Kage Baker

These are stand-alone novels set in the same fantasy world:

The Anvil of the World — (2003) Publisher:  The Anvil of the World is [Kage Baker's] first fantasy novel, a journey across a fantastic landscape filled with bizarre creatures, human and otherwise. It is the tale of Smith, of the large extended family of Smiths, of the Children of the Sun. They are a race given to blood feuds, and Smith was formerly an extremely successful assassin. Now he has wearied of his work and is trying to retire in another country, to live an honest life in obscurity in spite of all those who have sworn to kill him. His problems begin when he agrees to be the master of a caravan from the inland city of Troon to the seaside city of Salesh. The caravan is dogged with murder, magic, and the brooding image of the Master of the Mountain, a powerful demon, looking down from his mountain kingdom upon the greenlands and the travelers passing below. In Salesh, Smith becomes an innkeeper, but on the journey he befriended theyoung Lord Ermenwyr, a decadent demonic half-breed. Each time Ermenwyr turns up, he brings new trouble with him.

The Anvil of the World: Uneven but promising, very funny in places.

The first thing that should be noted about Kage Baker's The Anvil of the World is that though it focuses on a very small group of characters and one main character throughout and follows them chronologically, this isn't really a novel. Unless it's one with some major transition problems. Rather, it's three novellas with some large gaps of time between the three different adventures. Like any collection of stories, then, The Anvil of the World tends to be a bit uneven.

The first story, which has the unenviable task of filling in the backstory—who are these people, why are they behaving as they do, what world is this and how does it function, tends to be the slowest-moving one and the weakest, though it isn't without its strong points. It's funny in places, suspenseful in others, and mostly holds your attention. If you find it lagging a bit, as I did, continue on, because both the pace and the writing pick up in the rest of the book, as does the humor, though it's already pretty evident from story one. Some reviewers compare the humor to Pratchett. Personally, those works never did much for me. I found these more along the lines of the Robert Asprin Myth series, which I found more enjoyable. While the humor is uneven, the not-so-funny parts are outweighed by the laugh-out-loud/read aloud to your neighbor parts.

The main character is well-drawn, with a mysterious past, a nicely-honed sort of taciturn narration and wonderful reactions. The other major character, a semi-demon, also grows on you, though his dialogue is at times a bit overdone (annoyingly so when it's meant to depict his childishness). The rest of the small group range in quality of characterization, with the matronly chef the strongest and sharpest, while others are a bit clichéd or too sketchily drawn. The world itself is a bit sketchy in the larger details, but where Baker shines anyway is in the small stuff: sharply humorous details with regard to clothing or festivals or food. It's easy to forgive the somewhat vague worldview with so much richness in the smaller details.

As mentioned, the first story, which follows the group as they form (for the first time) a caravan, has a lot of necessary exposition which tends to slow it down a bit. It still manages, however, to get in some excitement (various attacks on the caravan and other more personal ones) and suspense (what's causing the attacks, who among the caravan is the bad guy). The second story, more of a murder mystery, has a much better pace and consistent tone to it and adds to our understanding and liking of the characters (though the semi-demon's brother, even more childish, can be even more annoying in places). The third story maintains the quick pace and strong wit, but its attempt to deepen/broaden the tone meets with mixed success. The weakest part is the environmental analogy which would have worked fine had it not been so overdone in terms of frequency and obviousness.

Overall, though mixed, the book was a fast and enjoyable read, with the funniest parts truly laugh-out-loud funny, making it quite easy to forgive the not-so-funny parts or the weaker written areas. There is clearly room for a sequel, one that I'd certainly pick up without any qualms. —Bill Capossere

The House of the Stag — (2008) Publisher: Before the Riders came to their remote valley the Yendriled a tranquil pastoral life. When the Riders conquered and enslaved them, only a few escaped to the forests. Rebellion wasn’t the Yendri way; they hid or passively resisted, taking consolation in the prophecies of their spiritual leader. Only one possessed the necessary rage to fight back: Gard the foundling, half-demon, who began a one-man guerrilla war against the Riders. His struggle ended in the loss of the family he loved, and condemnation from his own people. Exiled, he was taken as a slave by powerful mages. Bitter and wiser, he finds more subtle ways to earn his freedom. This is the story of his rise to power, his vengeance, his unlikely redemption, and his maturation into a loving father — as well as a lord and commander of demon armies. Kage Baker, author of the popular and witty fantasy, The Anvil of the World, returns to that magical world for another story of adventure, love, and a fair bit of ironic humor.

