“She always wondered why there were no screams, no tears, no despair sending her into thrashing hysterics… all she actually did was sit and stare at the burnt stranger in the mirror. Most of her hair was gone, the scalp a mottled relief of red and pink flesh. The flames had caught the upper side of her face, the scars ascending from the bridge of her nose… like an ill-fitting mask worn to scare children on the warding’s night.” (Tower Lord by Anthony Ryan)
I fear that, lately, I’ve been enjoying analyzing, criticizing, and writing about books more than I actually enjoy reading them. I confess that I mostly continued on to this book after Blood Song to see how Ryan handled the tricky mid-trilogy novel with all its associated pitfalls (adding too many characters, getting too broad, not connecting to the over-arching plot, etc). I enjoyed seeing Ryan deftly overcome these challenges slightly more than I actually enjoyed the enumeration of battles and death.
I also have to confess that, as much as the ending annoyed my feminist self, it also delighted me because it provided something to write about. Until this book, Ryan had hitherto upheld the basic principles of epic fantasy, which decree that, if females are included in the main story line at all, they must be perfectly beautiful and irrationally moody. Ryan not only introduced three strong (only slightly moody) women here, but also deformed one of them with horrible burns to her face. This undermining of tradition brought a humanity to that character, and to the whole cast, that isn’t frequently seen in this genre. Yet, throughout the whole book, my inner critic kept nagging: how long can he keep this up? In a world with magical healers, how long can Ryan allow a once-beautiful woman to remain scarred and be at peace with herself? Unfortunately, the answer was: only a few hundred pages.
Though I will be reading the concluding book to the Raven’s Shadow trilogy promptly on July 7th when it is released, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to read an epic fantasy where the author could sustain a fully realized, albeit scarred, female lead.