Path of Daggers - Robert Jordan

So, I've been wanting to review a Jordan book for some time. At the time of this review, I began my reread for the last novel, while also reading George R.R. Martin's Dance with Dragons and Brandon Sanderson's Way of Kings. So I got pretty far before I could begin taking notes. So, I decided to start my reviews where I remember the series beginning to really slacken. Note that as with my Erikson reviews,  I am not going to follow the usual format of the fantasy five. The characters of this series and the world itself are too far along, too deeply established and writing a critique of that nature would be critiquing the entire series, something that i am not yet prepared to do. So be aware that if you havent read it, and hate spoilers, this review is probably not for you. Note, that this was written before my reread progressed past PoD, and certainly before reading Memories of Light.

The novel previous to this one was a Crown of Swords. And while not as strong as Eye of the World, the Dragon Reborn, or Fires of Heaven, it was still pretty entertaining, and the series moved along well, one more Forsaken killed, and another entire kingdom subjugated. But in Path of Daggers, we begin to lose the thread.  And it starts with the name:

One of the objections I have to modern fantasy naming conventions is that the titles of books are becoming more and more mainstream, more generalized. In the 80s and 90s that made sense, no one wanted to be caught dead reading fantasy.  George R. R. Martin is the worst for this: Game of Thrones (a story about playing musical toilets), Feast for Crows (anything dead), Storm of Swords (History of the War of the Roses). Erikson is also bad for it, I mean Gardens of the Moon? (a light hearted romp about star crossed lovers) These names tell you nothing about the novels, and a title should, at least for a genre specific fantasy book. Robin Hobb's books are well named: Ship of Magic, you knew exactly what that one was going to be about. Assassins Apprentice, there again. I feel that Jordan sort of opened this Pandora's box. That said, the titles, while they could have been the titles of mass market fiction books (Eye of the World, three teenagers get trapped on a tropical island with a deadly secret. Or Fires of Heaven, a business executive learns that his company is selling a defective product and gets blackmailed when he tries to blow the whistle) they do actually relate, even though the connection can be subtle. Crown of Swords is the name the Laurel Crown of Illian takes after the siege is over (the crown is actually laurels interwoven with daggers) so the title is relevant, even if you don't learn why untill the last chapter. Path of Daggers, well, it didn't become clear to me until now what the relevance was, which after eight reads, shows the connection was indeed subtle.

Path of Daggers, here the spoilers start, is about the return of the Seanchean. And the connection, is a reference in an earlier novel to a Seanchean saying, "on the heights, the paths are paved with daggers". That's it, that's the relevance. There are no special daggers, or special paths, just a saying that appears once in the series, and could be attributable to anyone, much less the Seanchean. This was not a good title, and few indeed must have been the readers who caught it. I'd also like to note that, the action with the Seanchean doesn't even begin until around page 500. That's a long time to wait for a title reveal. However, I have to say that all the Seanchean chapters are excellent, in all the books. My wife would say that the Seanchean people are probably a play on an unfortunate Orientalism, as many of the traits of the Seanchean (not physically, Jordan makes that clear, but their armour, ritual head shaving, systems of honour, etc.,) bear a small resemblance to various Asian cultures. Orientalism is the viewpoint, the western visitor looking in on a baffling and strange culture. They remind one a bit of Raymond Feist's Empire Trilogy, or Magician: Master, where Pug, a young western lad is enslaved in fruit groves on another planet whose denizens have an Asian bent. Still, it's the outsider looking in perspective that makes it so enjoyable, so I don't feel the slightest bit of guilt for really enjoying the culture of Seanchean.

It is through these sequences that we see the next great battle, which is Rand skirmishing with the foreign invaders in the mountains north of Illian. Have I said Jordan writes a good battle? Because he does. I think the key of drawing a great battle on a page is the acknowledgment that you can't describe the whole thing. Battalions and divisions get separated, friends in the same troop might end up miles apart by the end. So there are gaps, but enough perspectives exist to do it justice. Even the chapter title acknowledges this fact, "fog of war"

Moving on, the prologues to the Wheel of Time are usually pretty good. You get a glimpse of what the enemy is doing, what new things are afoot, what could possibly be the main action for the novel. That's what a prologue is for right? So why on earth were the border lords introduced? At least ten pages were devoted to describing in detail the look and feel of the lords of Shienar, Arafel, Kandor, and Saldea. And for what? They are never mentioned again in this book. Poor choice. And, frankly, when they are mentioned again... In a series that has lost many adherents for being far too long, why was this subplot even necessary. I agree that all the lords of the continent must acknowledge the Dragon Reborn, and that most of the battle against the shadow should happen on their lands, but why this useless way? We have no answer in Path of Daggers.

One good thing about the prologue, is that the Brown Aes Sedai, Verin Mathwin, who we've been wondering about for thousands of pages, finally begins to show some of what makes her freaky. We find her weaving Compulsion, a forbidden branch of the art of the One Power. So a mark against her, but we don't yet know why, and as it becomes clear, it's use appears to help Rand. The reveal, which doesn't occur until Sanderson takes over, is worth it, even if it took 13 books to reach.


