What if a lion and panther met in the jungle? There might be some vicious spats at first, but you know those big cats would wind up feeling admiration for the other. Because although they're intensely different creatures, each is a remarkable beast in his own way...
Damianos, Prince of Akielos, is a hero to his countrymen. He's famous for his defeat of Auguste, the heir of a rival kingdom, on the field of battle. His skill in combat is unparalleled, and his future kingship will continue a noble legacy of generations.
But despite his grandeur, Damianos has a soft and loyal heart. So when his own brother moves to betray him, Damianos doesn't see it coming. Forced into slavery, 'Damen' is gifted to Laurent, the younger brother of Auguste, the very man Damen is famed for slaying.
Thus begins an epic tale of war, politics, and power.
I began this series because it comes very highly rated. And I would have stopped at book one, if not for the encouragement of other reviewers. You see, reading book one in this series, Captive Prince, was terrible. The writing itself was very skilled; it wasn't an issue of quality. The problem was, the content was utterly horrific — slavery, rape, and pedophilia are depicted unflinchingly and with excruciating detail. I wanted to pitch the book away from me and scrub my brain.
Regardless of the depravity, you do get the sense, while reading, that foundations are being laid and that great events are brewing, about to boil over. And, indeed, in book two, matters culminate in a way that is truly spectacular writing. Really, I can't praise book two, Prince's Gambit, enough. It will go down as one of the best fantasies that I've had the joy of reading.
Book three, Kings Rising, continues the momentum of Prince's Gambit. I won't say that it was a perfectly stunning conclusion, but it left me very happy overall.
Perhaps the thing I loved most about this series was the characterization, which was incredibly rich, for both major and minor players. Damen, or Damianos, 'Prince-Killer,' is our narrator, and my favorite character. He's not unlike a classical hero — an Achilles or an Alexander. Damen's arc throughout the series was wonderful and distinct.
You get the sense that before his enslavement, Damen lived life as a bit of a simple jock. Despite having a very big heart, he's been unable to put it to good purpose. After being put through the ringer of book one, however, Damen blooms into a powerful man with strongly empathetic feelings. Because of this, he's able to befriend and love Laurent, who is so damaged by life and circumstance, that he's become an icy and unpleasant person.
Oh yes, and how could I finish this review without mentioning the romance? Readers, it was scorching. Whoa, Nelly. In regards to M/M romance, I haven't read anything else yet in the genre that compares to this eroticism. C. S. Pacat knows when to get wordy and when to get crude. Moreover, so much of the characters' individual journeys are at play when they're having sex; it makes the encounters so much more than 'hot scenes.' It bears saying again — I've never read explicit writing quite of this caliber. And if that's the hook that drives you to pick up this series, good!
So, have you read this series yet? Heard of it? It's so exciting when you find an amazing piece of writing, not by keeping up with mainstream media and journalism, but by following bloggers and internet reviewers. The Captive Prince series is special like that — a wonderful and subtle surprise.
Showing posts with label high fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high fantasy. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
The Name of the Wind » Review
I enjoyed Patrick Rothfuss's The Name of the Wind... at times At other moments while reading, I was frustrated, impatient, and sleepy. Yes, sleepy. Usually, books keep me up at night. The Name of the Wind put me to sleep during the day.
To be fair, at 662 pages, with ninety-two chapters, The Name of the Wind is much longer than the books I normally read. It took me two whole weeks to wade through this tome. I was bound the get drowsy during that time! But I think I fell asleep more than the common amount while reading this novel.
Part of it, I think, was the gentle, lulling style of the writing. Rothfuss writes complex, yet flowing sentences that are quite beautiful. They also have an almost poetic rhythm that relaxes instead of excites. His pacing was also unhurried — to an extreme degree. As the first book in a trilogy, I expected The Name of the Wind to be somewhat expository, but I had no idea that the whole book would be exposition.
What I've come to realize is that Rothfuss is writing literary fantasy, to an extent. Literary fiction, unlike other "commercial" fiction, largely ignores those qualities that draw in readers — juicy hooks, brisk pace, familiar plot structure. Instead, the author, content with creating a work of art, busies himself with writing with a more unique structure and style.
For example, at the beginning of The Name of the Wind, we learn that our protagonist, Kvothe, has:
All of these mighty accomplishments are "guns on the wall," as it were, and the rule of commercial fiction is that these guns, shown in Act One, must go off by Act Three. However, out of the slew of flashing guns in The Name of the Wind, only one or two ever go off by the end of the story, despite the reader's waiting. The rest are left for books two and three.
