It’s no secret that I’m a huge fan of Peter F. Hamilton, even after the gigantic deus ex machina he used to conclude his Night’s Dawn trilogy. His writing is so compelling—to me, at least—that I can forgive that kind of transgression because the story itself is so interesting.
And now with the second entry in his Void trilogy, The Temporal Void, I find another great novel that feels too short, despite its ponderous length.
(I actually finished this book a few weeks ago, but have been too lazy to review it.)
War of Honor isn’t David Weber’s latest by any means, but it is to me, who just started the series earlier this year. This, the tenth book in the ongoing thread, isn’t quite the perfect storm we got in Ashes of Victory, but is nevertheless chock full of everything short of Haven’s total subjugation, and a much stronger novel.
I think I’ve just given up and decided to attempt and catch up with David Weber’s Honor Harrington series. All the way up. That means I’m currently working on Ashes of Victory, and it’s impossible not to notice the books are getting longer as the series rolls on.
And in this case, it’s not just longer in page-length, but in exposition, political maneuvering, and copious droning. Compared to [Echoes of Honor(http://www.
And David Weber’s Honor Harrington universe marches on with Echoes of Honor, like an army of undead, unstoppable and thirsting for brains. This time, we get to follow several distinct story segments as Honor and her team struggle to take over Hades and ultimately escape. The action this time around is almost unrelenting, and probably more importantly, relevant to the current story and future engagements.
Weber has a thing for political intrigue, and of course it’s no stranger here.
When I’m reading multiple books simultaneously, it’s usually because I’ve relegated one to my “before bed” pile. Absolution Gap, the conclusion of Alastair Reynolds’s Revelation Space series, was one of those. Unfortunately, it’s also one of the longer books I’ve attacked in a couple months, and half an hour per night hardly pays quick dividends. Even worse, Reynolds’ writing style is copious and unrelenting; I felt every single one of those pages.
