Искам да си прехвърля едно ревю тука, ей така, за posterity, защото Goordreads съква със своя тъп limited wordcount на ревютата си, а Amazon са [insert много епитети] и съответно ми трябва дигитално място, където да живее пълната версия на този тъжен бисер.
Ако желаете повече подробности, знаете къде да ме потърсите.
(Review for Of Sand and Snow, Wings of War Book 5) -- Originally published 2nd of Jan, 2020 (huh...)
SOMEHOW THE MAGIC OF THE SERIES GOT LOST
...must be because of all that sand and snow, who knows.
NOTE: I received an ARC copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
(So, is this now the new stock polit-correct phrase? Huh, we do live in dumb times indeed.)
*Of Sand and Snow* is the fifth, but unfortunately not last, installment in The Wings of War dark fantasy series. However, instead of a conclusion to Raz's epic saga of revenge and street justice in the name of freedom, we get a book that spirals toward creative limbo harder than a neutron star smashing into a supermassive black hole. It is a small consolation the novel indeed doesn't close off the story in such an inglorious way, which gives hope for the real finale whenever it comes, although that hope is slim.
What went wrong, I wonder? Below, I will outline my general feelings from reading the book and try to point out why my score is so low.
HIGHLIGHT
Having finished *Sand/Snow* two weeks prior, the dominant feeling is... disappointment. Here was I, one of the most ardent fans of Raz, reading a book that should be about his most finest hour... and yet it isn't. Instead, this a book is about a few hastily written army battles, a bad "mind-games" plot with a bunch of flat villains, and lots of uninspired hack-'n-slash, like a bland, poorly executed military fantasy. Deep characterizations? Gone. Breathtaking, beautiful vistas? None present. Flowing, graceful, emotionally-packed narrative? Nope. Meaningful dialogues? None of those either.
It was as if I was reading a different series. If it wasn't for the same names of the main cast and locations, I'd certainly think I had picked the wrong book. These were not the same wings of war that soared my enthusiasm sky-high three years ago.
Something has happened between the last book and this one, and the magic of the series got lost in between.
CHARACTERS
Perhaps the most disappointing element in *Sand/Snow* are the characters. Well-written characters can save a bad story; while poorly-written characters can ruin a good one. Well, the case here is bad characters acting out a rigid, dry story. Recipe for disaster.
The series focal point has always been its main protagonist Raz i'Sul Arro, and his crusade both against the injustice and crime of the outside world and the tormenting demons of his own inner psyche. Raz was cool not only because he was a giant lizardman badass and a master fighter - he was awesome because he ALSO was a broken man with a tragic past, who struggled to make out something of his shattered life DESPITE his sheer emotional traumas. This duality in Raz - the inner monster who lusts for nothing but blood, and the knight in sour armor who fights for others despite the scorn and the fear and the darkness of human nature - this was a central theme of the whole series, and I'd argue it was THE central theme, the one that made up for much of what *The Wings of War* has become today.
But that key struggle in Raz's mind is nowhere to be seen in *Of Sand and Snow*.
Nowhere.
Instead, the book barely gives Raz any spotlight, opting instead to jump around a dozen different point-of-views, like some cut-rate high fantasy trying to imitate the epics of Feist, Jordan & co. Most of these POVs are needlessly long or even entirely unnecessary, contributing little to the actual plot, and in some cases actually robbing it of value. As a result, the tempo flounders and falters more often than not, making reading *Sand/Snow* a slog - something which I never expected to happen in Raz's story.
Compare this approach to the earlier books, where foreign POVs where always short and to the point, often less than a page. As such, they established just the right amount of context, peeking just the right amount into the lives of secondary/side characters, in order to flesh them out more fully, while the focus was kept on those who mattered - in this case, Raz. (And in later books, Syrah, Talo, and Caro.)
Speaking of other major characters, Syrah also is presented in an extremely hollow and flat way in the book. Her character development is non-existent, save for a few passing sentences, and her "inner voice" is stifled to the point of near-muteness. Her relationship with Raz also goes practically nowhere - they don't talk or discuss it, don't make anything beyond brief physical contact, it's just... kind of there. Stated, not shown. After being teased for two whole books (or four, if we count the hints in the first two), the lack of any payoff, or even an advancement on that front is disappointing. Frustrating, even. Now, granted, Syrah is traumatized from the events she underwent in *Winter's King* and *As Iron Falls* - which in her defense can be said to be the reason she can't get fully involved with Raz - but when those traumas aren't addressed in any significant way in the narrative, they look more like an excuse from having to write about Raz and Syrah's relationship instead of a genuine obstacle to growing intimacy.
