Book Review: Four Roads Cross by Max Gladstone

Max Gladstone’s critically acclaimed Craft Sequence series of novels got its fifth installment this year and the latest release, Four Roads Cross, says so much about how his writing has grown over time and how much depth the series has gained.

Disclaimer: I’m a huge Craft Sequence fan, as it you might remember from my reviews of Full Fathom Five and Last First Snow, but I wasn’t immediately on board with its first book, Three Parts Dead. When I read that book, I wondered: Why do people love this so much? I did appreciate things about it (the black female lead represented on the cover, multiple female characters yet no sign of a romance subplot, the unique setting) but I couldn’t embrace it since I found it kind of . . . dull, honestly. My biggest problem was that I couldn’t really connect with Tara since we didn’t learn much about her. Having now read Four Roads Cross in its entirety, I can now say that this is no longer the case. This is another great entry into this series.

The basic plot is thus: A year after Three Parts Dead, Tara Abernathy now serves as the inhouse Craftswoman for the church of Kos the Everburning. The problem? The moon goddess Seril is back and the people aren’t happy. Protests rock the streets; journalists interfere; and one of Tara’s old classmates from the Hidden School is working with a necromantic firm to take over the church. Officer Catherine “Cat” Elle and her vampire friend Raz are also in this book, getting involved in all sorts of situations. Oh, and a farmer’s market plays a large role and adds an extra human element.

As with the previous entries, this book uses the Craft and the fictional gods as a way to talk about finances, the effect of religion in a post-industrial society, class struggles, and more. Every side is presented and even though Gladstone takes a hard look at modern values and society, he never falls into the trap of portraying the “old ways” as inherently superior. Just like in the current global nation-states most of us reside in, the characters of the Craft Sequence have to work to find the right balance. But don’t think this book is just about social issues or is depressing. There’s lots of cool worldbuilding, like the use of a dragon in one chapter or golems for travel. And there's plenty of action that's well-written and cinematic in scope. 

The prose in this book shows how Gladstone’s writing has grown. Certain passages of this book were beautiful, though at times his descriptions were a bit over-wrought. His pacing has certainly improved. His dialogue has also gotten better with time.

My favorite thing about the book, as tends to be the case, were the characters. Of this cast, Cat shone to me. Her path to get over her addiction and her friendship with Raz, who was also great, was empowering and fun. Tara truly became a character to me in this book: now I understand her motivations, her struggles, insecurities, and I loved her relationship with Seril as they learned to work together and co-exist despite Tara’s lack of faith. Abelard continues to be a sympathetic and likable believer. New additions like Ellen Rafferty stood out. (For fans of the series, there are cameos of a few characters from the other books and they are great.) And that’s just a few of the dynamic and fascinating characters the book provides.

In summary, Four Roads Cross is a great entry into the Craft Sequence. It also serves as a proper sequel to Three Parts Dead, even improving on that book in many ways. It's not my favorite entry, as I'm still in love Last First Snow, but if you liked Three Parts Dead or if, like me, you were kind of "meh" on it but are interested in more of this world, give it a shot. If you're a fan of the Sequence in general, it continues the excellent quality Max Gladstone has become known for. I enthusiastically recommend it.

Score: 4.5/5

Book Review: Last First Snow by Max Gladstone

Every year in fantasy there comes what Jo Walton termed the “important book.” This is the book that’s everywhere, that’s reviewed by everyone in the genre, ends up on most of the critic best of the year lists, and creates a love-it-or-hate-it response from readers due to its polarizing nature. Last year the most obvious examples of important novels were City of Stairs by Robert Jackson Bennett and the Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer. Like Walton, I believe that there are some books that should have become important novels but simply never got the same level of attention they deserved. This year in fantasy has given us possible important novels (like The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu, Uprooted by Naomi Novik) but if given the choice for one that's likely to slip through the cracks, my vote is going to Last First Snow by Max Gladstone.

