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On Reading |
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Recommendations of Very Special Books Assassin's Apprentice and Royal Assassin (From the Farseer Trilogy) Robin Hobb (Bantam 1995 and 1996) I had intended this spot to be a place where I would write about books I had encountered that I had simply loved. That I could recommend without reservation. I even knew that these two would be the first I wrote about. And, in fact, I wrote most of what follows below as I launched into the third and final book of the trilogy, Assassin's Quest (1997). |
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Unfortunately that one did not live up to the promise of its predecessors, and so I found myself in a quandary. Should I not write about the first two, after all? But I really did love them, in that special intense way that very few books inspire in me anymore. So I decided I would go ahead with my original recommendations, and add a brief discussion of what it was about the third book that I found so disappointing. Thus . . . I bought Assassin's Apprentice in a used bookstore a good five years ago, because it had gotten a good review in Locus and because I loved the Michael Whelan cover. Then it sat on my shelf for all those years because, well, it was about an assassin, and I just didn't want to read about an assassin. How could anyone make that turn out right? Even if the hero was only a child when he was first put -- forced -- into such training, it didn't seem like it could end up something that would ever coincide with the things I felt were important, like honor and integrity and courage. Like love and loyalty and faithfulness. Boy, was I wrong. It's difficult to write about this book, because I keep going off into an emotional spasm of appreciation, which reduces my comments to inanities like "It's wonderful!" "One of the best books I've ever read!" "It is SOOO good!" "You've GOT to read it!" And then I leave off with the words and fall into inarticulate emissions of sound. I shall make myself return to my senses. The story, which is outlined on the back of the book, does indeed follow the adventures of Fitz, the bastard son of the Crown Prince (or "King-in-Waiting") Chivalry who is raised in the palace by his grandfather, the King and secretly trained to be an assassin. As it turns out, he rarely has to actually assassinate anyone, having a way with people and with words and being able to quickly size up a diplomatic situation and resolve it without the violence he was originally assigned to do. The few assassinations he does carry out are more well-deserved executions of the King's justice. Hobb does a good job of making it acceptable to the reader, even if it is not so acceptable to the ones who must practice it. I was only a few pages into the first book when I was caught and swept away, awed, wishing heartily that I could write this well -- the use of simile and metaphor, the imagery, vividness and rich detail of the world, and most of all the wonderful characterizations. The people are interesting, even eccentric in some cases, but mostly likeable and good-hearted (though make no mistake, she has some incredibly villainous villains as well). In Hobb's world, people are named after the virtues it is hoped they will embody, and Chivalry is a perfect name for this character. Though he never appears in any of the books (he dies offstage early in the first one), you get to know him from how the other characters remember him, and how they respond to Fitz, his son. Especially when Fitz begins to manifest some of Chivalry's characteristics. You know that he is an honorable man, a man who loves his only son, and tries to do the best thing for him, though at great personal sacrifice. In fact, much of the conflict in all three of the books revolves around good people basically trying to do the best thing for each other or for the realm, though they can't always see it in each other. Sometimes, the reader can't see it either, at least at first, and only realizes what has happened as the book progresses. One of the main conflicts in the books revolves around the use of the Skill, a talent for telepathy and mind manipulation that resides in the Farseer bloodline, of which Fitz is one. Being illegitimate he would not normally be trained in the Skill, but this is a time of invasion by fierce and savage aggressors where all who have the least aptitude for Skilling are needed. Despite the opposition of his enemies, who also have abilities in the Skill, he is trained. I saw in this a great analogy for the spiritual battle we face, a battle of thoughts and attitudes generated by the cosmic system against the thoughts and attitudes generated by the word of God. Another thing I loved was that Fitz also has the "Wit," an ancient, little known and greatly feared power to link minds with animals. It is a power that he uses without even realizing it when he bonds with a puppy as a lonely six year old, torn from mother and village, rejected by his father and raised by his father's gruff stableman. The puppy takes the place of his lost family, and is truly his closest and only friend. Hobb handles it beautifully, making much of the loyalty and willingness to sacrifice on the part of both members of this bond. It is a thread she pursues throughout all three books. There is also much made of being a servant of the king, a "king's man" and thus having to give your life in that service. Your time, your energy, your desires -- all must be sacrificed to the oath you have made to be a King's man. This brings in a nice parallel to our attitude toward service toward our King, which demands no less. I was constantly thinking about this as I read, and I appreciated the examples of how it was done, even as I was thinking that while the king in the book was only a man and limited in his ability to care for and protect his subjects, our King is not. This thread of service and sacrifice also runs throughout all three books, sometimes rebelled against, more often surrendered to. It is in the last volume that Hobb begins to dwell on the concepts of fate and destiny, and it is in the last book where the results of all this service and sacrificing are finally realized. It is that realization that was so disappointing. For in the end, the human viewpoint from which the story has sprung has no acceptable solutions to the dilemma she has created. Her world is one with decrees, but no omniscient, omnipotent, righteous, just and loving Decreer. The "wheel" of time and history rolls on, using and crushing and casting aside whomever it chooses. It is a grim and empty viewpoint, wherein great sacrifice ultimately achieves little beyond the temporary alleviation of human misery, and provides the one who sacrifices no reward whatever. It is a world without ultimate justice, and the contrast between that viewpoint and the one put forth in the Bible is startling. It makes one very grateful for the truth one has been allowed to see, and very sorry for those who cannot or will not see it. It is, however, an incredibly accurate metaphor for the futility and emptiness of human good and human effort poured into human achievement. The creation consumes the creator, and goes off to rescue the nation -- though as much from the desire to fill its own belly as to see justice done and good prevail. And while that rescue is temporarily beneficial to the realm, in the end there are subtle and long term negative consequences . . . that will circle back and cause the problem to resurface at some later date. The more I think about it, the more stunningly appropriate it becomes. It just isn't very uplifting or satisfying. In summary, the first book made my soul resonate as few books do. The second built upon the first, showing Fitz growing in knowledge and skill and favor, developing into a fine and honorable young man, loved and admired by many whom he loved and admired in turn. Yes, Book 2 ended in misery and temporary defeat, but for me it continued to hold out the promise that the effort and sacrifice would be worth it. The third did not make good on the promise, though it was very well written, though the story pulls you powerfully along, and you care about the people, and the world. It was moving, and wonderfully realized in its detail -- and even in its truth so far as the human condition as seen from human viewpoint can be realized. But as I said, it did not make good on what I saw as the original promise. So, while I do not regret having read any of them, I cannot give my recommendation for the entire trilogy without reservations. There is, I must add, some hope for redemption here: Hobb has written the first of a new series following this character, so perhaps she will eventually find her way round to at least a little justice for him. |
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