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4.4 AVERAGE
4.4 AVERAGE
adventurous
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
adventurous
emotional
tense
medium-paced
A) Positive points
Hobb walks a fine line between literary fiction and fantasy. Literary fiction is brought to mind not only by the undeniable beauty of the prose, but also by the grounded nature of what's happening. Despite the fantasy elements that are sprinkled throughout, every choice has long-lasting and thoroughly explored consequences . For example, Fitz’s "death" in the dungeons was not a cheap solution that would allow him to suddenly reappear and move on as if nothing happened. The transition to his past life was very challenging (props to Hobb for that part of Assassin’s Quest - the thoughts of “animal Fitz” were very distinct from the ones of “human Fitz” and it was very interesting/funny to see how he perceived time and human conventions while still on wolf mode). Apart from the practical aspect, however, his former life was indeed over in a very real way. Even if he came back, people close to him would no longer associate with him because of the Wit, and he had to abandon people who actually cared about him (Patience, Molly). He was living a half-life after that.
What I loved about Hobb’s writing is that she takes a seemingly archetypal character type / device / relationship and flips it on its head. Take the relationship of Verity and Kettricken , for example. Hobb takes her time and carefully constructs their interaction by taking into account the character’s personalities and backstories, without ever rushing a transformation. The end of the first book leaves you thinking that everything will work out between them, that they embark upon a marriage thinking highly of each other and having put aside the fact that their marriage is one of convenience, a union agreed upon in order to confer strategic advantages to the kingdom. There is not a defining moment, however, that pushes Ketricken to overcome her sorrow, her loneliness and her homesickness. There are moments where she feels closer to her new husband, where she feels like she has a purpose, and then come other disappointments and frustrations. They do not ever become “soulmates” - they do not find each other never to part again and ready to face all the difficulties.
Same goes for the dragons . When they were first introduced in book 3, I must say I was a bit disappointed, because what makes this world work for me are the intimate (in some sense) stakes. Sure, the kingdom is threatened, but it is the meticulous character work that always takes center stage. So at first, this switch to a more high fantasy-like world felt somewhat cheap and easy. It was as if the essence of the series was betrayed. I must admit, however, that in the end I appreciated the execution of the trope. The cost of bringing a dragon to life was in keeping with the tone of the series and I was gutted to see Verity sacrifice himself. What dampened this impact however, was the fact that a few pages later Fitz managed to revive all the dragons in the Stone Garden. It just made the sacrifice small and irrelevant and as if it happened in vain. (Although I guess there is also an irony and a sadness in that - after all, it is only in retrospect that one can judge whether one's actions were worth the trouble).
I also liked the depiction of violence . It never seems gratuitous or long-winded. It is described like a blur and that choice works on many levels. First of all, it makes sense since Fitz is supposed to be writing his memoir - and a photographic memory of every blow is impossible when we are talking about memory. More importantly, though, it is as if Hobb makes a conscious choice to focus on the horror rather than the “spectacle” of it (which coincidentally suits me well enough since I have no interest in stretched out battle sequences).
B) The characters
The character work is really the star of the show. Almost all characters (even the secondary ones) have a very strong identity, without ever being reduced to a single characteristic. Instead, they are continually recontextualised. Hobb peels back layers and slowly reveals their emotional complexity, fragility and humanity.
In that respect, I found the naming convention of the nobility to be quite interesting, while deceptively prosaic. It is as if a single word conditions you to believe you have a character all figured out, but then you get the chance to see whether they live up to that ideal / how they fall short / how expectations have shaped their lives.
