I really liked His Magesty's Dragon except for.......
Actually it began perfectly, and after all how could I not love it? Being a hard-core Napoleonic Wars buff, who has walked virtually every important battlefield of those wars from Spain to Poland, amassed a large collection of Napoleonic battlefield artifacts, and having participated in numerous battle reenactments leading two units, including participation at the biggest anniversaries of Waterloo and Leipzig. Added to that, I am a dragon fan as well, who is just completing probably the most in-depth book ever written about the dragons of the Bible. So what a boon for me to see two of my favorite, though divergent interests wrapped up in a single package, with many promising reviews to boot. <*lj-cut>
And it began great, like a classic tale from the logbook of Captains “Lucky” Jack Aubrey or Horatio Hornblower. The dialogue seemed very realistic for the turn of the 19th century, and the writer obviously did some research on the Napoleonic-era British Navy. Even at first glance, the dragons seemed to be more sophisticated than the simplistic, overly loyal and obedient, slavish “puppy dog” dragons of most “dragon rider” stories no matter the time and place they are set.
My, this is certainly a switch, I thought, as we are first introduced to Tremeraire. This hatchling dragon doesn’t even have to accept a human master to lead him into certain death in some mindless human political struggle no real dragon would actually give a damn about. No, if the dragon wants to, he can tell them all to go to hell and retire in comfort to a dragon stud farm and between the ardurous task of impregnating female dragons, can instead read the Times of London, and chuckle over the silly humans slaughtering each other on the battlefields of Napoleonic era Europe.
Okay, it wouldn’t be much of a story if the starring dragon chose that comfortable but boring existence, but what a refreshing switch from the formula of every standard dragon-rider novel in which every dragon from the shell must become the doltish, loving slave of his human rider/master. So the dragon decides to take the King’s Schilling, and being smarter than the average dragon, quite astutely selects the most capable and senior person on the ship to be his life mate. Well, that was expected, but even so, we still have some very novel surprises ahead, interwoven with a realistic plot of how a promising naval captain’s life has turned upside down by becoming a member of King George’s most unique military arm, the Aerial Corps.
And far more unconventional is this force than we can imagine, for though the dragons are essentially the “mounts” for human warriors, the closely guarded secret is revealed to Captain Laurence that the commander of the training school is in fact a dragon, to which all humans there are his subordinates,. and who has apparently been chief trainer of the Aerial Corps for at least 200 years! And by this time we also learn, that while some dragons seem to be no more intelligent than any average “scum of the earth” British Redcoat of Wellington’s Army, many are remarkably intelligent and the brightest of all seems to be the mysterious Temeraire.
But now some inexplicable flaws begin to appear in this otherwise, up until now seamless story. We learn that the British parliament had proposed to execute every dragon in the country that refused to join his King’s forces. And we also hear of the French guillotining dragons with loyalist tendencies. Hmmmm, what is wrong with this picture?
Well for one thing, we have a race of incredibly large, powerful and intelligent creatures, who if we examine the “world” of Laurence and Temeraire in an intelligent manner, would actually control the balance of power in Europe, and possibly the world, yet the author of the story herself does not seem able to grasp this. How easy does the author think it can be to kill a 100 foot long, intelligent, armor scaled flying reptile with 18th century technology. I seem to recall an account during the Texas Revolution of musket balls harmlesly bouncing off of the back of a 12 foot alligator, and here we are talking about a 100 foot long flying cousin to one!
In fact, without the help of another dragon, it would probably be near impossible for a human of that age, or times earlier to kill any adult dragon described in the book, and had the dragons wanted to, could have controlled this world. So would the dragons of the Royal Aerial Corps sit back and do nothing if they heard all of their dragon friends and relatives who did not accept the harness were to be slaughtered? And who would do the slaughtering? Would the parliamentarians imagine the Aerial Corps’ dragons obliging killing their own kind to save British tax dollars, or sit idly by while puny humans without the help of dragons attempt the impossible mass genocide? I think not, and it is here where this otherwise excellent book finally succumbs to the silliness and implausibility of virtually every other “dragon-rider” fantasy.
