Wednesday 20 December 2017

Assassin's Fate

It feels like a long time since I was in Huddersfield bus station, perusing a particular new book. It was my 17th birthday. I was pretty hyped up after picking up the second of Robin Hobb's Farseer Trilogy. My bus companions, no doubt, were far from thrilled at having to listen to me rattle on about this book that would be forgotten about by the time I got back to college on Monday morning. On the other hand, they were probably delighted to not be hearing about Star Wars.

Royal Assassin was the second of the first trilogy in Hobb's Realm of the Elderlings, a series of linked series. I'd enjoyed the first, as much as a 16-year-old could. I'd enjoyed the easy prose, the languid pace and the engaging characters. Looking back, I suspect there were many elements that I'd simply skimmed over. The first one certainly hadn't blown my mind like it has in later years. Despite this, I'd decided to blow my weekly allowance on the second volume. It was, perhaps, the best entertainment purchase I've ever made. The memory of having bought it sticks with me because it's a book that's influenced me and stuck with me through multiple education establishments, jobs, you name it.

Hobb's books are personal, particularly the three trilogies focusing on FitzChivalry Farseer. It feels, after a dozen years and nine books, like I know Fitz. It feels like I've watched him grow from a boy to a man. I've been through each of his experiences with him. I've celebrated every triumph and commiserated with every disaster. There have been times when I've wanted to get hold of him and shake him as he made yet another mistake - all in service to the Farseer throne. As characters go, it's hard to think of any who surpass him for pure humanity. Fitz is an assassin and a father. A loyal servant and an independent thinker. A man of great passions who at times is reduced to little more than a vassal. It's this humanity that makes Fitz so memorable and so relatable. For his sake, I wanted the final book featuring him (I assume, considering the title) to do him justice.

It does.

Assassin's Fate is a colossal book. It might not be the best of the Realm of the Elderlings books (that accolade surely goes to Assassin's Quest), but it does a wonderful job of concluding Fitz's part in the epic saga. Never has Fitz been more human, more flawed and more perfect. He continues to frustrate throughout, but at last there is the sense that this is Fitz the man - not Fitz the assassin. Cut loose to deal death to the Whites of Clerres, who have snatched his daughter, Bee, he assumes the mantle of vengeful father and, as is to be expected by now from Hobb, fills the role brilliantly. He makes bad decisions - some many times over. He fails to realise how much he is loved by those around him. He relies on himself too much and is disdainful of those around him. Traits built over eight previous volumes reach their peak and make him the pinnacle of all fantasy characters.

Around him there is a huge cast of beautifully drawn characters. Like Fitz, they're uniquely human - or wolf, or dragon. With Assassin's Fate quite possibly acting as the final volume in a sixteen-book series, many old faces make appearances. Whether they were wilful, arrogant, compliant, frustrating, haughty, greedy or otherwise before, so they are now. Many have aged - all appropriately. Brashen Trell is just one old face who plays a significant role who has clearly mellowed with the years and responsibility of captaining the liveship Paragon with his wife, Althea, who remains stubborn and single-minded. He is instantly recognisable, not just because of his name, but because of his actions.

Chief amongst the supporting cast is the Fool - who, as ever, is unpredictable. He provides the perfect counterpoint to Fitz, just as he always has. Colourful, flamboyant and chaotic, even while he has his plans, he - or she, as we still don't know for sure - introduces chaos to proceedings as he strives, alongside Fitz, to reach Bee. The relationship between Fitz and the Fool is strained from the off, and there's a lingering sadness to their interactions. Fitz's lack of trust in his long-time companion is almost painful as Hobb brings it to life brilliantly.

In true Hobb style, the final volume of the trilogy starts slowly. There are answers to long-standing questions provided, but the pace is glacial. The sense of finality gradually creeps into the book as the protagonists journey to their destination where the final showdown (if that's quite the word for a Hobb conclusion) takes place. This is Hobb's greatest strength: her ability to sustain interest while building character, providing low-level answers and never resorting to cheap cliffhangers. The humanity of the entire series has been its greatest strength and should be its greatest legacy. Great storytelling doesn't need narrative tricks and helpful deus ex machina that satisfy the rule of cool. What it needs is heart and soul. Hobb's plotting is natural and paced beautifully. A journey that many would skip over in a paragraph can take her 200 pages and more whilst sustaining interest because you're invested.

Assassin's Fate provides a wonderful conclusion to the entire series. It's not to say it has all the answers we've been craving - there are certainly still some questions that need to be resolved - but it brings a natural conclusion to a cycle of fantasy storytelling that will live long into the future.

Thursday 26 October 2017

The Norman Conquest

When I started writing this blog, I had one thing in mind. I finished it quite differently - a stream of consciousness on the Norman Conquest is perhaps not the easiest read, especially as it hardly touches on the events of September and October 1066 themselves, but I feel that there is an important point to be made about those momentous events and the world they took place in. Nationalism, particularly that which promotes a mythic monocultural history, has no place in reality.