Take the case of Shrewd , for example. In some ways he was, indeed, ingenious, and he did what was best for the interests of the royal family and the stability of the kingdom. In book 1 he gave the impression of a cold, plotting man who manipulated Fitz to serve his interests. While perfectly understandable, his attitude made me froth at the mouth : poor Fitz was kept in such isolation and was so in need of someone to recognize him and to give him a sense of identity, that he gladly accepted whatever scraps (assassin work) Shrewd threw at him. For example, there is a scene where Burrich tells him to pick a name for himself and Fitz insists that he wants Shrewd to pick one for him (after all, names are bestowed upon birth and are supposed to inform one’s life). For lack of a proper name, he remains Fitz (aka the bastard), and wears a buck crest with a red slash to always be reminded of his station and his lot in life. Progressively, however, we realized that Shrewd had severe blind spots : not recognizing who was indeed an ally, doting on his favorite son and giving him a pass for treacherous behavior. I ended up feeling deeply sad for him as he understood who was, in fact, loyal to him and as he realized right before the end that he had misjudged his children.
Verity is another character I am very fond of. Finding himself in a position he does not want and for which he is not prepared, he struggles to do his best while always being confronted with his father’s and his people’s lack of faith in his abilities. He knows that trying to measure up to his dead brother is a losing game, since he lacks the charm and diplomatic skills. While fighting his own demons, however, he is the first person who is related to Fitz by blood and who actually takes an interest in him as a person - showing him kindness without ulterior motives. I was looking forward to their interactions and I hoped that Verity would manage to take Fitz under his wing - to be his guide and mentor. At the same time, Verity was extremely exasperating. How could he be so blind to Kettricken’s feelings, how could he abandon his father while he wasted away, and how could he dismiss the severity of his brother’s machinations? Families are complicated, I guess. In the end I loved the fact that Verity - the man who was never really thought of highly as a king, the man who was always suffering in the shadows to do well by his subjects - managed to serve his people and to achieve what everyone thought him incapable of (albeit in a way that was more suited to him: in the sidelines, but not less valiant for that).
Burrich is one of my favorite characters and I was fascinated by the relationship between him and Fitz. He is a man of few words, strong and stoic, who cares deeply about Fitz but does not (cannot?) express it. I loved how Fitz always felt an anger and a violence bubbling under the surface on the part of Burrich, and mistook it for hostility - not yet able to comprehend that sentiments can be as sincere as contradictory. In the second book I grew to love him even more - he is so distant and guarded and yet he has some moments where his emotion just rushes through, raw and unstoppable.
I think Chade provides a very interesting parallel to Fitz in the story. Both being bastards of the royal family, they seem destined to lead a very well-defined and restricted life. Chade seems intent on giving Fitz the tools for a life better than his own and he blames him when he fails to grasp those opportunities (for example, he spites him for failing his skill training in Assassin's Apprentice). At the same time, whenever Fitz wants to break the mold and to think for himself instead of simply executing orders, Chade crushes those aspirations (while it is clear that had Chade taken initiative to weed the garden that is his family, had he done something to stop Regal’s behavior, things would have been much better). I think that if Fitz doesn’t manage to become something more, Chade will be relieved in a way - it will be proof that no royal bastard can excel and that therefore his life has not been wasted in vain. After Shrewd’s death and Verity’s uncertain fate, Chade’s life changes and he flourishes. He leaves the confines of the castle, and while still acting in line with his duty to the Farseer line, he manages to claim a life for himself - both by taking initiatives and doing what he sees fit, but also by having a personal life.
Fitz is a really interesting character to follow (and I must say that, apart from 1-2 moments where I rolled my eyes at his ignorance, I am absolutely baffled as to why some people consider him to be stupid). I really enjoyed his trajectory from being a lonely child desperately wanting to belong, to a young man trying to sort out his loyalties and accommodate some sort of personal space into the mess that is his life.