Verin, By Benjamin Rogue at Kindling Little Passions

Around this time, and for the first time really in Crown of Swords, we learn that the Dark One can actually bring people back to life. This is a dangerous line to cross in fantasy, though some authors cross it with impunity. Immortality is one thing, being hard to kill, is one thing. Dying and brought back, that can lead to story integrity problems. Chief among them, is the lack of consequences. If characters who die can willy nilly be brought back to life, the drama in a piece of writing begins to unravel. When Whiskeyjack and Hedge die in the Malazan Book of the Fallen, you weep for them, and for the loss their friends must face. But both come back, and, while Erikson's epic is masterful, I'm not sure this was a great ploy. Our grief over Whiskeyjack's death becomes expectation and anticipation for his rebirth.  While this itself is dramatic, it may not have been the strongest choice.  In one of the most recent books published, Anomander Rake, the wielder of Dragnipur, is killed. It's heart wrenching, but at the same time, I don't really know that he's actually dead. And until the series is over, I won't know. This can be a useful ploy, hell look at Christ. Or his fictional cousin, Gandalf. But at least in Tolkien's epic, no body was ever found, it's just assumed that any dude who falls down a never ending chasm with a Balrog is going to die.

But Jordan has supplied the background for this possibility to work, in the very first book no less, and because of that I think it works. Also, as book Fourteen was finally just published, it allows for more villains to be created without having to, at page twenty-thousand, suddenly introduce a villain who is even a badder bad ass than the twelve other bad asses we already saw die.

The Forsaken, uncredited, but I think Saliba

In this case, the ground work is the premise of the series: the Dark One, imprisoned by the creator for all of time, because he wants to regain his freedom and break the wheel of time thus unhinging all of reality. way back in book one, Ba'alzammon, the original bad ass, told us that this battle against the Dark one had occurred countless times, and that the Dark One was The Lord of Death, and that he could bring Lews Therins wife Ilyena back to life if he swore forswore the light. Well, he wasn't lying.

And at least two of the forsaken were returned to life. They have new bodies, I guess the dark one can't regenerate human flesh, but he can siphon a human soul into a human vessel. We don't know who they are, but we know they can't have been killed by balefire, that includes Ravin, Sammael, and Belal. But who are they? One we know was a man, returned to life as a woman. Interesting choice that, interesting for fantasy. They are, Orangar and Arangar. The other, is clearly insane, reborn also as a male, but with a whole face. My guess is that these two were the original forsaken that Rand killed in book one, Aginor and Balthamel. Don't google search that info as I just did, they make no bones about spoiling identities there. Particularly because Aginor was known to be insane. It was as he who created the Shadowspawn, trollocs, myddraal, etc. His revival leads to the possibility that he could create new and better Shadowspawn.

Then there is Moridin and Cyndane. Or, to use the old tongue meanings of those names, Death and Last Chance. Morridin takes a larger role in Path of Daggers, and is shown to be in charge of Moghedien, Cyndane and Graendal. I believe he must be Ishmael reincarnated. The real mystery to me is Cyndane, my first thought is that she must be Lanfear. She is reincarnated as a beautiful woman, but Lanfear wasn't just beautiful, she was breathtaking, astounding, so naturally she's pissed she didn't get her old body back. That said, Lanfear's obsession was Lews Therin, and we see little of that obsession in Path of Daggers.

By Seamus Gallagher, is Cyndane Lanfear reborn?

Ok, one of the things that makes this series suck until Jordan died is anything to do with Elayne Trakand, the Daughter Heir of Andor. This is compounded with frustrating and annoying sequences with the Sea Folk, and the Kinswomen. I just don't care. I don't know why Jordan spent so much time on the Sea Folk. The entire story takes place on one gigantic landmass, one continent, the sea folk are periphery at best. And once Traveling is invented, they are made completely redundant. They have fast ships and they have foug the Seanchean. Once Semirhage singlehandedly destroys the nation of Seanchean, in later books, the Aryth Ocean is entirely unnecessary. They're utterly annoying, and a complete waste of time. And in the thousand pages left in the series that I have not read, there is no way short of the entire nation of Sea Folk getting sealed up with the Dark One that can justify the sheer number of pages spent on detailing them. I have a feeling that Jordan wanted to balance out the Aiel, Jordan is big on balance, one of his principle cliches: Maintaining the Balance. Aiel dwell in the desert, and they have a prophecy that involves the Dragon Reborn. Therefore, there just be a race of sea dwellers with a similarly structured prophecy. But, it's too late in the series, and, as I said, the battleground for this conflict is landlocked. They are utterly irrelevant.

Ok, I lied, they can do one important thing. They know how to manipulate the weather with the One Power. And in the early pages of the Path of Daggers, they use the Bowl of Winds and alleviate the Dark One's touch on the weather. That was a good bit, but he could have tied up a story end right there and sent the Sea Folk on their merry way. One thing I thought regarding the Bowl of Winds: visually the scene was spectacular, and I very much enjoyed how each group of One Power users over the entire continent had a different theory on what had taken place. But. Jordan didn't really explain the how of it. This is one thing that I feel Sanderson could have explained better if he'd written this portion. Sanderson is great with describing the how and why of magic.  I suppose that it could have been done very poorly, but weather magic could be cool. After all, temperature and pressure are almost magic already, and requires a large understanding of science to understand. At any rate, it was adequately done, so I can't complain.

Elayne, Aviendha, and Nynaeve using the Bowl of the Winds

I never wished for this series to be smaller, but here at the end I wished that more time would have been allowed for the actual Last Battle. For Tarmon Gaiden. So much great material is hinted at about the War of Power. Entire cities destroyed with balefire, the madness of the male Aes Sedai, one who executed a singing ring of Aiel a thousand people strong, while the rest of the citizenry evacuated. The betrayal at the Gates of Hevan, how Aginor tested the Myddraal ability to sink into shadows to the destruction of over twenty of the horrid creatures. Jo cars, shocklances, the opening of the Bore into the dark ones prison and the destruction of the Collam Disaan. Thats what I want to see more of, who are the new dread lords? What city will fall first? Not this tiresome succession in Andor, and these idiotic windfinders who have their panties permanently knotted.  By the way, if you haven't gotten your Age of Legends fix, read Bob Leeman's fanfic here, it describes some excellent, and well researched Age of Legends stories.

