Beware, you are entering a dark and scary universe. (Well, of course you are, it’s a Glen Cook book ;) ) We’ve got: an empire of slave raiders, mercenary captain-kings, space warfare, planetary surface warfare, betrayals and more betrayals, lovely back-stabbing families, torture and more torture, cold-blooded murder, just plain “I hate you, you bastard” murder, cycles of vendetta that take years and years to complete. Did I get it all down? Phew.
I always like that Cook’s writing is so deceptively plain and simple. But it’s masterful, really – just a few strokes of a pen, and there is your character, and there is nothing simple about her or him; there is your battle, unfolding, and you can feel it all happening.
It’s been a while since I read anything by Glen Cook, so it was nice to revisit his work. I still like the Black Company books best of all, but I ended up enjoying this one a lot. I had trouble getting into the story at first and decided that it was going to be a three star read, at most – I was annoyed by Pollyanna. “Is this character misogyny personified, author, what are you doing?” As the novel progressed, it turned out that Cook was messing with the readers (of course he was). Pollyanna was frighteningly damaged, complex, and badass when it mattered. Well done, author, well done. There were a couple of instances of very weird gender stuff, and the book as a whole is very male-centric. But I am usually able to cut older sci-fi some slack.
Imagine my happiness when a lightbulb lit up in my head: OMG, Glen Cook is retelling Norse mythology as a space opera!!! Cool! Awesome! I love this kind of literary game, I was jumping for joy. It’s all there: Odin and his ravens, Thor, Loki and his many treacheries, Fenrir the wolf, Balder’s death, etc etc etc. Is there Ragnarök, too? Of course.
The ending was a bit rushed, but I am very curious about the rest of the series. I am not in a hurry, though – the story of Shadowline is complete.
I’ll end with one of the best quotes:
“How we love to play at being paladins,” he thought. “Hired killers pretending to knights of the Round Table. Dragons slain. Maidens rescued. Ogres dismantled. No, no, that’s not really innocent blood taking the shine off the old armor. Just a spot of rust.”