At Star Wars Celebration III, before the release of Revenge of the Sith, I walked up to Matthew Stover’s table dressed as Mara Jade, and asked him to sign the Episode III novelization he had written. As he opened the book, I said to him, “I’m planning to wait until after the film is out to read the whole book, but I read the sample chapter they put online and… you made me cry.”
Matthew Stover stopped signing and looked up at me with a smile. Then he took my hand and thanked me. I still have my signed copy of the book.
When I have friends and acquaintances tell me that Episode III really didn’t deliver for them, my auto-response has always been “Read the novel.” And people usually laugh at me. I understand the impulse; novelizations of films are generally not thought of in artistic terms whatsoever, and often the person writing them has very little control over the work they’re producing. They have to use the script they’re given and any outside information from the creators to make something that mimics a film. If you’re lucky, you get some extra background, a window into the character’s heads. If you’re not lucky, you end up with a movie script punctuated by blocky narrative.
It had been ten years since I’d read the Revenge of the Sith novelization, and I admit to being nervous with this reread—should I still be telling people to “read the novel” if they don’t like the film? Would the book have the same hold on me that it did a decade ago? I opened my copy on the subway for my evening commute…
…and was blinking tears out of my eyes five minutes later.
The title above was not meant as clickbait. I am completely serious; you could read this book and forgo the entire prequel trilogy. Sure, you’d miss the beautiful design work, the costumes, the score, but in terms of a satisfying story, the novelization of Revenge of the Sith is superior in every way. It is a perfect self-encompassing tale that emotionally invests you in its tragedy with every step it takes. Every vague explanation, hand-waved plot device, and oversimplified exchange in the movie is leveled in favor of a true epic—the kind that Star Wars in naturally positioned to take on.
What’s more, it’s just a great novel. Full stop. With or without Star Wars in the title. It’s snappy and well-paced and smart. The dialogue is funny, the characters are fully realized and engaging, the prose is frequently beautiful. Star Wars books can be all of those things, but they are often not. And sometimes they forget that they are books rather than films, which is a mistake that Stover never makes. This is a novel, with all the strengths that a novel can have over a film.
To that affect, there are devices Stover uses in his text that play out in jaw-dropping fashion, two in particular. The first is a conversation via the omniscient narrator of the play between dark and light, as ephemeral concepts, as philosophy, as components of good and evil. What’s fascinating is how these meanderings make it clear precisely what about Palpatine’s views are tempting, how easily one could be swayed over to his way of thinking with the right arguments applied. Darkness seems inevitable, unstoppable, the natural reaction to everything good that light struggles to create. But by the very end, he turns those arguments on their head with a few simple turns of phrase, setting the stage for the next generation’s adventures and the resurgence of light.
The second device Stover uses is in service of the characters; when introducing each main character, he begins with a section that goes, “This is [Anakin Skywalker/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Count Dooku].” Then he proceeds to give you an account of that person, a manner of introduction that would seem clunky or awkward in less capable hands, but which works here to give the reader a deeper understanding of that person’s place in this terrible saga. Before each major event, he leads with a section to the nature of, “This is how it feels to be [Yoda/Mace Windu/General Grievous] right now.” Another fascinating window into each character’s mind at the point where they commit a great act or make their gravest mistake. At the end of the novel, Stover turns this format on its head—as Lord Vader’s helmet is fit into place, he explains to you “what it feels like to be Anakin Skywalker… forever.” It’s chilling. By which I mean you will feel actual chills running the length of your body.
It’s not just that the novel fleshes out the motivations of each character in a useful way; it’s that the motivations given are better conceived that any legwork done by previous novels or the films. For example, it’s explained that Dooku shares Palpatine’s xenophobia, and that’s the reason why the majority of the leaders in the Separatist movement are non-humans—so that they will be blamed and the Empire will have more reason to push its all-human agenda. It explains also how Anakin wound up bound to R2-D2 and Padmé to C-3PO; they gave them to each other as wedding gifts, Anakin first thinking of it because he had nothing else to offer his wife. Since he was aware that he’d programmed Threepio with a bit too much personality for a droid, and the Naboo don’t think of droids as servants or property, they made the exchange with the stipulation that their spouse act as a friend to their new companion. It handily explains Anakin’s rapport with and devotion to Artoo, which builds dramatically at some point between Episodes II and III when the audience can’t be around to appreciate it.