I found his storyline in the first book to be particularly heart-breaking: a small kid in need of a father-figure (one he searches for and one he is, in many ways, denied). His whole life is basically a result of his abandonment. He is backed into a corner and forced to the stealth lifestyle of the assassin. Then, in the second book , Fitz really came into his own: after visiting the mountain kingdom and seeing what it feels like to be treated with respect, he is more comfortable in his skin, more mature, he assumes the title of Chivalry’s (illegitimate) son rather than hiding away as a stableboy. He also seems to have embraced (at least in part) what his loyalty to Shrewd entails, and the fact that he will have to bring about change with the means he possesses, no matter how lowly and ignoble. At the same time, he tries exercising agency over his life and setting boundaries between his sworn fealty to the king and his need for a personal life. That part does not go that well : Fitz essentially has to / chooses to withhold important information from Molly, information that anyone would have liked to know about their significant other. So he gives her no choice, no say in this partnership - he is well intentioned for the most part, but there were also scenes that made me really uncomfortable and made me look past his supposedly “pure intentions” (Molly does not get a say about being in a relationship with a glorified murderer, she does not know that she sometimes has sex with Verity listening in on them / that Fitz has sex with her while experiencing Verity’s lust for Kettricken, or that a wolf is privy to their love life).
I found it particularly interesting that in the third book Fitz had the choice to actually embrace a simple life without the restrictions of loyalty. I believe that Fitz tries to navigate what it means to be loyal to someone, and who is worthy of such loyalty. Shrewd gave him a purpose, but he treated him like a tool, he did not inspire Fitz’s dedication with his kindness and noble nature. It was rather an allegiance imposed on the hungry-to-belong Fitz, an allegiance which grew stronger as Shrewd grew weaker and needed protection. I am under the impression that Burrich, while being a man who needed to be inspired by Chivalry in order to serve him, is now of the opinion that dedication and duty are important virtues in and of themselves because they give motivation and orientation. When Fitz finds himself in a position to make sacrifices for his kings, he is much more willing to do so for Verity, a man whom he loves and respects. It is a chosen loyalty, not an imposed one (although he still finds it difficult to live up to the expectations everyone has of him). At the end of the trilogy I cried for him. He has had to give up all that was dear to him, knowing that the people he loved had found peace and would be better off not feeling guilt and regret upon his reappearance. He finds himself alone and rudderless, without even someone to inspire him and give him drive. I was all the more horrified when Fitz dreams of carving a dragon, being tempted by Verity’s horrific fate. Is it because of the craving for the skill? Is it a weariness with life and a longing for self-destruction? I am not sure.
I appreciated that while Fitz definitely fits the bill of “the chosen one”, I not once thought of him as that while reading. His development is so slow and methodical that, by the time indices that he is inherently important show up, you almost fail to see how (everything up to that point seems organic and not at all contrived).
I also liked that this medieval and typically male-dominated world slowly revealed itself to be also a universe of women . From Hod, the expert at swordsmanship, to Molly and Patience, who show strength in a less flashy but equally impressive way, to Ketricken, who incarnates a leader at once fierce, dignified and empathetic, to Starling, the traumatized but determined minstrel, and Kettle. Among these, the eccentric Lady Patience has a special place in my remembrance of the book. What a difficult position she finds herself in. Hating Fitz, and seeing in him the live embodiment of her husband's betrayal - and at the same time seeing her deceased partner in him and imagining what would have happened if they had raised him despite his illegitimacy. Her desperate need to see him be successful in something was so endearing - to make sure that his abandonment has not made him less well-rounded than he could have been. I wanted her to be more present in book 2, I missed her and wanted more substantial interaction between her and Fitz, although of course her affection was always apparent. I was also glad to find out that when things got difficult she managed to inspire confidence and fealty in the remaining residents of Buckkeep - she who always felt like a fish out of water in settings like this.
Molly (or, to be more exact, her relationship with Fitz) was a bleak spot for me. Once their romantic relationship was established, I liked the repercussions on Fitz’s life - his split loyalties, his desperate attempt to bridge two parts of his life that are fundamentally incompatible and his questionable decision to keep Molly in the dark about several aspects (discussed above). However, I never really got why they liked each other, and their transition from friends did not seem that believable to me : Fitz was much more aloof in the first book and his sudden realization of his feelings gave me whiplash. The beginning of the second book seemed much more “domestic” - with the stakes shifting from Rurisk’s assassination and Regal’s ploy to overtake the throne to his pining about a childhood friend. I was worried that Molly and Fitz would be endgame, or that Hobb was presenting them as a legitimate love story. So I was actually relieved when Starling put Fitz on the spot about the intimate things he kept hidden from Molly, and vindicated when Kettle showed him that what they perceived as love was at best a respite from their chaotic lives (and at worst a tumultuous liaison, filled with the angst and the sense of emergency of youth). I also liked that Molly finally found what she’s been looking for (and what she’s been missing) by ending up with Burrich.
