I’m going to sidebar for a minute. Stick with me.
There has been no shortage of discussion in recent days about the nature of the author and fan relationship. The argument goes, “authors shouldn’t involve themselves in discussions about a readers interpretation of their work.” And the response is generally, “I love talking to fans about my work and want to engage.” There’s a reasonable case to made for either side.
I bring it up, not to rehash what has become a tired diatribe, but to mention that if Joe Abercrombie commented on this reread every week it would fundamentally change the way it conducts itself. My writing would be different and, far more significantly, your commenting would be different. I won’t characterize it as better or worse, but it would be different. I don’t know what the right answer is, as to how authors and fans should interact in online space, but to suggest those interactions won’t change the conversation is a bit… silly.
You know who else is super silly? Practical Frost. Trust me.
This week in the reread I ended up doing only a single chapter. I streamlined in large part because if I did both “On the List” and “An Offer and a Gift” this post would have been 3,000 words long. Also because there’s a lot going on, particularly in “An Offer and a Gift,” and I didn’t want to leave either chapter with short shrift. Thank you for your patience. . .
“On the List”
FedEx: Sent to arrest Mercers “implicated” by Salem Rews, Glokta finds his marks murdered before he arrives. Suspecting a conspiracy from within the Inquisition, Arch Lector Sult gives him the authority to conduct a sting to catch the culprit.
US Postal Service: Ordered by Arch Lector Sult to root out the misbehaving Mercers on Salem Rews’ list, Sand dan Glokta creeps toward Villen dan Robb’s townhouse. Accompanied by Practicals Frost and Severard, they infiltrate the premises with little help from the Inquisitor. After entering, Frost clears the lower level, while Severard investigates upstairs. The need for stealth is quickly abated when Severard discovers:
A handsome young man lay on his back under the window, staring up, pale-faced and open mouthed at the ceiling. It would have been an understatement to say that his throat had been cut. It had been hacked so savagely that his head was only just still attached. There was blood splattered everywhere, on the torn clothes, on the slashed mattress, all over the body itself. There were a couple of smeared, bloody palm-prints on the wall, a great pool of blood across a good part of the floor, still wet. He was killed tonight. Perhaps only a few hours ago. Perhaps only a few minutes .
‘I don’t think he’ll be answering our questions,’ said Severard.
‘No.’ Glokta’s eyes drifted over the wreckage. ‘I think he might be dead. But how did it happen?’
Frost fixed him with a pink eye and a raised white eyebrow. ‘Poithon?’
While Villen dan Robb’s death is inconvenient, Glokta and the trio set off to find the next name on Rews’ list. Unfortunately, Solimo Scandi is also dead. The coincidence is too strong for Glokta who reasons there must be a mole within the Inquisition who’s alerted the Mercers to their liability.
Glokta arranges to meet Arch Lector Sult at a park to discuss the result of his investigation. Sult is disappointed to learn that Glokta wasn’t able to apprehend Villen dan Robb and instructs him to continue down the list. Glokta glibly points out to the Arch Lector that he’s discovered everyone on the list is dead. The Mercers are cleaning house.
Sult agrees with Glokta that a mole is likely, and Glokta asserts Superior Kalyne is the most the likely culprit. Taken aback by Glokta’s accusation, Sult makes it very clear that any accusation of that magnitude against a Superior of the Inquisiton must be based in a fact. An operation is concocted to use Salen Rews to spring a trap for the Mercers and the Inquisition mole. Glokta’s assignment is simple, “I want names.”
After the meeting with Sult ends, Glokta stays on the bench, in no rush to stand on his aching leg. Lord Marshall Vaurz strolls up and awkwardly engages his former fencing student. He asks Glokta to intervene on his behalf with Jezal, who despite immense talent is unwilling to commit himself to his steels as Glokta did years ago. Despite resenting Varuz’s pretense, Glokta agrees to assist.
Important characters introduced: None.
Minor characters introduced: Some dead Mercers
Quotes to Remember:
What a useful fellow he is. Without him and Frost I am just a cripple. They are my hands, my arms, my legs. But I am their brains.
This would seem to back up some of the reasoning I applied to the term PRACTICAL. They are Glokta’s tools, a practical extension of his complex mind. It also speaks to Glokta’s character, about how he’s continued to serve despite his tortured body. He finds pride in his mental fencing as much as he ever did in his actual sword work.
