honor – One Thousand And One Parsecs

Trope Tuesday: The Last DJ

In any vast bureaucracy, you’re bound to find obstructive bureaucrats and professional butt-kissers. But if you look long and hard enough, usually somewhere towards the bottom, you may be lucky enough to find one of the Last DJs.

The Last DJ is a man with integrity, who often puts honor before reason and cannot be bought, no matter how much his superiors try. Consequently, he usually ends up somewhere at the bottom of the organizational hierarchy, no matter how competent he may be. In extreme cases, he may be reassigned to Antarctica. Either way, do not expect to see him kicked upstairs–that’s for insufferably incompetent idiots who are promoted to an administrative post so everyone else can get back to the real work. If anything, expect this guy to get thrown under the bus.

Depending on the story, he may be a brotherly mentor figure for the main character or play some other sort of supporting role. However, don’t expect him to be much of a plot driver, unless the story is specifically about him. Because of his refusal to suck up or play office politics, he’s rarely in a position to effect change or become a whistle-blower.

Over time, this character may turn into something of a sour knight, developing a thick skin of crusty cynicism to protect his idealistic heart from all the crap he continually has to put up with. Like the Obi-wan, if he’s a mentor figure, he will probably die. If he’s the hero, though, or part of the ragtag bunch of misfits, expect him to be vindicated, possibly in a crowning moment of awesome. Rarely if ever will this guy be the villain–that’s the obstructive bureaucrat, whom this guy hates.

Lieutenant Armstrong from Fullmetal Alchemist is a good example of this trope. He’s a good soldier who was passed up on all the promotions because he refused to go along with the war crimes done against the Ishvalan people. His sister, who WAS reassigned to Antarctica (though probably by choice), is a whole other story.

Another good example of this trope is Lucius Fox from Batman Begins. The interesting thing about this one is that he’s a mentor figure who actually survives. This is probably because the story requires a lot of badassery from the hero, and Lucius is in no position to fill that role, so there’s no threat of him outshining Bruce Wayne. This is also a good example of the last DJ getting vindicated in the end.

In my own work, the best example I can think of is Tiera from Desert Stars. She’s fiercely stubborn with an uncompromising sense of honor, which results in her being stripped of her claim of inheritance due to her stepmother Shira’s wiles (although ‘stepmother’ isn’t quite the right word–how do you describe your father’s evil second wife, when he’s still married to your mother?). I’ve got some interesting plans for a sequel where she’s the main character, but that book is still in the early conceptual stages.

In my own life, I’ve actually fulfilled this trope. I don’t care to discuss the details of it publicly, but back when I was interning in Washington DC, I had a very negative experience that this trope describes perfectly. It’s one of the reasons I hate Washington so much, and decided to become a global nomad who makes a difference on the ground, rather than pushing papers in someone else’s petty empire of personal influence. It’s also one of the reasons why I started the Star Wanderers series–because I wanted to tell a story about people on the space-bound frontier, as far away from the galactic empire as possible.

I may not write many stories about vast bureaucracies or other hierarchical organizations, just because that doesn’t interest me, but whenever I do, you’ll probably see this guy pop up. As someone who’s been there, I have a lot of sympathy for this character. You’ll probably see him (or her) pop up in my work from time to time.

Trope Tuesday: Worthy Opponent

Sometimes, it’s not the Big Bad the heroes are fighting against, so much as an almost friendly opponent who is not so different from them after all. That’s what this trope is all about.

The Worthy Opponent is no mere redshirt or mook–quite often, in fact, he’s the Dragon of the opposing side–but unlike the Big Bad or the Evil Chancellor, he won’t stab his enemies in the back or willfully break the rules of war. He keeps his word, fights like a gentleman, and may even have a soft spot for the hero. He’ll duel to the death, but will hand the hero back his sword rather than hit him when he’s down. If he’s in a position of command, he’ll most likely be a father to his men, and sorely regret the loss of life that he is forced to oversee. When defeated, it’s not unusual to hear him say that it has been an honor.

