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Fight for Your Side. Command The Galaxy. The Galactic War rages on. Where does your allegiance...
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I will never tire of this man. Whatever he wants. Whenever he wants it. I will accept it all. All of...
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The international literary sensation, about a boy's quest through the secrets and shadows of postwar...
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By the early l940s, when Ukrainian-born Irène Némirovsky began working on what would become Suite...
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Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Banewreaker in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Banewreaker Will Make You Feel Bad for Sauron
Contains spoilers, click to show
Very few fantasy fans can get away with admitting that they aren’t all that big into sweeping, high epic fantasy à la Lord of the Rings or the Pern stories or everything that Terry Brooks writes. Many non-fantasy fans, however, can point to these tales as examples of why they aren’t into fantasy. Like it or not, it’s hard not to see the latter group’s point, as a lot of high fantasy is riddled with confusing terminology, rehashed stories, and genre clichés. This is not to say that these stories are bad, per sé, just that they can easily turn off readers who aren’t in the right kind of crowd.
Banewreaker, the first book in Jacqueline Carey’s two-part volume The Sundering, will probably not change any opinions in this respect, then, as it’s sweeping high fantasy to the core. This, as it turns out, is both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness.
There are some reviews out there that laud Banewreaker as a masterful examination of subjective viewpoints in an epic fantasy turned into a human tragedy by a simple change of perspective. And they are absolutely correct.
There are other reviews, however, that call the book out as a heap of all of the stalest fantasy clichés piled one atop the other in a confusing and pretentious jumble with a shellacking of purple prose for good measure. And they are also absolutely correct.
Let me explain.
For starters, it would be inaccurate to say that this story is full of clichés. This story is clichés. This story is every familiar and used-up trope you would expect from a high fantasy, all of those details that have been done to death in thousands of other versions until almost nothing that happens seems original anymore.
This is what’s going to turn off a lot of people. But the thing is, Banewreaker has to be this way. It wants the reader to look at all of the things that they’ve come to expect from a fantasy epic and then, by shifting the narrative focus, realize that all of these beloved tropes are actually, when you think about it, tragic as hell.
In other words, it’s Lord of the Rings from Sauron’s point of view.
It’s not a riff, though. It’s not goofy like most of the stuff I go in for. It takes its subject just as seriously as the stories that it’s mirroring, and this is what makes the whole story ultimately so gripping and so moving.
The story starts out like many stories of this magnitude, with exposition stretching back to the Dawn of This Particular Creation. In this case, we have a protogenos world god named Uru-Alat who died and gave rise to seven smaller godlike beings called Shapers. First comes Haomane, who becomes the Lord of Thought and sets himself up as head honcho for this ensuing pantheon. Second is Arahila, the Basically a Love Goddess; and third is Satoris, whose purview was “the quickening of the flesh,” which is high fantasy speak for sexy times. Four more Shapers come after this who, for the sake of brevity, we’ll be glossing over.
To summarize the important godly exposition, the Seven Shapers set about shaping the world to the surprise of no one. Haomane creates elves (here called Ellyl, but if you’ve ever even looked at a fantasy, you know that they’re the elves here), Arahila creates humans, and Satoris doesn’t create anything because he’s busy hanging out with dragons and learning their wisdom. Satoris grants his fleshy quickening to the humans but not the elves, because Haomane didn’t want his elves to do that. Then Haomane decides he doesn’t want the humans to do that either, but Satoris refuses to take the gift away again. Conflict escalates, god wars ensue, and the world splits into two continents, with Satoris ostracized from his brethren on one and the remaining Shapers on the other. By the time the dust has settled, Satoris is scarred and burned pitch black, living in a mostly dead land thanks to Haomane’s wrath, but with a dagger in his possession that is the only weapon capable of killing any of the Shapers.
The story itself picks up thousands of years later, with Satoris as the Satan/Sauron stand-in living in a forbidding land surrounded by classically evil things like trolls, giant spiders, and insane people. Since Haomane is the head god, the rest of the world believes Satoris to be a terrible figure of evil and betrayal, while Satoris’s few allies know him as a pitiable and misunderstood figure who only ever wanted to honor his word and do right by his own sense of morality rather than the dictates of his elder brother god king.
