Book Review: The Dark Powers of Tolkien (by David Day)

As I do every year at this time, I find myself wanting to read anything and everything I can about Tolkien, his worlds, and his philosophy. When I saw David Days The Dark Powers of Tolkien in a bookshop in Edinburgh, I knew at once that I had to have it. Well, I started reading it and, a day later, I’m finished and ready to share my thoughts with all of you.

It’s a slender book, but Day manages to pack quite a lot into it despite that. He gives us a pretty good overview of the various incarnations of evil that appear in all of the ages of Middle-earth, ranging from the titanic force of Morgoth in the First and Sauron in the Second and Third to the rather lesser evils of Saruman, Orcs, Trolls, and sundry dragons and other monsters. The book is arranged chronologically, so that the reader gets a good sense of how evil incarnates in each Age of Middle-earth.

In the process, he shows us how, for Tolkien, evil is nothing more nor less than the absence of good. In other words, it is a nothingness that can only ever be self-defeating. We see this time and time again in his work. Melkor/Morgoth, for all of his grand ambitions, finds that he lacks the power to make something out of nothing, and so must content himself with damaging and corrupting the work of others, and his efforts ultimately end up being self-defeating. The same is true of Sauron who, in his arrogance and desire to dominate, sows the seeds of his own undoing.

Day draws some interesting parallels between Tolkien’s work and the various threads and cultures that he drew upon, some of which even I wasn’t aware of. In doing so, Day helps us to appreciate the deep wells of Tolkien’s own mind. Those who aren’t as familiar with his work and his influences will definitely find some valuable gems. Day is particularly successful at showing how Tolkien drew on the various myths and legends of northern Europe, though he also does some cross-cultural exploration that I found intriguing. Day also provides some interesting glosses on nomenclature and how, in Tolkien’s fiction, the name of a person or thing reveals something about its essential nature.

Perhaps the book’s most interesting contribution to an understanding of Tolkien’s work is his comparison of Tolkien to Milton. The two men are, arguably, the greatest crafters of epic in English, and each of them has a particularly keen eye of how to create evil characters that are at once deeply repugnant yet utterly comprehensible.

Lastly, a word on the illustrations. The book is lavishly illustrated with various styles of image. Some of them are truly disturbing in their ability to capture the grandeur and terror of Tolkien’s evil creations. While some of them may not be to everyone’s taste, many of them are very extraordinary indeed.

Overall, I think this book will be enjoyed by those, like me, who have a voracious appetite for everything Tolkien. There’s not necessarily anything truly groundbreaking in the book, it does provide a good overview of the types of evil creatures that populate Tolkien’s fiction.

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “The Lost Boy” (S1, Ep. 5)

In this episode, things begin to take some interesting turns, as Lyra at last discovers for certain what exactly the Magisterium has been doing to the captured children: separating them from their dæmons. Meanwhile, in our world, we are finally introduced to the character Will Parry and his troubled mother, both of whom are being pursued by Boreal in his efforts to discover what it was that Stanlislaus Grumman managed to discover. In the final moments of the episode, Lyra is captured by unnamed persons and taken to the terrible Bolvangar.

Even though I’ve read the book and knew what to expect, the death of Billy Costa was still like an emotional punch to the gut, and it serves as an important reminder of the stakes of the journey to regain the children from the hands of the Magisterium. When his mother tells him that he can go and be with Ratter, it’s hard not to feel as if your own heart is being torn out at having to watch this woman who has already suffered so much have to stand by and watch her son die as well.

Since the beginning, I’ve thought that Duff was one of the strongest parts of this series, even if she wasn’t one of the main characters, and her performance in this episode was truly the stuff of awards season. The same can also be said James Cosmo as Farder Coram. Those who saw him as Ser Jeor in Game of Thrones would be forgiven for thinking that he was only capable of playing bluff, bear-like characters, but here he shows that he has a sensitive side as well. His scene with the witch Serafina was as heartbreaking in its own way as Ma Costa’s was with Billy, for it reminds us just how much he’s had to give up as he grows older.

