TITLE: Way of Shadows (Night Angel #1)
AUTHOR: Brent Weeks
GENRE: Fantasy
PUBLISHED: 01/01/2008
RATING: ★★★★★
PURCHASE LINKS: Amazon
MOBILISM LINK: Mobilism
Review: Way of Shadows is one of those books that has been recommended to me many times, but for various reasons I never gave a second glance. The main reason being that it was described to me as a book about assassins, and I've never had much interest in the fantasy genre’s obsession with assassins. (Robin Hobb’s Farseer trilogy being a rare exception.) But then came Weeks’ Lightbringer series, a secondary world fantasy with a complex magical system based on colour. Forgetting that this was an author who had made his name through assassins, I picked up the Lightbringer books and adored each one more than the last. Having just read book three in that series, I decided it was time to have a second look at the Night Angel trilogy.
And I am extremely glad I did.
Way of Shadows is indeed about assassins. But it’s about a great deal more than that; about politics, and idealism vs cynicism, and crime and war. A huge theme in the novel is the line between cynicism and realism, or realism and pessimism. Without ever preaching, it manages a pointed social commentary, not least on issues such as sexism and classism (several passages had me outright cheering, where I wasn't completely shocked that a ‘traditional’ fantasy was even aware of such problems). It’s a book that deftly straddles the line between bleakness and beauty, and I'm still not sure how on Earth author Weeks managed it all.
The main character, Azoth, begins the story as a ‘guild rat’ in the Warrens – a member of a child-gang in the slums. It’s a terrible existence, and Weeks pulls absolutely no punches in describing the daily horrors Azoth faces, not least of which is avoiding the attentions of Rat, the guild’s main power who uses serial rape to break the resistance of the (male) ‘trouble makers’ in the gang. (Although I was originally extremely sceptical of being presented with a homosexual villain, Breeks makes it clear that Rat actually isn’t gay; what gets him off is pain and fear, with the gender of his victim being apparently irrelevant. I wouldn't have been all that impressed if the only non-heteronormative character we met was a/the villain.) Azoth is determined to escape the Warrens completely by gaining an apprenticeship with Blint, the land’s best and most infamous wetboy – wetboy being an assassin with Talent, or magic.
A wetboy was like an assassin—in the way a tiger is like a kitten.
It’s not really a spoiler to say that, yes, Azoth does get his apprenticeship, and yes, he does end up an assassin. That all happens within the first few chapters. But this isn't a simple story at all. Azoth’s apprenticeship binds him irredeemably to the Sa’kage, the criminal underworld that rules the land all but openly, manipulating lords and kings alike at their whim. Alongside Azoth’s struggle to access his Talent are prophets trying to save the world, Generals honour-bound to serve a weak and terrible king, the God-Emperor of another land searching for magical objects of immense power, and a power struggle amongst the Nine, the ruling council of the Sa’kage. It’s an intricate tapestry of multiple storylines that tie together smoothly, beautifully, often in delightfully unexpected ways.
But this is a horrifically bleak book. There’s just no getting around that. I never felt that Weeks was writing for shock value, which I appreciated, but was merely being realistic; it’s only that ‘realistic’ is not the pretty fairytale we tell ourselves about ‘olden times’. Blint, Azoth’s teacher, teaches that life is meaningless and there is thus no morality attached to murder; arguably quite a practical lesson for an assassin to learn, and yet… It is one of the core themes of the novel, this meaningless of life, the brutality of it. Although there are many characters who believe that life has meaning and one should strive to do good, few of them escape tragedy. It’s difficult to tell whether Weeks is intentionally trying to make a point, but it’s equally difficult not to be shaken by how swiftly – and often horribly – characters the reader feels strongly for are killed or in some other way brutalised. On the one hand, it speaks well of Weeks that we bond to each character so strongly, and so quickly; on the other, I very nearly gave up on the book several times because I felt that I couldn't bear any more. It’s a tragedy of hope and murder.
Until it occasionally isn’t. I would never call Way of Shadows grimdark. None of its violence is ever needless. There’s none of the rampant rape or misogyny found in grimdark here (for which I was and am grateful), and there are bright ribbons of hope winding throughout the harsh bitterness; the ending, in particular, was far more optimistic than I was expecting, almost fairytale-esque.
It’s a very self-aware book. Azoth is more or less in love with a girl he’s never spoken to for most of the novel; but he several times admits that he doesn’t really know her, so it can’t be real love. The picture he has of her is something he’s made up himself.
He felt something for Elene, it was true. Something intense and intoxicating and unreasonable. Maybe it was love, but what did he love, Elene or an image of her, glimpsed from afar, pieced together with the glue of assumption?
It’s an acknowledgement that I’ve never seen in a story before, where typically the heterosexual main romance is all but destined from the opening pages, and no matter what conflict arises, the reader knows the characters will end up together eventually. That’s not the case here at all. Nor does Weeks fall into the trap of ‘it’s a Medieval setting, so well-rounded females don’t exist’. Not at all. Although the women in Azoth’s world are limited by the time period, none of them are cardboard cut-outs. Even the girl we’re sure will be nothing more than an adorable airhead, the king’s fifteen year old daughter, is an impressive figure who allows Weeks to make a rather wry point about sexism...
“My brother told me that you were the only man he knew who wouldn’t be intimidated by my mind. Do you know what it’s like to have to use small words and pretend not to understand things so you don’t get a bad reputation?”
Logan wasn’t sure he understood. Surely women never had to pretend to be stupid. Did they?
Many of the most powerful characters in the book are women, and Weeks is smart enough to realise that power can mean many different things; there is a female wetboy (wetgirl?) but there are also spymistresses and criminal masterminds and princesses, all of whom use the skills and position at their disposal to achieve their ends. It’s unusual not to see a variety of male characters in a novel, but here the women are just as diverse in their skillsets, social positions and desires. It’s a surprisingly feminist novel for a book about assassins and murder and people forced into prostitution.
As for the writing itself; I expected Way of the Shadows to be less well-crafted than Black Prism, since the latter was written a fair bit later and most authors improve with age. That doesn’t seem to be the case; clearly Weeks has always been brilliant, because Way of the Shadows is just as addictive as the Lightbringer series and reads just as beautifully. I’ve already talked about how Weeks creates characters we can’t help but care for, but he also manages to skirt the dangers of overwhelming description, instead perfectly balancing action with scenery. Plenty of novels with similar themes are too sparse for me, when it comes to describing – well, anything at all. Weeks, on the other hand, always manages to evoke whatever he’s describing without drowning the reader in detail, subtly and skilfully dropping nuggets of world-building in the process...
The table was near one of the walls of the vast great hall of white marble and white oak. Against the monochrome background, the nobles were a riot of color. Several of the realm’s most influential hecatonarchs, priests of the hundred gods, mingled in their myriad-colored robes. A band of minstrels in flamboyant cloaks and makeup fought for attention with lords and ladies high and low. Terah Graesin had shown up to the last big party two weeks ago in a scandalously low-cut red gown with a soaring hem. Terah was eighth in line for the throne, after the prince, the Gunder daughters, Logan, and her father Duke Graesin, and she adored the attention her position gave her. Her daring had touched off a new fashion, so this week all the gowns were either red or dared to expose more leg or breast or both than most prostitutes did. This was fine for Terah Graesin, who was somehow able to look glamorous instead of cheap. Most women weren’t so fortunate.
See? In one passage we have scenery, world-building (the priests), a character introduction, and just a touch of wry humour. That is skill, my friends.
I shall pick up the sequel in just a few minutes.