Jack Vance

Newton's Second Law of Thermodynamics states that in a closed, isolated system temperature, pressure, and chemical potential will eventually achieve equilibrium. All of the energy tends to even out throughout the system. Sometimes, this is referred to as entropy. When we think of entropy, we usually imagine loss of energy, not necessarily energy equalization. But something is lost when energy is equilibrated. What's lost is vitality, motion. The imbalance of energy permits action, transfer and conversion of energy convey motion and collision. When elements within a system bleed energy off to form that equilibrium, those elements seem to die.

It is this sort of energy death that Jack Vance explores in The Dying Earth. I recently reread my 1960s Lancer SF Library edition of this seminal work of its eponymous genre during school vacation. It's not very long, only 160 pages. Within are six stories set on an unnamed continent in a far, far distant future when the sun has grown dim and the inhabitants of the weary Earth imagine that it will one day gutter and flicker out like an exhausted flame.
Through these tales, Vance explores the theme of innocence--an ironic topic considering the setting is a far distant future where everything is slowly dying. However, through her old age, the Earth has regained a shred of her own innocence, as magic and myth have resurfaced, albeit mixed with science and technology. Vance's language invokes that same sense of the legendary and mythopoeic that Tolkien, Dunsany, and Howard possessed, although instead of dwelling in some mythic past when the world was young, he places his era of legend in a dreamlike future full of nostalgia and misty exoticism.

It was night in white-walled Kaiin, and festival time. Orange lanterns floated in the air, moving as the breeze took them. From the balconies dangled flower chains and cages of blue fireflies. The streets surged with the wine-flushed populace, costumed in a multitude of bizarre modes. Here was a Melantine bargeman, here a warrior of Valdaran's Green Legion, here another of ancient times wearing one of the old helmets. In a little cleared space a garlanded courtesan of the Kauchique littoral danced the Dance of the Fourteen Silken Movements to the music of flutes. In the shadow of a balcony a girl barbarian of East Almery embraced a man blackened and in leather harness as a Deodand of the forest. They were gay, these people of waning Earth, feverishly merry, for infinite night was close at hand, when the red sun should finally flicker and go black.

Countries have strange names, such as Kauchique, the Cape of Sad Remembrance, and the Land of the Falling Wall. We read of "orange-haired witches of the Cobalt Mountain; forest sorcerers of Ascolais, white-bearded wizards of the Forlorn Land," and silk-clad princes of "Cansaspara, the city of fallen pylons across the Melantine Gulf." Vance's prose infuses his perpetually twilit world with a sense of storied history.

The ground rose, the trees thinned, and T'sais came out on an illimitable dark expanse. This was Modavna Moor, a place of history, a tract which had borne the tread of many feet and absorbed much blood. At one famous slaughtering, Golickan Kodek the Conqueror had herded here the populations of two great cities, G'Vasan and Bautiku, constricted them in a circle three miles across, gradually pushed them tighter, tighter, tighter, panicked them toward the center within his flapping-armed subhuman cavalry, until at last he had achieved a gigantic squirming mound, half a thousand feet high, a pyramid of screaming flesh. It is said that Golickan Kodek mused ten minutes at his monument, then turned and rode his bounding mount back to the land of Laidenur from whence he had come.

We may only spend a few pages on the Modavna Moor, but that brief description of Golickan Kodek's ride from Laidenur gives the location weight and feeling, and makes it seem a real and actual place. Though Prince Datul Omaet is only mentioned in passing, the fact that he exists, is a sorcerer, and comes from a city of "fallen pylons" from across a sea makes Vance's world just a little bit richer and more fascinating. Vance doesn't flesh everything out with the thoroughness of a Tolkien, but rather keeps his world open and unmapped like Robert E. Howard or Clark Ashton Smith, enabling him to broaden and expand it at will.
Though the setting has great potential for nihilistic pessimism, Vance avoids that. In a sense, the decay and imminent death of the Earth is an opportunity to rediscover a romanticism. Though the Earth cannot be saved from its ultimate fate, maybe it could be spiritually redeemed through heroism, sacrifice, bravery, and intelligence. Indeed, there's a great strain of optimism that runs through the entirety of The Dying Earth and defies the sun's exhaustion. The mythic lyricism of Vance's prose is very much a return to an older form, and though he's not the master that Dunsany or Tolkien would be, he does a decent job of it nonetheless.

"Far in the past, far beyond thought, so the legend runs, a race of just people lived in a land east of the Maurenron Mountains, past the Land of the Falling Wall, by the shores of a great sea. They built a city of spires and low glass domes, and dwelt in great content. These people had no god, and presently they felt the need of one whom they might worship. So they built a lustrous temple of gold, glass, and granite, wide as the Scaum River where it flows through the Valley of Graven Tombs, as long again and higher than the trees of the north. And this race of honest men assembled in the temple, and all flung a mighty prayer, a worshipful invocation, and, so legend has it, a god molded by the will of this people was brought into being, and he was of their attributes, a divinity of utter justice.
"The city at last crumbled, the temple became shards and splinters, the people vanished. But the god still remains, rooted forever to the place where his people worshiped him."

Magic plays an enormous part of the setting--both in its romantic nostalgia and in its entropic decay.

At one time a thousand or more runes, spells, incantations, curses, and sorceries had been known. The reach of Grand Motholam--Ascolais, the Ide of Kauchique, Almery to the South, the Land of the Falling Wall to the East--swarmed with sorcerers of every description, of whom the chief was the Arch-Necromancer Phandaal. A hundred spells Phandaal personally had formulated--though rumor said that demons whispered at his ear when he wrought magic. Ponticella the Pious, then ruler of Grand Motholam, put Phandaal to torment, and after a terrible night, he killed Phandaal and outlawed sorcery throughout the land. The wizards of Grand Motholam fled like beetles under a strong light; the lore was dispersed, and forgotten, until now, at this dim time, with the sun dark, wilderness obscuring Ascolais, and the white city of Kaiin half in ruins, only a few more than a hundred spells remained to the knowledge of man.

The spells are described as "so cogent" that characters can only fit a limited number of them into their brains at any given time. Upon casting of these spells, the release of magical energy wipes the formulas from the sorcerers' minds. This is exactly what role-playing-gamers describe when discussing "Vancian magic" in games like Dungeons & Dragons. Indeed, E. Gary Gygax and David Arneson were directly influenced by Jack Vance's setting when they were designing D&D, and elected to try to capture the feel of Vance's magical system in their game. This is obviously how Vance's The Dying Earth found its way into Gygax's heavily influential Appendix N.

This interesting mixture of innocence and romanticism amidst decay and entropy is combined with another major theme that runs through his books--justice and redemption. Characters either surrender to their base desires and lusts for power, or they can achieve a sort of moral epiphany and seek to do right. Such characters as T'sais, Turjan of Miir, Etarr, through love, sacrifice, bravery, and loss manage to achieve redemption and have their courage recognized. Other characters, like Liane the Wayfarer and Mazirian, get a satisfying comeuppance. Though Vance's world is dominated by decadence and dark forces, the just, good, and brave can definitely make a positive difference in the world, and Vance's stories are of those exceptional people who manage to overcome obstacles both internal and external.

One may say that all of these good deeds are for naught, since the sun is fading and eternal night is immanent, but the tenor and texture of the narratives do not suggest that this was Vance's aim. Rather, the author seems to feel that his protagonists really do matter and that their actions truly have a positive impact in spite of the looming heat-death of the world. Though cities crumble to dust and the sun continues to fade, magic and wonder still persists, and the world can still be enchanted, right up to the very end. (The Caffeinated Symposium)

Unlike The Dying Earth, The Eyes of the Overworld is not a collection of short stories but a full-length novel. Here we have the character Cugel, who is likeable enough throughout most of the story, though I did find some of his qualities unsavory if not reprehensible at times. Still, he is our hero, so to speak, and it is his adventures we follow as the story progresses.

We begin with Cugel trying to sell some goods. Things are not going well, though, and at the urging of a fellow merchant, Cugel gets it in his head to go steal from Iucounu the Laughing Magician if only to acquire some magical items which he can then sell for profit. Cugel is caught in the act and, as penance, the Laughing Magician sends Cugel on a quest halfway round the world to bring back a favored item. Keeping Cugel in line is a parasite called Firx, who wraps himself about Cugel's liver and promises certain death if Cugel strays from his appointed task. Thus begins a series of odd and sometimes death-harrowing adventures as Cugel attempts to locate the wizard's prized item and return home, all the while keeping Firx content that he is in fact doing all he can to fulfill said quest.

Trouble arises when Cugel sees an opportunity for personal gain, which is at almost every turn, for Cugel is concerned with himself above all other things. He steals, he cheats, he lies, he even rapes a woman at one point in the story (though, to be fair, they are married and she does agree, but only after Cugel's extreme urging). Still, Cugel is likeable if only because nothing ever seems to go his way. He's the quintessential down-on-his-luck character who, after being beaten down so many times, we just want to see succeed even just once.

