Tag: Spoilers

Are we really this depraved?

Es the Book HoarderLeave a comment

Well, that’s a bit bleak.

This book has been on my tbr for a while, but the other day (Monday) I was at work when I noticed a customer reading it. I struck up conversation – as I usually do when I see a reader – and found that she usually reads biographies rather than fiction, but had a desire to get into the latter, and had gone to the Waterstones and picked up Tender is the Flesh, recommended by the staff there (who are awesome, by the way.) Anyway, I got chatting and went to Waterstones to get them a copy of Empire of the Vampire, as it seemed like something they’d enjoy, given our conversation, and that was that. Or so I thought.

The next day, they came back in the morning and left Tender is the Flesh for me to read. Which was very lovely of them, and I can’t wait to find out their thoughts, but in the meantime, here are mine.

I’ve ruminated on this book since I threw it down after the last sentence. I literally cannot get it out of my head – I’ve read reviews, both positive and negative, scanned reddit threads, scoped outsources of information about it and had a rather disconcerting conversation with a co-worker, who hasn’t read it, but was quite happy for me to vent my thoughts and feelings.

There are lots of those.

I cannot in good conscience say that I “enjoyed” this short novel, but I also cannot say that I hated it, or, contrary to some other views say that it’s not worth the paper it’s written on. On the contrary, I believe the opposite of that is true. At surface level, one may take this book to be unworthy of the ‘hype’ it has received in the past: indeed, I have seen it described as shallow, disjointed, lacking plot, being a pro-vegan statement, lacking any depth or consideration of intelligence, badly written and/or translated and ultimately shocking for the sake of it.

I don’t agree with any of those sentiments. In fact, I vehemently disagree with them, because I think that the readers who have seen those things, are only seeing the thinly veiled surface of this novel, and that’s such a shame. In fact, it’s even more of a shame because one of the themes of the novel is how humans can be actively ignorant of so many things…

I’m one of those humans. That’s the kicker.

The book is centred around cannibalism. I suppose that’s why it gets filed into the ‘horror’ category, but it’s not so much horror as it is ‘terrifying dystopia.’ I don’t usually do synopsis/plot in reviews, because if you’re reading reviews, chances are high that you already know what the book is about. Yet I think, in this case, it’s so much more than a category, and so much more than the blurb can say. The blurb on the back of the copy I read is as follows:

If everyone was eating human meat, would you?

Marcos is in the business of slaughtering humans – only no one calls them that. He works with numbers, consignments, processing. One day he’s given a specimen of the finest quality. He leaves her ties up in an outhouse, a problem to be disposed of later.

But she haunts Marcos. Her trembling body, and watchful gaze, seem to understand. And soon, he becomes tortured by what has been lost – and what might still be saved…

It should be noted I went into this book blind. The only thing I knew was that it involved cannibals. I didn’t realise the actual extent until I started reading.  I finished in one session because even though the content was appalling, I could not put it down, because at the same time, it was a compelling read. The book is told in third person, so it’s obviously an unreliable narrator, but it really does give insight into its focal character – Marcos – if you pay enough attention.

First of note is that Marcos is grieving – he’s recently lost a son whose conception was more than difficult – it becomes apparent exactly how difficult throughout the narrative that IVF treatments etc were ineffective for the most part. When his wife, Cecilia, does conceive, the baby boy dies of SIDS, colloquially known as cot-death. This results in the inevitable grief of both parents, with Cecilia retreating to her mother’s house and Marcos continuing his existence in the family home, working a job in a combined abattoir and tannery – a processing plant – for ‘special meat’ – it’s not animals, it’s humans, because an unexplained “virus” has made all meat inedible, as it causes death for mankind. Scientists have deemed that animal protein is necessary to live and magazines publish the “dark side” of vegetables and that plant protein is not enough to survive.

Suspend your disbelief people.

The “Transition” from animal meat to human meat is just that, and it happens quickly – within a generation in fact. Butchers adapt, as does language regarding “meat” – feet and hands becoming upper and lower extremities, tongues, penises, noses and testicles becoming “delicacies.”