Of course, the most noteworthy part of this episode was the introduction of Will. I’ve been wondering for some time how deeply they were going to go into Will Parry’s backstory in the first season of the series, given that he doesn’t even make an appearance until the second book. Here, we learn that he takes care of his mother, who clearly suffers from some form of anxiety and OCD. The scenes between the two of them also pack an emotional punch, as it’s clear that Will loves his mother, even as he’s consumed with the same conflicted feelings that most adolescents feel toward their parents (the bonds between mothers and their children is one of the themes from the books that the series has chosen to emphasize).

Though I’m sure that some annoying fans of the books (who just happen to be racist) will start bitching because they cast people of color in the roles of Will and his mother, to me that matters less than the talent that we see from both Amir Wilson and Nina Sosanaya. Between the two of them, they manage to convey a great deal of emotional richness of these two characters and their deep bond with one another.

Strangely enough, despite the fact that Ruth Wilson didn’t put in an appearance as Mrs. Coulter, I still felt her presence looming in the background. I have to be honest, I rather missed seeing her striding across this stage, and I’m looking forward to seeing her certain return next week, particularly since it will involve her confronting the fact that her own heartless experiments on children have now caught Lyra.

Overall, I thought this was a very strong episode. Though there weren’t any truly big set pieces, there were a few moments–such as Lyra’s journey atop Iorek–that were breathtaking. And, as always, the scenery continues to be one of the highlights of the series. And, of course, Iorek himself continues to fascinate, and I’m really impressed with how well the CGI has been handled. His conversation with Lyra, in which he explains his shame, is also one of the highlights of the episode.

Now that there are only three episodes left, I’m finding myself wondering where they’ll decide to make the cut off. There are a number of climaxes that occur just within the first book, so they have a lot to choose from.

See you next week!

On the Pleasures of Re-Reading “The Lord of the Rings”

As I do every year, I’ve recently started re-reading The Lord of the Rings. Those who are familiar with my old blog no doubt know that, every December, I commit a good amount of my blog space to a discussion of Tolkien and his works, and this year is no different. So, to inaugurate my first Tolkien Appreciation Month on this author blog, I thought I’d talk about the pleasures of re-reading Tolkien.

I first read The Lord of the Rings when I was about 9 or 10, and it proved to be one of those truly life-changing literary events. I simply couldn’t stop reading it; it seemed to exert some sort of hold on me that I couldn’t break. Full of trembling fear at the Ringwraiths, swept up in the majesty of Tolkien’s world, and moved to tears by this tale of sacrifice, I knew that here was a book that I’d return to again and again.

Part of this, I think, comes from the fact that it was my Mom who introduced me to Tolkien and that she, like so many others, had returned to it repeatedly over the years. Re-reading it with her was a way of forging bonds with her, each of us sharing our observations and thoughts about the book, as well as explaining to one another why we took pleasure in it.

In the years since, I’ve read it dozens of times, but still something keeps me coming back again and again. Sometimes, this was an external factor. When, for example, the films came out in the early 2000s, I found myself reading The Lord of the Rings on a yearly basis. While in undergrad, I also took not one but two courses on Tolkien, which encouraged yet more readings. And then there were The Hobbit films, and the release of further volumes from Christopher, notably Beren and Luthien and The Fall of Gondolin. Each one gave me a reason to return to the stories that started it all. It’s now become basically an annual ritual for me to pick up The Lord of the Rings and to give it another read.

Sometimes, I read it slowly, savoring each and every word, allowing myself to become fully immersed in the beauty of Tolkien’s language. Even a cursory reading of The Lord of The Rings reveals a man who knew how to describe landscape in a way that almost no one else in epic fantasy has come close to matching (Terry Brooks is one such). On these readings, I often allow myself to even linger over the songs (certainly one of the most divisive aspects of the book, with some fans loving and others hating them). At other times, I go at a faster pace, sometimes skipping to the parts of the book that I find the most enjoyable.

Either way, I continually and consistently find new things about the story itself, the characters, and the world that Tolkien crafted with such care. That, to me, is one of the most extraordinary things about Tolkien in general and The Lord of the Rings in particular. No matter how many times you read it nor over how many years, it can still manage to surprise you. In that sense, they are both very much like the hobbits themselves.

