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Overlooked Books
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Friday, July 8, 2016
Eragon, Chap. 6-7: Exposition for Two
When you're writing something that doesn't take place in the real world, you have to find some way to tell the audience the "rules" of the universe. There are two main ways authors do this: by directly stating what those rules are (The Hunger Games loves this) or Character A telling Character B explaining the rules. In most cases, Character B is some kind of newcomer--like Obi-Wan teaching Luke about the Force, for instance.
Most authors use a mix of both methods, which works well, but I prefer the latter. I think it helps the story flow more naturally, and helps keep the reader in the world a bit more easily. And then there are chapters like this.
Eragon goes into town, and meets with Brom the storyteller in a chapter that is nothing but exposition. Eragon, naturally, wants to learn more about dragons and the Dragon Riders, and has plenty of questions about both. The whole chapter is Eragon asking questions, and Brom giving him the answers. We learn about the history of the Riders, and more about dragons themselves. Even though I generally prefer this method of getting information to the readers, for some reason I don't like it here. I can't exactly pinpoint why. Part of it might just be that it feels lazy--Paolini couldn't figure out how to wedge all this in, so he put it here. Or maybe it's the length of the chapter that bothers me. It's pretty long--longer than the last two combined. There's not a lot of action, just a back-and-forth. I just don't like large information dumps, and I wonder if cutting out some of the details of this chapter would have helped me like it better. Of course, this is also my second time reading the book, so I already know what Brom's going to say. Obviously, this stuff isn't going to be as interesting to me the second time around.
Well, whatever. I didn't like the way the information was shoved down my throat. I also had one head-scratching moment, wherein Brom describes a war between the dragons and the elves. It was a huge war that left the land devastated, but it only lasted...five years? Okay, that's a long time for a human war, but we're talking about creatures that live for centuries. Five years seems a little short.
Moving on to the next chapter.
Chapter 7 is another unevenly short chapter, not quite four pages long. On their way back to the farm, Eragon's cousin Roran announces that he's accepted an offer of work in another town. Eragon doesn't really want Roran to leave, and suggests he wait until spring. Roran disagrees, and says he will be leaving shortly while they're waiting for winter. Even though this isn't a book about the division of farm labor, I still need to ask: where the hell are all the farmhands? It's only Roran, Eragon, and Eragon's Uncle Garrow working on the farm. How do just the three of them manage to keep it running and productive? How did Garrow and his now deceased wife manage to do it before Eragon and Roran were old enough to help? And for that matter, why doesn't Garrow have, like, ten other kids to do farm work?
It's been said that when you're writing science-fiction, you get one lie, and you have to then work within the confines of that lie. Everything else has to follow the rules. Fantasy, I think, is a little broader, but still follows that principle. f you're writing about dragons, that's fine, because dragons are mythological creatures and you can do what you want with them, as long as you follow the basic rules. Things like dragons fly, breathe something dangerous, and could kill you several times over.
Suspension of disbelief is a funny thing. I'm all for dragons and magic--that's why I picked up this book in the first place. It's the small, nagging details that bother me. You want to write about a dragon that flies and breathes fire? Cool. Go ahead. But if you're writing about something that exists in real life, that readers know about, then you have to make it realistic. Realistic details in a fantasy setting make the world plausible. It's not the fantasy elements that will drive readers away. What will turn them if is when they don't see the familiar reflected in the extraordinary.
That was kind of an unexpected rant. Anyway, the dragon was finally named "Saphira", surprising absolutely no one. First of all, she's a bright blue dragon. Second of all, you know another Saphira was important to Brom, just from the way he said it.
Anyway, moral of the story? It's cool if your main character can shoot fireballs from his hand or whatever, but if he, say...lived in the 21st Century and didn't have an email account, I would seriously have to question both the author's writing choices and their* perception of what is normal in the world.
Most authors use a mix of both methods, which works well, but I prefer the latter. I think it helps the story flow more naturally, and helps keep the reader in the world a bit more easily. And then there are chapters like this.
Eragon goes into town, and meets with Brom the storyteller in a chapter that is nothing but exposition. Eragon, naturally, wants to learn more about dragons and the Dragon Riders, and has plenty of questions about both. The whole chapter is Eragon asking questions, and Brom giving him the answers. We learn about the history of the Riders, and more about dragons themselves. Even though I generally prefer this method of getting information to the readers, for some reason I don't like it here. I can't exactly pinpoint why. Part of it might just be that it feels lazy--Paolini couldn't figure out how to wedge all this in, so he put it here. Or maybe it's the length of the chapter that bothers me. It's pretty long--longer than the last two combined. There's not a lot of action, just a back-and-forth. I just don't like large information dumps, and I wonder if cutting out some of the details of this chapter would have helped me like it better. Of course, this is also my second time reading the book, so I already know what Brom's going to say. Obviously, this stuff isn't going to be as interesting to me the second time around.
