Lirael

Lirael

By Garth Nix

Here I am, dipping back into the fantasy genre. What gives?!?!

Long time readers of my blog (all four of you) might be wondering: "Wait a minute, Ryan. You have professed over and over again you staunch hatred for fantasy and yet here you are, yet again, reading a fantasy book."

You're right! And my reasoning is twofold...

First, I'm running out of books! I have precious few books on my shelf at the moment and none of them look especially appealing. I'm heading to Taipei this weekend and there is a shipment of books coming in from Canada soon, so my dearth shall last no more than a few more weeks. But it shall be slim pickins' here in Hualien for a while yet. Oh, I'm sure there are some really good books among the seven that currently reside on my shelf but none of them are jumping out at me. So it's really a sort of crapshoot at this point. Let's hope I get lucky with what I have.

Second, I went back to fantasy because of a a promise I made to commenter when I read the first novel in Garth Nix's Old Kingdom Series (Sabriel, reviewed... poorly... here). I used Sabriel (unfairly) as a vehicle in which to lash out at fantasy fans and (incorrectly) accused Garth Nix of copying both Harry Potter and Game of Thrones (both of which were published after Sabriel). It was an embarrassing post to say the least.

A commenter named Merc took me to task on my glaring factual errors and dismissive review. One thing led to another and I promised him/her that I would read the second in the series since I hardly gave the first novel a chance amidst my own biases against the genre.

So here I am making good on a promise to an anonymous commenter from over a year ago who probably hasn't been back to my blog since. Don't anyone ever accuse me of not paying my dues.

Anyway, turns out Merc was right. Lirael, the second novel in the Old Kingdom Series, is far superior to Sabriel (which despite my dismissiveness and unfairness I still dislike). In fact I would go so far as to say the book is downright good.

Lirael picks up fourteen years after the end of Sabriel. Lirael is an orphaned daughter of the Clayr who has not yet received "the sight." Through a series of events Lirael comes to work in a library. During that time she uncovers a long buried secret.... about herself. This secret is directly responsible for her leaving the Clayr on a mission to save the Old Kingdom and have a novel named after her.

Meanwhile, Sabriel and Touchstone rule the Old Kingdom hand-in-hand and have sired two children: Sameth and Ellimere. Hamlet.... I mean Sameth is an ungrateful, whiny, indecisive shit of a kid who was educated in Ancelstierre (the country south of The Wall, completely devoid of magic and suspiciously similar to 1920s England). Sameth's Ancelstierrean school buddy, Nick, decides to visit the Old Kingdom (which is apparently akin to trying to visit North Korea) at precisely the same time as an ancient free magic entity has awoken and begun to cause serious trouble.... with zombies. Naturally, everyone's stories overlap and things happen.

Oh yeah, and there is also a character called the Disreputable Dog.

Despite my terrible attempt to recount the plot (it does requires a lot of explaining), this is really a decent little book (and when I say little, I mean 700 pages). So how do I go from hating the first book to liking the second? Good question. Easy answer.

Garth Nix is simply a better writer this time around. He does a far better job of explaining important elements of his world in Lirael. My major complaint about Sabriel was the fact that Nix didn't take enough time to explain key concepts such as Free Magic, Charter Magic, Charter marks, the Abhorsen's bells and their relationship with each other. Not only does he cover these things in Lirael but he also fills us in on some of the pertinent history of the Old Kingdom. Furthermore, in Lirael, Nix elaborates on the hierarchical system of the Old Kingdom and how it works. He discusses the bloodlines of the royal family, the Abhorsens and the Clayr. This made for a far more enjoyable read.

Don't get me wrong, I still don't like fantasy, I still don't like magic and the end of this book was TERRIBLE but I found that Lirael has softened me a little on the genre. It has softened me enough to finish the series (due to the terrible ending I actually have no choice in that matter), and perhaps enough to delve a little deeper into the pool of fantasy novels.

But don't think for a second this will get me to crack Lord of the Rings. No sir... I won't do it again.

A Storm of Swords: Book Three of a Song of Ice and Fire

A Storm of Swords

By George R.R. Martin

1216 pages later...

Who needs a drink?