As Marcos’ job is to procure “meat” or “heads” from industrial factory farms, he is aware of all rules, regulations and no-no’s regarding processes, treatments, legal requirements and procedures that must be followed to the letter. We see him, through our narrator as conflicted about the fact that this “meat” is human, and he is portrayed as seeing all the current events as barbaric, an atrocity, yet he continues to work in the industry because his father is suffering with a form of dementia that requires expensive care in a home. He works for necessity. 

It is clear from the outset that Marcos is grieving and assessing his place in this new world, and when he visits a “breeding centre” from whom his company procure its “cattle” he alludes to various problems with the products that have been received in recent shipment. As a result, the owner of said company sends Marcos a personal gift – his own FGP – a 20-something old female who has not been medically altered to enhance growth but has been “raised” naturally – free range is what we’d call it if we were discussing chickens.

For the next twenty or so chapters, we are treated to a full-blown explanation with descriptions as to how “heads” are procured, treated, slaughtered and made into “meat” – this is juxtaposed with scenes from Marcos’ perceived relationship with his “gift,” who he names Jasmine.

It’s a harrowing experience, to say the least.

After raping her, Marcos “humanises” the “head” – he teaches her to wash and dress herself, spends time with her watching TV, kisses here head and sings her songs, then eventually discovers that she is pregnant. His father dies. What lack of relationship he has with his sister breaks down completely – unsurprisingly considering her twins discuss at the dinner table what their uncle might taste like, as well as the fact that she herself has a “head” in her fridge that she serves to guests at the wake.

There are fleeting discussions of the government lying about the virus, that the ultimate reason for the lie is to cull the people due to over-population of the planet, but nothing much comes of that. There is mention if the sadistic side of human nature – hunting celebrities to resolve debts, trafficking on the black market, savages (those living in extreme poverty) that are so ravenous that they eat people alive and plan attacks on the trucks that deliver “produce” to the processing plant – resulting in deaths of many – innocent workers included. There is extremist religious activity in a church/cult called the Church of Immolation, where it’s members “volunteer” to be sacrificed for the greater good of humanity – to atone for their sins for resorting to cannibalism and the like – yet they are, unknown to the congregations, simply thrown to the savages to be torn apart and eaten alive.

Through all of this, Marcos is indifferent, apathetic. It just is what it is. The narrative reflects that he is conflicted, but his actions do not. He indulges in the society he is part of. He wilfully wants to control people – including a female butcher who had adapted to the current society and is seemingly stone-faced about the Transition, and in fact capitalises from it.

This is not a ‘do not eat meat’ narrative. It really isn’t. This is a ‘humanity is essentially depraved and inherently evil’ narrative. You just need to get under the skin of it. (Pun unintentional, honestly.)

Yes, there are themes involving cognitive dissonance; there is the absurdity that within a generation, people would resort to cannibalism and easily accept the industrial farming of humans – but under all this, there is so much more…

– How easily society normalises atrocities

– The depravity of human nature

– How language can become a tool of control

– How easily we are manipulated by the government and media

The punch in the gut becomes apparent only in the last pages, Jasmine is pregnant and there’s a problem with the birth – the baby is breach – it hasn’t turned – so the feet are coming first. Marcos panics and calls his wife – she comes straight away – which shows that his thoughts previously about there being no reconciliation were unfounded. She berates him for having sex with a “head” but as soon as she realises the baby is in trouble, she helps. The baby is born – it’s a boy. This is the sucker punch. Readers have been led to believe that Marcos cares – that’s our humanity right there as it stands – we believe for the best in people. It’s our flaw – believing what we are led to believe.  Jasmine gives birth, with Cecilia’s help. She reaches for the baby – an innate, human instinct – and Marcos hits her with a club before dragging her to the barn for slaughter.

His final words are this:

She had the human look of a domesticated animal.

There are lots, and I mean, lots of speculation about what this means…. He saw her as a pet, he planned it from the beginning, he was always evil, this was his final test etc…

I believe he was simply in a state of grief throughout the entirety – there was no pre-meditation. Jasmine was at best a pet, at worst an incubator, a means for him and his family to return to the norm. Killing her was necessary because he would have been caught otherwise. Marcos succumbed to the norm instead of fighting against it, because it was in his best interests to do so. Cecilia did the same.

The novel began bleak, it ended bleak. There is no hope for humanity here. In fact, there is no humanity here. In less than a generation, humanity has turned into a barbaric, extremist culture with no morality to speak of. It has been manipulated into believing that in order to survive it must consume itself.

