Review: The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien

Middle Earth is on the verge of falling, and Sauron’s vast armies are about to swarm mankind’s last defenses. Only two things can save the world: a lost king returns to his throne, and a little hobbit makes it to Mount Doom.

So needless to say, there’s a lot of tension in “The Return of the King,” the final installment in J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic fantasy Lord of the Rings trilogy. Tolkien builds up the inevitable clash between good and evil in the form of a final apocalyptic war for Middle-Earth – and rather than cheaping out with “and then they all lived happily ever after,” twines in the bittersweet edge of a man who had seen war and evil.

Gandalf and Pippin ride to the city of Minas Tirith, which is about to be attacked by the force of Mordor – and to make things worse, the steward who rules Gondor is going nuts. Merry finds himself in the service to King Theoden of Rohan, where his determination to follow his lord into battle leads him into a terrifying confrontation. And Aragorn is seeking out allies to fight Sauron on a military scale, even if they can’t defeat him unless the Ring is destroyed. His search will take him to tribes of forest-dwellers, to Gondor — and even to summon an army of the dead.

In Mordor, the unconscious Frodo has been captured by Sauron’s orcs, and taken to the fortress of Cirith Ungol. Sam is desperate to free his friend, but knows that he can’t take on an army, and that Frodo would want him to finish the quest. Sam manages to free Frodo from captivity, but they must still brave more dangers before they can come to Mount Doom, the only place where the Ring can be destroyed. As they travel Sam sees Frodo slipping further and further into the Ring’s grasp. Will Frodo be able to destroy the Ring, or will Middle-Earth be lost?

“The Return of the King” is an impressive juggling act, with Tolkien keeping different subplots and character arcs constantly moving around and alongside each other. And as he did in “The Two Towers,” he further expands the world of Middle-Earth, both by introducing new civilizations and by expanding on the rich history that we get only a slight taste of (the undead army that serves Aragorn).

And in this story, we get some gloriously memorable scenes (Eowyn’s stand against the Witch-King, Sam charging into an orc citadel) intertwined with ones that show Tolkien’s love of the little people who occupy his world (Pippin making friends in Minas Tirith). His writing becomes a bit too exalted in places, especially after the war, but in other places it’s rich and compellingly beautiful.

“The Return of the King” is also the grimmest of the three books in this trilogy. Frodo and Sam are stuck in the vividly horrific Mordor, while the city of Minas Tirith is on the verge of completely crumbling. Tolkien does a phenomenal job of exploring the madness, despair, rage and sorrow that accompany a war, and the way it can affect even the idyllic Shire. And he doesn’t forget the slow period of healing that follows – for people, for civilizations, and even for nature.

And the ending has a feeling of finality; Tolkien shows that in a war like this, there is no true “happy ending.” Even if the good guys win, there will still be scarring, and death, and haunting memories of what once happened. And even if a person survives, he will never be the same.

Frodo Baggins is almost unrecognizable in this book – the bright, naive young hobbit has been worn down to a pale shadow of himself, increasingly consumed by the Ring until he threatens his best friend with a dagger. In contrast, Sam has come into his own, showing his own brand of quiet heroism and strength as he does his best to help Frodo get to Mount Doom, even though he’s increasingly sure that they won’t be coming back.

And the supporting characters are not neglected either, with the younger hobbits being exposed to the horrors of war, Aragorn breaking fully into his role as the future king of Gondor, and Legolas and Gimli continuing to be absolutely delightful. One particular standout is passionate war-maiden Eowyn, whose complicated battle with depression and ambition is handled with far more sensitivity than anyone would expect of a book from the 1950s.

It’s difficult, once the story has finished, to accept that one has to say goodbye to Middle-Earth and its enchanting inhabitants. But as Gandalf says, “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.”

Review: The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien

The ending of “The Fellowship of the Ring” left our heroes teetering on the edge of disaster, and the titular fellowship fractured into pieces.

And the narrative itself reflects this in “The Two Towers,” the second volume of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. The story splits into two or three subplots that follow different people from the fellowship, even as new characters and locations are introduced, and the plot focus widens to show the effects of Sauron and Saruman’s tyranny on all of Middle-Earth.

Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas discover that Merry and Pippin have been abducted by orcs, rather than killed, and they set off in pursuit to rescue the two hapless hobbits. But their travels bring them to the land of Rohan, a country ravaged by orc attacks and ruled by a king under an evil spell… and also brings them back in contact with a dear friend whom they had thought was lost forever. Before they can help the hobbits, they’ll need to save Rohan from Saruman’s malevolence.

