The second post in this blog's archives, from back in 2005, is a review of Robert Jordan's "Knife of Dreams," the 11th book in the epic fantasy saga The Wheel of Time. After trudging through about four books worth of slow plot grind, the story burst back to life with intrigue, death, and oh-so-beautiful plot resolution... or so it seemed. Knife, however solid, possessed nowhere near the density of Concentrated Awesome that the fourth through sixth books in the series had. But it was such a stark improvement over books seven through (ugh) ten that I was determined to laud it accordingly. I had a brand-new blog at the time, and it made an ideal podium.
Then, in 2007, after a courageous fight with cardiac amylidosis, Robert Jordan (James O. Rigney) passed away, leaving his magnum opus incomplete. TVTropes refers to this as "Author Existence Failure." While condolent toward the storyteller's family, fans were left to genuinely wonder if the final book of the series would ever be completed.
As it turns out, we need not have worried. Jordan's widow, Harriet McDougal, found a young up-and-coming fantasy author named Brandon Sanderson and charged him with finishing the epic story based on Jordan's notes, tapes, charts, and a few hundred pages' worth of completed text. Sanderson's commission was the gig of a lifetime, and I am downright verdant with envy at seeing him tackle this incredible task.
Per Sanderson, Jordan had completed most of the end of the Last Battle and sketched in arc-completion and epilogue frameworks for the major characters. That is, the major major characters -- Wheel features, as of the end of the new book, over 1900 named characters. Pink Floyd was right, of course: a walk-on part in a war is better than a lead role in a cage. But in the case of Wheel, things were and remain all but unmanageable at that scale. Jordan mercifully killed off a fair number of the cast in the previous book, including various Aes Sedai coattail-riders, some Whitecloaks, some Seanchan, et cetera. That still left a huge menagerie for Sanderson to manage and marshal toward plot arc resolution, and in many cases all he had were notes of Jordan's to the effect that "character X turned out to be a Darkfriend all along" or what have you. To be clear: Sanderson's task was monumental. So monumental, in fact, that the original "final book" he was commissioned to write turned into a final trilogy of books. The Gathering Storm is the first of the three, and will be followed in about a year by Towers of Midnight and finally A Memory of Light.
Did Sanderson succeed? This should in no way be taken as speaking ill of the departed, but my answer is: Yes; in fact, possibly to a greater degree than Jordan himself could have done.
I can hear the fanboy public gnashing teeth already. "How can it be better than Jordan would have done? That's impossible! It's Jordan's story!" Indeed it is. Jordan had already conceived the vital details driving the plot and had already created vibrant, exciting characters. (Too damned many of them, in fact). But it was clear that Jordan was too much a product of his serial-romance-novel roots. This series should have ended books ago, and a few entire arcs in the middle books should really never have happened. Brandon Sanderson's handling of The Gathering Storm is tight, efficient, vivid, and exciting all at once. It wastes little and accomplishes much. In short, Sanderson's execution surpassed Jordan's.
Mark Rosewater teaches a bit of screenwriting/playwriting wisdom that goes: "No scene is worth a line; no show is worth a scene." That is to say, no matter how enamored an author may be of a compositional element, if it does not completely serve the story, it needs to be cut. This lesson can be expanded beyond lines and scenes to entire plot threads. If a plot thread does not serve the primary story to a greater degree than the space it takes up in the text, it needs to go. Just playing to a draw isn't good enough, either -- every plot thread more than necessary creates distraction and dilutes focus, so that serves as a rake above which a surplus plot line must deliver.
An example of a plot thread subarc that delivered above and beyond its cost to the main narrative would be in Lord of the Rings when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli depart the Rohirrim camp to travel the Dimhault Road and confront the Army of the Dead. How well did this thread deliver? Look at what it accomplished. The thread:
- Provided the Good Guys a source of martial strength that they used to rally to win the Battle of Minas Tirith;
- Developed Aragorn's credentials as returning King of Gondor, as the Dead are among the first to recognize Aragorn's authority to command and to enforce oaths;
- Furthered the character-role shifts of Aragorn from Lancer to Hero and Legolas from Pretty One to Lancer;
- Forced Gimli to face his fears, realizing that his cowardice was not of death or defeat but of failing to live up to the deeds of his ancestors; and
- Removed three of the Fellowship from the larger plot thread at a pivotal time so that the plot arcs of several second-tier characters could develop and resolve on the main stage.
That is staggering, beautiful efficiency of narrative there by the master, Tolkien. And, to Jordan's credit, Wheel contains plot subarcs that are well-conceived and add great depth and flavor to the narrative, even if not as tightly as Tolkien's did. Unfortunately, to Jordan's detriment, there were all too many plot threads that subtracted from the narrative just as an ill-conceived line can kill a scene, or an ill-conceived scene can kill a show.
