For Britain, conditions are grim: Napoleon’s resurgent forces have breached the Channel and successfully invaded English soil. Napoleon’s prime objective is the occupation of London. Unfortunately, the dragon Temeraire has been removed from military service–and his captain, Will Laurence, has been condemned to death for treason. Separated by their own government and threatened at every turn by Napoleon’s forces, Laurence and Temeraire must struggle to find each other amid the turmoil of war. If only they can be reunited, master and dragon might rally Britain’s scattered resistance forces and take the fight to the enemy as never before–for king and country, and for their own liberty.
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Victory of Eagles: A Novel of Temeraire
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Chapter 1
The breeding grounds were called Pen Y Fan, after the hard, jagged slash of the mountain at their heart, like an ax-blade, rimed with ice along its edge and rising barren over the moorlands: a cold, wet Welsh autumn already, coming on towards winter, and the other dragons sleepy and remote, uninterested in anything but their meals. There were a few hundred of them scattered throughout the grounds, mostly established in caves or on rocky ledges, wherever they could fit themselves; nothing of comfort or even order provided for them, except the feedings, and the mowed-bare strip of dirt around the borders, where torches were lit at night to mark the lines past which they might not go, with the town-lights glimmering in the distance, cheerful and forbidden.
Temeraire had hunted out and cleared a large cavern, on his arrival, to sleep in; but it would be damp, no matter what he did in the way of lining it with grass, or flapping his wings to move the air, which in any case did not suit his instinctive notions of dignity: much better to endure every unpleasantness with stoic patience, although that was not very satisfying when no-one would appreciate the effort. The other dragons certainly did not.
He was quite sure he and Laurence had done as they ought, in taking the cure to France, and no-one sensible could disagree; but just in case, Temeraire had steeled himself to meet with either disapproval or contempt, and he had worked out several very fine arguments in his defense. Most importantly, of course, it was just a cowardly, sneaking way of fighting: if the Government wished to beat Napoleon, they ought to fight him directly, and not make his dragons sick to try and make him easy to defeat; as if British dragons could not beat French dragons, without cheating. “And not only that,” he added, “but it would not be only the French dragons who died: our friends from Prussia who are imprisoned in their breeding grounds would also have got sick, and perhaps it might even have gone so far as China; and that would be like stealing someone else’s food, even when you are not hungry; or breaking their eggs.”
He made this impressive speech to the wall of his cave, as practice: they had refused to give him his sand-table, and he had no-one of his crew to jot it down for him, either; he did not have Laurence, who would have helped him work out just what to say. So he repeated the arguments over to himself quietly, instead, so he should not forget them. And if these should not suffice to persuade, he thought, he might point out that after all, he had brought the cure back, in the first place: he and Laurence, with Maximus and Lily and the rest of their formation, and if anyone had a right to say where it should be shared out, they did: no-one would even have known of it if Temeraire had not contrived to be sick in Africa, where the mushrooms which cured it grew.
He might have saved the trouble. No-one accused him of anything, nor, as he had privately, a little wistfully, thought just barely possible, hailed him as a hero; because they did not care.
The older dragons, not feral but retired, were a little curious about the latest developments in the war, but only distantly, more inclined to tell over their own battles of earlier wars; and the rest had plenty of indignation over the recent epidemic, but only in a provincial way. They cared that they and their own fellows had sickened and died; they cared that the cure had taken so long to reach them; but it did not mean anything to them that dragons in France had also been ill, or that the disease would have spread, killing thousands, if Temeraire and Laurence had not taken over the cure; they also did not care that the Lords of the Admiralty had called it treason, and sentenced Laurence to die.
They had nothing to care for. They were fed, and there was enough for everyone. If the shelter was not pleasant, it was no worse than what even the retired dragons were used to, from the days of their active service; they had none of them even heard of a pavilion, or thought they might be made more comfortable than they were. No-one ever molested an egg; the grounds-keepers would take them away, but with infinite care, in waggons lined with straw, hot-water bottles and woolen blankets in the wintertime; and they would bring back reports until the eggs were hatched and no more of anyone’s concern; so everyone knew the eggs were safe in their hands; safer, even, than keeping them oneself, so even the dragons who had not cared to take a captain themselves, at all, would often as not hand over their own eggs. They could not go flying very far, because they were fed at no set time but randomly, from day to day, so if one went away out of ear-shot of the bells, one was likely to come too late, and go hungry all the day. So there was no larger society, no intercourse with the other breeding grounds or with the coverts, except when some other dragon came from afar, to mate; even that was arranged for them. Instead they sat, willing prisoners in their own territory, Temeraire thought bitterly; he would never have endured it if not for Laurence, only for Laurence, who would surely be put to death at once if Temeraire did not obey.
