In which Paul McCartney gets really big. Again. And his band Wings enters Mark II and Mark III phases and has nearly outlived its usefulness to the foIn which Paul McCartney gets really big. Again. And his band Wings enters Mark II and Mark III phases and has nearly outlived its usefulness to the former Beatle.
The near-universal acclaim of the Band on the Run album bringing The McCartney Legacy Volume 1 to a close, in Volume 2 the former Beatle continues to build outward from homemade recordings and bucolic home life to conquering the world on tour and releasing a landmark, three-disc live album.
If McCartney's 1970s were a mountain, Band on the聽Run would be the sudden, unexpected summit after a frustrating trek over irregular ground, Venus and Mars and a聽year of triumphant touring a聽successful effort to at least keep the top in sight, and the rest a still-conspicuous journey downward.聽
The McCartney Legacy Volume 2, which takes us from 1974 to 1980, gets off to a rather slow聽start with a little too much information about Paul's work on his brother's (Mike McGear) album. As a detailed聽biography and sessionography, The McCartney Legacy is, of course, a warehouse of detail on all things Paul. But yes, the authors could have moved a little more quickly in reliving how Our Kid (as McGear affectionately and adorably refers to his brother) helped out his less-talented brother.
The Beatles continue to loom over this book, naturally 鈥� fascinatingly, of course. The three (John, George, Ringo) against one (Paul)聽in an epic lawsuit.
Meanwhile, McCartney picks up a couple of new Wings, including frequently wasted and problematic guitarist Jimmy McCulloch. And the lineup would change still further, Paul continuing to stitch Wings back together with new feathers, but the same problems remain: he's a king who wants to live among the peasants. McCartney loved the band format but equality was not something he was suited for and he inevitably and indisputably ran the show. And the Beatles was a tough act to follow.
"I didn't know how to make a group," McCartney says. "I assumed I must have known because I'd been in the Beatles. But I didn't make the Beatles, it made itself, it was a chemical affair. It wasn't like that in Wings."
Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair continue to take us on a fascinating journey through McCartney's 1970s, if one that occasionally collects some mud on the shoes in the form of extreme detail. But the authors show us the little things that make for an involving narrative, and feature a remarkably wide cast of contributing voices.
McCartney tells his farm visitor Michael Lindsay-Hogg, hired to shoot a promo film, to play with his little girls Stella and Mary while Paul takes a phone call. The girls proceed to tie him to a tree. "Oh, that's a game they like," Paul says when he emerges to find Lindsay-Hogg bound.
Fun little details for the McCartney fan pop up all over. When a horde of rock luminaries turns up at McCartney's sessions for Back to the Egg for two songs, it turns out Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour, trying to keep things from getting too messy with so many musicians, only played one note continuously.
And while the authors' focus obviously is Paul 鈥� and they do a remarkable job of making this complex star a living, breathing, flawed but immensely gifted man 鈥� we get to know Linda, too. Everybody loves Linda (except when they don't), a dedicated mother and Paul protector, stubborn and strong but basically kind, who as a music newbie playing on her husband's albums and with Wings in concert was criticized unmercifully.
Paul scrabbles back into critics' good graces by mid-decade, a massive Wings world tour and the triple album that chronicles it successful in every way. But McCartney, weirdly insecure for someone so talented, often reacted artistically to critical complaints. By decade's end, he's on the road to disbanding Wings, but first there's a tour of Britain, then Japan as 1980 arrives. The book ends with McCartney's arrest for bringing marijuana into the country at the start of the Japan tour, a shockingly stupid move for someone who had been busted before but had a not-entirely unjustified sense of his own entitlement.
The McCartney Legacy Volume 2 doesn't have quite as many typos as the first volume, but it's certainly flawed. Unlike the first book, the photos here have captions, but I confess I'm still not sure which guy in the photos is Steve Holley and which is Laurence Juber in the final Wings lineup. And the authors detail the benefit聽concert for Kampuchea for a couple of pages but neglect to tell us where it was held. Also, sometimes the use of first names can be confusing, especially when there are a couple of Steves hanging around and they don't tell us which one is quoted.
Still, this is an engrossing book, just like the first one. Of course, there's more to come in this series, but we'll have to wait for further volumes. But I'll be by McCartney's side every step of this fascinating trip....more
You were dying to know on what Edinburgh street and from what business the McCartneys bought kilts in mid-August of 1970, weren't you? And surely you You were dying to know on what Edinburgh street and from what business the McCartneys bought kilts in mid-August of 1970, weren't you? And surely you were curious about the matrix numbers for all of Paul's releases?
Details, details. If you want a deep dive into all things Paul McCartney a little before the Beatles breakup and in the four years thereafter, this is the book for you. Part biography of those years, part exhaustive chronicle of his recording sessions, The McCartney Legacy, Volume 1 is almost always fascinating for the Beatles/McCartney fan. Sure, you'll get some information that doesn't do much for you or that might be beyond your knowledge 鈥� for me, documenting songs' key changes or other technical music details qualifies 鈥� but so much fascinating stuff surrounds the trivia that you can, as another Band's song goes, "take what you need and you leave the rest."
Fortunately, this detailed account is well-written and generally well-organized. There are a few careless typos, weird or absent punctuation, and the authors' inconsistent and eccentric use of commas can be distracting. But it's fascinating reading. It clearly was a mind-fuck for McCartney, one of the most famous people in the world, to attempt to start over from scratch musically and retreat to a simple life with his new wife and young girls on a farm in very out-of-the-way rural Scotland.
The authors have neither McCartney's cooperation nor his opposition in this multivolume writing project; he wasn't quoted specifically for this project, but there were so many interviews of McCartney down through the years that that really doesn't matter. Kozinn and Sinclair certainly weren't lazy, though 鈥� there is so much recently sourced material on events that happened in the early 1970s that you wonder how they found all of these people. The authors seem pretty fair in their chronicle 鈥� getting the blessings of Tune In author Mark Lewisohn, who seems to be the greatest Beatles authority on the planet, says they know what they're doing. But keep in mind that this is a warts-and-all book; McCartney definitely isn't St. Paul in these pages.
This first book in the series has the advantage of detailing the most interesting years of McCartney's post-Beatles career, with the legal battles, reunion rumors, McCartney's finding new musicians to play with, his new group Wings' efforts to, well, take wing. The group's two-week university tour very 鈥� very! 鈥� quickly after it was formed is fascinating. Often, the band just turned up in a city and tried to find an open venue to play at a college, sending organizers into quick scramble mode to set up a concert for a couple of thousand or sometimes just hundreds of people even if the band had to play in a dining hall.
