honour, loyalty, leadership and friendship: the recent books of Rachel Neumeier
In the past twelve months or so, Rachel Neumeier has published seven novels. That’s a lot. (I still have one to read.)
The Tuyo series:
• Nikoles: This is a side-story about Nikoles, a minor character in Tuyo, and how he, years earlier, came to serve under Lord Gaur (Aras).
The first part is a thoughtful look at what causes a conflict between two peoples to escalate -- or to be resolved -- through the eyes of a likeable protagonist. And while there are few women involved, that doesn’t feel to me like a glaring omission because of the way Nikoles’ perspective has been shaped by his grandmother and her story.
But I was somewhat uneasy with the way, in the second part, the only women seem to be dangerous people who need to be stopped. (I say “seem” because it’s been some weeks now and I could be forgetting some details.) If I had read Tuyo more recently and better remembered why these people have such a justifiably visceral fear of sorcerers, I think I would have reacted differently. “An ugly situation,” the talon commander said, his tone not unfriendly. “You did a good job right through the whole business. If you made mistakes, well, you’re young yet, eventually you’ll get used to that and it’ll stop being such a shock. Drink some wine and get yourself together.”
• Tarashana: This is a direct sequel to Tuyo, again narrated by Ryo. I loved it (and have had a surprisingly difficult time trying to articulate everything I liked to my satisfaction).
Ryo is still a “tuyo”, given to Lord Aras as an indication of the cessation of war between their peoples. Ryo’s people discover that the Tarashana, on the other side of the mountains, have disappeared and request Aras’ assistance in investigating. What follows is a journey into the unknown, full of difficulties and danger in that way that good fantasy quests so often are. Very tense!
I was impressed with the way this story explores the challenges of justly judging people who have committed a serious transgression, of balancing mercy with customary punishments (and with an understanding the reasons for, and the limitations of, such customs). Each time, the way both Ryo and Aras are involved is different, and the stakes are increasingly personal for Ryo. This means Ryo gains a more nuanced and multifaceted perspective, but also gives the events of the novel thematic cohesion. “I have been thinking many hard things of you because you would not agree with me about your law and your duty to your king and what you should do regarding that problem. Now that there is this problem and the matter is one of Ugaro custom, I see that your decision is more difficult than I understood. I was wrong, and I apologize.”
He answered quietly, “I’ll accept your apology if you wish, but I don’t agree you have anything to apologize for, Ryo. You weren’t actually wrong. Sometimes there’s nothing right to do.”
There are times when Ryo chooses to do what he believes is right even though he expects to face serious consequences for it. I liked how these moments reveal Ryo’s character -- his thoughtfulness, his compassion, and his awareness that having a fair and supportive family is a privilege not everyone has.
The Ugaro remind me somewhat of the Aiel from The Wheel of Time. It’s common for fantasy cultures in one book to somewhat resemble those in another book, but it’s very unusual that anything reminds me of the Aiel. There are enough significant differences that the similarities don’t seem derivative (and the scope and tone of this story is different from The Wheel of Time’s epic prophesied chosen-one narrative, too). But I wanted to read more about the Aiel, and I’m really pleased to discover other stories exploring a somewhat-similar culture.
Alright, I’m going to stop rereading passages and hunting for noteworthy quotes and just -- move on.
The Black Dog series:
• Copper Mountain: Set after Shadow Twin and Black Dog Stories III, Dimilioc deals with demons. I find Neumeier’s urban fantasy less appealing than the other worlds she has created but once I started reading, I was reminded that I do care about these characters. This wouldn’t have been so tense if I wasn’t so invested!
Miguel plays a central role, and it’s interesting seeing him discover more about his strengths and his limitations. Especially because those discoveries are about more than his position as the “human” Toland sibling, too -- about more than his expertise in being a human amongst Black Dogs, or more than lacking Alejandro’s and Natividad’s respective fantastical abilities.
I also liked seeing that, even though hierarchy amongst Black Dogs is based on physical strength, it’s not always just about that. An advantage to a series is that you have multiple books to establish these people and their norms, and so you can really appreciate the impact and significance of behaviour that’s some sort of exception.