This ridiculous notion even contradicts the very plot, for we learn there is simply not enough dragons being bred in Britain to match the greater numbers of the French, so how would killing all the breeding stock accomplish anything, (besides creating a dragon mutiny that could very well wipe out the entire human population of Britain?). No, it is very clear many of the dragons, particularly the most devastatingly powerful ones are intelligent enough to clearly see the danger to their own existence if such a thing were ever suggested, and of course no such thing ever would have been proposed in the first place because the dragons, if they cared to unite instead of fight each other, could control this world. Why such a ridiculous comment would even be mentioned in this story is an unfortunate mystery.
And the same thing applies to the French, of course. How would anyone propose to put a naturally unwilling, 20 ton, 100 foot long dragon in a dragon-sized, giant guillotine? Only more dragons could accomplish it, and should we really think the dragons themselves care about the petty politics of the humans? If the dragons didn’t want one of their number to be executed because of meaningless human, political reasons, nothing would prevent them from deserting the Emperor’s Grande Armee and joining any one of the many countries allied against France. And how could their usually dragon loving human riders object to the dragons desire to preserve their own kind in defernce to human politics?
So you see, if this world of men and dragons really existed, it would be the dragons, and not the men who were actually in control of the situation, and if the author had picked up on this stark reality in the world of her own creation, what an even more impressive, unique and interesting story this would have been.
We can imagine then, in the “real” world of Temeraire the humans would go on “thinking” they were in charge of everything (save for the already admitted dragon-controlled base in Scotland). The generals and politicians would be free to dictate their strategies and the dragons on every side would sincerely “fight” for the country that lavishly feeds them. But how hard would these intelligent dragons fight for political reasons meaningless to them.? Would they ever risk death or serious injury to attain the political goals of “their humans”? Why ever should they? No, being natural predators they would probably revel in slaughtering and likely even devouring enemy soldiers and horses, but would not be compelled to take any unnecessary risks to themselves, for why should they? If war became too boring, or too dangerous, they would simply “quit” one side and offer their services to the other. And while it might be said this could not happen because the dragons have somehow been imprinted/bred to be blindly obedient, this is contradicted by the fact any dragon can refuse to serve, and also Temeraire’s own words that the French dragon, was not a mindless slave to his rider’s treachery, but knew right from wrong and was responsible for his actions.
This would make the story far more realistic and no less exciting. While no dragon would reduce himself to the barbarism of gutting or spraying acid on another dragon, the battles would be nonetheless just as decisive as the dragons would still kill the men and horses of the enemy, but aerial combat would be reduced to largely bloodless affairs (for the dragons, at least). We can imagine the objects of these fights, aside from destroying ground targets, would be for the dragons to snatch the riders off their enemies backs, and while no dragon would want to lose his rider (most of the time, at least), there would probably be unwritten rules between the opposing dragons that “deadly force” would never be used against another dragon. And what would the humans do to “punish” an enormous dragon that wasn’t behaving “stupid” enough to risk being killed in battle? Take away his cow ration, and probably end up on the menu instead?
So in the “real” world of Temeraire, Emperors, Marshals and Generals would not only have to be excellent tacticians, and full of charisma, to lead men to their deaths, but to be successful they must also be experts on keeping their dragons content, lest they simply quit or join the other side. What interesting campaigns would have been in store, in future Tremeraire novels, had the actual reality of early 19th century humans living in a world of mighty dragons had actually been depicted here, instead of the stereotypical, dumb, self-sacrificing dragons which have made every other dragon-rider war story a similar absurdity.
