The High Lord by Trudi Canavan
Jan. 29th, 2006 01:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quippeThe Blurb On The Back:
In the city of Imardin, where those who wield magic wield power, a young street-girl, adopted by the Magicians' Guild, finds herself at the centre of a terrible plot that may destroy the entire world ...
Sonea has learned much at the Magicians' Guild and the other novices now treat her with a grudging respect. But she cannot forget what she witnessed in the high lord's underground room - or his warning that the realm's ancient enemy is growing in power once more. As Sonea learns more, she begins to doubt her guildmaster's word. Could the truth really be as terrifying as Akkarin claims, or is he trying to trick her into assisting in some unspeakably dark scheme.
The High Lord is a disappointing end to a disappointing trilogy. Once again, Canavan's big failure is with characterisation. Sonea remains bland and a rather dull heroine who I never really felt the need to cheer on because her eventual triumph is telegraphed with trumpets and neon signs. Canavan fails to develop the potentially interesting character of Akkarin and this is a huge failing given that she takes the surprising decision to form a romance between the two.
Given that there has been no set up in the previous books for Akkarin's supposed love for his apprentice (which in itself, is a little icky) and indeed, there has been no corresponding set-up for Sonea, when Canavan does decide that the two love each other, she does it in such a rushed and cliched way as to leave you feeling vaguely robbed. There is no examination of the propriety of this relationship given their roles, only a cursory examination of the age difference and nothing to suggest genuine emotion between them. For me, it was a huge black mark against the story, particularly when Canavan then resorts to that other over-used device "I don't know how to use contraception and thought he was taking care of it" to manufacture an end of novel pregnancy, which will doubtless be part of a successor trilogy.
The main driving force for the story is the idea that a group of rogue magicians from the wastelands in enemy kingdom of Sachaka (known as the Ichani) have discovered that the Kyralian magicians gave up 'high' or 'black' magic and are therefore weaker than them. This links back in to a number of mysterious deaths which are described in the previous books as it turns out that the Ichani have been sending magician slaves to Imardin to test the limits of the magicians' (and in particular Akkarin's) power by killing people within the city with latent magical ability to build up their own power and test the magicians'. Canavan made the right decision to introduce the idea of mysterious deaths in the previous books because it built up mystery, particularly in relation to Akkarin's character as the reader is led to suspect that he's responsible. It also forms a good way for Akkarin to explain why he's been using black magic and why Sonea would decide that she needs to do the same. Canavan also scores points for using these deaths as a way to re-introduce Cery (a character who was largely AWOL in The Novice and who we are now told is a full Thief) and weave his investigations into this matter with Sonea's arc.
However, Canavan falls down in two places. Firstly, once she establishes that Akkarin is a good character forced to do what are considered bad things (but really aren't), the whole reason for being interested in him fades. Instead, his role is relegated to that of teacher in black arts to lover in very quick succession. In addition, Canavan chooses to run a storyline that Akkarin was responsible for setting Cery up as a Thief and having him identify these Sachkan magician slaces for him so he can kill them. This fails because we have not seen any interaction between Akkarin and Cery in the previous books to set this up - it's dropped on the reader out of the blue. She needed to run a storyline in The Novie whereby Cery slowly rises to a position of power within the Thieves and have him become interested in these mysterious deaths. Without that, it's difficult to feel any empathy with Cery's plot line.
Secondly, Canavan adds an element to muddy the waters by introducing another mysterious female character called Savara. She turns up to offer Cery a hand in identifying and killing the magician slaves and whilst she's established as a powerful warrior in her own right, Canavan is poor at concealing the fact that she's also a magician. Canavan also fails to give Savara anything to do other than be a love interest for Cery and hang around mysteriously. When it eventually emerges that Savara is in fact a magician within Sachaka for the Sachakan King, you feel doubly robbed because what could have been an interesting set-up of why the Sachakan King would send someone to help his Kyralian enemies gets dismissed in a paragraph of exposition as to how they couldn't afford the rogue Ichani to get powerful by conquering them. In many ways therefore, Savara is a Mary-Sue - powerful, beautiful and with no character to speak of apart from being a shag interest for Cery.
