Customer Reviews

The Darkness That Comes Before: The Prince of Nothing Book I

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Freud the Sorcerer: My Review of The Darkness that Comes Before by Scott Bakker.

Plot: The story of The Darkness that Comes Before is not easily summed up. There are many factions both political and religious, and many characters including princes, mages, warriors and a prostitute, all of whom get wrapped up in the preparations of a Crusades-like Holy War to capture the holy city of Shimeh. Comparisons between the actual Crusades and the attempt to capture Jerusalem are hard to ignore, although Bakker doesn't seem to be making any allegorical statements; rather, he uses history as a reference and blueprint, including mention of the Holy Shriah, who could be compared to the Pope. Meanwhile, there is a "barbarian" named Cnair Urs Skiotha who becomes the last of the Utemot tribe after he is betrayed in battle, and he decides to seek revenge on the man he feels responsible, the father of a mysterious wanderer named Kellhus, who, through powers of psychological observation and a philosophy that "what comes before determines what comes after" (apparently this guy never heard of Jean Paul Sartre), can manipulate people's thoughts and passions to benefit his own purposes.

Pros:

Scott Bakker proves himself a master of the English language and writes in a superb, poetic style that is never overbearing or pretentious. His style relies on short sentences that never become too convoluted or distracting, and some quite brilliant and original uses of metaphor. I found myself enjoying many of his descriptive passages, though infrequent, and his battle scenes are fast-paced and thrilling (I only wished there were more of these). The plot is interesting overall; keeps you guessing and avoids many overused clichés.

Cons:

I may be a bit prejudiced reviewing this kind of book, since I tend to prefer the more "fantastical" type of fantasy. There were times when I just wished something crazy would happen just to throw me off guard, but The Darkness that Comes Before reads a lot like a pseudo-history. You could easily read whole chapters without finding an inkling of the fantastic. I do enjoy reading history, but when I pick up a fantasy book I expect certain elements of the story to be, well, fantastic. If you are the type of reader that enjoys the more realistic, nearly real-world type fantasy, than this one is for you.

I was also a bit annoyed by the pacing of the story. I am a big fan of the media-res technique and use it often in my own writing, but Bakker relies too heavily on this technique. If a plot normally progresses from A to D, Bakker will tell you all about B, while hinting at what happened at A and C, then move onto D while going into greater depth about B. It's a little disorientating.

My biggest gripe, however, is that the entire book seems to happen inside the character's heads. The perspective shifts from character to character, many of whom we don't know very well or don't care much about, and then huge passages become devoted to their thoughts. The dialogue is clever and unpredictable, but I don't need a commentary on every single line spoken. It's almost like watching a movie for the first time with the audio-commentary on. Sometimes I just wanted to read the dialogue and make my own assumptions.

This is one of those books serves as a setup to a sequel. I believe that books need to stand on their own merit, so I was a bit disappointed to find myself with many unanswered questions.

Overall Assessment:

Overall, I felt this was an accomplished debut novel by newcomer Scott Bakker, and I think the author has a lot to offer the genre. I just hope that in the future, he focuses more on story and a bit less on character.

Nick Alimonos

Author of The Dark Age of Enya

Please visit: http://emmaxis.com

Bakker's fantasy series was years in the making which is apparent to anyone who manages to read through the (currently) 3 novels in the series. With the exception of the prologue, the reader is thrown mind-first into a the largely realized world of Eärwa where factions, theories, philosophies, histories and dogma abound.

Bakker does not treat his reader delicately. Very little in the book is simplified or overexplained. Those looking for a book with introductions and pages of explorative narration would best turn elsewhere; Eärwa is on the verge of an Apocalypse, it has no time to accommodate the reader.

Bakker himself has admitted the book is almost meant to be twice read and that if he could do things differently, he would have offered more chapters for the reader to associate themselves with Kellhus, the central figure the trilogy revolves around.

Despite the complexity and shadows thrown long across the narrative, Bakker is a deft hand at bringing personal feelings and drama through the mouths and minds of his characters.

