Gorst: a master swordsman, a failed bodyguard, his honor will be restored - in the blood of his enemies.

Over three days, their fates will be sealed."

Roll on January, right?

Meantime, I'm going to see if I can't get that excerpt working for myself...

Coming Attractions: The Heroes by Joe Abercrombie

We've been hearing about The Heroes for a while, now - for one thing, Joe name-dropped this tremendously exciting forthcoming fantasy in a few interviews for Best Served Cold - but today, thanks to Lauren Panepinto over on the Orbit Books blog, we know that much more.

For starters, here's the blurb:

"War: where the blood and dirt of the battlefield hide the dark deeds committed in the name of glory. The Heroes is about violence and ambition, gruesome deaths and betrayals; and the brutal truth that no plan survives contact with enemy. The characters are the stars, as ever, and the message is dark: when it comes to war, there are no heroes...

Meet the Heroes.

Curnden Craw: a ruthless fighter who wants nothing more than to see his crew survive.

Prince Calder: a liar and a coward, he will regain his crown by any means necessary.

Bremer dan Gorst: a master swordsman, a failed bodyguard, his honor will be restored - in the blood of his enemies.

Over three days, their fates will be sealed."

I never did finish the First Law trilogy, though I still mean to, and while I'll admit to having had a few issues with Best Served Cold - you can read more those in The Speculative Scotsman's review here - to say I'm looking forward to Joe's next novel doesn't quite do my anticipation justice. Three primary characters and three days; from that brief tidbit alone it seems likely that The Heroes will have the focus and precision that I found lacking in Best Served Cold.

Of course, the blood, the guts, the grim and glorious - I don't doubt all that'll be present and correct in The Heroes, too. This is a new Joe Abercrombie novel we're talking about here!

Lauren, the darling, was also good enough to reveal the current state of its cover art:

Gorgeous... well, that wouldn't be the word to describe the Steve Stone art reflected in the spatters of blood which will adorn the US edition of The Heroes come March next year, but at the least I appreciate that in a general sense it matches the rather controversial Stateside cover of Best Served Cold. It's worth noting that the map in the background is only placeholder until the artist finishes his geographical rendition of the latest fantasy kingdom to emerge from Joe's imagination.

I'll be very interested to see what we can look forward to here in the UK in terms of cover art. Expect an installment of Cover Identity on that very subject forthwith!

It's still a year away - so long to wait! - but between the blurb and the cover art, you can count The Speculative Scotsman good and psyched for The Heroes' eventual release.

In the interim, perhaps I'll finally finish The First Law. Is it worth my time, readers? Bear in mind I've only read the first book in the trilogy, and though I found Best Served Cold a bit of a slog at times, by the time I turned the last page I'd enjoyed the hell out of it.

Book Review: Tome of the Undergates by Sam Sykes

[Buy this book on
Amazon in the UK]

"Lenk can barely keep control of his mismatched adventurer band at the best of times: Gariath the dragon man sees humans as little more than prey, Kataria the shict despises most humans and the humans in the band are little better. When they're not insulting each other's religions, they're arguing about pay and conditions, so when the ship the gang are travelling on is attacked by pirates, things don't go well. They go a whole lot worse when an invincible demon joins the fray.

"The demon steals the fabled Tome of the Undergates - a manuscript containing all a body would need to open the undergates. And whichever god you believe in, you don't want the undergates open. On the other side are an array of additional, equally impervious demons; the manifestation of all the evil of the gods. And the Gods, well... they want out."

***

Tome of the Undergates is a behemoth of a book. At upwards of 600 pages, it's the sort of novel you could use to handily beat a man to death - and there's plenty of death herein, not to mention torture, dismemberment, crotch-stomping; I could go on. That said, with Tome of the Undergates, Sam Sykes - hot tip for the most promising new voice in fantasy fiction since Joe Abercrombie - hits the ground running at a pace more befitting the entrants of a short sprint than the half-marathon of his impressive debut.

When the Riptide is boarded by an army of menacing Cragsmen, there's little time for formal introductions to Lenk and the miserable band of misbegotten adventurers who will shortly follow him to the end of the world in search of an apocalyptic book. But there's time enough for some serious violence; there's at least one death in every chapter, alternately grim or comical. And there's time, too, for some witty banter between the fellowship of miscreants; the better to get to know an initially intimidating line-up of characters whose lives are on the line as the pirates attack.

