The Tzer Island book blog features book reviews written by TChris, the blog's founder.  I hope the blog will help readers discover good books and avoid bad books.  I am a reader, not a book publicist.  This blog does not exist to promote particular books, authors, or publishers.  I therefore do not participate in "virtual book tours" or conduct author interviews.  You will find no contests or giveaways here.

The blog's nonexclusive focus is on literary/mainstream fiction, thriller/crime/spy novels, and science fiction.  While the reviews cover books old and new, in and out of print, the blog does try to direct attention to books that have been recently published.  Reviews of new (or newly reprinted) books generally appear every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Reviews of older books appear on occasional weekends.  Readers are invited and encouraged to comment.  See About Tzer Island for more information about this blog, its categorization of reviews, and its rating system.

Thursday
Nov272025

Happy Thanksgiving!

Monday
Nov172025

Revenge of Odessa by Tony Kent and Frederick Forsyth

Published by G.P. Putnam's Sons on November 18, 2025

Frederick Forsyth’s first published novel, The Day of the Jackal, remains one of my all-time favorite thrillers, perhaps because I read it when I was still young and impressionable. I recall thinking that I had never read anything like it. I was not quite as impressed with his second novel, The Odessa File, but I nevertheless recall being riveted by it.

Forsyth died earlier this year. His name, along with co-author Tony Kent, appears on the cover of Revenge of Odessa, but that doesn’t mean much. Robert Ludlum’s name regularly appears on new books and he’s been dead for more than twenty years. Forsyth apparently suggested the sequel’s plot, or at least the premise (presumably something more than “the Odessa returns”), but Kent was responsible for crafting the content. Unsurprisingly — and meaning no disrespect to Tony Kent — the sequel is less captivating than The Odessa File. My overall reaction to Revenge of Odessa is that Forsyth already told this story, but told it better. Still, it compares favorably to (or at least is no worse than) contemporary action thrillers.

Odessa is a continuation of the Nazi party that positions itself to rise again by infiltrating government offices and other positions of power. It was thwarted in the first novel and the organization was suppressed. Now Odessa is back because you just can’t keep a good conspiracy down.

Georg Miller is the son of Horst Miller, who father worked for the BDN, Germany’s foreign intelligence service. Georg’s grandfather is Peter Miller, a reporter who was the protagonist in The Odessa File.

Following in his grandfather’s footsteps, Georg is a journalist/podcaster. He understands that Germany has become a “tinderbox, primed to explode in a direction Georg found unthinkable.” Anti-Nazi sentiment has given way to rising nationalism, a political philosophy that didn’t work out well for Germany in the last century. Now Alternative for Germany (AfD), characterizing itself as a populist party, is convincing voters to embrace its neo-Nazi rhetoric. The party defines immigrants as “the enemy,” particularly if they don’t share the belief that white Christians are a superior form of life.

The story begins with the death of Senator Jack Johnson, whose home burns while he is trying to deflect the sexual attentions of an intern. A few months later, a terrorist attack in Stuttgart includes gun violence against children. Islamic terrorists are blamed, but Miller thinks the true perpetrators staged the incident to stoke fear and hatred. He heads to a Stuttgart hospital to interview survivors, where he encounters Carl Ackermann, a demented old guy who mistakes Georg for his father. Ackermann is a bit confused because he remembers killing Horst and snapping the neck of his “dirty Jew wife.” This comes as news to Georg.

Georg breaks into the hospital records office and rather improbably comes across an entry that refers to Odessa. He makes a nuisance of himself while inquiring about Ackermann and soon finds himself being chased through the hospital by killers who serve Odessa. In various forms, that chase continues as Georg strives to prevent a catastrophic event that will advance Odessa’s scheme to gain control of the US government.

The story is based on familiar elements. The senator’s death is connected to a larger Odessa plot. A young Black woman who works for a political campaign learns some details of the plot, placing her life in peril when she falls into the clutches of Nazi villains. Scott Brogan, an action hero who is also Georg’s godfather, resurfaces in Georg’s life and keeps him alive while he drifts from action scene to action scene. Near the end, Georg learns uncomfortable truths about his family and friends.