At the same time, there’s also something comforting about the familiar notes, about knowing what’s going to happen yet enjoying the journey anyway. I love reading the chapters that detail history (such as “The Shadow of the Past” and “The Council of Elrond”). And, silly as it sounds, I still get a chill when the Ringwraiths first begin to make their appearance. And, divisive as it may be, as the years have gone by I’ve even begun to enjoy Tom Bombadil.

A lot about me has changed in the 20 years since I first read The Lord of the Rings. Still, every time I pick it up, I found myself drawn back, reminded of that sense of wonder and joy that accompanied that first reading. No matter what happens in the outside world, and no matter how dismal and depressing it may be at times, I know that there is a different sort of world awaiting me between its pages.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must rejoin Frodo and company. Cheers!

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “Armour” (S1, Ep. 4)

First of all, let me start off by saying…wow, what an episode! Lyra finally meets both Lee Scoresby and the formidable armored bear Iorek and, by the end of the episode, they have all begun their trek to the place known to the witches as Bolvangar, where they hope to at last find and rescue the missing children. All of that is quite a lot of action to pack into an episode, but somehow it manages to feel perfectly paced.

I’ll confess that I had some serious doubts about Lin-Manuel Miranda as Lee Scoresby. I guess I had a certain image of him (okay, it’s Sam Elliott from the film version), and I just wasn’t sold that the man most famous for playing Alexander Hamilton could conform to what I saw in the character. Say what you will about LMM, but he does have a certain rakish charm, and that comes across in his interpretation of Lee. He’s less the crusty old western cowboy and more the rakish adventurer, and let me tell you, it works.

The real star of this episode was, of course, Iorek Byrnison, arguably one of Pullman’s finest creations. The armored bears (also known as the panserbjørne) have always been one of my favourite parts about this series, a reminder of just how strange this world is (despite its surface resemblance to our own). The animation makes him appear both visually compelling and also more than a little terrifying, and the voice adds to the overall effect. Likewise, Iorek’s nemesis Iofur (thank goodness they kept the name, rather than changing it, as they did in the film) is in many ways his polar opposite, possessed of an obsession with outward appearance that manifests as an ornate golden helmet. I will be very interested indeed to see what happens with those two as the series progresses.

This episode, I think, shows signs that the series is at last beginning to find its legs and its voice. The narrative itself took a great, strong step forward, and it definitely looks as if the conflict that’s been brewing will finally come to pass, though it remains to be seen who will be the ultimate victor between the Magisterium and those who chafe under their restrictions. At the same time, it kept enough just out of our sight to keep us wanting more. The witches, for example, have yet to make an appearance, but it appears that they will at last make their entrance in next week’s episode.

A friend of mine also pointed out that Lyra is also beginning to mature in this episode, and I agree. In fact, I think that the series’ choice to show her as a little more mature than her novel counterpart was one of the wiser creative decisions, as it shortcuts some of the more laborious parts of the novel that focus on her emotional maturation. It also helps that Dafne Keen is just so compelling as a young actress, and I’m so glad that she was chosen to bring Lyra to visual life.

Just as importantly, this episode also showed that, beneath their powerful and implacable exterior, the members of the Magisterium are as divided and dangerous to one another as they are to their enemies. Marisa Coulter has everyone, even a cardinal and the king of the bears, wrapped around her finger, and she isn’t afraid to use every tool at her disposal to get what she wants. Evil as she might be, she continues to dominate every scene in which she appears. Speaking of Mrs. Coulter…if the costume designer for this series isn’t at the very least nominated for an Emmy for their costuming of Mrs. C. during this episode, then there is truly no justice in this world. When she appears in that maroon sheath in the heart of the Magisterium, drawing every eye to herself, it’s clear that she knows exactly what it takes to get what she wants.

I continue to be very pleased with the way that HBO has chosen to adapt one of my favuorite fantasy series, and I have very high hopes for the remainder of the season and for the already-filming second one. Stay tuned for next week’s review!

