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Rating: 
Summary: A call to 1-800-BAD-BOOK
Review: *ring**ring* *click* "Hello, have I reached the DEATH OF ART tech support line? Great. I'd like to register a complaint about my copy of THE DEATH OF ART. Yes. The complaint is that none of it works. No, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a bell, not a whistle, and the only flashing lights are red. Everything that I expect from a novel utterly failed to engage. Is it possible I have a defective copy? "Yes, actually, I did try rebooting it. Several times. No, no, that didn't seem to help. In fact, that made things much worse. Every time I came back to the book after putting it down for a few hours, the situation had actually deteriorated. The characters were so vague that after leaving them for even a moment, I simply couldn't remember anything about them. I'd open the book again, stare at the page, and couldn't figure out who these people were, what they were doing, or how they got to be where they were. "Yeah, I did try flipping back to reread portions, but that didn't help either. No, I'm pretty sure it's not me; it's the way it's written. Well, okay, maybe it is me, but the way it's written doesn't do it any favors. Let me explain; do you have a copy in front of you? Open up to a chapter at random. Now, count the number of pages in that chapter. Five and a half? Okay, great. Now, go back and count the number of times that the scene changes. Seven changes, meaning eight different scenes? Okay, great. So, what do those two numbers tell you? Well, in virtually every chapter, the number of scene changes is greater than the number of pages. Almost every sequence starts and concludes in less than a single page! It's like a movie where no scene lasts for more than ten seconds. It's like reading a nervous breakdown! If they gave an award for Attention Deficit Disorder Theatre, this one would clean up. How am I supposed to give a damn about any of these people, when they don't even bother to show up for more than half a page? "Oh, and how on Earth was I supposed to keep track of anyone when a) they all speak and act totally alike, and b) they all seem to pop in and out of each other's identities. I dunno, maybe you could talk to your engineers and have them include a flowchart in future releases. Well, I think it would be a helpful feature. "Yes, I suppose it's very possible that some readers found the Quoth aliens to be interesting. But seeing as how I'm not a microscopic alien from a highly stupid plane of reality, I wasn't one of them. "And what's with the whole Roz "I love you, you ugly alien chick!" thing? And, could you tell me exactly how many oh-so-mysterious secret societies there were? Yeah, I didn't think so... No, no, I'm not blaming you; I couldn't figure it out either. Oh, and how cheap was it to have those major info dumps in the middle of the book? I mean, yes, we definitely need to have the plot explained to the reader, but it seemed a bit of a cheat to have a telepathic character having a mind-meld with the plot outline. "Well, to get back to the point of my call, it's obvious that my copy is defective and I'd like a refund. Oh, yeah, it's definitely been more than thirty days since I bought the book. But couldn't you make an exception? I mean, no, I don't consider "incomprehensible" and "turgid" to be prose features rather than bugs. "Well, in that case, I think I should inform you that this load is getting a mighty One Out Of Ten on Shannon Patrick Sullivan's ranking page. The only reason it's not getting a big old goose egg is that there isn't any actual physical scarring I can point to on my person. Emotional scarring, sure. I mean, the next time I fall into the tenth dimension, or see a 19th Century Frenchman suddenly mutate into something pointless, I'm going to have flashbacks from hell, I can tell you." (The writer of this review would like to thank the late, great MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 show, from which I shamelessly stole the format for this tech support call.)
Rating:
Summary: A call to 1-800-BAD-BOOK
Review: *ring* *ring* *click* "Hello, have I reached the DEATH OF ART tech support line? Great. I'd like to register a complaint about my copy of THE DEATH OF ART. Yes. The complaint is that none of it works. No, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a bell, not a whistle, and the only flashing lights are red. Everything that I expect from a novel utterly failed to engage. Is it possible I have a defective copy? "Yes, actually, I did try rebooting it. Several times. No, no, that didn't seem to help. In fact, that made things much worse. Every time I came back to the book after putting it down for a few hours, the situation had actually deteriorated. The characters were so vague that after leaving them for even a moment, I simply couldn't remember anything about them. I'd open the book again, stare at the page, and couldn't figure out who these people were, what they were doing, or how they got to be where they were. "Yeah, I did try flipping back to reread portions, but that didn't help either. No, I'm pretty sure it's not me; it's the way it's written. Well, okay, maybe it is me, but the way it's written doesn't do it any favors. Let me explain; do you have a copy in front of you? Open up to a chapter at random. Now, count the number of pages in that chapter. Five and a half? Okay, great. Now, go back and count the number of times that the scene changes. Seven changes, meaning eight different scenes? Okay, great. So, what do those two numbers tell you? Well, in virtually every chapter, the number of scene changes is greater than the number of pages. Almost every sequence starts and concludes in less than a single page! It's like a movie where no scene lasts for more than ten seconds. It's like reading a nervous breakdown! If they gave an award for Attention Deficit Disorder Theatre, this one would clean up. How am I supposed to give a damn about any of these people, when they don't even bother to show up for more than half a page? "Oh, and how on Earth was I supposed to keep track of anyone when a) they all speak and act totally alike, and b) they all seem to pop in and out of each other's identities. I dunno, maybe you could talk to your engineers and have them include a flowchart in future releases. Well, I think it would be a helpful feature. "Yes, I suppose it's very possible that some readers found the Quoth aliens to be interesting. But seeing as how I'm not a microscopic alien from a highly stupid plane of reality, I wasn't one of them. "And what's with the whole Roz "I love you, you ugly alien chick!" thing? And, could you tell me exactly how many oh-so-mysterious secret societies there were? Yeah, I didn't think so... No, no, I'm not blaming you; I couldn't figure it out either. Oh, and how cheap was it to have those major info dumps in the middle of the book? I mean, yes, we definitely need to have the plot explained to the reader, but it seemed a bit of a cheat to have a telepathic character having a mind-meld with the plot outline. "Well, to get back to the point of my call, it's obvious that my copy is defective and I'd like a refund. Oh, yeah, it's definitely been more than thirty days since I bought the book. But couldn't you make an exception? I mean, no, I don't consider "incomprehensible" and "turgid" to be prose features rather than bugs. "Well, in that case, I think I should inform you that this load is getting a mighty One Out Of Ten on Shannon Patrick Sullivan's ranking page. The only reason it's not getting a big old goose egg is that there isn't any actual physical scarring I can point to on my person. Emotional scarring, sure. I mean, the next time I fall into the tenth dimension, or see a 19th Century Frenchman suddenly mutate into something pointless, I'm going to have flashbacks from hell, I can tell you." (The writer of this review would like to thank the late, great MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 show, from which I shamelessly stole the format for this tech support call.)
Rating: 
Summary: Madness, Mutation and Mayhem in 1880's Paris.
Review: The Doctor is once again following the path of human psi-powers through history after a message from Ace alerts him to psycho-temporal activity in last-century France. Art students are succumbing to the mysterious Brotherhood who are twisting their bodies and using their minds to enslave an alien race and to gain power. The Doctor and his friends are quickly in the thick of things as events threaten to escalate out of control. Roz finds herself in mortal danger in the sewers beneath Paris, whilst Chris is mistaken for the Doctor by the French police. The Doctor must untangle the convoluted politics and motives belonging to several covert organisations and ensure that Paris doesn't get destroyed in the crossfire. Simon Bucher-Jones' first novel is a bit of a mixed bag. The characters and description are first rate, with the Quoth being another well-drawn culture from the latest set of books. The plot though is rather over-complicated with a confusing political background and an even more confusing web of allegiances. Purists may be disgusted by all of the visceral descriptions and events, but if you stick with it you will be rewarded with a good story.
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