cavalary's reviews
269 reviews

[EN: (RO below)]
Reading this book shortly after Brilliant Green probably made me have an even better opinion of it, since it’s so much better. The author presents a lot of information at a rapid pace, but to some extent also wraps it in a narrative and helps the reader draw some mental images that make it that much easier to read and understand. Also, while making connections and returning to various matters when appropriate, he doesn’t dwell on any one issue, avoids “preaching” and, in fact, doesn’t insist on conclusions or interpretations. They do exist, but they’re usually just mentioned briefly, along with either a reference to either a study or a personal experience that supports them, or with the statement that they’re merely personal opinions, and then the author moves on.

The overall picture is rather sad, for both trees and people. In some ways, like understanding how hurt most trees are and how many are dying for periods ranging between years and centuries before they can no longer hold on, that’s unavoidable, since that’s life. And the unpleasant feelings generated by truly understanding that any proper rewilding, or in fact even the growth of pretty much any tree that actually develops properly, can’t be observed in one lifetime, and perhaps not even over a few generations, should likely be fought against, because they’re the result of selfishness. But seeing those periods of time as how long it’ll take to fix the damage and understanding how doomed and potentially harmful even well-intentioned efforts, like planting trees or creating urban green spaces, usually are is a painful reminder of how hopeless the situation is.

Otherwise, I find little to complain about when it comes to the book itself, except perhaps that it focuses too much on local matters and experiences but is presented as generally applicable. However, the translated edition that I read could have been adapted to some extent and it wasn’t, plus that there were a handful of obvious translation mistakes, so I wonder how many others I failed to notice.

[RO:]
Faptul ca am citit aceasta carte la scurt timp dupa Verde Uimitor probabil ca m-a facut sa am o opinie si mai buna despre ea, pentru ca e mult mai buna. Autorul prezinta multe informatii intr-un ritm alert, dar intr-o anumita masura le si imbraca intr-un narativ si ajuta cititorul sa deseneze niste imagini mintale care o fac sa fie cu atat mai usor de citit si inteles. De asemenea, desi face legaturi si se intoarce la diverse subiecte la momentele potrivite, nu insista pe nicio problema anume, evita "predica" si, de fapt, nu insista asupra concluziilor sau interpretarilor. Acestea exista, dar de obicei sunt doar mentionate pe scurt, impreuna ori cu o referinta la un studiu sau o experienta personala care le sustine, ori cu declaratia ca sunt doar opinii personale, iar apoi autorul trece mai departe.
Imaginea generala este destul de trista, atat pentru copaci cat si pentru oameni. In unele feluri, cum ar fi sa intelegi cat de raniti majoritatea copacilor sunt si cum multi sunt pe moarte pentru perioade cuprinse intre ani si secole pana cand nu mai pot rezista, asta nu se poate evita, fiindca asta-i viata. Si probabil ca ar trebui sa se lupte impotriva senzatiilor neplacute generate de intelegerea ca orice resalbaticire, sau de fapt chiar si cresterea cam oricarui copac care chiar se dezvolta cum ar trebui, nu poate fi observata intr-o viata, si poate nici macar pe parcursul catorva generatii, pentru ca sunt rezultatul egoismului. Dar sa vezi acele perioade de timp ca fiind cat ar dura sa reparam pagubele si sa intelegi cat de sortite esecului si potential daunatoare chiar si eforturile bine intentionate, ca plantarea copacilor sau crearea de spatii verzi urbane, sunt de obicei reaminteste dureros cat de lipsita de speranta e situatia.
Altfel, nu prea am de ce sa ma plang cand vine vorba de cartea in sine, exceptand poate ca se concentreaza prea mult pe probleme si experiente locale insa este prezentata ca general aplicabila. Totusi, editia tradusa pe care am citit-o ar fi putut fi adaptata intr-o anumita masura si n-a fost, plus ca au fost cateva greseli evidente de traducere, asa ca ma intreb cate altele n-am observat.

[EN: (RO below)]
I ended up reading this book after the librarian recommended it when I borrowed another, which was also one that I had a relatively low interest in, since I couldn’t find the ones that I was actually curious about. And it’s short and easy to read, and it does contain some interesting information. Plus that arguing against anthropocentrism and all the situations when, even among the scientific community, facts are rejected or distorted in order to fit established positions is always good to see.