Book Review: “The Ruin of Kings” (by Jenn Lyons)

As readers of this blog know, I’m always on the lookout for a new fantasy to really sink my teeth into, one that would allow me to lose myself in its world while also keeping the pace moving. I remembered seeing Jenn Lyons’ The Ruin of Kings at Barnes and Noble some time ago, but it was some time before I could actually sit down and read it, and even more time after that until I’d finished it.

The novel follows Kihrin as he struggles to come to terms with a destiny that is far grander–and far more dangerous–than he’d ever imagined. It toggles between three different timelines, as well as several characters, before they all come together in the sort of climaxes that are the hallmark of much epic fantasy. The novel ends with Kirhin fleeing into exile, while a horde of demons has been unleashed upon the land.

The Ruin of Kings has all of the ingredients that I love about epic fantasy. Kihrin is a very sympathetic hero, and there are enough side characters with their own personalities to flesh out the story. There’s an extensive cosmogony, and the world that the characters inhabit is a once beautiful, deadly, and cruel. This is the sort of novel in which you can truly lose yourself, as you become invested both in the hero’s journey and in the world in which it takes place.

What’s more, it’s told in a very lively and engaging fashion that actually had me laughing out loud a couple of times. It’s not just that Kihrin is an irreverent character–though that is true–it’s also that the other characters are as well. What’s more, there are footnotes scattered throughout, all of which come from the compiler of Kihrin’s story. While these sometimes provide useful context for what’s happening in the story, just as often they’re witty or amusing asides and commentary about what is happening. They are very amusing, but they can also be a bit distracting at times (as is often the case when people choose to use footnotes in fiction).

Much as I enjoyed this book, however, I do think that sometimes it does get a bit self-indulgent with its complexity. It can sometimes get a little bewildering trying to sort through the various social structures, magic systems, and goddesses. This problem is exacerbated by the fact that so many of them have very similar-sounding names, which can get a bit bewildering at times. Just as importantly, there are some aspects of the narrative itself that can get a bit bewildering, as there are quite a few twists and turns along the way. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, mind you, but it is definitely something to keep in mind as you start to read.

While some reviewers have really come down hard on the choice to have the novel toggle between three different periods of time–the time of the compiler, the frame narrative, and the time of the main action of the story–I think that this is actually one of the novel’s more interesting moves. Admittedly, it does get a bit confusing at times, trying to piece together this fragmented story, and I’m not entirely sure I understand the point of telling the story in this way.

However, since ornateness is hardly unique to Lyons (Brandon Sanderson comes to mind as someone else who gets a little indulgent in this regard), I won’t hold her to account too much. It just means that, as you read, you want to either keep a running tab of the various mentions of characters (the book contains a glossary, but sometimes it’s helpful to keep your own notes), or actually outline what’s going on. Alternatively, you can follow my method, which is to just keep moving forward and assume (rightly, I think) that the numerous conundrums will be resolved in the end.

Overall, I very much enjoyed The Ruin of Kings. By the time that the novel ended, I was left hungering for more. Lucky for me, the sequel, The Name of All Things, has already been released, so I can’t wait to devour it and report back to you on my findings.

Stay tuned!

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “The Spies” (S1, Ep. 3)

In the most recent episode of His Dark Materials Lyra, having escaped from Mrs. Coulter’s clutches and those of the Gobblers, finds herself taken in by the Gyptians who, we know, are on their own mission to rescue their children. Though much remains unclear, it is becoming increasingly obvious to her that she is part of a much greater destiny than she ever suspected. Meanwhile, the Magisterium–particularly Mrs. Coulter and Boreal–continue their own investigations.

At this point, the series has begun to take some liberties with the original novel, fleshing out some of the behind-the-scenes action that we don’t get in the book. For example, in this episode we see Mrs. Coulter ransack Jordan College, under the mistaken belief that Lyra has fled back to them. And of course we also see Boreal making continued forays into our world in order to track down the man she knows as Stanislaus Grumman (known as John Parry in our world). This expanded frame allows us to get more insight into the characters and their actions, a necessary bid of expansion when you adapt a relatively slender novel into a full-fledged television series.

