Welcome to the September 2010 issue of the Musings of the Othar.  It’s back to school here, although many of you may still have a few more days of summer left and a long Labor Day weekend to look forward to.

This month’s Feature Article will be examining Naomi Novik’s His Majesty’s Dragon.  If you like fantasy novels and dragons, then I have little doubt you will like this wonderful book.  More on this can be found in the Feature Article.

The Fayersae Histories continue this month, and we have our final scene with Bran Northmon.  I hope you have enjoyed this brief look at Bran, Findian, Oltcynn and a young Avanian.  Next month will shift into a new set of characters, so stay tuned.  For those who may have missed an episode or two, the previous month’s installments can always be found online in the Full Fayersae Histories Archive.

The Short Review this month will be taking a look at Elizabeth Mock’s Shatter, the first book in her The Children of Man series.  This was a very enjoyable read, and I’m looking forward to the follow-ups as Mock has laid a strong foundation for her series.

I’d like to remind everyone again that the web site for Animus of Hauden, book two in the Harmony of the Othar Saga is up; please visit Animus of Hauden if you haven’t had the chance yet.

Also, I would like to remind everyone that print and eBook versions of Animus of Hauden are available from all the major online retailers.  As always, look for any announcements via my Facebook page or check the web site for periodical updates.  If you haven’t had a chance to read the first in the series, Heart of Hauden, free eBook downloads can be found at Smashwords.

I have listed a book giveaway for Heart of Hauden on Goodreads through Labor Day, so if you haven’t entered yet, you can do so here: Book Giveaway.  If 1000+ entries are received by closing, I will also include a copy of Animus of Hauden.  Good luck!

I reformatted all versions of my e-books this month, tidying up some of the formatting and line feeds between the front matter and chapter headings.  I also added table of content information to the Kindle versions, and corrected a few typos that had been pointed out to me by readers.  This is the one nice thing about e-books; you can make these types of modifications easily by simply uploading new content files.  This is definitely an advantage over print versions.

Anyway, this summarizes another busy month.  I hope you enjoy this month’s installment of the Musing of the Othar.

Yours Truly

P.A. Seasholtz, Editor

This month’s Feature Article will be examining Naomi Novik’s His Majesty’s Dragon, and this review may be the easiest I have written to date because I can find no faults with Novik’s novel.  If you are a fantasy fan, you will want to read this book, especially since I assume most fantasy fans have a soft spot for dragons, and Temeraire is much more than your typical talking dragon – Smaug has nothing on this guy, by the way.  Among his many abilities, Temeraire reads, learns calculus, loves music, and is a compassionate companion with a humble yet powerful personality that earns the respect of humans and dragons alike.  So to summarize right here at the beginning of the article, I highly recommend reading His Majesty’s Dragon in order to meet one of the most engaging dragons ever penned.

Now Novik’s work could be recommended on the strength of Temeraire’s character alone, but she managed to create a strong cast of supporting characters, not least of which is Captain Laurence.  By adding Laurence and an extremely interesting story that takes place in Britain during the Napoleonic Wars, she has created a near perfect novel that is well written, tight in scope and shows great depth of its two main characters.  The twist that adds dragons to the fighting forces of the British and French is brilliant, and the added dimension of overlaying aerial combat forces on top of the navel forces moves the Siege of Britain roughly a hundred and thirty years earlier.  We simply substitute heavy dragons for bombers, and smaller more agile dragons for fighter and support planes.  But of course, our aerial forces are not mere machines, but intelligent living beings with engaging personalities; even the “simple” Volly is an endearing dragon that you will fall in love with immediately.  This personalization of the combat vehicles adds an incredible dimension to the human element of the war, and it is something I haven’t seen done quite so well since the days of Farscape and Moya.

In addition to giving us a near perfect character in Temeraire, Novik pairs him with Laurence, the gentleman captain in the Royal Navy whose life gets turned upside down after he puts Temeraire to harness.  What I found most interesting with Laurence wasn’t that he accepted this life-changing event with a high degree of honor and a great commitment to duty, it was that he never allowed it to completely change the man he was.  He adapts and bends as he trades the gentlemanly Royal Navy for the coarser and less respected Aerial Corps, but he remains a gentleman despite his altered circumstances.  He never becomes overbearing in an attempt to impose his views on his new comrades in the Corps, nor does he allow them to fundamentally change who he is.  He is patient and fair, always leading by example, and he allows time to slowly adjust the attitudes of both himself and his new comrades.