This trope has been on my mind recently because I’ve been on something of a Civil War trip, watching and rewatching the movie Gettysburg. It’s a fascinating movie, not the least because there are no clear bad guys. In the battle of ideologies, I side solidly with the Union, but in the battle of men, I don’t know who to side for.

General Lee is one of my favorite characters, and certainly the commander for whom I have the most respect. When General Longstreet is forced to order his men on the suicidal charge on the third day, I can’t help but cringe. And perhaps the most touching moment of the whole movie is when the wounded General Armistead asks to see his old friend, General Hancock, only to learn that he has been shot as well:

BG Armistead: I would like … to see General Hancock. Can you tell me … where General Hancock may be found?

Lt. Chamberlain: I’m sorry, sir. The general’s down, he’s been hit.

BG Armistead: No! Not … both of us! Not … all of us! Please, God!

The main appeal to me of this movie, and in a more general sense of this entire trope, is the roll that honor plays in the characters’ interactions with each other. Yes, they may be bitter enemies, and they may not hesitate to kill each other, but they aren’t fighting because they hate each other–they’re fighting because honor demands it. And just like how the Fettered gains great strength through strict obedience to his personal code, so too does the Worthy Opponent gain both strength and respect by being a man of honor.

Obviously, this sort of antagonist makes it almost impossible to tell a story with black and white morality. But with this trope, that’s kind of the point. It exists to tell us that the enemy is not so different from us, and that not every bad guy is completely evil. It doesn’t have to be used to set up an Aesop, though–when done well (as it was in Gettysburg), it’s satisfying enough on its own.

I played a lot with this trope in Stars of Blood and Glory. In that book, Abaqa, a young Hameji warrior trying to build a name for himself, falls prisoner to Danica and her band of Tajji mercenaries, who he has been taught all his life to hate. Gradually, though, they come to respect each other, to the point where … well, I won’t spoil it for you. But it was definitely fun to write. 😀

I haven’t played a lot with this trope yet in other stories, but I definitely hope to in the future. I’ve got another novel I’d like to write from Danica’s point of view, sort of a prequel novel to explore her and Roman’s origins, as well as the other Tajji mercenaries. And then there’s Heart of the Nebula, which needs a major rewrite but has some elements of this trope in it. So yeah, you can definitely expect to see more of this sort of thing from me in the future.

Trope Tuesday: Honor Before Reason

If you can’t do something smart, what do you do? Something right–at least, when this trope is played straight.

Characters who place honor before reason tend to be idealists, starry-eyed or otherwise. It’s not that they’re stupid–at least, not always–but they do tend to be vulnerable to flaw exploitation. If the Fettered can’t take a third option, this is how he often gets trapped.

On the other hand, without this trope, we wouldn’t have as many heroic sacrifices or men of their word. In the dark, everyone would turn out to be a jerkass, and the world would be a terrible place to live.

Since the best stories often have some sort of moral dilemma at their core, there’s something about this trope that speaks to us, even (or perhaps especially) in the face of sadistic choices and necessary evils. It appeals to the more innocent part of us that still wants to believe in incorruptibility. On the other hand, characters who follow this path don’t tend to think creatively enough to actually solve the problem–or at least, solve the problem without committing the ultimate sacrifice.

Not surprisingly, this trope is a very good indicator of where a story stands on the Sliding Scale of Idealism vs. Cynicism. In idealistic stories, characters who place honor before reason are often vindicated, such as Bilbo in The Hobbit or Luke Skywalker in Star Wars. In more cynical stories, the honorable characters not only get eaten alive, their noble idealism actually makes the problem worse. The classic example of this is Ned Stark from A Game of Thrones, as the cartoon above suggests.

The opposite of this trope, reason before honor, is shoot the dog. Interestingly enough, in the first scene in which Ned Stark appears, he commits an act that arguably fulfills both tropes at the same time (executing a man who is most likely innocent but has been found guilty by the law). Lawful stupid doesn’t necessarily come into play, but it often overlaps. Again, it all goes back to the scale.

