Wordcount of popular (and hefty) epics

Will now move HERE.

If you are curious, here some samples. The numbers are approximate and should omit indexes, appendices and stuff not directly belonging to the text itself.

Discrepancies are often due to the fact that Microsoft Word consider “it’s” like one word, instead my data is measured considering it as “it is”, so two words. This can usually add a plus 5-10k compared to Microsoft Word wordcount.

Lord of the Rings – J. R. R. Tolkien (revised to be in line with the rest)

The Fellowship of the Ring: 187k
The Two Towers: 155k
The Return of the King: 131k

Total: 473k

Wheel of Time – Robert Jordan

The Eye of the World: 305k
The Great Hunt: 267k
The Dragon Reborn: 251k
The Shadow Rising: 393k
The Fires of Heaven: 354k
Lord of Chaos: 389k
A Crown of Swords: 295k
The Path of Daggers: 226k
Winter’s Heart: 238k
Crossroads of Twilight: 271k
Knife of Dreams: 315k

Total: 3M 304k (official count)

Stormlight Archives – Brandon Sanderson

The Way of Kings: 387k (official count)

A Song of Ice And Fire – George R. R. Martin

A Game of Thrones: 298k
A Clash of kings: 326k
A Storm of Swords: 424k
A Feast for Crows: 300k
A Dance with Dragons: 422k

Total: 1M 770k

Malazan Book of the Fallen – Steven Erikson

Gardens of the Moon: 209k
Deadhouse Gates: 272k
Memories of Ice: 358k
House of Chains: 306k
Midnight Tides: 270k
The Bonehunters: 365k
Reaper’s Gale: 386k
Toll the Hounds: 392k
Dust of Dreams: 382k
The Crippled God: 385k

Total: 3M 325k

Forge of Darkness series/Trilogy:

Volume 1: 292k (very tentative)

Esslemont:

Night of Knives: 88k
Return of the Crimson Guard: 278k
Stonewielder: 237k

Prince of Nothing (and rest) – R. Scott Bakker

The Darkness that Comes Before: 175k
The Warrior-Prophet: 205k
The Thousandfold Thought: 139k

Total: 519k

The Judging Eye: 151k
The White-Luck Warrior: 200k~

A Land Fit for Heroes(?) – Richard Morgan

The Steel Remains: 146k
The Cool Commands: 171k

The Wars of Light and Shadow – Janny Wurts

Curse of the Mistwraith: 233k
Ships of Merior: 206k
Warhost of Vastmark: 156k
Fugitive Prince: 220k
Grand Conspiracy: 235k
Peril’s Gate: 300k
Traitor’s Knot: 220k
Stormed Fortress: 248k

Total: 1M 818k

The Night’s Dawn Trilogy – Peter F. Hamilton

The Reality Dysfunction: 385k
The Neutronium Alchemist: 393k
The Naked God: 469k (!)

Total: 1M 247k

Baroque+Crypto – Neal Stephenson

Cryptonomicon: 415k

Quicksilver: 390k
The Confusion: 348k
The System of the World: 387k

Total: 1M 540k

The Dark Tower – Stephen King

The Gunslinger: 55k
The Drawing of the Three: 128k
The Waste Lands: 178k
Wizard and Glass: 264k
Wolves of the Calla: 251k
Song of Susannah: 131k
The Dark Tower: 288k

Total: 1M 295k

Infinite Jest – David Foster Wallace

– 575k

Updated: 27 Oct 2011

Toll The Hounds in Mass Market

Transworld site updated today.

The Mass Market UK edition of Toll the Hounds is coming out the 9 April, meaning that it will likely be available on Amazon and retail a few days earlier.

Not only this is great news because I like to watch at a nice stack of 8 books all in the same format, but also because with this version should also come the prologue to “Dust of Dreams”, aka the beginning of the end.

The page count of this book is exactly like the previous, so 1280 pages.

Memories of Ice – Steven Erikson

Third book in the series. I started reading it with very high expectations. I knew from forums’ discussions and reviews that this third book was considered the highest peak in the whole series. I came from the previous two that I loved and, especially, after being AWED by the three novellas of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach. Those that won me over and got my unconditional love for Erikson. The difference is that before I came to the books with expectations to match, after having read the novellas I’m now ready to put aside what “I’d like and expect to read” and just let Erikson bring me where he wants. I’ve learned to respect and admire his work and forget the pettish critical eye of the always skeptic.