One of the most conspicuous expansions, however, deals with Lyra herself. Whereas in the novels it takes some time for Lyra to find out that Mrs. Coulter and Lord Azriel are her parents, here we learn that out already and, just as importantly, we find out that Ma Costa is the Gyptian nurse who protected her from the man who wanted to take her life. This important change allows us to get a firmer look into her background and how this will shape her perspective on the world and the actions that she takes as the Gyptians make their way north and she embarks on the path to her destiny. (It’s worth noting that some of this material is drawn not just from the later books of His Dark Materials but also from The Book of Dust).

Naturally, Ruth Wilson continues to captivate as Mrs. Coulter. She positively seethes with a powerful energy, and while she is capable of absolute ruthlessness (though her monkey is the more terrifying of the two), it’s equally clear that she truly loves Lyra and is torn apart by the fact that she has left her. I’ve always thought that she was one of the best things about the books, and I’m glad that the series has opted to give her quite a lot of screen time to develop her character, to show that she’s not just a faceless villain. At the same time, I also appreciate that they’re leaving just enough out of the frame, leaving her something of an enigma that will continue to draw us in (particularly as she sets out to reclaim Lyra for herself).

This episode also featured some of the best cinematography that we’ve seen so far. There were a number of shots that were truly beautiful, particularly the emotional confrontation between Ma Costa and Lyra. The way in which it was staged not only showed the exquisite scenery but also used it to show the gradual drawing back together of Lyra and Ma Costa. Speaking of…I’m a little bit in love with Anne-Marie Duff. She brings to her performance of Costa the perfect blend of vulnerability and strength and makes her a surprisingly central character to the series’ narrative.

The actions of Boreal raises some significant questions, most notably whether the series will opt to introduce Will Parry in this season, or whether it will wait until season two. In any case, bringing him into the frame, even if just by reference, ensures that his introduction won’t be nearly as jarring as it is in the books, where he suddenly becomes a main character in the second book without any warning at all.

Overall, I thought this was a fine episode. The series is finally starting to build up some momentum and I, for one, cannot wait for the chance to finally see the North and, of course, the armoured bears. While some might begrudge the series its rather slow movement, I personally find it a pleasure to let it build up slowly.

That’s all for now. Stay tuned for next week’s review.

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “The Idea of North” (S1, Ep. 2)

Sorry that this review is a few days late. It’s been quite a week. Hopefully from here on out I’ll be able to post my reviews in a more timely fashion (no promises, though!)

In the most recent episode of His Dark Materials, Lyra finds that her stay in London with Mrs. Coulter is not at all what she expected it to be, particularly as her new mentor has more than a little bit of a sinister and cruel edge to her behaviour. The Gyptians continue their search for Billy Costa, and Carlo Boreal reveals that has somehow managed to find a way into our own world.

As was the case in the first episode, Ruth Wilson threatens to overshadow the proceedings. Somehow, she manages to bring together the essential contradictions at the heart of one of Pullman’s most compelling characters, at times vulnerable and at other as hard and cruel as diamonds. We also learn that she appears to have a genuine fondness for Lyra, even though this often manifests as a certain dictatorial approach to her protege. One gets the sense that there are depths to her that we have yet to see, and there’s more than a hint that she has a troubled history with Lord Azriel. Somehow, Wilson just seems to be Mrs. Coulter, and it was particularly chilling to watch the way in which she adopts the sweet persona of a genuinely caring woman, only to dispense with it as soon as she doesn’t need it any longer. (And, of course, there’s also her very sinister monkey dæmon).

That’s not to say that Lyra isn’t also compelling. I’m continually amazed at the deft casting of Dafne Keen in this role. She’s managed to make it all her own, and while this Lyra isn’t exactly as I pictured her, I to truly love the spunk and energy that Keen brings to the role. I’m very much looking forward to how she grows into the role as this season, and the series as a whole, continues.

