Mélusine, Elantris and Talyn - aka what I've been reading

[hawkwing_lb]

 

I haven’t posted for a while. I had a bit of a busy weekend, seeing how I finally received a shipment of books from Amazon that I’ve been waiting for. Damn Irish bookshops, that force me to send to the other side of the world for decent new SFF novels.

 

But I digress. Anyone who knows me knows I read voraciously, so it should be no surprise for them to learn that I read all six books inside two days. Three were MMPB: Wen Spencer’s Dog Warrior and A Brother’s Price, and Jane Lindskold’s The Dragon of Despair. All good books, all worth reading.

 

But it was the three hardbacks that set me thinking. Of them, two – Sarah Monette’s Mélusine and Brandon Sanderson’s Elantris – were debut novels. The third was Talyn, by Holly Lisle – an author who’s written, if I have my facts right, something over twenty books. All three are second-world fantasy. I read them consecutively, Talyn first, Elantris last, and I conceived that I liked Talyn best and could not make up my mind whether I preferred Mélusine to Elantris. This flicked a switch somewhere in my – by this time – sleep-deprived brain, and what follows is my attempt to explain – to myself, so apologies if I ramble – why it is that I prefer Talyn to both Mélusine and Elantris, and why it is that I cannot make up my mind whether Elantris is a better book than Mélusine, or vice versa.

 

You see, to me both these books are flawed – they are brilliant, shining, polished gems of fantasy, but remain to me, at least, flawed. Possibly that’s because I’m falling into the trap of wanting the author to write exactly the kind of book that I want to read – in fact, that’s more than likely it. They come, it seems to me, from opposite ends of the fantasy spectrum. Mélusine is a story crafted more, perhaps, in the literary mould, where the internal journey of the characters is more significant than external events, and Elantris, while not in the High Quest mode, nevertheless is a story where the characters act, it seems, more because of outside influences.

 

Mélusine follows the fates of the wizard Felix Harrowgate and the cat-burglar Mildmay, who are, about one-third of the way through the book, thrown together by events. It’s written in first person, alternately from Felix’s and Mildmay’s point of view, and very effectively done. Mildmay’s down-to-earth vocabulary contrasts sharply with the more educated Felix, and Felix’ bouts of madness are illustrated with a corresponding, I don’t know, depth in the writing. His metaphors become richer, I think, the prose a little more lush, and at the same time he seems more childlike. Compare Felix in madness:

 

The voices in my head – babbling, excoriating, mocking, whining – fall silent as if slain. I sit up. Sometimes the monsters get angry if I don’t.

 

with Mildmay:

 

I met Ginevra Thomson in the ordinary way of business. She was looking for a cat burglar. I was looking for a client:

 

The contrast, oh the contrast! Their voices never seem forced, and the difference in the world as seen from their eyes -!

 

The world, too, is well-drawn. The city of Mélusine is sketched in detail, with history and intrigues and good parts and dangerous parts. It's believable.

 

But, you see, this is where I find the book flawed. Because Mélusine is almost too detailed, and its detail is confusing. And though I was completely absorbed by the book while reading it, when I reached the end it seemed to me that there were characters introduced, and left dangling somewhere along the way. There will be sequel, so maybe that’s just me being picky and feeling vaguely unsatisfied with the odd hanging plot-point or two in what is, overall, an excellent and self-contained book.

 

If Mélusine is an excellent and self-contained book, sprawling, leisurely, and confident, then what is Elantris?

 

The answer to that is, I’m not quite sure. Since my body says it’s past my bed-time, I’ll continue this tomorrow.

 

Elantris tomorrow. On Thursday, Talyn.