In many ways, Laurence becomes the epitome of a gentleman, despite being forced to give up all gentlemanly pursuits and associations.  I think one of my favorite scenes is his initial struggle to simply address Captain Harcourt properly as he fights to drop the “Miss” from her title; however, the shock of seeing her in “breeches” does slowly fade, and the friendship and respect that evolves is a testament to his open mindedness and tolerance.  By the time Captain Roland enters the picture, he has shed all of his prejudices and misconceptions regarding the Aerial Corps, yet he retains his dignity, honor and a commitment to duty that never seems rigid or misplaced.  By the end of His Majesty’s Dragon, Laurence has elevated himself to become Temeraire’s equal, both in comport and temperament, and they become a perfect match, exemplifying everything we come to expect from people of “high character”.

I haven’t read any of the sequels to His Majesty’s Dragon, but I wonder how they can compare, given that much of the beauty of the first novel is watching Temeraire and Laurence grow as a team to become something greater than the sum of their parts.  I suspect the follow-ups are more action packed, and are not without their plot twists and turns, but I’m pretty sure the initial introduction of Temeraire and Laurence cannot be replicated.  Because of this, I am quite willing to let His Majesty’s Dragon stand on its own as a solid work requiring no sequel.  Sure, I have the desire for the story continue so I can become enmeshed in new adventures of Temeraire and Laurence, but His Majesty’s Dragon is more than strong enough to stand on its own, and I can recommend His Majesty’s Dragon without reservation.  If you are a fan of fantasy, this almost becomes a must read in my opinion.

Fayersae Histories

Second Battle of Jent

Chapter 12

Bran pounded his arms with gloved hands and stomped his feet, more to stay awake than to fight off the cold.  The storm and the winds had finally lifted just before daybreak, and he squinted against a bright winter sky as he surveyed the long narrow valley below him.  The white snow was patched by hundreds of gray tents, and the blue sky was lined by the black wisps of smoke from an equal number of small fires.  Most of the wagons and carts had been unloaded, and they were finally idle, parked beside hastily repaired storage barns and corrals where the exhausted dray horses huddled.

None of the men looked or felt any better than the horses, but after a week of fighting the early snow, three other valleys like this one were now ready to house the armies that were converging on the Pass.  The road leading into the mountains from the plains below the Pass had been cleared of drifts and ice, and barring another strong winter storm, they would not have any difficulty keeping it clear throughout the winter.

Bran failed to suppress a deep yawn, and shaking his head, he turned back to the command tents on the rise overlooking this valley.  Oltcynn sat slumped in a camp chair, his bleary eyes staring at the flames that fought with the damp wood, and he didn’t cough or blink as wafts of sooty smoke drifted past him on the light breeze.  Bran had dismissed him hours ago, but the boy had insisted on being present when Altan was to arrive around midday.  Bran had let him stay, hoping a warm breakfast would drive some of the weariness from their bones lest they both succumb to exhaustion.

He stayed standing beside the fire, shaking off a single servant that beckoned him to sit, knowing that if he did, he would be unlikely to rise again.  Wearily, the man continued prepping their meal, and if Bran hadn’t been so tired, he’d have dismissed him and taken care of the meal himself.  He jerked his head up, blinking dumbly after realizing that he’d nodded off where he stood.

“My Lord,” the man repeated, holding a steaming mug.

Bran rubbed his face and grunted a thank you as he took the strong tea.  The aroma of crackling bacon stirred his appetite, although the long pull of the hot liquid had long ago ceased to revive him.  He drank anyway, letting the hot brew warm him.  A horse snorted as it struggled up the last few paces to the ridge, and he turned just as the Quartermaster dismounted.  The horse stood where he left it, and there was no fear that it would wander off since it was as exhausted as the man it had just carried up the slope.  Besides, Bran had sent all the stable hands to bed a few hours ago.

“The last wagons have been parked and unloaded,” he reported, confirming what Bran had witnessed from the top of the ridge throughout the morning.  “Triumon Ealder’s entire host is now safely in the Pass, having taken up positions in the first two camps.”

Bran nodded as the Quartermaster slumped into a chair next to Oltcynn.  The snow had limited their space, and the camps would soon grow crowded with his sister approaching from the plains and Segan approaching from their rear.

“Lord Altan is about a half hour behind me,” the Quartermaster added, taking an offered mug of tea.

Bran just nodded again.

Their hot breakfast was served, and they ate, mechanically, in silence.  Additional servants emerged from prepping the tents, and when they began to pile more wood upon the fire and clear away the breakfast, Bran finally dismissed them all, just as he had done to the guard a few hours earlier.  None of these men had slept properly in days, and like the guard, they left, being too tired to insist that they stay attentive to their duties.

