It's probably the best fantasy book ever written.

It's stunning in so many ways. It really reads like someone who has never seen any of the generic sub-LotR shit that passes for most fantasy and just started to write something from first principles of fantasy, namely literally anything is possible.

But is also a fantastically political and pointed and the whole book is about the scars and horrors of colonialism.
And the prose is beautiful.

Truly original, well written/plotted and has a purpose. Any one of those is a rare thing indeed in fantasy. All three is almost unheard of.

Echoes of [b:Heart of Darkness|4900|Heart of Darkness|Joseph Conrad|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1392799983s/4900.jpg|2877220] mixed with [a:Paolo Bacigalupi|1226977|Paolo Bacigalupi|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1375566282p2/1226977.jpg] and [a:David Mitchell|6538289|David Mitchell|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1409248688p2/6538289.jpg] - and maybe even a bit of [b:The Picture of Dorian Gray|5297|The Picture of Dorian Gray|Oscar Wilde|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1424596966s/5297.jpg|1858012]. Complicated and unwelcoming, there is nonetheless something here to draw the reader in. I don't know that I can say I truly liked it, but images and characters will remain with me for a while. 3.5 stars, rounded down.

After starting this book three different times over many years, I've finally managed the wherewithal to actually get through it and experience the story it has to offer, and I'm glad I did so because what a wonderful thing it is to be in conversation with a new book as you both figure one another out and understand the means by which you communicate. The way the story unfolds like a half-remembered dream, like a fairy-tale that has been passed down across generations, mixed with the traditional storytelling of other events keeps you on your toes, as you're never really quite sure what will happen or what actually is going on. And then you get to the end, realizing that the story has coalesced into something solid and real, and you can't wait to start the next book in the series.

And so that's what I'm going to do. Right now.

This was different. I brought the next two books from my local used book store and I'm definitely continuing the trilogy this year!


For so it is among those who shed lives every few years: they keep their deflated interior causeways, hold them running parallel with their current useable ones; ghost arteries, sleeping shrunken next to those that pump life. Hushed lymphatics, like quiet ivy alongside the speeding juice of now. Nerve trees like bone coral, hugging the whisper of bellowing communications.

Brian Catling, The Vorrh (The Vorrh Trilogy, #1)

Rarely have I so fervently wished for a book to hit another gear, even after 200 pages revealed a series of disjointed and confusing plot lines with no apparent common thread. Perhaps in the next 300 pages, these threads would conjoin? Alas. Hailed by some of my favorite writers as a visionary work of fiction, upon completion I'm hard-pressed to see what they felt. The Vorrh - the titular forest in the middle of Africa that is spoken of with fear and wonder - is little more than a tertiary character in a book that contains elements of too many different novels to work as anything other than a dismembered collection of short stories. Even when a few plot lines joined - and many simply never did - it felt forced and fleeting, as they quickly diverged once again with no discernible payoff. On several occasions when a break in chapters reverted to a boring character perspective I audibly groaned to myself. "Not Muybridge again. Ugh."

To be fair, there are elements of interesting stories interspersed here. A more substantial story about the timber industry's reliance on zombified workers with an apparent hive mind intelligence connected to the soul of the forest was interesting. As was the cat and mouse balance between Bowman and hunter, which contained greater potential than it reached. In more delicate hands, the story of Ishmael could have been expanded into a compelling tale of human nature. But even these plots felt flat and others collapsed completely.

A weird and rambling book that perhaps hides a great deal of meaning behind its convoluted and vague threads; but heck if I figured this one out.

This book is unique if anything. At times I loved it, and at times I was disappointed. The personal and subjective are drawn out so strongly in this book that at times I think the objective brilliance of this prose can be forgotten. No matter what an individual feels personally about this book, it should not be refuted that Catling created a master work of literature that is as engaging as it is bizarre and beautiful. Clearly not for everyone, but those willing to dare its pages will feel rewarded for taking a daring adventure as wild and mysterious as the Vorrh itself.

I'm just confused. I don't think I could say that I enjoyed reading this book, and although there were sections which were dark, eerie and fascinating, most of it was just bizarre. The characters all seemed unconnected and the plot didn't seem to follow and develop until right near the end. The multitude of characters was bewildering and I have finished it feeling underwhelmed and a bit disappointed!