When Canavan finally has the Sachakans make an attack, we're exposed to villains of an even more two-dimensional variety than Fergun and Regin. Their leader is Kariko, another in the category of homicidal villains who's cursory rationale for hating Akkarin and wanting to destroy him is due to Akkarin's having killed his brother. We don't see a lot of Kariko beyond some gratuitous scenes to establish how evil he is (cruel killing, evil laughs and forcing Rothen to watch him kill members of the Magicians' Guild and innocent civilians). I'm not giving anything away by telling you that he gets his just deserts in the end. Speaking of Fergun and Regin, both make cameo re-appearances and neither have really improved, although Canavan does go the predictably route of redeeming Regin and having him voice admiration and support for Sonea, in a manner that will bring bile to your mouth.
The token sub-plot involves Dannyl who has discovered a rogue magician called Farand and is bringing him and some co-conspirator would-be rogue magicians back to the Guild for judgment. The premise of this sub-plot is really an excuse to discuss Dannyl's homosexual feelings for Tayend and show his eventual coming out whilst simultaneously being in the closet. I have written before about how uncomfortable this storyline made me and my feelings didn't change. What could have been a good way to explore homosexuality and homosexual relationships is really blanketed in this idea that men who love men need to be careful about revealing it because people see it as wrong. Given that this is marketed as a young adult book, I'm not sure that this is a great message to be sending out to teenagers - particularly as those who are experiencing homosexual feelings will have their fears reinforced in terms of people's reactions.
I should mention that we also get exposed to Akkarin's backstory and the mysterious period of time he spent away from the Guild (he got enslaved by the Ichani and learnt black magic to survive - shocker!) and there's also a tedious plot-line whereby the Guild discover that both Sonea and Akkarin have been using black magic and decide to exile them to Sachaka. I describe this as tedious because the handling of it is contrived and it's there to try and give extra credence to the love story element. In particular, Canavan paints her characters in terms of black and white - all of the magicians decide that they will not give Sonea or Akkarin the benefit of the doubt and there is only a cursory discussion as to whether they are telling the truth and should hedge their bets. Life simply is not like that and given that Canavan has tried to give an idea of the politics of the Guild in the earlier books, it is disappointing that she should handle her big political scene in such a clumsy manner.
As I have said before, Canavan has obviously put a lot of thought into this story and how her society opertes. What lets the books down is her failure to translate this onto the page. She wants us to believe that this is a complex society with differing tensions between classes, racial groups and political interests but doesn't show it. I didn't care about Sonea or Akkarin and their fate left me feeling nothing. Nor did I care about the side characters of Lorlen, Rothen or Dorrien. Her main problem is that these are little more than names on a page - I never got a sense of who they actually were and accordingly could never believe in them. There's a scene towards the end of the book where she mentions some of the magicians who died at the hands of the Ichani. It should have been moving but wasn't because I didn't know who hald those people were or why I should care about them. I felt that this was particularly ham-fisted as it meant that the battle scenes were really for nothing.
In essence, I think that the trilogy would have benefited from a re-write. The strands could almost certainly be woven together more effectively and more time needs to be given to fleshing out the main protaganists. In essence, the author has released three books that do not hang together in a satisfactor way and could have done with a couple more re-writes.
The Verdict:
A hugely disappointing end to a disappointing trilogy. Canavan's characterisation is poor, her plot predictable and the love story was bland, uninspiring and frankly a little icky. I don't think that this has anything for a young adult audience to relate to as Sonea never feels like a teenage girl and by fantasy standards the idea of a magicians' school and battling evil enemies has been done better by other writers (including J. K. Rowling and Anne McCaffrey). Personally, I'd recommend giving it a miss (or at least, get it from a library or second hand book store).
