*/***** (1/5)
Julia Ross turns the tables on romance genre's stereotypical hero and heroine in the poetically-written GAMES OF PLEASURE. Like most historical romances, sexual experience factors in big time in GAMES OF PLEASURE. The hero's mother summarizes the theme here best, noting, "...if a reformed rake makes a good spouse, then so may a courtesan who has genuinely lost her heart." In this novel, skilled courtesan Miracle Heather dominates our honorable, less-experienced (tall, dark and handsome nonetheless) hero the Duke's eldest son Lord Ryderbourne ("Ryder"), a domination both in terms of wit and sexual prowess. Yep, this novel belongs to its courtesan heroine Miracle Heather through and through. I had flashes of Wen Spencer's A BROTHER'S PRICE (*) which has its hero melt and shiver from his heroine's touch and kiss, Small's THE LOVE SLAVE (*) which details an adept concubine's sexual triumphs, and Jo Goodman's A SEASON TO BE SINFUL (**) which has its hero Sherry moronically secure an agreement with the villain only to have the villain return to terrorize the heroine later. This book highlights a glaring imbalance in sexual skill and maturity, ultimately subscribing to the opposites-attract rule (opposite in every way). It isn't like Ryder is younger (than Miracle) or young in general either.
Madeline Hunter's STEALING HEAVEN (*****) still reigns supreme amongst novels featuring strong heroines with a history of her own.
The book is a page-turner but I can't say I enjoyed it. My main problem: the hero Ryder fails to make an impact and apparently a hero's limited sexual experience automatically equates to witless, whiny and debased. I didn't care for the ridiculous ending which makes Ryder look terribly naive and dumb, letting the villain go a la Jo Goodman's A SEASON TO BE SINFUL. All it serves is give the villain an opportunity to return and terrorize in the finale. Then again, Ryder looks inept and naive most of the novel, and not just about sex. All he contributes to the novel is his capacity to "organize," and disgustingly forgive and forget everyone because he's high on lust/love for Miracle. The love scenes are poor, if not downright lazy. The writing is the strongest part of this novel. Oh and I detest harebrained, convenient plotting which prevents childbirth with so many other men because of an absence of "true-love." Miracle fails to conceive with 6 other men and assumes she's barren while magically conceiving one night under the stars with Ryder. I have nothing against rosy, superficial romances, but this sort of mushy, contrived plot device only serves to test a hero before marriage who didn't deserve it and eliminate any possibility of a heroine's past children interfering with a "pure" romance. The heroine's supposed barrenness rears its ugly head in Jo Goodman's A SEASON TO BE SINFUL as well.
It's official, I think I like my h/h to be more on equal ground both from an appearance standpoint and from a sexual experience standpoint. Too contemporary maybe? Well that's why there's some contemporary novels on tap!
Intimately and conversationally, our cynical heroine Miracle makes a mockery of our noble, well-intentioned hero Ryder. Even spirited virgin heroines from most romance novels retort and quip with the profligate libertine hero, but not GAMES OF PLEASURE's Ryder, our melting puppy dog of a hero in eternal heat. I'm at a loss to explain most romance novelists failure to write plausibly honorable heroes with less sexual experience than your typical libertine hero. Why does honor and limited sexual experience in heroes (only 2 widows in this case) automatically equate to whiny, weak and immature? I enjoyed one of their first conversations where Miracle and Ryder flirt over dinner and the food on the table. But similar to all the lovemaking, most of the novel portrays Miracle conquering Ryder in all of their private verbal sparring. Time and time again, the book has Ryder just look immature and impotent in everything: the lovemaking, banter and combat ability. Ryder is at Miracle's mercy in every way whether he's melting at Miracle's touch and kiss, or whether he's laughing like a dolt at Miracle's witty jibes mocking his honor and character.
Miracle is consistently cruel to poor Ryder. I understand her motive to drive Ryder away, and to save him from her, but some of the things she blithely says and does really cuts. It's like driving a dagger through Ryder's heart again and again and again and again. Ryder seriously has the honor of gold to stick around as long he does... or he's just a pathetic puppy dog in heat begging for some of Miracle's expert attentions. Miracle heartlessly uses and abuses Ryder, she wins every conversation, has her way in every dispute, conquers Ryder sexually, and sensually kisses and gropes other men in Ryder's plain sight. Julia Ross would have us believe that sexually inequality suits. No, this is a classic case of the heroine running roughshod all over the honorable hero who's too pathetic to care and too witless to notice. Seriously, she's without mercy.
At the very end, Miracle remarks, "I'd wed Ryder even if he were as poor as our father..." I call bullshit! Miracle wouldn't have given him a second thought if he were poor, that's not what a successful courtesan looks for in a Protector, that much was obvious from the outset. She knew who he was, that he was the Duke's son from the first moment she lays eyes on him. Besides, for Miracle, his wealth and rank help mitigate her dour position.
During the scenes where Miracle deliberately gropes and kisses other men sensually in front of Ryder, we read about Ryder's very cutting and heart-shattering reaction. Nevertheless, Ryder takes it up the chin, impotently and meekly stepping aside. After witnessing a sensual embrace and kiss between Miracle and a handsome member of an acting troupe, Ryder turns away assuming the worst. When she finds Ryder later, she inflames his passion for her again and they have sex. After, he asks whether she slept with the other guy. Did it not occur to you to ask before lying with her again? Ryder, buddy, have some self-respect for yourself maybe? Just a little pride? Virginal heroines common to romances exude more self-respect and formidable wit than Ryder.
At another point in the novel, Miracle stands on tippy-toe to provocatively kiss Ryder's cousin Guy Devoran, again in Ryder's plain sight. Later, Miracle explains Ryder need not feel threatened by Guy, and that Guy was a part of her past. The mature response here would be to laugh and make some self-deprecating comment about his dearth of self-respect around Miracle but instead Ross has Ryder immaturely respond how "it doesn't matter." Miracle recognizes that it did matter to him. Yet she cruelly continues to drive stakes into his honorable heart over and over again and again deliberately and forcefully.
You would think Ryder would make his presence felt at least in the banter. But no, he comes across very immature (often repeating the same words in a whine), while our cynically, disenchanted heroine Miracle wins every conversational exchange. If Ryder isn't laughing like a buffoon every other sentence, he's constantly apologizing for Miracle's articulate (and deft) manipulation of the argument identifying his perceived hypocrisy, ineptitude and unwarranted jealousy. No, Ryder doesn't make an impact anywhere. Julia Ross does have him "organize" safety efforts during a troupe's performance of Hamlet. When a fire hits the congested area, he shouts like a child to order and lead the rescue (the book attempts to make the organizing and ordering about seem like some esteemed and meticulous mark of a noble aristocrat.).
When Miracle thinks and discusses how Ryder will soon tire of her because that's how men are, Ryder again immaturely sulks and broods. If Ross had given any thought to her hero's wit and pride, the mature response would be, "Ah, but why do I get the feeling the question isn't when I'll tire of you, but in fact when you'll tire of me? I wouldn't dishonor you with other women no matter your notorious reputation. I'm the boring one without the sexual experience, remember?"
For a large part of the novel, Ryder laments over everything his younger brother Jack is (Lord Jonathan from Ross' NIGHT OF SIN) and everything Ryder is not -- Jack is the competent fighter, the experienced libertine, blah, blah, blah. Ryder's thoughts and conversations brings up the spectacular Jack at every turn. Ofttimes, GAMES OF PLEASURE felt like a tribute to Jack and NIGHT OF SIN, never really rising above Ross' previous book and its hero. The epilogue again features his brother Jack.
Towards the end, marriage of course becomes the solution to everyone's problems. Ryder meekly assures Hanley that he will marry Miracle and in so doing, guarantees that neither he nor Miracle will expose Hanley. Florid and muddled resolutions in the plotting to say the least. Despite chasing after Miracle for the entire novel, Hanley agrees to Ryder's arrangement. Despite mistrusting and hating Hanley, Ryder diffidently strikes the bargain with Hanley. Of course this only protracts the ending giving an opportunity for Hanley to incite his worst later. The book presents the marriage solution as if it's a novel idea, completely revolutionary, and maybe it is given the context of a notorious harlot and respectable Duke's son. But c'mon, from the reader's perspective, marriage always forms the foundation of romance novelist's repertoire, and unlike the characters in the story, it's impossible to forget its eventuality. Certainly, Ryder has a heart of gold and is a far better man than I. He jumps at the possibility of marriage with a barren and promiscuous Miracle. As his wife, I had to wonder whether she'll continue just flaunting her sensual favors with every man in front of Ryder like she does with him already. Ryder's devotion to Miracle is inviolate, but he sure has a lot of faith Miracle to trust her after she grinds his pride to dust in all of their conversations. Even during the marriage proposal, she's beyond cruel to him implying she'll cheat on him.