Well, whatever. I didn't like the way the information was shoved down my throat. I also had one head-scratching moment, wherein Brom describes a war between the dragons and the elves. It was a huge war that left the land devastated, but it only lasted...five years? Okay, that's a long time for a human war, but we're talking about creatures that live for centuries. Five years seems a little short.
Moving on to the next chapter.
Chapter 7 is another unevenly short chapter, not quite four pages long. On their way back to the farm, Eragon's cousin Roran announces that he's accepted an offer of work in another town. Eragon doesn't really want Roran to leave, and suggests he wait until spring. Roran disagrees, and says he will be leaving shortly while they're waiting for winter. Even though this isn't a book about the division of farm labor, I still need to ask: where the hell are all the farmhands? It's only Roran, Eragon, and Eragon's Uncle Garrow working on the farm. How do just the three of them manage to keep it running and productive? How did Garrow and his now deceased wife manage to do it before Eragon and Roran were old enough to help? And for that matter, why doesn't Garrow have, like, ten other kids to do farm work?
It's been said that when you're writing science-fiction, you get one lie, and you have to then work within the confines of that lie. Everything else has to follow the rules. Fantasy, I think, is a little broader, but still follows that principle. f you're writing about dragons, that's fine, because dragons are mythological creatures and you can do what you want with them, as long as you follow the basic rules. Things like dragons fly, breathe something dangerous, and could kill you several times over.
Suspension of disbelief is a funny thing. I'm all for dragons and magic--that's why I picked up this book in the first place. It's the small, nagging details that bother me. You want to write about a dragon that flies and breathes fire? Cool. Go ahead. But if you're writing about something that exists in real life, that readers know about, then you have to make it realistic. Realistic details in a fantasy setting make the world plausible. It's not the fantasy elements that will drive readers away. What will turn them if is when they don't see the familiar reflected in the extraordinary.
That was kind of an unexpected rant. Anyway, the dragon was finally named "Saphira", surprising absolutely no one. First of all, she's a bright blue dragon. Second of all, you know another Saphira was important to Brom, just from the way he said it.
Anyway, moral of the story? It's cool if your main character can shoot fireballs from his hand or whatever, but if he, say...lived in the 21st Century and didn't have an email account, I would seriously have to question both the author's writing choices and their* perception of what is normal in the world.
*Strunk and White be damned, I'm am totally okay with "they" as a singular gender neutral pronoun.
Monday, July 4, 2016
Eragon, Chap. 4-5 : How to Write Your Dragon
Remember when I said that the chapters in this book were really uneven, length-wise? Chapter 3 was 16 pages of exposition, backstory, and stupid names. Chapter 4 isn't quite 3 pages long, and so short it would hardly be worth mentioning, if not for one event in it.
Saphira!
That's right, the dragon finally hatches, and I remember the reason I started reading this book in the first place. So far I've found it cliche and unintentionally humorous, but maybe things will change from here on out. Maybe, with the dragon in the picture, things will get better from here.
Let's read to find out. Moving on to the next chapter!
What I like about this is that it actually goes into depth about Eragon's thought-process when it comes to keeping Saphira. He has to take into consideration how he's going to take care of a dragon, how he could hide it, and even if he should keep it. It takes him a couple pages figuring out his rationalization to keep the dragon, despite all the reasons he shouldn't. You know, like Galbatorix (I hate typing that name) swooping down to kill him and everyone he loves. So that's decidedly a "con". Pros of raising a dragon: IT'S A DRAGON!
If I were Eragon, I would totally risk keeping a dragon. Saphira's the best part of this book! You have no idea how much I love dragons, guys. If someone offered me a billion dollars or a dragon, I would take the dragon. Especially if it was an intelligent one that you shared a mind-link with! And if a dragon egg hatched under my watch, you can imagine I wouldn't be calm about it. Which is why I'm a little disappointed that Eragon is so cavalier about this.
Let me put it like this:
Remember when you were a kid, and you loved dinosaurs? You read books about dinosaurs, you drew dinosaur pictures, you collected dinosaur stickers, you loved to hear stories about dinosaurs. You were probably sad that there aren't any dinosaurs anymore, and wouldn't it be great if they came back?
Well, suddenly, a baby dinosaur hatched in your bedroom, and it's the first dinosaur to be born in millennia. What do you do?
You'd probably freak out, for a start. Maybe wonder if it's a prank, or if the dinosaur is real. After all, there haven't been any for millions of years. My point being, you would not be calm and rational, and you wouldn't accept it right away that suddenly you have a long-extinct creature in your bedroom.
