There's dragons in them hills, I tell you

The Hurog Duology, by Patricia Briggs:
Dragon Bones
Dragon Blood

These books were my first introduction to Briggs, and I enjoyed them very much. While the overall plot arc of the two books isn’t particularly original and the setting is your pretty standard generic feudal Europe, the writing is good, the characters are interesting, there are some interesting variations on the theme of the young hero on a quest to claim his throne and, well, there are dragons and some kick-ass women, especially in the second book.

The main character is Ward, oldest son of the lord of Hurog. At the beginning of the first book, we see a family that has been corroded from within – a violent father, a mother who has retreated into something near to melancholic madness, a mute daughter, a runaway younger son, missing for two years and presumed dead, and Ward, so badly abused by his father that his injuries have almost destroyed his gifts as a mage, and have led him to play the simpleton for seven years to avoid more of his father’s brutality. We also sense in the details of life in Hurog that there is something wrong in the land itself, that the corruption in the family of the lords of Hurog may be tied to something greater and wider-reaching.

Then Ward’s father dies in a hunting accident. Having played the fool for so long, Ward’s right to hold the lordship of Hurog is in doubt, and his uncle is given control until he comes of age. Enter several interesting plot threads having to do with politics in the larger kingdom of which Hurog is a part, and a mysterious cousin who comes to Ward’s aid, but who is clearly not what he claims to be, and suddenly we’re off on a quite absorbing adventure.

The first novel ends with Ward succeeding in claiming his lordship (this is hardly a spoiler, is it?), but with a great many unanswered questions about the state of the kingdom itself, which lead us into a new quest in the second volume, as Ward, having proven himself, must come to the assistance of former allies and a prince who has been dispossessed of his kingdom much as Ward had been dispossessed of his lordship.

For the easily triggered, I should note that here is realistic sexual and physical violence in these books that goes beyond the typical sword-hacking. I think it’s important to the story, and not gratuitous, but it’s not pleasant reading the relevant sections.

News Flash: Aztec warriors at the seige of Leningrad

Atomik Aztex, Sesshu Foster

This book is a total mindfuck, and that’s a good thing. I simply could not get it out of my mind while I was reading it, and scenes keep coming back to jeer at me, asking me if I really think I figured it all out.

It’s a tale of two worlds, one of which is a brutal slice of life for a Latino worker in the meatpacking industry in Los Angeles sometime in the last half of the 20th century, and the other of which is the war diary of an warrior priest in an alternate universe in which the Spanish got their heads handed to them when they tried to invade Central America, and the great and powerful and bloodily metaphysical Aztec Nation is allied with Russia to defeat Germany during WWII.

Oh, yeah, the warrior-priest and the meatpacking plant worker are the same person, Zenzontli/Zenzon, shifting back and forth between possible universes. Or possibly the two are potential, alternate personalities, whose reality depends on whether you think the Spanish defeated the Aztec, or whether it's the other way around. At the beginning of the novel, you can usually tell which universe he’s in by the variant orthography being used, but toward the end of the novel, the differences between the orthographies of the two different worlds/timelines begin to merge.

The more realistic narrative thread is, among other things, a searing indictment of the meatpacking industry and an expose of the difficulties workers face in attempting to organise - which leads me to consider to what degree the dual storylines may be a literary response to Upton Sinclair's rainforest and survival of the fittest metaphors in his indictment of the meatpacking industry, The Jungle. Certainly there are some similar plot and thematic elements, especially the focus on labour union, and Zenzon, like Sinclair's hero Jurgis Rudkus, is an immigrant (from Central America rather than Lithuania), and an unusually strong man with a powerful work ethic.

But what are we to think of the alternate history plotline? Is it Sinclair's Jungle, where corruption and capitalism (and there is certainly corruption galore in the Aztec Empire Foster portrays) make it almost impossible for an honest, hard-working man to succeed? The Aztec Empire's power is magical, built on the harvesting of human hearts (another kind of slaughterhouse), and it is to this end that the Aztec Warriors engage in the defence of Stalingrad - to begin the colonisation of Europe as a new source of sacrifices to the Empire. Zenzontli is a dealer in European slaves. Does Foster intend to suggest that it doesn't matter who won, that capitalism and empire inevitably lead to corruption, colonialism and exploitation?

I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure what I’ve taken from the book, but I’m very glad I read it. If you’re interested in a collection of more coherent comments, read this.