Category Archives: Reviews

The Unseen, by T. L. Hines

I think I’ll just start my review by saying that T. L. Hines’s The Unseen is one of the most impressive thrillers I’ve read in some time—not just among Christian books, but among thrillers in general. I liked Hines’ first novel, Waking Lazarus, quite a lot. I was less impressed with The Dead Whisper On, his second. But this book—in my opinion—knocks it out of the park. It works on many levels, not only as a straight thriller, but as a cultural metaphor.

Lucas, the hero, is not strictly a part of the normal world. He makes a little money doing temporary, menial jobs, but he doesn’t need much money, because he’s essentially homeless. He moves from place to place in Washington, DC—abandoned buildings, service tunnels, even the sewer. He lives to watch other people, from hiding places he sets up behind walls and ceilings, “between the seams of society.” He’s not a voyeur in the ordinary sense. He doesn’t spy on women in dressing rooms, for instance. He watches people in public places, or at work. He imagines what their lives are like. It’s the only thing that makes him feel good, that calms the incessant buzzing he hears in his brain.

But one day he meets another man who’s a watcher like him. Through that man he learns of a whole organization of “creepers,” people who install cameras and make secret videos of people in their homes. They film acts of domestic violence and murder plots, but they refuse to do anything about them.

Lucas does something about them. Only the results aren’t what he expects, and the more he learns the stranger the mysteries grow, until he finds himself pursuing—and fleeing from—spies and counterspies and mysterious scientists who may hold the secret to his own forgotten past.

Aside from the originality of the concept, I liked the way Hines progressively amped up the tension (some of the action is kind of hackneyed, but it’s effective) and managed to make sympathetic a character who could have been pretty repellant. And Lucas’s watching obsession obviously mirrors various pathologies in modern society, from which (I suspect) few of us are entirely free. (Porn, anyone? Reality TV?) I suppose most readers won’t identify with Lucas as strongly as I did, but I think most will identify to some degree or another.

Highly recommended for older teens and adults. Well done.

The Undead at War, by Kevin Long

Kevin Long, who is the author of The Undead At War is the same person as the Republibot 3.0 who wrote Ice Cream and Venom, which I reviewed a while back (I note that he’s come out of the closet on that authorship now). I thought his work showed a lot of promise then, and I’m happy to report that he’s only gotten better as a writer.

Although there are some stand-alone stories in the collection, the bulk of the stories fall into two sequences—the Undead stories (which, in spite of expectations, are not about zombies or vampires), and the Redneck Universe stories, which culminate in the last part of the book, a novella called “Home Again.”

The Undead stories are actually concerned with the question of medical life extension. What if we could preserve the brains of people whose bodies have died, hook them up to a virtual reality scenario, and put their brain power to work? Plenty of moral ambiguities are explored, and the texture of the narrative is enriched by the fact that the narrator, one of the Undead himself, is not a particularly admirable man, and has every reason to wish to postpone his absolute death.

The Redneck Universe stories have a Heinleinian flavor, and concern a mass exodus from earth by a large number of people who form colonies—entirely without the support of any terrestrial government—on distant planets. The essential theme of all these stories is the alienation experienced by people trying to find a way to be human in environments no human has ever known before. The narrator of “Home Again,” the bittersweet novella at the end of the book, is further torn when, on returning to earth, he finds himself (because of the effects of relativity) subjectively only a few years older than when he left, but faced with a world where everything has experienced decades of change. Christians are likely to have trouble with the one religious scene in this story, and also with its conclusion, which is nevertheless dramatically justified.

If you’re a science fiction fan, especially one with libertarian views, I think you’ll probably like The Undead At War. Cautions for language and adult situations.

Cry Unto Heaven, by Darwin Garrison

Full disclosure: Darwin Garrison is a friend of mine. But even adjusting for my prejudice, I think Cry Unto Heaven is a good, satisfying story.

