Shadowmancer Adult Edition

Shadowmancer #1

by G.P. Taylor

Shadowmancer takes you into a world of superstition, magic and witchcraft where nothing can be taken for granted, and the ultimate sacrifice might even be life itself. Obadiah Demurral is a sorcerer who is seeking to control the highest power in the universe. He will stop at nothing. The only people in his way are Raphah, Kate, Thomas - and the mysterious Jacob Crane. Packed full of history, folklore and smuggling, this tale of their epic battle is full of suspense and danger. It is guaranteed to grab the attention and stretch imaginations to the limit.

Genres: Fantasy, Fiction, Young Adult, Christian Fiction, Childrens, Magic, Christian

Paperback

First published October 3, 2002

About the author

(born 1958 in Scarborough, North Yorkshire), pen-name G.P. Taylor, is the author of the best-selling novels Shadowmancer, Wormwood and Tersias. Before taking up writing full-time, he was an Anglican vicar in the village of Cloughton, North Yorkshire.

His works reflect his faith, carrying Christian messages like The Chronicles of Narnia of C.S. Lewis. He began to write his works to counter the increasing number of works, such as Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, that he believed were encouraging children to investigate the occult. His works have also garnered some controversy however, because whilst Taylor has claimed to be "an authority on Wicca and paganism", his books have been considered offensive by some neopagans for describing them as being tricked by the Devil.

Reviews

[Kimberly · Rating 1 out of 5]

For the longest time, I avoided committing to writing my complete frustration with and bitter disappointment over this book. After all, the author seems like a very nice man (despite his personal views on religion, he has defended Philip Pullman, and had to sell his motorcycle in order to get this book published), and there is a definite audience for this sort of book, made up of people who aren't likely to pay attention to anything I say. At the same time, until very recently I considered this the worst book I had actually finished (that place has now been taken by a romance written by, I kid you not, The Fae Gatekeeper of Dreams), and now its sequels, particularly the seductively named Wormwood, are out there trying to use the same tricks to make me buy them as this one did: namely an atmospheric setting, Yorkshire folklore, and shady characters such as smugglers and the like. Yes, the promise of adventure and magic are held out by this book . . . then snatched away, as the magical creatures, by and large, turn out to be the devil's handiwork.
This book, for all its claims to be non-denominational and a great adventure story, is basically a sermon in disguise. The villain, Obadiah Demurral, is a vicar who decides he wants to kill and then become God. He is about as generic as evil guys come, which is one of those things that always sets me off, although for an agent of the devil that is par for the course. What I mean is, I haven't noticed a lot of extremely religious people prying into the motivations of those they cast as foes, and maybe I shouldn't be surprised that Taylor doesn't do so either. Well, all right---but the character is a vicar, and presumably one of the good guys at one time. Shouldn't Taylor, a vicar himself, give him a good reason for switching sides? Heck, even Lucifer gets one, in Milton's Paradise Lost, a work that seems to have inspired this novel.
If you have read Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, you know what good religious allegory should be like; namely, that it should be enjoyable by those oblivious to its religious intent. Lewis wrote of mythological creatures just as heroic and "good" as his human characters, and his Christ figure Aslan is primarily identified by the sacrifices he makes. Shadowmancer, less subtly, has a Christ figure who appears as both a king and a shepherd, spouting recognizable New Testament verses.
In addition to the supernatural elements that initially drew me to this books, there were characters I definitely wanted to like: Kate, a plucky tomboy, and Raphah, a mysterious boy from Cush (which, as an ancient historian, pleased me greatly) with hidden knowledge and healing powers (notice I didn't say "magical," as it is clear we are to read these as "miraculous" instead). However, their character development is subordinate to the message of the book, that all are worthy of salvation, regardless of gender or race.
In closing, let me say that another thing that made me pick up this book was the fact that at one time it had outsold one of the Harry Potter books (not sure which, but whatever one was out in 2003 or so), and I was sure it had to be good. Well, I know now why it outsold Harry Potter; I believe it that everyone who didn't want their children reading Rowling must have bought this one instead.

[Sean · Rating 1 out of 5]

Awful on a monumental scale.

