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Empires of Dust #1
The Court of Broken Knives
They’ve finally looked at the graveyard of our Empire with open eyes. They’re fools and madmen and like the art of war. And their children go hungry while we piss gold and jewels into the dust.
In the richest empire the world has ever known, the city of Sorlost has always stood, eternal and unconquered. But in a city of dreams governed by an imposturous Emperor, decadence has become the true ruler, and has blinded its inhabitants to their vulnerability. The empire is on the verge of invasion – and only one man can see it.
Haunted by dreams of the empire’s demise, Orhan Emmereth has decided to act. On his orders, a company of soldiers cross the desert to reach the city. Once they enter the Palace, they have one mission: kill the Emperor, then all those who remain. Only from ashes can a new empire be built.
The company is a group of good, ordinary soldiers, for whom this is a mission like any other. But the strange boy Marith who walks among them is no ordinary soldier. Marching on Sorlost, Marith thinks he is running away from the past which haunts him. But in the Golden City, his destiny awaits him – beautiful, bloody, and more terrible than anyone could have foreseen.
In the richest empire the world has ever known, the city of Sorlost has always stood, eternal and unconquered. But in a city of dreams governed by an imposturous Emperor, decadence has become the true ruler, and has blinded its inhabitants to their vulnerability. The empire is on the verge of invasion – and only one man can see it.
Haunted by dreams of the empire’s demise, Orhan Emmereth has decided to act. On his orders, a company of soldiers cross the desert to reach the city. Once they enter the Palace, they have one mission: kill the Emperor, then all those who remain. Only from ashes can a new empire be built.
The company is a group of good, ordinary soldiers, for whom this is a mission like any other. But the strange boy Marith who walks among them is no ordinary soldier. Marching on Sorlost, Marith thinks he is running away from the past which haunts him. But in the Golden City, his destiny awaits him – beautiful, bloody, and more terrible than anyone could have foreseen.
470 pages, Hardcover
First published June 27, 2017
About the author
Anna Smith Spark
24 books844 followers'Game of Literary Thrones ... the next generation hit fantasy fiction' The Sunday Times
Anna Smith Spark lives in London, UK. She loves grimdark and epic fantasy and historical military fiction. Anna has a BA in Classics, an MA in history and a PhD in English Literature. She has previously been published in the Fortean Times and the poetry website www.greatworks.org.uk. Previous jobs include petty bureaucrat, English teacher and fetish model.
Anna's favourite authors and key influences are R. Scott Bakker, Steve Erikson, M. John Harrison, Ursula Le Guin, Mary Stewart and Mary Renault. She spent several years as an obsessive D&D player. She can often be spotted at sff conventions wearing very unusual shoes.
Anna Smith Spark lives in London, UK. She loves grimdark and epic fantasy and historical military fiction. Anna has a BA in Classics, an MA in history and a PhD in English Literature. She has previously been published in the Fortean Times and the poetry website www.greatworks.org.uk. Previous jobs include petty bureaucrat, English teacher and fetish model.
Anna's favourite authors and key influences are R. Scott Bakker, Steve Erikson, M. John Harrison, Ursula Le Guin, Mary Stewart and Mary Renault. She spent several years as an obsessive D&D player. She can often be spotted at sff conventions wearing very unusual shoes.
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October 16, 2023I’ve read 1* reviews of this book and I’ve read 5* reviews, and I can see where both of them are coming from, though I definitely lean in the direction of the latter rating.
This is a long review so here is the TL:DR for the impatient among you:
This is a very well written book – by which I mean that the writing is excellent. Ironically that writing may well be a barrier between many readers and enjoying it.
This is an interesting book – by which I mean it evokes interesting questions of a literary nature. It is not a book with a well-engineered plot where everything comes together in the end with an almighty bang a la Sanderson.
This is a grim book - Nasty stuff happens to innocent people. The level of detail is often small in these instances but the quality of the writing makes you cringe at them even so.
This is a book I advise you try – I don’t know if you will like it but it’s a bold experiment and feels like something new.
To the review!
The most popular 1* review of this book says:
The writing in this book is killing me already. For example: "Big as a cart horse. Deep fetid marsh rot snot shit filth green." & "Imagine saying that to Gulius's family: he was killed fighting a dragon. He was killed fighting a dragon. A dragon killed him. A dragon."
I understand the reaction but disagree with the implication that the writing is not good. I think the writing is excellent, but it is certainly not the sort of writing that fantasy fans are used to. This is a book written in a refreshingly literary style more familiar to the readers of literary fiction. There is a strong voice to the prose, which I liked a lot. I needed my word-brain exercised after the last couple of books I dipped into and abandoned where the words fell dead on the page.
However, many fantasy readers will not like the change. This is in no way to suggest that they lack the intelligence or sophistication to appreciate the work … just that it will not be what they were expecting.
As a case in point, consider one of the offending lines from above. “He was killed fighting a dragon. He was killed fighting a dragon. A dragon killed him. A dragon.” Writers are schooled against repetition and redundancy. But everyday conversation is full of these things, especially when we are wrestling with a concept. Dialogue in fantasy books is generally a stand-in for genuine conversation. Playwrights do not write dialogue like fantasy writers do since they need the audience seeing the person speaking the lines to believe in them, there and then, in the moment. Some of the dialogue in TCoBK follows this style.
The book moves from first person to third, from present tense to past tense, takes an omniscient point of view at times, and varies these things for a given character. The effect can be quite dramatic and powerful, but also may unsettle a reader.
Fantasy writing is generally all about the story, specifically: all about the plot. Many readers want prose that draws no attention to itself whatsoever. A line that makes a reader sit up and notice is, by some lights, taking the reader out of the story. The prose, some say, is a plot delivery mechanism. This can work very well. I really enjoyed the Brandon Sanderson book I read. The writing delivered plot and I didn’t notice it. You will notice the writing in this book.