The problem, however, is that the book is light on actual facts, and when it comes to the boldest claim, that plants are intelligent, I’d say that the only potential argument is in fact in another chapter, when that experiment demonstrating that mimosa pudica is capable of learning is mentioned. The other sections, aiming to prove that plants sense, react and communicate, are backed by far more solid arguments and interesting pieces of information, but those claims aren’t controversial, or at least they shouldn’t be in this day and age, those being pretty obvious facts for anyone who just looks around. But the chapter about plant intelligence starts by stating that, since so many definitions of intelligence exist, the one that was chosen was the one that fits, which sounds very much like putting the conclusion before the arguments. Or, ahem, distorting facts in order to fit an established position… Which wouldn’t otherwise result from them.

I mean, of course the ability to solve problems is a basic function of life, but that doesn’t necessarily imply intelligence. And a line can most definitely separate intelligent behavior from what may be described as living automatons. And stating that some plant functions may be similar to those of the simplest, most primitive, animal brains should probably count as evidence against the claim that they’re intelligent. And that may also apply to the fact that plants dominate Earth, since evolution does tend to lead to greater complexity and intelligence, but it’s driven by a need to change, the particularly successful species tending to remain unchanged and simpler.

[RO:]
Am ajuns sa citesc aceasta carte dupa ce bibliotecara mi-a recomandat-o cand am imprumutat alta, care era tot una care ma interesa destul de putin, intrucat n-am putut sa le gasesc pe cele legat de care chiar eram curios. Si e scurta si usor de citit, si contine ceva informatii interesante. Plus ca e mereu bine sa vezi argumente impotriva antropocentrismului si tuturor situatiilor in care, chiar si in comunitatea stiintifica, datele sunt respinse sau distorsionate pentru a se potrivi pozitiilor dinainte stabilite.
Problema, insa, este ca aceasta carte este saraca in date propriu-zise, iar in privinta celei mai indraznete afirmatii, cum ca plantele sunt inteligente, as spune ca singurul argument potential este de fapt in alt capitol, cand este mentionat acel experiment care a demonstrat ca mimosa pudica este capabila de invatare. Celelalte sectiuni, care doresc sa dovedeasca faptul ca plantele simt, reactioneaza si comunica, sunt sustinute de argumente mult mai solide si informatii interesante, dar acele afirmatii nu sunt controversate, sau cel putin n-ar trebui sa fie in epoca asta, acelea fiind realitati destul de evidente pentru oricine pur si simplu se uita in jur. Insa capitolul despre inteligenta plantelor incepe cu afirmatia ca, intrucat exista atat de multe definitii ale inteligentei, cea aleasa a fost cea care se potriveste, ceea ce suna foarte mult ca punerea concluziei inaintea argumentelor. Sau, ahem, distorsionarea datelor pentru a se potrivi pozitiei dinainte stabilite... Care altfel n-ar rezulta din ele.
Adica, sigur ca abilitatea de a rezolva probleme este o functie de baza a vietii, dar asta nu implica neaparat inteligenta. Si o linie cu siguranta poate separa comportamentul inteligent de ceea ce ar putea fi descris ca automatoni vii. Si afirmatia ca unele functii ale plantelor pot fi similare cu cele ale celor mai simple, mai primitive, creiere animale ar trebui probabil contorizata ca o dovada impotriva celei ca sunt inteligente. Si asta s-ar putea aplica si faptului ca plantele domina Pamantul, intrucat evolutia tinde intr-adevar sa duca la mai multa complexitate si inteligenta, insa este manata de o nevoie de schimbare, speciile care au un succes deosebit tinzand sa ramana neschimbate si mai simple.

