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Lark Case Files #1
Black City
The City is rife with cults, covens and cabals.
Broken-glass curses and occult rites in the back of bars.
Magical symbols written in whisky and cigarette smoke.
Ritual muggings and street-rat divination.
Two cults have gone to war and unleashed something that doesn't belong here.
Something old and wicked.
Something that has found itself an apostle; a girl who spreads black magic across the city with graffiti she barely understands, unwittingly placing a curse on the entire town.
Enter Lark.He used to police these kinds of wars for the Library, the biggest coven in town. But that was long ago, before he fell from favour.
Now he works the fringes, selling his services for pocket-change and knowledge.
So when the new head of the Library, his ex-girlfriend Scarlet, approaches him to investigate these new conflicts, all he sees is a payday and an opportunity to prove himself to her again.
Broken-glass curses and occult rites in the back of bars.
Magical symbols written in whisky and cigarette smoke.
Ritual muggings and street-rat divination.
Two cults have gone to war and unleashed something that doesn't belong here.
Something old and wicked.
Something that has found itself an apostle; a girl who spreads black magic across the city with graffiti she barely understands, unwittingly placing a curse on the entire town.
Enter Lark.He used to police these kinds of wars for the Library, the biggest coven in town. But that was long ago, before he fell from favour.
Now he works the fringes, selling his services for pocket-change and knowledge.
So when the new head of the Library, his ex-girlfriend Scarlet, approaches him to investigate these new conflicts, all he sees is a payday and an opportunity to prove himself to her again.
311 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 23, 2013
41 people want to read
About the author
Christian Read
37 books14 followersI'm Christian Read.
I've written a few novels, a few comics and a few video games.
I enjoy whisky.
I've written a few novels, a few comics and a few video games.
I enjoy whisky.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
July 21, 2016
While reading Black City - almost voraciously enough to warrant watching over a webcam - I couldn't shake from my mind a set of twinned Tom Waits songs: We're All Mad Here and Everything You Can Think of is True. I was initially slow to the realization that, despite major musical differences, they are in fact the same song; the same sets of creepy,carnivorous and carnivalesque stories and images, just seen from two different sides of the mirror. Like those songs Black City is a book both familiar and strangely new; the same but so, so different. The most evident example of this has to be that it's published by Gestalt, Australia's self-proclaimed 'premier graphic novel publishing house' - a title to which I can only attest - but it's a prose piece; as in without pictures, as in only words.
It's made instantly apparent by all of those words that the book's author, Christian Read, brings with him a radical new voice; his writing brisk and irreverent but ironclad in its intelligence and poetry. With those words, and in that voice he tells a horror story that is more often than not hilarious. It's a tale that has been told many, many times before - tropic in its topics and more than half homage - but because of the temperament which which he tells it the resulting read is like nothing else you've experienced. Around that story the words build a world, one in which every kind of magic ever seen in a story exists, but its wielded in ways we havn't seen before: the supernatural stuff seeping into street violence, through the arts ( literary, visual and ... culinary) and even effecting economics. Black City then is both a book and a place wherein everything you can think of us true; even, fittingly, that mythological creature known as Tom Waits.
Books aren't windows to wonderful worlds inside your head. They're the hilts and triggers to weapons, they're snares to secrets and whispered conspiracies. Books are the most dangerous things in the world...
Given their proven track record and stable of stunning artists it is initially a bit surprising that Gestalt would have received this pitch from Read and released it as a novel; based on its concept Black City would seemingly have sat nicely next to Torn, Unmasked or The Eldritch Kid on the shelf. It's also something of a risk because here, in Ebook form, Read has nothing to hide behind: none of Gestalt's trademark publishing prowess ( only Archaia can compete in terms of print quality) or the potency of a good painted panel to disguise or distract from his dialogue, his storytelling. It was a risk well worth taking though because a comic simply couldn't contain this many words and as prose writer Read really understands the power of words.
