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emrysmerlyn's review
4.0
“He and his friends are nothing but empty shells. They have such easy lives, so they have the luxury of not needing convictions. Society has taken care of them fine, so they can live just talking about whatever new idea some horseshit philosopher has come up with, without ever having the misfortune of seeing how their ‘fun little ideas’ can impact real people.” (Gerrika is my boy and I am glad he gets a chance to Go Off)
One thing that this series has done exceptionally well is craft a world where philosophy inhabits a place more typically held by religion. This creates a really interesting outlook for the way characters and political figures interact with the world. I thought it was unusual and really neat. (Though occasionally I was exasperated when Dreden or one of his friends decided to take a break from an intense or life-threatening emergency to moon over the true meaning of something instead)
After reading this second volume of A Fantastic Decade, I feel even more strongly that the two halves of the story work better as a unit than as stand alone novels. (Although, now that both halves are available, do yourself a favor and read them together!) The buildup for the climax begins to hit its stride around the halfway mark in this volume, which is an unusual beat to try and sustain for half a book, but taking the first book into consideration, would put it just past the 3/4 mark if this were a single novel, a more standard pacing choice.
There is some good character work here! Morell is a jerk, and certainly isn’t in a position to tell someone they should be kinder to the people around them, but man I was shocked to see how good he is at calling Dreden on his behavior, especially the way Dreden acts towards Gerrika and Chanin. (Morell is the embodiment of that one meme “Heartbreaking: The Worst Person You Know Just Made A Great Point.”) Dreden actually learns to be a better friend and maybe even a better person as a result of his brief disasterous fling with Morell Edlund.
I am a little concerned about the early parts of the book, where Mick Jowns’ terrible deeds were seemingly conflated with his disability, as though his physical appearance was a reflection of his soul. He walks with a cane because one of his legs is shorter than the other, and somehow even his own mother can’t seem to dismiss this physical marker as a reflection of, or perhaps reason for, his hatred and disregard for others. I think that the analogy treads a little too close to ableism for comfort, falling further from the idea that Jowns is a villain who has a disability and landing closer to the implication that Jowns is a villain because of his disability. And Jowns is a frightening villain. Hearing a child who literally just murdered someone say “I don’t believe in murder, and neither would you if not for your religion” —as if he was having a nice and calm philosophical discussion—was straight up chilling. Upon learning Jowns was a genocidal eugenicist, Dreden’s first act is to launch into a thought experiment about how and why not *everything* Jowns thought was wrong, which sort of exemplifies Dreden’s absolute worst qualities—someone needs to learn when playing devil’s advocate is inappropriate.
Anyways, this was a fun read and a satisfying conclusion to the story. I’d have happily seen more on Minkompa, Cipre, the Maker, and the Unmaker, but I am particularly happy with they way their storylines played out.
“You can argue that you should just go out and live your life, since you’re young and it is indeed your life, but no one’s life is ever just their own. It belongs to everyone they know. It’s an awful condemnation, but it’s true.”
Content warning for fairly intense discussions of suicide and suicidal ideation.
One thing that this series has done exceptionally well is craft a world where philosophy inhabits a place more typically held by religion. This creates a really interesting outlook for the way characters and political figures interact with the world. I thought it was unusual and really neat. (Though occasionally I was exasperated when Dreden or one of his friends decided to take a break from an intense or life-threatening emergency to moon over the true meaning of something instead)
After reading this second volume of A Fantastic Decade, I feel even more strongly that the two halves of the story work better as a unit than as stand alone novels. (Although, now that both halves are available, do yourself a favor and read them together!) The buildup for the climax begins to hit its stride around the halfway mark in this volume, which is an unusual beat to try and sustain for half a book, but taking the first book into consideration, would put it just past the 3/4 mark if this were a single novel, a more standard pacing choice.
There is some good character work here! Morell is a jerk, and certainly isn’t in a position to tell someone they should be kinder to the people around them, but man I was shocked to see how good he is at calling Dreden on his behavior, especially the way Dreden acts towards Gerrika and Chanin. (Morell is the embodiment of that one meme “Heartbreaking: The Worst Person You Know Just Made A Great Point.”) Dreden actually learns to be a better friend and maybe even a better person as a result of his brief disasterous fling with Morell Edlund.
I am a little concerned about the early parts of the book, where Mick Jowns’ terrible deeds were seemingly conflated with his disability, as though his physical appearance was a reflection of his soul. He walks with a cane because one of his legs is shorter than the other, and somehow even his own mother can’t seem to dismiss this physical marker as a reflection of, or perhaps reason for, his hatred and disregard for others. I think that the analogy treads a little too close to ableism for comfort, falling further from the idea that Jowns is a villain who has a disability and landing closer to the implication that Jowns is a villain because of his disability. And Jowns is a frightening villain. Hearing a child who literally just murdered someone say “I don’t believe in murder, and neither would you if not for your religion” —as if he was having a nice and calm philosophical discussion—was straight up chilling. Upon learning Jowns was a genocidal eugenicist, Dreden’s first act is to launch into a thought experiment about how and why not *everything* Jowns thought was wrong, which sort of exemplifies Dreden’s absolute worst qualities—someone needs to learn when playing devil’s advocate is inappropriate.
Anyways, this was a fun read and a satisfying conclusion to the story. I’d have happily seen more on Minkompa, Cipre, the Maker, and the Unmaker, but I am particularly happy with they way their storylines played out.
“You can argue that you should just go out and live your life, since you’re young and it is indeed your life, but no one’s life is ever just their own. It belongs to everyone they know. It’s an awful condemnation, but it’s true.”
Content warning for fairly intense discussions of suicide and suicidal ideation.
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