After years spent in the saps under the defenses of the apparently impregnable city of Ap’Iscatoy, Bardas Loredan, sometimes fencer-at-law and betrayed defender of the famed Triple City, is suddenly hero of the Empire. His reward is a boring administrative job in a backwater, watching armor tested to destruction in the Proof House. But the fall of Ap’Iscatoy has opened up unexpected possibilities for the expansion of the Empire into the land of the Plains people, and Bardas Loredan is the one man Temrai the Great, King of the Plains tribes, fears the most. The Proof House is the gripping, hugely entertaining conclusion of K.J. Parker’s Fencer Trilogy.
According to the biographical notes in some of Parker's books, Parker has previously worked in law, journalism, and numismatics, and now writes and makes things out of wood and metal. It is also claimed that Parker is married to a solicitor and now lives in southern England. According to an autobiographical note, Parker was raised in rural Vermont, a lifestyle which influenced Parker's work.
I give this a grudging 3 stars, only because Parker doesn't need help from me to have people not read his books. Let me explain.
Taken by itself, this isn't a terrible book. There's no working author today who writes techincal military details better or that I love spending time with when characters are just sitting around talking about literally nothing. The Empire prefects in this one really take the cake with what they find important in life--things like tea and art collections--meanwhile the war going on takes a distant second place. If it was just a single book with new characters with the same plot, themes, etc, I would rank this book above SHARPS, even, because it's not like I didn't enjoy reading it. If it was 400 pages instead of 600 pages, we'd be having a different conversation.
But. Taken as the final book of a trilogy, as the 600 page culmination of the previous 1000 pages, this book is inexcusable.
It's too long.
The characters aren't characters, just stick figures to be moved around in service of the themes. All of the rich character work done in the previous two books is ignored or absent.
Too much happens off screen and too fast. Only one throughplot is even kind of resolved and the others are set ablaze, leaving me wondering what was even the point??
This series is one of revenge and war, and the toll it takes on literally everything around it. It's about family and toxic relationships and finding one's purpose. Parker is an exceptional writer, but maaaaaaaaaaan did this book disappoint as a conclusion.
4.5*. Parker never fails to amaze me with his unique style and keen intelligence. Would have been a perfect 5 if the the ending was more gratifying. Still...
When I started reading this book, I thought I had skipped a book in the series, as it starts many years after the events in the second book. This book is quite different from the others in the series; a lot more metaphysical. I did like the metaphor of the proof house, but there was way too much repetition with that metaphor, as well as the saying 'It's customary to die first; but in your case, we've made an exception. This book was too long, and I became tired of reading about the same characters for three books in a row. The entire time I was reading this, it felt like a duty, done just to finish up the series, which is a shame, since I liked the first two books quite a bit. There was also a lot less witty banter / observations in this book.
Some parts I did like within these 600 pages:
p. 18: "...Why do you talk to yourself?" I asked. "Because it's the only way I'll get a sensible conversation around here," he replied. "A good answer, I always thought."
p. 61: She stripped away the vine leaves to reveal a golden-brown slab of cake, dripping liquid honey and scattering crumbs of nut. "There really isn't a polite way to eat this stuff," she said, "so the hell with it. Here goes." She opened her mouth as wide as it would go, stuffed about a quarter of the cake into it, and bit hard.
p. 61: "I prefer to listen," Bardas replied. "Very sensible," the woman said. "One mouth and two ears, like my mother used to tell us when we were children."
p. 67: "Don't let's get cocky," he said, standing up and felling the weight of his armour across his soulders. "The worst words a general can ever utter are, How the hell did that ever happen?" Kurrai smiled dutifully. "I don't know," he said. "Between over-cautious and cocky, how do people ever manage to win battles?" "They don't, usually," Temrai replied. "As often as not, it comes down to who loses first."
p. 174: ...she might not have a clue right now what a garboard strake was, but by gods she'd know all about the wretched things by the time Ven got home; whereupon she could tell him, as if explaining to a small child - you know, Ven, the garboard strakes. I thought everybody knew that.