The Magisterium, of course, continues to loom over everything. Some critics have suggested that it is ominous and menacing in the way of totalitarian organizations in a host of other fantasy series, but I actually think that this is selling the this adaptation short. True, it does handle the religious with a gentler touch than the books, but it’s still there in clearer fashion than it was in the previous film version. Time and again, we see the sign of cross hovering in the background, often looming portentously. For that matter, we also get a closer glimpse at the inner workings of this labyrinthine institution, and one gets the sense that the conflicts within the Magisterium might prove to be just as costly as its efforts outside of it.

Speaking of the Magisterium, I really like what the series has chosen to do with Boreal. In the books, he’s a rather stolid and cunning old gentleman (one can almost imagine him being played by Ian McKellen), but he’s far more of an active character in this adaptation. Here, we learn very early on that he has found a way to access our world, and it’s clear that he’s already started to hatch plots and plans there as well. I really appreciate the way that Ariyon Bakare brings a bristling, very sinister energy to the role, and I’m curious whether the series continues to set him up as one of the primary antagonists this early in the narrative.

All in all, I found this to be a very satisfying episode, one that ratcheted up the tension set up in the first one. I think that the fact that the first season is only eight episodes requires that they keep the narrative moving at a fast clip, rather than allowing us to get bogged down. At the same time, the expanded time frame enabled by television means that we get a deeper, richer look at this world and what makes it tick. I’m very much looking forward to seeing how they bring together Lyra and the Gyptians, as well as the long-awaited reveal of the armoured bear Iorek.

That’s all for today’s review. Stay tuned for my review of tomorrow night’s episode!

The Benefits of a Daily Word Goal

In honour of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, for those who haven’t heard of it before), I thought I’d write down some thoughts on the benefits of having a daily word goal.

First, it’s important to point out that opinions are divided about keeping a daily word count. When I was in graduate school, my adviser told me that focusing on writing a certain amount of words per day was the wrong way of going about composition. In his opinion, this led to my writing being, at times, a little unfocused. What’s more, it seemed that a lot of people agreed with him. Needless to say, I didn’t, though at the time I struggled to articulate why that was the case.

While I think there’s something to that advice in regards to academic writing–a focus on productivity can sometimes distract from the equally important issues of focus, clarity, and brevity–for me I just have to produce in order to feel like I’m really writing. Admittedly, some of this is chaff that will get ditched in the final version, but it’s just a part of how I work. I’ve tried to work in other ways, but it just never seems to gel for me.

I usually set myself a pretty high goal, because I know that, as a result of both being able to type quickly and having a pretty strong sense of what my narratives are going to look like, I can usually meet them. Usually, I try to make meeting my daily writing goal the first thing I do during the day’s work. Once I accomplish this, I feel like I can move on to other aspects of the writing process, such as revision and polishing (which, for me, take a significantly longer time than the original composition).

From my point of view, having a daily word goal is particularly important for those just starting on the writing journey, whether it’s part of participating in NaNo, or whether it’s unrelated. New writers often struggle with finding the momentum to keep going, to keep pushing forward, to keep putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and getting those ideas out there. Setting a daily word goal–one that is realizable but ambitious–can give you that added bit of motivation.

Just as importantly, however, it’s a good motivator to help you stay motivated. I’m not one of those writers who has to wait for the muse to hit before I sit down and start writing (if I did that, I don’t think that I’d ever get anything done). Typically, I just sit down at the computer and start writing. For those for whom this isn’t the case, however, knowing that you have an obligation–to yourself if to no one else–to meet a certain goal can be quite an imperative. If you’re so inclined, I’d also suggest joining a group of other writers, either through Twitter (which has a very supportive writing community) or in person. This will ensure that you have a level of accountability, even when it doesn’t happen to be #NaNo.

As with all things having to do with writing, however, it’s important to remember that there is no one-size-fits-all model for the process. If you don’t want to set yourself a goal that’s fine, but if you do, make sure that it’s one that you can reasonably attain. Spend a couple of days just writing, to get a sense of just how many you can reasonably expect to do in a given day. Once you do that, you’ll have a good idea of what you can accomplish, so base your daily writing goal off of that. Then, the key is consistency. Before you know it, you’ll find that you’ve produced a substantial body of work.