The worst of it is Ryder meets many of Miracle's past lovers. Ryder's encounters with many of Miracle's past lovers incite Ryder's anger, but of course Ryder remains impotent and accepting in the end, a classic example of "love" handicapping a man instead of empowering him. In the conventional hero-heroine characterizations of most romance novels, the virginal heroine may meet one of the libertine hero's past mistresses, but usually romance novelists spare their virgin heroines from the circumstances and emotional angst Ryder experiences. Ryder's mother the duchess advises Ryder to free his heart of possessive jealousy from meeting Miracle's past lovers (a possessive jealousy he anguishes over, but does nothing about). As if it's his fault that Miracle taunted him mercilessly with other men right in front of him. Again, I understand Miracle's motivations, but she lacks any faith in Ryder and continues to believe he'll tire of her after their marriage. Even though Ryder had everything to lose in the marriage. Even though he marries with the understanding she'll never bear any children, children he's always wanted. Even though he loves her. So if Ryder is to trust Miracle and free his heart of jealous possession, where is Miracle's faith that Ryder will not leave her? Where's some sign from Miracle to Ryder that she actually returns his love? In her thoughts, maybe, but otherwise? Nope.
The Story, briefly.
Tall, dark and handsome Lord Ryderbourne ("Ryder"), the Duke of Blackstone's eldest son, rescues a scantily-clad, unconscious woman in a dinghy. Though bruised and battered, the woman is uncommonly beautiful, and he takes her to an inn for succor. Obviously, he's instantly attracted to her and she grooms his attraction for her over dinner in her room by flagrantly flirting with him, and then seducing him. While he's sleeping, she absconds early next morning with supplies and a horse in exchange for servicing Ryder sexually the night before.
Ryder later discovers that the woman who he can't seem to evict from his mind and loins is none other than London's most notorious courtesan Miracle Heather. Ryder is consumed, while Miracle merely shrugs off the encounter admitting to herself that he's handsome. Ryder gives chase to protect her. When they meet again, Miracle shows no mercy as she bluntly rejects Ryder in an attempt to drive him away. Ryder doggedly remains with Miracle as escort in a journey to Miracle's brother's home.
We learn more about Miracle's history and the circumstances which lead to Ryder finding her in death's clutches at the beginning of the novel. Lord Hanley was Miracle's last lover, and now Hanley seeks to hang Miracle over charges of killing another man. Hanley pursues Ryder and Miracle, and Ryder hopes for some adventure in his dull, well-ordered life.
The story continues with the focus steadfastly resting on making Ryder look dumb, inept and immature. There's traces of Miracle's burgeoning love for Ryder, but for the most part it's about Ryder ingratiating himself to a level of wretched debasement in his thoughts and words.
As I mentioned, the ending has Ryder look even more impotent and dumb. The book belongs to Miracle, and you can file Ryder's character under pusillanimously pathetic. Apparently having limited sexual experience prompts these rather pathetic qualities.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Friday, August 31, 2007
The Bourne Ultimatum, directed by Paul Greengrass [4]
****/***** (4/5)
The Bourne trilogy
1. The Bourne Identity (4/5)
2. The Bourne Supremacy (1/5)
3. The Bourne Ultimatum (4/5)
I thoroughly enjoyed THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM. Featuring relentless action - and I do mean nonstop - The BOURNE ULTIMATUM concludes the Bourne trilogy in a very satisfying manner. I found this movie's predecessor THE BOURNE SUPREMACY too confusing and too fragmented. THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM however manages to remain focused on Jason Bourne's quest to discover his roots, and return to the place where it all started for him.
Matt Damon returns as Jason Bourne, a man gifted with a preternatural knack for combat, assassination and fighting. We see flashbacks of his love's death in THE BOURNE SUPREMACY which seems to fuel his thirst for some answers. The entire movie showcases one exhilarating action sequence after another and doesn't let go until the very satisfying ending. Julia Stiles and Joan Allen return to play CIA agents questioning the agency's callous pursuit to eliminate Bourne.
Just the way I like my movies, THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM is extremely light on the characterizations and plotting while extremely heavy on the gripping action. Although the movie offers little opportunity to act, I nonetheless thought Matt Damon performed admirably as the insouciant, cold Jason Bourne seeking revenge and answers. The middle fight between Bourne and one of the other assets in Morocco -- wow, simply phenomenal.
The Bourne trilogy
1. The Bourne Identity (4/5)
2. The Bourne Supremacy (1/5)
3. The Bourne Ultimatum (4/5)
I thoroughly enjoyed THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM. Featuring relentless action - and I do mean nonstop - The BOURNE ULTIMATUM concludes the Bourne trilogy in a very satisfying manner. I found this movie's predecessor THE BOURNE SUPREMACY too confusing and too fragmented. THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM however manages to remain focused on Jason Bourne's quest to discover his roots, and return to the place where it all started for him.
Matt Damon returns as Jason Bourne, a man gifted with a preternatural knack for combat, assassination and fighting. We see flashbacks of his love's death in THE BOURNE SUPREMACY which seems to fuel his thirst for some answers. The entire movie showcases one exhilarating action sequence after another and doesn't let go until the very satisfying ending. Julia Stiles and Joan Allen return to play CIA agents questioning the agency's callous pursuit to eliminate Bourne.
Just the way I like my movies, THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM is extremely light on the characterizations and plotting while extremely heavy on the gripping action. Although the movie offers little opportunity to act, I nonetheless thought Matt Damon performed admirably as the insouciant, cold Jason Bourne seeking revenge and answers. The middle fight between Bourne and one of the other assets in Morocco -- wow, simply phenomenal.
Red Seas Under Red Skies, by Scott Lynch [2]
**/***** (2/5)
Gentlemen Bastards sequence (so far)
1. The Lies of Locke Lamora (5/5)
2. Red Seas Under Red Skies (2/5)
Crooked Warden, give me a golden line of bullshit and the wisdom to know when to stop spinning it, [Locke] thought.
SPOILERS ahead.
The second installment of the Gentlemen Bastards sequence RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES (2007) returns our thieves Locke and Jean back to form. We see Locke doing what he does best: bullshitting out of his ass like never tomorrow! Locke always streaks his lies with traces of the truth, and RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES picks up where THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA left off: Locke dissembling, prevaricating, lying, and scheming for a big score. Again, we find Locke extemporizing with words and legerdemains on the fly, often plunging headfirst into volatile, sure-death situations without a plan or strategy until one seems to present itself. For example, explaining to Requin why Stragos has Locke and Jean go away to the Ghostwind Isles. Most of this was fun, but I found the conclusion a blur and entirely unsatisfying. I lost interest following The Major Death here, and the return-on-investment with this book, both from an entertainment standpoint and from a meaningful perspective, waned considerably in comparison to THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA. The deaths in THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA seemed to fuel the story whereas the The Major Death in RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES paralyzes the ending. Neither resolutions with Requin (Sinspire scheme) nor with Stragos (equivalent of Gray King plot, unwanted attention) in this novel compensated for Jean's loss from the reader's perspective.
Relatively speaking, I actually enjoyed the first 450 pages or so of this 576-page hardcover release. I really did. The rest ruined it for me though. Unlike THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA, Lynch's latest installment teems with too much set-up without the proper payoff. In fact, the return on investment and execution of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES seems poor to average. For example, when Locke visits Salon Corbeau early in the novel for the construction of some chairs, the book spends quite a few pages detailing the macabre games at the arena in the city. Locke seethes and fumes over the participants' treatment ("defaults") and we knew that the book was destined to return to Salon Corbeau later. Unfortunately the "payoff" much later consists of 2 passages barely spanning 2 pages as the pirates pillage and plunder the city. We also have a long account of Locke and Jean training to climb down cliff faces with harnesses rope early on. The "payoff"? Maybe a couple lines telling us Locke and Jean slid down rope off of the Sinspire.