From here the plot becomes the typical Army of Good vs. Army of Evil adventure, but with the protagonistic focus on Satoris and his allies. His trolls we see not as a mindless horde but as a simple, honorable people who happily serve their lord because he happily serves them right back. The mad individuals inhabiting his fortress are castaways from normal society with nowhere else to go. And the giant spiders just happen to live there and be bigger than normal, with no sinister intentions beyond that.
And just like that, by actually showing us the home life of the ultimate in evil fantasy tropes, we see how easily one side’s view of evil is another’s view of good. In doing so, Banewreaker becomes perhaps the first sweeping fantasy epic with no real bad guy, just two sides of an unfortunate conflict. Both sides have their likeable characters, both sides seem from their view to be in the right, and pretty soon you, as the reader, will stop cheering for either one, because whenever one person that you like succeeds it means that another person whom you also like is failing.
In fact, the closest thing that this story has to a clearly-labeled “evil” character is the sorceress Lilias, and even then, she’s not evil so much as a woman who has done some bad things for completely understandable reasons. Lilias, in fact, is one of the most pitiful characters in this whole saga of pitiable characters, with her fears and attachments closely mirroring those of most readers, only amplified by her immortality and magical powers. She is afraid of dying. She wants to be more in the grand scheme of things than just another man’s wife or another country’s momentary ruler, both of which would just be tiny moments in a long history. She likes her youth. She likes having pretty things and pretty people around her. And from her interactions with her dragon mentor and apparently only friend, Calandor, we see that she is also capable of intense affection and even love just as she is capable of indulging in self-centered self-interest that, if not particularly a good trait, is also one that she is not alone in possessing.
Banewreaker, then, is a story with a large cast of characters but very few actual heroes or innocents as well as very few outright villains, which is exactly what it sets out to be. Those who love it and those who hate it both seem to blame this quality in particular for their feelings. The biggest complaint leveled against it (that I have read, anyway) is that the people we should be rooting for do not deserve our sympathy, while the people we should be rooting against are more misguided and unwilling to see things in another light than deserving of our scorn.
This is true. But if it’s a flaw, it’s an intentional one. And if it makes you feel like you shouldn’t be cheering for either side at all in this conflict, that’s the point. This is a story of clichés, yes, but it has something that it needs to say about these clichés and, in doing so, about the subjective and impossibly nebulous quality of morality in general.
In short, here again is another fantasy story about the Forces of Good wiping out an entire nation dedicated to their “evil” enemy. And as the story points out, even if you believe in that cause, you’re still wiping out an entire nation of people. No way is there not a downside to that. Seeing things in a black-and-white morality just means crushing a whole lot of important shades of gray underfoot.
Whether or not you like Banewreaker, then, depends in large part upon how much you realize that Carey as an author is being self-aware. As someone who read and still hasn’t stopped being awed over her Kushiel series, I can’t claim complete objectivity in this area, because I came to Banewreaker already in love with her. I can say, however, that unless you have an intense and searing aversion to ornate and sweeping style, this book is worth any fantasy-lover’s time – especially if you’ve ever felt a pang of empathy for all of the poor villainous mooks that fantasy heroes tend to mow down without a thought because they were the wrong kind of ugly.
Banewreaker, the first book in Jacqueline Carey’s two-part volume The Sundering, will probably not change any opinions in this respect, then, as it’s sweeping high fantasy to the core. This, as it turns out, is both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness.
There are some reviews out there that laud Banewreaker as a masterful examination of subjective viewpoints in an epic fantasy turned into a human tragedy by a simple change of perspective. And they are absolutely correct.
There are other reviews, however, that call the book out as a heap of all of the stalest fantasy clichés piled one atop the other in a confusing and pretentious jumble with a shellacking of purple prose for good measure. And they are also absolutely correct.
Let me explain.
For starters, it would be inaccurate to say that this story is full of clichés. This story is clichés. This story is every familiar and used-up trope you would expect from a high fantasy, all of those details that have been done to death in thousands of other versions until almost nothing that happens seems original anymore.