Forsyth’s novel was based on intrigue, while Kent leans heavily on action to carry the story. The action scenes are lively, making Revenge of Odessa easy to recommend to action thriller fans. Little about the novel is intriguing, particularly in comparison to Forsyth’s original, but it serves as a reasonably entertaining reminder of the horrors that await the world if nationalist extremism is allowed to flourish.

RECOMMENDED

Monday
Nov102025

The Eleventh Hour by Salman Rushdie

Published by Random House on November 4, 2025

The Eleventh Hour collects five stories, three of novella length and two that are shorter. The most entertaining novella in the collection is “The Musician of Kahani.” It is, in part, the story of a man who loses his way and the daughter who guides his return. The man finds false meaning in life when he abandons his family to join a cult leader’s community as a preparer and ladler of soup. The daughter is a musical prodigy who marries into wealth and develops a sort of superpower that allows her to project her music to her distant father’s ears. It is also the story of a mother whose “brilliant husband falls for a stupid fraud” and whose “brilliant daughter falls for a stupid playboy,” leaving her “alone in our home without the two people who were my whole world.” The story touches on familiar themes in fiction that focuses on India: the dominance of men, parental control of children throughout their lives, the disparity of wealth, the misplaced importance given to high social status (recast as “brand identity”). Satirical observations lighten the mood, but the reconciliation of a family, decent people who stray from their paths before reuniting, is moving.

“Late” tells the story of a gay British professor who achieved fame with the only novel he ever wrote — a classic work set in India. He lived a reclusive life in an “ivory tower of infirm old men” until he woke up one morning to discover that he had died. Only one person, a student from India studying the history of religion and its intersection with the state, can see his ghost. She volunteers to act as a guide to the professor’s rooms, left untouched as a tribute by the university that employed him. Contrary to his solitary nature, the professor is displeased that nobody ever visits his rooms, but he is also unhappy to discover that his spirit will disintegrate if he leaves the campus. He views death as “proof of the pointlessness of life,” particularly his own not-quite-death that has him dwelling in a literal fog (perhaps a soup made from the remains of other souls) as what’s left of him decays. Death focuses his mind on revenge against the College Provost, who gave him a choice between sexual freedom and a place at the College, but how can he pursue that goal without a body?

The theme of disappearance also animates “Oklahoma,” purportedly an unfinished manuscript that tells a story of ambiguous meaning, building on Kafka’s unfinished novel Amerika, a novel whose central character will never find peace, having been abandoned by his creator. The story includes an extended riff about Francisco Goya, told from his unhappy point of view. The writer-narrator has a writer uncle who, though presumed dead, has apparently continued writing. Or is the narrator carrying on his dead uncle’s work? By the time the story generates an “apparition, this sci-fi incarnation of beauty,” who “was not real, she was a phantom I had brought into being to express my need for love,” I lost interest. “Oklahoma” showcases Rushdie’s astonishing prose but, sad to say, its full meaning escaped me. My fault more than Rushdie’s, I’m sure.

The two short stories address the problem of aging — a problem that eventually vexes everyone who survives youth and middle age. The characters in “In the South,” though known as Senior and Junior, are both 81. Senior’s other friends have died, along with his “kindly” wife. He used a broker to find a new one, a woman with a wooden leg who is unkind, perhaps in response to his own unkindness. “Instead of unhappy solitude they found themselves trapped in unhappy togetherness.” Senior feels like a shadow: “The old move through the world of the young like shades, unseen, of no concern.” Particularly in the story’s last pages, Senior would rather be dead, but as he comes to understand: “Death and life were just adjacent verandas.”

