A Cover Worth Ten Coppers? Don't Judge.

Morgan Howell - A Woman Worth Ten Coppers.jpeg

I almost didn't buy A Woman Worth Ten Coppers, because the cover looked so trashy. As a rule--and I know this is going to sound strange, coming from a Laurell K. Hamilton fan--I'm not a big fan of books with buxom, half naked girls on their covers. Generally, I like to preserve the illusion that I'm reading literature--not porn. That being said, when I read the back of the book, the plot sounded intriguing, so I overcame my embarrassment and bought it.


I'm glad I did. Morgan Howell is a relatively new writer, someone I've never heard of before. Within two days, I'd read Coppers, and returned to our favorite haunt, the bookstore, looking for more. I was delighted to discover, she's also written another series! King's Property, Clan Daughter, and Royal Destiny tell the story of a woman who rises from slavery to power, becoming queen of a misunderstood and often maligned race. I wish I'd read this trilogy first; it's set in the same universe as Coppers, and it provides some crucial back-story on the evil, which is well on its way to plaguing the world in that book. The stories aren't directly related; you don't need to read one, to understand or enjoy the other. Nevertheless, if you're a plot nerd like me, you'll appreciate this advice.


I'm one of those people who finds The Lord of the Rings a frustrating read, because it doesn't provide enough back-story on who those Numenorians were, and how they ended up in those barrows. I mean, were the barrow wights there before? Did the Numenorians become the barrow wights? Were the barrow wights attracted to the Numenorians' power somehow?


Seriously. That being said, what makes Coppers--and, so far, Howell's writing as a whole--a standout is the complexity of her characters, and the sensitivity with which she portrays their struggles. Coppers tells the story of a young woman who, through a random twist of fate, becomes a slave. She's neither wholly resigned to her fate, nor is she wholly rebellious. She's not one of those "spunky" heroines, spewing obnoxious one-liners even as she wrestles with trite inner demons. She's a real person. Her new owner is neither a terrible person, nor a saint. He believes in the institution of slavery; it's part of his culture. He's confused by his conflicting desires to treat his new property as a real person, and, at the same time, use her. Their relationship, such as it is, gives this book a powerful center.


For a wonder, the plot is good, too. Howell has a talent of writing concisely, peppering her plot with lots of action, while still adding depth and nuance. Her stories aren't simple or simplistic; I've been consistently surprised and delighted by the paths her characters take. I hate it when plot "twists" are obvious; I feel like I'm outwitting the author or, as Oscar Wilde wrote, going into battle with an unarmed man. Howell is a wonder, in that she's completely original.


Unlike some other favorite authors--Robert Jordan comes to mind, not to speak ill of the dead--Howell doesn't get bogged down in innumerable plot twists, or three page long descriptions of clothing, food, or surroundings. She clearly loves her characters, but she's not in love with them. If you like real people and meaningful conflicts, but you wish the "good" fantasy on your shelf had more action and less stertorous political intrigue, existential angst, and commentary on the tastiness of goat's milk, then Howell's the author for you.


I actually remembered the plot nuances of Coppers a week after I finished reading it. That's rare; most of the time, at least for me, all these "hero awakens to his destiny, slays the villain, saves the princess" stories run together. I remember what happened, but after awhile I sort of forget why--or why I cared. Even worse are those instances where the author is clearly trying too hard. I love urban fantasy, all our regular readers know that, but I seriously don't need another Hamilton or Butcher rip-off. Believe it or not, I'm actually not pining for yet another proto-Rice dialectic on the miseries of isolation being a vampire brings.


You can never see the sun again; life after death is your own private apocalypse. I get it. Rent "What's Eating Gilbert Grape."


In Coppers, Howell brings the gritty, "real world" flavor of urban fantasy to the more traditional landscape of high fantasy. She manages to avoid the clichés of both. Instead, she melds the genres seamlessly to create something that, to some extent, defies categorization. She gives us a strong female heroine without being preachy or turning her book into a platform for women's issues; she gives us a lush, believable, somewhat medieval fantasy world without drawing on Tolkien or the Camelot myth. And, this is what makes Howell so different. She's new, she's different, he work is fresh and original. It would be a real shame if she didn't become a massive best selling author, so buy her books!


Both Coppers and the King's Property trilogy get a straight A.