They're a traditional lot, for the most part, the likes of which you'll be familiar with from countless decades of fantasy fiction, and sadly the first 100 pages of Tome of the Undergates doesn't do much to dissuade that suspicion. Sykes perhaps take too much on too soon: beginning his debut in full swing with an extended, high-tension battle is a great idea in concept, but in practice, as per the opening of Tome of the Undergates, the fight has worn out its welcome long before the last killing blow is struck. Add to that already-crowded introduction the worldbuilding Skyes endeavours to begin and intially, the apparently revolving door of characters he ushers in all fall rather... flat.

Save for some choice moments of murderous madness and the first flush of an impossible romance between the novel's hillariously diminutive hero and Kataria, a filthy Shict with more than a passing fondness for flatulence, Tome of the Undergates can seem a hollow reading experience for the first while, not despite the break-neck pace but perhaps, in part, because of it.

Before the great battle's over and done, though, a game-changing Lovecraftian horror descends into the chaos of the collision on the high seas: with the Abysmyth, in all its "emaciated, ebon-skinned splendour," Sykes hits his stride, setting the tone for the larger part of his debut that remains. Tome of the Undergates shortly becomes something like The Island of Dr. Moreau with hellish demons standing in for the evolutionary monstrosities of that latter novel's mad scientist.

And the Abysmyth is only the beginning. In their pursuit of the titular manuscript, Lenk and his lot are shortly tormented by a host of other unspeakable creatures. From Omens, bulbous bird-like beasts who parrot the voices of the dead, to dreadful Deepshrieks, skin-crawling Longfaces and on, Skyes conjures into existence a ghastly assortment of fauna with which to menace his foul-mouthed fellowship. They are the fantastic equivalent of an Inferno that Dante himself would be proud of - that is, were he not too busy spinning in his grave over the video game his likeness is busy starring in.

When they've room to breathe, the cast easily overcome the meek expectations the opening of Tome of the Undergates will leave readers with. Lenk is a long way from the untouchable hero of so many novels of the genre. He is, in fact, second-guessed at every stage by a darker personality than even his own that questions every action, every word with an almost schizophrenic persistence. Kataria, meanwhile, is plagued by her Shictish heritage - the words of her father come often to her, berating her for her decision to take up with a crew of low-down, dirty humans.

Gradually, Sykes reveals the origins of Daemos the rogue, the dragonman Gariath, Asper the healer and, in time, the other adventurers to accompany Lenk on his hell-bent quest; it doesn't take long for any fleeting impression of their shallowness to fall away. Superficially speaking, there may be little to seperate them from your usual assortment of fantasy folk, but Sykes renders each member of Lenk's party distinctly enough - through internal monologues and unique conflicts - that they quickly overcome and in some cases quite subvert the traditional tropes genre fans might anticipate.

Violence is far from in short supply throughout Tome of the Undergates, and there's also occasion for intrigue, conspiracy and, of course, adventure, but the most definitive characteristic of Sykes' debut is certainly its sense of humour. For every question, there's a witty retort waiting in the wings; for every seemingly imperfect turn of phrase, a sense of self-awareness to diminish it. Whales fart - not to mention Lenk's love interest - and dragonmen gallavant about in kilts.

At times, the comedy perhaps robs Tome of the Undergates of the profundity it should have strived for instead; there are lengthy chats in the midst of pivotal battles at the outset and the climax of the novel that rather detract from the impression of immediacy that such sequences would be the better for. But at its best, which is to say for the most part of Tome of the Undergates, Sykes' amusing exposition and endlessly cutting dialogue elevates his debut to a height not dissimilar to that his closest contemporary scaled in The First Law trilogy.

In the end, Tome of the Undergates doesn't put its best foot forward with its opening sequence, and it falters from time to time thereafter, but from the moment the Abysmyth claws its way onto the Riptide, things get very good, very quickly. This much-hyped first novel is an incredibly confident piece of work, and ultimately, Sam Sykes has good reason to be so full of himself. Fast, furious, funny and brilliantly filthy, Tome of the Undergates is one of the best fantasy debuts of 2010 from the most morbidly entertaining new voice in the genre since Joe Abercrombie - no shit.

***

Tome of the Undergates

by Sam Sykes

April 2010, Gollancz

[Buy this book on
Amazon in the UK]

Recommended and Related Reading

How We Read: An Addendum

As if they've anything left to prove, the incredible community that's built up around SF&F in fiction and in film last week wowed this humble blogger with their considered response to the first feature to grace the front page of The Speculative Scotsman. There's another such article in the works, never fear, and I'm as excited as all get-out about this one, too, though I'm keeping the details close to my chest for now.

