An Oxygenarian's Last Meal

 Aged

I suppose that you could call me a fan of R. A. Salvatore, or perhaps more accurately a fan of Drizzt, one of the two currently surviving derivations upon the classic pulp-fantasy hero, the other being Geralt.  Of course, as will happen, with derivation comes degradation, and, expectedly, the 'Legend' of Drizzt has stagnated over the years into a saga rivaling the length of The Wheel of Time, and becoming increasingly inane with every book.

The first books in the series (say the first six starting at The Crystal Shard) were good, or so I look back on them, as I have not read any of them very recently.  The next dozen or so, again from my recollection, were good, if not wholesale, but at least to those invested.  The intermediary books, as I am wont to call them, I have not read most of them, and I suspect a sort of hit-or-miss nature to them (feel free to correct me here).  While, finally, the most recent books are... dross?  It is hard to put into words (yet I must) the sheer disappointment I faced when reading these, and here I am referring to the "Homecoming" and part of the "Generations" series (I did not finish it for boredom with the interminable interludes), disappointment garnered not out of some grand failure in the works, but out of the repetitive nature held within the pages, a retreading of ground so thoroughly trampled already.

The most grating feature is how, despite living in one of the most fantastically infused setting known to mankind, Drizzt is still an Atheist!  This is not a sting operation on what beliefs people hold, but simply my lack of any ability to accept both the world presented and the conclusions drawn by Drizzt.  Now, this would be fine if it were presented as Drizzt not accepting the "gods" of the Forgotten Realms as real gods, as this is practically true considering the lore of the setting, but IIRC, he simply does not believe, or rather he is on the verge of unbelief, which is perhaps more infuriating, as he has been on this verge for over a decade.

It should be said that some truly interesting possibilities could have been explored using this unbelief, again pointing to the lore of the setting, where the gods are not real gods, and Ao may not even be god either (looking at 2e spelljammer crystal spheres). But no.  Over the course of these books there is nothing to this extent, not even a hint of one that I can remember. (It would certainly be interesting if I were wrong on this point...)

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Now to step away from Drizzt...

As well, I read, about six years ago now, a different series by good old R. A., "The Coven," though I should say half of the series, the first book and half of the second- I skipped to the end of that one.

The first book was... decent, not good by any stretch, but these were new characters to me, although I eventually came to understand that this was set in a preexisting world, and the setting as it was was fresh compared to Salvatore's usual, so, for the most part, I enjoyed most of the book.

Then the second book arrived at the library- and it felt like a pisstake.  Or more politely, a most concerted effort to end the story in the stupidest and quickest way possible, throwing away any concept of the writing conventions for foreshadowing; the bomb under the table was not indicated in any way to the audience, neither was the axe-wielding maniac, nor the pit to hell.

The simplest way to describe it would be: Monkeys!  The most complex: As so many flies in your soup.

Starting with the simplest description, which happens to be the events of book as they transpired, to my recollection:  A previously unmentioned, entirely unmentioned, race of aztec-inspired monkey(?) people have assembled an army and are about to set out to war against the tribes from the first book.  With no indication prior to what is inside it, the giant crystal in the evil tribe's village suddenly explodes and inside is the monkey god-king.  With no indication prior to the true nature of it, the evil fish creature, located in the lake which the other tribes live on, turns out to be the mount of the monkey god-king.  Said lake is drained, and with no indication prior to its existence, there turns out to be a sprawling ancient city beneath it.

In an impressively short amount of time, or so it felt, everything established in the first book, short of the main characters and a couple of outside locations, was completely and utterly destroyed, razed to the ground, decimated or else-wise brought to total and complete ruin.

Such wholesale catastrophe the fates could not fathom.

Yet the aged mind of an oxygenarian accomplishes this with seeming ease, as there is still one more book to go.

Spiders

I am being facetious of course.

Nevertheless, I must continue.

The complex version of events would be perhaps the best metaphor I could come with to express my experience reading these two books: Imagine, if you will, taking yourself or your family to a restaurant that you have never been to before, and being delightfully surprised at the quality of the food, so you decide to return at a later date.  Upon your return, you find that, intentionally interspersed throughout the food is spiders, spiders everywhere, spiders in the pie, spiders in the water, H.P. Lovecraft would be proud, but as it stands, and your family is certainly standing, horror is the predominant emotion at your table and running through your heart- in short, you will never return again, though you wonder if you will even have the chance.