Second Look: A Reread of Steven Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen

I read Steven Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen a decade ago. It took a year; the ten-book series has a lot of words. A lot. It's a massive-massive world and Erikson's story is not easy to read. Dozens upon dozens of locations, hundreds upon hundreds of characters, an extensive pantheon of gods, multiple layers of internal history, cultures, and lore—reading the series is an investment in time, concentration, memory, and, of course, money. I only keep books I intend to re-read, and looking at my bookshelf at the end of 2024 I asked myself: will I ever re-read Malazan? Should I free up some shelf-space? I decided to do a re-read to answer the question. Eight months later and I'm back from the journey, older and wiser.

The Magic Ruler

I'm not the most well-read epic fantasy reader, but I can't think of a fantasy world as large and complex as Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen. Ignoring Ian Esslemont's contributions to the setting, or even Erikson's Malazan short stories or adjacent novels, it's immense. The dramatis personae of one book is longer than the majority of other fantasy novels, let alone the sum of all ten books of the series. I assume the average pages-per-novel is around 1,000 (paperback). Each book juggles six or more different settings/character groups. There are around ten different sentient species, each with its own history, appearance, magic, lore, mannerisms, etc. The fantastic is a ubiquitous, hand-wavy affair, no system or structure to limit or keep it in check. Likewise, the idea of “gods” is nebulous at best, as mortals are capable of suddenly becoming gods, while gods are capable of dying and being killed. It's a massive milieu in which a million things are happening at one time, and a million things are possible.

But contrary to what you may have heard, size does matter. The size and complexity of Malazan is the single biggest hurdle any would-be reader needs to clear in order to move on to the next book / chapter / page of Malazan. Some books are “easier” than others, but Malazan is not a casual read. The question then becomes: what quality is there to this quantity?

If I get out my magic ruler. Hold it up to the light. Look down the edge. Make sure it's still straight. Damn kids have been playing with it... Slap it on my hand. Still rigid, still strong. Measure a test book. Let's try a Clive Cussler. Let's see... One part thriller. Eighteen parts cheese. Seems calibrated still. Take a breath. Get out Malazan. Measure. Hmmm... six—no, seven parts worldbuilding. Three-and-a-half parts character/theme. Two parts plot...

The Parts & Pieces

The ruler's sum doesn't matter. It's the proportions that do. They inform the would-be reader not only what to expect but likewise where enjoyment and/or room for exploration can potentially be found in Malazan. Do you love digging into a world and its lore for the sake of the world and its lore? Run-run-run to buy Malazan. Love letting a dynamic, fast-moving story sweep you into sleep each evening? Think twice. You'll need to wade, neck deep, through world and lore to get that fix. And then it will only happen once per week. Most of the books creep toward major convergences rather than running or leaping. So what about that three-and-a-half parts character/theme? That is where Malazan's rubber hits the road.

Malazan is not a series where a throne is up for grabs, or a kingdom is hanging in the balance, or a faceless evil is threatening to take over. No, Malazan's prime motivator is internal. It's character stories. Yes, you're right. The ruler did measure that the series' largest proportion is world and lore. Can't argue with the ruler. But Malazan's massive world does not revolve around who controls it. Instead, the worldbuilding fills the spaces between characters. In a moment I will go into the fact Erikson's worldbuilding unnecessarily overflows those spaces, and in certain cases there are arguments to be made characters are wordlbuilding. But characters remain the heart pumping blood through the series. That is the prime lesson I learned re-reading Malazan.

Reflection

Thinking back to my first Malazan read, I remember the world was large, but just how large only became apparent encountering and (attempting) to engage with it again. Memory also tells me that I don't think Erikson tried to cheat the reader in character realism. This chimed true second time around. Where so many epic fantasy books deal in cardboard characters, Erikson's control of language and understanding of the psyche allowed for greater nuance to character dialogue, direction, and decision. Many key characters feel human, and most are relatable. Erikson let this m.o. slip in the final volume(s) Dust of Dreams and The Crippled God, going whole hog on worldbuilding and lore informing plot more than character, but the novels which come before do a decent job, at a minimum, and an excellent job at a maximum, ensuring the characters ring true to their own, human bell.