I was also quite ambivalent about Prince Regal . I felt that, overall, he was quite basic as an antagonist - there was not much depth to him other than the pretty obvious desire of a petulant and spoiled child to take over the throne. His role was to set the wheels in motion and to serve as a foil who allows Fitz and other characters to show their mettle and explore their allegiances. However I must admit, there was some progress in his character during the trilogy. At first he was just a stuck-up prince whom I had difficulty taking seriously, but he gradually got more menacing. He was careless, at times, but he really managed to weave a tight web around the other members of his family/ people he considered as adversaries. He progressively seemed much more capable - if not himself then at least of manipulating others and grasping the opportune moment to act.
C) Negative points
I would like to talk a bit about some objections I had with the 3rd installment of the trilogy (which is, by far, the weakest). After the initial segment (which tackles Fitz’s transition to a human life) Fitz finds himself needing to carve out his path in life and to figure out where his true allegiances lie. For the first time he can theoretically choose what will become of him without being manipulated by people in court. In trying to figure things out he sets out on a quest to hunt down Regal, and eventually to find Verity. And, boy, is it a quest (and not in a good way)! Fitz just wanders about for ¾ of the book, pondering the same things over and over, while the narrative barely moves forward. While I appreciated that Hobb did not go for a contrived narrative where the hero goes to all the right places and instantly finds what he is looking for, one has to think about the necessary compromises between authenticity and good editing for the sake of readability. I started the book with great enthusiasm, but I ended up slogging through a big chunk of the book (especially when Fitz’s interactions with other people are minimal, or just short and ephemeral).
I also didn't really like how the raiders issue was resolved. It made sense that we did not get a lot of information, given that the narrator stayed away from the actual fighting, but the explanations for the whole supernatural aspect were glossed over and the conclusion was a bit rushed. I hope that the issue will be addressed again in future books.
Hobb walks a fine line between literary fiction and fantasy. Literary fiction is brought to mind not only by the undeniable beauty of the prose, but also by the grounded nature of what's happening. Despite the fantasy elements that are sprinkled throughout, every choice has long-lasting and thoroughly explored consequences . For example, Fitz’s "death" in the dungeons was not a cheap solution that would allow him to suddenly reappear and move on as if nothing happened. The transition to his past life was very challenging (props to Hobb for that part of Assassin’s Quest - the thoughts of “animal Fitz” were very distinct from the ones of “human Fitz” and it was very interesting/funny to see how he perceived time and human conventions while still on wolf mode). Apart from the practical aspect, however, his former life was indeed over in a very real way. Even if he came back, people close to him would no longer associate with him because of the Wit, and he had to abandon people who actually cared about him (Patience, Molly). He was living a half-life after that.
What I loved about Hobb’s writing is that she takes a seemingly archetypal character type / device / relationship and flips it on its head. Take the relationship of Verity and Kettricken , for example. Hobb takes her time and carefully constructs their interaction by taking into account the character’s personalities and backstories, without ever rushing a transformation. The end of the first book leaves you thinking that everything will work out between them, that they embark upon a marriage thinking highly of each other and having put aside the fact that their marriage is one of convenience, a union agreed upon in order to confer strategic advantages to the kingdom. There is not a defining moment, however, that pushes Ketricken to overcome her sorrow, her loneliness and her homesickness. There are moments where she feels closer to her new husband, where she feels like she has a purpose, and then come other disappointments and frustrations. They do not ever become “soulmates” - they do not find each other never to part again and ready to face all the difficulties.
