Monday, 11 December 2017 11:34 pm
Book Review: His Majesty's Dragon
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deckardcanineI was previously unfamiliar with the term "flintlock fantasy." It makes sense not to restrict traditional fantasy elements to facsimiles of the Middle Ages, but I never gave much thought to reimagining later actual historical periods on Earth with them. This Naomi Novik novel, for instance, features dragons participating on both sides of the Napoleonic Wars.
At the start, Captain Laurence's English crew captures a French vessel that turns out to be shipping a dragon egg. Their joy at this victory gives way to mixed feelings when they learn that the egg will hatch well before they reach a shore; they weren't prepared to take care of a fast-growing hatchling. Above all, they worry about who if anyone will form a nearly unbreakable bond and have little choice but to leave the navy for the aviation corps. It turns out to be Laurence himself, who dubs the dragon "Temeraire" after the 1749 warship. At first he pines for the plans he had for his own life, but by the time an opportunity comes to return to the navy, he and Temeraire have grown too fond of each other.
A running theme is Laurence sticking out like a sore thumb among the aviators. They don't immediately warm up to him, since they've trained for dragon handling since childhood and he's thrust into a captaincy from square one. Besides, the different branches of the armed forces think little of one another, which I suspect is true in every nation and era.
Most of the differences make the corps look more modern than the contemporary navy, requiring a bit of a paradigm shift on Laurence's part. Aviators aren't as neat, rigid, or ceremonious as naval officers. They don't duel over a slight, if only because they're harder to replace. Some of them are women, as dragons can be picky. (I had been surprised at the initial near-absence of women in a book by one; even Temeraire is male.) And since the job doesn't lend itself to many home visits, very few are married -- tho they're strongly encouraged to have kids so that their longer-lived dragons can continue with a similar bond. It looks likely that Laurence, who lost a fiancee when he joined the corps, will take up with a female captain in a later volume.
Unlike in several other series I know where dragons bond with humans, there's no evidence of telepathy; instead, the dragons learn language through the eggshell and can say complete sentences shortly after hatching. (A supplement near the back of the book indicates that this knack usually fades quickly with age.) Even given that they spend much longer in the eggs than we spend in wombs, you'd think they'd need visual cues to piece everything together. Still, I gave the premise a pass for the sake of moving things along.
This capacity for speech makes the interspecies interactions a bit interesting. Dragons are widely regarded as beasts, yet the least intelligent specimen we encounter (bred more for speed) appears to have an IQ around 50, and the rest are generally on par with regular humans. The ones who've been around for centuries might be smarter than any of us. I guess there's something about the bond that makes them awfully docile in spite of their brain power; even the most neglected poor soul cares deeply about his captain.
Temeraire stands out among dragons even more than Laurence stands out among aviators. A Chinese breed, he may be the only one of his kind for thousands of miles. This doesn't really cause trouble between him and his peers, but it does leave him and everyone else with big questions. How large will he grow? What will be the extent of his abilities? Laurence takes increasing pride in him as the answers emerge.
One thing becomes clear soon enough: Temeraire's intellectual faculties are above average. He had heard English for mere weeks before speaking it perfectly upon hatching, and he can easily remember French months later. He has Laurence read him brainy nonfiction such as advanced math, understanding it better than his captain. (He'd do his own reading except that it's hard to turn pages with big talons.) Perhaps because of this, he expresses a relatively independent mind, sometimes unnerving Laurence with his casual attitude toward duty. But Temeraire recognizes that he still has a lot to learn.
There aren't a whole lot of violent scenes; in that way, this is a more feminine story. Nevertheless, what battles we do get are interesting to picture. For starters, a typical fighter dragon carries dozens of people at once; size varies by breed, but they all dwarf elephants. The riders attach to a harness with carabiners, moving them around nimbly as needed; they complement the dragon's assaults by firing guns and throwing bombs, making it not so different from the navy after all. (By now you may have noticed me using more semicolons than usual; that's because Novik digs them even more than I do.)
This is not one of those fantasies that gets into gratuitously disgusting details of dragon habits. At least, you won't read about fewmets or general stenches. The worst we get is them craving a wash after eating livestock. (Most handlers consider it too optional to go to the trouble; to their consternation, Laurence sets a generous example.) OK, a few breeds spit acid, but only in battle.
Not for the first time, I found myself wishing I could be there with a dragon. So dangerous and yet so endearing. Maybe sometime soon, I'll compile a list of my favorite dragons from across fiction. Ranking them won't be easy.
I would not have guessed that this was Novik's first novel. Sure, it doesn't offer much of any innovation, but it works so masterfully that I didn't care about that. I have put the next book in the Temeraire series, Throne of Jade, on my wishlist, aware that it probably won't arrive this Christmas.