The worst offender Jordan included in Wheel is the Faile/Shaido plot arc. It could be excised from the books and what incremental character development that occurred in it could be dispersed along other events involving those characters, and the series would be both shorter and better off for it. In fact, one of Sanderson's first cleanup tasks in book 12 is to resolve the few remaining bits of that arc. A subarc that straddled that thread was the Morgase/Maighdin story, and the same is true. Maighdin should simply have been killed. It would have added depth to Tallanvor and Basel Gill as they grapple internally with whether to transfer their loyalties to Elayne Trakand, and it would have added greater gravity to Elayne's grieving for her mother without the distraction of the unneeded dramatic irony that the reader knows Maighdin is alive and Elayne does not. Another example was a new subarc Jordan added in book 11: Rodel Ituralde and the guerrilla-style Domani homeland defense. Sanderson resolves it completely in book 12, and it becomes clear that it wasn't really necessary at all. Ituralde, for all his badassitude, gave nothing to the story that Davram Bashere and the Borderland generals were not already capable of providing. Yet a fourth example, especially pernicious because the events of book 12 (as plotted by Jordan, not as written by Sanderson) mooted it entirely, was the subarc involving the Atha'an Miere. Yup, all that Sea Folk scheming and bargaining ends up amounting to bupkus -- and that's what Jordan meant to have happen all along.
Faced with such a tangle of plot events yearning to resolve and breathe free, Sanderson took up the mantle of Storm by breaking out of Jordan's overly-dispersed concurrent narrative structures and returning to the plotting format that writers have used to great effect for centuries. Sanderson concentrates on a few major plot arcs, highlights conflict, forces characters to make value decisions, and resolves those plot arcs to the degree that this stage of the series plot allowed. He takes time on the side to tie up a number of loose ends, and none of them end up reading in a particularly abrupt manner -- it was clear that some parts of the narrative had withered on the vine and were best disposed of. In one particular instance, a mid-major character from earlier books who had been seen less and less lately was consolidated from a subarc into one of the main arcs so excellently that there occurred a trifecta of Crowning Moment of Awesome, Tearjerker Death, and Reckoning That Followed. Two villain subarcs rejoined the major arcs, and two more prominent antagonists are Dead And Not Coming Back, something that happened all too infrequently since around book five.
The primary plotlines in Storm follow Rand al'Thor and Egwene al'Vere. Rand struggles to get the necessary military assets in place for the onset of the Last Battle while clinging to what remains of his fragile sanity and emotional state. Since Rand is the Main Hero, his plot did not resolve entirely, but came to a satisfying stopping point with a healthy chunk of his conflict resolved and the remaining conflict cleanly distinguished for future development. The most chokingly-intense and "OMFG!" chapter in the book involves Rand doing something we never, not in a million years, could have predicted he would do. A very, very intense twist. Egwene's major plot, easily the more consistent backbone of the book, is just about resolved by story's end -- but there are some twists along the way that take her where the fan community probably didn't quite expect her to go.
Matrim Cauthon does appear and stars in a deliciously creepy interlude, one of the best-written scenes in the series, but his Huge Plot Climax seems primed instead to occur in book 13. Perrin Aybara was a major figure in book 11 and doesn't do too much in Storm, but Perrin's chapters do well to marshal some necessary assets to their places for the grand finale. Nynaeve al'Meara gets screen time in two different subarcs and flourishes in both. Aviendha has a single subarc, and a well-executed one -- it appeared to be cleanup work, as it could have occurred books ago, but it was satisfying nonetheless. Tuon still has considerable mileage left ahead of her, despite the deceptive chapter title "The Death of Tuon." I was upset at first at the apparent "Return of the King"-esque title spoiler, but upon reading the chapter, I realized that the meaning of that phrase had already been hinted at by Jordan, and it was not what it seemed at first glance -- a delightful misdirect. Tuon's subarc touches both of the primary plot arcs to great (and very different) effect. And, for the first time since... the series began, Gawyn Trakand gets to be a mid-major instead of a throwaway character. Among the minor characters, there are literally scores of deaths, at least one Tearjerker Wedding Proposal, and no small amount of derring-do.
Lan Mandragoran and Elayne Trakand each play the part of Sir Not Appearing In This Book, reprising Perrin's command performance from book 5 and Mat's brilliant delivery in book 8. Among the bad guys, the biggest no-shows were Mazrim Taim, Padan Fain, and Mesaana. There is vague, ominous foreshadowing at the end of both Knife and Storm that big doin's are a-transpirin' at the Black Tower, but there have still been no chapter-length scenes filmed on location since, what, book 9? One surmises the Black Tower is one of the "Towers of Midnight" that book 13's title promises we'll see. What other Towers could there be? Conceivably all could appear in book 13, as all have unresolved plot hooks that are ripe or close enough: the White Tower, the Tower of Ghenjei, and the Tower of Ravens. We don't, alas, learn anything more about What Happened to Asmodean.
I deliberately waited the better part of the week after finishing The Gathering Storm to write this review, because I wanted the shine to have worn off the apple before I charged in and declared it a triumph or a disaster. Despite the wait, I am still convinced, as I was upon closing the back cover, that this book stands up alongside The Shadow Rising and The Fires of Heaven, and I am absolutely stunned at the professional craftsmanship displayed by Brandon Sanderson. My best fiction work is still deeply in development and well short of publication, but even at this early stage in my career, I can see the seams and joints in Sanderson's prose and clearly perceive the adept work that he put into fastening and polishing them. I will most certainly be looking further into that gentleman's back catalog, and not just because he's the only science-fiction writer I know besides myself who plays Magic: the Gathering. Robert Jordan will be a sentimental favorite of fantasy fans forever, but Sanderson is tomorrow's fantasy flagbearer: the John Petrucci to Jordan's Jimmy Page.
After what will be 21 years and 15 books (including a prequel), the most expansive, epic fantasy saga of my generation will finally end. Two years on the calendar and two more tomes on deck. I'm even more excited about this series than when I made that second blog post all those months and years ago... and that makes The Gathering Storm a success by my reckoning.