[EN: (RO below)]
I’m not sure how much was lost in the Romanian translation of this book, but it’d have also been translated if I’d have read it in English and the sensationalist English title, “Our House Is on Fire: Scenes of a Family and a Planet in Crisis”, makes me have doubts about the rest of that translation anyway, even more so when the original title, “Scenes from the Heart”, preserved in the Romanian edition, fits so well. Because this book is so deeply personal, so incredibly open, so painfully honest, that every word must be from the heart, and this is what makes it worth reading.
True, it makes a great difference if the personal parts are particularly familiar, perhaps even more so if only the problems are, in which case the admission that having the social status, contacts and wealth required to access the solutions needed for such individuals and families to remain more or less functional is such a rare privilege can feel somewhat soothing. And I see that some are bothered by this mix of personal matters and activism, and of neurodivergence and the climate crisis. But, again, the truth is that it’s those personal parts that make this book truly remarkable.
Sure, some of the environmental parts, mainly those stressing the severity of the crisis and pointing out the problems, on every level, as well as how false and even dangerous the popular “solutions” are, can be well written and compelling, but others, mainly those presenting other solutions that are, at least in theory, readily available and expressing a belief that the tide may be turning, are less so. And, either way, a book focusing solely on those matters would have been preaching to the choir. Plus that a book that’s based on data quickly becomes outdated. And I must also mention how infuriating it is when Greta makes a point of arguing against those who dare to fight an even harder battle by raising the overpopulation problem, and doing so in a manner that’s so similar to that used by those who dismiss the climate crisis.

[RO:]
Nu-s sigur cat s-a pierdut in traducerea in romana a acestei carti, dar ar fi fost tradusa si daca as fi citit-o in engleza si titlul senzationalist in engleza, "Casa noastra arde: Scene dintr-o familie si o planeta in criza", ma face oricum sa am dubii legat de restul acelei traduceri, cu atat mai mult cu cat titlul original, "Scene din inima", pastrat in editia romana, se potriveste atat de bine. Pentru ca aceasta carte este atat de profund personala, incredibil de deschisa, dureros de sincera, incat fiecare cuvant trebuie sa fie din inima, si asta e ce o face sa merite citita.
Adevarat, face o mare diferenta daca partile personale sunt deosebit de familiare, poate cu atat mai mult daca doar problemele sunt, caz in care recunoasterea ca a avea statutul social, relatiile si averea necesare pentru a accesa solutiile de care astfel de indivizi si familii au nevoie pentru a ramane mai mult sau mai putin functionali este un privilegiu atat de rar poate fi oarecum linistitor. Si vad ca unii sunt deranjati de acest amestec de probleme personale si activism, si de neurodivergenta si criza climatica. Dar, din nou, adevarul e ca acele parti personale fac aceasta carte cu adevarat remarcabila.
Sigur, unele dintre partile despre mediu, in principal cele care subliniaza gravitatea crizei si arata problemele, la toate nivelurile, precum si cat de false si chiar periculoase sunt "solutiile" populare, pot fi bine scrise si convingatoare, dar altele, in principal cele care prezinta alte solutii care sunt, cel putin in teorie, usor disponibile si exprima o credinta ca mersul lucrurilor s-ar schimba, mai putin. Si, oricum, o carte care s-ar axa strict pe acele teme s-ar fi adresat doar celor deja implicati. Plus ca o carte care se bazeaza pe date devine rapid depasita. Si trebuie sa mentionez si cat de enervant e cand Greta tine sa-i combata pe cei care indraznesc sa lupte o batalie si mai dificila ridicand problema suprapopularii, si o face intr-o maniera care este atat de asemanatoare cu cea folosita de cei care resping criza climatica.

The comparison with The Silmarillion isn’t wrong or presumptuous, and in fact I’d say that the difference is that Fire and Blood is actually intended to be read instead of mentally “decompressed”. It may be a piece of the history of a fictional world, but it seems as “real” as it could possibly be. It even includes the use of multiple primary sources of questionable reliability in a manner that’s close to perfection, making for a well-intentioned but nevertheless somewhat unreliable narrator and plenty of times letting the reader choose what to believe. This is clearly Martin in his comfort zone, eschewing action, rushing through even the most impactful and extraordinary scenes, in order to focus on worldbuilding, and most of all on a particular aspect of it, the royal court and the noble houses and lineages.
That said, the level of detail, and I’d say the overall quality, improves gradually, as if Martin figured more things out and found better ways to present them as he went along, which he pretty much admits even in the included interview. On the other hand, the flood of names is pretty much impossible to keep track of, or at least it was for me, and after a while I just stopped trying and started skipping over pretty much any enumeration of names that appeared. And, as a comment on the particular mass market paperback edition that I read, they could have picked a font that’s easier to read at such small sizes…

Somehow, despite being even shorter and rushing through even fewer events, Doomdark’s Revenge: The Icemark Chronicles seems to fit together somewhat better than The Lords of Midnight: The War of the Solstice. Not that it’s really worth reading on its own, or that there’s any shred of depth or development, plus that the writing style shows that the author is trying way too hard, but it makes you more interested in what follows, feeling more like the beginning of a fairy tale than just the backstory that belongs in the manual of a game from that period. That said, the first thing that I actually noticed was the need for editing. And no, I don’t see the idea of staying true to the original as a valid excuse for the fact that nobody bothered to at least fix the mistakes when the game, along with this novella, got rereleased.