(A disadvantage to series is that they’re even harder to review without spoilers.)They were all really at their best when they were taking care of someone else. She had known that already. But it was good to think of it now. That was a good thought to set against all the horrors of the night, and against the fears of the future.
[Grayson] said it again, emphasizing it without raising his voice. “I won’t leave you alone. You’re safe. Go to sleep.”
Miguel buried his face in the pillow and sighed. He hadn’t realized that was exactly what he needed to hear... but, yeah. It had been exactly what he needed to hear. “You really do know the right things to say.”
“I know everything. That’s why I’m the Master of Dimilioc. Go to sleep.”
“You don’t know everything,” Miguel told him, drowsily. “Way too much, though. Makes you damn hard to outmaneuver.” He blinked into the pillow. “I don’t think I meant to say that.”
The Master merely answered, his deep voice amused, “You don’t have to say it for me to know you’re thinking it. Go to sleep, Miguel. That’s an order.”
The Death’s Lady trilogy:
• The Year’s Midnight: This is different from Neumeier’s other stories, although it is actually just a prelude to a story which isn’t very different at all.
Dr Daniel Dodson has started a new job at Lindenwood, a psychiatric institution. One of his patients is a silent and deeply angry woman called Tenai. Slowly she tells him pieces of her story. She claims to come from another world. After her family were killed by an evil king, she became Death’s Lady and embarked on a long war, seeking revenge.
It is reasonably obvious to the reader that Tenai is telling the truth. Of course, Daniel doesn’t realise that he’s in a novel by a fantasy author, and so he doesn’t believe her. But I really like how this doesn’t actually undermine his ability to help. Because he believes that: Tenai fully believes what she’s telling him, her story contains important “symbolic” truths, and moreover, that his job isn’t to get her to remember what actually happened. His job is to help her to understand and manage her anger, so that she’s not a danger to herself or others and is able to leave the institution.
This is compelling. I really liked it. To Daniel, despite her quiet attitude, she looked in that first moment like a burning flame; like a stroke of lighting captured and frozen in human form. He had to fight an impulse to shield his eyes with his hand, as though she had literally been alight.
There it was. Daniel had not framed it that clearly to himself, had not precisely expected it, certainly had not expected it right now, at this precise moment. But he recognized it instantly: the heart of the problem and the heart of the cure, bound up together. As always, the patient was the one to find it. His role was to help her accept the truth she had discovered. He said gently, “We all fail. Sometimes in terrible ways. Sometimes we push our failures off onto other people and blame them instead. Sometimes it’s just so much easier to do that.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, head still bent. “Yes, I see that is so. You give me new eyes, doctor, and I thank you, but how am I to endure this new sight you have given me?”
The book also contains the shorter interlude story, “Chase”, which is mostly from the perspective of a martial arts instructor who gives Tenai Chase a job. It answers questions about what Tenai does after she leaves Lindenwood and while that’s interesting, my initial impression was that the story wasn’t really necessary. But having read the rest of the trilogy, I’ve revised that opinion. There are some important developments, most notably in setting up Daniel’s daughter’s relationship with Tenai.
• Of Absence, Darkness: Sixteen years later, Daniel has become friends with his former patient Tenai and his daughter Jenna is graduating college. When an enemy summons Tenai back to her own world, the spell brings Daniel and Jenna with her. While Daniel and Jenna adjust to life in a different new world, Tenai tries to avoid re-starting a war.
This story quietly simmers with tension -- until suddenly it boils over. I liked seeing the portal-fantasy-experience from the perspective of a middle-aged father, that’s definitely different! And, as with Neumeier’s other stories, I really liked the characters’ interactions -- I quickly became invested, wanting to see certain characters get along with each other, even as I appreciated that this wouldn’t happen easily.
I particularly enjoyed the contrast of Daniel and Jenna’s relationships with Tenai compared with how everyone else views her. In Tenai’s world, she’s a legendary figure, dangerous, warlike and awe-inspiring. But to Daniel she’s a close friend whose emotional wellbeing he’s allowed to question and express concern about, and to Jenna, she’s been a martial arts instructor and remains an important mentor.Daniel said, “Tenai ... is Keitah Terusai-e your enemy, now?”
Her dark eyes turned to him at once. “I should not imagine so, Daniel. Though I understand why you inquire. But once Terusai-e has opportunity to reflect, I believe he, too, will perceive the hand of God in the remarkable chance that set his brother in my way. Indeed, one could hardly mistake it.”
