The Wandering Fire, by Guy Gavriel Kay, second book in the Fionavar series, takes us back to a land of myth and mystery, heroes and villains, magic and wonder – yes, we're back in Canada!Those who liked the first book will not find any surprises here, at least not on the surface of things. Kay's excellent prose is back, a strange mix of clipped sentences and lots of ellipses, and high, formal language that, for the first few pages takes a bit of getting used to, but once it clicks everything is right with the world. The type of writing used here needs full commitment from the writer – it needs to be sincere, or it quickly becomes parody, and Kay is in almost perfect control, rarely slipping. It does not need to be dour and overly serious, but it needs that level of sincerity to work.All your favourite characters are back, too – that one guy, the other guy and his friend, and some other ones. Yes, there are quite a lot of characters for a relatively short book (though not nearly in the league of various other fantasy novels, thank God), and I worried for a bit that some of them would feel forced in, or be left at the side of the road, but overall I feel that everyone gets their moment, and Kay is good at the little touches that add character and personality. Kevin could easily be underdeveloped, and is to some degree, but the little touches of insecurity and jealousy between the boys, thought but never expressed, works wonders. Also, the killer swan is back – I know you were all hoping it would be, so rejoicing may commence. We also meet new characters, and Kay adds another layer to the notion that all worlds are connected (as an aside, I wonder if Stephen King had read this when he developed his later Dark Tower books) by adding further explicit elements of our mythology to his world – most notably in the shape of King Arthur (as in, chronologically privileged royalty, and “Fetch me a grail, please” - note that we do actually have a grail of sorts in this book) and taking this series away from its vaguely Tolkien-esque beginnings and into Susan Cooper territory, which works very well.Every character finds their place, so far at least, and while it at times seems a little too perfect when someone finds his or her place in the world, this ultimately fits the theme of cycles and many worlds well. These men and women are archetypes, playing out predetermined parts, and much of the drama comes from us wanting them to break free, and from them knowing that they are caught in something, while engaged with an enemy that is not bound. This is a tragedy, of course, and we know that every victory is going to be hard won.This series is essentially meta fantasy – this is fantasy about fantasy, filled to the brim with reference and allusion, where all worlds are connected, and all mythology spills in. I think Kay was having a lot of fun experimenting with style, here. It feels like a challenge to create “high fantasy”, and while this can often go terribly wrong, that note of sincerity saves this completely, and it remains a gripping, remarkable series in its own right, rather than something derivative.My only slight problem with this book in particular, though also somewhat with the first one, is that there are some slightly unfortunate gender issues at times, but they are minor, and if we look at fantasy in general, this is obviously light years ahead of the majority. I was quite impressed with how it handled the aftermath of the first book.In conclusion, bring on the third book. Rating: 4 Cavalls out of 5
the second book in the Fionavar Tapestry is not quite as impressive as the first, but hey it's still pretty damn good. two things in particular stick out for me:Sex. i love how this novel places sexuality at the center of much of its magic, both implicitly and explicitly. it is really refreshing. and not corny! i suppose that is the danger of including sex in fantasy - if its not done right, it is a trashy sex scene or, even worse, an eye-rolling tantric experience featuring new age nonsense that makes me gag. sexuality in this novel is mysterious, natural, unnatural, a profound part of some magic, a threatening form in other kinds of magic, and just a regular part of life as well, no big deal. it is taken seriously but it is also not turned into the whole point either - it is an important part of the tapestry, so to speak. it is a refreshingly adult perspective.Rape. at the end of the last novel, a major character was captured, tormented, and raped repeatedly. it was a horrifying sequence and also exceedingly, surprisingly well-done. i have actually never read its like before in a fantasy novel - i was horrified while simultaneously impressed by the language, by the ability of the author to remove all traces of potential, repulsive "sexiness", by the way the author showed how the raped character retained her strength while never shying away from how truly negating the experience was, in every way imaginable. in the sequel, Jennifer does not just bounce back. it is not an easy journey for her and she doesn't try to make the people around feel better as they try to comfort her. in a way, reading about Jennifer took me to a sad place, as i recalled the couple friends i've known who were assaulted sexually, and the struggles they lived with for so long after, and probably still live with to this day. Jennifer's character and her struggles seemed so true, in particular her detachment. and when she at last is able to make a faltering step, then another, and another, on the road to recovery, and when she's finally able to even experience sex again, to experience a connection to another person that is both emotional and physical... it was like seeing something slowily coming through in an endless gray sky, some light at last appearing, after waiting for so long. that's a trite image, i know, but that's how it felt to me. i teared up a little bit reading that scene, and i think that's the first time tears have ever sprung to my eyes when reading something so basic as a love scene.