Same goes for the dragons . When they were first introduced in book 3, I must say I was a bit disappointed, because what makes this world work for me are the intimate (in some sense) stakes. Sure, the kingdom is threatened, but it is the meticulous character work that always takes center stage. So at first, this switch to a more high fantasy-like world felt somewhat cheap and easy. It was as if the essence of the series was betrayed. I must admit, however, that in the end I appreciated the execution of the trope. The cost of bringing a dragon to life was in keeping with the tone of the series and I was gutted to see Verity sacrifice himself. What dampened this impact however, was the fact that a few pages later Fitz managed to revive all the dragons in the Stone Garden. It just made the sacrifice small and irrelevant and as if it happened in vain. (Although I guess there is also an irony and a sadness in that - after all, it is only in retrospect that one can judge whether one's actions were worth the trouble).
I also liked the depiction of violence . It never seems gratuitous or long-winded. It is described like a blur and that choice works on many levels. First of all, it makes sense since Fitz is supposed to be writing his memoir - and a photographic memory of every blow is impossible when we are talking about memory. More importantly, though, it is as if Hobb makes a conscious choice to focus on the horror rather than the “spectacle” of it (which coincidentally suits me well enough since I have no interest in stretched out battle sequences).
B) The characters
The character work is really the star of the show. Almost all characters (even the secondary ones) have a very strong identity, without ever being reduced to a single characteristic. Instead, they are continually recontextualised. Hobb peels back layers and slowly reveals their emotional complexity, fragility and humanity.
In that respect, I found the naming convention of the nobility to be quite interesting, while deceptively prosaic. It is as if a single word conditions you to believe you have a character all figured out, but then you get the chance to see whether they live up to that ideal / how they fall short / how expectations have shaped their lives.
Take the case of Shrewd , for example. In some ways he was, indeed, ingenious, and he did what was best for the interests of the royal family and the stability of the kingdom. In book 1 he gave the impression of a cold, plotting man who manipulated Fitz to serve his interests. While perfectly understandable, his attitude made me froth at the mouth : poor Fitz was kept in such isolation and was so in need of someone to recognize him and to give him a sense of identity, that he gladly accepted whatever scraps (assassin work) Shrewd threw at him. For example, there is a scene where Burrich tells him to pick a name for himself and Fitz insists that he wants Shrewd to pick one for him (after all, names are bestowed upon birth and are supposed to inform one’s life). For lack of a proper name, he remains Fitz (aka the bastard), and wears a buck crest with a red slash to always be reminded of his station and his lot in life. Progressively, however, we realized that Shrewd had severe blind spots : not recognizing who was indeed an ally, doting on his favorite son and giving him a pass for treacherous behavior. I ended up feeling deeply sad for him as he understood who was, in fact, loyal to him and as he realized right before the end that he had misjudged his children.
Verity is another character I am very fond of. Finding himself in a position he does not want and for which he is not prepared, he struggles to do his best while always being confronted with his father’s and his people’s lack of faith in his abilities. He knows that trying to measure up to his dead brother is a losing game, since he lacks the charm and diplomatic skills. While fighting his own demons, however, he is the first person who is related to Fitz by blood and who actually takes an interest in him as a person - showing him kindness without ulterior motives. I was looking forward to their interactions and I hoped that Verity would manage to take Fitz under his wing - to be his guide and mentor. At the same time, Verity was extremely exasperating. How could he be so blind to Kettricken’s feelings, how could he abandon his father while he wasted away, and how could he dismiss the severity of his brother’s machinations? Families are complicated, I guess. In the end I loved the fact that Verity - the man who was never really thought of highly as a king, the man who was always suffering in the shadows to do well by his subjects - managed to serve his people and to achieve what everyone thought him incapable of (albeit in a way that was more suited to him: in the sidelines, but not less valiant for that).
