The Three C's of Fantasy

So, for the past few years, I have sought to structure my reviews according to a 5 part matrix for assessing fantasy novels. The fantasy five I called them. They were: Character, Cliche, Scope, Magic and Theme. Unfortunately, this lead to massive reviews that take a long time to write, and that I suspect bore my readers to tears.

The Bridgeburners

So I am reducing the rubric.  I'm keeping the first two, Character and Cliche.  character speaks for itself, what is a story without great characters? And I find the cliche aspect of my work to be Very Important.  Many writers have taken a stab at identifying classic fantasy cliches but I have yet to find a really cohesive list.  And as I've said about a billion times, cliche in fantasy is necessary and good.  Why use a hundred words when one good cliche can suffice? Also, cliches are an excellent cross reference between and among the classics. They are almost like phylogenetic trees! Oh he uses halflings? Oh well, then the author probably played video games, or Dungeons & Dragons, which means that he's calling to mind the world of Tolkien. Or he uses absurd humor and zany anachronism? His work calls to mind Lewis Carol.

However, I had a bit of trouble deciding the third category.

 I love discussing magical systems in these works, but it turns out, in so many of the best novels these systems are anything but clear.  And while they may appear internally consistent, a rigorous discussion can be a dive into minutiae that just isn't necessary in a review.  I've also noticed over the last few years that i tend to discuss magic in other parts of the review, frequently when discussing characters.

Moretta, Dragonlady of Pern

Scope and Theme are important factors as well, but they are anything but clear.  What is clear is that a good novel has both in droves and that "you know it when you see it." Which leads us to the third factor: completeness.

The Eye of the World

I don't much care for the word, it leaves a lot to be desired and I may change it. But it does encapsulate a lot of important ideas: 1) the idea that the fantasy world is believable, detailed and coherent (scope) 2) that there are no major plot holes 3) that this completeness contains a palpable theme, a vision and artistic direction (theme).

So here are my reduced factors, three categories:

1) Character
2) Cliche
3) Completeness

My next review will either be Dragons of Autumn Twilight, or the sequel to Shadowdale, Tantras.

By the way, what are we thinking of my Forgotten Realms reviews? Am I bogging down on something that is ancient history? The fact of the matter is they seem to be generating a fair number of hits, so I'm inclined to continue.  But the phone lines are open, so call in!

The Wise Words of Karsa Orlong, House of Chains, Steven Erikson

So, in the Malazan world, a favorite character of mine, and of fandom, is the Thelomon Toblakai, Karsa Orlong.  The character change this of this behemoth blade-master changes much over-time, but even at his most barbaric, he speaks with a gravitas, that is always stirring.  Even the author finds Karsa an interesting study.  For Erikson's treatise on Karsa and 'the other,' click here.

This quote, from Steven Erikson's House of Chains, occurs as the Teblor warrior muses on the rebellion known as The Apocalypse.  He has thrown in his lot with the Apocalypse, almost by chance.  He abhors the rebellion's avowed purpose, and by now has come to admire the Malazan Empire somewhat.  These are his musings on the War of the Apocalypse.

And if you read my other blog, RavingLeftatic, you'll see why I excerpted this here.  All credit goes to the author, again, Steven Erikson.

by shadaan

"The notion of a life spent tilling fields was repellent to the Teblor Warrior.  The rewards seemed to be exclusive to the highborn landowners, whilst the labourers themselves had only a minimal existence, prematurely aged and worn down by the ceaseless toil.  And the distinction between high and low status, was born from farming itself -- or so it seemed to Karsa.  Wealth was measured in control over other people, and the grip of that control could never be permitted to loosen.  Odd then, that this rebellion had nothing to do with such inequities, that in truth it had been little more than a struggle between those who would be in charge.

Yet the majority of the suffering had descended upon the lowborn, upon the common folk.  What matter the colour of the collar around a man's neck, if the chains linked to them were identical?