The neighing of horses below announced Altan’s arrival, and Bran turned back to the ridge as Altan motioned for the half dozen guards in his entourage to continue into the camp.  Altan climbed the steep path to the command tents and dismounted, leaving his horse next to the Quartermaster’s.

He strode up to the fire as the Quartermaster and Oltcynn pulled themselves out of the camp chairs.  Altan’s clean clothing matched his well rested appearance, both in stark contrast to the dirty bedraggled group in front of him.  All three knew they had done their jobs well if the rest of the soldiers were as fresh as Altan.

“Get some sleep, boy,” Altan barked, shaking his head.  “You too,” he said to the Quartermaster.  “There are a hundred men and servants following me into this valley.  They will look after this camp until nightfall.”

Both were too tired to argue their dismissal, and the Quartermaster made a tired bow before turning to his tent.  Oltcynn hesitated for a moment.

“Take some well deserved rest,” Bran said.  “I’ll have you woken around midday.”

Oltcynn made a slight bow and shuffled away, following the Quartermaster.

“You seem to have tempered his pride,” Altan said, moving to stand nearer the warmth of the fire.

“Hard work will do that,” Bran said.

“His mother chafes at this assignment,” Altan said, ignoring the implied insult.  “She insists that he return to the battle group.”

“As you wish,” Bran said.  “Your nephew has done your House credit, however.  Northmon is honored to have had his assistance.  He’s earned the respect of these men with his quick thinking and eagerness to lend a hand.   The Quartermaster has taught him more than being a raw recruit on the battlefield ever will.  Fighting the Dasyu is no place for a boy.”

“His mother thinks otherwise,” Altan said, leaving little doubt that he felt the same way.

Even if he had not been too tired to exert the effort, Bran knew this was an argument he could not win.  It was clear that Altan and his mother viewed this assignment beneath the boy’s station, and it had been done only as a reprimand for his earlier insubordination.  The lesson of earning respect through hard work and leading via example had not been the point, regardless of how well Oltcynn had esteemed himself.  Still, Bran found himself speaking his mind.

“He should stay with the Quartermaster,” he said.  “Your nephew has a quick mind and a head for organization.  He is also an extremely able horseman.  His place is here.”

“He will carry a sword at his hip and longbow across his back, and stand beside his mother,” Altan said sharply, ending the discussion as Bran had expected.

“What’s the news from Torbod?” Bran asked, changing the subject.

“Worse,” Altan said.  “The countryside is in flames and the number of Dasyu assaulting Torbod is in the tens of thousands.  The beaches are black with their longships.”

Bran was too tired to even frown at that report.  This was the full scale Dasyu invasion that they had feared, and although Torbod would not be in any danger of falling, the surrounding area would be razed to the ground.

“Any word from my sister?” he asked.

Altan shook his head.

“We’ve received nothing from Segan’s advance detachment at this end of the Pass either,” Bran said.  “Westermon is still idle, I presume.”

“Westermon will hold their coast and cities,” Altan said.  “Nothing more.  There are rumors that Haelanhon is reluctantly mustering.  Cettan is said to be marching straight for Torbod.”

This news did surprise Bran, both its announcement and boldness.  He had expected Haelanhon to send limited forces that would march with Segan, and he had assumed Cettan was already in Torbod with Fyrian and their infant son, Baran.  The reserved and cautious Haelanhon Ealder would not easily yield up his armies to his youngest son, regardless of Cettan’s surprising marriage to Fyrian Bruchmon that had made him sire to the heirs of that House.

“If this news is true, then it may be enough to drive the Dasyu from the walls of Torbod and do what Westermon would not,” Bran said.

“Sending them more quickly here,” Altan said.  “Any relief for Torbod must be properly timed or we will be overrun here.  We cannot allow the Dasyu into these mountains; Triumon cannot allow that.”

“Then it is fortunate that the Dasyu must first subdue Bruchmon to keep those hosts from pursuing them from behind when they make their inevitable march here,” Bran said.

He knew the importance of protecting what lay hidden in these mountains, even if Triumon refused to speak of it.  He was Bran Northmon, leader of that House, and as such, Fayersae made sure he knew what was required of a great House, even though many years lay before him before he attained the stature and title of Ealder.

For information on Heart of Hauden, Book One of the Harmony of the Othar Saga, please visit www.heartofhauden.com.