The Major Death here prompts Jean into a death offering. The "payoff"? Uh nothing really, they capture Stragos, that's about it. The conclusion was a blur, and I wasn't really interested after The Major Death, none of it made up for it. The circumstances leading to The Major Death were horribly contrived. All of a sudden, we have the existence of this potent alchemical globe capable of burning through ships, a ship's bane. In the ultimate act of heroism, our sacrificial lamb touches the globe that cannot be touched and hurls the globe to the other pirate ship where it finally shatters, engulfing the entire ship in flame and death. Conveniently, the globe didn't shatter earlier on our protagonists' ship the Poison Orchid.
In RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES, Scott Lynch seems to compensate for the relative absence of women in THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA. And compensating so much, I had trouble with my suspension of disbelief. You have close-to-40 Captain Drakasha and her first mate Lt. Delmastro. Both are strong women, and that's all well and good, but to see Drakasha handle another man like a toy was a little... uh, unbelievable? Now Locke is pretty small, so I can understand when she flings him like a nuisance out of her way earlier when they first meet in her cabin, but to strangle, drag and throw around Mazucca like he was little more than a toy was a little.... too much? Towards the end, you have Drakasha cleave other men effortlessly like Conan the Barbarian. All the arrows miss her even though she's front-and-center? How is that, just because she has 2 little children and we can't let Drakasha die, but the other death was necessary because it involved love between Jean & Ezri?
True to guy fiction, the love/romance here is tragic, and I could easily tell the novel would separate Jean and Ezri by the end of the novel at best. At worst ... Protestations of love in a SFF novel like this make me nervous because we know it only serves to foreshadow the worst (get the love out of the way early so the death means something when it hits). Can't have Ezri complicating Locke & Jean's comraderie for future books, right? Similarly, we know Locke means to steal Requin's painting ever since Locke observes the paintings in Requin's office.
Locke held up a glittering necklace, a braided band of gold and silver supporting a heavy gold pendant, studded with sapphires in the stylized pattern of a floral blossom... "That's a sweet piece," said Jean... "You didn't snatch that off a street."
"No," said Locke... "I got it from the neck of the governor's mistress."
"You can't be serious."
"In the governor's manor."
"Of all the -- "
"In the governor's bed."
"Damned lunatic!"
"With the governor sleeping next to her."
The night quiet was broken by the high, distant trill of a whistle, the traditional swarming noise of city watches everywhere. "It is possible," said Locke with a sheepish grin, "that I have been slightly too bold."
...
"I take some of it back," [Jean] said. "You might still be a lying, cheating, low-down, greedy, grasping, conniving, pocket-picking son of a bitch."
"Thanks," said Locke.
The Story, again, possible SPOILERS.
We pick up RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES in a vein very similar to the previous THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA: our Gentlemen Bastards' high-stakes con game going terribly, terribly awry by some unwanted attention from some powerful people. From THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA, we know that Locke crippled a Bondsmage who heralds from an elite cult, the Bondsmagi of Karthain. The Bondsmagi of Karthain own a monopoly on magic-users in Lynch's world, and to kill a Bondsmage instigates certain death for not only the perpetrator, but the perpetrator's family, friends and acquaintances. The complete and awesome power of the collective cult of magic-users exacts retribution for killing one from their order, and no man or woman of power is exempt from this order's complete retribution.
Although Locke didn't kill the Bondsmage in THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA, the Bondsmagi of Karthain stalk Locke and Jean making their presence known. On top of that, the Bondsmagi of Karthain have alerted the Archon of Tel Verrar, Maxilan Stragos, to the presence and dealings of our Gentlemen Bastards Locke and Jean. The military dictator of Tel Verrar and the most powerful man in the Tel Verrar, Stragos poisons Locke and Jean as a means of coercion and to use them as instruments for his own purposes. Locke and Jean don't know the ingredients of the poison and only Stragos can provide the antidote in regular doses every 2 months.
For 2 years, Locke & Jean's apparent target in RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES: a vault in the gambling tower of Tel Verrar's Sinspire. Requin runs the Sinspire and owns the vault where several Priori of Tel Verrar also place their fortunes.
As usual, Locke and Jean must balance their con game with Requin at the Sinspire, Stragos' attentions, mysterious assassins, and the most powerful cult in Lynch's world, the Bondsmagi of Karthain. Just great, they're royally fucked as usual!
Locke: "...Have we ever been less in control of our lives than we are at this moment? We can't run away from the archon and his poison, which means we can't just disengage from the Sinspire game. Gods know we can't even see the Bondsmagi lurking, and we've suddenly got assassins coming out of our assholes. Know something? I'd lay even odds that between the people following us and the people hunting us, we've become this city's principal means of employment. Tal Verrar's entire economy is now based on fucking with us."
Stragos sends Locke and Jean away to the seas to incite piracy over the seas around Tel Verrar. Stragos wants the entire city of Tel Verrar begging for him to assume more power, and in order to consolidate his power, he needs an opposition he can crush. After quite a bit of time as pirates on the sea, Locke and Jean return to Tel Verrar and balance the Priori, Stragos and Requin.
The adventures at sea were at times fun, but mostly felt out of place and horribly slow.
Gentlemen Bastards sequence (so far)
1. The Lies of Locke Lamora (5/5)
2. Red Seas Under Red Skies (2/5)
Crooked Warden, give me a golden line of bullshit and the wisdom to know when to stop spinning it, [Locke] thought.
SPOILERS ahead.
The second installment of the Gentlemen Bastards sequence RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES (2007) returns our thieves Locke and Jean back to form. We see Locke doing what he does best: bullshitting out of his ass like never tomorrow! Locke always streaks his lies with traces of the truth, and RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES picks up where THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA left off: Locke dissembling, prevaricating, lying, and scheming for a big score. Again, we find Locke extemporizing with words and legerdemains on the fly, often plunging headfirst into volatile, sure-death situations without a plan or strategy until one seems to present itself. For example, explaining to Requin why Stragos has Locke and Jean go away to the Ghostwind Isles. Most of this was fun, but I found the conclusion a blur and entirely unsatisfying. I lost interest following The Major Death here, and the return-on-investment with this book, both from an entertainment standpoint and from a meaningful perspective, waned considerably in comparison to THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA. The deaths in THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA seemed to fuel the story whereas the The Major Death in RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES paralyzes the ending. Neither resolutions with Requin (Sinspire scheme) nor with Stragos (equivalent of Gray King plot, unwanted attention) in this novel compensated for Jean's loss from the reader's perspective.
Relatively speaking, I actually enjoyed the first 450 pages or so of this 576-page hardcover release. I really did. The rest ruined it for me though. Unlike THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA, Lynch's latest installment teems with too much set-up without the proper payoff. In fact, the return on investment and execution of RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES seems poor to average. For example, when Locke visits Salon Corbeau early in the novel for the construction of some chairs, the book spends quite a few pages detailing the macabre games at the arena in the city. Locke seethes and fumes over the participants' treatment ("defaults") and we knew that the book was destined to return to Salon Corbeau later. Unfortunately the "payoff" much later consists of 2 passages barely spanning 2 pages as the pirates pillage and plunder the city. We also have a long account of Locke and Jean training to climb down cliff faces with harnesses rope early on. The "payoff"? Maybe a couple lines telling us Locke and Jean slid down rope off of the Sinspire.
The Major Death here prompts Jean into a death offering. The "payoff"? Uh nothing really, they capture Stragos, that's about it. The conclusion was a blur, and I wasn't really interested after The Major Death, none of it made up for it. The circumstances leading to The Major Death were horribly contrived. All of a sudden, we have the existence of this potent alchemical globe capable of burning through ships, a ship's bane. In the ultimate act of heroism, our sacrificial lamb touches the globe that cannot be touched and hurls the globe to the other pirate ship where it finally shatters, engulfing the entire ship in flame and death. Conveniently, the globe didn't shatter earlier on our protagonists' ship the Poison Orchid.
In RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES, Scott Lynch seems to compensate for the relative absence of women in THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA. And compensating so much, I had trouble with my suspension of disbelief. You have close-to-40 Captain Drakasha and her first mate Lt. Delmastro. Both are strong women, and that's all well and good, but to see Drakasha handle another man like a toy was a little... uh, unbelievable? Now Locke is pretty small, so I can understand when she flings him like a nuisance out of her way earlier when they first meet in her cabin, but to strangle, drag and throw around Mazucca like he was little more than a toy was a little.... too much? Towards the end, you have Drakasha cleave other men effortlessly like Conan the Barbarian. All the arrows miss her even though she's front-and-center? How is that, just because she has 2 little children and we can't let Drakasha die, but the other death was necessary because it involved love between Jean & Ezri?
True to guy fiction, the love/romance here is tragic, and I could easily tell the novel would separate Jean and Ezri by the end of the novel at best. At worst ... Protestations of love in a SFF novel like this make me nervous because we know it only serves to foreshadow the worst (get the love out of the way early so the death means something when it hits). Can't have Ezri complicating Locke & Jean's comraderie for future books, right? Similarly, we know Locke means to steal Requin's painting ever since Locke observes the paintings in Requin's office.
Locke held up a glittering necklace, a braided band of gold and silver supporting a heavy gold pendant, studded with sapphires in the stylized pattern of a floral blossom... "That's a sweet piece," said Jean... "You didn't snatch that off a street."
"No," said Locke... "I got it from the neck of the governor's mistress."
"You can't be serious."
"In the governor's manor."
"Of all the -- "
"In the governor's bed."
"Damned lunatic!"
"With the governor sleeping next to her."
The night quiet was broken by the high, distant trill of a whistle, the traditional swarming noise of city watches everywhere. "It is possible," said Locke with a sheepish grin, "that I have been slightly too bold."
...
"I take some of it back," [Jean] said. "You might still be a lying, cheating, low-down, greedy, grasping, conniving, pocket-picking son of a bitch."
"Thanks," said Locke.
The Story, again, possible SPOILERS.
We pick up RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES in a vein very similar to the previous THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA: our Gentlemen Bastards' high-stakes con game going terribly, terribly awry by some unwanted attention from some powerful people. From THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA, we know that Locke crippled a Bondsmage who heralds from an elite cult, the Bondsmagi of Karthain. The Bondsmagi of Karthain own a monopoly on magic-users in Lynch's world, and to kill a Bondsmage instigates certain death for not only the perpetrator, but the perpetrator's family, friends and acquaintances. The complete and awesome power of the collective cult of magic-users exacts retribution for killing one from their order, and no man or woman of power is exempt from this order's complete retribution.
Although Locke didn't kill the Bondsmage in THE LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA, the Bondsmagi of Karthain stalk Locke and Jean making their presence known. On top of that, the Bondsmagi of Karthain have alerted the Archon of Tel Verrar, Maxilan Stragos, to the presence and dealings of our Gentlemen Bastards Locke and Jean. The military dictator of Tel Verrar and the most powerful man in the Tel Verrar, Stragos poisons Locke and Jean as a means of coercion and to use them as instruments for his own purposes. Locke and Jean don't know the ingredients of the poison and only Stragos can provide the antidote in regular doses every 2 months.
For 2 years, Locke & Jean's apparent target in RED SEAS UNDER RED SKIES: a vault in the gambling tower of Tel Verrar's Sinspire. Requin runs the Sinspire and owns the vault where several Priori of Tel Verrar also place their fortunes.
As usual, Locke and Jean must balance their con game with Requin at the Sinspire, Stragos' attentions, mysterious assassins, and the most powerful cult in Lynch's world, the Bondsmagi of Karthain. Just great, they're royally fucked as usual!
Locke: "...Have we ever been less in control of our lives than we are at this moment? We can't run away from the archon and his poison, which means we can't just disengage from the Sinspire game. Gods know we can't even see the Bondsmagi lurking, and we've suddenly got assassins coming out of our assholes. Know something? I'd lay even odds that between the people following us and the people hunting us, we've become this city's principal means of employment. Tal Verrar's entire economy is now based on fucking with us."
Stragos sends Locke and Jean away to the seas to incite piracy over the seas around Tel Verrar. Stragos wants the entire city of Tel Verrar begging for him to assume more power, and in order to consolidate his power, he needs an opposition he can crush. After quite a bit of time as pirates on the sea, Locke and Jean return to Tel Verrar and balance the Priori, Stragos and Requin.
The adventures at sea were at times fun, but mostly felt out of place and horribly slow.
Untamed, by Elizabeth Lowell [1]
*/***** (1/5)
Elizabeth Lowell's UNTAMED provides for many paranormal elements steeped in tradition (rather than outright magic) as excuses for its plotting and pacing. After a while, it just seems like Lowell relishes lapping on one esoteric rule after another. The book also grasps and offends at quantifying love, and measuring it. For example, only love can produce a male offspring with a Glendruid witch (like our heroine) while pleasure will merely result in daughters. The implication: somehow, male offspring require a higher level of intimacy than female offspring. For the majority of 408 pages, rumors of another man (Duncan) restrain our hero Dominic's desire for Meg and he awaits Meg's monthly bleeding before consummating their marriage. Meanwhile, Meg snips at Dominic's crude practicality over wanting land and sons, and laments over his lack of faith in her and his dearth to love (Meg cannot love any man whom she knows will not love her back). She's a virgin of course, and the novel again involves a virgin heroine's sensual awakening.
The prose wasn't bad, but failed to engage, and the plotting/pacing stagnates. The ending represents the epitome of cheeseball. The conclusion showcases our hero Dominic's transformation into the "Glendruid Wolf," a legend portending peace and prosperity for the people of the land. This ridiculous "transformation" into the "Glendruid Wolf" hinges on Dominic discarding the sensible thing and mouthing his words of love for Meg first. I found all the people coming forward to show their dedication and devotion for their abducted Glendruid mistress terribly cheezy. Meg's lack of faith in Dominic resonated throughout (he can't love, blah, blah, blah) and especially in the end when she doesn't believe he'll rescue her consequently risking war. She lacks faith in her husband despite the fact that she's the recepient of Dominic's very tender affection and caring throughout the novel. He ignites and pleasures Meg.
The backdrop of UNTAMED? It's a time following the William the Conquerer's conquest of England, a time when the Normans vanquished or assimilated the Saxons. King Henry I awards the Saxon stronghold in Northern England Blackthorne Keep to our tall, dark and handsome Norman knight Dominic le Sabre. In the absence of any legitimate Blackthorne male heirs, the King awards Lady Margaret ("Meg") and Blackthorne Keep's opulent and fertile lands to his redoubtable Norman knight Dominic.
Like many a man during the time, Dominic dreams of land and sons. He views sons as a means of preserving peace. Meg resents serving as the tool for any man's aspirations for land and sons, though she's willing to marry Lord Dominic in order to avert bloodshed. Following the marriage, Meg isn't averse to all of his sensual servicing either.
And this is where all the rules of paranormal tradition factor into the story. The paranormal rules range from ridiculously contrived to offensive.
Meg hails from a long line of Glendruids, women many consider witches. Glendruid witches traditionally fail to bear many children, much less sons, and they're rarely impassioned exhibiting a very cold demeanor to passion and love. Incidentally our hero Dominic has little trouble stirring Meg's passion on his first attempt. Glendruids are revered and much loved by the people of Blackthorne Keep, and if the Glendruid women are forced in any way, the rules call for the dessication of Blackthorne lands, cattle and its people. If the Glendruid women are cast off, again the people will revolt. If the Glendruid women are pleasured, but not truly loved, then a daughter is possible. If there's love -- and only love -- can a Glendruid bear a son. A Glendruid hasn't borne a son for centuries. There's also a legend that the next Glendruid son born (dubbed the Glendruid Wolf) will hail a time of peace and prosperity. Furthermore our old Glendruid witch Gwyn explains to us, "ultimately [it] rests on the woman's love, not the man's. Many Glendruid women have wanted sons to bring peace to their world. Not one has managed the kind of love a son requires." Oh, and for good measure, Lowell adds another caveat to the Glendruid traditions so Glendruid women aren't tricked into loving their men: "Glendruid women see beneath the sensual lure of broad shoulders and handsome faces. They see a man's soul." Of course it doesn't hurt for the man to possess broad shoulders, a chiseled frame and a handsome countenance either. Nothing less would do for a hero in a romance novel!