This novel highlights not only the power of government, but also the power of media and most importantly the power of language.

When I spoke to my co-worker about this book, because I needed to talk about it – I was disgusted that I used the wording from the book – that I referred to humans as meat and flesh and heads. I appalled even myself. That is the effect if you really read and digest this novel. We are, as humans, none beyond corruption – it’s not about veganism, it’s not about criticising factory farming, it’s not about ethical consumerism – although those are themes it covers – at its very core it’s about the nature of human depravity. It’s visceral, it’s intense, it is about how far we will go, in order to survive above all others, and how we are all monsters.

As a fellow Goodreads reviewer states (Jr Bacdayan)

The infinite capacity of human beings to adapt is a powerful phenomenon… Behind its depictions of human slaughter and cannibalism you’ll find yourself intoxicated by its morbid truths.

The Beginning of Rebellion

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Poisoned Berries & the Benefits of Cliff-hangers

I’ll be the first to admit that The Hunger Games (THG) isn’t much of a ‘new’ read for most – if you’ve not read the books, you’ve probably seen the films. What can I say? I always manage to be late to the party, and it’s true here for both the books and the movies. Over the festive period of 2023, I stumbled across a marathon of THG on the gogglebox – now normally, I’d read books before watching any type of adaptation, but after about five minutes of watching, somewhere in the middle of Catching Fire, I got intrigued, and started from the beginning.

Yes, I binged watched. The entire thing. Twice.

Then I got to thinking (which is never a very good thing and usually results in me causing myself more work than necessary.) I knew I had the trilogy buried somewhere in my extremely disorganised bookshelves, so I went to find them. Four days and a whole room of semi-organised shelves later, I sat down and started the first book – and I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised.

There are elements of the book that add a depth that you simply don’t get by watching the movie first and it was those additional elements that kept me turning the pages. Katniss is thrown into a situation that she had deliberately tried to avoid, for both herself and her sister. This right here is the hook – in the movie, it’s honourable and brave – and it’s the same in the book, but add to that the explanation of how the drawing works and there’s a whole extra shock factor – Katniss’ has 20 entries into the draw for the games – because of the convoluted nature of the capitol and how it oppresses it’s people. Twenty. Accumulated over 4 years. Her sister has one, only because Katniss refused to allow her to increase that amount by using the Tesserae (an option to add your name into the draw for a meagre supply of food supplies) thereby limiting her chances of being chosen. So the fact that Prim’s name is called, and that Katniss volunteers is even more shocking because it illustrates, emphasises and reflects the hopelessness of the society in which she lives.

“There must have been some mistake. This can’t be happening. Prim was one slip of paper in thousands! Her chances of being chosen were so remote that I’d not even bothered to worry about her. Hadn’t I done everything? Taken the tesserae, refused to let her do the same? One slip. One slip in thousands. The odds had been entirely in hear favour. But it hadn’t mattered.”

Katniss already had to grow up too quickly – the care of her family becoming her responsibility when her mother suffered what can only be seen as a significant mental breakdown after the death of her husband. Everything she has ever done has been for Prim, and volunteering is no different – yet it is. The odds of her survival are not high, particularly when there are kids from other districts who are specifically trained to become tributes for the games. She knows that she is most likely going to die, and she handles it particularly well, considering the circumstances. I found her to be full of nervous energy, and a remarkable amount of anger – understandably so – but I also think that Katniss had spent so long looking after everyone else, that she’d lost her own identity, because of what she had to do and who she had to be in order to survive. Katniss has self-awareness, but low self-esteem. She’s described as sullen and hostile, which again I wasn’t surprised about, and it’s with Cinna (who I loved by the way, book and film both) who she finds the comfort to be herself.

But where Katniss shines the most is in the arena, because the Katniss in the arena is in survival mode, just like she’s been at home – except now it really is a matter of life or death. From that first moment where she ignores Haymitch’s advice and runs for the equipment shows her true nature – it’s not rebellion against authority, it’s simply who she is – she’s a fighter. She’s also skilled as a hunter, caring as an ally and vulnerable in her grief and ruminations about her emotions. That vulnerability, expected in any 16 year old girl, is what she cannot reconcile to herself, but it’s one of the most endearing traits she has. I like kick ass Katniss – the hunting, the running away from fireballs, the whole tracker-jacker scene and destroying the Career’s supply stash pyramid – it’s all very exciting and well-written. She is bad ass. But I love vulnerable Katniss: when she loves, it’s fierce.