p. 338: (Temrai talking about the symmetry that he's now building fortifications to defend aganst Bardas Loredan): "It's like when we were kids and took it in turns to be the good guys and the bad guys. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost count, so I'm not sure which I am at the moment."
p. 351: The easiest way to do anything is properly.
p. 440: ...you only had to look closely at them to see they'd never handled a weapon before in their lives. But a poleaxe or a bardische isn't like a harp or a jeweler's lathe; you don't have to be terribly good at it to make it work in some fashion.
p. 451: I try to be like a careful doctor: I make sure my mistakes are buried before anybody sees them.
p. 590: "So, what was it (war) really like?" "Boring, mostly. With occasional interludes of extreme terror."
So this is really a review of the entire trilogy, and it brings up an existential question: Is the journey more important than the destination?
The trilogy also brings up some philosophical questions -- is violence in the service of security justified, among others -- but they were part of the journey of the Loredan family and protagonist Bardas, the fencer of the trilogy's title.
We are introduced to Bardas in the law courts of Perimadeia, a huge trading city in a pre-industrial world with an odd form of magic that can neither be controlled, apparently, or directed. The Perimadeians have developed a unique system of justice -- if two parties cannot agree in a lawsuit, they each hire a swordsman, who duel to the death to determine which side wins the judgment. This is might as right in its most fundamental form, a theme K.J. Parker develops throughout the series.
In fact, the avalanche of violent death seldom stops through the three books, though since this series was written in the early 2000s, it's not bloody as more recent efforts in this genre. But Parker uses Bardas Loredan's skill at dealing death as a counterpoint to our sympathy for him, which drives us through three volumes despite the fact that he shows basically no compassion for others and is incapable of returning affection, even as he tries to do the "right" thing.
But the interweaving plots of the trilogy involve numerous characters, some appealing and some incomprehensibly evil. In the end, after three books, Parker seems to have written himself into a corner he couldn't get out, and "The Proof House" is the weakest of the trio, primarily because it ends in a very, very unsatisfactory -- not to mention almost completely unbelievable -- manner.
That said, I enjoyed reading the series (the journey), but about 50 pages from the end, I wondered to myself, "How is he going to wrap this up in a satisfying way?" The answer, sadly, is that he doesn't, which brings us back to that existential question of how much weight the destination (in this case, somewhere unsatisfactory) should carry in evaluating the journey?
I'm still ambivalent, because I did look forward to reading the books -- but I also can't get past the disappointment of the last few pages.
"È consuetudine morire prima; ma nel tuo caso faremo un’eccezione."
Con questo terzo volume, la saga chiude in calando. Nel senso che Parker scrive bene, come consuetudine, ha dialoghi frizzanti, i personaggi funzionano tutti bene, c'è humour inglese a piene mani... Però ci sono anche cose che non tornano, o che fanno scricchiolare una trama fin qui quasi perfetta. Ad esempio, l'Impero. Un'entità gigantesca, che fagocita città e nazioni avversarie in un'espansione senza fine. Benissimo, ma come mai non se n'è mai fatta menzione, nemmeno per sbaglio, nei primi due libri? Avevo già avuto l'impressione che per l'autore il worldbuilding non fosse così importante, ma qui si esagera. Alcuni personaggi terminano la loro corsa in modo inaspettato, quasi come non sapesse più come gestirli, o come dar loro una fine adeguata. E il finale: le ultime due o tre pagine mi hanno lasciato davvero con l'amaro in bocca, con un senso di amarezza. Peccato perchè fin qui è stata una saga fantasy decisamente buona; purtroppo, questo è il romanzo più debole della saga, anche se si legge bene e ha i suoi momenti. Ma i punti esposti poco sopra abbassano il mio giudizio.