The more interesting short story, “The Old Man in the Piazza,” makes the argument that soaring prose depends on conditions of dissent. In times of agreement, language is muted. Language is a character in the story, sitting in a corner of the piazza during a time when the word “no” was outlawed (although rejection was not, as an old man learned: “The old man was younger then, and his heart ached a lot, thanks to the repeated rejections of its sincerely offered emotions by young women with hair of different colors.”). It was forbidden to debunk even the most risible propositions: “the nocturnal metamorphosis of the immigrant population into drooling sex monsters, the benefits of raising the taxes paid by the poor.” Finally fed up, Language screams and the age of argumentation begins. What takes center stage is an outpouring of unattractive words, “not our language’s beautiful and justly celebrated poetry,” but “Go fuck yourself” and similar expressions.

“The Old Man in the Piazza” explodes the myth (less prevalent in the US than other nations) that aging inevitably bestows wisdom upon those who survive it. Language favors nuance over the simplistic certainties that pass for wisdom: “She cares only for words of many-layered beauty, for fineness of expression, for the subtlety of what is spoken and the resonance of what is better left unspoken, for the meanings between the words, and the illumination of those meanings that only her greatest disciples can provide.”

Readers expect insightful observations about society from Rushdie. Each entry in this volume delivers. Characters contemplate the tension between liberty and goodness (does the ideal of freedom include freedom to be bad?), between individualism and social norms, between definitions of morality that benefit the ruling class and those that are more objective. Rushdie illustrates the conflict that people raised in the conservative political climate feel when they experience the freedoms that are taken for granted in most of western Europe, including sexual freedom and the ability to make choices that are not restricted by family traditions. He explores generational change, contrasts the old and the young, and compares the fear of death to the fear of living.

Chattering characters explore questions of philosophy, sometimes by accident. Some of their theories border on lunacy (stars are just the sun shining through a colander that covers the city at night) but should rational people correct them or listen patiently? “Are mistaken notions harmful to the brain, to the community, to the health of the body politic, or are they simply errors to be tolerated as the product of simple minds?” That question gains currency when applied to climate change deniers and anti-vaxxers.

Religion, art, madness, war and evil, culture and religion, the language of poetry and prose, and the nature of reality are just a few of the topics Rushdie tackles. While the stories are uneven, I give Rushdie credit for trying to do something new in each one. As a writer who marries striking prose to intriguing ideas, Rushdie always gives readers something to enjoy as they try to get at his meaning.

RECOMMENDED

Monday
Nov032025

False Witness by Phillip Margolin

Published by Minotaur Books on November 11, 2025

Karen Wyatt was a respected criminal defense lawyer until she was convicted of a drug crime and sentenced to prison. Although the drugs were planted, a dealer testified that he sold them to Wyatt and a crime lab technician falsified a report that claimed her fingerprints were on the drugs.

Wyatt was set up in retaliation for proving that a biker charged with assaulting a cop during a raid on the biker gang clubhouse was actually the victim of the cop’s assault. A video showed that the cops who set up the raid were stealing drugs and cash from the bikers. The cops were also taking payoffs from a rival gang. They were more than a bit irked that Wyatt exposed their illegal actions.

The crooked crime lab tech is caught stealing cocaine and makes a deal that requires him to tell the truth about Wyatt. That fortuitous circumstance leads to Wyatt’s release from prison. Most of that backstory is told in flashbacks.

Having settled a civil rights claim for wrongful imprisonment, Wyatt has become a wealthy lawyer who can pick and choose her cases. She knows that a prosecutor in the DA’s office was in on the scheme that sent her to prison but she doesn’t know that person’s identity. People who might know the whole story, including the the cop who coerced the crime lab technician and the drug dealer who testified against Wyatt, are soon murdered. Wyatt’s attempt to find the truth about the scheme to send her to prison drives the plot.

A wealthy guy named Terrance Corgen is another murder victim. His body is discovered after someone reports his Jaguar missing. Police pull over Jack Blackburn while he’s driving the car. Blackburn claims Corgen’s chauffeur, Billy Kramer, met him in a bar and asked him to drive his girlfriend home in the Jaguar. Blackburn swears he never went inside the residence but the police found a glass with his fingerprints in the room where they found Corgen’s body. Blackburn seems to be on a path to a murder conviction. The story threads weave together when Wyatt agrees to represent Blackburn.

