Where Angels Fear To Tread . . . Or, My Top Five Fantasy Novel List

Not quite a novel, but I love it anyway

Lists are inherently exclusive.  The five books below represent what I think of as emblematic of the fantasy genre.  They're also the first books of series (since I can't in good conscience recommend some of the series as a whole.  But the first book is often outstanding.)  This list also happens to include my top five favorite fantasy books.  The rubric I used to determine this list is simple: Did I enjoy the book, and did I read it again?  A book that is fun the first time, and continues to be satisfying on a second reading is an outstanding read.  In genre fiction that is especially important since by definition fantasy fiction is also escapist.  So, if it draws you back in, it has the emotional and intellectual rigor to hold up under multiple readings.

You'll notice some books that are obviously missing, and I'm sure you'll disagree with me over why they haven't been included.  Your opinion is valid; this list is at best a value judgement on my own part, and not meant to reflect poorly on your opinions.

However, I still think Game of Thrones is just boring.

So here's the list!

5. The Dragonbone Chair -- Tad Williams.

The Dragonbone Chair might be the first major fantasy work that I ever read.  It was during the brief span when I was introduced the the genre, along with the Farseer Trilogy and the Wheel of Time.  Tad Williams is still a major voice in the genre and represents an older perspective on the fantastic.  His world is reminiscent of Tolkien -- he admits that he wrote the book as a specific response to Lord of the Rings.  But the world is uniquely his own and he thoroughly expands on themes which would eventually become tropes.

4. The Name of the Wind -- Patrick Rothfuss.

This is one of the newer authors in the fantasy tradition and though Rothfuss responds to what have become tired tropes, nevertheless remains true to the fantasy tradition in ways that other authors have not.  The protagonist is an orphan, seems destined by fate to be a hero, and is also tragically flawed.  The prose is delicious -- literary in a way that the rest simply are not.  Though the world feels vast and well imagined, that depth is also an illusion and Rothfuss's writerly chops are strained in the sequel.  Nonetheless, this first book in the series is a delight to read.

3. Golden Compass -- Philip Pullman.

It's difficult to talk about this book without discussing the series as a whole, and for that reason I almost included His Dark Materials as a whole.  But the third book veers in a much more serious direction that is far more intellectual than Compass or the second book The Subtle Knife.  Both are delightful and far more intelligent than you might expect from young adult literature -- but that might be a misunderstanding of young adult literature in general.  Certainly, we should know from Rowling and the Harry Potter series that young adults literature can expand itself the vast realms of more adult fare.  Regardless, The Golden Compass is a warm adventure filled with fantastical elements which belie its young adult protagonist.

2. Eye of the World -- Robert Jordan.

This one was tough.  It vied for top billing and it almost got it, since I happen to be rereading it right now.  As far as journey epics go, this is perhaps the foremost in the field.  Fantasy novels tend to follow the formula that Tolkien laid out: Heroes who go for walks.  But that shouldn't surprise us too much since the first fantasy novel -- The Odyssey -- has journey in its title.  Eye of the World is really about a long walk, but it's done so masterfully that it never becomes onerous the way other walking-epics do (I'm looking at you, George).  And Robert Jordan does something else that none of the other epics can boast: a fully developed cosmology.

While The Mary Sue and other feminist blogs are busy caterwauling about the lack of female perspectives in fantasy, it seems like most authors are responding by checking off a list: feisty female protagonist?  Check.  Does she have a tattoo or wear skimpy clothes so we know she's feisty?  Check.  Jordan integrates strong female characters as part of the world itself.  There's a reason for it that feels natural and integral to the plot.  And while many have (rightfully) pointed out that he writes his female characters perspectives poorly, they cannot discount their flawless integration into the world.

Finally, the sense of history in his books is unparalleled by any other author.  Save your breath fans of Steven Erikson.  He ain't got nothing on Jordan.

1. Assassin's Apprentice -- Robin Hobb.

Ultimately, Assassin's Apprentice got top billing because of its unfailing ability to make me care about every single character.  What's more, the entire series is absolutely, hands-down worth reading.  And so is the sequel series The Tawny Man trilogy.  If it came down to it, a top ten list of my favorite fantasy books would be sixty percent Robin Hobb.  The Farseer trilogy is Shakespearean in scope, and her characters are by far the richest and most real of any series.  Fans of fantasy series like to compare magic systems (think any book by Brandon Sanderson), or worldbuilding (Jordan, Erikson, George R. R. Martin) but when it comes down to it, people respond viscerally to the emotional connections they make with the characters.  Nobody makes those connections better than Hobb.  Beautiful, heart-rending, tragic and heroic.  Go read this book.



So that's my list.  What do you think?  What would you have included, or excluded?  More importantly, what are your favorite books in the fantasy genre and why?  Let me know in the comments below.

Cosplay and Fan Fiction

Robin Hobb (who is also Megan Lindholm) once remarked at a book signing that she thinks of fan-fiction as a misuse of limited time.  We're all given a limited period within which to make our art and she thought that fan-fiction (and to a lesser extent commissioned work like film novelizations and filling in for deceased authors as Brandon Sanderson is for Robert Jordan) was time poorly spent.  Instead, she advocated that authors invest in themselves: that instead of playing in someone else's sandbox, they should be making characters and worlds of their own.  I think it's good advice, but it's not advice that I gravitate to.

