I’ve read the whole Narnia and Earthsea series, and I know well not only The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings but The Silmarillion and The Children of Hurin, too. As you see, I was more focused on the classical fantasy series than on the books which have became popular more recently. The Song of Ice and Fire is an exception. I’ve read dozens of fantasy books, but usually not the most famous ones. I’ve only heard about Patrick Rothfuss, Brandon Sanderson, Robin Hobb or Brent Weeks. A few months ago I decided to read some of both very popular and relatively recently written fantasy books. I choose to begin with Robin Hobb’s The Farseer Trilogy. It was commonly praised as a really well written fantasy, lyrical and original. I was a bit sceptical, because when it came down to the style, books of George R. R. Martin — also widely praised — dissapointed me. So, did I like The Farseer Trilogy? Did I find it more original than a typical fantasy book? It is not important, but I’ll try examine these questions at first. Did I expected some subversive or revolutionary descriptions of social tensions, forms of governing and so? Not. And maybe it’s better that I didn’t expect it.
The Style and The Tropes
Many reviewers claims that The Farseer Trilogy is exceedingly well written and original. Well, if we look at the style of these books, we’ll see that one thing distinguishes the trilogy from most fantasy books. It is written not in the third person narration or in a typical POV (like ASoIaF) but in the first person narration. The whole story is told from the perspective of Fitz, a bastard son of prince Chivalry.
Honestly, I do not find it original. Describing the story from the first person narration of a single hero is nothing new to literature. It is actually a method much older than POVs or the stream of consciousness. It was commonly used, for example, by Robert Luis Stevenson. And sometimes The Farseer Trilogy resembles a lot all these nineteenth-century adventure books in its mix of quite detached style and first person narration. The style — as for fantasy books — is very good, apparently better than at Martin’s. I can imagine the Six Duchies much more easier than Westeros. But for me it couldn’t be compared with the prose of Tolkien or Le Guin, or Sofia Samatar. It is outstanding in comparison with most YA and fantasy books, but out of its genre it is just decent. Some descriptions are too long and detached — especially in the Assassin’s Quest when it comes to Fitz’s journey to the Mountain Kingdom — and the vocabulary tends to be… Strange. Probably Hobb wanted her characters to sound archaic, but instead it turns out to be anachronic. I was more amused than captivated by the descriptions of feasts and outfists, and Kettricken’s manners of speaking to Verity made me angry. Damn, even Kristin Lavransdatter didn’t adress her husband in such humbling and formal manner! And yeah, Sigrid Undset’s trilogy (especially in the new translation of Tiina Nunnally) is a good example of making your characters from Olden Days speak normally, with natural and comprehensible dialogues.
And the perspective of Fitz has one, very big flaw. The story told by only one character must be limited. But Hobb found two excusions: fragments of Fitz’s writings, and his Skill ability allowing to perceive things from the distance. From his chronicles we learn about details of the war in the interior Duchies, from his Skill dreams — about that what happened to Molly and Burrich in the last book. The problem with such plot devices is that Fitz is often not there, where something important is happening. Maybe it was intended to be original, but instead I found it dull and uninteresting. And this detachment makes Molly and Burrich plot too distant and not vivid enough. I can’t really care about their feelings and daily life, because they don’t tell about it themselves. It’s quite convenient to describe the whole plot of these two by Fitz’s dreams. And portrayal of Burrich and Molly leads us to another question — the tropes used in the trilogy. Without quite good style of Hobb, these tropes would look much more predictable. We have the whole gallery of archetypes here: a Royal Bastard (Fitz), a Good Old King (Shrewd), a Villain Prince and a Noble Prince (Regal and Verity), an Eccentric Woman (Patience), a Brave Queen (Kettricken), a Loyal Servant and a Harsh But Loving Guardian at once (Burrich), an Evil Sorcerer (Galen), First Love (Molly) and a Mysterious Assassin (Chade). These characters of course have their own dreams, goals, secrets and distinguishing looks, but in their cores they seem to remain archetypes. Nicely developed archetypes (except Regal who is so pretty, cold and greedy villain that it is even funny), but still archetypes. What’s more, it’s hard not to suspect that some of them were actually borrowed from other books, with tropes and customs as well. Kettricken with her pride and courage, with her height and golden hair, reminds me of Eowyn apparently too much. Specific naming custom of giving children names having meanings in the contemporary language is actually exactly like that one in the Earthsea realms. But ok, maybe this was inspired by the Puritan customs (all these names like Harmony or Verity) or the Spanish ones (believe me, names like Soledad or Ausencia have their meanings in Spanish, although I don’t know why people want to call their children “Solitude” or “Absence”). And, besides, Verity reminds me always not of a black-haired, bearded prince, but of Verity Poldark.
