The Novice by Trudi Canavan
Jan. 20th, 2006 08:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quippeThe Blurb On The Back:
Imardin is a city of dark intrigues and deadly politics, where those who wield magic wield power. Into this established order has blundered a young street-girl with extraordinary magical gifts. Adopted by the Magicians’ Guild, her life is changed forever - but for better or for worse?
Sonea knew that she’d face a tough time training within the Magicians’ Guild but she little realised the level of animosity she would face from her fellow novices. The sons and daughters of the most powerful families in the realm, her classmates seem determined to see her fail - at whatever cost. But in accepting the protection of the guild’s high lord, Sonea may have embraced a far bleaker fate. For High Lord Akkarin harbours a secret that is far darker than his magician’s robes.
Having read the the first of this Trilogy and had some reservations about the over-arching plot, I had nevertheless begun this book with a degree of optimism.
We begin almost right where we left off in Book 1, with Sonea being formally accepted into the Guild and we learn that Lord Fergun (the villain from the first book) has been banished to a far off fort and is not going to return for a few years. As introductions go, it’s not badly written, Canavan weaves in her concept of a wizard’s oath and she gives an idea of the family houses. The problem is that she also introduces us to the main villain of this book - a fellow student called Regin.
In my first review I pointed out that her character of Fergun was a cartoon villain. Compared to Regin, he was a masterpiece of nuanced understatement. Canavan leads us in no doubt that he’s a bad ‘un and gives him a trademark sneer to reinforce the point. His sole purpose in the book is to unite the other novices against Sonea and make her life as hellish as possible, initially by spreading malicious rumours against her and her master, Rothen (yes, he’s back and he’s blander than ever) and then through more troubling means by deliberately attacking her with magic to wear down her defences.
Canavan wants us to see Regin as some kind of master-manipulator, a boy with charisma and a deep-set prejudice against anyone who happens to be poorer than him. The problem is that we don’t see any of this supposed charisma because Canavan doesn’t show it. In addition, it is something of a stretch of credibility that this character would be able to unite every novice in her class against her. Canavan tries to make it more credible by having Sonea admit her previous background as a Thief and making a cultural gaffe with one of the female novices, but it never really convinces.
We get some respite from these shenanigans when Canavan has Sonea ‘study hard’ to get moved up to the next class. But your hopes are dashed when she eventually makes Regin and two cohorts move up to the same class a few months later and whilst she does grudgingly make him slightly more believable by having some of the novices in her class ignore his plans, all this goodwill is undone when she has him orchestrating ambushes of Sonea, using the other novices to help him.
Of course, part of the purpose of all this is to demonstrate how powerful Sonea is becoming - she’s shown bearing attacks from up to 15 other people. Whilst Canavan tries to steer clear of allegations of ‘perfection’ by having her succumb to these attacks eventually, she can’t resist but have other characters comment on how powerful she is. The scenes are also intended to generate sympathy for the protagonist, but the only emotion I felt was irritation because Sonea makes no attempt to fight back. Supposedly this is because she still bears the mental scars of seeing someone die from magic, but in fact given all the teaching we see her benefiting from, it beggars belief that she can’t come up with some kind of non-fatal way of responding. One of the other characters says that it’s because she’s “too nice” but in fact, it’s pure contrivance.
Similarly contrived is the explanation for why none of the teachers steps in to stop the bullying (when they clearly know what’s going on). Canavan wishes us to believe that it’s because they either (a) don’t care, (b) want Sonea to fail and be thrown out, or (c) want her to draw skills/strength from these encounters. With the possible, dubious possibility of the third, none of them is believable.
Interestingly, the Blurb on the Back suggests that Sonea willingly accepts the protection of Akkarin. This is not the case. In book 1, we know that Akkarin is practicing forbidden black magic and that this has been discovered by Rothen and Lorlen who are keeping it a secret for now. In Book 2, Akkarin discovers that they know his secret and takes control of Sonea’s apprenticeship by blackmailing the two full magicians. Frankly, the blackmail plot only works because Canavan has three characters who are totally unconfrontational. We could believe this about Rothen (who has the spine of a jelly fish and an almost delusional faith in the qualities of his fellow magicians), but Lorlen is supposed to be a senior figure in the Guild - an administrator which would suggest some stomach for an argument. This is contrived and it jars because it is contrived.
The ‘storyline’ between Sonea and Regin culminates with a duel between the two of them. Frankly, it lacks excitement (the result is always a full-blown conclusion) and it lacks pace. Really, the duel storyline is supposed to be the justification for Sonea finally accepting Warrior lessons from Yakkin, but the lessons aren’t particularly exciting either.
Interestingly, we don’t see anything much of Cery in this book, which kills the possibility of any romance between them from the first book. We do however see Rothen’s son, Dorrien, a Healer based in a far-away village who makes a couple of contrived visits to give the hint of romance that really doesn’t seem to be going very far (based on the lack of character development).
