I have a rule – I review pirate books, and ONLY pirate books. There are loads of nautical, naval, and otherwise maritime books out there. Many of them are very, very good. But this is a pirate site, and I review pirate books.

And so now I’m breaking this rule by reviewing The Two-Space War. Why? A couple of reasons. First off, it’s a wonderful book that you might well never hear about otherwise, so I consider it my duty to help spread the word. And secondly, it has monkeys in it. Lots and lots of space monkeys.

The Two-Space War is a combination of things that should generally never be combined – Napoleonic naval warfare, space exploration, and Tolkein-inspired races (elves, dwarves, etc.) But in the hands of authors Dave Grossman and Leo Frankowski, these varied elements begin to feel surprisingly natural. The basic premise is that mankind has begun to travel the galaxy by accessing the second demension, or Two-Space. Far from being Star Trek gobbledeegook, the concept of removing the Z-axis from our ordinarily XYZ, three demensional, existence would necessarily have the effect of bringing things closer together – a planet might be a thousand lightyears “above you” while being only a few miles to your right – crushing the galaxy flat would certainly bring you much closer to such a destination.

In this book, traveling through Two-Space does have its quirks. Chief amongst them is that the environment is corrosive to technology. Computers, engines, and even automatic weapons become useless in a matter of hours. And so the races have learned to travel through the flat seas of Two-Space using methods long since considered obsolete – with wooden ships, powered by sails and protected by muskets and cannons. This throwback technology has also spurred a throwback culture, or retro-culture, whereby people shun innovation and instead look to tradition and ancient literature for guidance. It could all sound very gimmicky, except that the authors have stayed so consistent within their premise that the concept of sailors traveling through this techno-destructive world seems as natural as gravity and television do in the real life.

The story begins with Leuitenant Melville, a fairly fresh and unproven officer in the Westerness Navy, finding himself crash-landed on a new planet and suddenly in charge of a crew of humans, with a dwarf and elf serving alongside. And then the alien monkeys attack – and that’s when this book quickly shows its utter brilliance. Sailors armed with 19th century technology, allied with dwarves and elves, and defending their crashed space-ship against ravenous alien monkeys is a completely bizarre – and easily ludicrous – concept. But the authors, one of whom has experience training elite military troops, approach this unique situation with calm, measured analysis, sharing a wealth of battle-tested insight on combat strategy, psychology, and even physiology. This matter-of-fact approach to military matters suitably counter-balances the more fantastic aspects such as elves and space monkeys, and makes for an entertaining – and surprisingly educational – read.

It’s shortly into this first battle that a second group of smaller space monkeys join the fray, fighting alongside our heroes in a shared contempt of the larger brutes. Following victory, these new monkeys find their way amongst the crew, playing pivitol roles in much that is to come.

This book is not about pirates. Pirates aren’t even mentioned until page 181, and then only in passing. But this book does have proper masted ships, and – as stated – space monkeys. However, in the final chapters the story itself seems that it’s only just getting started, as though this were the beginning of a series. Many questions remain unanswered. Perhaps the authors are intending to write sequels*, or perhaps wrapping up the storyline into a neat, complete package was never their intention to begin with. Indeed, rather than forcing the plot forward throughout the novel, the authors instead opted to provide great details into the world they created, and even moreso into the inhabitants of said world. Details of the Westerness “retro-culture” is shared in abundance, with much insight into the scholar-warrior mentality that shows an incredible respect for intellect and might alike. And that says nothing of the abundance of strategic exposition, ranging from hilltops to barroms. I never thought I could read a book about dwarves and space monkeys, and then afterwards feel like I’ve learned a bit of what it’s like to serve in the special forces. But that’s exactly the impression it left. I only hope I can remember the lessons in The Two-Space War the next time I’m barricaded in a bar while Elves try to take me hostage. If so, my mates and I just might survive the enounter.

*The sequel for this book, Guns of Two-Space, is available as an electronic copy starting October 2007. Purchase a DRM free download.
https://www.webscription.net/p-648-the-guns-of-two-space.aspx

Having read several historical novels of late, it occurs to me that one thing they most all lack is a proper story arc. For example, in a typical pirate biography Pirate A was born, raised, raids this city, raids that ship, yaddy-yaddy-yadda, and then dies. Real life rarely offers the proper format of dramatic elements that make for traditional storytelling, which can make for historical novels that are sometimes a bit winding and seemingly aimless.

No such danger with Victory in Tripoli – we have both a protagonist and an antagonist, a beginning, middle, and even an exciting conclusion. And we of course have pirates – it’s all here!