[Sarah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Let me start off by saying: If you are not a Christian, or not interested in reading a book heavily themed in that area, you should probably stay away from Shadowmancer. Most of the negative reviews I've seen based on this book complain that G.P. Taylor bashes one over the head with his views in God and the supernatural...and that's kind of the point. This book is in no way a subtle allegory a la The Chronicles of Narnia. It makes it evident that Riathmus is supposed to be God, that he is the source of all goodness, and that without him you cannot truly be saved. If reading such material makes you uncomfortable or is a turnoff, you picked up the wrong book. I don't know a lot about the author, or what his intentions were when writing this novel, but I can only assume he crafted it for a Christian audience like myself, and that's who is going to enjoy it. The book itself is well written and fast paced, with plenty of action and nary a dull moment. However, what sets it slightly lower on the scale is the fact that the world is nowhere near as developed as it should've been. It seems like a fascinating place populated by all sorts of creatures and superstitions, but Taylor really only scratches the surface of its potential. I found the characters to be the same. They were all likeable, but again, we don't learn close to anywhere near enough about them. Overall, I found it to be a great Christian adventure novel for those not turned off by Taylor's obvious themes and allegories. It's not quite in the same realm as Narnia, but it's still a good time.

[Lacey Louwagie · Rating 1 out of 5]

I read a review of this book in School Library Journal and the review made it sound like this book was right up my ally. The premise is that a priest is striving to become even more powerful than God, and it's up to three kids to stop him. The review warned that the book had religious themes, but that just jazzed me up even more. I was picturing something along the lines of His Dark Materials or A Wrinkle in Time -- a fantasy story that really makes you think about God.

But it didn't take long to realize that good ol' G.P. didn't really want his readers to think at all. In fact, I don't think he even wanted us to pay attention to the story. This is one of the most boring books I've read in a LONG time. I'm sure I missed about 1/3 of it because I just couldn't focus. Taylor kills all the suspense in the story by letting us know what every character is doing at any given moment. His head-hopping is atrocious, and the stilted dialog betrays the fact that this was a vanity press book before the big presses came along and picked it up. Furthermore, this book is so clearly Evangelical (Tarot cards and intuition are from the Devil, you'll only be saved if you belong to Jesus, etc.) that it feels dishonest to publish it and market it as though it's secular.

[Anne Hamilton · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some thoughts on Christian fantasy after a conference a few years ago. These musings include occasional references to Shadowmancer.

It’s time I nailed my colours to the mast. I’ve been a bit disturbed recently by the musings of a panel about Christian fiction at a conference I attended in Sydney, and also by an article in my church magazine about fantasy writer G.P. Taylor, much-praised as the ‘successor to C.S. Lewis’. Or so the publicity goes. On the strength of the article, I at last decided to go out and buy Shadowmancer. It had attracted me several times on the bookstore shelves in the past, and then immediately repelled me on the first page with its mini-biography of the author: G.P. Taylor has spent the whole of his life searching for the hidden secrets of the universe. He lectures on the paranormal and folklore and lives in a secluded graveyard.

Not the sort of description that immediately spells A-n-g-l-i-c-a-n-m-i-n-i-s-t-e-r, is it? You’ve got to think about old English churches and their surrounds for a moment and what it means to have a ministry to those involved in the occult. Anyway, having bought Shadowmancer, I borrowed its sequel The Shadowmancer Returns: The Curse of Salamander Street from the library. I took the latter as reading material with me to The Faithful Writer Conference in Sydney where, amongst a thoughtful and incisive keynote address and panels on communication in the age of the internet, another panel of writers attempted to tackle the question ‘What is Christian fiction?’

Unfortunately, only one of the panellists wrote fiction, although the others dabbled occasionally. You have to be a passionate and committed writer of fiction to have any hope of understanding that it is, in its way, as powerful a force for evangelism as apologetics – sometimes, even more so – and unfortunately, the panel didn’t have that kind of burning heart for story-telling. One member mentioned C.S. Lewis and another Tim Winton – and in the end, the consensus seemed to be that Christian fiction was what happened when a writer was embued with the mind of Christ. Unfortunately, in their view, that didn’t often happen at the same time as good writing did. Thus, their answer was – Christian fiction is fiction written by Christians.

I’m not sure that G.P. Taylor would agree with that, but I have a sense that perhaps he does.

Shadowmancer is a pacey adventure which owes a lot in its melodramatic style and Victorian setting to Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy. In fact, at least part of it is clearly a response to Pullman’s The Amber Spyglass , the only children’s book to have won the Whitbread Prize.

His Dark Materials is a profoundly anti-Christian epic in which God appears as an impotent, mad drooling sadist. Perhaps it’s unfair to label it anti-Christian, as that is only incidental. It is specifically and profoundly anti-C.S.Lewis.

