Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Ashen Winter review

Golly, what happened?

Okay, this is a continuation of Ashfall, the book where a super-volcano has erupted and sent the world into nuclear winter.  That alone gives more than enough conflict for a novel.  It was a pretty gripping book.  In the sequel Ashen Winter, the main plotline is that Alex wants to find his parents, who set out in search of him in the first book.  Darla is coming with him.  (And apparently they don't have to worry about filtering the air they breathe anymore.)  This plot just retreads the first book, only searching for parents instead of the whole family this time.  I understand wanting to be reunited with some family in the first book, but in this book, Alex's decision is sheer stupidity.  He has a really good setup with his relatives--shelter, food, protection, medical access, etc.  Why would he drop all that to go try to find his parents, who could easily be dead, and who anyway would most likely NOT want their son risking his life in the post-apocalyptic nuclear wasteland to go find them?  Most, if not all, parents would say, "I don't care about my life, but I want my children to live.  Don't go risking your life looking for us, son."  That is a pretty stupid move.  His uncle should have told him that rather than encouraging his journey.  I had the thought that, if he did get back to his hometown, he would find that his parents didn't find him, so went back to Warren, and he has to go back again, and the series turns to self-parody.  That would be entertaining than what we got.

Only here's what else happens: they have to elude roaming bandits, cannibals, lots of injuries and setbacks, and repressive governments who want to imprison everyone not in a city in a harsh work camp.  All that creates too much conflict, as in so much stuff happens that, every time something else comes up, I sigh in frustration that the main plot is delayed AGAIN to deal with some setback, only for the plot to get back on the rails in 10 pages.  There's a difference between giving your characters obstacles to overcome, and throwing every roadblock plus your mother chucking a kitchen sink at them.  At a certain point, too many obstacles start to feel contrived, as this one did (and this was only 150 pages in!), because when you chuck too many things at the characters, each individual thing loses significance.  So much crap has happened to them already that you know they'll overcome it and get on to the next roadblock in a few pages, so when the big conflict comes up, you don't recognize it's significance.  Imagine if the Imperials kept capturing the Falcon in The Empire Strikes Back every time they pursued them, and the gang kept escaping.  The capture and escape at Cloud City, the climax of the film, wouldn't have the same significance--we'd just think, "Again?!"  This book should have been half or a third the length it was--it needed serious tightening.  The last thing you want to feel is frustration when you should be feeling suspense.

For example, at one point Alex wants to leave a city, and the benevolent mayor says no, because, "He's a child and children are our future."  I thought, "That's a stupid, ten-cent plot device."  It was only put in so that he could escape the city 20 pages later.  Might as well have cut it out.  About half the chapters end this way, with some roadblock--someone discovering him, pointing a gun at him, etc.  It's all too much.  Actually, to the mayor's response, I thought, "Let him go.  This kid does so many stupid things in this book that you should let him leave, because maybe he'll get killed off and his genes will not be able to contaminate the rest of the world."

About 200 pages into a 600-page book, something infuriating happens:  (SPOILER ALERT, I guess)  Alex very stupidly tries to save some people he's never met by, get this brilliant plan, spontaneously waving his arms around.  Seriously, he has no plan for saving people other than by blatantly getting their attention.  He didn't even know they existed ten seconds ago.  Unsurprisingly, someone notices him, and Darla is shot and falls off an overpass, presumably dying.  Actually, I would have loved if that had happened: putting in a plot twist like that would have been a gutsy move.  But no, Alex is sure she's alive, and derails his save-the-parents plotline to go on a rescue-Darla plot.  200 pages later, this side plot is still not resolved, and actually becomes the main plot.  In fact, during this side plot, the main plot is unceremoniously resolved.  At that point, I made a Godzilla-roar of frustration.  So you're telling me they sidelined the main plotline, then just ended it like that?  Oh, and when they get to where Darla was sent, they find out she just was taken somewhere else.  (screams unintelligibly)  (END SPOILERS, I suppose)

The book also keeps going on once both "main" plots are resolved, and then ends with yet another roadblock that isn't even resolved in the book!  Alex even says that what's going to happen is stupid, but he's going to help anyway!  What was Mullin's support team doing?  You don't build to a climax, resolve it, and then introduce something completely new at the end of the book.  You've had an emotional break--don't muddle it up with something else.  Again, this would be like  if in The Empire Strikes Back, the gang finds some kind of Imperial blockade on the way to the Rebel Fleet, then never makes it to the Rebellion, instead planning to do something idiotic to get back to the Fleet.  At this point, I was ready for someone to just nuke the town and have the rest of the story be descriptions of all animal and plant life on earth slowly dying.

There was also a bit of a problem when action scenes came around.  I found it hard to visualize them and felt that they would have worked much better if I could have seen them, like a Raiders of the Lost Ark ripoff when someone is hanging underneath a truck for over 10 pages.  I actually liked the situation, but kept thinking, "I would enjoy this if only I could see the mechanics of how he's moving around underneath."

The second act in a trilogy should be the darkest one, but I think Mullin took that trope too far here.  A few bits of well-placed conflict work wonders over lots and lots of little things.

Please, third book, improve.  If I even want to read it after this mess.