Review: Crack’d Pot Trail by Steven Erikson

I don’t know whether I should be scared to review Crack’d Pot Trail by Steven Erikson (US, UK, Canada, Indiebound) or if I should cackle maniacally at the awesome irony that is this fan, reviewer (and even critic) reviewing a book that is all about fandom, author intent, artistic integrity, criticism, contemplative self-doubt and cannibalism.

Crack’d Pot Trail is the latest novella by Erikson in his Tales of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach novella series that takes place in his Malazan world – though at 180 pages, I’m not sure it can be truly considered a novella anymore. Bauchelain and Korbal Broach are notoriously evil necromancers and now have a group of honorable hunters dedicated to seeing them dead. The action takes place along a pilgrimage trail in an essentially anonymous desert where hunters, artists, groupies, pilgrims and one critic find themselves on the same trail – a trail of the worst kind of desperation.

The horses of the noble hunters are far too valuable, the mules pulling the coach of a rich pilgrim are far too valuable, but the food is gone people have got to eat. Everyone knows it’s improper to eat women, noble knights, and even critics – leaving the artists, whom everyone also know are not of any real value (except perhaps as dinner). The hapless artists find themselves competing each night to not become dinner as everyone becomes a fan or a critic and grows to enjoy the taste of desperate artist.

Malazan fans will be disappointed that this Tale of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach doesn’t really feature Bauchelain and Korbal Broach much at all – instead we get a whole new suite of characters that could lead into their own serial line of stories. This concentrates on the hunters and the artists that feed them.

As I see it, the most effective way to describe what Erikson is doing with Crack’d Pot Trail is to be blunt and a bit foul. Erikson has balls – balls that Steven Colbert would envy. Erikson has a lot to say on story telling, artistic integrity and intent, fandom, and criticism – and at least some of what he is saying is something of a big FU to his fans and critics alike. As the artists (generally poets and other verbal storytellers) tell there tales in defense of literally being eaten for dinner, the audience often interrupts and questions the artist – why are you talking about that, get to the details, more sex, more violence, etc. Additionally, there is one professional critic among the audience (literally a judge at the contest the artists are ultimately traveling to) – a critic who often jumps in and demands more details and explanations – often about completely inane aspects of the story. The picture painted isn’t pretty…and then it gets nasty.

The point becomes very clear and it bites hard. Hell, one of the groupies for an artist becomes a rather sardonic zombie tagging along the periphery of the trail and the object of her admiration meets and unfortunate end along with the other groupies. After all, what artist doesn’t dream of eating their fans and what fan doesn’t dream of eating the heart out of their beloved?

It’s not all so biting – Erikson tells things from the point of view of one of the artists and through this artist he basically bears all. We see the artist’s view on life, the universe and art. We see his justifications for doing what he does. We see the heart of his intent. It’s only fitting that this artist enters into a separate agreement – a promise to provide redemption to one of his fellow travelers or to die if he fails to satisfy. And the end – is there redemption, is there art, or did a whole bunch of people just die?

And lest I forget – the pilgrimage is to visit the shrine of the indifferent god. That’s not appropriate, not appropriate at all.

Erikson has written something I think all authors dream of writing at one point or another but are either too scared or too smart to actually put on paper. Well, as a fan, a critic, and a far from noble knight, I have to say that I loved every juicy bit of Crack'd Pot Trail – I think I’ve developed a taste for it. 9/10

Related Posts: The Lees of Laughter's End review, Interview with Steven Erikson, Dust of Dreams Review, Toll the Hounds review, Reaper's Gale review, The Bonehunters review, Return of the Crimson Guard review

Review: The Lees of Laughter’s End by Steven Erikson

(n) lees: the sediment (dregs) from fermentation of an alcoholic beverage; the solid element which precipitates at the end of the fermentation; cells of dead yeast, pulp of berries and, in red wines, pips and grape-skin.

The Lees of Laughter’s End is the third published novella (second chronologically) by Steven Erikson that follows the horrifically strange and powerful duo, Bauchelain and Korbal Broach, and their inept manservant, Emmacipor Reese (known to the sailors as Mancy the Luckless). These novels take Erikson’s typical dark, gallows humor and turn it more sardonic and even absurd as these two enigmatic mages (at least one of which is psychotic) attract powerfully strange events.

Laughter’s End is a swath of ocean within Erikson’s Malazan world where nightmares come to life – it’s the place the huge and monstrous dhenrabi go to mate, where sharks that would dwarf Jaws both feed and flee the spoils. It’s a place where spirits of the dead have the power to rise, to become solid elements – particularly spirits bound to the iron nails ships are constructed from.

The Suncurl is a ship traveling The Wastes on its way from Lamentable Moll to the southern coast of Genebakis. The captain knows nothing of sailing and is accompanied by three deserter soldiers and a drunken first mate (who actually knows a bit sailing) as they flee Stratum for unknown reasons. In Lamentable Moll they took on a new crew and three passengers – Bauchelain, Korbal Broach, and Mancy the Luckless.

The Lees of Laughter’s End begins as the Suncurl is about to enter Laughter’s End and the horrors it will awaken. A creature new to Erikson readers – a lich – is raised and terrorizes the crew while Korbal Broach goes fishing with some interesting bait and lets his ‘child’ out its cage to ‘play’ with the lich – things begin to get bloody. Who will be the lees of this fermented mess?

Erikson has gift with names that is unmatched in The Lees of Laughter’s End and adds to the perfectly dark and sardonic prose. Gust Hubb, Birds Mottle, and Heck Urse are deserter soldiers who along with the rest of crew are subjected to a horrific chain of events, made comic in its random, pointlessness absurdity. First mate Ably Druther does indeed ‘druther’ ably and eventually meets an appropriate end. Briv the Cook’s helper, Briv the Carpenter’s helper, and Briv the rope braider inspire a running ‘who’s on first’ routine culminating in a scene with all three in the same place, epitomizing the dark and absurd hilarity of the novella.

Erikson’s novellas are great examples of short fantasy that could be accessible to any audience, but will be most appreciated by those familiar with his Malazan series. The price and limited nature of their release makes them difficult to come-by for the average reader, but if you have means or opportunity, I recommend take it – Erikson’s writing is better in short form than long and the humor is perfect for a mind like mine. The Lees of Laughter’s End easily equals Blood Follows and The Healthy Dead. 8/10

Related Posts: Interview with Steven Erikson, Reaper's Gale review, The Bonehunters review, Return of the Crimson Guard review, Crack'd Pot Trail Review