In Midnight Clad - Void Stalker

We all love anti heroes. It's hard to resist them. They're usually cooler, deadlier and downright more badass than your regular, run of the mill hero and have the odd ability to make us all feel a little edgier. Like that's what we'd be in the face of adversity. James Bourne wielding a pistol like a composite marksman, Riddick as he cleaves his way through yet another unjust bounty hunter (while selectively forgetting why he's being hunted). It all evokes a certain rebellious streak, that although we'd probably not be evil in such a situation, it doesn't mean we couldn't indulge our nastier sides from time to time. It is in this vein that Mr Bowden operates, as he has throughout his Nightlords novels, to bring us a selection of relatable, psychotic Traitor Astartes in Void Stalker.

I think something I've always enjoyed the most about Talos and his company of murderers, psychopaths and general degenerates is the way in which Bowden uses them to play with his readers sympathies. For each moment you see them briefly as less than monsters, when they perform an action that could be described as honourable, it is later stripped away by their depravity and boundless cruelty. It really pushes the envelope of the anti hero archetype, so much so that you are left with a series of horrors punctuated by a moments decency. Bowden makes sure you remember these guys are traitors, there is torture galore here, and yet when they go toe to toe with the Emperor's finest of the Genesis Chapter, boy do you want to see them kill those smug Imperium bastards. It's almost like watching Bowden's three dimensional characters cutting down the less developed creations of the Black Library, and it's exceptionally satisfying.

It's important to consider Void Stalker as part of a larger story, a conclusion to the previous novels of Soul Hunter and Blood Reaver. Does it fulfill what is promised? Is it an epic conclusion? To both of these questions I can answer with a resounding, yes. That isn't to say that the book is perfect, but that it successfully ends the series without dropping at the final hurdle, ala Spider Man. You may have noted that all the examples here so far have been movies, something I felt important to emphasise. Bowden writes in a way that could be easily translated to the big screen, enjoying a far better plethora of action moments, dramatic faceoffs and character developments than was displayed in the near woeful Ultramarines film. Interestingly, the Genesis Chapter is a progenitor of the Ultramarines, so perhaps Void Stalker aided me in working through some deep seated issues?

The story once again revolves around Talos, or the Prophet as he is known and the battle not only with the Imperium, but his brothers and himself. He reaches the climax of his introspection in Void Stalker, his realisations about his Legion and the universe around him. This is intermixed seamlessly with flashbacks to the fall of the Nightlords' last great fortress on the planet of Tsagualsa, to the Progenitors of the hated Ultramarines. Action, character deaths and murderess brutality run throughout the story, with a number of gory scenes bringing home the depravity that even Talos, the main protagonist after all, engages in with relish. It's all quite disturbing for as already discussed, these guys are not your quintessential heroes.  While you can understand them you can never really support them. Only enjoy the ride. I have to admit, in the final confrontation I enjoyed each kill inflicted on the Nightlords, while simultaneously egging them on to see their reactions, their insane bravery. They are one hell of a contradiction and a testament to Bowden's ability to weave such an intricate web. Balancing the Nightlords' demented psyche with a great story, while not travelling into the realms of silliness and camp, bad guy overkill.  Just thinking about such complications makes me want to peel the skin from some innocent bystander and wear it as a cape.  You think I'm sick?  You ain't seen nothing yet.

So to conclude, Mr Bowden has executed a fine ending to a top notch series. Sporting Astartes one can relate too, action scenes which are as bloody as they are exciting and a twist ending you don't expect, Void Stalker is the pinnacle of Space Marine writing. What makes this truly remarkable is the fact that the novel focuses on a traitor legion, something you would have thought would make the process more difficult. But as Bowden showed in the absorbing and near irresistible First Heretic he genuinely seems to understand the minds of the fallen, putting him on top of the Black Library pile for me. For many can write a great action scene, but few could truly express what it means to walk in Midnight Clad. I'll be doubtless reading this series for many years to come, and so should you.

The Peculiar Behaviours of a Botanists Nightmare

The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a coming of age story that operates in the extremis. That is to say, as many issues as humanly possible are dealt with in its 230 pages, giving the entire narrative something of a heavy gait. This in itself is no bad thing, for being stuck on the margins as a teenager is a difficult experience, fraught with social anxieties and figuring out your place in the world. In that regard Charlie, our protagonist would seem a fine choice through whose eyes to navigate the rigours of teenage life. Having just moved to a new school he feels alone and adrift, a fact that is compounded by the recent death of his friend. It’s a good setting, however nobody seemed to explain the concept of overkill to Stephen Chbosky. Due to this oversight in his education, at times the entire story seems nothing more than a series of unfortunate events tied together by Charlie’s faltering neurosis. Physical abuse, homophobia, molestation, mental illness, teen pregnancy, suicide, they all make an appearance within the space of 230 pages. It just feels like too much in too short a time. In truth it’s all a little melodramatic, although maybe the author thought that’s what teenagers would relate to best.

Oddly however, this overload is not the books greatest weakness. In truth, some of the issues are dealt with very well, the difficulties of maintaining a gay relationship when one partner is still closeted for instance was both intense and moving. No, what really put paid to the narrative was Charlie. His reactions and behaviours are so far outside of the norm that they transcend the simple explanations of him being a loner, or even the revelation of his molestation. His sheer peculiarity, especially his propensity to cry or feel the need to cry every few pages removes much-needed gravitas and the ability to empathise with him. This again is the product of Chbosky’s need to overdo his world, relegating the nuances and difficulties of mental illness to the sledgehammer like portrayal that Charlie exhibits. It feels like a learners introduction to depression, or mental health, and could have been dealt with in more detail had the author removed a few of his less important dramatic events.

