Chandos the Red
Thu, 28th Apr '05, 5:31am
Deadhouse Gates by Steven Erikson *** 1/2
Second Volume of A Tale of the Malazon Book of the Fallen
Rating: Good - 3 1/2 out of 5 stars
There are a few questions that are probably as old as time itself: Is there no end to human strife? Or, is there no end to human stupidity? How about, human misery? Or, villainy? If you have ever asked yourself any of the above questions, Steven Erikson thinks he has the answer in Deadhouse Gates, his sequel to Gardens of the Moon. And his answer is: “Why no, no, there isn’t.” At least that is how it appears in Deadhouse Gates, which is a long, drawn out parade of all the above human, and inhumane, calamities. Of course, the story is a bit more than that, but that is the singular impression which one may come away with after reading this hefty installment of The Malazan Book of the Fallen.
The book is in many ways very different from its predecessor. If the plotting in Gardens moves like lightening, Deadhouse Gates crawls along at a snail’s pace; if the characters seemed a little underdeveloped in Gardens, we find out more about some of the characters than we will ever need to know about in this tale. Nevertheless, the main characters are memorable and are rendered quite well, while others are still out there somewhere in the distance, such as Laseen and Tavore. And although both are central figures in the story, they are but shadows on Deadhouse's vast stage.
The setting of Deadhouse is Raraku, the big, hot sandy desert, and the Seven Cities, which are in the state of a rebellion against the Empire. This is the biggest disappointment of the story. One can only take so much blowing sand storms, with “sand getting into everything” and characters with “parched throats,” “cracked lips” and “swollen eyes” for so long before it gets really old – let alone some 500 pages of it. And of course there are the tribal hordes, which resemble the Chinese hordes in their seemingly endless multitudes, and their ability to move quickly and with ease in a place that everyone else, in great misery and difficulty, crawls across.
The “good guys” of the story are still those veterans who make up the discontented ranks of the Empire’s army: We have the return of Kalan, Fiddler, and assorted hosts, from the Bridgeburners, and Duiker, the Imperial Historian of the army, as well as an allotment of new veterans: Kulp, Stormy, Truth, etc. As a twist on the story we have the continuation of the Paran family’s saga with both sisters, who are somewhat estranged (actually more like mortal enemies), and are, like their brother, at the center of the conflict, which is wrecking havoc on two continents at this point in the tale.
The story opens with Felisin, the younger Paran sister, who has been sent to the mines by her sister, Tavore, who is the new adjunct to the Empress. We know she is destined for some significant occurrence in the opening scene, where Hood appears before her, and singles her out from the crowd of prisoners (which can’t be that promising, since he is the God of Death). From there Felisin and her two traveling companions, two of the most human and memorable characters of the entire tale - Heboric Light Touch, and Baudin - begin their journey of transformation which makes up the central thread of the story. There are three other main plotlines: The Bridgeburners in their quest to kill the Empress, which is mentioned earlier, is a continuation from Gardens.
The third is the quest of Coltaine, commander of the 7th Army and his attempt to save the refugees who are fleeing the rebellion of the Seven Cities and the tribal hordes of the “Army of the Apocalypse.” This is also known as the “Chain of Dogs.” A very heroic attempt to fight their way across hundreds of leagues of desert carrying what water and provisions they can bear, while constantly being attacked by the hordes of the rebellion. The main character of this thread is Duiker, the historian, and again another memorable character, who helps make this story a little more humane.
The fourth plotline in the story is quite odd, considering the main thrust of the story. It involves two characters who aren’t human, or seem to have any interest in whatever else is happening in the story. One is the Trell, Mappo, the other, a lost Ascendant, a Jaghut, Icarium. Neither are humans, but beings of great power, and members of the “Path of Hands.” Their quest is to locate the source of a “convergence of powers,” which is connected to the appearance of a Deadhouse Gate. The gate is some sort of living, organic hyper-traveling device, which also attracts powerful creatures and imprisons them. The Gate is thought to be a device that may help Icarium discover who he really is.
