So it's kind of been a long time since I was really into A Wheel of Time. Over the years I've lost patience with things that get longer and longer and bigger and bigger (insert joke here) solely for the sake of spending more time in the setting, which is why I disagree with almost everyone I know about The Hobbit being too long. (And that's the first of a TRILOGY? Oy vey. Jackson should just film The Silmarillion and have done with it.) Not that I didn't enjoy the movie, but after awhile I felt like I was watching one of those travel videos that every Asian airline I've ever flown loves to show. (I don't know whether this is characteristic of Asian airlines specifically, or if most airlines do this aside from the U.S.-based ones. BUT I DIGRESS.)
However, I also have two hours of commuting each day, and audiobooks are a boon (they keep me from listening to NPR, which always makes me want to blow up the planet and/or kill myself by the time I get to work. THANKS NPR). And they can't be things that I have to pay too much attention to, which means that really well styled or complex stories are right out (I had to stop listening to Shawna Yang Ryan's Water Ghosts for this reason—it's a really good book, with no extraneous words, and that's a problem when you can only half-focus on what you're listening to because you're driving).
So, A Memory of Light, which I got from the library, comes on 33 CDs, and is overdue because even with two hours of driving five days a week, it takes JUST THAT LONG to listen to. I'm not finished yet, but here are some things which are driving me crazy about it:
1. Holy passive voice, Batman. Actually this is only one of the things that's wrong with the narrative voice, but it's by far the most evident. Things are constantly being done to by other things in this story, and when you're listening to an audiobook, the frequency of it leaps out at you. It's especially egregious in the middle of battle scenes which should be all about action. Instead they seem almost leisurely, which is a big problem because they're also fucking interminable.
2. Badly defined points of view. With the exception of Mat, who even so seems like a caricature of himself, the character points of view have begun to blur together. So I'm glad that Sanderson tends to introduce each one with the viewpoint character's name. I'd have a hard time telling them apart otherwise.
More annoying, however, is that the point of view keeps shifting from tight third to camera eye within individual scenes. There's a moment in Perrin's adventures in Tel'aran'rhiod where this is especially noticeable: first we're inside his head, then we're seeing what happens as if watching a movie. This also happens a lot during the battle scenes, when a viewpoint character in the thick of it suddenly has a big picture of what's happening around him. I know Lan's supposed to be awesome, but even he isn't THAT awesome.
The other big issue here is characters thinking in ways that they wouldn't based on their backgrounds as presented. At one point Aviendha uses a metaphor concerning forests in relation to something. She's from a desert, where forests are in short supply. I know she's been living in the wetlands for the past two years, but the other thing about all these characters is how resistant they are to adapting their worldviews to what's around them. If she's constantly running down wetlander ways and feeling guilty for liking baths, why would she use a wetlander metaphor? A United Nations in Wheel of Time-land is doomed, which doesn't bode well for Rand's Dragon's Peace, I'm thinking.
3. Brandon Sanderson cannot write sex to save his life. He can't even cut to the fireplace effectively. I'm thinking particularly of the scene where Aviendha comes on to Rand. The entire scene is winceworthy, not least because, when faced with one of the three women he desires most in the world, who he's only had sex with once and that was books and books ago, he wants to sleep instead. So, okay, that's kind of unbelievable based on what we've told these characters feel for each other so far, but let's say it's the case—the Dragon Reborn has a lot on his mind, after all, not least his impending death, and there are times when people would rather sleep than fuck.
But the other thing here is that Aviendha presses her case, rather forcefully, indicates that she's discussed this with Elayne and Min and Rand basically has no choice in the matter. Um. Again, people arrange their relationships the way they arrange them, but. Maybe it's because I know quite a few people in polyamorous relationships, but while I'm not privy to the details of how they do things, I'm generally under the impression that it's more equitable and less, well, "You'll do this because the rest of us agreed" than this. There's a consent issue in this scene, is what I'm saying, and it makes me uncomfortable.
Plus the whole scene is just awkwardly written, and I have the distinct impression that this author is uncomfortable writing anything that is even within the ballpark of sex, especially sex where the woman is being assertive, and ESPECIALLY especially when it's a polyamorous relationship. I'm thinking he just has no idea how to write this, and it shows.
4. Holy crap the gender issues. People have been saying for years that the Wheel of Time is an examination of gender roles through reversing the standard male-dominated power relationship. I guess. I...really don't think it's as revolutionary as it's made out to be. Call me a feminist (I'll own it!) but the Wheel of Time as a series has always expressed an attitude toward women that I find deeply weird and a bit unsettling. There has been much commentary on how powerful women are in this story, but allow me to observe that most of the women in the story are channelers and thus able to defend themselves handily against many threats, both from other channelers and from people who are not. Faile's captivity among the Shaido (not to mention the nasty bit where her own husband spanks her—possibly I know too many kinksters but the obsession with using corporal punishment on grown adults in this series causes me FAR too much speculation on what impulses Robert Jordon might have been repressing), Siuan's attempts to survive once her ability to channel has been removed, and Min's relative lack of agency throughout, especially where the Seanchan are concerned. (Min is one of the few characters I actually like, so that bit really annoyed me.)