I’ve written about Gladstone before. As far as I’m concerned, his Craft Sequence is the most exciting new fantasy series published in recent years. Through this thematic series, Max Gladstone has used his magic system of the Craft and the Deathless Kings to explore issues relevant to our time: the tyranny of corporations, water shortages, the rise of secularization and its effect on religious fervor. His vibrant, diverse, and complex characters grapple with very modern problems in a world so much like our own. The most impressive thing about these books isn’t that they’re like reality—it’s how he manages to show how different his universe is while still revealing universal truths of the human condition, all while still telling an entertaining story. In this latest entry, Gladstone tackles his most political subject yet: protest.

In Dresediel Lex, the wards in the Skittersill are falling and if they do fall, it could literally set demons on the world. So to try and develop the area, the King in Red hires Craftswoman Elayne Kevarian to help negotiate a deal. The only problem is that the people of the Skittersill have their own plans for the future, and they have their own leader in Temoc, a priest of the old gods who’s taken to community organizing while trying to create a better future for his family. To quote the front flap: “Elayne and Temoc must fight conspiracy, dark magic, and their own demons to save the peace—or failing that, to save as many people as they can.”

This novel doesn’t sugarcoat its issues. Instead, Gladstone writes a complex, multi-layered story where there are no true heroes or villains. As in real life, sometimes the characters have to make deals with the opposing side despite feeling that they’ve compromised everything they’ve ever believed in. As in life, they all have a point. And as in life, they find no easy answers or solutions. Life is messy and so is the way things eventually end up in Last First Snow. The novel comes to a proper conclusion, if one that the reader may have wished could have been avoided. But it’s that staunch realism and brutal truth about life that the novel offers that makes it such a compelling read, if not a very optimistic one. Make no mistake: this is a very entertaining book, with lots of dramatic tension and action in the latter half. However, due to its serious subject matter and grey morality, it may not be the ideal choice for those looking for a light, escapist read.

As with every Craft Sequence entry, Last First Snow’s highlight is its characters. Returning to the series are Elayne, the King in Red, and Temoc. As this novel is set chronologically twenty years before Two Serpents Rise, Gladstone uses the events of the story to help develop Elayne and Temoc into the characters as we knew them in Two Serpents Rise and Three Parts Dead. While I’d always found Elayne to be one of the more interesting older female characters in fantasy literature, seeing her as the protagonist and seeing things through her own perspective humanized her in such a way that I can definitely say that she is easily my favorite Craft Sequence protagonist yet. Temoc is another I came to really understand and love through this book; while I may not have agreed with every choice he made, he remained sympathetic throughout the narrative. Kopil, the King in Red, is just as frustrating as he’s ever been; he makes good points and his choices are understandable, but they are still quite hard to forgive. Gladstone also introduces several new and interesting additions: Temoc's wife, Mina, a wonderful and determined woman; Chel, conflicted but strong; Tan Batac, born and raised in the Skittersill but has been away long enough to be considered the enemy by its people; and the Major, who was perhaps my favorite new character for the mystery surrounding this character and just how dedicated they were to the cause. (Though I was a bit confused by a certain revelation regarding the Major and just what the reader was supposed to have learned about the Major's identity.)

The prose is just as the other books are, so there’s not much to say there: the usual clipped sentences, with lots of fragments and one-line paragraphs. It’s a style that can get very frustrating, but it does work.

Diversity-wise, the novel can claim to feature two older protagonists. Both Elayne and Temoc are over fifty. Elayne is actually a rather rare breed in the fantasy genre: a female protagonist who is over fifty, unmarried, and childless who is portrayed as neither hating men nor children and is in fact the most fair-hearted person in the novel. Also, Temoc’s culture is heavily inspired by the indigenous cultures of America.

