Somewhat to my surprise, Google informs me of no "Novels of Martha
Wells" post, although each of her individual books has been
reviewed here (and each favorably, at that).
Well, I was surprised when I found that to be the case, but as I've
thought about writing this post the surprise has shrunk. *Much* of
the pleasure of reading a book by Martha Wells comes from surprise.
She carefully manages the information she conveys to the reader at
every step along the way, and the sheer bravado and effectiveness
of this management make me extremely hesitant to say much about
the plots, or even the settings or characters, of her books, in an
introductory post.
Two examples, one whose purpose is clear, the other whose purpose
is far from clear. In one of her novels, the reader learns a great
deal about the past of the main viewpoint character, but only *very*
gradually; important parts of the picture arrive only in the final
pages. I'm quite sure this is no accident; it serves simultaneously
to make the character more sympathetic than most readers would likely
find him were his whole past revealed up front, and to keep the reader
only a little better informed than the secondary viewpoint character
is. In contrast, in another novel, a panoply of technology highly
consistent with that known in a particular historical period of Earth
is shown, but one of the key pieces of that technology doesn't appear
until quite late in the book. Up to that point, the reader is left
wondering, every time other means are used to solve the problems that
technology addresses, whether it's present in this world or not. I
don't know, but may eventually figure out, whether this uncertainty
is invoked for a reason, or just accidentally.
Regardless, a good case can be made that what someone should know
upon beginning a book by Martha Wells is essentially nothing, that
even more than with most writers, the shortest desirable summary
is the whole book.
That said, here goes; I will break the rule I just stated.
<The Element of Fire>. New York: Tor, [1993].
The book begins with the only two maps in any Wells books to date,
and a list of characters. One map presents a royal fortress in
some detail. The other shows a very few locations and countries
on a poorly sketched continent. I'm fairly sure neither map is
consistent with the set of books to which it's relevant. The book
has 397 pages in 20 chapters.
Thomas Boniface is the Captain of the Queen's Guard. This means
he is responsible for guarding the Dowager Queen Ravenna, who still
effectively rules the country, as well as Queen Falaise, the
neglected wife of King Roland, the titular ruler. He was until
recently Ravenna's long-time lover, which appears to be a fairly
traditional link between the Queens and their guard captains in
Ile-Rien, the land these people run.
Ravenna's dead husband, Fulstan, had another child, by a fayre (sic)
woman who enchanted him for a time; a daughter, for some time
away from the court, now known as Kade Carrion, who periodically
sends annoying or dangerous things or persons to the court,
presumably for her amusement.
At the book's start, Thomas Boniface and his team are breaking into
a "mad foreign sorcerer"'s house, with inadequate backup from a local
and non-mad sorcerer. They are trying to rescue a much more powerful
local sorcerer they believe has been kidnapped and hidden there; they
have probably been sent on this mission at least partly to arrange
for Thomas Boniface's discredit, if not his death. They find a captive
and bring him back despite some sorcerous difficulties.
The next chapter presents an audition for a commedia dell'arte
troupe, followed by a longish scene between Boniface and various
others, which serves to establish several major characters up front
and also to dump quite a bit of information, some of which turns out
to be true, and much of which concerns our mad foreign sorcerer and
what sort of threat he might be.
Two chapters later, the troupe is performing for the king and queens,
and the auditioning player turns out, not very surprisingly, to be
Kade Carrion, but her appearance is almost immediately upstaged by
another new player, which turns out to be some sort of sorcerous
creation, and which successfully wreaks quite a lot of havoc in the
hall.
By this point, we are more or less sure that Kade Carrion didn't put
that player there, but Thomas Boniface and those he protects are not.
This gives her a motivation to help him find out what happened, and
to work with him in what follows.
Much of what I'd want to say about any Wells book is true of this one,
so I'll give the basic description up front. The principal characters,
who are always two, are in nearly constant danger, as are their
associates. They and the other characters are more or less always well-
drawn individuals, varying a fair amount in their opinions of other
characters, their reactions to events, and how much they change over
the course of particular books. If there are variations in style among
the books, I haven't detected them; the style I do detect is generally
transparent, but nevertheless it is perfectly possible for something
important to happen while Wells is telling you something else, only
letting you in on the news by inference later. The principal
characters consistently change, and arguably grow, over the course of
the book, and much of what makes these books more than *solely* the
thrilling adventures they are is that character development. The
settings, however, are also remarkable, but these differ in each book.