The authors make a point of not writing with hindsight, trying to present events, including the largely negative response to McCartney's and Wings' efforts during this time, as they happened. So the fact that McCartney's albums from the 1970s have almost universally undergone positive critical re-evaluation 鈥� sometimes very significant shifts 鈥� is not part of the narrative.
Book 1 comes to a close with McCartney in triumph after the overwhelmingly positive reception of the Band on the Run album (after what some considered four consecutive duds), made after two members quit and recorded under incredibly difficult circumstances mostly in Nigeria, where Paul was mugged at knifepoint and could easily have been murdered.
Lots of interesting pieces of trivia are fed to us along this 672-page journey. I didn't know, for instance, that the 1969 "Paul is dead" rumor started in my home state of Iowa, in the Drake University student newspaper.
The book isn't perfect. I've mentioned the typo problems, which is embarrassing. There also is no index and no captions with photographs (a problem remedied in the second volume). And could they have found a goofier photo of McCartney for the cover? (Answer: probably not).
Still, I really loved this book, deficiencies and details and all. I absolutely feel like I have a real understanding of who Paul and Linda are/were after reading this, and to me, that's the prime test of a biography....more
The fuss over the Tawny Man trilogy makes more sense in light of this often-remarkable series closer. The first two books are good, sharply characteriThe fuss over the Tawny Man trilogy makes more sense in light of this often-remarkable series closer. The first two books are good, sharply characterized volumes that nevertheless are somewhat bloated and lack action. Fool's Fate, at 857 pages in its latest trade paperback incarnation, is easily the longest book in the trilogy but doesn't feel like it. Sure, dragons actually appear in this one and the action quotient takes a definite uptick, but it's still not thrill-a-minute stuff. What the book does have are some of the most deeply felt, intricate relationships I've ever seen in a fantasy novel. It's really a master class by Robin Hobb, and some of the detailed character work from the first two books pays big dividends here, making every step on the journey ultimately worth it.
The relationship between narrator Fitz (the Catalyst) and the Fool (the White Prophet who guides him) is at times as icy as the land in which a legendary, "dormant" dragon is searched for but also warm as a dragon's breath itself. Fitz is part of a group that heads into frozen climes to behead a dragon they aren't even sure exists, to cement a marriage between heads of once-warring nations. But not everyone in the group wants the dragon dead.
It's a slow burn (or freeze) to be sure, but there is so much going on among these characters, and it's so well told by author Hobb, that it's worth (nearly) every page. None of these many relationships stays stagnant, everything's moving; Hobb has so many balls in the air among this rich cast that it doesn't seem possible there are enough hands to keep the act going. There's a great deal of Skilling 鈥� telepathic communication 鈥� going on here, but it's the heart that takes the brunt of these interactions, theirs and ours. Conflict is all over the place in Fool's Fate, but there's more room amid the mental and physical carnage for bonding and love 鈥� several kinds 鈥� than anybody bargained for.
I'm still going to put this series third best among Hobb's three to this point, but Fool's Fate gives the Tawny Man books a big lift....more
There's even less action in Golden Fool than in Book 1, but this middle volume in the Tawny Man trilogy is definitely the better read. Here's a just-bThere's even less action in Golden Fool than in Book 1, but this middle volume in the Tawny Man trilogy is definitely the better read. Here's a just-barely four stars to distinguish that 鈥� Golden Fool is quite good, then, but I continue to be a little perplexed that many (most?) readers seem to think this series is better than Robin Hobb's preceding two.
Golden Fool takes place almost exclusively around Buckkeep, and that narrowed focus carries over to the plot: most of it concerns the political tug of war over people gifted with the Wit, a communication and sensory sharing with an animal whose practitioners face extreme discrimination to the point of fearing for their lives.
As always with Hobb, character interaction is central to everything, and here our hero FitzChivalry, still living as Tom Badgerlock, helps to teach the telepathic magic of the Skill to a halfwit with startling Skill potential while also forming a coterie of Skill users to aid the queen. We also learn more about the "Fool," his role as the White Prophet, and his role in altering the future through Fitz, the "Catalyst."
Fitz alternately 鈥� sometimes simultaneously 鈥� sees his relationships with those closest to him hit the rocks. Everything falls apart at once! Meanwhile, we have our biggest crossover so far featuring other denizens of Hobb's Realm of the Elderlings, as characters from the Liveship Traders trilogy pay a visit to Buckkeep.
Hobb is deepening every strand of story here, on world and local levels, and there is plenty of intrigue and frayed relationships that need mending, including with Fitz and the Fool. Hobb shows a deft hand with the push and pull of complicated connections; caring about these people is especially vital in the Tawny Man trilogy, and the twisting strands of interaction are fascinating to behold 鈥� even if physical action is at a minimum.
A deeply felt middle volume this is, though I think a bit more adventure would have sweetened the pot nicely....more
The first volume of the Tawny Man trilogy is quite good and is not boring, but it is, to put it bluntly, too long for its story.
The third of Robin HobThe first volume of the Tawny Man trilogy is quite good and is not boring, but it is, to put it bluntly, too long for its story.
The third of Robin Hobb's Realm of the Elderlings series picks up 15 years after the first, the Farseer trilogy, with FitzChivalry living a rather secluded life as "Tom Badgerlock" with the wolf Nighteyes, to whom he is bonded via the Wit. This communication and sensory sharing with an animal is a magical power central to the entire novel. Fitz also has the telepathic Skill, through which he can communicate with and influence humans at great distances.
I read the Farseer trilogy more than 15 years ago and was impressed, but I didn't remember much. The even better Liveship Traders trilogy that followed, and which I had read more recently, doesn't have a lot to do with the Farseer trilogy, so I found reading two online summaries of Assassin's Apprentice, Royal Assassin and Assassin's Quest very helpful as I dove into Fool's Errand. It was a long but generally enjoyable swim. The first half of the book brings us up to date on Fitz's life as he gets a series of visits from key figures out of his past. Lots of internal conflict at work. I suspect few people will make this series their first read of Hobb, but I'll throw out a caution against it anyway. Honestly, if I hadn't already known Hobb's work and trust her to deliver the goods, I might have abandoned Fool's Errand 鈥� "Do things ever start to happen?"