He held himself aloof from their society at first. There was his cave to be arranged: despite its fine prospect it had been left vacant for being inconveniently shallow, and he was rather crammed-in; but there was a much larger chamber beyond, visible through holes in the back wall, which he gradually opened up with the slow and cautious use of his roar. Slower, even, than perhaps necessary—he was very willing to have the task consume several days. The cave had then to be cleared of debris, old gnawed bones and inconvenient boulders, which he scraped out painstakingly even from the corners too small for him to lie in, for neatness’ sake; and he found a few rough boulders in the valley and used them to grind the cave walls a little smoother, by dragging them back and forth, throwing up a great cloud of dust.
It made him sneeze, but he kept on; he was not going to live in a raw untidy hole. He knocked down stalactites from the ceiling, and beat protrusions flat into the floor, and when he was satisfied, he arranged along the sides of what was now his antechamber, with careful nudges of his talons, some attractive rocks and old, dead tree-branches, twisted and bleached white, which he had collected from the woods and ravines. He would have liked a pond and a fountain, but he could not see how to bring the water up, or how to make it run when he had got it there, so he settled for picking out a promontory on Llyn y Fan Fawr which jutted into the lake, and considering it also his own.
To finish he carved the characters of his name into the cliff face by the entrance, and also in English, although the letter R gave him some difficulty and came out looking rather like the reversed numeral 4; then he was done with that, and routine crept up and devoured his days. To rise, when the sun came in at the cave-mouth; to take a little exercise, to nap, to rise again when the herdsmen rang the bell, to eat, then to nap and to exercise again, and then back to sleep; and that was the end of the day, there was nothing more. He hunted for himself, once, and so did not go to the daily feeding; later that day one of the small dragons brought up the grounds- master, Mr. Lloyd, and a surgeon, to be sure that he was not ill; and they lectured him on poaching sternly enough to make him uneasy for Laurence’s sake.
For all that, Lloyd did not think of him as a traitor, either; did not think enough of him to consider him one. The grounds-master only cared about his charges so far as they all stayed inside the borders, and ate, and mated; he recognized neither dignity nor stoicism, and anything which Temeraire did out of the ordinary was only a bit of fussing. “Come now, we have a fresh lady Anglewing visiting to-day,” Lloyd would say, jocularly, “quite a nice little piece; we will have a fine evening, eh? Perhaps we would like a bite of veal, first? Yes, we would, I am sure,” providing the responses with the questions, so Temeraire had nothing to do but sit and listen; and as Lloyd was a little hard of hearing, if Temeraire did try to say, “No, I would rather have some venison, and you might roast it first,” he was sure to be ignored.
It was almost enough to put one off making eggs, and in any case Temeraire was growing uncomfortably sure that his mother would not have approved in the least, how often they wished him to try, and how indiscriminately. Lien would certainly have sniffed in the most insulting way. It was not the fault of the female dragons sent to visit him, they were all very pleasant, but most of them had never managed an egg before, and some had never even been in a real battle or done anything interesting at all. So then they were embarrassed, as they did not have any suitable present for him which might have made up for it; and it was not as though he could pretend that he was not a very remarkable dragon, even if he liked to. Which he did not, very much, although he would have tried for Bellusa, a poor young Malachite Reaper without a single action to her name, sent by the Admiralty from Edinburgh, who miserably offered him a small knotted rug, which was all her confused captain would afford: it might have made a blanket for Temeraire’s largest talon.
“It is very handsome,” Temeraire said awkwardly, “and so cleverly done; I admire the colors very much,” and tried to drape it carefully over a small rock, by the entrance, but the gesture only made her look more wretched, and she burst out, “Oh, I do beg your pardon; he wouldn’t understand in the least, and thought I meant I would not like to, and then he said—” and she stopped abruptly in even worse confusion; so Temeraire was sure that whatever her captain had said, it had not been at all nice. It was as painful as could be, and... --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Poche .