"The moon was vast in the sky, the stars broken silver."
I've not found eminently quotable lines so much as a constant stream of elegant, poetic lines that do their job. The linguistic skill is aimed mostly at description rather than at aphorisms. The effect is cumulative over a page rather than shining from one line.
Speaking of plot: this is a chaotic book where it is very hard to predict what will happen next and where. I never had a sense of overarching plot. It is more a series of things that happened, though focusing down on two characters and their journey toward an uncertain destiny. This is not a bad thing, unless you really need a plot.
The next thing that fantasy readers tend to like are characters. If they aren’t all about plot then readers tend to be all about character. I’ve had my own struggle to convince readers to get on board with books about characters who are merely interesting rather than good/heroic/moral. I do though, I hope, throw the readers a bone by making them charismatic and/or funny to compensate in some way their despicable elements.
TCoBK goes a step further and presents us with characters who are generally horrible in almost every aspect and lack even humour or charisma to hang onto. The main character in particular is very hard to like and whilst there are interesting things about him I never felt emotionally engaged with his plight, or indeed that of any character in the book.
The pacing has been mentioned, and it can be erratic. Toward the end there are several longish contemplations of the countryside, and the description there is just excellent, really beautiful. But pacing-wise … not so sure it was the best place for it. Description throughout the book is a strength though.
Grimness. This book is pretty grim, not so much for the gory detail but for the things that are done, the way they are done, and who does them. Babies are killed, children drowned, young women mutilated, innocents burned, murder abounds, kindness is in short supply.
Despite the level and quality of description I would say the book is physically shallow and thematically deep. The cities and wilds are described wonderfully but with the characters it never feels as if we are physically deep in them. Several of them get burned, beyond a mention of it aching the issue is pushed aside. Injuries and mind-wrecking hangovers get similar short thrift. Being exposed to a cold wind for the first time, snow, having sex for the first time, all similarly relegated to the background in favour of more existential angst (not said in a mocking way - I like existential angst and suffer from it myself).
However, it is still, to me, an interesting book. It feels as though there are themes being addressed here. I’m not going to (or qualified to) lay out a full literary analysis, but it’s the kind of book that warrants one. There is an oft-repeated focus on the dichotomy between disgust and desire. And a focus, paralleled by drug addiction, on the self-destructive and doom-laden impulse of youth. A focus on the most physically beautiful people doing the most repulsive things. A focus on the desire to be led battling the desire to be free, and how that leader can be a person or simple fatalism.
An interesting book to read and fascinating to discuss afterwards! I think you should read it and form an opinion for yourself.
Oh, oh! And I learned two new words! Loggia and caravanserai.
Join my Patreon
Join my 3-emails-a-year mailing list #prizes
..
This is a long review so here is the TL:DR for the impatient among you:
This is a very well written book – by which I mean that the writing is excellent. Ironically that writing may well be a barrier between many readers and enjoying it.
This is an interesting book – by which I mean it evokes interesting questions of a literary nature. It is not a book with a well-engineered plot where everything comes together in the end with an almighty bang a la Sanderson.
This is a grim book - Nasty stuff happens to innocent people. The level of detail is often small in these instances but the quality of the writing makes you cringe at them even so.
This is a book I advise you try – I don’t know if you will like it but it’s a bold experiment and feels like something new.
To the review!
The most popular 1* review of this book says:
The writing in this book is killing me already. For example: "Big as a cart horse. Deep fetid marsh rot snot shit filth green." & "Imagine saying that to Gulius's family: he was killed fighting a dragon. He was killed fighting a dragon. A dragon killed him. A dragon."
I understand the reaction but disagree with the implication that the writing is not good. I think the writing is excellent, but it is certainly not the sort of writing that fantasy fans are used to. This is a book written in a refreshingly literary style more familiar to the readers of literary fiction. There is a strong voice to the prose, which I liked a lot. I needed my word-brain exercised after the last couple of books I dipped into and abandoned where the words fell dead on the page.
However, many fantasy readers will not like the change. This is in no way to suggest that they lack the intelligence or sophistication to appreciate the work … just that it will not be what they were expecting.
As a case in point, consider one of the offending lines from above. “He was killed fighting a dragon. He was killed fighting a dragon. A dragon killed him. A dragon.” Writers are schooled against repetition and redundancy. But everyday conversation is full of these things, especially when we are wrestling with a concept. Dialogue in fantasy books is generally a stand-in for genuine conversation. Playwrights do not write dialogue like fantasy writers do since they need the audience seeing the person speaking the lines to believe in them, there and then, in the moment. Some of the dialogue in TCoBK follows this style.
The book moves from first person to third, from present tense to past tense, takes an omniscient point of view at times, and varies these things for a given character. The effect can be quite dramatic and powerful, but also may unsettle a reader.
Fantasy writing is generally all about the story, specifically: all about the plot. Many readers want prose that draws no attention to itself whatsoever. A line that makes a reader sit up and notice is, by some lights, taking the reader out of the story. The prose, some say, is a plot delivery mechanism. This can work very well. I really enjoyed the Brandon Sanderson book I read. The writing delivered plot and I didn’t notice it. You will notice the writing in this book.
"The moon was vast in the sky, the stars broken silver."
I've not found eminently quotable lines so much as a constant stream of elegant, poetic lines that do their job. The linguistic skill is aimed mostly at description rather than at aphorisms. The effect is cumulative over a page rather than shining from one line.
Speaking of plot: this is a chaotic book where it is very hard to predict what will happen next and where. I never had a sense of overarching plot. It is more a series of things that happened, though focusing down on two characters and their journey toward an uncertain destiny. This is not a bad thing, unless you really need a plot.