You see, I started in Wheel of Time fan-fiction.  I'm sure much of it is still floating around the interwebs and my success (or lack thereof) might be an effective scale by which to judge Robin Hobb's advice.  But I have a hard time accepting that the hundred of hours and millions of words (yeah, I counted once) were wasted.  I have to believe that I gained valuable insights into the mechanics of story, plot, narrative, and characterization.  And though those words will never be published, that's okay.  I erred often and frequently, but I learned from those mistakes and I carry them with me still; they influence how I write this blog, how I write papers, how I write articles, short stories, and novels.

Similarly, as I was thinking about fan fiction, I got to thinking about cosplay.  For those of you not in the loop (an orbit I barely inhabit) cosplay stands for costume play and is devoted to fans of particular works of fiction wearing the attire, or acting in the manner of, their favorite characters.  There's quite a bit of ruckus being made as to whether it's part of nerd culture, or geek culture, somewhere in the middle, or something else entirely.  It has the feeling of a Renaissance Fair without the obvious anachronisms.  Or, at the very least, entirely intentional anachronisms.  And it's also related to steam punk, which is a whole other kind of nerdery on which I'm not qualified to comment.

But it strikes me that the investment of time, energy, and creativity so prevalent in cosplay is a kind of misappropriation of talent, skill, and dedication.  For the same reason as Robin Hobb advised against fan fiction, I have to wonder if these people couldn't excel at their own endeavors.  Much like the teacher who wonders if little Johnny couldn't be a prodigy if he just applied himself, I wonder if cosplayers are just not applying themselves.

But I have to take a step back.  After all, I was a writer of fan fiction.  I loved it.  It gave me a sense of community and included me in a creative world that was also a creative outlet and source of inspiration.  Possibly, cosplay does the same.  Nerd, geek, whatever.  It's the community that formed around common interests that really matters. 

But still.  I have to wonder. 

My Favorite Book

Back before assassins were cool (before all the Assassin's Creed hype), I picked up a book about a medieval assassin and have loved it ever since.  What's more, I love the sequels.  And the sequel to the series.  In fact, it might be my favorite book.  Written by Robin Hobb, Assassin's Apprentice leapt to my attention when I was in my middle teens.  I'd recently read the Wheel of Time series (up to book 8 or so at that time) and I needed something else.  I wasn't particularly up on the who's-who of the fantasy world, but I did know that I loved covers by Michael Whelan.  He did Tad William's Memory, Sorrow and Thorn covers and I'd seen his work around.  So when I went into the bookstore looking for something thick (I never bought books less than 800 pages in those days) I found Robin Hobb's Farseer trilogy, with a cover illustration by Michael Whelan.

I remember thinking that the cover looked an awful lot like something from The Once and Future King, or any rendition of King Arthur and Merlin.  A wizened old man holding a lantern over a boy crouched with his dog against a background of a towering castle turret.  But it was a Whelan cover and I had time back in those days to give to just about anything, so I picked it up.  This was Assassin's Apprentice, and like the genre mainstay of young boys altering the course of empires, this was a coming-of-age story, but with a twist.  Yes, the main character is the son of a prince--the crown prince, no less.  But Fitz, as our protagonist is called, is a bastard son of the prince.

Back before it was cool to identify tropes and turn them on their head, Robin Hobb was already doing it here in her Assassin trilogy.  Not only was Fitz a bastard son, he was hated and manipulated into becoming the King's assassin-in-waiting.  Trained in the use of the deadly arts, Fitz has to navigate politics both public and private, constantly glancing over his shoulder.  If being a bastard and a assassin wasn't enough, Fitz is also possessed of the two magical systems this world possesses, the Wit and the Skill.  One allows people to manipulate human thought and emotion, and is used in war and peace to the benefit of the king.  The other is "beast magic" and creates a powerful, sympathetic bond with all animals, but particularly a single animal companion.  Despised by the people, the Wit is a deadly secret that Fitz must guard at all costs.  Which inevitably means it's a secret that's going to get out.

If all this sounds complicated, it really is.  Handled by less deft hands it might have degenerated into something trite.  But Hobb handles it skillfully and weaves a masterful tale that has constantly held my attention.  It is the one book I revisit every few years, and have purchased on several occasions.  In fact, I might go so far as to say that it is my favorite book.  My favorite series.  My favorite pair of trilogies, since she wrote a sequel to the series set nearly twenty years after the conclusion of the first series.  Again, where others might have taken the story someplace trite, Hobb is able to explore not only the world she has created, but also the man her protagonist has become.  Beset by every conceivable trial, he is older, wiser, and harder, yet endearing in his foibles and virtues.  Watching the development of this character through his tempestuous childhood to the sober realities of manhood still is the highlight of my reading experience.  Though I could give you a much deeper plot synopsis, it would be inadequate to express the level of pleasure I derive from reading these books.

I love them.  I hope you will, too.