I remember when I first started the Harry Potter series. I enjoyed the first and second book but it wasn't until the third and fourth books in which I thought J.K Rowling really hit her stride. In The Prisoner of Azkhaban and especially in the Goblet of Fire, I felt that Rowling had finally developed a sense of comfort and maneuverability within the mythological world she had created. By the fifth book in the series she had done away with the tedious recaps that plagued the opening chapters and was freed from constantly reminding her readers the personality quirks of specific characters. While these interludes and decidedly necessary, especially in the early books of a series, they tend to slow the narrative to a grinding halt at times just because the author needs to get the reader up to speed. Fair game, of course.

In turn, by the third book in any series, the reader has invested time, money and emotion into the characters, narrative and themes. By this point, the author doesn't need to grind the narrative to a halt nearly as often because you know that Hermione always studies hard or that Gryffindor really doesn't get along with Slytherin or that Snape really dislikes Harry. What was necessary backstory in book one becomes tacit understanding in book three. If the series has a cast of hundreds, one must logically assume that the reader has them (for the most part) figured out and doesn't need to be constantly reminded by the writer about their history and allegiances.

George R.R. Martin is such a writer.

While I am certainly not taking anything away from the first two books in Martin's epic saga A Song of Ice and Fire, A Storm of Swords is head and shoulders above its precursors largely because Martin, by this point, is free from the constraints of explanatory writing and can concentrate on simply moving the plot along at breakneck speed. Anyone picking this novel up more than likely understands the world of Westeros and the politics therein. Any minute detail that one has forgotten is wriggled into the narrative as deftly as possible without resorting to flashbacks or recaps.

And what a narrative it is!

For fear of spoilers, I will speak in generalities that are known for anyone thigh deep in this series but not yet at the end of this installment. A friend of mine scolded me after reading the second novel that George R.R. Martin obviously hates women given the way in which he treats his female characters throughout the narrative. While I would agree that many, if not all of the women in this series are treated rather harshly, it seems to me that the women neither give nor receive more or less punishment than the men and children in these books. Martin seems to be equally evil toward all his characters as if he's siting in his writing room thinking to himself: "You've had your leg cut off, your husband was butcher in front of your eyes and your newborn baby was skewered and cooked while you watched... what other atrocities can I heap onto your already frail psyche?"

Those familiar with the series know that Martin has no hang-ups with killing his most central characters. We've known that since the first novel, but it is here in the third novel where Martin's bloodbath really begins. Since Martin's story is populated by scores of characters, they often appear, disappear and die with jarring regularity. If you are gearing up for this book, do not get comfortable with anyone. Martin will only break your heart.

As with the previous novels, Martin divides the chapters by character. A Storm of Swords is told from the perspective of ten characters interacting in four distinct theaters of action: The South (King's Landing), The Riverlands, The Wall (and beyond) and Essos. This was the first book in the series in which I enjoyed each and every narrative strand (I was bored to tears by Sansa Stark's story in the first novel and Theon Greyjoy's story in the second novel, while obviously necessary, lacked any real excitement). In A Storm of Swords I especially liked the character progression for Jon Snow and Arya Stark who are rapidly gaining on Tyrion Lannister as my favorite characters in the series (Alas, Tyrion's story in this novel was my least favorite, though it was still damned good). And Jaime Lannister turns out to be a far more complex character than I could have ever assumed. At this point, I desperately hope Martin uses Cersei Lannister as one of his character perspectives in the next novel, A Feast for Crows. Or Varys....

Varys.

Frightening character.

Anyway...

I also love the way Martin toys with his readers. He spent two novels urging his readers to hate the House Lannister only to turn the entire series on its head in the third book and paint the family in a more sympathetic light as it disintegrates under the crushing reality of power. At this point in the story I couldn't even begin to guess who will rule Westeros at the conclusion of this conflict but for the first time I can honestly say that it doesn't matter. Each and every candidate for the Iron Throne has their merits (though I'm still throwing my hat in the ring for Daenerys).

My only real complaint about this novel and the series as a whole is its realism. It's a small complaint and has no bearing on my enjoyment of this series but it's worthy of a rant, so here goes:

When I reviewed the first book, A Game of Thrones, I commended the novel and the series for being the most realistic fantasy novel I have ever read thereby intently becoming the only fantasy novel (and series) I have ever enjoyed.  Martin downplayed the traditional ingredients of the fantasy genre and focused primarily on the human story rather than dragons and warlocks and spells. While these ingredients are ramped up in the second and third novels, they are still incidental elements to the broader story and haven't yet made much difference in the narrative (though it's coming, one can plainly see). Furthermore, Martin has thrown in enough non-traditional fantasy fare (reanimation, wargs and wights) to entice non-fantasy readers such as myself. More succinctly, Martin a capable writer and doesn't need to crutch on gimmicky elements to tell his story.