“I’ve no idea where to go. The brief sense of home I had that one night with Rue has vanished. My feet wander this way and that until sunset. I’m not afraid, not even watchful. Which makes me an easy target. Except I’d kill anyone I met on sight. Without emotion or the slightest tremor in my hands. My hatred of the Capitol has not lessened my hatred of my competitors in the least. Especially the Careers. They, at least, can be made to pay for Rue’s death.”

But for all that, I feel like it sort of fell flat near the end… Letting Cato suffer during the ‘muttation’ attack (although it was extremely disconcerting that they shared features of the dead tributes – what on earth are the Capitol doing there? scary) felt out of place, and I preferred the way the film dealt with it, although it did serve to remind how the citizens viewed the games – prolonged suffering=more entertainment. I guess I just didn’t feel it was necessary. And the berries suicide scene was anti-climactic.

Then, Katniss simply slipped back into who she was before… and come the end of the final chapter (27 in my copy) we’re left with the remnants of a relationship, and some worries about the future. It kind of just, fizzled out…

So, I pretend that it ended in the previous chapter, and chapter 27 happens as a flashback/intro to Catching Fire, because this knife edge, this tension is how I think it should have ended. I’m not going to quote it all, but just these little sections really caught my eye. Plus I think ending on this kind of cliff-hanger is awesome.

“When I left the arena, when the trumpets played, I was supposed to be safe. From then on. For the rest of my life.”

There’s the hook.

Here’s the kicker.

“There are questions to be unravelled back home, in the peace and quiet of the woods, when no one is watching. Not here with every eye upon me. But I won’t have that luxury for who knows how long. And right now, the most dangerous part of the Hunger Games is about to begin.

Rating: 4/5 Stars

Fat Bottomed Mages

Es the Book HoarderLeave a comment

You make the Malaz’ world go round

I am utterly in love with this story, and have completely fallen for Tattersail hook, line and sinker.

My feelings for this book are quite odd – by which I mean, unusual, in comparison to what I have read on the internet and various groups/reviews etc. I have always loved literature, and usually my choices are psychological thriller, police procedural (think Criminal Minds) and horror (namely Stephen King) or poetry (which I absolutely adore, and do not read anywhere enough of.) A very good friend introduced me to Roger Zelazny and the amazing Chronicles of Amber and then Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive in late 2022: I joined a few groups, my tbr list increased exponentially, and I found myself extremely enjoying the fantasy genre. In every other post I saw on a particular Facebook group, Malazan was recommended, so when the opportunity came up to read the series with a discussion group, I jumped at the chance. But I never imagined that it would be as good as it is. I have completely fallen in love with reading again. I’m getting excited about the next discussions, looking forward to being able to talk to people about my experiences and theories and just basically rambling about ideas and thoughts and everything that I think is amazing, or not as the case may be. I feel at home with this genre. That’s not to say that others are bad, or that I won’t go back to them, I just can’t believe how much I’m enjoying it and why it took me so long to get here!

At the time of posting, I’ve actually finished Gardens of the Moon – I got swept away with the narrative and just let the story lead me. I love it when that happens – when you’re so engaged with the story that continuing becomes the only thing you want to do; when you get pulled into a world so deeply that you feel like you know it, and the people who are in it. Erikson’s prose is engaging, the pace and plot progress well and I am really looking forward to the next book (in fact, it’s already on my shelf waiting for me to pick it up!

But I digress… Fat Bottomed Mages most definitely make Malazan more interesting – at least for me. Tattersail is one of the most intriguing characters in GotM and as of Chapter Three, we’ve not seen that much of her. I’m not going to go into the poetry in the epigraph, because I’m doing a separate post on that, and probably a separate section, because I think that they (the epigraphs) could prove to be integral to the overall plot of the series, so I’m revisiting them after completion of the book as a whole and including my initial thoughts on them in those posts.

And I’m waffling again. Apologies. Here follows my thoughts on the next couple of chapters which will complete Book One.