The breeding grounds were called Pen Y Fan, after the hard, jagged slash of the mountain at their heart, like an ax-blade, rimed with ice along its edge and rising barren over the moorlands: a cold, wet Welsh autumn already, coming on towards winter, and the other dragons sleepy and remote, uninterested in anything but their meals. There were a few hundred of them scattered throughout the grounds, mostly established in caves or on rocky ledges, wherever they could fit themselves; nothing of comfort or even order provided for them, except the feedings, and the mowed-bare strip of dirt around the borders, where torches were lit at night to mark the lines past which they might not go, with the town-lights glimmering in the distance, cheerful and forbidden.
Temeraire had hunted out and cleared a large cavern, on his arrival, to sleep in; but it would be damp, no matter what he did in the way of lining it with grass, or flapping his wings to move the air, which in any case did not suit his instinctive notions of dignity: much better to endure every unpleasantness with stoic patience, although that was not very satisfying when no-one would appreciate the effort. The other dragons certainly did not.
He was quite sure he and Laurence had done as they ought, in taking the cure to France, and no-one sensible could disagree; but just in case, Temeraire had steeled himself to meet with either disapproval or contempt, and he had worked out several very fine arguments in his defense. Most importantly, of course, it was just a cowardly, sneaking way of fighting: if the Government wished to beat Napoleon, they ought to fight him directly, and not make his dragons sick to try and make him easy to defeat; as if British dragons could not beat French dragons, without cheating. “And not only that,” he added, “but it would not be only the French dragons who died: our friends from Prussia who are imprisoned in their breeding grounds would also have got sick, and perhaps it might even have gone so far as China; and that would be like stealing someone else’s food, even when you are not hungry; or breaking their eggs.”
He made this impressive speech to the wall of his cave, as practice: they had refused to give him his sand-table, and he had no-one of his crew to jot it down for him, either; he did not have Laurence, who would have helped him work out just what to say. So he repeated the arguments over to himself quietly, instead, so he should not forget them. And if these should not suffice to persuade, he thought, he might point out that after all, he had brought the cure back, in the first place: he and Laurence, with Maximus and Lily and the rest of their formation, and if anyone had a right to say where it should be shared out, they did: no-one would even have known of it if Temeraire had not contrived to be sick in Africa, where the mushrooms which cured it grew.
He might have saved the trouble. No-one accused him of anything, nor, as he had privately, a little wistfully, thought just barely possible, hailed him as a hero; because they did not care.
The older dragons, not feral but retired, were a little curious about the latest developments in the war, but only distantly, more inclined to tell over their own battles of earlier wars; and the rest had plenty of indignation over the recent epidemic, but only in a provincial way. They cared that they and their own fellows had sickened and died; they cared that the cure had taken so long to reach them; but it did not mean anything to them that dragons in France had also been ill, or that the disease would have spread, killing thousands, if Temeraire and Laurence had not taken over the cure; they also did not care that the Lords of the Admiralty had called it treason, and sentenced Laurence to die.
They had nothing to care for. They were fed, and there was enough for everyone. If the shelter was not pleasant, it was no worse than what even the retired dragons were used to, from the days of their active service; they had none of them even heard of a pavilion, or thought they might be made more comfortable than they were. No-one ever molested an egg; the grounds-keepers would take them away, but with infinite care, in waggons lined with straw, hot-water bottles and woolen blankets in the wintertime; and they would bring back reports until the eggs were hatched and no more of anyone’s concern; so everyone knew the eggs were safe in their hands; safer, even, than keeping them oneself, so even the dragons who had not cared to take a captain themselves, at all, would often as not hand over their own eggs. They could not go flying very far, because they were fed at no set time but randomly, from day to day, so if one went away out of ear-shot of the bells, one was likely to come too late, and go hungry all the day. So there was no larger society, no intercourse with the other breeding grounds or with the coverts, except when some other dragon came from afar, to mate; even that was arranged for them. Instead they sat, willing prisoners in their own territory, Temeraire thought bitterly; he would never have endured it if not for Laurence, only for Laurence, who would surely be put to death at once if Temeraire did not obey.
He held himself aloof from their society at first. There was his cave to be arranged: despite its fine prospect it had been left vacant for being inconveniently shallow, and he was rather crammed-in; but there was a much larger chamber beyond, visible through holes in the back wall, which he gradually opened up with the slow and cautious use of his roar. Slower, even, than perhaps necessary—he was very willing to have the task consume several days. The cave had then to be cleared of debris, old gnawed bones and inconvenient boulders, which he scraped out painstakingly even from the corners too small for him to lie in, for neatness’ sake; and he found a few rough boulders in the valley and used them to grind the cave walls a little smoother, by dragging them back and forth, throwing up a great cloud of dust.