And what about Raz's side in that relationship? Does the guy have immunity to hormones? Has he felt no attractions to anyone ever, even other atherians? Honestly, I would've never noticed that blind spot in Raz's character if it wasn't for the borderline mediocre writing of *Sand/Snow*. But now I have, and it makes me wonder. The guy is only 26 after all, and yet not once there's a mention about his, *ahem*, more carnal desires. Even if we assume his species is locked down to some heat/reproduction cycle, enough time has passed to see Raz at least once become flushed with... excitement. But nope. He's just a street justice samurai, dishing out death and scorn to the bad guys, and he has no time for petty things like romance, or the occasional date with Rosie Palms.
Ah, I mentioned the bad guys. Well, they're bad; like, written bad. The "casual", real-world-like, breath-of-fresh-air personality the Mahsaden had in the first book is long gone by the time *Sand/Snow* comes around. Here, Lazura is finally revealed as a master-villain of a larger-than-life caliber, but again the execution is poor, and at times frustratingly laughable. She is one-dimensional compared to the previous villains, and her story arc is riddled with nothing but plot armor and plot devices. Again, lots of wasted potential.
As for the other sef, who are delegated the role of minor villains, the less said about them, the better. Although I'm going to mention more about Team Bad in the story section.
WRITING STYLE
Physical descriptions of the characters are almost gone altogether. Except for the occasional claw or piece of clothing, there is nothing to make the appearances of Raz & co come to life as they did in previous books. Raz, for example, is now nothing more than a collection of weapons and whirling limbs. The other characters? Similarly bereft of images, save for the most basic and "identifying" descriptors.
Descriptions of the surrounding environment, which created such a concrete sense of place before - whether be it in the Cienbal desert, the Arocklen forest, or the Vietalis ranges - are absent too. The wind through the forest trees, the night calls of the sandcats, the painfully crisp and clear northern air... Nope, the immersion factor just isn't there. It's all backdrop now; artificial and inert. Lifeless. I was hard-pressed to find the faintest traces of that flowing, almost lyrical prose that made *Child of the Daystar* so musical, so soothing in its ambience.
What happened? Where did that beautiful imagery go? Who knows? It's Book 4's last third all over again, with painted cardboard walls instead of real, vivid, audible, olfactory, and tactile topological vistas.
STORY
The plot of *Sand/Snow* is rigid, sparse, and full of holes. It all revolves around the clash between the Mahsaden's combined forces and the army Raz has raised in Perce. In and of itself, such a setup isn't problematic; to the contrary, it's a good opportunity to shift the series from street level-view to something more epic in scope, and the story actually manages to do that in quite an organic way. (Albeit using the tired "So the prophecy has foretold" trope to achieve its ends.)
Again, the real problems lie with the execution. The narrative takes a much more militaristic turn, upgrading Raz's personal crusade in a region-wide quest for freedom, but the author forgets to change the storytelling tools to a more appropriate set. As a result, the story shift is underwhelming and headscratch-inducing: the battles themselves - both large- and small-scale - feel generic and uninspired, realistic problems like army logistics are hand-waved or underestimated (in a DESERT!), and any strategic decisions boil down to "So we will do X, but the enemy knows that, so instead we shall do Y, but the enemy knows that too, so in the end we'll just do X but with a plot device attached".
To summarize the plot, Raz and his army march into the South, take a couple of cities, have some battles, make some detour to the local mountains (the only interesting part of the whole book), and then go right into the grand showdown in a pitched battle against the Mahsaden. That's it. No unexpected complications, no guerilla warfare, no morale failures - just straight up heroics of the most plain and domestic kind. In a dark fantasy. To be fair, the book tries to portray the horrors of war - by having the characters comment about the dead and the crippled in battle, or by having Syrah work herself to exhaustion in the infirmary once or twice - but it all just falls flat in the end.
The villains are all over the place; some are plain idiotic, others are displayed as cunning, but in the end are betrayed by their lessers (yes, so believable /s). Lazura is a particularly egregious example - she craves nothing but death and destruction with a psychotic glee, yet is somehow able to outplay (not overpower, mind you) all of the other sefs, without them ever seeing it coming - and we're talking about backstabbing experts with decades of experience. Yep. Totally what would happen.
There's also this scene during the final battle where Lazura survives a duel against one of Raz's generals, ONLY because said general starts spouting theatrics. And then Lazura uses the respite to blast him with magic. Yes, totally appropriate plot development in a dark, gritty fantasy. What should've happened instead was the general should've just cut off Lazura's head, and the series would have ended right there and then. Anticlimactic, yes, but still better than the current mess.
