Bitterwood Prolog -- Did We Pick Up the Wrong Book?

Let's get this show on the road, folks!  Just a note -- I'm reading the Kindle version of this book, which means page numbers might be different from page numbers in a physical copy of the book.  Also, the page numbering system on the Kindle Cloud Reader seems funky, so apologies in advance if the page numbers are off by a page or two.

ALSO also, I'm going to avoid reading the ImpishIdea sporking of the first four chapters of Bitterwood, at least until I've passed the point where they left off.  I'd rather not rehash points they've already made.

The book starts off with a title page, of course, which also states that the electronic version of the book was done by E-Quality Press, including a link to a website that seems to be dead.  Not a good sign...

Then we get a page of copyright information, stating that the book was originally published by Solaris Publishing, an imprint of BL Publishing... which is also defunct except for a single branch that publishes Warhammer Fantasy and Warhammer 40K books.  Hmmmmm...  Also, this page declares that James Maxey did the cover art for the Kindle version, which explains a lot...  Not saying that writers can't also be artists, but still, that isn't a pretty cover.

The next page is an author's note regarding the Kindle edition of the book:

The e-book edition of Bitterwood has been slightly modified from the original print edition.  Bitterwood was purchased by Solaris as a stand-alone book, and only after strong sales and critical response did Solaris invite me to expand the tale into a trilogy.  I'm happy they did; in the process of writing Dragonforge and Dragonseed, I had the opportunity to further explore and expand upon an already complex world and cast of characters.  Alas, some of the choices I made created continuity errors with Bitterwood, already in print.  The backstory of Gadreel was especially contradicted by changes I made to the breeding habits of sky-dragons.  In this edition, I made the necessary tweaks to bring his history in line with later continuity.  I've also corrected the handful of typos that readers have brought to my attention over the years...

I'm all for correcting typos in a re-release of a work.  Rewriting parts of a book... that can get fans' shorts in a knot, especially those who like an author's early work despite its Early Installment Weirdness.  And I can fully understand wanting to go back and rewrite an early work -- one's writing changes over time, after all, and who hasn't read their first works and cringed, and wanted to go back and clean it up in some way?

My problem with this rewrite is that the continuity errors really should have been avoided in the first place.  If you're writing a series, it's your responsibility to ensure that worldbuilding, backstories, and other details stay consistent over the course of the series.  No author is immune from goofs (*aims a glare at Anne McCaffrey's ghost for Lytol's color-changing dragon*), but still, I feel Maxey should have maintained consistency over the course of his series instead of changing things, then going back and rewriting the book.  I don't excuse George Lucas for his continuity goofs between the Star Wars films and the prequel trilogy (and let's not even get started with the Special Editions), and I'm not going to excuse Maxey either, indie author or not.

Seriously, I don't hate you, Lucas... but

you gotta admit you've made some weird choices

with the franchise over the years...

Table of contents, a Bible quote on page 7 (Proverbs 6:72 -- "Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned?"), and we begin Part I of Bitterwood, titled "Pyre."  And we begin with a prologue... or "Prolog," as the book calls it.  Um, Prolog is a programming language, Maxey.  I think you mean "Prologue."

Never gets old

The title of the "Prolog" is "Seed," and we're informed that it takes place in "1070 DA (Dragon Age), the 39th Year of the Reign of Albekizan."  Isn't "Albekizan" a Harry Potter spell?

Freshly plowed earth and the perfume of women scented the night air.  Naked, Bant scurried along the furrows, crouching low as he made his way toward the orchard.  All around him women sang out and men grunted with pleasure.  Bant strained his eyes in the darkness, fearing that any second some white arm might snake out of the moonless night and pull him close, demanding from him that which was Recanna's. -- p. 8

Um...

Why, oh, why do I keep picking books with awkwardly sexual scenes in them?  Whyyyyyyyyyy?

