One would think that, by now, I might start running out of ways to praise Mark Chadbourn and his ingenious Age of Misrule and The Dark Age trilogies–each of which is part of an even larger whole, a “trilogy of trilogies” as Chadbourn refers to it–but I’ll do my best, because each successive volume I read makes me fall further and further in love with Chadbourn’s overall vision, an immense narrative tapestry that utilizes countless mythologies, folk tales, legends, philosophies in what is in many ways a complex reimagining of the fantasy epic for the new millennium, built not only on extremely intelligent uses of well known and lesser known gods and tropes but even more importantly, on ideas.
One of the series’ prevailing themes is man’s potential, and how it has been squandered for far too long. The cataclysmic events of Age of Misrule, as tragic as they are for millions of people, also provide an opportunity for evolution and growth, beyond the mundane, closed-off existence under which the majority of us have been operating. The major theme of The Dark Age, then, might be how man’s very nature is both an asset and a detriment to such development. It would be easy to view mankind as intrinsically corrupt and bureaucratic, and indeed, The Dark Age explores how the “old guard” attempts to retain power in the face of a world that had spun wildly out of their control. The first installment, The Devil in Green, focuses on how the last, scattered remnants of the Church try to do so, while the second, The Queen of Sinister, gives us a glimpse at a petty criminal asserting fascistic control over a city. Following in that vein, The Hounds of Avalon acquaints us with the remains of the United Kingdom’s former government, which, as one might expect, is doing its damndest to restore their former bureaucratic hold over a country that arguably no longer exists.
This all might seem to be a harsh indictment of man and yet the series, even at its grimmest, never relinquishes its sense of hope, as small a flame as it may be at times. Because, yes, mankind can be weak and cruel and harmful, but it can also be unexpectedly heroic and passionate and resilient. The blue flame of existence that courses throughout the series, providing power to its central heroes–the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons–represents man’s capacity for enlightenment, growth, change, honor, courage, and selflessness. The first trilogy and each novel in this trilogy introduces us to yet another unlikely hero or heroes, most of whom ultimately discover their abilities in battle and physical combat. What delighted me most about this volume, then, is how it subverted this formula to some degree by introducing Hal, a meek, bookish man considered a coward by most of his colleagues, who emerges as a hero not in the battlefield but in the library, so to speak. His strength lies in his intelligence, and he proves to be an invaluable member of the team despite the fact that he never gains physical prowess.
Equally impressive is Chadbourn’s depiction of Hal’s close friendship with the hard, promiscuous assassin, Hunter–the two couldn’t seem any more different and yet they complement each other perfectly, sharing a relationship that exemplifies the ideal of Platonic love. It is rare to see a relationship between two heterosexual men portrayed with such unabashed tenderness and love, particularly when one of the men is such an ultra-masculine alpha-male in so many ways. It is even rarer to see a plot in which two men who are the emotional equivalent of brothers each fall in love with the same woman, and yet said plot doesn’t progress along the expected route of anger and resentment. Seeing as aspects of the Arthurian legend are woven throughout the series, a lesser author might have been tempted to parallel that famous arc, while also capitalizing on the soap opera potential of the situation. Chadbourn does not–another subtle hint that perhaps the human race can progress from its primitive roots and instincts. This is also beautifully paralleled by a case of infidelity between three other characters, in which forgiveness truly proves to be a saving grace.
And these are only a handful of the dozens of reasons why The Hounds of Avalon is such a gorgeous work of writing. Another major factor is the sophisticated and delicate manner in which it resumes and forwards numerous entwining threads from both trilogies, presumably to set the stage for what will undoubtedly be a glorious climax in the final trilogy, Kingdom of the Serpent, due to be released by Pyr Books in the United States next year. Age of Misrule is a more straightforward, albeit revisionist epic fantasy about a single band of heroes, whereas the first two books of The Dark Age introduce seemingly unconnected characters and plots that only come to unite in the third installment, along with characters from the first trilogy. In the final book, we also learn that the current threat to existence exists as an effect of an event from Age of Misrule, a subtle reveal that demonstrates how actions always have impact in the world of this series, even if it takes a while to make itself known. It also brings elements that were previously only hinted at more directly into the forefront of the series, such as quantum physics, which never overwhelms the series’ fantasy genre elements but instead skillfully dovetails into the metaphysics of this world, where fairy tales, horror, mythology, philosophy, and science converge.
The bold and rapturous conclusion of The Hounds of Avalon is so very thrilling because it manages to be completely shocking while at the same time feeling inevitable, given what has come before it. It is also abrupt and purposefully so. As the pages began to run out, it seemed less and less likely that I could actually be so close to the end, and yet I was. The final scenes are enigmatic and shattering in all of the right ways, and the next trilogy can’t make its way to this side of the pond soon enough. How often does a long-running fantasy series manage to stay this fresh and relevant, six volumes in?
There are currently many ideas buzzing through my head as to where the story could go from here, and knowing my past experience with Chadbourn, I am sure the answer will prove to be ten times as ambitious, dazzling, and thoroughly audacious than anything I could guess.
Buy:
The Hounds of Avalon (The Dark Age #3)
The Queen of Sinister (The Dark Age #2)
The Devil in Green (The Dark Age #1)
Always Forever (Age of Misrule #3)
Darkest Hour (Age of Misrule #2)
World’s End (Age of Misrule #1)
Related posts:
- The Last Crusade: Mark Chadbourn’s The Devil in Green
- Dark Lady: Mark Chadbourn’s The Queen of Sinister
- “Who Am I?”: Mark Chadbourn’s Lord of Silence
- “A Whole New World”: Mark Chadbourn’s Age of Misrule
- “Swyfte, Will Swyfte”: Chadbourn’s The Silver Skull