Additionally, whenever Artoo is talking to Threepio, we are told what he’s saying. It’s extremely effective—and heartbreaking—at the point in the story where Anakin begins to turn, because Artoo is better positioned than anyone to notice the sudden change in him, and voices those concerns to his golden friend.
There are fun little asides for diehard fans as well; for instance, Lorth Needa (of the infamous “Apology accepted, Captain Needa” fame) shows up as a Republic commander who threatens to blow up General Grievous’ ship over Coruscant. On another high note, Grievous is far more intimidating here; a monstrous, unfeeling mass of circuits that lays waste to everything in his path.
Stover had written a book that centered on Mace Windu prior to the Episode III novelization, and that book laid some incredible groundwork to describe how Windu experiences the Force differently from other Jedi. His particular expertise deals with something Stover refers to as shatterpoints; Mace Windu looks into the Force and sees the future laid over the galaxy like fault lines, points of causality that run between people and eventually explode at their breaking point. This explains his failure to anticipate what occurs during Palpatine’s attempted arrest better than anything the film comes close to suggesting—that Windu makes the mistake of focusing on discovering the Chancellor’s shatterpoint (Anakin), while failing to recognize the importance of Anakin’s shatterpoint (the desire to save his wife). Which is mostly important because Mace’s death in the film seems far too convenient; he’s one of the best Jedi in the galaxy, he shouldn’t seem so easily discarded.
Anakin’s fall to the dark side is no longer an abstract, distant idea that rapidly comes into being due to a bad dream, but something we are helped to understand through past and present events. His difficulty with loss crystallizes years beforehand in a moment where he encounters a dead star—something that he hadn’t known was possible in the universe. The inevitability of death becomes the thing that snaps at Anakin’s heels, the thought that occupies him through every terrible battle, which ties into his natural empathy with the dark side… because the Sith teach that the Force is something that the user bends to their will, not the other way around. Anakin is using the Force in exactly that way every time he refuses to accept an outcome that does not result in the survival of loved ones. To that end, his crash landing of the Grievous’ ship on Coruscant has much higher stakes; what Anakin pulls off is scientifically impossible, but he makes it possible for the sake of Obi-Wan and Palpatine. It is something of a miracle, but proves that his downward spiral has already begun. Same with the execution of Dooku; Anakin’s guilt over the murder is clear and painful, but Palpatine works as always to enable Anakin to do what he truly wants no matter the cost.
Palpatine’s guiding hand where Anakin is concerned is much more carefully depicted, the depths of his manipulation masterful and devious. Stover constantly refers to him as “the shadow,” a description that gets more and more ominous with every page turn. What’s worse is knowing that the Jedi were far closer to catching him than the film leads us to believe; they simply didn’t trust their resources (the lack of trust in Anakin is the crux here, something that the Chosen One himself perceives, leading to his withdrawal from the Jedi faster than ever), a primary effect of the war on a tired and thinned out Order.
Padmé’s role as founder of the Rebel Alliance is back in play here, and her difficulty in watching the Republic she loves get ripped to pieces makes the political side of this tale wrenching in a way it fails to be in the movie. Her relationship with Anakin is in many ways more frightening; the love that they feel seems more like a mandate of the universe than a choice. She is aware of all the parts of her husband that are angry and damaged and unsettling, yet she loves him anyway, and it makes their story more tragic. It’s a collision course that the galaxy has set in front of them, both too addled by war and pain and the haze created by the dark side to fully comprehend how wrong their lives will go.
The final showdown between Yoda and Palpatine is devastating because we understand precisely what Yoda is losing when he fails. This isn’t just a big boss fight—Yoda has trained for hundreds of years to be prepared for exactly this. To be the greatest Jedi Master the galaxy has ever seen, precisely so he can defeat evil when it rears his head. And he is forced to come to terms with the fact that those centuries of work, of meditation, or service, amount to nothing. In the end, he doesn’t have what it takes. It sets the tone for the story’s close, the punishment that Yoda levies on himself for his inability to do the duty that fell to him.