Chapter Three: Legends

Ganoes Paran is now Captain, and we see how his mission has affected him because he’s pretty much a wreck – he’s questioning what he’s doing and even in front of the Claw, Topper, he’s wearing his feelings on his shirt sleeves, which might not be the best idea. Even though he’s taking everything in his stride, there’s a sense of uncertainty that surrounds him; from riding a Quorl to his memory of Whiskeyjack and his ruminations about the Empire and the Empress, Paran seems to be walking a fine line between conscience and duty.

Again, there’s another great section that’s full of uncertainty
– with the Mages, we see Tattersail trying to convince Bellurdan of the betrayal , but he’s having none of it.
– with the Bridgeburners, we see them trying to convince WhiskeyJack that the Empress wants them dead, but he’s not so sure or is unwilling to believe it, and he’s still not totally certain about what’s happening with Sorry.

If I had any doubt that Tattersail is more powerful that even she seems to know, it was thwarted with the next reading from the Deck of Dragons for Tayschrenn. I’m really intrigued about these cards and readings and wonder if they’ll play a major part as the story goes on. Also, it was interesting that there was the presence of an ‘Ascendant’ – we didn’t get that last time, unless I missed it. Lots of the the information that Tattersail was sharing from the Deck mirrored the plot, and I thought that was a brilliant way of tying things together without it being contrived. We also got insight into Tayschrenn’s power and his allegiance, and that led to a decision from Tattersail, which I think will prove significant.

‘Deliver, in person, this message to Sergeant WhiskeyJack, Bridgeburners. The fat lady with the spells wants to talk.’

– Tattersail to a young soldier

I was completely shocked at the ending of this chapter – I mean, I understand why Paran got stabbed – I just wasn’t expecting it happen – I knew that it was going to at some point, and I’m really interested in seeing how this goes. He hears the spinning coin after all. And if Tattersail’s reading is anywhere near accurate, which so far it is, I wouldn’t imagine that Oponn would let Ammanas and Cotillion get away with killing Paran, regardless of who they used to do it.

Other things of note:

  • Toc the Younger seems like he’s one to watch – he doesn’t seem to be the same type of Claw that we’ve seen so far – well, the only Claw we’ve seen so far, which is Topper. It’s interesting how much he knows and that he’s from the 2nd, like Tattersail.
Chapter Four: Insane Puppets & Angry Hounds

There’s so much crammed into this chapter it’s totally and utterly bonkers. Alliances are being forged and characters are developing amazingly because of that – Erikson’s ability to make characters feel ‘real’ so quickly is refreshing – I don’t know if it’s just because as a reader I’ve been thrown into the deep-end with them and so I’m more aware of their personalities, but there are only a handful of fantasy books that I’ve read where characters have been so deeply developed in such a short space of time that they feel like old friends – they feel familiar, but they are unique – they share their insights and thoughts in conversation with each other, and obviously these scenarios involve something I’ve seen called “expo-dumps” but at the same time, they’re not expo-dumps because it’s dialogue. Colour me confused, because I’ve seen readers of Malazan and other fantasy works say they dislike these sort of things – personally, I love being fed the little tidbits that leave you asking questions and watching for the answers. Maybe it’s just me.

I didn’t think that Oponn would get involved in the “death” of Paran that directly, but again, I loved that it gave us more insight into not only the Oponn twins, and especially Shadowthrone and his Hounds. Paran was very clever in his manipulation of the ‘god’ but I was left confused as to why he felt so hostile to the dogs – maybe it was because he realised that they were behind the massacre at Itko Kan.

The Deck of Dragons. Considering that Tattersail had avoided the Deck for a while prior to the Seige of Pale, she’s suddenly drawn to it – a lot – that in itself is intriguing, and this particular reading feeels like it’s significant. The ‘reading‘ she does in this chapter is exceptional: on the reader’s part it leaves a lot of things to look forward to, but for Tattersail herself, it’s overwhelming and kind of scary, especially with everything that’s happened so far. And it’s only chapter four!!!!

…She had chosen a spiral pattern, working her way through the entire Deck of Dragons and arriving with a final card, which could mark either an apex or an epiphany depending on how it placed itself…

Again, it feels like the cards themselves are alive. I love the imagery that Erikson uses; it just amplifies the intrigue.