Burrich is one of my favorite characters and I was fascinated by the relationship between him and Fitz. He is a man of few words, strong and stoic, who cares deeply about Fitz but does not (cannot?) express it. I loved how Fitz always felt an anger and a violence bubbling under the surface on the part of Burrich, and mistook it for hostility - not yet able to comprehend that sentiments can be as sincere as contradictory. In the second book I grew to love him even more - he is so distant and guarded and yet he has some moments where his emotion just rushes through, raw and unstoppable.
I think Chade provides a very interesting parallel to Fitz in the story. Both being bastards of the royal family, they seem destined to lead a very well-defined and restricted life. Chade seems intent on giving Fitz the tools for a life better than his own and he blames him when he fails to grasp those opportunities (for example, he spites him for failing his skill training in Assassin's Apprentice). At the same time, whenever Fitz wants to break the mold and to think for himself instead of simply executing orders, Chade crushes those aspirations (while it is clear that had Chade taken initiative to weed the garden that is his family, had he done something to stop Regal’s behavior, things would have been much better). I think that if Fitz doesn’t manage to become something more, Chade will be relieved in a way - it will be proof that no royal bastard can excel and that therefore his life has not been wasted in vain. After Shrewd’s death and Verity’s uncertain fate, Chade’s life changes and he flourishes. He leaves the confines of the castle, and while still acting in line with his duty to the Farseer line, he manages to claim a life for himself - both by taking initiatives and doing what he sees fit, but also by having a personal life.
Fitz is a really interesting character to follow (and I must say that, apart from 1-2 moments where I rolled my eyes at his ignorance, I am absolutely baffled as to why some people consider him to be stupid). I really enjoyed his trajectory from being a lonely child desperately wanting to belong, to a young man trying to sort out his loyalties and accommodate some sort of personal space into the mess that is his life.
I found his storyline in the first book to be particularly heart-breaking: a small kid in need of a father-figure (one he searches for and one he is, in many ways, denied). His whole life is basically a result of his abandonment. He is backed into a corner and forced to the stealth lifestyle of the assassin. Then, in the second book , Fitz really came into his own: after visiting the mountain kingdom and seeing what it feels like to be treated with respect, he is more comfortable in his skin, more mature, he assumes the title of Chivalry’s (illegitimate) son rather than hiding away as a stableboy. He also seems to have embraced (at least in part) what his loyalty to Shrewd entails, and the fact that he will have to bring about change with the means he possesses, no matter how lowly and ignoble. At the same time, he tries exercising agency over his life and setting boundaries between his sworn fealty to the king and his need for a personal life. That part does not go that well : Fitz essentially has to / chooses to withhold important information from Molly, information that anyone would have liked to know about their significant other. So he gives her no choice, no say in this partnership - he is well intentioned for the most part, but there were also scenes that made me really uncomfortable and made me look past his supposedly “pure intentions” (Molly does not get a say about being in a relationship with a glorified murderer, she does not know that she sometimes has sex with Verity listening in on them / that Fitz has sex with her while experiencing Verity’s lust for Kettricken, or that a wolf is privy to their love life).
I found it particularly interesting that in the third book Fitz had the choice to actually embrace a simple life without the restrictions of loyalty. I believe that Fitz tries to navigate what it means to be loyal to someone, and who is worthy of such loyalty. Shrewd gave him a purpose, but he treated him like a tool, he did not inspire Fitz’s dedication with his kindness and noble nature. It was rather an allegiance imposed on the hungry-to-belong Fitz, an allegiance which grew stronger as Shrewd grew weaker and needed protection. I am under the impression that Burrich, while being a man who needed to be inspired by Chivalry in order to serve him, is now of the opinion that dedication and duty are important virtues in and of themselves because they give motivation and orientation. When Fitz finds himself in a position to make sacrifices for his kings, he is much more willing to do so for Verity, a man whom he loves and respects. It is a chosen loyalty, not an imposed one (although he still finds it difficult to live up to the expectations everyone has of him). At the end of the trilogy I cried for him. He has had to give up all that was dear to him, knowing that the people he loved had found peace and would be better off not feeling guilt and regret upon his reappearance. He finds himself alone and rudderless, without even someone to inspire him and give him drive. I was all the more horrified when Fitz dreams of carving a dragon, being tempted by Verity’s horrific fate. Is it because of the craving for the skill? Is it a weariness with life and a longing for self-destruction? I am not sure.
