The gods have fled! In the wake of this greatest of cataclysms, the world of Oerstra has succumbed to a long foundering such as no age has ever seen before. Now, scattered across the western lands—divided, swollen in number, bereft of direction—the remnant peoples have all but forgotten the grandeur of ancient times when their forefathers, laboring under their divine masters, were yet strong, complete, and happy in their task. In their stead, a blind, loud, voracious sprawl eats away at the verdant richness of the realms of Oerstra—and nobody knows why.
Centuries into this era is born Talathastro Maslor, a middle-class boy of Naug Faloth whose nature is at odds with his surroundings. Driven by a passion for adventure and higher life, he longs to go out and up. But is there anywhere for one such as he to go? Is adventure any longer even possible? Joined by his friend, Patyr, a ragtag orphan, Talathastro defies all propriety and steps forth to find out, eventually entangling Patyr and himself in an outlandish conflict between two demi-gods of the primordial past: the dark-robed Rangillion and the scarlet-robed Helior, who for reasons peculiar to each linger still upon the earth—persons of power who hold opposing plans for the descendants of forsaken humanity.
In many unforeseeable ways, Talathastro's involvement with these ancient foes ends up setting history upon a new course, one that will recall the might of the ancient world and ratify his love for a renowned theater-woman—a course for the ages that will be proclaimed The Glorious Path.
Seth Cooper, a lifelong devotee of fantasy and mythology, is a graduate of Mount Saint Mary’s University, having earned a philosophy degree in 2001. He lives by himself in the rural Northern Neck of Virginia where he continues to realize the far-reaching series that begins with The Glorious Path, his debut novel.
What a hidden gem! Amid a wasteland of tropes, poor writing, and empty plot progression comes a truly remarkable novel that I feel reads more like classic or even ancient literature than a fantasy novel. Of the fantasy genre it is most similar to Tolkien, but the writing hearkens to an older style, and exploring a very earth-like world through this lens is such a joy. With that said, not all in this book is a look backward. I won't spoil anything but I think you will be pleasantly surprised to see some worn out fantasy stereotypes re-imagined or inverted. And never in a snarky way! On its surface we see a story of a couple boys who set off for a life of adventure - something they doubt could even exist in their humdrum lives. But as events begin to unfold and the richly detailed lands and peoples work their way into the character's journey, you will learn that, within these covers, is also a jarring but important world of ideas for the reader - ideas about our own world, our fears, ambitions, motivations, assumptions, and generally the human condition. The quest of these characters and the story around it becomes a vessel for our own quest to understand the most basic questions - especially if you find yourself yearning for a purpose beyond the daily rat race. I highly recommend "The Glorious Path" to anyone who appreciates high fantasy, mythology, or even classic lit. Readers of philosophy will get a lot of treats here, too.
The prose is overblown and the philosophy flabby. It makes Bulwer-Lytton of "It was a dark and stormy night . . ." notoriety read like Ernest Hemingway. The publisher's positive comparison to Tolkien is an insult.
In 2016, the author said in an interview promoting this book that "fascism is misunderstood" and called for a return to fascism. Tolkien hated fascists.
In fact, in a letter dated 9 June 1941, Tolkien specifically addressed the kind of Nordic nonsense the Glorious Path co-opts, writing, "I have spent most of my life, since I was your age, studying Germanic matters (in the general sense that includes England and Scandinavia). There is a great deal more force (and truth) than ignorant people imagine in the ‘Germanic’ ideal. I was much attracted by it as an undergraduate (when Hitler was, I suppose, dabbling in paint, and had not heard of it), in reaction against the ‘Classics’. You have to understand the good in things, to detect the real evil. But no one ever calls on me to ‘broadcast’, or do a postscript! Yet I suppose I know better than most what is the truth about this ‘Nordic’ nonsense. Anyway, I have in this War a burning private grudge—which would probably make me a better soldier at 49 than I was at 22: against that ruddy little ignoramus Adolf Hitler (for the odd thing about demonic inspiration and impetus is that it in no way enhances the purely intellectual stature: it chiefly affects the mere will). Ruining, perverting, misapplying, and making for ever accursed, that noble northern spirit, a supreme contribution to Europe, which I have ever loved, and tried to present in its true light."
Bulwer-Lytton is a better comparison, because he ended up (unintentionally) influencing the Nazis through his historically bad books. This book is the next logical manifestation of that lineage, which means that its self-congratulatory tone comes not from the achievement of high art, but the mistake of bad philosophy.
Also, The Glorious Path is a literal doorstop of bad prose.
The publisher has a history of confronting anyone who criticizes this book, so let me assure you. I bought this book without prejudice in June 2016. I had no idea at the time that Cooper and Yount would become infamous for aligning themselves with the fringe elements of the alt-right, but I was not surprised when that occurred. It is all here in the book, which claims that a culture infiltrated by outside elements is inferior and must be rescued by a hero.
There may be some who embrace Seth Cooper. Indeed, there are always some who champion xenophobia, nationalism, and mono-culturalism. But even among these misguided few, bad writing is soon forgotten. If this were well-written, even as controversial as it is, I would acknowledge that in spite of its disagreeable point of view. Because it is bad prose, as well as bad philosophy, I give it a one. I wish I could give it a zero.
The author definitely attempted to mimic the prose and stylings of Lord of The Rings, but unfortunately fell short in a lot of ways. I found the use of excessively long paragraphs and repeated use of long run-on sentences in an effort to sound profound detracted from the story and made it more difficult to read.
I wish I could say something positive about this book, but it ultimately fell short of what it was attempting to achieve.