The second half, in which Fitz undertakes a quest to find a fleeing (or kidnapped, or lured) young prince and return him in time for his marriage, does perk up. The characters are, as usual, Hobb's main focus, and she does some fantastic work here with old and new folks alike. There is adventure and action in her books, too, though Fool's Errand 鈥� the second Hobb book to which I've given fewer than four stars 鈥� is even more of a slow burn than what has come before. Fitz learns that use of the Wit is involved in the prince's disappearance, and we get a deep, fascinating look at this symbiotic relationship between humans and animals and the scorn and fear it gives rise to.
Hobb's meticulous character-building saves the day. The story, told by Fitz/Tom himself, does get its hooks in you. But as a plot, we have a very leisurely build here. A little too slow, ultimately; though Fool's Errand is the shortest book in the Tawny Man series, it's still too long. A hundred pages or even much more could be cut with ease....more
Another winner from Rebecca Makkai. She's now 4-for-4, sustained excellence that leaves me utterly baffled as to why her novels other than The Great BAnother winner from Rebecca Makkai. She's now 4-for-4, sustained excellence that leaves me utterly baffled as to why her novels other than The Great Believers aren't rated much higher here.
I Have Some Questions for You (4.5 stars rounded down), on the surface, falls firmly in the campus/boarding school crime novel category, but is an up-to-the-minute and powerful take on it, touching on race, social media influence, the treatment of female victims of violent crime, the me-too movement, court and prison, and the persistence (and flaws) of memory.
Makkai has a delightful knack for crafting her novels in such a fashion that they get better all the way through, and that's very much the case here. They're always smart and land pretty hard in your heart and head as you at last close the book.
In I Have Some Questions for You, Bodie Kane returns to teach a pair of two-week courses at the New Hampshire boarding school she attended as an unhappy student 23 years earlier. It's the place where her roommate and not-quite-friend was found dead in a swimming pool, the school's Black athletic trainer ultimately convicted of killing her. The details of the case having become a hot topic online, a student in Bodie's podcasting class chooses the murder of Thalia Keith as her subject, speculating that the wrong man was imprisoned for the crime.
Bodie, at first conflicted and trying to stay neutral, becomes embroiled in the swirl of memory and the jarring reexamination of power and privilege that a couple of decades' distance 鈥� and the fact of being an adult 鈥� can bring.
In these very short chapters Bodie writes as if to a former teacher at the school, interweaving her past as a student with her adult self. Hopping between the past and Bodie's years-after reckoning with it could have been disorienting or annoying in less skilled hands. But Makkai is an exceptionally well-organized writer whose final product never feels bloated; every scene, however small, seems necessary.
I wouldn't categorize this novel as a thriller; it's too character-centered and gradual in its buildup for that. Bodie seems haunted by news reports down the years of dead girls and women, flashes to attract our attention so they may be publicly judged. Her inner turmoil and the reexamination of the case keep simmering, her eyes opening to the past, giving I Have Some Questions for You, thriller or not, some serious and urgent momentum, and in a novel as nuanced yet wide-ranging as this one, the boilover isn't necessarily the end....more
Fittingly for a novel titled The Romantic, this one doesn't really pull us in until its globe-trotting British hero, Cashel Greville Ross, falls head Fittingly for a novel titled The Romantic, this one doesn't really pull us in until its globe-trotting British hero, Cashel Greville Ross, falls head over heels in love.
The book does keep its distance even as Ross' supposed life story gets a lively telling, initially being hard to get one's heart too invested in. But it wins you over in time.
I wouldn't call The Romantic a romp, but for the most part it's a fascinating journey through most of the 19th century, as we follow supposed orphan Cashel, born in 1799, through some fictionalized historical events that might bring to mind Forrest Gump and the like 鈥� enjoyable but a little empty.
I'm not making a hard comparison to Gump; it's just that with touchstones such as Cashel's presence at the Battle of Waterloo and his time with Lord Byron and Mary and Percy Shelley, as well as his involvement in the controversy surrounding Richard Burton and John Speke and the discovery of the source of the Nile River, the sense of borrowing real-life events for narrative momentum is certainly there. But I want to stress that it's not all historical name-dropping.
Among the only constants in Cashel's life are his seemingly doomed love for Raphaella and the companionship of his manservant, Ignatz Vlac. "He thought he could detect a malign pattern to his life 鈥� that he was always moving on, for some reason or other, and leaving someone precious behind."
Yes, sometimes Cashel's hard turns in his 80-plus years of life seem a little random, but William Boyd nonetheless has fashioned an enjoyable tale.
The book's cover, featuring a soaring hot-air balloon, might conjure visions of an Around the World in 80 Days sort of gambol; that would be going too far, even if Cashel does visit France, Austria, Ceylon, America, and Africa. The Romantic is more grounded than that, but the on-again, off-again love story, though not taking up a huge percentage of the narrative, does make the novel soar just enough to snag our own hearts....more
This is one of those cases when I see why a book is beloved, but I just couldn't get into it. There's a distancing approach to The Winter Soldier thatThis is one of those cases when I see why a book is beloved, but I just couldn't get into it. There's a distancing approach to The Winter Soldier that hamstrung my interest; chilly and self-satisfied....more
The Absolutist is both subtle and brutal, mostly the former. It's a moving, tightly controlled look at forbidden acts and the nightmare of war,聽with hThe Absolutist is both subtle and brutal, mostly the former. It's a moving, tightly controlled look at forbidden acts and the nightmare of war,聽with hardly a word wasted or a misstep to be found. Quiet excellence.
Tristan Sadler, a World War I surviving soldier, decides to return to sender the wartime letters written by a woman to her brother, a man Tristan had fleeting sexual liaisons with while serving with the British Army. The Absolutist alternates roughly 50-page sections about Tristan's time with Will Bancroft's sister and Tristan's unburdening of his secrets to her, and Tristan's war experience and quicksilver relationship with his friend Will, who did not survive the war.聽
In keeping with the tenor of the times, Tristan, the narrator, does not go into details about his intimacies with Will. Salacious this novel is not. But Tristan's pain is palpable,聽if churning underneath; he's a man disowned by his family when a forbidden act comes to light just before the war ("It would be best for all of us if the Germans shoot you dead on sight," his father tells him), who then finds his passions with Will frustrated by denial, the fear of exposure, and the compulsion to conform.
The Absolutist is about friendship, strained family relationships, secrets, guilt, conscientious聽objectors, and the terrors of war.
