In the Tenth Age of the Star Kings, in that far off time when mankind had spread beyond the Home Cluster, when the Immortal Lords of the Exchange ruled a million worlds... there was a man called Dragonard. Some called him The Beast, but to others he was Man's Last Hope.
Dragonard himself did not know what to believe when he was kidnapped from a prison planet and turned loose as a human weapon to be plunged to the heart of a cosmic mystery...
John William Jakes, the author of more than a dozen novels, is regarded as one of today’s most distinguished writers of historical fiction. His work includes the highly acclaimed Kent Family Chronicles series and the North and South Trilogy. Jakes’s commitment to historical accuracy and evocative storytelling earned him the title of “the godfather of historical novelists” from the Los Angeles Times and led to a streak of sixteen consecutive New York Times bestsellers. Jakes has received several awards for his work and is a member of the Authors Guild and the PEN American Center. He and his wife, Rachel, live on the west coast of Florida.
Also writes under pseudonyms Jay Scotland, Alan Payne, Rachel Ann Payne, Robert Hart Davis, Darius John Granger, John Lee Gray. Has ghost written as William Ard.
As a book it's better than The Planet Wizard, but my impression is that Jakes didn't know what he wanted, and as a result the setting of II Galaxy (as it is always referred, for some reason) feels muddled and incomplete.
I like the impression that II Galaxy is a vaguely broken place, with both stellar technology and brutal savagery. The immortal Star Kings and their trading houses tightly control recovered pre-cataclysm technology and the means of production, and rule the galaxy with a decadent and iron fist. As a result you get the planet Pentagon, which has this cool Mos Eisley thing going on with crumbling infrastructure, crowded filthy cities, limited technology, transportation by horse-equivalent only, ruined castles, and angry iron-age natives. It feels like technology is no longer being developed, that the trading houses only churn out the products that they know, and that if you're on the outskirts of society then you'd better be good with a sword, blaster, or thrown rock. And there may be certain things, like spaceships and power stations, which are completely irreplaceable.
Unfortunately it is only an impression. A stagnant, almost feudal, society squatting in the ruins of something grander makes sense, but Jakes is never explicit about that and perhaps never made that conclusion.
I'm really on the fence of whether to pursue the third of this series. I love the concept of II Galaxy as written in summary, but the execution doesn't seem to pan out.
Also, every time a woman appears in the story, Jakes seems compelled to give us a description of her breasts. Even if this isn't her first appearance...it's like we're receiving a status report or something.
Pretty decent space adventure with a not-too-terrible protagonist. The pacing is fast, the action is ever-present, but unfortunately, the female characters don’t get to do much and are constantly objectified in terms of beauty and breasts. It’s a shame, because otherwise it’s quite okay. That is, if you can stomach some fairly overused tropes. Still, it’s surprising how much Jakes, who gave up writing SF in favor of historical fiction, and being very successful at that, managed to squeeze in these 160 pages.
A rollicking start, but the book never quite finds the grand adventure that the setting deserves. Definitely fun, interesting characters, but doesn't quite deliver on the vast scope of the broader events happening during the story.
I read this about fifty years ago from the remainder bin in Woolworths. In fact I read it several times because it fell into my literary comfort zone; even as an undiscriminating teenager I'd have preferred to read something else and I still would.
Based on my recollection of the story, which at this distance in time is not at all reliable:
I had not known before today that there were (2) sequels. I haven't the slightest urge to find out what happens next.