Someone might say such a world where immensely powerful and intelligent dragons would quite understandably look after their own comfort and self-preservation first, would be too chaotic and unfeasible, but such would not be the case at all. According to the story, dragons have already been enlisted in human wars since the days of the Roman Empire so we can presume that for some 2,000 years at least, the most powerful creatures of this alternative world would have realized their own technological failings and decided long before not to eat the humans into extinction, but rather, “play” the part of their trusty flying steeds so long as it was a relatively safe and entertaining experience. After all, by doing so, they have enjoyed a far higher standard of living by allowing the humans to basically “run things”, with medicines, servants to groom them, and always plenty of fat, farm bred domestic animals to feed upon. We can even assume at one time in this alternative world the dragons may have attempted to “take over”, but realized it was a pointless enterprise considering all of their needs were taken care of by a human race that required their services in war.
I am also afraid that the Napoleonic era would probably mark the twilight of this world's curious human-dragon relationship where the far more powerful dragons "let" the humans essentially run things so long as their creature comforts are served. For later in that very century, human civilation would for the first time develop weaponry that would truly be dangerous to a dragon. And enough of the dragons would be smart enough, as the story confirms, to realize this, and unite all of the world's dragons to destroy human technology (if not all the humans themselves), before more modern weapons would be developed that would indeed make it possible for humans to kill dragons if they "thought it would save tax dollars".
Well, that was the biggest thing wrong with such an otherwise enjoyable book, but suppose I should touch on a few more minor points. Most noticeable of course, is the problem of dragon flight. Most often in dragon-flyer fantasy this is not even addressed, or since most of these stories have a magical element, we can attribute the ability of these creatures to fly, despite their immense bulk, to some supernatural means.
But so far, the world of Temeraire is relatively realistic (save for how really dumb the otherwise intelligent dragons are when it comes to being manipulated by humans), with no working magic, much like our own world. But unlike the dragons in most fantasy worlds these dragons, in fact, are more “magical” than most in their fantastic ability to lift incredible amounts of weight, including, as we have seen, huge “ships” full of thousands of men. The author explains this unique ability due to “air sacks” in their bodies presumably filled with an inert, lighter than air gas, but when we consider how huge a dirigible must be just to carry a much smaller payload than the crew of Temeraire, then this explanation is quite unfeasible.
Perhaps the most logical explanation would be that there happens to be less gravity on this version of earth than on our own. Barring that, we can imagine that dragons have discovered some “mind over matter” ability to defy gravity and can "levitate" their bodies like an oriental mystic, though would still require their wings for propulsion.
Then we come to the far more minor inconsistencies such as the rather strange system of “rank” in the Aerial Corps. Why would the “captain” of a small scout or messenger dragon be of equal rank to the “captain” of a huge dragon crewed by a whole detachment? Very simply, he wouldn’t. Just as in the British Navy of the era, a lower ranking person would ride/command a small ship or dragon, and a higher ranking person would command a large ahip or dragon. Therefore you would not see a Post Captain commanding a tiny schooner, maybe a lieutenant. This means, if someone had the connections to guarantee being accepted by a large species of dragon, (and this is never certain for the dragon may refuse everyone), the Aerial Corps would not be the place for someone seeking advancement. What we could imagine however, is that a squadron of small scout dragons, each ridden by an ensign or lieutenant, would be commanded by a captain who would also ride the same type of scout dragon. This would have been the only way for Captain Rankin with his little Levitas to be of equivalent rank to Captain Laurence with the huge Temeraire and his large human crew. But then again, the whole plot complication of their dispute over the bad treatment of the foolish Levitas would have been moot as well if this had been a “real” world. For after all, any rider so stupid to treat a dragon so badly would surely expect to be eaten and reported “missing” as a presumed deserter. And even if the dragon were so naïve as Levitas to not even realize his mistreatment, it wouldn’t matter, for a bigger, wiser dragon would be sure to take care of the “problem”, and again, how do you discipline a 20 ton 100 foot long dragon for protecting a smaller one? Very simply, you don’t. You simply don’t anger them,
and keep them content enough to participate in the little human war at hand.
