by Wendy Hawkin | Jul 1, 2017 | Book Review, Ireland, writing and publishing
Lake of Sorrows, Loughnabrone, does not appear to be a real place (at least it doesn’t exist beyond Erin Hart’s fictional novel) but County Offaly is, and I am going there in a few weeks. I reread this 2004 archaeological murder mystery in advance because I’m researching the landscape and Iron Age Ireland for a Hollystone Mysteries spin-off. Offaly is the omphalos of Ireland, lying as it does in the ancient province of Leinster, centred between Galway in the west and Dublin in the east. It is:
…the ancient region known as the Mide, the centre. It was a place that had been ascribed all sorts of magical attributes, the powerful locus represented by the central axes of the crosses on Bronze Age sundiscs, from a time when the world had been divided up into four quadrants, North, South, East, and West, and a shadowy central place, which, because it was not There, had to be Here (9)
It is a land of mountains, wild lands, and rivers, and also of bog. In fact, the Bord na Móna boglands figure into this crime novel, as do those treasures of the past that are occasionally unearthed by a turf cutter. Or by a couple of brothers.
Sometimes it’s treasure; sometimes it’s a body. In the case of Hart’s novel, the Brazil brothers, Dominic and Danny, unearth a large Iron Age hoard in 1977 while working at the Loughnabrone Bog: “numerous axe-heads, several amber bead necklaces, a scabbard and sword hilt, and twelve bronze trumpets” (15). (The Celtic tribes used to scare the bejesus out of their enemies by blaring trumpets in battle.) Complying with the laws of Treasure Trove, the appropriate people are notified and the treasure is shipped to the National Museum in Dublin. At least, most of it. When Danny leaves for Australia, not long after with his reward money, no one is suspicious; until, twenty-odd years later, his body is unearthed in the bog.
American forensic pathologist, Norin Gavin, is in Loughnabrone to examine an ancient bog body in situ. Strangled with a triple knotted leather cord, the man also had his throat cut, and was drowned. A ritual triple murder associate with Iron Age Celts? Most likely. Then, within minutes of her examination, Danny Brazil’s body appears:
the skin was dark brown and the features slightly flattened, the nose smashed to one side, but the eye sockets, skull vault and jawline clearly marked it as human. One skeletal, clawlike hand was curled into a fist and raised above the head…wearing a wristwatch (24).
Danny is clearly no Iron Age sacrifice, though he appears to have endured a ritual killing. Nora, and her lover, archaeologist Cormac Maguire, become embroiled in a complex murder investigation that involves, naturally, several other murders. Well-researched and crafted, what I am most curious about are the Iron Age references and the landscape of the bog. For example, Nora’s first experience on bogland–one I do not intend to replicate–is to be caught outside her car during a dust storm. Suddenly, a stop at the side of a country road turns sinister:
The dust cloud engulfed her, along with the road and the vast expanse of bog on either side, closing her eyes, filling her nostrils and throat with stinging peat. Suddenly unable to guage any distance, she ran blindly until her right knee banged hard into the car’s rear bumper. The glancing pain took her breath away. She didn’t dare open her lips to cry out, but limped around to the driver’s side and climbed in closing the door against the dust that tried to follow her (10).
Note to self: do not stop the rental on the side of a country road, no matter how pastoral it appears, or how long it’s been since the last pit stop!
Hart makes reference to several Iron Age artifacts. The Broighter Hoard was discovered in Derry in 1896 and is exquisite. Quite possibly, these golden gifts were votive offerings to a sea divinity and date back to the first century BC.
La Tène neck ring
Broighter Hoard
How many artifacts are discovered and remain in private collections? And if they are loved and cherished is that such a bad thing? For people like me, yes. I can’t wait to spend time at the National Museum of Archaeology in Dublin admiring those long buried clues to our cultural past. How can we construct a life for a people who left no written records? That is what I am about to discover.
by Wendy Hawkin | Jun 12, 2017 | Book Review, writing and publishing
Meet Lycian. Sad, gentle, purple-eyed Gailfen child. Orphan. Wolf clan. A Wyrm, judged unfit to practice magic. A Mageling still unaware of his enormous power.
Meet Mylinka. Healer. Lavender-haired Visioncaster. Daughter of the Guardian. Once a princess; then a slave child, Mylinka is as stubborn as he is sweet; as fierce as he is fragile.
They meet in innocence, kiss, and are torn apart– thrust into a violent nightmare from which there seems no escape. And yet, the two remain entwined as if by an invisible thread. Is it love?
Lycian and Mylinka are children of a corrupt world, abused by men who lust for power and revel in pain. And so, this other world’s song, is not so distant from our own. As does all great fantasy, the author mirrors our misery in this dystopian world. Listen closely, and you can hear their cries beyond the humming of the spheres.