This trope pops from time to time in my own writing, though I’m not nearly as cynical about it as George R.R. Martin. Jalil from Desert Stars generally fits this trope, though Tiera is just as honorable and definitely not stupid about it. Stella from Bringing Stella Home fits this trope at first, though her choices are vindicated later on. In Stars of Blood and Glory, though, there’s a character who fits this trope perfectly, and I’m not sure whether he gets vindicated or not. It will be interesting to see what the readers have to say about that.

Trope Tuesday: Lawful Neutral

klaus — Hey, SOMEONE had to bring order to Europa.

Unlike the Lawful Good, the Lawful Neutral has no qualms about committing heinous acts to maintain order. Whether for country, for position or for the preservation of the English language, these characters believe in law above all else, giving stern chase or sacrificing their own personal feelings to achieve it.

From the easydamus character alignment page:

A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs her. Order and organization are paramount to her. She may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard, or she may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government.

Interestingly, while Lawful Neutrals believe in upholding some form of law, it doesn’t always have to be the law. Characters who follow a strict personal code of honor often fall under this alignment, even if that code of honor runs contrary to the law of the land. The most extreme example of this is the Übermensch, who transcends the laws of society and becomes a law unto himself (though in a lot of cases, the Übermensch ends up being Lawful Evil).

While it may seem like most Lawful Neutrals would be antagonists, that’s not always the case. In Fullmetal Alchemist, General Olivier Armstrong may be stern and austere, but she spends most of the story on the side of the good guys. And in Girl Genius, Klaus might seem like a bad guy at first, but really, he just wants to restore order and defeat the Other. Both Death and Lord Vetinari in the Discworld series are also Lawful Neutrals, but they’re never on the bad guys’ side or the good guys’ side…they’re neutral.

In my own work, the best example of this would probably be the Patrician from Heart of the Nebula. I haven’t published this one yet, but I hope to have it out later this year. Abaqa from Stars of Blood and Glory is another good example, the son of Qasar and Sholpan. But in the works I’ve already published, Ben from Bringing Stella Home is probably the most prominent Lawful Neutral.

Trope Tuesday: Lawful Evil

If the term “villain” applies to anyone, it applies to the Lawful Evil. Whether the evil overlord, his trusted right-hand man, or one of his devoted minions, these characters are dedicated wholeheartedly to their cause, whether they believe it will lead to a better world or not. Taking over the world is often a major obsession, because hey, someone’s got to do it. A staple of the evil empire, these guys often turn their country into an industrialized wasteland, though they often have propaganda machines to take care of any bad press. Bonus points if they can transform into a freakish monster in battle.

From the easydamus character alignment page:

A lawful evil villain methodically takes what he wants within the limits of his code of conduct without regard for whom it hurts. He cares about tradition, loyalty, and order but not about freedom, dignity, or life. He plays by the rules but without mercy or compassion. He is comfortable in a hierarchy and would like to rule, but is willing to serve. He condemns others not according to their actions but according to race, religion, homeland, or social rank. He is loath to break laws or promises.

While Lawful Evils believe in following rules and keeping their word, they’re not above emotional manipulation, negotiating unfavorable contracts, or following the law in letter only. Even so, they tend to suffer from genre blindness and bureaucratic stupidity (as well as megalomania–but hey, that’s part of the job description).

According to tvtropes, Lawful Evils come in four types:

The supreme ruler, dedicated to establishing and maintaining a civic order that is itself evil. A good example of this would be Sauron from The Lord of the Rings.
A zealot or übermensch whose moral code falls outside of established social norms. Khan from The Wrath of Khan is a pretty good example of this, as is Tyler Durden from Fight Club (though your mileage may vary).
The Dragon or other minion who may have their own goals, but answers to the big bad. Darth Vader is probably the most well-known example.
A complete monster who is dedicated to the destruction of free will and liberty. The Mormon conception of Satan fits this perfectly.

The scary thing about this trope is that it actually exists in real life. In fact, outside of our sheltered middle-class, liberal democratic existence (a relatively recent and unusual development in the eyes of history), this type of overlord tends to be the rule and not the exception. You don’t have to look any further than North Korea, Burma, or Syria for examples of this–which is to say nothing of the Soviet Union, the Third Reich, or the British Empire.

