Songs of the Dead by
Brandon Sanderson
My rating:
3 of 5 stars
The good: It reads like an interesting post-UF fiction that really leans into the idea of "You're never truly dead until nobody remembers you" and specifically the consequences of artists who dearly want to be immortalized.
It goes well beyond just musicians, of course, but this is where we stand in the first book. Strata being social-archeological, if that isn't clear. :)
I also really love the whole philosophical discussion going on here between old-school art, being forgotten or supplanted or twisted, becoming the staunch old-guard, versus the rebellion, the one that brings in the fresh. And how so much of that can be twisted the other way.
Subtext on writing is there, too. What is cribbed, what is riffed, what is stolen, but it's buried fairly deep behind the music. Art problems are art problems and I enjoy this kind of thing.
The so-so: the spark just isn't that strong? At least, when I read about artists inspiring awe, I would rather have it SHOWN with something truly inspiring and impressive in the text, in a way that is actually surprising. Not just "he sang and the audience was awestruck". I need to be lead to true awe, too, and I'm an easy customer. I WANT to be awe'd.
This book was not awesome. It could have been. The premise is damn good. The particulars, the music history, real history, and the discussion is genuine and neat. But the execution needed to SHINE.
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