The Eyes of the Overworld is, of course, set in Vance's Dying Earth world, so far in our future that the Sun is nearing the end of its life and technology is so advanced (and its operation forgotten, in most cases) that it is more magic than science. Those who do know its operation are few and far between, and are actually called sorcerers and wizards rather than technologists, engineers, or scientists.

Vance's writing style is from another era; the book was originally published in 1966. The matter-of-fact narration is easy to follow, though, and the adventures Cugel finds himself on are engaging. (Out Of This World Reviews)

Picaresque adventure-comedy and scathing wit in the inimitable Vance manner: a fantasy sequel to The Eyes of the Overworld (1966)--which itself shared the setting of The Dying Earth (1950). Cugel the Clever has again been dumped half a world away from home by the vindictive Iucounu the Laughing Magician. To gain revenge, Cugel must travel through a far-future world lit by a guttering old red sun: this bleak, antique landscape is populated by weird creatures and an array of larger-than-life human eccentrics, rogues, fanatics, and tricksters--among whom the charming, rascally Cugel is perfectly at home. Frequently hilarious, often self-induced difficulties ensue: Cugel is obliged to dive in a pond of slime for the talisman Scatterlight; he acquires a magical boot-ointment that confers weightlessness on objects kicked with the boots; he floats across a wasteland in a stolen ship occupied by a monster; and finally, aided by a trainer of singing fish whose four wizardly fathers have one set of human body-parts among them, Cugel confronts the madly rapacious Iucounu in his manse. Though somewhat more expansive and languid than the earlier classic, as if part of Vance's attention remains in Lyonesse: a sparkling performance that no fantasy fan will want to miss. (Kirkus Review)

Rhialto the Marvellous closes the initial collection of Dying Earth stories, as chronicled by Jack Vance, a master of invention who took me on an incredible journey through eons of history, hundreds of lost civilizations and quirky cultures, multicolored vistas of exotic lands, weird trees and chimaeric wildlife, magic invocations and last, but not least : deeds of daring, craft and cunning to tax credibility . Even if none of the later books quite recaptured the lyrical, melancholic atmosphere of the first one, prefering instead a more humorous, adventure oriented approach, the series kept me glued to the pages until the very last morsel. And then I wished I could spend more time in the company of the characteristic amoral, arrogant, opportunistic and unreliable scoundrels that usually lead the way around the Dying Earth landscape. 

Rhialto is not a simple reincarnation of Cugel the Clever: he is a fussy dresser and a cad where women are concerned, but as a wizard he is quite proficient in the art, and as a trickster he is less easily fooled by other magicians, demons or villagers he meets on his quests. Both heroes have supersized egos, but where Cugel ended mostly on the losing side in every intellectual endeavour and got by only through brawns and a lot of luck, Rhialto is deviously planning ahead and outsmarting his adversaries in a Sherlock Holmes manner. It took a good portion of the book to get me interested in Rhialto, and finally it was his sarcastic wit and elaborate form of polite expression that conquered me:

Always disposed to create a favorable impression before members of the female sex, so long as they were of an age and degree of vitality to notice, Rhialto leaned an arm against a stump, disposed his cloak so that it hung in a casual yet dramatic style.

The girls, preoccupied with their chatter, failed to notice his presence. Rhialto spoke in melodious tones: "Young creatures, allow me to intrude upon your attention, at least for a moment. I am surprised to find so much fresh young beauty wasted upon work so dull, and among brambles so sharp."

I have already accepted the fact that the series abandoned almost all the science-fiction elements after the first book and developed as a magic intensive sword & sorcery adventure. If Cugel was more adept with a sword that with a spell, Rhialto relies very little on physical exertions and deploys almost exclusively his magic-fu. The magic theory of the Dying Earth is succintly presented in the introduction of the novel ( Magic is a practical science, or, more properly, a craft, since emphasis is placed primarily upon utility, rather than basic understanding.), with a few choice examples of spells that had me chuckling in anticipation of seeing them deployed later in the book:

Looking into (for instance) Chapter Four of Killiclaw's Primer of Practical Magic, Interpersonal Effectuations, one notices, indited in bright purple ink, such terminology as:
Xarfaggio's Physical Malepsy
Arnhoult's Sequestrious Digitalia
Lutar Brassnose's Twelve-fold Bounty
The Spell of Forlorn Encystment
Tinkler's Old-fashioned Froust
Clambard's Rein of Long Nerves
The Green and Purple Postponement of Joy
Panguire's Triumphs of Discomfort
Lugwiler's Dismal Itch
Khulip's Nasal Enhancement
Radl's Pervasion of the Incorrect Chord.

Actually, very few on the list made it into the proper adventure, but it was fun to imagine them in action. The one spell that is put to repeated use is one that I believe every one of us imagined at one point in his life being in control of: the power to stop time for everybody else, and move freely about the frozen population. Here it is used primarily for mischief or for getting the heor out of tight corners.

Coming back to the book, there are only three novellas in it, but the middle one is quite extensive, and I didn't feel shortchanged in any way by the limitation. Having the same set of protagonists (a conclave of wizards that are constantly quarelling among themselves, reminding me fondly of the masters of the Unseen University on Discworld) in all three parts of the book helps with the continuity and with the character development.

"The Murthe" is a hilarious farce about the wizards phobia towards womenfolk. Their 'boys only' club falls prey to a spectre from a terrible past, when women had ascendancy:

The Murthe is at large among you, with squalms and ensqualmations.

The series had its less savoury moments, especially when Cugel was involved, with women treated as sex objects and as fickle creatures. The panic of the wizards as they contemplate serving under women is a refreshing reversal, and their bafflement regarding their true nature is illustrated in the following extract:

Calanctus likens a woman to the Ciaeic Ocean which absorbs the long and full thrust of the Antipodal Current as it sweeps around Cape Spang, but only while the weather holds fair. If the wind shifts but a trifle, this apparently placid ocean hurls an abrupt flood ten or even twenty feet high back around the cape, engulfing all before it. When stasis is restored and the pressure relieved, the Ciaeic is as before, placidly accepting the current. Do you concur with this interpretation of the female geist?

"Fader's Waft" follows the quest of Rhialto to recover the Blue Perciplex: a precious prism containing the rule of law governing the Wizard Conclave. The prism is hidden in the past, and Rhialto must time-travel back accompanied by a couple of recalcitrant indentured demons. He meets twenty footed blue aliens from Canopus, witnesses epic battles between long lost empires, damzells in distress, venal construction workers, villagers with peculiar eating habits:

Must your disgust be so blatant? True: we are anthropophages. True: we put strangers to succulent use. Is this truly good cause for hostility? The world is as it is and each of us must hope in some fashion to be of service to his fellows, even if only in the form of a soup. 

The humour mixed with the rich history of the past/future Earth and with the flowery prose made for a very pleasant pastime indeed, and too quick I arrived at the last story:

"Morreion" has the wizards travelling in a floating palace to the edge of the Universe searching for 'nothing' (aka : the nonregion beyond the end of the cosmos). There they hope to rescue one of their colleagues who left ages ago in search of precious, magic infused IOUN stones (and relieve him of this treasure, if possible). Some of the passages describing the journey came very close to the marvellous prose that first attracted me to Jack Vance:

Through clouds and constellations they moved, past bursting galaxies and meandering star-streams; through a region where the stars showed a peculiar soft violet and hung in clouds of pale green gas; across a desolation where nothing whatever was seen save a few far luminous clouds. 

Then presently they came to a new region, where blazing white giants seemed to control whirlpools of pink, blue and white gas, and the magicians lined the balustrade looking out at the spectacle. 

But every ship or floating castle eventually reaches harbour and the weary traveller must disembark, wave goodbye to his companions and go his own way. Morreion, the lost wizard, remarks at one time to his colleagues:

Before you came my life was placid; you have brought me doubt and wonder.

The same applies to me, and I know I will come back to sail once more with Jack Vance on the boundless oceans of his imagination.  (Algernon, GoodReads)

The definition of High Fantasy is not something I'd considered until recently, beyond a vague feeling that it had something to do with princesses and wizards. Apparently the "height" of fantasy depends on how much magic is involved - low fantasy would just be, for example, a straightforward tale of military or political tactics with a quasi-mediaeval setting. The Lyonesse trilogy has been billed as Vance's "high fantasy masterpiece"; alongside the blurb's promises of wizardly rivalries, tragic princesses and the machinations of power-hungry rulers, that creates quite a daunting prospect. But, as ever, Vance's blurb-writers have done him a disservice. This is no worthy tome of ponderous prophecies and humourless heroes; it's a gleefully irreverent epic fairytale, replete with dashing rogues, dastardly ogres and all the trimmings.

"Bah!" muttered Casmir, already bored with the subject. "Your conduct is in clear need of correction. You must throw no more fruit!"
Madouc scowled and shrugged. "Fruit is nicer than other stuffs. I well believe that Lady Desdea would prefer fruit."
"Throw no other stuffs either. A royal princess expresses displeasure more graciously."
Madouc considered a moment. "What if these stuffs should fall of their own weight?"
"You must allow no substances, either vile, or hurtful, or noxious, or of any sort whatever, to fall, or depart from your control, toward Lady Desdea, Dame Boudetta, Lady Marmone, or anyone else. In short, desist from these activities!"
Madouc pursed her mouth in dissatisfaction; it seemed as if King Casmir would yield neither to logic nor persuasion. Madouc wasted no more words. "Just so, Your Majesty."