The Knight’s sword reached a black, smoky streak towards the Hound at the spiral’s apex, and in this instance she knew its meaning. The future held a clash between the Knght and High House Shadow…It was rare to s ee such a clear and direct link between two Houses: the potential for devastation left her cold with worry. Blood spilled on such a high level of power cast aftershocks down through the world.

What she’s seeing here has extreme after effects and what she sees next is even more relevant to the next occurences. This element of foresight through the prose (and poetry) is one I’m absolutely loving. It just totally ramps up the tension, and keeps me on the edge of my seat.

The image sank once again into its viscid pool, but it left her changed. There would be no running away this time. Her eyes returned one last time to the Hound. The beast’s eyes seemed to burn with yellow fire, boring into her as if seeking to brand her soul.

  • Fiddler from the Bridgeburners seems to have some kind of foresight? He was spot on about the incident with the Hound happening, not the details mind, just the occurence.
  • I’m very interested in seeing what happens with the Black Moranth and the Quorl
  • The uncertainty regarding Sorry is rising, and her actions are even freaking out WhiskeyJack
  • Tattersail is more powerful that anyone believes
  • Hairlock is a nutter
  • How did Paran manage to injure the Hound with his sword?
  • Tattersail still hears the spinning coin

The next book in the book is Darujhistan. Our journey continues…

Slaughters and Massacres

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Following on from the strange opening to the chapter, we return to someone we met earlier…

Chapter One – A Distraction

‘One hundred and seventy-five men and women. Two hundred and ten horses. The Nineteenth Regiment of the Itko Kanese Eighth Cavalry.’ The Captain’s throat tightened briefly . He looked at Lorn. ‘Dead’ His horse shied under him as it caught an updraft. He closed savagely on the reins and the animal stilled, nostrils wide and ears back, muscles trembling under him. The Adjunct’s stallion made no move. ‘All had their weapons bared. All fought whatever enemy attacked them. But the dead are all ours.’

– Un-named Captain to Adjunct Lorn, Ch. 1

This entire section was completely disconcerting. It’s not just the people mentioned in the above extract that are dead – there are plenty more – as we discover when Ganoes Paran, now a Lieutenant is tasked to take the Adjunct through the massacre to investigate a couple of beach huts that were found empty. Which seems like an odd thing to do, especially after she gives orders to the un-named captain to ensure that ‘all evidence of the massacre is to be erased.’ The only reason I can think of for that to be important is that it means Empress Laseen wants to keep up appearances – wants to maintain an illusion of control – and the knowledge/evidence of an attack such as this would undermine that and give her enemies an “edge”. I don’t know, I’m not an expert when it comes to that sort of thing. Anyway, I digress.

One of the things I like about this section is how much we see of Paran, and the type of person he’s become. I mean, obviously he’s older – the last time we saw him he was 12 and now he’s 19, so he’s still young, and with that comes a cockiness, or arrogance, which is apparent when he talks about being stationed in Unta. But he’s also pretty ballsy, and not scared about being blunt – and it’s clear that this has come from his experience on the front line.

‘Adjunct, for the past seven hours I have been knee-deep in torn flesh and spilled blood. I’ve been fighting crows and gulls for bodies – do you know what these birds are doing here? Precisely? They’re tearing off strips of meat and fighting over them; they’re getting fat on eyeballs and tongues, livers and hearts. In their frantic greed they fling the meat around…’ He paused, visibly regaining control over himself as he straightened in his saddle. ‘I’m not young any more, Adjunct. As for presumption, I honestly couldn’t care less. Truth can’t be danced around, not out here, not now, not ever again.’

– Ganoes Paran to Lorn, Ch 1.

As it turns out, this brutal honesty gets him onto the Adjunct’s team. Whether this is a good thing or not remains to be seen, but one thing is certain – the devastation of the ‘diversion’ of the first slaughter, is nothing compared to what he finds on the first mission that he is assigned. The Adjunct send him to the town where recruits are signed to fight for the Empire. We see the girl, Sorry, sign up for the Genebackis Campaign – specifically asking to be part of Whiskeyjack’s crew – and also that Lorn, the Adjunct had arrive from Unta only ten minutes before-hand. Sorry’s feet are stained red.

