Sunday, 2 February 2020 10:04 pm
Book Review: Uprooted
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deckardcanineWhen I had a bookstore gift certificate to spend, I picked this almost at random, without realizing that I had already put it on my wishlist. I guess the name of Naomi Novik called to me, and the cover promised a stronger female presence than in her first book.
The kingdom of Polnya is an alternate version of old Poland, differing chiefly via the presence of magic -- not least in the form of a hostile force known as the Wood (yeah, the title is partly literal), which could engulf the valley villages. A lone wizard, said to be the most powerful in Polnya, has been holding the Wood in check. Villagers appreciate this, but they don't exactly like the guy, whom they call only "the Dragon." He shuns them as much as possible, is rude when he doesn't, and...requires them to hand over a 17-year-old girl of his choosing to stay in his tower for a decade, after which he releases her and takes another. Being eternally youthful, he has taken ten already. What happens to them is not widely known for sure; they go home healthy and claim to have their virginity intact, but few listeners believe that, and the now-27-year-olds always head for high society in other lands before long. Could be a lot worse, but the eligible girls generally don't want to be picked.
Enter Agnieszka (ag-NYESH-kah, says Novik), who has no fear of getting picked, because she stands out only in her preternatural failures to keep her clothes clean and whole for a day. Besides, albeit much to her dismay, her best friend Kasia is everyone's bet. Of course, Agnieszka wouldn't be the first-person narrator of this story if she didn't get picked. Turns out the Dragon has an even higher priority than beauty and charisma: signs of aptitude for magic. She's not his slave so much as his involuntary apprentice.
My first dread regarding this story was that it would turn into Beauty and the Beast. After all, we have a girl captured by a cold man, neither one the least bit fond of the other at the beginning. Well, I was half right. They do develop mutual passion, but to call it love is a stretch; they remain almost constantly annoyed, particularly the Dragon, and rarely spend more time around each other than necessary. A couple scenes look fit for a romance novel, with gratuitous erotic details and a strangely mixed emotional context. Were I the editor, I would have cut those, leaving the rest of the story more family-friendly, in keeping with its folkloric inspiration.
Still, I did gain respect for the Dragon, who never uses or threatens violence against Agnieszka except when he briefly mistakes her for a spy. He actually has an honorable reason for "uprooting" the girls, tho there seems no compelling reason to limit his companions to young ladies. One recurring observation is how wizards in their triple digits grow rather detached from non-wizards; maybe the Dragon chooses the most shallow appealing traits because the girls are as fleeting as flowers to him. But Agnieszka is liable to live long too, if her recklessness doesn't outweigh her dumb luck. She can even do some magic better than the Dragon can. You'd think his age would bring the patience not to insult her so much (it hurts that his pessimism is usually correct), but I guess he never had to deal with anyone like her before.
Another way the book isn't what I feared it would be: Agnieszka finds a way out of the tower before long, and while she doesn't stay out after that, the Dragon never tries to make her escapes harder. Indeed, the scope does not remain small. Other people need the Dragon's services elsewhere, and sometimes he can't be where needed or can't do the job alone. In Act 2, Agnieszka learns more than she ever wanted to know about the urban nobility. She can hardly relate to their brand of sin; to her eyes, they're practically monsters. I started to worry what would happen after her ten-year term: Surely she wouldn't opt for the same route as her predecessors. Without saying too much, it turns out the finale's only about a year after the beginning, and she clearly has a different future in store.
The nobles' nastiness pales next to that of the true antagonist, the Wood. It's no mere giant beast, hunting for food or to defend territory; it existed for a millennium without nourishment and now aims to spread forth and destroy or assimilate everyone, especially royals and wizards. Between power and cunning manipulation, it appears forever invincible, as if the best the heroes could hope to do is decelerate its progress. Thanks to its machinations, the action takes on epic proportions with a body count in the hundreds if not thousands, limiting the capacity for a happy ending.
The Wood's pervasive sylvan motif, while impressively apt and creepy, gave me the initial impression of an anti-environmentalist message. Fortunately, not all wooded areas are "corrupted." Agnieszka spent much of her childhood exploring the safer forest, evidently giving her an advantage in dealing with magic that could help counter the Wood.
At times, the novel feels thematically, um, uprooted, like it runs from one philosophical focus to another. Ultimately, I decided that that's fine. It reflects the messiness of life, really.
If I must choose a favorite aspect of Uprooted, it's the way Agnieszka describes the sensations of magic. You can't make complete sense of them, but they're gorgeously synesthetic, as would inevitably be lost in a screen adaptation. As challenging as the practice is, she understands how it became the Dragon's principal interest. No doubt it'd be mine too if I lived in their world.
Someday I'll read more from Novik, most likely continuing the Temeraire series, whose last volume is excerpted in this volume (I skipped that part to avoid spoilers). In the meantime, I'm starting Kenneth Oppel's Silverwing.