Things I Love About This Book
Poetry:
First and foremost, Sionnach Wintergreen’s writing. I find myself highlighting passages on my iPad so I can go back and reread them. Though the language appears seemingly effortless, I know what it takes to craft poetic prose.
The kiss on the beach is my favourite scene, but much too long to quote. And so: “She pulled off her remaining sandal, emptying the black sand from it. He watched, with a sense of tragedy, the black grains scatter in the wind.”
A brilliant crimson sun rose above his head, bathing the world in blood. Red sea, red rocks, red sky–everything from the beach in Malyndor, but altered, thin and weeping, drenched like a gauze bandage over a great wound, covering Malyndor like a cruel lie.
The Study of Magic:
Read and learn, all ye apprentices of the magical arts.
“If one can draw magic from another being, or an object like the Astralasphere, or from her surroundings, she can hold her own power in reserve. Mages drew magic from the Astralasphere, warmancers drew the innate magic of other beings–often by force, but magic can also be drawn from one’s surroundings. ‘Free’ energy is all around us–ambient magic. One only has to channel it.”
Fascinating creatures:
Gryphons, telepathic wolves, goblins, and my favourite, the beautiful xhanti who dances dressage.
The Kierighan coughed into one of his black-gloved hands. His xhanti champed its heavy bits. It moved sideways as if it were dancing. Mylinka thought she had never seen such a beautiful animal. The three horns on its otherwise clean wedge-shaped head were evenly spaced and in a neat row that followed its straight profile. Thick curly mane floated against a sleek and heavily muscled neck. Its pricked ears were perfectly shaped and tufted, and the silken fringe on its legs waved like black flags as it moved. Watching it filled her with an inexplicable joy. Riding it would be like being a feather on a breeze.
Tragedy Met with Hope
In what seems a doomed world, populated by monstrous men and women who crave only power, two children meet and form a bond, and from that meeting comes a moment of love, a moment of hope. Is this a message for our own time?
“Rhymer,” she vowed softly. “I’ll save us all.”
I read Book One and Book Two of the Astralasphere Series out of order, but it worked perfectly for me. I wanted to know the children who age and take their revenge. You can find my thoughts on Under the Shadow here. Now I wait for Book Three. And hope. And hope…that kiss will come again.
You can discover more about the characters and series firsthand by reading the author’s blog,
by Wendy Hawkin | Jun 8, 2017 | Book Review, Canadian writers, healing, literature
Eden Robinson
I met Eden Robinson in August 2010, when I attended a gathering of educators in Kamloops, B.C. I was working in Aboriginal Education at the time, and the English First Peoples 10-12 courses were coming available in our province. We gathered to search for understanding, share experiences, and explore ways to promote the courses in our communities.
English First Peoples 10-12
These are wonderful courses that feature authentic First Peoples texts and Principals of Learning to fulfil the required secondary language course requirements. This means that a student can choose to experience First Peoples words and cultures, rather than the usual standbys in the book room like Lord of the Flies and Shakespeare. In communities where there is a significant Indigenous population, Elders enhance the experience, and the curriculum can be personalized and flexed into any number of learning experiences.
Monkey Beach
Eden Robinson joined the circle of provincial educators and spoke about her experiences. Her novel, Monkey Beach, is a recommended text for English First Peoples 12. I haven’t read it for a few years. It’s time for a reread and a review. It’s always good to know exactly where the risky bits are located, so in the Teacher Resource Guide, you’ll find the following page-numbered cautions:
throughout – underage smoking, profanity, fighting and violence
specific:
52 – drug use, violence
65 – violence (fight)
93 – underage drinking
108 – recalling experiences in a residential school
127-128 – verbal abuse
144 – disturbing imagery (describing a death)
156 – fighting
157 – joyriding
204 – drug use
210-211 – adultery, murder
220-221 – mockery and stereotypes of voodoo and witchcraft 230 – use of an Ouija board in a joking manner
251-251 – use of racial slurs and verbal abuse
255 – reference to abuse occurring in residential schools
258 – rape scene
272 – sexual content, disturbing imagery
286 – sexual content
293 – disturbing description of dead body
296 – drinking and drug use
365 – disturbing reference to an abortion
368-69 – disturbing imagery
369 – violence (murder)
As always, Eden Robinson takes risks and opens windows. What do I love about this woman? She tells the truth.
She’s real.
Her characters are real.
And her delivery is real.
She’s also charming, witty, funny, and an amazing storyteller.
And she signed my copy of Monkey Beach with this:
Yowtz Wendy. May good spirits guide you.