And if this load of wind finders weren't enough there are the Kinswomen, this secret organization of women that take in White tower runaways and wilders. Much is made over their age, that Aes Sedai used to live longer, and that these Kinswomen somehow do live longer, several hundred years longer. Well, so what? A lot is made of it, and I'm not sure why. Possibly it has to do with Egwene's desire to do away with the Oath Rod, which she believes, shortens the lives of those who wear it. Is this getting us anywhere nearer to Tarmon Gaiden though? Is it?

Egwene holding Vora's Sa'Angreal

The second reason Jordan has the Kinswomen around is for their numbers, apparently they number well over a thousand of them, all unaffiliated with the tower. The White Tower, has "known" of the groups existence, but assumes the group is at best forty to fifty women deep. Of course, at the rate of say ten washouts a year, including runaways, simple addition would place their numbers at large enough to take on the tower after 400 years. No matter, what matters is that Egwenes wants to mobilize them. Now, if the point of the book series were the history of the White Tower, maybe this would be useful or important, nut as it stands, given how contentious the lot of them are, and how snooty actual Aes Sedai are, the task of bringing them in seems monumental, and worthy of a series of its own. If. If Jordan didn't do such a shitty job of writing women.

It took me a long time to come to that realization. And not all the women characters are poorly drawn, but they do adhere to some egregious stereotypes, and comparing his women characters to Martin's provides some great examples. However, I am going to save that comparison for another post. Suffice it to say Kinswomen, are another terrible waste of space.

Just skip the chapter "A Pleasant Ride." You'll miss absolutely nothing of importance.

On the subject of character change and growth, a comparison between Rand and Perrin is warranted.  Rand, who is the story's seminal hero, has been the only one to experience dynamic character change. On the other hand, stolid Perrin, slow to anger, deliberate, thoughtful, and duty-bound provides a much subtler character change. Subtle, because at first I really didn't think he experienced any change. Initially, his struggle, to choose between the axe and the hammer (obvious foils for war and peace,) is still ongoing eight books after it was introduced. That said, when your story is twenty thousand pages long, I suppose you have to play the long game for character development. The problem though is that Perrin will never choose the axe, or at least he will only choose it to uphold duty, not because he is a brutal killer. We've known that since book one. 

Perrin, by Seamus Gallagher

So is the struggle really a struggle? I'd say that this hasn't been the operative character change in several books.  What's going on now, is indeed much more subtle.  Perrin is adjusting to married life, and coming to embrace his latent powers as part-wolf.  The former is an interesting, though frequently sexist thread; the rather hackneyed combat between the sexes that Jordan frequently indulges in.

In this case, stolid, loyal Perrin, has a flamboyant and extremely jealous wife in Faile, such that the magnificent Berelain, probably one of Jordan's unintensionally most brilliant female characters, causes undue strife in Perrin's marriage. Not because the beautiful Berelain is a temptation for him, quite the opposite, but because Faile refuses to believe that he is not, was not, and could never be tempted. So the character change is actually somewhat brilliant in that Perrin learns to have an adult relationship with a woman. I myself took years to learn the ettiquette of relationships, and in particular, living with a woman. That said, while these musings are the benefit of hindsight, this Berelain/Faile thing, amusing in book four, drags by book 8. Particularly when, after Rands abduction, all I want to hear about is the main action, and instead we are dragged through a long sequence of Perrin's attempts to flee Berelain. What makes it all the more useless is that Min predicted in book 3 or book 4, that she was going to fall for a perfect man in White. Obviously, Galad.

One nice thing in PoD, is that one storyline is, if not tied up, the finally tethered to the man plot. the exiled Queen of Andor, who has been held captive in Amador, is finally sucked into Perrins ta'veren whirlpool. The scenes are neat, well done, and exciting. However, one wonders why Jordan just didn't tie up that thread. If Morgase had just told Perrin that she was the Queen, we could have avoided the awful slog in Winters Heart and Crossroads of Twilight. I get that he must be leading to a very specific reveal, but for a very minor character, it seems like a poor choice to drag this out. I don't much like the ending of this book, and part of that is Faile and Morgase abduction by the Shaido, but that reveal wouldn't have changed the next book all that much. It would just make grtting those two women back, that much more important.

Queen Morgase, another by Seamus

While we're on the topic of Morgase, for someone lauded as a good, fair, and wise ruler, her character is just as headstrong and idiotic as her daughter, and just as irritating. I liked her coming out from under Ravin's Compulsion (Compulsion being a forbidden use of the One Power, because of its obvious, slave inducing potential). I liked her discovering Sebban Balwer in Amador after Nialls assassination, her emotional state after Valda rapes her, but everything else was, well, dumb.

While we're on the topic of Andor, can I just say that the Trakands (mother and daughter) insistence that Rand cannot 'give' Elayne the throne is incredibly frustrating? Ladies, I'm sorry, but the Dragon Reborn effectively conquered your nation in a relatively bloodless coup. That he was willing to cede its rulership to the rightful heir is a gift. Moreover, as we discover to our woe, Elayne's claim to the throne is far from secure because of how her mom pissed off everyone, so, it really isn't her "right" after all. But the amount of ink spilled on Elayne all in a dither about Rand's proclamation is really just too much.

