Showing posts with label steven erikson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label steven erikson. Show all posts

Wednesday, 19 July 2017

Memories of Ice

Nearly a week after having finished 'Memories of Ice' the 3rd book of the 10 part Malazan books by Steven Erikson, I still have difficulty marshalling my thoughts to tell exactly what the book was about.
It was awe-inspiring in the most astronomical sense of the word.
To say that it was ice, with shards of sharp razor like chill edged with searingly painful and apathetically violent moments would be a tad bit tepid way of putting things.
A most complete macrocosm that is actually a journey that one must undertake, sentence after sentence that unfolds into most unthinkable most staggeringly extravagant stain of panoptic blots akin Rorschach test.

Plots inside of plots, sub plots that grip you in a vice, flashbacks of eons past interwoven with present day tapestry, sutured in beautiful grotesque, drawing picturesque realms of such poetic disharmony and chaotic pity that it'd leave your eyes sinking back into your heart to avoid reading anything further to stave off the pain and then back again in their sockets because they've been reined in by invisible threads to each word that flows like liquid ache.

Shocking moments delivered with bulls eye precision that'll have your face contouring like molten wax and realizations throughout the book that might widen your eyes to the point of decreasing hair line.

The writer refuses to hold back onto any emotion putting them on a megaphone of sorts that drain your heart and often fill it with love, longing and lamentations; forcing your head to trace back to all that you remember from 'Deadhouse gates' to realize with a smile and a shiver that all these events are happening simultaneously..the gods' indeed are crazy, bent on wrecking, wracking and full of wrath.
What can I say about the poetic scale of this book? A dismal somberness to each character, elevated with that elegiac backstory told in words so prophetic which only this writer can deliver with an unmitigated swagger that becomes these books.

You'll fall in love, you'll fall in hate and then that humbling moment of tear jerking benevolence when all you'd forgotten of mercy is brought to the forefront and your every emotion of shortsighted malevolence will seem pathetic.

If this is just the third book in the series then what comes next will have to be read with a defibrillator present in the room.


Friday, 26 May 2017

Deadhouse Gates

A compendium of emotional thesaurus was 'Deadhouse gates'. 
If roller coasters could be published, they'd be this book. To say that it was fun, intelligent, invigorating would almost be as real and peripheral as saying water is tasteless.

Deadhouse Gates was a dynamo, constantly charging itself into gears of fantastical lengths and zooming inside of a reader's system combining pangs of anxiety, laughter, confusion, confoundment, marvel, fear, revulsion, hatred, love. It was shocking, sad with the ability to make you want to break a pane of glass with your head or weep your eyes out to the point of dehydration.

Imagine cramming a galaxy of characters, stories, relations, connections into a coherent thought and putting it out into words and paragraphs so spellbindingly delicious that to miss out on them would be almost criminal. A surge of crack or should I say 'durhang' like ability seeping out of this book that numbs a reader to all happenings in the real world, for the world of Deadhouse Gates and its characters feels so wonderful that you'd almost wish you were on board, applauding your favourite characters to ascension. 

The description of events that would be impossible to put in meaningful words let alone interesting ones were so arresting, all consuming that it was flabbergasting. 
So on point and riveting were all the battle scenes, the description of military tactics, aches of sorcery and contused pangs of losses that you'd be tearing your hair out in anticipation or yelling out words of encouragement to characters of such remarkable bravery that'd  leave you humbled and cowering with disgust at your own self.

Deadhouse Gates is easily one of the best books out there and so complete is it in itself that you can forgive yourself for not reading anything ever.