However, his ultra-realism is beginning to bite him in the ass. With such a crippling (economically, socially, demographically, psychologically and ecologically) war of succession raging throughout Westeros and as many as six kings claiming the throne and maintaining influence over particular parcels of land, what of the common citizens of Westeros, or as Martin calls them: the smallfolk? Kings are only kings because the majority of people allow authority in return for protection of their rights. It's what Thomas Hobbes calls the Social Contract. Without said contract, society reverts to a "state of nature" which is "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short." This defines the current state of Westeros perfectly, but Westeros is a society with a Social Contract (or one presumes). So what gives?

In Martin's version of Westeros, not a single king has ever once discussed a matter of state. You know things such as the rising price of grain or price tariffs or the impact that this devastating war should be having on seasonal harvests and, in turn, their food supply. There is a modicum of justice but it seems to exist only for those involved in the War (i.e. those committing crimes against the state). Rarely, if ever, do any of the kings, queens, hands or greatjons hold court for the grievances of their populations. Hell, rarely are their populations mentioned. You know, the populations from which they gain their legitimacy. In short, these would-be kings spend all their time conniving to consolidate their power via war, intrigue and subterfuge and absolutely zero time attending to the affairs of the state or the rights of their citizens. What is this, North Korea?

What of the common people? Are they starving? Are they scared? Are they being butchered? Are there mass migrations of refugees moving toward safer territories in the Free cities or the relatively safe lands of the Eyrie? If the land is not being tilled or pastured and entire villages and towns have been abandoned (or slaughtered), where is the food coming from? Are taxes being levied and collected? If so, by who? Knights have zero regard for the lives of the people they are supposed to protect. Why are these guys vying for the throne anyhow? Not a single one of them seems to have a grasp on how to rule over actual people. People with jobs and trades and families and such.

Isn't it plainly obvious to a blacksmith or a farmer or a shepherd or a prostitute that their government quite obviously doesn't give a shit about them, whatsoever? Doesn't it gall them that the people who supposedly rule over them plot and counter plot against each other without a single thought about their people's welfare? By the third of fourth political assassination, wouldn't the common innkeeper in the local ale tavern say: "Anon, methinks yonder royals want not heed our grievances. Perchance we could undertake improved governance." Wouldn't the people of this realm have risen against such blatant corruption? Why isn't there a people's revolution against the stifling and brazenly prejudice tradition of entitlement in Westeros? Christ, if you are not born into one of the ruling families (either major or minor), your life is worthless. It's oligarchic apartheid for chrissakes!

Certainly there are one or two low-born or bastard-born people in Westeros that see the complete disregard for governance and would begin a grassroots organization to bring rule of law and justice to the land. Sure, it took Medieval Europe a couple of thousand years and more than their fair share of war to get to that point, but the war in Martin's series makes the shenanigans between the Carolingians and Merovingians look like a lesson in state diplomacy and bureaucratic prudence. And we all know what happened to them, don't we...

/end rant

Anyway, like I said, it's a small complaint and one I am more than happy to overlook. Despite it's realism, A Song of Ice and Fire is fantasy and one is supposed to suspend their disbelief. If you haven't yet read this series, get going. You won't be disappointed.

Other reviews from A Song of Ice and Fire:

A Game of Thrones
A Clash of Kings
A Feast for Crows

A Game of Thrones: Book One of A Song of Ice and Fire

A Game of Thrones: Book One of A Song of Fire and Ice

By George R.R. Martin

(Some spoilers. Nothing major)

This is the first book I read on my new Kindle (or any sort of e-reader, for that matter). Got it for my birthday a few weeks back and I have not been disappointed. There was an adjustment period, but by the middle of the book I hardly noticed the difference from a real book. I guess this ushers in a whole new era of reading for me and given my proximity to English books, I can honestly say I'm stoked about the prospect of reading whatever. I. want.

Now, onto George R.R. Martin's genre-arching, mega-selling, multi-billion dollar ultra-hit fantasy series A Game of Thrones.

I have to admit I was more than a little hesitant to pick this book up as I have had terrible luck with the fantasy genre over my reading career. Actually, that's a really nice way of saying that I flat-out detest fantasy as a genre. I think Id rather read Harlequin romances before fantasy if that gives you an indication of my loathing for the genre.