It made him sneeze, but he kept on; he was not going to live in a raw untidy hole. He knocked down stalactites from the ceiling, and beat protrusions flat into the floor, and when he was satisfied, he arranged along the sides of what was now his antechamber, with careful nudges of his talons, some attractive rocks and old, dead tree-branches, twisted and bleached white, which he had collected from the woods and ravines. He would have liked a pond and a fountain, but he could not see how to bring the water up, or how to make it run when he had got it there, so he settled for picking out a promontory on Llyn y Fan Fawr which jutted into the lake, and considering it also his own.
To finish he carved the characters of his name into the cliff face by the entrance, and also in English, although the letter R gave him some difficulty and came out looking rather like the reversed numeral 4; then he was done with that, and routine crept up and devoured his days. To rise, when the sun came in at the cave-mouth; to take a little exercise, to nap, to rise again when the herdsmen rang the bell, to eat, then to nap and to exercise again, and then back to sleep; and that was the end of the day, there was nothing more. He hunted for himself, once, and so did not go to the daily feeding; later that day one of the small dragons brought up the grounds- master, Mr. Lloyd, and a surgeon, to be sure that he was not ill; and they lectured him on poaching sternly enough to make him uneasy for Laurence’s sake.
For all that, Lloyd did not think of him as a traitor, either; did not think enough of him to consider him one. The grounds-master only cared about his charges so far as they all stayed inside the borders, and ate, and mated; he recognized neither dignity nor stoicism, and anything which Temeraire did out of the ordinary was only a bit of fussing. “Come now, we have a fresh lady Anglewing visiting to-day,” Lloyd would say, jocularly, “quite a nice little piece; we will have a fine evening, eh? Perhaps we would like a bite of veal, first? Yes, we would, I am sure,” providing the responses with the questions, so Temeraire had nothing to do but sit and listen; and as Lloyd was a little hard of hearing, if Temeraire did try to say, “No, I would rather have some venison, and you might roast it first,” he was sure to be ignored.
It was almost enough to put one off making eggs, and in any case Temeraire was growing uncomfortably sure that his mother would not have approved in the least, how often they wished him to try, and how indiscriminately. Lien would certainly have sniffed in the most insulting way. It was not the fault of the female dragons sent to visit him, they were all very pleasant, but most of them had never managed an egg before, and some had never even been in a real battle or done anything interesting at all. So then they were embarrassed, as they did not have any suitable present for him which might have made up for it; and it was not as though he could pretend that he was not a very remarkable dragon, even if he liked to. Which he did not, very much, although he would have tried for Bellusa, a poor young Malachite Reaper without a single action to her name, sent by the Admiralty from Edinburgh, who miserably offered him a small knotted rug, which was all her confused captain would afford: it might have made a blanket for Temeraire’s largest talon.
“It is very handsome,” Temeraire said awkwardly, “and so cleverly done; I admire the colors very much,” and tried to drape it carefully over a small rock, by the entrance, but the gesture only made her look more wretched, and she burst out, “Oh, I do beg your pardon; he wouldn’t understand in the least, and thought I meant I would not like to, and then he said—” and she stopped abruptly in even worse confusion; so Temeraire was sure that whatever her captain had said, it had not been at all nice. It was as painful as could be, and... --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Poche .
Revue de presse
“Invigorating . . . filled with spectacle . . . Naomi Novik has not sounded a wrong note yet in this sweeping, lustrous saga. . . . [This is] a glorious series whose future status as a genre classic is now assured.”—SF Reviews
“Engrossing . . . sheer page-turning excitement.”—Booklist
“Dragonslayer meets Master and Commander.”—Entertainment Weekly --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Poche .
“Engrossing . . . sheer page-turning excitement.”—Booklist
“Dragonslayer meets Master and Commander.”—Entertainment Weekly --Ce texte fait référence à l'édition Poche .
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An interesting POV, plenty of action
12 juillet 2008
Par Rebecca Huston
- Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié|Achat authentifié par Amazon
One of the best historical fantasy series to show up in recent years has been Naomi Novik's Temeraire. Full of historical details in a world that is very close to our own, set in a world where dragons are quite real, and captained by crews of humans, serve as part of aerial corps, fighting in wars.
