Sheepfarmer’s Daughter — Elizabeth Moon

Sheepfarmer's Daughter


Sheepfarmer’s Daughter
Elizabeth Moon
506 pages
published in 1988

Sheepfarmer’s Daughter was Elizabeth Moon’s first published novel and is now available from the Baen Free Library as a sample to get you to try her other work. I got it to have something to read in those stolen moments where it’s too much hassle to dig a paperback out of my bag, but I can get to my mobile. Sheepfarmer’s Daughter was the ideal book for this: not overtly complicated, easy to read in small chunks without missing much of the plot and engaging enough to keep reading.

I’ve only read one Elizabeth Moon novel before this one, A Sporting Chance, a science fiction adventure story that was decent enough but nothing special. From all I had read about her other novels, they seemed much the same so until now I’d never really sought out her books. But it’s hard to argue with free books and people I trust had been praising Sheepfarmer’s Daughter, so when I needed something new to read the choice was easy.

Sheepfarmer’s Daughter is the first in a trilogy called The Deed of Paksenarrion, which Elizabeth Moon allegedly wrote after she was introduced to Dungeons and Dragons by friends of her and got annoyed by the way it handled paladins, to show what real paladins were like. A paladin is “a holy knight and paragon of virtue and goodness”, as Wikipedia calls it and in D&D it’s one of the character classes you can play. What exactly Moon disagreed with I’m unclear about, but there certainly is some D&D influence visible in the fantasy world she created. The other influence on the series was Moon’s own background as an US Marine, giving her a somewhat more realistic idea of warfare than many other fantasy writers have.

Paksenarrion “Paks” Dorthansdotter is a, well, sheepfarmer’s daughter, who doesn’t want to be a sheepherd all her live and so runs away to become a mercenary soldier in duke Phelan’s Company when her father threatens to marry her to one of their neighbours. As in many other pseudomedieval fantasy worlds, soldiering is much more of an equal opportunities profession than it has been in real history and Paks is far from the only woman in her chosen outfit. Both the duke and most of the mercenaries in his Company are also far more nobler than was probably true historically, again not unusual in fantasy. The same also goes for the oh so convenient natural contraceptive herbs mentioned awkwardly in an early chapter. All these conventions are needed for Moon to tell the story she wants to tell.

Together with the other recruits Paks is taken to the company’s headquarters and turned into a soldier, which means a lot of drilling, arms instruction and exercise, much of which no doubt has been coloured by Moon’s own experiences as a marine. What I liked is that while it was clear from the prologue that Paks is destined for great things, she’s not preternatural good at soldiering, but has to be taught the basics just like anybody else. She has potential and her instructors know she’s one of the best of the new recruits, but still needs training.

But then she’s accused of assaulting an officer. Which she did, but only because she was resisting being raped. Beaten to a bloody pulp, she’s thrown unconscious in jail and it’s only when her sergeant visits her and realises that no way was it possible for her to be so battered when her supposed victim has just some bruises and scratches and something is wrong, that somebody believes her story. Things don’t get any simpler however when it turns out her assailant was himself drugged by some sort of magic potion. It’s the first overt sign that Paks is somebody special and makes clear, to the reader at least, that somebody is willing to go to a lot of trouble to get rid of her.

For Paks herself this is just an unpleasant incident and a reminder that the mercenary life has its downside as well. She emerges tougher from her ordeal, but doesn’t lose her trust in her fellow soldiers and willingness to help her comrades in arms. A new trial by fire is her first battle; this being a medievaloid world, this consists of battle phalanxes clashing with spears, followed by Roman style sword chopping, much holding of lines and such, as well as the occasional cavalry attack and rain of arrows. Again Paks does well but not spectacularly so, when she gets wounded in battle but doesn’t notice really until afterwards.

She and several other wounded are travelling back to their sponsoring city when they are attacked by mercenaries in service of the Honeycat, one of the less than nice mercenary leaders. This is again a disguised attack on Paks herself, but one that again only the readers recognise as such. This and other incidents however do convince duke Phelan to go after the Honeycat, with several other northern mercenary companies (all of the noble honourable persuasion) and southern city states joining in. This campaign dominates the second half of Sheepfarmer’s Daughter as Paks grows in her abilities and importance.

As a fantasy story sheepfarmer’s Daughter has few real surprises, which in this case didn’t matter to me. What I liked here was the execution of a familiar plot, which was much more low key and “realistic”, for lack of a better word, than many another post-Tolkien, Post-D&D fantasy novel. Moon spends a lot of time on the less glamorous aspects of soldiering: drills, ditches, latrine duty which a quick google tells me a lot of people disliked, but I actually enjoyed reading about. It makes it more realistic, as does the relative lack of spectacular magic and non-humans: there are dwarfs and elves in Paksenarrion ‘s world, but they’re only mentioned in passing here.

