a question of trust

Currently reading: The Dark Mirror by Juliet Marillier.

I actually found it when I walked into Barnes & Noble to kill some time on a Sunday afternoon before meeting someone for coffee. I had no intent, none whatsoever, to buy a book. Yet I walked out with one.

Well first of all the cover art is actually good.



Look how rich and evocative that is. The overall packaging of the book was very attractive, and this was a trade paperback. Anyways, that made me grab it off the shelf and read the opening lines:

The druid stood in the doorway, as still as a figure carven in dark stone, watching the riders come up the hill under the oaks. Dusk had fallen. Beyond the screening trees, Serpent Lake was a dim shining, and rooks winged to their roosts in the last light, calling in their secret, harsh language. It was autumn: past the feast of Measure. The air was full of crisp, blue cold that halted the breath in the chest.

Lush, beautiful prose that avoids descending into purple goo. How could I resist?

Yeah, I don't usually do Celtic fantasy. I just don't have much interest in druids and painted warriors and the like. But the druids in this book feel more real somehow, more primal. It also helps that the focus of the book is almost entirely on character. There is some action but mostly we're watching Marillier's two main characters grow, fall apart, and hopefully come together.

Bridei is the son of a king, being raised in the household of a powerful druid for some secret destiny. At the age of six he finds an infant child on the doorstep of the house and takes her in. It is obvious that she is a child of the fair folk, a prospect which disturbs his druid mentor Broichan. The girl they name Tuala, and sure enough she grows up to be a beautiful creature that men either fear or desire. Naturally she and Bridei are secretly in love with each other, and just as naturally forces of fate and prejudice conspire to keep them apart.

In a sense, it's all very predictable: we know they'll eventually fall for each other, even if they can't admit it to themselves. And though I haven't yet finished the book, I'm pretty sure that they'll get together, if not in this book than in one of the inevitable sequels. But, as they say, it's not the destination, it's the journey. These people and this world are beautifully drawn, pulling me into a time where men feared the wolves in the forest and the fey folk in the trees almost as much as they did each other.

My only real complaint about the book (and you knew their had to be one!) is perhaps one of personal taste: I don't like it when authors suddenly bring in 'outside perspective'. Marillier primarily alternates between Bridei's perspective and Tuala's, which you would expect. Very occasionally, however, the reader gets to 'overhear' a conversation between two mysterious representatives of the Good Folk who then discuss their plans for the boy and the girl's future.

I've always loathed the plot device of suddenly cutting to the lair of the enemy to learn of his nefarious plans. The only place I can ever recall enjoying this was in the original Star Wars films. While these creatures seem to ultimately be on the side of our heroes, this is essentially the same device and the effect is equally jarring. It's also not clear what the author hopes her readers will gain from these little interludes. As a device for foreshadowing, it's rather clumsy and obvious. If the intent was to keep us interested, well, I'm already quite invested in the characters and don't need all this talk of high and mighty destinies to keep turning the pages. The only useful effect might be to comfort the reader, like a narrator before an act break, promising the audience that everything is going to be alright. But I'm a tough-skinned, experienced reader. I can handle it!

Again, you could chalk this up to personal taste. I simply don't like it when the author suddenly injects a new and unheralded perspective into the book. Another author who has recently annoyed me with this is Barry Eisler in his John Rain thrillers. From the beginning of the series, the camera has been firmly in lethal assassin John Rain's head. We go with him as he plans and executes his kills and deals with the consequences. Then in the last couple of novels, Eisler has started 'cutting' to third person perspectives featuring other characters. I understand that he's trying to build tension and give a wider perspective on increasingly complex narratives, but the effect is jarring an unwelcome all the same. We like it in John Rain's head. It's a pretty exciting place. I don't need a narrator reminding me that "Trouble was brewing. DUN DUN DUUUUUN!!!"

I want the author to give me some credit for being intelligent enough to keep up, and also to give their own characters some respect. Trust your characters! If they're good ones, we will follow them to whatever end.