The next thing that fantasy readers tend to like are characters. If they aren’t all about plot then readers tend to be all about character. I’ve had my own struggle to convince readers to get on board with books about characters who are merely interesting rather than good/heroic/moral. I do though, I hope, throw the readers a bone by making them charismatic and/or funny to compensate in some way their despicable elements.
TCoBK goes a step further and presents us with characters who are generally horrible in almost every aspect and lack even humour or charisma to hang onto. The main character in particular is very hard to like and whilst there are interesting things about him I never felt emotionally engaged with his plight, or indeed that of any character in the book.
The pacing has been mentioned, and it can be erratic. Toward the end there are several longish contemplations of the countryside, and the description there is just excellent, really beautiful. But pacing-wise … not so sure it was the best place for it. Description throughout the book is a strength though.
Grimness. This book is pretty grim, not so much for the gory detail but for the things that are done, the way they are done, and who does them. Babies are killed, children drowned, young women mutilated, innocents burned, murder abounds, kindness is in short supply.
Despite the level and quality of description I would say the book is physically shallow and thematically deep. The cities and wilds are described wonderfully but with the characters it never feels as if we are physically deep in them. Several of them get burned, beyond a mention of it aching the issue is pushed aside. Injuries and mind-wrecking hangovers get similar short thrift. Being exposed to a cold wind for the first time, snow, having sex for the first time, all similarly relegated to the background in favour of more existential angst (not said in a mocking way - I like existential angst and suffer from it myself).
However, it is still, to me, an interesting book. It feels as though there are themes being addressed here. I’m not going to (or qualified to) lay out a full literary analysis, but it’s the kind of book that warrants one. There is an oft-repeated focus on the dichotomy between disgust and desire. And a focus, paralleled by drug addiction, on the self-destructive and doom-laden impulse of youth. A focus on the most physically beautiful people doing the most repulsive things. A focus on the desire to be led battling the desire to be free, and how that leader can be a person or simple fatalism.
An interesting book to read and fascinating to discuss afterwards! I think you should read it and form an opinion for yourself.
Oh, oh! And I learned two new words! Loggia and caravanserai.
Join my Patreon
Join my 3-emails-a-year mailing list #prizes
..
January 14, 2018
4.5-stars
"Not sure I really feel like fucking someone who's part god and part suicidal drunk, you know"
I received an advanced copy of The Court of Broken Knives via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. I would like to thank Anna Smith Spark and Harper Voyager.
2017 has been a stunning year for adult fantasy debuts and the trend absolutely continues with The Court of Broken Knives (book one of Empires of Dust) which will surely become a grimdark classic. The beginning sees readers following a crew of mercenaries as they approach Sorlost, the empire's richest and arguably, most important City to complete a mission that could change the world.
I loved the manner in which the writing is surprisingly poetic throughout the tale, aiding to create beautiful prose. The novel includes grimdark fans favourite elements such as betrayal, battles, brutal deaths, characters who are bastards that I loved to hate, Gods with strange motives, and dragons! If anything, many of the gory scenes hit harder because of how stunningly pretty some of the writing is. The narrative sometimes has as infectious, trance-like flow that I thought was excellent. In addition, occasionally the action is so fast and intense that my eyes weren't able to keep up with the reading pace that my brain wished to employ which left me feeling utterly breathless.
To begin with, this story reminded me of C.F. Iggulden's Darien with the political unrest and potential overthrowing of an Emperor and like Iggulden's story, I thought The Court Of Broken Knives would all take place in one impressive and giant City. I was incorrect. We explore what I imagine is a vast and diverse amount of this world, seeing different races, mythological creatures and expansive settings. The history and religions seem expertly created. The map presented within the book looks gorgeous too (although I couldn't zoom in on my advanced e-version.) Great cartography by the artist and a well-crafted world by Anna.
There are four main characters that readers follow, and I won't say too much about them as they are the main drawing point for grimdark classics, but they don't disappoint. The four major individuals are a mercenary captain, a new recruit, a priestess and a politician. I really liked three out of the four characters. Although they all have merits, I didn't like reading about one of them as much. They are all presented in the third person perspective sometimes switching between multiple characters views smoothly in the same chapter. A few, what seem like short interludes, have one of these four characters occasionally speaking in the first person. Slightly confusing but I have faith that this is a device that has been utilised for a reason. We are also presented a few mysterious interludes featuring a dark-haired boy and a light-haired boy and these were really engaging.
Like some epic fantasy, the peculiar names given to characters and places can be confusing so I hope the finished book includes a dramatis personae. It wasn't much of an issue but is worth pointing out that and in addition, if you don't read the book for a few days you might find yourself slightly lost and have to re-skim previous chapters. These aren't really negatives and if anything they are familiar issues with the highest calibre fantasy releases. The more effort you put in the greater the affinity with the ensemble and their final outcomes. The ending of this book is fantastic and if I am reading it right, a potential action could go one of two very diverse ways. Whatever the outcome is, I will 100% own book #2 as soon as I can. Anna and this world have so much to offer. Although the story is self-contained it leaves more questions, intrigue and loose threads than the majority of debut books this length. I guess that just means I will think about it more which can't be a bad thing.
This book truly is grimdark of the highest order with one of the most complex, beautiful and destructive characters ever written. Queen of Grimdark is a pseudonym well earned. If you mixed beauty, darkness, complexity, death and poetry then you would have something that is a lot like Smith Spark's debut.
"Not sure I really feel like fucking someone who's part god and part suicidal drunk, you know"
I received an advanced copy of The Court of Broken Knives via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. I would like to thank Anna Smith Spark and Harper Voyager.
2017 has been a stunning year for adult fantasy debuts and the trend absolutely continues with The Court of Broken Knives (book one of Empires of Dust) which will surely become a grimdark classic. The beginning sees readers following a crew of mercenaries as they approach Sorlost, the empire's richest and arguably, most important City to complete a mission that could change the world.
