Peter C. Myers and I are writing a fantasy novel. Because I’m a firm believer in knowing the history and present before you can become future, I’m reading a lot of fantasy these days. My friend Chris Krycho handed me Brandon Sanderson’s Warbreaker, and I’m quite grateful that he did.
One of my main displeasures with high fantasy is that it’s all so serious (the Joker has a thing or two to say about this). It doesn’t have any heart; it’s political, daring, adventurous and sterile. Also, I will not read a book that has a dragon on the cover. If you want to recommend one to me (cause “it’s so gooooood!“), rip the cover off and hand it to me. Thanks.
Warbreaker dispenses with this nonsense by having one of the four main characters be skeptical of the entire conceit of the book. Lightsong the Bold, a “god” who doesn’t believe he’s a god, thinks that everything in his world (and thus, the whole book) is patently ridiculous. His wicked humor brings a breath of fresh air to what could have been just another political intrigue fantasy novel.
Even without Lightsong, Sanderson probably would have avoided sterility by his deft characterization. I feel like the words “deft” and “characterization” go together, so I did that for you. Here’s what I mean: I like the people I’m supposed to like and hate the people I’m supposed to hate. And when characters move from one camp to the other, I don’t think twice about turning hate into love and love into hate. I mean, the character wasn’t telling the truth! Why should I like him anymore?!
The storyline does get a bit confusing toward the end, as he pulls off a mega twist. It’s the sort of twist that you didn’t see coming, but only because it was barely referenced throughout the book. I didn’t feel cheated, but I also had to reread pages several times to figure out where allegiances lay. It took away from the page-turning suspense to have to keep page-turning backwards.
As my favorite things in fiction are characters and suspense, I loved Warbreaker. Sanderson delivers them in spades. Fans of world creation should be pleased as well; the world is so fully developed that I see it nigh on impossible that Sanderson let it go (and he does leave the tiniest sliver of hope for a sequel on the last page). It’s a fascinating, clever and uniquely invented world; one that I won’t ruin by attempting to explain.
It’s worth the time, and as it’s only one book, it’s definitely not as big a time outlay as most fantasy books/series. Get it. Read it. Love it.