‘The commoners are up in arms again near Keln. Some idiot of a landowner hangs a few peasants and no we have a mess to deal with! How hard can it be to manage a field full of dirt and a couple farmers? You don’t have to treat them well, just as long as you don’t hang them!’
Oh, Arch Lector Sult, you cad!
Just a bit of world building, as it further demonstrates the continued decline of the Union as any kind of functional government. It seems to be a government on the edge of collapse, pressured from all sides and rotten within.
Tracking Information: So, quickly, this chapter gives us little in the way anything about the world. It’s a tight point of view on Glokta dealing with his own problems. However, it does begin to flesh out the Mercer/Inquisition conflict, which, to be honest, continues to feel a little thin.
Arch Lector Sult clearly wants to upset the status quo due to his distaste for the bourgeois. What is not clear is on whose orders Sult is issuing his commands. Is it his own agenda? The King’s? The Closed Council’s? Or is there another force at play? Is he merely trying to upset the merchant class who he sees as a threat to noble authority, or is there a deeper intent? At this point it looks like a purge for the sake of a purge. In any case, with a possible conspirator within the Inquisition it seems likely we’ll get a better idea of the long game on both sides.
Putting that aside, the real focus of this chapter is Abercrombie’s voice when he’s writing Glokta. In “On the List” that voice trends more toward humor than ever before. Although I don’t mention it in the summary, the opening bits of this chapter feature Glokta dressed in black and his cane wrapped in cloth, playing the cat burglar. It’s absurdity is only heightened by his thoughts, which reminds me of the classic Austin Powers inner-monologue gag that ends with, “How do I let them know because of the unfreezing process, I have no inner monologue? I hope I didn’t just say that all out loud just now.” Combined with the the hilarious quote in the summary from Practical Frost, this chapter had me laughing out loud several times.
Juxtaposed to that comedy are some of the blackest moments (so far) in the book. Not only do we get some gruesome descriptions of death, but Glokta’s selfsame monologue also includes the clearest depiction of how he views himself in the world. And let me tell you something, it’s depressing.
Glokta doesn’t just lament the loss of his body, he actively courts the notion that he is universally rejected from his previous associations because of it. Abercrombie highlights this by his reaction to Lord Marshall Varuz. Since we only see these interactions from Glokta’s point of view, we would be led to believe he’s been treated as a pariah since his return from Gurkhish prison. I can’t help but wonder whether Glokta is as responsible for poisoning the well as his former colleagues are for erecting a wall between them. One thing is clear though, Abercrombie portends some very real conflict between yesterday’s fencing champion and today’s aspiring one.
Next week: I deliver the aforementioned “An Offer and a Gift,” in which Jezal gets beat up by Varuz, loses interest in women not named Ardee, and gets an eye full of Fenris the Feared in the Open Council. Also, will Joe Abercrombie show up in the comments to set us straight? Only Stubby the Rocket knows.
Actually, Stubby doesn’t know either.
Justin Landon runs Staffer’s Book Review where his posts are less on-color. Find him on Twitter for meanderings on science fiction and fantasy, and to argue with him about whatever you just read.
Author interaction depends on the forum and the author. Rich Burlew sometimes needs to quell idiocy and hardheadedness despite clear on-page information, Zack Weiner drops in on Comics I Don’t Understand sometimes (and CIDU Bill in not excited about it), J. K. Rowling gives out info barely hinted at in text. Sometimes it is welcome, usually informative, rarely defensive.
One comment! Completely unacceptable. Try this on for size — I believe Abercrombie’s text plainly demonstrates that Marshall Varuz is Ferro in disguise!
Ferro? You must be smoking the chagga with Logen at this point of the reread.
I tend to take Abercrombie seriously at this point concerning Ferro. She’s still lurking around the periphery of the novel at this point maiming and killing her way across Gurkhul. I’m not certain that even Joe Abercrombie has the willpower to write Ferro without at least a few C-Bombs being dropped or slipping a few ‘f’ing pinks’ in there.
Now if you had inferred that Varuz was, in fact, either Black Dow or Forley the Weakest, both widely accepted Interwebs theory’s concerning the mystery of the Lord Marshall’s identify at this point of the novel, I would have been all up in this thread for and chomping at the bit for a debate.