Another strange circumstance was the fact that none of the other dragons save Temeraire understood the concept of swimming or bathing in water. This seems extremely odd considering how much of the earth’s surface is covered with water, and also the fact that virtually every other reptile enjoys soaking itself. So in the “real” world of Temeraire we can imagine that most, if not all dragons would enjoy a daily bath, so campaign routes and battlefields would have to be picked primarily because the places would afford the dragons’ comfortable bathing places. Thus, in this alternative Napoleonic world, as much as Wellington might wish to make his stand at Waterloo due to the excellent defensive qualities of the terrain, he may well have had to pick slightly less suitable ground in a place where his dragons could enjoy a decent bath, lest they fly off to the channel coast to take one at probably the most inopportune time.
Dragon eating habits also seemed a bit inconsistent with that of similarly large carnivorous reptiles of the real world. These dragons are extremely sloppy eaters, with even quite large dragons tearing their prey to shreds and leaving large portions of it on the outside of their bodies instead of inside, (which is the general point of ingesting food). In truth, even the smallest adult dragons in Temeraire’s world (which are still enormous, T-Rex sized monsters by human standards), would still be quite capable of swallowing whole, sheep and goats and when the opportunity presented itself, undoubtedly the occasional human of the “enemy” country, (though the latter would likely be frowned upon by their supposed human “masters” though there would likely be nothing they could do about it than to politely ask them not to). And dragons the size of Tremeraire, which by no means is among the largest, could probably swallow a whole horse or cow, and not waste half of the meal splattered all over their bodies as the author repeatedly describes. After all, a Komodo dragon can swallow a whole pig almost one third of its own body weight, though admittedly, they can be messy when ingesting anything to big to swallow in one piece, but these dragons are all huge by comparison to a Komodo monitor lizard.
To say anymore would be nitpicking, and I do not want to do this for despite my disappointments, it is still a wonderful book. I would echo all of the good points mentioned in the many favorable reviews and say that the dragons and humans alike have much more depth of character than most, in other dragon-related books. I would also say how much more difficult it is to write good historical fiction, than mere fantasy where there are virtually no parameters to be followed or real research to undertaken.
This will probably remain one of my favorite dragon-related fantasy books because it is also such a well-written and researched historical novel. Needless to say, I am hopelessly hooked and will buy every new book in the series, despite my cringing over the aforementioned aspects that will always make the stories implausible and unbelievable to me, however well researched and written, the future adventures of Laurence and Temeraire will be.
And it began great, like a classic tale from the logbook of Captains “Lucky” Jack Aubrey or Horatio Hornblower. The dialogue seemed very realistic for the turn of the 19th century, and the writer obviously did some research on the Napoleonic-era British Navy. Even at first glance, the dragons seemed to be more sophisticated than the simplistic, overly loyal and obedient, slavish “puppy dog” dragons of most “dragon rider” stories no matter the time and place they are set.
My, this is certainly a switch, I thought, as we are first introduced to Tremeraire. This hatchling dragon doesn’t even have to accept a human master to lead him into certain death in some mindless human political struggle no real dragon would actually give a damn about. No, if the dragon wants to, he can tell them all to go to hell and retire in comfort to a dragon stud farm and between the ardurous task of impregnating female dragons, can instead read the Times of London, and chuckle over the silly humans slaughtering each other on the battlefields of Napoleonic era Europe.
Okay, it wouldn’t be much of a story if the starring dragon chose that comfortable but boring existence, but what a refreshing switch from the formula of every standard dragon-rider novel in which every dragon from the shell must become the doltish, loving slave of his human rider/master. So the dragon decides to take the King’s Schilling, and being smarter than the average dragon, quite astutely selects the most capable and senior person on the ship to be his life mate. Well, that was expected, but even so, we still have some very novel surprises ahead, interwoven with a realistic plot of how a promising naval captain’s life has turned upside down by becoming a member of King George’s most unique military arm, the Aerial Corps.