The friendship and brotherhood between Obi-Wan and Anakin runs deep through every page of this book, on both sides of the relationship. Their banter is loving, their partnership the stuff of legend. Obi-Wan shows severe discomfort once the Jedi Council starts asking him to keep secrets from his former Padawan (so he can more carefully observe Anakin’s relationship with the Chancellor). Anakin’s growing mistrust of Obi-Wan as Palpatine gets further into his head is devastating because we can see how much it hurts him. Kenobi and Skywalker are billed as two halves of a whole, and the wedge driven between them by both Sith and Jedi is wholly responsible for destruction of their era.
Or as Stover puts it at the very start of the novel—the end of an Age of Heroes:
[…] they know what they’re watching, live on the HoloNet, is the death of the Republic.
Many among these beings break into tears; many more reach out to comfort their husbands or wives, their crechè-mates or kin-triads, and their younglings of all descriptions, from children to cubs to spawn-fry.
But here is a strange thing: few of the younglings need comfort. It is instead the younglings who offer comfort to their elders. Across the Republic—in words or pheromones, in magnetic pulses, tentacle-braids, or mental telepathy—the message from the younglings is the same: Don’t worry. It’ll be alright.
Anakin and Obi-Wan will be there any minute.
Oh god, how could you do that to me?!! (That might be the point where I started sniffling on the subway.) This is everything that the movies were meant to communicate and never got across, this exactly. And it doesn’t hurt that Stover actually considers the impact of the Clone Wars on the galaxy at large, the reaction of its denizens and the public opinion that gets formed around the people who are fighting it. Children are growing up listening to the exploits of these magical knights, believe in these heroes, yet their parents are far more reticent, knowing that legends rarely bare out under the light of day:
And so it is that these adults across the galaxy watch the HoloNet with ashes where their hearts should be.
Ashes because they can’t see two prismatic bursts of realspace reversion, far out beyond the planet’s gravity well; because they can’t see a pair of starfighters crisply jettison hyperdrive rings and streak into the storm of Separatist vulture fighters with all guns blazing.
A pair of starfighters. Jedi starfighters. Only two.
Two is enough.
Two is enough because the adults are wrong, and their younglings are right.
Though this is the end of the age of heroes, it has saved its best for last.
LEAVE ME ALONE, EVERYTHING HURTS FOREVER.
The creation of Vader is given the true reverence it deserves by the end. There is never a suggestion that Anakin cannot see past Palpatine’s lies; he does not know the truth about Padmé or his children, but he also does not believe for one second that the Emperor is a friend. Rather, Vader’s existence is one of resignation, body abused and barely alive, run by machines and barely capable of interacting with the world on a human level. His ability to access the Force is greatly diminished and though he wants to destroy Palpatine, he finds that this man is all he has left in the universe.
The tragedy of Anakin Skywalker finally takes on the dimension it should have had all along.
So there you have it. If you haven’t already, go out and grab a copy of this book. Doesn’t matter if the novelizations are now part of the Legends canon or not. This was the story that we deserved. And it will always hold a special place in my Force-happy heart.
Emmet Asher-Perrin honestly sobs her ways through a hefty portion of this book because she just has a lot of feelings about Jedi friendships, okay? You can bug her on Twitter and Tumblr, and read more of her work here and elsewhere.
Thank you for this. I agree with you wholeheartedly. Now I need to reread the book.
Oh man, I seriously have a lump in my throat right now, I’m too messed up to even comment appropriately.
Anyway, yes. I remember being so blown away by this book. Really feeling the tragedy of a good person becoming bad. This is also the one with the imagery of the snake in Anakin’s heart, right?
Oh man, I forgot that Stover wrote Shatterpoint too. That was also a great book.
This is definitely reaffirming my belief that I need to seek out his other books.
YES. Stover is simply the best writer among the many EU authors. I recently did a top 10 EU books post on my blog, and I had Stover twice in the top 5. You’re just spot on by saying that this novelization does everything the prequel trilogy should and could have.
