Customer Reviews

The Wilding (Daw Book Collectors)

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(6)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

From the high-fantasy Coldfire Trilogy, with one of speculative fictions most enduring anti-heroes, to In Conquest Born which introduced her readers to the universe of the Braxi and the Azea and their unending war, C.S. Friedman's talent has been blossoming before our eyes. But it was with her last novel, This Alien Shore, that Friedman joined the ranks of such legends as Frank Herbert and Vernor Vinge for the scope of her vision and the brilliance of her characters. As an author whose start was noteworthy and who has improved markedly with each new offering, it is only natural that science-fiction fans have been anxiously awaiting her newest novel, The Wilding. Unfortunately, such fans are destined for disappointment.
Abandoning the richly-textured and powerfully original universe of This Alien Shore, Friedman brings us back to the conflict between the Azea and the Braxi. However, in The Wilding this conflict is merely a back-drop against which the story of two girls is told: Zara and Rho, twins separated at birth. Although the separation itself was the result of a botched kidnapping, authorities on both sides of the conflict ignored opportunities to reunite the girls in order to study the effect environment had on mental development. It turns out that the twins had the genetic predisposition toward telepathy, a trait feared yet desired by each side in the conflict. By raising Zara in the telepath-hating Azea empire and allowing Rho to be raised by radical psychic separatists, both sides hoped to learn the secrets to unlocking, and eventually controlling, mental powers.
Allowing atrocities in the name of science is certainly not new ground for Friedman. In This Alien Shore the protagonist Jamisia had her mind deliberately fractured by a corporate superpower which believed that the secrets of FTL [faster-than-light] travel lie somewhere in the unfathomable minds of individuals suffering from multiple-personality-disorder. In that previous work the stakes were huge, the goals laudable and the means monstrous. Jamisia was the ultimate hero-victim, simultaneously helpless and superhuman. The Wilding has no such saving grace. Neither Zara nor Rho is likely to resonate with the reader, and the triteness of their separated-at-birth scenario is hard to escape. The Braxin warrior Tathas is barely more compelling since his bloodlust and insatiable sexual appetites are already a Braxana male stereotype for anyone who is familiar with Friedman's earlier works. Only the Braxin female K'Teva, with her obsessive political ambitions and subtle machinations, rises to the level of Friedman's previous characters, and her part in the story is sadly peripheral.
Even the epic struggle between the Azea and Braxin is trivialized in The Wilding. Whereas in previous works Friedman made a point of depicting the warmongering Braxin and the sophisticated and emotionally reserved Azea as equally sympathetic, here she has inexplicably chosen to take sides, with the Braxin cast as the villains and the Azean guardians of all that is good. Not only is this a notable departure from the precedent set in earlier novels, it makes for a much less interesting story.
The occasional mediocre book is every author's due, and Friedman has certainly earned the continued attention of the science-fiction community. Let us hope that The Wilding is simply a misstep on the road of continued literary distinction and does not represent a detour into the pedestrian.

For an author to return to a universe she created years (and several novels) ago requires some daring, and 'daring' really should be Friedman's middle name. She tackles thorny ethical issues and moral questions--and the consequences of the chosen answers--without flinching.

I'd been waiting years for this book. I'm sorry to say it did not live up to my expectations. "The Wilding" is the long-awaited sequel to her debut novel, "In Conquest Born". I was expecting a return to that universe, perhaps a return tothe characters whose ultimate fates were left dangling so tantalizingly.

Instead, the story begins three generations after the conclusion of ICB, and introduces one of the most morally repulsive male characters ever to be passed off as a protagonist. (Gerald Tarrant wasn't a shining prince, either, but he never made light of rape, or taunted women with the threat of it.) Whatever high points this book had were quickly sunk by this repulsive, sickening man for whom we were supposed to empathize.

Sadly, many of the most intriguing characters were killed off, the most promising plotlines and sub-plots never developed. The scientific theories (many of which are hot-topic debates in the real-world) are sound, and could well hold the attention of readers who wish to read about the mystery of twins living parallel lives, the long-term effects of war on a cultural psyche, and the truly nebulous definition of 'enemy.'

One of Friedman's gifts is that she can take even minor characters and make them memorable, even if they appear only forthe purpose of being killed off a few pages later. Many authors, writing violent stories, downplay the fact that the "people" being killed are indeed people, with names, personalities, and hopes/ambitions/fears. Many people die in Friedman's books, but none of them die as strangers to the reader.