There is a side-story to Sonea’s experience in the Guild, which involves Dannyl from the first book. He has become an Ambassador to Elyne and it emerges that Akkarin once travelled around there as part of some mysterious studies. Trusted by Lorlen to discover what Akkarin was looking for, Dannyl’s plot strand involves some travel to other areas in her fantasy world but in essence that’s all a side-show to her desire to explore latent homosexuality. Specifically, Canavan builds on some rumours about Dannyl’s sexuality that are alluded to in book 1 and develops it with the introduction of another male character called Tayend.
I had big problems with this plot - not because there’s anything wrong with homosexuality - in fact, I think that it’s a subject that’s ripe to be explored in fantasy, provided it’s done so on a character basis that melds with the plot. However, Canavan fudges the issue - her essential message is that whilst there’s nothing wrong with homosexuality, you should accept that there are people in society who feel that it is wrong and as such, be careful about demonstrating it. It is very possible that this is not what she intended, but that’s the message that comes off. It doesn’t help that there is no chemistry at all between her two characters and there’s a touch of shame to Tayend as regards his view of his own feelings.
In addition to this feeble exploration of homosexuality, Canavan also makes a poor fist of setting out differences between cultures. In particular, I was very uncomfortable with her allusions to Muslim cultures - specifically attitudes towards the appropriate relationship between men and women and also towards homosexuality itself. It’s not so much that she uses broad brushstrokes so much as uses a big black crayon. It’s crass, it makes you feel very uncomfortable and frankly, it’s unnecessary to the point that it jars from a concept of a credible world.
I felt that this book wasn’t quite as well-written as the first. In particular, it’s very much ‘tell rather than show’ and the jumping between plot strands is irritating. There is still a big problem as regards characterisation - it’s not just that Rothen is bland, it’s that all of the characters have this ‘meh’ quality that stops you from feeling close to them. The only character that does intrigue is Akkarin and that’s because the author uses the time-honoured technique of giving you a taste of mystery and moral ambiguity without giving any explanations. This is a dangerous technique because she will need to give a pay-off for that character for the series to work.
The Verdict:
Very, very disappointing. Having established an interesting premise, Canavan takes it nowhere. The characterisation is very poor, at times the writing could do with a good editor in terms of removing elements that add nothing to the plot and it’s difficult to suppress frustration with a heroine who is incapable of making things happen for herself. The only reason to continue with the series is to see where the overriding story is going, but on the basis of the first two books, I would question whether it is wise to invest the time and energy in doing so.
Imardin is a city of dark intrigues and deadly politics, where those who wield magic wield power. Into this established order has blundered a young street-girl with extraordinary magical gifts. Adopted by the Magicians’ Guild, her life is changed forever - but for better or for worse?
Sonea knew that she’d face a tough time training within the Magicians’ Guild but she little realised the level of animosity she would face from her fellow novices. The sons and daughters of the most powerful families in the realm, her classmates seem determined to see her fail - at whatever cost. But in accepting the protection of the guild’s high lord, Sonea may have embraced a far bleaker fate. For High Lord Akkarin harbours a secret that is far darker than his magician’s robes.
Having read the the first of this Trilogy and had some reservations about the over-arching plot, I had nevertheless begun this book with a degree of optimism.
We begin almost right where we left off in Book 1, with Sonea being formally accepted into the Guild and we learn that Lord Fergun (the villain from the first book) has been banished to a far off fort and is not going to return for a few years. As introductions go, it’s not badly written, Canavan weaves in her concept of a wizard’s oath and she gives an idea of the family houses. The problem is that she also introduces us to the main villain of this book - a fellow student called Regin.
In my first review I pointed out that her character of Fergun was a cartoon villain. Compared to Regin, he was a masterpiece of nuanced understatement. Canavan leads us in no doubt that he’s a bad ‘un and gives him a trademark sneer to reinforce the point. His sole purpose in the book is to unite the other novices against Sonea and make her life as hellish as possible, initially by spreading malicious rumours against her and her master, Rothen (yes, he’s back and he’s blander than ever) and then through more troubling means by deliberately attacking her with magic to wear down her defences.
Canavan wants us to see Regin as some kind of master-manipulator, a boy with charisma and a deep-set prejudice against anyone who happens to be poorer than him. The problem is that we don’t see any of this supposed charisma because Canavan doesn’t show it. In addition, it is something of a stretch of credibility that this character would be able to unite every novice in her class against her. Canavan tries to make it more credible by having Sonea admit her previous background as a Thief and making a cultural gaffe with one of the female novices, but it never really convinces.
We get some respite from these shenanigans when Canavan has Sonea ‘study hard’ to get moved up to the next class. But your hopes are dashed when she eventually makes Regin and two cohorts move up to the same class a few months later and whilst she does grudgingly make him slightly more believable by having some of the novices in her class ignore his plans, all this goodwill is undone when she has him orchestrating ambushes of Sonea, using the other novices to help him.