As far as the narrative devices go, I fully agree with the second. His omniscient narrator is perfect for this, and he uses it to great effect in Traitor (which, IMO, is the single best EU book out there) during Ganner Rhysode’s stand. The whole sequence is great, but it’s the last line which really hits home:
Stover is just an excellent writer. I recently picked up Heroes Die, which I’ve heard is an SF classic. I’m excited to read some of his original stuff.
Emily, you had me until the part where we understand what R2 says. No, not for me, thank you. Still, a great article on the novel.
One part, though (not yours, but your description of Stover’s novel) makes me frown: “Children are growing up listening to the exploits of these magical knights, believe in these heroes”. Yet less than two decades later, most of those children don’t even believe in Jedi or the Force.
Yes, the amazingly quick burying of the Jedi legend by Palpatine is something that doesn’t quite jive between what we see in the OT and what the Prequels show (Jedi are everywhere during the Clone wars) and that’s George’s fault, but Stover (and, to be fair, the writers of other prequel era fiction) should have relied less on Holonet broadcasts across the galaxy, like this is the second Gulf War and they can watch it live on CNN.
I’m sorry, I can’t agree. I could never get into the novelization. The way Stover describes the duels are at odds with how they play out in the movies–and I like the movie versions better, not only are they canon, but they play out better visually. And he describes Anakin and Obi-wan as the “go-to” guys of the Jedi. <ugh> Maybe it was a better novelization than the other two prequels, but it’s certainly not the best Star Wars novel out there. This is one case where I enjoyed the movie more.
You forgot to mention the most important thing in the novel. It explains exactly how Obi-Wan could say to Vader, “If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can ever imagine,” and why none of the Jedi disappeared in the prequels, and why Obi-Wan and Yoda removed themselves from society. Not to mention explaining all of the setting up of Qui-Gon in the first movie (or more appropriately book). When I watched the movie (after I read the book), I couldn’t believe they left the encounter Yoda has with Qui-Gon out!
Yes, hands down the best piece of “literature” in Star Wars. Just reading your excerpt from the Age Of Heroes left me sobbing. The “Dark” interludes are beautiful as well. I haven’t reread a SW book since grade school (when I read Han Solo At Stars’ End numerous times) but I’m going to get to this one again very soon. (It’s already been too long.)
Coincidentally, if anyone wants to check out Stover’s original fiction, the Kindle edition of his first Caine novel, Heroes Die, just went on sale at Amazon for $1.99. (I already own two dead tree copies, but I couldn’t pass this up.)
The Revenge of the Sith novelization is glorious–right up until Vader starts doing stand-up comedy during the slaying of the Separatist leaders on Mustafar. Here Stover sets a record for the amount of accumulated good will frittered away in less than a page. That’s this reader’s opinion, anyway.
That opening section talking about the end of the age of heroes destroys me every time I read it, too. Up to and including just now when I’m sitting at work hoping nobody looks too closely at me for the next couple minutes.
There’s so much great stuff in the novel that it wouldn’t be possible for the review up there to cover it all. My favorite of the things that didn’t get mentioned: the way Obi-Wan is written and how his relationship with the Force is described. His complete attunement to the Force’s currents and the way it lets him defeat Grievous even though it’s literally not possible for him to respond quickly enough to mechanical attacks is such a good concept and it’s conveyed so beautifully that it kind of chokes me up too.
OK, I need to read this. Only… if an article about a book can make me cry, what is the book going to do with me?
It explains also how Anakin wound up bound to R2-D2 and Padmé to C-3PO; they gave them to each other as wedding gifts,
I’ve never read this book, yet I knew this. It just seemed self explanatory, with them standing there at the wedding and all.
@10: Glad I’m not the only one. About halfway through reading the article, I knew I’d have to buy my daughter this for Christmas as she’s a big Star Wars fan (and absolutely LOVES Vader). About a paragraph later I realized I’d have to read it too!
Thanks Emily for helping me with my Christmas shopping! :)
And I don’t know, yes it was “tell” rather than “show” but the things you’re saying the novel improves on, are not the things that bother me in the movie.
