Post by hynreck on May 2, 2016 18:54:20 GMT
It’s time I tackle this review. Like the one I did for The Dragons of Lencia, I must admit that my enthusiasm for this task isn’t high. It’s another book that I dearly wanted to like but ended up frustrated with, most of the time. Again, it isn’t that there isn’t anything good about it. There is. It’s just so much of it seemed to have gone wrong… Maybe I’m overly harsh and critical, but I will lay my points down, and then you may judge for yourself.
Let’s get some trivia out of the way first: I got this book early on in my discovery of new Lone Wolf products being put out by Mongoose Publishing a few years ago. I bought this one right alongside The Dragons of Lencia, and I’m not quite sure which one is supposed to come first, or was published first (Google tells me it was published in 2008), but both series (it is also, like DoL, the first part of a trilogy now unlikely to be completed) share space and time elements (obviously Magnamund) and threats, which affect (more or less) each other (enough parenthesis already (are you crazy? I love parenthesis, you just got to keep the rhythm)).
With those basic info out of the way, there is also another thing that I’d like to put aside and not dwell on any further but is still deserving of its own paragraph: typos. Over the years, Mongoose has become quite infamous for doing basically no proof-reading of the work they’ve been releasing, at least in the world of Magnamund (can’t comment on their whole office, I never bought any of their other products). As the projects spiraled out of control it became more and more obvious, with giant mistakes like The Maters of Darkness (The Masters of Darkness) on display for everyone to see on the book’s spine and typo-riddled RPG supplements. While The Dragons of Lencia had its fair share of mistakes, I found them negligible. After all, I find typos in nearly all the books I get my hands upon: it’s really hard to get them all, just like Pokémon. But Greed and Glory is simply so infested with typos (and by that I mean usually strange stuff lykë th•/♥t) that I found myself frustrated on a level above the usual dealings with stupid characterisation and plot holes. That being said, whoever picks up a copy in the future, be warned. Leave the spellcheck function of your brain out the door.
Now that I got this off my chest, I can talk about what’s good and bad in Glory and Greed. And I figure, let’s talk about the good first as it’s going to be brief and make a break from all the negativity (contrary to popular beliefs, my soul does not feed on negativity - only on Garmonbozia).
One positive thing that I would say this book’s got going for it is that there are no goddam Kai Apprentice/Master/Sun God anywhere in sight. I know, this is probably a controversial topic; after all, some like it Kai. But let’s face it, Glory and Greed’s chances of stirring controversy are slim to none. And let’s face it some more, when we talk about Magnamund, the main subject of attention this side of Naar’s large array of buddies are Kai Lords (if not the one in particular). So it’s not like we are lacking Kai stories out there. While I would never spit on another go as a Kai (it’s the main draw, after all), I can still appreciate that there are no Kai in this story, and that it takes place far away from Summerlund in another culture altogether. Magnamund is vast and full of interesting sights, Joe Dever’s worldbuilding is exceptional (I think we can agree on that) and exploration should definitively be encouraged. It’s interesting to see different aspects developed from the usual Kai related stories and to view those aspects through some foreign points of view.
Unfortunately, I’ve just about finished listing all that’s good in Glory and Greed. So alright, it’s not that there’s nothing good about the story beyond what I mentioned. There’s some interesting story elements going on, though nothing earth-shattering to be brutally honest (like some of those lesser Marvel movies, perhaps?), but! (and how’s that for an awkward segue?) if there was to be a controversy about this book, it would be the sheer amount of clumsiness in putting said story together, apparently made by an author who seems to think that characters behaving like idiots are charming.
First, and avoiding spoilers for the few out there still interested (and because it’s been so long since I’ve read it, I’m afraid going into details might mislead the few of you due to faulty memory/lack of interest, so I’ll stick to the broad lines), it’s good to note that this story is in fact two stories, following different characters (duh) that never get to interact with each other here. Possibly they could have done so in the sequel, I guess, but I doubt we will ever find out.
Those stories are somewhat linked in subject matter, mostly by the protagonists being unknowingly pitted against different factions of the same forces of evil - or in the case of two of them, just walking blindly into enemy territory - and every chapter break we’ll switch side, interrupting one story to continue with the other. It can be a little distracting, or perhaps more annoying if you happen to hate one side more than the other, but that’s still far off from being an idiot move, especially if we do get to reunite the two stories somewhere down the line, right? Lots of books do that after all.