In the city of Imardin, where those who wield magic wield power, a young street-girl, adopted by the Magicians' Guild, finds herself at the centre of a terrible plot that may destroy the entire world ...
Sonea has learned much at the Magicians' Guild and the other novices now treat her with a grudging respect. But she cannot forget what she witnessed in the high lord's underground room - or his warning that the realm's ancient enemy is growing in power once more. As Sonea learns more, she begins to doubt her guildmaster's word. Could the truth really be as terrifying as Akkarin claims, or is he trying to trick her into assisting in some unspeakably dark scheme.
The High Lord is a disappointing end to a disappointing trilogy. Once again, Canavan's big failure is with characterisation. Sonea remains bland and a rather dull heroine who I never really felt the need to cheer on because her eventual triumph is telegraphed with trumpets and neon signs. Canavan fails to develop the potentially interesting character of Akkarin and this is a huge failing given that she takes the surprising decision to form a romance between the two.
Given that there has been no set up in the previous books for Akkarin's supposed love for his apprentice (which in itself, is a little icky) and indeed, there has been no corresponding set-up for Sonea, when Canavan does decide that the two love each other, she does it in such a rushed and cliched way as to leave you feeling vaguely robbed. There is no examination of the propriety of this relationship given their roles, only a cursory examination of the age difference and nothing to suggest genuine emotion between them. For me, it was a huge black mark against the story, particularly when Canavan then resorts to that other over-used device "I don't know how to use contraception and thought he was taking care of it" to manufacture an end of novel pregnancy, which will doubtless be part of a successor trilogy.
The main driving force for the story is the idea that a group of rogue magicians from the wastelands in enemy kingdom of Sachaka (known as the Ichani) have discovered that the Kyralian magicians gave up 'high' or 'black' magic and are therefore weaker than them. This links back in to a number of mysterious deaths which are described in the previous books as it turns out that the Ichani have been sending magician slaves to Imardin to test the limits of the magicians' (and in particular Akkarin's) power by killing people within the city with latent magical ability to build up their own power and test the magicians'. Canavan made the right decision to introduce the idea of mysterious deaths in the previous books because it built up mystery, particularly in relation to Akkarin's character as the reader is led to suspect that he's responsible. It also forms a good way for Akkarin to explain why he's been using black magic and why Sonea would decide that she needs to do the same. Canavan also scores points for using these deaths as a way to re-introduce Cery (a character who was largely AWOL in The Novice and who we are now told is a full Thief) and weave his investigations into this matter with Sonea's arc.
However, Canavan falls down in two places. Firstly, once she establishes that Akkarin is a good character forced to do what are considered bad things (but really aren't), the whole reason for being interested in him fades. Instead, his role is relegated to that of teacher in black arts to lover in very quick succession. In addition, Canavan chooses to run a storyline that Akkarin was responsible for setting Cery up as a Thief and having him identify these Sachkan magician slaces for him so he can kill them. This fails because we have not seen any interaction between Akkarin and Cery in the previous books to set this up - it's dropped on the reader out of the blue. She needed to run a storyline in The Novie whereby Cery slowly rises to a position of power within the Thieves and have him become interested in these mysterious deaths. Without that, it's difficult to feel any empathy with Cery's plot line.
Secondly, Canavan adds an element to muddy the waters by introducing another mysterious female character called Savara. She turns up to offer Cery a hand in identifying and killing the magician slaves and whilst she's established as a powerful warrior in her own right, Canavan is poor at concealing the fact that she's also a magician. Canavan also fails to give Savara anything to do other than be a love interest for Cery and hang around mysteriously. When it eventually emerges that Savara is in fact a magician within Sachaka for the Sachakan King, you feel doubly robbed because what could have been an interesting set-up of why the Sachakan King would send someone to help his Kyralian enemies gets dismissed in a paragraph of exposition as to how they couldn't afford the rogue Ichani to get powerful by conquering them. In many ways therefore, Savara is a Mary-Sue - powerful, beautiful and with no character to speak of apart from being a shag interest for Cery.