When I turned the last page I had three thoughts going around in my mind. The first is a sense of emptiness that isn’t new to me when I finish a book that I’ve been reading for a long time. This book has accompanied me for the better part of four months, reading slowly but regularly as is my habit. When I close the book I have this feeling of emptiness, of characters that I’ve learned to know that remain in my head like echoes, lingering feelings. Like trails whose source I’m starting to forget. I know well this feeling and I know its name: it’s nostalgia. For me it starts as soon as I turn the last page. This time there is so much to remember that the feeling was amplified and leading into another: there is nothing left to read. I mean, there’s so much in this book that it leaves you feeling like you’ve read everything. There’s nothing else that could be written. Like a big “the end”. It’s over. The book embraced everything. Like Iktovian, Erikson seems to say, “I am done”.

This is epic fantasy. The embodiment of the abstraction. This book is like a shell, through which you can hear the sea. That’s the magic. It leads to something unexpected and shows you things vividly. Those last 150 pages are so filled with emotions, so inspired that they feel intimidating now. It’s only after those 150 pages that you understand where Erikson was going, you see the ultimate end. Three books to get there.

But I also have to say that I made this happen. While I read daily 15-20 pages for those four months, for the last 170 pages I sat comfortably on my couch and read without interruption from 1AM to past 5. In complete silence. This is something I consider like an obligation. Reading a book is a one-time event. Unrepeatable. It’s a gift that I don’t want wasted and so tried to get in the best way possible.

That feeling of emptiness, absolute fulfillment and nostalgia was the dominant one. Then I thought that it was unbelievable. Imagining in retrospective, the author that is about to write the first page, and is thinking about the last. You look back now that it’s over, and it’s simply impossible. This is not a human endeavor, it’s just crazy. Insane. It’s unbelievable the goals he set, it’s unbelievable how he wrote page after page, it’s unbelievable where he arrived. A mix of genius, insanity and carelessness. And, obviously, awe on my side.

Third on the stream of thoughts, was my surprise about a particular aspect. Throughout the book I saw one of his goals and believed it impossible. On the forums I even explained and discussed this point. Often Erikson deals with feelings and concepts that transcend the human level. In order to make a reader “feel” you have to use something that “resonates”. Something that we have in common. Something archetypal that we all know and share, and that we could impersonate again. That’s the only way you reach an emotional level in every form of art. If you read the forums the common complaint about Erikson is that his characters fail to really reach the heart, so it’s easier to appreciate the books through the mind than through the heart. Even his writing style is more rationally involving than is emotionally. In this particular case I’m talking about within the book, Erikson tries to convey a feeling of endless despair that belongs to the T’lan Imass (an undead race in the book). So I was explaining on the forums that I can appreciate Erikson’s goals, I can enjoy what he wants to do and be awed, but this will only work on the rational level since I’m just unable to “connect” with an alien race like the T’lan Imass. At various points in the book Erikson tries to “force” the feeling, and instead I felt like it wasn’t quite working. It was a best effort, but it just wasn’t possible and so felt somewhat “blunt” and failing in the end. Well, the end of the book was able to achieve fully what I felt as impossible. Throughout the whole book it seemed that Erikson was rinsing and repeating, forcing something that wasn’t working well. With the end of the book he succeeds. Those feelings passed through without losing completely those alien traits. The book made me live something that was utmost unique. That single aspect.

That’s why I think the book is the embodiment of epic. It’s insanely ambitious, sets goals impossible to reach, staggering. And gets there. “I am done”. And it’s because he is done that I wonder where he found the energies to write further. There isn’t anything else to write. It’s over. This book reads as the final chapter. The hanging threads are superfluous sophistications that may as well stay there floating in potential. I read book 1, intrigued, though the ending was rushed and too forced in its spectacularity. I had my mind filled with questions that I wanted answered (as after watching an episode of Lost). I started reading book 2 to get my answers. Loved Heboric because as an historian he was the symbol of all my longings. By half of this second book I got most of my answers. By the end of the book all those answers were turned on their head and all my theories fell apart. In fact I was upset because I didn’t think the plot was going to make sense. Too many contradictions. Besides, the last 250 pages weren’t written as well as the rest of the book. The usual convergence felt again a bit too rushed and two of the three plot lines were dull in the way they were presented (as usual I explained this better in the comments to the book). Great book nonetheless, but I was still there longing for answers and to start making sense of the whole thing. Then I read the novellas that suprised me for all different reasons. No more caring much for the intricacies of the plot, but being awed by the *writing* itself, the sheer creativity and surprises at every page. A careful masterpiece, word by word, in a completely different way from the other broader books. I started this third book to get back to the hanging plots left by book 1, once again to get my answers. By half of it I got most of my answers, by the end of it, I didn’t care anymore.