Thanks to the efforts of Bardas Loredan - fencer turned bowyer turned sapper - the city of Ap' Escatoy has fallen, allowing the Empire to begin its expansion into the lands held by the plains tribes. Loredan is reassigned to an imperial proof house, testing armour to destruction, until his previous relationship with the leader of the tribes is discovered. Loredan is the only person that Termai, sacker of Perimadeia, fears and the Empire plans to make good use of that fact in its invasion.
The Proof House is the third and concluding volume of K.J. Parker's debut work, The Fencer Trilogy. As with its two predecessors, Colours in the Steel and The Belly of the Bow, it's a novel that wears the clothes of epic fantasy but seems resolutely unimpressed by them. Wars, battles, sword fights, clashes of armies and so forth are all featured, but presented with dripping cynicism and sarcasm by the author, who is far more interested in his characters. The Fencer Trilogy is less about the trappings of the subgenre and more about family relationships, particularly the extremely dysfunctional (to the point of murder) Loredan clan. The novel is driven, as to some extent the previous ones were, by Gorgas Loredan's insistence on repairing the damage he did to his family as a youth, utterly unaware that his crimes are past forgiveness or forgetting.
Elsewhere, Parker continues to base his narrative around the trappings of medieval-style warfare. The first book revolved around swords and the second around bows, with both standing as metaphors for the novels' themes. This continues in the third novel, which is about armour and how it is tested to be 'proof' against the pressures that will be brought to bear against it. This thematic element is a bit overstated in this third volume, with what was previously a subtle and clever analogy instead being rammed down the reader's throats with less nuance. This is a shame as other elements are handled in a far more enjoyable manner, such as the final conclusions about the Principal (including some interesting information about its temporal-manipulation effects) and the resolution of Temrai's storyline from the first novel.
The novel's biggest weakness is the fact that a major new political power - the Empire - appears literally out of nowhere and is described as the largest and most powerful nation in the world with an army numbering in the millions (individual provinces can field armies in the hundreds of thousands by themselves), with its nearest borders being only a few hundred miles from Perimadeia, Shastel and other familiar locations. Yet it somehow went completely unmentioned in the first two novels of the series, stretching credulity past breaking point. This is a shame as the Empire is a reasonably well-constructed fantasy nation (as these things go) and the increasingly bemused meta-observations by one of its provincial officers on the plot is quite amusing.
The Proof House (***½) is a clever novel that uses the trappings of epic fantasy to criticise the subgenre intelligently, whilst also featuring some dark humour, nuanced characterisation and an appropriately messy ending. Some shaky worldbuilding and over-egged thematic elements leave it as the weakest of the three novels in The Fencer Trilogy, but still a worthwhile conclusion to the story.
There's a technical nerdiness that I can see as appealing, and the chapters regarding a battle were engaging, but there's simply too much dreck and annoyance. The ending was extremely satisfying, however.
To some extent, I was wondering about the relationship of anti-hero to really fucking annoying character. It's interesting that not only is there not an unqualified good guy, but that there wasn't the cliche of loveable anti-hero either. None of the characters here were really likeable. The problem is, if you have a bunch of unlikeable characters, do you try to keep them from being annoying to the extent that the annoyance gets passed on to the reader? And how do they stay engaging? The answer to the second, I think, is that they must be in interesting circumstances doing interesting things. And I thought the story was successful with Bardas, Gorgas and Temrai in that regard. However, all the other characters were just so awful, it was a burden reading about them. And they weren't awful in a grey, ambiguous, anti-heroic way, but more in the way of someone who's really shrill and talks relentlessly about business on their cell phone when you just want to drink your coffee. And they made up half the story. When 50% of what I'm reading makes me want to gauge my eyes out, there's not much that can make up for that.
So Bardas and Gorgas get four stars, and everyone else gets two stars, and thus the rating.
TRAMA: manuale per la fabbricazione di armature (contiene tralci di storia)
PS: ho letto l'intera trilogia (mentre stavo male come mai prima nella vita) a piccoli pezzi tra lo scemare di una crisi e l'insorgere della successiva, sempre annebbiata da dolori forti e non so se ho davvero capito ciò che ho letto
Depressing book not made better by the fact that none of all the characters in the book are even remotely likable. Had a hard time getting through this. Too bad as the series started out really well, and this was a non-ending more or less.