The whole read is a long, grinding slog, with zero tension. I've already mentioned the pacing above, and how bad it is in general. I had to actually FORCE myself to read through to the end of the novel - something that I haven't done in ages! And in a favorite series, no less!
So many elements are underdeveloped or poorly executed that the whole book feels like a broken first draft.
THE GOOD STUFF (At least where it can be found)
Now, despite my scathing criticism, it's not all doom and gloom - otherwise I would've not given two stars. While rare, there were genuine moments where I liked *Sand/Snow* - the bad news is, all those moments were contained in only one place in the story - during the Raz and Syrah's stay in the Crags, the desert mountains that are home to the atherian, Raz's people.
Finally, if nothing else, *Sand/Snow* concludes the story arc of Queen Shas-hana Rhan - the mythical leader of the atherian. And finally, Raz and his biological mother become reunited - in a moment that isn't smooth (in-story wise), but is heartwarming nonetheless. The reunion between Hana and her long-lost estranged son is powerful and emotion-evoking, making that brief episode in *Sand/Snow* the closest to what made the earlier books so endearing. In my opinion more attention should've been focused on those parts, and the atherian should've had more center stage in the story, getting to see more of their native culture and way of life. As it stands, we merely get a short three-weeks montage lasting barely half a chapter, and then the narrative moves on onto more boredom-inducing matters.
The last moments of Uhsula's life are also inspiring. That scene reminded me of a very emotional character death in one old anime, which I have a very high regard for.* The joined journey the Grandmother and Uhsula had in the afterlife is exactly, EXACTLY like something I would've expected to find in *Child of the Daystar*, or *The Warring Son*, or *Winter's King*. That scene contains the quintessence which made *The Wings of War* the series it became.
THAT should have been what *Sand/Snow* is about. Those moments contained the seeds of the original magic and charm of Raz's journey. That is what matters in this installment. The rest is mediocre chaff.
*(For those of you in the know, I'm talking about Shu's demise in the original *Hokuto no Ken* from '86.)
THE WINGS OF WAR THAT WON'T FLY
And lastly, a deep, deep gripe I have since the second book in the series - Raz still does not fly. Like, at all. He has wings, and he has demonstrated the ability to do so in the first book, even in armor. Why then Raz ignores this exemplary blessing?
Leave aside the tactical advantages and opportunities such an invaluable ability provides. It's the sheer joy alone that should drive Raz to seek spreading his wings and taking to the skies, given how wondrous this has always been in any sapient being's dreams and imagination. Rhetorical question - how many of you have dreamed of being able to fly on your own, or have had your breath taken away when you have surveyed a grand panorama atop a high mountain or a building?
This leads to another, less rhetorical question: Is there any reason why the story turns a blind eye to this critical character development of Raz?
Do note, that if *Daystar* had never made such a big deal of it (the fiery escape from the bathhouse), I probably would have not been so adamant in my demands as a reader and a fan. But Raz has been demonstrably in delight from the discovery that his wings could in fact carry him skyward, and I cannot think of it as anything less than a disservice to the character and the established narrative to ignore it.
Consider the following excerpt from the first book, *Child of the Daystar*:
"Nothing could have prepared him for what actually happened.
The instant he caught the heat, Raz was jerked upward so violently he nearly dropped Ahna, the broiling heat from the flames below abruptly shooting him a good fifteen feet into the air. He could barely maintain his balance. Muscles in his back he didn’t even know he had flexed and strained instinctively, trying to keep him right side up in his tumble skyward. Flaming soot and smoke whirled around him in a fiery storm, blocking his view. The rush crushed against him, filling his lungs with boiling wind. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He suddenly realized he was going to black out and plummet earthward to the cobbled road below. He realized he was going to die.
Then, abruptly, it ended.
The heat was gone. Raz was gliding unhindered, suspended by nothing. There was an instant, just a fraction of a second, when the panic disappeared and the city opened up like a map before his eyes. The world below came alive around him, a flat blanket of lights and shapes and lines where lit streets cut across Miropa’s dark face. Raz had time for a single gasp, a single moment of unfathomable wonder as he soared.
But the moment didn’t last, and with gut-wrenching force Raz felt gravity take him, pulling him down. He floundered desperately to keep his set course, as though the spastic whipping of his legs and free arm would help him through the air. The pull of the earth was cruel, though, aiming him straight at the wall of the three-story building in front of him, the roof he’d so desperately hoped to reach slipping away. He started to fall, losing almost all forward momentum, the solid stone rushing toward him.