In this book, Ile-Rien is a country in which orderly non-hereditary
government is *just beginning* to take hold; characters use both
wheellock pistols and swords, and there are still knights running
around, though not with any great respect. Fayre is becoming hard
to find from Ile-Rien, but not impossible. Ile-Rien's most important
neighbour, Bisra, is basically Spain as ruled by the Inquisition and
without New World gold to make it look pretty on top, and strenuously
disapproves of Ile-Rien's heretical tolerance for sorcery, among
many many other vices.
But we don't see a whole lot of that, because the book really is set
mainly in the palace/fortress, with occasional excursions elsewhere.
So most of what we see is the machinations of people at court, in a
time of ferocious change but when courts still do matter and heredity
still does shape history.
This is perhaps the most conventional of her books, in things like
character motivation (Thomas Boniface is *much* squarer than any of
her other leads) and setting. It is nevertheless a lot of fun, and
worthwhile reading.
<City of Bones>. New York: Tor, [1995].
The book has 377 pages in 21 chapters.
Charisat is a Fringe City; that is, it lies in the desert, on the
edge of the Waste, and water is so scarce that it backs the currency
of trade here. Charisat is also in control of the trade routes to
the Last Sea, and thus has consolidated rule over all but one of
the other Fringe Cities.
Khat and Sagai are relic dealers; they find, appraise, and sort of
sell the scanty physical objects left by the Ancients who lived
before the Waste, a thousand years ago or more, or the Survivors
who lived while the Waste was forming and who apparently founded
the cities like Charisat. They can't really sell their relics
because Charisat's law doesn't allow non-citizens to handle real
money: Sagai comes from the one free Fringe City, while Khat comes
from the Waste itself, being a krismen (sic) rather than an ordinary
man. As a result, although they do well enough to live on a tier
where the water hasn't been used too many times yet, they're always
somewhat on the edge economically, and subject to a fair amount of
official and criminal bullying.
As the book begins, a Warder, one of the magicians who prop up the
government, finds them - *not* where they live or ordinarily do
business - and bullies/hires Khat's company as guide on a trip to the
local Ancient Remnant.
This being a Wells book, nobody will be surprised that this expedition
is attacked. Things proceed from there.
A good case can be made that Wells actually writes totally orthodox
genre fantasy. But to make that case would spoil at least her
first three books, so I'm not going to do it.
At any rate, <City of Bones> is a good adventure story, though its
villains are a shade too villainous, and its setting way too dry,
to make it entirely fun for me to read. Wells also has the courage
to end it somewhat non-traditionally.
<The Death of the Necromancer>. [New York]: Avon, 1998.
The book has 359 pages in 22 chapters. However, Wells's later books
have larger pages than her Tor books; it's possible that this is
actually longer than one or both of the previous two. There are
acknowledgements at the end.
This time we are mostly in Vienne, the capitol of Ile-Rien, though
we visit the palace a time or two and also Lodun, the nearish city
where the university is. Gaslights exist, but are somewhat
newfangled; there are newish straight streets down which carriages
roll; as the book opens, the secondary viewpoint character is
arriving at a ball, escorted by a man who resigned his commission
in the Queen's Eighth Brigade under less than perfect circumstances.
They are there so she can disable the house's wards; this, in turn,
is so the primary viewpoint character, her actual lover, can rob
its basement. But she finds that the wards have already been
disabled, he finds that the house has already been robbed - but
*not* of its gold! - and to top it off, he's attacked by some
horrifying creature that flees to the sewer.
Meanwhile, the duchess hosting the ball had been visited by a
spiritualist claiming to be able to put her in touch with her dead
husband, and incensed that she'd rather contact her son. While odd,
the incident, overheard by Our Heroine, would scarce merit notice,
except that the same spiritualist visits Our Hero later that same
night, makes peremptory demands concerning the recent visit to the
basement, attempts a magical attack, and when shot, dissolves into
dust. No such golem could be made by a two-penny fraud of a
spiritualist, so presumably he has some ally or is himself more
than he seems; and odds-on, he has something to do with the ghoul.
This is quite possibly Wells's best book. It's certainly her most
highly praised. By making her protagonists a master criminal and
his moll, she went against the grain; she also makes them go against
their own, in a thoroughly believable way. The combination is
fascinating. The setting also has its exotic elements; no serious
alternate history reader would accept this as How England Would Be
If Magic Worked, and various internal references put us far too
close in date to the Renaissance depicted in <The Element of Fire>
(though at least that's arguably consistent with magical acceleration
of development). But it's fun, if nothing else, to see Sherlock
Holmes and Moriarty both, in a fantasy, and not have it dissolve
into a bad joke. And the book itself is masterful adventure with
searching character studies worked in.
