Warbreaker - Brandon Sanderson

To keep a treaty made long ago, the king of Idris must send his daughter to marry Susebron, the God King of Hallandren. Loath to part with his eldest daughter, Vivenna, King Dedelin instead sends his youngest daughter, tomboyish 17-year-old Siri, who struggles to make sense of the schemers and spies in Susebron's court. Hoping to rescue her sister, Vivenna joins a group of Idrian operatives with questionable motives. As Vivenna comes to terms with her magical abilities, resurrected hero Lightsong questions the role of the undead Returned Gods, who command Hallandren's mighty army of zombie soldiers.

Warbreaker was the first book by Brandon Sanderson that I read – before I tackled the mighty Mistborn trilogy (more on that later) or Elantris. I found it refreshingly original.

The world he creates is both bizarre and complex – a whole magical system based on colour, and two opposing kingdoms with vastly different views on just what that element represents and how it should be used. The plot is extremely convoluted, with many characters doing many different things, and never communicating with each other, so that things only get more complicated.

But through it all, there are a few recurring themes that give unity to the book – the difficult to grasp and even more difficult to fulfil concept of duty, the importance of familial obligation, respect of traditions, cultural tensions. At its hearth, this book is about opening your eyes to a wider world, and accepting that there are people who live with different sets of values.

The two leads are great characters – and strong women active in a complex and dangerous world. The most amazing transformation is in the character of Vivenna, who starts the book as a self-contained, self-assured – and ultimately self-centred – princess, bred to do her duty, who ends up escaping these chains and running away to an uncertain – and probably much more exiting – future. Hers is the more developed character, but I must admit to a certain fondness for light-hearted Siri, whose intrinsic joy and marvel at the world around her was simply a delight to read. She faces the worst challenges, and still sees the good in the world and the people around her.

And in the end, that is what I enjoyed the most about this book – even in the midst of tragedy (or more accurately, at its cusp) the dialogues are hilarious, the text has a sharp edge of dark humour, and the very world described is a continuous fête, the colours, the music, the art, hiding the deeper injustices of the world.

This is one of the things I love about Sanderson – he never falls back on the tried and true (wizards, elfs, goblins, etc.) but keeps us guessing and plays the reader against his own expectations. You never know what will happen next, or if you do, chances are you’re wrong. He also isn’t afraid to tackle difficult and potentially explosive subjects – and his take on the nature of religion is both interesting and imaginative, enough to invite reflection and discussion without being needlessly inflammatory.

This is the kind of book that doesn’t start with a bang, but slowly grows on you, so that by the last 50 or 60 pages, you’re up till tree in the morning to finish the story.

This is a great read for anyone who likes fantasy, particularly considering it is available for free at the author’s webpage – I’m posting a link for the final version here, but if you want to check the progression of the writing, there are numerous previous versions available as well as deleted scenes and comments by the author. Check it out!

Deborah Crombie's Duncan Kincaid/Gemma James Novels

I’ve set up this blog - mostly as a way to structure and plan comments on things I read and do - and then spent the next few days staring at it and wondering where to begin. Because the truth is, I read a lot. I gobble down books and stories like other people drink water, and if there were a support group for compulsive readers anonymous, I’d probably feel compelled to join.

In the end, I simply decided to look at my bookshelves, slowly make my way through them, and worry about organizing the site when there is actually something there to organize. I imagine I’ll need a category for books, probably divided into fantasy, crime, historical, romance and more serious literature, another for fanfiction, one for cinema and art. But for now, on to my first book review: Deborah Crombie’s Duncan Kincaid and Gemma James series.

There are 13 books in the series so far, started in the early 1990’s with A Share in Death. The author gives us more or less a book a year, as seems to be the norm with these crime series. Each book stands well on its own, with a death, investigation and unmasking of the culprit at the end – seems pretty straight forward, right?

And it is, as far as that goes. With the exception of one volume, A Finer End, all the books are classical examples of the British crime novel (no matter that they are written by an American author!). And even if that were all, I wouldn’t complain – they are well thought out, well written, and Deborah Crombie gets better with each book she writes. But there is more to the series than simple sleuthing, each story, each character, is well developed, his or her background explored, actions, reactions, everything is explained in detail.

There are many flashbacks in the series, and while reading they can sometimes be off-putting (since they break the rhythm of the book), but this shows the depth of the characters and the thought that went into their creation. This is the one aspect I am sometimes ambivalent about, but even while annoyed to have a cliffhanger prolonged while I muddle through a dozen pages of back-story, I can’t deny the fact that it is always information that enriches the plot.

And then there are our two detectives – and they are a delight. I loved the way their personal relationship developed together with the series, and how everything isn’t just sunshine and roses. Seeing them face those fictional challenges brings out their humanity, and is one more example of that care about character development I mentioned earlier. They are each complete individuals in their own right – very tridimensional, with strengths and weaknesses that can complement or strain the relationship. Gemma’s empathy, Duncan’s difficulties in always grasping this aspect of her personality, all of it adds to the reading experience.

One can’t help comparing this series with Elizabeth George’s Inspector Lynley (male/female detective couple, Scotland Yard, Murder investigations) – and I do believe they fall squarely in the same genre, even if the style of writing is completely different. I enjoy both series, even though I only just discovered George and I’ve been reading Crombie for years. They both have engaging central characters, but I think there might be a depth, or maybe a drama in Lynley that is not present in the other series. The themes that E.G. chooses for her novels are much darker, and the way she delves into the psyche of her characters reflects that – there is more suffering, more pain, more despair.

Deborah Crombie manages to infuse a certain lightness in every volume – whether in the description of acts of human kindness, or simply in the affection between her central characters and their imminently healthy family life.

So, highly recommended, a real pleasure to read! My favourite volume is, I think, Dreaming of the Bones, one of the more complex plots of the series, but I also loved Mourn not Your Dead, And Justice There is None, and more recently, Water Like a Stone.