Eragon doesn't for a second doubt that it's a dragon, that it's real, and that he was meant to have it. Remember, dragons were supposed to be wiped out by Galby (I refuse to write "Galbatorix" one more time) hundreds of years ago, but Eragon doesn't have any trouble accepting that this mythical, should-be-extinct creature, is in his bedroom. His calm reaction is just so unnatural.
The rest of this chapter is Eragon learning more about Saphira, and it's pretty disappointing. In fantasy and science-fiction, characters experience things that we, in the real world, will never get to do. That's a big part of their appeal. We'll never be able to fly on the back of a dragon or shoot fire from our hands, but through books like this one, we can imagine what it's like. Which is why Paolini's vague descriptions of Eragon's interactions with Saphira are so annoying to me. For example, he tells us that Eragon played with the dragon, but doesn't say what that means. Were they playing fetch? Hide and seek? Chasing mice? How would an intelligent creature with abilities different than ours (and a newborn) react to her rapidly expanding world? How does Eragon respond to her actions? There's a lot of possibility to show us some exciting (and adorable) stuff, but it just gets glossed over.
I want to play fetch with a baby dragon so badly.
Saphira!
That's right, the dragon finally hatches, and I remember the reason I started reading this book in the first place. So far I've found it cliche and unintentionally humorous, but maybe things will change from here on out. Maybe, with the dragon in the picture, things will get better from here.
Let's read to find out. Moving on to the next chapter!
What I like about this is that it actually goes into depth about Eragon's thought-process when it comes to keeping Saphira. He has to take into consideration how he's going to take care of a dragon, how he could hide it, and even if he should keep it. It takes him a couple pages figuring out his rationalization to keep the dragon, despite all the reasons he shouldn't. You know, like Galbatorix (I hate typing that name) swooping down to kill him and everyone he loves. So that's decidedly a "con". Pros of raising a dragon: IT'S A DRAGON!
If I were Eragon, I would totally risk keeping a dragon. Saphira's the best part of this book! You have no idea how much I love dragons, guys. If someone offered me a billion dollars or a dragon, I would take the dragon. Especially if it was an intelligent one that you shared a mind-link with! And if a dragon egg hatched under my watch, you can imagine I wouldn't be calm about it. Which is why I'm a little disappointed that Eragon is so cavalier about this.
Let me put it like this:
Remember when you were a kid, and you loved dinosaurs? You read books about dinosaurs, you drew dinosaur pictures, you collected dinosaur stickers, you loved to hear stories about dinosaurs. You were probably sad that there aren't any dinosaurs anymore, and wouldn't it be great if they came back?
Well, suddenly, a baby dinosaur hatched in your bedroom, and it's the first dinosaur to be born in millennia. What do you do?
You'd probably freak out, for a start. Maybe wonder if it's a prank, or if the dinosaur is real. After all, there haven't been any for millions of years. My point being, you would not be calm and rational, and you wouldn't accept it right away that suddenly you have a long-extinct creature in your bedroom.
Eragon doesn't for a second doubt that it's a dragon, that it's real, and that he was meant to have it. Remember, dragons were supposed to be wiped out by Galby (I refuse to write "Galbatorix" one more time) hundreds of years ago, but Eragon doesn't have any trouble accepting that this mythical, should-be-extinct creature, is in his bedroom. His calm reaction is just so unnatural.
The rest of this chapter is Eragon learning more about Saphira, and it's pretty disappointing. In fantasy and science-fiction, characters experience things that we, in the real world, will never get to do. That's a big part of their appeal. We'll never be able to fly on the back of a dragon or shoot fire from our hands, but through books like this one, we can imagine what it's like. Which is why Paolini's vague descriptions of Eragon's interactions with Saphira are so annoying to me. For example, he tells us that Eragon played with the dragon, but doesn't say what that means. Were they playing fetch? Hide and seek? Chasing mice? How would an intelligent creature with abilities different than ours (and a newborn) react to her rapidly expanding world? How does Eragon respond to her actions? There's a lot of possibility to show us some exciting (and adorable) stuff, but it just gets glossed over.
I want to play fetch with a baby dragon so badly.
Friday, July 1, 2016
Eragon, Chap. 3: This is a Joke, Right?
It is truly shocking how little I care about the goings-on in Carvahall, Eragon's village. Since I've read Eragon already and know what's going to happen, there's no tension in this chapter anymore. I wonder if this is one of the reasons I never read this book twice, despite how much I enjoyed it the first time around. So far it's the longest chapter in the book, and it's nothing but exposition.
Before I get into that, though, I want to pick apart the text.
Does anyone else see what's wrong with that sentence?
I've taken enough creative writing classes to know that you should (a) avoid adverbs and (b) use verbs for description.
