The Lesser Joke: book reviews and more

Book Review: Doctor Who: Timewyrm: Revelation by Paul Cornell

Book #64 of 2025:

Doctor Who: Timewyrm: Revelation by Paul Cornell (Virgin New Adventures #4)

The year is 1991, and the newly-canceled Doctor Who — what we now call “Classic” Who, to distinguish it from the post-2005 version — has been limping on in the form of these licensed novels continuing the story of the Seventh Doctor and his companion Ace. The first four installments of the series constitute a loose plot arc, although in practice they’ve been as discrete as the program’s own attempts at such larger narratives like The Key to Time in season 16 or The Trial of a Time Lord in season 23. They’ve also been of variable quality, but at their best moments have lived up to the presumed mission statement here to produce recognizable Whovian adventures almost like missing scripts that just happened to never get filmed.

All of that changes with Timewyrm: Revelation, which not only resolves that titular universal threat but pushes the franchise forward into strange and unsettling new territory. This is a deeply interior novel, taking place partly on the moon but primarily in the weird landscape of the Doctor’s own mind, riddled with manifestations of his prior selves and his guilt over fallen friends. The previous books have all had their cheeky fanservice easter eggs, but this one asks us to really reckon with what it means for the Time Lord to have gone on after losing someone like Adric or Sara Kingdom. It’s also a kind of afterlife: the characters have to pretty much die for their consciousnesses to reach it, and while the villain is in control, the setting is bluntly described as a hell where Ace is threatened with torture and tormented by an old childhood bully after being regressed to a young girl herself. In fact, it’s even more sinister than that, as he’s been brought over from an alternate timeline where he murdered her on the playground with a brick to her head.

Not all of this works, to be clear. Although the imagery is striking, in execution the action can sometimes feel bafflingly unexplained, and author Paul Cornell throws out bizarre concepts like a sentient church back on Earth without much justification or build-up. But it all comes together in the end, and would prove influential with both the following releases in this line and ultimately the modern TV revival too. The protagonists are challenged as never before, and the trust between them stretches nearly to a fraying point, with the Doctor stepping more firmly into the manipulative chessmaster characterization that had been established in the final years of the show. It brings an energy that the New Adventures had been sorely lacking, and leaves me genuinely excited to read on and see where the concept goes next.

[Content warning for gun violence, Nazis, racism, and gore.]

★★★★☆

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Book Review: Love, Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood

Book #63 of 2025:

Love, Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood

Romance is not my typical genre, and this particular example has too many issues for me to wholly enjoy, but it’s captured my attention enough that I’ll probably read more from author Ali Hazelwood someday. The good, to start with: her characterization of the people-pleasing heroine is top-notch, as is that woman’s arc of gradually learning to speak up for herself and the things that she truly wants. I also really like the academic setting, and could wince in sympathy at her travails as a precarious adjunct instructor, which I well remember from my own grad school days. I never made it onto the tenure-track job hunt myself, but those experiences likewise ring true to what I saw of others, and overall feel like a rare sort of literary representation.

As for the elements that don’t quite work for me: the initial premise here is already pretty contrived — the protagonist has a side career as a fake girlfriend, only for her two worlds to collide when the brother of a client turns out to be on the search committee that’s interviewing her — and the coincidences continue to pile up from there. (A second person who knows her as an escort has a surprise connection to the faculty, her new love/hate interest has a fraught history with her PhD advisor, etc.) There’s furthermore a lot of romcom-style miscommunication, specifically in the form of characters making assumptions and getting mad when they prove erroneous. And then once the enemies-to-lovers plot has sprung, the guy starts talking about deep love and marriage after just a few dates, which is a personal red flag for me.

The structure of the novel is strange, too. The two main drivers early on are the lead’s double life and her desired professorship position, both of which fall away by the midpoint of the story. I don’t find what follows to be as interesting or as cohesive of a narrative — although I suppose romance fans might think otherwise, as it’s only at that point that the action gets steamy.

This is one of those books where I spent a long time vacillating between a three- and a four-star rating, but writing out the review has helped me decide. While I can see what other readers have appreciated in this title, it never comes together into more than the sum of its flaws for me.

★★★☆☆

Book Review: The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Book #62 of 2025:

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (The Hunger Games #1)

[Previous review here, from 2011.]