In my opinion, this book would have been far more interesting if we'd been allowed to *learn* about the Diaspora, to *see* the effect of the Plague on the Braxanna, to see how the characters we spent so much time learning of in ICB became the figures of legend so briefly mentioned in "The Wilding." I would have loved to see more about the motivations of the half-blood, about the household of the mysterious supreme leader of the Braxanna, of the history of the Azeans, and the changes in its culture, away from telepathic development and genetics to...what it is in "The Wilding."

(At the risk of spoilers, both sides of the Great War have diminished, greatly. It was sad, to see so much potential reduced to a few pages of exposition, when whole novels could have been produced from it.)

This isn't a *bad* book. It has some unique characters--apart from the repulsive male lead--some interesting questions and conflicts. It is, by many measures, a good book. It is, however, a poor sequel to "In Conquest Born."

I would have given this book a lot more leeway if there *hadn't* been an expanded, revised 'anniversary edition' of ICB released prior to this. The story universe, then, wasn't that far off then, so the clumsy fit with the previous work stands out much more sharply.

If you are a completist, you will want to read "The Wilding." If you want to know what's happened in that story universe since ICB... it may leave you right back where you started.

After 15 long years, C. S. Friedman has returned to the universe that put her on the map. <strong>In Conquest Born</strong> remains one of the only space opera series I've ever enjoyed, largely because of its focus on the fascinating cultures of her far-future humanity and the even more fascinating characters who embodied them. In this long-awaited sequel set 200 years after the first book, the Azean Empire and the Braxin Holding are still locked in their endless war. However, this time around the Great War takes second place to internal strife within both civilizations. The Azeans are still struggling in the aftermath of losing their greatest advantage against the Braxins: the psychics. This is in part fallout from Zatar's attack on their homeworld in the first novel, but also because his attack revealed the psychics' hidden agendas and made the Azeans realize they couldn't be trusted. So the psychics are now hunted throughout the galaxy, believed to be helpless and scattered -- but in truth they've regrouped and begun growing in strength. At the beginning of the novel a pair of infant twins are separated as psychics kidnap one of them (Rho) and leave the other (Zara) behind.

Meanwhile, the Braxin Holding has troubles of its own. The ruling Braxana tribe is on its last legs, weak enough that other tribes are actually beginning to contemplate rebellion. Tathas, leader of an outlawed tribe, is betrayed and captured by the Braxana. His only option is to undertake a ritual called "the Wilding", in which he goes in search of genetic material worthy to be added to the Braxana bloodlines. He decides to track down the psychics in the hope of finding the descendants of Anzha lyu Mitethe, the heroine from ICB.

Zara grows up, living a normal and comfortable life in the Empire until without warning she begins to develop psychic powers. This forces her to flee before she can be imprisoned; she undertakes a desperate search to find the psychics so that they can help her learn to control her power. Tathas goes in search of the psychics as well, and coincidentally runs across Zara. Together they end up on a quest which takes them from primitive worlds to the galactic seats of power, ultimately working their way through conspiracies which threaten to destroy both empires.

As before, this sequel is full of intrigue and awesome, galaxy-shaking events. The characters are briefly but thoroughly developed, each giving further insight into their respective cultures. Tathas was my favorite character, even though as a common Braxin he's essentially a brutal animalistic rapist and murderer. He had a wry, obnoxious streak which made for a nice contrast with the austere Braxana depicted in the first novel. Zara took awhile to grow on me, but I think this is in part because I've always liked the Braxins more than the Azeans. Both cultures have their pros and cons, but I respect the Braxins' honesty about their flaws over the Azeans' secrecy. Zara <em>did</em> grow on me once we met Rho, her sister who was raised by telepaths, and who came across as an equally brutal, less funny mirror of Tathas. Ultimately Zara and Rho seemed to epitomize the different sides of Azea -- Zara the kindhearted idealist, Rho the coldhearted assassin. Tathas too had his mirror -- K'teva, the half-Braxana woman he semi-loves (since Braxins don't admit to love), but she read to me as a bit of a cliche: the scheming seductress. It was good to see more strong Braxin women, but I just didn't find her as interesting or likeable as Ni'en, L'resh, or the poet (whose name I can't recall) from the first novel.

This partially touches on what weakened this novel for me, in comparison with its predecessor. There were more prominent characters in this story, but none with the presence or power of Zatar or Anzha. ICB thrived on the love-hate relationship between these two larger-than-life characters; Wilding is by comparison a study of a bunch of very normal (for their respective societies) people. There's the hint of a romance between Tathas and Zara, but it never goes beyond a hint. Though this is perfectly plausible given their backgrounds, it's also a bit of an unsatisfying tease. At least with Zatar and Anzha we had consummation of a sort.