This is what’s going to turn off a lot of people. But the thing is, Banewreaker has to be this way. It wants the reader to look at all of the things that they’ve come to expect from a fantasy epic and then, by shifting the narrative focus, realize that all of these beloved tropes are actually, when you think about it, tragic as hell.
In other words, it’s Lord of the Rings from Sauron’s point of view.
It’s not a riff, though. It’s not goofy like most of the stuff I go in for. It takes its subject just as seriously as the stories that it’s mirroring, and this is what makes the whole story ultimately so gripping and so moving.
The story starts out like many stories of this magnitude, with exposition stretching back to the Dawn of This Particular Creation. In this case, we have a protogenos world god named Uru-Alat who died and gave rise to seven smaller godlike beings called Shapers. First comes Haomane, who becomes the Lord of Thought and sets himself up as head honcho for this ensuing pantheon. Second is Arahila, the Basically a Love Goddess; and third is Satoris, whose purview was “the quickening of the flesh,” which is high fantasy speak for sexy times. Four more Shapers come after this who, for the sake of brevity, we’ll be glossing over.
To summarize the important godly exposition, the Seven Shapers set about shaping the world to the surprise of no one. Haomane creates elves (here called Ellyl, but if you’ve ever even looked at a fantasy, you know that they’re the elves here), Arahila creates humans, and Satoris doesn’t create anything because he’s busy hanging out with dragons and learning their wisdom. Satoris grants his fleshy quickening to the humans but not the elves, because Haomane didn’t want his elves to do that. Then Haomane decides he doesn’t want the humans to do that either, but Satoris refuses to take the gift away again. Conflict escalates, god wars ensue, and the world splits into two continents, with Satoris ostracized from his brethren on one and the remaining Shapers on the other. By the time the dust has settled, Satoris is scarred and burned pitch black, living in a mostly dead land thanks to Haomane’s wrath, but with a dagger in his possession that is the only weapon capable of killing any of the Shapers.
The story itself picks up thousands of years later, with Satoris as the Satan/Sauron stand-in living in a forbidding land surrounded by classically evil things like trolls, giant spiders, and insane people. Since Haomane is the head god, the rest of the world believes Satoris to be a terrible figure of evil and betrayal, while Satoris’s few allies know him as a pitiable and misunderstood figure who only ever wanted to honor his word and do right by his own sense of morality rather than the dictates of his elder brother god king.
From here the plot becomes the typical Army of Good vs. Army of Evil adventure, but with the protagonistic focus on Satoris and his allies. His trolls we see not as a mindless horde but as a simple, honorable people who happily serve their lord because he happily serves them right back. The mad individuals inhabiting his fortress are castaways from normal society with nowhere else to go. And the giant spiders just happen to live there and be bigger than normal, with no sinister intentions beyond that.
And just like that, by actually showing us the home life of the ultimate in evil fantasy tropes, we see how easily one side’s view of evil is another’s view of good. In doing so, Banewreaker becomes perhaps the first sweeping fantasy epic with no real bad guy, just two sides of an unfortunate conflict. Both sides have their likeable characters, both sides seem from their view to be in the right, and pretty soon you, as the reader, will stop cheering for either one, because whenever one person that you like succeeds it means that another person whom you also like is failing.
In fact, the closest thing that this story has to a clearly-labeled “evil” character is the sorceress Lilias, and even then, she’s not evil so much as a woman who has done some bad things for completely understandable reasons. Lilias, in fact, is one of the most pitiful characters in this whole saga of pitiable characters, with her fears and attachments closely mirroring those of most readers, only amplified by her immortality and magical powers. She is afraid of dying. She wants to be more in the grand scheme of things than just another man’s wife or another country’s momentary ruler, both of which would just be tiny moments in a long history. She likes her youth. She likes having pretty things and pretty people around her. And from her interactions with her dragon mentor and apparently only friend, Calandor, we see that she is also capable of intense affection and even love just as she is capable of indulging in self-centered self-interest that, if not particularly a good trait, is also one that she is not alone in possessing.