Though this is the end of the age of heroes, it has saved its best for last.
A decade later, and I still remember exactly where I was, and exactly what I was doing when I read this line. And it hammered the whole thing home.
What Stover wrote was a masterpiece. I can’t even put in enough superlatives to describe it. He was writing with one hand behind his back, constrained by someone else’s story, someone else’s ideas, someone else’s characters, someone else’s revisions, someone else’s editing… and he did it. He wrote a book that hands down can stand with any other award decorated novel in the field, that ranks highly even outside of its field.
How they let him get away, and didn’t sign another contract with him I’ll never know. Because he created a thing of beauty.
Everyone should read it.
A thousand times yes!
The opening chapter of this novelization is easily my favorite piece of Star Wars prose ever written. Period. I’ve read it dozens of times, and it crushes me. Every. Single. Time.
Do I have issues with some of the liberties that Stover took in the book? Yes. The previous commenter who mentioned the one-liners while Vader is murdering the Separatist leader is right-on there. But it’s more than made up for by Stover’s excellent portrayal of Anakin’s fall, his friendship with Obi-Wan, his relationship with Padme, Padme’s struggle over her love for Anakin and her duty to the Republic, and yes… Artoo’s concern for Anakin (and his inability to understand on Mustafar). And the literary devices that you discuss (“This is Anakin Skywalker”)… glorious.
@14: “How they let him get away, and didn’t sign another contract with him I’ll never know. Because he created a thing of beauty.”
They did get him back, though: he went on to write Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor, a great standalone pulp adventure that continues some plotlines from Shatterpoint and expands on some themes from RotS. I have no interest in the new-canon SW novels, but if they can bring Stover in again, I’ll be all over it like [insert favorite simile here.]
By the way, regarding the differences between film and novel, Stover had this to say:
@8, 15 – okay, while I know it probably would not have gone over well in the movie at all and would completely ruin the gravitas of that scene, I still kind of get a kick at Vader replying “I think there was an error in transmission. He promised you would be left in pieces” when Nute Gunray protests Sidious said he would be left in peace.
@16 Yeah, I know they got Shadows of Mindor, but that was the last of his contract. After that, despite him having high sales figures and being very well received critically, they didn’t sign him for more.
I figure it has to have been internal politics, because there’s no business sense in walking away from working with someone like him.
Now I’m going to have to dig through totes in the basement and find this in one of them, dang it.
I’m not sure about getting to understand R2, but I can well imagine that Grevious would work better in print where he is shorn of that grating comedy accent.
Quoth hurlepat: “The way Stover describes the duels are at odds with how they play out in the movies.”
Speaking as a veteran movie novelizer, this was probably not really Matt’s fault. Action scenes are almost never described in detail in screenplays, and often when they are, the script is superseded by what the fight choreographers and other folks come up with during filming. All of which is done long after the novelist had turned in the manuscript.
—Keith R.A. DeCandido
@18: If I recall, Stover had issues delivering Mindor on time (it saw at least one delay, if not more) and that may have soured LFL on working with him. Though there was a rumor that he was working on Imperial Commando 2 before the Disney takeover. (I suppose we’ll never hear if that was actually happening, now.)
dwarel@8:
Those lines were in the script. Stover was working off of a relatively late draft of the script and an early cut of the film. I think those lines may even have been shot, if I remember correctly, and edited later. But that book would have gone to the presses months before the final edit of the movie was finished.
@22 looking, he hasn’t published since 2012, and hasn’t posted anything to any of his blogs/social media/website in a little over a year. So maybe he is out of the writing game? And who knows why that is and if why that is is the same as why he doesn’t do LFL anymore.
That said LFL was notoriously political for who got kept and who got gone (when your base IP means everything is a NYT bestseller automatically you can set skill by the wayside and favor other qualities). I’d expect it is involved in that somehow.
Wow. I eagerly went to see Episode I. And was extremely disappointed.
So I reluctantly went to see Episode II, and cringed.
And thus, I never got to see Episode III. I just couldn’t do it. And now you’re telling me I don’t have to!!! Thank you, Emily.
