First let me get the petty gripes out of the way: the title of this book, like the other books, is terrible. But it's more terribler in a different way because according to the story, "Thonboka" means "starcave." My other petty gripe is that L. Neil Smith is a libertarian but that doesn't have anything to do with this book (unlike the last one which was all about how Lando couldn't get rich not because he was terrible at business but because taxes and government fees kept bankrupting him).
Now let me get to the petty gripes about myself: I know I read this book but I'm not sure I actually read this book. I was so not interested in reading this book that I thought about a lot of other stuff while reading it which isn't conducive to retaining and comprehending what's being read. I especially did this on the chapters about the bad guys because they were boring. And when have bad guys ever been boring in an adventure novel?! They're usually the most entertaining aspect of the book! Which probably explains why this book received two stars.
I understand that when writing a trilogy and after creating a super awesome bad guy in the first book (not my opinion; I'm putting myself in Smith's place), I would totally want to use that bad guy in the subsequent books. But also Lando's adventures take place in space which is a really big place. So you'd think that maybe he wouldn't run into the same guy three separate times. And also he wouldn't run into the new "bad guy" who is trying to kill his droid friend two times. But of course there are plot reasons why this happens and I will explain them in a new paragraph because I think it's time for a new paragraph? How do paragraphs work? Do you just think, "That's enough words all clumped together for now. Let's start a new clump"?
The plot reasons for Lando running into Rokur Gepta over and over again are that Rokur Gepta gets so butt hurt by Lando defeating his plans in the first book that he can't stop hunting Lando. Think about how pathetic that is. Rokur Gepta is thousands and thousands of years old and space is like almost as big as thousands and thousands of years but in parsecs (maybe bigger?). Why can't this super powerful being just be all, "Well, that one didn't work out. Guess I'll start a new super duper plan to take over the galaxy"? I guess the reason is that he's a gigantic immature baby jerk? What Lando does in the first book to this nearly immortal ancient being is the equivalent of an ant causing me to twist my ankle simply because I noticed it for a split second and tried not to step on it.
No wait. That's not a good example because if an ant did that to me, I would totally hunt it down and make its life miserable for two more books. Stupid ant. How dare it!
I would think up a new analogy but you probably get the point and I'm too lazy to come up with a new analogy. Also I want to spoil the end of this book now (and I haven't even discussed the space manta rays with microwave telepathy who shit illusory images of themselves and can sprint through hyperspace or Vuffi Ra's ancestors who are sentient space ships): Rokur Gepta is a gothic gerbil pretending to be a man. And Lando only defeats him by accident when a piece of space debris knocks him sideways and he accidentally shoots Rokur Gepta in the ankle which is the only place in the "human suit" where Rokur Gepta actually was. Is that a twist ending or is that an unsatisfying conclusion where Lando doesn't really solve his problems so much as have his problem solved for him? It's probably one of those and since I rated this book two stars, you know which one it is, right?
These books were supposed to be palette cleansers after spending nearly a year reading Alan Moore's Jerusalem. But, and this is another stupid analogy, instead of being palette cleansers, they were just a big bag of sour gummy candies of which I ate too much and now my stomach hurts and I feel terrible and I desperately need a salad. And by salad I mean a Thomas Pynchon novel.
Now let me get to the petty gripes about myself: I know I read this book but I'm not sure I actually read this book. I was so not interested in reading this book that I thought about a lot of other stuff while reading it which isn't conducive to retaining and comprehending what's being read. I especially did this on the chapters about the bad guys because they were boring. And when have bad guys ever been boring in an adventure novel?! They're usually the most entertaining aspect of the book! Which probably explains why this book received two stars.
I understand that when writing a trilogy and after creating a super awesome bad guy in the first book (not my opinion; I'm putting myself in Smith's place), I would totally want to use that bad guy in the subsequent books. But also Lando's adventures take place in space which is a really big place. So you'd think that maybe he wouldn't run into the same guy three separate times. And also he wouldn't run into the new "bad guy" who is trying to kill his droid friend two times. But of course there are plot reasons why this happens and I will explain them in a new paragraph because I think it's time for a new paragraph? How do paragraphs work? Do you just think, "That's enough words all clumped together for now. Let's start a new clump"?
The plot reasons for Lando running into Rokur Gepta over and over again are that Rokur Gepta gets so butt hurt by Lando defeating his plans in the first book that he can't stop hunting Lando. Think about how pathetic that is. Rokur Gepta is thousands and thousands of years old and space is like almost as big as thousands and thousands of years but in parsecs (maybe bigger?). Why can't this super powerful being just be all, "Well, that one didn't work out. Guess I'll start a new super duper plan to take over the galaxy"? I guess the reason is that he's a gigantic immature baby jerk? What Lando does in the first book to this nearly immortal ancient being is the equivalent of an ant causing me to twist my ankle simply because I noticed it for a split second and tried not to step on it.
No wait. That's not a good example because if an ant did that to me, I would totally hunt it down and make its life miserable for two more books. Stupid ant. How dare it!
I would think up a new analogy but you probably get the point and I'm too lazy to come up with a new analogy. Also I want to spoil the end of this book now (and I haven't even discussed the space manta rays with microwave telepathy who shit illusory images of themselves and can sprint through hyperspace or Vuffi Ra's ancestors who are sentient space ships): Rokur Gepta is a gothic gerbil pretending to be a man. And Lando only defeats him by accident when a piece of space debris knocks him sideways and he accidentally shoots Rokur Gepta in the ankle which is the only place in the "human suit" where Rokur Gepta actually was. Is that a twist ending or is that an unsatisfying conclusion where Lando doesn't really solve his problems so much as have his problem solved for him? It's probably one of those and since I rated this book two stars, you know which one it is, right?
These books were supposed to be palette cleansers after spending nearly a year reading Alan Moore's Jerusalem. But, and this is another stupid analogy, instead of being palette cleansers, they were just a big bag of sour gummy candies of which I ate too much and now my stomach hurts and I feel terrible and I desperately need a salad. And by salad I mean a Thomas Pynchon novel.
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