If you're willing to check the appendix and maps on occasion, you'll find yourself quickly immersed in this wild and wondrous world.

This was an amazing book, beautifully written, full of original fantasy and incredible depth. Kellhus, the descendant of an ancient line of forgotten kings, is called to the holy city of Shimeh by his father, for mysterious reasons. They are both of the Dunyain, an order of supremely logical monks who are trained to silence all their emotions; they have no real magic, but training has given them some neat abilities, including incredible skills as warriors, the capacity of reading men's minds by the nuances of their tones of voice/facial expressions, and calculating the future by means of a probability trance. They can manipulate others so easily that it's sometimes referred to as possession.

Although Kellhus is the first real protagonist of the novel, he disappears for most of the book after his relatively brief introduction. Mainly we follow the doings of Achamian, a spy and a sorcerer who is searching for signs of the Consult, the evil force responsible for the apocalypse two-thousand years before. Most fantasy writing has the *feel* of some particular culture or time period (e.g. medieval, prehistoric, Asian, Western, etc.). This book feels Middle Eastern and a little Asian, and is reminiscent of both the Bible (Old and New Testament) and the Crusades; a new prophet is inciting a Holy War to reclaim the holy city of Shimeh while in the background, Achamian begins realizing that the second Apocalypse may already be unfolding.

Like a lot of epic fantasy, this book has a huge number of names and made up words. There are tons of characters (historical and present), different peoples, tribes, kingdoms and schools. It makes the world seem more majestic, but some might find it tiring. The events detailed are big rather than small; this isn't the tale of a single man's quest for greatness or self knowledge or anything like that. It's a fun read, but it isn't really a light or an easy read. It's also not a *flashy* fantasy book; there's much more plotting and intrigue here than real magic. Those who like fantasy books that focus on some central character gradually coming into his/her powers from an early age might not find it to their tastes. In the realm of epic fantasy, however, it's superb.

When this was first published, the book jacket said Bakker was working on a PhD in philosophy. I wonder if he intended to submit this as his dissertation. In any event, surely this answers the age old question: what in the world are you supposed to do with a doctorate in philosophy? Why silly, write spectacular fantasy fiction, of course!

I just finished reading the trilogy the second time. And during a long drive home last weekend, I thought about them. Then I thought about their meaning. Then I thought about crime. About damnation. About salvation. About the soul. And then I thought to myself: considering that I'm a die hard atheist, this is amazing! Granted, part of the rumination was about trying to figure out the plot and characters of the book, but since the book is far from just a whodunit, the contemplation cannot help but to also be about these very weighty concepts themselves as applied outside the book in the real world and real history. And I can say with absolute certainly that I have never thought about these or similar things when reading Martin or even Tolkien.

We know high fantasy is about worldbuilding, plot, and characters. I guess the question Bakker tries to answer is this: can it also be about ideas? What's Tolkien's idea? Better to fight and die than serve an evil dark lord? (by the way, I have ordered a Chorae, the Phial of Galadrial, and some obsidian arrowheads from eBay, so I'm not afraid of blaspheming you Tolkien! Ha!) What's Martin's idea? Make sure you end up on the winning side of a dynastic struggle if you want to keep your head on your shoulders? Thin gruel, to be sure. Prince of Nothing can go toe to toe with any of them on worldbuilding, plot, or character. But it also adds a very thick, hearty serving of religio-philosophical soup. Sure, some people are put off by that. But I say to them: this is no bait and switch. I know you signed up for sword and sorcery, and there is indeed more than enough of that here to satisfy even the most demanding appetite: from the malevolent Ark-Of-The-Sky to the marvelous concept of jnan, from the sandy and bloody Holy War to horrifyingly relentless rise of the Warrior-Prophet, from the heartbreakingly mad barbarian Cnaiur to the exquisitely tormented sorcerer Akka. It has got all of that and more you can hope for.