But what really troubled me about this novel was the weakness of the intrigue. After ICB's complex, stunning conspiracies, the ones in this novel seemed transparent and simplistic. And some of the events in this novel were borderline implausible. K'teva uses the Black Death on a man, risking her own life and probably a huge amount of her fortune for what seems to be a very trivial reason. Tathas encounters a group of mercenaries and is accepted into their ranks with puzzling ease, for no clear benefit on their part to make it worth the risk. In ICB, no one did anything without a purpose; even the most random events turned out to be part of some character or another's master plan. In this novel, the characters -- even the Braxana -- seem to "wing it" a lot more.

This is not to say I didn't enjoy The Wilding. For the second foray into the fascinating universe of ICB alone it was worth it. And I'd like to see another novel set in this universe, maybe a more direct sequel resolving some of the characters' issues from this book. The worst I can say about this book is that it's merely good, not groundbreaking like its predecessor. But for me, "good" means it's worth the hardcover price.

Although "The Wilding" is billed as a sequel to the unforgettable "In Conquest Born," which was written more than a decade and a half ago, if you're a newcomer to C.S. Friedman's works, don't worry. While this novel picks up the "Never Ending War" generations later, the characters are new, and the situation is very different.

Friedman uses the old twins separated at birth plot as central to this episodic work dealing with the overthrow of a tyrant. Less a novel than a series of incidents that coalesce at the end, the point of view keeps shifting, even within chapters sometimes.

With this author, there are always complications, and you need to be on the alert for foreshadowings and surprises. You need to keep careful track of the characters, too--fortunately there's a glossary to help out.

Friedman writes well, and she creates fascinating characters, all of whom become pawns in a game that's greater than they know. I hope it doesn't take another 15 years before the author drops back into this universe.

"In Conquest Born" is one of the greatest SF novels ever written. Its engaging, clever, and above all fairly unique in both subject and style.

Its real strength was its characters, Zatar, the perfect Braxin and Anzha lyu Mitethe, the perfect psychic along with a host of well developed support characters and cultures.

That is where the Wilding breaks down. By chapter six you have six major characters to keep track of. And of those six, only three make it through to the end of the book...those that die, don't advance the true plot of the book in any shape or form. You watch them die one by one and think "Why was this person even here?"

Due to the "writing" being spread thin, even those characters who survive (and I suppose are the protagonist's of the story) really aren't that well developed. By the end of the book, they could have all been killed and I wouldn't have missed them a bit.

Two stars, because as another reviewer stated, even CS Friedman at her worst is better than most other SF's authors at their best. The book is well written and did move quickly, but still ranks far below In Conquest Born, or Madness Season.

I loved all of the C.S. Friedman trilogy and I loved the prececessor to the Wilding. However, I found this book not as rich in language as the other books. The stories were not as in depth as the others. It seems as if this book was a collection of stories loosely connected by the Azen culture. I would recommend you read the other books first because if you read this one you likely won't be impressed enough to go on to the earlier books.

While the novel takes place in the same universe and makes references to Friedman's earlier novel, In Conquest Born, it is not a sequel - it stands completely on its own and best judged that way. I found it to be a very exciting read, more streamlined and easier to get into than In Conquest Born. The switch between characters POV was easier than usual for me - each new chapter drew me in so quickly, I had no time to get impatient to get back to the previous character.

The first main character is Talthas, a warrior of the Kesserit tribe, long ago conquered by the Braxins, but carrying on the tribal identity and ritual duals which are punishable by death in the Braxin empire. For all his classical Braxin maleness - the very fabric of his being seems to be made of violence, rage, pride, and blood and sexual lust, in a society where a woman may not give a man a direct order (not even "pass me the salt") - he is a oddly sympathetic and compelling character.

I also liked the enigmatic Pri'tiera - the supreme leader of the Braxins, a young man barely out of adolescence, carrying a tremendous power/curse he cannot control. The charisma and the heat that these characters generate in their own scenes are palpable.

The second main character is Zara - an Azean young woman working as an interpretor, which she suddenly comes to exhibit psychic powers, overwhelming and frightening. She goes to search for her long-lost twin sister, hoping to find her own identity. Instead, she's found by Talthas, the treasured prize that may redeem him.

C.S. Friedman's writing, always terrific, is better than in her earlier novels. The story moves briskly, and I couldn't put this book down until I finished it, sleep be damned.