I loved the manner in which the writing is surprisingly poetic throughout the tale, aiding to create beautiful prose. The novel includes grimdark fans favourite elements such as betrayal, battles, brutal deaths, characters who are bastards that I loved to hate, Gods with strange motives, and dragons! If anything, many of the gory scenes hit harder because of how stunningly pretty some of the writing is. The narrative sometimes has as infectious, trance-like flow that I thought was excellent. In addition, occasionally the action is so fast and intense that my eyes weren't able to keep up with the reading pace that my brain wished to employ which left me feeling utterly breathless.
To begin with, this story reminded me of C.F. Iggulden's Darien with the political unrest and potential overthrowing of an Emperor and like Iggulden's story, I thought The Court Of Broken Knives would all take place in one impressive and giant City. I was incorrect. We explore what I imagine is a vast and diverse amount of this world, seeing different races, mythological creatures and expansive settings. The history and religions seem expertly created. The map presented within the book looks gorgeous too (although I couldn't zoom in on my advanced e-version.) Great cartography by the artist and a well-crafted world by Anna.
There are four main characters that readers follow, and I won't say too much about them as they are the main drawing point for grimdark classics, but they don't disappoint. The four major individuals are a mercenary captain, a new recruit, a priestess and a politician. I really liked three out of the four characters. Although they all have merits, I didn't like reading about one of them as much. They are all presented in the third person perspective sometimes switching between multiple characters views smoothly in the same chapter. A few, what seem like short interludes, have one of these four characters occasionally speaking in the first person. Slightly confusing but I have faith that this is a device that has been utilised for a reason. We are also presented a few mysterious interludes featuring a dark-haired boy and a light-haired boy and these were really engaging.
Like some epic fantasy, the peculiar names given to characters and places can be confusing so I hope the finished book includes a dramatis personae. It wasn't much of an issue but is worth pointing out that and in addition, if you don't read the book for a few days you might find yourself slightly lost and have to re-skim previous chapters. These aren't really negatives and if anything they are familiar issues with the highest calibre fantasy releases. The more effort you put in the greater the affinity with the ensemble and their final outcomes. The ending of this book is fantastic and if I am reading it right, a potential action could go one of two very diverse ways. Whatever the outcome is, I will 100% own book #2 as soon as I can. Anna and this world have so much to offer. Although the story is self-contained it leaves more questions, intrigue and loose threads than the majority of debut books this length. I guess that just means I will think about it more which can't be a bad thing.
This book truly is grimdark of the highest order with one of the most complex, beautiful and destructive characters ever written. Queen of Grimdark is a pseudonym well earned. If you mixed beauty, darkness, complexity, death and poetry then you would have something that is a lot like Smith Spark's debut.
November 14, 2018
Impossible to tell who's who any more. Mud and blood and shadows and that's it. Kill them! Kill them all! Keep killing until we're all dead. The knife jabs and twists and the man he's fighting falls sideways, all the breath going out of him with a sigh of relief. Another there behind. Gods, his arm aches. His head aches. Blood in his eyes. He twists the knife again and thrusts with a broken-off sword and that man too dies. Fire explodes somewhere over to the left. White as maggots. Silent as maggots. Then shrieks as men burn.
Total grimdark, we got some awesome grimdark women writers out there people! I look forward to the next book.
I have no words. My friends Stefan and James said my thoughts perfectly as they write some of the best reviews!
Happy Reading!
Mel 🖤🐶🐺🐾
May 6, 2020
This is an exhilarating piece of grimdark fiction. It tells the story of a plague on one man’s mind. It’s raw, visceral and taps into the darkest places fantasy can go. GIVE. ME. MORE.
I found the characterisation quite unique. Normally when writers create characters, they try to make them interesting and compelling and conflicted. They will tell you all that’s intriguing about them within the first few pages because they want you to carry on reading. Anna Smith Spark doesn’t do this. She introduces her reader to a rather nondescript boy who seems to be harnessing some hidden potential. Nothing remarkable here but as time goes on, she slowly reveals how fucked up and dangerous he is.
And he is bad, very bad indeed because he is pretending to be someone else. He is pretending to be a normal solider when he is something else entirely. He is harnessing a dark rage fuelled power. But why keep it secret? This question really kept me reading. Slaying a dragon as casually as you might pick a dead bug off your boot is a dead giveaway. Marith was clearly more than he was willing to let on. Being sent into a murderous rampage because someone looks at him wrong in the street is another. He proves himself to be ridiculously adept at killing. He was born to do it. Reigning death and terror are all he knows.
Complex characters are something all reviewers like to talk about, but this is a seriously complex character. In this rich character driven fantasy, Marith’s darkness takes centre stage. He is capable of almost anything, though he is hindered by his drug use, alcoholism, several mental disorders and his unbridled urge to kill indiscriminately. He is a murderer, a daemon, and he can’t stop himself from sinking his blade into someone’s, anyone’s, flesh. And the more he tries to stop himself the more unhinged he becomes; it’s like killing gives him a sweet release, an action that allows him to be his true self.
The prose is a unique blend of poetry and butchery. Now doesn’t that sound kind of cool? Imagine poetical prose about violence and blood and you’d be close to what Anna Smith Spark is doing here. Imagine a poet writing about the grim realities of killing a man and you’d be a little bit closer. The point is, the prose is of the highest quality within the genre. And she wields it to tell the story of a man who is ready to claim his destiny, his birthright, his throne.
On the way he meets a woman, a killer not too unlike himself and what develops is a dark romance between two maniacal psychopaths. And I loved their passion for each other, each using, and needing, the other to reconcile themselves with their own darkness. In the eyes of pure abject evil, they both see light. And I would like to say that it redeems them, but it doesn’t: it makes them stronger instead, more willing to kill for the other. I’m very curious to see where this goes through the series.