Boyne's depiction of life in the charnel of the wartime trenches of France is more powerful and graphic than I was expecting. His look at the strains of conformity and guilt are less visceral but take just as much of a toll. Some characters in The Absolutist refuse to fight; the army calls these soldiers "feather men." The repercussions of their actions, though, are far from feather light.
It's interesting that, in keeping with the writer's less-is-more approach, we're not thrown into some epic, heart-pounding love story, no such modern take on what were then criminal acts of brief passion or desperation; Boyne instead builds on the slower-accumulating pathos of not following through or following the masses at the expense of your heart.聽
The Absolutist is not great, but it's one of those books you encounter from a previously unread novelist that takes you by the聽lapels and says: You must read more from this guy. I absolutely (!) will....more
At the very least, those who found 2020's The Searcher a little slow and not nearly as riveting as Tana French's other novels 鈥� I was not one of thoseAt the very least, those who found 2020's The Searcher a little slow and not nearly as riveting as Tana French's other novels 鈥� I was not one of those readers 鈥� will, if they've stuck with her, be rewarded with a sequel that is all kinds of good.
The Hunter, the second book chronicling the doings of former Chicago cop Cal Hooper and his turned-out-not-so-relaxing retirement in Ireland, has many of the same people exuding the same layers of cordiality mixed with dark menace, characteristics that seem to come from living in a remote Irish village all your life and suffering the push-pull of neighbors always subtly up in each other's business.
Here the long-absent father of brooding, complex 15-year-old girl Trey 鈥� who galvanized the plot in The Searcher 鈥� returns to Ardnakelty with a mysterious stranger who wants the locals' help, monetary and otherwise, in extracting the gold he convinces them is waiting in them thar Irish hills. But is this just a nefarious scheme? And who exactly is working who; the stranger or the wilier-than-they-seem locals?
Cal, who works with Trey on carpentry projects, is caught up in the churning plotting just like everybody else, not completely comprehending just how much young Trey is bending the whole thing to her own will for revenge on the community that wronged her in The Searcher. Eventually, an act of violence lights a fuse to this powder keg, and French's very simple basic idea gets blowed up real good.
French's strengths are all on display here: brilliant use of colloquial dialogue (perhaps no one now writing is better at making you "hear" accents in the written word: "Are you after getting yourself all in a tither about that bitta nonsense?"), expert characterizations and the undercurrents and the unsaid in seemingly innocuous exchanges, sharp writing and the ability to suck you in deep. French always has been able to do a lot with a little, sometimes making very unlikely plot threads work so well you think she's just challenging herself to see if she can do it. There are no wild notions here though, just a simple premise worked to perfection. The Hunter takes place during a severe heat wave, and French is happy to turn up the flames until everything boils over.
I think it's far more important to have read The Searcher before tackling this book, than it is to read her other books (the first six all come under the Dublin Murder Squad header) in any particular order (though publication order is still probably the best route there). In fact, you won't really understand Trey's motivations unless you've read the previous book; French just assumes you've read it and isn't helping us much.
I wasn't bored with this book once, but there is a lot of somewhat leisurely give-and-take setup in the early going. Really, having a first half that is no match for the second is about the only quibble I have with The Hunter. This ninth of French's character-driven Irish crime/suspense novels isn't quite her best, but it's right up there. The only reason I'm not giving it five stars (4.5 for sure) is that, hard as it is to believe, I've actually seen French do better....more
What amazing writing there is in this short book of poetry. Searing, heart-stoppingly beautiful, and just wonderfully evocative imagery, page after paWhat amazing writing there is in this short book of poetry. Searing, heart-stoppingly beautiful, and just wonderfully evocative imagery, page after page. True to its title, the dead and the act of dying, and the trials of the living are paired, section by section, to devastating effect in Sharon Olds' sure hands. She's clearly mining family pain (and, rarely, joy) for much of this deeply personal work. With some poets, it's sometimes hard to see what they're going on about if you're not them, but only rarely does Olds take the cryptic approach to beauty or ugliness. I don't read much poetry, to be honest, but the stunning writing offered here is right up my alley. A tendency for sameness in poem length and general writing approach 鈥� and the brevity of the book; it's only 80 pages 鈥� are really the only marks against this gem....more
You have to hand it to Tad Williams for following through on his general approach to The Last King of Osten Ard books, even to the point of surely annYou have to hand it to Tad Williams for following through on his general approach to The Last King of Osten Ard books, even to the point of surely annoying some readers of this concluding volume, The Navigator's Children.
While obviously treading much similar ground, this second series certainly has its differences from the Memory, Sorrow and Thorn trilogy. Here typical high-fantasy action is somewhat de-emphasized, there's a greater emphasis on characters and political intrigue, "villains" and the supposedly "evil race" darkening this world are much more nuanced and understandable, and there's an across-the-board deepening and widening of this world. Williams' taking a far from traditional approach to the series' climax, then, shouldn't be a big surprise, but not everyone will love it.
Me, I'm OK with it,聽even if the book is more interested聽in聽activating those tear聽ducts than elevating the聽pulse rate as the end nears. So an unexpected stroll to the finish line 鈥� the suspense peak coming surprisingly early 鈥� didn't appreciably dent my enjoyment; it just presented a different way to love it. Yes, I did love The Navigator's Children, just as I've loved all of Williams' children (!) in these two series. It wasn't the best book of this second series (that's Empire of Grass) and, ultimately, I'm still giving Memory, Sorrow and Thorn a very slight nod over the succeeding series. The Last King of Osten Ard is tighter, more modern and quick-hitting in presenting shorter chapters and briefer scenes, and ultimately a more consistent and mature beast than the initial series. But damned if that bright blaze of youth in MS&T didn't provide a bigger dose of awesome than we get here.
The Navigator's Children gets off to a wobbly-as-hell start. We have a major shocker tied to Ommu the Whisperer of the Red Hand, a "Wait ... what?!?" moment that Williams glosses over quickly and decides to never really explain in any detail. I certainly still have questions ...
This book also shows periodic signs of being written in a hurry, which it probably was. In addition to DAW's usual shameful storm of typos mucking up the works 鈥� worse than ever, frankly 鈥� Williams is guilty of some inadequate or incomplete description along this 700-page journey. And while his ability to stitch together the long threads of this story while having never planned a sequel in the first place is quite remarkable, at last in this volume there's a bit of fraying. Some of the revelations, though not lame, do make us wonder if the plot could have gone down some surer roads, shall we say. And, my word, there sure are a lot of groups descending on the Narrowdark valley.