You are so right. I read the book first, and I actually applauded at the end. I feel that the book helped me appreciate the movie better as well. I always listened to the soundtracks and read the books first, but for Episode VII, they’re not releasing those things early. I’ll just have to have faith in J.J.
I will have to read this book again. I actually remember some of the things you point out, while others I’d forgotten. And while I remember thinking the book was good, I seem to recall that it didn’t totally blow me away. Not in the way something like Ender’s Game did. I don’t know how much of that was because I was already familiar with the movie, so the story itself wasn’t new. But while I probably thought the writing was good, I don’t think the style necessarily gripped me the way that say, J.K. Rowling’s does/did.
One thing that I thought was really good about it in the way of explanations was that Anakin thought there was a way to save Padme on one of the holocrons only accessible by Masters, which places why he was so pissed at not being made a Master in a whole new light. Another thing that stuck out to me was the little paragraph explaining that Palpatine was specifically using the General Grievous incident to get Obi-Wan out of the way.
Hmph. Sounds good for them as likes that Jedi stuff, but if it doesn’t heavily involve Tatooine and lots of aquatic creatures, I wouldn’t forego The Phantom Menace for it. That said, I watched very little of Revenge of the Sith, and the book definitely sounds better than my limited impression of the film.
@28: Based on some of your prior comments about loving aquatic things, I get where you would like the aquatic stuff from TPM and Kamino in AOTC. But Tatooine seems to be the exact OPPOSITE of aquatic. Are you just throwing that in there because you like Tatooine too?
This is still one of my all time favourite Star Wars novels. Even more so when it is paired up with Labyrinth of Evil by James Luceno. Those two novels, which I read around the time I saw Revenge of the Sith (it was the first Star Wars film I saw in theatres), defined the end of the prequels for me in ways I can’t even begin to describe. Only the later portions of the Clone Wars series, the ones which dropped the extreme focus on Ahsoka and shifted more over to Anakin and Obi-wan, hold the same position (and make me disappointed that, at the very least, Labyrinth of Evil is not canon).
Great write up on the novel, it’s one I couldn’t agree with more. It does so much for the series and it is still a great read years later.
@29: I enjoy the exceptional array of beasts and beings (native and otherwise) which call Tatooine home, and have read the Tales from Jabba’s Palace anthology half a zillion times. But I would much prefer to live somewhere else.
You have convinced me, Emily! I’ve been hearing for ten years how good this novelization is, but I’ve never once really been tempted to pick it up. Now, I can hardly wait.
Memories of what should have been…
Emily’s review is spot on. While TESB is my favorite movie, I have read every novel, YA novel, and comic book written for the EU, and this is my absolute favorite Star Wars story (Stover’s novel Traitor is right up there too). I also HIGHLY recommend the unabridged audiobook. Jonathan Davis’s performance is incredible, his voice work resonates the depth of the characters in a way many of the screen actors failed to, and you will never see RotS the same way again. Everyone needs to experience the story this way. It’s truly epic.
I took Emily’s advice and bought this last week. It’s as good as advertised. After letting it all percolate for a bit and thinking about how it all fits with the OT, there is a question that arises regarding Vader and the Force. At the end of the novel (SPOILER ALERT – although I think it’s mentioned above) it’s stated that after he’s rescued from the lava, Vader has lost most of his connection to the Force. I’m guessing this is because he’s more machine than man now? Sounds reasonable. But then how do we explain the fight between Vader and Obi-Wan on the Death Star? Since Obi-Wan presumably hasn’t lost his connection to the Force, shouldn’t he have cleaned Vader’s clock? He defeated Grevious, who seemed much more challenging of a cyborg. Now he’s spent the last 20 years meditating and getting advanced Force lessons from Qui-Gon and Yoda, right? So he just gives up to become “one with the Force”? And how is that more powerful? Do we ever see him or Yoda or Qui-Gon actually DO anything besides talk once they leave the corporeal bodies behind? Not that talking isn’t powerful, but it’s hardly unimaginable.
