Pornokitsch

The Prague Cemetery
Umberto Eco
Design by Suzanne Dean / Illustration by John Spencer
Harvill Secker

The Prague Cemetery’s cover successfully draws upon the typography, style and composition of the 1890’s. With its muted two colour palette the cover alludes to pulp fiction or early pamphlets and periodicals.The illustration draws the reader in with simple silhouettes: a shadowed “gentlemen” walks away from view, a line of smoke weaves stillness and silence into the atmosphere as the crow flies from image to intrigue.

For me it’s the costumed figure that is most fascinating, a “Coffin Joe”-like character disguised by in the cover of night. We are uncertain of his purpose for our view is distorted by the effects of smoke and Shadows. We are following him into the back streets of our imagination where logic and black magic play a game of cloak and dagger, a classic trait of noir - that of trust and betrayal. [Darren]

--------

From 16 January to 3 February, members of The Kitschies' judging panel will be discussing all of the 2011 finalists. Each review only reflects the view of that judge, and should not be taken as representative of the panel's collective opinion or final selection.

You can find the complete list of Inky Tentacle finalists on The Kitschies' site. Please join in the discussion below and on our Facebook page.

The painfully witty elevator pitch for Pornokitsch is something about finding genre fiction that we can share with our mothers. That is, the search for books that contain the imaginative weirdness that we enjoy, but come wrapped up in enough gravitas and obvious depth to be taken seriously by our dracophobic anti-robot parental units. (This is a pretty good variant of the “would you read it on a train?” test of cover art.)

Anecdotally, A Monster Calls passes the mother test with flying colours. This is a book we’ve both recommended to our mothers. In fact, it is a book that many of our friends have recommended to their mothers. Were I to hazard a guess, this is the most commercially successful of all the books on the Red Tentacle shortlist. A lot of readers have given it to a lot of mothers. And fathers. And brothers and sisters and friends and so on and so forth...

What is it about A Monster Calls that makes it so successful – so shareable?

A never-ending war rages on a far-off world. While battles rage at the front, hardened mercenaries and bloodthirsty assassins stalk the outskirts, doing the conflict's really dirty work: bounty hunting, kidnapping and murder. In the shadows, magicians manipulate a form of advanced biotech (now thought of as wizardry), perfecting their sinister arts in bloody ways. While two vast, implacable powers compete in unending war, most people focus only on the grubby mechanics of survival. 

God's War's protagonist, Nyx, is a perfect example of the hardened mercenary. And as a former bloodthirsty assassin, Nyx is two science fictional archetypes in one. When a mysterious alien ambassador interferes in the planet's political scene, and then goes suddenly missing, Nyx is hired (blackmailed, really) into hunting her down. Nyx soon realises that no one, on either side, can be trusted.

That all forms an enticing package, and Ms. Hurley is no slouch when it comes to writing a convoluted plot and crafting explosive action scenes. But God's War goes an extra mile or two with its hard-boiled female protagonist and its non-Western setting. 

Nyx is a woman, as are the other government-sponsored assassins, and virtually every authority figure around her. Men are cannon fodder: raised, sent to war and ground to pulp. Women, at least in Nyx's home nation, have assumed the control of society and taken over the reins. Nor are they in any hurry to release them. Similarly, the religious and linguistic aspects of society are carefully crafted to evoke the Islamic tradition, not the Christian. Although Ms. Hurley is careful never to mention the Qur'an or Muhammad (a point noted by Strange Horizons' Dan Hartland), the influences are clear.

That's all pretty great. But what pushes God's War even further towards the top of the pile? I'm not sure any of this matters.

Science fiction, as the "literature of ideas" (egad, I still hate that phrase) is often used as a sandbox for philosophical or anthropological ideas. What if our interplanetary colonies weren't founded by WASPS? What if every man died in battle? What if our reproductive organs were currency? There's no shortage of thoroughly-explored "what ifs" in science fiction, and, to some degree, Ms. Hurley is merely re-examining topics that have been already been thoroughly explored in prior generations of Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine.

God's War takes this for granted and doesn't rest on the laurels of its own progressive conceits. The protagonist is female, but, more importantly, she's strong, charismatic and as compellingly haunted as a Chandler detective. And the world isn't conceptually Judeo-Christian, but that shock pales in comparison to the first page of its immersive detail - it is dusty and atmospheric, with the Weird elements presented confidently and at a break-neck pace. A lesser book would have been proud of its underlying theses, but God's War doesn't settle. It marches on, realising the horrors of war, the pain of betrayal, the hurt of unrequited love and the nagging ache of the assassin's buried conscience.