Almost a four-star book, this, but there is so much that's wonderful here that I just couldn't take a step down. Williams has dug deep into Osten Ard's聽history and spread its magic far and wide, and if here and there not everything feels streamlined or perfect in its dismount, there's enough richness and beauty, and so much goodwill and love earned by these characters over thousands of pages, that The Navigator's Children and The Last King of Osten Ard stand near the top of the fantasy heap without a doubt.聽Truthfully, I'm a little surprised that, as of this writing, The Navigator's Children seems emphatically readers' favorite of all the Osten Ard books 鈥� I'd put it, at best, fourth of the seven main novels 鈥� but then I'm giving it five stars, too, so what am I complaining about?...more
What's most striking about what Tad Williams has done in following up the Memory, Sorrow and Thorn series with The Last King of Osten Ard is his abiliWhat's most striking about what Tad Williams has done in following up the Memory, Sorrow and Thorn series with The Last King of Osten Ard is his ability to sharpen and deepen aspects of this world that might not have been fully developed in the first series or making them sprout new branches.
That greater depth and broadened scope is especially notable in giving a face and a character to beings whose representatives were few-shades-of-gray evil or solely destructive in the first series. The best parts of this third book deal with the Norns, including continuingly significant point-of-view chapters from Nezeru and her clashing mortal and Norn selves, and full-Norn Viyeki, leader of the Order of Builders, whose conscience and questioning of his typically brutal race's path just might get him killed. And who ever thought, when reading Memory, Sorrow and Thorn, that there would be a sympathetic giant as in Goh Gam Gar?聽
Still, when it comes to Williams' two Osten Ard series, there are degrees of greatness. I think I can call this penultimate novel of The Last King of Osten Ard, Into the Narrowdark, still great but problematic. It's not as good as Empire of Grass, in other words.
Minor and brief bouts of tedium ensue when Williams continues to pursue plot streams that have sort of run dry. The thing is, Williams has 16 or so point-of-view characters but is determined to keep following all (or nearly all) of them. That leads to make-work as he finds ways to occupy some characters for extended periods so they'll fit in the timeline. So here, anything to do with the two sets of trolls is just a lot of wheel-spinning, and some of that accounting for characters' time also leads to contrived situations involving Miriamele and Jesa, both lost in Nabban.
And yet, we've still got nearly five stars (4.5 I'd say; I've got to distinguish the slight variations in quality somehow). Shows how great Williams is. If you want to nitpick about Into the Narrowdark, you can. (While I'm at it, there are entirely too many folks running around Aldheorte Forest!) But it's still an outstanding tale.
[What's not really nitpicking is objecting to the shameful editing of this volume; the number of typos and other errors is insulting to an author of this magnitude and his readers, though not that surprising with publisher Daw, unfortunately. Disgraceful is not too strong a word. The perplexing thing is that Brothers of the Wind, the short book related to this series and that preceded this volume in publication order, was, as near as I could tell, entirely free of errors. Weird. Another Daw oddity is completely changing the cover's style, fonts and artist mid-series. Huh? As I understand it, fantasy cover artist supreme and Williams regular Michael Whelan became too expensive for Daw. But that's not a good reason for totally changing the look.]
Anyway, Into the Narrowdark is indeed awesome in many ways (as opposed to the trolls, anything that involves the Norns is great).
Here we have major characters grieving over reports of dead loved ones; a dark-hearted traitor slowly getting exposed; the Erkynlanders battling both the Norns and the grasslanders; another devious task for Viyeki; a mysterious and dangerous valley that seems to have become the epicenter of Norn and Sithi conflict; and a little girl lost under a fortress (that seems to happen a lot in Osten Ard!).聽
The rare tedium I mentioned happens mostly in the first half of this book. Williams seems incapable of writing a weak second half in any of his novels, fortunately, and another exciting conclusion (and another striking surprise for readers) sets us up for a concluding volume that promises greatness (again)....more
Tad Williams' second companion book to the two proper series in the Osten Ard universe is a welcome addition but not as significant a work as the firsTad Williams' second companion book to the two proper series in the Osten Ard universe is a welcome addition but not as significant a work as the first, The Heart of What Was Lost.
Brothers of the Wind, a prequel set about a thousand years before The Dragonbone Chair and published after the second book in the four-volume Last King of Osten Ard series, provides some backstory on Hakatri and Ineluki (mostly Hakatri), the Sithi siblings whose actions (mostly Ineluki's) helped spark the Storm King's war in initial series Memory, Sorrow and Thorn. Ineluki, of course, was the Storm King, a by-then spirit creature whose rage against mortals fueled the聽fantastical catastrophes of the Norns' war. Brothers of the Wind is a corner-of-the-eye look at the kindling of that rage.
There's a lot of potent history Williams could have tapped in a story about these brothers, then. What we get doesn't have quite the zing we might have expected; Brothers of the Wind is very much a deliberate character study, told by Hakatri's Tinukeda'ya (Changeling) squire/manservant, Pamon Kes. The book deals as much with the Tinukeda'ya's troubled history and relationship with the immortal Sithi as with how the brothers splintered and the genesis of Ineluki's hatred. Ineluki, in fact, isn't on stage all that much. As a slow-boiler about the relationships between races and servants/masters, Brothers of the Wind doesn't have the punch of The Heart of What Was Lost, despite including a hunt for and confrontation with a massive dragon that's causing havoc among mortals. This book is about sacrifice, guilt, love, friendship, vows, suffering (physical and mental), servitude, and deep grudges.
The timing of Brothers of the Wind's publication clearly is deliberate, its leisurely profile of Hakatri coming on the heels of a dynamic scene focusing on him at the end of Empire of Grass.
The two questions uppermost in readers' minds about Brothers of the Wind doubtless are: A) Is it worth reading? and B) When should I read it?
The first answer is yes, with the qualification that its聽narrative is nowhere near as tight as that of The Heart of What Was Lost and that much of the first-person tale opens up to us very slowly. It's also as much a story about its narrator as of the brothers. There is much contemplation and more wandering back and forth across the Osten Ard map. There's enough "frequent rider miles" that they should get a free horse. So don't expect a slam-bang story. The book is slightly disappointing in this respect, though it does pick up some depth and melancholic nuance as it progresses. I'd add that the novelty of a first-person account written by Williams and set in this world lets him stretch some different muscles, an interesting exercise.