This is clearly intended to serve as the backstory for the game, not to be a novella to read on its own. Taken like that, as something that would belong in the manual of a game from those days, it definitely does its job and then some. But I didn’t read it because I’m just starting to play the game, so I’ll also review it as a regular novella or short story, in which case the impression it leaves is far poorer. While it can be somewhat engaging for the half an hour or so it may take to read, all the events and revelations it rushes through over such a brief span of time are basically just there to tick some boxes, and it may be said that this even applies to the one section where the author seems too determined to prove that he can use the sort of phrases that tend to be seen as typically belonging in books. So, again, do read it before playing the game, but don’t expect to be left with anything from it otherwise.

Considering how simple, for lack of a better term, the previous two books are, I most definitely didn’t expect the adventures of Marigold the barbarian to continue in this manner! I mean, The Vile Realm is actual fantasy, it takes place over two worlds, or perhaps even three, and hints at many others, some of the worldbuilding goes beyond what’d be strictly necessary, the antagonist is among the most powerful that any heroes could ever face, and Marigold’s character develops to an extent and in a direction that may be the most shocking of all, especially when there had been little reason to expect character development at all. And that’s not at the expense of the battles against overwhelming odds, which don’t only remain thrilling, but now even take place on multiple levels. 

Still, it took me a while to realize that I should be paying more attention, and I don’t know how much of the blame for that is the book’s and how much is mine. But the amount of suspension of disbelief required remains unreasonable, and a scope that suddenly expanded to a level that’s incomparable to that of the previous books only makes the presentation feel even more confining. Admittedly, it does make a limited amount of worldbuilding seem to go a long way, but it remains far too limited, while the moments when more details are poured in are information dumps that may seem difficult and maybe even unnecessary to follow. And I could have really done without the bad art, my mental images being much, much better. Plus that the conclusion doesn’t even feel like one, being too early, too sudden, with too little impact, and followed by far too many pages depicting the aftermath, again focusing strictly on the characters. 

Full disclosure: I received Kindred Straits for free, in a giveaway, but this hasn’t in any way influenced the opinions expressed in this review.

Since this is the first book in a series that’s a prequel for another, those who have read The Sum of Ages will have background information that I didn’t, and definitely a much better grasp of the terms used. Yes, some are explained to various extents as they appear and the author makes pretty good use of Olenka’s sheltered life to keep those sections from being jarring information dumps, but when you couple all of those terms and concepts with my lack of familiarity with both merfolk and the “real” cultures used as inspiration for that of the Bantay Tubig, I’d have quite clearly been stumbling around if I wouldn’t have read the included Glossary before anything else… Which makes me wonder why’s it placed at the end instead of the beginning. And also why’s it written as if by a character, which seems to only be an unnecessary complication and even stranger when that character doesn’t otherwise appear in the book and the story isn’t otherwise presented by a narrator.

Still, that choice can’t be why I continued to feel lost, especially during the first part of the story. I’m not saying that the writing is entirely to blame, some of it may be my problem as well, but much more could have been done to ease readers who are unfamiliar with such a world and society into it… And choosing a different name for Daisay or Diwala, or both, would have also helped a fair bit, since I kept confusing them, the moments when they were called Dai and Di only making it worse. It was much better after their paths split, but I sometimes found myself needing a moment to remember which was which even then.

Otherwise, the writing style could do with some more cleaning up. The handful of obvious mistakes are pretty easy to fix, but what may pose more of a problem is that many times I felt that the author was struggling to just squeeze his way past style errors in a very strict sense, such as a short sentence inserted to break up what would be a repetition, which doesn’t really change the impression, or all of the moments of uncertainty created by the different style used in the sections focusing on Daisay, which kept making me wonder whether various potential issues that I was noticing were intentional or mistakes. And there are a few things that don’t add up as well, such as the Bantay Tubig being able to hold their breath for 15 minutes but apparently blacking out after being choked for mere seconds during combat, or the number of guards on the ship, possibly also the skill level of the two sides, and quite clearly the number of things that the characters get away with, especially when it comes to the sisters… And to Olenka’s very presence.