Of course, the problem with a series of novels with thousands of characters and that took 23 years to complete is that there is an open editorial question on how to write it. In every book series that I've ever read, the author, and likely his editors, always reintroduce certain facts and characters. So that the reader, who just bought book six after starting the series seven years before (or more!), doesn't have to reread the previous five books to understand what's going on. I suspect that there are two arguments for this, 1) for the readers benefit and 2) for the publishers benefit. I've put off buying Memory of Light for almost half a year because I'm waiting to finish my re read. The novel will be in paperback by they time I get there. But for us rereaders, the constant character reintroduction and reaffirmation is an utter waste of time. The European version of these novels, at least the French version, has a plot synopsis at the start of every novel for just this reason. But, for all of that, this could just be Jordan's plodding writing style. Certainly, the reintroductions should be done by page 100, and these repetitions, are still occurring well into page 300 to 600.

Other nits and observations: the Aiel clan, the Shaido, first of all, the name? Um, what shall I call the evil clan? Can they wear evil looking hats? Secondly, why do their numbers seem three or four times the amount of all the other clans combined. If that were the case, and it isn't really clear that it is, then you'd think Rand would have made more of an effort to bring them to his camp. Instead, book after book, a wandering army of lethal Aiel, between 60,000 to 200,000 large continues to be a major annoyance to the Dragons forces.

From the New Spring Comic, the Aiel Horde

I mentioned Egwene earlier, Jordan's chapters with her and the rebel Aes Sedai are quite exciting. I don't like Egwene. Something about twenty year old girl's running large organzations with almost zero training and life experience sort of irks me. Even so, these chapters have enough going for them plotwise that I can overlook that. I guess that's the problem with a book series that takes a decade to complete, I probably wouldn't have minded that fact when I started reading it.  One nice thing about Jim Butcher's series, Codex Alera, is that two years elapse between each novel and the main character, a 15 year old boy, is a man by the time the series ends.  I'm guessing Butcher was probably irked by Jordan's progression as well.

Still, Jordan has a nod toward experience. By making Siuan Sanche, Egwenes advisor, we get a really excellent passage about the three oaths. Egwene is a headstrong girl, and she tells Siuan that she thinks the three oaths are bunk, and now that she is in charge she intends to revoke them. They are 1) that they cannot lie, 2) that they shall make no weapons, 3) that thy shall harm no one save shadow spawn, unless it is in defence of her life. Of course, Egwenes really just wants the ability to lie, to use as a tactic. Anyway, I will reproduce the Siuans response below.

"The oaths are what make us more than simply a group of women meddling in the affairs of the world. Or seven groups. Or fifty.  The Oaths hold us together, a stated set of beliefs that bind us all, a single thread running through every sister, living or dead, back to the very first to lay her hands on the Oath Rod.  They are what make us Aes Sedai, not saidar.  Any wilder can channel.  Men may look at what we say from six sides, but when a sister says, "This is so," they know its true, and they trust.  Because of the Oaths.  Because of the Oaths, no queen fears that sisters will lay waste to her cities.  The worst villain knows he's safe in his life with a sister unless he tries to harm her.  Oh, the Whitecloaks call them lies, and some people have strange ideas about what the Oaths entail, but there are very few places an Aes Sedai cannot go, and be listened to, because of the Oaths.  The Three Oaths are what it is to be Aes Sedai, the heart of being Aes Sedai.  Throw that on the rubbish heap, and we'll be sand washing away on the tide.  Give up [the Oaths]?  I will be gaining."

Siuane Sanche, Seamus Gallagher

I felt this was really inspired, and made me wonder about Jordan himself. He was a militrary man, and of the older class, a military school grad and southern gentleman. So, I feel you can really hear the author's voice in that statement. Personally, I felt it was an excellent vindication of the role of the Aes Sedai from page 1 of the entire series. From the start, Aes Sedai were not to be trusted, they could not lie, but speaking broadly and with many layrs of meaning, they could effectively manipulate. This is one horse that Jordan kicked to smithereens. But, Siuan recalls the ancient honour of the profession of Aes Sedai, which meant in the Old Tongue, Servant of All, and restored it to some dignity.   The scene also allows Egwene's character to finally grow up, at least a bit.

The chapter "The Law," is not to be missed, it's the conclusion of the Aes Sedai story for this book, and it's a doozie. The title is a reference to an obscure branch of Aes Sedai statute, called the Law of War, which effectively makes the Amyrlin Seat a unilateral power. And Egwene, uses it to establish her power amongst the Aes Sedai rebels. This brings up another issue, something troubling. By and large, I think the Wheel of Time is a liberal series. It's central ideas are humane ones: kindness, respect, justice, tolerance. And yet Jordan feels perfectly comfortable making Egwene a dictator by declaring war. I don't know Jordan's politics, but he was a southerner and a soldier and that could make him a conservative. However, it is a common belief among those with military training, that a war must be prosecuted by a single man, and his counsels of course, and that war governed by Democratic bodies are doomed to failure. There might be some sense to this, but it made me feel a bit uncomfortable, and I thought it worth noting.

Lan al' Mandragoran makes his first appearance after disappearing after book six, the Fires of Heaven, when his Aes Sedai, Moraine, perishes battling Lanfear. Lan was always a hard character, and served as a an excellent martial foil, to the three inexperienced boys who left Emond's Field. And when Rand and the others earned his grudging respect, and received his gruff "tai shar Manatheran" we crowed with delight. And when we learned about the broken crown and the seven towers, and the dead nation of Malkier, we understood his stony face and loved him for it. And even though he ends up falling for another of Jordan's ridiculous female characters, Nynaeve, we were glad for him. However, if I hear once more about the darkness in Lan's eyes, the smile that never touches his eyes, etc. etc., I will literally throw the book across the room. It's not that it is so tiresome, it's just that its untrue. The man is constantly smiling! He's laughing at Rand's jokes, Nynaeve's foibles, Morraine getting humbled, Mat Cauthon's attempts to flee. The man smiles and laughs almost more than any other character. Sigh.