But Bakker should be given credit for more than this. Like all great literature, Prince of Nothing is something to be appreciated on multiple levels. He should be given credit for writing about grand and deep ideas. This is a work with another dimension. It opens up with an enigmatic quote from Nietzsche. On the very first page, it gives a provocative definition of the soul. Just on the very first three pages, it presents two different views on the nature of crime, each profound in its own way. Before the prologue is over, you have already sat through the first psychoanalytic session in the book. Near the end of the first volume, it describes a terrifyingly realistic meditation exercise that scrubs the mind clean, and prepares it to steer and maneuver to come before. And before it's all over, here I am, pondering about crime, damnation, salvation, and the soul.

There can be no doubt: Prince of Nothing is a work of high fantasy of the first order.

p.s.: I don't know why some people keep referring to Kellhus as some sort Nietzschean Overman/Superman. I guess it's because of the quote from Nietzsche at the beginning of the book. But according to Nietzsche, the Overman has to be a passionate being. Kellhus has no passion.

This man is daring.

His work hinges very heavily on the use of specific literary techniques, most commonly "in media res" scene-framing. He changes the kind of writing here and there in the book, jumping from a poetic prologue worthy of a creation myth; to stirring intrigues and action sequences; to a sort of world-narrative in which he describes events from a history book's perspective in lieu of a narrative protagonist.

His liberal use of the Byzantine Empire and other historical events (especially the First Crusade, of course) is very hard to miss; while reading, I actually found myself thinking of Larry Gonick's comic dramatization of the Crusades in his "Cartoon History of the Universe" series.

I have to admit, Bakker could stand to tie his work together a little bit more; the prologue is, what, a thousand years before Chapter One? And Chapter Two is the first of several POV-switches, which would be confusing if they didn't all distantly connect, at least in their associations. The Holy War, thankfully, lashes them together a second time over, ensuring that every chapter is a different perspective on world events.

The man is a fantastic writer, getting into the meat of his characters' fears, passions, and thought patterns in a way that feels effortless. Characters are deeply motivated, with as much pride and self-importance as the most conceited despot; they are easy to relate to, but full of nuance and detail.

To address a couple of criticisms I've seen repeated on these message boards: the darkness issue and the women issue.

Yes, come to think of it, Bakker has about as many roles for women as a Frank Miller comic (i.e. nearly zero). But the difference is crucial: they feel like real people, with concerns and complicatedness that far surpasses the sort of flatness and pulp-comic stereotyping seen in the vast, VAST majority of both science fiction and American writing in general.

As far as darkness is concerned, I'm claiming the historical fiction defense! Bakker has the same level of obsession with the Crusades that George Martin has for the War of the Roses; and anyone who studies history long enough will know just how horrible and demented civilizations can be, especially when their interests conflict. Personally, I think there are times when such dark material as this (though Martin is worse, no question) needs to be set down so I can go watch cartoons and clear my head, but this is a far cry from, say, "Johnny the Homicidal Maniac". Few of the characters take anything like pure pleasure from the terrible things they do, as much of the book consists of people talking out their dilemmas and convincing themselves that they have no other options.

Case in point: before the battle between the People of War and the Empire, the People of War's best chieftains spend several pages debating strategy, cultural myth, and personal honor, as it relates to the timing of their attack on the Imperial forces. These are not Frank Miller monsters, who gleefully hack apart their foes; these are human beings who see the violence they commit as either their duty (civic or religious; it varies) or the only option afforded them.

As for the women, well, history has not been kind to women, either.

All in all, Bakker is a fantastic, if sometimes slightly unfocused, writer; he seeks veracity in his work without making it depressingly (or obsessively) dark and deadly; and his head is so filled with details for this world he's created that one can't help but wonder if Earwa is a place he's visited in some sci-fi parallel dimension.

I was a little slow getting around to reading R. Scott Bakker's the Darkness That Comes Before, the first book of his Prince of Nothing Trilogy (which, from what I understand, is the first trilogy of three in a series). But I sure am glad that I picked it up. The Darkness That Comes Before is one of the most refreshing, interesting and entertaining books in the fantasy genre that I have read in a long time.