So Bant, our introductory character, is running naked through the fields looking for his girlfriend.  And yes, this scene is exactly what you think it is -- a fertility rite in the honor of a goddess, where everyone runs around getting laid with wild abandon.  There's also an aside about how "in theory, on the Night of Sowing, women were free to chose any partner they wished" but what actually happens is women have no right to say no to any man in the village for fear of insulting the goddess.  I have a feeling this is some kind of attempt on the author's part to make a political statement about... something, though whether it's against relaxing traditional sexual mores or against patriarchal sexism, I have no idea.

Also Bant is fifteen, and his girlfriend Recanna is fourteen.  Because underage sex is NEVER awkward, amirite?

This better not be fetish fuel for you, Maxey, otherwise

shame on you

"Recanna?" he said again, louder, almost a shout.  He held his breath to listen for her reply.  His heart sounded like a drum in his ears.

At last, her faint voice answered, "Here."

He crept toward the sound.  Bant was all but blind beneath the branches.  For a second he thought he saw her slender form in the darkness, a black shape against a gray background.  When he drew nearer he saw it was only the trunk of a tree.  Then her soft, cool hand closed around his and pulled him to her. -- p. 9-10

Maybe my brain is still sore from too much Revealing Eden, but is it me or is Maxey's writing not so different from hers?  It feels bland, and I swear he uses too many commas just as she does.  Maybe it's just a sign of unpolished writing, I dunno...

Also, apparently on the Night of Sowing it's a sin to let cloth touch your body.  Because why not, if we're going for a fertility goddess scenario, why not hit all the cliches?

Also, we know Bant is the hero because he doesn't want to sleep around but wants to buck tradition and keep Recanna for himself.  Because of COURSE our hero has to question traditions he finds stifling or inconvenient and be the most noble and virtuous character.  I can already tell we're shaping up to have another boring Gary Stu on our hands.  I'm not saying I want to read about a character who sleeps with anything that moves, but protagonists, even heroes, don't have to be entirely virtuous.  

Her soft skin pressed against his.  He felt as if he'd slipped into a dream.  He wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly, trembling with joy.  He leaned and pressed his lips to her neck, nibbling her, breathing in the rich aroma of her hair.  Then he moved his mouth to seek her lips.  But she turned her face and his lips fell on her cheek, which was wet, and salty... she was crying. -- p. 10

Oh dear Primus, did Foyt come back and write a fantasy novel under a pen name?  I swear this writing is almost just like hers -- awkward description, bland prose, an addiction to commas, weird attempts to be sexy... *shudders*

Recanna's worried that if they disobey the Goddess by only sleeping with each other, they'll curse the harvest.  Bant blows her off, saying "there'll be time enough for duty," and shuts her up with a kiss when she protests further.  Because nothing says "romantic" and "virtuous" like forcing a kiss on someone, right?

Thankfully we're saved from a sex scene when Recanna spots someone with a lantern going by on the road leading to the village.  Apparently light, too, is banned on this night.  Um... why?  Is everyone in this village so ugly they can only have sex in the dark?

Then a twig snaps, and before we can find out who the lantern-bearer is we get our stereotypical bully-villains -- Bant's brother, who wants a piece of his girlfriend.

Bant knew the voice well.  Even in the gloom, the hulking shape of his older brother Jomath was unmistakable.  Jomath was two years older than Bant, but a giant by comparison, a foot taller and with thick muscular arms.  Bant had always been a target of his brother's bullying.  But, if the light on the road presaged something dangerous, it was good that he was here.

"Jomath," Bant said.  "I'm relieved that it's you.  What do you think the light on the road is?"

"Who cares?" Jomath said, striding boldly forward and placing a callused hand around Recanna's frail arm.  "Some lost fool, no doubt.  Not my concern.  What concerns me is to see you and this lovely morsel breaking the commandments.  Do you think I've been blind to your plotting?"

"Ow," said Recanna.  "You're hurting me."