Better to struggle against helplessness, as far as he was concerned.  This blood-soaked Apocalypse was pointless, a misdirected explosion of fury that, when it passed, left the world unchanged."

by slaine69 at deviantart

Shadowdale by Richard Awlinson

So this may be the first book in the Forgotten Realms series that I have really enjoyed, and have found to be a fairly mature story. It also was written in 1989, and while it still follows a fairly staid Dungeons & Dragons, hero's quest, type of format, it's characters have a great deal more depth, then even R. A. Salvatore's entry into the realms
over the same time period, (Streams of Silver). The troubled heroes actually have back story! Best of all, the story ends in a large, well detailed battle scene with gods, demons, and thousands of troops.

One thing I found troubling, if only in a vague way, was that the premise of this series of books is that the Gods have been banished from the planes by the über god Ao. And as such, they are sent to dwell as humans in the Realms. Now, alongside the release of these books, were actual campaign materials detailing the stats of everything that existed in these worlds.  So, when gods are killed in the  course of this story, were these gods listed in the materials? Or were they Awlinson's creation for the purpose of this particular tale.  The Arrival, as it is called, would have to be a pretty big deal in the worlds history, particularly in light of the fact that magic seems to stop working, and clerics spells only work in the physical presence of their god. So, is Shadowdale adding to the canon of the Realms, or is it just a one off? From this link, it turns out that the Realms Creator, Greenwood actually did conceive of Bane.

When I start reading the books written in 1990, I hope to see reference to the Arrival and the events that followed.  I know that the events that occur in Darkwell, and Streams of Silver are quite independent of this apocryphal event. Though, they could well have occurred prior (or long after) the events herein.

The most enjoyable attribute of Shadowdale is story's heroes, Midnight, Kelemvor, Cyric and Adon. The story begins as these unlikely adventurers skip town on a guard duty contract, although why you would want your city guarded by men on forced contracts enforceable by prison sentences is beyond me. Why? To aid a mysterious girl, whose mysterious mistress is trapped in an old ruined castle.

Kelemvor is ostensibly the most developed of the heroes. A fighter with a terrible curse laid upon him. This curse forces him to only engage in human relations on a contractual basis whereby he is promised a reward, and then actually receives it.  If he does not, (spoiler alert) he turns into a hideous beast. This makes him seem hard hearted. Now, if Awlinson had opted for a shallow character, the curse not withstanding, once removed, would allow Kelemvor to be the selfless hero we all want him to be. However, it turns out, that he is, as all real people are, much more complicated then this. He stays to defend Shadowdale against the Zhentarim, but not because he cares one whit for the people of Shadowdale. He stays because he loves Midnight, and is promised her love, as the basis for the contract. Imagine knowing, as a lover, that your partner may love you, but they can only be with you while under the terms of a very strict contract.  I quite like this twist, and it is in stark contrast to Salvatore's Drizzt Do Urden, the dark elf with the heart as big as the Realms itself.  As a note, if you are, as I am, reading these chronicles for the first time, DO NOT google Kelemvor.  I just inadvertently spoiled the next two books for myself!  Don't click on this.

Cyric is another interesting guy. A thief, turned multi-class, fighter. That's a term from the old days. At first in the D&D world, you had to choose, fighter, thief, or magic user. In later editions, more classes emerged, and in the advanced rules, your fourth level thief could choose to become a fighter. He would retain his thieving skills up to that level, but he would then have to level up as a fighter instead. You could also choose to level up both, but it'd take forever, so most people usually simply switched.  As a boy, I thought this was cheating (having your cake and eating it too. Don't like the paltry hit point scores of a thief? Multi-class him and have the best of both worlds). Now, as an old man, I know that we wear many hats in this lifetime, and we frequently put earlier chapters in our lives completely to bed.