And far more unconventional is this force than we can imagine, for though the dragons are essentially the “mounts” for human warriors, the closely guarded secret is revealed to Captain Laurence that the commander of the training school is in fact a dragon, to which all humans there are his subordinates,. and who has apparently been chief trainer of the Aerial Corps for at least 200 years! And by this time we also learn, that while some dragons seem to be no more intelligent than any average “scum of the earth” British Redcoat of Wellington’s Army, many are remarkably intelligent and the brightest of all seems to be the mysterious Temeraire.
But now some inexplicable flaws begin to appear in this otherwise, up until now seamless story. We learn that the British parliament had proposed to execute every dragon in the country that refused to join his King’s forces. And we also hear of the French guillotining dragons with loyalist tendencies. Hmmmm, what is wrong with this picture?
Well for one thing, we have a race of incredibly large, powerful and intelligent creatures, who if we examine the “world” of Laurence and Temeraire in an intelligent manner, would actually control the balance of power in Europe, and possibly the world, yet the author of the story herself does not seem able to grasp this. How easy does the author think it can be to kill a 100 foot long, intelligent, armor scaled flying reptile with 18th century technology. I seem to recall an account during the Texas Revolution of musket balls harmlesly bouncing off of the back of a 12 foot alligator, and here we are talking about a 100 foot long flying cousin to one!
In fact, without the help of another dragon, it would probably be near impossible for a human of that age, or times earlier to kill any adult dragon described in the book, and had the dragons wanted to, could have controlled this world. So would the dragons of the Royal Aerial Corps sit back and do nothing if they heard all of their dragon friends and relatives who did not accept the harness were to be slaughtered? And who would do the slaughtering? Would the parliamentarians imagine the Aerial Corps’ dragons obliging killing their own kind to save British tax dollars, or sit idly by while puny humans without the help of dragons attempt the impossible mass genocide? I think not, and it is here where this otherwise excellent book finally succumbs to the silliness and implausibility of virtually every other “dragon-rider” fantasy.
This ridiculous notion even contradicts the very plot, for we learn there is simply not enough dragons being bred in Britain to match the greater numbers of the French, so how would killing all the breeding stock accomplish anything, (besides creating a dragon mutiny that could very well wipe out the entire human population of Britain?). No, it is very clear many of the dragons, particularly the most devastatingly powerful ones are intelligent enough to clearly see the danger to their own existence if such a thing were ever suggested, and of course no such thing ever would have been proposed in the first place because the dragons, if they cared to unite instead of fight each other, could control this world. Why such a ridiculous comment would even be mentioned in this story is an unfortunate mystery.
And the same thing applies to the French, of course. How would anyone propose to put a naturally unwilling, 20 ton, 100 foot long dragon in a dragon-sized, giant guillotine? Only more dragons could accomplish it, and should we really think the dragons themselves care about the petty politics of the humans? If the dragons didn’t want one of their number to be executed because of meaningless human, political reasons, nothing would prevent them from deserting the Emperor’s Grande Armee and joining any one of the many countries allied against France. And how could their usually dragon loving human riders object to the dragons desire to preserve their own kind in defernce to human politics?
So you see, if this world of men and dragons really existed, it would be the dragons, and not the men who were actually in control of the situation, and if the author had picked up on this stark reality in the world of her own creation, what an even more impressive, unique and interesting story this would have been.
We can imagine then, in the “real” world of Temeraire the humans would go on “thinking” they were in charge of everything (save for the already admitted dragon-controlled base in Scotland). The generals and politicians would be free to dictate their strategies and the dragons on every side would sincerely “fight” for the country that lavishly feeds them. But how hard would these intelligent dragons fight for political reasons meaningless to them.? Would they ever risk death or serious injury to attain the political goals of “their humans”? Why ever should they? No, being natural predators they would probably revel in slaughtering and likely even devouring enemy soldiers and horses, but would not be compelled to take any unnecessary risks to themselves, for why should they? If war became too boring, or too dangerous, they would simply “quit” one side and offer their services to the other. And while it might be said this could not happen because the dragons have somehow been imprinted/bred to be blindly obedient, this is contradicted by the fact any dragon can refuse to serve, and also Temeraire’s own words that the French dragon, was not a mindless slave to his rider’s treachery, but knew right from wrong and was responsible for his actions.
