Powers by John B. Olson
B&H Publishing Group, 2009
Review by Debra Louise Scott
Olson attempts a book about gypsy life in the swamps of Louisiana contrasted with a jazz musician in New Orleans who are both stalked by a never explained evil called the Badness, and of course a government conspiracy. This would sound interesting if it actually worked. Apparently this is a sequel to Shade, but it doesn’t say that anywhere nor does it refer to it in the writing. There is a certain amount of suspense in all of it, but mostly in trying to figure out what the heck is going on and waiting for a reveal that never reveals itself. The characters are initially interesting, but soon become predictable stereotypes. It appears that he understands neither gypsies, nor jazz musicians. He does understand Christian fundamentalist morality plays however, which portray the world as an evil place with only one remedy for life.
The gypsy girl, Mari, is part of a Bible-based separatist cult handed down through her family. She obeys a strictly literal interpretation of obscure Bible passages and is trained in some useful military strategy and tactics with neither understanding nor question. For the most part, her dialogue is simplistic, with an always degrading self-image as an ignorant swamp girl. (However, in one part she inexplicably breaks character with a more sophisticated syntax when she meets up with her kin, making one wonder if the ignorant talk is an act, but it turns out it is just a slip up by the author.)
The jazz musician, (Jazz, of course) is portrayed as greedy, self-serving, atheistic, and tormented by a sudden onslaught of visions. He is chased by a never explained band of mysterious black-cloaked hunters and refuses to believe in the complete altruism of the gypsies trying to keep him safe, nor in their firm conviction that he is some kind of prophet. For some reason the government appears to also be after both him and the gypsies. A connection is alluded to, but never developed into any coherent entity. Perhaps that was in the first book.
One never truly understands the nature of the threat nor why this conspiratorial society was so interested in Jazz, the gypsies and the grandfather’s Bible. Nor is it ever explained what happened to the grandfather who was so adamant that “I must be buried standing.” and is in fact never buried at all. After the publisher puts this in large print on the back cover I expected to at least find that there were some consequences to this. There weren’t.
Other incongruencies include a portion where Mari jumps in the water to evade detection from helicopters and police with high-powered search equipment. Ok, that’s possible I suppose. But then she crawls out on a dock and hides in a shadow. I kept wondering how all the people chasing her didn’t think to check out the wet footprints and drips from her clothes. In another segment, she gets cornered in a dead end alley, and somehow manages to walk out past them without their noticing. That’s attributed to her psychic power, which later turns out to be prayer. As it turns out, if you pray hard enough, nobody can see you.
The Deus-Ex-Machina climax to the whole thing was almost laughable. If you’re going to use a classical Greek plot device, you really should write on a par with say, Aristophanes.
Olson could possibly have delved further into the fanaticism of the Bible cult or defined the connections between the different members of this group better, as he seemed to have a better grasp of that aspect. I wish I could have figured out whether the group that was their nemesis was meant to be after them as a race, or on religious grounds, or a blood feud. I also wondered why he never explained the government/military infiltration. Or perhaps I simply missed the point somewhere while the repetitive dialogue was lulling me to sleep.
Word Seeds 
Powers by John B. Olson
B&H Publishing Group, 2009
Review by Debra Louise Scott
Olson attempts a book about gypsy life in the swamps of Louisiana contrasted with a jazz musician in New Orleans who are both stalked by a never explained evil called the Badness, and of course a government conspiracy. This would sound interesting if it actually worked. Apparently this is a sequel to Shade, but it doesn’t say that anywhere nor does it refer to it in the writing. There is a certain amount of suspense in all of it, but mostly in trying to figure out what the heck is going on and waiting for a reveal that never reveals itself. The characters are initially interesting, but soon become predictable stereotypes. It appears that he understands neither gypsies, nor jazz musicians. He does understand Christian fundamentalist morality plays however, which portray the world as an evil place with only one remedy for life.
The gypsy girl, Mari, is part of a Bible-based separatist cult handed down through her family. She obeys a strictly literal interpretation of obscure Bible passages and is trained in some useful military strategy and tactics with neither understanding nor question. For the most part, her dialogue is simplistic, with an always degrading self-image as an ignorant swamp girl. (However, in one part she inexplicably breaks character with a more sophisticated syntax when she meets up with her kin, making one wonder if the ignorant talk is an act, but it turns out it is just a slip up by the author.)
The jazz musician, (Jazz, of course) is portrayed as greedy, self-serving, atheistic, and tormented by a sudden onslaught of visions. He is chased by a never explained band of mysterious black-cloaked hunters and refuses to believe in the complete altruism of the gypsies trying to keep him safe, nor in their firm conviction that he is some kind of prophet. For some reason the government appears to also be after both him and the gypsies. A connection is alluded to, but never developed into any coherent entity. Perhaps that was in the first book.
One never truly understands the nature of the threat nor why this conspiratorial society was so interested in Jazz, the gypsies and the grandfather’s Bible. Nor is it ever explained what happened to the grandfather who was so adamant that “I must be buried standing.” and is in fact never buried at all. After the publisher puts this in large print on the back cover I expected to at least find that there were some consequences to this. There weren’t.
Other incongruencies include a portion where Mari jumps in the water to evade detection from helicopters and police with high-powered search equipment. Ok, that’s possible I suppose. But then she crawls out on a dock and hides in a shadow. I kept wondering how all the people chasing her didn’t think to check out the wet footprints and drips from her clothes. In another segment, she gets cornered in a dead end alley, and somehow manages to walk out past them without their noticing. That’s attributed to her psychic power, which later turns out to be prayer. As it turns out, if you pray hard enough, nobody can see you.
The Deus-Ex-Machina climax to the whole thing was almost laughable. If you’re going to use a classical Greek plot device, you really should write on a par with say, Aristophanes.
Olson could possibly have delved further into the fanaticism of the Bible cult or defined the connections between the different members of this group better, as he seemed to have a better grasp of that aspect. I wish I could have figured out whether the group that was their nemesis was meant to be after them as a race, or on religious grounds, or a blood feud. I also wondered why he never explained the government/military infiltration. Or perhaps I simply missed the point somewhere while the repetitive dialogue was lulling me to sleep.