While reading through book 1, 2 and most of the third I was wondering why there weren’t more discussions on the forums about the mysteries and hidden plots. The great majority of readers are much further with the books so I believed that they OUGHT to know more about what I wanted to know. Instead not only they didn’t, but in many cases they didn’t have any clue about *what I was asking*. Like if I was reading an entirely different thing. Well, it was true. There are two aspects to consider. One is that this series is like a parallel to Lost, the TV series. Both use some of the same tricks and Erikson uses some of them even better. One of the tricks is to force the attention of the reader onto something else. You fill a first part with mysteries, then continue to shift the focus till the reader/spectator is enthralled by brand new mysteries and forgets about the firsts. Erikson does some of this through some kind of chinese boxes, and it works great. What you think was a mystery onto itself, reveals to be part of a MUCH bigger tapestry. The box contained in a much bigger box, and the bigger box into another. Those questions and mysteries kind of fall to irrelevance when you realize that all you got was nothing in the bigger picture and you were trying to put together a puzzle of 5000 pieces by matching together just an handful. If you look for Agatha Christie kind of flawless weaving you are going to be disappointed as it is very likely that some of the pieces are mistakes and not just masterful misdirection (and multiple level of meaning, something Erikson does well), but the way he manages these unexpected transitions from a lower level to an emergent one is eminently enjoyable. It’s also with this third book that something changes. In book 1 and 2 you were just trusting the writer and just add more pieces to a borderless puzzle. It was pure chaos as there was nothing conventional or expected. A blank board with a stream of pieces coming in, the reason why most readers are welcomed with absolute confusion and bafflement. The third book instead starts to fill the gaps. After having drawn the horizon, you start to grasp the big picture and “belong” more to the world Erikson created. So starting to understand the pieces, recognize them and play with them. I was saying how the mysteries “escalate” to upper levels so broad that the details fade out, and how Erikson diverts the attention to new “live” threads, making others less important. Secondly, and here we come to the point, it succeeds where he was failing. Characters, emotions. After working so much on the rational level he finally succeeds to bring the characters to the front, and with the ending of this third book all of the sophistications of the plots that crowded my thoughts during the previous books became suddenly less relevant. I wasn’t thinking anymore about why Dujek was contradicting Laseen, or who killed who during the sieges of Pale. I was thinking instead of the characters and the sense of emptiness (nostalgia) they left in me. I was there sharing something with them.

After this endless stream of unbelievable praises do I think the book is flawless? Well, if I have to rate it, it would score a perfect. Simply because it is a success on what it wants to be, and what it wants to be is something I’ll remember for a long time. It doesn’t mean that the book is perfect, but that the problems fade out and I don’t consider them as relevant as in the previous books. For most of this third book I thought that the writing quality and style was overall a little below of book 2 (or at least book 2 minus two plots at the end of the book as I explained in that commentary), I also thought that if I had to rank them I’d put the second on top. That before reaching the end of the third book. Now I really couldn’t put this third book below and I understand all those readers who think that it’s the highest peak of the series. Deadhouse Gates has an overall better execution, beautifully written, but the ambition (and payoff) behind it just can’t compare with what Erikson does here.

There are other aspects I can criticize. The book is, shortly put, wasteful. To those who think that books this long (1100 pages) are unnecessary, I’ll say that these are not 1100 pages written by a writer who’s trying to fill 1100 pages. These are 1100 pages written by someone who’s trying to *squeeze* into them all he has in his mind. The pacing of the book is relentless and those pages without action are the pages that in the end are more important and filled with revelations (so moving the plot). I say this is wasteful because there’s just too much. While the end works on its own and justifies the journey, for the first half of the book Erikson wastes a number of valid ideas without playing them to their full potential. He fires them into the air clumsily and brings them down shortly after. He wastes opportunities. He builds up mysteries only to spoil them two pages later (if not on the same page). The pacing is so sustained that you have no time to let characters and feeling linger enough. A case of excessive creativity and drive. In retrospective I now understand better where this “urge” came from. There was to much to do for the destination that he already had an insane number of balls to juggle in the air. As I said, this book is insane.

At some point halfway through the book there’s an idea extremely interesting. One of the main characters has a crisis of faith and starts to question what he believes in. His words are pure beauty and deep. This is also an extremely important transition in the plot. I’ll quote it again:

And perhaps that is the final, most devastating truth. The gods care nothing for ascetic impositions on moral behaviour. Care nothing for rules of conduct, for the twisted morals of temple priests and monks. Perhaps indeed they laugh at the chains we wrap around ourselves – our endless, insatiable need to find flaws within the demands of life. Or perhaps they do not laugh, but rage at us. Perhaps our denial of life’s celebration is our greatest insult to those whom we worship and serve.