I digress. Cyric was born in Zhentil Keep. First in Spellfire, and now in Shadowdale, we are introduced to Zhentil Keep, as a city that worships the evil gods of the Realms. I find this to be a really interesting concept. Say what you like about cities, but for them to exist, a certain amount of cooperation is required. A certain amount of trust. After all, a contract is a promise, and not all goods can be paid for up front. For a promissory note to hold value, you must trust its issuer to fulfill the obligations therein. And trust cannot exist in a city of Evil. Unless, of course, it's not all Evil. Which reminded me of my favorite St. Augustine quote, "And even when men are plotting to disturb the peace, it is merely to fashion a new peace nearer to the “heart'’ desire; it is not because they dislike peace as such.  It is not that they love peace less, but they love their kind of peace more."

So I was eager to learn more about Zhentil Keep, from the character of Cyric. He was a thief and a murderer, but his most ardent desire is to be free of his past. To be free from the shackles of the Thieves Guild that made him what he was. He too could care less about the people of Shadowdale, and in fact despises them for their apparent weakneses of trust, love, faith and optimism. And he too, opts to stay and defend it from the approaching army. He's also an atheist, which is pretty hard to be in a Realm where there are actually gods. Like I said, for a fantasy novel of the late eighties, this is pretty deep stuff.

My favorite character, is Adon. Adon is a cleric of the goddess Sune, the Realms' Aphrodite. He is incredibly vain, in a harmless, humorous way, and finds himself being chased out of town by a woman who somehow managed to resist his charms. Adon loves the ladies, and he is a firm believer in beauty. Which makes his devotion to Sune all the easier to believe. After all, to believe in beauty one must only know desire and possess eyes. This would all make Adon pretty one dimensional, save for the fact that as a cleric in a time where the gods have descended, he has lost his powers, and has made no effort to find the avatar of the goddess living within the Realms. Neither for his belief, nor for the powers it gave him.  Which, is, odd.  And then, in the last sixty pages, something happens to Adon which is definitely not expected. And he becomes a completely different person overnight. Who he is, we do not yet know. His tale will likely be continued in Shadowdale's sequel, Tantras.

The last point I'd like to bring up is about that old sage, Elminster.  I've been hearing about Elminster for nearly two decades.  He's the Realms version of Gandalf, a long lived wizard of power to rival the gods.  Up till now we haven't learned much about him.  In Spellfire, we learned he had a dalliance with a student, who turned into an evil sorceress.  We also learned that he is short tempered, and humorous.  In my mind, I had always equated him with Dragonlance's Fizban, the bumbling old wizard who happens also to be the God Paladine.  But Elminster is definitely human.  This will probably make him a better character over all.  Though I must say, I rather miss old Fizban and his disastrous Fireball spells.

One last note. Shadowdale, Tantras, and Waterdeep were all released in the same year. Leading me to believe that they were written as one novel and broken up to sell more books, and to be more readable. It also suggests that Awlinson began these novels around the time that Niles, Greenwood, and Salvatore were composing their own founding works.

This was a good read, and if you're looking for some lite fantasy to get you through à lull, this would be a good choice.

Darkwell by Douglas Niles

This marks the final installment in the Moonshae Trilogy.  And, as I am going to start writing shorter blog posts, let me simply outline a few points about the series, about the Realms, and about this particular novel.

The Moonshae Trilogy are some of the first books published in the universe of the Forgotten Realms, published in 1987 to 1989.  And this was a period of great schlock in the fantasy genre.  And these books fit the bill.  They are pure swords and sorcery.  Dungeons and Dragons at its most obvious level.  In some ways, though the books were intended to help sell the games, and vice versa, the books are fairly limited by the universe of the D&D world.  Anyone who has ever read the Players Handbook has had their eyes glaze over with the sheer number of rules, dice roles, and mathematical calculations required for even the simplest of actions.

So when a level six druid casts the level three spell Plant Growth, what happens can be described anyway the dungeon master wants, but at the same time has to adhere to a very specific set of limitations.  And in many ways these stories of the Forgotten Realms are just that, well DM'd stories by a group of players fulfilling quest objectives.