<Wheel of the Infinite>. [New York]: HarperCollins, [2000].
(Note that Wells didn't change publishers at this time, per se;
all three of her more recent books came from Eos, which was an
Avon imprint in 1998 and a HarperCollins one in 2000 and 2003.)
The book has 355 pages in 18 chapters. The type is set with a
good deal more leading than in <The Death of the Necromancer>,
so this is undoubtedly shorter than any of the previous books;
it's also the first to have fewer chapters than its predecessor.
Maskelle is travelling with a troupe of Ariaden players to Duvalpore,
capitol of the Celestial Empire; they are travelling through muddy
jungle, under relentless rain. On a side trip she goes to the
river and finds there a lot of raiders having fun torturing someone.
She goads them into releasing him for a fair fight, in return for
her blessing:
"As Maskelle faced the room and lifted her staff above her head, the
raiders' leader called out, 'Attend to the nun, you bastards!' She
grinned derisively around at her companions. 'She's going to give
us a blessing!'
"Some of the raiders turned toward this new diversion, but most were
too occupied by the fighting to listen. A man almost too drunk to
stand on his feet staggered up on the platform muttering, 'Kill
the Koshan bitch - '
"Maskelle swung her staff down and around, slamming him in the chest
and sending him crashing backward off the platform. That got their
attention.
"The shouts and drunken roaring died away. Into the relative quiet
Maskelle said, 'I am the Voice of the Adversary.'
"She hadn't spoken loudly, but her words carried across the room.
There were gasps and outcries, proving that some of the raiders at
least were among the devout. One quick thinker turned and dived
out the nearest window. The leader stared around, baffled and
angry.
"Maskelle spoke the first words of the Great Opening. This was too
much presumption for the myriad forces of the Infinite to ignore.
All the lamps in this half of the chamber flickered and died."
I'm not sure what else I can say, even about who the secondary
viewpoint character is, without giving too much away. I will note
that I do not recognise the religion here as any specific East or
South Asian religion, though it may have points of contact with
Tibetan Buddhism (of which I know very little); its Ancestors
don't strike me as much like Confucian ones, but I'm also fairly
ignorant of Shinto and they may be Shinto ancestors. The Celestial
Empire is certainly not known to me from Earth history. The general
setting is definitely somewhere between India and Shanghai,
fantasticated.
In this book, as in no other, Wells attempted to deal with the
genuinely numinous, with magic as a religious phenomenon in which
the magician is generally the least powerful element, rather than
as a more or less scientific phenomenon as in Ile-Rien and even
(if less well understood) in Charisat. To what extent she succeeds,
is hard to say; while most comment I've seen on this book is
favorable, it probably has, um, the 'highest negatives' of any of
her books.
This is also partly due to the fact that (as already my introductions
has shown, in mentioning books that begin with break-ins, and people
approaching capitols with players) Wells repeats herself a lot, and
in this book the repetitions finally approach the breaking point. To
do this post, I read the five books in order. I think this is a
worthwhile thing for anyone to do who admires Wells's writing and is
willing to watch her ring changes on themes, but it's *NOT* how I'd
recommend someone new to her proceed. First see what you think;
then, if you like the water, dive in.
At any rate, I do like this book a fair bit, though I recognise that
its plot resolution seems neat and tidy where the other books'
seem thorough and effective, and may not hold up to scrutiny.
(Well, um, folks, sorry, but I'm not actually sure the ending of
<The Death of the Necromancer> holds up to serious scrutiny...)
I also recognise that its repetitions may make it harder for some
to read, but I think the ways those repetitions are also reworkings
makes it all worthwhile.
<The Wizard Hunters: Book One of the Fall of Ile-Rien>. [New York]:
HarperCollins, c 2003.
There are 392 pages in 22 chapters, of which the first five have
location headings. This is not only the beginning of a trilogy,
but also the first book to be longer than its predecessor, and
probably, though not certainly, the longest Wells has written.
It is, very roughly, one generation later than <The Death of the
Necromancer>, and we are unequivocally in the 20th century. We
know this partly because Ile-Rien is being attacked by a force who
do not negotiate, have already taken over at least one neighbouring
country, can defuse magic, and have dirigibles. (Other good hints
from the opening pages are a professional journal and a Civilian
Defense Board.) Again, progress has been remarkably rapid. I see
nothing in this book that would allow me to provide a more precise
estimate of how long the gap was.