But what is truly annoying and more of an idiot move is how both stories are populated by stupid, unlikable characters (well, in story B it’s more like a population of two, but hey, they make up for it big time, don’t worry) with which it is almost impossible to identify with. It is quite exasperating and exhausting for us readers to have to leave some stupid characters behind in one thread only to find ourselves reunited with another bunch, just as bad, in the other. Can’t we catch a break?
Not likely. It’s not just characters being jerk to each others and making bad decisions that make it such a frustrating experience; Game of Thrones did/does this and it’s turning out great most of the time, right? Plus, real life is peppered with idiots and bad decisions are our daily cross and nail, after all. No, it’s also a matter of timing on the author’s part. Or perhaps I should say, in my limited vocabulary, that it is more like the author wants to give us insights on the different character’s emotional state but doesn’t quite know when to do it, or if it’s appropriate at all during certain scene. Or if he should simply drop the subject altogether.
Here, I’ll give you some examples, but be warned of my hazy memory, so details will be light but it’s kinda great for avoiding spoilers, right? Cough. Right. Know that I cannot remember the name of the characters anymore for the life of me (small blessing?), but I’ll put here two examples that I can still remember (somehow); one from story line A, and one from story line B. Let’s do this before I chicken out.
So in story line A, the main character, a spoiled princess-type daughter of a Senator (or some such) is escaping her doomed city via an extensive network of underground tunnels and caverns, along with hundreds of refugees. There’s danger behind them, in front of them, wounds festering and starvation, tragedy all around, you name it. While going from one problem to the next, she finds time to ponder over love and similar romantic notions because of a boy she barely knows who seems to be attracted to her (is he even? I can barely remember). Bear in mind that she’s also newly been appointed as the leader of this sad bunch of survivors. Appointed by Ishir, no less.
While it’s not impossible that she would have such ideas, it is however unlikely that anyone put through such an ordeal would find the time to dream of love or anything else but the danger or suffering at hand. I don’t know about you, but the threat of death at every turn has a tendency to put me off on such things; hell, getting a stomach ache while traveling on the train completely annihilates any kind of thoughts I could have on anything, so I imagine being pursued by Agarashi plus any other number of calamities would be quite enough to do the trick. I’m basically saying it should be the same for fictional characters as for us, especially in a type of fiction that chooses to lay very close to reality as we know it. I mean, fine, make the spoiled princess that type of character if you want to, but as a reader I can’t help but to want to scream at her (and the author) to put aside such a waste of time and focus on the here and now, on the life threatening situation dangling over her head (and everybody else’s head). Otherwise I just don’t buy it and you’ve lost my interest.
It’s even worse in story line B. That story is mostly about a couple, in a matriarchal society where, for a change, I guess, men is the second rate citizen. This particular couple is having an arranged marriage crisis where the woman is very unhappy of the choice imposed on her, even though he seems of good breed. So she decides that she will push him to his limits to force him to leave her, up to a literal push down some kind of ravine if needs be. Because she’s also evil, you see (at least she looks that way, I blame the author, see?). Oh, it’s worth mentioning, I guess, that they are part of some sort of desert tribe scouts/hunters, so they walk around a lot carrying weapons (I sometimes wish my work was like that, instead of sitting all day in an office). And death is definitely something that could happen in the wild of Magnamund. I mean, more so than here on Earth, except notoriously dangerous Australia, of course.
Him, on the other hand, is some sort of masochistic dude that falls hard for his tormentor, so much so that he decides he’ll carry on with her abuse no matter what, no matter how unsubtly she tries to send him off to the afterlife. This psychological tug-of-war ongoing throughout this branch of the story is directly responsible for sending them both to their doom, as even after they have found what they were looking for - and now running seriously low on cheese sandwich - they pursue ahead down some tunnel leading straight to hell, hoping to find a source of water (and/or cheese sandwich, you never know (psst, I’ll let you in on a little secret, they’ve only got grilled cheese sandwich down there, so they are bitterly disappointed)).
You see, the decision of continuing was all on the woman, and even when the point of no return is reached, she refuses to turn back because her unwanted man is still keeping up, so she decides that if he can make it without breaking, so can she, and he decides that he will keep going, even if it means death, because he need to show her how worthy he is of her love. That’s kind of already stupid right there right?