Long before the United Stated won its independence, the Barbary Nations had established a unique relationship with the major European powers – namely that of terror, extortion, and downright piracy. Not that the likes of Tripoli and Algiers could stand long against a full-on assault from any major navy, but apparently it had been determined that a war with the Muslims would be more costly than it was worth, and so the politics of pacification won out – resulting in countless annual bribes, gifts, and “tribute” given from across Europe to the various Muslim leaders.

Following the United States’ birth, it was originally determined most expedient to follow suit. But as the Barbary Nations’ demands increased, some American leaders began to consider the possibility that it might be cheaper (and more honorable) to simply build a navy and squelch the miscreants. It would likely have gone rather well from the get-go, except for all the politics, hand-wringing, and at times, straight-up incompetence which stalled out the war effort nearly each time it began to bear fruit.

“Victory in Tripoli” is a fascinating account of one of America’s most important – and most forgotten – early conflicts. Author Joshua London paints a vivid picture of the issues of the day and the personalities that ultimately shaped this piece of history. The material is aided by the fact that it feels so relevant – a war of mixed popularity with a Muslim nation aggravated by back-biting politicians is hardly unfamiliar territory – but London carefully leaves the reader to draw their own comparisons, thus keeping this book remarkably clear of the taint of current political temperaments.

A fun, timely, and deeply informative read.

Bravo Two Sierra is quite the change of pace from the usual pirate book. The story is completely modern and – like most modern piracy – it completely lacks the romantic panache that makes historical piracy so much fun. But that’s not to say this book isn’t entertaining. Indeed, more than anything I enjoyed the language. It reminded me of reading Treasure Island, except instead of words like “belay” and “scupper,” author Stephen R. Gagin has inundated his work with modern nautical terminology. Phrases such as “1MC” and “sea and anchor detail” abound, phrases frighteningly familiar from my navy days. Indeed, it was Gagin’s persistence in sharing the details of modern shipboard life that made this book most worthwhile.

Gagin goes to great lengths to develop the temperaments and motivations of the crewman of the USS Massasoit – the ill fated naval ship destined for a run-in with modern pirates – delving into the minds of enlisted and officer alike. And he doesn’t stop there, but goes on to pursue the inner workings and life-stories of a multitude of other characters, ranging from CIA operatives to Cuban police chiefs, and from prostitutes to satanic cult leaders. Many of these background stories are quite interesting, although all together they do take on a “cast of thousands” feel, and it can get difficult at times to keep track of who’s who.

The vast majority of Bravo Two Sierra was an intriguing and enjoyable read. It did suffer from more than its fair share of typos, which proved somewhat distracting at times (and other times quite amusing, as in a brief reference to the famous historical pirate, Captain “Harry Morgan”), but this doesn’t make this book any less valuable to anyone wishing for a fictitious peek into the life of the modern sailor. However, what might detract from some readers’ enjoyment is the latter portions of the book. While I don’t wish to give away any specifics of the story, it bears mention that the modern pirates in this book are brutal. The bloodshed builds as the book draws into its final chapters, and it isn’t pretty. Gagin pulls no punches in showing just how evil his antagonists can be, and takes the violence to a level that’s borderline sadistic. Some readers may find this exciting, but others will surely find it off-putting.

All told, I find myself in the unique position of being unable to recommend this book, but I wouldn’t NOT recommend it, either. Part Tom Clancey and part Stephen King, I found this book in parts to be gripping and enjoyable, yet in others it was downright savage. And so I think it best to just step back this time and let readers decide for themselves whether this sounds like a book for them or not – some of you should steer clear, while others may wish to pick up a copy right away. You’ll have to decide for yourself into which category you fall.

Now normally I side with the pirates – it’s in my nature. But in this story I just had to root for the naval captain. Sorry, not story – this is history. And a fascinating piece at that. Word has it that at the time these events gripped the nation (the OJ trials of the 1800s, I suppose,) but today not many have heard of the Somers. 19 year old Philip Spencer was a midshipman, the son of the secretary of war, and trouble. Insubordinant from the get-go and selfish to boot. That may be all forgivable, but when he’s stationed on the Somers, a training vessel manned almost entirely by children, well, that’s when I draw the line and playful mutiny becomes cold-blooded murder. Of course, Captain Mackenzie learned of the plans in advance and dealt with it as best he could, but you can read about that yourself.

This book was a fascinating read, and a rather easy read as well. It opens up some difficult moral questions about a captain’s responsibilities while at sea, where the safety of his crew and the letter of the law may not always coincide. Highly recommended.