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Eragon - a review

Christopher Paolini is not a good author. I know it. You know it. Anyone who has ever touched his books has known it, though they may not admit it. In fact, it seems the only person who isn't aware of Paolini's utter inability to form a gripping piece of literature is the man himself.

First let's start with some history: as a 10 year old boy, Paolini was a fan of fantasy literature but was upset that there weren't enough quality works in it (take note of the ego on this one folks, we'll come back to it later.) Determined to show these published authors how it was done, he planned his "Inheritance Cycle" and got it published at the age of ... 15! Wow! Well, if he could break into the market so young then he surely must have some... oh wait, he used a self-publishing company.

Owned by his parents.

Sigh.

Surprisingly, Chris's vanity project wasn't very successful at first, even after - and I'm not making this up - Touring the country in full medieval regalia like a deranged ren-faire attendant. No, li'l Chris didn't strike it big until a real author (one Carl Hiaasen) tripped over it on vacation and suggested it to publisher Alfred A. Kompf, presumably as an elaborate prank. Now, it may seem like this "review" is turning into a series of Ad Hominem attacks against the author, but bear with me here, because I'm building up to one of my major complaints against the books as a whole:

" If a book has to be advertised based on novelty (say... a 15 year old author) rather than on it's own merit then it probably isn't good."

But let's see for ourselves, shall we?

Eragon starts off with a rebel Princess fleeing from agents of an evil empire with important cargo in tow. Before she is captured, she sends the plot point away to keep it from being captured, where it lands in the middle of a farming colony in which... You know what? In order to save myself from having to lay it out in detail, I'm going to have you decide if this sounds familiar: An ancient order of mystic knights is betrayed by one of its members who kills the others and establishes an evil empire. Various small factions band together to form a resistance, led in part by a Princess. She's captured while transporting an important item (in this case a dragons' egg) and "jettisons" it to an innocuous farming colony where a young boy (raised by his aunt & uncle no less) finds it and is drawn into the much larger world around him, assisted by the creepy old hermit from the outside of town who turns out to be - gasp - one of the ancient knights! He mentors Eragon in the ways of magic. I'll stop here to keep from spoiling the "plot" but suffice it to say Paolini's work is derivative to the core. When he isn't blatantly aping Lucas he's aping another, much better fantasy novel series (The Dragonriders of Pern). Though when you look at his original work it becomes apparent why he prefers to steal than create.

The characters, for example, are unlikable. While CP doesn't exactly fail to make them seem alive, they fail to inspire anything but apathy, and their characterization is flimsy at best. Eragon schizophrenically switches from groan-inducing "heroism" to angsty incompetence. (this is a problem I have with a lot of newer authors: Mindless whiny "drama" is not good character development) and the supporting cast isn't much better. Saphira (the dragon) is a passive, quiet presence that exists as more of a prop than a proper character. Effort is made to give her personality and to be fair there was potential to explore her dynamic with Eragon that would placate, if not entertain. Sadly, it is not to be, and throughout the book she serves mostly as an enabling presence for our hero, cooing gentle assurances and saving his dopey ass whenever he screws up (i.e. half the book)

The remaining characters fit so blandly into established stereotypes that it becomes hard to write anything at all: barely anything about these faceless mannequins has stuck with me since reading the book. You have the wizened, world-weary mentor with a mysterious past; the cooky, eccentric witch who is much more than she appears; the malevolent sorcerer with little more characterization than "He's the evil one"; and the spunky rebel princess who, just to cover our bases, is also an elf.

(Actually, now that I think about it there is one character, Murtagh, who did leave a lasting impression on me: He has the dubious honour of being ONE OF THE LEAST COMPELLING CHARACTERS IN FICTION. Honestly: imagine Ron Weasley without the bungling charm; Watson without the assorted know-how. After he is unceremoniously dumped into the party's midst midway through the book he's just kind of... there. An Eragon light if you will. And given the tea-spoon depth of our protagonist you can see why this might not work out well. But I digress.)

I'd like to just write off the rest of the book as trash with the evidence presented and save us both the effort of continuing the review but that would be presumptuous: after all, good writing can salvage an awful story right?

Well to tell the truth CPs writing is really one of his weakest points: He opts for antiquated and "eloquent language" in lieu of snappy, fast-paced or well flowing dialogue. Now, keep in mind that this is by no means an invalid form of writing: this is how Tolkien wrote his books (what a coincidence) and many of my favorite authors have dabbled in it as well. but in order to pull it off you need to achieve a balance: The dialogue needs to maintain enough eloquence to maintain the feel of the book while also being fast-paced enough to keep the readers interest and advance the plot. If it ever feels like the story is taking a detour to indulge the writing then you're doing it wrong. CP either disregards or fails to grasp this by including so much unnecessary prose that it suffocates the reader and bogs down the action. 

Now, I'm not going to decry the entire work as trash: for all his flaws Christopher Paolini does grasp the mechanics of writing and there were times where I was genuinely entertained. The Dwarf stronghold was well realized (though the dwarves themselves were not) and the the Ra zaac, or however you spell it, were interesting (though underused) antagonists. 

The thing is, I would be more forgiving if Paolini grasped these flaws in his writing and tried to improve, or at least acknowledge, them. But, as I pointed out at the beginning of the review, he falls into the diabolical author-trap of his self-inflated ego. 

Chris Paolini's ego is a monstrous, hideous thing. He has compared himself to Tolkien. He has either made up or stolen words form old english and claimed to have invented a language. To hear him tell it he's Aesop, Shakespeare, Byron and Fitzgerald all in one. Self importance like this is a bane to creators: They become content in basking in the praise of fans and sycophants, neglecting to improve or innovate.

Eragon is, in summary, completely mediocre. Now that the author has entered adulthood and his novelty has worn away, all that is left is a completely average and unremarkable tale that we've been told before, and told more ably at that. It's not necessarily bad: if you're looking for a mindless fantasy romp with safe and unchallenging writing you could probably do worse. But  recognize what the book represents: A spark of possibility ultimately destroyed by creative homogeny and damned by false praise.

The Walrus 

Things I can see from here

Dead, sad robot eyes.

The desecrated memory of possible poet.

The world in a box.

Impotent, inexplicable anger.

A forum outside time.

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