Another interesting aspect of the re-read is how some books rose in estimation, while others fell. I, like all people, slowly mature. The me of ten years ago thought Toll the Hounds and Midnight Tides were the cream of the crop, while The Bonehunters, Gardens of the Moon, and Dust of Dreams were not. My opinion changed slightly. Memories of Ice and Reaper's Gale, with a nod to House of Chains are the cream, now. Toll the Hounds has inconsistencies in style, and Erikson struggles to distinguish his immense crowd of characters. Midnight Tides, for as relatively accessible as it may be, struggled to gain traction in the Bugg/Tehol storyline this time around. Memories of Ice has a cartoony villain and dinosaurs with arm knives, but everything else about it clicks. Itkovian's storyline rings loud and clear, as does Toc the Younger's, not to mention the Imass' collective guilt. Positioning the climax at the two-third's point also nicely fits the goals of the denouement. Reaper's Gale, while blue-balling the Karsa-Rhulad showdown, excellently portrays a continent at war on three sides, from “civilized” to tribal. It echoes most strongly European history and its early dreams of empire building. All in all, a lot to like.

Looking at books contending for least-liked, Gardens of the Moon was low, but now it is on the bottom, by a mile, with a dunce cap. I don't know what concessions Erikson was forced to make to publish the novel, but it has many shortcomings. The transition novels (The Bonehunters and Deadhouse Gates) are still not as interesting as those with convergences. And perhaps most surprisingly, The Crippled God fell flatter. It lost my revere by poorly representing the series—not what you want from your concluding volume. On paper it delivers everything the classic epic fantasy reader is looking for. Action, explosions, magic, massive clashes, etc., etc., but it is discordant to the volumes which came before precisely for that. It's a crushed plum in hand, sticky pulp and juice running over your fingers, whereas the prior novels were the plum, pure and whole. (Except Gardens, natch; that is more durum in nature.)

Miscellanous

A few last notes before concluding, three to be precise. First, despite its size, and despite its epic fantasy label, Malazan is a niche read. Erikson wanted to write epic fantasy but atypical epic fantasy. And he accomplished that, which means it's not mainstream or mainstream accessible. Authors looking to push boundaries and go against the grain should be recognized. Kudos, really. Secondly, Erikson's prose shines at times, not in description as with most epic fantasy writers, rather in dialogue and in humor, the latter interestingly enough. Erikson's overarching style evolves as the series goes, getting better and more subtle. But his humor is always varied and understated. Even if the reader doesn't laugh at one particular variety of humor, they can appreciate the talent it takes to capture its tone on paper.

And thirdly, and lastly, it's to be appreciated that the Crippled God (not Death, not Captain Evil, not Darth Vader, not Bad Black Billy) is the “villain” of the series. It recognizes that suffering is a more prominent challenge people actually deal with, and a challenge specific to the individual, at that. Chronic pain and depression are infinitely more relatable than telepathic evil spirits bent on mankind's destruction, for example. Moreover, Erikson does not kill this villain at the series' end. Suffering is ongoing, it's immutable. You can give a person immortality, but the only escape from suffering is death. Very Buddhist, very perennial that Malazan throughline.

Conclusions

In conclusion, I will not re-re-read Malazan. I don't think there is any more juice to be squeezed, and I'm unsure whether the juice was worth the squeeze to begin with considering the ruler results. Just. so. much. worldbuilding. The majority of the reader's brain power is focused on recreating Erikson's world in the imagination—keeping characters, locations, motivations, possibilities, warrens, etc. organized. Despite some of the powerful character arcs; despite the success of writing epic fantasy without writing mainstream fantasy;despite the quality prose, it's largely a bookkeeping exercise. I agree with M. John Harrison: worldbuilding for worldbuilding's sake is not that interesting. But that three-and-a-half...