Strength in Ambiguity

A fast-paced fantasy set in a world inspired by Indigenous American cultures, Black Sun is Rebecca

(Image via Goodreads)

Roanhorse’s strongest work to date.

Weaving a story told through multiple points of view, Roanhorse imbues each of her protagonists with motivations informed by power imbalances that will likely resonate with readers. While each main character belongs to a differing faction, they all navigate factions that are in conflict and struggle with roles ascribed by their ethnicities.

Most members of our book club appreciated the ambiguity of character archetypes and motivations. Without a clear hero or villain, readers were given space for interpretation that provided a compelling realism. In particular, it was interesting to see Serapio — a murderous cultist bent on revenge — cast in a heroic role. However, this portrayal also left some members of our book club uneasy.

Black Sun is a novel in conversation with history — both real and imagined. The constructed history within the narrative is complex and multifaceted, depicting the legacy of colonialism through the eyes of both the vulnerable and the victors. The intergenerational trauma of colonialism is an important theme that serves as a central point of motivation. Through carefully constructed plot arcs, the reader learns about the emotional commitment to both uphold and tear down the legacy of colonialism. For example, the people historically wronged by colonialism are rightfully aggrieved and we understand their anger. However, the fact that their quest for revenge pushes them to reproduce cycles of hate and commit acts as heinous as those committed against them is not ignored or downplayed.

This realism is carried through in the political intrigue of the story. There are great houses struggling to gain power over their peers and a church that is both mediating this conflict and also working to gain power for itself. Often the power of religious institutions is left unexamined in fantasy, as the nobility fight amongst themselves and heroic characters cut through it all to find a resolution. Early on, it seems like Narampa, the head priestess born of a lower order, is that chosen, golden hero. Her much more complicated story arc is thoughtfully written to good effect, as she must trust in a system of power and people who are deeply threatened by her attempts for reform.

One of Roanhorse's great strengths
as a writer is her nuanced depiction
of hierarchical relationships in a society.
(Photo by Olav Rokne) 

It is also very interesting how uncomfortable most of the characters are with how their ethnicity/culture is perceived. For the most part, they don't fit with the assumptions people have about them.

Like many modern fantasy novels, trying to understand some of the labels and terminology can be a struggle, and the first chapters take a bit of work to get through (with the exception of the prologue, which was exceptionally strong). But after this initial hurdle, the worldbuilding fell away as it should, serving to ground an engaging and well-told story.

There was some disagreement about the way the story ended. At least one book club member felt that the finale was one of the strongest she had read in this genre, with the protagonist’s problem clearly resolved and relatively minor loose ends left to the readers’ imagination. Others felt that the ending was perhaps too vague and relied too heavily on the need for a sequel. Of course, if the strength of the first installment in this series is any indication, reading the sequel will be no chore.

Ruin Of Kings

Ambitious and compelling, Jenn Lyons’ debut novel Ruin of Kings plays with modes of narration and

Image via Amazon.com

structure in ways that enrich what might otherwise have been a standard fantasy adventure. The ambition and quality of the book makes a compelling case that Jenn Lyons should be on the short list for the Astounding Award for Best New Writer.

Ruin of Kings introduces readers to Kihrin, a lower-class child from Quur’s slums who is raised up to the highest echelons of a medievalist fantasy kingdom.

In Quur, noble families have lost the right to rule but retain the direct power they lost by becoming merchant princes, each noble family owning the rights to some sector of the economy. The emperor — an immortal mage who fights demons — has also lost the right to direct authority. It is in fact a council that does the day-to-day business of government.

Anyone can be voted into the ruling council, but councilors almost always are the unacknowledged offspring of the merchant families (another way the merchant families skirt the law about not ruling). All of this information comes out naturally and shapes motivations and behaviours throughout the story.

Of particular interest is how Lyons frames the narrative through Kihrin’s recollections first to his jailer, and then to a magic rock that records his words. Because of this framing, the story is told in alternating chapters that flip back and forth between past-tense third person, and present-tense first person.

The fact that these two narrating voices — younger Kihrin and older Kihrin — are in different tenses serves to highlight the mutability of selfhood. He is not the same person he once was, and he therefore thinks about himself differently.

Those of us who had read the dust jacket felt that this marketing copy had spoiled major revelations

We look forward to reading further
works from Jenn Lyons.
(Image via Twitter)  

of how these two time frames relate to each other, and this did unfortunately take away from the enjoyment of puzzling it out.

Despite having a whole new world to describe, at no point does the world building feel extraneous to the plot. Instead, the mechanisms of the political structure do a lot to move the plot forward while introducing a strange yet believable political structure.

A well-developed and unique portrayal of religion is integral to the story — gods are not omnipotent or omniscient and they are not limited to the odd deus ex machina. The gods are immersed in the story as characters, powerful and flawed with their own motivations.

Ruin of Kings is at times confusing. Especially when starting off the book, readers may be perplexed by the switching narrative voices and the jumping back and forth to different points in the story. Several members of the book club failed to finish the novel, giving up in the first 100 pages.

Although it is the first in a five-part series, Ruin of Kings stands on its own. In fact, given its length, and the depth to which Lyons explores the setting, we wondered whether there was any need for subsequent volumes.

We’d be quite keen to discover how Lyons’ approaches some other settings, and what else she might imagine. But with her schedule filled with writing 2,500 more pages set in Quur, it unfortunately seems unlikely we’ll get to see this for several years.

Excessive marketing hype and exuberant comparisons to classics of the genre gave us some trepidation when approaching The Ruin Of Kings. It is nonetheless an intriguing book that has ended up on some of our Hugo nominating ballots, and earned Lyons a spot on all of our Astounding Award nominating ballots.