Scene:
an ornate room with a nervous young man with sunken eyes, a squat man with bright eyes and an interminable bounce to
his step, and another young man with a handsome jaw looking hatefully at both of them.
Two bloodied figures barge through the door, hardly recognizable as humans. Breathless and beaten, they stumble into the
room, the larger one collapsing face first into the floor.
Three masked figures in black rush in seconds later, brandishing determined faces and brutal steels.
"They're coming with us."
The designs of their cruel weapons suggest live capture is not a necessity.
Confused altercation of shouting and arguing ensues. Suddenly, the door on the other side of the room smashes open.
Standing in its center is an old man, stark naked, covered in soap and suds dribbling down his neck and dripping off his
"fruits".
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?"
"They're... cominig with us." Less determined, less certain.
"My patience has run out!"
One of the masked figures explodes. Flesh, blood and bone shoot isotropically and strike both room and persons like shrapnel.
The figures leave.
End Scene
Say one thing for The Blade Itself, say that it has memorable scenes. - Logan Ninefingers, probably
Link to audiobook: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Z57vIhw1Lo
The Blade Itself is the first novel of a fantasy trilogy ("The First Law"), and by the first third of the book, it shows.
Like most openers of fantasy series, The Blade Itself starts off with a heavy exposition: people and places,
language and societies, with a slow trickle of insight into numerous cultures and even magic. The exposition continues into
the second half of the book... and eventually finishes, yet with no sign of stopping.
The Blade Itself was relentless in its world-building, yet the multi-faceted characters, memorable scenes,
and brilliant suspense makes you forget your drinking background information from a firehose.
The narrative style is third person limited and typically hops from character to character, transitioning between chapters.
The six narrators are well-balanced in terms of the richness of their storylines as well as depth of character (save for
one). If you heard the narrators include a crippled, half-toothless torturer and insufferable nobleman in
the army, you might be dubious of their worthiness to be dubbed "lovable characters". However, they stand out above the others
in this regard, and I found myself appreciating their personalities the most. Other narrators are almost as captivating,
inncluding a barbarian who is afraid of fighting, and another one who always has to piss, and a nigh-peasant who ascended to
the role of major in the army. The weakest narrator (so far) is an escaped slave, whose burdens have weighed her down so much
she can't carry a conversation (or a personality for that matter, save that of a killer). That description isn't quite fair,
and her adventure's twists and turns more than make up for a lack of character introspection.
I've touched upon the intriguing characters, and given one of my favorite memorable scenes. However, The Blade Itself shines
most brightly ( ;] ) in its ability to generate suspense. Plots such as Giselle's fencing tournament, Glocka's investigations
into the corruption within the city keep you guessing, while other questions are more sublty introduced to an observant reader:
Why does the First of the Magii Bayas want Giselle in his quest? He told Giselle that an expert swordsman would be a valuable
asset to the crew, but he himself secretly enchanted Giselle to make him win the tournament. There is something else going on
here.
Why does Bayas want Logan? He seems to greatly revere his ability to speak to the Spirits, and comments on the rarity of this
ability ("I do not have the gift."), yet the Spirits' numbers are dwindling. There are only three left, and they speak in
vague words and do not seem pivotal in anyone's future. There is something here we don't know.
Glockta has been assigned to the Superior Inquisitor position in Gerkel, but he promised Major West he'd take care of his
sister in Adua. This was the first heartfelt interaction from Glocta in almost a decade, so he won't simply cast this
committment aside. What will he do?
The Blade Itself begins with a disorganized smattering of narratives, which converge into a coherent story in a satisfying way.
Well, almost. The novel ends with a beginning: multiple journeys are now poised to begin, and by the final chapter all pieces
are set. Much like a good appetizer, I found myself unsatisfied only in the sense of wanting more, which is the best
impression a first book in a trilogy can hope to offer.