Fun to revisit this first Hunger Games novel, well after the blockbuster movie franchise that turned it into a household name. Even setting all that aside to consider the 2008 title fresh, it’s clear that it’s something special right from the start. The premise, drawing from Greek mythology and bearing an apparently unintentional similarity to the earlier Japanese book Battle Royale, could not be simpler: a dystopian government, punishing the descendants of former rebels, requires them to send children as annual tributes to fight to the death for their oppressors’ broadcast entertainment. That unfolds with a sick Shirley Jackson-esque matter-of-factness, as we are pulled into the viewpoint of one Katniss Everdeen, a teenager who soon volunteers to take her younger sister’s place.

A lot of ink has been spilled over what generates a successful media property, and in my opinion, it’s a combination of character, story, and setting. The last of these is obviously important here: it’s why author Suzanne Collins has been able to achieve continued success with a couple prequel stories set in the tournament without her original heroine, and it’s why there are countless pieces of fanfiction out there depicting other rounds of the titular games. Much as Star Wars invites us to imagine further planets under imperial control or Harry Potter suggests magical adventures happening around Hogwarts even when the hero isn’t present, The Hunger Games establishes an expansive history for itself beyond the immediate text. Katniss’s involvement is in the 74th Hunger Games, and that suggestion of an existing context for her struggles provides a texture that helps elevate the material significantly.

Atop that foundation, it’s got an exciting enough plot, but it’s really the protagonist who makes the whole thing work (and so many of those fanfics or imitative book attempts flop). From the first page on, she’s a captivating construction — weary beyond her years, providing for her family, and risking execution by illegally hunting in the nearby woods before she’s even been tapped by circumstance and her own agentive choice for a role she’s unlikely to survive. As her journey goes on, she draws deductive inferences about the nature of the Capitol propaganda machine, and so is able to play up an expected image for the viewers at home for strategic benefits extending past the life-or-death competition in front of her.

This installment misses my highest rating by a slim margin, somewhat by personal preference. I’m not a big fan of the YA genre trope that over-explains basic concepts in a universe in lieu of naturalistically letting the reader learn as we go, and there’s a lot of that here, especially early on. There’s also a love triangle, though I suppose it’s handled better than certain egregious contemporary examples like Twilight. And finally, some of the stuff in the arena feels a bit silly and contrived for my tastes, like the genetically-modified ‘muttations’ or Peeta’s expert camouflage abilities.

Still: it’s a propulsive read and a great launch to the series, which will continue to develop the society, the growing resistance against it, and a few figures like President Snow who aren’t as represented in this debut. I look forward to rediscovering the sequels in turn.

[Content warning for cannibalism, alcohol abuse, forced underage nudity, and gore.]

★★★★☆

Book Review: Stephen King’s The Dark Tower: The Drawing of the Three: The Sailor by Robin Furth, Peter David, Juanan Ramírez, and Jesus Aburtov

Book #61 of 2025:

Stephen King’s The Dark Tower: The Drawing of the Three: The Sailor by Robin Furth, Peter David, Juanan Ramírez, and Jesus Aburtov

The five issues in this bound volume unfortunately represent the end of the Marvel comic book adaptations of Stephen King’s Dark Tower series — or at least, there haven’t been any subsequent releases since this last sprint came out in 2017. (As Roland would put it: there will be water if God wills it, say thankee sai.) It’s not the best place to leave the story in terms of overall resolution, but it does let us see the gunslinger finish gathering his band of ka-tet companions for the larger Tower quest, I suppose. Or everyone except Oy the billy-bumbler, that is.

Despite retaining the Drawing of the Three subheading, this installment adapts the first half of the following novel The Waste Lands, in which Roland, Eddie, and Susannah battle the giant cyborg bear Shardik and Jake re-enters the narrative to make his way out of some mind-bending experiences in New York and eventually join their party in Mid-World. That’s a fun plot in the original book, and it translates well enough to the art style here, though it doesn’t necessarily add any further dimensions to the material as these comics have sometimes done in the past (to admittedly mixed effect).

It’s disappointing that the project stops here, and I’m still not sure why this section wasn’t included as part of the Drawing of the Three omnibus, but if you’ve read this far — especially if you’re a fan of the King books who knows where things develop next — I do think it’s another solid treatment that’s generally worth checking out.

[Content warning for gun violence.]