`It’s customary to die first; but in your case we’ll make an exception.`
The opening line of The Proof House – the third in K.J. Parker’s Fencer Trilogy – is an indication of what is to come throughout the final book in the trilogy. The sheer number of characters present throughout the novel means there are numerous occasions for peril to emerge – and several times when the situation has no resolution.
As with the second book, the story arc continues where the last left off. Set a few years into the future compared to events of the second story, The Proof House explores what mischief the main characters have got themselves into in that time span. With wars and skirmishes still threatening the peace and stability, there is certainly enough trouble to go around for anyone wanting – or not – to be involved.
The main focus still remains with Bardas Loredan for the first part of the book but branches out. While the rest of his family have their own story arc, so do the other characters introduced in the first two books. Needless to say, there are times when there feels like too many characters. Bardas is left for a chunk in the middle of the book while the adventures of the others are explored, only to come back to him right at the end. While the characters all have depth to them and are engaging, the number of them means it weakens the end of the trilogy. While the reader follows Bardas, major events happen to the others that are summed up in one glance from Bardas’ perspective and no true answers are given.
The opening of the novel takes a new approach with a strong use of repetition. It is effective as a play on the senses considering it is taking place in darkness, but also runs dry very quickly. Thankfully, apart from the aforementioned line appearing on serval instances (and always italicised), the repetition dwindles away for the rest of the novel.
As with the previous books, Parker’s humour keeps the book engaging and gripping. Despite events that are taking place – wars, murders, plots, treason and death (and that’s just in a morning’s work) – there is no weight to the book, no being laden down with the intensity of the situation. That is due to Parker’s way of inserting a line here and there that has the reader laughing out loud, breaking any tension and making the book enjoyable and humorous rather than only about war.
The Fencer Trilogy is the second of Parker’s trilogies I have read. The level of description slows the pace down while the layers to the characters gives an in-depth feeling to the various places mentioned. Parker’s skill with words means I have no doubt I will try and find the other trilogy. If you are a fantasy reader who likes to be immersed in detail and can handle a lot of description without being bored, then The Fencer Trilogy is a definite recommendation.
Until the last 50 pages I was certain that I was going to give this book five stars. But endings are hard. Not just for trilogies: they're hard for individual works as well. This ending was a little too pat and more than a little unsatisfying.
The voices of individual characters didn't seem as individuated as in previous volumes, almost as if they were all speaking with the same voice. The author's usual wry humor was manifest at a much higher level, one that I might even typify as sardonically detached. Given the running metaphors on the brutality of life, and the narrative skepticism for all moral systems--even pure utilitarianism--this was not an inappropriate choice for tone.
And what a metaphor this book was. Extending on the themes of the previous books, being "sword" (life as battle, fight for what you get), and "bow" (crafting one's course in life and interplay of various tensions and the course on one's fate), this book's theme was "armor". There's a section, about 40% of the way into the book, where the main character is observing the making of armor. This section becomes a 12-page meditation on how the specific mechanisms of the creation of armor are entirely analogous to the psychological armor we craft and how buffetings and batterings shape us. The section is so skillfully wrought that there are no strained points or tenuous connection. From a detached, agnostic-to-morals viewpoint we get a naturalistic exposition and elucidation of reactions and behaviors of the psyche.
Besides the metaphors (some of the most cunningly crafted that I've encountered), the diction and language extended and served the narrative and the observations. Repeated phrases, instead of being merely tics, serve to unify, theme, contextualize, and ground the events--one can make sense of circumstances more richly thanks to the explicit parallels.
I liked this book a lot, but would not recommend it, or the whole series to any who are easily put off by the amorality (or at least, skepticism of morality) and a few quite gruesome scenes found inside. For those not worried about these, this is a richly--if unevenly--rewarding trilogy of books which rises far above the genre that it nominally inhabits.