Banewreaker, then, is a story with a large cast of characters but very few actual heroes or innocents as well as very few outright villains, which is exactly what it sets out to be. Those who love it and those who hate it both seem to blame this quality in particular for their feelings. The biggest complaint leveled against it (that I have read, anyway) is that the people we should be rooting for do not deserve our sympathy, while the people we should be rooting against are more misguided and unwilling to see things in another light than deserving of our scorn.
This is true. But if it’s a flaw, it’s an intentional one. And if it makes you feel like you shouldn’t be cheering for either side at all in this conflict, that’s the point. This is a story of clichés, yes, but it has something that it needs to say about these clichés and, in doing so, about the subjective and impossibly nebulous quality of morality in general.
In short, here again is another fantasy story about the Forces of Good wiping out an entire nation dedicated to their “evil” enemy. And as the story points out, even if you believe in that cause, you’re still wiping out an entire nation of people. No way is there not a downside to that. Seeing things in a black-and-white morality just means crushing a whole lot of important shades of gray underfoot.
Whether or not you like Banewreaker, then, depends in large part upon how much you realize that Carey as an author is being self-aware. As someone who read and still hasn’t stopped being awed over her Kushiel series, I can’t claim complete objectivity in this area, because I came to Banewreaker already in love with her. I can say, however, that unless you have an intense and searing aversion to ornate and sweeping style, this book is worth any fantasy-lover’s time – especially if you’ve ever felt a pang of empathy for all of the poor villainous mooks that fantasy heroes tend to mow down without a thought because they were the wrong kind of ugly.
RəX Regent (349 KP) rated Hell's Angels (1930) in Movies
Feb 19, 2019
Big budget, elaborate air combat scenes which resulted in several deaths and Gimmick after gimmick… This has to be the Howard Hughes’ World War 1 epic, Hell’s Angels.
Where to begin?
Well, we follow the Routledge two brothers as they join the war effort and the Royal Air Corps. in 1914 and whilst one is a somewhat cowardly womaniser, his brother is the noble heroic type who spends the film being screwed over bey everyone in one way or another, but most notably by his girlfriend, Jean Harlow, who is so annoyingly wrong for him that it is a relief when he has heart is broken by her in the third act.
But like mots aspects of this plot, this is as messy and disjointed as everything else. We are given a story line to follow for two hours, as Hughes indulges his legendary love of flying to create some of the best dog fight sequences ever committed to film. They are real, epic and effective in conveying the thrilling danger of these world war one battles.
But this is a film of gimmick. Pushing the pre-code envelope with sex and bad language, this was originally conceived as a silent movie and was re-written and re-shot to become the sound movie whcih we have to today and there in clearly lies the problem. What we end up is a movie cobbled together, with silence sequences being converted to sound, the poor acting from its star James Hall as the idealistic Roy Routledge, Jean Harlow, replacing the original silent star Gretta Nissen for this sound version, excelling in her role as his trampy girlfriend and Ben Lyon as the weaker brother, Monte, but the real star of this show are the special effects.
But of the human stars, Harlow, presented here in the only colour footage known to exist of the tragic star, who would die at the young age of 26 just seven years later, probably delivers one of the best performances in the whole picture, certainly outshining her male co-stars.
Of the special effects though, the use of 2-tone Technicolor, which was actually shot with the Metrocolor system but processed by Technicolor, in one sequence as the group are all together at a party, as well as the classical use of tints during some other scenes, add a vibrancy to the project. But this also can have a jarring effect, especially as we leave the colour scenes and wrap up thet sequences in black and white.
But the model effects, notably the munition raid at the end and the Zeppelin bombing London scenes are spectacular, especially for the time. The other notable gimmick which has yet to be transferred to the small screen, was the original use of what was called Magnascope back in 1930.
This was obviously only used at high end theaters but this paved the way for what IMAX are doing now, by blowing up the aerial scenes into a larger screen format from the 1.20:1 ratio which the the rest of film was presented. But when you add all this up you have got a mess!
Magnascope, technicolor scenes, tinted scenes, daring aerial battles, a half arsed love story and an image of world war which was a kin to that of Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor’s (2001) view of World War 2! But this is what this is. An early, lavish popcorn blockbuster, with little to offer but cinematic thrills, which it succeeds at without any doubt.