If Jane Austen ever wrote fairy tales, they'd probably look like this. Kings trade mortal insults with courtly decorum, wayfarers banter with dishonest innkeepers, and supernatural bargains are conducted with scrupulous care over the phrasing. However, there's more than a dash of Vance's dark mischief here too, and alongside the sly banter the details are often dark and gruesome. Captured enemies are casually disembowelled and hung up for display; minor characters suffer various unpleasant deaths at the hands of trolls or other monsters, and others simply pass away unremarked from pneumonia, dropsy or one of the many other hazards of mediaeval life. This is no sanitised Merrie Englande representation of the time - apart from all the magic, you get the feeling that the Dark Ages really looked like this.

There is certainly magic a-plenty here, more than enough to justify the High Fantasy tag, but it's treated in a very commonplace way and hardly affects the plot at all. The main story is in fact a very low-fantasy tale of rival kings plotting to conquer the whole of the Elder Isles, currently divided into several kingdoms; this is largely achieved via the normal means of disputed successions, diplomatic manipulation and outright war.

The first book takes a little while to get going. The opening chapters about Suldrun and her garden are quite slow and mostly serve for background - the real story is elsewhere, as her father King Casmir makes his coldly ambitious plans to unite the isles under his rule. However, once we meet her secret lover Aillas, the story takes off and becomes a lot more interesting. His quest to find their son Dhrun, and Dhrun's own search for his parentage, take up most of the rest of the book, and take in many of the tropes of fairytale quests. A witch with a fox's face and a chicken's feet guards the ford; an amulet protects Dhrun from fear; Aillas is given a walnut shell which always points towards his son. With a style that cleverly implies a patchwork of collated oral tales, full of footnotes, inconsistencies and snippets of history from repeated retelling, it feels like the view of a fairytale from the inside.

The second book is much more focused on the politics, as Aillas struggles to tame his growing empire and defy Casmir's machinations. The pace is much faster and more satisfying, despite a strange interlude towards the end where a couple of characters are transported to a parallel world for a few chapters. Book three returns to the fairytale style, and mostly follows Princess Madouc, a fairy changeling who was swapped for Dhrun at birth but who most believe to be Casmir's granddaughter. This is probably the frothiest and least dark of the books, but it still has its share of casual violence and tragedy.

While magic rarely has any major effect on the main political story, there is a side-plot that reeks with it. Master magician Murgen, with his one-time apprentice and scion Shimrod, are trying to thwart the wiles of the sorcerer Tamurello; unfortunately, they don't know what those wiles are, but they probably have something to do with the deceased witch Desmei and her beautiful creation Melancthe. This plot is less successful than the non-magical one; it doesn't get a lot of screen-time, and while Shimrod's efforts to romance Melancthe are entertaining, Melancthe herself is a very empty character. Deliberately so, maybe, but she's still pretty boring to read about.

Lyonesse is an absolute classic of Vance's work. The dialogue is pointed and witty, the worldbuilding is superb and the descriptions are lavish - the banquets of mediaeval fare are almost enough to make your mouth water. It may not be perfect, but it's a fantastic read that conjures up a real sense of the exotic, with more than a few laughs along the way. This is one of my favourite series to reread and I can't recommend it highly enough. (Sandstorm Reviews)

Songs of the Dying Earth  is easily the best anthology I've ever read and I'm not even done yet. That's how excited I am about this anthology - I'm posting this review at a little over the halfway point (although I usually do like to post anthology reviews in parts anyway to make sure I don't forget earlier stories). 

I almost decided to wait until I read Vance's original work before starting Songs, but I decided I wanted to give a clear perspective from someone who's not already a fan. I'm so glad I haven't waited.

"The True Vintage of Erzuine Thale" by Robert Silverberg (5/5) - A character who reminded me a lot of Kruppe from the Malazan Book of the Fallen owns a rare wine that is being saved for a very special occasion. Today might be that day, but not for the original reasons. Silverberg starts this anthology off with a bang. What a great story that also introduces some of the surprises this world holds.

"Grolion of Almery" by Matthew Hughes (5/5) - I thought this was even better than the first story even though both were amazing. This story broadens the implications of the world of the Dying Earth and I've become that much more addicted to it. An unwary traveller is trapped with only one option of escape, cooperation.

"The Copsy Door" by Terry Dowling (5/5) A contest of wizards ensues involving Amberlin the Lesser whose spells don't quite go as planned.

"Caulk the Witch-Chaser" by Liz Williams (3/5) Not bad, but doesn't have the same charm as the former three. It lacks those witty/odd characters and descriptions that I've already grown to expect.

"Inescapable" by Mike Resnik (4/5) An enjoyable story, yet again reminding us that not everything is always as it seems in the Dying Earth.

"Abrizonde" by Walter Jon Williams (5/5) I really loved this story about a man who gets caught in a war of nations, none of which he belongs to, and decides to get involved. Given the indifference the leaders have to his predicament, getting involved is a good idea.

"The Traditions of Karzh" by Paula Volsky (5/5) The heir to Karzh has never really had the need to apply himself...until he is poisoned (by his uncle) and forced to unlock the cure or die. The ending was very surprising and also quite satisfying.

"The Final Quest of the Wizard Sarnod" by Jeff Vandermeer (4/5) I really enjoyed the characters in this one, but didn't love the ending. It also lacked, somewhat, that charm I mentioned earlier.

"The Green Bird" by Kage Baker (5/5) Probably my favorite so far in this excellent collection. It's witty, interesting, and surprising. The idea of not only a giant pit that people are thrown into is great, but to add to that a colony of survivors developing at the bottom of this pit and I was sold. Cugel the Clever earns his name in this one.

"The Last Golden Thread" by Phyllis Eisenstein (3.5/5) Another good, but not great story. It was interesting, involved some things (and species) I'm becoming familiar with, but I didn't love it or especially the ending.

"An Incident at Uskvosk" by Elizabeth Moon (4/5) This was an enjoyable story about a race of Giant Cockroaches and a young man falsely accused.

"Sylgarmo's Proclamation" by Lucius Shepard (4/5) Shepard has a unique way with metaphors that really gelled with me. I really liked the characters in this interesting tale that revolves around getting revenge on Cugel the Clever.

"The Lamentably Comical Tragedy (or The Laughably Tragic Comedy) of Lixal Laqavee" by Tad Williams (4/5) This story does everything the title suggests, but I think I still wanted a bit more. A presumptuous miscreant forces a wizard to "sell" him a few spells. This reminds me of the part in The Dark Knight where the accountant tries to extort Batman.

"Let me get this straight: You think that your client, one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the world, is secretly a vigilante who spends his nights beating criminals to a pulp with his bare hands. And your plan is to blackmail this person? Good luck."

"Guyal the Curator" by John C. Wright (4/5) This was a surprisingly good tale about a man with a case of amnesia and the last Effectuator, Manxolio Quinc, who uses his effectuating skills to find this man's identity. Many of the words used in this tale made me very glad I've read Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen series almost in preparation.

"The Good Magician" by Glen Cook (3.5/5) A lazy, self-centered man stumbles across something that should not be in his persuit of something he should not be persuing...at least not in the way he was doing it. I liked Cook's style and humor, but the story wasn't my favorite.

"The Return of the Fire Witch" by Elizabeth Hand (3/5) Another I wasn't a huge fan of. Saloona Morn is all but forced by the fire witch to participate in her plan for revenge. There were some surprises, but overall the story wasn't extremely interesting.

"The Collegeum of Mauge" by Byron Tetrick (5/5) This is another favorite in a The Name of the Wind sort of way. Drogo gets into a school for wizards, interrupting his search for his father.

"Evillo the Uncunning" by Tanith Lee (4.5/5) The self-named Evillo, encouraged by tales of Cugel, takes off on an adventure and picks up a magical talking snail. This was one of the more hilarious tales in the anthology. One great quote right at the beginning:

"...life is ever valuable and must be preserved - so that it may also be punished for the insolence of persisting."

"The Guiding Nose of Ulfant Banderoz" by Dan Simmons (4.5/5) The longest story of the bunch (almost 70 pages), the first half is easily 5 stars, but my interest began to wane in the middle and then it picks up again. Still a great story about wizards and warriors, powerful demons (one that took centuries to tame), and a trip across the dying world.

Also, this has one of the best illustrations of the book, including a look at each of the different characters.

"Frogskin Cap" by Howard Waldrop (2.5 to 3/5) I wasn't too impressed with this story. There really wasn't much to it, but it makes up in it's length (about 9 pages).

"A Night at the Tarn House" by George R R Martin (5/5) This read like a breeze, of course. The atmosphere was dark, yet playful and really captured the essence of the entire anthology. Some unlucky (and not so unlucky) characters find out that the Tarn House may not in fact be better than braving the terrors in the night - despite the wearies of travel.