The ostensibly ground-breaking, jaw-dropping ultra-progressive newness of God's War is important because it isn't important. God's War is remarkable not because it pushes the boundaries of science fiction, but because it is a novel in which those boundaries are already gone. [Jared]

--------

From 16 January to 3 February, members of The Kitschies' judging panel will be discussing all of the 2011 finalists. Each review only reflects the view of that judge, and should not be taken as representative of the panel's collective opinion or final selection.

You can find the complete list of Golden Tentacle finalists on The Kitschies' site. Please join in the discussion below and on our Facebook page.

The Last Werewolf
Glen Duncan
Design by Peter Mendelsund
Canongate

The cover of The Last Werewolf by Glen Duncan is elegant and understated with beautiful proportions. Each word and graphic is placed purposefully on the page in a balanced and deeply pleasing composition - the hardback is an object I want to hold and show off as I sit on the train.

It is smart in so many ways; it's clean and its economy of imagery leaves it refreshingly unfussy. The title and author's name are the same size font, equal, no unfathomable hierarchy here. It is also a well-chosen font with just enough serif to keep things interesting but not so much that it becomes a faff; contemporary but not so fashionable that it will be evoking cringes in six months. The texture of the paper gives a density to the deep blue-black; Anish Kapoor void-like, it rings of an eternal midnight sky. And, of course, the simple and evocative phases of the moon shining out. Full to new, graphic and eloquent, nothing more is needed. [Catherine]

--------

From 16 January to 3 February, members of The Kitschies' judging panel will be discussing all of the 2011 finalists. Each review only reflects the view of that judge, and should not be taken as representative of the panel's collective opinion or final selection.

You can find the complete list of Inky Tentacle finalists on The Kitschies' site. Please join in the discussion below and on our Facebook page.

The Miévillian mystique is such that I’m generally loath to write reviews of his books. I suspect – I know, in fact – that I’m not the only one. This reticence stems from many sources: his prodigious vocabulary, the text’s obvious depth, his literary reputation and even the critical competition. Unlike other genre titles, Mr. Miéville’s books are regularly poked by London Review of Books and other impressive institutions. Proper criticism, innit.

As a result, I'm intimidated. Hopelessly so. When I’m asked why I like China Miéville, I stammer; make jokes. I go shy. I know I missed things. Hell, I know I missed most things. What if I get it wrong? 

I know this is ridiculous. Mr. Miéville himself often tends towards the deconstructivist (a word I learned from his books) view and refuses to grant that his books even have a correct interpretation. There’s no way to read a novel wrong, and, even if there were, he'd be the last to say.

But the question isn't solely about being right, but having something to say at all.Given the surfeit of intellectual analysis of Embassytown, what can I, the beer-swilling Eddings fan, contribute to the conversation? Embassytown has been compared to Joyce, Augustine, Hegel and Brontë. What can my contribution be - “ZOMG spacemonsters"?!

In a word: yes. For progressive and intelligent, I suggest a visit to Anne’s review from last April. I’m going to take the road less-travelled and regard Embassytown solely as a piece of entertainment.

Eagle-eyed readers might have spotted that Douglas Hulick's Among Thieves is the sole representative from the land of sword-swinging, spell-slinging secondary world fantasy. In a banner year for doorstop fantasy, with (very) big names publishing (very) big books, it is somehow appropriate that the entire hooded man sub-genre is represented by this slender, cunningly-composed debut.

This isn't to say that the lumbering fantasy epic is dead (or even remotely unappreciated), but when looking at our criteria, the majority of these books aren't actually progressing the genre as much as revelling in its status quo (which, to avoid derailing the debate - is a pretty good status quo). Among Thieves contains all the swashbuckling escapist glamour and packages it together in a novel kind of way.

Among Thieves follows the adventures (misadventures, perhaps) of Drothe, a mid-level thief in a cosmopolitan fantasy city that's reminiscent of Scott Lynch's Camorr and Fritz Leiber's Lankhmar. From the opening pages, Drothe's world is clearly an astounding place, but, miraculously enough, the focus never drifts from the characters. Mr. Hulick teases the reader with Triumvirate Emperors, Gray Princes, warrior guilds and lost magic. But none of these heady concepts actually matter. Among Thieves is wisely limited to following Drothe's personal journey.

Rivers of London
Ben Aaronovitch
Illustration by Stephen Walter / Design by Patrick Knowles (TAG Fine Arts)
Gollancz

The cover is quite striking at first glance but the more you examine it the more you notice all the great little drawings. They not only represent parts of London, but also give a sense of not the London you know. It's worth taking another look at the cover once you've read it to pick up all the little hints to the story. It is probably one of the only book covers that I would happily hang on the wall at home. [Craig]

--------

From 16 January to 3 February, members of The Kitschies' judging panel will be discussing all of the 2011 finalists. Each review only reflects the view of that judge, and should not be taken as representative of the panel's collective opinion or final selection.