My favorite example of this trope is probably Darth Vader, not just because of how badass he is, but because of his heel face turn at the end of Return of the Jedi. Ignoring how bad episodes I, II, and III were, his character arc really is the thing that makes that story. And while we’re on the subject of history, let’s not forget this epic showdown between Stalin and Hitler. Seriously, click that link.

In my own work, the best example of a Lawful Evil would probably be Qasar from Bringing Stella Home / Sholpan. He’s more of the affable type than a true evil overlord, though; that would be Tagatai, who doesn’t really come to power until Stars of Blood and Glory. A much more sinister example would be Emile from Heart of the Nebula, or the villain I have planned for Edenfall–I’d better finish those! And of course, there’s Sheikh Sathi from Desert Stars, though he’s mostly a type 3 Lawful Evil under the thumb of his Neutral Evil wife.

Perhaps one of the reasons I haven’t done a truly despicable Lawful Evil yet is because I’ve been kind of sheltered here in the states. It will be interesting to see how my writing changes after spending some time in Eastern Europe; Georgia, after all, is the homeland of Stalin.

Darth Vader helmet taken from this site.

The gulf between the generations

I just watched a fascinating interview with a 1960s White House intern who claimed to have an eighteen month affair with President John F. Kennedy. But the most interesting thing wasn’t the affair itself, but the way the President’s staff, the “fourth branch” of government (AKA the media), and the entire general public of 1960s America seemed more intent on keeping the secret than on facing the truth about JFK’s many affairs.

It seems that my parents’ generation had so much trust in their government that nobody would even raise the question–that to raise doubts about the integrity of the man who held the highest office in this country would itself be unconscionable. Rather than face the facts, the American public seemed unwilling to do anything that would shatter the gilded image of the man who led the free world. And that, quite frankly, is a mindset that I simply cannot understand.

In contrast, my own generation has very little trust in our government. We’ve been raised in an age of ambiguity, where the enemy doesn’t wear a uniform or pledge allegiance to a flag, but live quietly among us, until they strap a bomb to their bodies or turn a commercial airplane into a weapon of terror. Or at least, that’s the excuse our government gives us for an increasingly invasive security regime that infringes on our basic liberties, enables the military to hold us in detention indefinitely, and sends our soldiers overseas to fight increasingly senseless wars to “liberate” the people of oil-rich nations who don’t even want us there. As if that weren’t enough, the economic crash has taught us that all that stuff our parents taught us about equality and opportunity is really just a pack of lies–that the rich get bailouts while the rest of us foot the bill, and all that stuff about changing the world and being whatever you want to be…yeah. Lies, all of it.

My Dad had an interesting rebuttal to all this, though. He said that it wasn’t his generation that put the president on a pedestal–it was his generation that tore the pedestal down. During the 60s and 70s, the Vietnam era and the rise of the hippy movement, his generation fought back and made it acceptable for us to question the president, or to criticize the government, or to do all the things that we take for granted today. In fact, he said that we’re the ones who are backsliding into complacency, with our deafening echo chambers, our social media inanities, our reactive attachment to corporate brands and advertising, and our almost religious sense of entitlement.

I’m not totally convinced he’s right, but I do think there’s a fundamental gulf between these three generations. Our grandparents’ was the silent generation, where people were expected to keep to their own business and not rock the boat. Our parents’ generation was one of top-down media, where ABC, NBC, and CBS ruled the airwaves and told us all what to think, buy, and believe.

Ours is a much more peer-to-peer generation, but I worry that we’re turning into a collection of mindless herds who are turning the culture wars into a messy riot where we abandon civil dialog and rational thinking for a much more destructive mob mentality that isn’t really building anything, but tearing it all down.

Sometimes, it gets so frustrating that it makes me yearn for the days of the frontier, when anyone could leave it all behind and reinvent themselves somewhere out in the west. That’s probably why I’m so drawn to science fiction, where space is the final frontier. There really are times when I wish I could go to the stars and escape to it all, and I think that shows in my writing.

Maybe that’s why I feel so compelled to write Star Wanderers. It’s basically 80% wish fulfillment, about a guy who goes from planet to planet on the kind of spaceship I wish I had. It’s not all rosy, of course–space can be a cold, dark, and lonely place–but so can this world, when you’re lost and you don’t really know what you’re doing with your life.

