The first volume in Vance's Lyonesse trilogy felt like such a departure for the author--not that it didn't have his characteristic wit and oddness, but I really felt it was one of the first times that I was invited to feel for his characters. His usual fare is light and disconnected, skipping across the surface without taking time to reflect. His characters are often clowns, comically suffering for their own errors and bruised egos, motivated by base urges, like spite and greed, and lacking more personal depth--yet I found Suldrun's subtle sense of alienation and melancholy to be vastly more intriguing than all of Cugel's adventures in Dying Earth, no matter how wacky they became.Which is why it was a disappointment that this second volume returns to more of the same from Vance: largely episodic picaresque scenes. And yet, unlike the more silly and freewheeling style of Dying Earth, here his silliness is at constant odds with his larger, more serious plot of war and politics and betrayal.The explanations of politics and history fall particularly flat, trying to drum up some interest in the intrigue and battle which would be better served by personal connections from the characters through whom we experience the tale--as opposed to references to (thankfully brief) appendices and lengthy descriptions of architecture and food.He gets caught up in these explanations and descriptions, in reminding us of where we are, what's going on, and what the characters' motivations are. These are central aspects of the story, so the fact that he feels that he has to keep restating them just highlights the fact that he's struggling with focus, structure, and pacing in a longer, more interconnected story.These explanations extend to the characters--we're often being told why they do what they do, and it's not just that we're in their heads, but that Vance seems concerned with making them transparent to us. It’s not really an effective use of words to sit and tell us why the characters do everything. The reader should be able to figure that out from the behavior and details, from how they are presented. If it isn’t clear from how it’s presented, then you don’t really gain anything by sitting down and telling us.It’s also a denial of the reader’s act of interpretation, that instead of looking at the character and trying to figure them out, to read them, we are instead told what ‘the truth’ of it is. This doesn’t mean we should never get into the characters’ heads, but what makes a character intriguing is to see their conflicts, and the gradual progression of those conflicts, which eventually lead to a point of climax, where we see that conflict come to some kind of fruition. Of course, these conflicts should also relate to the character’s outer life--the problems they have to face should reveal those internal conflicts, and force the characters to come to terms with them.During one section, Aillas knows there is a spy in his midst, but doesn’t know who it is. So, he goes on to mention several times that he’s concerned that there’s a spy, and that he wonders who it might be. As readers, of course we’re curious, but it’s just redundant to have the character keep mentioning it in the same way without any kind of progression or fresh view on the subject.Certainly, sometimes a writer has to remind their reader of a fact, to catch them up, and it's admittedly always a challenge to find a way to do this without being obtrusive or repetitive, and to find a balance between too much explanation and not enough--but that's what sets an author of skill apart.In the first book, Vance managed to do a better job giving us Suldrun's and Aillas' internal conflicts without overstating them, and letting them develop naturally, over the course of the book--and besides Suldrun and Aillas, we also had the strange intertwinings of Faude Carfilhiot and Melancthe, these figures trying to discover their own identity, at once competent but unfulfilled, literal half-creatures searching for wholeness.In The Green Pearl, there is a similar relationship between Melancthe and Shimrod, but we really only get one side of the story. We see Shimrod's pining after her, his attempts to romance her, his thoughts and desires, but not hers. She is meant to be a mystery, and we do get some explanations for why she behaves the way she does, but by and large, she serves mainly as a motivation and foil for Shimrod's romantic intentions, the source of his desires and frustrations--which is unfortunate, since she seems to be a much more interesting character, with more intriguing motivations.That Vance faltered here may be because the emotional depth he's dealing with isn't as intense as the star-crossed romance in the first book--and also because a star-crossed romance is much easier to get your head around, rather than the existential struggle with identity that Melancthe and Shimrod go through as magical creatures.Vance’s villains also tend to be more interesting than his heroes, not an uncommon trait in writers, because villains are, overall, given more free reign in terms of behavior and personality. This being said, they are still rather flat, often acting out of malice and spite instead of more complex internal motivations. It's more that they have more vigor, that they are more demonstrable in their personalities because they are given freer reign.All in all, it shouldn't be surprising that Vance should struggle somewhat with this series. Here is an author who tends to prefer silly, amoral heroes motivated by greed and self-preservation now trying to produce characters of depth and pathos, who prefers episodic, humorous, unstructured stories but is now trying to relate a long-running, large scale political conflict, who tends to tell stories about character faltering and ultimately failing, now trying to depict a rise to power, who usually portrays sex as a lewd joke, but is now trying to capture deeper romantic feelings.It's all outside of his comfort zone--which is why the true surprise is that he did so well with this experiment in the first book. Then again, the second volume in a trilogy is notorious for lagging and struggling along between the promise of the opening and the excitement of the climax. I'm still intrigued to see where this experiment ultimately ends up.