"An Invocation of Curiosity" by Neil Gaiman (5/5) The perfect conclusion to the collection. Gaiman looks at what happens when it's all over and takes this premise in a really unexpected way. (Seak, GoodReads)

andrew j offut

Cormac Mac Art series

The Sword of the Gael (1976) Cormac and his faithful comrade Wulfhere Skull-splitter, are hurled through a swirling maelstrom to a faraway shore. There, Cormac joins up with the Princess Samaire and sets out to regain a throne. A tight little Howard pastiche. The action starts fast and ferocious and never really lets up; there are times when the relentless momentum can cause reader exhaustion. Vivid, archetypal characters, lots of references to Celtic myth and folklore, eternal return hints, some dark sorceries, a feisty main female character and a brooding, scarred man of battles at the focus.

The Undying Wizard (1976) Cormac Mac Art, the son of an Irish king, forced to live the life of an outlaw after he is unjustly accused of a crime, is finally vindicated and then pursued by an evil wizard who has waited centuries to seek revenge.

The Sign of the Moonbow (1977) Syagrius, the last Roman commander in the West,  accepts the aid of Cormac Mac Art and Wulfhere the Skull-Splitter in defending Sossions against Clovis. Tied in with the historical fact of Syagrius' defeat in 486, which ended Roman control of southern Gaul, and marked the end of his 10-year holdout after the fall of Rome, this final work in the series begun by Robert E. Howard ends Thulsa Doom's reign of terror as Cormac's arch-foe. With the lovely Samire at his side, the heroes do battle with Hengist, the Danish king and mortal enemy of Wulfhere, before reaching doomed Sossions. Andrew Offut also uses the novel to advance theories on the origins of the Irish race, tying in the Tulath de Danu, with their moonbow emblem, with Greek Diana, who also is identified with the crescent Moon. A good, light read, for those who like historical settings for swords & sorcery adventures.

The Mists of Doom (1977) This is a prequel to Howard's short stories and tells of the origins of Cormac. It has very good battle scenes and is an excellent introduction to the series. The narrative is such that it begins with a quest for vengeance and then, turns into potential cycles of prowess, exile, deceit, discovery, prowess and repeat.

When Death Birds Fly (1980) (with Keith Taylor) The name of Lucanor "Magus" strikes fear into the souls of all who sail the rough seas between Galicia and Britannia, for the spells of this mage and sorcerer are as evil as his heart--and he will rule these shores by whatever means he can. But he reckons without Cormac mac Art, he of the black hair and light eyes who has struck his own kind of fear throughout his native Eirrin and as far beyond as seafarers wander and tell tales of courage. Cormac is a warrior, more than a match for any other with sword or ax, but he is more than that. The blood of the High-kings of ancient days runs in his veins: the sorceries of such as Lucanor cannot overcome him though they come from the very bowels of Hell!

The Tower of Death (1982) (with Keith Taylor) brings to life the young Cormac, newly exiled,filled with the grim determination to prove his manhood on the treacherous sea lanes of fifth century Europe. Along with Wulfhere the Dane, whose name is as feared as Cormac’s own, the Irish prince turns pirate and is too successful at his chosen vocation for his own good...

War of the Wizards series (with Richard K Lyon)

Demon in the Mirror (1977)   begins the War of the Wizards Trilogy featuring the flame-haired Tiana Highrider, rapier wielding heroine extraordinaire. Much like Sonja, Tiana is brash and impulsive yet wise beyond the common perception of most. She is the foster daughter of a pirate captain named Caranga and captain of her own vessel, "Vixen." While she is a pirate captain, only the first chapter takes place on the open sea. The rest of Tiana's adventures take place inland searching for the dismembered body parts of the wizard Derramal. Her father Caranga also aids Tiana in her quest retrieving two of the pieces on quests of his own. While Demon in the Mirror is a rather short book (189 pages) it's absolutely filled with all the necessary action and adventure an epic fantasy tale embodies.

The Eyes of Sarsis (1980)  drops the interesting set pieces and episodic nature of its  predecessor (to its detriment), but like that predecessor it has a cover that's really easy to make fun of:  The likable and intriguing elements of the story--the invisible Shadow War between wizards and prehuman serpent-people, the city of strangely...bovine inhabitants, the easy defeat of the bad guy with plenty of time left in the book, and a raid upon a pirate stronghold which appears to be too late--are all overshadowed by Tiana herself, whose image of being a successful and equal-to-all-men pirate captain is continually undercut by immature behavior, a hotheaded need to prove herself (to whom?), and a weird need to attract or manipulate men by means of her appearance. There are several times when a man (especially an Older or Wiser man) has to set her straight, either by an outright rescue or by carefully explaining that the abusive, prejudicial, obnoxious Bjaine is Just Not Suitable for her. She comes off as being little better than the (purely ornamental) princess she's trying to rescue. It's as if the authors intended the successful, equal-to-all-men character, but only when she's not being a silly _girl_.

Web of the Spider (1981) Daring pirate captain! Bold-hearted adventuress! Brave and beautiful Tiana, enemy of the evil and powerful wizard Ekron, embarks on the most perilous of all her adventures at the helm of the Vixen. Armed with a black casket and its mysterious contents, as eyes track her from a distant storm-tossed island and fireballs roar from a crimson sky, Tiana, Highrider of Reme, journeys to an alien land where she will play out her awesom part in the deadly climax of the War of the Wizards!

War of the Gods on Earth series

The Iron Lords (1979) His true origin shrouded in mysteries, the youth Jarik fled with his un-sister, Torsy, to the harsh land of the Iron Lords. There he was schooled in the mighty arts of war. And there, guided by invincible gods to fulfill his twin destinies of great healer and savage avenger, he claimed the devastating Black Sword that would carve his legend in blood...a legend of a vengeance-thirst as dark and merciless as the magic weapon he wielded...born from the seeds of a manchild's Terror, sown so long ago.

Shadows Out of Hell (1980) Wielder of the god-sword, bearer of the god-bonds--Jarik Blacksword knew no peace...except the peace born of the heat of battle-rage! And this he would find aplenty on his god-sent quest past world's end, where Jarik found the warrior-sister who would be his future--and the knowledge that would bind his fate...

The Lady of the Snowmist (1983) When the Lady of the Snowmist freed Jarik Blacksword of his god-bonds, She bound him forever with a blood-tie and battle-scar to the knowledge that gods warred with gods on the earth -- and why. . . Yet even She could not contain the boundless rage of Jarik's god-sword. Or his thirst to become, throughbattle, whole at last.

King Dragon (1980) From deep space came a signal, sent just under a thousand years before: a planet called Jauhar al-Ajr, third from its sun and of a type that could be made livable for human beings, was being terraformed as an experiment in observed evolution. Aboard the now ancient ship sent to colonize the planet were embryos modified by genetic engineering: feline, canine, ursine, saurian. And perhaps--but only perhaps--human. For a thousand years these creatures have developed on an alien world--into what? What strange quirks has the planet Jauhar al-Ajr imposed on the devlopment of the species that on Earth became cats, dogs, bears, lizards...and men. After a thousand years of isolation, Earth means to find out. The mission will be dangerous, but it will be the making of everyone aboard. A lost world in space, ready for exploration, the world of KING DRAGON.

Standalones

The Galactic Rejects (1967) Stranded on an unknown planet, two men and a girl from Earth devise a carnival act to disguise their special powers and better fit in with the natives.

Evil Is Live Spelled Backwards (1970) "LET THERE BE LICENSE!" Satan spoke, and the orgy began, the writhing figures making weird patterns in the deserted churchyard.... A scene from medieval fantasy? No - 21st-century America, battleground between a religious tyranny that dominates the nation and a bizarre Satanist cult that uses the only weapons it has to fight for freedom. The Satanists are moving more daringly, the Government striking back more harshly - and the moment is coming when the word will flash out for the final battle: "This is Armageddon - repeat, ARMAGEDDON."

The Great 24-Hour Thing (1971) For one great, orgiastic day, every man on Earth could have sex with anyone he wanted!

The Castle Keeps (1972) more ambitiously depicts through an acid examination of Survivalist shibboleths the violent disintegration of Western culture through Overpopulation and Pollution; survivors, who live in armored Keeps, keep the world at bay. This is pretty much everything I hate about conservative libertarians. The characters were more one dimensional than an Ayn Rand novel. The main protagonist went to town, complaining about renting a “minik” for the day, when he only needed it for an hour, because he won’t use “public conveniences” (transport), presumably because it’s for communists.

Messenger of Zhuvastou (1973) In hot pursuit of his beautiful "fiancee", playboy Morris Keniston arrives on the mysterious and hostile planet Sovold. Before he can sample its violent lifestyle and bizarre terrain, or combat the amoral whims of its courts (and blue-haired courtesans) he needs to adopt a suitable disguise. So, with shaved head and skin dyed beige, he dons the yellow-crested helmet and green cloak of a Messenger of the mighty empire of Zhuvastou. Armed only with a heavy sword he is ready to set out on his urgent quest.  It most resembles L Sprague de Camp's Krishna series, even having the obligatory "Z" in the title: a technologically backward planet where these Earth people wander around in disguise, with some vague and frequently-sidestepped injunction against technological uplift. But Offutt doesn't manage the characterization or de Camp's mildly comic tone.

