The first book in what promises to be a breathtaking series by Mister James Barclay crossed my desk today. That is, it entered from one direction, was consumed quicker than a hobbit by a dragon and then exited stage left.
And how was it?
It was a bitey snack of much goodness!
I've read Mister Barclay before. Huzzah! Finally an author I've read before. I read Dawnthief and Noonshade. A long long time ago in a Bookstore far far away. I enjoyed them, too. I never got around to the third, though, because he's not an author who seems to be floating in every bookshop. And I hope with this book, that will all change.
Elves. We've all read about them. A pansy race of limp-wristed long-haired girly men with an obsession for long words ending in lannanon and the like. Plenty of hippy environmentalism and the use of bows. What else? Beautiful skin and the grace of dancers. Pretty things with pretty tongues and squeaky clean. Yes. We've all read about elves.
But it seems Mister Barclay has read about them too. And he didn't quite like what he read. Or, at the very least, he saw room for improvement. And improve he did. Mister Barclay's elves are homicidal, ruthless, and seem about as environmentally friendly as a styrofoam cup.
Plotwise, it's a simple one (thank the gods) and is made shiny and fresh by the wonderful weaving of the characters at the deftly professional hand of Mister Barclay. One of the finest examples is the subtle shifting of power which glides through the novel. As those who seem in power, lose it, and those who seem not to be, gain it. It's an intriguing story, really. You could mistake it for being too simple because of the endless action sequences, but when you think about it at the end, it was actually extremely well told. It was a complicated plot told in a simple style and manner which was so impressive because it again underlines the argument I've been making lately that we need more of these character-driven fantasy novels. Ones which aren't bogged down in endless world-creation and thousands of pages of faux-mythology and randomly generated in-story legends. This reads like an epic novel which was gutted of the fluff, leaving a tight and dramatic story which pulls you along as though you've gone white water rafting on it without a helmet or a paddle.
I'm overly thrilled by this one, because it's so much fun. The action sequences are told in a way which shows Mister Barclay may just have been enjoying a lot of asian cinema lately. And there's a scene where thirty something of his elves attack "thousands" of men. And the men are horrified, their leader sitting back thinking "this is a slaughter" but he's not thinking about elves dying. He's watching his own get mowed down. It's so much fun it could be labelled EXTREME fantasy. And I am expressly patenting that term, so go buy your own.
It's fresh. It's brutal. It's paced and sparkly. You'll love it.
Gods, hurry up and give me the sequel!