Jurjen
This is probably the best history book that I have read. Although this period of history interests me tremendously–and is something I have spent a lot of time on while in uni the last few years–the way in which Robert Caro was able to narrativise the history was done very well. The prose and sense of drama invested me hugely, on top of already being gripped by the substantive events in this time period.
Caro takes his time. He goes on tangents. And I think the book is better for it. Master of the Senate starts with a 100 page short history of the American Senate from its founding to the 1940s, and having that deeper understanding of the institution allows us to put things into greater context. Without knowing who the “Senate Four” from the turn of the century were, or just how ingrained seniority rule was, I would not have appreciated the extent to which Johnson was able to change the Senate rules so much in so little time. How he was able to make himself as Majority Leader, nearly as powerful as the US president by 1958, when before Johnson, the Majority Leader role was largely ceremonial with very little power, and not something anyone wanted to be.
My favourite chapter in the book, other than the last few on the 1957 civil rights act (which is the climax of the book, and what all of it builds up to [pretty great structuring I think. Really good scope]), was the one on Russell. Richard Brevard Russell Jr. was such a hugely influential figure within the senate. Arguably one of the most influential congressmen of the 20th century, and his name seems to largely be forgotten. The relationship he developed with Johnson was something I was well aware of because of a thesis I wrote in which I read/listened to dozens and dozens of Russell/Johnson white house tapes from when he was president, but seeing its origins, as well as Russell’s personal origins was just super interesting.
And man alive did I enjoy seeing someone finally shut Russell the fuck up about “states rights, let the south deal with its very complicated racial issues on its own pace, we must not tip the scales”. The man who always maintained his dignity, and pride. Who always felt above everyone else. Richard Russell, who everyone in the senate respected for his intelligence and decorum. He as a person was finally brought as low as the cause to which he dedicated his entire political career, that of white supremacy, and defending the domination of the Southern Black man by the Southern White man. A long passage, but I have never felt as much catharsis from reading a history book as I did from this (huge testament to Caro for how he wrote it):
“Russell's face was a very deep red now. "I am delighted to hear the Senator say that progress is being made," he said. Then he said, "The system which the senator from Michigan wants to impose on Georgia brought about race riots in Michigan.... If the Senator from Michigan would simply not seek to invade our state to fasten the race riot- generating system upon us, we would appreciate it. Let him keep it in Michigan." All over the Chamber, on both sides of the aisle, senators were on their feet shouting for the floor. At first Russell refused to yield it, but one of the senators was Pat McNamara, also of Michigan. "Yes: I yield to the Senator from Michigan,' Russell said at last. "I mentioned his state." McNamara said Michigan needed no defense, that his state could handle its affairs without outside interference. "Then why does not the Senator let us do the same?" Russell asked. There was applause from the southern senators seated around him. But he had asked a question, and he was to receive an answer to it "McNamara,' Doris Fleeson wrote, "roared in the bull voice trained in a thousand union meeting halls: Because you've had ninety years and haven't done it!"
That’s exactly right, McNamara.
Johnson is a complicated figure. If anyone knows anything about Johnson, it’s that. As president he probably had some of the most impressive legislation passed, much of it attributable to his own skill and influence. At the same time, he was greatly responsible for some of the United States’ greatest failures, politically and morally, overseeing escalation in Vietnam, willfully turning the conflict into a full-blown war. What perhaps I did not know about Johnson was how personally loathsome he was as an individual man. He was unbelievably mean, especially to the people he worked for. And sure, “the Johnson treatment” was something that helped Johnson secure political goals which would help tens of millions of Americans. But I see no reason in the degree to which he terrorised his staff. It sure as shit made sure that a lot of very competent people didn’t want to work for him. He knew he had to control himself amongst fellow senators, but he just didn’t care to do that with anyone who was beneath him.
Worst of all, he was a terrible husband. There were two very public affairs which his wife simply had to put up with. Several more private affairs which he barely cared to keep secret from his wife. The single most horrible anecdote is one at a party hosted by the Johnson’s. Ladybird, although very smart and competent (which Johnson never really allowed her to use her competences for anything), was very shy, especially around important senators and other politicians. She hated public speaking and being the centre of attention. At such a party, Johnson would be sitting in his chair in one part of the house, Ladybird working in the kitchen in the other part of the house. Johnson would scream at the top of his lungs: ‘LADYBIRD, GET ME ANOTHER DAMN DRINK’. Husbands in the 1930s-50s were categorically worse human beings than husbands in the modern day, but even in this time period, Johnson’s treatment of his wife was seen as exceptional.