Our protagonist is a young playwright and writer of serials and
penny dreadfuls, also a young gad-about-town good-time girl, who
has found the war extremely hard to take. The professional journal
on page one is <Medical Jurisprudence>; she's researching how to
kill herself without causing a scandal, since volunteering for the
bomb squad didn't work. The knock at the door that distracts her
from it is made by her erstwhile guardian, who works on the sorcerous
project her father (a character from <The Death of the Necromancer>)
funded, in an early experiment of which her father was lost. He has
arrived to ask for her help with the project.
Meanwhile, in alternate chapters at first, our secondary viewpoint
character is a young man who, with his foster cousin, the Chosen
Vessel of Cineth, is trying to find out who has reoccupied the
island offshore from their village. That island is normally used
only by wizards. All wizards are evil, and it's the Chosen Vessel's
job to get rid of them and their curses.
Inevitably, these viewpoint characters and their pals meet, and
various events ensue.
Pretty much everything I've said above applies, and this is by no
means a bad book. Also, this is the first time I've read it, and my
first-reading opinions of Wells's books have varied (though not,
I think, very much). But this book *feels* slacker than usual to me.
Characters experience more or less the same situation repeatedly. I
can justify this as realistic, but, um, well, I'm not at all convinced
I can justify the whole setup as realistic, so that's not good enough
for me. That said, this is the first book of a trilogy, and I'm
prepared to believe Wells has some Good Reason for doing things this
way.
I just hope I'm right, because while Wells has a fairly narrow range,
she fills that range with considerable invention and enjoyable brio,
and it would be a shame for her to slacken into just another trilogy
writer. Regardless, her first four books await anyone on this
newsgroup who *hasn't* read them by now, and are among the minor
treasures of the fantasy genre.
Joe Bernstein
--
Joe Bernstein, writer j...@sfbooks.com
<http://these-survive.postilion.org/> At this address,
personal e-mail is welcome, though unsolicited bulk e-mail is unwelcome.
In article <bfclq3$ap2$2...@reader1.panix.com>, I wrote:
> Somewhat to my surprise, Google informs me of no "Novels of Martha
> Wells" post, although each of her individual books has been
> reviewed here (and each favorably, at that).
I meant to list some of the better reviews in my post, but am already
way behind schedule with this, so didn't. Maybe later, if anyone's
interested. I didn't read many at the Google session during which
I was establishing that there had been no "Novels of" post, and read
none while I was actually re-reading the books, although Genevieve
Ellerbee's comments some while back on <The Wizard Hunters> are what
first made me aware of that book, and led me to this project.
> She carefully manages the information she conveys to the reader at
> every step along the way, and the sheer bravado and effectiveness
> of this management make me extremely hesitant to say much about
> the plots, or even the settings or characters, of her books, in an
> introductory post.
I'd be very happy to produce more specific examples, but the books
are due very soon, and I probably won't before I return them. If
anyone wants such examples and nobody supplies them, I'll see what
I can do. (I own, myself, only two of these books - Ms. Wells's
career has not overlapped much with my periods of wealth and are
not easily found used. The two I own are in storage in a city I
can't get to this month. So I'll have to wait until the libraries
have re-shelved the books, and <The Wizard Hunters> will be checked
out by someone else first, who has already requested it.)
Identifying the vague examples:
> Two examples, one whose purpose is clear, the other whose purpose
> is far from clear. In one of her novels, the reader learns a great
> deal about the past of the main viewpoint character, but only *very*
> gradually; important parts of the picture arrive only in the final
> pages.
This much could be true equally of Khat in <City of Bones> or of
Nicholas Valiarde in <The Death of the Necromancer>, but
> I'm quite sure this is no accident; it serves simultaneously
> to make the character more sympathetic than most readers would likely
> find him were his whole past revealed up front, and to keep the reader
> only a little better informed than the secondary viewpoint character
> is.
this is clearly Khat. (Nicholas becomes *more* sympathetic the more
we know of him; early on he's basically a dangerous criminal, albeit
one out of whose eyes we're seeing. And Madeline knows his whole
story from getgo, this is one of the first things we learn about their
relationship.)
> In contrast, in another novel, a panoply of technology highly
> consistent with that known in a particular historical period of Earth
> is shown, but one of the key pieces of that technology doesn't appear
> until quite late in the book.
I could be wrong, but I don't think so. This is the telephone, in
<The Wizard Hunters>.
> <The Element of Fire>. New York: Tor, [1993].