A great deal has been said about the writing style and structure of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, invariably being praised for its simplistic approach and letter format. In this regard it does excel at making its message easy to understand, however in the process it contributes to the overall dumbing down of the story. It even feels a tad patronising at times and certainly contributes negatively towards Charlie's development as a character. This shows through most obviously when Charlie is meant to be improving in school and becoming a more gifted student. There is simply no symmetry between Chbosky's description and what the reader is shown. His letters seem to be written by a much younger child and this all culminates in the story seeming overly simplified and disrespectful of the intelligence of its readers. On the one level it seems that the author was trying to make the story easily accessible, however in the process had the effect of relegating it to a second rate presentation. It's a pity for Chbosky's goals were admirable, if a little off centre.

In conclusion The Perks of Being a Wallflower never really capitalises on its ideas, mainly due to the author's notion that the book must be short and utterly comprehensive in its selection of life lessons. He seems to assume that teenagers lack the ability or commitment to stay with a more detailed story, a fact which the many trilogies and booming market of teenage literature seems to disprove. In doing so he incontrovertibly damages the book before it even begins, severely weakening the main protagonist. The issues covered are just too numerous for 230 pages and would have benefited from greater attention, perhaps even a sequel. In the end The Perks of Being a Wall Flower comes across as a story in love with it's own tragedy, yet completely lacking the tools with which to examine or present itself adequately to the reader. It is not a great work of fiction, it is not well written and it is definitely not, a wall flower.

Legion of the Damned - Rob Sanders Returns

Rob Sanders genuinely seems to understand the grim and dark of the far future, perhaps better than any other Black Library writer. His portrayal of the universe is merciless and at times, downright nasty, so as you can imagine I was pretty excited to hear he was bringing his talents to the Space Marine Battles series. Then to hear he'd been given the Legion of the Damned as his subject, well, I was pumped full of nerd sugar and ready to fly. As such I picked up the novel on it's release and demolished it within the day, and I have to say, it wasn't what I expected.

One of the greatest facets of the 40k universe is it's grandiose scale, the sheer size and magnitude of it being a singular draw for sci-fi fans and pulp fiction readers. Everything has something of a legendary status, from the might of the Astartes to the star destroying fire power of the Imperial Navy, so there's lots of meat to sink one's teeth into. This, however, can be something of a handicap when bringing the universe to life in detail, for some aspects don't quite work. The best example of this is the Grey Knights novels by Ben Counter. Given the near unstoppable and mind wiped nature of Chapter 666, no work could ever do them justice, for they are too far outside of the norm. In this regard, Rob Sanders dealt well with the mythical status of the Legion of the Damned, by making them a component of the story but not its main focus. Instead we follow Zacariah Kersh, shamed warrior of the Excoriators Chapter towards his greatest battle, and encounter with the Damned

In true form, Sander's universe is a dark one, with the Excoriators indulging in their eternal self flagellation for the failure of their Primarch, Rogal Dorn, to save the Emperor from the traitor Horus. Following a disastrous ambush by the duplicitous Alpha Legion, Zacariah Kersh is left a reviled figure having failed his Chapter Master and losing the Chapter Standard. Much like with Mortensen in Redemption Corps he is not a likable character in the traditional sense, haunted by his failure and the ghost who heralds the coming of the Damned. This Revenant will follow him throughout the story, allowing Kersh to express his doubts and feelings in relation to the story at large and was something of a masterstroke by Sanders in relation to Kersh's development as a character. It allows him to be more than another cardboard cut out Space Marine, mired in duty and lacking in personality. It makes him easier to relate with, for who hasn't failed at some point in their lives? Add to this the hostile reactions of his subordinates and the ever present threat from without the Chapter, and it's hard to find a moments calm in the 41st millennium.

Having established such a rich and intricate main protagonist and world, one would have hoped for an equally engaging battle. After all, it is in the name of the series. Sadly however, this never quite materialises for a number of reasons. Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, the setting is too small. The planet of Certus Minor is a cemetery world with a tiny population and equally tiny garrison. Possessing but one major city it lacks any great scope and effectively pin holes 40k's greatest strength, its sheer size. The visual of the great Chaos host, the Cholercaust, descending on this tiny Rorke's Drift of a planet is an exciting one, however the fighting never feels heroically desperate, but hopeless and resigned. This is not to say that the visuals are not impressive, the scenes depicted with great care, but rather that they lack that superhuman quality that so defines Bowden's Helsreach or Wraight's struggle for the Fang. It just falls a little flat. As sadly, does the appearance of the Legion of the Damned. In a rather peculiar turn they possess a mere 15 to 20 pages towards the end of the novel, and don't make any great impact upon the reader. They simply appear, do their duty, and fade away. It was all a little lack lustre.

So to conclude, is Legion of the Damned worth your time? Despite never quite reaching it's potential, floundering at the final bolter round, I would have to say yes. Putting aside my own Sanders worshipping it is still an extremely entertaining read, possessing treachery, disaster and the diabolical followers of Chaos. The fact that it falls shy is disappointing but not crippling, a testament to the style and skill with which the author executes the rest of the story. So while there may be too few instances of ghost Astartes spilling Khornate blood, it's still a four star read, even if you are left with a slight niggling at the end for what could have been.