In a sort of post-apocalyptic world (a very special kind of post-apocalyptic world) a young girl named Renn, scavenging for food, is rescued from a rapist by a man named Zeke who reminds her of an angel. He has seemingly supernatural powers, and he’s on a mission to answer prayers, and to frustrate the plans of his own brother, who has committed great crimes and wants to commit worse.

Cry Unto Heaven is a quick read, with good characters, a tight narrative, and theological resonance (no preaching). I enjoyed it a lot, and it’ll only cost you a buck. Recommended.

The Well of the Unicorn, by Fletcher Pratt

A friend gave me a copy of The Well of the Unicorn by Fletcher Pratt, in order to reduce my appalling ignorance of some of the classics in my own genre. Having read it, I can see why it’s a (kind of a) classic, but also, I think, why it will probably never have a passionate following.

Fletcher Pratt, a prolific author who worked in many genres, as well as nonfiction, in the early part of the 20th Century, was a very fine author. The single thing that impressed me most about The Well of the Unicorn was the fact that he uses antique diction, but unlike most authors he actually uses it well. He very clearly understands the old words and idioms he employs, giving the whole story a flavor of authenticity.

On the other hand, that same diction can be an obstacle to the reader. I have a pretty extensive vocabulary, and I still found the prose a bit of a slog. Continue reading The Well of the Unicorn, by Fletcher Pratt →

Phil’s Review of Troll Valley

I finished Troll Valley last night, and like many of you, loved it. His characters have authentic voices and raise questions that are not clearly answered. His main character, Christian Anderson, follows a story arc somewhat similar to the priest of Graham Greene’s The Power and the Glory, being a sympathetic boy who grows into a despicable coward and returns to being sympathetic again. It’s a beautiful, challenging picture of divine grace.

One of the pastors in Troll Valley reminds me of a preacher I know through family ties. He knows the Bible well and yet is so wrong on select issues that you wish you could push him to become either a wholly sound pastor or a ridiculous fanatic. You might trust him more if he was less complicated, but such complications make the story so good.

One brief scene from the book may illustrate this point. Christian slips into the underworld or faerie land a few times. You might even say the whole story is about how faerie land is breaking in on Chris’ life. One time, he sees a giant hammering away on the manacles tying him to the ground. He’s crying because he can’t get free, but when Chris asks him about it, he says he chained himself down so that he wouldn’t attack the beautiful children who were playing nearby. Now in his chains, he wrestles to get free and attack them. That complex conflict of the heart and will may be the key to Troll Valley. Christian and other characters are limited in ways that keep them healthy to a degree and restrained. They don’t know how to assert their desires in positive ways and chafe at their restrictions until they can no longer stand it. If and when they break free, they make a terrible mess of themselves. Can they handle the self-determination they seek? Some of the restrictions which bind them are not sound ones, which makes the binding worse, and that is one of the major themes that makes this novel wonderful.

Continue reading Phil’s Review of Troll Valley →

Answering Big Questions and Overcoming Fear

I respect Dr. Edward Welch from some of his earlier works (a good example, Running Scared: Fear, Worry & the God of Rest). Now, he has a book for teenagers and young adults in which he answers a few fundamental questions. What Do You Think of Me? Why Do I Care?: Answers to the Big Questions of Life leads a reader into the reasons he may pander to his crowd by asking:

  1. Who is God?
  2. Who am I?
  3. Who are these other people?

Whatever answers we give to these questions point to what we worship, and that’s the heart of the matter.

Welch offers a gentle path to freedom to anyone wise enough to walk with him. He describes true and false worship as being those things that are worthy of our love and those that aren’t. “Love the approval, acceptance, or love of other people; they will be like a god to you and control your life,” he writes. “It is a basic principle: the more you are controlled by God, the less you are controlled by other people. The more you love God, the less you will love the acceptance or recognition of others. So grit your teeth and get to work! Just kidding.”

I look forward to giving my daughters this book to help guard them against the fear of men, which I still find threatening. It’s probably the main reason I don’t feel as if I’ve fully grown up yet.