I tend to lean towards the Forley theory myself due to his evident mastery of the sword since, as we will see shortly, there is no more preeminent swordsman in the entire First Law world than Forley the Weakest. I mean, who’s going to believe that an old man could toss out the whoopings that a strong and nearly perfect soldier like Jezeal’s been taking? Absurd to say the least.
Granted Varuz’s cruelty matches up with what we get to know of Black Dow, but I just don’t buy him as having the necessary level of skill as a swordsman that would be required to pull off the Varuz impersonation.
Later as we near the contest we’ll see that Abercrombie attempts to pull off another switcheroo concerning Varuz, but most everyone is able to spot where it occurs and that Varuz is then being impersonated by none other than Jezeal’s own mother, which is quite obvious from the text.
I dare anyone to find the flaw in any of the above posted writing; I think you’ll find it’s quite impossible.
**Edit**
Back to the serious side of things.
I’m afraid the aside goes over my head, I guess I missed a thread somewhere or something.
It seems the topic is author interaction. I can imagine that I’d temper my words about said author if I knew they were looking at my words and taking them to heart, which the author shouldn’t. I’m a fan, not an editor or even a beta reader. I read, enjoy, whine, shout praises, and gripe in the next breath. I’m fickle, not impartial, and as a fan that’s all I’m meant to be. If my opinion on how an author works or how their writing should turn out was worth more than a grain of salt in their minds I should be getting paid to do so professionally. Instead I happily pay them my money and consider it money well spent in most cases.
I think as an author I’d find some limited amount of interaction with my fan base to be rewarding, but I’d likely get tired of the millionth time I heard “ZOMG LOGEN IS TEH GREATEST!!1! HE SHOULD TOTALLY HAVE HIS OWN TEN BOOK MEGA SERIES WHERE HE TAKES OVER TEH WORLD AND KILLZ JEZEAL, MARRIES FERRO, AND HIM AND WEST JAM A SWORD UP BAYAZ’s @@@@@$%!!1!ONE!!” or some such nonsense like that.
But that is the double edged sword that is the internet. There are a million people that know exactly how an author’s works should go or what should have happened and aren’t happy no matter the message or what the book or series accomplishes.
I’m sure some authors thrive on continuous fan interaction, I just don’t think I could do it without poisoning the metaphorical well.
I guess the short version of all of that blather is: You can’t please everyone, so just stay true to yourself.
I’m not sure if I went completely off track there or what, like I said, I missed the conversation. I’m just spouting my own nonsensical thoughts on the subject of reader/writer internet interactions.
All of the above chapter thoughts deleted from the above post and moved to this post:
Right from the start of the chapter we see Glokta pulling his ‘why me’ routine, but a few sentence later admit to himself that he’s drawn to do these things with an almost masochistic longing to feel alive again.
And therein lies the duality of Glokta’s character, something that we haven’t really touched on all that much here in the reread.
He looks at his past self with envy, hates what he has become, but even when he says over and over again that he wishes it was all over we see that he can’t help himself but to slip off on another painful ‘adventure’ with his Practicals even when he admits it to himself that they don’t need him along for the ride.
For all of his whining and complaining he enjoys the pain to a certain extent and to an even further extent a chance to flip the bird to the world and anyone else who might be watching.
Glokta might admit to himself that he’s a wreck, that he’s physically incapable of most of what life throws his way, and he’s more than willing to rub it in another person’s face if it will give him an advantage; but the second it’s pointed out to him by someone other than himself up go the walls of sarcasm and hostility and he’s off to climb those stairs like they are a mountain just to prove that someone wrong. That total lack of self preservation coupled with his perverse need to slap the world in the face every time it looks at him askew just makes me root a little harder for him with every example we’re provided with throughout the Trilogy.
“Poithon?”
I’m still chuckling a bit recalling the scene. Who knew the big fella had a sense of humor like that?
So, something’s rotten in the city of Adua, err, well, more rotten than per usual.
I found the Mercer’s reaction to Glokta’s investigation to be exactly what I expected them to do given the circumstances.
Sult has Glokta wading into their midst swinging a big stick at everyone in reach, of course they would eliminate every connection that they knew the Inquisitors had on them, if you’re too heavy to maintain altitude you cut the dead weight, to the tune of a fairly large and gristly body count in this chapter. We only get to see a couple of the crime scenes but they’re right out of a extra graphic episode of CSI.