Merry and Pippin? Well, they have to use all their wits – and quite a bit of luck – to escape the orcs, and find themselves with a strange collection of tree-like allies who might be willing to help them out. If they can get themselves moving, that is.

Meanwhile, Frodo and Sam head into the evil land of Mordor, being shadowed by the last person they wanted to see – Gollum, the former bearer of the Ring. Frodo manages to turn Gollum into their personal guide to Mordor, despite Sam’s belief that the mentally unstable addict might not be trustworthy. The Ring is weighing more heavily than ever on Frodo, and is starting to reassert its old sway on Gollum.

One of the most noticeable changes in this book is the shift of focus. “Fellowship” was Frodo-centric, since the narration revolved around him, as did all the events and thoughts. But with the breaking of the Fellowship, the narration falls into three categories: Frodo and Sam; Merry and Pippin; Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. This triple style allows individuals to shine more brightly, when they are called on to do more than hike with Frodo.

Tolkien also expands our view of Middle Earth, bringing us into the Anglo-Saxon-like kingdom of Rohan and the Sauron-ravaged land of Gondor, and showing us the effects of Sauron’s war. The effects on ordinary humans, on the environment, and on the countries unlucky enough to attract the attention of Dark Lords and evil wizards. And we finally get to Mordor, a toxic wasteland crawling with enemies, Nazgul and giant many-legged nightmares.

Needless to say, the story is a lot darker than the first book, especially as it explores the corrosive effect the Ring has on people’s souls. Characters die or are seriously wounded, and one disturbing scene has Pippin’s mind entrapped and tortured by Sauron. But Tolkien weaves in some levity from time to time, such as Gandalf joking when he hears Saruman throttling Grima Wormtongue, or when Sam debates with Gollum about whether they should cook the rabbits.

And the characters are fleshed out in more detail here, particularly Frodo Baggins. His strength and spirit are still there, but he becomes sadder and more introspective as the Ring begins to take hold of his mind and heart. At the same time, we also glimpse the kind of king that Aragorn is capable of being, if he can only get to his throne. Tolkien also introduces an array of new characters to the cast, such as the noble king Theoden and his lonely, desperately-unhappy niece Eowyn.

But where Tolkien really outdid himself is Gollum. Gollum returns, in a substantially different state. Oh, he’s still addled and addicted to the Ring, but he displays a dual love/loathing for the Ring, a weird affection for Frodo (who, from his point of view, is probably the only person who has been kind to him), and displays a Ring-induced dissociative identity disorder. Very rarely can bad guys elicit the sort of loathing and pity from the reader that Gollum does.

One noticeable aspect of this book is friendship. When the Fellowship sets out from Rivendell, virtually everyone is a stranger, with the exception of the hobbits. However, in this book we get our view of how much Sam loves Frodo and wants to help him. Sam is fully aware of how much Frodo needs emotional support, and he’s quite willing to be a pillar of strength for his friend. We see Gimli and Legolas’s affection for Merry and Pippin; and Legolas’s willingness to kill Eomer if Eomer hurts Gimli shows how far this Elf and Dwarf have come.

The middle volume of the Lord of the Rings trilogy is complex and well-plotted, expanding Tolkien’s fictional world in every direction. And like the first book, “The Two Towers” will leave you desperately grasping for the next book.

Review: The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

There are books that are popular, books that are well-regarded… and then there are books that reshape the very fabric of literature.

J.R.R. Tolkien’s classic “Lord of the Rings” trilogy is in the third category. And while “The Fellowship of the Ring” starts off with the homey pastoral quirkiness from “The Hobbit,” it doesn’t take long for Tolkien to charge into a gripping, sometimes chilling adventure story about the nature of evil and the strength of a little hobbit to defeat it.

We open some sixty years after the events of “The Hobbit” – Bilbo Baggins is older, not much wiser, substantially wealthier, and quite eccentric (one not-so-affectionate nickname is “Mad Baggins”). He has also adopted his bright young cousin Frodo, who was orphaned at a young age and had led a rather fractured life since then. On his 111th birthday, Bilbo suddenly vanishes, leaving behind all his possessions to Frodo — including the golden ring that allows its wearer to become invisible.

Seventeen years later, Gandalf the wizard shows up again on Frodo’s doorstep, and informs the young hobbit that his ring is in fact the One Ring of the Dark Lord Sauron. It inevitably corrupts those who have it, and most of Sauron’s power is invested in it. Trying to deflect danger from the Shire, Frodo leaves with his best friend Sam and his loyal cousins Merry and Pippin. But Frodo has only the slightest idea of the hideous and dangerous journey ahead of him, that will take him across Middle-Earth to the evil land of Mordor.