The character here has made a vow to his god and is now wondering if the gods are really caring about these demonstration of faith. Maybe that vow is instead an insult to the gods, what he calls a “denial of life’s celebration”. Why life shouldn’t be experienced fully? Why “our endless, insatiable need to find flaws within the demands of life”? It’s beautiful not just because of how it was written, but because those words have depth, truth (and not, like Gene Wolfe, just a way to “adorn” in fancy, sophisticate words a simple concept).

‘You question your vows.’
‘I do, sir. I admit to doubting their veracity.’
‘Has it been your belief, Shield Anvil, that your rules of conduct has existed to appease Fener?’
Iktovian frowned as he leaned on the merlon and stared out at the smoke-wreathed enemy camps. ‘Well, yes-‘
‘Then you have lived under a misapprehension, sir.’

I won’t spoil the solution of this passage, but I’ll use it as a concrete example of how Erikson doesn’t play many of his ideas to their full potential. This whole transition and character development (and resolution) I’ve hinted here is contained in TWO PAGES. It is beautiful, deep, not at all simple. Filled with potential and interest to my eyes. Kept me glued to the book. But completely contained in 2 pages among 1100. This is the pacing of this book. All the book is like that, filled with different threads and crazy ideas that come and go page after page. Every page is a pivotal point and this rhythm so sustained becomes somewhat detrimental as there’s no way to make all these things “settle” in the mind of the reader. Once again, familiarize.

This is what lead me to write that other commentary about character development. Without “slices of life” or time to familiarize, the readers will feel disconnected from the characters in the book. If deep transitions and shift of motivations happen in the space of two pages, like the Iktovian example here, then it will be hard for the reader to relate to them and share/understand their feelings. At the same time this is a strength for Erikson. His unique style. The journey isn’t a typical, already seen one, the characters aren’t conventional, and they develop in unpredictable ways that demand a big effort to the reader in order to keep the pace and understand this type of complexity. Lacking the redundancy that is typical of the genre (these days I’m reading Goodkind and the parts of it that work well work exactly because of the redundancy). The more I think about the book now that I read it from beginning to end, the more I realize that there wasn’t any other way to write it.

Typical deus ex machina associated with Erikson are part of this case. There are many in this book. They make sense, are part of the world. But the tapestry is so broad and the threads so disparate that when it all comes together in the end you can’t avoid the feeling that all of that was “guided”. This will annoy purists, but in this case the “intent” is itself the reward. There wasn’t any other way. This story told itself. The hand “driving” plot threads and characters along isn’t an intrusion, but just the way the story told itself in the way it should. Iktovian is an example because Erikson builds the character through the book to “get there”. There wasn’t any other way to do it. “Destiny” as a destination that ultimately follows a sequence of steps. Similar to the Greek myths and legends that Erikson uses as inspiration, and whose metaphoric value he tries to give life to. Salvation, tragedy and a whole lot of other undertones. Themes high and low mixed together. Sleight of hand and awe.

Either you follow (and be willingly to follow) Erikson or this whole thing just won’t work. On the forums I read all sort of criticism and a good amount of it is poorly motivated. This leads, even from myself, to claim that those readers “do not get it”. Too often what happens toward the whole genre, and is promptly defended by everyone, happens again within. People attack the book because it has an excessive use of magic, powerful characters, huge battles. Well, my opinion is that these books are great IN SPITE of those. It is when Erikson is most realist and delves deep in his themes that he is most successful. But why using the spectacularity as an argument to diminish the books? It’s “serious literature” vs fantasy all over again. The same mistakes repeated by those who are this side of the fence (appreciating the genre) and that should know better than criticize something through stupid, superficial arguments. It’s diminishing without understanding. So I say that when those arguments are used, readers “do not get it”. Erikson is a lot more than what drifts on the surface. If all you notice is the powerful magic and characters then it means you are gliding on. Losing the great majority of the meaning of those words.

The payoff is then only proportional to the dedication. Erikson will never work too well for the large public. It will never be an easy and almost safe recommendation (like Abercrombie or Scott Lynch). It will never be for a “majority”. It will never work for a variegated public on different levels (and ages). But if you are on the same line and are interested in its themes and intent, then it will be nothing short of grandiose. More than a book, a journey.

Please give Erikson a good artist, someday

On another blog it was mentioned that Tor (US publisher) is relaunching Steven Erikson by adopting the UK covers, at least for the first book.

As commented there I think it’s a good choice as the US covers are really bad for that kind of books. They give an idea of childish fantasy, young adult at best, with the classic stereotypes. They just don’t fit. The UK covers are nothing spectacular either, but at least they look more elegant and classy and don’t discourage the reader the same way Tor covers I think are doing.

That said I hope one day I’ll see these books getting not just acceptable covers, but good ones. As I wrote in other occasions I think the artists Michael Komarck and Raymond Swanland are those who could better represent Erikson’s work and vision.