A final cautionary word. While I personally flourish when working toward a daily goal, I have to make sure of two things. First, I make sure that, even if I don’t meet my goal, that I don’t get discouraged and let that keep me from continuing. Second, I make sure to build in days off. It’s important to make sure that you give yourself time away from writing.

That’s all for today. Happy writing, everyone!

TV Review: His Dark Materials: “Lyra’s Jordan” (S1, Ep. 1)

It would be no exaggeration to say that I’ve been counting down the days until the release of the first episode of what will hopefully be HBO’s next great voyage into epic fantasy: His Dark Materials. For all that the final season of Game of Thrones left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, as a whole I’d found myself enchanted by the HBO adaptation of one of my favourite epic fantasy series, and I sincerely hoped that the new series would capture the magic of Pullman’s novels.

I was not disappointed. HBO’s His Dark Materials, having learned a few things from the previous film attempt to adapt the series, gives us a series that is a scathing indictment of dogmatic religion, as well as the mingled whimsy and danger that was always one of the most appealing things about the novels.

The first episode sets out in broad strokes the fantasy world that we’re being invited to inhabit, as well as the stakes of the conflict. Lyra is a young girl inhabiting Jordan College in Oxford, where she is treated kindly by the Scholars. However, the arrival of her uncle Lord Azriel threatens to complicate things, and she soon finds herself drawn into a prophecy of which she knows nothing, while sinister forces gather to try to destroy her.

I daresay that some people can’t help but be reminded of the previous attempt to adapt Pullman’s classic series into a visual form, the ill-fated 2007 film that, despite excellent production values and a truly star-studded cast–including an inspired choice of Nicole Kidman as Mrs. Coulter, Daniel Craig as Lord Azriel, Ian McKellen as the voice of Iorek, and Sam Elliott as Lee Scoresby–managed to fail at the box office. While the casting of HBO’s adaptation is truly exemplary, it strikes a series of different notes. James McAvoy’s Azriel is a little more dashing than Craig’s interpretation, and Ruth Wilson’s Marisa Coulter is less of an ice queen than Kidman, though she does have a great deal of sleek menace about her. And Dafne Keen and Lewin Lloyd are truly enchanting as Lyra and her friend Roger.

Unlike the film adaptation, which shied away from the religious aspect of the narrative so thoroughly that you’d be forgiven for missing it altogether, this new version is upfront about the fact that the Magisterium is a dogmatic and almost fascist organization intent on governing its world. Though we only get tantalizing glimpses of it so far in the first episode, these glimpses–which largely take place in a vast space with domineering imagery–as well as the Master of Jordan’s fear of reprisal for heresy, suggests that we’ll be seeing a great deal more of this sprawling organization’s attempts to enforce its will.

One thing that really stuck out to me about this new adaptation was the inclusion of people of colour, including the Master of Jordan, John Faa, and numerous others. This is of a piece with a broader movement within prestige television–particularly that produced in the UK–to include diverse members of their cast. I personally think this is a very good thing indeed, and I sincerely hope that American production companies take note of how these casting choices enrich their narratives.

All in all, I felt that the first episode of this series did a fine job of explaining to the viewer what this world looks like, the characters we should care about (most of them, as it turns out), as well as the stakes of the coming conflict. Given the fact that this is a HBO/BBC production, it is of course gorgeously shot, and I was especially impressed by the way that the series depicts the dæmons (it’s not always easy to make talking animals look serious, but somehow the show pulls it off). Though of course it isn’t necessary to read the books to enjoy the television adaptation, I do think that knowing the books–and the mysteries that they reveal–does add an extra layer of pleasure to the viewing experience. I cannot wait to see what else this series has in store for us. One thing I’m really looking forward to? ARMORED BEARS.

Stay tuned!

Fantasy Classics: “Naamah’s Blessing” (by Jacqueline Carey)

Warning: Some spoilers for the novel follow.

And so we come at last to the finale of the Kushiel books (at least, those that have been written so far), in which Moirin finds herself faced with yet another challenge, this time to pursue the missing Prince Thierry to the lands known as Terra Nova, where he has disappeared into the jungle, along with several of his fellows. Throughout the book, Moirin must confront the consequences of her previous actions, and she must at last come face-to-face with her one-time lover and now enemy Raphael.