The book's plot is a more magical take on the crusades. A powerful religious leader calls for a holy war against the heathen and seemingly the entire "civilized" world joins. Although the underlying plot is based on the crusades, that plot is really more of a backdrop to the real focus of the story. More than anything, the Darkness That Comes Before is about Bakker's characters - the plot merely serves as a vessel through which to portray the characters. Although it's difficult to nail down a protagonist, given the number of different viewpoints, the focus really revolves around Kellhus, a sort of philosopher/warrior monk, and how he manipulates the formation of the holy war to serve his uncertain purposes.

Kellhus is, actually, my biggest complaint with the novel. He's too good at pretty much everything. And I suspect that this trend will continue into future books. He's an amazing warrior, he's smarter than everyone else, he has the ridiculous ability to ascertain thoughts based on the most subtle physical reactions, he is a master manipulator. Although Kellhus's abilities are not strictly explained, there are undertones of genetic engineering, selective breeding and life-time training which do lend a slight air of believability to Kellhus's ridiculous talents. But believability aside, well, too-perfect characters just annoy me. Insofar as he probably is not a particularly good person, he's no Mary Sue. But it's hard for the reader to doubt that Kellhus will succeed in everything that he tries. And given that he's the focal point of the story, it takes away a lot of the suspense.

The other characters, however, are much more human and much more enjoyable. Achamian, the sorcerer, is probably the most realistic of all the characters. Despite having tremendous power and a high level of intellect, he's getting old and weary and, more importantly, he realizes it. Cnaiur is a barbarian, one of the Scylvendi, who are considered blasphemers and heathens. But somehow, he, too, gets caught up in the holy war. Although Cnaiur has some of the stereotypical qualities of a barbarian (a love of battle, incredibly violent nature, lack of respect for women, etc.), he's also rather intelligent and, indeed, probably sees through Kellhus better than any other character.

My only real complaint with the list of characters is that while there is great variety and depth to the male characters, the female characters' primary role seems to be sex-related. Esmenet, one of the three main point of view characters, is a whore. It seems that Serwe (who, incidentally, is an extremely annoying character) does nothing more than have sex and fawn over Kellhus. The Empress is constantly described as using sex to serve her ends. And these three are really the only female characters, certainly the only female characters of import. Given the time period that Bakker is trying to portray, it is reasonable that the female characters would have little influence beyond sex. But female readers may be a little put off.

Other than that, Bakker is a very solid writer. He writes very detailed descriptive phrases that manage to explain without overburdening the reader with every minute detail. His dialogue is generally pretty realistic though it does, at times, seem a little over the top. Bakker has a background in philosophy, and the influence is obvious. There are frequent bouts of philosophical rumination, some rather mundane, some surprisingly fitting and insightful. When most fantasy authors try to get existential, so to speak, they tend to come off as silly. Bakker actually pulls it off. But what I really appreciate about Bakker's work is that it actually makes the reader think a little bit. I don't mean that it makes you think like an Erickson book makes you think ("hmm... didn't he mention that character once 800 pages ago?). Bakker provides some very poignant commentary on religion, humanity, philosophy, etc. And of course, he does all this while still producing a very entertaining and engaging story, rife with political maneuvering and war and bloodshed. There is a strong air of the demonic in the novel which, I suppose, might put some people off. Other than the demonic, however, there is surprisingly little magic used (particularly surprising given that one of the main characters is a sorcerer).

The Darkness That Comes Before probably warrants a 4.5/5, but since I think it's unfair to give an author a rating less than he warrants, I'll have to give him a 5 instead of a 4 (Amazon, please allow .5 star ratings). The book is a remarkable beginning. Bakker offers something different than the vast majority of fantasy authors. He offers a realistic world, populates it with a wide array of people, religions, cultures, beliefs, and manages to keep things relatively straight. Although Bakker throws you in with no background information, after the first 30 pages or so, I never really had difficulty keeping track of the various characters, factions, nations, etc. I've seen a lot of reviewers compare Bakker to Steven Erikson, probably because they're both Canadian and both have built incredibly complex worlds. But, personally, I greatly prefer Bakker. I was bored out of my mind while reading the first Malazan book. I was utterly enthralled by the Darkness That Comes Before. I can't wait to keep reading.