Pullman wrote His Dark Materials after reading The Chronicles of Narnia and becoming immeasurably incensed by Lewis’ celebration of death and his abuse of the fantasy genre to promote Christian doctrine. (I have to say here that the first part of this comment alone is enough to put me off-side: The Last Battle – the book to which the ‘celebration of death’ refers – is my all-time favourite book. It has sat alone on an unassailable Everest for some thirty-eight years, while other peaks have risen and fallen around it.) The second part of the comment demonstrates Pullman’s failure to understand Lewis’ motivation. (Not that he should be blamed for this. Lewis’ own testimony that he simply started with an image that had been recurring in his mind’s eye from the time he was a teenager – that of a faun standing with an umbrella near a snowy lamp-post – is not often believed by Christians either. Most people believe he set out to write dogma in allegorical form. If you think that, ask yourself this: if you were deliberately setting out to write Christian doctrine as a fairytale, would you start with a lion, a witch and a wardrobe? Wouldn’t you choose something vastly more malleable to the theme?)

Pullman’s error in attributing motivation is a common one. The writer of the article about G.P. Taylor seemed to make the same mistake, as did the writers on the panel of the Sydney conference. The purpose of Christian fiction in many Christian minds should be to elucidate the truths of the gospel in a way our age can understand – to slip the verities of Christianity past the watchful dragons of the conscious mind (as it was once famously said.)

I shake my head at the naivety of it all. And you wonder why there hasn’t been anyone like Lewis or Tolkien in the last fifty years? Yes, it’s over fifty years this November since Lewis died (the same day as JFK and Aldous Huxley) and, although a number of notable Christians have tried writing fantasy in the meantime, there’s never been the same impact on the world as Narnia or Middle Earth.

Calvin Miller who wrote The Singer poem trilogy also wrote The Chronicles of Singreale: Guardians of the Singreale and War of the Moonrhymes. Somehow Miller’s image of the redeemer King just didn’t cut it for me. I think it was those transformations into a moondark creature which bloodily rended the kingdom’s enemies limb from limb that were my problem.

Then there was John White’s series which began with The Tower of Geburah – White wrote the most exquisitely lyrical non-fiction, but his fiction was strangely unsatisfying. He seemed to be trying too hard with Gaal the Shepherd to get across the symbolism in that classic tract, ‘Four Spiritual Laws’. I could go on, multiplying examples which are good but never quite more than good – but I’m sure you get the point.

Like those Sydney panellists said, it’s hard to find exceptional fiction married to Christian conviction. (Though there are superb exceptions, of course: Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time and Michel Tournier’s The Four Wise Men are two that leap to mind. And perhaps Tim Winton’s The Riders might just make it in.)

The problem in my view is a fundamental misunderstanding about what Christian writing is. Long ago, in what seems like another lifetime, I used to direct an annual camp under the auspices of Scripture Union; the camp was themed around the Chronicles of Narnia. Some kids would arrive with their tattered, dog-eared books, knowing the stories word for word; many would read the seven books, only to start over again. I observed the same sort of passion amongst friends who would read The Lord of The Rings every six months.

Inevitably the question arose in my mind: ‘What kind of writing inspires this kind of devotion?’ The actual prose, as far as I could see, wasn’t a quantum leap better than that of other authors. The Christian worldview wasn’t that much different to the moral and ethical universes of various agnostic writers. Yet, that the singular powerful pull exerted on the imagination by the works of Lewis and Tolkien had something to do with ‘Christian writing’ (whatever it was) I had no doubt. Tolkien wasn’t repeatedly voted most popular writer of the twentieth century for nothing. Lewis still isn’t the second favourite children’s author in Britain (and no, J.K. Rowling isn’t at the top! It’s Roald Dahl) for nothing either.

The question of exactly what Christian writing was indeed was hotly debated for a number of meetings at the mythopoeic club of the University of Queensland about 20 years ago. Finally, at a conference, it was decided to have a panel resolve the issue. After a lot of debate, it seemed to come down to Christian writing is writing done by Christians. Everyone agreed that there was something inherently unsatisfactory about that – why, for instance, was the ‘mind of Christ’, if that’s what it was, so appealing in Narnia and Middle Earth but so disappointing in Singreale or Geburah?