Or the DM can break the rules entirely, as they sometimes do.  But breaking the rules is dangerous business and it can backfire on the author.  One nice thing about writing in a new, or less proscribed fantasy realm is that the limit is your own imagination, and the rules are yours.  Breaking your own rules creates problems too, but a re-envisioning of said rules, an enlarging of the paradigm, is a simple escape from these sorts of problems.

And in each of the Realms books I've read (and I've only read up to 1989) you can literally see spells being cast out of the Magic User's guide.  When the dark god Bhaal creates his evil champions to battle the heroes, they came straight of the Monster's Compendium.  And they have to, because the main rule of writing in an open series like this is a certain consistency.  Still, I'm not sure how I feel about a Displacer Beast being a big bad.  On the one hand, it recalls my egregiously misspent youth (playing with dice and pencils when I should have been out drinking and having sex) on the other hand, the sense of horror and intrigue created by the unveiling of a "new monster" is almost entirely mitigated.

Up until now, just three years into the history of the Forgotten Realms, the books have no inter connectivity, save for a few common city names.  The tales have begun at the far ends of the Realms and have involved relatively little geography.  Though R.A. Salvatore's Icewind Dale series has some decent travel.  Ed Greenwood's own first novel, the man behind the Realms,  taking place in his own world was simply atrocious.  Spellfire has to be one of the worst books I've ever read.

This was never the case in DragonLance, which had such a serious and continuous narrative of the War of the Lance to underscore the personal dramas within.  That said, the Realm of DragonLance was much less flexible, and probably why the Forgotten Realms have, I think, ultimately triumphed in the worlds of TSR.  Anyway, my next book in this series is Shadowdale.  A town first discussed in Spellfire.  I am looking forward, finally, to some crossover.

Last point, about Darkwell.  This book was a pleasant surprise.  The characters took some dark turns, and some of the most intrinsic characters actually died.  That said, the book would have been vastly improved if Niles had NOT decided to make it a happy ending.  Meaning boy gets girl, boy gets forgiven, atonement occurs, and they have many happy children together.  If Niles had not pulled his punches at the last minute, his characters could well have lived on to a fourth or fifth book.  The druid heroine, Robyn, having turned Cleric after the death of her god, the Earthmother, would not have forgiven the King's infidelities.  And Tristan would have actually grown for it.  If Tristan had been wracked by actual guilt over the death of his friend, then he would never have forgiven himself, and the sadness this engendered in him would have made him a far better King.

That said, until the last six pages this novel was difficult to put down.  And that makes it the best Realms novel in the series so far.

For a nice history of D&;D, look here.

Rhapsody by Elizabeth Haydon

Rhapsody is a book that may technically fall under romance, but the author is female and because it was in my list to review it anyway, I'll bring it to the fore. Both times I've read this novel I've really enjoyed it. Elizabeth Hayden borrowed nearly every fantasy trope and cliche in the book, but as I've written before, the use of cliche is the bread and butter of fiction, and when used well creates a yarn that echoes down to the very deepest recesses of our souls. Aside from the standard fiction and fantasy cliches, Hayden borrows liberally from Greek and Norse myth, which isn't typical in modern fantasy. And while children's novels Percy Jackson gets filed under teen fantasy, it isn't necessarily fantasy since it literally uses the Same Greek pantheon that the actual Greeks used.

One thing to note at the outset: Elizabeth Hayden is just a good writer. Tight phrasing, concise character development, she is a writer from the old school. many modern writers allow so much vernacular or poor phrasing into their stories, thinking of it as a stylistic. All it does is point to the simplicity of their writing. Hayden's story telling is masterful.