"You deserve to be hurt.  The commandment is that any woman shall lay with any man on the Night of Sowing.  Defiance of this is a great sin.  I'm here to save you from your folly." -- p. 11

Aaaaaaaaaaaand yet another author who decides that the best way to make his characters evil or despicable is to make them a rapist.  *sigh*  I've said it before, but I'll say it again -- rape is something that has to be handled carefully in writing.  It's a horrific crime and an extremely sensitive subject... so to see authors use it as a cheap plot device to make a villain extra-evil, or a shortcut to give a character a tragic backstory, is annoying and infuriating.  If you're going to include rape or attempted rape in your story, you'd better be prepared to actually explore the reprecussions of it, not just go "oh, he's evil because he wants to molest the heroine!"

Sorry... hot-button issue for me.  It's not as bad as Eden comparing having an earring ripped out to rape, but it's still not good.

Jomath goes on to say that love is "blasphemy" on the Night of Sowing and he's been looking forward to giving Recanna "the sacred lesson of the Goddess" for a long time now.  And he even tells Recanna she can resist if she wants because "I find it more pleasurable if you struggle."  Ew ew ew ew ew... seriously, Maxey, couldn't you find a better way to make this character a villain?  Wasn't making him a bully bad enough?

Bant tries to defend his girl, Jomath punches him and kicks him while he's down, then punches Recanna when she screams.  Bant threatens to kill his brother and imagines him drowning in a sea of blood.  Aren't our characters delightful so far?

Thankfully we don't get a rape scene -- I never would have gotten this far into the book if the opening scene had been an explicit sexual assault.  Instead we hear screams and a bonfire starts up in the village, and Jomath runs off to investigate.  Recanna's crying, saying that they angered the Goddess and this is why they're being punished.  So we have an evil rapist, a fratricidal sociopath, and a wet blanket of a damsel in distress as our characters thus far.  Who are we rooting for again?

At this point, we're rooting for the dragons

He helped her to her feet.  Grabbing her by the wrist, he guided her from the orchard, picking up speed and breaking into a run as they cleared the low branches and reached the freshly-plowed field... In truth, he wasn't eager to discover the source of the evil that gripped the village this night. -- p. 14-15

Our hero, ladies and gentlemen.  To be fair, he IS fifteen, but still, you'd think he'd be a little concerned for his home village.

At the edge of the village square, Bant stopped, drawing back in fear.  Harnessed to a nearby wagon stood a gigantic black dog, as big as an ox.  It was the biggest beast Bant had ever seen, save for a brief glimpse of a sun-dragon that had once flown high over the village - p. 15

Oh hey, there ARE dragons in this book.  I was starting to think I'd picked up the wrong book by mistake when I first read the book -- the prologue thrusts us into what seems to be a completely unrelated story from what the description promised.  And at this point I'd expected the bonfire to be caused by a dragon, since the summary set them up as villains.  But nope.

All the men in the village (about three dozen) are gathered in the square, with all the women and children on a hill nearby.  Everyone's staring at the temple of the Goddess, which is covered in offerings... and currently on fire.  Seems like the work of a dragon terrorizing the villagers, right?

HahahahahahahahahahahahahaNOPE

Then, from the smoke and flame rolling from the temple's entrance, a giant stranger emerged, rudely dragging behind him the voluptuously carved mahogany statue of the Goddess.  If the smoke stung his eyes or irritated his lungs, the stranger gave no sign.  Nor did he cringe from the terrible heat.  He kicked away the offerings as he moved forward.  He placed the Goddess below him on the stone steps of the temple, moving her heavy wooden body as if it were weightless.

Confused voices rang through the crowd.  Had this stranger set fire to the temple?  Or was he saving the Goddess from the blaze?

