Synopsis
20 Climbers. 20 Watchers. 5 Hunters. 1 Colossus.
After both their parents die during the live broadcast of the Tournament of the Colossus, Quinne promises to always keep Benn safe. Even from the deadly Hunters who scour the slums for those who can wield magic. But when Benn’s rare ability manifests during a public confrontation, the Hunters see them for what they truly are: riveting contestants.
Quinne will be a Climber, where she’ll be chased by Hunters and mechanized monstrosities through a trapped forest before attempting to climb a thousand-foot-tall destructive god. And Benn will be her Watcher, as his consciousness will be transferred into nothing more than a glorified camera in the form of a metal bird.
The odds of survival are low, the likelihood of death and blood great. Tune in today, for this Tournament will be a ratings juggernaut!
Review
Bill Adams takes disparate influences in his latest novel, Death Show Colossus, but uses each piece like the various flux-based powers of his characters to create a bloody, bold, and unabashed romp of a story that will have you on the edge of your seat.
At its core, Colossus takes elements of The Hunger Games and mixes those dystopian trappings with the magic of something like Mistborn before throwing them into a blender of “Beat ‘em up” sensibilities filtered through a pulpy, almost Tarantino-esque (Kill Bill, not Django) lens. And all this is wrapped around a clear homage to one of the best games of those PS2 era (iykyk).
Adams shows enormous restraint in telling this story, and that commitment to the narrative is evident throughout the entire plot. Where other authors would get lost in the weeds with world building or “what next,” Bill keeps the pedal to the metal and dares you to blink. This is not an epic fantasy. This is not hard sci-fi. This is a 90s grind house remake of The Never Ending Story written by Cannibal Corpse and directed by Hideo Kojima.
I found myself making comparisons to Stephenson’s excellent Snowcrash (the irreverent subversion of tropes and commitment to aesthetics) and oddly enough, Firefly (the Found Family that is pulled into a plot beyond them, but still functionally is agnostic of it).
Adams has a talent for language and imaginative worlds that few others dare dream. After every book I find myself saying, “there’s nothing else like it.” And while there are many things it’s like, Adams takes those influences and like a magician makes them disappear into one cohesive whole.
And I didn’t even mention the plot twists.
Is this book for you? Don’t ask me. Give it a read. It’s definitely going to be a love it or hate it book defying your ability to take the middle ground.
So what?
The ball is in your court, Slab Head.
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