The second answer? It depends. I read Brothers of the Wind after Empire of Grass (publication order) and that worked well, but by no means is it a must to follow this timeline. In fact, I can see the argument that squeezing in Brothers interrupts the flow of the tetralogy's聽momentum. Reading it after The Heart of What Was Lost would work perfectly fine, I think (but I wouldn't make this your very first exposure to Osten Ard). For that matter, though Brothers of the Wind does supply a little helpful background to long dead (!) Hakatri's increasing relevance in the sequel quartet, it's nowhere close to as important as The Heart of What Was Lost in this respect, and I don't think reading it at all is a must. Most Williams fans, of course, will read it anyway. I'm glad I did (3.5 stars would nail my feelings better; I might have wanted to love this more than I actually did), but I was also happy to crack open Into the Narrowdark at last....more
Queen of the Norns: Hey, after my yearslong聽coma, I need to get out of the depths of this mountain stronghold for a while and travel a bit; you know, Queen of the Norns: Hey, after my yearslong聽coma, I need to get out of the depths of this mountain stronghold for a while and travel a bit; you know, spread my evil, take part in some unholy ceremonies 鈥� live a little.聽
Us: Holy living crap!!!!
"Such dark old magicks," a character says. "What good can come of any of this?"
It's quite good for readers, thank you very much. So yes, well, the last pages of Empire of Grass are an "Oh yeah?" to my theory that the peaks in earlier series Memory, Sorrow and Thorn are higher than those in these very consistent Last King of Osten Ard books. But then some spurting dragon's blood, a giant, our icy silver-masked queen, and some arcane rites during a raging storm in a crumbling fortress combine to blow my freaking mind.
I'm obsessing about one scene here, but there's plenty to love in the second book of this tetralogy. Despite one plot thread that drags in the early going, we have an improvement on the strong first book. But how does this series stack up to Memory, Sorrow and Thorn? Jury's still out. What is clear is that despite a few fantastical exceptions, Tad Williams' The Last King of Osten Ard clearly is more grounded, more quick-hitting in transitioning from scene to scene, and shows quite an uptick in political intrigue. In a nutshell, it's more modern, I suppose. But it's absolutely clear that the average Memory, Sorrow and Thorn lover is likely to love this series, too, even with its somewhat altered approach.
Williams wisely isn't expanding his character POV list but continuing existing ones here, deepening the story in every conceivable way. Still, the need to account for some characters' time in fitting into the overall scheme does result in some tedium in the early going here, reminiscent of Simon's underground wanderings upping the page count considerably in the original series. Get out of that forest, Morgan! And yes, there are at least 16 point of view characters here, and sometimes Williams' more streamlined approach 鈥� that is, often spending only five or six pages in one place before moving on 鈥� on rare occasions results in too much jerky jumping. But overall the page count per chapter is about half of what it was in the earlier series, which most modern readers probably appreciate.
In Empire of Grass, the Norns' nefarious plot advances; an assassin lurks; we find out what the Norn queen's witchwood obsession is all about; a grassland leader emerges; the political situation in Nabban blows up, with Queen Miriamele at the epicenter; and searching continues for Josua.
One enormous difference from the earlier series is the time spent with Norn characters in The Last King of Osten Ard. The series is very much enriched by probing deeply the point of view of the "enemy." One odd thing, though; with Williams grounding things somewhat and upping the (relative) "realism," sometimes at the expense of typical fantasy elements, he makes the Norns even more overwhelmingly powerful and fearsome than in the earlier series. As a "mortal" myself, I kind of resent how utterly helpless they are in fighting these "bad elves." In one battle, the Norns report killing more than 400 and suffering losses in the teens. Mortals seemed more capable of at least putting up a fight in Memory, Sorrow and Thorn.聽
As in series opener The Witchwood Crown, you start to think in Empire of Grass: "This is good and all, but is it going to get truly awesome?" Never fear; the answer, again, is: "Hell yes!" Williams has this series flowing so well, picking up so naturally from the original, that it's astounding to think that he never intended to write a sequel series in the first place....more
Is The Last King of Osten Ard the Godfather II of fantasy sequels?
This, the first volume of Tad Williams' tetralogy sequel to Memory, Sorrow and ThornIs The Last King of Osten Ard the Godfather II of fantasy sequels?
This, the first volume of Tad Williams' tetralogy sequel to Memory, Sorrow and Thorn, very much upholds the tradition of excellence of the original trilogy, but it's, you know, different. Compared with the MS&T books, The Witchwood Crown is better crafted, deeper, more grounded, casts a wider net in terms of cast; it's also less vivid in the writing and the action, its villains are less spectacular, and it lacks some of the聽wow factor (the horse's head in a bed notion) of experiencing this world for the first time and from the mind of a young writer bursting at the seams with ideas.
In the end, The Witchwood Crown manages to equal the opening volume of the other series through dogged consistency; after all, the first half of The Dragonbone Chair was objectively pretty good but definitely the聽weakest part of the first series.
The Witchwood Crown takes up 30-some years after the events of Memory, Sorrow and Thorn. Um, yeah, about the timeline ... the characters are all pretty vague about how long it's been, other than more than 30 years; Williams seems similarly noncommittal. There may be some holes in this timeline, frankly; my guess is around 37 years to make it all work. Anyway, young stars of the opening series Simon and Miriamele are now 50-something (??) joint monarchs of Erkynland and Osten Ard and caretakers to an irresponsible scamp of a grandson, but it seems those pesky bad-elf types, the Norns, have staged a comeback by going all-out in breeding with mortals, the "be fruitful and multiply" thing never something at which the immortals themselves had heretofore been much good.聽(I imagine some pasty-faced, cat-eyed Al Swearengen from Deadwood type saying: "Get fucking!")
This gambit to stock the Norn forces for another takeover attempt of Osten Ard was set up in The Heart of What Was Lost, the post Memory, Sorrow and Thorn novella in which Williams turned back to the series after about 24 years. If you're tempted to skip The Heart of What Was Lost for the meatier new sequel series, I'd think again. Not only is the novella quite good, but it's a perfect bridge that introduces some characters who would be on board for The Last King of Osten Ard, establishes Williams' leaner writing style, and showcases the deeper dive and wider net being used, approaches exemplified by having Norns as point-of-view characters.