Even if you disagree with my profound statement, I, on the other hand, will have to agree that while it is a stretch of the imagination, it’s not impossible. It might even be an interesting story unto itself to witness how stubbornness in a human being can be a flaw as much as a quality and so lead to failure. I’ve read/seen those stories before. But when those same characters suddenly face an underworld full of giant Lovecraftian horrors starring them right in the face, noisy, nasty and counting in the hundreds (if not more, can’t be sure), you’ve just got to wonder if the author is being serious in trying to make you believe that the male character is so deep in thoughts about all things existential concerning his dear love(!) that he can’t notice the Cthulhus writhing underneath him or the melting brain of his beloved who’s literally going crazy from the revelation. Sigh. But by that tragic point the book is nearly over, so what can one do? Chuck it in the fireplace? Might as well struggle a little bit more and finish it.
Well, that being stated, I think I’ve just about exhausted all the energy I could give to produce this review. All my goodwill. The awkward moments found in this book are too numerous just to be lone mistakes or oversight; they point toward a flaw from the author that needs to be addressed, and if no-one (on the off chance) ever pointed it out to him I’m doing it now (of course he’d have to read this review first, which is not a given).
Still, since I haven’t yet read anything else from Mr. Hahn, I don’t want to push this any further than needs be; it’s entirely possible that this flaw, this strange willingness to give insights into the character’s psychology at the worst of time, this out of step rhythm if you will, might have been a one-off that only occurred in this particular book. Hell, for all I know, Mongoose and its notorious reputation of being unable to proof-read might have been as much responsible for this as the author: a little feedback from a few readers before publishing might have permit him to adjust the content, thus improving the story tenfold. And as I mentioned at the beginning of this too long review; as proven by flagrant mistakes such as symbols slipping past final approval (whatever the real name), nobody did took the time to read the book, because how can you miss something like this? ⓳∞∆↖ ҉ ϾϿ lol boobs. I mean, come on! If you don’t catch this while skimming over the text, something’s wrong with not just your eyes, you know. Just enough proof that nobody bothered to even flip the pages.
In closing, I’ve only really been able to finish reading this painful book because I’m a diehard fan of Lone Wolf and too curious for my own good. Part of me does feel bad for wasting time on this wreck and now I feel the same having taken way too long producing this review, which I realize isn’t that lovely or constructive. In the near future I’ll stick to gamebook reviews that shall be, if anything else, more interesting. Until then, just remember, for diehards only!
Let’s get some trivia out of the way first: I got this book early on in my discovery of new Lone Wolf products being put out by Mongoose Publishing a few years ago. I bought this one right alongside The Dragons of Lencia, and I’m not quite sure which one is supposed to come first, or was published first (Google tells me it was published in 2008), but both series (it is also, like DoL, the first part of a trilogy now unlikely to be completed) share space and time elements (obviously Magnamund) and threats, which affect (more or less) each other (enough parenthesis already (are you crazy? I love parenthesis, you just got to keep the rhythm)).
With those basic info out of the way, there is also another thing that I’d like to put aside and not dwell on any further but is still deserving of its own paragraph: typos. Over the years, Mongoose has become quite infamous for doing basically no proof-reading of the work they’ve been releasing, at least in the world of Magnamund (can’t comment on their whole office, I never bought any of their other products). As the projects spiraled out of control it became more and more obvious, with giant mistakes like The Maters of Darkness (The Masters of Darkness) on display for everyone to see on the book’s spine and typo-riddled RPG supplements. While The Dragons of Lencia had its fair share of mistakes, I found them negligible. After all, I find typos in nearly all the books I get my hands upon: it’s really hard to get them all, just like Pokémon. But Greed and Glory is simply so infested with typos (and by that I mean usually strange stuff lykë th•/♥t) that I found myself frustrated on a level above the usual dealings with stupid characterisation and plot holes. That being said, whoever picks up a copy in the future, be warned. Leave the spellcheck function of your brain out the door.
Now that I got this off my chest, I can talk about what’s good and bad in Glory and Greed. And I figure, let’s talk about the good first as it’s going to be brief and make a break from all the negativity (contrary to popular beliefs, my soul does not feed on negativity - only on Garmonbozia).
