Wednesday, 14 February 2024 08:25 pm
Book Review: The Goblin Emperor
No, this first entry in a series has nothing to do with the Goblin King from Labyrinth. It's set in a world where the only mentioned sapient races are goblins and elves. We get the occasional spell, especially for communication with the dead, along with a few steampunk trappings, yet the important aspects of the story could easily have been told with humans and real past tech. As far as I can tell, Sarah Monette (under pen name Katherine Addison for some reason) chose the genre just to avoid biases associated with history and geography.
The title character, Maia, is actually half-elven, but in an empire long ruled by elves, he might as well be all goblin. Born of a loveless political marriage, he was relegated (read: exiled) from birth with his mother to a distant manor, never laying eyes on his father until his mother died of illness when he was eight. For the next ten years, he was left in the charge of a physically abusive cousin, Setheris. That changes at the beginning of Chapter 1 with news that everyone ahead of Maia in line for the throne just died in an airship crash.
You may expect the newly crowned Edrehasivar VII, who still thinks of himself as Maia, to be greatly relieved at this latest change of fortune. It's not like he'll shed tears for those who wouldn't have done the same for him. But apart from a slight satisfaction in realizing that Setheris will never hit him again, he's too overwhelmed to enjoy it. For the months over which the book takes place, he gets no privacy, little leisure or freedom, and frequent reminders that Setheris had taught him only the rudiments of what he'd need. (I now realize that royalty must especially suck for introverts.) He gets engaged to a near-stranger. Nearly everyone tries to show him due respect, but he doesn't take long to tell who finds him disappointing or worse, sometimes out of racism. Even the friendlier folk can hardly be called friends, as they tend to be motivated by either duty or a desire to curry favor with the emperor. Being addressed as "Serenity" or "Your Serenity" all the time carries an irony.
And that's before Maia learns (as the back cover indicates) that the ship crash was an assassination by sabotage. His delegates take quite a while to determine who did it and why. Will those responsible come after him next, or do they find him a sufficient improvement? The latter option might just bother him more.
Never before have I felt so sorry for a reigning monarch. Part of the problem for him is his refusal to let power go to his head. A bit more assertion and he could probably be having his way all the time, rules be darned. When he does buck tradition, it's usually for a virtuous purpose, as by mourning the deaths of commoners. I'd say his biggest fear is of becoming like his father, whom he regarded as a tyrant, tho people who knew him paint a more nuanced picture.
In fact, if I had to live under an emperor, I could hardly ask for better than Maia. What he lacks in age and experience, he generally makes up for in sensing whom to trust. His excellent secretary certainly helps. One Wikipedia-cited critic considers Maia too perfect, but I maintain he has a credible amount of shortcomings, including moral ones. He just recognizes them more often than a bigger sinner would.
Despite an intimate focus on Maia throughout, the book has enough cited characters and places to merit a list, which my edition puts up front rather than at the back like most fantasies. I'm afraid it's tricky to navigate, because you have to remember first and last names, which run long on average. The list doesn't include the many made-up words that aren't proper nouns; I had to look some up online and still didn't find all of them. The pronunciation guide wasn't as extensive as I'd like either.
One more complaint about the language: Characters speak in Elizabethan English or close to it. Good thing I remembered that "an" used to mean "if." Sure, we don't get a whole lot of "thou" talk in a noble court, but Maia thinks to himself that way and sometimes slips into informality, whether out of old habit or to seem more approachable. Use of the Royal We, especially by nonroyals, can get confusing. Sometimes the narration indicates whether "we" refers to more than one, but how could the listeners have known right away?
Nevertheless, I like TGE enough to put a sequel and a spinoff on my wish list. As bored as Maia may have been, I felt that I could keep reading about him indefinitely. Perhaps fantasy is a suitable genre for him after all, seeing as I got immersed in a vicarious experience unlike any I've had.
My next read is Isaac Asimov's Second Foundation. It's been a while since I last finished a trilogy.
The title character, Maia, is actually half-elven, but in an empire long ruled by elves, he might as well be all goblin. Born of a loveless political marriage, he was relegated (read: exiled) from birth with his mother to a distant manor, never laying eyes on his father until his mother died of illness when he was eight. For the next ten years, he was left in the charge of a physically abusive cousin, Setheris. That changes at the beginning of Chapter 1 with news that everyone ahead of Maia in line for the throne just died in an airship crash.
You may expect the newly crowned Edrehasivar VII, who still thinks of himself as Maia, to be greatly relieved at this latest change of fortune. It's not like he'll shed tears for those who wouldn't have done the same for him. But apart from a slight satisfaction in realizing that Setheris will never hit him again, he's too overwhelmed to enjoy it. For the months over which the book takes place, he gets no privacy, little leisure or freedom, and frequent reminders that Setheris had taught him only the rudiments of what he'd need. (I now realize that royalty must especially suck for introverts.) He gets engaged to a near-stranger. Nearly everyone tries to show him due respect, but he doesn't take long to tell who finds him disappointing or worse, sometimes out of racism. Even the friendlier folk can hardly be called friends, as they tend to be motivated by either duty or a desire to curry favor with the emperor. Being addressed as "Serenity" or "Your Serenity" all the time carries an irony.
And that's before Maia learns (as the back cover indicates) that the ship crash was an assassination by sabotage. His delegates take quite a while to determine who did it and why. Will those responsible come after him next, or do they find him a sufficient improvement? The latter option might just bother him more.
Never before have I felt so sorry for a reigning monarch. Part of the problem for him is his refusal to let power go to his head. A bit more assertion and he could probably be having his way all the time, rules be darned. When he does buck tradition, it's usually for a virtuous purpose, as by mourning the deaths of commoners. I'd say his biggest fear is of becoming like his father, whom he regarded as a tyrant, tho people who knew him paint a more nuanced picture.
In fact, if I had to live under an emperor, I could hardly ask for better than Maia. What he lacks in age and experience, he generally makes up for in sensing whom to trust. His excellent secretary certainly helps. One Wikipedia-cited critic considers Maia too perfect, but I maintain he has a credible amount of shortcomings, including moral ones. He just recognizes them more often than a bigger sinner would.
Despite an intimate focus on Maia throughout, the book has enough cited characters and places to merit a list, which my edition puts up front rather than at the back like most fantasies. I'm afraid it's tricky to navigate, because you have to remember first and last names, which run long on average. The list doesn't include the many made-up words that aren't proper nouns; I had to look some up online and still didn't find all of them. The pronunciation guide wasn't as extensive as I'd like either.
One more complaint about the language: Characters speak in Elizabethan English or close to it. Good thing I remembered that "an" used to mean "if." Sure, we don't get a whole lot of "thou" talk in a noble court, but Maia thinks to himself that way and sometimes slips into informality, whether out of old habit or to seem more approachable. Use of the Royal We, especially by nonroyals, can get confusing. Sometimes the narration indicates whether "we" refers to more than one, but how could the listeners have known right away?
Nevertheless, I like TGE enough to put a sequel and a spinoff on my wish list. As bored as Maia may have been, I felt that I could keep reading about him indefinitely. Perhaps fantasy is a suitable genre for him after all, seeing as I got immersed in a vicarious experience unlike any I've had.
My next read is Isaac Asimov's Second Foundation. It's been a while since I last finished a trilogy.