This rating is probably more like 4.5 stars, but what Parker can do is so impressive that it's hard not to round up the rating. His novels can be lengthy and dense (at least, the novels in this trilogy are; I've only read his novellas before starting here) and go into near-excruciating detail about warfare, battles, and weaponry, but it's all so relevant to what he's telling us, and somehow it still manages to be compelling. According to the dedications and forewords of these books, Parker apprenticed at making swords, bows, and armor before writing these books, and seeing how much he tells us about each, I'm not surprised. That's not just research, it's dedication.
I'm also surprised at how well Parker manages to develop his characters. They're all somewhat similar to one another, but he manages to make a few distinctive traits for each one, and despite nearly all of them being morally ambiguous enough to hardly be considered The Good Guy, he makes you care about them. At least, when terrible things start to happen to them (no spoilers, but, hey, this is the third book in a trilogy, and it is a Parker book), you find yourself a little torn up about it.
Parker's style is also disarming, because his wry sense of humor puts you at ease and gives the entire story an air of exaggeration, like it's not really happening. The stakes of his stories are always high, though, and the reality is that people in war are going to die. I think that's part of what leads to those "Oh." moments his stories can produce; he leads you down this light corridor of humor before ambushing you in a dark corner with a halberd of ... well, in this story's case, an actual halberd.
For what it's worth, a proof house is a place where people test armor. That is, it's the place where they show the proof of the armor's durability. They do this by systematically destroying it to reveal its strength, and like he did in the first two books, Parker uses this tidbit as a metaphor for his story. I love how much he puts into his books.
I finished the final installment in K.J. Parker's Fencer Trilogy quite a while ago, but I refrained from writing a review because it's taken me a long time to digest the choices Parker made in finishing the trilogy. The book itself tells a great story comprising of the Loredan family. Temrai, the prodigal son, makes a return appearance as well.
Another thing that makes a second appearance is Parker's poetics and symbolism. The Belly of the Bow's thematic premise was succinct and used sparingly, while Colours in the Steel focused on the philosophical pros and cons of civilization. The Proof House is the most metaphorical of the trilogy. Parker's constant alluding to armor proofing and the similarities it shares to life, history, and humanity make themselves very familiar to the reader.
As for the actual plot of the book, Bardas Loredan's moved on from his previous attempts at life and winds up moving quickly through the various military ranks of the infamous Empire. The Empire (which doesn't have any further names)--and the "Sons of Heaven" who populate its important parts--very much is its own character, or at least you'd think so given how much its referred to by other characters. Anyway, long story short, the Empire is made of idiots just like everywhere else (regardless of their heavenly lineage), but just so happens to have a hell of a lot of idiots to its name.
A common theme of this book is being overshadowed/overpowered by someone or something else. As history dictates, high ambition beats low ambition, and massive armies tend to beat smaller ones. Everyone's just a dent that's destined to be hammered flat. Parker's plot hammers his characters into humility, and no one is safe.
I didn't really enjoy the ending to this book, but after all these months I have come to appreciate the fact that maybe I wasn't supposed to like it.
This series, as a whole, is very obviously the predecessor of Parker's "The Engineer's Trilogy", in terms of the author's skill at writing and storytelling. Still an intriguing read, though a bit slow to pick up through the first and second books. By the end of the trilogy I knew exactly where the story was going, having read "The Engineer's Trilogy" first and recognizing Parker's pattern. He is clearly a formulaic writer who is trying to achieve a certain goal in his fiction, and he did a much better job of getting his message across in the later series. I suspect I would have enjoyed this series much more if I'd read it before "The Engineer's Trilogy", and would recommend anyone who is interested in Parker's books to do the same. I think you'd be more able to appreciate this series for what it was, and then appreciate "The Engineer's Trilogy" even more for its improvements.
Bardas completes the circle with the relationship between him and Temrai being played out on a huge stage with neither side seeming willing but both trapped into fulfilling their roles.
The weird interactions with the rest of his family in the background add some humour and plot twists, all the characters from the original book are still there and bound to Bardas.