As Caro wrote:
“A researcher trying to get a picture of the Johnsons hears, over and over, the same phrase: ‘I don't know how she stood it.’”
I think I probably also overestimated the extent to which Johnson was personally invested in securing civil rights for Black Americans. Obviously everyone knows how he played a part in the 1960s civil rights legislation being passed, but when you read about his time as Majority Leader during the 50s, he doesn’t really inhibit the behaviour of a person who cared much about it on an individual level. It was about power to him. Before 1957, trying to pass civil rights legislation was not in the political interest of Lyndon. As soon as it was in his political interest, he became the Civil Rights movement’s biggest asset to the cause. Again, Caro puts it very well. For much of his life, compassion and ambition were at odds within the heart and mind of Lyndon B. Johnson. And not once, did the former beat out the latter.
Lyndon Johnson was a complete political chameleon, able to take up any political cause which would favour him. At the start of his career, he had his senate seat to thank to the Texan oil industry, so he made sure he would give them hundreds of millions of dollars in handouts despite the wishes of the American people. At the start of his career, Richard Russell was his mentor, and Johnson realised he was able to get a hold of power through Russell and his fellow Dixiecrats. That meant that Johnson would be all in with segregationism. But by the second half of the 50s Johnson sensed that the tides were turning, and that Civil Rights would be the thing that could finally launch him–despite being a Southerner–into the White House, and there you go. Months later, the first civil rights legislation since reconstruction in the 1880s was passed. That was Lyndon Johnson. But what important to understand there is that he really made himself believe in every cause he took up. He forced himself to feel the pain that a Black man in the South facing unimaginable racism would feel. Because as Sam Johnson told his son, to sell something, you have to believe it, and when Johnson set his mind on something, there would be no bigger believer in the world.
Does anyone know who Lyndon Johnson was? After reading a 1200 page history book on him, that might be a strange question to ask. The answer is, I don’t know. I’d like to believe that the author, Robert Caro knows Johnson, at least, as well as anyone could know him. But Johnson was so many different things at the same time, as well as different things at different times. He is one of the great complex figures of the 20th century.
How could I say I know Johnson, when not even his close friends knew Johnson? Near the end, Caro (almost gleefully) informs the reader that he was finally able to book an interview with a Georgia Senator from the 50s-80s, Herman Talmadge, a segregationist through and through. This interview was in 2000, right before Talmade died, about 45 years after the events of the book. Caro explains how close Talmadge and Johnson were, as Johnson was close to most Southerners.
Caro asks: “How did Lyndon Johnson view the relationship between whites and Negroes? “Master and servant,” Talmadge replied. Well, didn’t he have any sympathy for their situation? “None indicated,” Talmadge replied”
Talmadge said that during the 1950s, Johnson would assure the southerners that they could count on him to weaken a civil rights bill as much as possible, that he was on their side on civil rights, that he had to pretend that he wasn’t, to meet the Southern Caucus as infrequently as possible, but that he really was their ally.
“He would tell us, I’m one of you, but I can help you more if I don’t meet with you.” And, Talmadge said, the southerners believed him, believed that while changes in the civil rights laws were inevitable, Johnson would keep them as minor as possible, that “he was with us in his heart.”
“I believed him,” Talmadge said, but “I changed my opinion.” When? “When he was President,” Talmadge said. How did you feel then? “Disappointed,” Talmadge said. “Angry.” There was a long pause, and then he added, “Sick.” When asked, How did you feel when he said, “We shall overcome?,” Talmadge repeated, “Sick.”
The author then asked, “Did you feel that Lyndon Johnson betrayed you?” There was a longer pause. It could not have been easy for a politician as wily as Herman Talmadge to admit he had been fooled so completely. “Yes,” he finally said.
Lyndon Johnson, the master of the Senate, was able to fool some of America’s greatest as well as most heinous minds. As president, Johnson did more to emancipate the Southern Black man than anyone in American history short of Abraham Lincoln. He lifted millions out of poverty. He got hundreds of thousands killed. He was a terrible husband, a tyrant to his staff, yet at times affable, intelligent, funny, charismatic, and for millions, a source of hope. He was competent and tireless and driven, maybe none more so. In 1957, when he ensured that the civil rights bill would be watered down to such an extent, that Southerners would not filibuster, meaning it could pass but do essentially nothing in effect, liberals called it betrayal. Yet every time Johnson argued that this bill would break the dam, and that more and better things would come to follow, he was right.