There is that critical cliche that a stories setting can really become a character within it; while that is certainly true of this book's anonymous, atrophying cityscape the saying applies more to its words. Here characters are literally characters and language the lifeblood of both good guys and bad; its a tale about text. More literally though it's a merger of gaudy old-world occult tales - like Maughm's The Magician or Lovecraft's [Anything] - with the more modern grit of urban ganglands: in this town, the titular Black City, you wear the colours of your cult, you deal enchanted crack and splay your coat to hock counterfeit artifacts whose magic, like an unreal Rolex, will keep ticking just long enough for the dealer to get out of town and you to get into trouble. Magic doesn't change society in the city, it just makes it more dramatic.
The right book bites you, seduces and tattoos you.
Read's writing style is pulpy in the best possible sense of the term; which is to say not shallow or simple, but pointed. His phrases are heavily punctuated, a ful stop every few words, so you swallow them by the handful with a rapid, rabid rhythm; and split into paragraphs only several sentences long the pages of this book fly by just as fast. The form of Read's prose obviously very functional beneath the hard-boiled poetics of its facade; so that it becomes near impossible to put the book down once you've begun, each end of chapter tempting you to come back for just one more. The combination of noir narcissism, wordplay wit and a well-indexed imagination that Read's narratorial voice conveys leads a lot of these lines to kill: comedic, chilling and oh so cool. Their structuring though is sometimes so unstressed that the odd sentence will come across as clunky, or a line of dialogue will be only ambiguously attached to its character for the sake of spiking pace but these flops are few and far between; the book's overall hit:miss ratio making the choice of distinctive voice an easy one.
Though it is written in short sentences Black City has no shortage of large ideas. The city has a whole, sordid history to it that unfolds slowly before us; past bloodshed's blooming an thickening. As he did in The Eldritch Kid Christian Read creates concepts worthy of complete stories and tosses them out as asides, as single stitches in the dark tapestry that is Black City. This approach lends the novel a meaty richness that it could otherwise have lacked, but it also means that sometimes the tale lacks clear direction, that its focus is somewhat askew. These sections that leapt from the perspective of our protagonist Lark to that of other, tertiary characters were not as well distinguished as I feel they could have been; the novel's voice too consistent to legitimize the change in perspective. Simply having a strong, singular voice is almost too much to expect of a debut author, so asking for several is an insane standard; my issue then is mostly a structural one. Traditionally pulp thrillers are linear accelerations but Black City loops, slows and doubles back, almost rhyzomatic in shape.
"Come on. I'll show you the ways a Magician can make money in this town."
Though it is to be expected of a noir the plot that begins as a simple investigation grows more and more complex as it progresses, with conspiracy stacking on conspiracy; the cops, the robbers and civilians all creating chaos for the PI in the middle of the mess. It's a tried and true approach but combined with magic it becomes something of a harder structure to swallow; when the crimes and schemes are no longer restricted by the rules of our reality the levels of complexity become infinite an Christian has an imagination up to the task of depicting that. So even though there is plenty of time spent in those aforementioned asides establishing the laws of magic the logistics of certain actions are still lost in the fray. Fictional magic ( as opposed to what?) also has that unfortunate feeling of frictionlessness to it that can be hard to overcome; when one can simply wave away concerns with a few words consequences can become negligible; with great power comes no responsibility. Read does a decent job of dealing with this, by making magic hard and binding it to tenets of reality; here it is another sort of science. There are times though, towards the end especially, when he writes characters out of corners with the stuff in a way that didn't feel completely earned or necessary. Its spectacular enough, sure, but still something of an anti-climax.