Many fantasy cliches were spawned from this book, although obviously they weren’t cliches when Tolkien used them. Orcs, elves, dwarves, halflings, sprawling medieval kingdoms, dethroned kings, gray-bearded wizards and evil Dark Lords. But no one will feel that these are stale; on the contrary, they feel fresh and unused, because that is what they were when the book was first penned.

Narrative-wise, this book begins on much the same note as “The Hobbit”: it’s lighter and more cheerful, since it opens in the Shire. But darker undertones begin to crop up in the very first chapter, when Bilbo begins clutching at the Ring and speaking in a Gollum-like manner. The pace is pretty slow and gradual until the hobbits reach Bree, at which point it becomes darker, faster and harsher in tone and pace. The matter in it also becomes more mature, particularly in the chilling scenes after Frodo is stabbed by a Nazgul.

One of the things that Tolkien did exceptionally well is atmosphere. With a minimum of words, he conveys the menace of the Black Riders, the beauty of the Elves, the decay of the ancient kingdom of Moria, the mystery of such characters as Aragorn. In some areas, he deliberately didn’t elaborate on the such things as the Balrog, leaving the visualization up to the readers. Another strong point is a sense of epic proportions. Too often a fantasy writer TRIES to write an epic, at the expense of individual character development. Tolkien managed to balance both of them, by focusing on the individuals in the center of epic struggles.

Frodo himself is the quintessential “little guy” hero, one of the last people whom you’d expect to be on a mission to save the world. He’s prone to moods of either cheerfulness or sadness, a little immature and bored at the beginning, but incredibly brave and stout-hearted when the pressure is put on him. He has no astounding destiny or special powers to help him. He’s simply an ordinary person.

We also have Gandalf, who is fleshed out from the pleasantly crabby wizard of “Hobbit” — we see more of his hidden sides and powers here. And Frodo is surrounded by a well-rounded cast of characters, including his loyal gardener Sam and his charmingly sneaky cousins, as well as a rich fellowship of ethereal Elves, mysterious men and doughty dwarves.

Tolkien spins a spellbinding tale, rich in lore and heavy with atmosphere, and the biggest problem with “The Fellowship of the Ring” is that it ends, leaving you scrabbling for “The Two Towers.” A must-read for fantasy buffs.

Review: The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit.” J.R.R. Tolkien first scribbled down the opening line of this book on an extra sheet of paper.

And years before “Lord of the Rings” was seen by anyone outside Tolkien’s circle, Middle Earth was first introduced to readers. “The Hobbit” is simpler and less epic than the trilogy that followed it, but Tolkien’s brilliant writing, magical world and pleasantly stodgy hero bring a special life to this early fantasy classic. And with the first “Hobbit” movie coming out in a few months, it deserves revisiting.

Bilbo Baggins lives a pleasantly stodgy and dull life, in a luxurious hobbit hole under a hill (“it was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort”). He’s the picture of dull respectability. But his life is turned upside-down by the arrival of the wizard Gandalf and thirteen dwarves, led by the exiled king-in-waiting Thorin Oakenshield. They want to reclaim the Lonely Mountain (and a lot of treasure) from the dragon Smaug. Why do they want Bilbo? Because Gandalf has told them that he’d make a good burglar, even though Bilbo has never burgled in his life.

So before Bilbo is entirely sure what is going on, he is being swept off on a very unrespectable — and dangerous — adventure. The quirky little band ends up battling goblins and spiders, nearly getting eaten, and imprisoned by Elves, while Bilbo finds himself in possession of a magic Ring from the treacherous Gollum. But even with a magic Ring, can he defeat a monstrous dragon and win a war against multiple enemies?

Tolkien had been crafting his mythos of Elves, Dwarves, Wizards and ancient Men for years before he ever came up with Bilbo’s quest. But it’s fortunately that he did, because while “The Hobbit” is overshadowed by the epic sweep of “Lord of the Rings” and the “Silmarillion,” it’s still an entertaining story that lays the groundwork for his more famous works — especially the magical Ring that Bilbo finds in Gollum’s cavern.

Tolkien’s writing is swift, light and full of songs and poetry-laden descriptions, such as interludes in the shimmering, ethereal Rivendell and the cold, terrible Lonely Mountain. The pace in this is much faster than in most of his other works — not surprising, when you consider it was originally a bedtime story for his children.

Most of the book’s action is about Bilbo trying to keep himself and the dwarves from getting eaten, torn apart, or rotting in elf dungeons, but with some quiet interludes like a night at Beorn’s mountain home. And the last chapters hint at the epic majesty that Tolkien was capable of, as well as the idea that even little people — like a mild-mannered hobbit or a bird — can change the world.