> Much of what I'd want to say about any Wells book is true of this one,
> so I'll give the basic description up front. The principal characters,
> who are always two,
So far, one is always male, and the other female, and the permutations
of romantic attraction are not very wide:
<The Element of Fire> Romance starts near book's end
<City of Bones> Romance is desired at least by the woman, I think by
both, but doesn't happen
<The Death of the Necromancer> Romance endures through the whole book
<Wheel of the Infinite> Romance starts near book's start, and even, in
a sense, results in a child
<The Wizard Hunters> Romance remains incipient, though it's desired
(again) at least by the woman
(It occurs to me that Wells's straight men seem nearly as nonresponsive
to feminine beauty or proximity as Connie Willis's, on average, or
else at least Ilias's viewpoint in <The Wizard Hunters> is massively
self-censored. For her others I suppose she has excuses: Thomas
Boniface is Old Enough To Know Better, Khat is from a different
species, Nicholas Valiarde is obsessed, and Rian is at least in love
or something. But Ilias doesn't strike me as a particularly normal
young man, that's for certain sure. Well, this could change...)
My mind isn't *exclusively* devoted to One Thing. Another thing I
noticed is that the protagonists' conflicts are pretty consistent,
too. Her female protagonists always have Issues With Father Figures
that conflict with their ability to use their magic. (For Tremaine
Valiarde and Kade Carrion, it's their actual fathers, combined in
Tremaine's case with the still-at-book's-end unshaken certainty
that she can't *do* magic. For Maskelle and Elen, it's their
spiritual fathers, sorta, with in Maskelle's case a big heap of help
from an actual deity, and a whole raft of other conflicts just to
spice things up. Madeline is the most distinctive: her Issues are
with her whole family, as exemplified mainly in her grandmother.)
Her male protagonists vary more, interestingly, but they always have
Issues With The Government. Thomas Boniface because he's in it,
Khat because he's oppressed by it, Nicholas Valiarde because he's
its enemy, Rian because it wants to execute him (well, OK, it's not
THE Government that wants to do that, but it shapes his character
just the same), and Ilias because the customs it espouses have
harmed him despite his own belief in them.
> The principal
> characters consistently change, and arguably grow, over the course of
> the book, and much of what makes these books more than *solely* the
> thrilling adventures they are is that character development.
It's interesting, though, how the development seems to lead consistently
the same direction.
Last line of <The Element of Fire>: "Yes, now we can go." Away from
the palace/fortress, and from Vienne.
Last lines of <City of Bones>: but by morning they were at the docks,
and ready to leave the dust of the city behind them.
Last sentence of <The Death of the Necromancer>: "Let's go." In
this case they've already left Vienne, and are at the port (which
the map in <The Element of Fire> denies both the existence of,
and the need for, by the way.)
It's actually not explicitly stated at the end of <Wheel of the
Infinite>, but I'll be really shocked if Maskelle, Rian, and Siri
stay in Duvalpore.
The story of <The Wizard Hunters> hasn't really ended yet, so it
doesn't count.
On a separate note, I have no idea whether "Siri" here is a reference
to Dan Simmons or not, but I'm practically sure that Riverside as
described in the Ile-Rien books is an explicit homage to <Swordspoint>.
> <City of Bones>. New York: Tor, [1995].
> A good case can be made that Wells actually writes totally orthodox
> genre fantasy. But to make that case would spoil at least her
> first three books, so I'm not going to do it.
Lois Tilton correctly noted the essential plot similarity between
<City of Bones> and <Wheel of the Infinite> on this group some
while back. But it doesn't stop there.
For all practical purposes, each of Wells's books except <The Death
of the Necromancer> is about an alien invasion. In <City of Bones>
and <Wheel of the Infinite> the invaders are super-powerful
creatures who've laid their own world waste, and might as well
be the same species. In <The Element of Fire> they're the Unseelie
Court, and they want to eat humans, not replace us. In <The Wizard
Hunters>, we don't yet know any motivation, though the Gardier
very strongly resemble Nazis; I'm counting on them to eventually
*have* a motivation, out of confidence in Wells based on her work
to date, but I sure don't see it yet. So the similarity is strongest
between <City of Bones> and <Wheel of the Infinite>, but it's not
absent elsewhere: Wells writes books about Saving The World!
The exception is of course <The Death of the Necromancer>. Whatever
Constant Macob is up to seems much less threatening than the alien
invasions in the other four books, for all that it's horrifying in
itself. But again here, we have what amounts to a Saving The World
motivation, just on a much smaller and saner scale.
> Wells also has the courage to end it somewhat non-traditionally.
(<City of Bones>, that is.) See under romance, above.
> <The Death of the Necromancer>. [New York]: Avon, 1998.
> This is quite possibly Wells's best book.
After this reading, I'm pretty sure the other one I'd consider would
be <City of Bones>. Pity these are also the ones I like the least,
but one can't have everything.
