Review - Legends & Lattés by Travis Baldree

Preamble

A friend of mine read this one, remarking on how much she loved it in an author group in which I find myself. The cover was intriguing, mostly because of how different it was. An orc and a demoness serving coffee. WTF is this s***? Glad I checked it out, because it was one of the most pleasant reads I’ve had in a while (and there have been a few).

A note about my reviews: I consider myself an appreciator, not a critic. I know first-hand what goes into the creation of art – the blood, the sweat, the tears, the risk. I also know that art appreciation is subjective and lernt good what mama tell’t me – if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. I’m not a school marm grading a spelling test – I’m a reader who enjoys reading. If a book is entertaining, well-written, and I get absorbed into it, five out of five. It’s either five stars or nothing these days – if I don’t like it, no review. Regardless, I wouldn’t even put a star rating system on my reviews but for the reality of storefronts like Amazon.

Take from that what you will.

Review – 5/5

I remember the first time I played Harvest Moon on the SNES… actually, no I don’t. But I remember the era – I was a teenager, raised on a steady diet of literature and video games, though many of those would probably be called ‘gritty.’ Sure, there was Dragonlance and Final Fantasy, Baldur’s Gate and The Lord Of The Rings. But there was also stuff like Naked Lunch by Burroughs, with its perverse mugwumps and psychedelic roach gas. One of my favourite authors, whom I read way too early, is Irvine Welsh. The guy writes about the festering septic wound on the underbelly of society in a darkly comic fashion. Murderous psychopaths, drug use, extreme language, pornographic descriptions – anything and everything is on the table with Welsh.

And there, almost a counter-point to all that nasty wasty stuff, was Harvest Moon. Oh, so innocent, it was almost anime-esque in its leanings, and the entire point of the game was to build a farm (and maybe a bit of focus on romancing and wedding some of those pixelated hotties – come on, I was a teenager). It was like a form of mouthwash to the filth that I would guzzle during most of my misspent youth (and misspent adulthood). It has always been one of my most beloved games, though tribute-giving fare like Stardew Valley has replaced it in modern times.

Legends & Lattes is like the Harvest Moon of fantasy literature. It’s been called cozy fantasy and I suppose that’s accurate. The stakes are low: there is a café to build, customers to woo, a hottie to romance – pretty literally in this demonic case. Like Harvest Moon, the physical stuff is mostly ever implied, whether that’s between orc warrior protagonist Viv and her paramour or Viv and her antagonists. Right at the beginning, the skull-splitting action is at an end. Viv hangs up her murdering axe (called Blackblood, no less) after getting a fancy magical bit of monster gut kit. It’s implied to be a good luck pearl or some such, torn from the gizzard of a fantastic beast, and placed in the heart of the café that Viv starts building for her retirement.

I mean, come on, the similarities are strong – in Harvest Moon it’s your grandfather’s farm, in this one it’s a rundown stable, but the arc of improving the place and making friends is quite familiar. The building itself gets tended and built upon, ‘crops’ are sold to the customers, which gives Viv more money to buy more stuff and hire more people and make new social connections.

Admittedly, Viv does have her enemies. And they do more damage than the storms in Harvest Moon. But there is only really a single real ‘enemy,’ and even he admits he was never really out to hurt Viv when he makes trouble for her. Viv imagines that she was always a difficult-to-like hard-ass, but she is much like the pussycat – or rather, dire cat – that turns out to be the inn’s mascot. Fiercely loyal and protective, but with a soft underbelly.

This book reminded me of why I like fantasy so much. It’s imaginative, it gives ‘the rules’ of narrative a bit of an ‘eff you’ (though not entirely – the classic story beats are still there) and decidedly goes its own way. Again, like Viv, the orc warrior who, like some kind of anti-Walter White, breaks good… and stays good.

As good as a latté and one of those o-face inducing pastries the rat-man chef bakes up for the masses.

Check it out on the ‘zon here.