After studying hundreds of authors and thousands of books during the interim, I think I have the answer. The difference with Lewis and Tolkien is that they worked from a very particular inspiration – in the case of Lewis from his vision of a faun in snow and Tolkien from a line of old English poetry about the star Earendil. Lewis reported that the Lion suddenly came ‘bounding in’ to his story, while Tolkien took decades to metamorphose Earendil into an endless variety of grey elves and grey men, culminating in the Grey Wizard Gandalf. Lewis, you may know, is from the Welsh word for lion. It comes from the name of the Celtic god of light, The Lion of the Steady Hand. A faun in English folklore was traditionally called Jack – the nickname Lewis preferred from the time he was four years old. Is it any wonder that Jack Lewis eventually wrote about a faun and a lion? Those symbols were about who he was. In The Chronicles of Narnia , Lewis was re-making the story of his name. Tolkien was doing the same in The Lord of the Rings.

Names, the Hebrews once believed, had power. And Christians know, of course, that Jesus, to whom belongs the Name above all names, has power over everything in heaven and on earth. What we don’t believe that our own names have power too. Lewis re-made his name to serve the Jesus, the Lion of Judah, and not Llew, the Lion of the Steady Hand. I think that’s the part of the Mind of Christ that kids who read and re-read the stories love to bits and hold to their hearts with hope. It’s not consciously articulated, but I believe that’s what’s at the back of their devotion: if Lewis can re-make his name, there’s a chance for us, too. But unless your name is Jack Lewis, there’s no formula, there’s only guidelines. Unless your name is your name is Tolkien, there’s no formula in Middle Earth, just lots of pointers.

Make no mistake about this – Lewis didn’t get it right first go; he made a dozen attempts before Narnia; Tolkien spent fifty years with mostly unfinished scraps before he got his Grey Man quite right; so it’s no surprise that Calvin Miller’s initial attempt was so ungainly. He has my sympathy – the idea of a makeover into a redeemer king for Grendel (the limb-rending night-monster of Beowulf) is a most daunting prospect. If you’re wondering why it should be Grendel (and how it is linked to Miller), then I should point out that ‘grendel’ and ‘grind’ come from the same word-root, and what else do millers do? As for the connection between the names Earendil and Tolkien, ask me sometime when you’ve got a half an hour to spare to explore some curious but obscure European mythology about Grey Men. I simply don’t subscribe to the notion promoted by some scholars that Tolkien had a Freudian castration fixation. If you know mythology, you’ll realise his obsession was with ‘The Grey Man’.

Madeleine L’Engle’s work, not surprisingly, given her name, features angels repeatedly and even Philip Pullman’s interpretation of God is no real bombshell once you realise that the horse connection in his name goes back (as, strangely, all horse legends do) to the sea gods. Poseidon in Greece, Neptune in Rome, Llyr in Britain. From Shakespeare’s time that last was spelt ‘Lear’ and associated with madness. In all the fuss about Pullman’s work, a completely unremarked aspect is that, with a few exceptions, virtually all the adults are mad, bad and dangerous to know – certainly Lord Asriel and Mrs Coulter, the parents of the heroine Lyra (love that spelling, don’t you? – virtually gives it away) are ambitious, but no one seems to have noted that their megalomania coupled with their largely callous indifference to their child’s existence is exceedingly unnatural. God may be completely nuts in Pullman’s universe, but those who would supplant him aren’t backward in that regard either. Of Pullman’s work (and it is brilliant, at least at times, if I disregard a plothole or two big enough to shunt a planet through – a flaw shared by G.P. Taylor, so perhaps I shouldn’t be overly critical), I’m actually rather fond of The Subtle Knife – maybe that’s because I don’t detect any real aspect of ‘Philip’ or ‘Pullman’ in it. It is very reminiscent in its plot and description to With My Knife , the first book in Andrew Lansdown’s Chronicles of Klarin, which pre-dates it by just a few years. Now Lansdown is a name I’d expect to have something to do with a knife of some kind, since ‘lann’ is an old word for sword or blade.

Again, I could go on multiplying examples. But what is ‘Christian writing’? Although I’ve concentrated my examples exclusively in fantasy up to this point, I don’t think the answer is different, whatever the genre. When it comes to fiction, my belief is that Christian writing is that in which the power of the author’s name is placed under the Lordship and also in the service of Christ. The ‘mind of Christ’ is not something like Athena’s helmet which gifts us with automatic wisdom and insight and enables us to write perfectly about Christian doctrine or within a Christian worldview. It is something we have to work out, like our salvation, with fear and trembling; it is about the re-shaping of spiritual identity, the consequent re-forging of name; the choice to keep the power of that name in our own hands or place it in the wounded ones of the Lord of the Universe.