I always thought (even without the RotS novelization) that it was fairly obvious Obi-Wan was purposefully sacrificing himself. Although in light of the prequels you could say it’s because he now knows what Yoda/Qui-Gon have been able to teach regarding living on after death. Maybe talking isn’t all that powerful, but he does guide Luke at important junctures so it could be he has a flash of insight and knows it’s Luke that needs to go on.
I just had a double trilogy marathon this weekend, and I’ve been thinking about those theories that say Yoda and Obi-Wan are less than benign and wise, and I think they have some root. They want Luke, a Skywalker, to finish the former Anakin Skywalker, instead of doing it themselves, without realizing that Luke killing Vader will only give the Emperor what he wants, a younger, stronger apprentice.
The blindness and hubris of the old Jedi Order is present in Yoda and Obi-Wan’s plans, to the point of not wanting to let him rescue his friends in Cloud City because they don’t want his attachments to ruin their plans… yet they were the ones that left him and his sister with loving families that raised them with attachments. For them to expect Luke to just let go of his ties to his friends (particularly when they were potentially sacrificing their backup plan, Leia), was monumentally stupid.
It’s been a while, I shall have to reread the novel. But it does contain some of the best passages about the Dark and the Light, not mention solidifying my hero worship of Obi-wan. “Not just a master. . . THE master. . .”
@35 Regarding Vader’s power: It was severely curtailed by his amputations. But it is a testament to how powerful he could have been that he was still powerful as he was, though crippled and dependent on his life support suit.
And in defense of Vader’s comedy routine on Mustafar, Anakin was shown to be flippant (if a bit cheesy) in dire circumstances, and I see no reason why this would have changed after his fall to the Dark Side. This was the guy that later “accepted” Needa’s apology even has the captain lay dead at his feet from a Force strangulation.
Read this over the weekend thanks to this write up and it was even better than advertised – so much more than regular novelizations. Wow. @9: “My favorite of the things that didn’t get mentioned: the way Obi-Wan is written and how his relationship with the Force is described.” – yes, this. I *loved* how Obi-Wan was described as one of the best of the Jedi, and in the Grievous scene in particular the book added so much more to an already fairly enjoyable scene from the movie – doing more to explain his calm and even seeming cockiness by showing how he was full of the Force. @38: Completely agree on the book solidifying the hero worship of Obi-Wan :)
I also really appreciated the depth added to the strain between Padme and Anakin throughout. Unfortunately those were frequently the weakest scenes in the movie, but were much more believable here. And I really liked how Padme’s knowledge of what was right – and uneasiness with Anakin – played out in the meeting with Bail when she said she wanted to talk to at least one Jedi they could trust – and she realized she didn’t mean Anakin. Even if that deleted scene had stayed in the movie, I think it wouldn’t have been obvious that she didn’t mean Anakin, but it made perfect sense in the writing.
You’ve sold me.
I read the Vonda N. McIntyre novelization of Wrath of Khan years before I saw the film. It’s one of my favourite films, but the book takes it to another level. It happens.
“I am completely serious; you could read this book and forgo the entire prequel trilogy.”
Oh, NOW you tell us! Where were you 16 years ago?
PallonianFire, #3: You’re not wrong about Stover. Ganner Rhysode’s Last Stand is one of my favorite moments in the entire EU, especially in the Yuuzhan Vong war, which I liked (heresy in some corners of the fandom, I know).
I also wanted to let you know: Heroes Die is amazing, but the rest of the books in the series blow it out of the water. Especially book 2, Blade of Tyshalle.
As I’m feeling my way back into the Star Wars fandom, which I admit got a heavy blow from the second trilogy and far too much sub-par novels both classic and clone war era, I’m going to put my trust in you and give this one a try – after all there is not much to lose is there, if all fails it still can’t be any worse than the movie.
@40/Gavin – Right with you re: McIntyre and TWOK. I remember really identifying with Peter Preston and his crush on Saavik, having had my fair share of crushes by that point.
McIntyre outdoes herself on her rendering of ST III, too. It’s epic and fills in so much backstory that is missing (although you never quite notice it at the time). Her ST IV novel is more conventional, as I recall, although she does, to her credit, refuse to let go of the Carol Marcus story thread.