Speaking of Swanland, he’s already doing Glen Cook’s omnibus covers and they are great (even if Glen Cook himself isn’t too pleased about those new bundles). Here’s the next incoming:

The cover is great as always, even if I have to admit I’m not a fan of a character posing in the center of the stage. I prefer much more panoramic vistas that focus on the mood than the close-ups on the characters. I prefer the characters to say exclusive of the reader’s mind. Or at least, if they have to be there, not facing straight at the reader and posing.

Erikson VS GRRM VS Goodkind

I’m currently reading in parallel Memories of Ice, Goodkind’s Wizard’s First Rule, and A Game of Thrones because I’m curious about the real differences between them.

Erikson is the one who brings up more controversy between fans and haters, Goodkind is rooted in the genre, hugely popular and vastly hated by critics, Martin uses a more realistic setting and approach, is popular, and vastly loved by critics.

It’s a good mix of radically different writers.

One aspect I was considering and that sticks out the most is that in Erikson’s books there are NO slices of life. I can’t make a single example. This is maybe the main reason why the books aren’t able to “capture” the reader on a emotional level and why so many complain that the characterization is shallow.

I am often arguing that the problem of Erikson’s books is not that they are too long, but that they are short. There is no space for things to calm down and let the reader becoming familiar with what is going on. Characters are first and foremost plot points, then characters. I think that Erikson’s characterization is deep and interesting. Original and challenging. But sweeping changes happen so quickly and so deeply that the reader doesn’t have ways to “familiarize”.

What makes a book fun to read is the immersion, so the identification. The main reason why writers like Goodkind and Stephanie Mayer are popular is because those books rely heavily on a certain audience that is going to identify with the characters. In order to do so you need a lot of exposition about “slices of life”. Something like “life before the plot”. First you build the characters, introduce them to the reader, give them some normal life to which readers can connect (romance, school, for example). Then you trigger the plot that builds the tension. I used Goodkind and Mayer as an example, but even Tolkien worked like that. It starts with a birthday party. And Hobbits are a race shaped to welcome the reader through certain familiarities and quirks we all share. Shaped as “bridges” between the two worlds.

That’s exactly the opposite of Erikson. No matter what book you read, what you find from the first page to the last is plot. Plot, plot and plot. Every step is a pivotal turn and the setting is already so alien and relying on its own mythology that it’s nearly impossible for the normal reader to connect with it.

So this is the point. Characters suffer from lack of space. The prose and plotting is so dried to the essential that the story feels mechanical. It lacks naturalness. And this leads to all the critics about Erikson. That the first book is unreadable, that it’s filled with deus ex machina and that the characters are shallow.

From the first page to the last the characters are involved and react to plot points, similarly to what may happen in the Silmarillion. There is no space for the familiarization and for characters to become accessible on an emotional level. The setting is so disconnecting and different that it’s impossible to relate to it if not on a cognitive level that leaves out the emotional impact.

Example:
There’s one particular aspect that involved Felisin in the second book. I’ve read reviews saying that Felisin is a flat character that sees no evolution, when to me it’s one of the most fantastic and challenging journey. Problem is, most of these changes happen before the first page, and I’m not joking.

Felisin is Paran’s sister. She only appears in a handful of lines of dialogue between Paran and Tavore in the first book. 99% of the readers will start book 2 without remembering that part. The deep changes that Felisin lives are only perceivable if one has an idea of how Felisin was BEFORE but this is never shown explicitly in the book.

Felisin is supposed to start as Paran’s little sister. The naive, innocent character who spends all her time reading books, to whom Paran is protective (and then guilty for having left her). Opposed to her older sister, that is the antithesis. Cold, determined, assertive. During the second book Erikson cruelly tortures the typical “innocent character” in every way possible. And he shows how a life can shape a person. He shows how everything “beautiful” can become corrupt and mimic what it saw. How it can lose all that beauty, physical and emotional.

But all this is lost. Readers find Felisin as a disagreeable character, almost a villain. No change is perceived because the “first” Felisin is never shown, we just get the evil one. And this transition and its thematic effect is completely lost (along with the prologue, where Erikson narrates from the point of view of Felisin and only reveals last that she is chained. Who cares to see a chained character if no one remembered her?).

This is just an example but is the way I feel this series. I’m awed by how it’s challenging and how it never takes the easy, predictable path. But it also feels like it overdoes and overreach, so becoming a niche product that only works when you give it enough dedication. And most readers aren’t willingly to fill all the holes that Erikson left behind.

Hence the lack of vaster popularity.

Most writers know and use all their tricks to lure the reader and make them follow. Erikson uses none. Either you want to follow because you share a certain mindset, or he doesn’t care and leaves you there.

