I just finished The High Lord by Trudi Canavan, instead of writing (more) for NaNoWriMo. I’m down to the wire and a little behind for my early deadline but I could not put this book down. Absolutely could not. I decided I’d read a chapter or two earlier (I’d been doing that with the book so far, systematically reading only a few chapters at a time, desperately trying to save it for Thanksgiving break and finding I either enjoyed it too much or read it too fast). Then I hit its end-of-Part-I rise and I could not stop. I could barely contain myself all through Part II, getting all giddy and page-turning-crazed every few minutes or every other chapter.

I’ll try to keep the spoilers vague, as usual. Not to give anything away, but the ending both surprised and somehow felt right, though naturally I had thought of two or three other possibilities that I’d been thinking were more likely than what happened. Had I written the book at this stage in my life, it would have ended differently, I know that, and I can’t help thinking of the ending I wanted and didn’t get and feeling a bit sad. But I did enjoy it, let me make that clear. Admittedly, if every book I read proceeded along a path that was perfectly in line with my own tastes and desires, I would have no reason to write, now would I? I started writing books as a kid in “answer” to books that displeased me for one reason or another.

Overall, I really enjoyed this book, and the trilogy as a whole. I’m glad I bought them, retrospectively; I’ll end up reading them again one day, I’m sure. The third book was by and large the best and most exciting, as well as most satisfying, but that was accomplished in large measure due to its being the final book of a trilogy. The plots of each book were distinct and strong, as was the trilogy’s overarching plot. What Canavan built up across the trilogy paid off very nicely throughout. Each book had its little satisfactions but ultimately the third was the best, just because the largest, most interesting set-ups generally have the greatest and most exciting pay-offs. The character of the High Lord, Akkarin, for instance. He’s built up remarkably well — and slowly! — but a lot of that also has to do with the trade-offs between point of view. Canavan made certain POV judgments early on (limited third person) and decided to only choose certain characters through whom we would get to consistently see their world (Sonea, Cery, Lorlen, Rothen, Dannyl), and others to consistently be a mystery for us and the characters to discover. That was a good choice that paid off well. 

Two points disagreed with me, though. The first book took forever to engage me. I was determined but not so many readers are. (I’d invested money which I never do when there are library copies easily accessible, which there weren’t for this trilogy.) I also wasn’t too daunted because the books are not that thick. They’re a good, proper-book size. I like proper-book-sized books. Why take 800-900 pages when you can do it in 300-500? Yet, to give Canavan credit, once you stumble through names and the world (which is immediately presented in full complexity — which was good; but this is not terrifically interesting because it’s all conversations and arguments — which was bad) there is enough there to hold on to. The High Lord and Dannyl probably hooked me the most to start with — even Sonea (the main character) was a little boring, though Cery proved interesting immedaitely. 

The second point I wasn’t crazy about was, well, Trudi Canavan’s style. This had its good and its unfortunate moments. She is a terrific plotter and has a very smooth sense for consistent, active pace and tension — only when she’s gotten all of the “set up” done. She spends a lot of time setting up (especially in The Magician’s Guild where that slow start can also viewed as “set up” for the entire trilogy, which a large part of it effectively is). The exposition in that regard was engaging, however, so this only hit me retrospectively. The good of such quick plotting and movement is that the book is a really engaging and quick read once you “get into it”, which I always like to see and read. As much as I like to be pulled in from the first paragraph, sometimes I’ll be more patient if the book gets really good and makes up for it, as these did.

The bad part of her style of writing was that I had a hard time connecting, emotionally, at several pointswith the characters and the scenes (especially in The High Lord). These emotional moments were described in such rough, to-the-point exposition I couldn’t feel with the characters. I was shown (good, at least) how they seemed to be feeling and knew, based on the set up how they must be feeling given very good previous set up and characterization, but that resonance, that which should make me Cheer! or Weep! was not there. My eyes practically flew over these scenes as usual and I felt my mind skid to a halt and think, “Wait, what just happened to whom? What just went on there?” That was disappointing and a little disheartening. I love getting brought to that same height of emotion as the characters, especially characters we care about, or should be caring about. As I wrote about in my thesis, fantasy literature is a form of art, and in its highest form, as any true art, it can evoke in us the visceral emotions of the highest highs and lowest lows of the human experience. Regardless of how magical or inhuman the characters are, they have still got to resonate with us for us to really take something powerfully away from the book — and I do believe the best writing always lets us take something away from it, regardless of what that “something” is.

I bawl my eyes out when reading books; this has happened in the past, both for “happy” and “bittersweet” endings. Robin McKinley’s Deerskin saw me reacting colorfully all over the spectrum, while the third book in Robin Hobb’s Liveship Trader’s Trilogy (Ship of Destiny) had me bawling all over the place and grinning through tears in a way I really was shocked about. (Love/hate with characters? Yes. That book had me all over the place — and one of the most rewarding, shocking, and thoroughly terrific character arcs I’ve ever read. I love Malta Vestrit.) Come to think of it, Robin Hobb usually evinces that strong emotional reaction from me; Fool’s Fate had me bawling for hours, but that was also PMS coupled with one of those unusual twin-emotion realizations: when you realize what the character has seen and felt is what you, in the real world, are experiencing in your own life as well. Fitz and I had a moment, at the end of Fool’s Fate when I read it during the fall of my senior year of college. I think I remember distinctly that Bryan had to hold me as I nattered on and on about things he was really confused about having to do with the book’s plot and its connection to my own life, however tenouous and vague it was factually but how similar emotionally in some weird sense.

Call me crazy but I love when a book evokes that level of response from me. As much as I hate the feeling of “leaving a world” that really, really good books (or series) give me when I finish reading them (and again, upon re-readings), I love it. It’s not “escapist”; no, I don’t read these books desperately seeking an emotional distraction, though I have read books over and over seeking that comfort before. But a really good book does pull me in and let me see a different world and hang around with a hopefully interesting cast of characters, and it’s the most exciting thing in the world for me. When writing, I get as emotionally attached as when reading, though, which both makes it fun and tough, but it’s the most rewarding thing I’ve done.

To conclude, I definitely recommend The High Lord and the whole Black Magician Trilogy, though I bet you won’t react to it the same way I did. We’re all different readers, after all.

Now, to put my mind firmly on being a winner of National Novel Writing Month 2008. It’s been a good month but my brain is exhausted. Wrung out. If this novel had been at all planned or outlined I doubt I’d be feeling so wrung dry of all imaginative juices. But it’s been a really informative month about my own natural pace and capacity for work, as well as given me a newer appreciation for my desperate need to take breaks from stretches of “work” — reading, watching TV, playing mindless games… these are all good things. Really they are. I’ve missed them dearly this month.