MichaelB
January 29th, 2009, 06:24 PM
Review: A Dark Winter (The Tenabran Trilogy, Book 1) by Dave Luckett, 1998.
From the opening senstence, I was hooked. Told in an unconventional first-person perspective, this is High Fantasy as I have never seen it before. Oh, it has all the trimmings: Knights in armour, sword-maidens, goblins, political intrigue and a corrupt prince---but nothing about this book is cliche. The characters, the places, and the philosophies are rendered in exquisite detail. Even so, the details manage to blend into the narrative beautifully. At no point does it feel like infodumping; the details and ideas are worked into the descriptions, the actions and the dialogue with masterful subtlety. This is a truly inspiring artwork which can be enjoyed by any fan of fantasy and speculative fiction.
The thing that catches my interest most about this book is that it's a story of realism. From the mechanics of fighting in full-plate, to the troubles of travelling cross-country on destriers (war-horses), and even the economics of small cities, everything is detailed and realistic. Nothing happens without reason, and the author, through the world-weary narrator, explores many of the implications of the characters' actions both before and after, as well as discussing the nature of evil and of magic, as well as advanced battle stragegies, from melee fighting in the city to defending an ancient fort in siege.
Consider these quotes:
Blood was already running down his arm and onto his grip—good. But he grinned, feeling no pain. Cut, cut, thrust, over the chair, grinnjing like a goblin... But if you're bleeding, it doesn't matter how brave or hopped-up you are. There comes a point where the muscle won't obey. He'd lost blood. Already his strokes felt weaker, and he might have been slowing up...He gargled, and fell straight through the rickety handrail to the floor, where he bounced, soggily, and expired. We all stood and stared at each other. Silvus spoke first. 'Now I'll need a new balustrode,' he complained, between breaths. 'And the gods only know what the cleaning is going to cost.'
I hate destriers. They're the war-horses that knights ride—ugly, big as a working class privy and nasty with it.... You can't create a cavalryman in six days, and anyway rough-country ponies—mules, even—would have been more sensible where we would be going... Another of [the destriers'] less endearing characteristics is the amount they eat, and anyway, defending walls is not a job you give to the mounted.
Tournaments are to war what sweetmeats are toeating. Colourful, pleasant, charming and rich, but you can't live on them.
Then there were four sutlers, a groom each, a farrier, and a half-dozen odds and sods, servants, varlets, and scullions. And a cook. And three carts. Not counting private baggage. That non-combatant tail was why knights are old hat. They were hideously expensive to outfit and maintain, and they were only good for one tactic—the bald-headed charge. Pikemen and archers could stop that, and once stopped, knights were done for.
And my personal favourite from the small selection I had the time to choose from:
I blame the plate [mail]. It makes you feel invulnerable... nobody should feel that cocky... It doesn't matter how well you're armoured if they can get you down, or hold you while they slip a dagger through an eye-slit.
All in all, and I don't want to spoil the brilliant foreshadowing, I recommend this book to all fans of fantasy and speculative fictiopn. It is a witty, realistic and well-planned book that not only takes consequences into account, but follows through with counter-plans and logical, rational thinking, which is something of a rarity amongst the fantasy fiction I've personally read.
Dave Luckett takes the reader on an adventure where instead of feeling 'infodumped' by the sheer amount of detail and technical knowledge, we are immersed more fully in his world, and the world of Will de Parkin, the no-nonsense militiaman-turned-squire; as well as offering an interesting philosophical debate about the nature of magic, evil, and morality in politics, and the influence of power. In such a detailed work as this, you might be forgiven for expecting ponderous prose and bogged-down action sequences. Quite the opposite; the action scenes rush along with a gripping intensity and a a tantalisingly disenchanted view of combat. Luckett writes in a style where he is not so much "writing at", but "conversing with" the readers, and his genuine love of writing and of his work shows in the care and attention he has payed to portraying his world. A truly enjoyable story.
From the opening senstence, I was hooked. Told in an unconventional first-person perspective, this is High Fantasy as I have never seen it before. Oh, it has all the trimmings: Knights in armour, sword-maidens, goblins, political intrigue and a corrupt prince---but nothing about this book is cliche. The characters, the places, and the philosophies are rendered in exquisite detail. Even so, the details manage to blend into the narrative beautifully. At no point does it feel like infodumping; the details and ideas are worked into the descriptions, the actions and the dialogue with masterful subtlety. This is a truly inspiring artwork which can be enjoyed by any fan of fantasy and speculative fiction.
The thing that catches my interest most about this book is that it's a story of realism. From the mechanics of fighting in full-plate, to the troubles of travelling cross-country on destriers (war-horses), and even the economics of small cities, everything is detailed and realistic. Nothing happens without reason, and the author, through the world-weary narrator, explores many of the implications of the characters' actions both before and after, as well as discussing the nature of evil and of magic, as well as advanced battle stragegies, from melee fighting in the city to defending an ancient fort in siege.
Consider these quotes:
Blood was already running down his arm and onto his grip—good. But he grinned, feeling no pain. Cut, cut, thrust, over the chair, grinnjing like a goblin... But if you're bleeding, it doesn't matter how brave or hopped-up you are. There comes a point where the muscle won't obey. He'd lost blood. Already his strokes felt weaker, and he might have been slowing up...He gargled, and fell straight through the rickety handrail to the floor, where he bounced, soggily, and expired. We all stood and stared at each other. Silvus spoke first. 'Now I'll need a new balustrode,' he complained, between breaths. 'And the gods only know what the cleaning is going to cost.'
I hate destriers. They're the war-horses that knights ride—ugly, big as a working class privy and nasty with it.... You can't create a cavalryman in six days, and anyway rough-country ponies—mules, even—would have been more sensible where we would be going... Another of [the destriers'] less endearing characteristics is the amount they eat, and anyway, defending walls is not a job you give to the mounted.
Tournaments are to war what sweetmeats are toeating. Colourful, pleasant, charming and rich, but you can't live on them.
Then there were four sutlers, a groom each, a farrier, and a half-dozen odds and sods, servants, varlets, and scullions. And a cook. And three carts. Not counting private baggage. That non-combatant tail was why knights are old hat. They were hideously expensive to outfit and maintain, and they were only good for one tactic—the bald-headed charge. Pikemen and archers could stop that, and once stopped, knights were done for.
And my personal favourite from the small selection I had the time to choose from:
I blame the plate [mail]. It makes you feel invulnerable... nobody should feel that cocky... It doesn't matter how well you're armoured if they can get you down, or hold you while they slip a dagger through an eye-slit.
All in all, and I don't want to spoil the brilliant foreshadowing, I recommend this book to all fans of fantasy and speculative fictiopn. It is a witty, realistic and well-planned book that not only takes consequences into account, but follows through with counter-plans and logical, rational thinking, which is something of a rarity amongst the fantasy fiction I've personally read.
Dave Luckett takes the reader on an adventure where instead of feeling 'infodumped' by the sheer amount of detail and technical knowledge, we are immersed more fully in his world, and the world of Will de Parkin, the no-nonsense militiaman-turned-squire; as well as offering an interesting philosophical debate about the nature of magic, evil, and morality in politics, and the influence of power. In such a detailed work as this, you might be forgiven for expecting ponderous prose and bogged-down action sequences. Quite the opposite; the action scenes rush along with a gripping intensity and a a tantalisingly disenchanted view of combat. Luckett writes in a style where he is not so much "writing at", but "conversing with" the readers, and his genuine love of writing and of his work shows in the care and attention he has payed to portraying his world. A truly enjoyable story.