Do You like book The Wandering Fire (2001)?
After careful consideration and some time between my feelings about the situation and finishing the book I need to address something that made me very angry. I'm sure I'll get a lot of flack for it, as anyone who addresses women's issues in a public forum often does, but I digress. The biggest flaw in my opinion can be summarized in one question, "What the hell happened to Jennifer?" Jennifer, as we all know, was raped by Rakoth Maugrim and gave birth to his unwanted child. It stands out. Its horrifying. But it is NOT the only god/human sexual experience in the book. So let's compare and contrast the other situations:1. Dave has sex with Ceinwen after the Battle of Celidon. He enjoys it. 2. Kevin has sex with Diana to save Fionavar from unending winter. He ends up dying because of it, but the experience itself is blissful and people continuously praise him for his willingness to be consumed by copulation.3. Jennifer is raped by Rakoth, who takes the form of important men in her life; her father, priest, former boyfriends. She then serves as a vessel for the ultimate catalyst of the trilogy, Darien, who is "random" and thus has power no one else has over the fate of the world.From her on out it is as if Jennifer's plot abandons her. From the moment Rakoth raped her she was powerless over anything else in her life except for having a baby. Reduced to her biological function, Jennifer loses all purpose and hereafter becomes some sort of melancholic carbon-copy of Guinivere. All I'm saying is that I understand Darien's purpose. But could Jennifer not have been given a purpose like many of the other male characters? Even Kim's power is something that works upon her, not something she has power over. It just seems to me that many of the women in this trilogy are only deceptively powerful, and have no actual control over anything that happens to them.
—Mary
This is just as much of a hot mess of overcomplicated mythology, far too many characters, and a wild mishmash of other people's legends, but at least there's less info dumping and more character development.I still think an editor needed to sit Kay down and strip out approximately half the ideas he's got crammed in here. There's just too much backstory and too many different magic systems and gods and legends for the length of the book. There isn't enough current story to support the backstory, if that makes any sense. But there are some heartbreakingly beautiful passages. The tragic fate of the knock-off elves was a nice twist on Tolkien. While Sharra is a thinly written princess, I'll admit to being charmed by her romance. And Darien is a compelling balance between murderous god and little boy.I still don't recommend starting the series, to be honest. But if you start, you might as well finish, and this is an improvement over the first book.
—Rebecca
By this point in reading the trilogy, you've probably decided whether you can bear with Guy Gavriel Kay's style or not -- whether you can be invested in his characters or not. If the answer is yes, then carry on: he won't disappoint you. If not, then... I don't think he will get your attention at all.Less seems to happen in this book until the end: it's a time of waiting, of things coming together. If you're invested in the characters, though, there's plenty to worry about: Kim's dilemmas, whether she has a right to do what she's doing; Paul's separation from humanity; and Kevin's initial helplessness, and then his journey to the Goddess... And there's Arthur, of course, and the Wild Hunt, and Darien...Yep, and if you were wondering, I really do mean Arthur. King Arthur. I love what Kay does with his story, with the image of his tapestry -- but I can't say more because I'd plagiarise my essay, again. My academic life needs to stop getting in the way of my fannish meta, ugh. Suffice it to say that Guy Gavriel Kay nods to the Arthurian tradition whilst creating something entirely his own.Not the strongest of the three books, but still beautiful.
—Nikki