One positive thing that I would say this book’s got going for it is that there are no goddam Kai Apprentice/Master/Sun God anywhere in sight. I know, this is probably a controversial topic; after all, some like it Kai. But let’s face it, Glory and Greed’s chances of stirring controversy are slim to none. And let’s face it some more, when we talk about Magnamund, the main subject of attention this side of Naar’s large array of buddies are Kai Lords (if not the one in particular). So it’s not like we are lacking Kai stories out there. While I would never spit on another go as a Kai (it’s the main draw, after all), I can still appreciate that there are no Kai in this story, and that it takes place far away from Summerlund in another culture altogether. Magnamund is vast and full of interesting sights, Joe Dever’s worldbuilding is exceptional (I think we can agree on that) and exploration should definitively be encouraged. It’s interesting to see different aspects developed from the usual Kai related stories and to view those aspects through some foreign points of view.
Unfortunately, I’ve just about finished listing all that’s good in Glory and Greed. So alright, it’s not that there’s nothing good about the story beyond what I mentioned. There’s some interesting story elements going on, though nothing earth-shattering to be brutally honest (like some of those lesser Marvel movies, perhaps?), but! (and how’s that for an awkward segue?) if there was to be a controversy about this book, it would be the sheer amount of clumsiness in putting said story together, apparently made by an author who seems to think that characters behaving like idiots are charming.
First, and avoiding spoilers for the few out there still interested (and because it’s been so long since I’ve read it, I’m afraid going into details might mislead the few of you due to faulty memory/lack of interest, so I’ll stick to the broad lines), it’s good to note that this story is in fact two stories, following different characters (duh) that never get to interact with each other here. Possibly they could have done so in the sequel, I guess, but I doubt we will ever find out.
Those stories are somewhat linked in subject matter, mostly by the protagonists being unknowingly pitted against different factions of the same forces of evil - or in the case of two of them, just walking blindly into enemy territory - and every chapter break we’ll switch side, interrupting one story to continue with the other. It can be a little distracting, or perhaps more annoying if you happen to hate one side more than the other, but that’s still far off from being an idiot move, especially if we do get to reunite the two stories somewhere down the line, right? Lots of books do that after all.
But what is truly annoying and more of an idiot move is how both stories are populated by stupid, unlikable characters (well, in story B it’s more like a population of two, but hey, they make up for it big time, don’t worry) with which it is almost impossible to identify with. It is quite exasperating and exhausting for us readers to have to leave some stupid characters behind in one thread only to find ourselves reunited with another bunch, just as bad, in the other. Can’t we catch a break?
Not likely. It’s not just characters being jerk to each others and making bad decisions that make it such a frustrating experience; Game of Thrones did/does this and it’s turning out great most of the time, right? Plus, real life is peppered with idiots and bad decisions are our daily cross and nail, after all. No, it’s also a matter of timing on the author’s part. Or perhaps I should say, in my limited vocabulary, that it is more like the author wants to give us insights on the different character’s emotional state but doesn’t quite know when to do it, or if it’s appropriate at all during certain scene. Or if he should simply drop the subject altogether.
Here, I’ll give you some examples, but be warned of my hazy memory, so details will be light but it’s kinda great for avoiding spoilers, right? Cough. Right. Know that I cannot remember the name of the characters anymore for the life of me (small blessing?), but I’ll put here two examples that I can still remember (somehow); one from story line A, and one from story line B. Let’s do this before I chicken out.
So in story line A, the main character, a spoiled princess-type daughter of a Senator (or some such) is escaping her doomed city via an extensive network of underground tunnels and caverns, along with hundreds of refugees. There’s danger behind them, in front of them, wounds festering and starvation, tragedy all around, you name it. While going from one problem to the next, she finds time to ponder over love and similar romantic notions because of a boy she barely knows who seems to be attracted to her (is he even? I can barely remember). Bear in mind that she’s also newly been appointed as the leader of this sad bunch of survivors. Appointed by Ishir, no less.
While it’s not impossible that she would have such ideas, it is however unlikely that anyone put through such an ordeal would find the time to dream of love or anything else but the danger or suffering at hand. I don’t know about you, but the threat of death at every turn has a tendency to put me off on such things; hell, getting a stomach ache while traveling on the train completely annihilates any kind of thoughts I could have on anything, so I imagine being pursued by Agarashi plus any other number of calamities would be quite enough to do the trick. I’m basically saying it should be the same for fictional characters as for us, especially in a type of fiction that chooses to lay very close to reality as we know it. I mean, fine, make the spoiled princess that type of character if you want to, but as a reader I can’t help but to want to scream at her (and the author) to put aside such a waste of time and focus on the here and now, on the life threatening situation dangling over her head (and everybody else’s head). Otherwise I just don’t buy it and you’ve lost my interest.
