The Marching Dead by Lee Battersby (ARC REVIEW)

It was almost a year ago that Lee Battersby completely blew me away with The Corpse-Rat King, an extremely funny, extraordinarily imaginative tale that I thoroughly enjoyed, and have gleefully recommended over and over again. I've been waiting for the follow-up almost from the moment I turned the last page, and I'm pleased to say The Marching Dead was definitely worth the wait.



In a slightly more mature sequel, Battersby eases up a bit on the slapstick and reigns in the bizarre sense of adventure, but still maintains the same imaginative literary sense of the macabre that made the first book such a success. We pick up the story of Marius dos Helles a few years later, with our reluctant hero relaxing at home with the love of his life - except, of course, for when he's shifting back into dead flesh and stealing into town for a drink. Before long, however, that boringly idyllic life is brought to a screeching halt when Keth is dragged kicking and screaming into the realm of the dead, and Marius finds himself on the wrong end of Drenthe's sword . . . again.



Cue the return of Gerd, who is given a chance to rise above his minor sidekick role to become a main character, and his Granny, who is very much dead, but still looking after her favourite boy. As Gerd explains to Marius, "We buried Granny in the village graveyard. After a week, she dug herself out and came to me for answers." I thought Gerd was underused in the first book, so it was nice to see him have a chance to shine here. Not only does he stand up to Marius and hold his own, but he sticks with the man who led him to his death, browbeating him into doing the right thing more than once. As for Granny, her sharp-witted nastiness serves as a welcome foil for both men.



Whereas the first book was all about Marius trying to find new ways to duck his responsibilities, and new (dead) people to thrust those responsibilities upon, this book is very much about him confronting his past and claiming the destiny he escape first time around - albeit reluctantly. Battersby reveals the man behind the corpse, introducing us to his parents, and providing some insight into why his life of privilege ended with him robbing corpses on a battlefield. It makes for a more sombre and serious tale, at least in parts, but the added depth is very much appreciated.



There are more than a few new characters here to love, including Brys (the sexy Pirate with the ample bosom), Fellipan (the dead sexy bordello Mistress with the ample bosom), and Arnobew (the madman with a cardboard sword). It's definitely a more well-rounded cast than in the first book, and four-sided love triangle between Marius, Keth, Brys, and Fellipan is both a lot of fun and source of surprising sorrow by the end. The visual depiction of Fellipan is about as over-the-top erotic as they come, and her personality delivers on that dangerous premise, even as she assures Marius that it's not necrophilia if they're both dead.



Once again, Battersby absolutely nails the narrative style, balancing humour and horror, fantasy and felony. It's another quick-moving, well-written story that amuses, excites, and concludes with some rather deep, and remarkably heavy musings on the subjects of life, death, and the afterlife - or the lack thereof. Some readers may be a tad offended by the nunnery to which Marius' mother has retired, having been home to "celebrated healers, whores, and the occasional holy woman," but the practicality of hedging their bets against shifts in mythology is to be admired. I wasn't quite sure where the story was headed, and I appreciated the way it kept me guessing, and managed to surprise me, without making me feel cheated.



I suspect - or maybe just desperately hope - that is not the end for Marius and Gerd but, if it is, then I can walk away with no complaints. The Corpse-Rat King and The Marching Dead make for an entirely satisfying duology, firmly establishing Marius dos Helles as one of the finest - and funniest - reluctant heroes in the history of fantasy. If you enjoyed the first one, you'll love this one too, and if you have yet to enjoy the first one . . . well, what the heck are you waiting for?





Expected publication: March 26th 2013 by Angry Robot

Paperback, 416 pages

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Waiting On Wednesday - The Marching Dead by Lee Battersby

"Waiting On" Wednesday is a weekly event, hosted by Jill over at Breaking the Spine, that spotlights upcoming releases that we're eagerly anticipating.



This week's pre-publication "can't-wait-to-read" selection is:

The Marching Dead by Lee Battersby



Find the dead a King, save himself, win the love of his life, live happily ever after. No wonder Marius dos Helles is bored. But now something has stopped the dead from, well, dying.



