Christopher Paolini has taken a lot of flak for being derivative. The comparisons of the Inheritance Cycle to popular classics like Star Wars are legion--and rightly so. But what his detractors miss is that the value of Paolini's work is not to be found in the nuances of his writing but, as the New York Times said in its original review of Eragon, "in the sweep of the story and the conviction of the storyteller." It is that conviction that drives these books, and with the second book of the trilogy-cum-tetralogy, Mr. Paolini brings his epic into the teeth of the high drama that the first volume only foreshadowed. In Eldest, the characters find that their toughest trials have only just begun, and the power and wisdom gained throughout the novel end in a clash of battle, betrayal, and brotherhood. 

The Star Wars comparisons, while apt, too often forget that Star Wars itself is merely a (very overt) modern re-telling of mythic themes that have been central to literature and the arts since Western civilization began. George Lucas hardly invented the thematic struggle of the outnumbered forces of good against the vastly superior forces of evil; nor did the symbolism inherent in the "dark father" archetype originate with him. Indeed, the story of the farmboy-become-white-knight is central to the majority of modern epic fantasy. The themes and ideas at play in Eldest are some of the most pervasive in Western culture, and the fact that it is this bedrock upon which Paolini has chosen to found his saga is a testament to the boldness of his story and the confidence of its author, not a necessarily a slight to his creativity. It takes a certain amount of nerve and a good amount of character to set about telling the oldest of stories in a new and personal way. While the story Paolini weaves in Eldest may seem familiar, the simple confidence with which he tells it raises it above the level of boring fantasy re-treads. Paolini manages to take a tried-and-true concept and still give it emotional impact, and in this sense he succeeds.

Eldest falls short, however, in its failure to introduce anything truly new. Reading it, ironically, feels a lot like watching Star Wars: it never fails to entertain, but you know the story too well to really be on the edge of your seat.

In case you hadn't heard.

I wonder when A Dance with Dragons is "coming"?  (Couldn't resist.)

I haven't played World of Warcraft actively for a while, and even when I was playing more regularly I was never more than a recreational player.  The newest expansion, however, is the biggest the game has ever had, bumping the level cap up to 80 and adding vast new landmasses and adventuring opportunities.

Yesterday, Wired.com posted its Top 4 Reasons You Need Warcraft's Lich King Expansion.

I might have to justify the $15 a month I'm still paying and actually log back in to see what's going on.  After buying Lich King, of course.

Pat from Pat's Fantasy Hotlist drew my attention to this thread over at the Westeros forums, featuring three hilarious pages of classic epic fantasy cover art, with titles lampooned by one Walter Paisley.

Here are a few of my favorites:

Twitter is something I've used myself for quite a while (check me out), but this weekend I started a separate Twitter account for The Accidental Bard and put up a (hopefully) snazzy little badge above the main blog.  My day job often makes it hard to post as much as I'd like here, so I'm hoping to use Twitter to keep the site update to date in between the larger entries.  This is something that other fantasy bloggers like Aidan Moher have done quite successfully.

You can follow the Bard on Twitter here: http://www.twitter.com/accidentalbard.

Last Saturday night I found myself nodding in my bed, dozing through ABC's slogging 11 o'clock nightly news and waiting for the midnight premiere of Sam Raimi's Legend of the Seeker, the television adaptation of Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth mega-series that we've been reporting on sporadically for the last few months. I began to question my determination to experience this dead-of-night TV event when, as my bedroom clock hit 12:07 a.m., I realized that Daylight Savings Time had ended earlier than I expected and that, at least according to ABC, it was really only 11:07. Nonetheless, I soldiered on, and, despite ABC's annoyingly frequent late night commercial segments, managed to get through the two-hour premiere before passing out.

My past commentary about this show has often been skeptical, usually tongue-in-cheek, and always underscored by a healthy distaste for Terry Goodkind. But despite being a one-man tough crowd, I maintain a certain nostalgia for the first couple of books of the Sword of Truth (before Ayn Rand reared her ugly head and the story was merely an R-rated recycling of standard fantasy tropes, comfortably predictable and suitable for a lazy Friday evening). More than that, I hoped that a quality fantasy series might rejuvenate the genre as a viable television market.

My hopes weren't dashed by the premiere, but Mr. Raimi and Co. have a lot of work left to do if they intend to push the envelope with this series.

On the positive side, the production value was high; Mr. Raimi has come a long way since Xena and Hercules.  The settings were believable, the special effects high-quality (for television), and the costuming was exquisite. 

The actors were enthusiastic but didn't have much to work with. Being the first episode, the writers had a lot of backstory to cover and a lot of worldbuilding to do, which often led to flavorless dialogue that was awkwardly expository.  They did manage to build tension and create something of a sense of mystique, but above all the series opener showed an abundance of potential, as yet unfulfilled.

We'll see if tonight's episode is sharper.

Joe Abercrombie's got balls. It's something about his attitude, the way he stares down cliche and then casually twists it to his own, brutal ends. It's something about the way he refuses to allow any of his characters a fairy-tale happy ending, or how he manages to build a world out of sarcasm, to turn cynicism into tone. I, along with everybody else, have been commenting on this compulsion to overturn the staid tropes of fantasy fiction since his First Law trilogy began. But it is only with Last Argument of Kings, Book Three of The First Law, that he brings his vicious story to a crashing finale. 

Mr. Abercrombie had a lot of ground left to cover, plotwise, at the end of Book Two; the main characters were essentially in position for the climax and conclusion of their respective adventures, but the final battles had yet to be played out. Before They Are Hanged represented a fruitless quest for a questionable goal, leaving the point-of-view characters somewhat purposeless at journey's end, literally back at square one. They had arrived home from a dreadful vacation, only to find that their problems were there waiting for them. 

In Hanged the author led the story into choppy seas; with Kings he delivers a brilliant maelstrom that none of his characters come out of in one piece. Loose ends are mercilessly chopped, conflicts resolved with bloody finality, and, often, grand hopes crushed in the jaws of brutal realism.
 
(A note to the wary: beyond here, there be spoilers.)