This volume: ★★★☆☆

Overall series: ★★★☆☆

Volumes ranked: The Gunslinger Omnibus > Beginnings Omnibus > The Drawing of the Three: The Sailor > The Drawing of the Three Omnibus

Book Review: Society of Lies by Lauren Ling Brown

Book #60 of 2025:

Society of Lies by Lauren Ling Brown

Overall a substandard academic thriller. The timeline unfolds across three different periods, but it’s only really interesting in the last one, in which a woman investigates the recent death of her sister. In alternating chapters, the other sections detail the dead girl’s activities as a Princeton student in the months leading up to her murder and the main heroine’s own time on the same campus, a decade earlier. In theory, these plot strands should weave together and surprise us with regular revelations from one part of the story that have implications for the others. But in practice, it’s a lot of petty dramas and hedonistic blur, without enough driving focus or distinction between the two protagonists’ respective college experiences.

The setting is also a letdown. Debut author Lauren Ling Brown is an alumna of the school herself, but she brings little specificity to the narrative in the way that, for example, Leigh Bardugo does with her own alma mater in Ninth House. The fictional secret society here is rather ludicrous too, in both its absurd degree of corruption and the open flaunting of its members’ group rings, resort home, email listserv, and so on. It’s just too cartoonish to take seriously, although the predatory faculty advisor is certainly a nasty piece of work.

The writer is on better footing capturing the #ownvoices aspect of racist microaggressions directed at the characters for being Black and Asian biracial, which I assume is what caught the attention of actress-activist Reese Witherspoon for her book club. But that’s a pretty minor element and ultimately not sufficent to carry the rest of the novel.

[Content warning for gun violence, gore, drug and alcohol abuse, domestic abuse, and threatened violence against children.]

★★☆☆☆

Book Review: Tsalmoth by Steven Brust

Book #59 of 2025:

Tsalmoth by Steven Brust (Vlad Taltos #16)

We’ve gone back to near the beginning of the protagonist’s timeline again, in the days when he was still a low-level Jhereg crime boss. It’s a productive visit, however — not so much for the immediate plot, which is a very typical Taltos affair, but for the fact that we find him in the midst of his lovestruck courtship with Cawti, his future ex-wife. This is an era that author Steven Brust has largely skipped over in the past, moving the couple from initial attraction to estrangement between novels. It’s nice to finally see the characters together and happy, despite knowing (unless you’re reading this series in chronological order or otherwise skipping volumes, I suppose) that it doesn’t last.

As for the story, it’s fun and convoluted as usual too. The antihero makes for an amusing detective this time, as his main motivation is simply to recoup his losses from a man who was killed by unknown parties while owing him a modest sum. Vlad repeatedly shakes down people who could easily settle up for that amount as he investigates the murder, but because none of them believe he’s really just after the money, they instead draw him further and further into their own complicated schemes and wind up toppling everything they’re trying to accomplish.

There’s an odd writing choice to have the narrator claim not to know basic words like “thwart” and “catharsis,” which is a meathead characterization that’s never been true of him at any age before. I have to assume it’s intended as a running joke rather than representing either a retcon or a mistake, but it feels strange that it goes entirely unaddressed within the text (unlike a similar apparent plot hole regarding his knowledge of certain matters that does eventually get called out and explained). That aside, though, this 2023 installment is overall a fine addition to its sequence.

[Content warning for gore.]

★★★★☆

Book Review: The Night Guest by Hildur Knútsdóttir

Book #58 of 2025:

The Night Guest by Hildur Knútsdóttir

The main problem with this horror novel is that it’s simply far too short. The heroine’s escalating situation is relatively gripping, but the root cause is still pretty unexplained at the end and the conclusion is hugely underwhelming. While I’m sure there’s some cultural variation in literary styles and that the story reads differently in the original Icelandic, I haven’t found this translation to be a very satisfying experience.

As for the premise: the protagonist wakes up aching and fatigued every morning, and although medical tests show nothing unusual, she soon discovers that she’s sleepwalking for long distances at a time — and that her other self is acting out in increasingly violent ways. She eventually comes to believe that the true perpetrator is somehow the ghost of her dead sister, but there’s no indication of why that would be happening or what the restless spirit might be trying to accomplish.

So much of this feels like it could have been the outline draft for something stronger, but there are too few details (like the character’s specific relationship with her lost sibling) to really flesh it out. It’s ultimately a head-scratcher, despite some striking imagery throughout.

[Content warning for disordered eating, violence against animals, sexual assault, and gore.]

