Robin Hobb's Farseer Trilogy: Ruthlessly Great Fantasy
Posted on 28 February 2008 by James Cormier at 10:40 AM | Comments (0)
Tags: Reviews, Robin Hobb, The Farseer Trilogy
I have to admit, I was skeptical about Robin Hobb. CJ kept insisting that it was some of the best fantasy she'd read in a long time, but every time I read the blurb on the back cover I hesitated. It was the character names that threw me off: Prince Chivalry, King Shrewd? It sounded like an ironic fairy story for children. That's what I get for judging a book by its cover.Assassin's Apprentice is book one of The Farseer, the first of three trilogies set in Hobb's Six Duchies. The Six Duchies is what it sounds like: six historically separate lands now united under one King. As it turns out, it is the custom of the Six Duchies to give names to nobility based on each lord or lady's prospective character traits: if a mother wishes her son to grow up to be wise, she names him Shrewd; if she hopes her daughter to be patient, she names her Patience. All in the hope that this will drive each person to live up to their name. An interesting idea, and the first of many examples of Robin Hobb's tendency to realign her reader's perceptions.
Indeed, one of Robin Hobb's greatest talents as a writer of fantasy is her capacity to challenge her reader's expectations consistently. She seems to play with your formulaic notions of what fantasy should be and like George Martin, she has no problem putting her main characters through hell.
Hobb's basic premise is simple but powerful. The royal Farseer family is descended from a line of kings with the blood of both the Six Duchies and the mysterious Outislands, a combination of traits that has resulted in a unique magic found strongly in members of this line. The Skill, as it is known, is a simple magic: a form of telepathy, the Skill can be used to communicate instantly with other Skill-users over vast distances and, by those with enough training and power, to bend lesser minds to their will. The Skill is an excellent example of Hobb's style: she takes simple ideas and makes them unique and visceral and very real. She makes the oft-mentioned tales of Skill-users of old and their faithful coteries of fellow wizards seem inspiring stories of chivalry and honor.
The protagonist of these three books is FitzChivalry Farseer, better known to his friends as simply Fitz. I liked Fitz immediately: he is the classic fantasy underdog, underestimated by everyone around him. Fitz is after all, a bastard, the illegitimate son of the former crown prince of the Six Duchies. His bastardy, in true medieval fashion, precludes him from inheriting his father's title. The Six Duchies is a pragmatically political land in which a royal bastard has one of two choices: find a way to be useful to one's monarch or be summarily snubbed out as a political liability. Fitz does find a way to be useful; as the books' titles suggest, King Shrewd makes him apprentice to the royal assassin, a shadowy figure named Chade who has managed to convince most of the world that he does not exist. Fitz's underdog beginnings are where the familiar fantasy formula ends, however. It soon becomes clear that this is no typical rags-to-riches story.
Fitz's own talent for the Skill as a Farseer is at first stunted both by the machinations of a nasty Skillmaster and by his own innate aptitude for the Wit, a very different sort of magic that allows those gifted with it to bond and communicate with animals. Hobb's portrayal of these magics is a fresh exploration of a classic them: are such abilities a gift or a curse? Fitz himself finds it hard to decide.
Every good fantasy book needs an enemy, and these are no exception. The author provides an interesting combination of bad guys. The vicious Red Ship Raiders are the official enemies of the Six Duchies, against whose barbarous tactics Fitz's newfound abilities as an assassin are tried. The mysterious "Forging" of innocent Six Duchies' folk by the Raiders provides the major outside threat of the books. But the Raiders are interestingly one-dimensional; Hobb spends very little time delving into their origins and motives. At first this choice seems an oversight on the author's part, but as the story progresses it becomes increasingly obvious that the real menace is to be found within the Six Duchies itself. The true antagonist of the books is indeed Prince Regal, a member of the royal family who has his own interests in mind.
Hobb's insistent focus on the internal politics and minds of the Six Duchies in the face of a constant threat from outsiders makes the books a uniquely introspective experience. The only point of view Hobb uses is Fitz's own. The books are told entirely in the first person and the only literary device Hobb makes use is a series of introductory passages at the beginning of each chapter apparently written by Fitz himself at some point in the future. The books, then are essentially Fitz's own personal record of the events and times he took part in. Despite the fact that Fitz's own future narrative makes it logically certain that he survives the events of the book, to the reader his survival and well-being at no time seem assured. It is a good indication of story-telling ability when an author makes clear at the outset that the protagonist survives and then nonetheless manages to convince you on several occasions that he is a goner.
My description of this world and its plot only scratches the surface, believe it or not. The trilogy is a thrilling, dangerous tale of political intrigue, magic, prophecy, and personal values. While Fitz is certainly a likable character, his world is not a typical black-and-white fantasy land; it is a grey landscape often seemingly devoid of hope. His own choices as a character reflect this. Hobb seems to be saying above all that no matter how honorable or truthful or good you think you are at heart, sometimes the circumstances of a pragmatic world demand ethical compromise.