This book also first came up with hobbits — the peaceful fuzzy-footed countryfolk — in the form of Bilbo Baggins. He’s a likable little guy, if the last person you’d ever expect to be a hero — initially he seems weak and kind of boring, but his hidden strengths and wits come up to the surface when he needs to. By the end, he’s almost a different person.

The dwarves are more comical, and the elves more whimsical in this book, but the supporting characters are still impressive — the crotchety, mysterious wizard Gandalf, the dignified, flawed Dwarf king Thorin Oakenshield, and a Guardsman who becomes a king. Even minor characters like Beorn, Elrond and the menacing Smaug are given plenty of dimension.

“The Hobbit” started as a fluke, grew into a bedtime story, and became one of the best fantasy stories in literary history — a charming adventure in the time that never was. Brilliant.

Review: Shards of Glass by Michelle Sagara

Disclaimer: “Shards of Glass” is the first volume of a new series by Michelle Sagara, but it takes place in the same universe as her Elantra series, and harkens back to events from that series. So if you haven’t read that series, you’re going to be confused.

And it seemed to open with a lot of promise, since a magic school opens the doors for a lot of exploration of a fantasy world. And considering the magic school is actually alive, has a dragon for a chancellor and a giant spider for a librarian, “Shards of Glass” seems like it has a good basis for a fantasy whodunnit – but it feels like it gets tangled up in its own mysteries and doesn’t explore the Academia itself very much.

An ancient magic school called the Academia has been brought out of hibernation, and contains new students for the first time in centuries. A young homeless girl named Raven is brought there to find her best friend Robin, who is now a student at the Academia and who thought she would be happy and safe there. Unfortunately, she arrives just in time for a murder – and discovers a piece of glass under the body. In case you’re wondering, Raven collects pieces of glass, metal, and whatever other “treasures” catch her fancy.

But this is no ordinary glass – not only was it invisible before Raven picked it up, but it burns the hands of the Academia’s avatar, Killian. And as more mysterious murders pile up, Robin and the faculty of the Academia discover more mysterious, extremely dangerous glass and metal. They also have more questions about exactly who Raven is and what powers she has, as she might be the key to figuring out exactly what is trying to destroy the Academia.

The Academia itself is perhaps the weakest element of “Shards of Glass” – precisely because we don’t know much about it. Despite being a school of magic, we only meet a few students, don’t know much about what they teach, and don’t know much about daily life there. Michelle Sagara seems more intrigued by the idea of a living campus and immortal library being infiltrated by inexplicable powers. Fair enough, it is interesting. But it feels like we don’t know the Academia enough to worry about its possible destruction.

Instead, Sagara focuses on the whodunnit aspects of the plot, both the murderous and the magical. Her writing is solid and fairly atmospheric, although the characters tend to repeat things a lot (such as the glass not being visible until Raven got it). It’s only at the two-thirds mark that things start to coalesce and the many oddities – both with Raven and the attacks – are given some kind of answers, and the tension amps up as we find out more about what’s going on.

Raven herself is an interesting character – she has some traits in common with autistic people like highly individual priorities, issues with communication and single-minded focus. Yet it becomes clear soon after that her traits are the result of something else, and she herself isn’t what she seems. Robin seems like a fairly generic character, but similarly we learn that he’s not what he seems. Then there’s the eccentric Barrani Terrano, the draconic chancellor, the temperamental professor Larrantin, and the giant spider-librarian Starrante.

“Shards of Glass” takes a while to pull itself together, but once it does, Michelle Sagara’s spinoff book has some truly gripping twists and developments. For fans of her Chronicles of Elantra series, this would be a treat.

Review: Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 7

The malevolent White No Face has returned, forced Xie Lian to relive the most horrifying experiences of his long life, and locked him inside the Kiln. Amazingly, that is nowhere near as bad as things are going to get for the good guys.

But one thing that can’t be denied is that the seventh volume of “Heaven Official’s Blessing” is the most insane and wild volume to date, with Mo Xiang Tong Xiu unleashing her fertile imagination in all sorts of grandiose, sometimes bizarre ways. At the same time, she reveals the series’ most shocking plot twist, and explores the horrifying backstory of just what White No Face is, what shaped him into the monster he has become, and why he’s so obsessed with Xie Lian.

Trapped in the Kiln, Xie Lian faces off against White No-Face – and ends up breaking free in an awesome, spectacular manner that I won’t spoil here. He’s reunited with Hua Cheng and his friends and tries to escape the erupting Mount Tonglu – but the tormented souls of the people of Wuyong escape the volcano, threatening a new plague of Human Face Disease on the world. Xie Lian, Hua Cheng and their allies – along with a few familiar faces from along the way – are all that stand between the human world and horrifying mayhem.