There are minor threads that run through the tale, such as the strange, romantic interest between Crokos and Apsalar, who are holdovers from Gardens. And then there is the appearance of Pust, high priest of Shadowthrone and like, Mappo and Icarium a member of the “Path of Hands.” Like any other epic tale, there is the usual assortment of wholly despicable villains, who are off on self-serving quests of their own.
The tale is a load of strife, villainy, suffering, and at times, downright stupidity, all culminating in the gory and inhumane deaths of tens of thousands of soldiers, refugees, escapees, old folk, women, babies, boys, girls, children of all ages, horses, and even a few dogs thrown in for good measure (what, no camels?), mostly as a result of the over inflated barbarism and bloodlust of the desert tribal locals and the blundering, incompetence and treachery of a few officials who are well-placed in the Imperial ranks. Laseen’s apparent incompetence makes one wonder why it’s only the Bridgeburners who are out to do the Empress in. The story is a long repetition of bloated, rotting, eyeless corpses, and splattered pools of blood, urine, bile, entrails, etc, etc, etc.
Nevertheless, some of the elements which made Gardens such a great book are missing from Deadhouse. Aside from just a few scenes, the Gods and Ascendants, who made Gardens so interesting, are mostly missing in action here. Also, the Deck of Dragons appears to be in short supply in Rakaru. In fact, in one scene, near the close of the book, one character asks, “Have you seen a Deck of Dragons?” The answer is something like: “Well, not in quite a while.” You can say that again. Also, the plot moves way to slow, especially compared to its predecessor. Furthermore, the ending of Gardens was much more satisfying, mostly because of the way in which the intricate threads intersected each other so flawlessly. In Deadhouse, the attempt seems a bit forced, and somewhat awkward. But on balance this is still a pretty good book, saved mostly by the strength of its memorable characters who possess both depth and humanity, despite Erikson’s foreboding, dark and violent world.
[ May 03, 2005, 17:20: Message edited by: Chandos the Red ]
Second Volume of A Tale of the Malazon Book of the Fallen
Rating: Good - 3 1/2 out of 5 stars
There are a few questions that are probably as old as time itself: Is there no end to human strife? Or, is there no end to human stupidity? How about, human misery? Or, villainy? If you have ever asked yourself any of the above questions, Steven Erikson thinks he has the answer in Deadhouse Gates, his sequel to Gardens of the Moon. And his answer is: “Why no, no, there isn’t.” At least that is how it appears in Deadhouse Gates, which is a long, drawn out parade of all the above human, and inhumane, calamities. Of course, the story is a bit more than that, but that is the singular impression which one may come away with after reading this hefty installment of The Malazan Book of the Fallen.
The book is in many ways very different from its predecessor. If the plotting in Gardens moves like lightening, Deadhouse Gates crawls along at a snail’s pace; if the characters seemed a little underdeveloped in Gardens, we find out more about some of the characters than we will ever need to know about in this tale. Nevertheless, the main characters are memorable and are rendered quite well, while others are still out there somewhere in the distance, such as Laseen and Tavore. And although both are central figures in the story, they are but shadows on Deadhouse's vast stage.
The setting of Deadhouse is Raraku, the big, hot sandy desert, and the Seven Cities, which are in the state of a rebellion against the Empire. This is the biggest disappointment of the story. One can only take so much blowing sand storms, with “sand getting into everything” and characters with “parched throats,” “cracked lips” and “swollen eyes” for so long before it gets really old – let alone some 500 pages of it. And of course there are the tribal hordes, which resemble the Chinese hordes in their seemingly endless multitudes, and their ability to move quickly and with ease in a place that everyone else, in great misery and difficulty, crawls across.