This is probably the best history book that I have read. Although this period of history interests me tremendously–and is something I have spent a lot of time on while in uni the last few years–the way in which Robert Caro was able to narrativise the history was done very well. The prose and sense of drama invested me hugely, on top of already being gripped by the substantive events in this time period.
Caro takes his time. He goes on tangents. And I think the book is better for it. Master of the Senate starts with a 100 page short history of the American Senate from its founding to the 1940s, and having that deeper understanding of the institution allows us to put things into greater context. Without knowing who the “Senate Four” from the turn of the century were, or just how ingrained seniority rule was, I would not have appreciated the extent to which Johnson was able to change the Senate rules so much in so little time. How he was able to make himself as Majority Leader, nearly as powerful as the US president by 1958, when before Johnson, the Majority Leader role was largely ceremonial with very little power, and not something anyone wanted to be.
My favourite chapter in the book, other than the last few on the 1957 civil rights act (which is the climax of the book, and what all of it builds up to [pretty great structuring I think. Really good scope]), was the one on Russell. Richard Brevard Russell Jr. was such a hugely influential figure within the senate. Arguably one of the most influential congressmen of the 20th century, and his name seems to largely be forgotten. The relationship he developed with Johnson was something I was well aware of because of a thesis I wrote in which I read/listened to dozens and dozens of Russell/Johnson white house tapes from when he was president, but seeing its origins, as well as Russell’s personal origins was just super interesting.
And man alive did I enjoy seeing someone finally shut Russell the fuck up about “states rights, let the south deal with its very complicated racial issues on its own pace, we must not tip the scales”. The man who always maintained his dignity, and pride. Who always felt above everyone else. Richard Russell, who everyone in the senate respected for his intelligence and decorum. He as a person was finally brought as low as the cause to which he dedicated his entire political career, that of white supremacy, and defending the domination of the Southern Black man by the Southern White man. A long passage, but I have never felt as much catharsis from reading a history book as I did from this (huge testament to Caro for how he wrote it):
“Russell's face was a very deep red now. "I am delighted to hear the Senator say that progress is being made," he said. Then he said, "The system which the senator from Michigan wants to impose on Georgia brought about race riots in Michigan.... If the Senator from Michigan would simply not seek to invade our state to fasten the race riot- generating system upon us, we would appreciate it. Let him keep it in Michigan." All over the Chamber, on both sides of the aisle, senators were on their feet shouting for the floor. At first Russell refused to yield it, but one of the senators was Pat McNamara, also of Michigan. "Yes: I yield to the Senator from Michigan,' Russell said at last. "I mentioned his state." McNamara said Michigan needed no defense, that his state could handle its affairs without outside interference. "Then why does not the Senator let us do the same?" Russell asked. There was applause from the southern senators seated around him. But he had asked a question, and he was to receive an answer to it "McNamara,' Doris Fleeson wrote, "roared in the bull voice trained in a thousand union meeting halls: Because you've had ninety years and haven't done it!"
That’s exactly right, McNamara.
Johnson is a complicated figure. If anyone knows anything about Johnson, it’s that. As president he probably had some of the most impressive legislation passed, much of it attributable to his own skill and influence. At the same time, he was greatly responsible for some of the United States’ greatest failures, politically and morally, overseeing escalation in Vietnam, willfully turning the conflict into a full-blown war. What perhaps I did not know about Johnson was how personally loathsome he was as an individual man. He was unbelievably mean, especially to the people he worked for. And sure, “the Johnson treatment” was something that helped Johnson secure political goals which would help tens of millions of Americans. But I see no reason in the degree to which he terrorised his staff. It sure as shit made sure that a lot of very competent people didn’t want to work for him. He knew he had to control himself amongst fellow senators, but he just didn’t care to do that with anyone who was beneath him.
Worst of all, he was a terrible husband. There were two very public affairs which his wife simply had to put up with. Several more private affairs which he barely cared to keep secret from his wife. The single most horrible anecdote is one at a party hosted by the Johnson’s. Ladybird, although very smart and competent (which Johnson never really allowed her to use her competences for anything), was very shy, especially around important senators and other politicians. She hated public speaking and being the centre of attention. At such a party, Johnson would be sitting in his chair in one part of the house, Ladybird working in the kitchen in the other part of the house. Johnson would scream at the top of his lungs: ‘LADYBIRD, GET ME ANOTHER DAMN DRINK’. Husbands in the 1930s-50s were categorically worse human beings than husbands in the modern day, but even in this time period, Johnson’s treatment of his wife was seen as exceptional.