The real reason, in my view, that Philip Pullman utterly loathed the work of C.S. Lewis is because Pullman takes on board Jungian acceptance of the daemon, those familiar spirits deeply connected to name. (Are Pullman’s daemons real? He’s suggested that he believes in them and I agree with him that they are real; I disagree totally about what to do with them. Jung’s description of the anima/ animus is correct – he wrote of a dark spirit inimical and hostile to humanity, which he incredibly called by the Latin word for ‘life’ and suggested we embrace. In the hundreds of authors I’ve checked, this solution is instinctively avoided. It’s not just a Christian struggle, this ‘power of the name’ business. It is a struggle common to the human condition.) Lewis, on the other hand, realised finally that you can’t kick this lot in the teeth, you’ve got to get close enough to kiss, but actually embracing a daemon as Jung advocated is a mistake. A wrestle, however, can look like an embrace and Lewis, like Jacob at the ford of Jabbok, worked that Lion of the Steady Hand over so closely that sometimes the outcome was in doubt. Yet he didn’t accept any dark side, any Jungian shadow or any name that was spiritually contaminated. He struggled with his name until God conferred a new meaning on it. And in and through that creation of new meaning which the reader witnesses in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe , countless people have been blessed.

Owen Barfield rightly says that ‘when we can experience a change of meaning – a new meaning – there we may rightly join hands and sing with the morning stars; for there we are in at the birth. There is one of the exact points at which the genius, the originality, of the individual writer has first entered the world.’

My conclusion?

G.P. Taylor has written a couple of rattling good tales, but I can’t
see kids loving them to death like I’ve seen them love Narnia. (Why is it that The Last Battle has remained so high in my esteem for so long? I suspect it’s because it’s really written for the name Hamilton, not for Lewis. Hamilton was a name Lewis briefly adopted (from his mother’s family – many of whom, by the way, were Anglican ministers in NZ) as a pseudonym for his early poetry. ‘Celebration of death’!? No way! It’s Ragnarok unragnaroked, Armageddon trans-figured. Hmm, no wonder someone totally devoted to Llyr would take offence at it: no more sea.)

Now if you’re going out to follow Taylor’s admonition to write fiction, then don’t try to write doctrine. Don’t even think about it. Pray about finding yourself within the Mind of Christ as you write, transforming the most powerful thing you have to put at God’s disposal – not wealth, not time, not talent – but your name.

[Jackie · Rating 1 out of 5]

Definitely sucked. This book has the honor of being one of the worst books I've ever read. I should have trusted my initial feelings and quit. It's so bad, I won't pass it on and risk inflicting another human being with this trash, rather, that's exactly where it's going....into the trash.

[Lindsy · Rating 1 out of 5]

I might quit this book. Someone reviewed it as 'awful on a monumental scale.' It made me laugh, but it's a bit true.

Just because a book is written for a younger audience, doesn't mean it should be written poorly with no depth.

The author has told me single sentence reasons for why I should care about these characters, but I haven't been given actual motivation. The villian reads like an episode of The Smurfs. Make me actually care; don't just tell me that I should.

Some of the most offensive pieces of writing include:

"...sleeping monster awoken from it's sleep." -- Can we please hand this author a thesaurus?

and the use of "like so many" as a metaphor, which in the first couple chapters has already been used more than once.


Funny enough, this book is recommended for readers over the age of 12. At 12 I might have enjoyed this, but I think once I turned 13 I would have been as insulted by it as I am now.

[Abigail · Rating 1 out of 5]

Described by one critic as "the thinking Christian’s response to Philip Pullman," G.P. Taylor's Shadowmancer was one of the most keenly anticipated children's titles of 2004. Sadly, it utterly fails to live up to its billing...

It is the story of evil Parson Obadiah Demurrel, who decides that instead of worshiping God he will become a god. To that end he has stolen the Keruvim, an ancient African artefact of great power, which is pursued by the young spiritual warrior Raphah, intent on returning it to its rightful keepers. Kate and Thomas, two young children from Demurrel’s village, find their fates tied to Raphah, as does the smuggler Jacob Crane.

While the story begins promisingly enough, with the implication that it is man that is the source of religious corruption and injustice as opposed to God (Riathamus in the story), in clear opposition to Pullman’s cosmology of a corrupt god (the Authority), the book quickly devolves into a cliched sermon, parading the usual bogeymen feared by conservative Christians. Tarot cards and witchcraft are condemned, as is practically every folk practice or belief. The character Raphah reflects at one point that it is absurd that "civilized" people who believe in Riathamus should also believe in woodland spirits.