The “good guys” of the story are still those veterans who make up the discontented ranks of the Empire’s army: We have the return of Kalan, Fiddler, and assorted hosts, from the Bridgeburners, and Duiker, the Imperial Historian of the army, as well as an allotment of new veterans: Kulp, Stormy, Truth, etc. As a twist on the story we have the continuation of the Paran family’s saga with both sisters, who are somewhat estranged (actually more like mortal enemies), and are, like their brother, at the center of the conflict, which is wrecking havoc on two continents at this point in the tale.
The story opens with Felisin, the younger Paran sister, who has been sent to the mines by her sister, Tavore, who is the new adjunct to the Empress. We know she is destined for some significant occurrence in the opening scene, where Hood appears before her, and singles her out from the crowd of prisoners (which can’t be that promising, since he is the God of Death). From there Felisin and her two traveling companions, two of the most human and memorable characters of the entire tale - Heboric Light Touch, and Baudin - begin their journey of transformation which makes up the central thread of the story. There are three other main plotlines: The Bridgeburners in their quest to kill the Empress, which is mentioned earlier, is a continuation from Gardens.
The third is the quest of Coltaine, commander of the 7th Army and his attempt to save the refugees who are fleeing the rebellion of the Seven Cities and the tribal hordes of the “Army of the Apocalypse.” This is also known as the “Chain of Dogs.” A very heroic attempt to fight their way across hundreds of leagues of desert carrying what water and provisions they can bear, while constantly being attacked by the hordes of the rebellion. The main character of this thread is Duiker, the historian, and again another memorable character, who helps make this story a little more humane.
The fourth plotline in the story is quite odd, considering the main thrust of the story. It involves two characters who aren’t human, or seem to have any interest in whatever else is happening in the story. One is the Trell, Mappo, the other, a lost Ascendant, a Jaghut, Icarium. Neither are humans, but beings of great power, and members of the “Path of Hands.” Their quest is to locate the source of a “convergence of powers,” which is connected to the appearance of a Deadhouse Gate. The gate is some sort of living, organic hyper-traveling device, which also attracts powerful creatures and imprisons them. The Gate is thought to be a device that may help Icarium discover who he really is.
There are minor threads that run through the tale, such as the strange, romantic interest between Crokos and Apsalar, who are holdovers from Gardens. And then there is the appearance of Pust, high priest of Shadowthrone and like, Mappo and Icarium a member of the “Path of Hands.” Like any other epic tale, there is the usual assortment of wholly despicable villains, who are off on self-serving quests of their own.
The tale is a load of strife, villainy, suffering, and at times, downright stupidity, all culminating in the gory and inhumane deaths of tens of thousands of soldiers, refugees, escapees, old folk, women, babies, boys, girls, children of all ages, horses, and even a few dogs thrown in for good measure (what, no camels?), mostly as a result of the over inflated barbarism and bloodlust of the desert tribal locals and the blundering, incompetence and treachery of a few officials who are well-placed in the Imperial ranks. Laseen’s apparent incompetence makes one wonder why it’s only the Bridgeburners who are out to do the Empress in. The story is a long repetition of bloated, rotting, eyeless corpses, and splattered pools of blood, urine, bile, entrails, etc, etc, etc.
Nevertheless, some of the elements which made Gardens such a great book are missing from Deadhouse. Aside from just a few scenes, the Gods and Ascendants, who made Gardens so interesting, are mostly missing in action here. Also, the Deck of Dragons appears to be in short supply in Rakaru. In fact, in one scene, near the close of the book, one character asks, “Have you seen a Deck of Dragons?” The answer is something like: “Well, not in quite a while.” You can say that again. Also, the plot moves way to slow, especially compared to its predecessor. Furthermore, the ending of Gardens was much more satisfying, mostly because of the way in which the intricate threads intersected each other so flawlessly. In Deadhouse, the attempt seems a bit forced, and somewhat awkward. But on balance this is still a pretty good book, saved mostly by the strength of its memorable characters who possess both depth and humanity, despite Erikson’s foreboding, dark and violent world.
[ May 03, 2005, 17:20: Message edited by: Chandos the Red ]