ethaisa

Just finished re-reading an old favourite, Blue Moon Rising by Simon Green. I like reading all sorts of fantasy novels -- high magic, low magic, epic quest, lost heir, light, dark, otherworld, lyrical, mythical, urban ... you name it, I can usually find something to enjoy in it. Sometimes it's pure fluff, turn-the-brain-off escapism, sometimes it's intricate plotting and well-simulated realism. Unfortunately, too much falls into the first category - character archtypes that are more cardboard cutouts than developed personalities, overused tropes and predictable, flawed plots with holes you could fly a dragon through. And when I get an overdose of the latter, I turn to books like Blue Moon Rising.

The Hero rides a unicorn. The Heroine doesn't. Neither is she meek or mild or hesitant about voicing her opinion or so deeply traumatized that she spends half the book bewailing her fate. The Dragon collects butterflies, not gold and gems ("they're just as pretty, aren't they?"). Armour is heavy, weather happens, supplies run out, it takes weeks, if not months, to get from point A to point B, horses get tired or run away, not all wounds can be healed by magic, the brave hero gets scared, the beautiful witch isn't, the greatest warlock in the land is a drunk, the court is filled with nobles who aren't all that noble and the cold, older brother-prince may not be a nice guy but he'll make a great king.

Odd how sometimes a dose of reality makes fantasy so much the better.