I appreciated that while Fitz definitely fits the bill of “the chosen one”, I not once thought of him as that while reading. His development is so slow and methodical that, by the time indices that he is inherently important show up, you almost fail to see how (everything up to that point seems organic and not at all contrived).
I also liked that this medieval and typically male-dominated world slowly revealed itself to be also a universe of women . From Hod, the expert at swordsmanship, to Molly and Patience, who show strength in a less flashy but equally impressive way, to Ketricken, who incarnates a leader at once fierce, dignified and empathetic, to Starling, the traumatized but determined minstrel, and Kettle. Among these, the eccentric Lady Patience has a special place in my remembrance of the book. What a difficult position she finds herself in. Hating Fitz, and seeing in him the live embodiment of her husband's betrayal - and at the same time seeing her deceased partner in him and imagining what would have happened if they had raised him despite his illegitimacy. Her desperate need to see him be successful in something was so endearing - to make sure that his abandonment has not made him less well-rounded than he could have been. I wanted her to be more present in book 2, I missed her and wanted more substantial interaction between her and Fitz, although of course her affection was always apparent. I was also glad to find out that when things got difficult she managed to inspire confidence and fealty in the remaining residents of Buckkeep - she who always felt like a fish out of water in settings like this.
Molly (or, to be more exact, her relationship with Fitz) was a bleak spot for me. Once their romantic relationship was established, I liked the repercussions on Fitz’s life - his split loyalties, his desperate attempt to bridge two parts of his life that are fundamentally incompatible and his questionable decision to keep Molly in the dark about several aspects (discussed above). However, I never really got why they liked each other, and their transition from friends did not seem that believable to me : Fitz was much more aloof in the first book and his sudden realization of his feelings gave me whiplash. The beginning of the second book seemed much more “domestic” - with the stakes shifting from Rurisk’s assassination and Regal’s ploy to overtake the throne to his pining about a childhood friend. I was worried that Molly and Fitz would be endgame, or that Hobb was presenting them as a legitimate love story. So I was actually relieved when Starling put Fitz on the spot about the intimate things he kept hidden from Molly, and vindicated when Kettle showed him that what they perceived as love was at best a respite from their chaotic lives (and at worst a tumultuous liaison, filled with the angst and the sense of emergency of youth). I also liked that Molly finally found what she’s been looking for (and what she’s been missing) by ending up with Burrich.
I was also quite ambivalent about Prince Regal . I felt that, overall, he was quite basic as an antagonist - there was not much depth to him other than the pretty obvious desire of a petulant and spoiled child to take over the throne. His role was to set the wheels in motion and to serve as a foil who allows Fitz and other characters to show their mettle and explore their allegiances. However I must admit, there was some progress in his character during the trilogy. At first he was just a stuck-up prince whom I had difficulty taking seriously, but he gradually got more menacing. He was careless, at times, but he really managed to weave a tight web around the other members of his family/ people he considered as adversaries. He progressively seemed much more capable - if not himself then at least of manipulating others and grasping the opportune moment to act.
C) Negative points
I would like to talk a bit about some objections I had with the 3rd installment of the trilogy (which is, by far, the weakest). After the initial segment (which tackles Fitz’s transition to a human life) Fitz finds himself needing to carve out his path in life and to figure out where his true allegiances lie. For the first time he can theoretically choose what will become of him without being manipulated by people in court. In trying to figure things out he sets out on a quest to hunt down Regal, and eventually to find Verity. And, boy, is it a quest (and not in a good way)! Fitz just wanders about for ¾ of the book, pondering the same things over and over, while the narrative barely moves forward. While I appreciated that Hobb did not go for a contrived narrative where the hero goes to all the right places and instantly finds what he is looking for, one has to think about the necessary compromises between authenticity and good editing for the sake of readability. I started the book with great enthusiasm, but I ended up slogging through a big chunk of the book (especially when Fitz’s interactions with other people are minimal, or just short and ephemeral).