It’s even worse in story line B. That story is mostly about a couple, in a matriarchal society where, for a change, I guess, men is the second rate citizen. This particular couple is having an arranged marriage crisis where the woman is very unhappy of the choice imposed on her, even though he seems of good breed. So she decides that she will push him to his limits to force him to leave her, up to a literal push down some kind of ravine if needs be. Because she’s also evil, you see (at least she looks that way, I blame the author, see?). Oh, it’s worth mentioning, I guess, that they are part of some sort of desert tribe scouts/hunters, so they walk around a lot carrying weapons (I sometimes wish my work was like that, instead of sitting all day in an office). And death is definitely something that could happen in the wild of Magnamund. I mean, more so than here on Earth, except notoriously dangerous Australia, of course.
Him, on the other hand, is some sort of masochistic dude that falls hard for his tormentor, so much so that he decides he’ll carry on with her abuse no matter what, no matter how unsubtly she tries to send him off to the afterlife. This psychological tug-of-war ongoing throughout this branch of the story is directly responsible for sending them both to their doom, as even after they have found what they were looking for - and now running seriously low on cheese sandwich - they pursue ahead down some tunnel leading straight to hell, hoping to find a source of water (and/or cheese sandwich, you never know (psst, I’ll let you in on a little secret, they’ve only got grilled cheese sandwich down there, so they are bitterly disappointed)).
You see, the decision of continuing was all on the woman, and even when the point of no return is reached, she refuses to turn back because her unwanted man is still keeping up, so she decides that if he can make it without breaking, so can she, and he decides that he will keep going, even if it means death, because he need to show her how worthy he is of her love. That’s kind of already stupid right there right?
Even if you disagree with my profound statement, I, on the other hand, will have to agree that while it is a stretch of the imagination, it’s not impossible. It might even be an interesting story unto itself to witness how stubbornness in a human being can be a flaw as much as a quality and so lead to failure. I’ve read/seen those stories before. But when those same characters suddenly face an underworld full of giant Lovecraftian horrors starring them right in the face, noisy, nasty and counting in the hundreds (if not more, can’t be sure), you’ve just got to wonder if the author is being serious in trying to make you believe that the male character is so deep in thoughts about all things existential concerning his dear love(!) that he can’t notice the Cthulhus writhing underneath him or the melting brain of his beloved who’s literally going crazy from the revelation. Sigh. But by that tragic point the book is nearly over, so what can one do? Chuck it in the fireplace? Might as well struggle a little bit more and finish it.
Well, that being stated, I think I’ve just about exhausted all the energy I could give to produce this review. All my goodwill. The awkward moments found in this book are too numerous just to be lone mistakes or oversight; they point toward a flaw from the author that needs to be addressed, and if no-one (on the off chance) ever pointed it out to him I’m doing it now (of course he’d have to read this review first, which is not a given).
Still, since I haven’t yet read anything else from Mr. Hahn, I don’t want to push this any further than needs be; it’s entirely possible that this flaw, this strange willingness to give insights into the character’s psychology at the worst of time, this out of step rhythm if you will, might have been a one-off that only occurred in this particular book. Hell, for all I know, Mongoose and its notorious reputation of being unable to proof-read might have been as much responsible for this as the author: a little feedback from a few readers before publishing might have permit him to adjust the content, thus improving the story tenfold. And as I mentioned at the beginning of this too long review; as proven by flagrant mistakes such as symbols slipping past final approval (whatever the real name), nobody did took the time to read the book, because how can you miss something like this? ⓳∞∆↖ ҉ ϾϿ lol boobs. I mean, come on! If you don’t catch this while skimming over the text, something’s wrong with not just your eyes, you know. Just enough proof that nobody bothered to even flip the pages.
In closing, I’ve only really been able to finish reading this painful book because I’m a diehard fan of Lone Wolf and too curious for my own good. Part of me does feel bad for wasting time on this wreck and now I feel the same having taken way too long producing this review, which I realize isn’t that lovely or constructive. In the near future I’ll stick to gamebook reviews that shall be, if anything else, more interesting. Until then, just remember, for diehards only!