The books of the Farseer Trilogy are Assassin's Apprentice, Royal Assassin, and Assassin's Quest. If it isn't obvious from the rest of this review, I recommend that you read these books. I will leave you with one caveat, however: The Farseer Trilogy is for the faint of heart. If you go in expecting formulaic epic fantasy where you can usually guess what happens next and the fate of the good guys is never in question, you may be disappointed. If you read them with an open mind, however, it will be an exciting ride.
Look back soon for a review of the other two Six Duchies trilogies, The Liveship Traders and The Tawny Man.
Hobb's basic premise is simple but powerful. The royal Farseer family is descended from a line of kings with the blood of both the Six Duchies and the mysterious Outislands, a combination of traits that has resulted in a unique magic found strongly in members of this line. The Skill, as it is known, is a simple magic: a form of telepathy, the Skill can be used to communicate instantly with other Skill-users over vast distances and, by those with enough training and power, to bend lesser minds to their will. The Skill is an excellent example of Hobb's style: she takes simple ideas and makes them unique and visceral and very real. She makes the oft-mentioned tales of Skill-users of old and their faithful coteries of fellow wizards seem inspiring stories of chivalry and honor.
The protagonist of these three books is FitzChivalry Farseer, better known to his friends as simply Fitz. I liked Fitz immediately: he is the classic fantasy underdog, underestimated by everyone around him. Fitz is after all, a bastard, the illegitimate son of the former crown prince of the Six Duchies. His bastardy, in true medieval fashion, precludes him from inheriting his father's title. The Six Duchies is a pragmatically political land in which a royal bastard has one of two choices: find a way to be useful to one's monarch or be summarily snubbed out as a political liability. Fitz does find a way to be useful; as the books' titles suggest, King Shrewd makes him apprentice to the royal assassin, a shadowy figure named Chade who has managed to convince most of the world that he does not exist. Fitz's underdog beginnings are where the familiar fantasy formula ends, however. It soon becomes clear that this is no typical rags-to-riches story.
Fitz's own talent for the Skill as a Farseer is at first stunted both by the machinations of a nasty Skillmaster and by his own innate aptitude for the Wit, a very different sort of magic that allows those gifted with it to bond and communicate with animals. Hobb's portrayal of these magics is a fresh exploration of a classic them: are such abilities a gift or a curse? Fitz himself finds it hard to decide.
Every good fantasy book needs an enemy, and these are no exception. The author provides an interesting combination of bad guys. The vicious Red Ship Raiders are the official enemies of the Six Duchies, against whose barbarous tactics Fitz's newfound abilities as an assassin are tried. The mysterious "Forging" of innocent Six Duchies' folk by the Raiders provides the major outside threat of the books. But the Raiders are interestingly one-dimensional; Hobb spends very little time delving into their origins and motives. At first this choice seems an oversight on the author's part, but as the story progresses it becomes increasingly obvious that the real menace is to be found within the Six Duchies itself. The true antagonist of the books is indeed Prince Regal, a member of the royal family who has his own interests in mind.
Hobb's insistent focus on the internal politics and minds of the Six Duchies in the face of a constant threat from outsiders makes the books a uniquely introspective experience. The only point of view Hobb uses is Fitz's own. The books are told entirely in the first person and the only literary device Hobb makes use is a series of introductory passages at the beginning of each chapter apparently written by Fitz himself at some point in the future. The books, then are essentially Fitz's own personal record of the events and times he took part in. Despite the fact that Fitz's own future narrative makes it logically certain that he survives the events of the book, to the reader his survival and well-being at no time seem assured. It is a good indication of story-telling ability when an author makes clear at the outset that the protagonist survives and then nonetheless manages to convince you on several occasions that he is a goner.
My description of this world and its plot only scratches the surface, believe it or not. The trilogy is a thrilling, dangerous tale of political intrigue, magic, prophecy, and personal values. While Fitz is certainly a likable character, his world is not a typical black-and-white fantasy land; it is a grey landscape often seemingly devoid of hope. His own choices as a character reflect this. Hobb seems to be saying above all that no matter how honorable or truthful or good you think you are at heart, sometimes the circumstances of a pragmatic world demand ethical compromise.
The books of the Farseer Trilogy are Assassin's Apprentice, Royal Assassin, and Assassin's Quest. If it isn't obvious from the rest of this review, I recommend that you read these books. I will leave you with one caveat, however: The Farseer Trilogy is for the faint of heart. If you go in expecting formulaic epic fantasy where you can usually guess what happens next and the fate of the good guys is never in question, you may be disappointed. If you read them with an open mind, however, it will be an exciting ride.
Look back soon for a review of the other two Six Duchies trilogies, The Liveship Traders and The Tawny Man.
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