Predictably, Demurrel turns out not simply to be motivated by human evil, but is being controlled and manipulated by Pyratheon, a devil-figure who claims: "I am the one behind every deity that is not him. I am whatever distraction I could think of to call myself and get your kind to worship me." The implications of such statements for religious tolerance are chilling: only those who worship Riathamus (fill in the name of any real-life god/religion here) believe in the true god, and other faiths and gods are really the devil? I'm not sure what part of that would be considered "thoughtful..."

[Selena Pigoni · Rating 1 out of 5]

I read this a long time ago and it still sticks with me. ...But so can gum on your shoe.

It was heavily religious, and it wasn't even subtle about it. God showed up constantly to interfere with things. It's one thing to have God appear and go, "Blah blah blah, now go do my bidding" but here he was as much a character in the story as anybody else.

The writing was okay at best. And in my opinion, it marginalized any female characters that appeared in the book.

At the beginning it seemed okay before religion truly got involved. If it had stayed as "This guy's nutty and evil and using religion to get ultimate power for his own greed" it would have been fine. But then he was possessed or something and... yeah.

If you're heavily religious and don't mind a black-and-white view of the world, you'd like this. For me, though, it was too predictable and black-and-white with no middle ground. Everything that wasn't "the true god" was automatically evil. There wasn't even a, "well, such and such is just an extension of belief..." No. You're wrong.

It was like being dragged to church. Again.

[Kat Heckenbach · Rating 2 out of 5]

I've tried about three times to read this book--the first couple times I never made it past the first chapter or two, and this time I got about half-way. It's right at the edge between MG and YA, which is the sweet spot I really like. It's dark, it's got magic. And, as a Christian, I was really curious because this is one of the few Christian fantasy books published in the general market. I was expecting something a bit more subtle. I found this heavy-handed and preachy. The writing is okay, the two characters, Thomas and Kate, were likable, but the villain was completely two-dimensional. Bummer, but after three tries, I'm putting it down and not trying again.

[Dan · Rating 1 out of 5]

Shadowmancer was a terrible read, and I actually regretted finishing it. It started off promisingly enough, but it devolves into nothing but a religious sermon saying 'there is only one god, and everyone who worships any other deity or concept is really just worshipping the devil'. The major villain, the Vicar of the village, is so stereotypical, I was waiting for him to start twirling his mustache and cackling maniacally.

All in all, a very poorly written, poorly thoughtout, and way to heavy handed novel. Disappointing.

[Deejarh · Rating 4 out of 5]

Vicar Obadiah Demurral isn't satisfied running the affairs of his village -foolishly he wants to control the world. He no longer wants to worship God he wants to be God. And if his plans works, he will obtain a weapon so powerful that all of creation will fall down at his feet. Demurral will stop at nothing -- even commanding restless souls to do his bidding.
Raphah, a young man on a Godly mission, has come a long distance to reclaim the ancient relic powerful weapon Demurral has stolen-- but he dangerously fall in the wrong hands-- so, he can't do it alone.
Even younger are Thomas and Kate, accidentally drawn into this ongoing war between good and evil. Their struggle against Demurral brings them face to face with the powers of darkness in this unforgettable epic battle.
The only way to stop Demurral is to believe in Riathamus ( Raphah's God).
I have seen many bad reviews on this book but G.P Taylor's novel has taken me on a breathtaking voyage, full of suspense and intrigue, where fallen angels and demonic forces come in the night and where ultimate sacrifice might even be life itself.

[[ J o ] · Rating 1 out of 5]

Written in opposition to His Dark Materials and other "atheist propaganda", Shadowmancer tries in vain to be anywhere near as good. It is terribly written, which doesn't always stop something from being popular, but the story is so droll and boring it makes getting through the 300 pages so utterly contemptible. The characters are 2D, but I will say, in some defence, that they were fairly varied and not the same Mary-Sue wish wash you usually get. The plot was barely even a plot and it seemed to have been over in a day (though it actually lasted maybe a week).

It had some nice North-East location-based folklore, which gave it more credence than it deserves, but all in all it's just a Narnia wannabe, without the lyrical prowess or storytelling ability.

[Qt · Rating 3 out of 5]

I love the plot of this book, but it never really grabbed my attention. Maybe I just wasn't the right audience--it had all the right ingredients, but for whatever reason, I never felt very involved.