As Caro wrote:
“A researcher trying to get a picture of the Johnsons hears, over and over, the same phrase: ‘I don't know how she stood it.’”
I think I probably also overestimated the extent to which Johnson was personally invested in securing civil rights for Black Americans. Obviously everyone knows how he played a part in the 1960s civil rights legislation being passed, but when you read about his time as Majority Leader during the 50s, he doesn’t really inhibit the behaviour of a person who cared much about it on an individual level. It was about power to him. Before 1957, trying to pass civil rights legislation was not in the political interest of Lyndon. As soon as it was in his political interest, he became the Civil Rights movement’s biggest asset to the cause. Again, Caro puts it very well. For much of his life, compassion and ambition were at odds within the heart and mind of Lyndon B. Johnson. And not once, did the former beat out the latter.
Lyndon Johnson was a complete political chameleon, able to take up any political cause which would favour him. At the start of his career, he had his senate seat to thank to the Texan oil industry, so he made sure he would give them hundreds of millions of dollars in handouts despite the wishes of the American people. At the start of his career, Richard Russell was his mentor, and Johnson realised he was able to get a hold of power through Russell and his fellow Dixiecrats. That meant that Johnson would be all in with segregationism. But by the second half of the 50s Johnson sensed that the tides were turning, and that Civil Rights would be the thing that could finally launch him–despite being a Southerner–into the White House, and there you go. Months later, the first civil rights legislation since reconstruction in the 1880s was passed. That was Lyndon Johnson. But what important to understand there is that he really made himself believe in every cause he took up. He forced himself to feel the pain that a Black man in the South facing unimaginable racism would feel. Because as Sam Johnson told his son, to sell something, you have to believe it, and when Johnson set his mind on something, there would be no bigger believer in the world.
Does anyone know who Lyndon Johnson was? After reading a 1200 page history book on him, that might be a strange question to ask. The answer is, I don’t know. I’d like to believe that the author, Robert Caro knows Johnson, at least, as well as anyone could know him. But Johnson was so many different things at the same time, as well as different things at different times. He is one of the great complex figures of the 20th century.
How could I say I know Johnson, when not even his close friends knew Johnson? Near the end, Caro (almost gleefully) informs the reader that he was finally able to book an interview with a Georgia Senator from the 50s-80s, Herman Talmadge, a segregationist through and through. This interview was in 2000, right before Talmade died, about 45 years after the events of the book. Caro explains how close Talmadge and Johnson were, as Johnson was close to most Southerners.
Caro asks: “How did Lyndon Johnson view the relationship between whites and Negroes? “Master and servant,” Talmadge replied. Well, didn’t he have any sympathy for their situation? “None indicated,” Talmadge replied”
Talmadge said that during the 1950s, Johnson would assure the southerners that they could count on him to weaken a civil rights bill as much as possible, that he was on their side on civil rights, that he had to pretend that he wasn’t, to meet the Southern Caucus as infrequently as possible, but that he really was their ally.
“He would tell us, I’m one of you, but I can help you more if I don’t meet with you.” And, Talmadge said, the southerners believed him, believed that while changes in the civil rights laws were inevitable, Johnson would keep them as minor as possible, that “he was with us in his heart.”
“I believed him,” Talmadge said, but “I changed my opinion.” When? “When he was President,” Talmadge said. How did you feel then? “Disappointed,” Talmadge said. “Angry.” There was a long pause, and then he added, “Sick.” When asked, How did you feel when he said, “We shall overcome?,” Talmadge repeated, “Sick.”
The author then asked, “Did you feel that Lyndon Johnson betrayed you?” There was a longer pause. It could not have been easy for a politician as wily as Herman Talmadge to admit he had been fooled so completely. “Yes,” he finally said.
Lyndon Johnson, the master of the Senate, was able to fool some of America’s greatest as well as most heinous minds. As president, Johnson did more to emancipate the Southern Black man than anyone in American history short of Abraham Lincoln. He lifted millions out of poverty. He got hundreds of thousands killed. He was a terrible husband, a tyrant to his staff, yet at times affable, intelligent, funny, charismatic, and for millions, a source of hope. He was competent and tireless and driven, maybe none more so. In 1957, when he ensured that the civil rights bill would be watered down to such an extent, that Southerners would not filibuster, meaning it could pass but do essentially nothing in effect, liberals called it betrayal. Yet every time Johnson argued that this bill would break the dam, and that more and better things would come to follow, he was right.
