Ellen Kushner

On the treacherous streets of Riverside, a man lives and dies by the sword. Even the nobles on the Hill turn to duels to settle their disputes. Within this elite, dangerous world, Richard St Vier is the undisputed master, as skilled as he is ruthless- until a death by the sword is met with outrage instead a of awe, and the city discovers that the line between hero and villain can be altered in the blink of an eye . . .

Swordspoint

Sarah Escorsa

⚔️ My My What A Big Swashbuckling Fantasy Rip-Off We Have Here Buddy Read (MMWABSFROWHHBR™) with my fellow inmates at the Scarlet Citadel That Was But Is No Longer ⚔️

Okay, so I said pretty much everything I had to say about this delightful masterpiece in my fascinating pre-review down there ↓↓, but I'm afraid (for you, not for me) that some things must be expanded and analyzed and stuff, so here goes. 

Let’s see, this book is supposed to be a Fantasy Classic. Everyone following me so far? Good. Because it’s not. A Fantasy Classic, I mean. Okay, so maybe it is a Classic. Well to some people who read the book very wrong it obviously is. But Fantasy? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh my dear shrimp, I laughed so hard I nearly almost dislocated my exoskeleton. Phew, that was close. But I digress. Okay, so when I started reading this book, I expected Swashbuckling Fantasy. As in a story rife with swords, magic and quite possibly adorable pets such as dragons and the like. You know, something more or less like this:

 

Hey, I said more or less, okay?

So. No bloody magic + no bloody dragons (or even moderately vaguely supernatural creatures of any kind) + not even, I don’t know, something as basic as a screwed up planetary system with two suns and three moons and stuff = no bloody shrimping Fantasy! This is an outrage and stuff! This book is fiction, plain and simple. (Call it Alternate History if you’re feeling terribly bold and audacious and want to stretch things a bit further.) And Super Extra Boring Fiction (SEBF™) at that. But more on that later. 

Now, I’m in a particularly benevolent mood today, so I will most graciously tell you how and why this came to be classified as Fantasy: Fishy Publishing Shenanigans Inc, of course! Get that: it turns out Ellen Kushner initially tried to sell her story as a work of fiction (you know, fiction as in FICTION). Only that she never got anywhere. Enter a publisher/editor (who should be glad I forgot his name otherwise I would most certainly have unleashed the murderous crustaceans on him) who convinces Kushner to have the book marketed and released as Fantasy. And bingo! A star rip-off is born! Yay and stuff!



Okay, the good news is (brace your little selves for this might come as a shock), there are actually swords in this book. I kid you not. As for swashbuckling, well, there’s lots of endless talk about swashbuckling, yes. And a couple of guys vaguely train to become Super Extra Good Swashbuckling Types (SEGST™). Which is kinda sorta a total waste of their boring time since they don’t get to do any actual fighting. Well maybe one of them does. Once. And he’s such a gifted, badass SEGST™ that all he has to do is wave his sword around a bit (not too much, he wouldn’t want to overexert himself) and, tada! Everybody scrams! As if by magic and stuff! Which would make this book Fantasy, which it is not, so it is not.

Anyway, the disgusting truth is, I could have gotten over my initial discombobulation upon discovering both the non-Fantasy fantasy and non-Swashbuckling swashbuckling aspects of this book, and ended up liking it (a little. Maybe). Yes, I most definitely could have. Had the story had been original, fun, entertaining, and generally enjoyable. But it wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t, and generally, it wasn’t. So I didn’t. (I’m beginning to think my 2-star rating is a horribly generous one, just so you know.)

So what was this book like, you ask? Apart from dull, uninteresting, and a total snoozefest, you mean? I don’t know, one of the most soporific, failed comedy melodrama of manners ever, maybe? Yeah, I guess you could say that. The lack of both originality and complexity of the world is confounding. The plot, with political schemes and devious ploys galore, had the potential to be deliciously delicious. But it was confusing, contrived and badly executed, so it wasn’t. Deliciously delicious, I mean. Oh, and by the way, Ms Kushner, for help with your everyday scheming and backstabbing scenes, you might want to call 1-800-Devious-Bastards-R-Us, the Glen Cook emergency hotline. 



Let’s see, what else? Oh, yes, the most endearing characters. They are flat, one-dimensional, and unlikeable as fish. And the most headache-inducing bunch of blabbermouths in the history of headache-inducing bunch of blabbermouths. Why this book doesn’t come with an XXL pack of extra-strength aspirin is one of the greatest mysteries of our time, if you ask me. Anyway, the strange thing about the characters is that they all seem to be one and the same, as if the author had created one character, and cloned it to infinity. Which wouldn’t be a problem if said characters were even moderately charismatic. But (you should know how this goes by now) they weren’t, so they weren’t.

Now. We come to what must be one of the weirdest things about this book. The portrayal of homosexuality and bisexuality. First, it’s fairly cartoonish and heavy-handed (which might have something to do with the fact that this book was published in the late 1980s, and was one of the first of its kind to feature homosexual characters extensively). And second, all the men in the story are either homosexual or bisexual, while all the women are heterosexual. Which makes me feel kinda sorta…



Now if someone would mercifully explain to me if there is a reason for that, and if such is the case, what said reason might possibly be, I would be most full of grate. So thank thee kindly in advance and stuff.

➽ Nefarious Last Words (NLW™): want to read actual, gloriously glorious swashbuckling material? Pick up any bloody shrimping classic in the genre: The Three Musketeers, Scaramouche, The Prisoner of Zenda, Captain Blood, etc. Want to read fun, exciting M/M Historical Fantasy Romance (or is it Historical M/M Fantasy Romance? Or Historical Fantasy M/M Romance? I forget)? Read The Magpie Lord. Want to be thoroughly entertained? Read pretty much any book but this one. Even PNR will do. Or Paranormal YA Historical Romance. Get it? Good. I rest in my case and stuff.



[Pre-review nonsense]

① Is this Fantasy? Nope.

② Is this original? Nope.
 
③ Is this entertaining? Nope.

④ Are any of the characters even moderately likeable? Nope.



⑤ Is this a clichéd as fish comedy of manners? Yep.

⑥ Is this the cure for insomnia? Yep.

⑦ Is every single character flatter than my favorite herd of ironing boards? Yep.

⑧ Is the fact that only the male characters in the story are gay/bisexual while all the women are heterosexual as shrimp Super Extra Weird (SEW™)? Yep. 

⑨ Is doing Look Ma No Hands Push-Pups (LMNHPU™) wayyyyyy more titillating than reading this book? Oh hell yeah.



➽ Full review to magically appear post haste and stuff.

In this collection which includes a novel and three short stories, the great swordsman Richard St. Vier is forced to become involved in a plot to gain control of a nameless city where elegance and decadence coexist.

Swordspoint

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