Two Portland homicide detectives, Chad Remington and Audrey Packer, investigate Corgen’s death. Another suspect is Thomas Horan, a Congressman who believes he was abducted by space aliens after expressing skepticism about alien visitors during UFO hearings. There is evidence that Horan may have been in Corgen’s home and his only alibi witnesses are space aliens. They won’t be coming to court.

Phillip Margolin ties these disparate storylines together in a way that is entertaining if implausible. The explanation for the alien abduction tested my willingness to accept unlikely plot developments. I also found it hard to believe that the sadistic leader of a motorcycle gang is also a Mensa member, but I suppose bright people can be sadistic. Motorcycle gang members are easy targets, but corruption within a legal system that depends on honest cops and prosecutors adds a bit of depth to the story.

The corrupt prosecutor’s identity requires Wyatt to discern the meaning of “Starlight,” the word uttered in a dying breath by another murder victim. Why did the dying man utter the word “Starlight” rather than simply naming the prosecutor? Because the novel wouldn’t have gone on for another fifty pages if he’d given a straightforward answer. When writers substitute “for the sake of the plot” in place of realistic actions, the story suffers. Even with that plot device, the corrupt DA’s identity is easy enough to guess.

Setting aside my reservations about plot elements that come across as forced, I appreciated the trial scenes and the effort Margolin made to give Wyatt a personality. False Witness isn’t among the best legal thrillers of recent vintage, but it is far from the worst.

RECOMMENDED

Wednesday
Oct292025

The Dagger in Vichy by Alastair Reynolds

Published by Subterranean Press on July 22, 2025

Alastair Reynolds writes some of science fiction’s most entertaining space operas. The Dagger in Vichy is not that. Promotional materials market the novella as a blend of fantasy and science fiction, but I don’t think it’s that either. Arthur C. Clarke’s familiar observation that “any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic” is at work here. The novella is grounded in credible science, but much of the science has been lost as society has regressed to a state that approximates medieval times. I view The Dagger in Vichy as a blend of Arthurian fiction and science fiction, with lost science taking on the role of magic.

The story takes place in a future France. It is the thirty-second year in the reign of the nineteenth Imperator. The characters live in the aftermath of an apocalyptic event, but one that occurred hundreds of years earlier, so distant from the present that it no longer merits discussion.

A playwright and a group of actors are traveling in a horse-drawn wagon, performing at small venues, on guard against an ambush by plundering thieves. They have a particle-pistol and Bernard, an ex-soldier, carries a carbon-bladed dagger “with a nugget of depleted uranium lodged in the hilt.” Although some advanced technology has survived, most has been lost or exists as relics from the Twilight Centuries. Fortunately for humans in need of transportation, horses endure.

The playwright is Guillaume of Ghent. His best writing years are behind him and he knows it. He no longer has a cheery disposition. “The good humour and charity that once flowed out of him without ease had reduced, like his pissing, to a miserly trickle.”

The narrator is Rufus, a boy who is in service to Guillaume after being rescued from the gallows for stealing food. A few other players make up the troupe.

The traveling actors happen upon a dying Knight of the Imperial Guard who implores them to take a wooden box to the Imperator in Avignon. Bernard, ever loyal to the Imperator’s troops, swears he will make the delivery.

Of course, the knight warns them not to open the box. Of course, they do. The object in the box, at first seen only by Guillaume but heard by an eavesdropping Rufus, seems to have supernatural powers.

For reasons best discovered by the reader, Bernard and Guillaume become divided about the wisdom of taking the box to Avignon. The dissolving bond of two old friends and the desperate action one of them takes against the other gives the story its drama.

The true nature of the object in the box will slowly dawn upon most readers, perhaps more quickly than it dawned on me. I admire the craftsmanship with which Reynolds sets up the reveal. His vision of a future France is easily captured without excessive description, as he draws upon familiar images of traveling shows and mounted knights (albeit knights armed with particle weapons). The plot is clever and the resolution is satisfying.

Subterranean is marketing The Dagger in Vichy in a signed limited edition. If you’re not a collector, it’s also available as an ebook.

RECOMMENDED