The Black Sorcerer of the Black Castle (1974) A Satire of Howard's Conan. Kimon the Konerian sets out to free the Princess Sabell, she alone knows the location of the Jewels of Chthon. Offutt exaggerates Howard's use of the word 'black' and it's many synonyms in this limited release chapbook. Illustrated by Ken Raney.

Chieftain of Andor (1976)  aka Clansman of Andor Robert Cleve does not belong. On Earth, he is out of his depth – a semi-barbarian, an atavist in the modern world.  But one day, he answers an ad that will change his life forever. He is offered an opportunity to live in another man’s body – on another planet, many parsecs away. A man with no ties, decisive mind, and sound body, Cleve is selected to take over the body of warrior chief Doralan Andrah, who is pivotal on his world of Andor, but whose mind is dying.  Cleve’s adjustment to the semi-primitive world is hard and fast – just how Cleve thrives. He quickly adapts to the new body and skills, learning to become the warrior he knew he always could be. But his memories of Earth and our treatment of sorcery leaves him vulnerable in a way he never anticipated. Soon, he finds himself surrounded by a cloud of confusion, assaulted from all sides by unfamiliar and unalloyed powers. His odyssey begins into the deepest depths of Andor, but he is woefully underprepared for the nameless terrors that await him…

My Lord Barbarian (1977) Valeron car Nadh swore violently. It was an impossible situation. The Emperor was dead – killed by the vilest sort of treachery. And, if that weren't bad enough, his beautiful daughter, Aleysha, was being forced into marriage... a heinous marriage to her father's assassin! Valeron had but a few days in which to halt these nefarious schemes... only a few days in which to rally the Kings on the other worlds of Carmeis... only a few days to catch the villain before he became the most powerful ruler of all. Unfortunately, there was one small problem. Valeron car Nadh, Warlord of Branarius, was locked in prison, accused of murdering the Emperor... and they had left him there to rot!  It plays in the same space as The Rebel of Rhada (Alfred Coppel), The Planet Wizard (John Jakes), and Star Barbarian (Dave Van Arnam), and is therefore a book that I would leap into with the greatest of enthusiasm, especially because Offutt seemed determined to have more fun with the concept than the others. What he produced is a fairly conventional sword-and-sorcery story with a veneer of setting that may ultimately have been more harm than good. I like the idea of an artificial solar system mysterously and catastrophically reduced to Iron Age technology (especially where the actual facts behind "The Wrath of Siense" and the Ancients in general are left murky), but the scale of it invites questions that Offutt wasn't prepared to answer, and offers opportunities he wouldn't take advantage of.

Conan series

Conan and the Sorcerer (1978) The mightiest barbarian returns in an all new illustrated adventure, matching wits with a Black Magician to regain the Eye Of Erlik - and his very soul.  Even more so than Robert Jordan, Andrew Offutt can write a fantastic Conan tale. He gets the character of Conan, gets the dialogue and manner of speech, understands his actions and reactions. Offutt clearly went out of his way to understand both the author and his creation.

The Sword of Skelos (1979) With the beautiful and fierce Isparana at his side, Conan must cross a brutal and deadly desert in order to deliver their precious cargo-a magical amulet known as the Eye of Erlik. But rather than collecting untold riches for their rare treasure, they are betrayed by a ruthless tyrant and his evil mage. Conan has faced many mortal dangers, perils of magic and perils of steel. But when the treacherous prestidigitator unleashes the bloodthirsty Sword of Skelos, a weapon of both magic and steel-a sword that can fight on its own-Conan faces one of his most dire challenges. How will Conan survive this battle, when there is no foe to slay?

Conan the Mercenary (1985) Conan is in Shadizar pursuing his career as a thief when he stumbles across a noble woman being robbed. He saves her life and she decides to hire him as a bodyguard, which pays much better than thievery. Conan is thrilled to find that she is cousin to a foreign queen, for he needs a crowned noble to break the curse which traps his soul. He follows her to Khauran and finds that the queen is cavorting with a suspicious young nobleman of questionable lineage. He also finds that his first foray into life as a palace guard is not to his liking. There is too much palace intrigue and not enough assassins. It's boring. His boredom is broken when he is drugged and betrayed, then he comes up with one his most clever plans to reveal the culprit. He kills a bunch of bandits, argues theology with some drunks, and engages in a bit of pedophilia. A short novel with 50 pages of illustrations. Much of the book is spent describing the elaborate clothing of rich noble women. And people are once again subject to horripilation. Entertaining but lacking the amount of action normally found in a Conan novel.

Thieves' World spin-offs

Shadowspawn (1987) Mignureal is the daughter of the first person to show Hanse kindness in his harsh upbringing. He was once a lonely and ostracized orphan who was denied food by all those around him save her mother. A sort of whimsical tale about two people traveling from their homeland, across a desert and all the perilous conditions they fall into.

Deathknight (1990) He is honour-bound to preserve the peace – at any cost… Falc of Risskor is feared, respected and obeyed throughout the land.  Known as Deathknight, he is an infamous member of the Sons of Ashah – honour-sworn men who preserve the peace had protect the citystates of Sij. Feared. Respected. Obeyed. And perhaps hated… The Deathknight is about to realise just how true that is. When knights of the Order start being killed, Falc must bring justice and seek revenge on the brutal murderer With an unlikely companion and a loyal darg, Falc ventures across the land to seek vengeance, and avoid being killed himself.  On the way, he will have to encounter those who know him, those who hate him, and those who want to kill him. His task is a difficult one, but will Falc uncover the truth and protect the Order?  And what else will he learn along the way?

The Shadow of Sorcery (1993) The most popular character in the Thieves' World series returns. Shadowspawn is more than a mere thief. He is lord of the night, king of adventure. In his latest quest to find the fabled Rings of Senek, Shadowspawn is plunged into a labyrinthine maze where demons lurk--and where deadly illusions trap the unsuspecting.

Anthologies

Swords Against Darkness (1977) Contains the following: "Nekht Semerkeeht", this was a decent story. I really liked the attitude of the lost conquistador. I can fully imagine them being like that. The action is quick paced and the ending is almost tragic enough to make me laugh. "Tale of Hauk", pretty much a modern rendition of a classic story a Norse Saga hero taking on a Draugr. Vergy good. "The Smile of Oisia", great story of a theft just gone awry. I particularly enjoyed one of the heroes having to roll the dice with Chance herself. "Pride of the Fleet" Awesome story, never seen the ending coming until right at the end. She was the kind of heroine I would of liked to have more stories of though. "Straggler from Atlantis", I loved this story. I just wish there was a little more to it. "The Ring of Set", excellent story. Wish I could get a hold of a ring like that, well, maybe not..... "Largarut's Bane" A very good story. I think the daughter was my favorite character of the entire story. "Dragons Teeth", now this was an awesome story. Action, magic, and WTF! Interesting times on the Roman frontier. "The Sustenance of Hoak", rounds out the stories in impressive fashion. I couldn't imagine the horror of living in a place like Hoak, but neither could the ones living it, now isn't that a conundrum?

Swords Against Darkness II While not quite as strong overall as the first volume, this book still contains many fine stories, and an interesting mix of authors. The first is a Witch World story by Andre Norton, that I found had a fine atmosphere, but the plot was rather weak and uninspired, though their were many elements of interest for me in the world building, and many mysteries she opens up that I hope she solves in other Witch World stories. Ramsey Campbell's Ryre story in this volume is magnificent, and I look forward to reading all the stories involving this character. Many Wade Wellman's Kardios story is fun and well written and highly enjoyable. David M. Harris' Coming of Age in Zamora is one of the weaker stories of this volume, by the end I came to enjoy it, as it is a humorous and ribald tale well told. Richard Teirney's Simon of Gitta story is well told and well written. Then we have a story by Tanith Lee, well written with many of her distinctive trademarks and a very unique voice. The story by Dennis More, a pseudonym for Keith Taylor is also well done. andy j. offutt's entry in this volume is fairly decent, not my favorite, but pretty good, some inventive bits and some nice twists. Worth the price of admission, yet again.

Swords Against Darkness III  The contents are all good, and the poetry is short and quick to read (but probably good if you like that sort of thing). Drake, Wellman, Campbell and Madison were the best stories in the book, I think, and Poul Anderson's essay an interesting look behind the scenes.

Swords Against Darkness IV (1979) . So far the instalments had been quite enjoyable, each with a solid table of contents, and this one looked to offer up the same level quality. Included are Charles R. Saunders tales set in ancient Africa instead of pre-historic Europe.

Swords Against Darkness V Slightly weaker than the earlier volumes, but Ramsey Campbell returns with a great story.