I see some others have mentioned Stover’s Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor. I would support reading it as a companion to the Revenge of the Sith novelization because, while Mindor stands well enough on its own, it actually works really great as a parallel to the novelization. Luke’s strengths and weaknesses are studied in a way that actually mirrors the same process that Stover used on Anakin, and the novel subtly points out many situations where Anakin would have failed, but where Luke succeeds thanks to his different personality.
The first study in contrasts is in the novel’s very own narrative device: people consider Luke to be a great hero, but he considers himself a monster due to all the deaths he’s caused in battle, so he hires a biographer to tell his side of the story to the public. Anakin would have never done that, much less on his own.
#35:
But Obi-Wan’s powers have also diminished, or at least his skill as a lightsaber duelist. Vader comments as much – “Your powers are weak, old man” – and Obi-Wan doesn’t dispute it. Rather, he points out that lightsaber dueling isn’t all that important.
Vader would have won the duel on Mustafar if they fought on skill alone, but his immaturity got in the way. 20-ish years on, that’s no longer a problem.
I agree that Obi-Wan sacrifices himself at the end of the fight, but I think he only does that because he knows he can’t win the fight.
#46 I don’t think his skills have eroded in the least. In the penultimate episode of season 3 of Star Wars Rebels, Kenobi is able to easily defeat Darth Maul in a duel out of classic samurai films.
No, for whatever reason you choose to believe, he intended to sacrifice himself and letting Vader believe he was old and unable was part of this.
@45 and others – I just want to chime in and say that Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor is fantastic, and in my opinion, the best characterization of Luke Skywalker to date.
I was actually a bit leery of reading it – I LOVED Stover’s Ep 3 novelization, as well as the books Shatterpoint and Traitor. But one can’t deny that all 3 of those books are dark, and with characters on the brink of madness. As a die hard Luke fan, I was a little worried about what Stover would do once he got hands on Luke Skywalker, especially in light of how the sequel movies seem to be treating his arc (I came across a link to an article with the title “Why Does Star Wars Want Us To Hate Luke Skywalker” and I couldn’t help but laugh).
But really – it was great. I have a lot of emotional investment in the character, probably more than any sane person should, but I felt this book captured the most what drew me to his character. I find that a lot of the old EU would make Luke rather bland in an attempt to make him a serious Jedi Master. But I think Stover got both sides of his character. He showed warmth, kindness, humor, remembered that, oh yeah, Luke was a hot shot pilot in his day (there’s a really great moment where he basically pulls a move with a crashing starship that’s a great parallel of his father’s deeds in the beginning of Revenge of the Sith) and even cracked a smile every now and then; but it did still portray him as more serious, struggling with darkness and the horrible things he’d seen/done, and the temptation of nihilism. But his defining characteristic (as noticed by one of the more jaded characters) is that he is willing to sacrifice himself for just ONE innocent person and goes to huge lengths to avoid taking life. At at one point when hope seems lost, he’s depressed that despite defeating the Empire there still isn’t a happy ending, and he doesn’t know what he as a Jedi should do, he thinks, “The one thing he knew a Jedi wouldn’t do is sit around feeling sorry for themselves”. I was sitting on a bus when I read that line and I seriously wanted to stand up and applaud.
So yeah, you should read that book :) I think it does a good job balancing the complexities/darkness of life with hope, but without resorting to a hopelessly naive character/story. It also had several other things I really missed from Force Awakens, like Han and Leia in happier times, and Lando being Lando :)
I would edit this personally to say all three of the prequel novels. While I agree with your assessment that “Revenge” is the greatest, R.A. Salvatore did a masterful job with “Attack of the Clones” and Terry Brooks’ “Phantom Menace” was almost as good. I loved the story of the prequels – they’re the ones I grew up with, rather than the classics, but also Anakin’s fall to darkness was to me more compelling than Luke’s leading the Rebel Alliance. The books masterfully sidestepped the films sometimes fumblings while fleshing things out and providing greater insight into the characters. Stover’s characterization of Padme in particular when including the deleted scenes of her attempts to stop Palpatine politically was amazing (she’s one of my favorite Star Wars characters period).