In the meantime, I'm starting on Neil Gaiman's Norse Mythology. Yes, I realize that American Gods plays fast and loose with it, but I want to see how he does in presenting what little we have of the original legends.
At the start, Captain Laurence's English crew captures a French vessel that turns out to be shipping a dragon egg. Their joy at this victory gives way to mixed feelings when they learn that the egg will hatch well before they reach a shore; they weren't prepared to take care of a fast-growing hatchling. Above all, they worry about who if anyone will form a nearly unbreakable bond and have little choice but to leave the navy for the aviation corps. It turns out to be Laurence himself, who dubs the dragon "Temeraire" after the 1749 warship. At first he pines for the plans he had for his own life, but by the time an opportunity comes to return to the navy, he and Temeraire have grown too fond of each other.
A running theme is Laurence sticking out like a sore thumb among the aviators. They don't immediately warm up to him, since they've trained for dragon handling since childhood and he's thrust into a captaincy from square one. Besides, the different branches of the armed forces think little of one another, which I suspect is true in every nation and era.
Most of the differences make the corps look more modern than the contemporary navy, requiring a bit of a paradigm shift on Laurence's part. Aviators aren't as neat, rigid, or ceremonious as naval officers. They don't duel over a slight, if only because they're harder to replace. Some of them are women, as dragons can be picky. (I had been surprised at the initial near-absence of women in a book by one; even Temeraire is male.) And since the job doesn't lend itself to many home visits, very few are married -- tho they're strongly encouraged to have kids so that their longer-lived dragons can continue with a similar bond. It looks likely that Laurence, who lost a fiancee when he joined the corps, will take up with a female captain in a later volume.
Unlike in several other series I know where dragons bond with humans, there's no evidence of telepathy; instead, the dragons learn language through the eggshell and can say complete sentences shortly after hatching. (A supplement near the back of the book indicates that this knack usually fades quickly with age.) Even given that they spend much longer in the eggs than we spend in wombs, you'd think they'd need visual cues to piece everything together. Still, I gave the premise a pass for the sake of moving things along.
This capacity for speech makes the interspecies interactions a bit interesting. Dragons are widely regarded as beasts, yet the least intelligent specimen we encounter (bred more for speed) appears to have an IQ around 50, and the rest are generally on par with regular humans. The ones who've been around for centuries might be smarter than any of us. I guess there's something about the bond that makes them awfully docile in spite of their brain power; even the most neglected poor soul cares deeply about his captain.
Temeraire stands out among dragons even more than Laurence stands out among aviators. A Chinese breed, he may be the only one of his kind for thousands of miles. This doesn't really cause trouble between him and his peers, but it does leave him and everyone else with big questions. How large will he grow? What will be the extent of his abilities? Laurence takes increasing pride in him as the answers emerge.
One thing becomes clear soon enough: Temeraire's intellectual faculties are above average. He had heard English for mere weeks before speaking it perfectly upon hatching, and he can easily remember French months later. He has Laurence read him brainy nonfiction such as advanced math, understanding it better than his captain. (He'd do his own reading except that it's hard to turn pages with big talons.) Perhaps because of this, he expresses a relatively independent mind, sometimes unnerving Laurence with his casual attitude toward duty. But Temeraire recognizes that he still has a lot to learn.
There aren't a whole lot of violent scenes; in that way, this is a more feminine story. Nevertheless, what battles we do get are interesting to picture. For starters, a typical fighter dragon carries dozens of people at once; size varies by breed, but they all dwarf elephants. The riders attach to a harness with carabiners, moving them around nimbly as needed; they complement the dragon's assaults by firing guns and throwing bombs, making it not so different from the navy after all. (By now you may have noticed me using more semicolons than usual; that's because Novik digs them even more than I do.)
This is not one of those fantasies that gets into gratuitously disgusting details of dragon habits. At least, you won't read about fewmets or general stenches. The worst we get is them craving a wash after eating livestock. (Most handlers consider it too optional to go to the trouble; to their consternation, Laurence sets a generous example.) OK, a few breeds spit acid, but only in battle.
Not for the first time, I found myself wishing I could be there with a dragon. So dangerous and yet so endearing. Maybe sometime soon, I'll compile a list of my favorite dragons from across fiction. Ranking them won't be easy.
I would not have guessed that this was Novik's first novel. Sure, it doesn't offer much of any innovation, but it works so masterfully that I didn't care about that. I have put the next book in the Temeraire series, Throne of Jade, on my wishlist, aware that it probably won't arrive this Christmas.
In the meantime, I'm starting on Neil Gaiman's Norse Mythology. Yes, I realize that American Gods plays fast and loose with it, but I want to see how he does in presenting what little we have of the original legends.