Richard Adams

All writers love the book that allows them to give up their day job. And although Richard Adams’s debut novel, Watership Down, is his most celebrated, it was Shardik, his second, that convinced him to quit the office. Published in 1974, it is a heady piece of fantasy centred on the creation of an animal-based religion, in which a giant bear is the object of worship of a developing human society riven by territorial and ideological dispute. It’s hard to see direct similarities with the work of other writers, although there are echoes of CS Lewis and Tolkien. And big animals were definitely in the air (or sea); Jaws was also published that year.

Shardik had taken Adams three years of evening working to finish, until, as he writes in the introduction to this 40th anniversary edition, “at last a point came when the story was complete and only needed polishing. I knew then that writing was to become my full-time occupation, and I was able to leave the civil service for good”. But Adams’s regard for the book extends beyond the reinforcement of a hoped-for career change. It is, he says, his masterpiece, one that fulfils all his requirements for a good novel: a beginning, middle and end, a hero or heroine, and a villain or, alternatively, “a villainous situation calling for redress”.

The villainous situation – progress that is built on the back of enslavement – is not apparent at the start of this 600-page, multi-sectioned novel, and a lot of complicated things have happened by the time we get to it. We start with a simpler scenario: a hunter who encounters a great big bear in a burning forest, “such a bear as never was, a bear tall as a dwelling-hut, his pelt like a waterfall, his muzzle a wedge across the sky”. Kelderek realises that this is no ordinary bear: returning to his settlement on the river island of Ortelga, he defies the local baron, and refuses to tell his story to anyone but the Tuginda, the head priestess on the neighbouring island of Quiso.

When finally he is brought before her, he confesses his earth-shattering suspicion: that the creature he encountered is a reincarnated Lord Shardik, the mythical beast slain long ago by a slave trader, whose return the inhabitants of Quiso await. Through Shardik, it is believed, God will reveal his secret truth, and his chosen auxiliary vessels are a man and a woman, roles into which Kelderek and the Tuginda quickly slot themselves.

The action is under way: Kelderek and assorted priestesses find the injured Shardik, nurse him back to health and even manage to get rid of the baron. Then, naturally, things begin to go wrong, as Adams expands the plot to introduce territorial disputes, political rivalry and corruption. The Ortelgan people, it transpires, have been driven from the city of Bekla, and many believe that the reappearance of Lord Shardik is a sign to try to regain their lost kingdom. From the outset, men tailor the situation to suit their own purposes. “Shardik has been sent to restore us to Bekla,” says the young nobleman Ta-Kominion, before adding that “the peasants need to know no more than that”.

Shardik comes in pretty handy on a battlefield, and quickly vanquishes the Beklan forces. Indeed, he would scare anybody, with his appearance of an animal “created in hell to torment the damned by its mere presence”, his blood-covered claws and the “streaked, ochreous foam” that froths from his mouth, and his eyes, “the eyes of a mad creature, inhabiting a world of cruelty and pain”. (No wonder this awe-inspiring creature stuck in the mind of Stephen King, who gave the same name to the cyborg bear in the Dark Tower series.)

For Kelderek, Shardik brings mixed fortunes: in the wake of the Ortelgans’ victory, he is installed as a sort of priest-king of Bekla, “a city more marvellous than a mountain made of jewels”; but as the years pass, he becomes increasingly mired in realpolitik and desperate for the incarcerated Shardik to deliver more revelations. In need of funds, he revives the slave trade despite his intrinsic goodness: “We can’t afford to be benevolent and generous,” he argues. It is this plot development that provides Adams with his most intensely felt material; the arrival of the sadistic slave-owner, Genshed, who abuses the children he also trades in, provides the catalyst for Kelderek, portrayed from the very beginning of the book as a protector of children, to come to his moral senses.

Shardik is fantastical to a degree not seen elsewhere in Adams’s work, although he did publish a companion book, Maia, in 1984, and there are mythological elements in Watership Down. Its themes are serious: the power of religion and belief to sway and distort human behaviour is underlined by the fact that Adams never reveals whether Shardik is anything other than an entirely mortal bear; the treatment of slavery and child abuse is similarly considered. Whether the novel’s setting and language function as a distraction – its characters with names such as Zilkron of the Arrows, and its fairytale landscapes – is a matter of personal taste; it is certainly a story told with conviction and creative zest. Those rabbits, though, are unlikely to yield their place as his readers’ favourite characters, despite their creator’s preferences. (The Guardian)

Maia is set in the same world as Shardik, the Beklan Empire, a few years before the events of the latter book; some characters and situations overlap. Maia is a peasant girl "as pretty and about as cultivated as a gazelle," fated to become an heroic legend. Yet to call Maia merely an exotic fantasy is to say that War and Peace is a Russian war novel. Maia is more than the sum of its parts and a cliffhanger in the bargain that kept me turning its thousand pages to find what happened next, and nowhere along the way, bless him, does Richard Adams give you more than a few pages to stop and catch your breath. Never rambling or indulgent, Maia moves like a well-cut film: where one scene ends, the next takes up exactly where it should. To achieve this in a densely-populated narrative, Adams wisely keeps his story tightly focused on a few central characters.

Sold to Bekla as a slave, Maia meets Occula, a strong-willed black prostitute who has contrived for reasons of her own to be sold into the city. Occula takes the naive Maia under her protection as both are sold to Sencho, the city's High Counsellor, an obese voluptuary who has murdered his way from the gutter to the top. The Bekla Maia sees is a city recently overthrown by one faction (the Leopards), which puts forth Durakkon, a well-meaning but ineffectual High Baron against the rebels of the old Heldro order still prowling the edges of their usurped power. Behind the puppet front of the weak Durakkon, Sencho struggles for power with Kembri, the Lord General.

Beautiful, a willing concubine and a born dancer, Maia is soon recruited by Kembri for spying on the side, and she becomes a piece on the board in the plot-counterplot between Leopards and rebels. As Maia grows in popularity, she becomes a very expendable pawn while learning more of her own background, which is not entirely as it seemed. When she betrays the one man she has found to love (through Kembri's orders and her own humanity), Maia becomes the heroine of the empire. With new wealth and the popularity of a goddess, she attracts the attention of a far more formidable adversary than Kembri or any rebel: the Sacred Queen, Fornis.


Fornis is as fascinating as a cobra with legs, a Titian beauty, able and ambitious, and psychotically fearless. Every excess in her rapacious character stems from a trait that might have made her admirable. A natural leader, able to inspire her followers by example, equal to any risk or hardship, Fornis is as hypnotic as Hitler, with the same perverted needs and appetites. These appetites are nursed along by gritty Occula for her own purposes; yet she still tries to protect Maia, who is sure to be acclaimed Sacred Queen in Fornis' place by the populace and the rebels who need to use her. The title is a religious honor, now turned into real power by Fornis, who has no intention of stepping aside. Kembri wants his own daughter-in-law nominated for equally potent reasons. As a popular mascot, Maia was one thing (albeit a little too kind for Fornis' murky sexual tastes), but as a rival she's as good as dead. Although courageous and helped by a widening circle of friends high and low, Maia feels the noose tightening around her neck. She is betrayed again and again as she tries desperately to get herself and her lover out of the empire while it collapses about her in a welter of colliding armies. Planning Maia's death, Fornis is ready as always to dare the impossible, even the dreaded Curse of the Streels (a beautifully understated menace), but she must have her prized Occula with her -- which is exactly what purposeful Occula planned. . .

Maia is a delicious contradiction: a big, fat adventure read with no fat at all. Adams' artificial language is as skillful here as in Shardik or Watership Down. Very quickly the reader understands and accepts the foreign words for common things, contributing to the depth of the large tapestry. Fastidious purists (myself not among them) may cavil at dialogue choices. The various social strata of the Beklan Empire speak with recognizably English idioms, from Leslie Howard-Cambridge to Maia's Yorkshire glottals. Occula sounds much like her modern counterpart, a street-tough, gutsy black hooker, but none of this matters at all except to make the characters more immediate and real. You believe these people, larger than life as they are -- the calculation, the cynicism, folly, sick indulgence, desperation and heroism.


Adams has the good dramatic sense to play against the high romance of his theme. While maintaining epic sweep and pace, his totally realistic style gives the picture grain and depth. There are minor quibbles: Maia remains naive and impulsive long beyond the dictates of her circumstances, and there is a tendency to wrap up loose ends too neatly, but Maia's actions flow from real need, love and fear. So do Occula's and those of the others, for good or ill. What raises Maia leagues above the boundaries of exotic romance is Adams' characterization. These are people you have seen striding across your own times or even down the hall. Legendary setting does not obscure them. You know who and what they are and why they move. And you will remember them. (Washington Post)

Lynn Abbey

Daughter of the Bright Moon  In this novel, Rifkind is the daughter of a clan chief. She had been born during a lightstorm.  In this story, Rifkind returns to her father's camp to find the tents burned and everybody dead or missing. She had warned them of a coming attack, but they would not listen to her. Now her father is missing and her brother is dead.

