Book Review: The King's Gold by Arturo Perez Reverte

This summer, I studied in Italy for two-weeks. On the weekend, a classmate and I visited the Cinque Terre by train. It's a wondrous place that even great pictures can't do justice:

The northernmost town of the Cinque Terre is Monterosso al Mare, a Mediterranean resort town. While we wandered the ristorantes and hotels, I searched for something to read on the long train ride back to Asolo. I checked one news shop, then another. In a last-ditch effort, I scanned a beach-front store with a small shelf of English language books. Tucked in the far corner I discovered The King's Gold by Arturo Perez Reverte, the fourth novel in the Captain Alatriste series, which I adore.

So, I had a bizarrely continental experience reading an English translation of a Spanish adventure novel while travelling by train in Italy. It was a comfort on a lonely train ride back through the Italian countryside and industry towns.

The book reads rapidly. It's a scoundrel's adventure where Captain Alatriste works a secret mission for the king to intercept a treasure galleon. His youthful sidekick narrator, Inigo, grows up a bit on the adventure as he watches and learns from a cadre of criminals Alatriste enlists to complete the job. They fight, and some die, in the climactic assault on the beached ship. There's the flamboyant bon vivant, the brute, the ultimately cowardly swindler. And yet, once again, Perez Reverte creates a fleeting sense of sympathy for the underside of Spanish society, doomed to ugly fates by the corrupt and powerful.

Nestled among the rogue's heist are Inigo's blindly brave love for Angélica de Alquézar, the beautiful and devious daughter of one of Alatriste's key enemies. She teases and entraps Inigo, who senses her dangerous intentions, but dives in smitten anyway. In a key scene, he dares to face his killers alone at her behest, accepting it as a noble death. Of course, Alatriste intervenes and even Angélica is impressed by Inigo's bravery.

These moments of poetic nobility by the commoners, thugs and hopeless romantics are the series in a nutshell. Perez Reverte keeps up the swashbuckling goodness and slighly melodramatic flair for a constantly amusing string of adventure yarns. The King's Gold is a blunter force in the series, but entertaining nonetheless.

The King's Gold by Arturo Perez Reverte: B

Book Review: The Earthsea Trilogy by Ursula LeGuin

I've had worn, paperback copies of the Earthsea trilogy on my shelf for some time now. I picked them up used, happy to discover the trio of yellowing books. They seem even now emblematic of a fantasy trilogy much loved by some, overlooked by many.

So, I made them my summer read this year, snuck in between my jaunt to Europe, sneaking away with my wife for our anniversary, and tagging along with our family vacation to Tennessee. 

In my effort to catch up here on my blog, I'll review them in brief, collectively. It's an endearing trilogy, presented simply but with deeper resonance, as few writers like LeGuin can do. 

The trilogy begins with A Wizard of Earthsea, the coming-of-age tale of Ged, a natural-born wizard who somewhat predictably suffers for his own pride. LeGuin lays the groundwork for her fabulous fables here. Ged learns along with the reader the nature of magic and the power of true names. In Earthsea, language is power, and wizards speak it by knowing the names of all things. Showing off, Ged delves deeper into Earthsea's underworld and wrestles literally with a shadow thing, setting off his own wandering odyssey, first fleeing then hunting the thing.

LeGuin's Earthsea is a wonderful setting. It's a vast archipelago of isles, peopled with the simple and varied cultures that LeGuin's so skilled at portraying in just a few trinkets or one or two characters. She has a knack for painting the fantastic in plain, poetic terms without seeming to stereotype. The magic is sometimes wondrous, sometimes too-plain, but the dragons are fabulous and frightening enough.

As Ged wanders the isles in his enchanted boat, he learns his lesson, and with it his power. His confrontation with the shadow thing is predictable, turning the novel into more of a fable than anything. Still, it's a beautifully written fable, and LeGuin's prose is pitch perfect.

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula LeGuin: A-

Book two in the trilogy is The Tombs of Atuan. LeGuin shifts perspective to a young priestess named Arha in Earthseas more severe cultures in the east. She's taken from her family as a chosen one to tend a desolate conclave guarded by the cult. The conclave sits atop a labyrinthine tomb, locked by tradition in literal darkness.

The perspective shift is effective. Arha (the "eaten one") begins to question her faith's purpose from the inside while it's clear to readers the cult is severe amid a despotic regime. LeGuin successfully explores Earthsea, and she's able to tell a very different story here. The traditions are strange and limiting. The questions raised relevant to any reader who's pondered the role of religion. 

Of course, Ged shows up to cause trouble in seeking a lost treasure in the labyrinth. At first Arha's captive, Ged befriends her and the two conspire against the traditions of the old gods. 

Still, it's Arha's tale throughout, and her liberation's bittersweet. While LeGuin pulls of a new tale in the same world, the telling's dark, and more than a little forced. The effect is a much darker, but also colder tale.

The Tombs of Athuan by Ursula LeGuin: C+

Finally, Ged's journey comes full circle in The Farthest Shore. The narrative takes a familiar shape -- LeGuin shifts perspective again to Lebannen, a prince from the north islands with a knack for speaking and bravery, but no wizardry. He brings to Ged, who now serves as the head wizard of the isles, rumors of magic failing across the lands. 

So, the two set out alone to discover the hole in the world that's destroying the power of magic. Once again, LeGuin lays on thick the fable qualities of the novels. They hop from one people to the next of devolved settlements struck dumb by the lack of helpful wizardry. And, with it, obsessions about immortal life.

Ged observes much, and bonds with Lebannen, who predicably -- again too predictably -- becomes the brave hero at Ged's side. They drift with people who live entirely on the sea, skulk in cities laid low with greed, and ally with the eldest dragons to confront the expanding "nothing" destroying magic in wizards' minds.

Despite that predictable quality, the bond between characters is genuine. And, Ged's greatest moments suitably noble as he confronts a villainous wizard with understanding rather than power. LeGuin complete's Ged's saga well. Throughout, she makes the most of her superbly tidy prose and wonderful world.

The Farthest Shore by Ursula LeGuin: B+

Back to basics

I just got back from a work trip. Three hours of driving is plenty for my mind to wander.

So, I decided it's high time I post something, anything here.

I recently got my graduate degree. I started a new job. And, a new hobby. Almost three months later, I'm busy as hell with work and family life. I need to get back to basics with my leisure time, and that includes this blog. Lots of my old activities and hobbies feel like a slog.

I think that's because I don't do a good job getting involved with others. You need allies. People who are enthused about the things you're enthused about, who multiply your enthusiasm. My frustrations subtract instead.

I plan on spending this weekend clearing my metaphorical slate. From there, it's appreciating that things I'm interested in doing take many steps, lots of effort, and patience.