Steven Erikson - Deadhouse Gates - Review

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Deadhouse Gates by Steven Erikson *** 1/2
Second Volume of A Tale of the Malazon Book of the Fallen
Rating: Good - 3 1/2 out of 5 stars

There are a few questions that are probably as old as time itself: Is there no end to human strife? Or, is there no end to human stupidity? How about, human misery? Or, villainy? If you have ever asked yourself any of the above questions, Steven Erikson thinks he has the answer in Deadhouse Gates, his sequel to Gardens of the Moon. And his answer is: “Why no, no, there isn’t.” At least that is how it appears in Deadhouse Gates, which is a long, drawn out parade of all the above human, and inhumane, calamities. Of course, the story is a bit more than that, but that is the singular impression which one may come away with after reading this hefty installment of The Malazan Book of the Fallen.

The book is in many ways very different from its predecessor. If the plotting in Gardens moves like lightening, Deadhouse Gates crawls along at a snail’s pace; if the characters seemed a little underdeveloped in Gardens, we find out more about some of the characters than we will ever need to know about in this tale. Nevertheless, the main characters are memorable and are rendered quite well, while others are still out there somewhere in the distance, such as Laseen and Tavore. And although both are central figures in the story, they are but shadows on Deadhouse's vast stage.

The setting of Deadhouse is Raraku, the big, hot sandy desert, and the Seven Cities, which are in the state of a rebellion against the Empire. This is the biggest disappointment of the story. One can only take so much blowing sand storms, with “sand getting into everything” and characters with “parched throats,” “cracked lips” and “swollen eyes” for so long before it gets really old – let alone some 500 pages of it. And of course there are the tribal hordes, which resemble the Chinese hordes in their seemingly endless multitudes, and their ability to move quickly and with ease in a place that everyone else, in great misery and difficulty, crawls across.

The “good guys” of the story are still those veterans who make up the discontented ranks of the Empire’s army: We have the return of Kalan, Fiddler, and assorted hosts, from the Bridgeburners, and Duiker, the Imperial Historian of the army, as well as an allotment of new veterans: Kulp, Stormy, Truth, etc. As a twist on the story we have the continuation of the Paran family’s saga with both sisters, who are somewhat estranged (actually more like mortal enemies), and are, like their brother, at the center of the conflict, which is wrecking havoc on two continents at this point in the tale.

The story opens with Felisin, the younger Paran sister, who has been sent to the mines by her sister, Tavore, who is the new adjunct to the Empress. We know she is destined for some significant occurrence in the opening scene, where Hood appears before her, and singles her out from the crowd of prisoners (which can’t be that promising, since he is the God of Death). From there Felisin and her two traveling companions, two of the most human and memorable characters of the entire tale - Heboric Light Touch, and Baudin - begin their journey of transformation which makes up the central thread of the story. There are three other main plotlines: The Bridgeburners in their quest to kill the Empress, which is mentioned earlier, is a continuation from Gardens.

The third is the quest of Coltaine, commander of the 7th Army and his attempt to save the refugees who are fleeing the rebellion of the Seven Cities and the tribal hordes of the “Army of the Apocalypse.” This is also known as the “Chain of Dogs.” A very heroic attempt to fight their way across hundreds of leagues of desert carrying what water and provisions they can bear, while constantly being attacked by the hordes of the rebellion. The main character of this thread is Duiker, the historian, and again another memorable character, who helps make this story a little more humane.

The fourth plotline in the story is quite odd, considering the main thrust of the story. It involves two characters who aren’t human, or seem to have any interest in whatever else is happening in the story. One is the Trell, Mappo, the other, a lost Ascendant, a Jaghut, Icarium. Neither are humans, but beings of great power, and members of the “Path of Hands.” Their quest is to locate the source of a “convergence of powers,” which is connected to the appearance of a Deadhouse Gate. The gate is some sort of living, organic hyper-traveling device, which also attracts powerful creatures and imprisons them. The Gate is thought to be a device that may help Icarium discover who he really is.