Moon is not as cynical as e.g. Glen Cook is in his view of the mercenary life, though not viewing it through rose tinted glasses either. While the attempted rape of Paks is shown as an aberration in duke Phelan’s company, it’s clear that other outfits are less bothered by that sort of thing. I’m not too wild about the use of (attempted) rape as a plot driver to be honest, due to its overuse as a “motivator” for both female heroes or as something for their boyfriends to avenge. It’s handled reasonably well here, but I’d rather not seen it all the same. Apart from that, this was a solid fantasy story, well told and entertaining. Nothing that you haven’t seen earlier perhaps, but there’s more to life than novelty.

Monday Night Linkage

I was going to post this yesterday, but real life interfered:

An evening with China Miéville.
Paul Wiseall interviews China on his first clear science fiction book. I’d argue that most of his novels from Perdido Street Station have been science fiction, but that’s a matter of taste as much as anything.

Paul Kincaid: Learning to Read Adam Roberts & Rich Puchalsky: On Learning to Read Adam Roberts
How do you solve a problem like Adam Roberts, a writer every book of which I’ve read I’ve disagreed with and/or disliked? Whom, despite this, I still keep coming back to every few years or so. Bad writers you can dismiss, writers that you dislike you can dismiss, even writers you like and enjoy you can often set aside more easily than a writer that irritates you, like a piece of sand in an oyster. With Roberts, I find that his view of what science fiction should be is different enough from mine to be challenging, while at the same time I often can’t believe either his characters or the situations they find themselves in. Paul Kincaid has a similar problem and his post is an attempt to deal with it, to which Rich Puchalsky has replied.

Martin Lewis reviews Arslan.
A review which does not make me want to read this any more than Abigail Nussbaum’s review did. Arslan is a novel that starts with a horrific rape scene in which a teenage boy and girl are raped by Arslan the warlord, which in itself is enough to squick me out, but what both reviews also made clear is that the setup of the novel is far from realistic. Arslan is a warlord out of a fictional country in the former USSR, who by way of nuclear blackmail becomes ruler of the world, only to end up micromanaging a small town in flyover country USA. It’s an absurd setup that Arslan‘s author needs to tell the story she wants to tell. I can deal with novels that rely on either of these two authorical tricks, but novels that use both need to be very good to end on my to read pile and so far nothing I’ve read makes me think Arslan falls in that category.

The History of Science Fiction as depicted in one crazily detailed artwork by Ward Shelley.
Too gorgeous to nitpick.

Sci-fi Sunday: linkers live in vain

More links for a rainy|sunny|strike where not applicable Sunday afternoon.

Among Others – Jo Walton

cover of Among Others


Among Others
Jo Walton
302 pages
published in 2010

Have you ever read a book you just wanted to gulp down in one sitting, so eager to get on with the story that everything else has to wait? Or alternatively, have you ever read a book you didn’t want to end, stretching out your reading so you could savour it, making excuses not to read it just now, so as not end it too soon? I’m sure you have and so have I, but much rarer are those books where you want to do both, gulp down the story and stretch it out because once the book is finished you can never read it for the first time again. That’s how Among Others was for me, a book I wanted to stay in, but also wanted to keep turning the page to see how it would all turn out. Jo Walton has always been a good writer, but here she’s surpassed herself.

But perhaps I’m not quite objective. After all, I’ve known and liked Jo since the mid-nineties, as a fellow fan and friend from the rec.arts.sf.* Usenet groups, who has had a huge influence on my reading, in science fiction, in fantasy, who I got to know about as well as you can get to know a person from Usenet posts. All I could think about at the start of the book was how Jo-shaped it was, even knowning going in that this was rooted in her actual life growing up as a science fiction reading Welsh girl in a post-industrial landscape which she populated with fairies. She made the fairies and the magic real for Among Others but at heart it’s still her own story and that’s what made me want to spent more time in it, because being with Jo, a disguised Jo in fiction is the next best thing to seeing her at a convention.

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Night of Knives – Ian C. Esslemont

Cover of Night of Knives


Night of Knives
Ian C. Esslemont
284 pages
published in 2005

I’m always wary of books set in another writer’s world. Normally therefore I would’ve skipped this book, as it’s set in Steven Erikson’s Malazan universe. But as it turns out this isn’t a book by a new writer using an established colleague’s world to make a name for himself, as Ian Esslemont was in at the creation of Malazan from the start. Erikson and Esslemont had first met in 1982 on an archeological ditch and recognising kindred spirits, set out to create their own fantasy world. Scroll down roughly two decades and Erikson is the first to get his part of the world published with Gardens of the Moon, but it was always the idea that Esslemont would follow. As Erikson says in the introduction, this is not fan fiction, but Esslemont’s part of the enterprise. Malazan is too big an universe for one writer, but two?

Night of Knives fills in the backstory to some of the plot twists not explained in Erikson’s novels, but nobody will mistake it for his own work. It missed the widescreen, epic feel of the Erikson books, being set in a single place during a single day and night. Night of Knives also misses the deep layer of allusion, hint and complexity Erikson loads on to his epics. It’s much easier to follow and much more straight forward; it might make a good starting point for people curious about Malazan.

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