I love how Stephen King put it in his memoir, On Writing:
And this ties into into (b) use verbs for description.
Don't get me wrong, adjectives are great. But verbs are better.
Compare:
"I don't like it," she said in a soft voice.
To:
"I don't like it," she whispered.
They both mean the same thing, but the second sentence should feel stronger and put a more immediate picture in your mind than the first. If it didn't, I've clearly done something wrong here. Like adverbs, adjectives can get ungainly when they're overused. Don't use two words when one will suffice.
If you haven't figured it out yet, my problem with the above sentence is two-fold. Obviously, I don't like "hungrily". But it's also redundant. If Eragon is "devouring", he's clearly hungry; there's no need to say he devoured something "hungrily".
"Eragon devoured the chicken."
"Eragon hungrily ate the chicken."
Either of these would have been better than what we got.
I just spent way too much time picking apart one sentence that's probably gone unnoticed by most readers.
As for the rest of this chapter, it's mostly just exposition. A good portion of it is just the villagers talking about how much they hate the Empire. I think it would be better if it was done using more dialogue and didn't rely on the narration so much, but it also seems to repeat itself a lot.
The most important part of this chapter comes at the end, when Brom tells the story of the Dragon Riders. They were a group ofMary Sues humans and elves who rode dragons and kept peace throughout the land. So, you know, Jedi, but with dragons. As you might imagine, some tragedy befell them, and now the Dragon Riders are no more. Or, as Brom tells it:
Hahaha! This is another case of flowery words backfiring. "Conceived"? Really?
"Brom, how did the Riders fall?"
"Well, Eragon, when a Dragon Rider loves arrogance very much, they conceive sorrow!"
The story is about a Rider named Galbatorix...
...yes, that's his real name. Not a name that he took after going crazy and becoming evil. Sigh.
Galbatorix's dragon was killed, he went crazy, and the Riders refused to give him a new one. Now, Brom talks a lot about how cunning Galbatorix is, and how skilled he was with magic and a sword. Basically, a real bad-ass. When he goes to overthrow the Riders, though, he can only do it with the help of an accomplice, Morzan.
Two things here: First, all of those names are so cringe-worthy. The dragon Galbatorix steals is even named "Shruikan". You know, "shuriken" spelled wrong.
Second, Brom spent so much time telling us how dangerous Galbatorix was on his own, I'm kind of finding it hard to believe that all he needed was a gate left open instead of melting the lock with magic, or blasting it open, or disguising himself as another Rider. Once Shruikan is all grown-up, Galbatorix and thirteen other defectors kill the other Dragon Riders. Vrael, leader of the Dragon Riders, fights Galbatorix, but...well, this is the part where I nearly threw the book down with rage.
A crotch shot?
A CROTCH SHOT?!
THE WORLD WAS CHANGED BECAUSE OF A CROTCH SHOT?!
THE ENTIRE WORLD COULD HAVE BEEN SAVED IF VRAEL WORE A CODPIECE.
WHAT IS THIS SHIT.
Before I get into that, though, I want to pick apart the text.
"He helped himself to a piece of chicken, which he devoured hungrily."
Does anyone else see what's wrong with that sentence?
I've taken enough creative writing classes to know that you should (a) avoid adverbs and (b) use verbs for description.
I love how Stephen King put it in his memoir, On Writing:
“I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs, and I will shout it from the rooftops. To put it another way, they’re like dandelions. If you have one on your lawn, it looks pretty and unique. If you fail to root it out, however, you find five the next day…fifty the day after that…and then, my brothers and sisters, your lawn is totally, completely, and profligately covered with dandelions. By then you see them for the weeds they really are, but by then it’s–GASP!!–too late.”One or two adverbs here or there are okay. Too many, though, and they become annoying and repetitive, and make your writing look lazy and weak.
And this ties into into (b) use verbs for description.
Don't get me wrong, adjectives are great. But verbs are better.
Compare:
"I don't like it," she said in a soft voice.
To:
"I don't like it," she whispered.
They both mean the same thing, but the second sentence should feel stronger and put a more immediate picture in your mind than the first. If it didn't, I've clearly done something wrong here. Like adverbs, adjectives can get ungainly when they're overused. Don't use two words when one will suffice.
If you haven't figured it out yet, my problem with the above sentence is two-fold. Obviously, I don't like "hungrily". But it's also redundant. If Eragon is "devouring", he's clearly hungry; there's no need to say he devoured something "hungrily".
"Eragon devoured the chicken."
"Eragon hungrily ate the chicken."
Either of these would have been better than what we got.
I just spent way too much time picking apart one sentence that's probably gone unnoticed by most readers.
As for the rest of this chapter, it's mostly just exposition. A good portion of it is just the villagers talking about how much they hate the Empire. I think it would be better if it was done using more dialogue and didn't rely on the narration so much, but it also seems to repeat itself a lot.