The setting is unusual as well -- the Napoleonic Wars, and with the fifth novel and its ominous title, Victory of Eagles things are not looking too good for the British. In an appalling display of stupidity by the Admiralty, Temeraire and Laurence, his captain, have been separated after the events of the previous novel. Laurence is aboard a ship, locked up in a brig, and the threat of execution follows him everywhere. He knows that if he cooperates, that Temeraire will not be harmed, and so does his best.
And his beloved Temeraire? The Celestial dragon is off in the remote mountains of Wales, condemned to the breeding grounds while a perfectly good war is raging on. Instead he's stuck in a remote valley, with nothing but a pokey cave to live in, no books, and even though there's plenty to eat, all that there is to do is sleep and ahem, make an egg with a willing dragon.
Needless to say, Temeraire is less than pleased about the situation. And his new neighbors are not that interesting either, especially a Regal Copper that has decided that Temeraire's cave would make a very nice home for himself. And there's Gentius an ancient Longwing who is pleased to talk to Temeraire. Most of all, there are Temeraire's own thoughts, and a chance to look at the world through the dragon's eyes.
When word comes that Laurence's ship has been sunk by the French, Temeraire decides that the time has come to break free of all of the stuffy rules. After all, the British have broken their word, and he feels that there's nothing to hold him back. So in a daring maneuver, he rounds up the dragons in the breeding ground, and he will lead them into battle against Napoleon.
And Napoleon? The French emperor is on the march again, this time crossing the Channel and setting his sights on capturing London...
I won't reveal much more here, as so not to reveal any spoilers, except that there are several new characters here, as well as quite a few of the earlier ones make a return. Most interesting is the Iron Duke himself, Wellington, and even a glimpse of poor King George III. Iskierka and Granby have a prominent role, and we see the rather harried Jane Roland having to cope with military men who have not a clue about how dragons can be used in battle. The action is breakneck, along with the pacing -- very rarely does the story slow down.
One aspect that I have enjoyed very much is watching Temeraire?s evolution in the series, as he matures and grows in his abilities to both deal with people, and his own sense of justice and morality. There are times when you can feel his frustration with dealing with humans, or the confusion of why don?t they get it? It?s one aspect of Novik?s creation that she is able to breathe in new life to the rather hackneyed use of dragons. Here they are personalities, and sentient beings, with ambitions, thoughts, and emotions of their own, and sometimes they don?t always mesh neatly with those of humans.
As with the previous novels, this is definitely part of a series. For someone who wants to start reading here, I recommend that you don't -- there is so much in here that relies on the earlier novels, that it would be nearly impossible to understand the current story without going back and reading the first four books.
One thing that I wish the series had was some kind of directory to keep all of the various types of dragons straight. While the first book had some drawings and a few details, there's very little here to help visualize many of the creatures, and create a mental picture of the action and details. It's one oversight that I hope will be taken care of either in a separate volume or in future books. This is the only real disgruntlement that I've had with the series so far.
A warning however -- don't try to read this one late at night. The odds will be that you'll be up still at dawn turning pages and eagerly seeing what happens next. The ending, as with before, is a bit of a cliffhanger, and I hope is a sign that there will be more to come.
Four and a half stars, rounded up to five. Recommended.
The setting is unusual as well -- the Napoleonic Wars, and with the fifth novel and its ominous title, Victory of Eagles things are not looking too good for the British. In an appalling display of stupidity by the Admiralty, Temeraire and Laurence, his captain, have been separated after the events of the previous novel. Laurence is aboard a ship, locked up in a brig, and the threat of execution follows him everywhere. He knows that if he cooperates, that Temeraire will not be harmed, and so does his best.
And his beloved Temeraire? The Celestial dragon is off in the remote mountains of Wales, condemned to the breeding grounds while a perfectly good war is raging on. Instead he's stuck in a remote valley, with nothing but a pokey cave to live in, no books, and even though there's plenty to eat, all that there is to do is sleep and ahem, make an egg with a willing dragon.
Needless to say, Temeraire is less than pleased about the situation. And his new neighbors are not that interesting either, especially a Regal Copper that has decided that Temeraire's cave would make a very nice home for himself. And there's Gentius an ancient Longwing who is pleased to talk to Temeraire. Most of all, there are Temeraire's own thoughts, and a chance to look at the world through the dragon's eyes.