In summary, Last First Snow is a fantastic novel. It expands the fantasy genre in terms of character, setting, and plot choice. The style is easy to read and very compelling; the narrative gives just as much tension and suspense to court negotiations as to genuine action scenes. It’s not a novel for everyone, but it’s certainly worth a look. Perhaps the biggest flaw is just how slow the pace is for its first half, but once the halfway mark is passed, everything comes together. What it sacrifices in pacing it gains in perhaps the most well-developed cast of characters Max Gladstone has given us yet. If it doesn’t become one of the illusive “important novels,” it will certainly be one I and other likeminded readers will cherish—at least until the next one comes out. Highly recommended.

Score: 4.5/5

Book Review: The Drowning Girl: A Memoir by Caitlin R. Kiernan

Fantasy fiction has long been crossed over with other genres, including romance, its sister genre, science-fiction, horror, and the supernatural. Caitlin Kiernan has made a career of mixing her dark fantasy works with a sense of horror, though it never consumes her work. Kiernan, a longtime author and trained paleontologist, received a great deal of acclaim for The Drowning Girl, winning the James Tiptree, Jr. Award and the Bram Stoker Award for Superior Achievement in a Novel. After having read the reviews, I decided that a novel that got so much buzz and so many award nominations had to be experienced myself. Having read it and given it some time to digest, I can certainly proclaim it an unforgettable work that any lover of literary fantasy or experimental fiction in general should experience at least once. 

The novel, as the subtitle implies, is structured like a memoir in that our protagonist, India Morgan Phelps (called Imp), narrates her “ghost story” like a memoir she’s writing down months after the main events in her story take place; it is not finished, however. Like any story or life in general, Imp’s ghost story continues long after the event that set everything into motion. Structured into ten chapters with interludes for other writing Imp does, including short stories, Kiernan uses the novel to explore the concept of the unreliable narrator in a way that confused me more than any other instance—this was most prominent in chapter 7 (be warned—Imp rambles incoherently almost the whole chapter and it almost made me quit the book).

Our narrator, Imp, is a sympathetic and well-rounded protagonist. Born into a family where she’s inherited schizophrenia from her mother, who in turn got it from her mother, and so on, she struggles throughout the novel to tell reality from her own fantasies, all while connecting the dots of her ghost story. Her voice shrines through in a way that feels authentic to her experiences but also assured. Another strong character is her girlfriend, Abalyn, who Kiernan uses to ground Imp. Abalyn is there to offer support, to show someone who, like Imp, is also an outsider (she is a transwoman) but not as much as Imp so that even Abalyn sometimes doubts her girlfriend’s own testimonies. There is also the mysterious Eva Canning who may be a werewolf, a mermaid, or something else entirely. Kiernan injects her narrative with just enough of Imp’s backstory to help bring to life her late mother and grandmother to help flesh them out but also add context to Imp’s own character. Essentially, the character work is masterful and handled with grace and care. 

The plot I will not say much about lest I spoil any of the various twists and turns. The titular Drowning Girl in the novel is a painting by Phillip George Saltonstall. First encountered by Imp on her eleventh birthday, the painting is referenced several times and is essential to the mysteries of the plot. 

The prose in this work shines. Every word is well-placed. In some ways it is lyrical, and in others it truly feels like a memoir written by someone. That perfect balance adds to the personal and haunting elements of the novel. 

Perhaps my favorite element of the novel was its sense of place. The novel is set in Providence, Rhode Island, which is where Caitlin Kiernan herself lives. It shows in the details—the streets named, the sense of history, the cultural idioms unique to the area. . . . All this profoundly helped me immserse myself in this work.
 

Most of what I say has been articulated better before by many reviewers (see this review by Elizabeth Bear or this review for Strange Horizons ) but The Drowning Girl is a true masterwork. It, to me, should be held up as a novel of the fantasy genre up there with the best of authors like Angela Carter and Ursula Le Guin for its ability to play with narrative, memory, fantasy, and the inner struggles of its characters. It won't be for everyone (there are some sex scenes in the later chapters that slip into purple prose territory that I found myself skipping); the slow pace and the rambling narration may be a turnoff to some readers. However, like any great art, its broad appeal to fantasy readers and even to those outside genre should help it continue to find an audience for many years to come. I highly recommend it.

Score: 5/5