This month, time was spent fine tuning e-Book formats for both Smashwords and Kindle.  The major issue always seems to revolve around line feeds, or lack there of, as the programs that convert the text often “eat” line feeds.  Simply applying line feeds in the base Word documents is never enough to preserve the formatting in front material or around chapter headings.  I used two approaches for Smashwords and Kindle that I’ll outline here.

First, I’d like to thank Cheryl Anne Gardner for her post on Smashwords formatting that can be found here: http://podpeep.blogspot.com/2010/08/fuzzy-after-vacation-thoughts-on-final.html.  Her research/solution to use the spacing formatting for paragraphs in Word was spot on, and worked perfectly.  Both the ePub and Kindle versions of the Smashwords output looked very nice after applying 12, 18 and 24 pt paragraph spacing where necessary.  Front matter and chapter headings looked respectable, and I also found that page breaks between chapters, which I prefer, were honored by the Smashwords meta-grinder.  I also followed the Smashwords style guide very diligently, also using their recommendations for setting up table of contents links, which I also like to see in all the e-Books I read.  The end result was a much better product than I’d previously achieved.

Kindle formatting was a little more involved, and I’ll outline my steps for getting decent looking documents there as well.  First, I highly recommend using Mobipocket Creator.  Google and download it before you even start prepping your Kindle documents.

I started with my base Smashwords document, changing the Licensing wording slightly before using the Import feature in Mobipocket to create my html file.  I then added the cover and metadata information, but there is one more step to take before letting Mobipocket build the Kindle file, which involves a little html editing.  I recommend getting an html editor since attempting to do this with notepad is an exercise in frustration.  I use Seamonkey, but again, a Google search will locate many free html editors for download.

What you’re looking to do is make sure your breaks are present, and this often requires adding <br> tags where you need them.  I also like to enhance the chapter headings with white/black reverse text, and I also think dropcaps could easily be applied as well.  Also, check to make sure the html page breaks are present, although I have found that Mobipocket does convert Word page breaks into proper html breaks.  Once you are satisfied with the html, use the Mobipocket Build utility.  Proof the output .prc file using the Kindle application for the PC, and repeat the above steps until you are satisfied with the results.  From there, follow the upload instructions from Amazon, using your final .prc file as the source, and you’ll have a nicely formatted Kindle product.

Anyway, I hope the above helps any aspiring e-Book publishers out there.  I can address questions or comments in any replies to this post.

August again saw very good progress on book three, Tongue of Hauden.   I completed about 4000 words of new material, and at this pace, I should be able to begin final edits by the end of the year.  It feels like I’m entering into the home stretch so to speak, and with the scope of the final quarter of the book outlined, the words are flowing easily and quickly now.  There is not much else to report other than this, and with a few good days and long weekends spent writing throughout the fall, I should remain on schedule for an early summer 2011 release.

This month’s Short Review will be taking a look at Elizabeth Mock’s Shatter, the first book in her The Children of Man series.  As debut novels go, Mock did an excellent job in Shatter, and once I got settled into her world and characters, I really enjoyed it.  I felt that the plot got stronger and tighter as it progressed, and whether this was due to the story coming into better focus for Mock and the reader, or to Mock’s evolving craft, I don’t know; I suspect, however, that it is a combination of the two.  I enjoyed her use of “color” magic, and the demarcation of abilities between her characters and the ordering of society around those colors.  I especially liked her concept of “poppers” and “steppers”, which of course made Sheridan and Kade all the more interesting.

Shatter does take awhile to settle into, however, especially with the number of characters, place names and all the traveling the characters are doing, although I was reading an eBook version without the benefit of a map so I had to rely on Mock’s writing alone to give me a sense of perspective, direction and relationship between places.  I love fantasy maps, and I use them to locate events and relativity, so in a way, I felt handicapped without a map since travel and destination were so integral to the plot in Shatter.  However, once the cast all came together, this issue vanished; and once Mireya reentered the story, the cast and plot are well enough established that the story progresses very nicely, even though I never quite had the perspective of location soundly engrained.  As an aside, I’d like to admit that I did not make the connection between the prologue and Mireya’s reintroduction to the story right away, although this is no fault of Mock’s.

Speaking of Mireya, I fell in love with her character immediately upon her reintroduction, and as the latter half of the story progressed, this only grew stronger.  I’m definitely looking forward to the sequel so I can read more scenes with Mireya.

There was one thing that did take me awhile to realize in the story, and it perhaps occurred later than it should have.  I had the impression that the characters were much older than they really were, and it did cause a disconnect between their dialog and action at times.  Once I came to realize that much of the cast was younger than I’d initially thought, motivations and actions started making much more sense.

