Hadn't read this since I was maybe 15. Was fun to revisit. I'm sometimes nervous re-reading beloved childhood reads, as if the magic might dissipate, and, with horror and disappointment, I realize the book isn't actually that good. That does happen, and I admit that The Verdant Passage is not nearly as well-written as teenage me thought. It's quite clunky, sometimes even just bad. It could use some proofreading as well; plenty of typos that a professional outlet of this size should never allow. But this remains a functionally efficient piece of fantasy literature.
Typos and formatting errors aside, the clumsiness and rather obvious and over-explained world and characters serves a valuable function: the book is meant as a creative teaching tool to aspiring D&D DMs & players. Denning and many of the other D&D authors are also D&D gamers and designers, developing campaigns and tutorials for players. So the novels are meant to flesh out and solidify the D&D worlds, and teach readers how to be better gamers. Sure, this means that, as literature, these books aren't amazing, serving a more supplemental function than lit people might want. But they beat reading dry technical manuals and tutorials. It's a different way of showing rather than telling, splitting the difference between creative writing and tech manual. So the character descriptions are overdone. The mechanics of the world, character relationships, and such are all overwrought. But they're making sure that readers of all ranges can see exactly how worlds are built, what aspects of character, scenario, politics, magic, etc. to consider when developing your own worlds, characters, and campaigns.
Furthermore, I would apply this exact same criticism to authors like Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson, and George R.R. Martin--they overshare how their worlds work through lengthy exposition that bogs down narrative propulsion and demystifies the world. It becomes world building for world building's sake, where the author is amazed at their own attention to world-building detail, which they desperately want us to notice. It's essentially boring, gutting the worlds of mystery and discovery. The imaginative, creative, mystery goes out of the thing and it often feels like an extended technical manual more suited to scientists, business majors and politicians than creative artists. Instead of revealing a world through narrative and character action (showing) they offer reams of pages of exposition (telling). They might be better writers than Denning and other D&D authors, and their scenarios more complex (though also often overly convoluted too--you gotta make the thing a ten thousand-page series after all) but the payoff is also often not much better. And they don't have the excuse of creating tutorials for readers to become skilled Dungeon Masters and players. Their oversharing is just bad writing, where, despite their many skills and talents, they never figured out how to merge world and character development with narrative action (something Mad Max: Fury Road does masterfully, and Stephen King's The Gunslinger does quite well). And despite the excessive descriptions, The Verdant Passage is refreshingly stripped-down and direct. The entire Prism Pentad clocks in at fewer pages than two Robert Jordan books. So some of the criticisms directed at these D&D books should be equally applied to some of the heavy-hitters in fantasy literature.
Speaking of story, this one is still a fun yarn. It's pretty classic D&D pulp fantasy, but with an added edge that I always liked about the Dark Sun world. It's harsher, more post-apocalyptic, and savagely cruel than Forgotten Realms or Dragonlance. The class structures, while clearly indebted to ancient Greek & Roman civilizations, also feel relevant to contemporary class warfare and authoritarian politics of our modern age. The differences are in the particulars, but the broad parallels still resonate. And I appreciate how magic is connected to the natural world in a way that feels uncomfortably relevant in our current moment of environmental degradation and climate crisis. We see lots of implications and room for further learning, but this single volume is not interested in creating some sprawling global epic. It's instead rather focused: people are oppressed, the leader is bad news and planning something even worse, so a plucky band of misfit companions tries disposing of said leader. End of story. No grand cosmic stakes. No Saving The Whole World. Just straight-forward adventure in one city among many. Not bad. I like it. Certainly there will be more to this story--it's part of a series and a world, after all--but it's not trying to do too much. And the structure of future entries in the series maintains a pretty good focus that is a breath of fresh air when compared to other series with casts of hundreds, and thirty different narrative strands all interwoven and bouncing around. All that convolution is exhausting, and the payoff far less than we really think. Such works are the all-you-can-eat buffet of fantasy lit and I'm rarely impressed by it.
The Verdant Passage, however, is solid fun.