In the meantime, I thought it would be a fine idea to highlight the best of the comments and responses to Had We Worlds Enough and Time in a post of their very own. TS was first to answer the question I'd posed - how do you read?

"These days I'm also a slow reader.

"The start of the book is usually the slowest going. I'll read a chapter or two, set the book aside until tomorrow. Somewhere in the middle, I'll speed up because I'm more invested in the story. Usually 1/4 to the end I'll be sitting in the near dark late at night only moving because otherwise I'll get a cramp."

I find myself in almost complete agreement with this reader. Starting out with a new novel is always the hardest part, but the further along the road I get, the more I'm drawn in, the easier I find it to ignore all the other things I could and very likely should be doing to keep reading into the wee hours.

ediFanoB of Only The Best Sci-Fi/Fantasy has some sage advice, too:

"Every month I put together a list of books I want to read. Mostly six books... Normally I try to find three hours per day for reading. Sometimes it is difficult due to my work."

The Speculative Scotsman could certainly learn a thing or two from this suggestion. I've always got a pile of books I mean to read, not least because of the review copies that are now trickling in day by day, and I do try to dedicate a couple of hours each day to whatever I'm reading at the moment, but as ediFanoB says, it can sometimes be difficult; real life often picks the least opportune moments to intervene while you're in the middle of a great story. Nonetheless, a bit of self-regulation could do me the world of good.

Meanwhile, the lovely Amanda of Floor-to-Ceiling Books had this to say:

"I skim read, I guess... I want to read as much as possible, but it does mean that as little as days after I've finished a book I can only remember sketchy details. The positive is that I can pick up a book for a second and third time and read it again with as much enjoyment - not remembering some of the little plot twists - and each time picking out some new detail I missed the first time."

Now I'd dispute that 90 books a year is "slow" reading by any stretch - last year I managed through perhaps 40 novels - but Amanda makes some excellent points. When the last issue of Granta arrived, with an ad for Paul Auster's Invisible, it took a few long minutes before I realised I'd already read it in a single sitting just months ago. Great book, by the way... I think.

The great Mark Charon Newton - author of Nights of Viljamur and the forthcoming City of Ruin - stopped by to offer his $0.02 as well:

"There seems to be a culture these days to read as many books as possible, which I don't think does the reader or the writer any justice... I must say, the writing eats up a good deal of what used to be reading time. And the internet eats away at a lot too, which I'm trying to control (not easy when you're watching any debate)."

Which reminds me of a lamentable by-product of all this blogging. One thing I've damn near stopped doing since launching The Speculative Scotsman is writing my own fiction. I really must get back to a few shorts I'd begun before the new year before my inspiration is lost to the ether, but making my presence felt in a blogosphere that was ticking over just fine without TSS has taken precedence in January. I regret nothing!

But Mark, I think I speak for the entire community when I say, if other books interfere with the progress of Legends of the Red Sun: stop reading, man, and get on with that next book! :P

Bryce of Seak's Stamp of Approval and another Mark, this one from the excellent Walker of Worlds blog, seem to agree that the style of the novel you're currently devouring has as much to with how we read as anything else. As Mark Chitty puts it:

"It all depends for me, if it's a book that I've been waiting for and the prose is to my taste then I can devour a book in a day or two. If it's done in a style that I struggle with then it will take anywhere up to a couple of weeks, or longer."

I'd agree wholeheartedly. You can read the TSS review of Best Served Cold here for a more thorough explanation of my feelings about Joe Abercrombie's relentless revenge fantasy, but suffice it to say I spent something like 10 days reading that, while managing through three admittedly shorter books in the week since. I would add, however, that I tend to be rather intimidated by longer novels, and that surely affects my own drive to read.

Mark also developed his point of view on the questions raised by Had We Worlds Enough and Time did with a post on his own blog, which I'd recommend you catch up on via this link and duly get involved in the conversation - if you haven't already, that is.

I'm going to conclude this addendum with a response from Black_Dog_Diary, who has no site that I can pimp for what will become obvious reasons. I think her comment represents a perspective that few of us in the blogosphere take proper account of:

"I used to read prolifically, but... now I have a life with 2 boys under 5 and a full time paid job & another full time unpaid job, being wife & mother. At the end of each day I am, frankly, spent. I have a pile of books by the bed, and probably 2 nights a week I return to the latest read before falling asleep. I arrange the pillows, get comfortable and read until I find myself backtracking & re-reading sentences & paragraphs because I was too tired to get the gist of what was trying to be expressed."

