In Dresediel Lex, an alternate Los Angeles once ruled by Aztec Gods but now taken over and colonized by undead corporate wizards, Caleb, a gambler and risk management expert embarks on a risky love affair with Mal, a reckless parkour player… and discovers a deadly threat to the city.

This book is set in the same world as Three Parts Dead, but in a different part of it and involving different characters. They can be read independently.

I didn’t like this quite as much as Three Parts Dead, because it had less of the charming dark humor of the latter and I didn’t like the main characters or their relationships quite as much. It’s still an excellent book, the funny moments are really funny, and it’s perhaps the only book I’ve ever read that actually has something interesting to say about human sacrifice.

Caleb is the son of Temoc, once a priest to the old Gods, now an outlaw and terrorist/rebel against the new corporate overlords his son works for. One of my favorite parts of the book was their fraught relationship, consisting almost entirely of Temoc unexpectedly materializing, Temoc and Caleb squabbling and guilt-tripping each other, and then Temoc de-materializing when he either gets too frustrated or the people chasing him getting too close. Temoc is a terrible person and worse father, but he has his good side and was probably my favorite character. He was also responsible for my single favorite line in the entire book. It’s at the climax and involves a ghastly eldritch horror, and you’ll know it when you get to it.

The ideological divide between father and son involves human sacrifice. Temoc makes the very valid point that Caleb’s corporate bosses are also sacrificing people, just minus the altars and knives: they oppress the poor for the benefit of the rich, they steal water from outlying areas to quench the thirst of their desert city, and they enslave the old Gods. So rather than the simple (and dull) point that human sacrifice is bad, the book raises a much more interesting and relevant set of questions: how much human life and pain is worthwhile to keep a society functioning? Is there any moral difference if the people being sacrificed are consenting to some degree or another? Is it possible for a society to exist without oppressing someone? Are there options beyond walking away from Omelas?

These questions are woven into an excellent, atmospheric novel, full of cool bits. Though I wasn’t that into the main romance, I loved Caleb’s non-romantic relationships. In addition to the father-son one, he also had a lovely friendship with Teo, his co-worker, who in turn had a fun romance with an artist named Sam. (Since I realize the names are ambiguous, that’s a lesbian romance.) The structure is good, and the climax is excellent. I especially liked how even the bit characters had agency and individuality.

Max Gladstone reminds me a bit of China Mieville in the inventiveness of his worldbuilding, exuberance of his prose, and concern with injustice and inequality, but with a more optimistic and humane perspective. His characters may be hurt, physically or emotionally, but they are never punished or shamed for trying to do the right thing. They fight against heavy odds in an unjust world, but even the worst of them have moments of human kindness and concern. That includes not only Temoc, but also the evil overlord skeleton sorcerer.

Spoilers below! Read more... )

Two Serpents Rise (Craft Sequence)
The character is a lawyer entering a nightclub:

As she swished toward the spiral staircase, she cut a wake through demons and skeletal Craftsmen, vampires and priests and technomancers and a deep purple, multi-tentacled horror it took her a moment to place as a client from a decade back.

Talk about "hit the ground running" - this fantasy begins with Tara, a young wizard-lawyer, literally crashing to earth after getting flung out of floating magical law school. After attempt to live a quiet life in her home village ends catastrophically due to a darkly hilarious culture clash involving ordinary people's lack of appreciation for having their dead loved ones raised as mindless zombies, however helpful that might be in terms of fighting off an invasion, she heads for the big city, where she is hired as legal representation and wizard for a temple hoping to resurrect their dead God.

The year is still young, but this is my favorite fantasy that I've read so far this year. It reminded me a little of Terry Pratchett and a little of P. C. Hodgell - the wry tone, the bizarre and bustling city, the sense that even the walk-ons have their own motivations, the multiple plotlines that come together into a satisfying whole, and the sheer exuberant inventiveness. It's written in omniscient, with a narrator who periodically comments (usually hilariously) on the action. The law-based magic system is one of the most interesting and original I've encountered. And embedded in a whole lot of action, legal maneuvering, and magic is a thoughtful look at consent, free will, and whether the ends justify the means.

Even the worst characters have comprehensible motives, and while there's some gruesome violence and acts of highly dubious morality, it's not a grimdark world. Some characters learn empathy, some hit bottom and rise from there, and others have more everyday epiphanies, like getting better at their jobs or making new friends. The heroine is ruthless and terrible at human interactions, but not malicious; "What do you mean, you're running me out of town with pitchforks because I resurrected your dead loved ones as zombies to fight off the enemy? They died fighting to protect you all; I'm sure it's what they'd have wanted!" is typical of how she starts out. It's not where she ends. But my favorite character is the bewildered young priest who chain-smokes to stay in touch with the memory of his beloved fire God.

Highly recommended. I can't wait to read the next books.

Three Parts Dead (Craft Sequence)
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