Malazan series grows to 22 (twenty-two) books + novellas

Meaning the Malazan Book of the Fallen series written mainly by Steven Erikson and then his friend, Ian Cameron Esslemont.

– The 10 books of the main series written by Erikson, with the ninth out in September 09.
– Two more future trilogies, also by Erikson, one working like a prequel, the other like a sequel.
– The two books already out by Esslemont, Night of Knives and Return of the Crimson Guard.

The recent announce is about Esslemont’s agent signing a deal for four more books, with the first of the four to come out in 2010.

What are these new books about? Considering the old rumors, the next one will be titled “Stonewielder” and will deal with the Korel campaigns. Meaning Malazan empire stuff that probably fits in the middle of the main series.

The next one should be a book about Darujhistan revisited, but nothing more than this is known. Especially because it was all planned before Erikson wrote the eighth book also set in that same city.

This leaves out two more books. One should be about one continent, Assail, that was left almost in the dark in the main series. The other is supposed to be an epilogue to the main series.

So: 10 of the main series + 3 prequel trilogy + 3 sequel trilogy + 2 Esslemont books already out + 4 of the new book deal = 22 books total.

To add Erikson’s novellas, that are the best thing he ever wrote up to the point where I am at reading.

Well, this alone deserves the title of EPIC. Especially because I think the quality is superb. This is becoming a hobby on its own.

Ganoes Paran

Beautiful passage from Memories of Ice:

Aye, the truth of it. I won’t be collared, Nightchill. And I tell you this, now, and you’d do well to take heed of these words. I’m taking a step forward. Between you and every mortal like me. I don’t know what that man Gruntle had to lose, to arrive where you wanted him, but I sense the wounds in him – Abyss take you, is pain your only means of making us achieve what you want? It seems so. Know this, then: until you can find another means, until you can show me another way – something other than pain and grief – I’ll fight you.

Told to a God, it makes quite an effect.

Which isn’t the case of Kruppe, who has already the favor of a God:

‘Cheats? Gods forbid! What hapless victims are witness to on this night of nights is naught but cosmic sympathy for worthy Kruppe.’

Passing quotes (and comments)

Memories of Ice, Steven Erikson:

And perhaps that is the final, most devastating truth. The gods care nothing for ascetic impositions on moral behaviour. Care nothing for rules of conduct, for the twisted morals of temple priests and monks. Perhaps indeed they laugh at the chains we wrap around ourselves – our endless, insatiable need to find flaws within the demands of life. Or perhaps they do not laugh, but rage at us. Perhaps our denial of life’s celebration is our greatest insult to those whom we worship and serve.

It’s a while since I’ve last written about books. I haven’t stopped nor even slowed down reading, but it’s taking time to get to a point.

I’m currently reading in parallel three books. 550 pages into Memories of Ice (halfway through), 130 pages into the Colour in the Steel of K. J. Parker and 150 pages into Wizard’s First Rule by Terry Goodkind. Oh yeah, I’m reading Goodkind. I decided that a lightweight interlude would be nice between the two other more demanding reads, and I also want to watch the TV series only after having read the book, so I had to do it soon.

On Memories of Ice I have mixed feelings that I’ll probably explain better if I manage to write a review when I’m done. It’s an ambitious book that packs way too many themes. It’s a paradox because you have these books that exceed 1000 pages, and instead of having a boring and padded storyline to fill the space, you have instead way too many aspects that aren’t fully used. It’s a wasteful book that throws away too many good ideas (this quote here above could lead to a deep character development, with lots of implications, but it is started and done in two pages). There’s also less “genius” in the writing. When I was reading the novellas every paragraph was a form of art on its own. It made wonderful quotes. With this book I find very hard to have quotable pieces that work as brilliant standalone. It’s convoluted in its own dimension, filled with jargon and internal references. It’s not hard because I’m well used to all of them, but I find the writing of a quality below the second book. Still enjoying it immensely though.

Colours in the Steel is a book I decided to read after I read online the excerpt from The Company, the latest standalone from the author. I thought the characterization was so well done that the book deserved to be read, and not just that, but also what came before. So I bought this one other book that is the first on a trilogy. The same author, beside the recent standalone, wrote three complete trilogies. Very, very different from the rest of the fantasy genre. It feels a bit like historical fiction, with a strong realism in setting and characterization, but the world is still entirely fictional, even with a spark of magic that still feels very “real” (it reminded me the beginning of Stephenson’s Anathem with the monks). The writing on this book is more traditional than the other excerpt I read, but the characterization is still outstanding. For theme, development and obsessive attention to technical details (it explains exactly how weapons and siege engines are made) one would think it would make for a slow, boring read. Instead it is “brisk”, never dull. Really well done on all levels and unique in style and plotting from the rest of the genre.

