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A review by seanquistador
The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers
5.0
Goodreads has been recommending this book to me for a long, long time. I finally took the plunge. To my profound dismay, I am not the inscrutable enigma I want to believe because whatever algorithm GR/Amazon is running, they hit the bullseye with this one. As a result, I'm afraid to look at any more book recommendations for fear it's a hole from which I'd never be able to climb out.
Time-travel historical magic books are a new genre for me, but if Tim Powers' work is any indication of the larger field, I think I'm going to enjoy it. I've always been a fan of history and the occult offers strange fascination--I appreciate science, but pretending there are things that can't be understood and are genuinely magical, and potentially hostile, is mesmerizing. We have all of that wrapped up in one with this book, and Powers proves a fairly strong writer in all respects, though his writing is not as sparse as more contemporary writers. Frankly, that's a relief.
The prologue and first chapter of The Anubis Gates begin in fairly low gear. With respect to the Egyptian magicians, Powers doesn't vomit up a pile of exposition to tell the reader everything they need to know. His main character, Doyle, is a stodgy historian researching a man with very little history--not really the heroic sort. But Powers is able to conjure up a convincing tale from these humble beginnings.
As a time-travel work, Powers operates in a fashion that should please readers by giving them a sense of intellectual prowess. I was able to guess Doyle's fate 1/3 through the book and see where his future would take him, more or less, though other mysteries remained and provided satisfying closure. Don't come to this work with an expectation of complete predictability. There are just enough to let you feel clever.
The circularity of the story worked so well for me. It's a closed loop. It's self referential and self contained. You can read parts of the book early on and see them realized later. Apparent backstory proves to be prelude, hinting at an outline of a story. In being self referential, it becomes clear as the mysteries unfold that all of the disparate parts, the failed wizardry in the prologue, the body-swapping Dog-faced Joe and his affliction, the time traveling, the gaps in knowledge about characters, all serve a purpose and have been fully considered by Powers rather than simply thrown into the mix because they sound interesting. Powers is able to give each quirky aspect of the tale a purpose, and that is solid writing you don't see often enough.
The book left no hanging threads that I can recall, which is something characteristic of contemporary authors more interested in creating a popular series than a complete story. There's no great harm in a series if you have a long story to tell, but don't write one because it's the best, proven mechanism for return readers.
Powers' plotting and writing are both top notch, but it's the latter that really stood out in our current era of light-hitting, weak or absent metaphor, thinly detailed, plot-heavy stories.
My opinion of a book sometimes rests upon what I read immediately before--I'm looking at you, Ancillary Justice. When the prior book is particularly disappointing, reading something even remotely improved is akin to walking out of a cave into the light. Dazzling and a relief.
As Keely pointed out in his withering review, sometimes the language can be wishy washy, though I think that point is labored, particularly in comparison to the previous book I read. This was one of many, many complaints I had with Ancillary Justice. In fact, I couldn’t shut up about the elements that bothered me, turning what I’d intended as a statement of disappointment into a miles-long screed. But if the writing and metaphors of The Anubis Gates were bland, they made the entirety of Ancillary Justice read like a first draft.
Compare this poem/song:
to this:
One of these writers either a) put more effort into their work or b) is just a better writer. The latter is so much more evocative. I will allow that Powers had history to draw from to flesh out his tale where Leckie had to invent everything herself, but the Spoonsize Boys are pure invention by Powers.
The whole of The Anubis Gates feels evocative and fully clothed and real and labored upon to make vivid environments, appropriate metaphors, and distinct characters easily distinguishable from one another. If you step back, you can see a yarnball of interconnected plotlines, and it's difficult to feel unimpressed.
In the end, the book took me on an atypical ride, which is rare enough, but it also did so in an articulate fashion that solved all of the mysteries it posed. A complete story. A clever story. And one I found well-written.
I think I've found a new writer to enjoy. And the best part of discovering a good writer late in their career is not having to wait for the next book. They're already out there, waiting for me. I think I'll try The Drawing of the Dark next.