Its funny how well this storyline works right next to Logen and Jezeal’s which are following more traditional fantasy lines at this point of the book. Glokta’s walking through a political thriller mixed with a police drama while one is journeying and another is training for a contest, it’s more than a little odd to think of those three storylines together, but it all fits pretty seemlessly thanks to the actual writing.
Even with the weight of Sult and Glokta’s conversation in the park I still got a pretty hearty laugh out of Abercrombie’s description of the hapless drunken soldiers getting themselves dumped in the pond. I can actually picture the absurdity of the scene playing out on screen. You hear two of our major players admitting that there is a mole somewhere in the organization while a crew of idiots fumbles around in the water in front of them.
I know I can’t describe exactly what I’m picturing in my mind, but Abercrombie does a fine job of playing the effect up and scene is simply marvelous to read.
And as the chapter starts to wind down we see just how ruthless Sult is in his pursuit of the Mercers, suffice it to say he’d set his mother up to take a fall if it furthered his goals and not give it a second thought. Which begs the question, if Sult is willing to throw innocent people under the metaphorical bus, how much of a chance does our intrepid Inquisitor Glokta stand if he earns the ire of Sult?
That of course leads me to another discussion point, how well would these Glokta chapters read if he wasn’t under constant duress from threat of death at pretty much every turn? Abercrombie walks the tight rope very well and it’s easy for readers to see that if Glokta takes one step out of line he’ll be getting his mostly exaggerated death wish fulfilled courtesy of the High Inquisitor or the ever growing list of characters who wouldn’t mind off’ing him themselves. But if it wasn’t for that built in suspense would Glokta have made quite the same impact as a character? Sure he’s funny to read and provides the only voice of reason in the majority of his scenes even if he doesn’t actually say anything out loud, but how many scenes could Abercrombie have come up with and carried the horror and gruesomeness that is inherent in all of Glokta’s chapters without the threats and the readers need to know “Well, howis he going to get out of this one with his behind intact?”
As the chapter closes we get some more quiet musings from Glokta along with a few more of his witticisms, “Broken hearts will heal but broken teeth never do,” as he watches the normals go about their lives in the park with more than a little regret on his part even if he despises them all in his mind.
The conversation between Varuz and Glokta was another faintly sad moment, Glokta can’t stand Varuz for obvious reasons (Varuz is pretentious and still feigns friendship with Glokta when he needs something), and he can’t stand Jezeal for even more obvious reasons (he reminds him of himself, albeit a lazier and less talented version of himself in his mind). But here we again see how both the world and Glokta views himself, as a worthless cripple, but here is an old friend from his old life and Glokta plays along all the while consciously shunning both old friend and old life. Would it make a difference if Gokta actively pursued his old life even in his present state instead of going out of his way to make everyone uncomfortable and toss up barriers for them at every turn? We’re not likely to find out any time soon, not on a large scale anyway, but there’s another little morsel of food for thought.
Anywhoo, that’s enough out of me on this chapter and Glokta for the moment, there’s plenty more to feed the text wall machine coming up here shortly anyway.
Oh, and if you do happen to see this Mr. Abercrombie, I’ve some great ideas concerning your new First Law World Trilogy involving Ferro, Logen, and some pointy objects meant for a certain Magi’s back side that I’ve been toying with/writing bricks of fan fic about. I like to consider myself a wellfont of classy and by no means fanish ideas concerning your world and characters, so if you’d like to hear about them, I’m just saying I’ve got the time… I love you…
Rereading that last bit gets creeper by the dot, I believe I may have frightened myself a bit with that. Oh, well, I’ll creepily stand/lurk by this post.
Fresh0130 – I’d say you’ve got it right when it comes to author interaction. If an author of a popular series were to take to heart anything they read online they’d have an aneurysm from the constant ups and downs. It makes me wonder if Stephanie Meyer ever goes near the internet or if she has people to go online for her to save her own brain.
That said, I recently found myself on Abercrombie’s Facebook page, commenting on the look of the First Law comic (which I do not like, by the way). My comment, not on an anonymous forum but on his own site that he reads and contributes to often, was to complain about the look of Logen Ninefingers.I mean, this is now a world where you can communicate with your favorite author and if he finds what you have to say interesting he may actually write back, and most of us only use it to whine or continue our fanboy rants that are realty better served for forums like this. So, in conclusion, an author should stay the hell Subaru from a public forum unless he’s got thick skin, but those whocomment on his own page should show a teensy bit more respect, says I.