When Canavan finally has the Sachakans make an attack, we're exposed to villains of an even more two-dimensional variety than Fergun and Regin. Their leader is Kariko, another in the category of homicidal villains who's cursory rationale for hating Akkarin and wanting to destroy him is due to Akkarin's having killed his brother. We don't see a lot of Kariko beyond some gratuitous scenes to establish how evil he is (cruel killing, evil laughs and forcing Rothen to watch him kill members of the Magicians' Guild and innocent civilians). I'm not giving anything away by telling you that he gets his just deserts in the end. Speaking of Fergun and Regin, both make cameo re-appearances and neither have really improved, although Canavan does go the predictably route of redeeming Regin and having him voice admiration and support for Sonea, in a manner that will bring bile to your mouth.
The token sub-plot involves Dannyl who has discovered a rogue magician called Farand and is bringing him and some co-conspirator would-be rogue magicians back to the Guild for judgment. The premise of this sub-plot is really an excuse to discuss Dannyl's homosexual feelings for Tayend and show his eventual coming out whilst simultaneously being in the closet. I have written before about how uncomfortable this storyline made me and my feelings didn't change. What could have been a good way to explore homosexuality and homosexual relationships is really blanketed in this idea that men who love men need to be careful about revealing it because people see it as wrong. Given that this is marketed as a young adult book, I'm not sure that this is a great message to be sending out to teenagers - particularly as those who are experiencing homosexual feelings will have their fears reinforced in terms of people's reactions.
I should mention that we also get exposed to Akkarin's backstory and the mysterious period of time he spent away from the Guild (he got enslaved by the Ichani and learnt black magic to survive - shocker!) and there's also a tedious plot-line whereby the Guild discover that both Sonea and Akkarin have been using black magic and decide to exile them to Sachaka. I describe this as tedious because the handling of it is contrived and it's there to try and give extra credence to the love story element. In particular, Canavan paints her characters in terms of black and white - all of the magicians decide that they will not give Sonea or Akkarin the benefit of the doubt and there is only a cursory discussion as to whether they are telling the truth and should hedge their bets. Life simply is not like that and given that Canavan has tried to give an idea of the politics of the Guild in the earlier books, it is disappointing that she should handle her big political scene in such a clumsy manner.
As I have said before, Canavan has obviously put a lot of thought into this story and how her society opertes. What lets the books down is her failure to translate this onto the page. She wants us to believe that this is a complex society with differing tensions between classes, racial groups and political interests but doesn't show it. I didn't care about Sonea or Akkarin and their fate left me feeling nothing. Nor did I care about the side characters of Lorlen, Rothen or Dorrien. Her main problem is that these are little more than names on a page - I never got a sense of who they actually were and accordingly could never believe in them. There's a scene towards the end of the book where she mentions some of the magicians who died at the hands of the Ichani. It should have been moving but wasn't because I didn't know who hald those people were or why I should care about them. I felt that this was particularly ham-fisted as it meant that the battle scenes were really for nothing.
In essence, I think that the trilogy would have benefited from a re-write. The strands could almost certainly be woven together more effectively and more time needs to be given to fleshing out the main protaganists. In essence, the author has released three books that do not hang together in a satisfactor way and could have done with a couple more re-writes.
The Verdict:
A hugely disappointing end to a disappointing trilogy. Canavan's characterisation is poor, her plot predictable and the love story was bland, uninspiring and frankly a little icky. I don't think that this has anything for a young adult audience to relate to as Sonea never feels like a teenage girl and by fantasy standards the idea of a magicians' school and battling evil enemies has been done better by other writers (including J. K. Rowling and Anne McCaffrey). Personally, I'd recommend giving it a miss (or at least, get it from a library or second hand book store).