Dominic promptly resolves to teach Meg to love him. We all know the rest, right? In the process of trying to make her love him, obviously he loses his own heart to her. The sexual tension in UNTAMED involves having the hunky, experienced dark knight ignite a virgin's passions in spite of her scathing resistance. Dominic answers Meg's feisty imprecations with his experienced wiles of seduction. Despite Meg's notorious indifference to passion, she succumbs to Dominic's touch and kiss on their very first meeting. The rest of the novel interminably plays out the seducing-the-virgin-and-igniting-her-passion routine. It's a kind of antiquated and tedious banality under the most contrived paranormal contexts (rules). Obviously, Dominic will cede control of his heart and soul to Meg first, and in so doing, Meg wins the game! Yay!
The lengthy and wearisome seduction of said virgin was just too much. Over the days and weeks, he slowly assaults her "defenses" (which are nonexistent) with caresses, light touches, and kisses. Nothing happens whatsoever. The books is mildly sensual, if that. The plotting/pacing feeble, the ending cheezy beyond belief.
The title of the book stems from the tradition/rule of Glendruid witches exhibiting a cold, detached disposition towards passion and love. Meg is untamed, and similar to Dominic training and taming a peregrine to his touch, so too does Meg soar to new heights under Dominic's experienced touch. Again, the same'ole-same-'ole sexually-experienced-hero-igniting-virgin's-passion routine. Of course, there's also making the hero recognize his love for his heroine. In this particular version of the typical romance routine, we see very cheesy paranormal elements thrown in for good measure as well.
Elizabeth Lowell's UNTAMED provides for many paranormal elements steeped in tradition (rather than outright magic) as excuses for its plotting and pacing. After a while, it just seems like Lowell relishes lapping on one esoteric rule after another. The book also grasps and offends at quantifying love, and measuring it. For example, only love can produce a male offspring with a Glendruid witch (like our heroine) while pleasure will merely result in daughters. The implication: somehow, male offspring require a higher level of intimacy than female offspring. For the majority of 408 pages, rumors of another man (Duncan) restrain our hero Dominic's desire for Meg and he awaits Meg's monthly bleeding before consummating their marriage. Meanwhile, Meg snips at Dominic's crude practicality over wanting land and sons, and laments over his lack of faith in her and his dearth to love (Meg cannot love any man whom she knows will not love her back). She's a virgin of course, and the novel again involves a virgin heroine's sensual awakening.
The prose wasn't bad, but failed to engage, and the plotting/pacing stagnates. The ending represents the epitome of cheeseball. The conclusion showcases our hero Dominic's transformation into the "Glendruid Wolf," a legend portending peace and prosperity for the people of the land. This ridiculous "transformation" into the "Glendruid Wolf" hinges on Dominic discarding the sensible thing and mouthing his words of love for Meg first. I found all the people coming forward to show their dedication and devotion for their abducted Glendruid mistress terribly cheezy. Meg's lack of faith in Dominic resonated throughout (he can't love, blah, blah, blah) and especially in the end when she doesn't believe he'll rescue her consequently risking war. She lacks faith in her husband despite the fact that she's the recepient of Dominic's very tender affection and caring throughout the novel. He ignites and pleasures Meg.
The backdrop of UNTAMED? It's a time following the William the Conquerer's conquest of England, a time when the Normans vanquished or assimilated the Saxons. King Henry I awards the Saxon stronghold in Northern England Blackthorne Keep to our tall, dark and handsome Norman knight Dominic le Sabre. In the absence of any legitimate Blackthorne male heirs, the King awards Lady Margaret ("Meg") and Blackthorne Keep's opulent and fertile lands to his redoubtable Norman knight Dominic.
Like many a man during the time, Dominic dreams of land and sons. He views sons as a means of preserving peace. Meg resents serving as the tool for any man's aspirations for land and sons, though she's willing to marry Lord Dominic in order to avert bloodshed. Following the marriage, Meg isn't averse to all of his sensual servicing either.
And this is where all the rules of paranormal tradition factor into the story. The paranormal rules range from ridiculously contrived to offensive.
Meg hails from a long line of Glendruids, women many consider witches. Glendruid witches traditionally fail to bear many children, much less sons, and they're rarely impassioned exhibiting a very cold demeanor to passion and love. Incidentally our hero Dominic has little trouble stirring Meg's passion on his first attempt. Glendruids are revered and much loved by the people of Blackthorne Keep, and if the Glendruid women are forced in any way, the rules call for the dessication of Blackthorne lands, cattle and its people. If the Glendruid women are cast off, again the people will revolt. If the Glendruid women are pleasured, but not truly loved, then a daughter is possible. If there's love -- and only love -- can a Glendruid bear a son. A Glendruid hasn't borne a son for centuries. There's also a legend that the next Glendruid son born (dubbed the Glendruid Wolf) will hail a time of peace and prosperity. Furthermore our old Glendruid witch Gwyn explains to us, "ultimately [it] rests on the woman's love, not the man's. Many Glendruid women have wanted sons to bring peace to their world. Not one has managed the kind of love a son requires." Oh, and for good measure, Lowell adds another caveat to the Glendruid traditions so Glendruid women aren't tricked into loving their men: "Glendruid women see beneath the sensual lure of broad shoulders and handsome faces. They see a man's soul." Of course it doesn't hurt for the man to possess broad shoulders, a chiseled frame and a handsome countenance either. Nothing less would do for a hero in a romance novel!
Dominic promptly resolves to teach Meg to love him. We all know the rest, right? In the process of trying to make her love him, obviously he loses his own heart to her. The sexual tension in UNTAMED involves having the hunky, experienced dark knight ignite a virgin's passions in spite of her scathing resistance. Dominic answers Meg's feisty imprecations with his experienced wiles of seduction. Despite Meg's notorious indifference to passion, she succumbs to Dominic's touch and kiss on their very first meeting. The rest of the novel interminably plays out the seducing-the-virgin-and-igniting-her-passion routine. It's a kind of antiquated and tedious banality under the most contrived paranormal contexts (rules). Obviously, Dominic will cede control of his heart and soul to Meg first, and in so doing, Meg wins the game! Yay!
The lengthy and wearisome seduction of said virgin was just too much. Over the days and weeks, he slowly assaults her "defenses" (which are nonexistent) with caresses, light touches, and kisses. Nothing happens whatsoever. The books is mildly sensual, if that. The plotting/pacing feeble, the ending cheezy beyond belief.
The title of the book stems from the tradition/rule of Glendruid witches exhibiting a cold, detached disposition towards passion and love. Meg is untamed, and similar to Dominic training and taming a peregrine to his touch, so too does Meg soar to new heights under Dominic's experienced touch. Again, the same'ole-same-'ole sexually-experienced-hero-igniting-virgin's-passion routine. Of course, there's also making the hero recognize his love for his heroine. In this particular version of the typical romance routine, we see very cheesy paranormal elements thrown in for good measure as well.
Labels:
books,
medieval romance,
paranormal romance,
romance
Friday, August 24, 2007
Finding Noel, by Richard Paul Evans [1]
*/***** (1/5)
I've wondered why it is that some people come through difficult times bitter and broken while others emerge stronger and more empathetic? I've read that the same breeze that extinguishes some flames just fans others. I still don't know what kind of flame I am. --Mark Smart Diary
Since I failed to appreciate Richard Paul Evans' religious, melodramatic tearjerker FINDING NOEL, some may claim I'm too numbed by all the pulp in mainstream America these days . Maybe. I would categorize FINDING NOEL closer to a short story or novella than a novel -- it's probably a 2-hour read max if you're studious. Rife with undercurrents of Christianity, emotional angst and hardship, FINDING NOEL takes place during the holidays in Utah and more than once preaches the benevolence of God and the human spirit persevering over tragedy and loss. FINDING NOEL is exactly about that: Macy Wood's journey to find her long-lost sister Noel. The prose conveys a very teary, emotional and didactic tone while the pacing and plotting are quick. I didn't really care for the sententious preaching, I didn't really care for the "deep" philosophy, I didn't find anything special about the "love" story between Mark & Macy, and the epilogue's biblical parting proved less than inspiring. You can tell that Richard Paul Evans' passion deals with enlightening and aiding abused children, and for that, I couldn't help but admire his efforts.
I learned something valuable today. Oftentimes the greatest hurts of our lives come from running from the smaller ones. --Mark Smart's Diary
The Story.
