I feel betrayed.
14 years ago this month when I picked up Elantris, it felt like nothing I've read before and that alienness made me think 'oh gotta keep an eye on this writer'. Brandon said he went into writing because everything he read felt recycled, so the promise of the Sanderson brand is 'stuff like you've never seen before'.
The Original betrays that brand promise.
The narrative spends too long in reaction scenes, magnifying out of proportion the wrong elements (likely without intent), which leads to self-stereotyping.
What this book is about:
--lots and lots of melodrama
--the character sighing
--a deluge of details from the MC's proprioception
--putting oranges in your mouth in slow motion
--carving fruit
--carving more fruit
--carving fruit AND putting them in your mouth in slow motion. Your mouth puckering or whatever mouths do around carved fruit put into your mouth in slow motion.
--sensory details are only fun once in a story this short. From the second time on, they start feeling like filler. If beta readers say the MC isn't sympathetic, you don't add more sensory details to ground them, you start removing the sighs to make the MC more competent and less self-absorbed.
--idem for proprioceptive details.
--contrived plot where the original is sending messages like 'yeah i did it' but without saying why or even acknowledging she can't say why
--minute bodily details that contribute to melodrama. Minute internal motion delivered as if it's actual plot motion.
--lots and lots AND LOTS of internal monologue about how emotional the character is
--about how womanly emotional the character is
--about how womanly emotional and totally pure and good and incapable of violence the character is. Because that's what women are. Super nurturing. Women are made of nurturing stuff. If you cut them open, they ooze little pellets of nurturingness (like teddy bear stuffing). They don't even have personalities because they're clones of nurturing mother achetypes.
--who carve oranges.
--are passionate about carving oranges.
--their life is ABOUT carving oranges.
--and their husband.
--the book is a thriller without the thrilling part. It's an emotional thriller? As in, where the thills come from the emotional melodrama triggered not by something in the scene but by endless navel gazing. Is emotional thriller a thing? Well it is now.
--When the character takes a deep breath for the umpteenth time, that does not tension make. In fact, the character detensing all the time ruins tension. Especially if she detenses when nothing is happening for the reader.
--speaking of which. Timebombs stop working if the character works so hard to relax all the time. Especially when nothing's happening anyway. For timebombs to work, we gotta see the character struggling breathlessly to beat the deadline in clever, resourceful ways. On thriller pacing, not on navel gazing pacing.
--when the character is emotional without there being a credible external trigger present in the scene, that does not tension make for readers. It becomes whining.
--this book shouldn't be marketed as scifi/fantasy. It should be marketed as literary fiction centered on a sluggish internal character arc with a thin veneer of technology that is so unspectacular that it can't carry a novella. Instead what the book does is melodrama. Internal monologue. Lots and lots of emotion, drowning in emotion.
--this book might've made a good short story. 2k words at most. the part in the middle is just the character whining about issues. I couldn't identify plot progression clearly, everything felt like the same action, much like the blandness and sameness of the world. Which by the way is a fake way to introduce conflict because I'm looking out the window now and the world isn't nearly as bland as the character whines it is.
--issues meant to paint conspiracy theorists as legitimate and sympathetic as an elected government. Because the government is EEEVIIIL. It's evil for enforcing laws. It's evil for not being able to cater to every whim super special individualists have. This story just feeds real life conspiracy theorists and contributes to supporting their claims. Poor conspiracy theorists, look, they were right all along. These people have wrongly been maligned all along.
--the book is all about specifically-American sensibilities and issues (the wrong ones at that). Why am I not the most important person in the world? I am the bellybutton of the universe, heed me. Heed me now. The world owes me everything. I don't have to think, others can do the thinking for me and it's fine if I lack the ability to do more than regurgitate pre-chewed jingles so that then I can be surprised and OUTRAGED by trivial issues that I should've seen coming.
--libertarianism and gun-nuttism is sympathetic. Is the way to GO! Is the way for progress. That's how civilization progresses. Kill the scientists! Kill the scientists they are evil like the government. They are pulling the wool over our eyes as THEME. But the WALLS are actually WHITE. Oh no! this changes everything.
--egotistic individualism pushed to pathology is the way to go. Yay. Btw kill the scientists.
--the repetition of the word THEME ten thousand times
--a disappointing ending which isn't a climax but a fizzling out. Yeah it's a decent explanation but it's not clever and it's not satisfactory. It's a cop-out.
--poorly written action scenes that lack both the clear description necessary for making movies in your head and the visceral grit that leads to tension. When writing a competent character, action needs to be crisp and visual. The 'blurry confusion' method only makes the MC look incompetent, which comes on top of the whining, and ultimately paints the image of a person with an inflated opinion of her own capabilities, who's complaining entirely too much for being given these abilities because they're nowhere nearly as great as she seems to think.
--what the book isn't about is actual fiction. It's about issues. Important issues. Like the walls are WHITE! OMG. The walls shouldn't be white, this is such a (first-world) betrayal. By the government! Oh, the cosmic horror of existence! I thought all my life the walls are colored (although I should've known I'm actively coloring them as I please because this is the premise of the book) and they're white. I am so important. I am so important NOW, why isn't the world doing exactly what I want it to NOW. Why are the walls white. Oh cosmic horror. Oh Cthulhu fhtagn.
--when the character marvels at stuff that is trivial to me, that doesn't create wonder. It just makes them unsympathetic. How much can you marvel at white clothes and white walls? White walls and white clothes and even augmented reality are boring. Augmented reality isn't a magic system. It's a cute little footnote.
--Who the heck would even make everything white when that's the color hardest to maintain in the world? It doesn't even make sense.
--Brandon's brand promise is CREATING WONDER. Out of unusual stuff, not wonder out of trivial stuff that I'm supposed to twist my brain into perceiving as wonder by squinting at it in a certain light and tilting my head at a precise angle.
--people having sex in the woods outdoors are totally entitled to expect privacy. The world OWES them privacy because they're Americans and everyone knows life and the universe and everything OWES (some) Americans everything.
It worries me that both Skyward and The Original are unoriginal, using overdone, common by now scifi/fantasy worldbuilding. I'm not into scifi fantasy to hear more whining about cultural issues and mentalities that aren't universal but instead so culturally color coded they reek of insular small-mindedness. I'm into scifi fantasy to see new worlds and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before.
I am front and center of Brandon Sanderson's audience, and he's starting to fail me.
Two stars because without the melodrama and shortened to a length corresponding to plot size, this would've probably made a 3.5 stars short story.