It's always interesting to attempt to categorize books for the goodreads reviews, but in cases like this one it's also helpful for the review. On the surface, there are a few tags/shelves I could apply (time travel, historical fiction) that are, on further reflection, not really significant to the story. Yes, Conrad Schwarz travels back in time, but that was in the first book and is really more of a setting detail at this point (1). Yes, it is set in 12th century Poland, but that's a setting rather than anything significant to the plot. In a way, this book (and the entire series in general) is more of a disaster story than anything else. You know the disaster sub-genre, right? Some terrible calamity turns the protagonists' world upside-down, and they must work together to survive, and often rebuild some semblance of community (and sometimes even civilization) from the ashes. It's a survival sub-genre that descends directly from "Robinson Crusoe" that is exemplified in such disparate classics as "The Stand," "The Rift," and "Lucifer's Hammer." The Conrad Stargard's series falls into this category handily, but with a twist: the inciting disaster (the Mongol invasion) is coming at the end of the decade, and the survival effort is all done before the disaster!
It's a compelling premise, and a generally enjoyable casual read. I think men in general are pre-disposed to this sort of story, where the people survive on their wits and, more importantly, craftiness in being able to create and re-purpose technology for novel purposes. It does have some problems, though, and they are particularly apparent in this book, the second in the series.
First of all, the protagonist, Conrad, is a two-dimensional cipher. He's almost entirely cerebral, with little to no emotional variety and no character development. For those unfamiliar with the first book, he's an engineer in his 30s who was backpacking in the woods and suddenly found that he'd jumped back eight centuries. Since then, he's been working to improve the living conditions of the Poles (sanitation, metallurgy, plumbing, agriculture, et cetera) so that he can prepare them to fight off the Mongols. He's something of an engineering robot, which lends some unintended humor to the book at times, as when he is confronted by another character expressing some emotion, and his response is to go off and work for some more weeks on another design. So the only connection with the character is through his actions; you have no sense of him as a person.
The second problem, which didn't bother me when I read the first book as a teenager but which was glaringly obvious to me as an adult, is the character's blase attitude about sex. You have a 20th century man in an era when nobles acted on the droit de seigneur by sleeping with any peasant woman they chose. That should seem repugnant to any modern person, and to his credit, Conrad does express some distaste at the idea...but only because it leads to resentment on the part of the peasant men who love their spouses/sweethearts. Conrad is delighted with his liege lord, however, because he has hit on the "practical" solution of inviting young, attractive, unmarried peasant girls to serve as "ladies in waiting" at his court. That way, no jilted spouses seek revenge, the girls get a formal education and a rise in station they wouldn't otherwise have, and the lord and all his knights get a willing harem of insatiable sex partners to warm their beds every night.
Yes, you read that right. The book never goes into any detail of these dalliances, but just regularly mentions it that some other girl rushes off to entice another knight to a night of little rest and raucous sex. These girls really serve no other purpose in the story but as bed warmers; you never see them depressed or hurt or tired or even just not in the mood. But in a way, that's in keeping with the characterizations of all the characters - much like with Conrad, above, the characters generally don't have much depth to them. But even that's not the most galling part, the thing that provokes cognitive dissonance in the story. Sure, the girls are all 12-14 years old; back in those days, teenagers were considered adults, and the girls would be married with kids by 15. Sure, the ruler has set up this convenient system; it makes a sort of practical sense. Yes, the girls seem outrageously compliant; perhaps the only girls who were accepted as ladies in waiting were the ones with undying, unquenchable libidos. Okay. What is unforgivable is that Frankowski has Conrad - you know, the guy from the 20th century? - happily participate in nightly sex with children. Again, the sex is never described, but the idea that someone from a modern western country would be able to jump into bed with a junior high school kid without any reservations at all is...alarming at the very least. That Conrad doesn't hesitate almost requires that we suspect the sexual orientation of the author, and this becomes even more suspicious because the girls start to fight over Conrad's attentions. It's like the story isn't just a fantasy about a man changing history, it's like it's Frankowski's fantasy of a perfect life: unceasing recognition for consistently successful engineering, ever-increasing wealth and status, and scads of freshly pubescent girls engaging in endless sex with you.
All that said, thankfully it is a very small part of the book: though a constant nagging at the back of the mind, it doesn't intrude too much into the story, primarily because so little time is spent on any human interaction.
What's compelling about the book is the meat of the story, in which we see how Conrad plans the development of his area in order to prepare for the Mongol horde. It's basically a series of engineering exercises documented for our reading pleasure. He wants to make a sawmill, but the technology to make electricity, motors and high tensile steel is unknown in the 12th century, let alone the infrastructure to manufacture said items. So how does he go about it? In some cases he creates the infrastructure, training others to do their work in such a way that they can accomplish his goals. In other cases he devises novel workarounds for situations where he can't fabricate the desired parts/materials. It's interesting stuff, and never presented in too heavy or didactic a fashion. More than an engineering text, in some ways it resembles a whodunit: you keep reading to find out how all the pieces fit together to advance their readiness for the Mongol invasion. There's also an RPG-like advancement element: as he continues doing his work, he is given more status and more responsibility by his liege lord. First, in the first book, Conrad is knighted through a number of circumstances. Then he is given some cash to start some projects, which are so successful that he can expand his work into more projects. In this book, those projects are so successful that his liege grants him land
and a workforce of peasants on that land to work it. Most of this book involves his getting the land, exploring it, and beginning to design, develop and create a thriving settlement on that land. There is also a tension, introduced late in the book, between some crusaders/slavers, that adds a much-needed antagonists and conflict. The resolution of this conflict is a mostly-satisfying respite from the engineering tasks, though an aspect of it is literally Deus ex machina.
In all, The High-Tech Knight is a fluffy, fun read with some glaring problems preventing it from being really good. It can be read within a day, or two if you're particularly busy, which is a saving grace from the issues that would bother the reader more and more if the story were longer, and it stands well on its own, so that you don't need to read the previous or next book to appreciate what is happening.
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1 - It does become something of a nagging question in the series, though: how does the incredible, egregious meddling with history that Conrad commits play out in the future? It's not something that you'll see answered in this book.