But that’s nothing compared to what happens when Xie Lian learns the terrifying truth of who White No-Face really is, and how and why the ghost has been stalking him for hundreds of years. Furthermore, his enemy has even more power than he ever suspected – enough to topple Heaven and overwhelm even the most powerful of gods. Xie Lian will need some help to even hope to defeat him and save humanity from a plague – not just from Hua Cheng, but from friends, enemies and total strangers.

It’s very difficult to praise “Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 7” in specific terms, simply because it requires me to praise its colossal plot twist and the immense payoff of… well, the entire story so far. It’s hard to do that without giving away White No-Face’s secrets and identities, as well as the question of why he dedicated so much time and energy to tormenting Xie Lian, because MXTX did a masterful job of surprising audiences with the many answers to the questions raised over the course of her story. It’s exceptional, and it should be read blindly so you can be surprised.

That also applies to some of the massive, imaginative developments in this extended climax, worthy of a blockbuster movie scripted by a crazed genius. While a lot of it involves sneaking around, mass curbstomps and a very long exposition scene involving Xianle’s state preceptor, MXTX throws in some gloriously over-the-top, wildly imaginative scenes. Like the fiery city-mechan. Or a Statue-of-Liberty-sized divine statue flying into space, fueled by kisses and drawn by butterflies and lanterns. I am not making that up. It actually happens. It’s glorious.

At the same time, she spins up a web of lies, answers, complicated backstories, bloody action, a very sad seeming-death, and some bursts of slightly frenetic comedy (Quan Yizhen beating up Qi Rong with his own statue). Everything comes to a climactic boiling point as just about everything up until now – corpse-eating rats, ghost garments, fetus ghosts, volcanoes and magic evil-revealing swords – comes back into the story with a distinct purpose. Same with the characters, reintroducing everyone from Pei Ming’s crazed stalker to Xie Lian’s eccentric mentor.

With all this stuff going on, the romance could have easily been lost in the shuffle, but MXTX mixes in countless little tender moments between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, made all the more endearing by Hua Cheng’s mischievous flirtations and Xie Lian’s giggling nervousness. It’s very cute, and MXTX stuffs a little fluff into every crevice in the story where it can fit, even if it’s just Hua Cheng sitting next to Xie Lian while he listens to exposition.

“Heaven Official’s Blessing Volume 7” hurtles towards the grand finale like a freight train – full of wildly apocalyptic action, charming romance and explanations for just about everything. And the ride ain’t over yet.

Review: The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm

The Inheritance Cycle ended with a number of loose threads left flapping in the breeze, and the door wide open for more adventures in Alagaesia.

And Christopher Paolini has started telling those adventures in “The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm,” a trio of short stories nested in early stories about Eragon’s new home. While it likely won’t grip fans of the series the way the original books did — these are basically stories within a fairly sedate framework — Paolini’s writing has matured somewhat, and he tells the tales here with more steadiness and assuredness than in his past works.

A year has passed, and Eragon is living in a new mountain fortress being created for a new generation of Dragon-Riders. The problems and new responsibilities are weighing on him, so at Saphira’s insistence, he spends some time with the Eldunari. The dragons’ hearts show him events unfolding elsewhere in Alagaesia — a small girl encounters a mysterious (yet familiar) traveler who advises her on how to deal with bullies… right before they both find themselves in a deadly confrontation. It involves a fork.

Then that winter, Angela the herbalist arrives at Eragon’s new home, bringing with her Elva the accursed witch-child — and her autobiography (written by the author’s sister, Angela Paolini), which reveals her experiences with Elva. Finally, a tragic accident at Mount Arngor leaves Eragon unhappy and tired, which leads to him being told a story by the Urgals — the tale of an Urgal girl’s quest for revenge against the vicious dragon that killed her father.

“The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm” seems to be Paolini preparing to expand his fictional universe, perhaps only through short stories or perhaps through more full-length novels. Through these stories, he not only catches up with the characters left from the previous four books — Eragon, Murtagh, Angela and Elva — but he also hints at new and terrible villains to be explored later.

But fans are unlikely to be satisfied by this, because Eragon’s role is mostly just to sit around and listen to other people tell him things. He doesn’t even interact much with Saphira. Also, about half the book is taken up by the Urgal story, which has limited appeal.

