A Glimpse of Starlight

Last month, I read two incredible fantasy series, and I was hit with the I-really-want-to-nay-I-must-talk-about-these-books-but-I-have-no-words-to-do-them-justice-HALP syndrome. Have you ever had that? I don’t think it’s that rare of a disease, at least among bookworms. Anyway, I finally decided that instead of doing a review (I give this book five stars ’cause it was awesome and I really loved it and you should read it … yeeeeah), I’d pinpoint some specific things I liked in each of them and use them as a broader list for what I like in fantasy in general. Sometimes, only one of these series really applies to the point I’m making, so don’t worry if I only mention one.

{The Series}

 

The Foundling’s Tale {Foundling, Lamplighter, Factotum} ~ D. M. Cornish

(also known in some places as The Monster Blood Tattoo series)

Dickens meets Tolkien. Full of incredible sketches by the author. Includes huge glossaries and appendices and juicy world-building stuff. A massive world (think: Brandon Sanderson) where humans have battled monsters for ages. Enter Rossamund Bookchild, an orphan boy with, unfortunately, a girl’s name.

~ * ~ 

100 Cupboards {100 Cupboards, Dandelion Fire, The Chestnut King} ~ N. D. Wilson 

(gotta wonder what it is with two initials + last name)

Andrew Peterson meets … Rick Riordan? Pretty close. Anyway. Unique, lyrical writing style, sparse yet also poetic. An attic room that is more than it seems (hint: it has one hundred cupboards leading to different worlds). A simple Kansas family that is more than it seems (hint: they live in the house with the attic with the cupboards). A boy, Henry, who—you guessed it—is more than he seems (no hints because spoilers).

~ * ~ 

It is from these trilogies that I discovered:

{Four Random Things I Like in Fantasy Books}

 

1. Simple heroes. 

I’m a little conflicted with this one, because I love a “hero” hero. You know, the dashing, impressive, awe-inspiring type that makes you swoon a little. Think Aragorn or Odysseus. But what about heroes that don’t really seem to be that “cool,” just normal, boring people? In both Wilson and Cornish’s stories, their main protagonists—Rossamund and Henry—begin like that. Of course, you learn later on about their special talents, but they remain simple at heart.

See, some heroes have that attitude of being “burdened with glorious purpose” (not saying Loki’s a hero, but it’s an applicable quote), that sense of dignity, grandeur, even a little haughtiness. Sometimes it’s appropriate—Aragorn’s a king, for heaven’s sake. He’s supposed to act like that. But I appreciate heroes who don’t think of themselves as anything, who are always wondering who they are, how they fit in. Heroes who, even when they find their special powers, still act and feel small. I’m not saying I like wimpy heroes, but ones who realize that they are just one of many special people in a big world.

Both Rossamund and Henry are young, a little insecure, and unaware of anything that makes them unique. Even as they mature and discover more about themselves, they care about simple things, about family and friends, about sparrows and baseball. They don’t want glory or grandeur, fame or acclaim, weighty duties or chances to prove their greatness. All they ultimately want is a home, a cozy, comforting belonging place. Their humble, heart-filled desires are what I’d like to see from more heroes, and less cocky, self-centered individualists.

2. Characters with the same names.

 Okay, so I actually have never met another Aberdeen (though I’m sure there are a couple out there), but I do know plenty of Abbys. If your name is Sarah or John, chances are you’ve met others with your name. Even if you haven’t met someone with your name, you’ve at least heard of someone with it. There are only so many names for seven billion people. But in fantasy stories, every single person has a different name. It’s something that has irked me for a long time.

However, in Wilson’s 100 Cupboards series, there were two delightful instances of identical names. First, there’s Henry’s uncle and a certain Fat-Faerie, both named Frank. It helped me read carefully, because sometimes I’d get mixed up about which Frank Wilson meant. But isn’t that just like normal life— “Wait, that Alex? I thought you were talking about the singer, not Lydia’s brother!” Second, Henry the boy ends up moving to Henry the place—yup, the town of Henry, Kansas, where his cousins live. There’s probably more meaning and symbolism there than simply trying to make the book realistic, but I still love that aspect of it. I’ve certainly snapped pictures of road signs with towns that have my friends’ names.

3. No dragons.

Wait—don’t get me wrong! I love dragons, and I love a good dragon story. But what I love even more is when cliches (like, I hate to say it, dragons) are broken, and people prove that you can still have exciting, epic adventures without what is normally used.

Cornish set out to write a good fantasy that used no cliches, and I’d say he succeeded. No dragons, elves, or end-of-the-world catastrophes here. His monsters are unlike anything I’ve seen before, and his “magic”—the surgically-altered fulgars, who can control electricity, and wits, who can control people’s minds—is also radical and different. In fact, every detail of his world breaks the trends, from the gastrines, artificially-grown muscles that power ships, to lamplighters, brave souls who keep the highways lit to ward off monsters. I could go on for a while, but I’ll end with this: I relished diving into such a rich, well-thought-out world that was so new and unexpected.

4. Bittersweet endings. 

I like when there is a cost, when everything doesn’t turn out all perfectly hunky-dory. Now, I don’t like when books leave you in utter despair or emptiness. Ideally, books close in triumph while recognizing the cost of this victory. Factotum did this marvelously. Actually, the ending wasn’t anything like what I expected, which is another feature I like. But it did beautifully combine the success, while also portraying what Rossamund had to give up to achieve this good thing. (Sorry for the vagueness, but spoilers!)

The Chestnut King was a little more your traditional everything works out, but it did demonstrate how Henry’s new life, so much better though it was, still wasn’t perfect. (Actually, Dandelion Fire did this even more notably.) He was still torn between Kansas and Hylfling, and he would have to live with the two different sides of him for the rest of his life.

Yes, someday, everything will be truly happy. But I think while we are here on earth, the more bittersweet endings ring truer to life. They give us hope while recognizing the struggles we still deal with.

(And I just have to say: This is why I loved the ending of Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance. I know a lot of people hated the ending of that series, but I thought it was perfect.)

Have you read either of these series? And even if not, what do you think about these points? What other random things do you like or dislike in fantasy books?