Finally Goodkind (Wizard’s First Rule). As I commented on a forum, it is extremely accessible. It uses all the tricks to win the reader from the first pages. It’s the average “young adult” fantasy, with added gore. I read it knowing well how it is hated by the critics, without expecting much. For now it’s easy and fun to read and as I said it is a good interlude. Here and there it gets silly and unbelievable but there were also parts that didn’t come out completely trivial. For example there are the good guys and the bad guys, but it went explaining some ambivalence that is interesting to consider. A lot of the background doesn’t make sense though. Maybe it will be explained later but for now the story is inconsistent and illogical.

Bauchelain and Korbal Broach – The Collected Stories – Steven Erikson

This book collects at a (relatively) accessible price the three novellas that PS Publishing published separately. I didn’t know what to expect, how much they were connected to the bigger series, how relevant. If a significant effort with its own purpose or just a diversion intended for the most passionate readers who won’t miss even the minor works. Well, I don’t even know where to start with the praises because this isn’t simply a “worthy” read compared to the rest of the books, but may be as well the finest writing Erikson ever achieved. And by a good margin.

The most impressive achievement is how the writing style changes and adapts to the different form. It is the same Erikson, with the multitude of characters and crazy ideas and inventions at every page, but at the same time it feels as if the constraints to the short form fueled the already wild creativity. The stories and characters seem explode out of the pages, unrestrained. The more they are squeezed tight, the more they come alive and claiming their space. Single sentences that read like poetry and filled with meaning on multiple levels.

Not only Erikson is at ease with the short form, he excels, shines in it. He understands it fully and carves out all the potential there is. It’s not the wild creativity, the crazy characters, the usual convergences that accelerate to a mad rush toward the end. It’s not in the content itself (that has always been seen as THE strong point), it’s in the execution. Here Erikson shows sheer talent. It oozes out of the page. From the first page. From a writer who’s used to publish once a year books with more than a thousand of pages you expect a writing style that is merely functional. Something quick and cheap that gets the job done. Well, here the real protagonist is the writing itself. It’s Erikson at his very best (or worst for some detractors), talking right at the reader in this meta-narrative game:

“But what do we know? We’re no brush-stroked arched brow over cold, avid eye, oh no. We’re just the listeners, wading through some ponce’s psychological trauma as the idiot stares into a mirror all love/hate all masturbatory up’n’down and it’s us who when the time comes -comes, hah- who are meant to gasp and twist pelvic in linguistic ecstasy.”

He’s “loose” and highly pretentious. Condensed, focused awesome. Everything that makes the readers love or hate him with a passion.

I used to say that from my point of view he is among “traditional” fantasy writers the one with the most “literary” intent. For these novellas this intent is shown prominently, but not limited to this show-off I’m celebrating. There are a number of memorable characters, plot twists and plenty of humor. Even if the writing has the predominant role, it doesn’t overshadow or gets in the way of the fun of the more traditional elements. “Over the top”, excessive and raving indeed. But still a masterful execution from every point of view.

It was a pleasure. Not just about what is written, but how it is written. I developed a familiarity with it, absorbed some of it as if it were mine. I really couldn’t ask more.

Blood Follows

The novels are put in the book in the chronological order of the plot, but the second was actually written and published last. This is interesting to consider because it proves again Erikson’s growth as a writer. There’s a steady, definite improvement between the three novellas in the order they were written, so with the second representing the real peak.

With the first one Erikson seems to take confidence with the new format. He shows sparks of genius but it’s still the beginning of a journey. He sets the foundation, starts to present the characters and develop the style (along some recurring habits and quibbles of the characters) that he will fully exploit later. Here he shows an economy of writing compared to the other novels, starts to play with the words to look for an intended effect, using them more for what they evocate than their explicit meaning. Showing a contagious love for the language that shares the similar beauty and lure of poetry.

There are a few memorable scenes, like the very first encounter between Bauchelain and Emancipor Reese and a myriad of details are presented that will only make sense later, following a similar trend of the main series. The first novel is also the one more connected to the Malazan world. The relatively familiar setting isn’t a weight. There are a number of interesting informations and perspectives, but they are used as “flavor”, not as key points.

The tone is far from the realistic one used in the main series. There is still a bleak and dark atmosphere but no restraints for the humorous and excessive side of things. Characters are caricatures, exaggerated in their traits, clever and naive at the same time. In some ways he reminded me more of Abercrombie here, with scenes intended both to to give personality to the characters and to be fun in their own way. Circumscribed situations with their own (often comic) purpose, while also driving the plot.

