Review of "The Lord of the Rings" by J.R.R. Tolkien

Printed and re-printed more than 150 million times, existing in thirty-eight translations of foreign languages, spawning a variety of scholarship, prompting viral graffiti (Frodo lives!), having a museum, providing the impetus for multiple films, adaptations, and a host of derivative literature (for better and worse), and having millions of millions of fans around the world, its fair to say The Lord of the Rings has made its mark in the world of literature.  A watershed event, the novel put epic fantasy on the map half a century ago and remains the seminal influence on the genre.

 

But the book had different beginnings.  Tolkien’s finished manuscript languished in a drawer for about a decade.  Epic fantasy’s lack of presence in the market the major decision point, no editor was willing to take the risk of publishing such a massive tome at a time when fantasy was thought dead in the aftermath of the pulp era.  Giving in to publisher request, Tolkien eventually conceded to the book being broken into sections, paving the way for The Lord of the Rings to be released as most readers are familiar today: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, and The Return of the King.  Perhaps surprising, the books were not an immediate success.  A word-of-mouth movement in the UK, however, combined with the sales and distribution of non-copyrighted versions in the US, set the book squarely on the road to success, a facet pushed over the brink by the overwhelming popularity of Peter Jackson’s films at the turn of the millennium.

Review of The Lyonesse Trilogy by Jack Vance

Those familiar with Vance’s work know that his style is unrivalled.  So unique, anyone who attempted to imitate his voicing or phrasing would immediately be called out by the fantasy community, unable to show their face again.  The Lyonesse trilogy is one of these works which, along with Tales of the Dying Earth, Planet of Adventure, and The Demon Princes series, lay the foundation for fantasy literature’s most unique voice.  That Vance backs up his style with a most enjoyable, adventuresome tale sets the eyes glassy with joy. 

Fantasy in perhaps its purest form, the Lyonesse trilogy is Arthurian legend through the prism of Merlin's crystal ball. With princes and princesses, trolls and fairies abound, the reader quickly grabs hold of Vance's archetypes and is taken for a ride by his innate ability to spin a yarn.  The first book, called "Suldrun’s Garden” by most fans, sets the scene of the medieval Elder Isles and the various rivalries for power occurring among the kingdoms.  The second book, The Green Pearl, advances the storyline of the protagonist, Alias, as a wise ruler seeking to unite the Isle to once and for all in the name of peace, while simultaneously coloring the inimitable Murgen, Vance’s Merlin figure.  The final book, Maduoc, along with winning the World Fantasy Award, ties together the multitude of threads Vance has woven in the previous two books in a most satisfactory fashion, the ending truly Arthurian for Alias’s estranged daughter and those living in the Elder Isles.  

Never quite taking himself seriously, Vance goes about writing the trilogy in his usual jocular, overly-formal, and utterly humorous style that certainly takes some getting used to by the uninitiated.  When one comes to the realization that all they need do is relax and let the story flow, the delight that is Vance comes springing into the imagination, wizards and spells, potions and magic mirrors never being so much fun.  Though the tongue-in-cheek style does detract from the seriousness of several character outcomes, the sheer joy of truly never knowing where Vance’s imagination will take the reader next is worth the read, and for that the series comes recommended.  In fact, any true lover of zany adventure and imagination need check this out, or any other of Vance’s works.

Review of "A Wizard of Earthsea" by Ursula Le Guin

Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea is one of fantasy fiction’s most unique and endearing series.  The world she has created is vivid with culture, magic and mythos, the first installment of which is A Wizard of Earthsea.  The novel tells the coming-of-age story of Ged who must solve a riddle to find the hero in himself.  Throughout his transformation, Le Guin avoids most cliché fantasy tropes and renders a very refreshing human story written in simple, flowing prose.   

Set in a southeast Asian style archipelago, magic, ancient wisdom and dragons decorate the pages as Ged chases a shadow he's foolishly unleashed around the world.  But it is his wits that he must depend on the most to absorb the lessons he learns along the way and develop into a man in the process.  Filled with profound dialogue and touching characters, the story is geared towards young people, but undoubtedly adults can find something novel and worthy of note as well.  Eschewing Tolkien-esque fantasy, the fundamental ideology of the novel is Daoist in nature, with a dose of Jungian psychoanalysis thrown in for good measure.  

This book is highly recommended for those who are interested in knowing what a fantasy world influenced by the teachings of Daoism may be like, or, in a much simpler fashion, as a great way of introducing one’s children to the world of fantasy literature with a warm message at its heart.

(For those who have read the book and the Earthsea Cycle as a whole, you may be interested in reading a paper I wrote on its Daoist tenets and angles on contemporary theory called "Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea Cycle: Paralleling Contemporary Theory with an Eye to the Past".  Part I is here and Part II, here.)

Review of "The Curse of Chalion" by Lois McMaster Bujold

Pulling no real surprises, The Curse of Chalion is straight-forward high fantasy, complete with princesses, prophecies, and magic.  It does, however, manage to rise above the mediocre due to its strong prose, characterization, and by having a theme that is not often directly tackled by high fantasy.   

Highly reminiscent of Guy Gavriel Kay, The Curse of Chalion is set in an eponymously named kingdom based on medieval Spain, with he plot running the gamut of life in a royal court.  Despite being a fairy tale at heart, the main storyline centers on one man’s sacrifices for what is good and proper in the world.  The main protagonist, Caz, gives his life to the princesses closest to him, offering them protection from the selfish, power seeking individuals who desire the throne for themselves.  The princesses are not without their strengths, however, being key contributors to their own fate through shrewd political maneuvering.  Into this game of power Bujold injects perhaps the most interesting aspect of the book: an interactive religion.  A mix of Christian and Greek ideals, the five gods—a family, in fact—oversee Chalion and are succored through gifts or prayer.  From the title of the book comes the story’s impetus: a curse has been placed on the kingdom, rendering ill luck to the rulers of Chalion, and in turn a prophecy has been made that only after a man has given his soul three times will the curse be lifted.  Though there are pertinent digressions, Caz’s effort to satisfy the prophecy is the engine driving this tightly drawn plot.   

Caz’s plight likewise provides the thematic content: free will vs. divine intervention.  How Bujold handles this is not black and white and is one reason why this book is better than a lot of other high fantasy.   And thus, despite standing on the softer, gentler side of the genre, The Curse of Chalion is not without action and suspense and would appeal to anyone enjoying medieval-esque court drama with a strong thematic core centered on free will and determinism.