Review of House of Chains by Steven Erikson

It's an understatement to say Steven Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen series is an acquired taste. It's a MASSIVE fictional world that seems to be constantly in flux. Every chapter, every book requires the reader to update their knowledge. Each book is also different in its own right; Erikson evolves his style volume to volume. It all makes for shaky footing that a minority of readers have the patience for. For me it's here, the fourth book in the series House of Chains (2002), that things solidified.

For those paying attention—which can be difficult given the plethora of plotlines and endless-endless strings of characters running through the series—Sha'ik's rebellion in Deadhouse Gates was unresolved. The desert folk found a new Sha'ik in Helisin, but the Whirlwind didn't actually whirl. At the beginning of House of Chains, Adjunct Tavore arrives on the Seven Cities continent with a rebuilt Malazan army to finally put an end to the Whirlwind, and maybe patch ends with her sister, Helisin. Memories of Ice revealed that the Crippled God was looking to take down the system, and in House of Chains he recruits more servants to achieve this goal. Everyone's goals—the Whirlwind's, the Crippled God's, and the Malazan Empire's—come to a crashing, massive head that leaves the series wide open.

This would not be a review of House of Chains without mention of Karsa Orlong. In a break from the format which has guided the Malazan series through three books to date, Erikson pauses the rotation of character perspectives per chapter and tries something a little different. The first quarter of the novel—literally 250 pages in my version—focuses entirely on the story of Orlong. No deviating to other characters or other places, Erikson follows the barbarian on his journey from the Viking-esque highlands, ruled by their elder gods, to the human lowlands, and the resulting clash with “civilization”. If ever anyone doubted Erikson could write traditional swords & sorcery, just read those 250 pages. If Karsa's story were not integral to the remaining 750 pages, I would argue those 250 pages could be published separately.

Which is a good point to pause and mention one of the themes of House of Chains: barbarism. Where Robert E. Howard clothed Conan the Barbarian in dialogue and exposition of the stinkiest cheese, Erikson takes his barbarianism vs civilization, order vs. chaos dichotomy more seriously. Karsa's character arc forms perhaps the most interesting aspect of the novel. He becomes First Sword to a certain god—a role and god which he entirely rebels against. The path he chooses to walk instead, or perhaps tries to walk instead, is one by turns horrifying and stirring, and always at odds with conformity.

In line with Karsa's character, Erikson gets explicit at the macro level regarding the uncertainty inherent to his world.

Crokus had no idea how such a thing could come to be. Ascendancy was but one of the countless mysteries of the world, a world where uncertainty ruled all—god and mortal alike—and its rules were impenetrable.

In other words, don't go looking for Erikson to explain his uber-complex magic system. Ain't no system to explain. And still another example is when a news bulletin flashes across the magicians' web; the Bridgeburners have ascended, it says. What does that mean, asks a character. I don't know, answers the most powerful wizard in the series.

On one hand I laud Erikson for not wanting to measure the girders and beams supporting his conception of the fantastic. It feels more nebulous for it—as fantasy should. At the same time, there are too many times Erikson plays fast and loose—waves his hands with a bit of magic—and the plot conundrum or character presence at hand is voila! explained. It's a slippery slope, if anything.

A note on the growing word count in the Malazan series. According to wikipedia, Gardens of the Moon has 205k words (but probably should have had 300k considering how much critical character and scene detail is missing). Deadhouse Gates grew by 60k to 264k (but probably should have been ~200k considering how much waffling there is in the latter half of the novel). Memories of Ice is larger still at 346k (and probably has the most punch per page in the series to date). House of Chains is 298k. Stopping the upward trend, it's shorter than Memories. The challenge is, it feels longer. The first quarter of the novel (Karsa Orlong's story) flows great. But what happens after can feel unnecessarily stretched. The Malazan soldier scenes, and their gruff buddy-buddy jokes, grind on. Less and less often there is clear purpose to their scenes' existence other than at the macro-flow level, or to remind readers they are part of the story. Out of all the books thus far, it contains the most soldier waffle. You, dear reader, will decide for yourself whether that is a good or bad thing.

Regardless the wax of Malazan soldier waffle, House of Chains is a strong entry in the Malazan series. There is good tension inside the Whirlwind as the Malazan army approaches. Side stories, while at first having appeared disconnected (a la Deadhouse), slowly reveal themselves to have relevance (a la Memories). The climactic showdown happens with excitement and surprise, giving the reader the payoff they had been hoping for but in a form they were not expecting. But Karsa Orlong is the sledgehammer of House of Chains. Evil but understandable, the reader peeks with both eyes between their fingers following the giant's plight.