Carrying on from that, The Witchwood Crown represents a more layered approach from the first series, with political machinations and the relations among nation-states much more prominent. If you've read Williams, you already know he's a detailed writer, but brace yourself for a massive amount of scene-setting in The Witchwood Crown. Fortunately, it's brilliant background work that pays dividends eventually, whatever you might think at the halfway point; the book gets better and better as these many branches of story 鈥� be prepared for more threads and POVs than in the other series' opener 鈥� take on more weight.
The gusto and sparkle of MS&T's mountain-high spikes of awesome adventure see some leveling out here, but The Witchwood Crown is never boring 鈥� and there definitely are some stellar moments in the last 60 pages or so. And while Williams isn't lowering the overall word count, the chapters on average are a good five pages shorter, and he's cut down on descriptive detail considerably in favor of better pacing. (I sometimes miss Williams' vivid imagery, though). Along the way, we have the funniest line of the entire series so far, and uttered by a giant, no less 鈥� yes, giants who speak and "humanized" Norns contribute to an earthier, more relatable (relatively) work.
(As a side note, I'd love to tell you that the typos that typically dot books published by DAW magically aren't here, that better quality control is in the offing in this major, hugely anticipated work. Not the case, though. And then there's the character who is stabbed with a sword through the chest, falls face-first, but manages to have his "sightless eyes staring up into the night.")
Still, The Witchwood Crown is a real winner packed with loads of fascinating new characters in addition to returnees from Memory, Sorrow and Thorn, some of whom become major characters from tiny seeds sown there 鈥� anybody see Pasevalles coming? Much of The Last King of Osten Ard, in fact, builds on what came before. Though Williams states in an author's note that you don't need to read the earlier series to enjoy this one, he's being pretty optimistic there. If you don't hear the echoes of the past here, you're missing a lot of information. Besides that, Memory, Sorrow and Thorn might be the best fantasy series ever written. So just read it. Then read this....more
For his long-awaited return to the world of Osten Ard, Tad Williams goes small 鈥� relatively speaking 鈥� after the biggest of concluding volumes to the For his long-awaited return to the world of Osten Ard, Tad Williams goes small 鈥� relatively speaking 鈥� after the biggest of concluding volumes to the Memory, Sorrow and Thorn trilogy 24 years earlier.
The novella The Heart of What Was Lost is directly linked to To Green Angel Tower in that it chronicles the pursuit of the defeated near-immortal Norns to their northern stronghold, a coda to the original trilogy but also a set-up for the full-blown return to Williams' most-beloved fantasy world in The Last King of Osten Ard trilogy. Reading this right after Memory, Sorrow and Thorn shows how much Williams has grown as a writer in the interim.聽The Heart of What Was Lost is a lean and sharp 197 pages of main text in the trade paperback edition, Williams clearly having no intention of letting this one get away from him (Memory Sorrow and Thorn was enormous, but then that was just more of it to love).
Here Williams is most interested in probing characters on both sides but, especially, getting into the heads of the mysterious Norns, shown to us in the trilogy primarily as fearsome enemies, the vengeful Norn queen Utuk'ku the only character among them we got to know.
The Heart of What Was Lost has its exciting moments as the Rimmersmen, led by Duke Isgrimnur 鈥� who we came to know in MS&T 鈥� pursue the Norns, do battle at a ruined fortress, then follow the escaping "White Foxes" to the gates of the mountain fastness, Nakkiga, where they lay siege. But Williams particularly wants to "humanize" the Norns and allow us to understand the motives and machinations of these splintered cousins to the more human-friendly Sithi. An imposing, ambitious female Norn general named Suno'ku makes a particular splash: "I will go to the gates, then before the mortal chieftain speaks a word I will pull out his heart with my bare hand and show it to him. Let his liegemen kill me then. It will not matter." Yikes!
A pair of new human characters emerge among the pursuing mortals, and Williams deftly and economically sketches these sometimes intimidated "conquerors."
This novella could have been a mere tease, a quick excuse to link the two massive trilogies. It's much more than that: a well-plotted, nuanced, occasionally exciting book that works on its own but also deepens what came before. It's a mature, thoughtful work that doesn't have the brash grandeur of the Memory, Sorrow and Thorn books, but still is really, really fine stuff. I'd recommend diving right into it after reading the first trilogy....more
Things are certainly ratcheting up in To Green Angel Tower: "We harness the great fear. In every land, brother is turned against brother. Plague and fThings are certainly ratcheting up in To Green Angel Tower: "We harness the great fear. In every land, brother is turned against brother. Plague and famine and the scourge of war turn men into raging demons."
Yikes! This message brought to you not by the Osten Ard Chamber of Commerce, but by a vile priest/sorcerer who isn't even the most powerful bad guy (or gal) populating the world of Memory Sorrow and Thorn, whose third volume, To Green Angel Tower, is such a whopper a single mass market paperback couldn't contain it.
Big, bursting, and possibly for the first time containing some real bloat, the third volume of Tad Williams' first trilogy is, in the end, utterly brilliant in its hugeness.
It occurred to me that this might be the best fantasy series ever written. Should I really be feeling these sorts of revelations in this, my third reading? Tackling the massive (more than 1,000 pages in trade paperback) concluding book in the trilogy, I've flipped my thinking about which is the best book in the series (it's this baby, not middle volume Stone of Farewell as I had always felt), and somewhat surprisingly, enjoyed this reading of the series most of all.
The construction of this series, the cast of characters and their perfect jigsaw-puzzle fit in the whole, the genius of all this that on the surface seems not that original at all but wriggles into new shapes right in your hand, really hits you when you step back to appreciate it. Williams' deft touch with minor characters pays off time and time again. Many folks who seem disagreeable or a bit villainous initially, such as Rachel the Dragon and Guthwulf and the self-loathing monk Cadrach, find redemption or play key roles. The familiar twisted in new ways, a remarkably layered story overall, very good writing 鈥� there are so many riches here in this series that served as the perfect link between traditional and modern, more brutal, fantasy.
The first half of this book has enough that just kicks ass, in an action sense, that it's easy to overlook the subtle shades of emotion that fill in every between-battle crack, that give meaning to the suffering and humanity to the striving.
"And to what purpose?" a character thinks during a battle. "Less than a man's lifetime has passed and here we are again, making more feasts for the vultures. Over and over and over. I am sick with it."
