Review: The Blade Itself (The First Law: Book One)
“The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.” After reading these words, quoted from Homer, you can’t help but remember them while reading The Blade Itself, as virtually every character you meet happens to have several blades handy at all times. The Blade Itself is the opening book in the First Law trilogy by freshman author Joe Abercrombie. Chances are that, if you’re reading this review, you’ve already heard some of the buzz surrounding this novel: “incredibly accomplished,” “extremely impressive debut,” “funny, violent, and brilliant.” I have to agree with the word of mouth on this one: The Blade Itself is is an exciting book to read. This can’t be overstated; some fantasy novels are magical and otherworldly (Tolkien), some flashy and fun (Salvatore), and others meticulous and character-driven (McCaffrey); Abercrombie writes exciting, fun, funny, fresh fantasy. From the very first page, this book takes off at break-neck speed, with a violent and gritty action sequence that quickly demonstrates what the reader is in for. The entirety of the book is flashy, action-packed, and never boring to read.
The stable of characters may seem familiar to you at first: the merciless barbarian, Logen Nine-Fingers (also known by his more savage title “The Bloody Nine”), the showy swordsman and noble, Jezal dan Luthar, the dedicated captain, Colonel West, the vengeance-obsessed slave, Ferro, and the wise old wizard, Bayaz. These tried-and-true roles seem familiar, even safe at first glance, but Abercrombie hides suprises beneath the skins of the reliable caricatures we’re used to reading. The barbarian’s blood-soaked past and violent nature haunt his every dream, the showy swordsman is a thoughtless prig at best and a selfish coward at worst, and the wise old wizard most certainly isn’t the affable Gandalf/Dumbledore clone we’ve come to expect. Add to these characters one of the most fantastic protagonists I’ve ever seen in a fantasy novel: Sand dan Glokta, a former champion swordsman who has been tortured and mutilated until the only thing left is barely a man, now employed as an Inquisitor (what better torturer than someone who has spent time under the knife himself?) in service to the King, who is himself a doddering, senile shell of a man. Glokta is brilliantly written: self-loathing, bitter, sarcastic, and viciously funny. For being one of the least physically imposing characters in the entire book–his years of torture in an enemy prison have left him with only the weakest whispers of useful function–Glokta is also terrifying and dynamic. Every page with Glokta on it was a joy to read, and you’ll wish there was even more of him in the novel.
The world these characters populate is well-crafted and believable, although nothing resembling a map can be found anywhere in the book (or within the pages of the entire First Law trilogy, for that matter). This is definitely a wise choice by Abercrombie; not being forced to refer back to the front page for a map every time a new city or country name is first mentioned pleased me. The countries and nationalities that are mentioned seem familiar and easy to recognize, with names like Angland (England) and Gurkha (Turkey?) providing an easy reference to our own middle ages for cultural comparisons. Like Abercrombie’s decision to forego a map, the history of the world is cleanly presented, but largely in the background. You won’t have to wade through any ten-page sidebars, filled with world-building background juiciness; instead, the reader knows what the characters know, which is often just enough to get by. No glossary necessary.
From the first page’s dazzling opening (titled “The End,” by the way) to the novel’s bloody climax, expect to have a lot of fun with this book. Each chapter is short and to the point, and each character has an important and unique part to play. With such a diverse cast of characters (including several strong female characters, something that one might expect to be missing in such a violent piece of genre work), the action is always varied, and it’s fun to see the characters interactions with each other; I was shocked that all of the protagonists hadn’t murdered each other by the end of the first novel. The dialogue is sharp and I laughed out loud several times while wending my way through. However, when it comes to dialogue, a word of warning: the characters curse in what could be described as “modern” language, which was slightly jarring the first time I saw it on the page, though I accepted it as part of their language very quickly. The writing is as quick as the dialogue, and as gritty and dark as the world may be, the narrative never feels bogged down. All in all, this is a great book to read, and I highly recommend it, and the sequels (reviews to come!) promise to continue the excellent start made by The Blade Itself.
Plot: 9
Characters: 9
Action: 10
Writing: 9
Overall (not an average): 9.5/10