The crowd fell silent as the stranger straightened to his full height, easily ten feet tall, his shoulders broad, unbent by fear or labor.  Despite the commandment that no cloth could touch flesh on this night, he wore a black wool coat that hung down to his heavy leather boots.  His skin, stained by soot, was as dark as his clothes.  The only bright things about him were his eyes, glistening beneath a broad-brimmed hat.  His giant right hand held a thick, black book. -- p. 16

Seriously, who the heck is this?  You promised us dragons and you give us someone who sounds like he stepped out of the Matrix films.  Also, why is he ten feet tall?  The tallest human in the world never even got to nine feet tall (just a tiny bit short, but still...).  Spoiler: we do learn why this guy is so freaking tall later, but it's a rather stupid explanation...

Turns out this guy must be some kind of evangelical Christian warrior, because he opens up the book -- yes, it's a Bible -- and bellows out the first and second commandments ("thou shalt have no other gods before me" and "thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image") before pulling out an axe and splits the statue in two.  

"Now that this nonsense is behind us," the stranger said, "the truth shall set you free."

"Truth?" one man cried, stepping forward.  It was Jomath.  "You dare speak of truth in the face of such blasphemy?"

"I dare," said the stranger.  "Have care.  Do not act in anger or haste.  I am a servant of the Lord.  He will not allow a hair on my head to come to harm." -- p. 17-18

.....

It was at this point when I wondered if I'd been tricked into picking up a Christian fiction book by mistake.  Was this book going to be one of those books where converting to Christianity saves the hero?  Were the dragons going to be symbolic of Satan (occasionally called the Dragon in scripture and religious writings) and his minions?  Was the heavy-handed criticism of a nature goddess and casual sex just a sign of further proselyting to come?  WHAT did I just get myself into?

I'm NOT saying that Christian fiction is bad.  I've enjoyed Christian fiction in the past -- one of my favorite book series is the Tennis Shoes Among the Nephites series, an LDS fantasy series.  But I like to know what I'm getting into when I pick up a book, and when a book pulls a bait-and-switch like this, it's obnoxious.  I almost set the book down at this point the first time I read it, but kept going anyhow because I was promised dragons, dangit...

Jomath calls out for the villagers to help him, but no one moves, so he runs forward and punches the stranger in the gut.  Someone else throws a hammer, and the entire village Zerg-rushes the guy... except Bant.

Bant didn't move to join them.  He couldn't, standing there, his arms around Recanna.  His heart held an unspeakable desire.  He wanted the stranger to live.  He wanted the stranger to kill Jomath.  Let the temple burn, let the Goddess send her wrath as storms, as floods, as plagues of locusts and flies: Bant feared none of these things.  All he wanted was for Jomath to die, to satisfy the hate he'd felt only moments before. - p. 19

Our hero, ladies and gentlemen.  I know, Jomath is a despicable character, but he and Bant are brothers.  Even if his brother is a monster, Bant wanting him dead seems pretty extreme.  Also it's hard to sympathize with a character when he starts acting incredibly hateful within a few pages of meeting him.

The dog dives into the fray, biting and shaking and tearing people apart.  A body goes flying through the air and lands at Bant's feet... and it's another member of his family.

Bant recognized the man; it was Delan, his uncle, the man who'd been training Bant in the art of archery.  Bant understood that it wouldn't be only his brother who died tonight.

So be it, he thought -- p. 20

...our hero, ladies and gentlemen.  I can kinda-sorta understand Bant wanting his brother dead in the heat of the moment, but his uncle hasn't been shown to be an utter unrepentant dick, and was even treating him with some measure of kindness if he was willing to teach him something.  But nope, Bant doesn't even feel horror or shock at seeing a relative killed.  How are we supposed to root for this guy?

Recanna screams and tries to run, but Bant holds her in place, because "he couldn't bear to part with her."  How nice of you to treat your girlfriend so well, Bant...