The most important part of this chapter comes at the end, when Brom tells the story of the Dragon Riders. They were a group of
"'Some saw his abrupt rise as dangerous and warned the others, but the Riders had grown arrogant in their power and ignored caution. Alas, sorrow as conceived that day.'"
Hahaha! This is another case of flowery words backfiring. "Conceived"? Really?
"Brom, how did the Riders fall?"
"Well, Eragon, when a Dragon Rider loves arrogance very much, they conceive sorrow!"
The story is about a Rider named Galbatorix...
...yes, that's his real name. Not a name that he took after going crazy and becoming evil. Sigh.
Galbatorix's dragon was killed, he went crazy, and the Riders refused to give him a new one. Now, Brom talks a lot about how cunning Galbatorix is, and how skilled he was with magic and a sword. Basically, a real bad-ass. When he goes to overthrow the Riders, though, he can only do it with the help of an accomplice, Morzan.
"'Galbatorix convinced Morzan to leave a gate unbolted in the citadel Ilirea, which is now called Urรป'baen.'"
Two things here: First, all of those names are so cringe-worthy. The dragon Galbatorix steals is even named "Shruikan". You know, "shuriken" spelled wrong.
Second, Brom spent so much time telling us how dangerous Galbatorix was on his own, I'm kind of finding it hard to believe that all he needed was a gate left open instead of melting the lock with magic, or blasting it open, or disguising himself as another Rider. Once Shruikan is all grown-up, Galbatorix and thirteen other defectors kill the other Dragon Riders. Vrael, leader of the Dragon Riders, fights Galbatorix, but...well, this is the part where I nearly threw the book down with rage.
"'As they fought, Galbatorix kicked Vrael in the fork of his legs. With that underhanded blow he gained dominance over Vrael and removed his head with a blazing sword. [. . .] And from that day, he has ruled us."
A crotch shot?
A CROTCH SHOT?!
THE WORLD WAS CHANGED BECAUSE OF A CROTCH SHOT?!
THE ENTIRE WORLD COULD HAVE BEEN SAVED IF VRAEL WORE A CODPIECE.
WHAT IS THIS SHIT.
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Monday, June 27, 2016
Eragon 1-2: Descriptive Descriptions
When I began this blog, I knew right away that I wanted to re-read Eragon for it, mostly to see if the book I loved as a teenager was as bad as everyone said it was. I did have one pretty big hang-up about getting it started: the length. Almost 500 pages long, reading a book this size was no mean feat for a fourteen-year-old, and might prove to be even more of a challenge for an adult with a full-time job who spends most of her weekends either traveling or working. Sometimes both. And this book gets pretty heavy as a carry-on. Plus, the table of contents alone is 3 pages long. That's a lot of chapters to review.
Flipping through the book, I realized that the chapters don't have even lengths. The first chapter is about 2.5 pages long, as is the second. They're fairly quick reads, and though I expect some big, fat chapters later on in the book, right now it doesn't seem like such an intimidating project. But I do have a good backlog of posts, so...let's give it a shot.
Chapter one introduces us to the titular protagonist, Eragon. We learn that he's just a teenager (because of course he is), who's a skilled hunter and tracker. The prose isn't bad, but there's just something about it that feels lacking. It seems like Paolini was reaching for flowery language, but prose that is still easy to understand.
What doesn't feel lacking is just over-the-top. Three paragraphs in, and I'm already scoffing over Eragon's description:
It's the "intense brown eyes" that gets me. That's the kind of phrase I would have used in fanfiction when describing a character. It's a description that just doesn't make sense to me. When someone has "intense" eyes, I can only picture a person whose eyes are unearthly--in that they're glowing, or can hypnotize you with a stare. For me, it's just too vague to actually mean anything.
However, his ridiculous eyes do lead him to a blue stone, the same one that the elf was carrying in the prologue. I think that there's supposed to be suspense here, but anyone who read the inside flap of the book can tell you right away it's got something to do with the blue dragon on the cover. However, it does lead us to the first sentence that made me laugh out loud in this book.
If it were truly frictionless, Eragon wouldn't be able to hold it. It would be sliding out of his hands, slipping through the forest, and no one would ever be able to catch it. The mental image of that--a huge blue stone, forever moving across the world--is funnier than it should be to me. Maybe because right now I'm wishing that's what would really happen.
...maybe that'd be a better way of keeping the stone safe, rather than teleporting it somewhere where it might never get found, or worse, fall into the wrong hands?
And that about does it for the first chapter. Like I said, it was pretty short. Moving on to the next...