We finally get a better idea of the underlying forces and why Bardas became so pivotal.
The book is a bit more depressing than the others with the sense of inevitability hanging over everything making it less enjoyable.
The ending is good with another weird twist and Gorgas' madness showing through again.
A good book but a little disappointing when compared to the others.
The conclusion to KJP's Fencer trilogy provides the dreadful symmetry which was evident from the beginning. _The Proof House_ also reveals the influence of Greek tragedy on KJP, since the characters are bound to perform their lot, no matter the consequences. Most characters are also simple pieces of a much larger game beyond their understanding or knowledge. Impressive trilogy.
Also, an unusual aspect of the entire series is the blurring of technology and the human, both metaphorically but also quite explicit in the description of people putting on their armors.
And so wheel (principle) turns! Tidying up the Loredan family had to result in their demise. The "proof" analogy was good to posit; however, it was overly belabored. The entire series rates about a 2.5. It is interesting to write a series with no main character that the reader empathized with. All of the characterizations were presented as cardboard cutouts. Actions and consequences without reasoning. Two excellent points of the series: 1. The thing worse than losing is winning; and, 2. revenge never ends satisfactorily. The writing is dry and prosaic.
The saga of the Loredan family and Temrai the barbarian comes to a close in a strange, confusing manner involving an Empire that had never been encountered before and the clash of armies. Still, Bardas and Gorgas Loredan are interesting characters and you can't help but feel for Temrai. Usual high-standard Parker writing but the plot is not as well-thought as his later stuff. Rated M for violence. 3.5/5
No co o tom rict? Nechci spoilovat; vice mene pokracovani dilu 2 s dost deus-ex-machina vstupem noveho "hrace" (imperia) do sveta, ve kterem se serie odehrava. Oproti predchozimu dilu jeste vyraznejsi nabeh do absurdna. Za docteni to urcite stalo, a jdu na dalsi serii autora/ky, ale je to tak trochu... jako kdyz ctete First Law trilogii, ve tretim dilu uz obcas vite co cekat a i kdyz to vetsinou je jine, nez jste cekali, nekdy to bohuzel neni to, co byste chteli.
I really wanted to give this 5 stars, but I was underwhelmed by the ending. It felt rushed and, while the author met all her obligations, it still felt uninspired. The word I would use to describe my reaction to the ending is "Oh."
Still, it was enjoyable and I think I preferred it to the Engineer Trilogy, which I enjoyed quite a bit.
I liked this a lot. Good ending to the trilogy. Most of the characters from the first two are back, there's another theme that runs throughout the book (proofing armour), and temrai is back. A major theme is circularity, with events replaying themselves over and over with slight modifications due to the principle, and it allows a good sense of closure to build up.
3.75/5 (both for the book and the trilogy in general)
This could have been a great trilogy... if the author had stuck to the thoroughly enj9oyable first book. Things take a steep down hill path form there, and like i said in the review for the 2md book, there are some morbid elements to the book which were completely uncalled for. A shame really.
4.5 stars. Good end to an incredibly interesting and harsh world. Took me almost a year to finish. Parker is a great writer. I'm glad a started with the first series. I'm excited to start the next series. I wish these were on audiobook. I go into these knowing there will be tragedy and am generally not disappointed.
Великая трилогия, которая никогда не станет широко известной, потому что времени, чтобы ее внимательно и со смаком прочитать, требуется уйма. Но это, наверное, единственное фэнтези об ужасе и бесполезности бездумной привязанности к семье и о случайности в истории, написанная так круто. И это не говоря о крутых экскурсах в фехтование, механику, стратегию. Шикарные боевые сцены.
KJ Parker's unique. The kind of fantasy novel you read to learn about armor making, iron smelting, trebuchet manufacture in exhausting detail. But the core of each novel is a moment of exquisite personal horror, some act of personal betrayal that sets everything in motion and grinds everyone up. He has absolutely no problem killing characters. Recommended.