It’s up to Marius, Gerd, and Gerd’s not-dead-enough Granny to journey across the continent and put the dead back in the afterlife where they belong. (March 26, 2013)





Oh, man . . . I really can't wait for this. The Corpse-Rat King was one of my favourite reads of 2012, and I am anxious to find out what's up for Marius next.

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eBook ARC Review: The Corpse-Rat King by Lee Battersby

There is almost nothing better than looking forward to an upcoming release from a favourite author, getting a chance to give it an early read, and finding out that it not only lives up to all your expectations, but completely exceeds them. The satisfaction is almost immeasurable.



I say almost, because there is one thing that really is better - stumbling across an upcoming release from an author you've never read before, picking it up entirely on a whim, starting the read with absolutely nothing in the way of expectations, and being completely blown away. If the satisfaction is almost immeasurable, than the pleasure is completely immeasurable.



Such is the case with The Corpse-Rat King by Lee Battersby.



Not only did I have no expectations of this one, I wasn't even sure I'd have time to give it a read. It was one of the newest electronic ARCs available to the Robot Army, so I snagged it alongside Adam Christopher's Seven Wonders, figuring I'd give it a cursory glance if I happened to get through the other before September rolled around. It just so happened that I was between books last weekend and, completely on a whim, I decided to give it a shot.



I think I was about 10 pages in before I knew I had something special on my hands.



What Battersby has concocted here is equal parts Bruce Campbell slapstick, Monty Python absurdity, and Terry Gilliam imaginative wonder, filtered through the same literary sense of the macabre as Jesse Bullington or Neil Gaiman. It's an extremely funny, extraordinarily imaginative tale, that never stops surprising the reader with where it's going next. Really, it's one of those novels where the less you know going in, the better the reading experience is likely to be.



Marius is one of the unlikeliest heroes I have encountered in a very long time. He's a greedy, self-centred, cowardly bastard . . . who just so happens to be clever, amusing, and embarrassingly likable at the same time. He's the kind of guy who will gladly stand at your side in the face of imminent danger, but only so he can pick your pocket and knock you down at the last moment to expedite his own getaway. He is a scoundrel in every sense of the word, but an entirely pragmatic one. While he does develop significantly over the course of the novel, demonstrating a tenderness of heart and soul, he remains delightfully despicable throughout.



The writing (and storytelling) here is absolutely top notch. Battersby has a very intimate, very casual way of telling a story, one that's more conversational than literary. He's entirely aware of the absurdities of his tale, and makes no apologies for them. Whereas some authors try too hard to justify, explain, or otherwise validate the comic elements of their tale, Battersby is content to let the humour work. What's more, he proves himself equally adept at elaborate set pieces of slapstick humour, quick throwaway gags, and ridiculous asides.



There's a particularly prolonged sequence of events that involves Marius walking across the bottom of the sea, attempting to scale a submerged shipwreck, and desperately trying to reason with the skeleton of a king who was already crazy before he inadvertently merged the bones of his horse with his own. It's a scene that should have fallen apart and worn out its welcome long before the hungry shark appears on scene, but Battersby makes it work so well, it's a shame to see it come to an end .



Similarly, whereas the various tangents and asides should begin to wear away at the reader's patience, you can't help but gleefully anticipate the next one. It was these half-pages that so often had me laughing out loud, or at least visibly smirking with glee.

"Discovered less than four hundred years ago by the famous Tallian adventurer “Literal” Edmund Bejeevers, the Dog Crap Archipelago lay like a giant turd across the passage between Borgho City and the Faraway isles. Early explorers found nothing there to recommend the place to anybody, and indeed, early maps show a simple ovoid outline with the words “Don’t Bother” written inside."

Even the throwaway gags, such as the "Secret passage closed due to repair works" sign, work better than any author has any right to expect. It's all about the balance between the humour and the story, and the simultaneous commitment to both, that makes it work. Battersby never allows one to suffer at the expense of the other, and never forgets to involve the reader emotionally as well as intellectually.



This was a novel that I thoroughly enjoyed and will gleefully recommend, without reservation. Of course, Battersby has now placed himself within the first scenario I mentioned, so here's hoping The Marching Dead manages to exceed my expectations as well as The Corpse-Rat King managed to blow me away.

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