Much like all DCC books before it, this was quite a lot of fun. I will say that this is the first book in the series in a while where there are cracks showing.
As it has been for the last 3-4 books, the meta-narrative part of the story is the most fun and engaging, though the scope of the plot, and all the elements that play a part in it, is kind of starting to balloon. I appreciate the story growing more complex, but there are absolute growing pains. The humour is a bit hit or miss with Dinniman. I thought it was mostly a miss in Operation Bounce House, and it's generally always a miss with Samantha (who, unfortunately, is Dinniman's favourite character to write [she is my least favourite character to read]), though Donut, Prepotente, and now Penny as well are hits.
I think overall this was one of the weaker floors in the series, and the first 75% of the story was some of the weaker DCC stuff because of it, but the ending was very strong.
Overall I did definitely enjoy it, but I hope that this book isn't a sign of the series going in a bad direction.
Much like all DCC books before it, this was quite a lot of fun. I will say that this is the first book in the series in a while where there are cracks showing.
As it has been for the last 3-4 books, the meta-narrative part of the story is the most fun and engaging, though the scope of the plot, and all the elements that play a part in it, is kind of starting to balloon. I appreciate the story growing more complex, but there are absolute growing pains. The humour is a bit hit or miss with Dinniman. I thought it was mostly a miss in Operation Bounce House, and it's generally always a miss with Samantha (who, unfortunately, is Dinniman's favourite character to write [she is my least favourite character to read]), though Donut, Prepotente, and now Penny as well are hits.
I think overall this was one of the weaker floors in the series, and the first 75% of the story was some of the weaker DCC stuff because of it, but the ending was very strong.
Overall I did definitely enjoy it, but I hope that this book isn't a sign of the series going in a bad direction.
It's been a while since Fonda Lee's last full-length solo novel released, which was Jade Legacy about 3.5 years ago (covid time is so fake). Jade Legacy being my favourite book of all, Greenbone Saga being my favourite series of all time, and her book with Shannon Lee falling a bit flat, Isako had a lot to live up to. And it was great!
The emotional heart of this story is the parallel journey of two contractors struggling to live by a code, one young and one old. Both increasingly growing disillusioned. As you can expect, Fonda Lee's character writing is on-point, and I was invested in both their stories immediately. Combined with interesting and complex secondary characters, the whole cast of this book meets the standard she set with Greenbone Saga.
The story is about a contractor on her last mission before resignation (which entails voluntary suicide to spare resources for humanity on a world with great scarcity), in which she gets embroiled in the mysterious fate of her old student, who is a contractor to the big rising star in The Company. Overall the narrative is very well crafted, and its many twists foreshadowed quite well. Some twists I was able to guess, others blindsided me. Both worked! The pacing is solid, the narrative structure interesting and constantly engaging (though I expect this part to be perhaps a little more of a contentious thing among fans), and the ending worked really well.
Lastly, worldbuilding. What made the world of Greenbone Saga so interesting is that it felt so lived in. From macroeconomics, to microeconomics, to how finance relates to politics, to geopolitics, to car brands, food and technology. There's such attention to detail in those books, and I was gladdened to see that Fonda Lee paid just as much attention to crafting the world in this story.
Really looking forward to whatever next project she's working on! Fonda Lee is an insta-buy.
It's been a while since Fonda Lee's last full-length solo novel released, which was Jade Legacy about 3.5 years ago (covid time is so fake). Jade Legacy being my favourite book of all, Greenbone Saga being my favourite series of all time, and her book with Shannon Lee falling a bit flat, Isako had a lot to live up to. And it was great!
The emotional heart of this story is the parallel journey of two contractors struggling to live by a code, one young and one old. Both increasingly growing disillusioned. As you can expect, Fonda Lee's character writing is on-point, and I was invested in both their stories immediately. Combined with interesting and complex secondary characters, the whole cast of this book meets the standard she set with Greenbone Saga.
The story is about a contractor on her last mission before resignation (which entails voluntary suicide to spare resources for humanity on a world with great scarcity), in which she gets embroiled in the mysterious fate of her old student, who is a contractor to the big rising star in The Company. Overall the narrative is very well crafted, and its many twists foreshadowed quite well. Some twists I was able to guess, others blindsided me. Both worked! The pacing is solid, the narrative structure interesting and constantly engaging (though I expect this part to be perhaps a little more of a contentious thing among fans), and the ending worked really well.