When word comes that Laurence's ship has been sunk by the French, Temeraire decides that the time has come to break free of all of the stuffy rules. After all, the British have broken their word, and he feels that there's nothing to hold him back. So in a daring maneuver, he rounds up the dragons in the breeding ground, and he will lead them into battle against Napoleon.
And Napoleon? The French emperor is on the march again, this time crossing the Channel and setting his sights on capturing London...
I won't reveal much more here, as so not to reveal any spoilers, except that there are several new characters here, as well as quite a few of the earlier ones make a return. Most interesting is the Iron Duke himself, Wellington, and even a glimpse of poor King George III. Iskierka and Granby have a prominent role, and we see the rather harried Jane Roland having to cope with military men who have not a clue about how dragons can be used in battle. The action is breakneck, along with the pacing -- very rarely does the story slow down.
One aspect that I have enjoyed very much is watching Temeraire?s evolution in the series, as he matures and grows in his abilities to both deal with people, and his own sense of justice and morality. There are times when you can feel his frustration with dealing with humans, or the confusion of why don?t they get it? It?s one aspect of Novik?s creation that she is able to breathe in new life to the rather hackneyed use of dragons. Here they are personalities, and sentient beings, with ambitions, thoughts, and emotions of their own, and sometimes they don?t always mesh neatly with those of humans.
As with the previous novels, this is definitely part of a series. For someone who wants to start reading here, I recommend that you don't -- there is so much in here that relies on the earlier novels, that it would be nearly impossible to understand the current story without going back and reading the first four books.
One thing that I wish the series had was some kind of directory to keep all of the various types of dragons straight. While the first book had some drawings and a few details, there's very little here to help visualize many of the creatures, and create a mental picture of the action and details. It's one oversight that I hope will be taken care of either in a separate volume or in future books. This is the only real disgruntlement that I've had with the series so far.
A warning however -- don't try to read this one late at night. The odds will be that you'll be up still at dawn turning pages and eagerly seeing what happens next. The ending, as with before, is a bit of a cliffhanger, and I hope is a sign that there will be more to come.
Four and a half stars, rounded up to five. Recommended.
17 internautes sur 19 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile
4.0 étoiles sur 5
Victory Of Eagles; positive but mixed, needs some happy (Spoiler)
7 mai 2009
Par A. M. Richardso
- Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Format Kindle|Achat authentifié par Amazon
I came late to the Temeraire series, downloading the free - Her Majesty's Dragon a little over a week ago and reading the entire series as if one big book in the last 7 days.
First the positive: I love most of the ideals of the series, freedom, respect, self determination, honor dignity, responsibility and loyalty regardless of race, creed, color or in this case species. I actually cried when Levitas looked up at his captain the heartless Rankin and said with his dying breath, "you came". I tear up thinking about that moment, as I write this review. I love the different perspective the series presents again and again, seeing issues from the "other side" forces me to think outside my own paradigms. I enjoy that rather than a stereotypic presentation of Napoleon, the author instead chooses to focus on his need to influence, strategic decision making and subtle stabs ie: knowing that by sparing Lord Allendale's home he pushes Laurence further away from the Lordship and military leaders of England. I enjoyed the introduction of Percitia who refused to fight and instead used her intellect despite the fear of being labeled a coward. I enjoyed the idea that the Dragons would finally recognize their right to free will.
Now to what ultimately left me unfulfilled.
1. As amazed as I am to say this, I'm getting tired, no bored of William Laurence. Laurence takes great pride in his honor and resulting self sacrifice, but again and again is willing to potentially put Temeraire in a position of a century(s) of misery only to serve his now ridiculous sense of honor (there is no honor or duty in genocide). First by returning to England after providing a cure to the Dragon Plague, and then again at the end of this book by accepting a life sentence of hard labor for both of them instead of offending his sense of honor and defending his right to freedom based on the promise provided during the invasion. While he obviously has good intent, but if he truly believed Dragons to be equal creatures then he should feel less guilty for preventing genocide. He should be more willing to argue his case, "honorable" or not. Strangely, if Laurence were to die the prime emotional kick in the gut would be how it would effect Temeraire, a bad sign. Laurence should be able to stand on his own as a character and if he's going to, he needs to stop being so dark, always.