So to summarize, I think Mock has written an interesting debut novel in her The Children of Man series that will only get better with the next installment.  Follow the link below to her Smashwords page and have a look for yourself.  I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.

Mock’s bibliography can be found here: Smashwords

This month’s subject is: If you had to pick one color, and one color only, for an aspect of your writing, which one would it be and why?

I think the “one color” hasn’t been strictly adhered to, so I’m going to tackle this from the perspective of two of my main characters.  I’ve purposely left out any pictures of my colors, leaving their nuance to the imagination.

Blonhaft

Blonhaft is the color Khaki.  Thinking clothing here only gets you so far.  Yes, comfort and easy-wear come to mind, but Khaki is also rugged and durable when it needs to be.  It is a complicated color that has a lot more going on beneath the surface than meets the eye.

Take the Merriam-Webster definition for instance: Khaki, a light yellowish brown that is yellower and duller than walnut brown, yellower and less strong than cinnamon, and duller and slightly yellower than manila or fallow.

There is a wide degree of interpretation here that defies easy labeling.  He remains difficult to define even to those closest to him.

“Your friendship with him is still one of the oddest I know of,” Breanne said.  “You are so different.”

“Are we?” Blonhaft asked.

“He is so serious, so earnest.  You are,” she said before pausing.

“What, not serious?” he asked.

“Perhaps more thoughtful; maybe even more carefree,” she said wiggling closer to him for warmth.

Yes, always the carefree younger brother, he thought.  He didn’t move when she curled her head onto his shoulder.

And this provides a nice segue to our next character.

Breanne

Breanne is the color Slate.  Now here, as before, thinking narrowly only gets you so far.  Yes, Slate brings to mind hardness, or a brittle edge, but we also have “clean slate” and a “blank slate”.  Breanne is at times hard and edgy, but she is also not easy to read like the blank slate.

Again, from Merriam-Webster: Slate, a dark purplish gray that is bluer and deeper than pigeon, redder, lighter, and stronger than charcoal, and bluer and darker than taupe gray.

So like Blonhaft, there is more than meets the eye here.  I’ll leave you with a description of Breanne’s eyes, which coincidently, are gray, along with a few other short passages.

They were wide and gray, an unnatural gray that tended to neither black nor a lighter hue of blue.  Since she seldom smiled or frowned, everything she wished to reveal was transferred to those eyes as they squinted, widened, glared or softened depending upon her immediate mood.

…

“Don’t,” Blonhaft said to Breanne as her eyes flashed at Scipan’s back.  “His disrespect is legendary.  Ignore him.”

“One day, he will go too far,” Breanne said.

“Your grandfather tolerated him because he is the finest shipwright in the realm.  Ashaer has chosen to tolerate him for the same reason,” Blonhaft said.

“As I said, one day he may find himself working for someone who isn’t as tolerant,” she said.

…

“You know Ashaer’s commitment to your mother and the House of Fayersae is absolute,” he said.

Finally, anger darkened her reflection in the water.

“This is an odd way to show it,” she snapped as her eyes became needle sharp.  “Ever since my mother arrived on Hauden, all her energy has been directed toward unifying the white man and the red man.  Ashaer has gone too far here,” she said, jumping to her feet.

Well, that’s it.  I hope you’ve enjoyed this little exercise as much as I have.  Happy writing and reading!

—————

The super summery participants of the August Coloring Blog Chain are:
Aheïla: http://thewriteaholicblog.wordpress.com and direct link to her post
Ralph_Pines: http://ralfast.wordpress.com/ and direct link to her post
AuburnAssassin: http://clairegillian.wordpress.com/ and direct link to her post
semmie: http://semmie.wordpress.com/ and direct link to her post
Anarchicq: http://anarchicq.com/ and direct link to her post
CScottMorris: http://www.cscottmorrisbooks.com/ and direct link to his post
PASeasholtz: http://www.paseasholtz.com/
LadyMage: http://www.katherinegilraine.com/
orion_mk3: http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com/
DavidZahir: http://zahirblue.blogspot.com/
aimeelaine: http://www.aimeelaine.com/writing/blog
Alpha_Echo: http://writersramblings81.blogspot.com/
FreshHell: http://freshhell.wordpress.com/
sbclark: http://sonyaclark.blogspot.com/

Welcome to the August 2010 issue of the Musings of the Othar.  As usual, a busy summer has gone by much too fast, but I hope everyone has found time to squeeze in a vacation and catch up on their reading.  This month’s Feature Article will be examining Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell.  Winner of the 2005 Hugo Award, Clarke’s novel may not appeal to all readers, but without a doubt, this lengthy novel will keep you occupied for a few weeks. More on this can be found in the Feature Article.