So many clever, meaningful interludes like this in a narrative that is unashamedly a slow burn. By this time, you know this world is rich and that Williams wants to feed you every last spoonful of it. This approach eventually does result in the low point of the series, contained in the book's second half (or To Green Angel Tower Part II in the mass market paperback). Yes, Simon does wander in tunnels (again) for an incredible length of time (and page count) here, during which Williams' writing becomes pedestrian, as if even he can't wait for the sparkling climax. Williams could have hit delete on a lot of this, but that journey does take us, in time, to a remarkable place and a wonderfully written conclusion that's satisfying in just about every way.
I think only early readings of The Lord of the Rings have filled me with this much awe, wonder, love, and sadness. And I was a much younger man then; I'm glad I can still feel all that....more
Even though there are plenty of people who think this series is great 鈥� me included 鈥� I'd still consider Memory, Sorrow and Thorn hugely underrated. TEven though there are plenty of people who think this series is great 鈥� me included 鈥� I'd still consider Memory, Sorrow and Thorn hugely underrated. That this was Tad Williams' first series and Stone of Farewell just his third book overall is astonishing.
Anyway, I'm updating here on my third read in preparation for the nearing (at this date in fall 2024) completion of Williams' second Osten Ard series. Can't wait to start that quartet!
Williams is a detailed writer who does not hop quickly from scene to scene or get bogged down in the sludge of forced stretching. That is to say, be prepared for a deep, immersive dive, but you'll love it if you're up for it 鈥� Williams is an excellent writer but also very readable; he's not into confusing you, but he wants you invested. You will be. In Stone of Farewell, he continues the excellence that marked the second half of opening book The Dragonbone Chair (whose first half, admittedly, is pretty good but certainly inferior to everything that follows).
What's amazing about this series is that, while there are more than a half-dozen main plot threads featuring people/creatures spread over a wide geographic area, almost never will you be wishing Williams would get on with it and move to a group of characters you're more interested in. Every scene seems the proper length; every chapter contributes something.
This world is a marvelous creation, built on traditional fantasy but nicely twisted to its own ends. In Stone of Farewell, Williams adds to the creature and mysterious races count, taking us beneath the earth and on the sea to reveal previously unencountered wonders. The nasty, hairless priest/sorcerer Pryrates sows his seeds of evil, his machinations most frighteningly manifested in a supernatural attack on a holy man (a spectacular scene). Meanwhile, as an unnatural winter descends in the midst of summer, a young witch who seems to have the Storm King minions of the insidious Red Hand on "speed dial" prepares Simon, the troll Binabik and their company for sacrifice; giants are up to mischief; our scattered heroes become even more separated; pasty, deadly Norns stalk Prince Josua with mysterious intent and Josua comes to find his possible future father in law doesn't quite take to him; and princess Miriamele journeys with an often-drunk monk (Drunk Monk! Good band name!).
There's a spectacular combo attack at the conclusion that will, like The Dragonbone Chair's climax, knock your socks off. Yes, Williams has a flair for slam-bang endings.
All the while the story and its many threads move forward, setting us up for the colossal final volume that was so big it had to be broken into two books for the mass market paperback (so ... trilogy yes and no). Suffice it to say that Stone of Farewell is miles away from suffering the ol' middle volume syndrome.
Yes, if you're a fan of high fantasy at all, you really need to read Memory, Sorrow and Thorn....more
Halfway through my third reading of The Dragonbone Chair, I was bracing myself to drop its rating from the previous five stars to four, both to distinHalfway through my third reading of The Dragonbone Chair, I was bracing myself to drop its rating from the previous five stars to four, both to distinguish it as clearly the lesser of the three Memory, Sorrow and Thorn books and for that first half that definitely wobbles 鈥� I mean, young hero Simon has so many fortuitous (plot-wise) encounters and happens to overhear so much information in his castle wanderings that even the most forgiving reader will give the eyes a good roll. Couldn't do it, though; my goodness, those last 300 pages are masterful!
Yes, when people give up on the Memory, Sorrow and Thorn series because the first half of Vol. 1 is supposedly "too slow" or the trope of a simple boy growing into the swirl of dark forces seems too familiar, I liken it to folks who bail from a game when their team's behind early and I have to tell them later, "You missed one of the best games ever played, dude."
On this third read in 2024 (readying for the fourth and final volume of the following Last King of Osten Ard series!), I'd again stress: Don't confuse "slow" with "boring." Tad Williams lovingly lays groundwork in the first volume of his fantasy masterpiece, and that brick-by-brick road takes you a long way. The first half is mostly about castle boy Simon and how he gets entwined in the tragic split of two royal brothers, one of whom enlists sorcerous help from some seriously bad folk in his quest for power.
What seems simple, another innocent abroad in a fantasy kingdom, and narrowly focused branches out considerably after the Dragonbone Chair equivalent of The Council of Elrond about 65 percent of the way in. You know, where the swirl of the dark forces at work and the raveled plot strands are made known in a gathering of the previously far-flung, and the whole world opens up with its many threads. Wow, we've got a layered story here.
I was particularly struck in this third go-round by how expertly Williams handles the subplots and secondary characters. New people are introduced in faraway lands with barely a hint of confusion or itching to get back to the "central" story. It all works, and the characters are nuanced and contribute to the story in interesting ways.
A Tolkien comparison is apt, but only in a very general way. Williams' trilogy, praised as highly influential (George R.R. Martin cites it as an inspiration for A Song of Ice and Fire, for one of many), often seems to follow a familiar path but takes turns both unexpected and dark. It's not quite what it seems, and as a bridge between the black & white, "friendlier" Tolkienesque fantasies of days gone by and the far more brutal fare of many more recent fantasies, Memory, Sorrow and Thorn might not seem as fresh as it once did, but it's every bit as good as you thought.
Here you'll find elflike folk who are more difficult and brooding than you'd expect, as well as their quite nasty brethren who splintered off. Bad things crawling in the earth and the ice. A quest for swords of power. But most of all, intriguing people.
It's quite true that the first half of The Dragonbone Chair isn't as nearly great as what follows, but it is still good, and as a lead-in to a truly spectacular finish to the opening book, you'll be glad you stuck with it. The entire series runs deep and deliberate, a wide, slow, strong river. No instant gratification here; sorry. If you're like me, you'll get there, you'll love the journey, even if you arrive a little late.
But, love. This isn't one of those fantasy series about which you'll complain, "I didn't care about any of these people." You'll care. There's good and bad, but also many people who grow and change in this cast, many shades of gray. Yeah, I really loved these books when I first read them in the early 2000s. Happily, I love them now, too, still-lingering string of typos (in the recent trade paperback re-release) and all....more
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