No great fanfic of what Rhapsody looks like, this is my guess, Taylor Swift

Character  the first 200 pages or so uses only four characters really, so you get an excellent chance to know them. The Foremost is the book's namesake Rhapsody. Rhapsody's character is truly one to fall in love with, not only is she so essentially good and true and honest, she is also so modest that other characters are constantly bemused by her self effacing and willful blindness to the effect she has on others. She's also ravishing, which never hurts. One cliche breaker in Rhapsody's character is that she is a Fallen Woman, while itself a cliche, Fallen Women are rarely the lead characters of stories. They either get redeemed, get their just deserts, or simply get a measure of pity or empathy from the author. Not so Rhapsody, she was a doxy who sold her body freely and readily. Much later you find out that she had certain standards, but given that one of her return clients was a truly abusive and sadistic prick, you get the sense that even her standards were compromised from time to time. Another interesting thing about the Fallen Woman, and something that probably comes from a uniquely female perspective is that she is never redeemed. Without spoiling, an event leads to a certain physical restoration, but the mental anguish that ruined her never leaves her. This, I am lead to believe, is common among the raped. Such intelligent memes are welcome in New Fantasy, where the world is a complicated place.

Achmed, by MeetmebytheSea, Deviant Art

In fact this can be said of all of her main characters and some of the lesser. Achmed the Snake, her assassin friend is a great example of that, a man who is a cold-blooded killer, who despite our desire to like him, remains a merciless bastard well into the third book in the series where he threatens to murder children. On the other hand he develops a real and abiding affection for Rhapsody and becomes her protector. He also wields a truly neat weapon, an unusual device that is a crossbow/sling that fires off steel discs about the size of your hand at great speed. Unusual or magical weaponry is part of what makes fantasy great! The last character note on Achmed is that a turning point in his character occurs well before the entire story begins, through flashbacks and story telling you learn how he was broken. Not broken to become the bad ass assassin that he is, broken from being that bad ass and starting to flee for his life. Which, is how we first meet him. Hayden accomplishes this very simply in iust a few lines, and it seems utterly horrific. Like I said, tight writing.

There are many great characters, however it deserves mention that at least one of the three main characters is very simplistically drawn, the half ogre Grunthor, who speaks in a cockney accent and "sure loves tha lil' miss". Still he is a character intended to draw your affection, and to anchor you in the story, and he accomplishes both adroitly.

Cliche In doing research for this section (yes, I do research, I ran across a truly excellent website, www.tvtropes.org.  They have an interesting quote on their front page, that I thought I'd reproduce for you:  "Tropes are devices and conventions that a writer can reasonably rely on as being present in the audience members' minds and expectations."  They differentiate them from cliches, which is fine. For my purposes I will continue to call them cliches simply to keep my posting and listing of them, paralleled.   In Rhapsody, I will simply list them to start, as usual, where I haven't mentioned them before I will give them names. The Power of Names, the Broken Homeland, star crossed lovers, Welsh, Dungeons and Dragons, the BFG (or the Shrek), the Fallen Woman, the Bard, A Time to Remember, the Great Tree, The Druids, the sleeping child, the purification, the wise old man, the Greedy dragon. Phew: there are more, but I can't go on forever.

The Power of Names: this cliche is one of the most basic in fantasy, and in its cousin angel/demon/ghost/vampire lit. The concept that to know the name of a thing is to have power over it. This sort of cliche harkens to the Islamic belief of not being pictured or the Indian belief in totems, the Christian belief of not naming the devil, or the Jewish belief of not naming, or writing the name of God. In this case, Rhapsody is a Namer, an invention of Hayden's and it basically means she has the power to rename a thing, thus breaking the yoke of someone else knowing your true name, or healing or protecting someone through the power of knowing their true name. It's a neat concept and it was well done.  A concept Patrick Rothfuss, knowingly, or unknowingly aped in developing his Name of the Wind series.