The Fayersae Histories continue this month, and our scene shifts back to Bran and Oltcynn as they battle a winter storm at the Jent Pass.  For those who may have missed an episode or two, the previous month’s installments can always be found online in the Full Fayersae Histories Archive.

I am pleased to announce that I have added two new columns this month.

The first will be Clarice Publishing Update, where I will provide updates pertaining to my publishing and marketing efforts.  I also hope to summarize some of the technical details that may be of interest to other independent publishers who are trying to find their way through the maze of information out there.

The second new column will be one that I hope does not prove to be too ambitious.  I have titled it Short Review, and my goal is to provide a space to highlight independent authors who may need a little more exposure.  As this increases my reading and review commitment, I’m not sure I will be able to do a monthly installment, but I will do my best.  The first Short Review will be taking a look at Nicola Rhodes’ SCI’ON – The Shadow Worlds, an entertaining and page-turning story that was the perfect compliment to a sunny weekend spent outdoors.

I’d like to remind everyone again that the web site for Animus of Hauden, book two in the Harmony of the Othar Saga is up; please visit Animus of Hauden if you haven’t had the chance yet.

Also, I would like to remind everyone that print and eBook versions of Animus of Hauden are available from all the major online retailers.  As always, look for any announcements via my Facebook page or check the web site for periodical updates.  If you haven’t had a chance to read the first in the series, Heart of Hauden, free eBook downloads can be found at Smashwords.

I was very pleased with the progress I made on book three, Tongue of Hauden, this month.  While it always seems like the days just fly by, I have been working very hard to stay disciplined.  The hardest part has been finding more lengthy uninterrupted blocks of time to write.  Utilizing a free half hour here and there, while productive and fine for edits, often is a little too disjointed to lay down new material.  Also, taking a weekend day for a mental break after a long week is often necessary, but does shorten an already full schedule even more.

Anyway, this summarizes a very busy month.  I hope you enjoy this month’s installment of the Musing of the Othar, and if your summer reading list isn’t already too long, please check out book two in the Harmony of the Othar Saga, Animus of Hauden.

Yours Truly

P.A. Seasholtz, Editor

This month’s Feature Article will be examining Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.  Winner of the 2005 Hugo Award, Clarke’s novel may not appeal to all readers, and I think that of all the books I have reviewed here, this one really comes down to individual taste.  Rather than recommending it, or advising you to stay away from it, the best advice I can give is to try it and judge for yourself.

In many ways, it becomes difficult to even classify Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell as a fantasy novel, at least not in any traditional sense.  A more accurate description might be a historical 19^th century British literature novel with an overlay of magic.  On top of that, Clarke went out of her way to write the novel as if it were penned in the 19^th century.  This latter fact is enough to turn off many readers.  If you enjoy the slower pace of this type of literature, then Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell will be a much easier read; if your fantasy requirements require a faster paced page-turning read, then this book is definitely not for you.

My emphasis in college was 19^th century literature, and there is always a novel from this period on my reading list.  I am currently rereading Thackeray’s Vanity Fair, which coincidentally has a similar voice and style to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, so I was not put off by Clarke’s choice to pen the novel in this style.  I simply accepted the very slow pace and kept reading.  I will admit, however, that at times the plot seemed to grind to a standstill, and I would be remiss if I didn’t admit that large sections of Clarke’s work were boring.

In many ways, it is a shame that Clarke produced such a long slow reading book.  The concept of two magicians striving to return magic to England during the Napoleonic wars is intriguing.  Her depth of research and period accuracy are flawless, and her dialog is witty and always engaging.  Of course, without these, the work would have been an utter failure, but at times, they were not enough to carry the story forward to satisfy my appetite for meaningful action.  Wading through six hundred and fifty pages to reach the climatic last one hundred is a lot to ask from your readers.  By the time many readers reach this point in the novel, I suspect that they are exhausted and not that emotionally invested in the characters, particularly Strange and Norrell.  Add to that a protagonist whose motivations never seemed quite clear, and you do have a novel in which it becomes difficult to get emotionally attached to; indiscriminate and pointless violence does not make for a very interesting protagonist.  By the end, the only thing I really cared about was if Arabella would be rescued or not, seeing as she was the only “real” character left by that time, and the only one I had any sympathy for.