This would make the story far more realistic and no less exciting. While no dragon would reduce himself to the barbarism of gutting or spraying acid on another dragon, the battles would be nonetheless just as decisive as the dragons would still kill the men and horses of the enemy, but aerial combat would be reduced to largely bloodless affairs (for the dragons, at least). We can imagine the objects of these fights, aside from destroying ground targets, would be for the dragons to snatch the riders off their enemies backs, and while no dragon would want to lose his rider (most of the time, at least), there would probably be unwritten rules between the opposing dragons that “deadly force” would never be used against another dragon. And what would the humans do to “punish” an enormous dragon that wasn’t behaving “stupid” enough to risk being killed in battle? Take away his cow ration, and probably end up on the menu instead?
So in the “real” world of Temeraire, Emperors, Marshals and Generals would not only have to be excellent tacticians, and full of charisma, to lead men to their deaths, but to be successful they must also be experts on keeping their dragons content, lest they simply quit or join the other side. What interesting campaigns would have been in store, in future Tremeraire novels, had the actual reality of early 19th century humans living in a world of mighty dragons had actually been depicted here, instead of the stereotypical, dumb, self-sacrificing dragons which have made every other dragon-rider war story a similar absurdity.
Someone might say such a world where immensely powerful and intelligent dragons would quite understandably look after their own comfort and self-preservation first, would be too chaotic and unfeasible, but such would not be the case at all. According to the story, dragons have already been enlisted in human wars since the days of the Roman Empire so we can presume that for some 2,000 years at least, the most powerful creatures of this alternative world would have realized their own technological failings and decided long before not to eat the humans into extinction, but rather, “play” the part of their trusty flying steeds so long as it was a relatively safe and entertaining experience. After all, by doing so, they have enjoyed a far higher standard of living by allowing the humans to basically “run things”, with medicines, servants to groom them, and always plenty of fat, farm bred domestic animals to feed upon. We can even assume at one time in this alternative world the dragons may have attempted to “take over”, but realized it was a pointless enterprise considering all of their needs were taken care of by a human race that required their services in war.
I am also afraid that the Napoleonic era would probably mark the twilight of this world's curious human-dragon relationship where the far more powerful dragons "let" the humans essentially run things so long as their creature comforts are served. For later in that very century, human civilation would for the first time develop weaponry that would truly be dangerous to a dragon. And enough of the dragons would be smart enough, as the story confirms, to realize this, and unite all of the world's dragons to destroy human technology (if not all the humans themselves), before more modern weapons would be developed that would indeed make it possible for humans to kill dragons if they "thought it would save tax dollars".
Well, that was the biggest thing wrong with such an otherwise enjoyable book, but suppose I should touch on a few more minor points. Most noticeable of course, is the problem of dragon flight. Most often in dragon-flyer fantasy this is not even addressed, or since most of these stories have a magical element, we can attribute the ability of these creatures to fly, despite their immense bulk, to some supernatural means.
But so far, the world of Temeraire is relatively realistic (save for how really dumb the otherwise intelligent dragons are when it comes to being manipulated by humans), with no working magic, much like our own world. But unlike the dragons in most fantasy worlds these dragons, in fact, are more “magical” than most in their fantastic ability to lift incredible amounts of weight, including, as we have seen, huge “ships” full of thousands of men. The author explains this unique ability due to “air sacks” in their bodies presumably filled with an inert, lighter than air gas, but when we consider how huge a dirigible must be just to carry a much smaller payload than the crew of Temeraire, then this explanation is quite unfeasible.
Perhaps the most logical explanation would be that there happens to be less gravity on this version of earth than on our own. Barring that, we can imagine that dragons have discovered some “mind over matter” ability to defy gravity and can "levitate" their bodies like an oriental mystic, though would still require their wings for propulsion.
