This is the first book in what’s evidently a popular series; the fifth or sixth book has just come out, and Tor has issued a special low-priced printing of this book in the hopes of selling the whole set to a new crop of readers. Evidently they think well of it, and on the strength of that I bought a copy while we were on vacation. Unfortunately, I wasn’t terribly impressed.

But before I go into that, here are a few words about the book. It is set in yet another shadow of the archetypal Western European Feudal Swords & Sorcery Milieu. The country of Achar was founded a thousand years ago following the Wars of the Axe, in which the followers of the god Artor drove the People of the Wind and the People of the Horn–now collectively known as “The Forbidden”–into desolate regions to the north of Achar. After the wars, the Acharites, in keeping with Artor’s Way of Axe and Plough, cut down the forests, tilled the land, were fruitful and multiplied. As our story begins they are ruled by King Priam, and Artor is served by a church hierarchy known as the “Seneschal” (huh?). The Seneschal has a military arm, the Axe Wielders, who are led by one Axis Rivkahson, the BattleAxe of the Axe Wielders. Axis is the bastard son of Priam’s sister, Princess Rivkah, who died at this birth. Rivkah was married to Duke Searlas of Ichtar, and gave him a legitimate son, Bornehold, who is now the Duke; Axis and Bornehold hate each other passionately. Both love a noble woman named Faraday who is betrothed to Bornehold by her parents but nevertheless has given her heart to Axis. Already we have enough hatred to drive a moderately sized plot; but there is worse to come.

In accordance with the legendary Prophecy, of which none of the Acharites has heard, Axis’ unknown father has two sons: Axis, and the evil, fiendish, and uncanny Gorgrael, the Destroyer. Soon Gorgrael’s wraiths of ice and snow will begin to attack Achar from the north; the entire land will be made waste unless the Acharites can band together with the remnants of the Forbidden. Only united by Axis, the StarMan, and Faraday, the TreeFriend, can the three races defeat Gorgrael–otherwise, they will die.

On the face of it, this is a reasonably typical premise for an epic fantasy. So why didn’t I like it? First, the writing’s lousy. The prose is especially clunky for the first hundred or so pages, though it improves a bit after that. Douglass has no ear for names, some of which are laughable, and she moves her characters around like puppets. Sometimes they’ll have a fit of angst over something she wants them to do, but then they obediently do whatever the plot–that is, the Prophecy–wants them to do.

On top of that, there’s something about the book, beyond just the quality of the writing, that I found repellent.

Given all this, why is the series so popular? It’s possible that the writing improves; but why would readers have moved on to the second novel after reading the first? I think I know why, and it has to do with why I found the book so repellent. It’s all about the world view.

In N.T. Wright’s academic lingo, a “world view” is defined, in part, by two kinds of stories told by those who share the world view: stories they tell to bolster and strengthen their own world view, and stories they tell to subvert the world views of others. Some stories can work in both modes. The fantasy of C.S. Lewis, for example, is a prime example of work written from a Christian world view, which strengthens that world view among Christian readers, and which may well subvert non-Christian world views among other readers. Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials is an excellent example of fiction written specifically to subvert the Christian world view. (If you don’t believe me, Google some of Pullman’s recent interviews. Lewis makes him so mad he can hardly contain himself.)

Douglass tells a story in which the dominant civilization, which looks markedly Western European with its monarchy and church, is based on lies. The church is the guardian of those lies. The heroes, Axis and Faraday, must abandoned the lies of their childhood and embrace the Old Ways of the People of the Horn and the People of the Wind. The People of the Horn live in the remnants of the Great Forest of Avarinheim; they are strictly non-violent and live in harmony with nature. That is, they always apologize to the animals they kill for food or for blood sacrifice (!) to the Mother, a goddess who personifies Nature. If they attempt to retain their old beliefs, all of Achar will be laid waste.

Did I mention that none of the brothers of the Seneschal are shown in a good light? The leaders are narrow-minded, intolerant, and violent at best, and usually hypocritical liars to boot; and the one parish “priest” that we meet is a child molester.

What we have here is a story which attempts to subvert the institutions of our Western and Christian heritage in favor of (I’m guessing) a liberal, literary, (and most likely purely metaphorical) paganism. As such it’s a story which I’d naturally find repellent, and one which I figure will resonate with a certain class of reader, and sufficiently to overcome the weakness of the writing and the character development.

Anyway, I’m giving the rest of the series a miss–I’ll just have to find something else to read on the plane during next week’s business trip.