Monthly Batch.
The Tale of the Heike: Beauty in Autumn. Do you believe in miracles? I'm chewing my way the body of epic literature, trying to find that fix I got from the Illiad or the Worm Ouroboros, never daring to dream that something could surpass it. The tale of the Heike is an epic tale of tragic beauty set in 12th century Japan. For decades the Heike have reigned supreme, filling the ranks of the imperial bureaucracy with their sons and daughters after they have dealt a humiliating defeat to their rivals, the Genji, in a battle for supremacy. Witness now the evil days of their reign, as the Lord Kiomori grows ever more bold and tyrannical amidst the growing unrest. Where the Illiad focuses on male puissance (and lion metaphors) to an almost obsessive degree, the Heike presents a rich tapestry of tragedy, loyalty, honor and hubris. Even the basest villains have families, things to lose, ruminate, mourn. Great men die in their beds, renounce the world or take their own lives in despair. Shrines are set alight in the conflagration, and singular beauty is destroyed. Never do we lose track of the fact that the war that is fought is a civil one, and the destruction falls upon the deserving and the innocent alike. Richly bedecked with tangents into bodies of myth reaching all the way across the Pacific into China and India, to experience it is to let go and to immerse oneself in folklore. All of this mixed with an esoteric, completely impenetrable wash of higher powers in the form of countless regional deities and the Eight? Buddhas that make up the inscrutable hand of the divine in this completely absorbing drama. The Penguin edition has images of the original 12th century artwork, 4 geneology charts, 5 maps, a glossary, a cast of characters and just about everything else a boy could dream of to help you experience this masterpiece.
Orphans of Chaos by J.C. Wright; Surprisingly readable take on the whole magic-kids-in-a-boarding-school trope that comes across as a more action-packed, more well read Neil Gaiman impression. Amelia Underwood and her four siblings soon discover that they are not ordinary children and before you blink people are moving through the fourth dimension and fighting the pernicious enchantments of the evil Mrs. Wren or the lewd designs of the groundskeeper Mr. Grendel. Wright does not hesitate to vomit an entire library's worth of classical mythology onto the pages in between the juvenile buffoonery and dubious sex jokes but the whole feels surprisingly wholesome and has a real emotional core and sense of adventure to it that is really quite breathtaking. Comes complete with its own wacky powers system (I don't know when making your own magic system became a trend in fantasy), several metric tonnes of Greek Mythology and a surprising amount of sexually risque content, making it almost feel like I am reading an animu. Fugitives of Chaos, its sequel, is even better, ramping up the tension and the stakes while never losing its spirit of adventure.
The Night Circus: Gaaaah. A vain foray into urban fantasy dug up this bit of flotsam. Endless chapters of fluff and blithering with circuses and tarot cards do not compensate for an aenemic plot and stilted dialogue. At around page 150 with the train nary having left the station I decided I have too much to live for and am too beautiful. A magic circus happens. I loathe light-hearted fluff pieces and my heart is a lump of coal. Avoid.