So there are some flaws here, some fumbles, but they are in the scheme of things all very small ones. I devoured this book in under twenty-four hours without any effort or intention to rush through it; it's cliche but I simply couldn't put it down and that, I think, says more than the previous thousand words. Also telling is the fact that I'm already ready to go a second round and based on that ending it feels like Read is too; hedging his bets for a sequel and perhaps a whole series of city-set Lark stories. I truly hope that he does return to this world, which is already so fleshed-out and full of potential, because he has laid out the groundwork here for something truly special, something unique. Black City is then an origin story in two ways; both as as our introduction to an intriguing new author and as the first entry in what will hopefully be a franchise. In both cases its the most potent and exciting creation that i've come across in many years - cementing Christian's name alongside that of Warren Ellis - and with a bit of work, a slight finesse, a sequel can easily surpass that. I believe this and thus, it is true.
It's made instantly apparent by all of those words that the book's author, Christian Read, brings with him a radical new voice; his writing brisk and irreverent but ironclad in its intelligence and poetry. With those words, and in that voice he tells a horror story that is more often than not hilarious. It's a tale that has been told many, many times before - tropic in its topics and more than half homage - but because of the temperament which which he tells it the resulting read is like nothing else you've experienced. Around that story the words build a world, one in which every kind of magic ever seen in a story exists, but its wielded in ways we havn't seen before: the supernatural stuff seeping into street violence, through the arts ( literary, visual and ... culinary) and even effecting economics. Black City then is both a book and a place wherein everything you can think of us true; even, fittingly, that mythological creature known as Tom Waits.
Books aren't windows to wonderful worlds inside your head. They're the hilts and triggers to weapons, they're snares to secrets and whispered conspiracies. Books are the most dangerous things in the world...
Given their proven track record and stable of stunning artists it is initially a bit surprising that Gestalt would have received this pitch from Read and released it as a novel; based on its concept Black City would seemingly have sat nicely next to Torn, Unmasked or The Eldritch Kid on the shelf. It's also something of a risk because here, in Ebook form, Read has nothing to hide behind: none of Gestalt's trademark publishing prowess ( only Archaia can compete in terms of print quality) or the potency of a good painted panel to disguise or distract from his dialogue, his storytelling. It was a risk well worth taking though because a comic simply couldn't contain this many words and as prose writer Read really understands the power of words.
There is that critical cliche that a stories setting can really become a character within it; while that is certainly true of this book's anonymous, atrophying cityscape the saying applies more to its words. Here characters are literally characters and language the lifeblood of both good guys and bad; its a tale about text. More literally though it's a merger of gaudy old-world occult tales - like Maughm's The Magician or Lovecraft's [Anything] - with the more modern grit of urban ganglands: in this town, the titular Black City, you wear the colours of your cult, you deal enchanted crack and splay your coat to hock counterfeit artifacts whose magic, like an unreal Rolex, will keep ticking just long enough for the dealer to get out of town and you to get into trouble. Magic doesn't change society in the city, it just makes it more dramatic.
The right book bites you, seduces and tattoos you.
Read's writing style is pulpy in the best possible sense of the term; which is to say not shallow or simple, but pointed. His phrases are heavily punctuated, a ful stop every few words, so you swallow them by the handful with a rapid, rabid rhythm; and split into paragraphs only several sentences long the pages of this book fly by just as fast. The form of Read's prose obviously very functional beneath the hard-boiled poetics of its facade; so that it becomes near impossible to put the book down once you've begun, each end of chapter tempting you to come back for just one more. The combination of noir narcissism, wordplay wit and a well-indexed imagination that Read's narratorial voice conveys leads a lot of these lines to kill: comedic, chilling and oh so cool. Their structuring though is sometimes so unstressed that the odd sentence will come across as clunky, or a line of dialogue will be only ambiguously attached to its character for the sake of spiking pace but these flops are few and far between; the book's overall hit:miss ratio making the choice of distinctive voice an easy one.