Of course, part of the purpose of all this is to demonstrate how powerful Sonea is becoming - she’s shown bearing attacks from up to 15 other people. Whilst Canavan tries to steer clear of allegations of ‘perfection’ by having her succumb to these attacks eventually, she can’t resist but have other characters comment on how powerful she is. The scenes are also intended to generate sympathy for the protagonist, but the only emotion I felt was irritation because Sonea makes no attempt to fight back. Supposedly this is because she still bears the mental scars of seeing someone die from magic, but in fact given all the teaching we see her benefiting from, it beggars belief that she can’t come up with some kind of non-fatal way of responding. One of the other characters says that it’s because she’s “too nice” but in fact, it’s pure contrivance.
Similarly contrived is the explanation for why none of the teachers steps in to stop the bullying (when they clearly know what’s going on). Canavan wishes us to believe that it’s because they either (a) don’t care, (b) want Sonea to fail and be thrown out, or (c) want her to draw skills/strength from these encounters. With the possible, dubious possibility of the third, none of them is believable.
Interestingly, the Blurb on the Back suggests that Sonea willingly accepts the protection of Akkarin. This is not the case. In book 1, we know that Akkarin is practicing forbidden black magic and that this has been discovered by Rothen and Lorlen who are keeping it a secret for now. In Book 2, Akkarin discovers that they know his secret and takes control of Sonea’s apprenticeship by blackmailing the two full magicians. Frankly, the blackmail plot only works because Canavan has three characters who are totally unconfrontational. We could believe this about Rothen (who has the spine of a jelly fish and an almost delusional faith in the qualities of his fellow magicians), but Lorlen is supposed to be a senior figure in the Guild - an administrator which would suggest some stomach for an argument. This is contrived and it jars because it is contrived.
The ‘storyline’ between Sonea and Regin culminates with a duel between the two of them. Frankly, it lacks excitement (the result is always a full-blown conclusion) and it lacks pace. Really, the duel storyline is supposed to be the justification for Sonea finally accepting Warrior lessons from Yakkin, but the lessons aren’t particularly exciting either.
Interestingly, we don’t see anything much of Cery in this book, which kills the possibility of any romance between them from the first book. We do however see Rothen’s son, Dorrien, a Healer based in a far-away village who makes a couple of contrived visits to give the hint of romance that really doesn’t seem to be going very far (based on the lack of character development).
There is a side-story to Sonea’s experience in the Guild, which involves Dannyl from the first book. He has become an Ambassador to Elyne and it emerges that Akkarin once travelled around there as part of some mysterious studies. Trusted by Lorlen to discover what Akkarin was looking for, Dannyl’s plot strand involves some travel to other areas in her fantasy world but in essence that’s all a side-show to her desire to explore latent homosexuality. Specifically, Canavan builds on some rumours about Dannyl’s sexuality that are alluded to in book 1 and develops it with the introduction of another male character called Tayend.
I had big problems with this plot - not because there’s anything wrong with homosexuality - in fact, I think that it’s a subject that’s ripe to be explored in fantasy, provided it’s done so on a character basis that melds with the plot. However, Canavan fudges the issue - her essential message is that whilst there’s nothing wrong with homosexuality, you should accept that there are people in society who feel that it is wrong and as such, be careful about demonstrating it. It is very possible that this is not what she intended, but that’s the message that comes off. It doesn’t help that there is no chemistry at all between her two characters and there’s a touch of shame to Tayend as regards his view of his own feelings.
In addition to this feeble exploration of homosexuality, Canavan also makes a poor fist of setting out differences between cultures. In particular, I was very uncomfortable with her allusions to Muslim cultures - specifically attitudes towards the appropriate relationship between men and women and also towards homosexuality itself. It’s not so much that she uses broad brushstrokes so much as uses a big black crayon. It’s crass, it makes you feel very uncomfortable and frankly, it’s unnecessary to the point that it jars from a concept of a credible world.
I felt that this book wasn’t quite as well-written as the first. In particular, it’s very much ‘tell rather than show’ and the jumping between plot strands is irritating. There is still a big problem as regards characterisation - it’s not just that Rothen is bland, it’s that all of the characters have this ‘meh’ quality that stops you from feeling close to them. The only character that does intrigue is Akkarin and that’s because the author uses the time-honoured technique of giving you a taste of mystery and moral ambiguity without giving any explanations. This is a dangerous technique because she will need to give a pay-off for that character for the series to work.
The Verdict:
Very, very disappointing. Having established an interesting premise, Canavan takes it nowhere. The characterisation is very poor, at times the writing could do with a good editor in terms of removing elements that add nothing to the plot and it’s difficult to suppress frustration with a heroine who is incapable of making things happen for herself. The only reason to continue with the series is to see where the overriding story is going, but on the basis of the first two books, I would question whether it is wise to invest the time and energy in doing so.
