The Thousandfold Thought

Fans of epic fantasy love debuts, and even if not true debuts, the introduction to a new sequence by an established author. We enjoy; fresh, new material blazing a trail, that continue us down the path that is our reading experience. This path is not a long one, however, nor complex to navigate; a path well traveled, as up until a few years ago, we would continually retrace our steps searching for the familiar, a hobbit print by a mushroom grove, a black rider. Our joy with one worthy trek, our nostalgia of walking this path caused us to stop traveling all together. Instead we stagnated, amused by depthless echoes, by charlatans performing in the name of paying homage, but they did so with our coin. It’s one of the few mediums where they don’t even attempt to lie to us and advertise promising progression -- ‘better than before’, ‘the next step’ -- instead it is always promising us something ‘in the mold of’ we have already read. We love debuts and opening installments of series, it gives fortuity an opportunity, allows us for a moment to expect the unexpected, offering the possibility of a path not taken, the first few pages a instance where wonder is still truly part of any book. Why? We have been disappointed too many times, finding ourselves retracing our own steps as soon as the opening chapter in some cases, and are accustomed to a tradition of spiraling quality in latter installments. It’s Hobb’s first series that she is best regarded for; we read Eddings’ first series for two decades just under different titles; Robert Jordan through 3 books was ambitious, fourteen years later, the notion of a conclusion to the series seems semi-mythical, if Goodkind ever was bearable it was with his first book, we liked JV Jones, but until recently she has become something like a Martin Hanford creation. Le Guin, while excellent, took decades off to write my favorites part of her Earth Sea sequence, and we no longer are able to look forward to the magic of Vance. Recently, some have been straying from the path -- their own paths -- that are creating a stir from those of us who haven’t abandoned the path altogether, and excitement is no show of mummery, and even more exciting is one of these authors, R. Scott Bakker, has put to conclusion the first trilogy, The Prince of Nothing, the opening arc into a larger sequence that will also include the forthcoming Aspect Emperor. The Thousandfold Thought represents the end of what is simply the single most satisfying sequence I have ever read in epic fantasy, and not only that, it represents a promise kept, one that was given to me during my correspondence with Mr. Bakker early last year:

In a review I did of the first installment, The Darkness that Comes Before, I noted how much I was anticipating Bakker bringing to an end the series, which chronicles a Holy War, and the man who had both usurped and inspired it, in search of his father, and along the way the way has cemented his status as an iconic figure in epic fantasy. Bakker has created a character that troubles some so greatly -- serving as an anathema to the moral sensibilities of some –- that they openly despise the character but yet cannot avert themselves from reading on, as Kellhus, the prince of nothing, the warrior prophet, assimilates everything in sapho-addicted mentat like fashion, at once both seemingly divine, yet still growing in stature, at such a rate where awe almost always supercedes where discretion and reasonable fear should reside, as Kellhus illustrates his complete understanding that an eerie type of chaos can lurk just behind a facade of order---and yet, deep inside the chaos lurks an even eerier type of order*:

He is like an odd combination of a fictionalized Ambrose Bierce and Herbert’s Kwisatz Haderach. While Kellhus remains the at the center of the Bakker’s tale, his continued reestablishment of what had been banal archetypes in the genre, the barbarian, a Prince, a harlot, the sorcerer, as instead of simply allowing us to view the eccentricities and nuances of one central figure through each of their unique perspectives, Bakker gifts them with souls as well. Whether, the most violent of men on a quest for love; a proud lion let loose; a pious prince; the teacher who sleeps with the truth, while denying it while awake; a whore that glitters, Bakker offers the reader the power of choice, by allowing us to be moved with our knowledge of their internal struggles, as if offering an annotated rendering simultaneously with the story. Bakker’s narrative remains one of the most ambitious in epic fantasy. I entitled my review of the first installment, Homeric Jihad, a limited observation on my part, but a choice that reflects simply one aspect of the series that really gives the flows of the story a unique quality. While the interpersonal thoughts are offered to us as character studies by other character, the war itself, and the action, scenes make the branding of ‘epic’ apt, as our vantage zooms out as the narrative turns into panoramic description, truly making the prowess of those perhaps only passingly noted before, into feats that will be recorded in future annals, as if Homer was in Shimeh dictating the tale. This proficiency and willingness to use narratives uncommon to the epic minded is what ultimately makes the work notable, while he doesn’t employ the subtlety of Martin, it’s plainly by choice; where Martin hides his hand and welcomes our speculation, Bakker assumes our conditioned reactions and confronts us with them, making us play stud when we want to draw.

