Rating: 
Summary: Brust as Paarfi: The Last Chapter
Review: With "Sethra Lavode," Brust brings the "Viscount of Adrilankha" series to a conclusion. And, perhaps, the larger Khaavren stories begun with "The Phoenix Guards" as well. But before turning to "Sethra" some background is probably appropriate.The entire Khaavren trilogy, of course, was written by Paarfi, who redefines the word "prolix" with each page he writes. Brust is merely something like a translator. There were times when his translations were stretched in "Viscount" and especially "Castle Black," the two earlier books, but in "Sethra" there is a return to the wonderful style of "Phoenix Guards" and "500 Years." This book moves along, without ever giving up the narrative conceit and tone. As for the plot, in "Viscount," the Empress Zerika recovered the Imperial Orb; in "500 Years" she fought to claim the throne; in "Sethra" she must fight to keep it against a Pretender and the deadly machinations of his fellow plotters. Our heros have managed to accumulate considerable number of enemies across the four earlier books. And those enemies have all allied together in a final effort to defeat Empress Zerika, Khaavren, Aerich, Pel and Tazendra. I'm unsure whether to call these books a pastiche or homage to Alexander Dumas; perhaps they are something of both. Brust . . . er, Paarfi, pokes immense fun at himself. Brust has written elsewhere that writing as Paarfi is great fun, and Brust's enjoyment and delight is apparent. Where Dumas verbosity was a consequence being paid by the word, Brust. . . er, Paarfi writes for his own pleasure and the pleasure of an attentive reader. And for the sly knife in the ribs. For example, in "500 Years" Paarfi notes that the decadent Phoenix Emperor, Tortaalik, changes his clothes 8-10 times a day, but that since there were already several books written on the Emperor's dress, he wouldn't write another. So much for Robert Jordan. As others have noted, the narrative is delightfully infuriating. Paarfi thinks nothing of interrupting the story at a critical pound to expound - at length - on whatever has crossed his mind or his path. I caution that if you think "irony" describes rusty water, much of these tales will be lost on you. One other nice touch: many of the events of the "Viscount" trilogy have been foreshadowed in the "Taltos" series, which is itself some ten books long now. Brust manages to keep these stories consistent with those books, which are slightly later in time, without ever sacrificing excitement or consistency. Kudos to Brust. . . er. Paarfi, on a story well told and well concluded. Kudos to Tor on having the courage to publish these tales, which in several senses are well outside the normal fantasy/science fiction genre. Strongly recommended.
Rating:
Summary: Brust as Paarfi: The Last Chapter
Review: With "Sethra Lavode," Brust brings the "Viscount of Adrilankha" series to a conclusion. And, perhaps, the larger Khaavren stories begun with "The Phoenix Guards" as well. But before turning to "Sethra" some background is probably appropriate. The entire Khaavren trilogy, of course, was written by Paarfi, who redefines the word "prolix" with each page he writes. Brust is merely something like a translator. There were times when his translations were stretched in "Viscount" and especially "Castle Black," the two earlier books, but in "Sethra" there is a return to the wonderful style of "Phoenix Guards" and "500 Years." This book moves along, without ever giving up the narrative conceit and tone. As for the plot, in "Viscount," the Empress Zerika recovered the Imperial Orb; in "500 Years" she fought to claim the throne; in "Sethra" she must fight to keep it against a Pretender and the deadly machinations of his fellow plotters. Our heros have managed to accumulate considerable number of enemies across the four earlier books. And those enemies have all allied together in a final effort to defeat Empress Zerika, Khaavren, Aerich, Pel and Tazendra. I'm unsure whether to call these books a pastiche or homage to Alexander Dumas; perhaps they are something of both. Brust . . . er, Paarfi, pokes immense fun at himself. Brust has written elsewhere that writing as Paarfi is great fun, and Brust's enjoyment and delight is apparent. Where Dumas verbosity was a consequence being paid by the word, Brust. . . er, Paarfi writes for his own pleasure and the pleasure of an attentive reader. And for the sly knife in the ribs. For example, in "500 Years" Paarfi notes that the decadent Phoenix Emperor, Tortaalik, changes his clothes 8-10 times a day, but that since there were already several books written on the Emperor's dress, he wouldn't write another. So much for Robert Jordan. As others have noted, the narrative is delightfully infuriating. Paarfi thinks nothing of interrupting the story at a critical pound to expound - at length - on whatever has crossed his mind or his path. I caution that if you think "irony" describes rusty water, much of these tales will be lost on you. One other nice touch: many of the events of the "Viscount" trilogy have been foreshadowed in the "Taltos" series, which is itself some ten books long now. Brust manages to keep these stories consistent with those books, which are slightly later in time, without ever sacrificing excitement or consistency. Kudos to Brust. . . er. Paarfi, on a story well told and well concluded. Kudos to Tor on having the courage to publish these tales, which in several senses are well outside the normal fantasy/science fiction genre. Strongly recommended.