Reader's Block: Can't Get No Satisfaction

When it comes to books, lately, I can't get no satisfaction.  At the beginning of this week, I had LASIK surgery; as I sat in bed last night, trying vainly to read through the bulletproof plastic taped to my face, I realized, this is a metaphor for my current reading experience.  I want to read, I really do, but I can't.  It's not just my recent tendency to fall asleep every time I get comfortable; recent work obligations have been keeping me on my toes.  Even when I can manage to keep my eyes open, there's nothing good to read.  I have reader's block.

Homophobic Content in 'Shadows Return'

lynnflewelling_shadowsreturn.jpgAwhile ago, I wrote a fairly glowing review of Lynn Flewelling's Nightstalker series.  Now, with Shadows Return, I retract it.  In its entirety.  This review is going to be fairly short, because I'm not good at talking about things that disgust me.  One of the great goals of the gay rights movement has been to increase awareness of the fact that, ultimately, there really is no such thing as "gay" rights.  There are "human being" rights, and your sexuality doesn't define you--or your experience in the world.  The designation "gay" doesn't give us any insight into a person's character, any more than the designation "straight" does.  To me, using "gay" as a plot device, in the sense that all gay people react to things a certain way, is offensive.

What's even more offensive is saying that, unlike a woman, a gay man can't be raped, if he experiences physical arousal.  What's even MORE offensive is saying that, unlike a woman, for whom rape is a cataclysmic, life altering event, a gay man doesn't experience even mild discomfort.  A gay man can, apparently, just keep right on going, because it's just sex--and, therefore, no big deal.  Well, gosh, where to begin with this one.  Do I really need to tell you this is all bullshit?  Apparently, I do--because, not only did Lynn Flewelling write a book about it, her editor was either so homophobic, or brain dead, that he let it go.

The Nightstalker series features two protagonists, partners Alec and Seregil.  The basic theme of Shadows Return is, Alec and Seregil go on a diplomatic mission, where they're both kidnapped, and, they think, taken to separate destinations.  What they don't realize, but you can see coming from the first chapter, is those "separate destinations" are actually in the same house!  While Alec languishes in slavery in the basement, Seregil languishes in torment in the tower.  Seregil is tied to a bed, drugged, and repeatedly raped.  Flewelling, disappointingly, makes no effort to contextualize her character's experience.  Instead, she treats us to the Happy Valley version of torture.  Her attitude, throughout the book, seems to be, "eh, no big deal."  There's never any sense of danger, or foreboding, because, quite frankly, Flewelling doesn't take her character's experience seriously.

Once Seregil escapes--of course he escapes--he returns to Alec, and all is well.  Alec, of course, having seen Seregil with his tormentor once or twice, is burning with jealousy.  The main issue of their reunion is, how can Alec ever overcome his jealousy?  I think what makes me angriest is, Flewelling plays right into the most destructive homophobic stereotype of all: that gay relationships aren't "real" relationships.  Seregil is a slut and Alec is a screaming queen.

I think Flewelling should be ashamed of herself.  She'd be better off spewing her bilious, homophobic nonsense out in the open, with Anne Coulter, than trying to pass herself off as a novelist.  The only "fantasy" here is the notion that gay people don't really feel things like the rest of us, because they're not really people.  Don't give your money to a homophobe.

Grade: F

The 'Eldest' Tale Ever Told

Paolini - Eldest.jpg

Christopher Paolini has taken a lot of flak for being derivative. The comparisons of the Inheritance Cycle to popular classics like Star Wars are legion--and rightly so. But what his detractors miss is that the value of Paolini's work is not to be found in the nuances of his writing but, as the New York Times said in its original review of Eragon, "in the sweep of the story and the conviction of the storyteller." It is that conviction that drives these books, and with the second book of the trilogy-cum-tetralogy, Mr. Paolini brings his epic into the teeth of the high drama that the first volume only foreshadowed. In Eldest, the characters find that their toughest trials have only just begun, and the power and wisdom gained throughout the novel end in a clash of battle, betrayal, and brotherhood. 