The first two pages of this chapter are nothing but description. It's not bad, and it wasn't even that boring. We're also introduced to Sloan, the butcher. I never liked Sloan; as a kid it was because he's a dick. Now, it's because he's a dick to just the main character. He hates Eragon, and the reason that's given is because Eragon isn't afraid to venture into the mountain range where Sloan's wife was killed.
I read the first two books completely, and almost finished the third one in this series. Some major shit happens to Sloan, and I think it's meant to be his comeuppance for being an asshole to Eragon. It's a pretty disproportionate punishment for just being a jerk. Even Eragon, who's supposed to be our hero, punishes Sloan right after saving him.
I guess I should just be focusing on this book, and this chapter, but Sloan's treatment gets taken too far.
We also see the farm that Eragon lives on, with his uncle and cousin.
Okay, I'll accept dragons and magic and elves. I cannot accept that a farm has only three people living and working on it. If they can't afford farmhands, shouldn't Uncle Garrow have, like, eight kids? A farm is freaking hard to run, especially when you only have three people working on it, and one of them seems to be hunting in the woods more often than not, if Sloan's dialogue is any indication.
Also, this is our first description of Garrow:
SO INTENSE. What does that even mean?
Flipping through the book, I realized that the chapters don't have even lengths. The first chapter is about 2.5 pages long, as is the second. They're fairly quick reads, and though I expect some big, fat chapters later on in the book, right now it doesn't seem like such an intimidating project. But I do have a good backlog of posts, so...let's give it a shot.
Chapter one introduces us to the titular protagonist, Eragon. We learn that he's just a teenager (because of course he is), who's a skilled hunter and tracker. The prose isn't bad, but there's just something about it that feels lacking. It seems like Paolini was reaching for flowery language, but prose that is still easy to understand.
What doesn't feel lacking is just over-the-top. Three paragraphs in, and I'm already scoffing over Eragon's description:
"Eragon was fifteen, less than a year from manhood. Dark eyebrows rested above his intense brown eyes."
It's the "intense brown eyes" that gets me. That's the kind of phrase I would have used in fanfiction when describing a character. It's a description that just doesn't make sense to me. When someone has "intense" eyes, I can only picture a person whose eyes are unearthly--in that they're glowing, or can hypnotize you with a stare. For me, it's just too vague to actually mean anything.
However, his ridiculous eyes do lead him to a blue stone, the same one that the elf was carrying in the prologue. I think that there's supposed to be suspense here, but anyone who read the inside flap of the book can tell you right away it's got something to do with the blue dragon on the cover. However, it does lead us to the first sentence that made me laugh out loud in this book.
"The stone was cool and frictionless under his fingers, like hardened silk."It's another case of trying to using flowery language, except it backfired hilariously. I know that he's trying to say that the stone is really smooth, but "frictionless"?
If it were truly frictionless, Eragon wouldn't be able to hold it. It would be sliding out of his hands, slipping through the forest, and no one would ever be able to catch it. The mental image of that--a huge blue stone, forever moving across the world--is funnier than it should be to me. Maybe because right now I'm wishing that's what would really happen.
...maybe that'd be a better way of keeping the stone safe, rather than teleporting it somewhere where it might never get found, or worse, fall into the wrong hands?
And that about does it for the first chapter. Like I said, it was pretty short. Moving on to the next...
The first two pages of this chapter are nothing but description. It's not bad, and it wasn't even that boring. We're also introduced to Sloan, the butcher. I never liked Sloan; as a kid it was because he's a dick. Now, it's because he's a dick to just the main character. He hates Eragon, and the reason that's given is because Eragon isn't afraid to venture into the mountain range where Sloan's wife was killed.
I read the first two books completely, and almost finished the third one in this series. Some major shit happens to Sloan, and I think it's meant to be his comeuppance for being an asshole to Eragon. It's a pretty disproportionate punishment for just being a jerk. Even Eragon, who's supposed to be our hero, punishes Sloan right after saving him.
I guess I should just be focusing on this book, and this chapter, but Sloan's treatment gets taken too far.
We also see the farm that Eragon lives on, with his uncle and cousin.
Okay, I'll accept dragons and magic and elves. I cannot accept that a farm has only three people living and working on it. If they can't afford farmhands, shouldn't Uncle Garrow have, like, eight kids? A farm is freaking hard to run, especially when you only have three people working on it, and one of them seems to be hunting in the woods more often than not, if Sloan's dialogue is any indication.
Also, this is our first description of Garrow:
"His worn clothes hung on him like rags on a stick frame. A lean, hungry face with intense eyes gazed out from under graying hair."
SO INTENSE. What does that even mean?
Friday, June 24, 2016
Eragon, Prologue: A Scent That Would Change the World
Hoo, boy.