What Paran finds in Gerrom is harrowing. ‘A thorough eliminating of the trail’ he calls it. The distraction, left more destruction in its wake. And it’s so disconcerting it’s palpable. By the time Paran arrives in Unta through a magical warren and meets Laseen in her throne room in a scene I can only describe as being some sort of warped comedic relief, I was so overwhelmed with the emptiness of it all, that the other details didn’t hit me until I looked at the section again. There’s quite a bit here that was interesting:

  • The slaughter by the hounds and subsequent sorcery performed in Gerrom was supposed to distract the Adjunct and the Empress in order to stop them finding out about Sorry.
  • Paran’s meeting with Topper introduced us to magical warrens, used to travel vast distances very quickly.
  • The Empress recognised Ganoes and remembered the conversation he had with the Commander at Mock’s Hold. Having read chapter 2, I thought that it was really interesting that Laseen says this: ‘I wonder what god tossed you two together on that parapet – I would do service to acknowledge its sense of humour.’
  • Topper wasn’t happy that he didn’t know Paran and the Empress had met before
  • Paran isn’t very comfortable being back home
  • His youngest sister Felisin is the poet from the prologue?

And just when I thought I couldn’t get more distressed, we enter another battle two years later. From the information given to us in the extract from Imperial Campaigns 1158-1194 at the beginning of Chapter One, we can see that there are quite a few armies, contracted by the Free Cities that are working to oppose the Empress, including sorcerers – namely the Tiste Andii of Moon’s Spawn. This is interesting, particular given that we learned that Empress Laseen has prohibited sorcery.

In the Year of Burn’s Sleep 1163, the Siege of Pale ended with a now legendary sorcerous conflagration…

– Imperial Campaigns Extract, Ch. 1
Chapter Two – The Fall of Pale

‘On the third hill overlooking the fallen city of Pale, Tattersail stood alone. Scattered around the sorceress the curled remains of burnt armour – greaves, breastplates, helms and weapons – lay heaped in piles. An hour earlier, there had been men and women wearing that armour, but of them there was no sign. The silence within those empty shells rang like a dirge in Tattersail’s head.’

This chapter completely devastated me if I’m completely honest. Everything was so visceral, so real that I got swept away in the narrative and when I’d finished the section I felt like I needed a break. It was so intense. There is so much going on here, that it was totally batshit crazy – from Hairlock being cut in half and re-souled as a puppet which is really freaky because I imagine him to look something like this:

And then you have the immense loss of the Bridgeburners – from nearly one a half thousand to just thirty or so makes the losses in the previous chapter look mild in comparison – and then the betrayal.

I was furious, and upset and all discombobulated about the whole thing.

But my life, it was enjoyable! The sorcery battle was so immense – and our introduction to Lord Anomander Rake is not one that’s going to be forgotten any time soon. This is one powerful guy. There are so many pieces of this chapter that I loved reading – if I quoted them all, I’d end up typing the whole chapter out! I also really enjoyed that we learned more about the history of the Empire, but that again, it wasn’t written like an info dump. I’m finding the Bridgeburners a really interesting crew. We’ve discovered that the fisher-girl, Sorry is now with them and that she’s exhibiting powers of some sort because they all find her downright scary – and if this young girl can scare the pants off these soldiers and mages – that’s extremely disconcerting to say the least.

I was enthralled with The Fatid – The Deck of Dragons – and the way the cards “spoke” to Tattersail – and yet Hairlock, who has been presented as more ‘powerful’ than her, wasn’t aware of the spinning coin – which leaves me wondering if he’s as powerful as he thinks, or if it’s something to do with resonance between the reader of the cards and the cards themselves? There’s definitely more to them than just being a deck of cards, at least I think there is.

General notes and thoughts so far:

  • I’m loving Erikson’s writing style still – world-building, characters and now battle scenes, and they’re all extremely well done, the pacing is great and the imagery is just stunning.
  • The plot is becoming more intriguing now that there are added elements – Hairlock’s ‘survival’, Tayschrenn’s betrayal, the Bridgeburner’s involvement, and Oponn’s spinning coin are all equally intriguing.
  • The epigraphs are still fabulous, and all hold significance. I don’t think that they will necessarily all make sense by the end of the book, but I’d imagine that once I’ve finished GotM, that the meaning behind the ones I’m having more difficulty analysing and understanding will be a lot more apparent.