And then his wings, extended to their fullest reach on either side of him, strained.
Drawing inward simultaneously, they pushed his body upwards through the air with such force Raz felt the wind whistling through the spaces in his armor. His mouth hung slack in numb realization as he felt his wings beat again with the barest of conscious thought, eyes on the wall slipping by in front of him. The edge of the roof reached his head, then his waist, then his feet, and before long it was ten feet below him.
He was flying. Without trying, without thinking or meaning to. The world opened up once more, Miropa suddenly an enchanting puzzle of lanterns and candlelight, a carefully carved floor for his feet to never touch. The rush returned, the air suddenly freer, sweeter.
He was flying…"
Beautiful, isn't it?
And then the moment ends when a cruel crossbow bolt nearly skewers Raz to the nearest chimney.
One would imagine (sardonically) that Raz has since developed a phobia of flying or something...
But of course, that is never explained in the narrative. The sublime moment comes and goes, and then vanishes without a further trace whatsoever... probably until the end.
I remind you of my dominant feeling - disappointment.
Oh, and while we're on the subject of Raz and projectiles in the same sentence - I'm still flabbergasted how nobody has thought of just plastering Raz point-blank with a two-score squad of soldiers armed with ranged weaponry; he may be a fighting legend, but a hail of armor-penetrating projectiles is kinda hard to defeat...
But I guess the narrative isn't fond of following the rules of the world it has established itself; again, unlike book one, where technologies like bows and crossbows are regularly discussed, and it's even mentioned that Raz isn't proficient in them...
Kinda hard to suspend disbelief when things are willfully ignored in the name of... what? Badassery? Well, one can't be a badass in a vacuum; if there's nothing to challenge the character, then they are just an ass. Of the hot-air kind.
OVERALL THOUGHTS
So, you've reached this far, and you're probably thinking - all this smackdown, and the review has given two stars? Why the discrepancy?
It's simple.
I care deeply for the series. I want the series to be GREAT. Raz is one of my top favorite fictional characters ever, dammit! But... is he still? I don't want him descending into the next generic fantasy protagonist #3721 or whatever. I want him to remain Raz. And I want for his world to be as awesome as when I first saw it.
Unfortunately, *Of Sand and Snow* isn't delivering on that front. It's a broken mess of a book that simply doesn't live up to the legacy it's derived from. It is shallow, trite, and dry. It lacks passion. It lacks soul.
It is merely a lot of sand and snow, sans the splendor that makes these two substances so poetic.
CONCLUSION
If it bore any other pedigree, *Of Sand and Snow* would've been merely a serviceable, airport-novel-quality book. The writing is mechanical and uninspiring, and while it might be considered mediocre if this was a start of series or someone's writing career, as it stands it's unacceptable. Bryce O'Connor has proved that he can do better than this. *The Wings of War* have demonstrated that they can be better than this. Raz has shown that a protagonist can be brutal and still sympathetic to the audience.
So, what happened? I don't know. Somewhere along the road, the magic was lost. The characters and the story have fallen from grace. The series has at first stumbled, then faltered, and now it has crashed flat on its face.
Could Book 6 salvage this trainwreck? Definitely! Maybe? I don't know. It depends. However, I personally don't have high hopes. The signs were there as early as *Winter's King*, and while I remained cautiously optimistic post-Book 3, I am... not anymore. Looking back at my enthusiastic reviews of the previous installments, I wonder - why did it have to become like this? Is this what readers prefer to read? Is this what writers prefer to write? Is it even art, if it's done for the sake of mere consumption of an end product?
Everybody decides for themselves. In my case, I sit here before the keyboard and contemplate - what Raz's story could have been. What it could have been, if its soul and passion haven't flown somewhere away, taken by malicious wings of war. A war in this case about the empty chase of short-lived celebrity status and automated money-making.
Well, I think I shall return to more meaningful literature. The ocean is vast in that regard.
Hopefully, by the end of the series Raz and Syrah at least will get a good fuck - one that is more wholesome than the one I got.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
) Препоръчвам "Елантрис", макар и с уговорките, че а) финалът е претупан и разваля общото впечатление, изградено от първите 400стр. и б) книгата се пресяга към статуса на шедьовър, но така и не го достига за "една бройка".
Имам soft spot за способни, справедливо-сурови и прилично отмъстителни персонажи. Фен съм на Джак Ричър, remember?
беше толкова голямо, че ако не беше лекотата на прозата и не особено ангажиращата история, сигурно щях да зарежа книгите по средата, както направих с Ерагон (там обаче си имаше много остър препъни-камък).