I also didn't really like how the raiders issue was resolved. It made sense that we did not get a lot of information, given that the narrator stayed away from the actual fighting, but the explanations for the whole supernatural aspect were glossed over and the conclusion was a bit rushed. I hope that the issue will be addressed again in future books.
5 star - Perfect
4 star - i would recommend
3 star - good
2 star - struggled to complete
1 star - could not finish
4 star - i would recommend
3 star - good
2 star - struggled to complete
1 star - could not finish
I absolutely loved these books. The characters are amazing, Robin has written them with great depth. It was a great introduction to an interesting world and an even greater saga.
I was looking for a trilogy of 1990s-style (pre-Twilight, Hunger Games, Game of Thrones explosion) fantasy. One that was true to the genre with a few understated stereotypes and not too much predictability. This trilogy was exactly that.
ASSASIN'S APPRENTICE really sucked me in. Even though I don't generally like 1st person narration, Fitz told his story well in a (mostly) humble reflective voice that was easy to enjoy. The characters he interacts with are beautifully developed with strengths, weaknesses, and flaws on both sides of the story. I enjoyed every word of the first book.
ROYAL ASSASSIN was a book with more meat to it. The characters are mostly known, and Fitz is growing up. He is finding his place in the world, learning about love and friendship, and trying to define who he is. His rivals start to become his enemies and he starts to gain some confidence. The story also takes a darker turn here as the challenges he will face make themselves known.
ASSASSIN'S QUEST had a more emotional tone to it than the others. I confess that, in the beginning, I wasn't sure that I wanted to see where it would go because it started off so bleak. I made myself continue reading and was really glad I did. The final book in this trilogy doesn't disappoint.
I love the way Robin Hobb treats her characters. She doesn't put them in difficult situations without reason. She let's them grow and change, and she doesn't pull her punches. It makes them all seem so alive. Even her minor charters have personalities and stories that make them interesting and unique. I look forward to reading more of her books in the future. If you consider yourself a fan of the fantasy genre, you must read some of her works. She truly is an amazing talent.
ASSASIN'S APPRENTICE really sucked me in. Even though I don't generally like 1st person narration, Fitz told his story well in a (mostly) humble reflective voice that was easy to enjoy. The characters he interacts with are beautifully developed with strengths, weaknesses, and flaws on both sides of the story. I enjoyed every word of the first book.
ROYAL ASSASSIN was a book with more meat to it. The characters are mostly known, and Fitz is growing up. He is finding his place in the world, learning about love and friendship, and trying to define who he is. His rivals start to become his enemies and he starts to gain some confidence. The story also takes a darker turn here as the challenges he will face make themselves known.
ASSASSIN'S QUEST had a more emotional tone to it than the others. I confess that, in the beginning, I wasn't sure that I wanted to see where it would go because it started off so bleak. I made myself continue reading and was really glad I did. The final book in this trilogy doesn't disappoint.
I love the way Robin Hobb treats her characters. She doesn't put them in difficult situations without reason. She let's them grow and change, and she doesn't pull her punches. It makes them all seem so alive. Even her minor charters have personalities and stories that make them interesting and unique. I look forward to reading more of her books in the future. If you consider yourself a fan of the fantasy genre, you must read some of her works. She truly is an amazing talent.
adventurous
emotional
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
adventurous
mysterious
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Cool nom de plume. It has a certain je ne sais quoi.
Loved this trilogy. Don't begrudge the sleep I missed reading it. Or maybe I only dreamed I read it?
Loved this trilogy. Don't begrudge the sleep I missed reading it. Or maybe I only dreamed I read it?