The action is great, the plot is mediocre to say the least but as film, it does offer a brief insight into how cinema audiences saw the Great War back in 1930 and you can not help but think that this audience was only nine years away from the next one as we watch this.
pictureBut the ending was grim, with noble ends rounding off a story of brotherly love and love of duty and country, seems overblown considering what we had had to sit through but still, by the end, is anybody really routing for the Routledge brothers to have a happy ending?
I certainly was not. But this ending is the nearest thing that this film has to a story arc, as is pays off the opening act where Roy risks his life fighting a duel for his cowardly brother against the very German officer who is about to have them executed.
Duty wins out and Monte sees the light at the end after a very melodramatic death scene.
But having said all that, this film is worth it for the action alone and for film buffs, the only colour footage of Jean Harlow.
Where to begin?
Well, we follow the Routledge two brothers as they join the war effort and the Royal Air Corps. in 1914 and whilst one is a somewhat cowardly womaniser, his brother is the noble heroic type who spends the film being screwed over bey everyone in one way or another, but most notably by his girlfriend, Jean Harlow, who is so annoyingly wrong for him that it is a relief when he has heart is broken by her in the third act.
But like mots aspects of this plot, this is as messy and disjointed as everything else. We are given a story line to follow for two hours, as Hughes indulges his legendary love of flying to create some of the best dog fight sequences ever committed to film. They are real, epic and effective in conveying the thrilling danger of these world war one battles.
But this is a film of gimmick. Pushing the pre-code envelope with sex and bad language, this was originally conceived as a silent movie and was re-written and re-shot to become the sound movie whcih we have to today and there in clearly lies the problem. What we end up is a movie cobbled together, with silence sequences being converted to sound, the poor acting from its star James Hall as the idealistic Roy Routledge, Jean Harlow, replacing the original silent star Gretta Nissen for this sound version, excelling in her role as his trampy girlfriend and Ben Lyon as the weaker brother, Monte, but the real star of this show are the special effects.
But of the human stars, Harlow, presented here in the only colour footage known to exist of the tragic star, who would die at the young age of 26 just seven years later, probably delivers one of the best performances in the whole picture, certainly outshining her male co-stars.
Of the special effects though, the use of 2-tone Technicolor, which was actually shot with the Metrocolor system but processed by Technicolor, in one sequence as the group are all together at a party, as well as the classical use of tints during some other scenes, add a vibrancy to the project. But this also can have a jarring effect, especially as we leave the colour scenes and wrap up thet sequences in black and white.
But the model effects, notably the munition raid at the end and the Zeppelin bombing London scenes are spectacular, especially for the time. The other notable gimmick which has yet to be transferred to the small screen, was the original use of what was called Magnascope back in 1930.
This was obviously only used at high end theaters but this paved the way for what IMAX are doing now, by blowing up the aerial scenes into a larger screen format from the 1.20:1 ratio which the the rest of film was presented. But when you add all this up you have got a mess!
Magnascope, technicolor scenes, tinted scenes, daring aerial battles, a half arsed love story and an image of world war which was a kin to that of Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor’s (2001) view of World War 2! But this is what this is. An early, lavish popcorn blockbuster, with little to offer but cinematic thrills, which it succeeds at without any doubt.
The action is great, the plot is mediocre to say the least but as film, it does offer a brief insight into how cinema audiences saw the Great War back in 1930 and you can not help but think that this audience was only nine years away from the next one as we watch this.
pictureBut the ending was grim, with noble ends rounding off a story of brotherly love and love of duty and country, seems overblown considering what we had had to sit through but still, by the end, is anybody really routing for the Routledge brothers to have a happy ending?
I certainly was not. But this ending is the nearest thing that this film has to a story arc, as is pays off the opening act where Roy risks his life fighting a duel for his cowardly brother against the very German officer who is about to have them executed.
Duty wins out and Monte sees the light at the end after a very melodramatic death scene.
But having said all that, this film is worth it for the action alone and for film buffs, the only colour footage of Jean Harlow.