Often, it's not that the desire to read has faded in any sense, only the opportunity to. In some (selfish) ways, I dread the day my other half comes through with The News, not because it wouldn't be wonderful - truly, it would be; what more worthwhile pursuit is there in our meager existences than making new life? - but because it would mean I'd necessarily have less time to indulge myself in the books I love so much.

Then again, a baby would be something to love immeasurably more than even a new China Mieville. And I could read to it, couldn't I?

It's been a pleasure to add even such a small thing to the great conversation taking place amongst the lovely SF&F community, and it wouldn't be possible without you, dear readers. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and respond to The Speculative Scotsman's first feature post - those of you who didn't make it into this addendum equally as much as those of you whose comments did.

Book Review: Best Served Cold by Joe Abercrombie

[Buy this book from Amazon

in the UK / in the US]

"Springtime in Styria. And that means war.

"There have been nineteen years of blood. The ruthless Grand Duke Orso is locked in a vicious struggle with the squabbling League of Eight, and between them they have bled the land white. While armies march, heads roll and cities burn, behind the scenes bankers, priests and older, darker powers play a deadly game to choose who will be king. War may be hell but for Monza Murcatto, the Snake of Talins, the most feared and famous mercenary in Duke Orso's employ, it's a damn good way of making money too. Her victories have made her popular - a shade too popular for her employer's taste.

"Betrayed, thrown down a mountain and left for dead, Murcatto's reward is a broken body and a burning hunger for vengeance. Whatever the cost, seven men must die. Her allies include Styria's least reliable drunkard, Styria's most treacherous poisoner, a mass-murderer obsessed with numbers and a Northman who just wants to do the right thing. Her enemies number the better half of the nation. And that's all before the most dangerous man in the world is dispatched to hunt her down and finish the job Duke Orso started...

"Springtime in Styria. And that means revenge."

***

With Best Served Cold, Joe Abercrombie returns to the unpretentious fantasy world he mined so memorably in the three books of The First Law, but it seems the myriad threads and perspectives of that subversive narrative are old news to the filthiest, most bloody-minded writer Britain has spat out in decades. His latest is a single-minded, standalone cycle of betrayal and revenge that careens headlong towards a conclusion that befits the mounting trail of death and destruction its protagonist leaves in her wake.

The Years of Blood have left Styria divided. The once-great nation's most powerful forces have been at war with one another for decades, but for the first time, an end to the bloodshed and battery is in sight. With the army-for-hire of the Thousand Swords at his every beck and call, Grand Duke Orso has come within a hair's breadth of seizing control of the devastated kingdom. One last push is all it will take, and the tying up of a few loose ends.

Among the loose ends is Monzcarro Murcatto, captain of the mercenary forces which have won the day for the Duke time and again. A hero without match to some, a ruthless villain to others, Monza's sway over the people of Talins has left her an unwitting threat to Orso's intended dominion. Thus, the Duke and his inner circle take steps to have her removed from the picture. Her brother Benna is slaughtered before her eyes; Monza, meanwhile, is stabbed, slit open and thrown from atop the palace's tallest tower.

But she survives. And before she can even begin to heal, far less to mourn her terrible loss, she has sworn vengeance on the Duke and the six of his sons and associates who played a part in his betrayal. Monza may be broken, beaten and scarred from head to toe, but seven men must die; seven men without whom the ravaged landscape of Styria will never be the same.

Inevitably, the death toll amounts to considerably more than that. Best Served Cold is, after all, a book by Joe Abercrombie, which - if you're not already familiar with his, ahem, body of work - you can take to mean heads, not to mention a veritable miscellany of other limbs and digits, will spend more time rolling than in their naturally appointed place. Best Served Cold is, let me be quite clear, an incredibly violent novel: bitter, twisted and dark beyond imagining.

Curiously, perhaps, it is also a very funny novel. Abercrombie's acerbic sense of humour permeates the text at the least appropriate moments possible, and it's as well; without the occasional chuckle to bring a little levity to the grim proceedings, Best Served Cold would likely leave its readers in a dismal state indeed. The relentlessness of Monza's lengthy, murderous quest is apt, eventually, to punch through the defenses of even the most optimistic speculative sorts.

One cold-blooded killing follows another, and for a while, the wanton carnage seems to come a little too easily to Monza and company. I'll swallow the notion that she has connections everywhere; an undwindling chest of some secret stash of gold from her days with the Thousand Swords is more of a stretch, but sure; it beggars belief, however, that her return trip down from Grand Duke Orso's tower doesn't seem to have left her much the worse for wear, physically speaking, short of a few war-wounds and a stiff pinky finger. Though there are ample reminders of Monza's motivations, it becomes increasingly difficult to identity either with her or the motley lot she recruits to her cause.