The kingdom of Polnya is an alternate version of old Poland, differing chiefly via the presence of magic -- not least in the form of a hostile force known as the Wood (yeah, the title is partly literal), which could engulf the valley villages. A lone wizard, said to be the most powerful in Polnya, has been holding the Wood in check. Villagers appreciate this, but they don't exactly like the guy, whom they call only "the Dragon." He shuns them as much as possible, is rude when he doesn't, and...requires them to hand over a 17-year-old girl of his choosing to stay in his tower for a decade, after which he releases her and takes another. Being eternally youthful, he has taken ten already. What happens to them is not widely known for sure; they go home healthy and claim to have their virginity intact, but few listeners believe that, and the now-27-year-olds always head for high society in other lands before long. Could be a lot worse, but the eligible girls generally don't want to be picked.
Enter Agnieszka (ag-NYESH-kah, says Novik), who has no fear of getting picked, because she stands out only in her preternatural failures to keep her clothes clean and whole for a day. Besides, albeit much to her dismay, her best friend Kasia is everyone's bet. Of course, Agnieszka wouldn't be the first-person narrator of this story if she didn't get picked. Turns out the Dragon has an even higher priority than beauty and charisma: signs of aptitude for magic. She's not his slave so much as his involuntary apprentice.
My first dread regarding this story was that it would turn into Beauty and the Beast. After all, we have a girl captured by a cold man, neither one the least bit fond of the other at the beginning. Well, I was half right. They do develop mutual passion, but to call it love is a stretch; they remain almost constantly annoyed, particularly the Dragon, and rarely spend more time around each other than necessary. A couple scenes look fit for a romance novel, with gratuitous erotic details and a strangely mixed emotional context. Were I the editor, I would have cut those, leaving the rest of the story more family-friendly, in keeping with its folkloric inspiration.
Still, I did gain respect for the Dragon, who never uses or threatens violence against Agnieszka except when he briefly mistakes her for a spy. He actually has an honorable reason for "uprooting" the girls, tho there seems no compelling reason to limit his companions to young ladies. One recurring observation is how wizards in their triple digits grow rather detached from non-wizards; maybe the Dragon chooses the most shallow appealing traits because the girls are as fleeting as flowers to him. But Agnieszka is liable to live long too, if her recklessness doesn't outweigh her dumb luck. She can even do some magic better than the Dragon can. You'd think his age would bring the patience not to insult her so much (it hurts that his pessimism is usually correct), but I guess he never had to deal with anyone like her before.
Another way the book isn't what I feared it would be: Agnieszka finds a way out of the tower before long, and while she doesn't stay out after that, the Dragon never tries to make her escapes harder. Indeed, the scope does not remain small. Other people need the Dragon's services elsewhere, and sometimes he can't be where needed or can't do the job alone. In Act 2, Agnieszka learns more than she ever wanted to know about the urban nobility. She can hardly relate to their brand of sin; to her eyes, they're practically monsters. I started to worry what would happen after her ten-year term: Surely she wouldn't opt for the same route as her predecessors. Without saying too much, it turns out the finale's only about a year after the beginning, and she clearly has a different future in store.
The nobles' nastiness pales next to that of the true antagonist, the Wood. It's no mere giant beast, hunting for food or to defend territory; it existed for a millennium without nourishment and now aims to spread forth and destroy or assimilate everyone, especially royals and wizards. Between power and cunning manipulation, it appears forever invincible, as if the best the heroes could hope to do is decelerate its progress. Thanks to its machinations, the action takes on epic proportions with a body count in the hundreds if not thousands, limiting the capacity for a happy ending.
The Wood's pervasive sylvan motif, while impressively apt and creepy, gave me the initial impression of an anti-environmentalist message. Fortunately, not all wooded areas are "corrupted." Agnieszka spent much of her childhood exploring the safer forest, evidently giving her an advantage in dealing with magic that could help counter the Wood.
At times, the novel feels thematically, um, uprooted, like it runs from one philosophical focus to another. Ultimately, I decided that that's fine. It reflects the messiness of life, really.
If I must choose a favorite aspect of Uprooted, it's the way Agnieszka describes the sensations of magic. You can't make complete sense of them, but they're gorgeously synesthetic, as would inevitably be lost in a screen adaptation. As challenging as the practice is, she understands how it became the Dragon's principal interest. No doubt it'd be mine too if I lived in their world.
Someday I'll read more from Novik, most likely continuing the Temeraire series, whose last volume is excerpted in this volume (I skipped that part to avoid spoilers). In the meantime, I'm starting Kenneth Oppel's Silverwing.
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This turn of phrase is most apt. The Dragon assumed who would be bringing Kasia back and it was, I think, an “oh shit” moment for him when he realized Anieszka was magical. For me one of the things that felt weird about it was the way gender and magic were linked.
no subject