> <Wheel of the Infinite>. [New York]: HarperCollins, [2000].
> (Well, um, folks, sorry, but I'm not actually sure the ending of
> <The Death of the Necromancer> holds up to serious scrutiny...)
There's something way too easy about the way Rive Montesq's downfall
just *happens* after plans that have explicitly taken someone as
bright as Nicholas Valiarde years to put into place have been
thoroughly scotched. If it was that easy, it shoulda happened sooner,
gosh durn it.
> I also recognise that its repetitions may make it harder for some
> to read, but I think the ways those repetitions are also reworkings
> makes it all worthwhile.
I like it that this time our priestess-magician with a crisis of
confidence is middle-aged and is the primary viewpoint character
and is brassy and has a real religion to believe in. I like it
that this time our whole religion isn't suborned by conspiracy.
I like it that this time the alien invaders turn out to be a
sideshow, and even minimally sympathetic in their own right.
Obviously, I also like the way *this* time saving the world makes
it possible for the world to be decently livable for lots of
people, and leaves a romance not only possible but solid. It's
the sentimentalist in me, and not a Sound Literary Judgement,
natch. But regardless, I can make a good case that Wells wasn't
just going back to the well, was genuinely reworking and not just
rewriting.
> <The Wizard Hunters: Book One of the Fall of Ile-Rien>. [New York]:
> HarperCollins, c 2003.
> I see
> nothing in this book that would allow me to provide a more precise
> estimate of how long the gap was.
Honest, I haven't a clue. The best I can do is that Tremaine had
to have been born before Madeline went into menopause. No surviving
character is too old for there to have been, say, fifty years in
between; none is too young for, say, thirty (the lower limit being
about 27, since Tremaine is 26).
> Characters experience more or less the same situation repeatedly.
Exactly how many scenes of Our Heroes in Gardier Prisons do we *need* ?
> I can justify this as realistic, but, um, well, I'm not at all convinced
> I can justify the whole setup as realistic, so that's not good enough
> for me.
Give me some reason for the Gardier to be acting this way, and some
explanation of why their whole empire hasn't collapsed yet like the
pyramid scheme it patently is, and maybe I can go back to the question
why they're such incompetent jailors with a more open mind. As things
stand, colour me doubtful.
Regardless, there are things I do like here. I like it that she's
bringing settings together, though I'll be just as happy if we
*don't* end up with the so-far stand-alone books knitted in, thank
you. I like a fair amount about Tremaine's character development,
which is not actually the same thing as finding it credible. (I
*think* I also find it credible, but am not sure.) The religion in
which Magic Is Eeeevil is if anything *more* sympathetically done
than that in Naomi Kritzer's recent books, though they differ in
that the one Martha Wells writes about has real live gods handy.
So really, I'm not trying to say "Nobody read <The Wizard Hunters>!"
I just felt obligated to warn people that, taken by itself, which
is admittedly *not* a fair thing to do to a trilogy's first book,
it's not the amazing thing some of her other books are.
Anyway, I'm tired, it's much later than it should have been, and
this is all I can write right now. But Martha Wells repeats herself
in ways other than the ones I've mentioned, and works interestingly
with those repetitions in ways other than the ones I've mentioned.
If I think of more examples later, I'll post 'em; if others think
of them, please confine them to this subthread so as to protect
the innocent? But I look forward to seeing 'em.
Great post; enjoyed it particularly as I've got a shiny new copy
of _The Wizard Hunters_ beside me, and I'm very much hoping to
enjoy it as much as I did _Death of the Necromancer_.
> *Much* of
> the pleasure of reading a book by Martha Wells comes from surprise.
It's that plotting thing; we, the modern reader, aren't used to
it anymore.
> <The Death of the Necromancer>. [New York]: Avon, 1998.
> This is quite possibly Wells's best book.
Agreed, and I don't have anything to add to your post other than
a +1 to the suggestion to read this.
> The setting also has its exotic elements; no serious
> alternate history reader would accept this as How England Would Be
> If Magic Worked, and various internal references put us far too
> close in date to the Renaissance depicted in <The Element of Fire>
> (though at least that's arguably consistent with magical acceleration
> of development). But it's fun, if nothing else, to see Sherlock
> Holmes and Moriarty both, in a fantasy, and not have it dissolve
> into a bad joke.
Exactly... I was grinning while reading it. The setting is hardly
one which you could seriously examine, but it's cohesive in terms
of atmosphere, and suits the story perfectly IMHO.