 

I'm laughing on the inside, Seamus Gallagher

Which brings to mind an interesting point about Jordanian humor. All books must have a humorous twist, something to lighten the mood, even if its very rarely. Erikson uses his bizarre marines with their gallows humor, also his pixie like characters, Kruppe and Pust. Weiss and Hickman had the kender character as well as the fumbling wizard/god Fizban. Jordan frequently uses Mat Cauthon, womanizing, and fleeing from responsibility, dicing and drinking to add humor. He also uses the antics of his female characters for his highly sexist type of humor. And occasionally, Rand himself will crack a smile after being humbled by a woman. With all that though, it must be said, that Jordan is not a funny author: moments of levity are barely humorous at all. It's not a bad thing, the apocalypse deserves serious treatment, but it is regretful.

As we get in in the book, it becomes less and less apparent, where we're going. And the reason for that, is that the story's main hero is completely opaque, and has been since book three, The Dragon Reborn. We never know Rand's plans, not until we find out, usually on page 600, what his various comings and goings, his cryptic messages to his Asha'man, all meant. On the one hand, this is a useful story telling technique, as it allows Jordan the freedom to still surprise the reader 14,000 pages in. On the other hand, Rand is our favorite character, the story's most pivotal character. By removing him from the center, Jordan makes it just a little harder for the reader to bear with all the boring tropes and repetitions that so characterize his style.

One of those boring repetitions is an insistence to detail the nobles from each of the countries Rand conquers. At first I was highly resentful of having to read about page wasters like Lord Weiramon, Aracome, Semaradrid, Colavaere, etc. ad nauseum. But, after a great deal of thought, I don't think the series could have been written without them.  This is essentially a story about world war, if Jordan had ignored the existence of the landed gentry the story would have come off as false and shallow. As it is, he makes the vast majority of them into utter fools, like Weiramon, whose idea of strategy is "the charge". There are the really small characters like Lady Estanda, and Lord Tedosian, all completely inconsequential, who scheme against Rand, and mutter idiocies under their breath about being ruled by a commoner. But, if he doesn't explain the infrastructure of the nation of Tear, or Cairhien, or Illian, at least the inclusion of these idiots is a gesture at describing how day-to-day life is administered. Then there are the few nobles who are really great characters who get short shrift page wise. The loyal Lord Dobraine Taborwin, the rebel Lord Darlin Sisnera and his paramour, the Lady Caroline Damodred. I'd really like to see more with all of these characters, and in fact, I've written a fanfic about Lord Dobraine (if you want a sample of my own writing skilz). And, gasp, it sounds a lot like Weiramon is a dark friend! So on the whole, I'm glad Jordan spends so much time detailing the nobility. I'm also glad that on the whole, they are foolish, ignorant, and greedy.  They were, and continue to be that way in real life.

At long last we get to the ending. In my notes for this post, I dubbed it "surprising and weird." If my hypothesis about the main thrust of the novel being about the Seanchean were true, well, that was tied up about 100 pages from the end of the book. Instead, we have several Asha'man turn traitor, Torval, Rochaid, Dashiva and others. We have suspected Taim's under lieutenants for some time, but after the assassination attempt fails, Taim appears, confusing the issue and promising to find the traitors. I understand that Jordan wants to keep the divisive and interesting character of Taim, who, even before we learn he's either a dark friend or a forsaken, was always going to turn on Rand. But again, we are so close to the series finale, why not just allow this to be the end of Taims cloak and dagger routine? In addition, the hint is dropped that Taim, is not actually Demandred, something we have been wondering. And if that is true, then where is Demandred hiding?  Let me make a shoutout to one of my fanfic writing friends, who has a crush on Mazrim Taim and has written not one, but two amazing stories about him.

But back to surprising and weird. While its true that something like this really should happen, none of the characters have really been developed. Torval sneers a lot. Rochaid is an asshole. That is about all we know. And to have this be the exciting conclusion, it was a disappointing ending to what was otherwise, a pretty good installment.

A sad note further confuses what is already a very confusing ending. At the exact time that some of the Asha'man turncoat, another, a young man named Fedwin Morr, also an Asha'man, but a good one, goes insane. Being Ta'veren bends chance around Rand al'Thor, but having Morr lose his grip on sanity at the exact time that the others attempt to assassinate Rand, was a poor choice. It just made for a confusing, nonsensical ending. Despite that, the death of Fedwin Morr is very sad. Morr who is always connected to being very young, regresses to the mind of a four year old, and attempts to secure Min, by building a wall around her. By taking the building apart. Rand slips something in his drink and the young man dies in his sleep.

In almost 15,000 pages, that is the very first death of a good guy, and his character is a bare footnote in the series. Something is wrong with that.

What makes Path of Daggers so frustrating is that the end is a total cliff hanger, and worse, one that does not seem to further the plot. Up till now, most of these novels have had real endings, and though we are left with much to ponder, the ending satisfied some itch, usually with the removal of one of the bad guys. But not here.

Let's tie things up. Much occurs in Path of Daggers, and some of it begins to tie up some plot lines. For instance, Morgase is tied to Perrin, and then to Sevanna and the last of the Shaido. The Prophet, who has been wandering Ghealdan causing trouble, is connected to Perrin as well. The return and clash with the Seanchean. All good. And yet, so much new, half a dozen new Aes Sedai introduced in the Tower, plots to uncover the Black Ajah. The army of borderlanders in Andor, this subplot with the traitor Asha'man. At this stage in the game, the addition of new plot twists should only be introduced as a method to start tying together old plot twists.