Though it is written in short sentences Black City has no shortage of large ideas. The city has a whole, sordid history to it that unfolds slowly before us; past bloodshed's blooming an thickening. As he did in The Eldritch Kid Christian Read creates concepts worthy of complete stories and tosses them out as asides, as single stitches in the dark tapestry that is Black City. This approach lends the novel a meaty richness that it could otherwise have lacked, but it also means that sometimes the tale lacks clear direction, that its focus is somewhat askew. These sections that leapt from the perspective of our protagonist Lark to that of other, tertiary characters were not as well distinguished as I feel they could have been; the novel's voice too consistent to legitimize the change in perspective. Simply having a strong, singular voice is almost too much to expect of a debut author, so asking for several is an insane standard; my issue then is mostly a structural one. Traditionally pulp thrillers are linear accelerations but Black City loops, slows and doubles back, almost rhyzomatic in shape.
"Come on. I'll show you the ways a Magician can make money in this town."
Though it is to be expected of a noir the plot that begins as a simple investigation grows more and more complex as it progresses, with conspiracy stacking on conspiracy; the cops, the robbers and civilians all creating chaos for the PI in the middle of the mess. It's a tried and true approach but combined with magic it becomes something of a harder structure to swallow; when the crimes and schemes are no longer restricted by the rules of our reality the levels of complexity become infinite an Christian has an imagination up to the task of depicting that. So even though there is plenty of time spent in those aforementioned asides establishing the laws of magic the logistics of certain actions are still lost in the fray. Fictional magic ( as opposed to what?) also has that unfortunate feeling of frictionlessness to it that can be hard to overcome; when one can simply wave away concerns with a few words consequences can become negligible; with great power comes no responsibility. Read does a decent job of dealing with this, by making magic hard and binding it to tenets of reality; here it is another sort of science. There are times though, towards the end especially, when he writes characters out of corners with the stuff in a way that didn't feel completely earned or necessary. Its spectacular enough, sure, but still something of an anti-climax.
So there are some flaws here, some fumbles, but they are in the scheme of things all very small ones. I devoured this book in under twenty-four hours without any effort or intention to rush through it; it's cliche but I simply couldn't put it down and that, I think, says more than the previous thousand words. Also telling is the fact that I'm already ready to go a second round and based on that ending it feels like Read is too; hedging his bets for a sequel and perhaps a whole series of city-set Lark stories. I truly hope that he does return to this world, which is already so fleshed-out and full of potential, because he has laid out the groundwork here for something truly special, something unique. Black City is then an origin story in two ways; both as as our introduction to an intriguing new author and as the first entry in what will hopefully be a franchise. In both cases its the most potent and exciting creation that i've come across in many years - cementing Christian's name alongside that of Warren Ellis - and with a bit of work, a slight finesse, a sequel can easily surpass that. I believe this and thus, it is true.
June 12, 2013
I just ripped through this novel like a fever dream, one of the best urban fantasy novels I’ve read in a long time.
Black City follows Lark, a down-on-his-luck magician PI, reluctantly drawn into occult warfare by a beautiful dame. Something old and powerful gets into (or gets hold of) the wrong hands and suddenly Lark and his chola zombie sidekick Bettina are in the middle of an urban magical shitstorm.
At first you might think that Black City was essentially the “The Maltese Falcon” gone weird but this novel is much more than that. It appears that Mr Read is an occult historian with an irrepressible desire to educate as Black City is so filled with intricate and tantalising facts that you practically need a browser open while reading just so you can check out the further details. However, the hypnotising pace of the novel will often make you forget about the browser, computer, dinner on the stove and the outside world so it’s better to just highlight the curious bits and come back to them later.
The thing that I like the most about Black City is that it treats both the reader and the characters with respect. Each character is given a life and a certain amount of dignity. Their flaws are shown with a type of wry kindness and nobody is reduced to one-dimension in order to push a point or pull the plot along. Also, no crazy cult details are dumbed down for consumption, rather time is taken to educate the reader so they understand the significance of the fascinating names or rituals. Some times the novel reminded me of Umberto Eco at his most arcane.