Jenna made a little sound, and, when Tenai’s attention turned to her, asked, “Do you really think God made your paths cross?” Clearly she wanted the answer to be Yes. Daniel could see that his daughter found the whole story terribly romantic - a tragic romance: the mistake made in youth followed by ten years in exile, and then - one presumed - redemption. Only, Daniel knew, as his daughter had not yet discovered, that redemption is not always so easy to come by. And that the real world does not always feel compelled to follow the desired storyline.
Tenai said, “Jenna, my bright child, this is not your home. You must have a guide and a guard. Ladies of the court must, if they would go out into the city. If you do not, you must be imprisoned in this court as surely as though in a cage.”
“Yeah? You don’t have a guard, I bet. And you aren’t imprisoned.”
Tenai barely smiled. “So, well. But I am an exception to many rules. In time you may be also, but I should be failing in my duty toward you if I suggested you emulate my example just now. You must first learn the customs, my child, so you may discard them to purpose.”
The rebellious look eased. Jenna even seemed entertained by this last comment. “Well ... I still say it’s stupid. But okay. For a while.”
I’m not a fan of the title but it kind of fits? Or maybe it’s grown on me.
• As Shadow, a Light: Arguably this is just the second half of Of Absence, Darkness, although because Jenna becomes a POV character, I think there’s enough difference to justify it being published as a separate book.
The book alternates between Jenna and Daniel, a welcome development and not only because she offers a different perspective to her father’s. Daniel is caught in an intensely stressful situation and I think the narrative would have felt far more claustrophobic if the focus had all been on him. Jenna’s circumstances are stressful too, but she’s less constrained and less isolated than Daniel is, and the progress she’s making towards her goals is more obvious.
I liked that her adventures allow her to meet a greater variety of people, and give her a wider understanding of this world.
This was very gripping. And it has a satisfying resolution -- the right sort of ending for this sort of story. I want to reread the whole trilogy now. Running for your life from the bad guys, she thought with a certain irritation, seemed to involve a lot more boredom and physical discomfort than actual running, and to take absolutely forever.
Originally @ Dreamwidth.
The Tuyo series:
• Nikoles: This is a side-story about Nikoles, a minor character in Tuyo, and how he, years earlier, came to serve under Lord Gaur (Aras).
The first part is a thoughtful look at what causes a conflict between two peoples to escalate -- or to be resolved -- through the eyes of a likeable protagonist. And while there are few women involved, that doesn’t feel to me like a glaring omission because of the way Nikoles’ perspective has been shaped by his grandmother and her story.
But I was somewhat uneasy with the way, in the second part, the only women seem to be dangerous people who need to be stopped. (I say “seem” because it’s been some weeks now and I could be forgetting some details.) If I had read Tuyo more recently and better remembered why these people have such a justifiably visceral fear of sorcerers, I think I would have reacted differently. “An ugly situation,” the talon commander said, his tone not unfriendly. “You did a good job right through the whole business. If you made mistakes, well, you’re young yet, eventually you’ll get used to that and it’ll stop being such a shock. Drink some wine and get yourself together.”
• Tarashana: This is a direct sequel to Tuyo, again narrated by Ryo. I loved it (and have had a surprisingly difficult time trying to articulate everything I liked to my satisfaction).
Ryo is still a “tuyo”, given to Lord Aras as an indication of the cessation of war between their peoples. Ryo’s people discover that the Tarashana, on the other side of the mountains, have disappeared and request Aras’ assistance in investigating. What follows is a journey into the unknown, full of difficulties and danger in that way that good fantasy quests so often are. Very tense!
I was impressed with the way this story explores the challenges of justly judging people who have committed a serious transgression, of balancing mercy with customary punishments (and with an understanding the reasons for, and the limitations of, such customs). Each time, the way both Ryo and Aras are involved is different, and the stakes are increasingly personal for Ryo. This means Ryo gains a more nuanced and multifaceted perspective, but also gives the events of the novel thematic cohesion. “I have been thinking many hard things of you because you would not agree with me about your law and your duty to your king and what you should do regarding that problem. Now that there is this problem and the matter is one of Ugaro custom, I see that your decision is more difficult than I understood. I was wrong, and I apologize.”