That said, this is not a bad book. The choice of setting and culture is quite bold, a lot happens in a very short amount of time, the action can pull you along from one moment to the next, the bond between Olenka and Marikit can be quite endearing and some of the character development may also be worth mentioning… Even if it may be too sudden. What I’m uncertain about is how seriously the author intends this book to be taken, because it may work better if you take a cue from the behavior of the secondary characters, mainly the sisters and to some extent also Daisay, and assume it to be more lighthearted, but on the other hand it also tackles dark and potentially painful topics, most notably sex trafficking, but also mental health or discrimination, and presents protagonists that are obviously flawed, and in fact broken in one way or another.

To conclude, I definitely didn’t dislike Kindred Straits, and I’m sure that other readers will find it much more enjoyable, especially considering my lack of familiarity with this sort of setting and culture. But more care should have been taken to ease the readers into this world, to make various matters clearer and more fleshed out, and it’d probably be better if one path, whether darker or more lighthearted, would be chosen and adhered to… And I also found myself wishing for more commentary against the caste system and the discrimination based strictly on the kudori. Of course, Daughters of the Storm will inevitably steer in the direction of The Sum of Ages, so the answers to these questions are likely known to those who have read that series, but I’ll again state that I haven’t and, since this series takes place before that one, there should be no need or expectation to do so first.

Since I grabbed them for free and noticed that I can read them quickly and without struggling, I decided to continue with the adventures of Marigold the barbarian, now a chief without a clan, seeking vengeance. And I guess that Grim Work can be enjoyable if you pretty much unplug your brain and let yourself be carried away by such heroic tales that don’t shy away from graphic details and focus solely on the action, depicting characters who conquer overwhelming odds thanks to their incredible strength and fortitude, a solid dose of hero’s luck and a fair amount of stupidity on the part of their enemies. I do, however, recommend reading The Crystal Keep first, even though it was released later, since it offers context and some reasons to care. 

The problem is that Grim Work hardly does any of that, the few chapters that depict scenes which took place before Marigold’s solitary attack on the wizard’s tower only briefly showing how he ended up being the only one left and knowing who to take revenge on. Considering his hatred towards wizards and how many he supposedly killed, including some that, by his own admission, weren’t really guilty of anything other than knowing how to use magic, it’s hard to understand how come he and his clan left Cezare to dwell so close to their lands for what seems to have been quite a while. And the action itself requires a completely unreasonable amount of suspension of disbelief, not just because of what Marigold is able to withstand or even all of the hero’s luck, but also because of what he faces. Not that it’s badly written, but the substance is worse than the form, and likely not even enough to set the stage for some tabletop gaming session… Not that it could be, since it depicts a single “player character”. 

Despite being published after it, The Crystal Keep takes place before Grim Work and some reviews also state that it's better to start with it, so I did. Not that I expected much, in fact just having a quick look through what was available for free, searching for something that I could read quickly and finish before the end of the year, and deciding on it because it was shorter than the other two options I ended up with. But it did work out, being quite easy to read despite some paragraphs that struck me as being too long, and keeping me somewhat interested, without boring or annoying. It depicts only an adventure of a new chief of a barbarian clan, who rashly decides to take on a cult with only a few companions, but it does what it aims to do well enough, presenting the brutal struggle against overwhelming odds and not shying away from the graphic details.

It does tend to be too much for any reasonable suspension of disbelief, however, and I'm not just referring to the solid dose of hero's luck. If the party would have been presented as having magical or otherwise supernatural abilities, it might have worked, but as it is, the level of fortitude, being able to keep fighting so well and for so long while just about ignoring all the injuries, the conditions, the lack of sustenance, is just too much. Fans of the genre would probably expect and enjoy this far more, and the action can definitely pull you along, but I found myself making a note that the story should have ended halfway through, badly, and what happened after that, starting with the trope of some of the bad guys discussing the plot for little reason other than to be overheard by the protagonists, made me feel a need to roll my eyes quite a number of times. And some of the crudeness, not to mention the single-minded lecherousness of one of the companions, did at times also go over the top.