We English are a nation based upon plurality. If we follow the strictest possible definition of Englishness, we should all be descended from one Danish tribe from the 5th Century AD - and therefore not be English at all. Instead - and much to the annoyance of the Daily Mail - we're a nation based upon a rich melange of ethnic and cultural origins. A simple look at someone's name should give the game away straight away. I doubt you'll see someone with a truly English name walking down the street. My mate Æthelstan is perhaps the exception. Even 'English' names like Edmund and Edward are tempered by the fact that a Plantagenet king (Henry III) is responsible for their survival.

Take my own name. My forename is Greek. My middle name is French. Yet both names masquerade as culturally English. Only my surname can be regarded as English - from Wakefield, no less - and yet even that is a construction of the post-Norman world. Wilson: a name first recorded in 1324.

English history is one of invasion and settlement. The first modern human settlers in Britain found their feet some 40,000 years ago. After a couple of aborted attempts, the Romans arrived just after the birth of Christ (unlike Julius Caesar's famous words on the conquest of Gaul, the words of the Emperor Claudius are unrecorded. However, it is unlikely that he saw Colchester and declared, 'The only way is Essex'). Almost as soon as they departed Danish and Germanic tribes rushed in to fill the gap, paving the way for the modern English identity. Barely three centuries later, the Vikings arrived, trashed Lindisfarne a few times, decided they liked it then made a serious invasion attempt, resulting in the Danelaw in the north. Thus did a further two centuries pass, with Viking and Anglo-Saxon rulers competing for English hegemony.

In the mean time, Vikings had been having a good time across the continent. Some had gone east - the Rus' - and laid the foundations of one of the great nations. Others had hung around in Scandinavia, continuing to cause problems for coastal dwellers across northern Europe. Still others had chosen to settle in northern France. The Norse men - who would gradually become known as Normans - gave their name to their French lands. Normandy remains one of the most historically significant places in Europe, at least to Englishmen. Battlefields trips almost inevitably wind up either at Dunkirk or the D-Day beaches. Normandy's proximity to Kent meant that a close relationship formed fairly quickly between England and Normandy - particularly as the Normans had a habit of irritating the King of France.

To write this is to simplify hundreds of years of history into a few flippant sentences. Yet a sense of the interconnectedness of the medieval world can still be gleaned from the fact that one people had a hand in creating states in both western and eastern Europe, across thousands of miles. The supposedly indigenous peoples of another nation came from another landmass. The Anglo-Saxons who had ruled England as long ago as the 7th Century AD had connections with a far more advanced society - King Offa of Mercia was known to have trade links to the Silk Roads of the Middle East. English coins were minted with Arabic quotations in praise of a common God.

This all forms the preface to one of my personal favourite pieces of history: the Norman Conquest. It's easy to think that 951 years ago the main players were all provincial individuals, bound by geography to a small world that they personally inhabited, unaware of the wider world beyond their borders. William, Duke of Normandy, may have been the most powerful man in his part of northern Europe, but it's easy to fall into the trap assuming that he was only aware of a tiny percentage of the world. After all, the medieval times were a time of ignorance, weren't they?

In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. Whilst it's true that western and northern Europe were isolated backwaters, they were still acutely aware that they were part of a bigger world, and that they were connected to something larger than themselves. King Offa's involvement with Arabic kings demonstrates how far trade routes had reached and how far awareness of other people stretched. Less than 30 years after William defeated Harold at Hastings, Pope Innocent declared the First Crusade - unleashing a monster with consequences still felt today.

 The Battle of Hastings is the most pivotal event in English history for many people, but it's worth questioning the extent to which this was the case. Events after the initial invasion were certainly dramatic - the economic effects of the Harrying of the North were felt centuries down the line and perhaps even laid the foundations of the modern north/south divide, and the Domesday Book was the cornerstone of government for all medieval kings after William - but perhaps they weren't as far-reaching as suggested. After all, the administrating structure put in place by Alfred the Great wasn't tinkered with that much; England remained divided by wapentakes and hundreds, the county structure untouched until 1973. The introduction of the feudal system certainly helped establish Norman control, but it seems that there was already something similar in place. Castles sprouted across the countryside, and these were the most significant development, but would these have developed anyway?

This blog started in one direction, and ended up going somewhere quite different. There's so much that could be said about 1066, mostly about Tostig Godwinson and his idiocy costing his brother the throne. Much of it has been said before. Marc Morris's magnificent book The Norman Conquest is perhaps the best book for the beginner - not least because of Morris's accessible and often very funny treatment of the primary sources - but even in that the multi-cultural nature of the medieval world is apparent.