I particularly like the ladies. While the main character, Lark, is male so much of the story winds around great female characters with atypical back stories and personalities. None of them are trivialised by their gender, made whiny and annoying by their insistence on independence then alternately requiring the services of a white knight (one of my least favourite fantasy character tropes). Rather they are the muscle, or arms dealers, or crazy graffiti artists. They do things for their own reasons and Lark respects them for it.
The writing style is purposefully pulpy consisting of short sharp sentences and a type of Humphrey Bogart cadence that works most of the time. Very occasionally the choppy sentences turn rogue and yoda-like so you’re left reading a paragraph 5 times trying to work out which bits pertain to what or whom but mostly the style works.
Anyway, I’m going to make myself a cup of tea and read it again because I’m pretty sure there are about one thousand details that I missed. I really, really hope this novel has a sequel.
Black City follows Lark, a down-on-his-luck magician PI, reluctantly drawn into occult warfare by a beautiful dame. Something old and powerful gets into (or gets hold of) the wrong hands and suddenly Lark and his chola zombie sidekick Bettina are in the middle of an urban magical shitstorm.
At first you might think that Black City was essentially the “The Maltese Falcon” gone weird but this novel is much more than that. It appears that Mr Read is an occult historian with an irrepressible desire to educate as Black City is so filled with intricate and tantalising facts that you practically need a browser open while reading just so you can check out the further details. However, the hypnotising pace of the novel will often make you forget about the browser, computer, dinner on the stove and the outside world so it’s better to just highlight the curious bits and come back to them later.
The thing that I like the most about Black City is that it treats both the reader and the characters with respect. Each character is given a life and a certain amount of dignity. Their flaws are shown with a type of wry kindness and nobody is reduced to one-dimension in order to push a point or pull the plot along. Also, no crazy cult details are dumbed down for consumption, rather time is taken to educate the reader so they understand the significance of the fascinating names or rituals. Some times the novel reminded me of Umberto Eco at his most arcane.
I particularly like the ladies. While the main character, Lark, is male so much of the story winds around great female characters with atypical back stories and personalities. None of them are trivialised by their gender, made whiny and annoying by their insistence on independence then alternately requiring the services of a white knight (one of my least favourite fantasy character tropes). Rather they are the muscle, or arms dealers, or crazy graffiti artists. They do things for their own reasons and Lark respects them for it.
The writing style is purposefully pulpy consisting of short sharp sentences and a type of Humphrey Bogart cadence that works most of the time. Very occasionally the choppy sentences turn rogue and yoda-like so you’re left reading a paragraph 5 times trying to work out which bits pertain to what or whom but mostly the style works.
Anyway, I’m going to make myself a cup of tea and read it again because I’m pretty sure there are about one thousand details that I missed. I really, really hope this novel has a sequel.
July 7, 2013
Brainycat's 5 "B"s:
boobs: 0
blood: 4
bombs; 1
bondage: 0
blasphemy: 4
MORE LIKE THIS PLEASE! I stayed up way past my bedtime to finish this book. It's fantastic. The plot is paced perfectly, the characterization is great and the world Mr. Read has created is magnificent. I saw a few nods to Charles Stross's Laundry Archives series - I believe readers who like the Laundry stories will appreciate this book too.
Mr. Read draws an abstract picture of the unnamed, generic city the story takes place in; his command of the language draws sparse and unobtrusive descriptions that I was able to fill in. The protagonist Lark is an anti-hero - which I always appreciate, and the antagonists and supporting characters are each drawn with depth and unique voices.
Magic, in this story, isn't defined as much as it's described. It's a function of discipline and will, and Mr. Read draws heavily from a number of traditions to enrich the world and edify the reader. Suffice to say that while the plot is entirely driven by magic, this is not some wishy-washy fairy tale with clear lines between Good and Evil. Lark has to make some very important choices in this story, and unlike so many other protagonists in this genre he's not always motivated by what is Pure and Noble.