So, all in all, I really did like Path of Daggers, up until the last 100 pages. They don't ruin it for me, but it's why, in my memory's eye, I recall the series starting to sag around here. Still, I want to make it crystal clear: Robert Jordan's work is seminal fantasy reading.  If you dig the genre, the entire cycle is required reading, even the lesser volumes.

Furies of Calderon - Jim Butcher

Jim Butcher is a name that has haunted me for some time, his Dresden series has been out for almost two decades, but I was not the target audience. Not so the Alera Codex.

So here it is, Book One, the Furies of Calderon

1) Character. Butcher's characters are well drawn, if a trifle hasty. Hasty? Well from page one, this book has been an action thriller; and while the characters are intelligent, believable and deep, in between fighting, fleeing, flying and furycrafting (the four Fs of the Codex) there really isn't much time for in depth character analysis. What a comparison to my last review of Way of Kings, which plodded between boring character soliloquies. That said, I would have preferred a slower build. The character which is probably the most complete is the young Cursor Amera. A Cursor, somewhat unusual for a fantasy novel, is an intelligence agent with a license to kill.  She is finishing her years of study and graduating what amounts to spy school. Her mentor is another excellent character, the masterspy and cold-hearted killer Fidelias. Fidelias is an unusual type of villain, and it is to Butcher's credit that all three of the evil usurpers top mercenaries are, if not always like able, certainly understandable. Of course the central character is a 15 year old boy named Tavi. Tavi's character is at once the most interesting and the most unbelievable. Making an unusual choice, what makes Tavi special is that he is the only person in the kingdom to not have a Fury. More on what that means later. Suffice it to say, what makes Tavi special is his ordinariness, and that he must rely on his wits, curiosity and courage, where others can simply use magic. Sometimes though Tavi's courage seems enough for ten men, and this is what makes his character just a tad hard to believe. Still, you want to believe in him, and as one of the story's main voices--it isn't hard to do so.  Fantasy novels are often built initially on a gimmick.  And though the choice to make Tavi the only non-magical being in the kingdom is unusual, it is not entirely without precedent.  Still the choice feels very much like a gimmick.  I can see Butcher in a coffee shop, pencil tapping his chin.  What about a magical land where everyone had special powers but the main character?  That said, and this is a big "that said," I absolutely do not have a problem with a good gimmick.

Tavi and Kitai, by Dystopiaworld at Deviant Art

2) Cliche. So the most obvious cliche, continuing with Tavi, is the Coming of Age cliche. Young Tavi starts the action by ignoring his duties to get a kiss from a girl. This is a truly great fantasy cliche, and almost every book uses it. Boy, small and ashamed, faces fears, adult terrors, great extremities and becomes a man. Interestingly, I'm not entirely sure that Tavi does grow, or at least his growth is well contained. It is after all book one, and he is only 15. Another cliche, less seldom used in fantasy is The Ugly Duckling. Amara is described as a girl with golden skin and golden hair, faintly boyish with a face somewhat severe. When her arc begins she considers herself unattractive, but by the end, she has found a man who thinks she's beautiful and indeed, many men have always thought so. The ugly Duckling cliche is unfortunate some of the time and disingenuous the rest of it. It would have been better if she'd actually been ugly, or actually pretty and aware of it.

 

The unbeautiful beautiful Amara, Sandara at Deviant Art

As for typical fantasy cliches, though it receives little note in this volume, there is a Shield Wall, very reminiscent to George R. R Martin's wall in that a group called the Icemen dwell beyond it. That said, they are not the overwhelming enemy-at least not in this volume. Another cliche used by Butcher is the Innate Power Cliche. This is such a common fantasy cliche that it needs little explanation. Think Aes Sedai and their ability to use the One Power, think Raistlin of DragonLance, or the Will and the Word of the Eddings books. The idea is simple, magic is innate. Some people are special some people ain't. Of course the foil for these powers, at least in traditional fantasy is that those who were physically weak could use the occult powers to even the playing field. There is also a cliche for long lived people, but they don't live hundreds of years. They are the magic users who bonded with water elementals and as they are the worlds healers they preserve and regenerate their own bodies as a matter of course. There is one fantasy cliche that Butcher employs with a broad brush. Magic is divided into the standard four elements, Fire, Earth, Wind and Water, with some unusual additions. While that sort of cliche is a little tired, Butcher does some novel things with it. But more of that in magic. No elves or dwarves, but there are giant spiders!

3) Scope: so when I first heard about Jim Butcher it was with all the gushing excitement of a thirteen year old on the Tor website. They made it sound like he was the second coming of Robert Jordan. I was skeptical, but figured I'd get around to him eventually. My skepticism has proved well founded. What made the worlds of Jordan, Martin and Erikson so remarkable was their scope. This is why scope is a signal element to a great fantasy. When you step into a world of someone's making and, to your delight, find it every bit as detailed as your own--it's exciting on a level so deep that every chapter almost throbs with life. How does one achieve it? To be honest, I am still working on that. It's not the number of books, or size of the words on the page, its not a world map with continents of people. It's not the number of characters-though that has something to so with it. It's not the number of political parties, or factions or world destroying g forces. It's literally about how the book is written.

Jim Butcher's world is large, and I already took the next two books out from the library. But the scope... Is merely pedestrian. I wrote a scene recently in a Jordan fanfic that I work on, and in it I have described in detail the vintages of wine from Tear, Cairhien and Altara (three separate nations in the Wheel of Time) I also described three works of art from no less than three different Ages. I'm not tooting my own horn, Jordan's world supplied the framework for this level of detail. I could create the same in Butcher's world, but it would be of entirely my own creation, and it would be a desecration of his work to add such detail. But Jordan's world is different, from book one we were provided tantalizing glimpses into the history of this continent, glimpses from time periods as disparate as twenty years prior to a thousand years before the present! That is depth.