I acquired this book in a way that's becoming a historical curiosity: it was `hand sold' to me by a fellow working at Berkeley's Dark Carnival bookstore. I asked him for the most sophisticated recent epic fantasy and this is one of the two books he pointed out, saying that there was a lot of buzz about it. I found myself having mixed feelings about it.

For better or worse, this book is rather like the original Dune series, so if you're disappointed with the explosion of prequels, side-quels and completions co-authored by Frank Herbert's son and Kevin Anderson, you might find this more to your liking.

This volume is basically an epic fantasy take on the Crusades. This is a logical place to situate a Herbert-like fantasy series: several years ago, I started reading up on the history of Byzantium and I kept thinking, "Is it just me or am I reading a precursor to Dune? I've never heard anyone say that Herbert had an interest in the Byzantine Empire but this is uncanny."

Bakker's writing style is rather similar to Herbert's. It's historical, ponderous and philosophical. Plus there are some direct nods, like `skin-spies' for Facedancers. And Bakker apes some distinctive features of Herbert's writing, like having pseudo-historical quotes at the beginning of chapters and putting direct thoughts in italics. Is this a good thing? Well, Frank Herbert ain't writing anymore books. On the other hand, while his novels represented a quantum shift in the conception of what science fiction/fantasy could be and were central to my childhood, the passage of time has been tough on his writing style. (I remember reading an essay in Locus several years ago by someone looking back at Dune for the first time in a long time. They found the writing wanting. I was indignant reading it, but I started to reread Dune Messiah and had to concede that they were right.)

Like Herbert, Bakker goes into dazzling cultural detail. Bakker's world was not created in a day. For people who like well thought out worlds, they'll be suitably impressed, though there's no equivalent to the ecological awareness of the Dune series: no spice, no terraforming, etc.

What makes me hesitant to keep reading, however, is the characterization. Like many other space opera/epic fantasy series, the characters, despite the diversity of their origins and social positions, are all cut from the same power-hungry mode. They're all scheming -- plans within plans -- and have (rather casually) killed people. They are very serious. (There's exactly one joke in the book, on page 467 in the paperback. It's pretty good.) There is no equivalent of, say, Samwise Gamgee, who responded to the opportunity to seize the One Ring with "Thanks but no thanks". And as one of the one-star reviewers noted, the portrayal of women leaves a lot to be desired. Because of these things, I found myself intrigued by the world but not particularly caring about the characters. And going through numerous volumes without a particular interest is the characters... that could be a slog. It's just political games followed by political games.

I resisted this one for a while. The cover, the title, the quotation from Nieztche (which, despite what some other reviewers may claim, does not automatically make a series "pretentious" - that word alone warning enough to the discriminate consumer that the content articulated may not be understood--)... in short, there seemed to be a deliberate campaign on the part of the publisher to make this book seem 'dark'. Given the chaff of most mainstream horror icons propagated these days - necro-cool for necronerds, and most of it as stinky as a three-day old corpse - I shied away, allowing this book to molder on the reading-shelf for far too long.

Eventually, encouraged by web reviews and interviews, I opened the text to *The Darkness that Comes Before* and within the scope of a few pages found myself ensorcelled by the style and internal content, by the suggestions the author placed between ideas, between words. In contrast to the escapist dross of most mainstream fantasy, this book establishes itself from the first few sentences as something *more* than the latest wish-fulfillment wankfest. Obviously influenced by the pantheon of the Western Canon and the ever-evolving paradigms of philosophy, R. Scott Bakker crafts a believable and haunting world inhabited by violent men and blasphemous creatures, a tactile sphere where ignorance, gross materialism and fervid superstition dominate the mass-mind and only a miniscule few are aware of the threat that lurks on the margin of the outside...(no matter the era, the same condition applies...)