Anyhow, those are just some of my random late-night thoughts about the situation in this country and how much things have changed over the decades. If I had a time machine and got a chance to go back to the 60s (after seeing The Empire Strikes Back on opening night, of course), I don’t know I’d be able to recognize this as my own country. But really, I don’t think I recognize anything as my own country anymore. Like Van Gogh, all I can say is the sight of the stars makes me dream.

Story Notebook #5 (part 2)

For those of you who don’t know (or can’t remember, since it’s been so long), I’ve been doing this ongoing thing where I go through my old story notebooks. Last time, we covered my last semester of classes at BYU; this time, we’ll cover my time in Washington DC, when I was trapped in an internship from hell.

Now, you may be wondering: “why is this guy just giving away his ideas for free?” Well, last week at dinner group, the conversation turned to story ideas, so I pulled out my current story notebook and started going down the list. This quickly turned into a game of “name that tune,” where we managed to show that EVERY SINGLE IDEA had already been done.

And you know what? That’s perfectly okay! There are no original ideas anymore, just new ways of executing them, and maybe a handful of combinations that haven’t yet been tried. The purpose of keeping a story notebook with you at all times isn’t to come up with something new, it’s to keep track of the stuff that really turns you on.

Enough with that. On to the notebook.

In a spacefaring culture, the custom will be for the males to leave the station and depart in search of a wife at another port, either to capture or win over in some way. The women will tend more to running off with the travelers. This preserves genetic diversity.

This is actually something I want to talk about in a longer post. The problem of inbreeding in a space-based society is something that many science fiction authors have wrestled with, from Robert Heinlein to C. J. Cherryh. Their solutions are quite inventive, but while I was in Washington DC working on To Search the Starry Sea (my escapist retreat from a hellish internship), I managed to come up with a few of my own, and used them in Star Wanderers. More on that later.

What if one of the founders was a time traveler, sent on a mission to ensure that the US constitution made it through?

Hehe…in other words: James Madison, Time Traveler. It has a certain ring to it, no?

The human mind is like a congress–so many people at extreme odds, arguing constantly but holding together somehow.

Oh boy. If that were true, the US congress today would be like a paranoid schizophrenic.

A subway haunted by patrons from the past–maybe you will become one when it goes back in time.

Who hasn’t been creeped out by the subway at some point or another? Except the New York subway system is way creepier than the Washington DC Metro–I swear, some of those rats are man-killers.

A magic system where the cost is your unborn children. If you don’t have children within a certain period of time, you die.

Sounds like some of the Arab short stories I’ve read. Families and children are much more important to them than to us in the West.

When the Developed World develops instantaneous transportation devices, it will essentially merge into one super country, while the developing world will be left out. The only sense of distance will be in the developing world, and terrorism will be an issue.

Kind of like Larry Niven meets dependency theory.

A government where the Supreme Court is a super-intelligent robot.

Hopefully this would rid the country of activist judges…or would it??

A character who believes, at his core, that there is no such thing as a genuine surprise, simply a lack of information–and that if we had perfect information, there would be no surprises.

Sounds a lot like the platonic 19th century ideal of a scientist. What with quantum physics and such, there aren’t a whole lot of those left.

There are two kinds of shame: shame from loss of honor, and shame from not following the herd. Don’t mistake the one for the other.

This one isn’t so much a story idea as an observation. I learned a lot in my hellish Washington DC internship, most of which had very little to do with my area of study and everything to do with the less-than-honorable ways in which the world works. And on that note:

____ always felt that the world around him was somehow less than real; an illusion. While staring out the window of the train, he wondered if the window wasn’t just a video screen, like the car windows of old movies–or when looking out at the view of the mountains beyond his house, with the picturesque clouds and too-blue sky, if it wasn’t just an elaborate painting on a wall at the end of the world. In moments like these, ____ longed to peel back the video screens–to break down the pretty painted wall at the end of the world–and see what lay on the other side of reality.