Mark Smart has just lost his beloved mother to death and he found out about it two days after the funeral. Estranged from his father back in Alabama, dumped by his girlfriend, having lost his college scholarship at Salt Lake City in Utah, and now just having learned of his mother's death, Mark hits a new low as he ponders suicide. Macy Wood works the nighttime shift at a cafe where Mark's car breaks down and though strangers they may be, Macy immediately offers a hug and a shoulder to cry on. For Mark, Macy represents someone nothing short of angel. Mark is immediately dumbstruck by Macy's unconditional kindness and compassion.
Twenty-one year-old Macy Wood has more demons in her closet than you can possibly imagine. In various flashbacks, we discover Macy lost her mother to cancer when she was 5, her father drowns in alcohol and drugs after her mother's death, Macy was sexually abused by people in her father's rehabilitation clinics, separated from her younger sister Noel when she was 7-8 (a younger sister whom Macy mothers), adopted by a cruel woman who physically beats Macy on a daily-basis, and finally runs away from her adopted mother when she's 15 only to end up on the street and homeless willing to do anything for bread and cheese. A troubled yet loving woman Joette finally takes Macy in, and Macy survives her childhood hardships, stronger and more empathetic than ever.
With Mark by her side, Macy begins the search for her sister Noel, tracing through the threads of bureaucracy, luck and finally resistance. FINDING NOEL makes some strong statements about the impotence of government and the nonsense of bureaucracy in the process. Again, faith and God seem to bring salvation.
Along with Macy's search, Mark has family issues of his own to work out with his estranged father.
An out-and-out tearjerker from beginning to end and imparting strong religious sermons, I didn't really enjoy this one. Yeah, I admit it, I'm probably too "pulpified" by American media.
I've wondered why it is that some people come through difficult times bitter and broken while others emerge stronger and more empathetic? I've read that the same breeze that extinguishes some flames just fans others. I still don't know what kind of flame I am. --Mark Smart Diary
Since I failed to appreciate Richard Paul Evans' religious, melodramatic tearjerker FINDING NOEL, some may claim I'm too numbed by all the pulp in mainstream America these days . Maybe. I would categorize FINDING NOEL closer to a short story or novella than a novel -- it's probably a 2-hour read max if you're studious. Rife with undercurrents of Christianity, emotional angst and hardship, FINDING NOEL takes place during the holidays in Utah and more than once preaches the benevolence of God and the human spirit persevering over tragedy and loss. FINDING NOEL is exactly about that: Macy Wood's journey to find her long-lost sister Noel. The prose conveys a very teary, emotional and didactic tone while the pacing and plotting are quick. I didn't really care for the sententious preaching, I didn't really care for the "deep" philosophy, I didn't find anything special about the "love" story between Mark & Macy, and the epilogue's biblical parting proved less than inspiring. You can tell that Richard Paul Evans' passion deals with enlightening and aiding abused children, and for that, I couldn't help but admire his efforts.
I learned something valuable today. Oftentimes the greatest hurts of our lives come from running from the smaller ones. --Mark Smart's Diary
The Story.
Mark Smart has just lost his beloved mother to death and he found out about it two days after the funeral. Estranged from his father back in Alabama, dumped by his girlfriend, having lost his college scholarship at Salt Lake City in Utah, and now just having learned of his mother's death, Mark hits a new low as he ponders suicide. Macy Wood works the nighttime shift at a cafe where Mark's car breaks down and though strangers they may be, Macy immediately offers a hug and a shoulder to cry on. For Mark, Macy represents someone nothing short of angel. Mark is immediately dumbstruck by Macy's unconditional kindness and compassion.
Twenty-one year-old Macy Wood has more demons in her closet than you can possibly imagine. In various flashbacks, we discover Macy lost her mother to cancer when she was 5, her father drowns in alcohol and drugs after her mother's death, Macy was sexually abused by people in her father's rehabilitation clinics, separated from her younger sister Noel when she was 7-8 (a younger sister whom Macy mothers), adopted by a cruel woman who physically beats Macy on a daily-basis, and finally runs away from her adopted mother when she's 15 only to end up on the street and homeless willing to do anything for bread and cheese. A troubled yet loving woman Joette finally takes Macy in, and Macy survives her childhood hardships, stronger and more empathetic than ever.
With Mark by her side, Macy begins the search for her sister Noel, tracing through the threads of bureaucracy, luck and finally resistance. FINDING NOEL makes some strong statements about the impotence of government and the nonsense of bureaucracy in the process. Again, faith and God seem to bring salvation.
Along with Macy's search, Mark has family issues of his own to work out with his estranged father.
An out-and-out tearjerker from beginning to end and imparting strong religious sermons, I didn't really enjoy this one. Yeah, I admit it, I'm probably too "pulpified" by American media.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Enemy of God, by Bernard Cornwell [3]
***/***** (3/5)
SPOILERS ahead.
It's amazing that I dislike or hate all the prominent characters in this Arthurian tale -- Arthur, Guinevere, Lancelot and Merlin -- and yet, I'm drawn to the book nonetheless! Cornwell imbues all the Arthurian characters with a tragic human quality: Arthur, noble and simple to a fault; Guinevere, beautiful and clever yet ever ambitiously plotting; Lancelot, our vain and weak pretty-boy but equally as ambitious as Guinvere; and finally Merlin, seemingly ruthless in his own goals. It's testament to Bernard Cornwell's skill in writing human characters, a captivating story full of love and war and intrigue and vivid settings. Incredible, that I dislike all the main Arthurian characters yet found the story very redeeming with fun moments always tinged with sadness. I didn't cry reading the first book; the death of Derfel's youngest daughter Dian however made me cry.
It's hard not to like our narrator Derfel. But from his eyes, everyone just looks bad, even his Lord Arthur. Poor Arthur, so simple, so faithful, and yet so tragically cuckolded. But alas, this is his own doing. It was heartwarming to see Derfel and Ceinwyn share a faithful love without marriage (so unlike Arthur & Guinevere).
[Merlin] smiled at me. 'I remember you as an earnest little boy, [Derfel], all questions and frowns, then tonight you came like a warrior of the Gods, a terrifying thing of iron and steel and plume and shield.'...Ceinwyn, one arm around Morwenna, wept while I just stared at the fretting grey sea and dreamed of revenge.
Again in ENEMY OF GOD, Cornwell impresses with the scenes and settings of 5th-century Briton, a dark time replete with war, chaos and religious turmoil. It's important to understand the state of Briton during this time when the Romans have left Briton with dilapidated Roman villas, roads and technology, and all of the knowledge of that technology lost with their departure. We have the barbarous Saxons invading from the east and taken over all of Eastern Briton. We have scattered kingdoms of Irish rulers raiding from the west. We have the kingdoms of Briton themselves in what is now Welsh territory. We have mercenaries from Christianity fomenting a movement to either convert or eradicate pagans and their pagan practices. We have Merlin, the principle symbol of pagan power, we have the Bishop Sansam an avariciously grasping Christian, and we have Arthur, a man who respects the Christian God and the Old Gods, but considers men as ants from the God/Gods perspective. Tragically, Arthur loves Guinevere, and values that love above anything else in his life. The Enemy of God is Arthur, and in Cornwell's afterword, Cornwell makes a strong case how 5th-century Christians in Briton really hated Arthur.
Recall from THE WINTER KING (Book 1 of the Warlord Chronicles, a tale of Arthur), that Arthur salvages victory from the claws of defeat with the help of Merlin and the Irish King Oengus Mac Airem. From the victory at Lugg Vale in THE WINTER KING, Arthur finally manages to unite the British kingdoms against the Saxons only to have things go terribly awry after he acclaims Mordred as King of Dumnonia. In ENEMY OF GOD, the words of the mistress who loved Arthur dearly before Guinevere comes along ring true (and I paraphrase): at his darkest hour, during the worst time when it seems all is lost, Arthur will snatch victory, but then he'll be stupid and forgive his enemies consequently providing them another chance to destroy him. As an afterthought, his mistress adds- unless Guinevere teaches him something of cold retribution. Alas, ENEMY OF GOD finally has Guinevere teach him not to forgive his enemies, with her own betrayal. This is a wrenching and cold pill to swallow for Arthur since Arthur loved Guinevere with his all his heart and soul.
