Well-trod Paths: Thoughts on rereading Shannara

I decided to re-read Terry Brooks' Shannara series recently and have been picking my way through Sword of Shannara. I read the original trilogy somewhere in my tweens back during the last millennium, and my memories of the books have stuck around to influence my current game worlds.

I have always been especially taken by the post-post-apocalyptic setting of Shannara in which a medieval high fantasy world arises long after the collapse of a technologically advanced civilization. Shannara was a direct inspiration for the Gnossian ruins found in my homebrew D&D world. 

During my original read I recall the ancient technology aspects of Brook's world sneaking up on me as the books progressed. I was especially curious to know whether these elements were actually there from the beginning, or if they emerged as sort of an evolving backstory for the world. So far, the latter seems to be the case. I am well into Sword of Shannara, and while there is definitely talk of an ancient civilization destroyed by war, there has been little to suggest it was anything other than a high fantasy empire.

I was talking with one of my fellow fantasy nerds about re-reading the series the other day, and we agreed that as an adult with many of these stories under the belt, the plot of Sword of Shannara is incredibly on the nose. Mysterious magic user shows up out of nowhere to declare that a young, male nobody is actually "the chosen one" who alone can defeat the ubiquitous "dark lord". This is like the Ur fantasy trope, and Shannara does not try to hide or delay it in the slightest. Harry Potter, Red Wall, the Belgariad, The Wheel of Time and Fellowship of the Ring all at least make an attempt to establish the "normal" in the world to varying degrees before the ubiquitous stranger shows up to declare, "Yer a Wizard!" or whatever the chosen one's job title should be.

Shannara... no time for such establishing nonsense. The hero, Shea doesn't even have time to walk the last mile or two to his house before being accosted by the revelatory stranger AND overflown by the dark agents of the enemy. Of course, as a kid, I was oblivious to the wear on this particular expository thread. As an adult, it's causing eye strain from all of the rolling.

My dawning awareness of Shannara's particularly egregious hero arc did however, give me a wonderful character idea for a D&D campaign. I should note that this character would likely only work well as a PC rather than an NPC... and definitely only for someone comfortable being evil.

I think it would be hilariously wicked to play a wizard or other magic user who goes around convincing unsuspecting orphans and farm kids that they have been chosen by destiny to complete some epic quest. The wizard could bring them along as lackeys to do all the dirty work on an adventure until they inevitably meet their demise because they are not... in actuality... chosen. If timed right, this could leave the wizard fully spelled up to mop up where their patsy left off. As a PC, the wizard would of course need the cooperation of his/her adventuring party or... fellowship *wink, wink* in order to avoid blowing their cover. I suppose such a character might also work as an NPC, but probably couldn't directly target the heroes. I could definitely see a scenerio of adventurers being called upon to investigate mysterious disappearances of local children, all of whom seem to take leave of their senses and wander into the waiting jaws of some dragon or giant.

Anyway, I am continuing to pick my way through Sword of Shannara and really hope that the lack of nuance ends up being a first book thing and that the writing improves in later installations. I really love the concept behind the world, and really don't want to have it come crashing down like an ogre's club on a not-actually-chosen hero.

Hack & Slash

I always find it much easier to read for pleasure while on vacation than during my day-to-day life. Even during otherwise unscheduled times, like before bed or on weekends, letting myself relax enough to slip into a story often proves too challenging to sustain for more than 30 minutes or maybe an hour. On vacation, however, my outside distractions and stressors melt away and I can get. reading. done.

This past weekend, while staying at our friends’ vacation house, I finally managed to finish re-reading R.A. Salvatore’s Dark Elf Trilogy. Finishing the series proved to be more of a chore than I expected, mainly because this reading made me realize, Salvatore is a complete hack! His main characters have the depth of a kiddie-pool, being painted in broad strokes of arch-stereo-types. He attempts to add internal conflict, but it always comes across as superficial and one-sided.

Take Drizzt -Arguably the most famous literary character ever derived from a D&D universe. He

is a dark elf with a heart of gold. He fled his subterranean homeland when he realized his race’s moustache-twirling evil ways did not sit well with him. Drizzt’s inner-monologue constantly touches upon character dilemmas derived from his pariah status. He is an outcase on the surface where people can’t see past the color of his skin, as well as in his homeland because of the content of his heart. The trouble is, every time such a dilemma arises, Drizzt’s ultimate decision is immediately apparent to the reader. He will do the “right” thing. Period. Without fail. This is not helped by the fact that everyone around him proves infinitely reasonable, or very easily swayed. While traveling on a ship, the magic mask he is wearing is cut off, revealing his dark elf heritage. The sailors initial reactions of outrage and racist indignation quickly evaporate when one of them mentions that he helped defend the ship against pirates. No lingering resentment or mistrust. Just a complete change of heart among the ENTIRE CREW quicker than you can say, “A very special episode of Blossom.” Similar obvious fluctuations happen throughout the series with folks that Drizzt meets.

Salvatore’s dialogue and behavioral descriptions are similarly hackneyed. During a chase scene through a bath-house in a desert city, a grumbly-pumbly dwarven fighter slips into one of the baths. When his hulking barbarian companion lifts him dripping from the bath with his arms-crossed over his chest and a grumpy scowl on his face, the reader can’t help but add the laugh-track and sad trombone “wah-WAH” Nevermind that the guy they are chasing is getting away!

Finally, there are the naming conventions... oh, the names! “Dendybar, the evil wizard is one consonant and one vowel shift from “Candybar” Similarly, the super-intelligent ultimate-evil artifact from the first book is a crystalline entity known as Crenshinibon... I’d hate to meet the rest of the evil food court. There is even a dwarven General introduced in the epilogue to the series... his name? “Dagnabbit”... fer realz. Now, I’ve had my share of struggles with naming conventions, but seriously... stop thinking about food, or at least open a baby book or something!

That being said, after all tha raging, his books definitely have redeeming value. As a GM, I found myself inspired to jot down plot devices, character ideas and other game-related notes that were sparked by my readings. The man comes up with some great scenes! From a dragon’s lair where the beast is ultimately defeated by spearing it with a giant icicle knocked from the ceiling, to his description of the dwarf, Bruenor forging a magic warhammer, to the chaotic plane of Tartarus (Tartar Sauce?) which is nothing more than bridges of smoke, with no sky or ground. If you fall, you will eventually end up at your original spot. In a lot of ways, his books feel like the latest Hollywood hunk or starlet. There so pretty, just so long as they don’t open their mouths or try to act. Unfortunately, Salvatore’s usefulness as a source of inspiration only adds to my conflicted feelings about his books. I have the next series on my shelf. Should I attempt to read it? Does the inspiration offset the eye-rolling?