If my hellish internship on K street taught me anything, it taught me that I would rather be a writer than have all the connections or political influence in the world. I got out of Washington DC as fast as I could, and haven’t looked back since.

Winter Warriors by David Gemmell

Eons ago, in the Days of Fire, demons feasted upon the souls of men the way that men feast on cattle. Those days ended when the second most powerful demon betrayed his people, damning them to purgatory so that men could inherit the Earth.

Four thousand years have passed, and the demons are beginning to come back. The dread Kreyakin, advance guard to the demon invasion, have already passed into the world of men. In order to open the portal to the other world, however, they must cast a spell requiring the lives of three kings.

Two of the kings have already been sacrificed. The third lies within the womb of the Princess Axiana.

The fate of the mortal world now lies in the hands of three aged warriors–Nogusta the swordsman, Kebra the bowman, and Bison the brute–and a handful of unlikely fugitives. Together, they must stand against the dread Kreyakin and all the forces of hell.

Alright, my attempt at a jacket blurb really doesn’t do this book justice. I want to say it was one of the best Drenai books I’ve ever read, but the truth is it’s just like every other book in the Drenai saga, which is to say that it’s awesome.

I think I’ve figured out why I love David Gemmell’s books so much. It’s because his books so perfectly capture what it means to be a man. Women read Twilight because it perfectly captures the experience of being a teenage girl in love, and Gemmell’s books–all of them–capture what it means to be a man.

I’m not just talking about the platonic ideal of manhood–I’m talking about the everyday reality as well. Two men sitting together in “companionable silence.” A warrior who scoffs when his commander sends some lesser men to accomplish a mission, then after getting chided says “I spoke in haste,” and the matter is dropped. Guys who tackle problem after problem, from fighting duels to fleeing from armies from helping the inexperienced princess with her messy childbirth, and do so without flinching, because hey, someone’s got to do it.

But the ideal is definitely there too, because in every single one of Gemmell’s books, circumstances conspire to push his characters right up to the very limits of their abilities. When that happens, their true character shines out, and the most unlikely ones rise to great feats of heroism, often sacrificing their lives in the process.

Indeed, if there’s one underlying theme in all of Gemmell’s books, it’s about heroism and what makes a true hero. It’s awesome.

The best part, though, is how Gemmell redeems even the darkest characters. I can’t say much about this book without giving away the ending, but let me just say it was extremely satisfying. Evil is not some slimy b-movie monster–it’s a quality that everyone possesses in varying degrees, alongside the potential for greatness.

In this way, I think Gemmell is the antithesis of George R. R. Martin. While both authors write in shades of gray, Martin emphasizes how even the noblest, most honorable people have an ugly black stain somewhere in their character, whereas Gemmell focuses on the potential within all of us to rise above the darkness in our souls and accomplish feats of greatness. His heroes are dark and gritty, but at the end of the day, they are heroes nonetheless.

In short, this book was awesome. If you’ve ever read a book by David Gemmell and loved it, I guarantee you’ll love this one. I certainly did.

The King Beyond the Gate by David Gemmell

Tenaka Khan was a child of two nations and an outsider to both. Half Nadir, half Drenai, the only home he ever knew was in the ranks of the Dragon, the elite fighting forces of the Drenai. But now, a mad dictator rules the land, and the Dragon has been destroyed.

With all his friends dead at the hand of the evil Drenai emperor, Tenaka has only one desire: to steal into the palace and assassinate him. Along the way, however, he makes a number of friends, all of whom seek the same thing, but all for different reasons. As they join forces with the Skoda rebels, Tenaka realizes that he not only has something to die for–he has something to live for.

But in order to defeat the mad emperor, the rebels must fight the Joinings–terrible creatures made from man and beast, who slaughtered the Dragon years before. Only the Nadir can save them–but the Nadir want nothing more than to ravage the Drenai.

If you’ve read my review of David Gemmell’s Legend, you know why I love his books. This one was no less incredible. Parts of it were just as poignant as anything in Legend, and the ending, while bittersweet, was no less satisfying.