Then we come to the far more minor inconsistencies such as the rather strange system of “rank” in the Aerial Corps. Why would the “captain” of a small scout or messenger dragon be of equal rank to the “captain” of a huge dragon crewed by a whole detachment? Very simply, he wouldn’t. Just as in the British Navy of the era, a lower ranking person would ride/command a small ship or dragon, and a higher ranking person would command a large ahip or dragon. Therefore you would not see a Post Captain commanding a tiny schooner, maybe a lieutenant. This means, if someone had the connections to guarantee being accepted by a large species of dragon, (and this is never certain for the dragon may refuse everyone), the Aerial Corps would not be the place for someone seeking advancement. What we could imagine however, is that a squadron of small scout dragons, each ridden by an ensign or lieutenant, would be commanded by a captain who would also ride the same type of scout dragon. This would have been the only way for Captain Rankin with his little Levitas to be of equivalent rank to Captain Laurence with the huge Temeraire and his large human crew. But then again, the whole plot complication of their dispute over the bad treatment of the foolish Levitas would have been moot as well if this had been a “real” world. For after all, any rider so stupid to treat a dragon so badly would surely expect to be eaten and reported “missing” as a presumed deserter. And even if the dragon were so naïve as Levitas to not even realize his mistreatment, it wouldn’t matter, for a bigger, wiser dragon would be sure to take care of the “problem”, and again, how do you discipline a 20 ton 100 foot long dragon for protecting a smaller one? Very simply, you don’t. You simply don’t anger them,
and keep them content enough to participate in the little human war at hand.
Another strange circumstance was the fact that none of the other dragons save Temeraire understood the concept of swimming or bathing in water. This seems extremely odd considering how much of the earth’s surface is covered with water, and also the fact that virtually every other reptile enjoys soaking itself. So in the “real” world of Temeraire we can imagine that most, if not all dragons would enjoy a daily bath, so campaign routes and battlefields would have to be picked primarily because the places would afford the dragons’ comfortable bathing places. Thus, in this alternative Napoleonic world, as much as Wellington might wish to make his stand at Waterloo due to the excellent defensive qualities of the terrain, he may well have had to pick slightly less suitable ground in a place where his dragons could enjoy a decent bath, lest they fly off to the channel coast to take one at probably the most inopportune time.
Dragon eating habits also seemed a bit inconsistent with that of similarly large carnivorous reptiles of the real world. These dragons are extremely sloppy eaters, with even quite large dragons tearing their prey to shreds and leaving large portions of it on the outside of their bodies instead of inside, (which is the general point of ingesting food). In truth, even the smallest adult dragons in Temeraire’s world (which are still enormous, T-Rex sized monsters by human standards), would still be quite capable of swallowing whole, sheep and goats and when the opportunity presented itself, undoubtedly the occasional human of the “enemy” country, (though the latter would likely be frowned upon by their supposed human “masters” though there would likely be nothing they could do about it than to politely ask them not to). And dragons the size of Tremeraire, which by no means is among the largest, could probably swallow a whole horse or cow, and not waste half of the meal splattered all over their bodies as the author repeatedly describes. After all, a Komodo dragon can swallow a whole pig almost one third of its own body weight, though admittedly, they can be messy when ingesting anything to big to swallow in one piece, but these dragons are all huge by comparison to a Komodo monitor lizard.
To say anymore would be nitpicking, and I do not want to do this for despite my disappointments, it is still a wonderful book. I would echo all of the good points mentioned in the many favorable reviews and say that the dragons and humans alike have much more depth of character than most, in other dragon-related books. I would also say how much more difficult it is to write good historical fiction, than mere fantasy where there are virtually no parameters to be followed or real research to undertaken.
This will probably remain one of my favorite dragon-related fantasy books because it is also such a well-written and researched historical novel. Needless to say, I am hopelessly hooked and will buy every new book in the series, despite my cringing over the aforementioned aspects that will always make the stories implausible and unbelievable to me, however well researched and written, the future adventures of Laurence and Temeraire will be.