Epic

Having crossed the Sea of Aboqua, Etjole Ehomba and his companions must find passage west across the Semordria Ocean somewhere in the Thinking Kingdoms. Though these kingdoms are supposed to be (and in some ways are) bastions of civilization, they harbor their own unique man-made hazards.

Surmounting obstacle after obstacle, the story remains fresh only in the strangeness of the situations; Etjole's seeming invulnerability lends a faery tale quality to the writing that some might term 'shallow'. Sadly, there is no real character development, despite ample opportunity for such, including the addition of another member to the party.

In the opening chapter we are treated to our first glimpse of the villain, who is frighteningly cliched. Beyond this diversion, there is little to distinguish this volume from the first in the trilogy. One or two of the trouble spots in which the party finds itself gets resolved in some mysterious way other than Etjole pulling something out of his pack.

If you enjoyed the lighthearted playfulness of the first book, by all means continue. The writing doesn't get any heavier, but there is always something weird just around the corner, and for some people that's reason enough to keep turning pages.

The only negative thing about The Gunslinger is that King never managed to equal it, not even in the six successive volumes of The Dark Tower. The prose is stunning and evocative, and the story has a mythic presence that is seldom matched in modern fiction - it is a very tight, streamlined piece, distilled to perfection.

Dark Tower transcends traditional genre boundaries, and Gunslinger goes above and beyond King's other works - if you've ever read King's 'regular' horror novels, and savored the writing but wished for something with more depth, Gunslinger is definitely for you. If you don't like horror, give Gunslinger a try - while the genre of horror can be applied to it, in many ways it is so much more.

But if the ending is right, then it is nonetheless tainted with bitterness. Not a happy ending, only a necessary one. If you've followed the path so far, you'll want to walk the last few steps, and you may well be disappointed... but then again, you may not be. Were it not worth it, you would already have left the path.

As for the journey itself, there is a definite difference to this novel. Over the years since the gunslinger first followed the man in black across the desert, King's voice has changed. The sparseness of the writing in The Gunslinger was one mark of its exceptional quality, conveying by its tone the nature of a world that has moved on.

The more recent novels are much fuller, much better fed, but they are fed on rotten things that prefer the darkness. The world of Roland has moved on, whether desert or forest, and where life and meat still exists it is twisted and wrong. In that corrupted world, only Roland and his ka-tet are the true steel; that is the beauty and the tragedy.

In Song of Susannah, King introduced an unusual element to his story -- one that many would deem the result of ego rather than honest storytelling. I won't name that element any more clearly, but it is present in this novel as well, to an even greater extent. And yes, it is a work of ego; or perhaps, less a sign of hubris than an acknowledgement that the Dark Tower Cycle is only a story to us, but something far, far more than that to its author.

As with the change in authorial voice, some would view this as a mar in the work. Perhaps they are right. And yet the work has the ring of truth and the sense of power regardless. What King has done in this respect defies almost every rule of conventional fantasy novels; yet it is the sign of a skilled author that he knows when to break the rules, as well as when to follow them.

Indeed, that is perhaps the best way to describe the entirety of the Cycle. King breaks the rules with impunity, and he is right to do so, because the story works. And if the reader is left with the understanding that the story is as much a trip through King's own psyche as anything else, it is an understanding that does not make the journey less compelling.

If you've walked with Roland on the path so far, do not fear to finish the journey.

Readers who have not read the preceding pair of trilogies should do so. Although there is an excellent forward to the book explaining the events that have come before, much of the value in the first book is present by reference to the earlier books. Without the emotional investment of the prior novels much impact will be lost.

Even with the benefit of prior reading, however, the emotional impact of this book is muted. The Land's impressive vitality is concealed and the protagonist, Linden Avery, seems somehow emotionally disconnected from events. She speaks the dialog of passion but lacks the accompanying force. Overall, the experience has the feel of an author returning to a beloved setting out of duty rather than desire.

That said, like any first book, most of the plot is composed of setup. The reader is presented with a number of mysteries and an entirely new Land to puzzle out. Those seeds should bear fruit in future books, and until we are presented with the resolution it is difficult to judge their true worth.

Readers who enjoyed the First Chronicles but never read or never liked the Second should avoid this book and its sequels. Readers who liked the Second Chronicles should not be disappointed.

Overall, the Dark Tower series started out very, very cool. The cool factor has been wearing off, and King has been replacing it gradually with his trademark weird factor. This is, I suppose, somewhat inevitable, even if I would have preferred it otherwise. It's hard to retain the same quality of sparse solitary obsession across thousands of pages without it becoming a source of boredom. In light of that, King has retained many of the qualities of the first novel in the sequence, and has managed to keep things interesting and exciting.

Those who have been following the series have a pretty good idea what the plot of this book will consist of. Susannah Dean has, somehow, managed to get herself pregnant, and Wolves of the Calla closed the story when her baby came due.

Thus, Song of Susannah sends the title character off to have the baby, with Jake, Roland, Eddie, and Callahan going after her. Without spoiling the plot, I will say that I enjoyed the book. The weirdness factor remained about the same, with one startling and worthwhile exception. The book was handled well, with no glaring missteps, and has advanced the plot a fair bit. If there's a complaint to be had, it's that the book ends too soon; it's a doozy of a cliffhanger.

If you've been following the series, get the book and read it. It won't disappoint. If you haven't, read the first two, and if you like those, you'll probably like the rest.

Gardens of the Moon is the first novel in an epic fantasy series that has become very well regarded. The series has been available in Canada for some time, but is only recently becoming available in the US. It is epic fantasy in the grandest sense, with a detailed, intricate world of gods, men, and those things in between. From the very beginning, the stability of that world is threatened by encroaching events -- events that the reader in this first volume can only begin to understand.