It’s really fascinating to me, because Gemmell’s books are not particularly flowery or well written. His descriptions are sparse, his prose is unassuming, his characters, while distinguished from each other, sound more or less the same, and his viewpoint is often inconsistent. But in terms of raw storytelling, his books are unequaled by anything else I’ve ever read.

He makes me fall in love with his characters: I cheer for them when they rise to the heroic deeds that circumstances demand of them, I cry when they fall short of what they could have been, and I weep when they give their lives in the service of something greater than themselves, which is almost invariably the case.

My favorite part of any David Gemmell book has got to be the order of warrior priests known as the Thirty. They don’t show up in every book, but they show up in many of them, and they always share the same characteristics. The warrior priests are dedicated to the Source (Gemmell’s equivalent of God in his Drenai universe), and have the supernatural abilities to speak telepathically, put thoughts into others’ minds, shield their comrades from the magic of the Chaos brethren, and leave their bodies to fly across the world and do battle in other dimensions beyond the grave.

The way the order is run is absolutely fascinating. One person is the mouth, the other the ears, the other the heart, etc. The most unlikely characters always fill the particular roles–but always for good reason. They fight to defend the innocent and pure, but more than that, they always have some great destiny to perform–a destiny that invariably pits them against the forces of Chaos in some great, decisive battle. In that battle, all of them invariably die, except for the weakest among them, who goes out to found the next order of the Thirty.

I don’t know about you, but this kind of stuff, just makes me want to jump up and down. This is fantasy at its best–good versus evil, warriors facing death, and the most unlikely heroes rising to the level of greatness that war and honor demand of them. Throw in a little magic, a brotherhood of evil sorcerers bent on crushing all that is good in the world, and terrible monsters the likes of which exist only in nightmares, and I am so there, man–I am so there.

In short, this book was nothing less than awesome. If you love any book by David Gemmell, I think you’ll enjoy this one. It’s got everything you could possibly expect from heroic fantasy, and more.

Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold

Cordelia Naismith never thought she would find the love of her life on a scientific survey to an unexplored border world, let alone that he would be a Barrayan, one of the enemy. But Aral Vorkosigan is not just any other officer in the Barrayan Military. He is courteous, fair-minded, thoughtful–and above all else, driven by an innate sense of honor. To her surprise, Cordelia soon finds that she has more in common with the man than she thought possible.

But the rumors of war between Escobar, Beta Colony, and Barrayar soon conspire to drive them apart. Though Cordelia sees Vorkosigan for the good man he is, the rest of the galaxy only knows him as the “Butcher of Komarr”–an unfortunate title which Vorkosigan does not entirely deserve.

As Barrayar goes to war and Cordelia finds herself rising through the ranks of the Betan Military, she is forced to choose between loyalty to her country and loyalty to the man she loves. When the two are mutually exclusive, how does one preserve one’s honor while securing a degree of happiness?

I loved this book. Unlike some romances, where the male protagonist is a complete douchbag, Aral Vorkosigan is the kind of guy I’d like to be like. Bujold strikes an excellent balance between strong and sensitive that enhances, rather than taints, his manliness. Besides that, Vorkosigan is extremely fascinating, with a complicated backstory and motivations that are both believable and interesting.

Though it’s technically a romance, the book reads very much like military science fiction, with deliciously tongue-in-cheek phrases like “the cadet was too young to believe in death after life” and rigorous attention to the details of military life, such as rank and chain of command. The book definitely has enough explosions, space battles, and political intrigue to appeal to boys as well as the romance audience, but Bujold melds the space adventure elements seamlessly with the romantic elements, so that readers of either genre don’t feel left out or patronized.

There was only one thing that bothered me, and since it contains spoilers I’ll put it in black so that you don’t inadvertently see it. To read it, highlight the text:

After Cordelia ran away from home and married Vorkosigan, why did she never think about her homeland again? You would think that as a career military officer who had dedicated her life to her country, she would at least have some lingering doubts that she’d done the right thing by running away–especially when her husband became the new Lord Regent of Barrayar! To me, this seems in-congruent with her character.

All things considered, though, this was an excellent, well-written science fiction adventure/romance. I thoroughly enjoyed it and will definitely be reading more of Lois McMaster Bujold’s work again.