Joe Abercrombie’s detractors say his books are violent, cynical and often bereft of clear heroism. Funny thing, that. His fans say the same thing. I guess it depends on what you’re in the mood for. Want blood and guts and rage? Give Abercrombie a try. Hankering for a return to Xanth? Look elsewhere, my friend. Best Served Cold (Orbit) is, as you can tell from the title, a book about revenge. It makes George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire look like Sweet Valley High.
A few months ago I wrote about The First Law trilogy. You can read it here (be warned, there are a lot of spoilers and bad words). Then read Abercrombie’s highly entertaining rebuttal here (for that matter, read his whole website. Very funny guy).
Honestly, I’m glad his response was so pointed. I can’t respect “Gosh, let’s agree to disagree” as much as I can a good, heart-felt, “Well, fuck you, then!” But I digress.
The story takes place a little while after the events of The First Law. While some of the protagonists (if that isn’t too sunny a word) are common to both stories, it’s primarily a separate plot from the other books and focuses on fewer point of view characters. Also, magic, which plays such a significant part in The First Law, is notably absent for much of the story, placing the emphasis primarily on gory, painful revenge and various things that go squelch. Because of the narrower scope, the pace is quicker than before, which means it’s gone from the reader feeling like they got jumped in an alley to feeling like they got shivved fifteen times on the way to the prison cafeteria. In an entertaining way.
Monzcarro Murcatto and her brother Benna are leaders of a mercenary army. Betrayed by their employer, Grand Duke Orso, Benna is murdered and Monza barely survives stabbing, mutilating, garroting and a brutal fall. I’ve never before read an author so willing to chuck his characters from high places. He just defenestrates the shit out of people. I admire that; no author should be too sweet on their characters, after all, or you end up with, say, an Anne Rice book.
Monza is nursed, sort of, back to health, sort of, by a mysterious hermit. Allow me to make up a word and say instead she was Frankensteined back to working order. That’s closer to it. After that, she begins a very thorough course of vengeance against all who had betrayed, stabbed, mutilated, garroted and hurled her. The planning and execution of revenge is the majority of the plot. If that had been all there was to the book, it would have been a pretty flat read. But what we get is a thrilling, funny, vicious and exhilarating story, because above all, he writes great characters. That is, as always, the strongest part of his storytelling. I truly marvel at his skill in generating concern for the wellbeing and success of people who are more or less degenerate bastards.
Monza collects a fascinating crew: a self-congratulatory poisoner and his assistant, a numerically obsessed ex-con who fights with a cleaver, a former torturer and two other notable fellows. First, a massive Northman named Caul Shivers, who played a small but important part in The First Law, and mercenary genius turned drunken has-been and figurative cockroach, Nicomo Cosca.
They make an interesting trio, Cosca, Shivers and Monza. Cosca had been betrayed years before by Monza when she was an officer in his company. Monza had been betrayed by her officers. Shivers once sought revenge for the death of his brother, but tried to put that behind him. He’s hired by Monza, avenging her brother’s death. Everyone’s been screwed over by someone. Do you seek revenge, peace, or the bottle? Does it matter what you choose? 
The hardly-love-not-quite-hate relationship that develops between Shivers and Monza is so strongly reminiscent of Logen Ninefingers and Ferro that I wonder if Abercrombie didn’t originally conceive this story for them, but opt in the end for a couple less well known characters to fling off of high things. Whatever the case, I’m glad he went with Shivers. He is, in some ways, a more engaging character than Monza. He sincerely tries to maintain hope and compassion; Monza thinks compassion makes you soft. She says, repeatedly, that mercy is weakness. That’s one of the main themes of the book, or at least, of her story. Shivers’ struggle against rage and violence comes from his understanding that the opposite side of the equation—cruelty is strength—doesn’t hold true.
Given that, in the author’s view, I completely and utterly misunderstood the ending of The First Law, I’m almost hesitant to make any statements about the ending of Best Served Cold. I mean, if I get it wrong, I might find my coffee poisoned. Or he might just very well fly out to Los Angeles kick me in the fruits. I’ll take that risk, though, because I am large and frightening. And besides, I thought the ending was solid and satisfying, and holds promise of much more to come.
When Jason Henninger isn’t reading, writing, juggling, cooking or raising evil genii, he works for Living Buddhism magazine in Santa Monica, CA.
It seems to me (and Joe can kick me in the fruits if this is too presumptuous) that Best Served Cold does to Dumas what the First Law books do to Tolkien. I.e., take the action-adventure revenge plot perfected in Count of Monte Cristo and demonstrate the poisonous effects of vengeance. (It’s not that Dumas is unaware of this: Dantes does question his actions, but ultimately he decides his cause is just and appears to ride off into the sunset to be with Haydee.)
Monza may think that compassion is soft, yet she can be unexpectedly compassionate and sometimes demonstrate an odd sense of honor. In the end, she turns out to be somewhat less brutal and vicious than she presents herself as… and of course it is the reverse with Shivers.
@1 Doesn’t seem too presumptuous to me, at least. I think there are definite Monte Cristo overtones to the story.
@2
I agree. And that’s one of the reasons that she and Shivers have a more interesting dynamic than Ninefingers and Ferro. Ninefingers is multidimentional, but Ferro is pretty much a straight line, you know? So her interactions with Ninefingers are limited, too. But Monza and Shivers have interesting reversals, as you mentioned.
Ferro’s one-dimensionality is explained and understandable, and I think that’s an interesting dynamic too, the inability of the two of them to understand each other as to that.
Ferro is not quite all human, and I think it’s interesting that in many respects being part-demon makes her LESS, not more. Too often a fantasy story makes being a half-breed better than human, regardless of the fantastic racism in the story.
Also, she had nothing but torment and slavery in her upbringing, and once again Abercrombie turns the fantasy cliche on its head and shows that, all too often, oppression doesn’t make someone a better person. It makes them a more focussed, determined person, but a narrower one, a more limited one, a lesser-than-whole human being.
Yes, Monza is a truly multi-dimensional character IMHO. I know that some consider her “bland”, but IMHO she is just more subtly written than Cosca or Shivers, who seem to be more of fan favorites. Her visit to the mercenary camp was a brilliant insight into psychology of command and leadership, for instance. And the slow revelation of Benna’s character through her was awesome.
I beg your pardon but there is a heck of a lot of fiction between Best Served Cold and Xanth. Saying otherwise rather insults both readers and authors.
As for Best Served Cold, I found it rather bland. I wanted fully drawn characters and in spite of the protestations of fans, I didn’t find them.
I found Ferro narrowly drawn and frankly couldn’t the longer I read the less I cared what she did or didn’t do or what happened to her.
Now that could be all right. GRR Martin puts in plenty of characters who fans would love to see killed, for example. The problem is that Abercrombie fails to put in a single character who I do care about.
@6
I’m not saying there’s nothing in between. I’m just saying if you want the lighter fantasy, probably shouldn’t read Abercrombie. Of course there’s a million shades in between the grim fantasies and the lighter or more comical fantasies.
Despite the noticeable eyesore and sleep loss the book has cost me in the past two days, I feel obligated to come to Monza (and Joe’s too, I guess) defense in regards to her character. Monza is, as Cosca observed, a lot more compassionate than she tries and wants to be. Given that much of what we know of her characters come from Monza’s limited first person narrative, initially we are led to believe that Monza really is a cold hearted bastard, but as we read on there are relatively subtle instances which hint that Monza isn’t as hard as she likes to tell herself in her head.