Rating:
Summary: Sethra Lavode
Review: You pretend that you wish to know about the book titled Sethra Lavode? Cha! Has it been an hour since you've wished for anything else? Steven Brust's enthusiasm and precision for his unique style, prose and "placement of words on a page" reaches its zenith in his latest work, Sethra Lavode. The dialogue is both effortless and delicious, especially when the circumstances are at their most grave (when the title character desperately arrives to tell her Majesty that there is an enemy army a matter of a few day's travel from the throne it requires several pages of dialogue to even broach the subject, or when she appears before her namesake in the midst of battle to gather critical intelligence and issue urgent orders the pleasantries issue first like a ball following a descending maze contraption). The battle in the cave makes one wish they could both read and pace at the same time. Morrolan before the icon brings forth preternatural emotions in the reader, although his actions have never been written before they ring true as though they are the collective memory of humanity (not just that we wish we did that, but like we actually peeformed them in antiquity). The story doesn't rely on the tired, formulaic back-and-forth attempts at contrived crisis to keep the readers attention; instead it flows realistically (if that applies in a fantasy novel) and satisfactorily to its conclusion. The Afterword lacks intelligibility yet doesn't harm the actual work, instead it reveals the authors current pathology and sorry attempt to rationalize making a career out of a pastime; the good news being that by increasing his indebtedness it will insure he'll need to write more books. Those chips will be your huckleberry, Ringo.
Rating:
Summary: Sethra Lavode
Review: You pretend that you wish to know about the book titled Sethra Lavode? Cha! Has it been an hour since you've wished for anything else? Steven Brust's enthusiasm and precision for his unique style, prose and "placement of words on a page" reaches its zenith in his latest work, Sethra Lavode. The dialogue is both effortless and delicious, especially when the circumstances are at their most grave (when the title character desperately arrives to tell her Majesty that there is an enemy army a matter of a few day's travel from the throne it requires several pages of dialogue to even broach the subject, or when she appears before her namesake in the midst of battle to gather critical intelligence and issue urgent orders the pleasantries issue first like a ball following a descending maze contraption). The battle in the cave makes one wish they could both read and pace at the same time. Morrolan before the icon brings forth preternatural emotions in the reader, although his actions have never been written before they ring true as though they are the collective memory of humanity (not just that we wish we did that, but like we actually peeformed them in antiquity). The story doesn't rely on the tired, formulaic back-and-forth attempts at contrived crisis to keep the readers attention; instead it flows realistically (if that applies in a fantasy novel) and satisfactorily to its conclusion. The Afterword lacks intelligibility yet doesn't harm the actual work, instead it reveals the authors current pathology and sorry attempt to rationalize making a career out of a pastime; the good news being that by increasing his indebtedness it will insure he'll need to write more books. Those chips will be your huckleberry, Ringo.
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