Butcher chose to begin these tales in medias res. and it works, the book is a fun, fast read. But starting a political drama at the center of a world leaves little room to grow. We know that the present King is old and heirless, we know that there is much unrest, and that there are "many" people trying to take advantage. But the plot, SPOILER, is based on just one Lord's efforts to unseat the crown. After book one of Game of Thrones, you knew Cersei was a bitch, but you had no idea that the next book would detail the first year of the War of Five Kings.

 

Gratuitous picture of Queen Cersei by Teilku

There just isn't the level of detail necessary in the Codex of Alera to do that, not in book one. Which leads me to your next objection. You say, but surely scope must be in some way dependent on size, book two and three will add detail. True, but without the proper set up, you run into what I call the Wizard's First Rule Problem. Terry Goodkind's series was very successful, but when a friend once told me that you could either be a Goodkind girl or a Jordan girl, but not both, I was offended. Both men's first novels were designed to be stand alone books. Both morphed into ten book series. Only the smallest part of Jordan's world was explored in that first book, but much was alluded too. Goodkind's kingdom and its Big Bad Lord Rahl were dealt with in that first book, to fix the error he had to invent a threat from a whole other continent. A place that had simply not existed in that first novel, it wasn't until the second novel that he layed down the seeds for a saga. The device lacked the cohesive foresight of WoT. Butcher has indeed left room to grow, the mystery of Tavi's parentage, the mystery behind the slave Fade, the First Lord's wife (SPOILER) having an affair with Lord Aquitane, etc.  Clearly there is much going on, and I am excited to continue reading.  But as of now I have no desire to visit Alera.

An Earth Fury by MctChapman at DeviantArt

Magic: where would we be without it? The source of magic in Alera at least for the local humans are elemental spirits that bond with them. These spirits or furies, vary in strength and some furies have physical manifestations, while others are more ephemeral.  The stronger a fury, the higher in the caste strata a man can rise.  That said nobility remains patriarchal and passes on from generation to generation.  An interesting point is that power over Furies does seem to be hereditary.   The Furies are divided up into the standard element cliche, Fire, Earth, Wind, Wood, Water, and though there doesn't seem to be a physical fury for Metal, they seem to exist in many people, particularly in blacksmiths and swordsmen. Likewise a man can be bonded to more than one Fury. So Wood and Earth furies are common in at least two of the main characters. Unusual for the genre, Butcher doesn't spend too much time describing his system of magic, which provides solid evidence against one of Sanderson's guiding fantasy principles. Namely that magic must be rigorously standardized and adhere to its own rules. Butcher's furies are capable of new and novel things and the lack of explanation doesn't truly inhibit the power of the story. So Woodcrafters can move the forest to cover their tracks. They can guide arrows to targets. Earthcrafters are strong but they can also sense things both above the ground and below it, they can build walls and roads. Windcrafters can basically do all the things that the X-man Storm could do, fly, cause storms, lift targets, etc.  One neat thing that Butcher uses to enliven this cliche is that the elements can combine in natural and intelligent ways. A windcrafter can't start a fire, but as fire requires air, she can propel one a long distance or make a fire into a conflagration. A watercrafter is a healer, and unlike most magical healing, that merely binds wounds, eliminates viruses or bacterial infections, etc. it can actually restore lost limbs. Another trope that Butcher breaks is that healers can't heal themselves. In Alera, healers heal themselves first.  In fact their furies do it without conscious effort, and thus Watercrafters can live for one to two hundred years. As I said earlier, the furies are somewhat undefined. They exist as beings that bond to people but, it is revealed in the second book that many humans do not bond with individual furies, or at least that the ones they bond with contain little individuality. City folk furies are like this, country folk name their furies and seem to have a relationship with them. Inconsistencies abound in the Fury lore, but while this was somewhat irksome to me at first, I sense that one of the overall plot devices for the trilogy will unravel some of these mysteries. Suffice it to say, it is a clever use of a cliche, and a novel new form of magic.

Theme: last and hardest to define. Butcher's world uses slavery. I'm not sure why slavery has become endemic to modern fantasy writers, Sanderson's new story uses it, as does Butcher's. Slavery existed in medieval Europe, but it existed as serfdom, which was different. Serfs were the lowest of the caste society but they were still part of the society. Slaves are not part of the society, they are alien and not accorded the basic rights of humanity. They exist outside the social structure which is why their rights can be restricted in ordinary men's minds. It adds a dimension of darkness to any realm. That said, while Butcher's world contains dark elements such as sex slavery, it doesn't feel dark. This is in part because of the main character Tavi. Tavi represents what is perhaps the ultimate fantasy cliche, he is Good. And he's smart, which makes him much more likeable than say Sam or Frodo who just seemed too saccharine and idiotic to be more than patsies. But Tavi, like The Ta'veren Trio, is good and pure in a way that makes every chapter in which he belongs a delight to read. There is one thing, a nit really, but it does alter the theme. There is sex in this novel. I'm not sure how comfortable I am with that. Without getting gross, let me say, I love sex, and eroticism. But I can't square the circle of seeing it in my swords and sorcery. I don't know if it's because it's too "sweet" or that it seems disingenuous, but I just don't feel it. Here or elsewhere. I guess it adds a component of adulthood to the text, which reminds me to warn you that there is a brutal rape scene. It added little to the story but did at the very least demonstrate the depths of depravity of slavery.