Enter the Übermensch. Bakker inserts a `superman' into this shadowy mirror of our own past, an amoral pro/an-tagonist sent to contort this Dark Ages domain, gliding like a wolf amongst lambs, his goal to conquer the seething morass of a Holy War for his own Oedipal ends. Kellhus Anasurimbor exists without emotion or creed or cause, except for the Logos--the shortest path--to achieve his goals; Kellhus is both hero and villian, and the fact that some readers feel as if Bakker intended this character to be ;sympathetic' misses the point (and then some). The superman is intrinsically *not* human, dictated neither by the drives or desires of the human ken, but by his own will and - as beautifully depicted in the climax of this book - by the 'darkness that comes before', the influential energies that mold developing minds before they reach any sort of independent conception; the synergetically-shared consensus that forms the *is* for all and one.

A feedback loop is drawn through an assortment of characters both familiar and refreshingly drawn - Kellhus, for all his detached glamour, is not the true `tagonist of this book, nor perhaps the series, despite his manipulations and inevitable dominance of the plot. Rather, the author focuses on those the savior-simulacra interacts with: a self-conscious sorcerer-spy, an insane barbarian with a dirty secret (slyly reverting the Conan stereotype) and a pair of whores, one sympathetic, the other pathetic. These characters inhabit a world postivily overwhelming with entropy, a tapestry from which, between the frayed seams, a greater saga can be occasionally percieved.

This a dark book, a dark series, the atmosphere palpable with murder and ancient malice, infused with the multifold fetishes and pathological drive of both the human-all-too-human miasma and, intriguingly, the alien impulses of those trapped in a world-as-prison. Rape, genocide, child abuse, incest--all are harrowingly described--though never utilized as simply shock-exploitation caricature a la the Fraudkind. Bakker quotes Cormac McCarthy's *Blood Meridian* at the beginning of *The Thousandfold Thought*, and a comparison is apt: just as McCarthy redrew the cowpoke myths of the `wild west' as a brutal domain of kill or be killed, romance shorn before the bone-dust whiff of a more concrete and disturbing reality, so in turn does *the Prince of Nothing* harshly inverse the medieval fantasy of ivy-garlanded castles and fair maidens, noble knights and loyal serfs: this is not a fantasy that one can escape into, but rather a fantasy that exposes what we escaped *from*.

And therein may lay the difficulty some readers (and certainly some reviewers) will have with *tDtCB*. This is not a pleasant book, and those of strong religious foundation will probably feel intense dislike for aspects presented (though the third volume certainly introduces an interesting twist to the borderline-atheistic conceit of the Dunyain) and it contains horror of such subtle/brutal nature that those of fragile constitution need not apply. There were parts where I nearly dropped the book in shock, and my threshold is fairly high. But, on the other hand, *tDtCB* is extremely well written (the labor took over a decade, and the prose shows) and more importantly, it brims with ideas, challenging the reader to look beyond the surface, peer beneath ...

Highly recommended.

This book is all background to what may happen in the next two books.

The plot is all over the place and it doesn't seem until the last 250 pages that the author knows where he wants to go with the story and finally concentrates on the most interesting characters.

I recommend the book as a good opener for the next two books(...)

Hopefully, the next two books are less background and more substance.

A few unique and very interesting characters (especially khellus who sadly disapears for a lot of the book) make the book worth while, but dont mistake this for George RR Martin....yet.

Simply, this is a good book. Vast new world, peopled with complex and different characters. Very dark and gritty. As the other reviews have said, it does throw you right in the mix. The author could give more smooth introductions to the multi-faceted histories and characters, and I would have liked a fuller exploration of some aspects merely glossed over, ie more about the magical systems and backgrounds. They are covered, but he makes you wait for it. Good if you don't like to be pampered, but sometimes it feels a little unweildy. I'll get the next one, however, and will probably hit the ground running. It's nice to get another fantasy series that's not a romance novel with swords.

This is a post script to my review. After reading the next two books, I can say this is the best fantasy series around. I wish I could bump up my rating to full stars. Yes, the intro is tough, but bracing and builds character.