I'd also like to highlight this post which goes into more detail, specifically by a comparison between the fates of the male and female Forsaken.
Okay, it's not like any of this is especially unusual in fantasy, especially epic fantasy. But at least George R.R. Martin doesn't try to claim that his world isn't a particularly nasty place to live if you're female (someone, I forget who, pointed out that men are never threatened with rape in A Song of Ice and Fire, even in circumstances where you'd expect to see it. It's not something I particularly want to see, mind you, but it stands out in a setting where the same threat toward women is sufficiently commonplace for Cersei to engage in some gallows humor about it. Ahem).
5. Description != character development. There's some especially good discussion of this in the OF Blog's review of A Memory of Light (suffice to say, they're unimpressed), so here I'll just say that I understand the tendency to fall into this trap. I struggle with it a lot myself. It's a particular danger of SF and fantasy because we're often most interested in the settings, and the genre as a whole has never been especially known for strong characterization.
But in A Memory of Light it's reached ridiculous levels. This is related to point 2 above, but the tendency to describe moments of pivotal importance to individual characters as though they were landscape paintings robs those moments of emotional impact. You might as well write, "Rocks fall, everyone dies."
6. Two world leaders are incapable of having a civil conversation until some guy talks sense to them. Okay, I guess maybe this is an elaboration of point four, and I get that everyone involved is very young and on one side has inestimable reason for being hostile, BUT: it irritates the everloving fuck out of me that Egwene and Tuon are on the point of killing each other until Mat literally puts himself between them. Can I enumerate what I hate about this scene? It reduces both women from being at all able to live up to the requirements of their respective positions, AND makes Mat an asshole. There. (Oh, and? Egwene's had more than enough time to understand that Mat does actually know what he's doing on a battlefield.)
...I could go on—there are severe structural issues, the plot is just a lot of "and then THAT happened," really the only reason to read this thing is to find out whether your pet theory is true—but you get the point.
So why am I bothering?
Well, aside from what I mentioned at the top of this post, it's instructive. I like epics. I like epic fantasy. I spent this evening listening to a guy recite Beowulf in the original (well, as near to it as we can get, anyway) Anglo-Saxon. At some point I'll probably try writing it.
When I do, let whatever sins I commit not be these.
However, I also have two hours of commuting each day, and audiobooks are a boon (they keep me from listening to NPR, which always makes me want to blow up the planet and/or kill myself by the time I get to work. THANKS NPR). And they can't be things that I have to pay too much attention to, which means that really well styled or complex stories are right out (I had to stop listening to Shawna Yang Ryan's Water Ghosts for this reason—it's a really good book, with no extraneous words, and that's a problem when you can only half-focus on what you're listening to because you're driving).
So, A Memory of Light, which I got from the library, comes on 33 CDs, and is overdue because even with two hours of driving five days a week, it takes JUST THAT LONG to listen to. I'm not finished yet, but here are some things which are driving me crazy about it:
1. Holy passive voice, Batman. Actually this is only one of the things that's wrong with the narrative voice, but it's by far the most evident. Things are constantly being done to by other things in this story, and when you're listening to an audiobook, the frequency of it leaps out at you. It's especially egregious in the middle of battle scenes which should be all about action. Instead they seem almost leisurely, which is a big problem because they're also fucking interminable.
2. Badly defined points of view. With the exception of Mat, who even so seems like a caricature of himself, the character points of view have begun to blur together. So I'm glad that Sanderson tends to introduce each one with the viewpoint character's name. I'd have a hard time telling them apart otherwise.
More annoying, however, is that the point of view keeps shifting from tight third to camera eye within individual scenes. There's a moment in Perrin's adventures in Tel'aran'rhiod where this is especially noticeable: first we're inside his head, then we're seeing what happens as if watching a movie. This also happens a lot during the battle scenes, when a viewpoint character in the thick of it suddenly has a big picture of what's happening around him. I know Lan's supposed to be awesome, but even he isn't THAT awesome.
The other big issue here is characters thinking in ways that they wouldn't based on their backgrounds as presented. At one point Aviendha uses a metaphor concerning forests in relation to something. She's from a desert, where forests are in short supply. I know she's been living in the wetlands for the past two years, but the other thing about all these characters is how resistant they are to adapting their worldviews to what's around them. If she's constantly running down wetlander ways and feeling guilty for liking baths, why would she use a wetlander metaphor? A United Nations in Wheel of Time-land is doomed, which doesn't bode well for Rand's Dragon's Peace, I'm thinking.