There are minor threads that run through the tale, such as the strange, romantic interest between Crokos and Apsalar, who are holdovers from Gardens. And then there is the appearance of Pust, high priest of Shadowthrone and like, Mappo and Icarium a member of the “Path of Hands.” Like any other epic tale, there is the usual assortment of wholly despicable villains, who are off on self-serving quests of their own.

The tale is a load of strife, villainy, suffering, and at times, downright stupidity, all culminating in the gory and inhumane deaths of tens of thousands of soldiers, refugees, escapees, old folk, women, babies, boys, girls, children of all ages, horses, and even a few dogs thrown in for good measure (what, no camels?), mostly as a result of the over inflated barbarism and bloodlust of the desert tribal locals and the blundering, incompetence and treachery of a few officials who are well-placed in the Imperial ranks. Laseen’s apparent incompetence makes one wonder why it’s only the Bridgeburners who are out to do the Empress in. The story is a long repetition of bloated, rotting, eyeless corpses, and splattered pools of blood, urine, bile, entrails, etc, etc, etc.

Nevertheless, some of the elements which made Gardens such a great book are missing from Deadhouse. Aside from just a few scenes, the Gods and Ascendants, who made Gardens so interesting, are mostly missing in action here. Also, the Deck of Dragons appears to be in short supply in Rakaru. In fact, in one scene, near the close of the book, one character asks, “Have you seen a Deck of Dragons?” The answer is something like: “Well, not in quite a while.” You can say that again. Also, the plot moves way to slow, especially compared to its predecessor. Furthermore, the ending of Gardens was much more satisfying, mostly because of the way in which the intricate threads intersected each other so flawlessly. In Deadhouse, the attempt seems a bit forced, and somewhat awkward. But on balance this is still a pretty good book, saved mostly by the strength of its memorable characters who possess both depth and humanity, despite Erikson’s foreboding, dark and violent world.

[ May 03, 2005, 17:20: Message edited by: Chandos the Red ]

 

Cool. This is the first time we have had two review of the same book. This review is more detailed and more eloquent than mine. I thought this book was brilliant but I can see where Chandos is coming from as it is a very slow book, possibly the slowest of them all (except maybe Midnight Tides).

 

I can completely see where you are coming from Chandos and I agro more or less completely with your review. Well, except for your dislike for bleakness and darkness people dying all the time I think that in almost all cases makes a book better.

The only plotline I really had/have problem with in Gates is the Felisin one.

Icarium pops up in all books without anyone really understanding what he is for the story. You get to know that he is old, powerful and someone you really do not want to make angry.

Despite me agreeing with you Chandos I still found Gates to be wickedly awesome, like with all the Erikson books I trudged through and sighed and thought it was too much but when I was finished I just leaned back and thought: Wow, what a wicked book.

 

Joacquin's comments sum it for me. Erikson's mastery of the climactic ending means that your last memory of the book is the best one.

 

It seems everyone is pretty much in agreement, but I also think that the hopelessness and misery of the chain of dogs is what makes the book so good.

 

I thought that one was really good.

SPOILERS AHEAD

The weakest of the different stories to me was the chain of dogs. A trail of tears duly recorded by the impiral historian. The stoicism of Duiker and the pertaining humility (just a solider after all). Duty, sacrifice, necessary fatalism and unavoidable failure in the end. (The Trell story ends with similar theme -> friendship that should not be and a damocles sword hanging over them).

But I liked all the other stories. Characters like Pust or Gessler-Stormy-Truth were the much needed comical relief, while the Feisin story-line provided me with attaching characters. I liked the fallen Fener-Priest (cynisism requires a whole lot of idealism) and the loyal body-guard.

And Feisin... the callous heart that no tears can soak. Poor little narcissistic bitch too obsessed with (quite reasonable) angst and self-loathing and building thick walls around her, projecting her self-hate on everything that crosses her path. But that's just another way of dealing with hopelessness and unbearable pain, permanent self-crucifixion and preventive hurting of others. Yet the Fener priest still lingers on, can not stop caring.