Dead Zero, by Stephen Hunter

There are various ways for authors to handle the problem of aging in popular series characters. Some characters never age at all. Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin were unaffected by the passage of decades. John D. MacDonald, as I recall, allowed his hero Travis McGee to age about one year for every three in real time. This lent an illusion of realism, while extending McGee’s effective life as an action hero as long as the author was likely to live. Perhaps the bravest course is to just let nature take its course.

That’s what Stephen Hunter is doing in his Bob Lee Swagger novels. Old Bob Lee, decorated Vietnam War Marine sniper, is getting long in the tooth. He’s moving slow, and feeling his aches and pains (especially the ones from his multiple wounds) pretty badly.

So Hunter has apparently decided to take the series in a new direction. And I salute him for it. In Dead Zero he’s produced an exciting and compelling action novel in which Bob Lee acts as the shrewd old detective, reader of human “landscape,” and spotter, but another, younger sniper has come on board to do the running and crawling and shooting. Continue reading Dead Zero, by Stephen Hunter →

It seems like a good day; what did I overlook?

All in all, a pretty good day.

I took half a vacation day, because I had to meet a service entity for my regularly scheduled furnace inspection. I also needed to pick up my snow blower, which, I had been informed, was now back in fighting trim.

I knew both these things would cost me money, but as it worked out, neither cost as much as I expected.

How often does that happen in this economy?

Also, two blog reviews of Troll Valley appeared.

The first was from Hunter Baker, author of The End of Secularism. He calls me “talented and wise,” so I’m pretty sure he got me mixed up with Walker Percy.

Also, a nice review from Betsy Lightfoot at This, That, and the Other Thing.

Thanks to both.

I think both reviews link to the Amazon page.

But I should remind you that, if you have a Nook, you can get it from Lulu at this address.

Have a good weekend.

What the Night Knows, by Dean Koontz

I’m a fan of Dean Koontz, so when I say that I wasn’t entirely pleased with What the Night Knows, you must understand that I’m not saying it was a bad read, or that it bored me. It’s a professionally constructed story, with appealing characters and gripping terror. But there were things that disappointed me about it.

As in so many Koontz stories, the action is sparked by a bigger-than-life villain. This one is Alton Turner Blackwood, a gigantic, deformed sexual sadist who has an extra advantage—he’s dead. He can possess inanimate objects or people, and he uses them to commit horrific sex murders against entire families. He especially craves young, innocent females.

Years ago police detective John Calvino, then a teenaged boy, walked in on Blackwood just after he had murdered Calvino’s family. Calvino shot him to death. But somehow Blackwood’s evil spirit endures, and he is determined to recreate his last string of murders, on precisely the same timetable, finishing up with Calvino and his wife and three children. Continue reading What the Night Knows, by Dean Koontz →

Apparently I have hidden depths

Our friend Grim at the Grim’s Hall blog has the honor of posting the first blog review of Troll Valley. And what he has to say about it is extremely intriguing:

There is a wider lesson to her example.  A family home is like a broader human community in that it has rules that establish a way of life, and under that way of life a community is possible.  We see in the early chapters how the traditions of Norwegian families at Yuletide sustained a broad community through hard work.  It is at that feast that the mother first uses her power to force a change in the rules, in her interest and against the interests of others.  It is by forcing continual alterations of the rules of life that she destroys the community within the house, so that finally no one can live with her at all.

Each of these rules is meant to represent moral progress, but each of them destroys the living community in which human kindness is possible.  

Grim sees the book as a drama of modern ideas of societal reform in conflict with the old traditions, and traditional relationships, that actually bind society together.

I find this fascinating, because I honestly didn’t have that in mind when I wrote. I was thinking of politics vs. religion, not politics vs. tradition. But now that he mentions it, I can see that the lesson is there. What I did was try to represent factually the kind of changes that were going on in the first couple decades of the 20th Century, and the “lesson” grew kind of organically from the events.

This all pleases me immensely. I like being smarter than I intended.