★★☆☆☆

Book Review: Féonie and the Islander Regalia by Victoria Goddard

Book #57 of 2025:

Féonie and the Islander Regalia by Victoria Goddard

A lovely little companion story to author Victoria Goddard’s cozy fantasy novel The Hands of the Emperor. Near the end of that longer work, the protagonist Cliopher Mdang is honored with a ceremony requiring he dress in his finest clothing, and the servant in charge of his wardrobe surprises him with an outfit in the traditional styles of his far-off island homeland, rather than the imperial court where they live. This is the short tale of how she thought of that idea, presented it for His Radiancy’s approval, and traveled to the Vangavaye-ve to consult with Kip’s esteemed kinfolk and learn their techniques.

It’s a glorified deleted scene, but it holds together well as a self-contained novella, fleshing out the titular heroine (and to a lesser extent, the guardsman Ato) and giving us a different view of the Lord Chancellor through her eyes. We especially get to see just how much his policy of a universal basic income throughout the empire has helped poorer families like hers, and how grateful she feels about that. She also engages in some wild speculation regarding the exact nature of the private relationship between her boss and the emperor, which is simply delightful to observe. And of course, the whole plot is suffused with the gentle hopepunk tenderness that marks the parent text and most of this extended saga at large.

While probably not the best entry point into the Nine Worlds setting, it’s a treat for returning readers that further enriches our understanding of the series and a few of its peripheral characters.

[Content warning for mention of sexual assault.]

★★★★☆

Book Review: Victorian Psycho by Virginia Feito

Book #56 of 2025:

Victorian Psycho by Virginia Feito

As the title suggests, this 2025 novel is a nineteenth-century riff on American Psycho, in which a deranged governess gleefully recounts her violent impulses and crimes, leading up to her slaughter of the entire household over Christmas. It’s darkly funny, depending on your taste for gratuitous satirical carnage. To share an illustrative example, at one point the protagonist slices the neck of a visitor’s infant, then runs down to the local village to abduct another child, which she swaps for the first. The mother doesn’t notice anything amiss, and the dead baby is mailed to a nearby convent.

How amusing you find such shock humor and gore probably determines how well you’ll appreciate this book. Personally, it’s not quite my thing, and I want more from the main character than pure impulsive amorality. I’m not opposed to antiheroes in general, but I do prefer when they have some sort of legible motivation or code — the difference between Dexter Morgan and Villanelle on Killing Eve, for instance. This heroine is too much like the latter, and while there’s comedy in seeing how ill-prepared Victorian society is for identifying and containing someone of that nature, it’s a pretty thin and repetitive plot. Two apparent twists near the end were also easy to predict, and I can’t decide whether they were meant to be or not.

A certain kind of reader will eat this up, I’m sure, and I suppose it’s effective enough at what it’s trying to do. Still, I can’t say that I’ve entirely enjoyed the experience myself.

[Content warning for incest, domestic abuse, and violence against animals.]

★★★☆☆

TV Review: Farscape, season 4

TV #14 of 2025:

Farscape, season 4

This is the end of Farscape proper, though I still need to watch the sequel miniseries. Setting aside the shocking cliffhanger, which I’m sure would have been pretty frustrating if no continuation had ever come along, it’s another solid run that doesn’t quite live up to the series at its best. The penultimate episode, for instance, both introduces and then destroys a species of flower that somehow powers the entire Scarran war effort — hardly a triumph of long-term plotting!

This season also shakes up the cast yet again, with Jool departing the Moya crew, Noranti (introduced late in the previous year) surprisingly sticking around, and newcomer Sikozu joining her. The villainous Scorpius himself also comes aboard, which feels like a logical progression of his arc and allows for some fun tensions regarding his true motives. But the two women don’t really have a chance to establish and differentiate themselves beyond the roles on the ship they’re broadly taking over: Noranti for the mystical Zhaan and Sikozu for the exasperatedly skeptical Jool.

It’s a less ambitious story than the split structure of season three, but it does have certain nice developments like Crichton’s return to Earth and reunion with his loved ones there. I especially appreciate that that isn’t saved for the big dramatic ending, but rather arrives early enough to fuel a few interesting plot repercussions and character moments. Nevertheless, I would say that this is a looser installment that never manages to hit consistent greatness, and I hope The Peacekeeper Wars functions as a more satisfying conclusion.

[Content warning for gun violence, torture, rape, and gore.]

This season: ★★★☆☆

Overall series: ★★★★☆

Seasons ranked: 2 > 1 > 3 > 4