And don't tell me I haven't tried. Fantasy freaks are always telling me I haven't read this yet, or that yet. Save it. Your favorite genre sucks. I tried Tolkien. Lord of the Rings is one of the only books I have ever started and not finished (I got about 250 pages in before Tom Bombadil made me throw this bloviated heap of trash out the window). I have tried on a couple of occasions to plow my way through one of the Shannara books by Terry Brooks (I think it was The Elfstones of Shannara or the Firepits of Shannara or the Teacups of Shannara. I forget). I have (grudgingly) read the first three books in the Narnia series by C.S. Lewis, two books by Neil Gaiman, all the Harry Potters and one of the Dark Tower books by Stephen King, so don't tell me I haven't sampled a cross-section. The only thing I learned in all that reading is that I did not enjoy a single page of any of the books mentioned above (except Harry Potter, I admit).

I always find fantasy novels get bogged down in contrived verbal nonsense. Long-winded introductions where titles and land-holdings and prior achievements are bandied about. Honor, courtesy and gallantry slow the plot down to a snail's pace. If there is one thing I can't stand it's entertainment that doesn't get on with the plot (this is why I hate musicals). It's always an Elvish Lord pledging his unyielding allegiance to the Dwarfish Baron over six and a half pages with talk of dragons and enchantments and defending the Keep.

Ugh.

Give me science fiction any day of the week.

I think my dislike for the fantasy genre stems from my passion for real medieval history. Fantasy is a weird, bastardized version of a very misunderstood and completely fascinating period in Western history and I find that the genre does much harm in most people's understanding of Europe and the Middle East during the era of knights and castles and chivalry.

Which gets me to George R.R. Martin.

By no stretch of the imagination am I suggesting that Martin remains loyal to medieval history. He has, after all, created his own world a la Middle Earth (or Shannara) populated by feuding families and the hint of mystical creatures. But his focus (at least in book one) on the political wrangling of the Seven Kingdoms and the eventual disintegration of the alliance in the wake of King Robert's death ring true to the brutal game of succession that existed in medieval Europe. I was reminded on more that one occasion of the centuries-long battle between the Carolingians and Merovingians in early Medieval France and many of the events in the book mirror real events in the early history of England when it was still divided into the kingdoms of Essex, Wessex and the like (Winterfell is quite obviously Scotland) as well as China and the Asian Steppe. That's cool.

While there were moments in the book where Martin lapsed into the tired cliches of a fantasy writer, he mostly maintains the plot and delivers literally dozens of compelling characters (none of which his is shy about killing off) and enough political intrigue to make Julian Assange blush. While he hints at the notion of dragons and giants, it would seem that the world of the Seven Kingdoms is rooted in reality (mostly) and there, mercifully, exists no magic in this world.

And that's how Martin was able to sucker this fantasy-hating reader in. By resisting the urge to fill the pages with wizards and warlocks and ballrogs and trolls, Martin was forced to conceive of a story based on the strength of his characters rather than the cleverness of his creatures. While I have not fallen for the series like others readers seem to have, I am looking forward to reading the second book in the series, although not right away. Think I'll start in on the HBO series tonight.

Oh, and there seem to be zombies in this book, which scores major points with this guy.

Other reviews from A Song of Ice and Fire:

A Clash of Kings
A Storm of Swords
A Feast for Crows

Endymion Spring

Endymion Spring

By Matthew Skelton

Warning: Mild spoilers ahead. Not that it should matter, this book sucks. Just so you know where I stand on this one right away.

My wife hates to go to the movies with me. Not that I go to a lot of movies. I find sitting through two hours of Hollywood drivel to be only slightly less annoying than 7 a.m. road work on a Saturday. Therefore I mostly stay away. But from time to time I get suckered in and I am forced to remind myself and my wife why bringing me to a theater is a bad idea.

I can usually keep my cool through Act One. The novelty of the theater and the hope that somehow this movie will be better than all the others tends to keep me behaved, but somewhere around the 25 minute mark I begin to squirm. It's usually around this time that I lean over to my wife and let her know exactly how the movie will end (I know, I'm worse than Hitler).

From there things get worse. I will start anticipating insipid dialog before the actors can act it. At first it's only a whisper to my right (or left, whichever side my wife is sitting), but it gradually gets loud enough for people sitting around me to hear. Luckily, I live in Taiwan where few, if any, movie-goers have the audacity to tell me to shut up. They're all too busy answering their cell phones to do that, anyway.

