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A review by jgkeely
Swords and Ice Magic by Fritz Leiber
2.0
Leiber has shown himself capable of vibrant, clever, moody books, but he has lost his touch with age, as regrettably happens to many authors. Every creative mind has its peak, and Leiber has passed his. Though published as separate stories, the chapters of this book form one long, uninterrupted plot, lacking the variance in mood and style which marked his earlier collections.
His attempt to continue a single arc while publishing the chapters as stories is awkward, as Leiber constantly reminds us of characters and plot elements as if we were new readers, but can't seem to find an unobtrusive way to do so. Really, the reminders don't even feel necessary; they weren't in the loosely connected stories that mark his creative peak. He also reintroduces characters and events from several books ago, but oddly enough, rarely prefaces these with reminders.
I lamented the faltering of his once-strong women in the last book, and this one is worse. The first quarter shows a strange obsession with the protagonists' former relationships, culminating in the only example of a clip show I've ever seen in a novel. It would be perfectly natural for characters, as they grow older, to reminisce, or even to obsess over their past, but this is less about the characters' internal hang-ups than a parade of nude women who have lost their personalities.
Happily, we soon move on to the main plot, which starts promisingly with curious worldbuilding involving Death and his demesne. These light-hearted, long-form novellas only seems to grow more and more like Leiber's follower, Pratchett. But this plot is also left behind for an unrelated conflict on a faraway island, an isolated Thule that has little of the charm of Newhon.
Leiber goes off on rather involved asides about the cosmology of the world, with characters acting as encyclopedias, giving unwelcome Tolkienian details about how the stars are meant to work. This is a sudden departure from the Howardian mode, which prefers to reveal the world by small clues, as one might learn about Rome from numerous stories and historians.
The cosmology prefigures some interesting background details from Dungeons & Dragons, which has always been more Leiber than Tolkien or Howard. His portrayal of godhood, worship, and alternate worlds parallels Planescape, one of the most remarkable and unusual roleplaying settings. It's unfortunate that, in this case, the inspiration cannot live up to the idea it spawned.
The story's conclusion, despite a great deal of build-up, is strangely absent, departing not with a bang, but a whimper. The characters are strangely inactive, failing to solve problems and generally relying on literal Dei ex Machinae. The secondary characters have less personality than the last book, and the love interests are defined more by their appearance than by thoughts or decisions.
Leiber does occasionally find his voice, and there are some lovely and evocative passages, as well as exploration of archaic terms and structure, though I couldn't say if that is the result of greater fidelity in a modern edition to the original stories. But by and large, Leiber's dotage has shown an increasing lack of imagination and an almost total loss of the vivid characterization that marked the high water mark of the series.
The final remaining Lankhmar book continues this trend, stranding our heroes in their new, dull land and trading in adventure plots for meandering scenes and uninspired sex comedy. It doesn't lessen the achievement of the earlier books, but I'm glad I started at the beginning of the series, or I might have given up on Leiber altogether as simply another old man working chiefly in cliches and awkward chauvinist obsessions. He still isn't as dull or long-winded as some guilty parties of the genre, but it's sad to see a fruitful mind grow sere.
My List of Suggested Fantasy Books
His attempt to continue a single arc while publishing the chapters as stories is awkward, as Leiber constantly reminds us of characters and plot elements as if we were new readers, but can't seem to find an unobtrusive way to do so. Really, the reminders don't even feel necessary; they weren't in the loosely connected stories that mark his creative peak. He also reintroduces characters and events from several books ago, but oddly enough, rarely prefaces these with reminders.
I lamented the faltering of his once-strong women in the last book, and this one is worse. The first quarter shows a strange obsession with the protagonists' former relationships, culminating in the only example of a clip show I've ever seen in a novel. It would be perfectly natural for characters, as they grow older, to reminisce, or even to obsess over their past, but this is less about the characters' internal hang-ups than a parade of nude women who have lost their personalities.
Happily, we soon move on to the main plot, which starts promisingly with curious worldbuilding involving Death and his demesne. These light-hearted, long-form novellas only seems to grow more and more like Leiber's follower, Pratchett. But this plot is also left behind for an unrelated conflict on a faraway island, an isolated Thule that has little of the charm of Newhon.
Leiber goes off on rather involved asides about the cosmology of the world, with characters acting as encyclopedias, giving unwelcome Tolkienian details about how the stars are meant to work. This is a sudden departure from the Howardian mode, which prefers to reveal the world by small clues, as one might learn about Rome from numerous stories and historians.
The cosmology prefigures some interesting background details from Dungeons & Dragons, which has always been more Leiber than Tolkien or Howard. His portrayal of godhood, worship, and alternate worlds parallels Planescape, one of the most remarkable and unusual roleplaying settings. It's unfortunate that, in this case, the inspiration cannot live up to the idea it spawned.
The story's conclusion, despite a great deal of build-up, is strangely absent, departing not with a bang, but a whimper. The characters are strangely inactive, failing to solve problems and generally relying on literal Dei ex Machinae. The secondary characters have less personality than the last book, and the love interests are defined more by their appearance than by thoughts or decisions.
Leiber does occasionally find his voice, and there are some lovely and evocative passages, as well as exploration of archaic terms and structure, though I couldn't say if that is the result of greater fidelity in a modern edition to the original stories. But by and large, Leiber's dotage has shown an increasing lack of imagination and an almost total loss of the vivid characterization that marked the high water mark of the series.
The final remaining Lankhmar book continues this trend, stranding our heroes in their new, dull land and trading in adventure plots for meandering scenes and uninspired sex comedy. It doesn't lessen the achievement of the earlier books, but I'm glad I started at the beginning of the series, or I might have given up on Leiber altogether as simply another old man working chiefly in cliches and awkward chauvinist obsessions. He still isn't as dull or long-winded as some guilty parties of the genre, but it's sad to see a fruitful mind grow sere.
My List of Suggested Fantasy Books