The appeal of this epic lies not in the skillful qualities of its writing, but rather in the intellectual exercise of piecing together the background and the meaning behind the events the author presents to us. The reader is effectively tossed into the middle of events and left to sink or swim on their own; explanations come to the reader only as they come to the characters, and often not even then. This quality makes the novel difficult to read, especially the first time, but rewards subsequent readings as the reader's knowledge of the world and it's mechanisms grow.

Later books in the series reveal progressively more about the world, allowing the reader to gain a greater level of comfort, but because each book shifts the central focus to a new set of characters (retaining some of the old ones, usually in a reduced role), the sense of newness remains. The author presents a complex, detailed world of interconnected powers, alliances, treacheries, and races.

Avid fantasy readers who enjoy figuring out the rules of a fantasy world, and who aren't afraid of an author who leaves vital information to the reader to deduce by implication, will have a great deal of fun with this book and this series. Younger readers are likely to have trouble understanding events, and readers who prefer simple escapism would be better served elsewhere.

George RR Martin is a writer with a long, if less than best-selling, list of hits. His previous work includes science fiction like Tuf Voyaging, the tale of a solitary "eco-engineer" with the resources of an intersteller bioweapons facility at his command, or editting the Wild Cards collection, which featured short stories about the real problems faced by comic-book superheroes. He was established as publishable -- but there was absolutely no hint of what would come.

When he released A Game of Thrones, the first volume of his epic fantasy A Song of Ice and Fire, it took the world of fantasy by storm. The same field which Dianna Wynne Jones had lambasted for unoriginality, failure to characterize, and predictable plotting in A Tough Guide to Fantasyland had suddenly produced something entirely different.

A Game of Thrones (henceforth, aGoT) was an epic fantasy that broke all the rules. Most fantasy novels offered an idealized view of medieval life, focusing on nobles in castles, knights in shining armor, kings and queens on the throne, the occasional heroic peasant or cheering crowd; in short, it was about the medieval age as people liked to imagine it, rather than as it really was. aGoT has its noble characters, to be sure, but many are bitter and petty and greedy and self-interested and often vicious. It has knights -- and more than a few of them are what the modern world would consider psychopathic killers. It has peasants; they are dirt-poor and unpleasant. It has a celibate brotherhood of soldiers dedicated to defending the world against the return of an ancient evil; they are drawn from the dungeons of the realm, murderers and rapists, subsisting on the dregs of the nobility and regularly breaking their vows of chastity. There are good, honorable men in positions of power; but all too often their honor is their downfall, and when it is not, the good men of the realm find themselves at odds with one another, or betrayed by those they thought to trust.

In short... everything you thought you knew about a fantasy novel was wrong. This novel is a tour-de-force of gritty realism, a fantasy epic that spits in your face and fights dirty.

The sequel to A Game of Thrones is exceedingly well written, in a brutal and gritty kind of way. This is epic fantasy, to be sure, but never mistake it for a children's book! The full ugliness of life in the medieval period is present here, and the viewpoints are not confined to the scented nobility. Whores and butchers, starving children and rapists, false knights and true sellswords, treachery and treasure, they are all here: the faces of men we prefer to hide from one another are all revealed by the trying times of the war.

There can be no doubt that this is a dark and vicious novel, even a depressing one in some ways. But that's not all. There are victories to savor, and there are knights who are true, and not all dragons must be slain. Say, rather, that this is a novel of people at their best and their worst, trying to make their way in a world where the strong rule.

And there are hints of greatness to come. Where A Game of Thrones was shocking in its newness, A Clash of Kings begins to reveal deeper levels to the events. There is much more at risk than the throne in Kings Landing, and our young heros (Arya, Sansa, Robb, Jon, Bran) must begin to grow up and find a place in a world much crueler than they had ever imagined -- yet for the most part they begin to do so. It is impossible not to empathize with the characters as they struggle, and often fail, to overcome the challenges life has placed before them.

A Song of Ice and Fire has so far been a tour-de-force of epic fantasy, and this novel will not disappoint. This series is the best thing going in epic fantasy; there is nothing better being written at present, not even close. Comparisons to Tolkein are often overused for epic fantasy, and that comparison would fit poorly to this series, but it must be said: had Tolkein chosen to show the bitter truth of human nature, rather than tell his tales through the lense of legend, this tale would not be far removed from his work. It has the same power and majesty, while packing an emotional impact strongly resembling a gut-punch. Yet somehow the combination leaves the reader hungry for more.

It's hard to review the book without spoiling it, because there are so many new elements. In general, the themes of the prior two novels are continued: everyone exists in shades of grey rather than black and white; magic is slowly returning to the world; the threat from beyond the wall grows stronger, while the south remain oblivious.

It's safe to say that there are some earth-shattering events in this book, and while a careful reader might manage to see them coming, they are nevertheless very surprising. If you like puzzles, keep your eyes peeled for some of those little details and you will be rewarded with the opportunity to understand the truth behind some of the most momentous events.

Martin also spends more than a little time setting up the characters for the next book in the series. A Feast For Crows is still being written, but there are enough hints about where the story is going to ratchet up the anticipation significantly.

There is also quite a bit of prophecy, which represents a substantial change from the series tone earlier. We're starting to get hints about the future in ways that allow us to better understand events of the past. One aspect of Martin's writing that we begin to see clearly here is the consequences of inherited rule: events in the present and future are being driven by the unresolved conflicts of the prior generation. It's almost as if the story is moving in two directions at once; forward in time, but backwards in perspective, so that we can see more of the whole story as we gain a better understanding of history.