Though it ultimately does have a happy ending, there are a few sacrifices made along the way. There is, of course, Queen Jeanne, whose death in the previous novel continues to cast a long shadow. And, in this novel, we unfortunately witness the suicide of King Daniel who, falling into despair at the news of his son’s supposed death, takes his own life, leaving behind his beautiful young daughter. As a result of Daniel’s death, Moirin finds herself one of the few in the realm who genuinely has the young princess’s well-being at heart, and the scenes between them are some of the most heartwarming in the entire novel.

Of course, the central tragedy of the novel belongs to Raphael who, afflicted by his guilt over his mother and sister’s death–along with the shred of the fallen spirit Focalor that still inhabits his flesh–tries to set himself up as a god-king in Terra Nova, and it is only Moirin’s timely intervention that stops him. Raphael’s tragedy is that, ambitious and brilliant as he is, he seems unable to realize (or accept) his own limits. As a result, he continues to push at the boundaries of the possible and the acceptable, plunging so far into madness that there is ultimately no salvation for him except through death.

As with the other entries in the Kushiel series, this book probes as some of the most vexing questions with which humanity has to contend: do the gods have a purpose for us, and if so, what is it? How do we know what to do in any given circumstance? In this case, Moirin can gain only small glimpses of her destiny, granted to her by Jeanne, who has been given a slight ability to change and shape events as they transpire in the world of the living. Time and again, however, Moirin has to make her own choices and how that they do not lead her astray.

What I’ve always appreciated about this series is the way in which Carey continues, throughout its run, to expand her lens to take in almost every continent of this fictional world. In this case, she takes us to Terra Nova, most of which has obvious influences from both Aztec and Incan cultures. Given that those have always been particularly fascinating to me, I’m glad that we got to see their equivalent in this fantasy universe.

And, I’ll be honest, while at times the novel does fall a bit into the white savior narrative pattern (Carey is hardly alone in falling into this trap; see also: George RR Martin), it is refreshing to see a depiction of the ancient cultures of Mexico and South America that doesn’t simply exoticize the or focus on their blood sacrifices to the exclusion of all else. This is not to say that Carey glosses over them, however. Even Moirin, who feels a measure of revulsion at what she sees as barbarian practices, finally has to contend with the fact that there may well be times when the gods call for blood and that in such times the only things humans can do is to offer it.

And, just as importantly, she also paints us a portrait of a world in which the dark and terrible forces of colonialism were allowed to follow a different path. Thanks to the influence of those from Terre D’Ange, there is now a possibility that there can be friendly relations between the two continents. Indeed, one of the good things that Raphael does is to ensure that Old World diseases do not decimate New World populations. It’s nice to think that, in some point in the distant future in this world, there might be a more peaceful and verdant future than the one that we inhabit in ours.

Perhaps most importantly, the novel finally gives Moirin the happy ending that she’s longed for, reunited with her family in Alba yet also with one foot remaining in Terre D’Ange. As with its predecessors, this novel is very much about the power of female desire and female friendships. And, once again, it is the essential power of these things that saves Terra Nova, and perhaps the very world itself, from calamity.

As I’ve said before, I’ve been dreading reading this novel for a while, because it would mean that I’d finally come to the chronological end of the saga. Now that I’m here, I have to say that I do feel completely satisfied with the way that things have transpired, both for Moirin and for the realms of which she is a part. It’s always so nice to read a book in which the main character ends up happy, her grand destiny fulfilled. Grimdark has its place, but so do novels like these.

I’d be lying, though, if I said I didn’t harbor some hope that Carey will one day return to this world, perhaps with either a prequel series of a sequel. Though, as far a I know, she hasn’t said she’ll do either of those things, I continue to think about the many issues that these novels have raised. While I might have finished them, I have no doubt that these will be some of the books that I return to again and again, whenever I feel the need to immerse myself in a world of beauty and desire and of terrible destinies fulfilled.

I can offer no higher praise than that.