So this is a very solid entry from an exciting new author, I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the trilogy.
_________________________________
You can connect with me on social media via My Linktree.
__________________________________
I found the characterisation quite unique. Normally when writers create characters, they try to make them interesting and compelling and conflicted. They will tell you all that’s intriguing about them within the first few pages because they want you to carry on reading. Anna Smith Spark doesn’t do this. She introduces her reader to a rather nondescript boy who seems to be harnessing some hidden potential. Nothing remarkable here but as time goes on, she slowly reveals how fucked up and dangerous he is.
And he is bad, very bad indeed because he is pretending to be someone else. He is pretending to be a normal solider when he is something else entirely. He is harnessing a dark rage fuelled power. But why keep it secret? This question really kept me reading. Slaying a dragon as casually as you might pick a dead bug off your boot is a dead giveaway. Marith was clearly more than he was willing to let on. Being sent into a murderous rampage because someone looks at him wrong in the street is another. He proves himself to be ridiculously adept at killing. He was born to do it. Reigning death and terror are all he knows.
Complex characters are something all reviewers like to talk about, but this is a seriously complex character. In this rich character driven fantasy, Marith’s darkness takes centre stage. He is capable of almost anything, though he is hindered by his drug use, alcoholism, several mental disorders and his unbridled urge to kill indiscriminately. He is a murderer, a daemon, and he can’t stop himself from sinking his blade into someone’s, anyone’s, flesh. And the more he tries to stop himself the more unhinged he becomes; it’s like killing gives him a sweet release, an action that allows him to be his true self.
The prose is a unique blend of poetry and butchery. Now doesn’t that sound kind of cool? Imagine poetical prose about violence and blood and you’d be close to what Anna Smith Spark is doing here. Imagine a poet writing about the grim realities of killing a man and you’d be a little bit closer. The point is, the prose is of the highest quality within the genre. And she wields it to tell the story of a man who is ready to claim his destiny, his birthright, his throne.
On the way he meets a woman, a killer not too unlike himself and what develops is a dark romance between two maniacal psychopaths. And I loved their passion for each other, each using, and needing, the other to reconcile themselves with their own darkness. In the eyes of pure abject evil, they both see light. And I would like to say that it redeems them, but it doesn’t: it makes them stronger instead, more willing to kill for the other. I’m very curious to see where this goes through the series.
So this is a very solid entry from an exciting new author, I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the trilogy.
_________________________________
You can connect with me on social media via My Linktree.
__________________________________
August 26, 2024
My complete review is published at Before We Go Blog.
“New boy Marith. Staring at the dragon like a man stares at his own death.”
The Court of Broken Knives established Anna Smith Spark as the Queen of Grimdark, and for good reason. This is grimdark fantasy of the highest caliber, with four complex lead characters in a bleak and cruel world.
Tobias is a grizzled mercenary fighter leading his crew across the desert toward the legendary city of Sorlost, capital of the greatest empire the world has ever seen. Marith is a charismatic but dangerous new recruit in Tobias’s company, with plenty of secrets in his troubled past. Meanwhile in Sorlost, the nobleman Orhan is scheming to overthrow the Emperor and install himself as ruler, and the high priestess Thalia seeks escape from her life of isolation.
While there is plenty of gray morality represented in each of the four lead protagonists, I especially love seeing how Anna Smith Spark sows the seeds of darkness in Marith, who is well aware of the evil lurking inside himself:
“Marith twisted in her arms. Don’t pray for me. Don’t you dare pray for me. Don’t you know what I am, by now? Things screamed in the distance. Shadows crawling in his eyes and in his skin. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill us all. But she held him and murmured her prayers in a voice like candle flames.”
Thalia’s character development is another highlight of the book. While most of The Court of Broken Knives is told using third-person narration, the story switches to first-person for Thalia, giving extra emotional impact to each of her point-of-view chapters.
Anna Smith Spark’s sparse but elegant writing style is the perfect vehicle for delivering this grimdark tale, with many darkly poetic moments throughout. The brutal, indiscriminate killing of ordinary soldiers is repugnant, yet some characters find a sick beauty in all the slaughter. Smith Spark doesn’t hold back with her descriptions of the carnage and the extreme emotions that bounce between horror and sick delight. The rhythm and tonality of her prose is always the perfect match for each of the scenes in the novel.
Anna Smith Spark has a cinematic way of describing her settings. The imagery of sand is a particularly powerful one in this desert environment. While someone can build a magnificent sandcastle, full of detail and wonder, it doesn’t take much for the wind to erode it all away, leaving no trace of its former glory. The same may be true for Sorlost, the formerly decadent capital of an empire on the decline:
“This is Sorlost, the eternal, the Golden City. The most beautiful, the first, the last. The undying. The unconquered. The unconquerable. The mummified heart of an empire of dust and desert villages, half forgotten by half the world.”
In hindsight, I’d argue that Anna Smith Spark effectively defined a new subgenre of literary grimdark fantasy with her 2017 publication of The Court of Broken Knives, which she has continued to pursue and refine in her more recent work.
Anna Smith Spark finds beauty in decay through her lyrical writing: The Court of Broken Knives is simultaneously brutal and exquisite, absolutely a must-read for grimdark fans and anyone who appreciates complex, character-driven fantasy. The Empires of Dust trilogy continues with Book Two, The Tower of Living and Dying.
“New boy Marith. Staring at the dragon like a man stares at his own death.”
The Court of Broken Knives established Anna Smith Spark as the Queen of Grimdark, and for good reason. This is grimdark fantasy of the highest caliber, with four complex lead characters in a bleak and cruel world.