However, to be fair to Clarke, you really were not supposed to like Norrell, and in many ways, Childermass is the more interesting character, perhaps more so than even Strange.  Her cast of secondary characters are pretty strong, again without which the novel would have been a complete failure.  There were, however, three areas were I felt Clarke didn’t succeed very well.

The first is structural, and it is the use of her footnotes at the end of each chapter.  Often, these footnotes were longer than the chapter itself, which proved to be distracting rather than providing the depth she was looking for.  At first, I was willing to give her a pass on the footnotes because I was reading the eBook version which made it extremely difficult to flip backwards to see what the footnote was referencing, but after awhile, they simply became a distraction that added nothing to the story other than showing off her ability to concoct six hundred years of history.

The second area I felt was a little flawed was the contradiction between the lack of magic in England and Strange’s incredible feats while in Spain with Lord Wellington.  Given Strange’s lack of knowledge and his inability to access any of Norrell’s books, I found this a little unbelievable, especially when he seemed to be doing magic to a degree much more advanced than the historical magicians he and Norrell were trying to emulate.  Once you have the ability to move mountain ranges, rivers and cities, I’m not sure what else there is left to achieve.  Granted, part of the premise was to return magic to the masses in England, and Strange had not yet done that, but there was still a bit of a disconnect here regarding the proportion and scale of his achievements in Spain.

The last area I had a little bit of difficulty with was perhaps minor, and it is certainly open to debate regarding its relevance.  I had a little difficulty believing that Norrell and Strange wouldn’t have been able to “connect the dots” a little better.  At least Clarke was consistent here, since at the end, Norrell and Strange still had no idea who their protagonist really was and how they had actually defeated him.  However, Norrell knew the bargain he had struck resurrecting Lady Pole, and even though he was a selfish insipid man not prone to admitting a mistake, I just had a hard time accepting that he wouldn’t have made the connection.  True, Strange did know who he was fighting to free Arabella, but it still did not feel like enough of a conflict to satisfy me.

So to summarize, I’d have to give Clarke a middling grade here on Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.  It is a lengthy, well written book, with a unique and very interesting concept, and her depth of research and period accuracy is very good.  Her dialog is witty and on point, particularly for the period.  Had an editor cut the footnotes and chopped two hundred pages, I think she would have had a much better book.  As an aside, I have seen others suggesting that this story should have been broken into a series of three books.  I disagree with this since I don’t think book two and three would have been purchased by too many people after reading the first third of the story.

Fayersae Histories

Second Battle of Jent

Chapter 11

Bran rubbed his neck, hiding his irritation behind a tired expression, and he caught himself before he yelled at the men in the ravine below him, lest the same irritation sharpen his words.  The weather was no fault of these men, and although the dray horses of Triumon were as used to ice, snow and steep climbs as any in the realm, cajoling them into the Jent Pass under these conditions had shortened the tempers of both man and horse.  Now, in addition to a winter storm and a treacherous climb, they had the added delay of this accident slowing them down.

A cart had slid off the narrow road and overturned, hobbling the two horses attached to it before sending its contents tumbling down into the ravine.  The horses had fought nobly to save themselves and the cart from going over the edge, and despite their panic, they would have hung on until a new team had been roped to the cart.  Bran had quickly ordered the cart cut loose over the sickening screams of the lamed horses, sacrificing the cart so the animals could be put out of their misery without delay; however, losing the cart and horses had not mattered as much as losing the tents it had been carrying.  Bran yelled again to the men, trying to encourage them to hurry rather than berate them.

“Find as many as you can,” he bellowed against the gusting wind and swirling snow at the barely visible torches below.  “Don’t get careless; no man’s life should be traded for those tents.”

Had the cart been carrying anything else, he would never have risked lives or slowed the caravan by retrieving them; however, shelter was already in short supply, and when the Northmon and Fayersae hosts joined them, that situation would only worsen.  With the cold of winter having already descended on them with this early winter storm, he knew that the tents had become as important as firewood if they were going to survive.

Another bundle of ropes was dumped behind him as the creek of a passing cart and the slipping of hooves on the ice brought another round of angry shouts from the men struggling to pass on this narrow section of the road.

“Keep moving,” he yelled angrily as men jumped to calm the horses and assist in pushing the cart.

Their footing was no surer than the horses, but with their added weight, the cart lurched by him and made it safely to the more level ground beyond this twist of road.  He checked his own shortened temper; he knew they should have waited until the carts had passed before crowding this section of the road with more men to retrieve the tents.  Again, like the weather, his hasty decision was not the fault of these men.

