Coming nearly thirty years after her richly imaginative and humanely majestic Chronicles of Tornor trilogy, Elizabeth A. Lynn’s Dragon duology, starting with Dragon’s Winter, is a wrenching shock. This is a dark tale of atrocious violence, including intense cruelty towards animals, the hideous abuse and torture of children, and graphic scenes of death and mutilation. It’s narrative structure is complex, clear and compelling, but it left me wondering where Lynn’s deeply felt and sophisticated humane themes had disappeared to during her three decade hiatus from writing.
Dragon's Winter opens with the birth of Karadur and Tenjiro Atani, twin sons of the Dragon prince. Only Karadur inherits his father's dragon changeling nature; as they are born, Karadur's talons rip his mother from the inside and scars his brother. Out of jealousy over his brother's changeling status, Tenjiro studies sorcery and, in their late teens, casts a spell preventing him from taking dragon form. In the process, he tricks the man that Karadur loves, the singer Azil, into betraying him, then kidnaps and tortures Azil.
Having gained power by studying dark sorcery, Tenjiro also becomes the unwitting vessel for Ankoku, an ancient and powerful wizard who sought immortality but only achieves an enduring existence as a force that negates and perverts the living.
Tenjiro’s jealousy of Karadur leads to a psychotic break and, under Ankoku's influence, transforms into a hideous worm. Tenjiro/Ankoku takes the new name Koriuji, the Cold Serpent, and sends his resurrected forces to harass and destroy Karadur's kingdom. Brutal and grotesque atrocities are committed, including the torture and abuse of a toddler, women, and men.
Clearly there are echoes of Wagnerian opera, Tolkien's epic fantasy, and Frank Herbert's Dune series, but Lynn's imagined world is stamped with her own unique imagination. Still, although the world-building is detailed and thoroughly immersive, the Dragon series lacks the multi-layered sophistication of her earlier work. The Tornor books unfold at the everyday level of the unique, individual lives of its characters while also evolving at the macro-level of cultural time, showing the way that culture shapes and is shaped by the ebb and flow of nations, religions and belief systems across centuries - even as it also shaped by individual choice. The Dragon series occurs over the span of two years or so. It loses something of the implied, quiet majesty of her earlier trilogy, making the duology’s brutality a central, defining feature.
Don't get too attached to any one character, as Lynn freely kills off characters in ways that remind me of Martin's Game of Thrones. Whereas the violence in epic fantasy is frequently abstracted and generalized, with just enough detail to be effective, here the violence is concrete, detailed, individualized, and terrifying. There are no heroes in this story, only noble, loving victims that fall to torture, tragedy and lethal force. It’s shockingly inhumane, with echoes of the devastation and horror of Tolkien’s Sillmarillion, specifically the tales of the First Age, but with a raw brutality that makes for difficult reading.
Where Tolkien’s dark narrative, its violence and betrayal, has roots in the author’s firsthand experience of World War I, making his epic fantasy function as a kind of magnifying lens that reveals, in equal measure, the rot and tenderness that is the central paradox of humanity, Lynn’s Dragon’s Winter has no such foundation. Compared to Tolkien’s masterpiece, her fantasy is rootless and difficult to justify. Well done it might be, and highly effective in its storytelling, but there is no humane vision, no empathy or fellow feeling, in it.
It’s a gibbering, malevolent imagining, a slashing, nihilistic guillotine of a story. Coming from an author who gave us the overwhelmingly humane Chronicles of Tornor trilogy, with its palpable, even irresistible, moral vision of hope and empathy, Dragon’s Winter lands like a refutation, a twisted Hegelian denial of what came before. Sadistic glee and grimy cowardice, it seems to say, is the truth of humanity.
It’s chilling to think, in light of events of the last twenty years, that the Dragon series might be closer to the truth of who we are than her earlier vision of humanity.
( A note on the quality of the e book is necessary. While the text is easily read (mostly), it was clearly scanned from a printed copy. The new publisher bungled the process when turning it into editable text through optical character recognition (OCR). It’s marred by poor OCR and even worse proofreading. For instance:
One line just reads “UJ ff.”
Another reads: “a rpi rt/lryme.Try me.”
There is missing punctuation and some sentences run together.
This is not just carelessness and unprofessional, but a complete abdication of any regard for an author’s work and shows Open Road Media for the crass corporation solely interested in taking our money and providing substandard work in return. Another company would be embarrassed or at least feel compelled to respond to customer complaints. They obviously see no downside is shafting their customers.)