Paolini’s writing is decent here — while not entirely mature, his writing has some nice turns of phrase (“Black as charred bone, with a polished gleam to his fitted scales and a throat packed with fire”) as well as some that could have used an editor’s pen (“A slight twinge of heartsickness formed in his chest”). His sister’s writing, alas, is not as good; I found myself skimming through most of it.

Eragon is fairly steady and a little more mature in this volume, although he’s still ridiculously overpowered (he manages to not only lift a collapsed tunnel’s broken rocks, but instantly reassembles them). Saphira is a fairly small presence here, compared to characters like Ilgra the sorcerous Urgal, and a small girl named Essie who has been bullied and blackmailed by a popular girl, only to find out how nasty and frightening other people can truly be.

The trio of stories in “The Fork, the Witch, and the Worm” are reasonably readable little tales that return readers to Alagaesia — seemingly just as the warm-up for some new adventures for Eragon and his allies. Fluffy, but not too bad.

Review: Theft of Swords by Michael J. Sullivan

Royce the thief and Hadrian the swordsman are known as Ririya — for the right price, and given enough time, they can steal pretty much anything.

They are also the last people you would expect to be suddenly in the middle of a massive political and religious war, but that is what happens in “Theft of Swords,” the first of Michael J. Sullivan’s Riyria Revelations omnibi, which compiles the first two books of his epic fantasy series. Rather than overstuffed mythology or dark-and-gritty realism, Sullivan crafts a tale with most of the fantasy tropes which somehow manages to feel fresh, fun and complicated.

In “The Crown Conspiracy, a foppish noble hires Royce and Hadrian to steal a legendary dueling sword… but when they get to the place where it’s hidden, they don’t find a sword. They find the king’s corpse instead. In a matter of minutes, the two find themselves framed for the king’s murder, and the enraged Prince Alric orders them gruesomely executed the very next day. Fortunately for the pair, Princess Arista knows that someone else killed her father, and she fears that soon the same person will assassinate her brother.

So she is willing to free them, with the stipulation that they kidnap Alric for his own safety, and take him to someone named Esrahaddon. Given the choice between death and babysitting a bratty new king, Royce and Hadrian decide to drag the king on a road trip, but they quickly discover that they are being hunted. And they also learn that this conspiracy to seize the crown has a lot more elements than a simple assassination…

In “Avempartha,” Royce and Hadrian are approached by Thrace, a young girl from the village of Dahlgren, which is being ravaged by an unseen monster. They end up coming with her, because she was sent by a “Mr Haddon,” aka the long-imprisoned wizard Esrahaddon. When the thieves arrive in Dahlgren, they find a broken community haunted by the deaths of loved ones, and constantly threatened by nightly attacks.

Even better, Esrahaddon reveals that the monster is an unkillable magical weapon. The only way to destroy it is a magic sword INSIDE the tower. Which is on a cliff. Surrounded by a very deep river. With no way in. But more complications arise when the Novron Church sends representatives to oversee a strange contest — the person who successfully slays the Gilarabrywn will be considered the Heir of Novron.

Most high fantasy these days falls into two basic categories:
– Derivative of Tolkien, where the author chokes the story on excessive worldbuilding that the story doesn’t actually need.
– Derivative of Martin, where the author bogs down the story on grim, dark grittiness until it’s no longer entertaining.

And what makes “Theft of Swords” so charming is that it isn’t like either of these. Sullivan embraces a lot of fantasy tropes and cliches (elves, dwarves, wizards, Europeanish medievalish culture), but the story he spins out of them is oddly refreshing. He weaves out a genuinely epic story, based on centuries of fictional history and complex international politics, but the story itself stays a pretty intimate affair. And he imbues it with a sense of history, as Esrahaddon laments that a land that once thrived on culture, technology and magic has fallen into stolid ignorance and primitivism. It gives the feeling of a once-great civilization that has decayed, and its history is mostly forgotten.

It’s also pretty fun to read — Sullivan’s prose is nimble and quick-moving, with lots of clever dialogue (“It’s my first day.” “And already I am trapped in a timeless prison. I shudder to think what might have happened if you had a whole week”), wild battles (especially against the Gilarabrywn), schemes from religious and political figures, and the brewing sense that a wider war involving the elves is about to bloom. And despite the seriousness of the situation, he weaves in some quirky humor (a dramatic heroic confrontation between a knight and the Gilarabrywn… ends with the knight getting anticlimactically flattened).

Hadrian and Royce have a touch of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser about them, but these are very distinct characters on their own — one a dark, mysterious thief with a rather cruel outlook and a murky past, and the other a soft-hearted mercenary who totes around three swords and has an ancient fighting style. They’re confident, smart and spend their free time hanging out with the beautiful local madam (whom Royce clearly carries a torch for), a rough bartender, and an assortment of rogues and weirdos.

