roxanamalinachirila's review against another edition
3.0
"Samak the Ayyar" isn't a page-turner, I'm afraid, but it does hold interest. The story is almost (if not over) 1000 years old, and it records a long tale of adventure that used to be transmitted orally - before it was recorded in writing and made into an illuminated manuscript.
In the modern world, it was published in Iran in the late 1960s, before going out of print. Now, the story is available in English for the first time.
The real-life people mentioned on the cover are artist Freydoon Rassouli, who provided the initial translation of the text; and Jordan Mechner, video game designer and screenwriter, who provided the editing. I was surprised to recognize both: I was introduced to Rassouli's art in the early 2000s by amateur artists who believed he was the bee's knees and wanted nothing more than to be him; and Jordan Mechner is the creator of the icon 1989 video game Prince of Persia.
I'm not entirely sure how much editing was done. Mechner mentioned some small changes made, some repetitions removed - but also a carefulness not to go down the slippery slope of changing too much.
But never mind the modern people behind the book, when the real question is: what's an ayyar?
An ayyar is a rogue of great skill - both a knight errant in search of adventure, ready to offer his services to those in need, and a stealthy, cunning master of disguise with a hundred tricks up his sleeve. And Samak is one of the best, both skill-wise, and personality-wise: a great friend to have, deeply honorable, always ready to help those in need.
The plot of the book would make a great video game. I'm not sure if that's why it appealed to Jordan Mechner, but I'm willing to bet that yes. It's action-packed... and, alas, repetitive. Characters are generally two-dimensional, and numerous enough that it's easy to lose track of them.
In short, a prince of Persia has a chance encounter with a beautiful woman in the desert, and he falls in love instantly. He finds out she's a princess from the kingdom of Chin, and she's guarded by her nurse, an evil witch who dooms all her suitors. Not dissuaded, the prince goes to Chin to win her hand and enlists the help of the local ayyars, especially the brilliant Samak.
While he manages to defeat the witch, he gets tangled up in the politics of Chin and Machin, as Chin's vizier plots to betray his own kingdom to the enemy to give the princess in marriage to his own... nephew? son? I'm sorry, I forget. And anyway, it's not that relevant long term.
This leads to a long war between Chin and Machin, and numerous adventures in which the princess, another princess, and various prisoners need to be rescued from the midst of enemy camps, from impenetrable fortresses, and from dungeons. And if nobody needs to be rescued, then someone boasts they can kidnap an important enemy and proceeds to do so.
There are armies in this book, but there are no descriptions of battles. Either hundreds or thousands of people are massacred in an ambush, or the armies face each other and a hero on one side rides out in front of the other soldiers and goads enemy heroes to fight him - then they proceed to duel, usually to the death, and in little detail (and what detail there is is usually repeated from battle to battle).
At one point, one can't help but wonder if the armies are there for purely decorative purposes, and if dungeons wouldn't be better served by revolving doors, as they would prevent the untimely deaths of numerous guards.
I'm sure that the repetition works better in oral retellings, as the storyteller can revert to stock situations and descriptions, and as the audience might differ. In writing, it gets tedious. The book spans four years, and I swear I could feel every one of them.
But there's a certain fascination here: Samak is charming, and the way he weaves in and out of enemy territory is varied enough. He makes friends (some quite conveniently, when he needs help), and tries to stop them from being reckless, then goes into danger after them and saves them. The overarching plot is somewhat random, but it holds up.
And the most charming bit was, I believe, when a princess I'd half-forgotten about reappeared in the plot by sending a scathing letter reproaching her side of the war for forgetting she existed, when she desperately needed rescuing from a side character who had likewise vanished long before - apparently, when kidnapping her. Ah, to be a fly on the wall when the original storyteller probably realized that he'd forgotten about her, and most of the audience had, too, but turned that into yet another way to further the plot. What a master of his craft.
Stylistically, this resembles a fairy tale, in that it's very simply told. Unfortunately, that gets a bit old after 400 pages - and, presumably, four times again that, as "Samak the Ayyar" is one of five volumes. The simplicity and the large amount of twists, turns and general action per chapter mean that this reads very much like a soap opera (as another reviewer also observed).