He answered quietly, “I’ll accept your apology if you wish, but I don’t agree you have anything to apologize for, Ryo. You weren’t actually wrong. Sometimes there’s nothing right to do.”
There are times when Ryo chooses to do what he believes is right even though he expects to face serious consequences for it. I liked how these moments reveal Ryo’s character -- his thoughtfulness, his compassion, and his awareness that having a fair and supportive family is a privilege not everyone has.
The Ugaro remind me somewhat of the Aiel from The Wheel of Time. It’s common for fantasy cultures in one book to somewhat resemble those in another book, but it’s very unusual that anything reminds me of the Aiel. There are enough significant differences that the similarities don’t seem derivative (and the scope and tone of this story is different from The Wheel of Time’s epic prophesied chosen-one narrative, too). But I wanted to read more about the Aiel, and I’m really pleased to discover other stories exploring a somewhat-similar culture.
Alright, I’m going to stop rereading passages and hunting for noteworthy quotes and just -- move on.
The Black Dog series:
• Copper Mountain: Set after Shadow Twin and Black Dog Stories III, Dimilioc deals with demons. I find Neumeier’s urban fantasy less appealing than the other worlds she has created but once I started reading, I was reminded that I do care about these characters. This wouldn’t have been so tense if I wasn’t so invested!
Miguel plays a central role, and it’s interesting seeing him discover more about his strengths and his limitations. Especially because those discoveries are about more than his position as the “human” Toland sibling, too -- about more than his expertise in being a human amongst Black Dogs, or more than lacking Alejandro’s and Natividad’s respective fantastical abilities.
I also liked seeing that, even though hierarchy amongst Black Dogs is based on physical strength, it’s not always just about that. An advantage to a series is that you have multiple books to establish these people and their norms, and so you can really appreciate the impact and significance of behaviour that’s some sort of exception.
(A disadvantage to series is that they’re even harder to review without spoilers.)They were all really at their best when they were taking care of someone else. She had known that already. But it was good to think of it now. That was a good thought to set against all the horrors of the night, and against the fears of the future.
[Grayson] said it again, emphasizing it without raising his voice. “I won’t leave you alone. You’re safe. Go to sleep.”
Miguel buried his face in the pillow and sighed. He hadn’t realized that was exactly what he needed to hear... but, yeah. It had been exactly what he needed to hear. “You really do know the right things to say.”
“I know everything. That’s why I’m the Master of Dimilioc. Go to sleep.”
“You don’t know everything,” Miguel told him, drowsily. “Way too much, though. Makes you damn hard to outmaneuver.” He blinked into the pillow. “I don’t think I meant to say that.”
The Master merely answered, his deep voice amused, “You don’t have to say it for me to know you’re thinking it. Go to sleep, Miguel. That’s an order.”
The Death’s Lady trilogy:
• The Year’s Midnight: This is different from Neumeier’s other stories, although it is actually just a prelude to a story which isn’t very different at all.
Dr Daniel Dodson has started a new job at Lindenwood, a psychiatric institution. One of his patients is a silent and deeply angry woman called Tenai. Slowly she tells him pieces of her story. She claims to come from another world. After her family were killed by an evil king, she became Death’s Lady and embarked on a long war, seeking revenge.
It is reasonably obvious to the reader that Tenai is telling the truth. Of course, Daniel doesn’t realise that he’s in a novel by a fantasy author, and so he doesn’t believe her. But I really like how this doesn’t actually undermine his ability to help. Because he believes that: Tenai fully believes what she’s telling him, her story contains important “symbolic” truths, and moreover, that his job isn’t to get her to remember what actually happened. His job is to help her to understand and manage her anger, so that she’s not a danger to herself or others and is able to leave the institution.
This is compelling. I really liked it. To Daniel, despite her quiet attitude, she looked in that first moment like a burning flame; like a stroke of lighting captured and frozen in human form. He had to fight an impulse to shield his eyes with his hand, as though she had literally been alight.