Suffice it to say: the Theme of Calderon is entirely wrapped up in the viewpoints of its three largest characters: Tavi, Isana, and Amara. All three of whom believe in what is good, what is kind, what is right, and the importance of the rule of law.  And those themes are good enogh for me.

Do yourself a favor, get the first four books altogether.  It's hell trying to wait until I can get my hands on a copy of the fourth book.

Marat, by Sandera at Deviant Art, a beautiful illustration of the Marat horde moving toward Alera.

The Briar King by Greg Keyes

Why did I pick this book up?  It was a series, plain and simple.  I saw that there were at least six novels by Keyes on the shelf.  Usually a good sign of staying power.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, anything that's reached a certain level of syndication has to have some aspect of quality.  This does mean that I'm liable to miss some good fiction, so please go ahead and point them out if I do.  I'm open to suggestion.  But I will say this.  When I find a fantasy realm I love--I want to live in it.  I want to immerse myself in it.  A phenomenal one book novel doesn't really allow for this, not because of any lack of quality, simply a lack of words.

But not all books made into series catch my interest.  When I was a teenager I read almost the entire DragonLance series.  I was in love with the characters established by Weiss and Hickman.  When those characters were co-opted by new authors, they still lived in my mind.  The quality was less true, and the Fifth of the Fantasy Five always fell short, but junkies will live on fumes when that's all they can get.

Let's get to it:

Characters:  The lead character in this novel is a gruff, ranger type, with a problem with commitment.  I can't say I really liked him, even when he softened up a bit and admitted that he cared for the leading lady.  One of the nice things about "The Coming of Age" cliche is that it allows a relatively bland character to grow over time.  But our Ranger, was pretty set in his ways.  Hardbitten characters can be fascinating, I was willing to give him a try.  He did seem to grow over the course of the book--but then again, I almost felt that he grew too quickly.  Unbelievably.  I could tell that Keyes was trying to give the characters depth.  None of them were simple, each had complicated motives for their actions.  But sometimes complex motivations aren't enough to create deep characters.  An empathic connection must be drawn to the reader.  And the only character I began to feel that connection with was killed off by the end of the book.

Cliche:  There isn't a central cliche to draw on.  The Briar King is one of those newer fantasy type novels that relies on a political environment that is supposed to modernize and enliven the drama.  One of the more interesting characters is the King, who has a mistress and an evil brother.  The evil brother is a cliche, and his character's motivations appear to be complex, but his evil is also of the benal sort.  One cliche the Briar King most definitely does NOT use, is a central villain.  There were many characters, in many dramas, and it wasn't clear, even by the end of the first novel who the real villain was.  That's not necessarily a problem, but leaving your reader confused is completely different from leaving your reader with compelling mysteries to contemplate.

Scope:  The Briar King's scope is difficult to ascertain.  There is evidence of a largish kingdom, with allies and opponents that are on the brink of war.  I like politics, but I've only really ever found one or two authors who do a good job of creating fantasy worlds with meaningful political disputes.  It's very easy to create nations.  It's very easy create wars and borders.  But only a really terrific writer can make those disputes come alive.  George R.R. Martin did a really great job with this in the Fire and Ice Series, magic and mystery come second in that world.  In The Briar King there's evidence of an ancient enemy, and other races, but the references to these mysteries are clumsy at best.  A personal pet peeve of mine is creating new races that look identical to races that exist in the minds of fantasy readers already.  What's the point?  An elf is an elf is an elf.  Calling him a Scregyar doesn't change the fact that he's an elf.  What are elves?  Thin, longlived, with point ears, and an affinity with nature.  That hasn't changed since Tolkien, nor has the archetype.  It's grown, it's contracted, but it remains essentially the same.  To be sure--the fantasy greats can create new races with impunity.  But amateurs and new authors have to be really careful.  Caveat:  I am in no way qualified to call Keyes an amateur.  My only credential is I read a lot and I know what I like.

Magic:  I'm not really clear what, if anything the magical system in The Briar King is, the ancient enemy, the Briar King, is sort of cool.  I mean the concept of a malignant force of nature is relatively unused in fantasy novels.  Usually the operative cliche is urbanization v. nature.  Ents have a long history in contemporary fantasy of being creatures of good intent, shepards of the forest.  Although, thinking back, the Ents were the good equivalent of the nasties who dwelt in the Fangorn forest of Middle Earth.  It reminds me of the Heidegger's concept of The Black Forest.  It's an old mythic concept that harkens back to an age that is completely inconceivable to the modern reader, a time when towns and cities were literally swallowed whole by vast swathes of dark wilderness.  The only thing man needs shelter from now is the cold, and other men--another perfect allegory for the Fire and Ice series.  In the first book of The Briar King, a priest like character shows a certain penchant for magical activities, but the system though described, isn't fleshed out entirely.  If the character were less weak and idiotic, I may have been intrigued enough to learn more about him in the next book.

Theme:  I could detect very little theme in this book, which was probably the ultimate reason for why I was turned off of the series.  Maybe Keyes hits his stride in the next book, but is it worth another inch on my crowded bookshelves, meh.  There are motifs of political intrigue, war with neighboring countries, betrayal and lust, good nature v. evil nature.  But to tell you the truth, no single one of those really commands the whole novel.  Compare that with a book like The Black Company, by Glen Cook.  I'm desperate to buy the next book--but it's 16 bucks!

Overall, I wasn't so interested in Keyes.  I'd like to give him another try.  The prolific nature of his works indicates that I'm missing something.  But I can't be bothered.  I don't want just another fantasy world, just another sword fight, or love affair.  I need to get sucked in like a dark whirlpool.  And despite having a great title, The Briar King, just didn't suck me.

heh.