We also learn more of the Consult, an element that although is at the forefront of the backdrop of the saga being told, has been an element that Bakker has kept somewhat in reserve, and how they and especially Mog-Pharau (the No-God), were going to be finally explained, in regards to their integration into what is otherwise a very organic world was of my chief interests going into teh reading. It is this element, that whispers slightly of Science Fiction, and intertwining of theological and metaphysical salvation, giving the warlords and magi of ages past a believable cause to bring forth the Mandate’s greatest fear, that cemented my appreciation of the layered scope of this sequence. However, even as the depth their machinations are being revealed in all factions, even those who walked and witnessed the No-God himself, approach the warrior prophet with prudence; as even in their memories that span history itself, the Dunyain are an unknown entity to them, and witnessing the potential of the son, causes them to fear the truth of the father he seeks.

The refreshing lack of sentiment continues to the very end and is what will prove Bakker’s aforementioned quote veracious. The final eighty to a hundred pages of The Thousandfold Thought brings individual revelations by taking all of the primary cast to a crossroads, some that offer not but dead ends in all directions, making for one of most compelling conclusions to a sequence in some time. How does the unexpected become the obvious? The ending of the book, and thus the first arc, is one that will no doubt evoke a strong initial reaction at the moment of completion, but I found my own contemplation of the ending, both the nature of and my own feelings toward it was something I pondered for a couple days afterwards, a ending that Bakker neither seemed forced to succumb to, nor was it expected, yet when reflecting on the series it is the obvious, yet Bakker springs the obvious on us like a Dunyain - as a welcomed revelation.. Some will no doubt feel cheated by the ending, but I suggest that Bakker delivers exactly what he has repeatedly stated that would be encompassed within The Prince of Nothing sequence. He delivers a powerfully compelling conclusion, not one that leaves you stuffed and satisfied, but one that leaves you starved for more.

It is clear however, that opinions on the ending will no doubt be a topic of debate on genre message boards, it is an ending worth pondering and while doing so, one can indulge in what is a wonderfully comprehensive and informative 100+ page glossary of names, events, and places found at the end of the novel. The reading here is worth half the price of the book itself to existing fans of the series, and is more worthwhile than books by lesser authors. It is said that all good things come to an end, and it is well worth the coin to allow Bakker to guide us through the coming darkness; the one that comes before, shrouding all paths save the shortest -- a path only one can traverse -- and leads to the apocalypse, the likes of which can only be recounted in nightmares filtered through millennias, and the chaos may cost the sanity of even the most conditioned, and the renouncement of all love.

The austere thematic candor present in The Prince of Nothing makes it the most worthwhile epic sequence I have ever had the pleasure of seeing to conclusion; an epic fantasy that deserves much more than cult status, which may only stumble due to perhaps being guilty of taking a path that leads higher than most or willing to follow.

If there is an Epic Fantasy Canon, this sequence belongs in it.

*_{quote by Douglas Hofstadter}

Jay
The Bodhisattva

Other Reviews of works by R. Scott Bakker

The Warrior-Prophet - Jan 29, 2007

The Darkness that Comes Before - Aug 1, 2005

Interview with R. Scott Bakker

On the Spot at Fantasybookspot: R. Scott Bakker - May 30, 2005