The Goblin Emperor by Kathrine Addison (Indiebound, Book Depository, Amazon) is
looking to be one of the most praised books of 2014 (at least from the
bloggers/critics I follow), and I can see why, though part of me thinks this
high praise is a much a reaction against the grimdark trend as for the book
itself.
It seems to me that a lot of people out there are simply tired of
grimdark. Really… the world right now kind of sucks for a lot of people, and
for the vast majority of us, life is hard and stressful a lot of the time. So,
do we really want to read about worlds that lack and hope and/or redemption? I
suppose some people probably find some form of solace in reading about worlds
that suck worse than ours, and others consider it a form of ‘realism’ that they
can get behind. Me…well, I've not jumped on the grimdark wagon because when I escape
to the worlds I’m reading about, I do want some hope, I want redemption, I want
positive, progressive change. I want to leave my world behind.
Yes, this is about me and what I’m looking for. 2014 has turned
out to be a particularly hard and stressful year for me, maybe the most
stressful ever – even more than the harsh medical struggles of my daughter’s
first year of life. That sucked bad – but I had no control over it, I could
only go along with hope and prayers. The difference with now is that it’s much
of my own doing, I often have direct control over how a thing will play out. That’s
a whole new kind of stress for me, and way more pressure than I want to deal
with. So, the urge to just walk away and escape it all is stronger than ever.
For me that, I think that’s why The Goblin Emperor worked so well. I got a journey into a world
that was both an escape and something I could really relate to. Much of that
that stress I mention above is due to me ascending to a position of leadership –
one I accepted/volunteered for, but also one that is turning out way different
than I had thought/hoped for. It actually sucks most of the time and I don’t
have the time and energy that I need to devote to it. But, I’m the one in
charge, so I've got to move forward anyway, because it really does all come
down to me.
As a result, I could strongly relate to Maia and his ascending to
the role of emperor. Now, my own situation is not one of life or death, there’s
a big difference in the scope of leadership addressed, and my own situation
doesn't come with racial baggage (though perhaps a little bit of the family
baggage). But it was still a position I could relate to – feeling completely
out of my league, no comfort zone in site, helplessness in reliance on others,
those moments of losing every bit of confidence in one’s decision making
abilities, and yet an overriding duty to live up to the opportunity and make
things better.
Because that’s what it’s all really about, isn't it? Striving to
make the world a better place regardless of what gets thrown at you. Whether
that world is the small world of your own family, your place of work, or the
actual, literal world around us all. It really is a fundamental part of human
nature to be optimistic in the face all the contravening information, and to really
want to make the world better.
Grimdark refuses to admit that about human nature, and that
refusal often does nothing more than highlight just how strong a part of human
nature hope really is. It deals with the exception to the rule of hope, and
that’s why I don’t think it will last. That’s also why much of what gets called
grimdark is anything but (however, that’s another discussion entirely). So, it’s
no surprise that a book like The Goblin Emperor
is receiving so much praise. And it really is a great big breath of fresh air
among the stench of grimdark.
I still have another admission to make – when I was reading The Goblin Emperor, none of this was
evident to me, or at least not at the level I’m exploring here. I was just
enjoying a good book. A fantasy book that largely lacks violence, and is the
better for it. A fantasy book that embraces the idea of hope, change, and
progress. A fantasy book that has one of the best, most uplifting endings that
I've read in years. But after sitting down to write this review, having no idea
that it would end up being what it’s become, I realize that The Goblin Emperor affected me at a much
deeper level than I imagined. Only a truly great novel can do that and I now
realize that The Goblin Emperor is a
truly great novel.
For the record, I've also realized that for some reason I can
never spell the word emperor correctly – my hands are incapable of it. Perhaps
I should unpack that one in my next post?
5 comments:
Is Grimdark going to be less of a thing? Maybe. I don't like it as a steady diet, only as "Salt" to my usual fantasy.
Some authors had been writing grimdark long before, um, Lord Grimdark burst upon the scene, and there will be "Grimdark" long hence. But maybe Fantasy is ready for new things.
yes, what gets called grimdark is nothing new, though I think the spotlight is brighter at the moment. I think it's a fad that will be coming to an end now (though with the slow pace of publishing, it'll take a couple of years to fade back into the shadows). Of course I could just be projecting my own wishes.
I don't know what it is but I just can not get into The Goblin Emperor (or City of Stairs , another much acclaimed fantasy novel from 2014).
I do feel for Maia in The Goblin Emperor but I just am completely uninterested in all the royal intrigue of the Emperor's Court. I Just Did Not Care. I gave it a couple chances (it is still on my nightstand but my reading time is limited and i want to spend it on things I really enjoy, like Brent Weeks Lightbringer series or Peter Brett's Demon Cycle.
@ron
It's a different kind of fantasy, so I'm not surprised that it doesn't work for everybody. There are too many good books to struggle with one that doesn't work for you.
Thanks, Ken, for your observations on Grimdark. As far as I can tell, this push to nihilism is a natural reflection of some fairly pervasive attitudes here in the Western world: the un-reflective hero who can only spare a few dry quips to the mayhem he (usually 'he') delivers, and is often seen (in film and on television) walking out of a ball of flame with a face lacking all expression. Someone decided, somewhere, that this was the epitome of cool. In all media entertainment these days, we're seeing iterations of that motif, and like you, I'm fed up with it. There may be something of a childish glee in the revelling of the worst in human nature: at least to me, it seems to lack maturity. I know I'm done with reading about sociopathic heroes.
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