> <Wheel of the Infinite>. [New York]: HarperCollins, [2000].
> To what extent she succeeds,
> is hard to say; while most comment I've seen on this book is
> favorable, it probably has, um, the 'highest negatives' of any of
> her books.
I like it, a lot. However, I do agree with your point that there
are recognisable Wells elements in the story and that, especially
if read immediately following another of hers, you might get some
deja vu. However, I think she's far from re-treading old ground,
and I see considerably more invention in her books that almost
all the other fantasies cluttering my shelves these last few
years, and am quite prepared to enjoy her trademarks.
As for negative comments, I often think it's more interesting
when a book polarises opinions - got to something worth arguing
about, and often I enjoy reading uneven, provided it hits a few
high notes, than something reliably bland.
> <The Wizard Hunters: Book One of the Fall of Ile-Rien>. [New York]:
I skipped this - as it's probably next on my list I don't want
any spoilers. Part of me is actually saddened by the period,
part of me loves watching swashes getting buckled, and would
cheerfully read a few more set back around _The Element of Fire_.
(Hardly challenging fantasy genre conventions I know, but she
does them so well!)
Another part of me is worried by the signs that she's committing
trilogy - I'm hoping it'll be loosely linked rather than
_The Wizard Hunters_ requiring a direct sequel to be complete.
Much of my enjoyment of her novels so far is that she's one
of the few fantasy writers who has been producing satisfying
standalone (ie, proper) novels.
--
David Kennedy
www.dkennedy.org
> Ravenna's dead husband, Fulstan, had another child, by a fayre (sic)
> woman who enchanted him for a time; a daughter, for some time
> away from the court, now known as Kade Carrion, who periodically
Isn't there currently an active thread about inane character names?
--KG
>Another part of me is worried by the signs that she's committing
>trilogy - I'm hoping it'll be loosely linked rather than
>_The Wizard Hunters_ requiring a direct sequel to be complete.
>Much of my enjoyment of her novels so far is that she's one
>of the few fantasy writers who has been producing satisfying
>standalone (ie, proper) novels.
The problem is the incredible pressure that editors and publishers put on
authors to do a trilogy. Not all authors like having to do this, but
sometimes have little choice.
The Fall of Ill-Rein is pretty much one story, though she's tried to end each
book at an end of a specific sequence of events which prepare for the next.
Book Two has a stronger ending than book one. All-in-all, book one had to
spend time setting things up. Book two is, in my opinion, where it really
starts rocking.
Troyce
>Is _The Wizard Hunters_ ends with cliffhanger ? Or it have at least
>some plot resolution ? I had a big disappointment with Wright's
Not a cliffhanger. It ends with the end of one phase of the war, making
preparations for the next phase.
Troyce
> > I'm quite sure this is no accident; it serves simultaneously
> > to make the character more sympathetic than most readers would likely
> > find him were his whole past revealed up front, and to keep the reader
> > only a little better informed than the secondary viewpoint character
> > is.
>
> this is clearly Khat. (Nicholas becomes *more* sympathetic the more
> we know of him; early on he's basically a dangerous criminal, albeit
> one out of whose eyes we're seeing. And Madeline knows his whole
> story from getgo, this is one of the first things we learn about their
> relationship.)
I found that while I intellectually realized that Nicholas was a
dangerous criminal during DotN, it wasn't until I read Wizard Hunters
that I really understood that aspect of him. I needed to see some of
his activities through his daughter's eyes to realize this. I'm not
sure what to think about Nicholas' post-DotN activities, since his
revenge has been executed, and he's also developed a strong
relationship with the primary agent of law enforcement for the city.
Does he continue running a criminal empire? I can't quite see
Nicholas being able to justify it, but then, Tremaine's account of her
growing up seems to indicate that her father is still involved in
dangerous activities.
> > <The Element of Fire>. New York: Tor, [1993].
>
> > Much of what I'd want to say about any Wells book is true of this one,
> > so I'll give the basic description up front. The principal characters,
> > who are always two,
>
> So far, one is always male, and the other female, and the permutations
> of romantic attraction are not very wide:
I enjoy how the author uses romance and attraction in the books
(caveat: City of Bones is my least favorite of hers, and doesn't get
reread much). It creates a nice interplay between her two leads, but
it doesn't make them *stupid*. She also avoids setting up problems
that could be solved if only the characters would simply *talk* to
each other, which is one of the problems I have with Connie Willis.