The Fall of Atlantis, by Gaius31duke at Deviant Art

The Broken Homeland this is a neat one and much more rare: there is a place, in this case an island, where a certain race, group or sect of people, all of great power or technology, came from, and it was destroyed by something great and terrible and inexorable. Some examples: Atlantis from myth, but also from Stephen Lawhead's Merlin series. Valyria, where Martin's Targaeryen's were from. Tolkien's elves are said to have left from their own plane to come to Middle Earth, presumably Upper Earth. The Tiste Andii, of Erikson's world fled mother Dark's wrath and left their home city a smoking ruin. Here the island is named Serendair, and the island was immolated by a giant meteor (arranged by, we learn, the evil F'dor) and though it's people are largely normal, the ocean voyage of the fleeing inhabitants all become immortal as they wander the seas for years crossing untold lengths of ocean.  My research here lead me to this essay from Robert Moss, on Tolkien and Atlantis.

Romeon and Juliet, outside the Papp Theatre in NYC

Star Crossed Lovers is a common cliche in all fiction, and the phrasing of my cute name for the cliche, itself harkens from Romeo and Juliet. It means a pair of lovers chosen by fate to fall completely in love are ripped apart by events out of their control, and wander the world in desperate search of their other half. Plato's Symposium had a good example of this in Aristophanes tale of the four legged, four armed titans, ripped apart by the gods and forever in search if their other half. In this story, Hayden has her characters ripped from completely different time periods, thousands of years apart. They meet, fall in love, and then go back to their own time, with no explanation or parting words. As with Romeo and Juliet, this irrevocably changes the two lovers in dark ways.

Welsh:  While this is more of a theme then a cliche, as fantasy has its roots In western folklore, it's only natural when words, phrasings, names and character types hail from one of those old world tribes. In this case, the folklore of Wales, names like Gwydion abound, double ffs and silent Ls. Lloyd Alexander's chronicles of Prydain used this cliche, and certainly T. H. White's Once and Future King, (though King Arthur was supposedly Welsh to begin with, so perhaps calling it a cliche is unfair.)

Dungeons and Dragons: anyone who has read my reviews know what I'm talking about. Elves, dwarves, ogres, dragons, races and character classes. Hayden has given them new names, but it really wasn't necessary, most of the corollaries are pretty obvious: Lirin are elves, a spiritual race that adores nature, nain are dwarves, the firbolg are ogres. One cliche breaker that Hayden uses here to great effect is that the races are seldom pure, half breeds and mixed bloods abound. And in fact, much like real life evolution, old races die out or evolve to newer or different forms, it isn't until you go back hundreds of thousands (possibly millions) of years that you see the first five progenitor races, which include the dragons, and the devils, the F'dor.

BFG: the Big Friendly Giant reference might be a little dated, and I have no idea if kids still read Roald Dahl in school. The BFG concept is simple: a big scary monster, is actually the sweetest character in the book, supposedly shedding light on how poorly behaved we humans can be. A good example from the Belgarion, was Barack, but even his character has more depth than Grunthor. Who just seems like a really sweet guy.

Lena Headley as Queen Cersei from HBO's #GOT

The Fallen Woman: I've already described this one above, but as a general rule this is not a common fantasy cliche. Even in modern fantasy women are virtuous, clean, as gentle. The one obvious example to this is Steven Erikson, who is really not afraid to drag his female characters through the mud. Both Felisin's come to mind. To be honest, it is probably a male hang up, I know its a personal hang up. The treatment of Felisin in Deadhouse Gates nearly ruined the novel for me. I suppose you could say that Queen Cersei, of Game of Thrones renown, is a fallen woman, but she is never raped, nor is she ever destitute, these are important qualities for the Fallen Woman. It isn't that the poverty is a justification, it's that poverty is its own palpable kind of degradation, one that has nothing to do with the sanctity of the body.  There is much to say on this concept, but I don't want to explore too deeply here.