Finally, a cold, tortured rock replaces the Arthur that once was by the end of this book, and the transformation is riveting, heart-shattering.
By the end of the last novel THE WINTER KING, we're privy to the budding love Derfel harbors for his star, the Princess Ceinwyn. ENEMY OF GOD begins with the plotting having to do with Ceinwyn's fate as again she's pawned off in a betrothal after the defeat of her father at the Battle of Lugg Vale in THE WINTER KING. Princess Ceinwyn has dutifully betrothed 3 times and seen all 3 of them broken by others, and now Arthur wishes to see Ceinwyn married to Lancelot in a political alliance to rule the Silurian kingdom. At Ceinwyn's fourth betrothal feast, we're treated to some fun romance, and Ceinwyn grabs her fate with her own hands.
Although I was thoroughly riveted by the first part (The Dark Road) dealing with Derfel & Ceinwyn's love and the quest for the Cauldron, and I was moved by the final, fourth part (The Mysteries of Isis) having to do with Guinevere and Lancelot's betrayal, I found the middle two parts extremely protracted and dragging (The Broken War, and Camelot, respectively). Granted these middle parts were a time of peace in a sense, but I didn't feel any motivation to read during these portions. Also, we see magic playing more and more of a prominent role in this novel whereas before it's mostly superstition and trickery. Still nothing outright magical, but we find many prophecies, visions and "magical" items. Can't say I really enjoyed this larger role for magic.
'Arthur thinks you should marry Gwenhwyvach.' [Merlin] said the name carelessly.
'Gwenhwyvach!' I said too loudly. She was Guinevere's younger sister and was a heavy, dull pale-skinned girl whom Guinevere could not abide [Guinevere couldn't abide anything that wasn't pretty and beautiful].
'And why ever not?' Merlin asked in pretended outrage. 'A good match, Derfel. What are you after all, but the son of a Saxon slave? And Gwenhwyvach is a genuine Princess. No money, of course, and uglier than the wild sow of Llyffan, but think how grateful she'll be!' He leered at me. 'And consider Gwenhwyvach's hips, Derfel! No danger there of a baby getting stuck. She'll spit the little horrors out like greased pips!'
Although ENEMY OF GOOD begins with some very fun, romantic plot elements, this is a very dark book overall, and ends on a very brutal note, both for our narrator Derfel and for Arthur. Our narrator manages to finally win Ceinwyn's affections and her love, while Arthur obstinately accepts Mordred as King despite how unfit Mordred is to rule and blindly loves Guinevere and trusts Lancelot.
Poor Derfel. In the beginning, we once again pity Derfel's dire present situation as a Christian monk biding his time for death to finally take him. Once again, we're gloomily reminded of all the friends and loves long since dead. Ceinwyn tells Derfel what a priestess predicts of her fate in marriage after sleeping on a bed of coals. Ceinwyn reveals that the next man who will want to marry her will marry the dead instead. The full impact of this isn't realized until the end of this novel in the fourth part, The Mysteries of Isis.
As we revert to the bulk of the story in a flashback, Derfel garnered some repute as a capable warrior from the final civil conflict amongst the Britains in THE WINTER KING at the Battle of Lugg Vale. Arthur wants Derfel on hand to battle the Saxons and marry Guinevere's sister Gwenhwyvach while Merlin wants Derfel to help him obtain the final of the thirteen magical Treasures of Britain, the Cauldron of Clyddno Eiddyn. Merlin however knows of Derfel's love for Ceinwyn and uses that to get what he wants. I didn't like the magic and the dreamy stupor in the beginning of this novel in a series going only so far as superstition and trickery until now. Now we have a bone, that if broken, will break Lancelot's spell on Ceinwyn and make Ceinwyn come to Derfel. When Derfel finally snaps that bone, it's debatable whether magic played a part or not, but Ceinwyn does, in the last moment, come to him.
Of course, no one will do Derfel any favors out of generosity or love. In return for breaking the impending betrothal between Lancelot and Ceinwyn, Merlin demands Derfel's aid in the quest for the Cauldron. Arthur "rewards" Derfel's service by offering him Guinevere's sister. Please, Arthur, don't do him any favors!
Arthur's incessant, didactic drivel about justice, oaths and kings really got old. In all of his conversations with Derfel, Arthur always speaks in patronizing, instructive tones and Derfel always lets him get away with it. All of Arthur's moral drivel comes to head after he makes Tristan and Iseult stand trial. For the sake of order, justice and oaths, Arthur turns over the lovers Tristan and Iseult to the Kernow King who kills them both.
Merlin said with a sudden and surprising harshness, 'You desire order, Arthur, and you think that Lancelot will listen to your reason and that Cerdic will submit to your sword, but your reasonable order will no more work in the future than it worked in the past. Do you think really think men and women thanked you for bringing them peace? They just became bored with your peace and so brewed their own trouble to fill the boredom. Men don't want peace, Arthur, they want distraction from the tedium, while you desire tedium like a thirsty man seeks mead. Your reason won't defeat the Gods, and the Gods will make sure of that. You think you can crawl away to a homestead and play at being a blacksmith? No.' Merlin gave an evil smile and picked up his long black staff. 'Even at this moment,' Merlin said, 'the Gods are making trouble for you.' He pointed the staff at the hall's front doors. 'Behold your trouble, Arthur ap Uther.'
Nimue's defense of Guinevere's unfaithful actions towards the end seem utterly ridiculous. Nimue argues that Guinevere is very clever, smarter than all men put together, and wanted to see Arthur King while all Arthur wanted was a simple life. A simple life the very thought of which bored and repelled Guinevere. And so, Nimue explains, Guinevere turned to the religious fanaticism of her goddess Isis, copulating with Lancelot and the twins Dinas and Lavaine to make Lancelot King instead. But, Nimue defends, these actions do not make Guinevere a whore. So for power and a chance to rule, it's acceptable to Nimue for Guinevere to use her beautiful charms to sleep around and effect an outcome she desires. Poor, poor Arthur. You really feel his misery towards the end, and it's heart-wrenchingly sad.
Alas, the book concludes on a very bitter note, but not one that makes you want to stop reading. Although what Guinevere wanted finally comes to pass - Arthur as Lord of Kings and Emperor - she herself never gets to be Queen alongside him. Guinevere really underestimates Arthur's prowess and resiliency as Warlord when she betrays Arthur, and for the very last time, Arthur forgives. Arthur forgives Guinevere to life, a condemnation far worse than any death. I still thought he should have killed her. What she did to him was cruel beyond words given his devotion.
EXCALIBUR, the final installment in Cornwell's Warlord Chronicles: a tale of Arthur, is next.
SPOILERS ahead.
It's amazing that I dislike or hate all the prominent characters in this Arthurian tale -- Arthur, Guinevere, Lancelot and Merlin -- and yet, I'm drawn to the book nonetheless! Cornwell imbues all the Arthurian characters with a tragic human quality: Arthur, noble and simple to a fault; Guinevere, beautiful and clever yet ever ambitiously plotting; Lancelot, our vain and weak pretty-boy but equally as ambitious as Guinvere; and finally Merlin, seemingly ruthless in his own goals. It's testament to Bernard Cornwell's skill in writing human characters, a captivating story full of love and war and intrigue and vivid settings. Incredible, that I dislike all the main Arthurian characters yet found the story very redeeming with fun moments always tinged with sadness. I didn't cry reading the first book; the death of Derfel's youngest daughter Dian however made me cry.
It's hard not to like our narrator Derfel. But from his eyes, everyone just looks bad, even his Lord Arthur. Poor Arthur, so simple, so faithful, and yet so tragically cuckolded. But alas, this is his own doing. It was heartwarming to see Derfel and Ceinwyn share a faithful love without marriage (so unlike Arthur & Guinevere).
[Merlin] smiled at me. 'I remember you as an earnest little boy, [Derfel], all questions and frowns, then tonight you came like a warrior of the Gods, a terrifying thing of iron and steel and plume and shield.'...Ceinwyn, one arm around Morwenna, wept while I just stared at the fretting grey sea and dreamed of revenge.