Thank you, Eden Robinson. They do. And may good spirits continue to guide you too.
Son of a Trickster
Eden’s latest novel, Son of a Trickster, was released this year. You can read my review online at the Ottawa Review of Books.
by Wendy Hawkin | May 19, 2017 | Book Review, writing and publishing
Lycian
In the Astralasphere Spiral series, Sionnach Wintergreen leads us on a fantastical journey through kingdoms only she can create. The depth and richness of her imagination seep through into her intense, poetic descriptions: from Khydgel’s tortuous Tower of Truth, where the story begins, to the haunted Temple of Fai Lon, where it ends, I am charmed by her words, and how easily she draws us into her world through details:
In one corner, a simple black helm housed a spider and its egg sac. In another, a pair of high leather boots had begun to disintegrate, one remaining erect while the other crumbled over on its side, connected to the floor by a veil of feathery webs. In the middle of the room a desk presided, still piled with journals and parchments, magnifying disks, ink wells and a quill, an orb the size of a clenched fist, a hefty hourglass, and a chalice, the bottom of which was blackened by a dust which might at one time have been bloglun wine.
The story’s antagonist, Lord Mage Asfret, is a complex beast, an Auin Gailfen, who will stop at nothing to attain the power of the Astralasphere (a relic that can empower magic-users via crystals their wear on their bodies). With his lover, Retchen, a hideous wretch deformed by spellfire, but with the ability to read minds, Asfret rampages through the kingdom, torturing and killing, on his quest to retrieve and restore the Astralasphere. Their love is treacherous: he is a man who revels in pain, and she a woman who enjoys providing it. But only so far.
It is easy to love the purple-eyed, crooked-horned hero: Lycian. A Gailfen spellcaster, he is a sweet, gentle soul who travels with his beloved old donkey, Weevil, and his grey wolf, Ayu. How can you not love a man who cares for animals? I am not sure why Lycian allows Writheria to bully him. Does he really love her? Or, is he mourning the loss of his true love, Mylinka? Like all young heroes, Lycian is an orphan with a tragic past and harbours unknown power. He is a great man, but his true destiny is yet to unfold.
The two protagonists in this story are lovers who believe each other dead. I love this concept. I have not read Book One yet, but there is enough backstory here to persuade me that they are fated. Lycian and Mylinka reside in two different places—he in Anjilith and she in Khydgel—and I hope as I read that they will eventually find each other.
Mylinka is a healer, fostered from age twelve, by the abusive Murdoth (one of the Crooked Asp) after her father is murdered at Keep Kylari. She has a few issues. It is her mission to avenge her father’s death and regain her home. I like that Mylinka becomes a strong effective assassin bent on revenging the deaths of, not only her father, but two of her best friends, with a dagger named Mercy and a sword named Despair.
Both Lycian and Mylinka suffer greatly in this story and we learn much of their history; something I dare not divulge. Suffice to say there must be a Book Three.
The book is rich, as rich as Lord Asfret intends to be. Epic fantasy, it employs a host of characters and settings. Sionnach has provided keys to the kingdom: beautiful maps and glossaries of people, places, and terms. But, though it is complex and entirely new to me, I am able to slip inside her world and travel on this complete and satisfying adventure.
Find Sionnach Wintergreen on Amazon
by Wendy Hawkin | Mar 18, 2017 | Book Review, history
I’m currently reading Neil Gaiman’s latest book: Norse Mythology. This morning he posted this review on Twitter.
via Review: Neil Gaiman, ‘Norse Mythology’
The reviewer presents a good summary of the book, but I agree with @neilhimself that his review is wrought with Christian perspective. There is a sense that the “reverent kings” did not have blood on their hands like the pagan invaders; that the bible was the answer to the pagan problem. We, in Canada, know very well where that theory led us.
Would I be terrified by the appearance of Viking ships on the horizon? Yes. But, I’d be just as terrified by an invasion by any “other” tribe that was not my own. That’s why I applaud series like The Last Kingdom and Vikings that illustrate there was/is blood on all hands, but also mercy, kindness, and humour lurks in all hearts.
by Wendy Hawkin | Mar 5, 2017 | Book Review, Canadian writers
Kelley Armstrong rocks it again. A Darkness Absolute is another thrilling slide through the snowbound lands in and around her secret Yukon town, Rockton.
You can read my full review here at the Ottawa Review of Books. While you’re there, read the other reviews, and see what Canada has to offer in the way of amazing books and writers. Thank you for the opportunity to contribute, ORB.
“Kelley, are you working on book three?” I really hope so. I was hooked at book one, but now that Casey and Eric have a Newfie pup…
Newfie Pup from dailypuppy.com