I am a great C.S. Friedman fan, and after the masterpieces of Madness Season and This Alien Shore I was eagerly looking forward to the chance to lose myself in another Friedman world. I had read In Conquest Born and although it wasn't my favorite of hers, I still enjoyed it, and looked forward to the opportunity to see her revisit the concept writing now at a higher plane of skill.

I was deeply disappointed and even upset. Just to start with, the mechanics of the book in general left me underwhelmed. There were some very chewy ideas and some good, exciting, action-packed sequences, but they left me with a nagging sensation of deja vu. I remember one sequence in particular: a frightened, adrift woman being pursued by malevolent techno-kidnappers who want to exploit her for the unknown tech-power of her brain. She flees in a panic through a space station and runs up against the shady-yet-practical captain of a small smuggling rig. I'm not complaining, but did we not have basically the exact same chase scene with Jamisia in This Alien Shore? It's alarming to think that Friedman is recycling her scenes so soon.

Other issues, other reviewers have already addressed; many of the subplots don't seem to go anywhere, most of the truly interesting characters die halfway through, and the conclusion itself is fairly anticlimatic. But they all come pretty secondary to the one thing that truly bothered me about this book. I don't consider myself qualified to review any book from a 'feminist' perspective but as a lay reader, the sexual politics of this book left me nauseous.

There are no sympathetic males in this book. The polarization is obvious; the Braxins are violent rapists, and the Azeans are emasculated and ineffective. There are no sympathetic females in this book, really, either; the 'strong' ones come off as vicious harridans and the 'weak' ones are, well, there to be exploited by all who can pick them up.

Very early on, warning signs began to go off. One of the first chapters of the book details a woman who is bought into sexual servitude, and commits suicide to escape from it. Sexual exploitation of women coupled with violence was, unfortunately, to remain a disturbing theme through the book. It became worse with the introduction of the male protagonist, who openly regards all females around him as objects to be bested, owned, and subordinated.

The female protagonist, although not in herself as repulsive as the man, set off more alarms; she came across as ultimately weak willed and ineffective. As soon as she enters the orbit of the 'strong, violent, virile' Braxan male, she finds herself inexplicably drawn to his overpowering male charisma. Red alert! The other female character, her twin sister, was obviously meant to be the 'strong' woman in contrast to her weak sister, but even she was easily overpowered -- despite her vaunted powerful psychic abilities -- by, once again, the male subduing her with sexual violence. Alarm bells have gone off, core has breached. I did finish the book, but I was limping with disgust by the time it staggered to the end.

It's not the first time Friedman has dealt with this sort of imagery in her books. After all Gerald Tarrant, the stage-hogging antagonist of the Coldfire trilogy, made a pastime of torturing and murdering women. The difference there was that Tarrant's immorality was offset by Damien Vryce, who made no secret of how violently revolted and angered he was by this callous behavior. However desperation may have worn him down in later books, Vryce always believed strongly -- and made clear to the reader -- that this was deplorable and wrong. There is no such balancing moral force in the Wilding. As far as everyone in the universe is concerned, violent sexual exploitation of women is the right and natural order of things.

I still love Friedman and I still love my copies of her greatest works, but The Wilding has burned me so badly that I find myself extremely reluctant to buy the next Friedman novel, if this book is an indication of where her writing is going.

I am a huge fan of all her work and have been since 'In Conquest Born,' but this book was a bit of a disappointment. One of her strongest gifts as a writer is really getting in to how the characters THINK, by the end of the books you feel you really know these people and they are fully developed characters, with hopes, fears, dreams, strengths and weaknesses. This book was too short to do more than touch on people, and in the first half characters come in and out so rapidly it is hard to keep track. And frankly, every time she describes Tathas it is like something out of a dime-store bodice ripper- "animal grace", "controlled masculinity", "piercing green eyes that made her feel weak inside"....give me a break!
It was an enjoyable read but it just hinted that it could be so much more, especially as it gained momentum at the end. Hopefully there will be a fully fleshed novel coming soon from this amazing author. And I will say that even an "average" C.S. Friedman novel is far superior to most authors at their best.

When I discovered that this was a "sequel" to In Conquest Born I was quite excited. I've been reading Friedman off and on since I read ICB. She does what she always does which is to say she populates her story with fascinating charaters and concepts that make one think. However, she introduces so many characters and subplots that I had difficulty getting through the first half of the book. The last third of the book where she concentrates on the most important characters and their dilemmas if far more interesting and less difficult to follow. Even though I'm not crazy about this book, she's still a very special writer.