Tobias is a grizzled mercenary fighter leading his crew across the desert toward the legendary city of Sorlost, capital of the greatest empire the world has ever seen. Marith is a charismatic but dangerous new recruit in Tobias’s company, with plenty of secrets in his troubled past. Meanwhile in Sorlost, the nobleman Orhan is scheming to overthrow the Emperor and install himself as ruler, and the high priestess Thalia seeks escape from her life of isolation.
While there is plenty of gray morality represented in each of the four lead protagonists, I especially love seeing how Anna Smith Spark sows the seeds of darkness in Marith, who is well aware of the evil lurking inside himself:
“Marith twisted in her arms. Don’t pray for me. Don’t you dare pray for me. Don’t you know what I am, by now? Things screamed in the distance. Shadows crawling in his eyes and in his skin. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill us all. But she held him and murmured her prayers in a voice like candle flames.”
Thalia’s character development is another highlight of the book. While most of The Court of Broken Knives is told using third-person narration, the story switches to first-person for Thalia, giving extra emotional impact to each of her point-of-view chapters.
Anna Smith Spark’s sparse but elegant writing style is the perfect vehicle for delivering this grimdark tale, with many darkly poetic moments throughout. The brutal, indiscriminate killing of ordinary soldiers is repugnant, yet some characters find a sick beauty in all the slaughter. Smith Spark doesn’t hold back with her descriptions of the carnage and the extreme emotions that bounce between horror and sick delight. The rhythm and tonality of her prose is always the perfect match for each of the scenes in the novel.
Anna Smith Spark has a cinematic way of describing her settings. The imagery of sand is a particularly powerful one in this desert environment. While someone can build a magnificent sandcastle, full of detail and wonder, it doesn’t take much for the wind to erode it all away, leaving no trace of its former glory. The same may be true for Sorlost, the formerly decadent capital of an empire on the decline:
“This is Sorlost, the eternal, the Golden City. The most beautiful, the first, the last. The undying. The unconquered. The unconquerable. The mummified heart of an empire of dust and desert villages, half forgotten by half the world.”
In hindsight, I’d argue that Anna Smith Spark effectively defined a new subgenre of literary grimdark fantasy with her 2017 publication of The Court of Broken Knives, which she has continued to pursue and refine in her more recent work.
Anna Smith Spark finds beauty in decay through her lyrical writing: The Court of Broken Knives is simultaneously brutal and exquisite, absolutely a must-read for grimdark fans and anyone who appreciates complex, character-driven fantasy. The Empires of Dust trilogy continues with Book Two, The Tower of Living and Dying.
February 6, 2019
Originally reviewed at Bookwraiths.
My rating is 2.5 stars.
The Court of Broken Knives is a novel which has taken me on a long journey. Not only alongside the characters which Anna Smith Spark has created, though that is true, but also my own journey of self-discovery, as I’ve found myself on a quest to reconsider my reading preferences, modify my bookish desires. This causing my review to take months to finish, as I returned time and again to the book to do lengthy rereads, attempting to focus my mind, come to grips with the conflicting emotions which this novel had produced within me.
To be fair, when I finished The Court of Broken Knives back in November of 2017 I viewed it as yet another in a growing line of great grimdark, one I enjoyed so much that my rating was a solid 4 stars and included a spot on my Best Reads of 2017!. Anna Smith Spark’s bringing her beautiful writing style to the genre, adding her elegant, lyrical, and unique voice to a genre previously known mainly for its dark, pessimistic, violent, and decidedly masculine outlook on life. But under my initial euphoria was a growing seed of discord, one I will explain further after we set the stage.
The Court of Broken Knives takes place mainly in the city of Sorlost in the Sekemleth Empire. This legendary rich and powerful metropolis mired in decadent decay, moving steadily toward ultimate destruction unless something occurs to halt the downward spiral. Rising to the challenge. Lord Orhan, a nobleman and important councilor of the Empire, formulates an elaborate coup to destroy the Emperor and most of the ruling elite, thereby allowing him and his co-conspirators to take control and guide the Empire back to its former power and glory.
One of the keys to Orhan’s plans is a group of foreign mercenaries who quickly infiltrate the city; their leader an older, experienced warrior by the name of Tobias. This guy is a practical, ordinary man who isn’t the most gifted merc but is determined, quick witted, and practical to a fault. Those he leads tending to follow along in the same vein as their commander; all except for young Marith, who begins as a rather mysterious sort and slowly evolves into a fairly murderous individual with a horrible habit, terrible secrets, and a dark destiny. Tobias’ plans complicated and jeopardized by having to deal with Marith’s growing issues while still attempting to be the Orhan’s weapon to mete out death among Sorlost’s elite.
Not initially caught up in these events, there is also Thalia, high priestess of the god of life and death. This god not for the faint of heart, requiring regular human sacrifices (preferably small children) which Thalia is forced to personally perform. The constant killing taking its toil on her mental state. What makes it even worse is that she knows her life will remain this way until a new high priestess arises and kills her, just like she did to her predecessor. This stress, depression, and apprehension causing Thalia to seek escape from her prison, even if that means tying herself to an even worse person/cause!
Without a doubt, all this sounds like grimdark fantasy at its best, and the classic staples of the genre are indeed present in abundant supply. There are dark, jaded characters everywhere. Plot twists abound. Byzantine scheming and political machinations rule the day. Dark humor, bloody action, unhealthy love, diabolical betrayal, and cringeworthy deceit are the norm. Hell, in Marith, we even have a tortured, psychopathic character who would give anyone from George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire nightmares and make Mark Lawrence’s Jorg Ancrath take pause. But therein also lies the seeds of my problem with The Court of Broken Knives: it is horribly, terribly, completely, extremely, unbearable dark and grim.