After an unnecessary bathroom break and a quick stroll around the lobby I'll usually meander back into the theater for the final act and, lo and behold, I was right about the end, much to my wife's chagrin and embarrassment. As the credits roll I'm usually heard yelling "Crap!" at the screen and on more than one occasion I've tried to rally my wife to ask for our money back.

I'm not proud of this behavior. I just have little patience for stupid. And, aside from Taiwanese television and British tabloid newspapers, Hollywood movies the most flagrantly vacuous examples of pop culture there are. Formulaic codswallop from start to finish. I simply don't understand why people still shell out their hard-earned cash for crap. And when it happens to me, I lose my shit.

Thankfully, I didn't buy Endymion Spring. Nor is it the sort of book I would ever normally pick up and read. I generally avoid young adult fiction. But my accessibility to good books fluctuates quite a bit and I often have to read stuff I would dream of reading if I had access to unlimited books (This is actually the argument that has me very seriously considering the purchase of a Kindle or E-Reader. I don't know how much longer I can manage these dry spells).

Endymion Spring is a Hollywood movie in print form. Mindless, predictable formulaic drivel. What makes it worse is that I can't lean over and pester my wife about its inanity. I'm stuck with it. I'm stuck in a movie theater watching a Jennifer Aniston rom-com all alone, and all the doors are locked.

Endymion Spring chronicles an annoying brother and sister tandem (Blake and Duck) who find what seems to be a magical book in one of the Oxford University Libraries. The parallel story involves Endymion Spring, apprentice to Johann Gutenberg and his discovery of the same book a half millennium prior. The story jumps from past to present, hinting at the involvement of Faust and revolving around a but of professors who seem to fetishize books, often to the point of creepiness.

Seems everyone wants this book, even though it is never explained what this book can or even might be capable of doing. For all it's supposed powers, the reader is only graced with a few silly riddles from within and not even the baddie at the end explains what, exactly she plans to DO with this book once she has possession of it. Does it entitle the owner to fame and fortune? Does it preclude the end of times? Does it cook a mean paella? I mean, would it have killed Skelton to give the reader an idea of the power of this most-magical-of-all books? He simply reiterates how supremely wonderful this book is and how it chooses who is allowed to read it and attacks those not deemed worthy.

Which then begs the question, if the book chooses its own readers and attacks all the others, it doesn't seem to need Blake's help does it? Seems like the book has things about covered, what with its ability to attack. It's got a bit of a leg up on all the other inanimate books in the library that can't defend themselves against vandals and theives. Furthermore, it seems to me if you aren't the chosen reader, you simply aren't cracking that spine no matter what you do. Hell, only Blake can read what's in the book, rending the book useless to everyone else, lest Blake decides to share which, being Harry Potter, he doesn't. But, naturally, the baddies never see it that way. They figure yelling at a kid will definitely get him to do their bidding, no further questions. A plan brilliant in its simplicity, no?

Anyway, Skelton sets up all his characters and you can pretty much map out the remainder of the book by page 50. Everyone knows exactly who the baddie is right off the bat. And of course Blake is an unlikely hero with an intelligent yet spunky sister named Duck (cause she wears a raincoat, get it?). Some of the sub-plots (the seemingly insurmountable martial problems of Blake and Duck's parents, the involvement of Jolyon and Psalamanzer) are wrapped up so quickly and sloppily I wonder whether Skelton even had a writing plan. There are no surprising reveals or dramatic turns. It's just so darned straight forward and cliche. It's so cliche that toward the end when the baddie is explaining their treachery to Blake. Rather than simply finishing the job, she actually says things like "Foolish boy," and "You didn't think you could outsmart me, did you?" Seriously. She actually says these things!

The worst part is that Skelton actually leaves an open ending suggesting that I might be interested in a sequel, should the first print run sell well. Of course, it had just enough Harry Potter-esque fantasy in it to have made the New York Times Bestseller List, meaning that if a sequel just might see the light of day. Which means there are alot of people out there that liked this book. Shudder.

I know, I know... whatever gets kids to read is fine, right? OK, sure I can buy that and I wouldn't chastise anyone for reading or even liking this book. But is it too much to ask for YA writers to stray away from the Rowling Paradigm for a while and try to write something new and interesting? Another one of these and I'm liable to lose my shit, Hollywood movie style.

And that won't be pretty.