I read Suldrun's Garden (then titled Lyonesse), the first novel in Jack Vance's Lyonesse fantasy trilogy, in the mid-1980s. After three decades, I finally return to Lyonesse and its second novel, The Green Pearl.When I read Suldrun's Garden, I was impressed by Vance's readable prose, his skill with incisive and witty dialog and his convincing worldbuilding, but the first half of the novel disappointed me. It amounted to a costume romance, the story of kings and queens and princesses in an alternate but mimetic world, politicking, having love affairs, going to war, betraying each other, and so forth. The setting could just as easily have been medieval Europe. Much of what passes for high fantasy is like this, but not the kind I like. I need fantasy in my fantasy: things unearthly, magical, inhuman, eerie and dangerous. The novel's second half, though, was vastly different, almost a different novel: suddenly the reader is plunged into a world of fairies, trolls, of magic, adventure, wonder, danger, horror. That half of Suldrun's Garden I loved to death, and thought it was one of the best things I'd read in years.I regret to report that The Green Pearl has the same problem with unevenness, and that it's worse.The novel begins with brief stories about the green pearl of the title, a magical item that first empowers and then destroys its possessor, as it passes from one luckless owner to the next. The stories are clever, fast-moving, and entertaining. Then, after about 30 pages, Vance parks the pearl in a forest glade, and forgets about it until near the novel's end. The novel's middle three-quarters or so concerns the political adventures of Aillas, a character from Suldrun's Garden, a newly minted king, who must struggle to consolidate his inherited lands and beat back assaults from neighboring kingdoms. The story is well-told, but almost entirely a drama of war and political intrigue, with few fantasy elements. It has another problem: Aillas has it too easy. He effortlessly surmounts all difficulties and never seems to be in any serious danger. Potentially interesting subplots develop, but Vance tends to step on the climax, or abandons the story and never finishes it in a satisfying manner. Finally, about seventy-five pages from the end, the reader is treated to a brief portal-fantasy-within-a-costume-romance in which a sympathetic character has entertaining, dangerous and wildly fantastical adventures in until the book's end.Vance's use of point of view bears mention. Much of the novel is close to third-person objective, and the reader is left to puzzle out for themselves what the characters are thinking or feeling. Sometimes, though, Vance dips into the thoughts of one character or another, sometimes different characters in the same scene, although never 'head-hopping'. Vance always lets at least a page go by, and subtly moves the focus of the narrative from one character to another (even though both may be in the same room, having a conversation) before he allows the reader into the second character's thoughts. The narrator is never chatty and never wanders away from the scene of the action -- as a Susanna Clarke omniscient narrator might -- has almost no 'voice', and is essentially transparent to the reader. Vance carries this off skillfully, and I doubt the casual reader would ever notice the narrator or the POV. The novel is a tutorial in one way successfully to handle omniscient POV. In summation, although this novel is easy to read and enjoy, and is skillfully written at level of line, paragraph, and scene, it is ultimately frustrating and disappointing. It feels like two quite different types of fantasy novel, cut up and interleaved together. The plot and subplots never develop convincingly. There is a lack of narrative tension.
What do You think about The Green Pearl (1985)?
Oh, I had forgotten just how wonderful it is to be cruising in a Vance fantasy. He writes with such ease and wit. For example, a woman is ignoring a wizard ... "he worked a small spell. Into the room flew a small bird, to circle Melancthe's head and settle on the rim of her goblet. It chirped a time or two, committed a nuisance into the goblet and flew away." Perfect. We have entwined a military-political story (King Aillas) and the schemings of several magicians. Good stories, both, with heroism and valour and bad guys getting what they deserve and then some. The only fault with this book is that it's going to be difficult to track down the other two volumes!