Lastly, worldbuilding. What made the world of Greenbone Saga so interesting is that it felt so lived in. From macroeconomics, to microeconomics, to how finance relates to politics, to geopolitics, to car brands, food and technology. There's such attention to detail in those books, and I was gladdened to see that Fonda Lee paid just as much attention to crafting the world in this story.
Really looking forward to whatever next project she's working on! Fonda Lee is an insta-buy.
Added to listOwnedwith 35 books.
The Faith of Beasts is an incredibly successful sequel to The Mercy of Gods, and has got me really excited to see how Franck and Abraham wrap the trilogy up in the final book in The Captive's War trilogy.
This installment basically does everything I wanted it to after b1. It advances the character work, setting and plot in really interesting and satisfying, with tons of surprises spersed in. I particularly enjoyed the story's musings on the conflict between rejecting oppression vs trying to make the best of it, in a setting with so much immediate seemingly arbitrary violence.
Learning more and more about how the Carryx think, and how their society is structured was great–they really do feel alien. Seeing the Carryx in a great amount of detail contrasted at just the faintest hints of the deathless enemy is also a cool way to frame the wider conflict of this story.
Overall I have no notes and no complaints. Really not a lot to critique about The Faith of Beasts. This series is very different to The Expanse, but I think it's just as good, if not better.
The Faith of Beasts is an incredibly successful sequel to The Mercy of Gods, and has got me really excited to see how Franck and Abraham wrap the trilogy up in the final book in The Captive's War trilogy.
This installment basically does everything I wanted it to after b1. It advances the character work, setting and plot in really interesting and satisfying, with tons of surprises spersed in. I particularly enjoyed the story's musings on the conflict between rejecting oppression vs trying to make the best of it, in a setting with so much immediate seemingly arbitrary violence.
Learning more and more about how the Carryx think, and how their society is structured was great–they really do feel alien. Seeing the Carryx in a great amount of detail contrasted at just the faintest hints of the deathless enemy is also a cool way to frame the wider conflict of this story.
Overall I have no notes and no complaints. Really not a lot to critique about The Faith of Beasts. This series is very different to The Expanse, but I think it's just as good, if not better.
Added to listOwnedwith 34 books.
The first two Mark Lawrence books I read, being the first two books in the Library Trilogy, I thought were pretty fantastic. I fell in love with its setting, story and most of all its characters. The Book That Held Her Heart, the final book in the trilogy, was probably the most disappointing book I had ever read. I kept thinking: “why is any of this happening? Why is the story *this*?
Unfortunately, Daughter of Crows continues that streak, as its narrative, especially in the first half of the story, is a hot mess. The Rue POV chapters for the first 150 pages followed the exact same formula 3 times in a row. Thing A happened, then B, then C, back to A. This exact sequence 3 times in a row, and I had no clue what story the book was telling. Fortunately, Rue's story in the second half of the book was much stronger with a much clearer narrative that I ended up enjoying a bit.
I think the Academy chapters were much stronger, and contained some fun character dynamics and character relationships. The setting was interesting (though it seems like it's largely windowdressing, at least in this first book), the ending came together quite nicely, and the prose was pretty good. Mark Lawrence is obviously a very skilled writer, I just felt like this book needed two more rounds of outlining, and a much clearer direction from the start.
2 hits and 2 misses.
The first two Mark Lawrence books I read, being the first two books in the Library Trilogy, I thought were pretty fantastic. I fell in love with its setting, story and most of all its characters. The Book That Held Her Heart, the final book in the trilogy, was probably the most disappointing book I had ever read. I kept thinking: “why is any of this happening? Why is the story *this*?
Unfortunately, Daughter of Crows continues that streak, as its narrative, especially in the first half of the story, is a hot mess. The Rue POV chapters for the first 150 pages followed the exact same formula 3 times in a row. Thing A happened, then B, then C, back to A. This exact sequence 3 times in a row, and I had no clue what story the book was telling. Fortunately, Rue's story in the second half of the book was much stronger with a much clearer narrative that I ended up enjoying a bit.
I think the Academy chapters were much stronger, and contained some fun character dynamics and character relationships. The setting was interesting (though it seems like it's largely windowdressing, at least in this first book), the ending came together quite nicely, and the prose was pretty good. Mark Lawrence is obviously a very skilled writer, I just felt like this book needed two more rounds of outlining, and a much clearer direction from the start.