The ox-dog tossed en into the sky like rag dolls as the bright-eyed stranger fought to his feet once more, his robes now wet with blood.  His axe rose and fell, chopping and hacking.  Limbs were severed, skulls split, men died with each blow.  The dog tore and savaged the men.  Quickly, the few men with limbs still intact slipped and skittered on the bloody cobblestones before fleeing into the night - p. 20

If this much blood and gore makes you squeamish, I advise you to proceed with caution.  I'll try to gloss over the worst bits throughout this spork, but Maxey is really obsessed with blood and gore and guts to a degree that I found quite sickening.  I think too many fantasy authors see how popular George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire is and are trying to ape his success by packing their books with blood and gore, not realizing that his works have far more to offer to people than just blood and gore.

Too much blood and gore can easily stop being horrifying

and cross the line to being hilarious, really

With a chill of satisfaction, Bant spotted Jomath, dead among the bloody mound.  It was almost as if his hate had killed Jomath, as if it had been a palpable thing, a force, making his darkest desires real.  He knew he should feel remorse or some sense of loss.  Instead, he felt something that bordered on joy at seeing his brother's torn and twisted corpse.  It frightened him that he was capable of such hate.  Nothing could ever wash the blood from him.  

So be it.  - p. 21

Our hero, ladies and gentlemen.  Seriously, our hero is a sociopath.  And throwing in a single sentence of self-doubt doesn't count toward making him sympathetic, either.

"You," the stranger said.  "Boy.  What's your name?"

Bant looked up into the giant's eyes.  They were piercing, unflinching.  Bant knew the stranger was studying his terrible soul.

"B-Bant," he said.  "Bant Bitterwood." - p. 21

So we're introduced to our hero, who has been established as a sociopath who we're supposed to admire as the perfect virtuous hero of the story.  So... it's Hamlet from Hamlet's Father all over again?  This book is really bringing on flashbacks of other books I've sporked...

The stranger asks if Bant fears him, Bant says no, and the stranger says "that marks you as a wise man in this village of fools."  I dunno, I think it'd be smart to be afraid of an axe-crazy Bible-thumper with a giant killer dog...

The stranger asks if "this woman you cling to" is his wife.  Bant says no, and the stranger marries them on the spot.  Then he informs Bant he's going to teach him to read so he knows the Word of the Lord.  

Bant asked, "Are you... are you the Lord?"

"No.  I am his prophet.  My name is Hezekiah.  Now go, Bant Bitterwood.  Find clothes to cover your nakedness.  Your days of living as a pagan savage are no more.  Recanna Bitterwood, find clothes of your own then prepare food for your husband.  He will need his strength.  There is much work for him in the coming days."

Bant looked to Recanna.  She was afraid.  She tried to pull away but he held tight.

"I know you're frightened," Bant said.  "I don't understand what has happened tonight, but I have a feeling.  I think everything is going to be all right.  Don't be afraid."

"What you feel, Bant Bitterwood," said Hezekiah, "is faith." - p. 23

Bant kisses Recanna, and the last words of the chapter are "this is how Bant Bitterwood learned that hate could improve the world.  This is how Bant Bitterwood found God."  Welp... 

So reading this chapter, I felt like I'd been cheated.  I opened it expecting an at least passable fantasy involving an epic war between dragons and humans, and I got what feels like a heavy-handed Christian novel.  And while Christian novels have their place and aren't all terrible, here it felt like I was promised one thing and got another thing entirely.

It really feels like we've picked up the wrong novel to spork here.  Where are the dragons?  What's with all the Christian preaching?  Why is our hero such a sociopath?

Don't worry, we get dragons next chapter.  Whether the book actually improves is up for debate... stick with me and we'll find out.

Bitterwood Cover(s) - Don't Judge a Book...

Happy New Year, gentle readers!  And we start this year off with another sporking -- and this time we're moving from racist dystopian sci-fi romance to drearily-written fantasy.  I present to you -- Bitterwood!