I think the story might stick with me for a while. It's definitely not one of my favorites, and I wouldn't rush to read the next volumes, but I would eventually be curious to know what happens next. It feels like the sort of story that could spring others in our age, capturing the imagination of those who would love to explore parts of it more deeply.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Columbia University Press for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
In the modern world, it was published in Iran in the late 1960s, before going out of print. Now, the story is available in English for the first time.
The real-life people mentioned on the cover are artist Freydoon Rassouli, who provided the initial translation of the text; and Jordan Mechner, video game designer and screenwriter, who provided the editing. I was surprised to recognize both: I was introduced to Rassouli's art in the early 2000s by amateur artists who believed he was the bee's knees and wanted nothing more than to be him; and Jordan Mechner is the creator of the icon 1989 video game Prince of Persia.
I'm not entirely sure how much editing was done. Mechner mentioned some small changes made, some repetitions removed - but also a carefulness not to go down the slippery slope of changing too much.
But never mind the modern people behind the book, when the real question is: what's an ayyar?
An ayyar is a rogue of great skill - both a knight errant in search of adventure, ready to offer his services to those in need, and a stealthy, cunning master of disguise with a hundred tricks up his sleeve. And Samak is one of the best, both skill-wise, and personality-wise: a great friend to have, deeply honorable, always ready to help those in need.
The plot of the book would make a great video game. I'm not sure if that's why it appealed to Jordan Mechner, but I'm willing to bet that yes. It's action-packed... and, alas, repetitive. Characters are generally two-dimensional, and numerous enough that it's easy to lose track of them.
In short, a prince of Persia has a chance encounter with a beautiful woman in the desert, and he falls in love instantly. He finds out she's a princess from the kingdom of Chin, and she's guarded by her nurse, an evil witch who dooms all her suitors. Not dissuaded, the prince goes to Chin to win her hand and enlists the help of the local ayyars, especially the brilliant Samak.
While he manages to defeat the witch, he gets tangled up in the politics of Chin and Machin, as Chin's vizier plots to betray his own kingdom to the enemy to give the princess in marriage to his own... nephew? son? I'm sorry, I forget. And anyway, it's not that relevant long term.
This leads to a long war between Chin and Machin, and numerous adventures in which the princess, another princess, and various prisoners need to be rescued from the midst of enemy camps, from impenetrable fortresses, and from dungeons. And if nobody needs to be rescued, then someone boasts they can kidnap an important enemy and proceeds to do so.
There are armies in this book, but there are no descriptions of battles. Either hundreds or thousands of people are massacred in an ambush, or the armies face each other and a hero on one side rides out in front of the other soldiers and goads enemy heroes to fight him - then they proceed to duel, usually to the death, and in little detail (and what detail there is is usually repeated from battle to battle).
At one point, one can't help but wonder if the armies are there for purely decorative purposes, and if dungeons wouldn't be better served by revolving doors, as they would prevent the untimely deaths of numerous guards.
I'm sure that the repetition works better in oral retellings, as the storyteller can revert to stock situations and descriptions, and as the audience might differ. In writing, it gets tedious. The book spans four years, and I swear I could feel every one of them.
But there's a certain fascination here: Samak is charming, and the way he weaves in and out of enemy territory is varied enough. He makes friends (some quite conveniently, when he needs help), and tries to stop them from being reckless, then goes into danger after them and saves them. The overarching plot is somewhat random, but it holds up.
And the most charming bit was, I believe, when a princess I'd half-forgotten about reappeared in the plot by sending a scathing letter reproaching her side of the war for forgetting she existed, when she desperately needed rescuing from a side character who had likewise vanished long before - apparently, when kidnapping her. Ah, to be a fly on the wall when the original storyteller probably realized that he'd forgotten about her, and most of the audience had, too, but turned that into yet another way to further the plot. What a master of his craft.
Stylistically, this resembles a fairy tale, in that it's very simply told. Unfortunately, that gets a bit old after 400 pages - and, presumably, four times again that, as "Samak the Ayyar" is one of five volumes. The simplicity and the large amount of twists, turns and general action per chapter mean that this reads very much like a soap opera (as another reviewer also observed).
I think the story might stick with me for a while. It's definitely not one of my favorites, and I wouldn't rush to read the next volumes, but I would eventually be curious to know what happens next. It feels like the sort of story that could spring others in our age, capturing the imagination of those who would love to explore parts of it more deeply.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Columbia University Press for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
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