2 hits and 2 misses.
The trouble you cause will chase after you forever. Doesn't matter how good you seem, if what you did is evil, that is what you are. If you act like a coward, you are one. If you're on a path of vengeance, you'll be trailing blood, and more blood will be ahead of you. You can’t take back what you did; you can't change who you are… but in rare cases, granted you meet the right people at the right moment, you can.
Whenever people rank all ten First Law books, Red Country usually finds itself near the bottom. I disagreed on my first read of the series, and this reread has solidified that view. Red Country is phenomenal.
I think one of the reasons why people don't like Red Country as much is because its main characters, Temple and Shy, aren't as immediately charismatic or exciting as Glokta, Logen or Orso were. But I think these two have such tremendous heart, and their emotions connected me so well to the book's plot. Temple specifically I am a big fan of, and I feel somewhat of a personal affinity to, as out of all the Abercrombie characters, I find him somewhat relatable in temperance, if not character. Then there is Lamb. Man did this character get a flawless conclusion. Red Country in general probably has a 10/10 ending, I don’t think it could have been done any better. The earlier story climax with the Dragon People was heartbreaking, but the more personal ending for these characters… just wow.
By now it's common knowledge that with the First Law Standalones, Abercrombie set out to write three archetypical cinematic stories. Best Served Cold is a bloody revenge story, The Heroes is a war-epic, and Red Country a classic Western. Although of these three, The Heroes is still my favourite (Red Country second, having grown closer than on my original read), but I think it's Red Country that does its genre best. It feels *so much* like a Western. The slow, morose tone felt perfect for the story Abercrombie wanted to tell. I think the book being pretty slow paced is another reason why people generally rate it pretty low, but I think it was the right decision for this story in this genre.
Spoiler talk
Not everybody can change, but you're better off trying. You are what you were yesterday, but with great effort and a little luck, that's not who you will be tomorrow.
Thematically, the story is about a lot of things, but the main theme that's on my mind is on whether or not people can change. There are four characters in this book whose stories run parallel. Glama, Temple, Shivers, and Logen.
Glama undergoes a big off-screen arc since we saw him last in The Heroes. Humility and regret have replaced blustering ego. Glama feels to me a lot like Logen near the end of The Last Argument of Kings. He knows what he is, and it seems likely that much like Logen did in the original trilogy, he tried being someone else. It did not stick. Glama finds his end against Logen much like how Logen went down in LAOK. Alone.
Temple's arc shows that people can change. All Temple needed was to meet the right people to help him along the way, and finally stand up for himself and do the hard thing. To really try.
Shivers is the main character of the standalone trilogy, and Shivers’ transformation across these three books feels like the thematic thesis or Red Country. It is both possible to try and be better and fail as Logen does–as Shivers does in Best Served Cold. But it is equally possible to try and do better and succeed as Temple does–as Shivers does in letting Logen go at the end of the book. I don't think Abercrombie figured out the formula for when someone fails or succeeds, but he seems to emphasise the importance of trying. After all, isn't there any character worth more pity and scorn than Cosca? Right before be dies we find out that he *wanted* to be something else, yet he never tried. And what did that bring him? Nothing much good at all.
That leaves us with Logen, my favourite character in all of the First Law, and one of the most complex and hard to parse characters in this genre. Is Logen evil? As he said himself, going by what he did, it's hard to argue he's not. But why does the reader find themselves rooting for him despite Logen failing to walk away from violence knowing what it does to him, time and time again. It's because he tries *so damn hard*. Logen leaving the North and helping raise Shy, Pit and Ro was an act of so much good, and yet… And yet Ro wishes Caul Shivers killed Lamb right in front of her eyes, for what he did.
I think for every sequential First Law read, I'll have new thoughts on this character.
All in all, I adore Red Country, and I think it perfectly wraps up the story of its characters, as well as The Great Leveller trilogy as a whole. This book deserves a lot more love.
The trouble you cause will chase after you forever. Doesn't matter how good you seem, if what you did is evil, that is what you are. If you act like a coward, you are one. If you're on a path of vengeance, you'll be trailing blood, and more blood will be ahead of you. You can’t take back what you did; you can't change who you are… but in rare cases, granted you meet the right people at the right moment, you can.
Whenever people rank all ten First Law books, Red Country usually finds itself near the bottom. I disagreed on my first read of the series, and this reread has solidified that view. Red Country is phenomenal.