You can find the complete list of Inky Tentacle finalists on The Kitschies' site. Please join in the discussion below and on our Facebook page.

A lesbian slave-girl, unwillingly trained in the art of necromancy, falls in love with the reanimated corpse of her former owner. In her attempts to lift the curse laid upon her by the necromancer who trained her and escape the revenge of her reanimated former owner (who took her affections somewhat amiss), the heroine of The Enterprise of Death collects a small band of ne'er-do-well adventurers, including a down-on-his-luck artist and a brothel-owning, trigger-happy gunsmith.

And that's sort of what this book is about.

It's hard to write about The Enterprise of Death, because a straight-up summary of the plot doesn't do the book justice - the richness of its world and the depth of its characters are poorly served by any bald description of the book's action. Because The Enterprise of Death isn't really about what it's about. 

There's a character seeking to end a curse that's been placed upon her. There's a character seeking revenge. A character seeking love. A character seeking redemption. There are sword-fights, magic spells, wars, and magical creatures. Even a prince in disguise... sort of. These are all lovely, traditional fantasy hooks. But, somehow,The Enterprise of Death  takes place in the spaces between those high-fantasy beats. It's a picaresque jaunt through the lives of a group of people who are, more or less, trying to put off dealing with all the high-fantasy weirdness their lives have inexplicably accrued.

Something amazing happened when I read this novel: I experienced one of the quickest, most visceral reactions to a book I’ve ever had. I loved it. By the time I finished the prologue, (six pages), I loved it. (Another of the Kitschies judges reportedly found The Enterprise of Death so engrossing she read it while she vaccumed.) 

It contains, for example, one of the most thoughtful and mature meditations on rape and sexual consent I’ve ever seen in a fantasy novel. And it is fantasy, for all this – an alt-history high-fi down-and-dirty low-fantasy. And it is down and dirty; it is, in fact, totally disgusting. It’s Don Quixote meets Queer as Folk by way of Best Served Cold – with a dash of Martin-esque The Girl with the Pearl Earring and a sprinkling of Heironimous Bosch thrown in. It’s cheerful, roundabout, jovial, and unutterably grim. And funny as hell. I think I mean that literally.

Mr. Bullington writes with equal parts elegance and a puckish wit; he examines the meaning of art, the importance of history, the very nature of life and death with the same energy and enthusiasm he brings to his descriptions of the reanimated, skeletonized bandit who befriends his heroine. And oh, his heroine. Awa is a masterpiece of characterization; a smart, tough, brittle, funny, lusty, occasionally self-loathing, entirely self-sufficient woman who’s utterly impossible not to root for.

Bullington’s greatest accomplishment, however, is his constant subversion of expectation. He’s writing in a real-ish real world, and relies on his readers bringing their expectations – about the world, and how it works, and how it worked in the sixteenth century – with them. And he delights in subverting those expectations. And then subverting those subversions.

For a novel about a lesbian slave-girl with a goat’s hoof for a foot and the ability to raise the dead, The Enterprise of Death  is, ultimately, a wonderfully human novel about the very meaning of humanity

[Anne]

--------

From 16 January to 3 February, members of The Kitschies' judging panel will be discussing all of the 2011 finalists. Each review only reflects the view of that judge, and should not be taken as representative of the panel's collective opinion or final selection.

You can find the complete list of Red Tentacle finalists on The Kitschies' site. Please join in the discussion below and on our Facebook page.

For the next two weeks, Pornokitsch will be handed over entirely to The Kitschies. Anne and Jared will be reviewing the finalists for the Red and Golden Tentacles, while the Inky team will be taking turns going through all the shortlisted covers. These reviews aren't reflective of the judges' collective stance or final determination, but they are open, honest and (hopefully) a little bit provocative. 

Agree? Disagree? Love or hate a book or its cover? Please join in. This is our favorite part of the whole process, and we hope you enjoy it as well. Either leave your thoughts in the comments or share your own reviews and include the links. To help you plan your own reading, reviewing and arguing in advance, here's the schedule:

The Kitschies, presented by The Kraken Rum, are proud to announce the finalists for the year's most progressive, intelligent and entertaining works of genre literature. To qualify, a book must contain an element of the fantastic or speculative and been published in the UK in 2011.

The judges received 152 books from 38 publishers and imprints: big and small, pulp and prestige, literary and genre. We're incredibly grateful for the support of all the publishers and authors who took the time to submit their work.

As judge (and 2010 Red Tentacle winner) Lauren Beukes says, "2011 produced some remarkable novels. These are the ones that stood out for all of us, according to The Kitschies’ criteria: books that were inventive, playful and smart, packed with intriguing ideas, great characters and nudged at the boundaries of things, or overturned them altogether."

You can find the full details on www.thekitschies.com. 

Or below.