I dug up my old copy of this book at my Father's house where it has been moldering in the basement for the last 20 years. Out of curiosity, I brought it back with me to Holland because I had the notion that I remembered it. Funny how *well* I remembered it. As I turned the pages, I could clearly remember what I was reading and had a sense of what was coming next. Rifkind is a loner in a tribe of loners-- outcast from her desert tribe, she turns to her goddess to help her find her destiny. I'm not sure how well it holds up over time (my real review is something more like 3.5 stars) but there was a fair amount to hold an adult's interest, just like there was enough to hold that of a teenager. Some of the aspects feel visionary in light of the fiction that came after this book and others simply fall flat. Worth reading if you can find it. (Amazon)

The Black Flame  In sharp contrast to its predecessor, I found the sequel to Daughter of the Bright Moon to be a talky, tedious affair. I should have been tipped off by the unpromising prologue, which shows Rifkind in the undignified act of running weeping from a ballroom when she realizes it is not her destiny to marry Ejord, the studly scion of Chatelgard manor. I beg your pardon? Romance novel histrionics? Is this the Rifkind I've come to know and love?

Fortunately, this claptrap doesn't last long and is merely a plot device to get Rifkind out of the manor. By the first chapter, she's hacking the tentacles off a slimy swamp thing. Having left Chatelgard with Jenny, a former lady-in-waiting to the court, finds herself in the swampy land of Felmargue, inhabited by raft-dwelling folk known as the Quais. The Quais are clannish and nomadic people whose legends tell that the swamp exists as a form of punishment by the gods, who didn't like what a group of magicians were getting up to in their nearby castle. One day, the legends say, the swamps will be destroyed by the Leveller, who will come when the gods decide the Quais have been punished enough, and the land will return to dry habitability. Rifkind's business in Felmargue is personal. Somewhere in this humid, slimy land is the Hold, an enclosure housing the Descendant, who guards the Well of Knowledge. Here is located a magical substance called the Black Flame, with which Rifkind has been told she can replace the ruby pendant lost in the first novel, and enhance her ability to channel the powers of the Bright Moon. To put it simply: the book is too cool to dismiss, but too lumbering to enjoy. . (SFReview)

Rifkind's Challenge In this story, twenty years have passed. Rifkind is still the best Healer among the clans, but her students are very proficient. Her special patient -- Tyrokon -- has agreed that further healing will not help him. And Rifkind is having dreams of the Wet-landers that she has known.  This tale takes Rifkind and the boys to Epigos. They get in trouble there and have to flee without most of their supplies. Rifkind then tries to get the boys to return to the clan, but Cho disagrees. After Cho asks whether she can prevent them following her, she gives in and starts teaching the boys about the strange Wet-lands. Highly recommended for Abbey fans and for anyone else who enjoys tales of personal magic, political intrigue, and women warriors. (Arthur W Jordin)

The Guardians There's a witch on Riverside Drive...
Lise Brown was thrilled with her new apartment; it was more than anyone fresh from the Midwest had a right to expect in Manhattan. She loved it for the river view and the high old ceilings, but even more for the unexpected way she felt instantly at home there - as if the place had been waiting for her.
She could not know that apartment 647 contained a rift into another world, a frightening world of malevolent spirits kept contained only by the rituals of the previous tenant. She can feel the evil on the other side of the rift, growing stronger, feeding on her fear, waiting for the moment when it will be powerful enough to break through into a helpless world. To stop it, Lise must learn what it means to be a witch...Though I haven't read this book in ages, it was one of the first urban magic fantasy dramas I had ever read, and I was surprised to see it unlisted and with no pictures. So I'm adding a picture and the back of the book text below. It was a good book, at least I remember enjoying it. And seeing how popular this genre is now, perhaps people may be interested.  (Amazon)

Unicorn and Dragon I stumbled across this novel recently and found an interesting historical fantasy. The setting is England in 1065 as the Saxon and Norman tensions are escalating. The focus is on a Saxon family stronghold and the events that occur as war inches closer to their home and old way of life. While the book has all of the raw details of such a rough age such as bloody fighting and the rowdy drinking of warroirs, the story is tamed and made interesting in that the women of the house are the main characters. The two daughters, Alison and Wildecent, and their aunt, Lady Ygurna, are the ones who truly run the place and keep the men in order. One reads of their story as their lives are changed by the shifting politics of the country. This occurs quite suddenly when a young Norman, Stephen, is brought wounded into their home. Both girls discover what intrigue and love mean as the result of his presense. While the characters try to occupy the modern world of politics and Christianity, one soon realizes that an ancient Celtic magic is practiced secretly by the women. This magic is hinted at throughout the book, but is shown fully as everything climaxes at the end. Lynn Abbey has created a very realistic world in this novel. One gets a good picture of Saxon life during this period. The characters are personal and believable. I think that this is a good read for anyone interested in this period where England hovered on the brink of a new era. (Amazon)

Conquest The fate of eleventh-century England depends on two sisters--the compulsive Alison and the White Raven. Good stuff. (Amazon)
crafty Wildecent--as the dark forces of the outside world invade Malfwynder Manor. Great follow up to a strong first volume. The only negative is she leaves you wanting for the third volume that never got written. the characters are well fleshed out and interesting. In the vein of Diane Paxon's

The Wooden Sword Trapped in stasis for twenty years in the bark of the oldest tree in the ancient forest of Walensor, Dart is finally released by the trees, given three magic gifts, and sent on a mission to save his world.  This would merely be a throwaway setup for the second book in a fantasy series if it weren't for the absorbing characters who are developed. Berika ought to be a stock peasant with a calling, but somehow she rises above simple explanations by the tragedies that shape her fate. Her need to escape from her limitations is not just theoretical, but a life-and-death struggle. Similarly, Dart is not just the handsome savior prince with a mission, but a confused man without a past and imperative drives he cannot understand. Both figures are compelling in their all-too-human failings and conflicts. This purchase may commit readers to following a series, but it has virtues that make it a standout in the genre.

Beneath the Web As the Walensor Web, a magical artifact that joins together the souls of gods and humans, begins to die, only Berika, a young shepherdess with untried magical powers, can stop the destruction of her world. In the world patiently crafted Lyn Abbey lets her characters lose to solve the mystery of 'Dart' and wether he is man, demon, fetch, or who knows what. Berika the sheperdess came off relatively poorly in the first book, still gaining her feet. As she finds her power that changes. The obsessive reader of science fiction for some thirty five years, I rarely find a book who's ending I can't guess, but Lyn Abbey makes the whole thing a unique experience with her depth of detail and characterization. I only wish I could say of her that 'she doesn't know when to end a series', as two books seems to be her limit. A pity, because the rich worlds she carves out have the potential for much more. These two books are worth finding. (Amazon)

Out of Time Emma Merrigan, long-time librarian at a Midwest University cherishes her quiet, comfortable life as a librarian for a large, Midwestern university. The last thing she wants or needs is a Capital-D Destiny, especially one that's rooted in the nightmares she's endured since childhood. But her efforts to deny that destiny take her to the brink of disaster and an unimaginable reunion with the one person who can teach her what she'll need to know to survive.  Lynn Abbey is a well-established fantasy novelist best known for some pretty gritty fair -- Thieves World, Forgotten Realms, Magic, and the like. This is a book much closer to her -- a middle-aged, unassuming, well-educated woman from Ann Arbor, Michigan who just happens to travel through time fixing things. Her figure isn't perfect, her breasts aren't perky, she doesn't look fabulous in a leather bikini. Instead, she has a job, a house, civic commitments, dysfunctional family issues -- oh, and this whole time traveling thing. This is fantasy that I can relate to. (Amazon)

Behind Time When it comes to fulfilling her newly revealed destiny as a hunter and destroyer of humanity's curses, Emma Merrigan has exhausted her supply of beginner's luck: She's saddled with a secret life her best friends cannot share. Her lover's been dead for four centuries. Her mother's in coma. Her stepfather's up to no good. And, if that weren't enough, now someone---or something---is attacking her where she's most vulnerable: in the past.

Taking Time It wasn't easy, but Emma Merrigan,librarian and curse-hunter, has finally gotten her life in order. Her mother's disappeared again, to Emma's great relief. Her stepfather's behaving himself. Her hair's back to its youthful color and, thanks to her nightly rounds in the Wasteland, she no longer has to worry about that mid-life "spread." A more paranoid woman might have gotten suspicious, but Emma isn't paranoid, at least not until she starts attracting attention from curse hunters as well as curses.

Down Time Even a Curse Hunter needs a vacation once in a while. And what could be better than the Caribbean cruise Emma Merrigan's mother suggests? Emma could write a list, but in a weak moment, she agrees to a week of much-delayed mother-daughter bonding. How bad could it be when no sensible curse-hunter would ply her trade from the decks of a moving ship? She learns the answer to that question the hard way after a stranger leaps to his death in moonlit water and a ghostly child begins stalking her through the tropical heat.  Aninteresting urban fantasy featuring a heroine who is smart enough to know she doesn't have all the answers and is savvy enough to listen to people who have more of them. The wastelands are an interesting place, a barren dimension with a magnetic sky where curses and rogues abound. Emma is obsessed with destroying as many as she can to make the world a better place. Lynn Abbey is a spectacular urban fantasist. (Amazon)

Siege of Shadows Aristocratic twin siblings--Kyle, a young Hart-lord, and his sister Kiera, haunted by a dream of Rapture--set out to solve the mystery of the Siege of Shadows, a golden throne rumored to hide the mystery of life.