He started uncoiling the rope so it could be fed to the men in the ravine as Oltcynn came over the crest leading a dray horse that had been unhitched further down the road.  Another cart lurched up behind him, and just as the horses started to slide and panic, Oltcynn jumped in front of the nearest horse, quickly grabbing the bridle.  He strong-armed the horse, pulling violently on the bit as the crack of a whip and the shouts from the driver kept the horses moving.  Bran corralled the horse Oltcynn had abandoned before it could back down the road into the next oncoming cart.  Oltcynn returned when the current wagon had cleared this treacherous portion of the road.

“Six more,” Oltcynn said.  “The rest have been stopped and are reasonably safe.  Tempers are flaring as the carts bunch below us,” he added.

“Your quick thinking got them stopped before more were committed to this climb,” Bran said.  “At least one of us made a prudent quick decision.  Let them argue.  They may be cold but they’re safe.  After we get these tents pulled out of the ravine, you can have them come up one at a time with extra bodies to assist.  Here,” he said handing a pair of rope ends to Oltcynn.  “Tie them to the harness.  Let’s get these tents hauled up before another cart slides off the road and knocks all of us into the ravine.”

He took the other ends of the ropes, and with a shout, he flung them down into the ravine.  Another cart rolled past them with enough extra men to assist the horses, and as more men returned from the upper portion of the road to help with the remaining carts that had already started the steep climb and could not be stopped, Bran knew the danger of another one sliding off the road was past.  All they needed to do was quickly retrieve the tents so the rest of the caravan could finish the climb before conditions worsened and stranded them on this mountainside.

With the help of the horse, he and Oltcynn started pulling the tents out of the ravine in twos and threes. As the time between shouts from below lengthened, he knew the men searching the ravine had likely found all of the tents that they could in the dark.  They had recovered about half, and he yelled down to the men to give up the search.  One-by-one, the weary men were pulled out of the ravine.

“Good work,” Bran said after the last of them had been pulled up to the road, feeling as tired and cold as these men looked.

None of them had slept for nearly two days as they had fought to stay ahead of the storm and get a base camp prepared before Altan’s hosts arrived.  It was turning out to have been imprudent to have taken a third of the supply caravan into the pass under these conditions rather than staying on the open plateau with the Quartermaster and the rest of the army.  Once the storm had released its full fury, however, it had been impossible to turn back as the snow had piled in the valleys below them.  Bran knew all they had done was separate much needed supplies from the main host since it would now be many days before the rest could make the climb into the pass.

“I had the lead cart that is waiting below emptied,” Oltcynn said, interrupting Bran’s tired reflections.  “I’ll signal for it to be brought up.  You three with me,” he said to a group of men.  “Let’s get that cart up here so we can all get out of this pass.  I’ve had men from the back of the lines move up to assist each cart,” he said to Bran.  ”It will slow us a bit, but we should still finish the climb by dawn.”

Bran nodded as Oltcynn moved off; the boy’s judgment was sound.  He was thankful that over the weeks, the young man had accepted his role overseeing the supply caravans and had shed his overbearing attitude.  He was young and seemed undaunted by the conditions, and Bran had to remind himself that these mountains were the same imposing peaks where the boy had grown up in the halls of Triumon.  Wind, ice and snow were nothing new for him and these men, and Bran knew that it was he who was out of place here.  He wondered, with a bit of chagrin, if Oltcynn would have ordered them into the mountains under these conditions, or if his Triumon instincts to respect the elements would have provided wiser council had he asked for the boy’s advice before rashly committing them all to this folly.

“Let’s stack the tents there,” Bran pointed, knowing there was nothing to be done now but press on.

He grabbed the heavy wet canvas of a tent and began dragging it toward the road.

The exhausted men followed suit, and although all of them had become accustomed to Bran working as hard as any common laborer, all of them were grateful for the Lord of Northmon’s assistance; he was just as tired, wet, and cold as they were, but his invigorating determination pushed them all past normal endurance.   Besides, these men knew if they did not get out of the pass soon, they would die here.

The wet tents were moved away from the ravine, but the men had little time to rest before the empty wagon came over the crest in the road.  Bran was the first to move and lift a heavy tent up to Oltcynn and the waiting men on the cart.  Wearily, they loaded the cart as the snow fell harder and the wind grew stronger.

It would be many hours before they reached a safe spot to finally make camp, and as Bran looked up at the dark night sky, seeing nothing but snow, he only hoped that by dawn, conditions would not have grown so dire that getting the fires lit would prove impossible.

For information on Heart of Hauden, Book One of the Harmony of the Othar Saga, please visit www.heartofhauden.com.