And the supporting characters are equally interesting — Alric starts out as a bratty prince, but slowly matures into a good king as he realizes what must be done to save his country. The timid monk Myron provides plenty of comic relief (“They are even prettier than horses”) but also a poignancy and innocence, and there’s also the mysterious handless wizard Esrahaddon and the strong-willed, magic-using princess Arista.

“Theft of Swords” is a solid, thoroughly enjoyable pair of high fantasy novels, which manage to tell entertaining adventure yarns even as they set the stage for a much bigger, more epic conflict. One of the most entertaining, fresh and cleverly-written fantasy series in years.

Review: Heaven Official’s Blessing: Season 1

Once upon a time, Xie Lian was the beloved crown prince of a beautiful kingdom, who ascended to godhood in his teens. But then he interfered in mortal affairs, made things worse, and was cast out. He ascended to godhood a second time… and was kicked out again.

And in “Heaven Official’s Blessing: Season 1,” we find out what happens when this unfortunate godling ascends to deityhood for the third time. This donghua series (think anime, but Chinese) based on Mo Xiang Tong Xiu’s novels of the same name, is a slow-burn that mingles romance with a uniquely Chinese brand of high fantasy, where the powerful or virtuous can become deities, but the tormented and tragic may become something else.

Upon his third ascension to godhood, Xie Lian discovers that nothing has really changed – he’s deeply in debt, and none of the other gods like or respect him. The usual way to pay off his debt is by receiving merits from the worship of mortals… except people stopped worshiping him eight hundred years ago. But there is another way – he can investigate a certain mysterious problem on a rural mountain, where seventeen brides have been abducted by a mysterious “ghost groom.”

With the assistance of the sulky, combative Fu Yao and Nan Feng, he goes undercover to find out what is abducting the girls – and ends up being escorted up the mountain by a handsome, mysterious stranger dressed all in red, who turns into a swarm of silver butterflies. But that man was NOT the ghost groom – which leaves Xie Lian to uncover the horror that lives atop the mountain. To make matters worse, the locals are also searching for the ghost groom, which only makes things more complicated when things inevitably go pear-shaped.

After that, Xie Lian decides to set up a shrine to himself in an abandoned shack, with the help of a young man named San Lang, who is very obviously not what he pretends to be. But trouble finds Xie Lian again when someone tries to trick him into going to the Half Moon Pass in the Gobi desert, near the dead city-state of Banyue. Even weirder, the other gods seem to avoid talking about this.

Along with San Lang, Fu Yao and Nan Feng, he sets out to the pass to find out what’s going on there, and ends up encountering a sandstorm, a few dozen merchants… and a cave full of scorpion-snakes. But that’s only the beginning of the undying terrors that still dwell in Banyue, killing anyone unlucky enough to pass through. And soon Xie Lian realizes that someone in Banyue has a very strong connection to him.

I personally like my romance stories with a heavy dose of plot, which makes “Heaven Official’s Blessing” perfectly balanced – even if the slow-blooming romance weren’t part of the story, it would still be a solid fantasy-horror series with gods, ghosts, goblins, zombies, and a really freaky undead face in the ground. The ethereal beauty of the lead characters and their sparkling heavens is a stark contrast to the nightmarish creatures that lurk in the mortal world below.

It’s also a fantasy that feels distinct from its anime cousins – its world and cosmology are uniquely Chinese, drawing heavily from Taoism and other Chinese beliefs. The two supernatural mysteries are pretty well-developed, both horrifying and yet tragic, and the stories occasionally slow down a little for either some mild comic relief (Fu Yao and Nan Feng’s constant fighting) or an ethereal romantic moment between Xie Lian and his mysterious red-clad man of the silver butterflies.

The animation is quite lovely for the most part, with some really beautiful moments standing out in the Puqi Temple or when the red-clad man escorts Xie Lian up the mountain. The only area where it falls down is when CGI is inserted, usually where it’s not needed. It’s very clunky.

Xie Lian is an easy character to like – perpetually unlucky and unpopular, yet unfailingly earnest and kind to everyone around him (as long as they don’t beat up girls). Howard Wang gives him a low-key, soothing kind of voice even when he’s upset. The mysterious Hua Cheng (whose identity is blatantly obvious) makes for a solid love interest, and the cast is rounded out by Fu Yao and Nan Feng, a couple of clashing, abrasive young men who actually do care about the disgraced prince.

“Heaven Official’s Blessing: Season 1” is an animated show that perfectly balances out a slow-growing romance, beautiful animation, and solid fantasy/horror. For those seeking an alternative to anime, this might do the trick.