Again in ENEMY OF GOD, Cornwell impresses with the scenes and settings of 5th-century Briton, a dark time replete with war, chaos and religious turmoil. It's important to understand the state of Briton during this time when the Romans have left Briton with dilapidated Roman villas, roads and technology, and all of the knowledge of that technology lost with their departure. We have the barbarous Saxons invading from the east and taken over all of Eastern Briton. We have scattered kingdoms of Irish rulers raiding from the west. We have the kingdoms of Briton themselves in what is now Welsh territory. We have mercenaries from Christianity fomenting a movement to either convert or eradicate pagans and their pagan practices. We have Merlin, the principle symbol of pagan power, we have the Bishop Sansam an avariciously grasping Christian, and we have Arthur, a man who respects the Christian God and the Old Gods, but considers men as ants from the God/Gods perspective. Tragically, Arthur loves Guinevere, and values that love above anything else in his life. The Enemy of God is Arthur, and in Cornwell's afterword, Cornwell makes a strong case how 5th-century Christians in Briton really hated Arthur.
Recall from THE WINTER KING (Book 1 of the Warlord Chronicles, a tale of Arthur), that Arthur salvages victory from the claws of defeat with the help of Merlin and the Irish King Oengus Mac Airem. From the victory at Lugg Vale in THE WINTER KING, Arthur finally manages to unite the British kingdoms against the Saxons only to have things go terribly awry after he acclaims Mordred as King of Dumnonia. In ENEMY OF GOD, the words of the mistress who loved Arthur dearly before Guinevere comes along ring true (and I paraphrase): at his darkest hour, during the worst time when it seems all is lost, Arthur will snatch victory, but then he'll be stupid and forgive his enemies consequently providing them another chance to destroy him. As an afterthought, his mistress adds- unless Guinevere teaches him something of cold retribution. Alas, ENEMY OF GOD finally has Guinevere teach him not to forgive his enemies, with her own betrayal. This is a wrenching and cold pill to swallow for Arthur since Arthur loved Guinevere with his all his heart and soul.
Finally, a cold, tortured rock replaces the Arthur that once was by the end of this book, and the transformation is riveting, heart-shattering.
By the end of the last novel THE WINTER KING, we're privy to the budding love Derfel harbors for his star, the Princess Ceinwyn. ENEMY OF GOD begins with the plotting having to do with Ceinwyn's fate as again she's pawned off in a betrothal after the defeat of her father at the Battle of Lugg Vale in THE WINTER KING. Princess Ceinwyn has dutifully betrothed 3 times and seen all 3 of them broken by others, and now Arthur wishes to see Ceinwyn married to Lancelot in a political alliance to rule the Silurian kingdom. At Ceinwyn's fourth betrothal feast, we're treated to some fun romance, and Ceinwyn grabs her fate with her own hands.
Although I was thoroughly riveted by the first part (The Dark Road) dealing with Derfel & Ceinwyn's love and the quest for the Cauldron, and I was moved by the final, fourth part (The Mysteries of Isis) having to do with Guinevere and Lancelot's betrayal, I found the middle two parts extremely protracted and dragging (The Broken War, and Camelot, respectively). Granted these middle parts were a time of peace in a sense, but I didn't feel any motivation to read during these portions. Also, we see magic playing more and more of a prominent role in this novel whereas before it's mostly superstition and trickery. Still nothing outright magical, but we find many prophecies, visions and "magical" items. Can't say I really enjoyed this larger role for magic.
'Arthur thinks you should marry Gwenhwyvach.' [Merlin] said the name carelessly.
'Gwenhwyvach!' I said too loudly. She was Guinevere's younger sister and was a heavy, dull pale-skinned girl whom Guinevere could not abide [Guinevere couldn't abide anything that wasn't pretty and beautiful].
'And why ever not?' Merlin asked in pretended outrage. 'A good match, Derfel. What are you after all, but the son of a Saxon slave? And Gwenhwyvach is a genuine Princess. No money, of course, and uglier than the wild sow of Llyffan, but think how grateful she'll be!' He leered at me. 'And consider Gwenhwyvach's hips, Derfel! No danger there of a baby getting stuck. She'll spit the little horrors out like greased pips!'
Although ENEMY OF GOOD begins with some very fun, romantic plot elements, this is a very dark book overall, and ends on a very brutal note, both for our narrator Derfel and for Arthur. Our narrator manages to finally win Ceinwyn's affections and her love, while Arthur obstinately accepts Mordred as King despite how unfit Mordred is to rule and blindly loves Guinevere and trusts Lancelot.
Poor Derfel. In the beginning, we once again pity Derfel's dire present situation as a Christian monk biding his time for death to finally take him. Once again, we're gloomily reminded of all the friends and loves long since dead. Ceinwyn tells Derfel what a priestess predicts of her fate in marriage after sleeping on a bed of coals. Ceinwyn reveals that the next man who will want to marry her will marry the dead instead. The full impact of this isn't realized until the end of this novel in the fourth part, The Mysteries of Isis.
As we revert to the bulk of the story in a flashback, Derfel garnered some repute as a capable warrior from the final civil conflict amongst the Britains in THE WINTER KING at the Battle of Lugg Vale. Arthur wants Derfel on hand to battle the Saxons and marry Guinevere's sister Gwenhwyvach while Merlin wants Derfel to help him obtain the final of the thirteen magical Treasures of Britain, the Cauldron of Clyddno Eiddyn. Merlin however knows of Derfel's love for Ceinwyn and uses that to get what he wants. I didn't like the magic and the dreamy stupor in the beginning of this novel in a series going only so far as superstition and trickery until now. Now we have a bone, that if broken, will break Lancelot's spell on Ceinwyn and make Ceinwyn come to Derfel. When Derfel finally snaps that bone, it's debatable whether magic played a part or not, but Ceinwyn does, in the last moment, come to him.
Of course, no one will do Derfel any favors out of generosity or love. In return for breaking the impending betrothal between Lancelot and Ceinwyn, Merlin demands Derfel's aid in the quest for the Cauldron. Arthur "rewards" Derfel's service by offering him Guinevere's sister. Please, Arthur, don't do him any favors!
Arthur's incessant, didactic drivel about justice, oaths and kings really got old. In all of his conversations with Derfel, Arthur always speaks in patronizing, instructive tones and Derfel always lets him get away with it. All of Arthur's moral drivel comes to head after he makes Tristan and Iseult stand trial. For the sake of order, justice and oaths, Arthur turns over the lovers Tristan and Iseult to the Kernow King who kills them both.
Merlin said with a sudden and surprising harshness, 'You desire order, Arthur, and you think that Lancelot will listen to your reason and that Cerdic will submit to your sword, but your reasonable order will no more work in the future than it worked in the past. Do you think really think men and women thanked you for bringing them peace? They just became bored with your peace and so brewed their own trouble to fill the boredom. Men don't want peace, Arthur, they want distraction from the tedium, while you desire tedium like a thirsty man seeks mead. Your reason won't defeat the Gods, and the Gods will make sure of that. You think you can crawl away to a homestead and play at being a blacksmith? No.' Merlin gave an evil smile and picked up his long black staff. 'Even at this moment,' Merlin said, 'the Gods are making trouble for you.' He pointed the staff at the hall's front doors. 'Behold your trouble, Arthur ap Uther.'
Nimue's defense of Guinevere's unfaithful actions towards the end seem utterly ridiculous. Nimue argues that Guinevere is very clever, smarter than all men put together, and wanted to see Arthur King while all Arthur wanted was a simple life. A simple life the very thought of which bored and repelled Guinevere. And so, Nimue explains, Guinevere turned to the religious fanaticism of her goddess Isis, copulating with Lancelot and the twins Dinas and Lavaine to make Lancelot King instead. But, Nimue defends, these actions do not make Guinevere a whore. So for power and a chance to rule, it's acceptable to Nimue for Guinevere to use her beautiful charms to sleep around and effect an outcome she desires. Poor, poor Arthur. You really feel his misery towards the end, and it's heart-wrenchingly sad.
Alas, the book concludes on a very bitter note, but not one that makes you want to stop reading. Although what Guinevere wanted finally comes to pass - Arthur as Lord of Kings and Emperor - she herself never gets to be Queen alongside him. Guinevere really underestimates Arthur's prowess and resiliency as Warlord when she betrays Arthur, and for the very last time, Arthur forgives. Arthur forgives Guinevere to life, a condemnation far worse than any death. I still thought he should have killed her. What she did to him was cruel beyond words given his devotion.
EXCALIBUR, the final installment in Cornwell's Warlord Chronicles: a tale of Arthur, is next.
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