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A review by wyrmdog
Spirit Gate by Kate Elliott
4.0
When Sci Fi Weekly said that this was for people that enjoy the journey perhaps more than the destination, they weren't kidding. This book meanders a lot, and it doesn't seem to have a real villain or a truly interesting set of antagonists. They are too vague, too nebulous. Instead, this book relies almost entirely on the strength of its protagonists and the cultures that are slowly revealed and explored to drive its interest. If you love world-building, this book is for you.
While some may lament the lack of Marit (and I get that, truly), it was Cornflower that spoke to me. Her arc is tragic and awful and neglected even by the author, her tragedy written in large part by the protagonists themselves. When it comes around, her story is a bit unsatisfying, but it also feels real or as real as something full of supernatural elements can. Elliott keeps opening the window to show us a glimpse of her, then shuts it and ignores that she's out there. Over and over.
But this story shines brightest when it is exploring a set of cultures that cannot be pinned down in the way that others using splats or the proverbial 'planet of hats' ideas can. There are cultures that are superficially similar to the feudal Chinese, the Mongols, Islamic North Africans...but each and every one of them is drawn with a care that transcends these easy classifications. In the end, none of them are what you might think at first. Every one of them has nuance that a lesser author would be unable to convincingly illustrate, and it is quickly apparent that the world is neither a mirror of our own, nor an homage to it. It is very much its own thing with its own people and its own histories.
The characters are distilled from their home cultures and could not exist as they are without that direct line. Earlier I mentioned that Cornflower's tragedy stems directly from the protagonists, and this is probably where the allusions to other authors like Martin come from. The book is unrepentant about the social constructs that would make the people monsters in our own time and our own cultures, and manages to humanize them anyway. Slavery, rape, murder, conquest, genocide, sexism, and racism run rampant but never ever push the story into moralizing or apologetics. The horrible elements are not dwelt on, but presented matter-of-fact, neatly avoiding any possibility of gratuitous inclusion. This makes the horrors of Cornflower's life both digestable and at the same time, worse than if we experienced them more immediately. The very act of noting the horrors inflicted on her without diving into the details quite possibly makes the casual cruelty more horrifying because of how it is all seen as normal and...well...acceptable.
The world is better drawn than that of any author I have ever read, but the pacing and the plotting are a bit frustrating for a reader like me who loves the adventures too. It's VERY slow and VERY focused on what amounts to a slice-of-life portrait of the characters as they get drawn into what is likely to be an epic stage. But it's off to a very slow start and I find myself wondering if it will ever pick up speed.
I'll be finishing the series, for sure, but I needed a break so...off to Cibola Burn.
While some may lament the lack of Marit (and I get that, truly), it was Cornflower that spoke to me. Her arc is tragic and awful and neglected even by the author, her tragedy written in large part by the protagonists themselves. When it comes around, her story is a bit unsatisfying, but it also feels real or as real as something full of supernatural elements can. Elliott keeps opening the window to show us a glimpse of her, then shuts it and ignores that she's out there. Over and over.
But this story shines brightest when it is exploring a set of cultures that cannot be pinned down in the way that others using splats or the proverbial 'planet of hats' ideas can. There are cultures that are superficially similar to the feudal Chinese, the Mongols, Islamic North Africans...but each and every one of them is drawn with a care that transcends these easy classifications. In the end, none of them are what you might think at first. Every one of them has nuance that a lesser author would be unable to convincingly illustrate, and it is quickly apparent that the world is neither a mirror of our own, nor an homage to it. It is very much its own thing with its own people and its own histories.
The characters are distilled from their home cultures and could not exist as they are without that direct line. Earlier I mentioned that Cornflower's tragedy stems directly from the protagonists, and this is probably where the allusions to other authors like Martin come from. The book is unrepentant about the social constructs that would make the people monsters in our own time and our own cultures, and manages to humanize them anyway. Slavery, rape, murder, conquest, genocide, sexism, and racism run rampant but never ever push the story into moralizing or apologetics. The horrible elements are not dwelt on, but presented matter-of-fact, neatly avoiding any possibility of gratuitous inclusion. This makes the horrors of Cornflower's life both digestable and at the same time, worse than if we experienced them more immediately. The very act of noting the horrors inflicted on her without diving into the details quite possibly makes the casual cruelty more horrifying because of how it is all seen as normal and...well...acceptable.
The world is better drawn than that of any author I have ever read, but the pacing and the plotting are a bit frustrating for a reader like me who loves the adventures too. It's VERY slow and VERY focused on what amounts to a slice-of-life portrait of the characters as they get drawn into what is likely to be an epic stage. But it's off to a very slow start and I find myself wondering if it will ever pick up speed.
I'll be finishing the series, for sure, but I needed a break so...off to Cibola Burn.