[Maggie · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm a bit loathe to say I enjoyed this book, when at times I was reading quickly to be able to finish it - and not in the OMG I can't wait to know what happens, good type of reading quickly.
I appreciated the research into folklore that had gone into it, and the basis in Christianity was mildly irritating but not too over the top. It didn't ring very true in that these people all had proof to believe in Riathamus - whatever happened to faith? Anyway, childhood hangups aside, the story was actually quite good.
I have rated Shadowmancer so low because it simply didn't point out on the cover (I'm not sure if other editions have this info on them) that it was a first in series. At the end I'm just not that invested in the characters to buy the next one. ..and it DOESN'T finish - did I mention that?

[Kalani · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book was not really my type. It talks about a sorcerer wanting to control the highest power in the whole entire universe. But he can't control it because there are people in his way. The people that are in his way is Rapahah,

[Karina · Rating 2 out of 5]

Apparently I read this book before and just didn't realize it. Must have been before I moved to US, because I'm sure I'd have remembered the distinctive word "Shadowmancer". I remembered most of the scenes in re-reading, so nothing came as surprise, so that definitely took away from my enjoyment of the story this time.

What I learned from this book is that religion and fantasy don't mix. I kept thinking, "This is not the way it works." While, okay, I cannot say I know what God would or wouldn't do, etc. it was hard to suspend unbelief.

In addition, the story was too moralizing at times, and the ending was highly unsatisfying. All this build-up and for what?

And I nearly forgot, but the description of how the villain turned to evil was ... There's no word to describe it, so I'll let the text speak for itself:

"...he was overcome by a sudden greed.

Darkness and desire has consumed him, washing from him all his light and charity. Demurral was changed in the twinkling of an eye. Every ounce of goodness, every drop of mercy and every speck of joy were suddenly and powerfully transformed in one shudder of his bones. In that instance he has given over all that was good to that which was corrupt."

Okay, people don't change that fundamentally in a "twinkling of an eye". Plus later in the book, the author contradicts himself a bit, as he tells how Demurral as a boy mistreated his pet. So was he good initially, or what?

[Erica · Rating 1 out of 5]

I thought this book would never end. I really try to stick with books, eternally optimistic that a good story will come out of hiding at some point, right up to the bitter end. And that's about the only place this story came together, in the very ending which is merely a jumping off point for the next volume--thanks, Publishing Industry, for the two-book starter contracts--ARGH!
I had high hopes for this book, what a great title! On the surface it sounds good, but scratch it and you get nothing but dust and preaching.
I think the Victoriana aspect is what made this a less interesting read for me, much in the way that Golden Compass made my head bleed while I read it. Oh, wait, that was the smacking my head into a wall to stay focused that made it bleed...right. But the whole pseudo-Christian evangelizing is what really put me off. I think I can honestly say that I finished the book only to find out why the sky was glowing on the horizon. I think that it must be explained in Book Two.

[Brandi · Rating 1 out of 5]

I bought this book long ago for unknown reasons. I'm not religious and I don't buy into the whole idea of children not reading certain material because it "focuses on witchcraft and that's the sign of the devil." I personally think those people need to get a life. I personally think overly religious people need to get a life, but I digress. This book was so awful, I don't know what made me buy it. Probably in my youth I thought the title and cover seemed interesting. But I must have always known how utterly awful this book was because I never got past page 40. (I have several pieces of my youth as bookmarks to attest to that) This book tries so hard to make the reader "see the light" but all I really saw was a bunch of folklore about biblical things. The adventure was lame, the plot was lame, the characters were so one-dimensional I am amazed they didn't float away. I should have gotten rid of this book long ago. Utterly awful. I don't even know why I gave it 2 stars. I'm changing that as soon as I finish this sentence.

[Melinda · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is dark. Many other reviews complained about a strong Christian message. In my opinion, that message was flawed. Taylor shrouded the "Jesus" character and the "salvation" in mysticism. Raphah, a mysterious youth from Cush has "hidden knowledge" and mystical powers. His role on the side of good was not clearly defined. There was definite good and evil, but I thought the line between them was often muddied with the mystical creatures.

I could not really connect with any of the characters. They were not deep enough to pull me in and there was too much mystery about them. I gave it two stars, because it was interesting enough for me to finish. I would not recommend it to anyone, especially to teenagers. They are still discovering who they are. The theology in this book is strong, but very muddy.