When I started this blog, I knew right away that one of the books I wanted to read for it was Eragon. I loved this book when I was fourteen, but I'm aware of all the terrible reviews it's gotten. The main character has been called a sociopath, the overall story is said to be Star Wars with dragons, the writing's been called proof that Paolini has access to a thesaurus. Now, it's time for me to go back and see if any of that is true.
But before we go any further, let's get the Star Wars thing out of the way right now. The first Star Wars movie (A New Hope) follows a classic monomyth structure. This is where a lot of familiar storytelling devices come from: the call to adventure, the wise old man, the first failure. The protagonist succeeds and fails, and finally wins the day and learns a lesson.
Eragon, inasmuch as I remember, follows the same monomyth structure. It's not necessarily that it's a rip-off of Star Wars, but that it follows the same story structure that has existed...probably for as long as stories have. Can you really blame a fifteen-year-old novelist, in his first book, for using a tried and true formula?
Well, yes, I suppose you could.
Enough of that, let's jump right in!
That's the first line of this series.
That's the first line.
If I spotted this in a bookstore today, picked it up, and read the first sentence, I would have slammed it shut so fast. I have a terrible feeling that the awful, corny sentence I just read is going to set the tone for the rest of this book.
But I loved this book as a kid. And it was really popular! There's gotta be a reason why so many people enjoyed it! It can't be all bad, right?
...Right?
The prologue follows a "raven-haired" (groan) woman who is clearly on a mission, but we don't know what that mission is. The first time I read this book, I was totally confused, and had no idea what was happening. Because I was an idiot, I took that as a good thing.
My reasoning was this:
1. The Similarillion is a great book.
2. I had no goddamn clue was was going on in The Silmarillion.
3. Therefore, if I didn't understand what was happening in the long fantasy novel, and it had a lot of made-up words, it was good.
Now I know the opposite to be true. Confusing your audience is a good way to lose them pretty quickly. Case in point: I never actually read past the first chapter of The Silmaraillion.
Paolini tells us about a "Shade" and "Urgals" chasing our dark-haired beauty, without really explaining what they are. We can figure out that Urgals are just another flavor of orc, and a Shade is some kind of magician, presumably an evil one. I guess I can see why you'd want to use different terms than the norm when writing a book like this, but a rose by any other name still smells.
Anyway, the beautiful woman gets captured, but teleports a blue stone far away from her location. The hero will eventually save her and--
They were right. They were right all along. This is just Star Wars.
No...I have to hold out hope. I have to believe that this isn't just a a rip-off of a better, more beloved franchise. It's just the monomyth structure! It's just the monomyth structure!
Maybe if I say it enough, I'll convince myself that it's true.
It's just the monomyth structure, it's just the monomyth structure, it's just the monomyth structure...
When I started this blog, I knew right away that one of the books I wanted to read for it was Eragon. I loved this book when I was fourteen, but I'm aware of all the terrible reviews it's gotten. The main character has been called a sociopath, the overall story is said to be Star Wars with dragons, the writing's been called proof that Paolini has access to a thesaurus. Now, it's time for me to go back and see if any of that is true.
But before we go any further, let's get the Star Wars thing out of the way right now. The first Star Wars movie (A New Hope) follows a classic monomyth structure. This is where a lot of familiar storytelling devices come from: the call to adventure, the wise old man, the first failure. The protagonist succeeds and fails, and finally wins the day and learns a lesson.
Eragon, inasmuch as I remember, follows the same monomyth structure. It's not necessarily that it's a rip-off of Star Wars, but that it follows the same story structure that has existed...probably for as long as stories have. Can you really blame a fifteen-year-old novelist, in his first book, for using a tried and true formula?
Well, yes, I suppose you could.
Enough of that, let's jump right in!
"Wind howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world."
Oh my God.
That's the first line of this series.
That's the first line.
If I spotted this in a bookstore today, picked it up, and read the first sentence, I would have slammed it shut so fast. I have a terrible feeling that the awful, corny sentence I just read is going to set the tone for the rest of this book.
But I loved this book as a kid. And it was really popular! There's gotta be a reason why so many people enjoyed it! It can't be all bad, right?
...Right?
The prologue follows a "raven-haired" (groan) woman who is clearly on a mission, but we don't know what that mission is. The first time I read this book, I was totally confused, and had no idea what was happening. Because I was an idiot, I took that as a good thing.
My reasoning was this:
1. The Similarillion is a great book.
2. I had no goddamn clue was was going on in The Silmarillion.
3. Therefore, if I didn't understand what was happening in the long fantasy novel, and it had a lot of made-up words, it was good.
Now I know the opposite to be true. Confusing your audience is a good way to lose them pretty quickly. Case in point: I never actually read past the first chapter of The Silmaraillion.