In fact, it's only at the halfway point - and mark my words, Best Served Cold will be a beast of a paperback - that readers are granted any real insight into the protagonist's disturbed psyche. It's all business from the outset, and what visceral business it is. There's something to be said, certainly, some added value to be had from thrusting readers right into the thick of the action, but all work and no play leaves precious little room for Monza and her unlikely band of brothers to breathe as characters. Until the troupe arrives in Visserine and their best-laid plans begin to unravel, Friendly alone, an oddball ex-convict with a passion for mathematics matched only by his prowess with a blade, seems fleshed out enough to be in any sense sympathetic.

Monza's harrowing hunt never quite takes a backseat, but persistence is pivotal: Best Served Cold is at its bloody best when the cost of all the killing finally catches up with its cast. From that point on, Abercrombie's visceral fantasy lurches to life like a corpse long consigned to oblivion suddenly reanimated and stuck full of uppers. The stakes are raised, the pace picks up, tensions escalate to breaking point and of course, the body count increases exponentially. If the relative tedium of the first handful of chapters doesn't break your spirit, a brilliantly brutal climax awaits. The long journey chronicled in Best Served Cold isn't an easy one, neither for readers nor the anti-heroes at its pounding black heart, but late in the game, Abercombie's return to Styria reveals itself as an epic and exciting revenge thriller utterly true to its own unflinching, if unconventional moral code.

***

Best Served Cold

by Joe Abercrombie

2009, Gollancz: London

[Buy this book from Amazon

in the UK / in the US]

Recommended and Related Reading

Quick Book: Best Served Cold by Joe Abercombie

If the myriad of year-end and best of the decade lists published by my fellow bloggers taught me anything, it was that Joe Abercrombie's standalone pseudo-sequel to The First Law trilogy is an incredibly divisive entity. Second only to The Magicians by Lev Grossman, readers either reveled in the experience of Best Served Cold, or were left... well, cold by it.

200 pages in, I can't yet say with any certainty which of those camps The Speculative Scotsman will ultimately fall into, if indeed it can only be a love-it or hate-it kind of thing. There are moments of brilliance peppered throughout what I've read: quick and dirty action scenes with immediately brutal consequences; a couple of characters that genuinely intrigue me, Friendly the borderline autistic soldier above all others; and a sense of humour black as the night sky throughout.

Foolishly, perhaps, I hadn't thought to wonder what the title of Abercrombie's latest novel might entail until I sat down with Best Served Cold and read through the opening chapters. After a prologue in which her brother is slain and the protagonist herself barely survives, Monza assembles a reluctant band of thugs to aid in her single, searing purpose: the murder of the seven people she deems responsible for the bloody betrayal which was Benna's end.

Santa's Sack and the Speculative Scotsman

Is it safe to say it yet?

Is it ever truly safe, one wonders...

But to hell with safety - I'll risk a visit from the dreaded Santa man and his wicked band of elves. Step back, now: I'm going call it.

Christmas is... over!

It must be, surely; for one thing, I'm still alive, not to mention that the other half and I have taken down the festive decorations and resigned all the uneaten stocking treats to the recycling. The halls - we have two - no longer ring out with the same twenty Christmas songs playing on some horrific infinite shuffle.

That's quite enough grinching. It's been a hectic time, but then, it always is, and that's half the fun of it. Every day a new experience, or a familiar one from your youth or your adolescence, experienced anew. For one, I had a great time, and I hope you did too, reader, but I don't doubt we're all glad it's over. At least till next year.

In between all the last minute gift giving and the exhausting rotation of visits to friends and relatives, however, this past Christmas has also been a particularly productive one. After all of a week's worth of thinking, and latterly even a bit of planning, The Speculative Scotsman finally launched.

I've been meaning to chime in with the blogosphere for some time now, and the community surrounding speculative fiction in all its forms is nearly unrivalled across all the highways and byways of the internet, where there's a forum for every last ridiculous thing you can imagine and at least one daft fan to fill its pages. TSS aspires to greater things, of course. It need not be your one-stop shop for every sliver of knowledge and commentary about all your particular interests, but it will be reliable, it will be informative, and it will, I hope, be above all else entertaining.

So. With Christmas officially in the can for another twelve months, now that I've got time to think, I thought - I did - that it might be time to go through a select few of the more thoughtful gifts given to The Speculative Scotsman on the day of the baby Jesus.