Jerlayne Jerlayne, the youngest child of Elfin heroine Elmeene, ventures through the Veil that separates the worlds of Faerie and humans in order to unlock mysterious secrets that date back to the very origins of Faerie and that now once again threaten the realm. This is one of those odd books that is remarkably hard to categorize, even though it does fit quite neatly into the fantasy section of any bookstore. You see here we have a book about Elves, who live in faire, and the women can all "shape" things (such as fabric flowers out a piece of a thread, or pain into flesh, or healing) while the men forage for any supplies needed-in the mortal world. These elves don't really do anything but farm (or their servants, the gnomes, dwarfs, and so on farm), so they need almost everything from the mortal side of the "veil." Meanwhile the elves have tons of children, since they're immortal, and most of these kids turn into gnomes or dwarfs or some other kind of fairy creature, occasionally even a dragon. There are also ogres about, and to be protected from these beasts, goblins make bargains to protect the homesteads of each elf couple (yup, just like in the Wild West) in exchange for iron chains which the women shape as their induction into adulthood. But this land is full of secrets, upon secrets, upon secrets. Mostly about why all of the children that our heroine has keeps turning into something else when she so desperately wants them to be elves. And there's some kind of goblin conspiracy, a whole lot of weird religion stuff (and I do mean weird) and some fairly odd interactions with the mortal world. All in all this isn't a bad book, it's just strange.  (Amazon)

Sanctuary Long before the gritty, realistic and, perhaps, perverse protagonists written by GRR Martin, Robert Jordan, Greg Keyes and R. Scott Baker, Robert Asprin and Lynn Abbey's world was populated with heroes but predominantly rogues in the "cess pit of the Empire", the city of Sanctuary. For those overdosed on the stock characters promulgated by, predominantly, the success of Tolkien, the denizens of Sanctuary were all too human (even if not completely human, themselves) in their desires and pursuit of self interest. In contrast to the popular and prevalent high-medieval settings of the day, Thieves' World was, at latest, analogous to the late pre-Christian Roman Empire. Sadly, the series stopped rolling out installments in the mid-1990's.

In Sanctuary, the novel by Abbey from 2005, we return to the mean streets of an even more ravaged city
for a much needed update. The cult of the mother goddess, Dyreela, has been expelled and, seemingly, eradicated, allowing the denizens of Sanctuary a tentative breath of relief. Molin Torchholder, former high priest and architect of Vashanka (god of war and storms), discovers a vengeful remnant of the cult, however, and scrambles furiously to complete certain plans and set others into motion in order to protect the city he detests with a passion. Caught up in his plans are Cauvin, formerly a novice of the bloodiest of Dyreela's splinter cults and rescued from death by Molin 15 years before, and Bec, his brother through Cauvin's adoptive family. Cauvin is essentially trained as a thug, and puts his former training to use breaking ruined mansions up for stone to sell through his adoptive father, while Bec is the sheltered child fascinated by his brother's more visceral abilities while remaining confident in his own abilities as a scholar. As Molin, Cauvin and Bec wind their way through the story, we catch up with the stories of those characters prevalent in the previous five anthologies of the series, some of whose ultimate fates proved a bit anticlimactic. Unlike previous Thieves' World installments, this story is concluded within the pages of one volume, and is written solely by the one author (Abbey). As a result, it's also a frenetic page-turner, my having read all of the approximately 500 pages in a day. The level of action, detail and sheer genius of the writing is akin to the best of that of the previous various anthologies. (Amazon)

Catwoman When the crime lords of Gotham City declare war on both the human and feline population, Batman and Catwoman unite to combat this deadly menace.

The Simbul's Gift The Simbul, Storm-queen of Aglarond, is unhappy. Though she has triumphed over her enemies, she lacks an heir to the throne—a child to love and nurture. But now she's found the perfect father for her child: Elminster, the old mage of Shadowdale. All she has to do is win his consent. (Amazon)

The Nether Scroll  is set in the south-western reaches of the Anarauch desert where the Zhentarim reign supreme. The book describes the story of an unlikely group of adventurers consisting of a human female fighter, a human male wizard (who happens to be her ex-), a human male thief (who is her adopted son), and a goblin (who works for a mysterious lady-of-the-forest and who happens to be holding the female's husband, the wizard's best friend, and the thief's step-father) as they venture into an abandoned by the Netherese mine complex in search of an ancient scroll. The Nether Scroll is the last in a series of four novels (known as the Lost Empires series and which includes The Lost Library of Cormanthyr, Faces of Deception, and Star of Cursrah) that deal with the secrets of four of Toril's long lost ancient civilizations. The book starts off with a bang and then it's downhill all the way to the end...

Wolfsong From the authors of Elfquest and the creators of Thieves' World, this second volume is set in the Elfquest world--a time when the Wolves and the Wolf-Riders were forming their deep emotional bonds and learning how to live on the World of Two Moons.

The Brazen Gambit The best of the Dark Sun books to be published, though not the best of Abbey's own work. Possibly because of TSR guidelines, but who really knows? The book is still enjoyable, and with the exception of Abbey's sequals (of which The Rise and Fall of a Dragon King is the best, surpassing even this) the only Dark Sun book that captures the world it was set in. The book features Pavek as its hero, and while a jaded, depressed, lost templar, he is a likable hero--a stark change from the farm boys who will be king, blah, blah, blah... You understand. And he has his good sides and bad, which is another change for books shot out of the cannon by TSR. I won't go into details of the plot, since most are simplistic enough as they are, but I read the whole thing in one sitting: which says that I didn't want to put it down and turn on the TV instead. The style is Abbey's own, the characters are working well, and the dialogue is crisp--all a plus, and all making it a good read. And Hamanu is excellent. He alone is worth the price of admission (which is why Rise and Fall of a Dragon King is better). So, verdict: a pleasent book, with a good style, and likable characters that are not farm boys who will be kings and other such useless trash. I read it and I liked it.

Cinnabar Shadows Escaping a life of slavery by hiding beneath the city among other outcasts, Maribe of the "New Race" is forced to accept a contract from King Hamanu to search for the alchemist Kakaim, whose views threaten the stability of Urik.

The Rise and Fall Of A Dragon King  The much-feared sorcerer-king of Urik, Hamanu joins a plot to force a transmutation that will allow him to avoid his own corruption but that will destroy all of Urik in the process. The author is most concerned with character and motivation. We originally met Hamanu in the Prism Pentad, as a harsh tyrant and brutal defender of his city. In later novels and stories, his relationship with the land's protectors, and his humility and overall deep sadness were explored. Lynn Abbey creates a past and a set of motivations for Hamanu which (in the context of this make-believe world) are credible and profoundly moving. The dictators of our own world (both right-wing and left-wing) claim (if pressed) that they must suppress freedoms to maintain security and prosperity for their people. Are they sincere? Are they correct? I don't know. But Hamanu finds himself in their position, and struggles (as perhaps they do) with its implications. The struggle is the theme of this book. And in the end, he recovers his humanity, both literally and spiritually. (Amazon)

Forge of Virtue Lord Ironhawk's son, Jordan Hawson; Althea; Drum, the blacksmith; and Jordan's kid brother, Squirt, search for Balthan, Althea's magician brother, the only one to know the truth about the evil infesting the land of Britannia.  This is a spinoff of the long-running ULTIMA series of computer games. Unfortunately, it doesn't tie close enough with Ultima mythology to please fans, while at the same time not explaining things well enough for newcomers.

Temper of Wisdom  A plucky band of adventurers returns to Britannia to find that it has been overtaken by a dark and evil force.

Planeswalker As the follow-up to The Brothers' War (Magic: The Gathering: Artifacts Cycle), PLANESWALKER disappoints. Where the previous book was full of action and intrigue, this tedious book is contains lots of philosophy and a gradual build-up towards a climax that ends just a few pages after it begins. Additionally, the writing style of Abbey doesn't hold a match next to Jeff Grubb. Dialogue between characters who don't seem to know each other even after about three thousand years of constant companionship annoys, and dull action scenes fail to excite. All the being said, this book is worth reading. Find out what happened to Urza after he unleashed devastation at the end of THE BROTHERS' WAR, and follow characters as they travel through the Multiverse and visit bizarre but somewhat familiar realms, including Serra and Phyrexia. Also, the characters are actually quite unique and intriguing. Xantcha in particular (who is really the main character) presents a very complicated character that you'll wish you could appreciate more. The interplay between her and Ratepe is very emotionally satisfying and thought-provoking. Even the two-fold way in which the story is presented, from Xantcha's reminiscing of the past and of her adventures in the present was a good idea, just not pulled off all that well. Bottom line, this book was a disappointment, but I'm not too upset that I spent a couple of days reading it. I'll continue with the series, but wouldn't recommend it to anyone.(Amazon)