Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Book Review: Phantom

Phantom is the 10th book in the fantasy series [1], The Sword of Truth, by Terry Goodkind. Goodkind is a starry-eyed acolyte of Ayn Rand and he uses his books as a thinly-veiled proselyting tract  for her philosophy, Objectivism (though if you understand the principles of Objectivism, you'll realize that Goodkind's books don't always exemplify them very well). At the beginning of the series the plot moved along at an enjoyable pace, though much of his worldbuilding was plagiarized from The Wheel of Time (which is a much better series). But the later books became increasingly bogged down with Goodkind's preaching.

As with previous books one of his favorite devices for exposition is to have the main character, Richard Rahl, intuit something and then argue with the rest of the characters about why he's right. They throw every possible counterargument that Goodkind can think of, so Richard can refute them. In the end, Richard always wins these arguments, but along the way we get to see the rest of the characters gnash their teeth, fume, stomp, rail, growl, pull their hair, grimace, etc. [2], before finally conceding that Richard is right.[3] In the first one hundred pages Goodkind draws us into just such a narrative morass, so that he can explain to us the powers and motives of a war wizard in heavily jargonized (and thus obfuscated) terms.[4]

Then he uses the next forty pages or so to provide some backstory from a new character that shows up. This would've been much better presented through the character's point-of-view rather than having her monologue the history. Oy. The end result is that Richard is finally convinced that he must (finally) do something about Jagang and the Old World army coming to attack them. He decides that they need to become terrorists.[5] That's right. They abandon their own country to rove around in the Old World burning fields, poisoning wells, and plundering cities. Has anyone ever won a war that way? Not to my knowledge.[6]

There's something nauseating about the way that practically every female character in the novel has an overwhelming desire to earn Richard's approval and be near him, once they've met him.[7] Equally cloying is the melodramatic yearnings of Richard for his lost love, Kahlan, that seize him every six pages or so: suddenly his knees are about to buckle; suddenly he's dizzy enough to pass out; suddenly he can't breathe; etc. This isn't love—it's obsession.

Goodkind also seems to have no grasp of prisoner psychology. Despite the fact that Kahlan's captors are constantly torturing (not just punishing, but torturing) her for defiance and disobedience, she continues to be defiant and disobedient. Goodkind intends this to confirm the nobility of the human spirit, but it just comes across as unbelievable. I'll concede, though, that the young girl Rachel is more believable as someone held against their will and subjected to torture.

Throughout the series Goodkind and his cherished characters have renounced the existence of a Creator. This is in keeping with the Objectivist belief system. However, in this world there is a devil, called the Keeper of the Underworld (or the Keeper, for short). I am quite sure this doesn't jive with Objectivism. Even more bizarre, in this book a parallel is drawn between a fictional game, called Ja'La, and the core principles of the theory of biological evolution.[8] Which the author subsequently rejects. Now if life wasn't created nor did it spontaneously arise, how does he imagine it came to be?

With a good editor, this novel could've been trimmed down to 200 pages (instead of nearly 700 in the paperback that I read) and been stronger for it. Too often he has characters say things that no real person would say, just so that he can explain or justify his narrative decisions. There were some impressive developments and revelations produced in this book (though the ending was beyond predictable [9]), but they get lost in Goodkind's over-explanatory prose. In other words, his stories are interesting, his writing is not.

My verdict: Goodkind's writing is mostly frustrating to me as a reader. The only reason I continue to read is for closure. If you haven't started this series, you're better off watching it in television form (the canceled Legend of the Seeker) and/or reading the plot synopses on Wikipedia.


Notes:

[1] I underline the word fantasy because Goodkind becomes rather irate when people call his work fantasy. Even though it has witches, wizards, a magical sword, and fantastical creatures (i.e. dragons) all in a made-up world complete with a map, Goodkind insists that it is a literary work that only happens to feature a few fantasy tropes. For an example of his vituperative attitude, see http://cgi1.usatoday.com/mchat/20030805003/tscript.htm.

[2] I wish I were exaggerating, but I'm not.

[3] But I don't have to guess what his marriage is like.

[4] Ironically, Goodkind garnered himself some bad publicity by lashing out at some of his fans when they asked him questions about how magic works in his books when he thought they should be asking him about his cherished characters (who, oddly enough, he repeatedly refers to as "important human beings"). I can't find the interview, now, but in it he compared the magic in his books to a flashlight: the device doesn't matter so much as the people it illuminates.

[5] Whether this distinction is valid or not, I differentiate here guerillas who attack the superior invading source within their own country from terrorists who leave their own country to attack the superior invading force elsewhere in the world.

[6] But hey, this is fantasy, right? Oh, wait. He says it isn't. Hmm…

[7] After reading the previous book (Chainfire), I took a Mary Sue test (this one) for Richard Rahl. Even though I was tempted to check some of the boxes based on what I suspect about Goodkind's perception of his character, I exercised restraint and only checked the boxes I knew to be true. Richard scored 120. Let me put that in perspective: on the scale for that particular incarnation of the test anything over 36 is a Mary Sue and anything over 70 is an irredeemable Mary Sue. Richard is nearly double that. They recommend: "You're going to have to start over, my friend. I know you want to keep writing, but no. Just no."

[8] Namely, natural selection and sexual selection. Natural selection is the idea that an organism which possesses genes which give it an advantage over other similar but not identical organisms, is more likely to survive long enough to procreate. Sexual selection is the idea that an organism which possesses genes which make it more attractive to potential mates than are other similar but not identical organisms, is more likely to  have more and/or healthier offspring.

[9] While we're at it, how is it that such an impeccable, amazing character is constantly being captured?

No comments:

Post a Comment