A weird criticism I realize, especially coming from me: the grimdark convert who became an adoring fan after reading such classics as Lawrence’s Prince of Thorns, Fletcher’s Beyond Redemption, Polansky’s Low Town, and Abercrombie’s The Blade Itself. Be that as it may, after months of reflection and numerous rereads of certain sections of the narrative, I finally came to the conclusion that what bothered me about this novel was the fact it had taken the grimdark genre to its ultimate apex, serving up a world and story so grim, so dark, and so damn depressing that even I couldn’t really appreciate it. Let me try to explain why I say that.
For me personally, I prefer my stories to have contrasting characters, dueling ideologies, competing champions to keep things fresh and exciting. If the darkness is too thick, too grim, too all encompassing, I get bored. I mean, if all my choices are basically the same, why do I care if a certain character lives or dies, triumphs or fails. I don’t. And in The Court of Broken Knives, I really felt like there was no one to hold onto while all the goodness in the world died a painful death. There was no hero or anti-hero to pull for until he/she is cast down. No villain who has noble motives even if his/her means are vile. Nope, here the darkness is unrelenting; the characters completely unsympathetic; and the plot a choice between what shade of black I would prefer.
The prime example of all this are the main four characters of the story. Let’s take a closer look at them, see the choices of black.
First, there is Lord Orhan; a man who initially appears to be a misguided idealist, someone who dreams of a change for the better. Sure, he is willing to kill lots and lots of people to get the change he believes is needed, but he only wants to restore his city, his nation to greatness. Brings to mind Hitler, but I can feel it. Once you get to know him though he is pretty far removed from any semblance of an idealist. Instead, Orhan is revealed as a dissatisfied man, married to a woman he does not love, yearning after a man he probably should not trust, living a total lie for reasons he doesn’t even totally believe in anymore, and hating the mantle of would be savior he has assumed. Totally depressing.
Then we have Tobias, who is probably the closest thing to a decent human in the whole sorry bunch. Problem being he is a glorified assassin, determined to kill people for gold. His conscious is locked up at home somewhere, and he is willing to deal with anyone necessary to get the job done. A good quality for a mercenary, necessary even, but one which doesn’t cause him to be terribly sympathetic. The fact he is hooked up with Marith merely makes his faults even more pronounced and off-putting.
Next up is the mysterious Marith. Some have described him as pitable, but I never saw him that way. Where Jorg Ancrath of Lawrence’s The Broken Empire had some slim explanation for his sociopathic leanings, Marith is a despicable being in the present, past, and on into the future from the look of things. I can concede he has personal issues from his past, haunting tragedies to bear around, and a terrible addiction to deal with, but none of it made me pity him in the least. He is a sociopathic nightmare, wrapping his loathsome actions inside pathetic excuses while gorging himself on more and more extreme doses of violence and killing in the name of an ancient god. Not sympathetic at all for me.
Lastly, there is the deeply scarred Thalia, whose role sacrificing children to a blood-thirsty god has left her mentally handicapped, extremely warped, and generally unprepared for the real world outside her blood soaked temple halls. Her choices in this narrative leaving me wondering if she has the smallest ounce of wisdom anywhere inside her body since she becomes fascinated by a man who promises to do nothing but take her down a road even more bloody than her previous one. A choice which still strikes me as odd considering her desire to flee her former life.
Hopefully, you can now see that these characters are all shades of black, not grey, certainly not white, but dark black. This consequentially means their individual stories are dark and grim, as you would expect from deeply flawed, horribly jaded, and near inhuman (at least in the case of one person) characters. And compounding this problem is that there are no characters of a different shade (grey or white) to add contrasting points of view to the plot, insert a bit of levity, or bring a bit of light to the curtain of darkness which shrouds everything. Without those “lighter” characters The Court of Broken Knives remains bleak, gloomy, and destructive from its opening page to its last, immersing a reader into the depths of total grimness.
It’s a gridmark. It’s suppose to be dark, gory, and depressing. Get over it already. I hear some of you mumbling.
True. It is very possible my criticism of this novel is merely my own personal foible come to light, showcasing my growing weariness of unrelenting grimdark. And, yes, I can acknowledge that perhaps at another time, another place in my reading journey, I might have been drawn into Anna Smith Spark’s tale of darkness, embraced it, and loved every moment of it. But right now, I’m not interested in that type of tale. Instead, The Court of Broken Knives depressed me, reinforced my growing feelings that I don’t want to visit a world this dark, this horrifyingly grim, inhabited by such deeply flawed people anymore in the near future. I really need some light to fight against the darkness, some optimism to dilute the pessimism, some good to struggle against the bad, a few decent people to make me care about the struggle I’m reading about.
That leads directly into why my rating went from 4 stars in November of 2017 to 2.5 stars in May 2, 2018. Simply put, I finally realized why I initially gave The Court of Broken Knives those 4 stars: Anna Smith Sparks writing style; her beautiful words and phrases nearly able to overcome the suffocating darkness of the story itself, wash away the bitter taste in my mouth, and convince me I adored this grimmest of grimdarks. But the truth, hard as it was for me to accept, is that I simply don’t love this novel, don’t have any particular fondness for any of these characters, and never was caught up in their stories. Certainly, it is an okay read, especially if you enjoy grimdark at its most extreme, but not much better than that, hence the 2.5 stars.
Does all this mean you shouldn’t read the book? I can’t answer that. It is all based on your reading preferences. Michael Fletcher, author of Beyond Redemption, has dubbed Anna Smith Spark ��the queen of grim dark fantasy”; a title which is well deserved and very accurate. And if you wish to immerse yourself in the complete darkness, cynical depression, and unswerving grimness, then this is a book which will not disappoint, because it truly is a grimdark for the ages. However, if like me, you are a bit tired of pervasive bleakness, amoral violence, and pessimistic nihilism, then this might not be for you. It is your choice.