> My mind isn't *exclusively* devoted to One Thing. Another thing I
> noticed is that the protagonists' conflicts are pretty consistent,
> too. Her female protagonists always have Issues With Father Figures
> that conflict with their ability to use their magic. (For Tremaine
> Valiarde and Kade Carrion, it's their actual fathers, combined in
> Tremaine's case with the still-at-book's-end unshaken certainty
> that she can't *do* magic. For Maskelle and Elen, it's their
> spiritual fathers, sorta, with in Maskelle's case a big heap of help
> from an actual deity, and a whole raft of other conflicts just to
> spice things up. Madeline is the most distinctive: her Issues are
> with her whole family, as exemplified mainly in her grandmother.)
Hah, good catch. I hadn't noticed that.
> Her male protagonists vary more, interestingly, but they always have
> Issues With The Government. Thomas Boniface because he's in it,
> Khat because he's oppressed by it, Nicholas Valiarde because he's
> its enemy, Rian because it wants to execute him (well, OK, it's not
> THE Government that wants to do that, but it shapes his character
> just the same), and Ilias because the customs it espouses have
> harmed him despite his own belief in them.
I don't know that Nicholas is the enemy of the government, per say;
he's very direct in who he wants to destroy, but he doesn't seem to be
giving much thought to the queen or the people who serve her. It's
more personalized, wouldn't you say? Nicholas reluctantly admires
(yet still opposes) Whoosisface (blanking out on the detective's name)
but the only reason the man is on Nicholas' radar screen at all is
because the man stands in the way of the criminal activities that are
building the engine of destruction against the enemy who framed his
father. Arrgh, I'm phrasing this all very badly. I suppose I mean
that while Nicholas doesn't have any love for the judge who sentenced
his father to death, he's not out trying to kill him. He's seeking
revenge on the man who framed his father and put him in the court to
be tried.
> On a separate note, I have no idea whether "Siri" here is a reference
> to Dan Simmons or not, but I'm practically sure that Riverside as
> described in the Ile-Rien books is an explicit homage to <Swordspoint>.
Yes, it seems very likely. I don't like Swordspoint quite as much,
but it is an entertaining read.
> >
> > (Well, um, folks, sorry, but I'm not actually sure the ending of
> > <The Death of the Necromancer> holds up to serious scrutiny...)
>
> There's something way too easy about the way Rive Montesq's downfall
> just *happens* after plans that have explicitly taken someone as
> bright as Nicholas Valiarde years to put into place have been
> thoroughly scotched. If it was that easy, it shoulda happened sooner,
> gosh durn it.
I may have to read it again with an eye to this, but isn't it because
Nicholas now has allies in powerful and high places that this downfall
becomes so easy?
I have to wrap this up because I have actual work to do, but I did
think the Wizard Hunters was a promising start. I'm not surprised
that the Gardier are still rather enigmatic at this point, and I liked
seeing them move from a faceless and undefeatable enemy to something
that could be taken down. I'm a little worried about Tremaine's orb
being the only weapon in this war - it could be lost so easily! - but
if it's really Aristilde inside it, I suppose it's possible. The
feeling of desperation that the people of Il-Rien must be going
through was really well conveyed. It makes me anxious on their
behalf.
Genevieve
>> On a separate note, I have no idea whether "Siri" here is a reference
>> to Dan Simmons or not, but I'm practically sure that Riverside as
>> described in the Ile-Rien books is an explicit homage to <Swordspoint>.
>
>Yes, it seems very likely. I don't like Swordspoint quite as much,
>but it is an entertaining read.
Nope, it's not. I don't think she's read any Dan Simmons or Ellen Kushner's
"Swordspoint." She tends to just make-up names.
Interesting story: She just made up the name Ille-Rien when writing ELEMENT.
Then she got a letter from N. Lee something or other, I'm blanking on her
name. Norman Spinrad's wife. She read the book for a French publisher she
was working for, and mention how the name Ill-Rien might have a problem in
French edition since it means "nowhere land" (She's since sold Element and
Necromancer both to a French publisher, and they left the name as is). Martha
had no idea that's what it meant, despite two years of college French. She
just made up a French sounding name.
>> There's something way too easy about the way Rive Montesq's downfall
>> just *happens* after plans that have explicitly taken someone as
>> bright as Nicholas Valiarde years to put into place have been
>> thoroughly scotched. If it was that easy, it shoulda happened sooner,
>> gosh durn it.
>
>I may have to read it again with an eye to this, but isn't it because
>Nicholas now has allies in powerful and high places that this downfall
>becomes so easy?
That epilogue was created while standing around in the kitchen one evening
after the book was finished. She liked the way it brought things full circle
with Montesq, and provided a way for Nicholas to deal with his Donatien
persona.
Troyce