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** spoiler alert ** Sometimes, it reaches that point in your life when it's no longer necessary to hope for mankind. Once I had finished reading this, that very fate dawned upon me.

I felt that everything good about the Lord of the Rings and Star Wars had been crushed, then cast into the void of despair and rebuilt in some crooked manner by which pride had melted into nothing.

At first, I came across a relatively tough writing style, that, throughout my immature 14 year-old age, appeared to be some masterpiece, wondrous incantation that enchanted my lips, but it was nothing more than a curse. I found myself lost in the seas of purple prose, poorly defined characters, cheap fantasy rip-offs and the world of black and white; no enemies are explored and all we can find is the same wreckage of civilisation--Eragon, the petty farmboy orphan who lives with his uncle (later killed by the empire while with an old, wise man--sound familiar?) becomes the greatest saviour of mankind and all that trash. He believes that the world is black and white, and that evil defines good.

Not only are we, the humble readers, subjected to the ego of a wannabe novelist but it's only a little later that we catch a glimpse of the little understanding Paolini has about anything. He believes that empires are ruled by kings, and that those very kings do nothing all day and yet can still control his dominion.

I find the plagiarism unbelievable--beyond a joke. Elves came from the sea, they must one day return, they are good with magic, they are tall with pointy ears. I mean, it's bad enough that there are even elves in there, but come on! Dragonriders of Pern says the rest. And the Star Wars plot = Eragon's.

I have built up the key dexterity to rant for far longer than necessary, so let me conclude my review. Essentially, this is appalling, written in an horrific way thanks to rich Mummy and Daddy. No wonder it was self-published.