There it was. Daniel had not framed it that clearly to himself, had not precisely expected it, certainly had not expected it right now, at this precise moment. But he recognized it instantly: the heart of the problem and the heart of the cure, bound up together. As always, the patient was the one to find it. His role was to help her accept the truth she had discovered. He said gently, “We all fail. Sometimes in terrible ways. Sometimes we push our failures off onto other people and blame them instead. Sometimes it’s just so much easier to do that.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, head still bent. “Yes, I see that is so. You give me new eyes, doctor, and I thank you, but how am I to endure this new sight you have given me?”
The book also contains the shorter interlude story, “Chase”, which is mostly from the perspective of a martial arts instructor who gives Tenai Chase a job. It answers questions about what Tenai does after she leaves Lindenwood and while that’s interesting, my initial impression was that the story wasn’t really necessary. But having read the rest of the trilogy, I’ve revised that opinion. There are some important developments, most notably in setting up Daniel’s daughter’s relationship with Tenai.
• Of Absence, Darkness: Sixteen years later, Daniel has become friends with his former patient Tenai and his daughter Jenna is graduating college. When an enemy summons Tenai back to her own world, the spell brings Daniel and Jenna with her. While Daniel and Jenna adjust to life in a different new world, Tenai tries to avoid re-starting a war.
This story quietly simmers with tension -- until suddenly it boils over. I liked seeing the portal-fantasy-experience from the perspective of a middle-aged father, that’s definitely different! And, as with Neumeier’s other stories, I really liked the characters’ interactions -- I quickly became invested, wanting to see certain characters get along with each other, even as I appreciated that this wouldn’t happen easily.
I particularly enjoyed the contrast of Daniel and Jenna’s relationships with Tenai compared with how everyone else views her. In Tenai’s world, she’s a legendary figure, dangerous, warlike and awe-inspiring. But to Daniel she’s a close friend whose emotional wellbeing he’s allowed to question and express concern about, and to Jenna, she’s been a martial arts instructor and remains an important mentor.Daniel said, “Tenai ... is Keitah Terusai-e your enemy, now?”
Her dark eyes turned to him at once. “I should not imagine so, Daniel. Though I understand why you inquire. But once Terusai-e has opportunity to reflect, I believe he, too, will perceive the hand of God in the remarkable chance that set his brother in my way. Indeed, one could hardly mistake it.”
Jenna made a little sound, and, when Tenai’s attention turned to her, asked, “Do you really think God made your paths cross?” Clearly she wanted the answer to be Yes. Daniel could see that his daughter found the whole story terribly romantic - a tragic romance: the mistake made in youth followed by ten years in exile, and then - one presumed - redemption. Only, Daniel knew, as his daughter had not yet discovered, that redemption is not always so easy to come by. And that the real world does not always feel compelled to follow the desired storyline.
Tenai said, “Jenna, my bright child, this is not your home. You must have a guide and a guard. Ladies of the court must, if they would go out into the city. If you do not, you must be imprisoned in this court as surely as though in a cage.”
“Yeah? You don’t have a guard, I bet. And you aren’t imprisoned.”
Tenai barely smiled. “So, well. But I am an exception to many rules. In time you may be also, but I should be failing in my duty toward you if I suggested you emulate my example just now. You must first learn the customs, my child, so you may discard them to purpose.”
The rebellious look eased. Jenna even seemed entertained by this last comment. “Well ... I still say it’s stupid. But okay. For a while.”
I’m not a fan of the title but it kind of fits? Or maybe it’s grown on me.
• As Shadow, a Light: Arguably this is just the second half of Of Absence, Darkness, although because Jenna becomes a POV character, I think there’s enough difference to justify it being published as a separate book.
The book alternates between Jenna and Daniel, a welcome development and not only because she offers a different perspective to her father’s. Daniel is caught in an intensely stressful situation and I think the narrative would have felt far more claustrophobic if the focus had all been on him. Jenna’s circumstances are stressful too, but she’s less constrained and less isolated than Daniel is, and the progress she’s making towards her goals is more obvious.
I liked that her adventures allow her to meet a greater variety of people, and give her a wider understanding of this world.
This was very gripping. And it has a satisfying resolution -- the right sort of ending for this sort of story. I want to reread the whole trilogy now. Running for your life from the bad guys, she thought with a certain irritation, seemed to involve a lot more boredom and physical discomfort than actual running, and to take absolutely forever.
Originally @ Dreamwidth.