I'm used to each book in a trilogy having an exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution, all to themselves — a microcosm of a complete plot within a larger story. Rothfuss, in The Name of the Wind, does not do this. This book is exposition for the larger story, and as such, no catharsis is achieved by reading this installment. Only rising expectations are gained.
Now, is this a bad thing? Perhaps not, but I certainly found it frustrating.
Despite this, I did find myself enjoying the book, especially in the latter middle of the story. As mentioned before, Rothfuss's writing is very smooth and well-crafted, and I enjoyed the style of writing no less than I did the content.
I liked the worldbuilding as well, which was excellently conveyed by showing, not info-dumping. For example, throughout the book, Kvothe worries over, steals, cajoles, earns, and spends enough money for currency to become a full-fledged motif in The Name of the Wind. Through integrating the money system so naturally into the plot of the book, I found myself understanding this part of Kvothe's world, better than had Rothfuss wrote an appendix on the subject.
One thing I found dismaying was the treatment of women and girls in the story. I'm actually writing a spin-off post right now on the subject, which I may or may not share. I'm not sure how well-founded my complaints are, but I felt that the female characters were not so much characterized as they were categorized by Rothfuss. There were several passages in particular that dealt in soft sexism, that made me want to bang my head against the wall. The thing is, though, in another person's view, the passages that drove me insane might be seen as neutral or nothing to cry over. I just don't know.
Overall, The Name of the Wind wound up disappointing me a little, if only because it came so well-touted by bloggers I respect. It just did not live up to the buzz for me. I will probably read the sequel, A Wise Man's Fear, although I will take a hearty break to read some slimmer fair in between.
To be fair, at 662 pages, with ninety-two chapters, The Name of the Wind is much longer than the books I normally read. It took me two whole weeks to wade through this tome. I was bound the get drowsy during that time! But I think I fell asleep more than the common amount while reading this novel.
Part of it, I think, was the gentle, lulling style of the writing. Rothfuss writes complex, yet flowing sentences that are quite beautiful. They also have an almost poetic rhythm that relaxes instead of excites. His pacing was also unhurried — to an extreme degree. As the first book in a trilogy, I expected The Name of the Wind to be somewhat expository, but I had no idea that the whole book would be exposition.
What I've come to realize is that Rothfuss is writing literary fantasy, to an extent. Literary fiction, unlike other "commercial" fiction, largely ignores those qualities that draw in readers — juicy hooks, brisk pace, familiar plot structure. Instead, the author, content with creating a work of art, busies himself with writing with a more unique structure and style.
For example, at the beginning of The Name of the Wind, we learn that our protagonist, Kvothe, has:
- Killed a king
- Spent the night with a deadly woman, and was the only person ever to survive it
- Was expelled from the University at a younger age than most are admitted
- Composed songs that made minstrels cry
- Burned down the town of Trebon
- Stolen back princesses
- Talked to Gods
- And more
All of these mighty accomplishments are "guns on the wall," as it were, and the rule of commercial fiction is that these guns, shown in Act One, must go off by Act Three. However, out of the slew of flashing guns in The Name of the Wind, only one or two ever go off by the end of the story, despite the reader's waiting. The rest are left for books two and three.
I'm used to each book in a trilogy having an exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution, all to themselves — a microcosm of a complete plot within a larger story. Rothfuss, in The Name of the Wind, does not do this. This book is exposition for the larger story, and as such, no catharsis is achieved by reading this installment. Only rising expectations are gained.
Now, is this a bad thing? Perhaps not, but I certainly found it frustrating.
Despite this, I did find myself enjoying the book, especially in the latter middle of the story. As mentioned before, Rothfuss's writing is very smooth and well-crafted, and I enjoyed the style of writing no less than I did the content.
I liked the worldbuilding as well, which was excellently conveyed by showing, not info-dumping. For example, throughout the book, Kvothe worries over, steals, cajoles, earns, and spends enough money for currency to become a full-fledged motif in The Name of the Wind. Through integrating the money system so naturally into the plot of the book, I found myself understanding this part of Kvothe's world, better than had Rothfuss wrote an appendix on the subject.
One thing I found dismaying was the treatment of women and girls in the story. I'm actually writing a spin-off post right now on the subject, which I may or may not share. I'm not sure how well-founded my complaints are, but I felt that the female characters were not so much characterized as they were categorized by Rothfuss. There were several passages in particular that dealt in soft sexism, that made me want to bang my head against the wall. The thing is, though, in another person's view, the passages that drove me insane might be seen as neutral or nothing to cry over. I just don't know.
Overall, The Name of the Wind wound up disappointing me a little, if only because it came so well-touted by bloggers I respect. It just did not live up to the buzz for me. I will probably read the sequel, A Wise Man's Fear, although I will take a hearty break to read some slimmer fair in between.
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