There were a great many to choose from, but I just liked this image

The Bard: this is a great fantasy sub class. Too often you just see warriors and wizards, or in today's fantasy those who are masters at both, which was a major D&D no no.  You see tons of thieves and scads of assassins. But bards are a class of their own, much more rare. Although, again Patrick Rothfuss seems to have taken a leaf from Hayden's book in making his own main character Kvothe, somewhat Bard like.  The power of a bard is in his voice, in his music, but he can fight, and steal as well. He might even know low ranking magics, the type to get him out of sticky situations. They are scoundrels and wastrels and are just great characters. It's rare when they are the lead character, as Rhapsody is, and tend to be comic, or romantic relief.  Some great bards: Taliesin of Stephen R. Lawhead, Thom Merlyn of Jordan's WoT, Merry and Pippin of LOTR, and now Kvothe from the Name of the Wind. One neat thing about bards are that as a class, they pay homage to the fact that in a pre-industrial world, people can't play an iPod to entertain themselves. Somebody is playing or there is no music. And last it is an opportunity for the author to expound on the history and culture of the world that the author has built.

A Time to Remember:  Time travel is not fantasy specific, in fact, very few fantasy novels use this device at all. When they describe the past, it's through flashbacks or reminiscing.  In this story the central plot point, is caused by the removal of a modern man to several thousand years prior to fall in love with a woman and leave her, after promptly deflowering her. Also, as nearly all the characters in this book are long-lived, some are simply immortal and choose suicide after thousands of years of grief. There are a few other notables from the overall genre that use the cliche, including the DragonLance historian Astinus. The man stands outside of time, and writes the history of the world, but at the same time he maintains a temporal residence on Krynn and people can visit him. Feist's Magician series has the dragonriders whose dragons can see their own deaths and are themselves long lived to the thousands of years.

The Great Tree and Druids:  this is a neat concept, and a very green one. The elvish cliche holds that elves live in the forest, but frequently within those forests live other creatures of the woods, unicorns and dryads and ents, and massive trees the size of mountains. I like this cliche for two reasons, one it's primeval fantasy at work, this mythos reaches back to antiquity, and perhaps because of that, it finds its way into other types of literature. Some examples include Martin's heart trees in the North, Weis and Hickman's brothers Majere lived in Solace, a town built on such massive trees. Several iterations of the Robinhood myth have the Prince of Thieves residing in the trees, and of course Tolkien's forests are primeval to the extreme, featuring giant spiders, massive trees, ents, you name it. In Rhapsody's world, there are two or three such trees and their root system is so massive that they span the entire crust of the planet, reaching almost to the planet's fiery core. There is, on the surface, a group of mixed race Druids who live in the shadows of the great trees and serve its needs.

Because why not add Jean Grey?

The Sleeping Child:  The sleeping child is a very common religious theme, here's how it goes, the Earth is actually a dragon, who settled down for a nap millions of years ago, and hasn't woken up.  One day he shall wake up, and the destruction of the world is assured.  I had difficulty tracing the origins of this particular myth.  I had thought it was Norse because of a review I read last year, but since then I have been unable to dig it up.  That said, it's existence in popular culture is very obvious.  For one, Steven Erikson's Malazan epic, is based on the idea of Burn's Sleep.  Burn is the being at the center of the earth, and it is she that the Crippled God has poisoned, because he wishes to destroy the world.  Another good example would be the Hellfire Club of X-men renown.  The Hellfire Club worship the Phoenix, who they believe has been dormant in the center of the Earth, and will wake up one day, inhabit a young hot red head and "reform" the planet.  In Hayden's world, the F'dor, the demons locked in a gravity well at the center of the Earth, want to wake up the Sleeping Child, in this case an enormous dragon.  The dragon will wake up, shed the earth around it, and raize the rest.  What's kind of cool about Rhapsody, is that you actually get to see part of the dragon and get a sense of its immensity.  Sidebar:  Googling the "sleeping child/dragon at the center of the earth' was an education on just how crazy the internet is, and the Tennessee Valley Authority should never have been brought into existence if it meant these people got electricity, and fifty years later, the internet.  I'm also disappointed to note that I couldn't find a single appropriate image for this motif, which leads me to believe it is not as common as I thought.  Or the internet failed.