3. Brandon Sanderson cannot write sex to save his life. He can't even cut to the fireplace effectively. I'm thinking particularly of the scene where Aviendha comes on to Rand. The entire scene is winceworthy, not least because, when faced with one of the three women he desires most in the world, who he's only had sex with once and that was books and books ago, he wants to sleep instead. So, okay, that's kind of unbelievable based on what we've told these characters feel for each other so far, but let's say it's the case—the Dragon Reborn has a lot on his mind, after all, not least his impending death, and there are times when people would rather sleep than fuck.
But the other thing here is that Aviendha presses her case, rather forcefully, indicates that she's discussed this with Elayne and Min and Rand basically has no choice in the matter. Um. Again, people arrange their relationships the way they arrange them, but. Maybe it's because I know quite a few people in polyamorous relationships, but while I'm not privy to the details of how they do things, I'm generally under the impression that it's more equitable and less, well, "You'll do this because the rest of us agreed" than this. There's a consent issue in this scene, is what I'm saying, and it makes me uncomfortable.
Plus the whole scene is just awkwardly written, and I have the distinct impression that this author is uncomfortable writing anything that is even within the ballpark of sex, especially sex where the woman is being assertive, and ESPECIALLY especially when it's a polyamorous relationship. I'm thinking he just has no idea how to write this, and it shows.
4. Holy crap the gender issues. People have been saying for years that the Wheel of Time is an examination of gender roles through reversing the standard male-dominated power relationship. I guess. I...really don't think it's as revolutionary as it's made out to be. Call me a feminist (I'll own it!) but the Wheel of Time as a series has always expressed an attitude toward women that I find deeply weird and a bit unsettling. There has been much commentary on how powerful women are in this story, but allow me to observe that most of the women in the story are channelers and thus able to defend themselves handily against many threats, both from other channelers and from people who are not. Faile's captivity among the Shaido (not to mention the nasty bit where her own husband spanks her—possibly I know too many kinksters but the obsession with using corporal punishment on grown adults in this series causes me FAR too much speculation on what impulses Robert Jordon might have been repressing), Siuan's attempts to survive once her ability to channel has been removed, and Min's relative lack of agency throughout, especially where the Seanchan are concerned. (Min is one of the few characters I actually like, so that bit really annoyed me.)
I'd also like to highlight this post which goes into more detail, specifically by a comparison between the fates of the male and female Forsaken.
Okay, it's not like any of this is especially unusual in fantasy, especially epic fantasy. But at least George R.R. Martin doesn't try to claim that his world isn't a particularly nasty place to live if you're female (someone, I forget who, pointed out that men are never threatened with rape in A Song of Ice and Fire, even in circumstances where you'd expect to see it. It's not something I particularly want to see, mind you, but it stands out in a setting where the same threat toward women is sufficiently commonplace for Cersei to engage in some gallows humor about it. Ahem).
5. Description != character development. There's some especially good discussion of this in the OF Blog's review of A Memory of Light (suffice to say, they're unimpressed), so here I'll just say that I understand the tendency to fall into this trap. I struggle with it a lot myself. It's a particular danger of SF and fantasy because we're often most interested in the settings, and the genre as a whole has never been especially known for strong characterization.
But in A Memory of Light it's reached ridiculous levels. This is related to point 2 above, but the tendency to describe moments of pivotal importance to individual characters as though they were landscape paintings robs those moments of emotional impact. You might as well write, "Rocks fall, everyone dies."
6. Two world leaders are incapable of having a civil conversation until some guy talks sense to them. Okay, I guess maybe this is an elaboration of point four, and I get that everyone involved is very young and on one side has inestimable reason for being hostile, BUT: it irritates the everloving fuck out of me that Egwene and Tuon are on the point of killing each other until Mat literally puts himself between them. Can I enumerate what I hate about this scene? It reduces both women from being at all able to live up to the requirements of their respective positions, AND makes Mat an asshole. There. (Oh, and? Egwene's had more than enough time to understand that Mat does actually know what he's doing on a battlefield.)
...I could go on—there are severe structural issues, the plot is just a lot of "and then THAT happened," really the only reason to read this thing is to find out whether your pet theory is true—but you get the point.
So why am I bothering?
Well, aside from what I mentioned at the top of this post, it's instructive. I like epics. I like epic fantasy. I spent this evening listening to a guy recite Beowulf in the original (well, as near to it as we can get, anyway) Anglo-Saxon. At some point I'll probably try writing it.
When I do, let whatever sins I commit not be these.