2. They are never happy. I'm finding that the lack of ebb and flow in their happiness is inoculating me when things go bad, things are always going bad. At some point Temeraire/Laurence need to be happy so when that happiness is disturbed it actually feels like a loss.
3. Little incongruities in ideals mentioned above in the positives. The author goes to great lengths to present the idea that Percitia (who is slow, small and will not fight) still has great value to the war cause and dragons in general. Percitia comes up with a idea that likley saves the day, yet without much thought their pay scale is set on the size of each Dragon, reducing them again to livestock, and they agree?? The whole idea of having a smallish dragon attend the negotiations was to ensure equal payment/treatment, then they agree to a livestock weight/pay agreement?
4. Lien/Temeraire - I don't mind that they don't meet in battle, I just wish the author would allow Temeraire to grow a little and be more strategic, not continually outwitted by Lien. Its the dragon version of the Laurence problem. If Lien is never (2 books), disappointed and always ahead, it's no surprise when she again outsmarts Temeraire and his group. Even in this book, the trap was fallen into not by Lien but by Napoleon. The repeated Lien escapes would be more rewarding if there was ever even the smallest sense of risk for her.
5. This is my final criticism. I'm going to buy the next book and the first thing I'm going to do is turn to the back page. If Laurence or Temerarie are *again* in chains, arrested, injured and dying, or otherwise in dire straights it will be the last, of a series I love. There are far better ways to provide a bridge to the next book than to have every book end with some unresolved bad situation, that starts to feel like a comic book after awhile.
So how did I give this book 4 stars?
The author has an excellent ability to get you to understand the characters and their motivations. The stories are interesting and have enough history embedded so you almost feel compelled to review the historical subject matter after the fact.
And most important, Temeraire is the kind of companion anyone would love to have by their side, whatever species.
First the positive: I love most of the ideals of the series, freedom, respect, self determination, honor dignity, responsibility and loyalty regardless of race, creed, color or in this case species. I actually cried when Levitas looked up at his captain the heartless Rankin and said with his dying breath, "you came". I tear up thinking about that moment, as I write this review. I love the different perspective the series presents again and again, seeing issues from the "other side" forces me to think outside my own paradigms. I enjoy that rather than a stereotypic presentation of Napoleon, the author instead chooses to focus on his need to influence, strategic decision making and subtle stabs ie: knowing that by sparing Lord Allendale's home he pushes Laurence further away from the Lordship and military leaders of England. I enjoyed the introduction of Percitia who refused to fight and instead used her intellect despite the fear of being labeled a coward. I enjoyed the idea that the Dragons would finally recognize their right to free will.
Now to what ultimately left me unfulfilled.
1. As amazed as I am to say this, I'm getting tired, no bored of William Laurence. Laurence takes great pride in his honor and resulting self sacrifice, but again and again is willing to potentially put Temeraire in a position of a century(s) of misery only to serve his now ridiculous sense of honor (there is no honor or duty in genocide). First by returning to England after providing a cure to the Dragon Plague, and then again at the end of this book by accepting a life sentence of hard labor for both of them instead of offending his sense of honor and defending his right to freedom based on the promise provided during the invasion. While he obviously has good intent, but if he truly believed Dragons to be equal creatures then he should feel less guilty for preventing genocide. He should be more willing to argue his case, "honorable" or not. Strangely, if Laurence were to die the prime emotional kick in the gut would be how it would effect Temeraire, a bad sign. Laurence should be able to stand on his own as a character and if he's going to, he needs to stop being so dark, always.
2. They are never happy. I'm finding that the lack of ebb and flow in their happiness is inoculating me when things go bad, things are always going bad. At some point Temeraire/Laurence need to be happy so when that happiness is disturbed it actually feels like a loss.
3. Little incongruities in ideals mentioned above in the positives. The author goes to great lengths to present the idea that Percitia (who is slow, small and will not fight) still has great value to the war cause and dragons in general. Percitia comes up with a idea that likley saves the day, yet without much thought their pay scale is set on the size of each Dragon, reducing them again to livestock, and they agree?? The whole idea of having a smallish dragon attend the negotiations was to ensure equal payment/treatment, then they agree to a livestock weight/pay agreement?
4. Lien/Temeraire - I don't mind that they don't meet in battle, I just wish the author would allow Temeraire to grow a little and be more strategic, not continually outwitted by Lien. Its the dragon version of the Laurence problem. If Lien is never (2 books), disappointed and always ahead, it's no surprise when she again outsmarts Temeraire and his group. Even in this book, the trap was fallen into not by Lien but by Napoleon. The repeated Lien escapes would be more rewarding if there was ever even the smallest sense of risk for her.
