General Commentary

Swap this week: Stefan Calin, Mist at Dawn:

A mysterious dark storm has been plaguing the world of Vyszalos for more than two months. It spread from Almotte to Kadrassi, covering both continents in darkness, death, and desolation. Yessod, a higher-being from another world has arrived, seeking to stop the utter annihilation of the planet. But things are complicated. For one, the shadowy plague seems to have appeared out of the blue since no one can accurately track down a cause for these dark events. Furthermore, Yessod must solve the mystery and somehow save this world without giving away his true nature to any of its inhabitants as that would irreparably alter its history for the worse. Can Yessod solve the puzzle in time? Will he find a way to undo the evil and bring back life and light into this world? As Yessod rushes to discover what lies behind these ill-fated events, this gripping, fascinating story will take you unto a world like no other...

So to take my mind off of some other things going on lately, I read or re-read some Roger Zelazny, specifically the first Amber series (I didn’t like the second series, if I’m honest), Jack of Shadows, and Lord of Light.

I was partly prompted to do this by a friend who’d never read Amber, who read the first book on my recommendation, and hated it. You can’t please everyone, obviously, but I was surprised. I’ve read the first Amber series two or three times, and I’ve enjoyed just about every Zelazny book I’ve read. But I thought maybe I’d look again and see if I could figure out what he disliked so much.

If I have a big criticism of Zelazny, it’s his writing style, which isn’t very consistent. He strives, with considerable success, for a rather simple, straightforward manner, but then sets this against a grandiose, florid style of description. It’s the latter that doesn’t always work, in my view. I recently spotted a remark that in some of the books of this middle period he was consciously trying out a style influenced by Jack Vance, and that explains a lot: Vance doesn’t always get away with it either, but when he does (Lyonesse, Dying Earth), it’s pretty wonderful.

The one of these books I’d never read is Lord of Light, which is deeply strange and quite wonderful. It’s something nobody but Zelazny could have written.

In short, the idea is that somewhere in the future, on a distant planet, the crew of the original colony ship have set up a society in which they are the absolute rulers. What’s more, they have ultra-tech of various kinds, including immortality, body-transference (or mind-transference, if you prefer), and some pretty insane weaponry and such. They have assumed to themselves the status, roles, and natures of Hindu gods and goddesses, and they have imposed on ordinary mortals a low-medieval technological level; if the people ever discover something more advanced, like the printing press, the “gods” come down and smite.

Of course, there are some “gods” who don’t think this is a good way to do things, notably the hero of the piece, variously known as Sam (likely his original name), Mahasamatman (Great-Souled Sam), Tathagatha, Siddhartha, Maitreya, etc. In other words, he’s taken on the role of the Buddha, and is spreading Buddhist teachings. You wouldn’t think this a very efficient way to cause a revolt against the gods, but it does make a good deal of sense here.

As in most Zelazny books, this means that the cunning superman hero is continually plotting and manipulating, and this leads to a series of long set-pieces about his various campaigns. They’re not told in chronological order, but you figure it out pretty quick.

The point is, this really shouldn’t work. You shouldn’t be able to write a fantasy/scifi novel in which the main characters are warring Hindu gods, except that the protagonist is preaching the sermons of the Buddha. It should be arch, self-righteous, narcissistic, and basically dreadful. But somehow Zelazny pulls it off.

I’m not going to agree with Neil Gaiman, George R. R. Martin, and all the others who say it’s a masterpiece. It’s not. But it’s very, very good — and it has no right to be. No novel with such a precious, affected basis has any right to be anything but dreck. So how did Zelazny pull it off?

I don’t have an answer just yet. Sorry!

One thing, I think, is the difference of expectation between then (1970s-80s) and now. You can’t write a short book like that, with VERY high concept, and not explain yourself. Just not done. But in Zelazny’s day, that wasn’t unusual. Look at Creatures of Light and Darkness, for example, which no publisher would take on today — but which is pretty darn good. Or my personal favorite, Roadmarks, which never explains anything, and is fun straight through with a great punchline — and this amazing scene where the ultimate assassin, set up in several chapters, confronts the reality of the protagonist… and bows, and walks away. AND HE MAKES THAT BELIEVABLE!

My friend who hated Nine Princes in Amber is wrong, because it’s a good book, and the series is terrific. I can forgive him, because I’m a nice person, but ultimately I think he’s just misread a certain irregular simplicity of style for trash. That said, I don’t think Amber is Zelazny’s greatest creation… but I’m uncertain just what that was.

If you haven’t read much Zelazny, I think you should put his stuff very high on your list. 1960s-80s fantasy/scifi reads very oddly at the moment, but it’s worth considering how these guys produced a genre from something most publishers wouldn’t touch. That’s when it happened, and it was Zelazny—and Heinlein, Haldeman, Niven, etc.—who pulled it off. Zelazny was the weirdest of them all, not in the usual senses of “weird,” and it’s definitely worth examining how he did it.

I’d say start with Roadmarks, then read Lord of Light, and then Amber.

Love it or hate it, you’ll be changed.

Thanks for reading!