—Tim Hicks
HERE ARE THE PREMISESOF THE NOTABLE AND SINGULARZUCKDEALER IN OBJECTS UNIQUE UNDER THE FIRMAMENTMY PRICES ARE FAIR!MY GOODS ARE OFTEN REMARKABLE!No guarantees! No returns! No refunds!Welcome back to the Elder Isles, the fantastic realm of warring kingdoms and powerful wizards, beautiful maidens and fickle faery folks, where druids fight against Norse raiders and Arthurian Knights cross paths with early Christian pilgrims and with the last survivors of Atlantis. Get ready for adventure, for bloodshed and romance, for alternative universes that can be reached through magical portals and for grotesque creatures unseen anywhere else except from the pen of the master of ceremonies : Jack Vance, who really lets his imagination fly all over the map and for whom one universe, one planet is never enough.As in the first volume of the Lyonesse epic, these flights of fancy can get overwhelming and just one step away from self-indulgence. The plot and the wanderings of the main actors are even more pointless and leisurely than in Suldrun’s Garden. By the end of the novel, Vance does a decent job of tying up the many loose ends, but it felt a bit rushed after all the build-up, and many questions and resolutions are left for the last part of the trilogy. Green Pearl is a fine example of the “the journey is more interesting than the destination” school of adventure.Having made my complaints, you can probably understand why the plot is difficult to reduce to a few lines of synopsis, and still make sense. I must also be careful to avoid spoilers. The most important aspect I think readers need to be aware of is that the Lyonesse books are not standalones, they are just three episodes of one huge story that got too big to be published in one single novel ( not unlike Lord of the Rings). So, if you haven’t already done so, pick up Suldrun’s Garden and get busy getting familiar with the Elder Isles and with their ten competing kingdoms, with the Forest of Tantrevalles where each tree, each meadow and each creature you meet is brimming with magic and mystery and danger. Boiled down to its most simple building bricks: there’s an ambitious king in the town of Lyonesse (Casmir) who plots to reunite all ten kingdoms under his rule, and he is prepared to break every rule of decency and morality to achieve his goal. His opponent is the young King Aillas, who is as lawful and honorable as Casmir is dastardly. Casmir is allied with a couple of wizards (Tamurello and Vishbume) while Aillas has on his side the powerful archmage Murgen and his disciple Shimrod.The ladies are as strong and interesting as the men: Melancthe – the Galateea created by the witch Desmei as a revenge against men, unbearably beautiful but completely devoid of emotions; Tatzel - the warrior princess of the Ska raiders, proud and merciless with both her enemiesand her tentative suitors; the gentle and melancholic Glyneth, the golden maiden who is relegated to the role of damzel in distress yet still manages to show initiative and courage.My favorite episodes in the novel : the introduction with the fate of the Green Pearl as it passes from one hand to another bringing misfortune and despair to all who touch it; the romantic journey of Aillas and Tatzel, full of perils yet maintaining a humorous tone and elaborate turns of phrase; the vain attempts of Shimrod to find a flutter of emotion in Melancthe empty breast; the whole journey into the alternative realm of Tanjecterly, more weird and incredible than any other I have yet read from Vance, with its own romantic subplot between Gwyneth and Kul, her golem-like guardian. Last but not least, I have enjoyed returning to the faery fairs in the middle of the Tantrevalles forest, where anything could happen and where Zuck and his fellow merchants will sell more weird stuff than you can imagine.There’s not much more to say about the plot: even when things were going nowhere I was still captivated by the language and the humorous twists of fate (similar often to the adventures of the likable rogues from the Dying Earth series). On the more serious side of the epic, there’s a lot of death and foreshadowing of doom to balance the lighter tone of many of the passages. There is also some food for thought on contemporary issues, if the reader is inclined to pursue them: I hereby declare torture, in all its categories, to be a capital offense, punishable by death and confiscation of property. (Aillas uncompromising stance on the subject of torture)---- His subjects espoused a variety of beliefs: Zoroastrianism, a whiff or two of Christianity, Pantheism, Druidical doctrine, a few fragments of classic Roman theology, somewhat more of the Gothic system, all on a substratum of ancient animism and Pelasgian Mysteries. Such a melange of religions suited King Casmir well. (despite being the evil overlord of the epic, Casmir gets some bonus points for arguing in favor of religious tolerance and diversity)Conclusion: Highly recommended to readers more interested in adventure and beautiful prose than a tight plot. To be read together with the other Lyonesse books.
—Algernon
The thing about Jack Vance novels, whether they be fantasy or SF, at heart, all they're are adventure stories, there's the cheery side that's open to discovery and vivacious experiences, and there's the side that's running, dodging, fighting against the tides of danger. It's a child's enthusiasm in a work so mature, it leaves you feeling nothing but grateful for the experience and awed. And yes some times it can be frustrating, if you're a reader, cause you find yourself yelling at the characters in the book to get a move on already, "you stupid wench, linger here no longer!"-- sorry Princess Glyneth. Anyway, as someone who writes you appreciate the style and the sadism Vance subjects his characters to, he never lets anyone off easy, at least not until they've proven they're worth their mettle. If there's anything I've learnt from Vance books it's that. Always leave the reader a little frustrated. Reading Vance books is when you get an appreciation for the words, "It kept me on the edge of my seat," But enough about that, The Green Pearl is an object of utter depravity, it being all that remains of Faude Carfilhiot, the being the sorceress Desmei created alongside Melancthe to act as exemplars of all her beauty and grace. The book isn't entirely about this pearl, it starts out that way, then trickles out to more immediate concerns, like King Allias march on North Ulflands. His uniting of the southern Ulflands to wage war against the Ska of the North. King Allias proves himself time and time again, beating the Ska on guerilla warfare alone. And affording within all this turbulent time to garner a dalliance with Lady Tatzel, whom he first makes her slave, and to be honest I was hoping there would grow a romantic attachment, but that's reserved for someone more worthy. Glyneth? Can't wait to see how that pans out, or how King Casmir deals with the looming implication of the prophecy concerning Prince Dhrun and how he'll handle Princess Maduoc, whom he knows is a faery changeling and not his granddaughter. Can't wait to start the next book. Onwards, Onwards!
—Derek