The finale left plenty of room for sequels, and I sincerely hope that Mr. Read writes them. This book is a great antidote to the glut of romance oriented paranormal fiction; the only romance in this book is a long dead failed relationship that Lark hasn't been able to move past. The world, and the way magic works in it, is consistent and interesting without detracting from the human element of the story.
boobs: 0
blood: 4
bombs; 1
bondage: 0
blasphemy: 4
MORE LIKE THIS PLEASE! I stayed up way past my bedtime to finish this book. It's fantastic. The plot is paced perfectly, the characterization is great and the world Mr. Read has created is magnificent. I saw a few nods to Charles Stross's Laundry Archives series - I believe readers who like the Laundry stories will appreciate this book too.
Mr. Read draws an abstract picture of the unnamed, generic city the story takes place in; his command of the language draws sparse and unobtrusive descriptions that I was able to fill in. The protagonist Lark is an anti-hero - which I always appreciate, and the antagonists and supporting characters are each drawn with depth and unique voices.
Magic, in this story, isn't defined as much as it's described. It's a function of discipline and will, and Mr. Read draws heavily from a number of traditions to enrich the world and edify the reader. Suffice to say that while the plot is entirely driven by magic, this is not some wishy-washy fairy tale with clear lines between Good and Evil. Lark has to make some very important choices in this story, and unlike so many other protagonists in this genre he's not always motivated by what is Pure and Noble.
The finale left plenty of room for sequels, and I sincerely hope that Mr. Read writes them. This book is a great antidote to the glut of romance oriented paranormal fiction; the only romance in this book is a long dead failed relationship that Lark hasn't been able to move past. The world, and the way magic works in it, is consistent and interesting without detracting from the human element of the story.
May 29, 2013
Now, I don't like to reveal too much (if any) of a plot in a review, so if you want an idea of what happens, this ain't the review for you. This is primarily a novel about magic but at the same time it isn't. It's a novel about everything we can't explain about the world around us and, in that, it's an homage to every story every told trying to explain it - myths, legends, biblical stories, propaganda, history, gossip and rumour. They've come together in a melange and created a world which is unique, mainly because it's our world but fused with any magic you've ever heard of - plus some - to portray the love, fear, pain and honour we see every day. There is a lot of respect in here for other storytellers and the work that they have done, in that anything goes - if you've heard of it, if you've thought of it, it exists in the Black City. Black City has a dark tone to it, but underscoring it there is a light in the darkness of flawed heroes and unexpected but honest kinship that has a familiar resonance about it. Christian is great with his magical terminology - if you don't have a grimoire handy, a standard dictionary should suffice.
June 12, 2013
Once the star magician for the Library, the most powerful magical enforcement agency in the City, Lark has fallen on hard times, performing petty enchantments for rich wastrels and criminal bottom-feeders — until his ex-girlfriend and -co-worker shows up on his doorstep. Something has been stolen — and, with various factions fighting over its retrieval, the Library can't make its involvement known.
Meanwhile, though, something has been let loose in the City through the hands and graffiti of a 14-year old girl. While magicians fight, it begins its bid for a takeover.
Gritty, noirish and tense, Read's Black City is filled with the creatures that inhabit the shadows and the edges of consciousness and Lark, disappointed and disappointing, has one thing in life left at which he is a master: magic. The magic, almost as much a character as the City's inhabitants, isn't potions and lightning, but plunging the deep, dark recesses of the soul and calling forth the strange and the symbolic and the surreal.
And over and above and around it all, the City, a filthy, living edifice breathing greed and death through its pores.
Black City brings together detective noir and the supernatural in a tale that will drag you into a world unlike anything you've ever read.
Meanwhile, though, something has been let loose in the City through the hands and graffiti of a 14-year old girl. While magicians fight, it begins its bid for a takeover.
Gritty, noirish and tense, Read's Black City is filled with the creatures that inhabit the shadows and the edges of consciousness and Lark, disappointed and disappointing, has one thing in life left at which he is a master: magic. The magic, almost as much a character as the City's inhabitants, isn't potions and lightning, but plunging the deep, dark recesses of the soul and calling forth the strange and the symbolic and the surreal.
