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A review by sherwoodreads
The Wheel of Osheim by Mark Lawrence
I had to think about my reaction to this book, which took me longer to read than both the previous books, by a considerable margin.
Not the first two acts. I inhaled those in a couple of days, once I figured out what Lawrence was doing with the abrupt tense shifts and changes of scene—a bit of structural coolth that I found an exhilarating boost to the ongoing story. The emotional plays, the vivid descriptions and the characterizations were great, making me look forward to the gradual unfolding of Snorri’s stint in Hell.
Then we hit the climactic portion of act two, which was basically a zombie war. I am so not into the zombie rot, but I was invested in the characters and story, so I waited a few days for the right mood.
Lawrence pulled off that massive battle sequence with masterful spikes in tension, roller coaster emotions, and vivid description veined by wry wit, but it felt in so many ways like a book climax . . . and yet there was a significant portion of book to go!
Act three proved to be yet another long quest into dreary country, punctuated by hard fights against flayed horrors. Lots and lots of fights against flayed horrors, with corresponding gore and squish, stenches and grue. All the way to the end, so much of it that it had a kind of numbing effect, and I found myself taking short breaks from the book, then bracing for more snickersnee and squishing viscera; I felt that our main four, reunited at last, were seen at a distance, they seemed so emotionally disengaged compared to the upfront squelch of sanguinary body bits. I told myself that they were fighting the end game and it was do or die.
But why didn’t I feel it? Even Snorri’s final chapters of his story seemed distant, after the heart-gripping insights he’d reached in the last book.
Lawrence’s writing was as vivid, taut, and threaded with dark humor as always*, though there might have been one or two too many moments in the last act during which Jal hit a max crisis point . . . then woke up after a blackout. Once or twice, it’s tight. But too many times, it begins to feel like “Once I leaped from the pit of vipers . . .”
I think the problem—if there is a problem—is mine, that there was too large a balance of gruesome evisceration in that last third that overwhelmed everything else, in spite of some really nifty scenes (another meeting with Count Isen was every bit as awesome as the one in the previous book). I’m not a grimdark gal, and this was a heavy dose of grimdark.
That was emphasized by the ‘realization’ that Jalan comes to at the very end which, to me, hearkened back to the philosophizing of my peers in the early and mid seventies, and it didn’t work very well then. I felt that this was anti-insight (especially as Jal had never had any problem acknowledging emotions). And finally, the last page left me with a “really?” feel . These, I think, are my issues, rather than faults of the book, but maybe worth mentioning for fellow readers who circle warily around the heavy grue and moral ambiguities of grimdark.
*[Pedant’s corner: though I hope the copyeditor will learn that sink—a verb that showed up a lot—is sank in the past tense, and sunk only in the perfect tenses.]
Not the first two acts. I inhaled those in a couple of days, once I figured out what Lawrence was doing with the abrupt tense shifts and changes of scene—a bit of structural coolth that I found an exhilarating boost to the ongoing story. The emotional plays, the vivid descriptions and the characterizations were great, making me look forward to the gradual unfolding of Snorri’s stint in Hell.
Then we hit the climactic portion of act two, which was basically a zombie war. I am so not into the zombie rot, but I was invested in the characters and story, so I waited a few days for the right mood.
Lawrence pulled off that massive battle sequence with masterful spikes in tension, roller coaster emotions, and vivid description veined by wry wit, but it felt in so many ways like a book climax . . . and yet there was a significant portion of book to go!
Act three proved to be yet another long quest into dreary country, punctuated by hard fights against flayed horrors. Lots and lots of fights against flayed horrors, with corresponding gore and squish, stenches and grue. All the way to the end, so much of it that it had a kind of numbing effect, and I found myself taking short breaks from the book, then bracing for more snickersnee and squishing viscera; I felt that our main four, reunited at last, were seen at a distance, they seemed so emotionally disengaged compared to the upfront squelch of sanguinary body bits. I told myself that they were fighting the end game and it was do or die.
But why didn’t I feel it? Even Snorri’s final chapters of his story seemed distant, after the heart-gripping insights he’d reached in the last book.
Spoiler
We’re told what happened, we don’t see it, after all the long road we’ve seen Snorri tread.Lawrence’s writing was as vivid, taut, and threaded with dark humor as always*, though there might have been one or two too many moments in the last act during which Jal hit a max crisis point . . . then woke up after a blackout. Once or twice, it’s tight. But too many times, it begins to feel like “Once I leaped from the pit of vipers . . .”
I think the problem—if there is a problem—is mine, that there was too large a balance of gruesome evisceration in that last third that overwhelmed everything else, in spite of some really nifty scenes (another meeting with Count Isen was every bit as awesome as the one in the previous book). I’m not a grimdark gal, and this was a heavy dose of grimdark.
That was emphasized by the ‘realization’ that Jalan comes to at the very end
Spoiler
truth or lies don’t matter, only that one feelsSpoiler
Jal is betraying his best friend with the guy’s wife. If they’d all agreed upfront on a poly relationship I would have been on board, but this brought Jal back full circle—no, a step worse. On the first page of the first book, he’s having fun with Lisa in spite of her obnoxious brother who sees her only as chattel to be married off, but this is worse, because now he and Lisa are cheating on Jal’s best friend.*[Pedant’s corner: though I hope the copyeditor will learn that sink—a verb that showed up a lot—is sank in the past tense, and sunk only in the perfect tenses.]