RANTS AND RAMBLES

• • DISCLAIMER: When I review books, weaknesses and inconsistencies tend to dominate my discussion; therefore, I will emphasize that any particular rant (and, yes, they can be long-winded) does not have special bearing on my unified opinion of the book. For this, please refer to my overall star rating. Additionally, this review is my personal opinion, intended to help like-minded readers navigate the plethora of available options. Use it as a tool but do not assign undue importance to it (i.e. feel free to disagree with me).
  • The writing here is top notch for the age group for whom the book was intended. To understand this, we have to go back and examine the reason this book was written. According to Wikipedia (and we all know the internet never lies), John wrote twenty short stories in an attempt to get his son interested in reading. These stories were adapted into The Ruins of Gorlan ten years later. From these origins, it seems reasonable to deduce this book is intended for young audiences (a fact I could have gone to the back of the book for, where it identifies this book as suitable for ages 10 and up). The writing is succinct and incredibly accessible for this age group, eliminating unnecessary prose yet still creating vivid descriptions and interesting, impactful action sequences. The lens through which the world is viewed and described is a bit juvenile at times, but this is justified because the main characters are children themselves, having just turned fifteen at the start of the book. But John does not let the young target demographic restrict the expanse of his vocabulary. Uncommon words routinely make an appearance in this book in a natural and complementary fashion. Yes, these words could be looked up for their definitions, but often the context is enough to get an idea of what they mean. This is ideal writing for a young audience, simultaneously accessible and challenging.
  • The Smallest of Spoilers: The base world utilized by this book is a generic “medieval” setting complete with class systems, kingdoms, and warring nations. There are a few anachronistic aspects to it, for example, a system which allows our heroes to aspire to the loftiest of positions even though they are orphans. This would be unusual in a strictly realistic sense, but the description in the book works well enough should the reader suspend their disbelief. If I wanted to get very critical of this particular system, I would wonder why farmers or serfs hoping for the best life possible for their children do not abandon them at the castle so they would have a better chance at a more desirable vocation. This does not seem to be happening due to the relatively small number of orphaned wards of the baron. There are a few details which raise this world slightly above the simply average. One example is the Stone Flutes which are situated on the Solitary Plain (yeah, the names of places and physical features is certainly not a strength of this novel). The Stone Flutes are hollowed out so when wind blows through them, they create an eerie, keening sound which can be heard at a great distance. Are these stones naturally occurring, or did a civilization build them? If so, what civilization? How long ago was it, and by association, how old is the current kingdom? What was their purpose? The constant wind of the Solitary Plain means the stones are constantly producing this nerve shredding sound, so if they were created, it seems unlikely they were produced on this plain with constant wind, which would mean the plain was not always a plain. This single, intricate detail adds an incredible depth to the world with a minimum amount of description. I don’t know if this mystery will ever be explained, and I don’t care. It has already served its purpose to make this world, otherwise a bit generic, feel lived in and real.
  • Spoilers: Probably my biggest gripe with this book falls to a single scene which sends, in my opinion, a bad message. Horace is bullied by three upperclassmen over the course of his warrior training. During this entire episode, Horace puts up with the bullying because he believes it to be a standard part of the warrior training curriculum, so to speak. Eventually these upperclassmen physically assault Horace and then go to do the same to Will. Horace follows them, rescues Will from being beat up, and resolves the situation. The bullies are not a threat anymore, and Horace and Will are safe. I have a problem with what happens next. With the help of Will’s mentor, Horace goes one-on-one against each of the bullies with wooden practice swords. This is not really a fair fight as it has been established previously in the book that Horace is one of the best swordsmen in his class. Halt forces the three bullies, under threat of injury, to go one round each with Horace who beats them with his wooden sword (they have swords as well, but he outclasses them), paddle one as though he is a child, kick one in the butt when he has fallen to the ground, and smash one in the chin with a fist. Each boy is pretty substantially bruised up by the end of this, and it seems this is supposed to be cathartic for Horace as he keeps going until he feels he has “paid back all the bullying, the insults and the pain that he had suffered” on his oppressors. This sort of outlet to pent-up rage does not seem to be a very heroic thing to do, and if this scene had been played to show faults in Horace’s character and progress some sort of character arc for him, it would have been fine. Instead, it is presented as perfectly fine, the logical and just consequences of the bullies’ actions. It is particularly odd since situation like these are often handled in books by setting up a situation where use of force would be totally justified in self-defense or defense of another. That is not the case here, and it makes me wonder what John was trying to convey in this scene. It is important to note here that this sort of bullying, also known as hazing, is not uncommon in these sorts of situations which makes the manner in which it is handled very important. The message this seems to send is that if you find yourself being bullied, you are justified to brutalize your oppressors when the opportunity arises. To me, that seems like the setup for a villain, not a hero.
  • Spoilers: At the end of the book, it is suddenly revealed that Alyss has feelings (I guess?) for Will when she gives him a smooch. This is awkward and shoehorned in since Alyss is barely in the book, and there is certainly no time to develop any sort of romantic subplot nor any indication that this is the direction things are going. Consequently, when the kiss happens, it comes out of left field and has no weight to it and no use or place in this novel. Payoffs like this only work if you put in the legwork to build up to them. This particular subplot seems like it would have been best left to a future book in the series where it could be done properly. I won’t rag on John too much, though, since I did the exact same thing in the first version of my first novel. Fortunately, the people who beta read it for me pointed out how it did not make any sense, leading to a shuffling of things and a considerably better story in the end.