And over and above and around it all, the City, a filthy, living edifice breathing greed and death through its pores.
Black City brings together detective noir and the supernatural in a tale that will drag you into a world unlike anything you've ever read.
November 14, 2018
An okay urban fantasy, very similar to the Harry Dresden books. Sadly, it's poorly edited and is riddled with unnecessary sexism, racism, ablism and homophobia. The bigotry is written off as "just that character's point of view," but when all the characters are like that and the bigotry isn't challenged it's a problem.
June 10, 2019
I've been waiting to fully attack this, as Mr Read has put such a plethora of incredible ideas in this gritty urban fantasy noir that to simply dash off a review would be remiss of me. The fact that I downloaded his 'Devil City' the moment I finished this should give the curious ample direction as to the power of the author's compulsion-inducing words.
For the broadest of reviewing strokes, I found the unique melange of Read's City as a festering hive of New York jacked with the Moscow of Night Watch with a little of early Aronofsky to stir the pot. Textured, rich and engaging.
Now, more detail.
First up, its description of the employment of magic is rigorous and electric. As a filmmaker, I'm obsessed with the visual, but more so the relatability of experiences that are just too distant to me in most fantasy. As a fantasy fan, my triangular paradigm extends between Lovecraft, Gaiman and Barker, and not much beyond. Much of the rest I've attempted belies the basic humanity in the magic. Like a cold metal bit between my teeth, Read's inventions in turn pain me and satisfy me, but never bore me. I want to suffer with Lark as he summons and wards, and I do. None of this wand wars / Harry Potter battling.
I love the worn characters. The ever-defeated Lark, Bettina - the half-lifeless creation stewed with guts and dirt, the shadowy form of Hollow Jon. Plus a rich tapestry of secondaries who bring their own egos to the mix. I thrived on the Hassan i-Sabbah-like Old Man and relished the concept of the Scroll and its cosmic significance. The Library - this literary Cosa Nostra - and its occult power draped like a veil across a hidden part of the City. But most of all the broken, cocky all too human frame of Lark - a hero that you want to smack hard, before you willingly follow him into some necrotic abyss. Then talk about it over whisky afterwards, even though you know you'd be picking up the tab.
What a wonderful spill of deeply personal convictions thrown against a cosmic canvas.
I demand you pick up this fabulous tale if you're a fan of the odd, the broken and the enormously inventive. I'm deep in Devil City right now, and I demand no rest for Mr Read. He must continue with these characters, and to leave his old Underwood (I'm positive he must use one) would give me grief. And thence comes the hunting down, and the Stylus of Binding. And of course the geas that would see him never leave the hoary machine of typing until all his growing legions of fans have had their brooding, bloody fill of him.
For the broadest of reviewing strokes, I found the unique melange of Read's City as a festering hive of New York jacked with the Moscow of Night Watch with a little of early Aronofsky to stir the pot. Textured, rich and engaging.
Now, more detail.
First up, its description of the employment of magic is rigorous and electric. As a filmmaker, I'm obsessed with the visual, but more so the relatability of experiences that are just too distant to me in most fantasy. As a fantasy fan, my triangular paradigm extends between Lovecraft, Gaiman and Barker, and not much beyond. Much of the rest I've attempted belies the basic humanity in the magic. Like a cold metal bit between my teeth, Read's inventions in turn pain me and satisfy me, but never bore me. I want to suffer with Lark as he summons and wards, and I do. None of this wand wars / Harry Potter battling.
I love the worn characters. The ever-defeated Lark, Bettina - the half-lifeless creation stewed with guts and dirt, the shadowy form of Hollow Jon. Plus a rich tapestry of secondaries who bring their own egos to the mix. I thrived on the Hassan i-Sabbah-like Old Man and relished the concept of the Scroll and its cosmic significance. The Library - this literary Cosa Nostra - and its occult power draped like a veil across a hidden part of the City. But most of all the broken, cocky all too human frame of Lark - a hero that you want to smack hard, before you willingly follow him into some necrotic abyss. Then talk about it over whisky afterwards, even though you know you'd be picking up the tab.