The Star Wars comparisons, while apt, too often forget that Star Wars itself is merely a (very overt) modern re-telling of mythic themes that have been central to literature and the arts since Western civilization began. George Lucas hardly invented the thematic struggle of the outnumbered forces of good against the vastly superior forces of evil; nor did the symbolism inherent in the "dark father" archetype originate with him. Indeed, the story of the farmboy-become-white-knight is central to the majority of modern epic fantasy. The themes and ideas at play in Eldest are some of the most pervasive in Western culture, and the fact that it is this bedrock upon which Paolini has chosen to found his saga is a testament to the boldness of his story and the confidence of its author, not a necessarily a slight to his creativity. It takes a certain amount of nerve and a good amount of character to set about telling the oldest of stories in a new and personal way. While the story Paolini weaves in Eldest may seem familiar, the simple confidence with which he tells it raises it above the level of boring fantasy re-treads. Paolini manages to take a tried-and-true concept and still give it emotional impact, and in this sense he succeeds.

Eldest falls short, however, in its failure to introduce anything truly new. Reading it, ironically, feels a lot like watching Star Wars: it never fails to entertain, but you know the story too well to really be on the edge of your seat.

'Winter is Coming to HBO'

In case you hadn't heard.

I wonder when A Dance with Dragons is "coming"?  (Couldn't resist.)

'Wrath of the Lich King' Premieres

I haven't played World of Warcraft actively for a while, and even when I was playing more regularly I was never more than a recreational player.  The newest expansion, however, is the biggest the game has ever had, bumping the level cap up to 80 and adding vast new landmasses and adventuring opportunities.

Yesterday, Wired.com posted its Top 4 Reasons You Need Warcraft's Lich King Expansion.

I might have to justify the $15 a month I'm still paying and actually log back in to see what's going on.  After buying Lich King, of course.

Minus X-Wings, Plus Dragons: Parodies of Fantasy Titles

Pat from Pat's Fantasy Hotlist drew my attention to this thread over at the Westeros forums, featuring three hilarious pages of classic epic fantasy cover art, with titles lampooned by one Walter Paisley.

Here are a few of my favorites:


eragon_parody.jpg
dune_parody.jpg

grrm_parody.jpg
twilight_parody.jpg

The Bard Now Has Twitter. We're Hip. We're With It.

Twitter is something I've used myself for quite a while (check me out), but this weekend I started a separate Twitter account for The Accidental Bard and put up a (hopefully) snazzy little badge above the main blog.  My day job often makes it hard to post as much as I'd like here, so I'm hoping to use Twitter to keep the site update to date in between the larger entries.  This is something that other fantasy bloggers like Aidan Moher have done quite successfully.

You can follow the Bard on Twitter here: http://www.twitter.com/accidentalbard.

Seeking More from 'Legend of the Seeker'

Last Saturday night I found myself nodding in my bed, dozing through ABC's slogging 11 o'clock nightly news and waiting for the midnight premiere of Sam Raimi's Legend of the Seeker, the television adaptation of Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth mega-series that we've been reporting on sporadically for the last few months. I began to question my determination to experience this dead-of-night TV event when, as my bedroom clock hit 12:07 a.m., I realized that Daylight Savings Time had ended earlier than I expected and that, at least according to ABC, it was really only 11:07. Nonetheless, I soldiered on, and, despite ABC's annoyingly frequent late night commercial segments, managed to get through the two-hour premiere before passing out.

My past commentary about this show has often been skeptical, usually tongue-in-cheek, and always underscored by a healthy distaste for Terry Goodkind. But despite being a one-man tough crowd, I maintain a certain nostalgia for the first couple of books of the Sword of Truth (before Ayn Rand reared her ugly head and the story was merely an R-rated recycling of standard fantasy tropes, comfortably predictable and suitable for a lazy Friday evening). More than that, I hoped that a quality fantasy series might rejuvenate the genre as a viable television market.

My hopes weren't dashed by the premiere, but Mr. Raimi and Co. have a lot of work left to do if they intend to push the envelope with this series.

On the positive side, the production value was high; Mr. Raimi has come a long way since Xena and Hercules.  The settings were believable, the special effects high-quality (for television), and the costuming was exquisite. 

The actors were enthusiastic but didn't have much to work with. Being the first episode, the writers had a lot of backstory to cover and a lot of worldbuilding to do, which often led to flavorless dialogue that was awkwardly expository.  They did manage to build tension and create something of a sense of mystique, but above all the series opener showed an abundance of potential, as yet unfulfilled.

We'll see if tonight's episode is sharper.
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