A review by bluestjuice
Legends by Robert Silverberg

4.0

I requested this book in order to read the first of the Dunk and Egg tales by George R. R. Martin. Typically I'm not very enthusiastic about anthologies, because they tend to be huge (meaning they take forever to read) and uneven (meaning I have to slog through boring stories in order to get to the ones I enjoy). Although this clocks in at 715 pages and therefore fills the first downfall, I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the stories contained herein. Most of them are actually pretty darn good. Since they are written by proclaimed masters in the world of fantasy literature, I suppose that shouldn't be surprising, but there you are.

"The Little Sisters of Eluria," by Stephen King: I haven't read anything from the Dark Tower series, so it surprised me a lot to see Stephen King heading up this collection of tales from fantasy greats. Nevertheless, based on this story, this particular set of books definitely leans more toward the fantasy than the horror, albeit a dark fantasy. The fantastic take on the American wild west is very different in flavor from the usual fantasy tropes and there is plenty of suspense in this short story. It definitely borders on paranormal, but didn't feel out of place here. I will probably not read the series, however, I enjoyed this story.

"The Sea and Little Fishes," by Terry Pratchett: I love basically everything Terry Pratchett has ever written, so you can't go wrong with a short story about Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg. This was tightly written and stood out among the other tales.

"Debt of Bones," by Terry Goodkind: I'm reasonably sure I haven't read anything from the Sword of Truth series before. If I have, it was in the lost years of my adolescence and I've since forgotten everything about them, ever. This was a well-written story, giving just enough exposition for the complicated setting, before stepping back and letting the characters and their motivations carry the tale. As the protagonist, Abby is more desperate than impressive, but her motherly anguish is very convincing. Zorander is more interesting as a character, and I got the idea (although maybe misguidedly) that he is a recurring character, where Abby probably is not.

"Grinning Man," by Orson Scott Card: When I was a teenager, I read most (all?) of the Tales of Alvin Maker, which are fantasy set in the beginning of the nineteenth century in the American eastern frontier (think a magical twist on Davy Crocket and Johnny Appleseed fables). The strength of these stories is in the way that Card manages to capture that larger than life 'fable' quality without trivializing it with the addition of magical elements. This story really worked in that regard: unfortunately, it's just not a style that appeals to me overmuch. It was well written, but I was unexcited about it.

"The Seventh Shrine," by Robert Silverberg: This was easily my least favorite of these stories, or at least, the one I complained the most about. Written by the anthology's editor, it smacked a bit of having been given a more delicate hand, either included because he wanted to include some of his own work, or just in need of a vigorous editing by someone with less vested interest. (As a disclaimer, I've never heard of this author or read his full-length books: it's fully possibly he is actually as well-known in the fantasy genre as the others included here, but it didn't seem so as a new reader.) For all that, I didn't dislike the story utterly. It linked archeology and a fantasy setting in an appealing way, and the plot itself was interesting. The part where it fell apart for me was that too much time was spent detailing the world (which had obviously been meticulously built) and explaining things that would already (I hope) have been obvious to fans of the series, but that seemed extraneous to someone reading this story on its own. There was a lot of backstory given, and references to characters who simply didn't need to be mentioned to carry this story forward. I understand the desire to give reference for long-standing fans, but it bogged this story down and did it a disservice. The author also suffered some from the fantasy failing of having overly burdensome 'fantasyesque' names for characters that are a distraction.

"Dragonfly," by Ursula K. Le Guin: I haven't read the Earthsea series, but I have heard of Ursula Le Guin, and reading this beautiful and deftly done story makes me wish I had read her full-length works a long time ago. Her characterization is refreshing and I wanted to read much more than I got.

"The Burning Man," by Tad Williams: I have absolutely never heard of this author nor the series he is known for. It's a vaguely Norman-esque world, from what I can gather, and although in some ways it seemed very 'ordinary' as a fantasy world, without a unique differentiating hook, at the same time I was struck by the realistic flavor. Rather than 'high fantasy,' it has a grittier feeling that suggests ancient Anglo-Saxon literature more than Tolkien. It was pretty good! I also can appreciate the lack of a classic fantasy happy ending.

"The Hedge Knight," by George R. R. Martin: I was so very excited when I came to this story! And it did not disappoint. Set 100 years or so prior to the action in A Song of Ice and Fire, it portrays the same world but a bit through a lens, as one tends to do when recounting history or legends. While it's not a perfect society, this story was by no means as ruthlessly raw as some of the famous moments from the full-length series. Dunk is just a little bit more honorable than one might expect, Egg is just a little bit more plucky (and lucky), and although there is tragedy as well, there is something hopeful about the ending. I keep waiting for some character who appears in the series to make an appearance - but the story honestly stands on its own very well. Except I want to read more of them.

"Runner of Pern," by Anne McCaffrey: I was a devoted Pern affectionado as a teenager (who wasn't, right?), although I lost interest when the series skewed away from fantasy and became more sci-fi in flavor. This short story is charming, however, detailing the daily operations of the runner's craft (I really enjoyed the sociology of the Pern world and so this kind of thing is straight up my alley). The conflict is minor and easily resolved, there's a prominent love interest, and it's not really a meaty story in any sense. But it was an enjoyable little read and a flashback to my adolescent love affair with the world.

"The Wood Boy," by Raymond E. Feist: I have read (and liked) some Feist, but never the Riftwar Saga. This worked pretty well because the overall frame of the world and it's conflict was narrowed down to a specific story that relied more on characterization and familiar conflicts than on specific world knowledge. It wasn't important to know all about the invaders, and their goals and motivations - just knowing they were invaders was adequate to get on with the rest of the story. It was well written, if not a favorite.

"New Spring," by Robert Jordan: Forever I am hearing that I should read the Wheel of Time. Honestly, it's a daunting prospect and this story didn't make me feel as though I -must- read it, although it was well written and the plot was very interesting, despite managing to weave in very specific knowledge about unique cultural elements. I might dive in if I were convinced that the main characters continue to be important characters throughout.

As an aside, one wonderful thing about this anthology was that each story was prefaced by a two-page blurb about the world in which the full-length stories are set, including brief plot synopses and explanations of how the short stories fit into the plot. This was especially useful as a refresher for the series that I had read, but not recently, but was a very nice addition as a whole. They also included world maps for most of the worlds: although I generally found there was not much need to consult them in order to understand the stories, this was a very nice touch.