| Dusk | ||||||||
| Tim Lebbon | ||||||||
| Bantam Spectra, 416 pages | ||||||||
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A review by David Hebblethwaite
Any doubts that one is reading a Tim Lebbon book are swiftly despatched with the first chapter, in which a man wearing a red robe
enters the village of Trengborne and proceeds to slaughter everyone there -- all except two people, that is: Rafe Baburn, the young
boy he's looking for; and Kosar, a former thief who hid when he saw the man approaching the village. Leaving Trengborne, Rafe falls
in with the witch Hope and Kosar with his ex-lover, a warrior named A'Meer from the mysterious Shantasi people.
The truth about the red-robed man becomes clear: he was a Red Monk, part of a group dedicated to preventing the return of magic
(which fled Lebbon's world of Noreela three hundred years previously after abuse of its power by the Mages S'Hivez and Angel
resulted in devastation). The Monk went to Trengborne because magic is re-emerging in Noreela -- in the person of Rafe
Baburn. Elsewhere, librarian Alishia has to leave Noreela City when another Red Monk burns down her library; fledge miner Trey
is forced above ground for the first time when a Nax, or fledge demon, wreaks havoc among his community; and, far to the north
of Noreela, the exiled Mages are preparing for revenge...
A lot of names and details there, and perhaps not an awful lot (at first sight) to distinguish Dusk from the legion of other
multi-pronged high fantasies out there. Look more closely, though, and Lebbon's novel proves quite distinctive. One of its most
pleasing aspects is the sheer volume of ideas on display: many fantasies of this type actually tend to be lacking in real fantasy
ideas; but here we have abandoned "machines" (often of unknown purpose) that ran on magic; an entire subterranean society of
people who mine a drug -- fledge -- that gives people second sight; and a general sense that a multitude of other stories are
unfolding elsewhere in Noreela, even though we won't see them.
I was particularly impressed by Lebbon's conception of magic. It's quite common in high fantasy these days to treat magic as a
kind of science; but the magic that Rafe embodies (although it can be seen as something analogous to our world's
electricity -- a neutral force that can bring benefit or danger, depending on how it is used) is explicitly irrational. Hope
is called a witch, but what she does is actually scientific, exploiting natural properties to achieve repeatable results; it
just looks like magic because most people don't understand it. In contrast, when Rafe heals someone, it just happens, and he
doesn't control the magic. This, of course, is what makes magic potentially so dangerous, both for Lebbon's world and his
novel (because cause and effect could easily break down). The real test for Lebbon's approach will come in Dawn (the
sequel to Dusk, due in March 2007); but, for now, that approach is welcome: it may be harder to depict successfully,
but it's arguably closer to how real magic might operate.
In fact, there is a sense throughout Dusk that Lebbon has made an effort to work out what real life on Noreela would
be like. Mostly, he succeeds: the underground society of the fledge miners feels suitably "other," for example ("Two halves of
each day are so different up there," says Trey's mother, "one so bright and warm, the other so dark"); and the author does a
good job of balancing the personal dramas of his characters with events on the wider stage of Noreela. It doesn't always
work: there are times when the "contemporary" attitudes of the characters don't sit entirely comfortably with the high fantasy
setting; but I think that's more because we're not used to that sort of thing, rather than down to any great problem with
Lebbon's writing.
And there's some fine writing in this novel. It's not easy to write gore poetically, but Lebbon can (and does). His action
sequences are generally good, and there is some interesting characterization. I particularly liked the depiction of Alishia
possessed by a spirit; though it's a shame we don't see more of Trey's adjusting to life above ground. It's good that we gain
some understanding of the Red Monks' motivations, rather than their just being anonymous killing machines; and, though the
Mages remain rather under-developed, I think they're meant to be at this point. I hope we'll see further into their characters
in the second volume.
That last sentence leads me to make an important point: we only have half a story in Dusk, so final judgement on
Lebbon's excursion into the realm of high fantasy will have to wait. I have my concerns about Dawn, especially
whether the magic will get out of control. But those concerns are for the future: in the present, we have Dusk,
a novel which suggests that, far from just a passing curiosity, Tim Lebbon is fashioning a high fantasy of considerable
significance. Read this first volume and keep watch.
David lives out in the wilds of Yorkshire, where he attempts to make a dent in his collection of unread books. You can read more of David's reviews at his review blog. |
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