Wow. Anyone into epic fantasy, and I know that isn't everyone's cup of tea, get your hands on Steven Erikson's Malazan books. I think I mentioned that the first one, Gardens of the Moon, was pretty damned good, but the second, Deadhouse Gates, blew me away - in a literary sense of course.
Best description of swords and shields battle scenes in a fictional book I have read. Ever. And the fact that the army whose point of view you are reading it from is retreating across a continent for who knows how many months, overwhelmed, outnumbered, slaughtered - it has been a while since I have felt true compassion for characters out of a book. It is so damned unfair.
How good is this writing, about an impending battle -
'The named soldier - dead, melted wax - demands a response among the living... a response no-one can make. Names are no comfort, they're a call to answer the unanswerable. Why did she die, not him? Why do the survivors remain anonymous - as if cursed - while the dead are revered? Why do we cling to what we lose while we ignore what we still hold?
'Name none of the fallen, for they stood in our place, and stand there still in each moment of our lives. Let my death hold no glory, and let me die forgotten and unknown. Let it not be said that I was one among the dead to accuse the living.'
Wow. There is much, much more as good as that, over nine hundred pages in fact, and I could have mentioned more, but I don't want to ruin the plot beyond lots of battles and intrigues and sorcery and stuff. And I just bought book three which is over eleven hundred pages - it's been a while since I attempted a book that big...
Steven Erikson, mate, you are a champ. It's been a while since I enjoyed a fiction book so much.
Paul
Best description of swords and shields battle scenes in a fictional book I have read. Ever. And the fact that the army whose point of view you are reading it from is retreating across a continent for who knows how many months, overwhelmed, outnumbered, slaughtered - it has been a while since I have felt true compassion for characters out of a book. It is so damned unfair.
How good is this writing, about an impending battle -
'The named soldier - dead, melted wax - demands a response among the living... a response no-one can make. Names are no comfort, they're a call to answer the unanswerable. Why did she die, not him? Why do the survivors remain anonymous - as if cursed - while the dead are revered? Why do we cling to what we lose while we ignore what we still hold?
'Name none of the fallen, for they stood in our place, and stand there still in each moment of our lives. Let my death hold no glory, and let me die forgotten and unknown. Let it not be said that I was one among the dead to accuse the living.'
Wow. There is much, much more as good as that, over nine hundred pages in fact, and I could have mentioned more, but I don't want to ruin the plot beyond lots of battles and intrigues and sorcery and stuff. And I just bought book three which is over eleven hundred pages - it's been a while since I attempted a book that big...
Steven Erikson, mate, you are a champ. It's been a while since I enjoyed a fiction book so much.
Paul
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