Paolini tells us about a "Shade" and "Urgals" chasing our dark-haired beauty, without really explaining what they are. We can figure out that Urgals are just another flavor of orc, and a Shade is some kind of magician, presumably an evil one. I guess I can see why you'd want to use different terms than the norm when writing a book like this, but a rose by any other name still smells.
Anyway, the beautiful woman gets captured, but teleports a blue stone far away from her location. The hero will eventually save her and--
They were right. They were right all along. This is just Star Wars.
No...I have to hold out hope. I have to believe that this isn't just a a rip-off of a better, more beloved franchise. It's just the monomyth structure! It's just the monomyth structure!
Maybe if I say it enough, I'll convince myself that it's true.
It's just the monomyth structure, it's just the monomyth structure, it's just the monomyth structure...
Monday, June 20, 2016
Trope Discussion: The Chosen One
Every so often, I'd like to take a break from revisiting old books
and think about fiction itself. Specifically, tropes in fiction. That
is, common reoccurring themes you'll see in fiction. And right now,
there's one in particular that I'd like to discuss.
There was always something about this trope that rubbed me the wrong way. I used to think it was because I would see it so often. The movies above are just a tiny, tiny portion of the stories that use this "Chosen One" as part of their plot.
I used to think that it annoyed me because it's a cliche prophecies and stories about the "Chosen One" date as far back as ancient Greece. It's present in religion, and no doubt you've read a book or two wherein the main character was somehow prophesied to save everyone. Even some of my favorite series, Harry Potter and His Dark Materials fall into this.
There's a few different reasons I don't like this trope. First is the foregone conclusion. If Suzy's destined to defeat the evil overlord, then it's going to happen, period. Sure, she'll go on an adventure getting to the bad guy, but is there any suspense left when she finally faces him? We already know that she's going to defeat him.
Real heroism is hard, and it's not accomplished by a single person. Look at any real-life hero. Chances are, there's a whole mess of people behind him that helped make him a hero. Since I work in the aviation industry, Sully Sullenberger immediately comes to mind. He was the pilot of "Miracle on the Hudson" fame, and quite rightfully hailed as a hero. But that day could have ended very differently without the plane's whole crew, the volunteer rescuers, even the commercial ferries that came to help.
The other thing that never sat well with me is the idea of fate. When a character has a pre-determined fate, they're not given the chance to say no to it. Sure, they can try to run from their destiny, but it always has a way of catching up to them. The prophesied character doesn't get a chance to refuse to undertake this task.
To quote Dumbledore, "Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right." Taking the"easy" path -- whether it be joining the villain, or just going home and waiting for someone else to clean up this mess -- should be incredibly tempting to follow. Following the "right" path will be challenging and dangerous, and there will be hardships along the way. When there's no destiny attached to you, you could back out at any time. A true hero keeps going, no matter the struggle, and that makes us feel their triumphs and tragedies more deeply.
To me, heroes aren't chosen. They're the ones that make the choices.
There was always something about this trope that rubbed me the wrong way. I used to think it was because I would see it so often. The movies above are just a tiny, tiny portion of the stories that use this "Chosen One" as part of their plot.
I used to think that it annoyed me because it's a cliche prophecies and stories about the "Chosen One" date as far back as ancient Greece. It's present in religion, and no doubt you've read a book or two wherein the main character was somehow prophesied to save everyone. Even some of my favorite series, Harry Potter and His Dark Materials fall into this.
There's a few different reasons I don't like this trope. First is the foregone conclusion. If Suzy's destined to defeat the evil overlord, then it's going to happen, period. Sure, she'll go on an adventure getting to the bad guy, but is there any suspense left when she finally faces him? We already know that she's going to defeat him.
Real heroism is hard, and it's not accomplished by a single person. Look at any real-life hero. Chances are, there's a whole mess of people behind him that helped make him a hero. Since I work in the aviation industry, Sully Sullenberger immediately comes to mind. He was the pilot of "Miracle on the Hudson" fame, and quite rightfully hailed as a hero. But that day could have ended very differently without the plane's whole crew, the volunteer rescuers, even the commercial ferries that came to help.
The other thing that never sat well with me is the idea of fate. When a character has a pre-determined fate, they're not given the chance to say no to it. Sure, they can try to run from their destiny, but it always has a way of catching up to them. The prophesied character doesn't get a chance to refuse to undertake this task.
To quote Dumbledore, "Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right." Taking the"easy" path -- whether it be joining the villain, or just going home and waiting for someone else to clean up this mess -- should be incredibly tempting to follow. Following the "right" path will be challenging and dangerous, and there will be hardships along the way. When there's no destiny attached to you, you could back out at any time. A true hero keeps going, no matter the struggle, and that makes us feel their triumphs and tragedies more deeply.
To me, heroes aren't chosen. They're the ones that make the choices.
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