[Jacob]

It seems that Shadowmancer is going to end in hopeless defeat. If the story ended this way it wouldn't be out of place with most stories ending on a sad note. It would have met the requirements of postmodernist and humanist to a “T”. G.P. Taylor’s writing is deeply spiritual and in a fantastical sense. Shadowmancer’s world is built upon the idea that there are spiritual powers. Although in Taylor’s writings there is no neutrality between the good and evil modes of these powers. This is what makes the writing of G.P. Taylor and Phillip Pullman so different from each other. In Pullman’s books man overcome’s both good and evil. In his “Dark Martial’s” series man kills God and Heaven is myth. I believe that Taylor’s writing is a contour strike to Pullman’s writings. In Shadowmancer Good overcomes. It is man that gets stuck between these two powers. This is crux of this story.

[Siobhan · Rating 1 out of 5]

Shadowmancer is one of those books I almost avoided, due to the number of negative reviews. At the same time, I was curious as to what made the book so bad. When I managed to get my hands on the book – for free, I might add – I decided to give it a try and see what I thought.

I quickly fell in with the majority with this one. There was no real depth or emotion to this story, and I really didn’t care what was happening. I kept waiting for something interesting to happen, for something unique to jump out, but it never did.

I could say a lot more about this one – from the bland writing style to the way information was delivered – but there are plenty of reviews out there that already explain it well.

[Alana · Rating 1 out of 5]

I picked this up from a charity shop a few months ago thinking it sounded rather good. At the time I was unaware it was actually a children's book but that isn't usually a problem for me, I have read a great many children's books that were brilliant and enjoyed them. However this book just did not hold my concentration or interest at all. There were some good ideas but the plot and characters were over all very weak and although many children's fantasy books I have read have had an underlying Christian/god all knowing plot that rarely bothers me, this one lays it on way too thick and spoils the book even more. I was very disappointed. :(

[Tom D · Rating 1 out of 5]

I remember when I got this book, it was in a bookstore which had a giant ad that said "If you liked Harry Potter, meet the new master" or some nonsense like that.

I had just finished Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban back then, so I bought it. I started reading and page after page I was thinking "ok kind of a slow story" but I kept reading. Suddenly I realized I read half of the book and NOTHING interesting happened. The plot is generic, the characters are generic, and the writer seems to be trying to give some kind of sermon?

It's a really insipid book you fellow reader, should avoid. There are too much gems to read and little time, don't waste it with this one.

[Apple84 Wylie · Rating 1 out of 5]

Why , oh why can't I give this book no stars? I won't even vent about the goings-on of this godawful train wreck in terms of "plot" or "characterization". This is just plain bad, folks. Bad writing. Bad characterization. Bad logic. Bad dialogue. It may actually be the worst book I've ever tried to read. It may actually be the worst book ever. I read somewhere that the author got a 6 million dollar book deal for a series of these things--and there is also a motion picture in the works. So many struggling, talented people in the world and this thing sees the light of day. Depressing....

[Michelle · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wouldn't say this book is as bad as most people tend to think. It wasn't the best, but it did manage to keep my attention throughout most of it. My main problem with it was that it was slightly creepy. I read it because I like fictional religious books, but this one was just too intense. The forces of evil sound like creatures from a horror movie. I don't see the point of giving God and others different names, especially when it's obvious who the author is referring to. Overall, it was an interesting yet disturbing book.

[Kara · Rating 1 out of 5]

A guy I used to work with recommended this book to me, saying it was better than Harry Potter. I like the guy, and he kept raving about it, so I tried it out. Biggest waste of time and money EVER. I mean, if you want a really good example of a writer shoving Christianity down your throat in the least imaginative way possible, sure, this is the book for you. But if you want more than a half-baked storyline and one-dimensional characters, stay far far away from this book. Worst. Book. Ever.

[Jthink · Rating 1 out of 5]

I don't know what all the fuss was about regarding this book. It just goes to show what a falsehood most "reviews" are. Few really cracking books get reviewed at all; but if there's something even slightly "newsworthy" about a book or its writer e.g. a big-breasted author, or in this case, a real-life vicar, the write-up gets copied time and time again and commented on; and it shoots to the top of the best-seller list. The publishing industry has a lot to answer for, in my view.

[Fredrik Nael · Rating 1 out of 5]

Enggak ada nilai bintang minus ya buat dikasih ke buku ini...???

[Reading bunny · Rating 1 out of 5]

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