I think one of the reasons why people don't like Red Country as much is because its main characters, Temple and Shy, aren't as immediately charismatic or exciting as Glokta, Logen or Orso were. But I think these two have such tremendous heart, and their emotions connected me so well to the book's plot. Temple specifically I am a big fan of, and I feel somewhat of a personal affinity to, as out of all the Abercrombie characters, I find him somewhat relatable in temperance, if not character. Then there is Lamb. Man did this character get a flawless conclusion. Red Country in general probably has a 10/10 ending, I don’t think it could have been done any better. The earlier story climax with the Dragon People was heartbreaking, but the more personal ending for these characters… just wow.
By now it's common knowledge that with the First Law Standalones, Abercrombie set out to write three archetypical cinematic stories. Best Served Cold is a bloody revenge story, The Heroes is a war-epic, and Red Country a classic Western. Although of these three, The Heroes is still my favourite (Red Country second, having grown closer than on my original read), but I think it's Red Country that does its genre best. It feels *so much* like a Western. The slow, morose tone felt perfect for the story Abercrombie wanted to tell. I think the book being pretty slow paced is another reason why people generally rate it pretty low, but I think it was the right decision for this story in this genre.
Spoiler talk
Not everybody can change, but you're better off trying. You are what you were yesterday, but with great effort and a little luck, that's not who you will be tomorrow.
Thematically, the story is about a lot of things, but the main theme that's on my mind is on whether or not people can change. There are four characters in this book whose stories run parallel. Glama, Temple, Shivers, and Logen.
Glama undergoes a big off-screen arc since we saw him last in The Heroes. Humility and regret have replaced blustering ego. Glama feels to me a lot like Logen near the end of The Last Argument of Kings. He knows what he is, and it seems likely that much like Logen did in the original trilogy, he tried being someone else. It did not stick. Glama finds his end against Logen much like how Logen went down in LAOK. Alone.
Temple's arc shows that people can change. All Temple needed was to meet the right people to help him along the way, and finally stand up for himself and do the hard thing. To really try.
Shivers is the main character of the standalone trilogy, and Shivers’ transformation across these three books feels like the thematic thesis or Red Country. It is both possible to try and be better and fail as Logen does–as Shivers does in Best Served Cold. But it is equally possible to try and do better and succeed as Temple does–as Shivers does in letting Logen go at the end of the book. I don't think Abercrombie figured out the formula for when someone fails or succeeds, but he seems to emphasise the importance of trying. After all, isn't there any character worth more pity and scorn than Cosca? Right before be dies we find out that he *wanted* to be something else, yet he never tried. And what did that bring him? Nothing much good at all.
That leaves us with Logen, my favourite character in all of the First Law, and one of the most complex and hard to parse characters in this genre. Is Logen evil? As he said himself, going by what he did, it's hard to argue he's not. But why does the reader find themselves rooting for him despite Logen failing to walk away from violence knowing what it does to him, time and time again. It's because he tries *so damn hard*. Logen leaving the North and helping raise Shy, Pit and Ro was an act of so much good, and yet… And yet Ro wishes Caul Shivers killed Lamb right in front of her eyes, for what he did.
I think for every sequential First Law read, I'll have new thoughts on this character.
All in all, I adore Red Country, and I think it perfectly wraps up the story of its characters, as well as The Great Leveller trilogy as a whole. This book deserves a lot more love.
I'm a big fan of the SCP-verse, and getting a full novel as an SCP story did not disappoint. SCP really excels at giving you an awesome scifi-mystery premise, and SCP-3125 was no exception. The concept of anti-memetics, and showing what an anti-memetic war could look like through the perspective of a foundation was really well done. It was definitely confusing at times–I still don't entirely understand the chronology–and I think the second half isn't as good as the first half (asking the questions is usually more fun than finding answers is par for the course with SCP), but I do think the book stuck the landing. It showed quite a lot of heart, especially the last few chapters, which I wasn't expecting.
I'm a big fan of the SCP-verse, and getting a full novel as an SCP story did not disappoint. SCP really excels at giving you an awesome scifi-mystery premise, and SCP-3125 was no exception. The concept of anti-memetics, and showing what an anti-memetic war could look like through the perspective of a foundation was really well done. It was definitely confusing at times–I still don't entirely understand the chronology–and I think the second half isn't as good as the first half (asking the questions is usually more fun than finding answers is par for the course with SCP), but I do think the book stuck the landing. It showed quite a lot of heart, especially the last few chapters, which I wasn't expecting.