 

Yes, I agree with that. You will get a bit more background info in Memories of Ice on some of this, as well as a bit of foreshadowing of where other parts of the threads in Deadhouse Gates may be heading. Unfortunately, it will be 6 months before House of Chains will be released here in the US.

 

I'm not sure I agree with the idea that the plot moves at a snail's pace in Deadhouse Gates. Granted, I'm only 140 pages or so in, but it seems to be moving along at a reasonable clip.

 

Have we worked out why yet? That still seems bizarre to me. It has been out in crummy old New Zealand for ages.

Sure, the plot of Deadhouse Gates does move at a snail's pace, but that is how Erikson writes. I prefer to call it 'slow-burning'. The tension builds up over a long period and gives you more time to get to know the characters. It's fantastic.

 

Hobb is still the master for me.

 

They're different writers. Hobb does 3 or 4 characters really well in a tightly focused story. Erikson is the master of 100 characters in a continent wide epic. Both great, but completely different types of writing.

 

That was a comparison between Gardens and Deadhouse. The plot of Gardens does move very fast compared to Deadhouse Gates and Memories of Ice. Harbourboy would be more familiar with the other books in the series as well, since I've only read the three that I have reviewed here. Nevertheless, Deadhouse Gates moves like lightening compared to Fool's Errand by Hobb. After the first 200+ pages I still don't feel as if I have even left Fizt's front porch yet, or at least his front yard (I know Fitz hasn't - well, there was that walk down to the beach...). Now, that's slow. I forgot his one trip to the local market with Hap to sell some beans...

[ February 18, 2006, 07:00: Message edited by: Chandos the Red ]

 

How come you're reading Fool's Errand? Tut tut, you're going to ruin the best series of books ever .

 

I have to second what BA's saying. Bad idea to start with the Tawny Man books, Chandos.

I just finished Deadhouse Gates, and that book had the most horrifying climax of any novel I can recall reading in the past year. The power of the climax was weakened a bit by the...oh, I guess I need a spoiler marker.

*spoilers* *spoilers* *spoilers*
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...hints that Duiker was brought back to life (gee, life after crucifixion. Jesus, anyone?) and that Coltaine was reincarnated. On the other hand, if it hadn't been for those hints, the book would have left the reader with an extraordinarily depressing ending. I suppose that's to be avoided.

 

Ok, you guys have convinced me...I will leave off where I currently am in _Fool's Errand_ and wait until I can pick up a copy of the first installment of the Farseer books. I mostly know what happens anyway, since Hobb has spent the first 200+ pages of _Errand_ in the way of exposition of the first books anyway. Thus, I am already familiar with Fitz's situation. I love Hobb's characters, but despise Hobb's somewhat pedestrain approach to the narrative and the way in which it unflolds:

"Did you check on the chickens, Hap?"
"Yes, but I really wanted to be making some cabinets, Dad."
"Yes, but did you remember to feed the pony?"
"No, Dad, but the beans are doing well...." zzzzzZZZZ

Still, I want to know more about this Hedge Witch...

 

Strangely enough, I also thought that Ginna was quite intriguing. More Down-To-Earth instead of depressed and self-obsessed like our would-be-king hermit. Both feet on the ground and a trade of her own. But rest assured, there's another girl next door in the first trilogy that has her own stubborn views. There's only one romantic story for Fitz and that's the one with the calves of the girl in red. Even if the hedge-witch speaks of two.

You can't appreciate the constant longing and the nightly reaching out withou having read the first trilogy. And the first tawny-man book is really a getting in touch with important characters from the first trilogy -> Starling, chade and the Fool and that queen.

 

Just a note for anyone who's interested; amazon.com's selling the hardcover version of Gardens of the Moon for $6. If you want a hardcover copy, now's the time. Plus, you can make Tal happy.

[Click here. -Tal]

[ February 22, 2006, 14:17: Message edited by: Taluntain ]