5. This is my final criticism. I'm going to buy the next book and the first thing I'm going to do is turn to the back page. If Laurence or Temerarie are *again* in chains, arrested, injured and dying, or otherwise in dire straights it will be the last, of a series I love. There are far better ways to provide a bridge to the next book than to have every book end with some unresolved bad situation, that starts to feel like a comic book after awhile.
So how did I give this book 4 stars?
The author has an excellent ability to get you to understand the characters and their motivations. The stories are interesting and have enough history embedded so you almost feel compelled to review the historical subject matter after the fact.
And most important, Temeraire is the kind of companion anyone would love to have by their side, whatever species.
28 internautes sur 36 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile
2.0 étoiles sur 5
***Sigh***
13 août 2008
Par WesternWilson
- Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Relié
First, and out of kindness to Ms. Novik, I am a great fan of this series, in particular books one and two. She has successfully married "Master and Commander" to "Dragonriders of Pern", an act that must have taken considerable courage. And in the main has produced an enjoyable read.
Unfortunately, that read is not to be found in this fifth installment in the series. After settling in comfortably with Captain Laurence and his dear Temeraire, it dawned on me that nothing, nothing at all, was really happening in this book. Laurence broods throughout the novel, embracing his identity as a convicted traitor doomed to hang. Temeraire begins sowing socialist, or are those capitalist?, notions amongst his fellow exiles on the dragon breeding grounds. And then Napoleon invades England, requiring the nation to reunite our two heroes and unleash their considerable military prowess.
Novik is kind enough to reintroduce many of our favourite characters, but with the exception of Laurence's mother, Lady Allendale, they fail to rise above cookie-cutterdom. I became downright annoyed at her portrait of the testy and impatient Duke of Wellington, whose constant sneering made me wonder....how could this man ever have inspired a nation?
With the thinnest of plots, a minimum of character development, and a large quotient of deus ex machina thundering in the background, it strikes me that Ms. Novik is rushing her deadlines and coasting on her laurels, perhaps indulged by her publishers and the moonstruck fan quotient as well. The book chugs along comfortably enjoying its own formula. Not good enough, Naomi, not good enough by half.
As we move to Book 6, and its very interesting locale, I hope the author slows down and makes a sincere attempt to give her characters and plotlines some well deserved depth and richness. There is so much to work with here, and such wonderful personalities to explore and explicate, things most writers would sell their souls for. I wonder if Ms. Novik's history in, and enthusiasm for, fan-fic is blinding her to the possibilities, and responsibilities, that present themselves in an original work.
As Temeraire would say, "Don't drop the egg."
Unfortunately, that read is not to be found in this fifth installment in the series. After settling in comfortably with Captain Laurence and his dear Temeraire, it dawned on me that nothing, nothing at all, was really happening in this book. Laurence broods throughout the novel, embracing his identity as a convicted traitor doomed to hang. Temeraire begins sowing socialist, or are those capitalist?, notions amongst his fellow exiles on the dragon breeding grounds. And then Napoleon invades England, requiring the nation to reunite our two heroes and unleash their considerable military prowess.
Novik is kind enough to reintroduce many of our favourite characters, but with the exception of Laurence's mother, Lady Allendale, they fail to rise above cookie-cutterdom. I became downright annoyed at her portrait of the testy and impatient Duke of Wellington, whose constant sneering made me wonder....how could this man ever have inspired a nation?
With the thinnest of plots, a minimum of character development, and a large quotient of deus ex machina thundering in the background, it strikes me that Ms. Novik is rushing her deadlines and coasting on her laurels, perhaps indulged by her publishers and the moonstruck fan quotient as well. The book chugs along comfortably enjoying its own formula. Not good enough, Naomi, not good enough by half.
As we move to Book 6, and its very interesting locale, I hope the author slows down and makes a sincere attempt to give her characters and plotlines some well deserved depth and richness. There is so much to work with here, and such wonderful personalities to explore and explicate, things most writers would sell their souls for. I wonder if Ms. Novik's history in, and enthusiasm for, fan-fic is blinding her to the possibilities, and responsibilities, that present themselves in an original work.
As Temeraire would say, "Don't drop the egg."
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