The House of the Stag

Kage Baker’s The House of the Stag is a stand-alone novel set in the same world as The Anvil of the World and The Bird of the River. In this story, the pacifist Yendri tribe has been enslaved by cruel invaders, and the half-demon foundling named Gard is the only one who will fight back. When he’s exiled from the tribe, Gard is captured by mages who live underground and set to work with their bound demon slaves. With some advice from his fellow slaves, he remakes his own image and ends up styling himself as “The Dark Lord.” Meanwhile, back in the tribe, a prophet arises who promises the coming of a Saint who will lead the Yendri to a promised land. The separate plotlines are eventually united when The Saint meets The Dark Lord.

My summary of The House of the Stag doesn’t do justice to the novel — it explains, ostensibly, what the novel is about, but I don’t pick up one of Kage Baker’s books or stories because I think the plot sounds interesting. I pick it up because it was written by Kage Baker. There is much more to her work than the “plot” — she knows how to tell a story. What I like best about Baker’s stories is her creative world-building and her sense of humor. Her stories are unique, peculiar, smart, and often very funny in that dry deadpan way that I love. Her style is similar to Jack Vance’s, though without the elaborate use of language that is part of his humor.

Despite some serious subject matter (slavery, racism, colonialism) and plenty of darkness, violence and gore, The House of the Stag is delightfully humorous. On his way to becoming The Dark Lord, Gard becomes a gladiator, a gardener, and an actor. He collects fashion and personality advice as he goes, keeping his thoughts mostly to himself and often limiting his speech to epigrammatic replies of “Yes,” “Oh,” and “Thank you.” (Somehow, this is very funny.) Along the way, he meets many colorful characters such as the werewolf butler who collects celadon porcelain dishes and the female theater groupies who wait outside the Dark Lord’s dressing room. Baker never overdoes these bits of humor — their subtlety is what makes them so funny.

Too little of Kage Baker’s work has been produced on audio, so when I saw that Audible Frontiers had recently released The House of the Stag, I snatched it up. It’s read by Sean Crisden, whose voices are perfect for Baker’s dry humor. He’s absolutely hilarious in the scene where the theater manager is explaining the stock characters of epics to Gard.

I didn’t need the plotline about the promised child, even though it eventually joined Gard’s story. Gard’s adventures were so fascinating that I was always disappointed when the POV switched, but these interludes didn’t last long, fortunately. It’s rare that I say this, but I was sad when The House of the Stag was finished. I wanted more and I felt again the loss of such a brilliant writer. —Kat Hooper

The Bird of the River — (2010) Publisher: In this new story set in the world of The Anvil of the World and The House of the Stag, two teenagers join the crew of a huge river barge after their addict mother is drowned. The girl and her half-breed younger brother try to make the barge their new home. As the great boat proceeds up the long river, we see a panorama of cities and cultures, and begin to perceive patterns in the pirate attacks that happen so frequently in the river cities. Eliss, the girl, becomes a sharp-eyed spotter of obstacles in the river for the barge, and more than that, one who perceives deeply. A young boy her age, Krelan, trained as a professional assassin, has come aboard, seeking the head of a dead nobleman, so that there might be a proper burial. But the head proves as elusive as the real explanation behind the looting of cities, so he needs Eliss’s help. And then there is the massive Captain of the barge, who can perform supernatural tricks, but prefers to stay in his cabin and drink.

The Bird of the River

It’s hard to separate feelings of personal sadness at Kage Baker’s too-early death in January 2010 from one’s feelings reading her posthumously published novel The Bird of the River, emphasizing the book’s own bittersweetness. And it’s impossible, once done, not to mourn, in addition to the person, the loss of such talent. Bird of the River is in many ways a fitting final (or first final) book for the author.

The main character is a young girl, Ellis, who forced to be mature beyond her years in order to take care of both her mother, who is addicted to an intoxicating weed, and her younger brother Alder. (Alder is himself burdened by light of being a “greenie,” a half-breed human/Yendri). Ellis gets her mother a diving job on the huge river barge Bird but things soon go tragically awry, leaving Ellis and Alder alone. How they slowly, painfully find their way to their various places in this world is one plot line. Another begins with the discovery of a dead body in the river and the arrival of a sudden new passenger, a young boy named Krelan: who killed the dead man and who Krelan is are two of the book’s mysteries. A final one, and the last major plot strand, involves the recent rise in bandit raids on the towns along the river and what is allowing them to be so suddenly successful.