Review: Lord of the Rings Movie Trilogy

J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” trilogy was considered unfilmable for a very long time – the story was too big, too fantastical.

But in the late 1990s, New Zealand director Peter Jackson got the green light to shoot the “Lord of the Rings” movie trilogy: a sprawling fantasy epic that chronicles the tipping point of the mythical Middle-Earth, and the humble hobbits who change the world. The richness of J.R.R. Tolkien’s world is translated exquisitely into a movie trilogy full of beauty, horror, hope, humor and vibrant characters.

“The Fellowship of the Ring” introduces us to the hobbits. Eccentric old Bilbo Baggins (Ian Holm) leaves the peaceful Shire at his 111st birthday, leaving all he has to his young nephew Frodo (Elijah Wood) — including a golden Ring that makes the wearer invisible. But the grey wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellen) reveals that it’s actually the One Ring, which is the source of power for the demonic Dark Lord Sauron. So Frodo and his best pals leave the Shire and join a band of elves, men, and dwarves to take the Ring to the only place where it can be destroyed.

“The Two Towers” picks up immediately after “Fellowship” ends, with Frodo and Sam (Sean Astin) lost on the path to Mordor, and being stalked by the murderous Ring-junkie Gollum (Andy Serkis). Elsewhere, Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), Legolas (Orlando Bloom), and Gimli (John Rhys-Davies) make a desperate stand with the kingdom of Rohan, but must face off against the evil wizard Saruman (Christopher Lee) and his orc armies.

“Return of the King” brings the trilogy to a dizzying head: Frodo and Sam’s friendship is threatened by Gollum’s trickery, leading Frodo into a potential fatal trap. Gandalf and Pippin head for the city of Gondor, while Aragorn summons an ancient army that might be able to turn the tide against Mordor. But no matter how many battles they win, the war will never be won if Frodo is not able to destroy the Ring once and for all.

J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” is one of those stories that is too big to fit into one movie – it’s almost too big to fit into three. While Jackson had to streamline the story considerably, the heart of the original novels is still there, with its message about how misfortunes can become blessings, and even the smallest and least imposing person can change the world. Despite the richness of the world-building and the complexity of the characters, it all boils down to that.

Changes are certainly made, such as altering and adding to the characters of Arwen and Faramir, as well as obviously having to leave a lot of events and characters out. Certainly the trilogy doesn’t need Tom Bombadil. But the overall story is remarkably faithful to Tolkien’s tale, and Jackson’s script with partner Philippa Boyens is a masterpiece of storytelling – full of humor and dramatic moments, adapting Tolkien’s richly-archaic prose into powerful speeches (such as Sam’s powerful final speech in “The Two Towers”).

Furthermore, it’s a beautifully-constructed movie – the exquisite sets and expansive New Zealand landscapes are breathtaking; the battle scenes are bloody and exciting; the different cultures of Middle-Earth feel deep and well-lived-in. All the trappings — clothes, jewelry, even beer mugs — are realistic. And the special effects are almost entirely convincing-looking, especially the gruesome Gollum. He’s the first fully convincing CGI character, and after awhile you’ll forget he is made digitally.

It also has a cast who give the performance of their lives – Elijah Wood as the wide-eyed, wounded Frodo Baggins; Sean Astin as his steadfast best friend Sam, who supports him no matter what happens; and Dominic Monaghan and Billy Boyd as the mischievous but brave Merry and Pippin. Ian McKellen’s Gandalf is the prototypical wizard – kindly and grandfatherly, but capable of anger and fear when confronted by the Ring – and Viggo Mortensen is outstanding as the noble king-in-waiting Aragorn. Orlando Bloom and John Rhys-Davies round out the cast as the elegant elf Legolas and doughty, down-to-earth dwarf Gimli – and there are a bunch of other great performances by actors such as Christopher Lee, Sean Bean, Liv Tyler, Hugo Weaving, Cate Blanchett, Miranda Otto, and many many more.

The extended versions of the movies are even better than the theatrical versions — plenty of cut scenes that fill out the characters and plotline are put back in. As a result, the extended versions cleave more closely to the original books. Not to mention TV specials, featurettes, cast commentary on everything in the movies, Sean Astin’s sweet little short film “The Long and Short of It,” and extensive behind-the-scenes footage that will inform viewers about special effects, sets, direction, and everyday life filming “Lord of the Riings.”

The movie adaptations of “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy are classics for a reason – while they have some flaws, Peter Jackson managed to adapt a brilliant story into brilliant, beloved movies. Powerful, gripping and full of beauty.