Time-travel historical magic books are a new genre for me, but if Tim Powers' work is any indication of the larger field, I think I'm going to enjoy it. I've always been a fan of history and the occult offers strange fascination--I appreciate science, but pretending there are things that can't be understood and are genuinely magical, and potentially hostile, is mesmerizing. We have all of that wrapped up in one with this book, and Powers proves a fairly strong writer in all respects, though his writing is not as sparse as more contemporary writers. Frankly, that's a relief.
The prologue and first chapter of The Anubis Gates begin in fairly low gear. With respect to the Egyptian magicians, Powers doesn't vomit up a pile of exposition to tell the reader everything they need to know. His main character, Doyle, is a stodgy historian researching a man with very little history--not really the heroic sort. But Powers is able to conjure up a convincing tale from these humble beginnings.
As a time-travel work, Powers operates in a fashion that should please readers by giving them a sense of intellectual prowess. I was able to guess Doyle's fate 1/3 through the book and see where his future would take him, more or less, though other mysteries remained and provided satisfying closure. Don't come to this work with an expectation of complete predictability. There are just enough to let you feel clever.
The circularity of the story worked so well for me. It's a closed loop. It's self referential and self contained. You can read parts of the book early on and see them realized later. Apparent backstory proves to be prelude, hinting at an outline of a story. In being self referential, it becomes clear as the mysteries unfold that all of the disparate parts, the failed wizardry in the prologue, the body-swapping Dog-faced Joe and his affliction, the time traveling, the gaps in knowledge about characters, all serve a purpose and have been fully considered by Powers rather than simply thrown into the mix because they sound interesting. Powers is able to give each quirky aspect of the tale a purpose, and that is solid writing you don't see often enough.
The book left no hanging threads that I can recall, which is something characteristic of contemporary authors more interested in creating a popular series than a complete story. There's no great harm in a series if you have a long story to tell, but don't write one because it's the best, proven mechanism for return readers.
Powers' plotting and writing are both top notch, but it's the latter that really stood out in our current era of light-hitting, weak or absent metaphor, thinly detailed, plot-heavy stories.
My opinion of a book sometimes rests upon what I read immediately before--I'm looking at you, Ancillary Justice. When the prior book is particularly disappointing, reading something even remotely improved is akin to walking out of a cave into the light. Dazzling and a relief.
As Keely pointed out in his withering review, sometimes the language can be wishy washy, though I think that point is labored, particularly in comparison to the previous book I read. This was one of many, many complaints I had with Ancillary Justice. In fact, I couldn’t shut up about the elements that bothered me, turning what I’d intended as a statement of disappointment into a miles-long screed. But if the writing and metaphors of The Anubis Gates were bland, they made the entirety of Ancillary Justice read like a first draft.
Compare this poem/song:
My heart is a fish
Hiding in the water-grass
In the green, in the green
to this:
The Spoonsize Boys steal the dollhouse toys
while the cat by the fire is curled.
Then away they floats in their eggshell boats,
down the drains to their underground world.
One of these writers either a) put more effort into their work or b) is just a better writer. The latter is so much more evocative. I will allow that Powers had history to draw from to flesh out his tale where Leckie had to invent everything herself, but the Spoonsize Boys are pure invention by Powers.
The whole of The Anubis Gates feels evocative and fully clothed and real and labored upon to make vivid environments, appropriate metaphors, and distinct characters easily distinguishable from one another. If you step back, you can see a yarnball of interconnected plotlines, and it's difficult to feel unimpressed.
In the end, the book took me on an atypical ride, which is rare enough, but it also did so in an articulate fashion that solved all of the mysteries it posed. A complete story. A clever story. And one I found well-written.
I think I've found a new writer to enjoy. And the best part of discovering a good writer late in their career is not having to wait for the next book. They're already out there, waiting for me. I think I'll try The Drawing of the Dark next.