Set in the same world as The House of the Stag and Anvil of the World, but standing wholly on its own, Bird of the River is a gentle, elegant little novel (under 300 pages) that meanders as smoothly and easily as the river at its heart. The episodic nature of the plot, with the barge pulling into town after town, allows Baker to show us a variety of small cultures and examine both class and race in differing contexts. The search for the murderer and the constant threat of bandit attack lend a suspenseful air to much of the book. But the real beauty of the novel lies in its slow revealing and development of its main characters: Eliss finding her way to becoming perhaps part of the barge’s family, as well as a young woman who may be open to love; Alder’s struggle to find his true heritage in the half of his culture (his father’s side) that up to now has been denied him; Krelan’s true nature opening up bit by bit. The side characters are also lovingly depicted, each with sharply distinguished personalities, from the first mate’s young boy to the ship’s independent-minded female cartographer to my personal favorite, the mysterious captain who locks himself into his cabin with drink at every landfall, not coming out until they’re back on the water.

My only complaint, and it’s a small, infrequent one, is that as with Anvil of the World, the environmental aspect is a bit heavy-handed (and I speak as one who agrees with everything she says). A lighter touch there would have been preferred. And I suppose the murder/bandit mystery isn’t all that difficult (mostly because we’ve all read/seen far too many murder/caper books/films), but really, this isn’t a plot-driven book. It’s simple without being simplistic, quiet without being dull, elegant without being removed or aloof. It’s a slow, lovely ride down a meandering river that keeps opening up little by little, revealing not huge vistas but tiny beautiful moments. I was sad when it was over, though it ended as it should have, and even sadder at the thought that we won’t have the chance to return or read its like from Baker again. Well-recommended. —Bill Capossere

The Bird of the River

Eliss is a teenage girl living an itinerant life with her drug-addicted mother and young brother. Her mother, formerly a successful diver, now has trouble keeping a job because her drug habit has damaged her lungs, but she’s given a chance on the Bird of the River, a huge raft-like boat that travels and trades up and down the river on year-long journeys. Eliss shows some talent as a look-out, spotting blockages and snags upriver, and even her young brother Alder, who is half Yendri and has experienced discrimination before, feels at home with the more open-minded crew of the Bird of the River, so life finally seems to settle down... but everything changes when Eliss spots a snag that, upon further examination, proves to be a nobleman’s sunken pleasure ship — containing, among other things, the nobleman’s headless corpse.

The Bird of the River is the last novel by Kage Baker, who passed away earlier this year. The novel is set in the same fantasy universe as The Anvil of the World and The House of the Stag, but even though there are some references to the characters and events from the earlier novels, The Bird of the River can be read as a standalone without any knowledge of the previous books.

One of the most distinctive characteristics of Kage Baker’s style was her sly tone and dry wit. Unfortunately, this is mostly missing in The Bird of the River. Instead, large chunks of the novel have an almost YA-like tone. In the first half of the novel, the story flows and meanders gently, much like the river on which it is set, and mostly lacks the edge that I loved so much in the author’s COMPANY novels, her other fantasies, and especially her excellent short stories. However, this apparent simplicity is deceptive, as the straightforward coming-of-age narrative also contains a dark, biting story of class and race discrimination that becomes more apparent later in the novel.

Many of the characters are usually too busy to reflect on their lives or be aware of the world outside of their small circle, but there’s actually a lot happening in this novel right from the start: Eliss’ brother Alder struggles with his racial identity, and Eliss herself slowly learns that there’s more to the world than the poverty and discrimination she grew up in. Right on the boat, there’s the mysterious Captain Glass (who gets staggeringly drunk every time the boat pulls into a harbor), the intriguing and elegant cartographer Pentra, and of course Krelan, the passenger who comes on board incognito to track down the nobleman’s killer. There are a lot of interesting things going on right from the start, but it takes a while for the otherwise very observant main character, who is still adjusting to massive changes in her life, to notice them.

Part coming-of-age novel, part adventure story, part social commentary, part whodunit, The Bird of the River is a charming, enjoyable fantasy novel that’s definitely recommended to readers who liked the author’s previous fantasy novels. Reading it, it’s hard not to feel sad that this is Kage Baker’s last novel. I’m sure she had many more great stories to tell, and it’s heartbreaking that we’ll never get the chance to read them.  —Stefan Raets