Maybe it’s the reason why I thought the end was not completely satisfying. With so much focus on the “performance” itself, what was being performed didn’t have the best denouement possible. This worried me since also for book 1 and 2 in the main series I was partially deluded by the ending. Maybe I really had a problem with the way Erikson ended his stories. The reasons of the disappointment were due mainly to the fact that some plot threads and characters seemed to pass by without a definite aim. Or better, the novella was so rich that it built a number of expectations that lead nowhere by the end of it. There were characters and plot threads that ultimately revealed to be dead ends, or still not used fully or significant enough for the potential I saw in them. As if I saw more in what was hinted than what revealed to be the real intent.

Still, the journey was fun and I developed a lasting sympathy and fondness for the characters that is only comparable, again, to what I felt for Abercrombie’s characters.

The Lees of Laughter’s End

It represents the high peak and the one case where I can say: there are no flaws.

100 pages of condensed AWESOME. Everything and then more happens, including the assault of a god. The ending is a mad dash in typical “convergence” style, only this time the convergence all starts and ends in the limited space of a ship. You’ll be amazed at how many stories tangle there, without even an ounce of the confusion that sometimes can be found in the main series. It’s all sleek, cleverly assembled. It’s a celebration of all things Erikson.

This time all the expectations built along the way were fully realized and even surpassed. The ending is great and fitting, without leaving that feel of incompleteness. In those 100 pages he sets up the scene and wraps it up perfectly.

He even conjures an external narrator in the form of a child and her old mother, who live completely alone in the crows’ nest of the ship and observe from far away everything below. They become at times the narrators of the story, some kind of abstract, symbolic figures, playing with different tones and registers, only to have their own patterns broken in some incredible way. Nothing is safe, not even an omniscient narrator.

This sent chills down my spine and one case where Erikson surpasses Gene Wolfe at his own game. It happens in a few pages and yet is extremely powerful and not at all vague. It plays with your expectations and breaks them, turn them on their head. Whatever you take a granted, breaks apart. And then again and again.

The Healthy Dead

Erikson meets Pratchett. This novella reads like satire, with plenty of wit and paradoxical situations.

It is the least “Malazan” of the three and also the one more “over the top”. It even uses some fantastic elements that do not seem to fit or belong perfectly to the world. Its explicit intent is also more driven and specific. It isn’t “loose” like the others, it doesn’t follow its own pattern and consistence. To understand it you need to draw parallels with our “modernity”. It’s fantasy fiction but working only in direct contact with what we live every day, which is what the satire is supposed to do with its metaphorical value. This purpose is already manifest in the disclaimer in the first page (and in those quotes I extrapolated):

Warning to lifestyle fascist everywhere. Don’t read this or you’ll go blind.

The novella brings to the front a different style. How to convey the most disparate thoughts through a story made as a vehicle. The plot and characters, including our protagonists, aren’t here the ultimate destination, they are means to an end.

It also marks a structural difference compared to the more usual worldbuilding. The majority of fantasy writers shape a world around the story, so that the world is functional to the story, or the intent behind it. Erikson instead shapes his world as a frame that can contain all possible stories. It’s a “world” in the true sense because it’s not one-directional.

The world is the frame, the characters are his “voices” and the stories his meaning.

But even if in this case he has a definite purpose and thesis he wants to prove, despite the whole novella pivots around “expedients”, it’s still a gorgeous, utterly fun read. The usual trio feels almost out of place at the beginning, as if those Malazan characters finished into a different, impossible world. But that’s also what fuels it all and makes those characters even more appropriate. Both Bauchelain and Emancipor become perfect vehicles for the message as if they were created and meant just for it. And, more, they came out even richer.


If you expect these novellas to integrate the main series and say something vital you’ll be disappointed. If you expect them to be throwaway little-efforts, forgettable digressions, you are also absolutely, terribly wrong. This book swiped away all the reservations and doubts I had of Erikson as a writer. He may show up and lows throughout the whole main series, but I am now sure he has an indubitable talent. As James Barclay put it in the introduction to the second novella:

The Lees of Laughter’s End is a splendidly outrageous offering. It is utterly fearless and compelling. Most of all, it is hugely entertaining. Erikson in this mood is a joy to read.

The big problem I have now is that while reading the novellas I couldn’t wait to move onto Memories of Ice, considered Erikson’s masterpiece. Now that I’m 200 pages into Memories of Ice I feel… nostalgic. I’m developing a serious case of withdrawal from the novellas and the 1100 pages of this new book aren’t helping much. I’m addicted to those novellas, to the wit, the superb writing style, the memorable characters. So every time I sit down to read the new book I actually take in my hands the novellas and read some random pages. It’s like being in deeply love with someone of whom you’ve left just a photo.