Bitterwood, by James Maxey, was originally published in 2007 by Solaris Books.  Its Kindle version -- which I got for free via a bargain e-book mailing list -- was released in 2013.  And this book seems to have seen a few different covers over its lifespan, with this being the best of the lot:

Okay, pretty cool cover, right?  Though my Kindle copy came with a decidedly less epic cover:

Not quite as exciting.  In fact, I'd go so far as to call it bland, but I might cut it a tiny bit of slack due to it being self-published and the author probably not having the resources to pay a professional artist or designer to whip up a professional-grade cover.  And yes, the old adage of "don't judge a book by its cover" comes into play, but still... covers are meant to catch a potential reader's eye, and this second cover just doesn't do it for me.

Bitterwood is going to be an interesting case here.  It differs greatly from Revealing Eden and Hamlet's Father in that, as far as I can tell, it has not sparked massive controversy online or even been the topic of much discussion.  The website ImpishIdea did a partial sporking of it back in 2009 but only got as far as Chapter 4... a sporking that seems to have gotten the attention of the author himself.  Oh dear... am I opening myself up to a potential visit from the very author who's work I'm critiquing?  We shall see...

Also, Bitterwood is different in that I've already done a complete read-through of it.  So unlike Revealing Eden, where most of the revelations were as new to me as they were to the blog readers, I'm diving into Bitterwood for the second time here.  I'll try to keep spoilers to a minimum as I go.

Being less-known and less controversial than the other two books I've sporked, Bitterwood has better ratings on review sites than its predecessors -- a 3.9-star rating on Amazon and a 3.57-star rating on Goodreads.  Of course, it takes a LOT to get a bad rating on either of these sites, and for all it's flaws Bitterwood isn't a TERRIBLE book.  It's definitely not good, but it at least won't make your eyes bleed or drive you to hurling your Kindle across the room in a wild rage...

Also worth noting is that not only did Orson Scott Card give a favorable review of this book, stating that it was a "magnificent hero story," but author James Maxey attended Card's Literary Boot Camp while a fledgling writer.  That's ominous...

The blurb for the Kindle version of the book reads thusly:

Dragons rule the world, united under their powerful dragon-king.  Humans struggle to survive as slaves, pets, and prey.  One man, the mysterious Bitterwood, strikes at dragons from the shadows, fighting a long, lonely war of resistance.  When Bitterwood is blamed for the death of the dragon-king's son, the dragons launch a full-scale campaign to rid the world of the legendary dragon-slayer -- even if they must kill all mankind to do so.

BITTERWOOD can be read as a stand-alone novel or as the beginning a four book epic saga exploring the full war between dragons and mankind.  All four books, plus a prequel short story, can be found in the omnibus BITTERWOOD: THE COMPLETE COLLECTION.

Yeah, that typo was present on Amazon too.  Editors -- they're not just a good idea, they're literary law!

The ImpishIdea spork of the book seems to be of the physical copy, as they give a somewhat different blurb on their website, which I quote here:

It is a time when powerful dragons reign supreme and humans are forced to work as slaves, driven to support the kingdom of the tyrannical ruler King Albekizan.

However, there is one name whispered among the dragon that strikes fear into the very hearts and minds of those who would oppress the human race.  Bitterwood.  The last dragon hunter, a man who refuses to yield to the will of the dragons.  A legend who is about to return, his arrow nocked and ready, his heart full of fiery vengeance...

Bitterwood plans to bring the dragons to their knees.  But wil he bring the remnants of the human race down with him?

I've preserved the typo because I'm not sure if it's an error made in the printing of the book or an error on the website's part.  Either way, editing, people.  Do it.  Seriously.

ImpishIdea also points out that the summary here is loaded with the usual stock fantasy cliches -- an evil ruler, an oppressed people, a one-man army of a hero who's humanity's last hope, a revenge plot, etc.  Cliches don't necessarily render a book dead in the water, especially if something clever is done to subvert or utilize them, but in all honesty it's not looking too good for Bitterwood about now...

I take that back -- the book does do something notable partway through to try to subvert the usual bog-standard fantasy premise.  But it's a twist that feels incredibly stupid to me.  I'll explain further when we get there.

Buckle up, folks.  And be vewwy, vewwy quiet... we're hunting dragons!