What a wonderful spill of deeply personal convictions thrown against a cosmic canvas.
I demand you pick up this fabulous tale if you're a fan of the odd, the broken and the enormously inventive. I'm deep in Devil City right now, and I demand no rest for Mr Read. He must continue with these characters, and to leave his old Underwood (I'm positive he must use one) would give me grief. And thence comes the hunting down, and the Stylus of Binding. And of course the geas that would see him never leave the hoary machine of typing until all his growing legions of fans have had their brooding, bloody fill of him.
June 20, 2016
"I became a magician because I'm afraid of everything.
Stupid mistake."
Black City is clever, cruel and captivating.
Urban fantasy as a genre frequently suffers from weak characterisation, perhaps because when writing fantasy it's tempting to linger more on world-building than people.
This is certainly not the case in Black City - all of the characters hum with life (even the dead ones).
For me the best part of the book is Lark's narration - he's a compelling combination of arrogant cynic, acerbic detective, bookish aesthete and ascetic hermit. At times his tough-guy patter and snide remarks are funny and cutting; at other times the loneliness of his internal monologue aches deeply and movingly. His bravery and cowardice often do battle with one another in a single paragraph. I wanted to slap him just as much as I wanted to cheer him on.
The other characters in this story are just as meaty and well-rounded, but special mention ought to go to the women - every bit as ruthless, strong and cliche-subverting as their male counterparts. Everyone in this story has a convincing and compelling motive; you will want to know what happens to all of them.
Fans of China Miéville will enjoy Black City's world-building and mood - the way magic works by a process of strict focus and personal rituals; the inventive brutality of magicians and their clashing motives; the Omegamantis and its horrific acolytes, the ultrascorpions.
Fans of Ben Aaronovitch will also find a lot to enjoy here - the humour is much sparser and grittier but the conversational style is gripping and the pace is breakneck.
My one complaint is that a number of typos made it into the Kindle edition I read - but this is hardly a dealbreaker. Most of all, I can't wait to find out what the hell's going to happen with .
Stupid mistake."
Black City is clever, cruel and captivating.
Urban fantasy as a genre frequently suffers from weak characterisation, perhaps because when writing fantasy it's tempting to linger more on world-building than people.
This is certainly not the case in Black City - all of the characters hum with life (even the dead ones).
For me the best part of the book is Lark's narration - he's a compelling combination of arrogant cynic, acerbic detective, bookish aesthete and ascetic hermit. At times his tough-guy patter and snide remarks are funny and cutting; at other times the loneliness of his internal monologue aches deeply and movingly. His bravery and cowardice often do battle with one another in a single paragraph. I wanted to slap him just as much as I wanted to cheer him on.
The other characters in this story are just as meaty and well-rounded, but special mention ought to go to the women - every bit as ruthless, strong and cliche-subverting as their male counterparts. Everyone in this story has a convincing and compelling motive; you will want to know what happens to all of them.
Fans of China Miéville will enjoy Black City's world-building and mood - the way magic works by a process of strict focus and personal rituals; the inventive brutality of magicians and their clashing motives; the Omegamantis and its horrific acolytes, the ultrascorpions.
Fans of Ben Aaronovitch will also find a lot to enjoy here - the humour is much sparser and grittier but the conversational style is gripping and the pace is breakneck.
My one complaint is that a number of typos made it into the Kindle edition I read - but this is hardly a dealbreaker. Most of all, I can't wait to find out what the hell's going to happen with .
January 23, 2016
A fast-paced story with fresh ideas and a protagonist who'd hex you into a migraine if you tried to call him a hero. Beneath the thin, noir veneer lies superb characterisation, some twisted plotting and genuine magical principles. Best of all, you'll be certain it's about your town.
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