There are also numerous predictable plot tropes, especially when it comes to love stories. Molly and Fitz’s story is quite similar to all these stories about kids’ friendship changing into love, and then their Secret and Forbidden Romance (and Hidden Pregnancy as well) is so much like all that guilty-talking in Anna Karenina or Kristin Lavransdatter. When Molly decides to marry Burrich, it’s quite clear that there is another pattern: From Aid to Love and An Old Guy, but A Good Guy. I would be enchanted by their story, if only Burrich wasn’t so much older than Molly. It’s about twenty five years of the age-gap, and Molly is twenty. If she only were five or ten years older, I wouldn’t mind Burrich still being about quarter of century older. Because Molly would be a woman then, not actually a girl. And that is another troublesome aspect about this relationship. Molly married foster-father of her boyfriend. She married a guy about forty five, and SPOILER they had six sons together SPOILER. I don’t know why so many kids with so old man (yeah, believe me, having kids too lately is unreasonable not only for women, but ok, it’s different world). I don’t know why only sons. Maybe there is more inspiration from Kristin Lavransdatter here than I supposed. Anyway, I can’t explain you why, but for me the end of this plot is nasty.
In the relationship of Verity and Kettricken, there is also something disturbing. He is at least fifteen years older, and he is so preoccupied with OutIslanders war that he treats his wife quite indifferently. Kettricken does everything to catch his attention, and all that is just… Sad. Oh yeah, finally they fall in love when Verity must leave for searching of the Elderlings, but the next events in their story are even more disturbing. SPOILERS Regal takes charge, Kettricken must escape, and she losts her child. And then she blames herself for it. And when she and Fitz reach Verity, he is pouring his memories and feelings into a stony dragon connected with the Elderlings. It is crucial for defeating OutIslanders, and Verity is exhausted. He knows he’ll die, but he wants a heir. So Fitz is sleeping with Kettricken, but mentally it is Verity, end Kettricken gets pregnant. It’s… kinky. SPOILERS And, besides, the whole final plot with dragons and Elderlings is insufficient. I can only tell you that it is something like ending the plot of LoTR with the Gollum’s death, and then summarizing the rest on about twenty pages. This was one of the most dissapointing finals I’ve read, especially because the books didn’t have other huge plot flaws.
Yet I must admit that the Hobb’s universe is quite original. Oh yes, the Six Duchies is quite a stereotypical Medieval Kingdom, but it is internally consistent and described vividly. Some aspects, like the naming customs and the position of women, are unique. Yes, I was a bit distracted by the differences of the Buckkeep and Regal’s palace — the first is typically medieval, and the second one reminds me much more of Renessaince buildings. I found a desert in the moderate climate zone improbable, too. But these worldbuilding flaws weren’t big and at least explainable to an extent.
What is really original is the Mountain Kingdom and the forrest realms of the Elderlings (Martin? I supose I know the origins of your Asshai!). I am well aware that this quaintness came mainly from our wont to Western culture tropes and customs. Then Mountain Kingdom, a strange crossover of Rohirrims and maybe… Tibet and Japan? seems to be original. I liked the idea of Sacrifice in particular, and the attitude of the royal family towards work. It is so different from feudalism, authoritorianism and absolute monarchy, but from democracy, too. It is just something alien and original, something which we have to accept even if we are accustomed to different rules.
Mysterious ruins of Elderlings hidden in the forrests — again, we can find similar ruins in our world as well, in Middle and South America, for example. But from Western point of view, it is exotic, and so the lands of the Elderlings are also exotic and mysterious.
As you see, I had very mixed feelings about the style and the tropes in the Farseer Trilogy. I was irritated by many plots and characters, but still I think it was worth reading, especially for the realms and particular customs depicted there. In the next part, I’ll come to the social questions.
Left Hand of Fiction 