The Purification:  This is a common fictional motif, where the hero undergoes some sort of test, some sort of a cleansing, and comes out stronger, more peaceful of mind, and frequently with other powers.  This occurs all over the Malazan epic, when the Bridgeburners gain ascendancy, the Bonehunters survive the conflagration at Y'ghitan, Tattersail dying in the warren of Tellann only to be reborn a soletaken.  Gandalf the Grey, of course, becomes Gandalf the White after falling through the center of the earth and displacing Saruman.  In this case, Rhapsody does just that, passing through the center of the earth.  I like Purification cliches because the transformation from dark to light seems innately pleasing to me.  They also supply ample reasons for what in Malazan terms is ascendancy, the concept of gaining godhood or improved powers. We videogamers live for such moments.

One of my favorite images, the battle between Gandalf and the Balrog, before they plummet through the earth

I'm not going to bother with The Wise Old Man, or the Greedy Dragon Cliche.  This post is too long already, and they seem fairly obvious as cliches.

Scope:  Hayden's world certainly lives and breathes, so from that perspective it is a very successful fantasy novel.  The world does not seemed hurried or vague, and if it borrows perhaps a wee bit much from the most common cliches, having them all together in one world creates a very unique sense of the faerie.  One thing the plot suffers from is that the story is almost entirely told from the perspective of Rhapsody and her companions.  While that isn't necessarily a problem, it sometimes can feel like naught occurs in the world without our single-camera focus.  While there are other events that occur over time, in the next book, and the one thereafter, the details of what occur elsewhere are fairly general and do not provide the greatest depth.

Magic:  Magic in Rhapsody takes many different forms.  Rhapsody herself, through her art of Naming, is the practitioner of one type, the F'dor, shapeshifters also wield fire.  The various races have magic innate to their own races, and of course, dragons and druids have their own forces.  All in all, it's a hodgepodge.  This isn't necessarily a bad thing, it adds to the sense of a bazaar of magic.  And at anyrate, it's hardly alone in classic fantasy.  That said, it does seem to fall victim to Sanderson's rule.  Meaning, it can become a plot device to extricate the author from a sticky situation.  Having rules regarding magic is important, and when done well can lead to very creative fixes.

Korlat and Whiskeyjack, I wish I knew whose art...

Theme:  The last category, always hardest to describe is also where I'll stick some general notes about the book.  As stated in the first paragraph, this book is often described as a romance.  And that is probably the best indicator of theme, the notes of high romance, long-lost love, unbelievably good sex, is omnipresent.  It's also irritating.  Fantasy isn't fantasy to me without a little romance.  I like the guy to get the girl, or vice versa, or whatever, whenever possible.  That said, even George R. R. Martin is a bit shy about the actual act of describing coitus.  The sex is often implied, sometimes spelled out, but it is always brief.  Rhapsody has several love making scenes throughout the series, and they go on just a page too long.  And sex's handmaiden, love is their in spades.  When love is mature, filled with anxiety, and tinged with bitterness, I'm on board, but sometimes the lovemaking can get a little saccharine.  It certainly did in Jim Butcher's Furies series, and it does here as well.  I don't know why it bothers me so.  Is it a failing on my part?  I'd like to believe that it is not.  Afterall, there are times when love in fantasy really does break my heart, as in Whiskeyjack's doomed romance with Korlat.  One last aspect of the theme, which is quite appealing is that the story is often times like a murder mystery.  The story is framed around a love affair that is 2,000 years dead.  And began a war that lasted 500 years.  The details of which take three novels to flesh out.  It's an excellent plot device.

If you haven't read Hayden's Rhapsody series.  You should read the first book at least.  It's a book of many tropes, it's true.  But it is also a very well written book.  That cannot be understated.  And if you've a mind for romance, then this book may be exactly your speed.

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.