I received this book from the author in exchange for a fair and honest review. I’d like to thank her for allowing me to receive this review copy and inform everyone that the review you have read is my opinion alone.
My rating is 2.5 stars.
The Court of Broken Knives is a novel which has taken me on a long journey. Not only alongside the characters which Anna Smith Spark has created, though that is true, but also my own journey of self-discovery, as I’ve found myself on a quest to reconsider my reading preferences, modify my bookish desires. This causing my review to take months to finish, as I returned time and again to the book to do lengthy rereads, attempting to focus my mind, come to grips with the conflicting emotions which this novel had produced within me.
To be fair, when I finished The Court of Broken Knives back in November of 2017 I viewed it as yet another in a growing line of great grimdark, one I enjoyed so much that my rating was a solid 4 stars and included a spot on my Best Reads of 2017!. Anna Smith Spark’s bringing her beautiful writing style to the genre, adding her elegant, lyrical, and unique voice to a genre previously known mainly for its dark, pessimistic, violent, and decidedly masculine outlook on life. But under my initial euphoria was a growing seed of discord, one I will explain further after we set the stage.
The Court of Broken Knives takes place mainly in the city of Sorlost in the Sekemleth Empire. This legendary rich and powerful metropolis mired in decadent decay, moving steadily toward ultimate destruction unless something occurs to halt the downward spiral. Rising to the challenge. Lord Orhan, a nobleman and important councilor of the Empire, formulates an elaborate coup to destroy the Emperor and most of the ruling elite, thereby allowing him and his co-conspirators to take control and guide the Empire back to its former power and glory.
One of the keys to Orhan’s plans is a group of foreign mercenaries who quickly infiltrate the city; their leader an older, experienced warrior by the name of Tobias. This guy is a practical, ordinary man who isn’t the most gifted merc but is determined, quick witted, and practical to a fault. Those he leads tending to follow along in the same vein as their commander; all except for young Marith, who begins as a rather mysterious sort and slowly evolves into a fairly murderous individual with a horrible habit, terrible secrets, and a dark destiny. Tobias’ plans complicated and jeopardized by having to deal with Marith’s growing issues while still attempting to be the Orhan’s weapon to mete out death among Sorlost’s elite.
Not initially caught up in these events, there is also Thalia, high priestess of the god of life and death. This god not for the faint of heart, requiring regular human sacrifices (preferably small children) which Thalia is forced to personally perform. The constant killing taking its toil on her mental state. What makes it even worse is that she knows her life will remain this way until a new high priestess arises and kills her, just like she did to her predecessor. This stress, depression, and apprehension causing Thalia to seek escape from her prison, even if that means tying herself to an even worse person/cause!
Without a doubt, all this sounds like grimdark fantasy at its best, and the classic staples of the genre are indeed present in abundant supply. There are dark, jaded characters everywhere. Plot twists abound. Byzantine scheming and political machinations rule the day. Dark humor, bloody action, unhealthy love, diabolical betrayal, and cringeworthy deceit are the norm. Hell, in Marith, we even have a tortured, psychopathic character who would give anyone from George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire nightmares and make Mark Lawrence’s Jorg Ancrath take pause. But therein also lies the seeds of my problem with The Court of Broken Knives: it is horribly, terribly, completely, extremely, unbearable dark and grim.
A weird criticism I realize, especially coming from me: the grimdark convert who became an adoring fan after reading such classics as Lawrence’s Prince of Thorns, Fletcher’s Beyond Redemption, Polansky’s Low Town, and Abercrombie’s The Blade Itself. Be that as it may, after months of reflection and numerous rereads of certain sections of the narrative, I finally came to the conclusion that what bothered me about this novel was the fact it had taken the grimdark genre to its ultimate apex, serving up a world and story so grim, so dark, and so damn depressing that even I couldn’t really appreciate it. Let me try to explain why I say that.
For me personally, I prefer my stories to have contrasting characters, dueling ideologies, competing champions to keep things fresh and exciting. If the darkness is too thick, too grim, too all encompassing, I get bored. I mean, if all my choices are basically the same, why do I care if a certain character lives or dies, triumphs or fails. I don’t. And in The Court of Broken Knives, I really felt like there was no one to hold onto while all the goodness in the world died a painful death. There was no hero or anti-hero to pull for until he/she is cast down. No villain who has noble motives even if his/her means are vile. Nope, here the darkness is unrelenting; the characters completely unsympathetic; and the plot a choice between what shade of black I would prefer.
The prime example of all this are the main four characters of the story. Let’s take a closer look at them, see the choices of black.
First, there is Lord Orhan; a man who initially appears to be a misguided idealist, someone who dreams of a change for the better. Sure, he is willing to kill lots and lots of people to get the change he believes is needed, but he only wants to restore his city, his nation to greatness. Brings to mind Hitler, but I can feel it. Once you get to know him though he is pretty far removed from any semblance of an idealist. Instead, Orhan is revealed as a dissatisfied man, married to a woman he does not love, yearning after a man he probably should not trust, living a total lie for reasons he doesn’t even totally believe in anymore, and hating the mantle of would be savior he has assumed. Totally depressing.
Then we have Tobias, who is probably the closest thing to a decent human in the whole sorry bunch. Problem being he is a glorified assassin, determined to kill people for gold. His conscious is locked up at home somewhere, and he is willing to deal with anyone necessary to get the job done. A good quality for a mercenary, necessary even, but one which doesn’t cause him to be terribly sympathetic. The fact he is hooked up with Marith merely makes his faults even more pronounced and off-putting.
Next up is the mysterious Marith. Some have described him as pitable, but I never saw him that way. Where Jorg Ancrath of Lawrence’s The Broken Empire had some slim explanation for his sociopathic leanings, Marith is a despicable being in the present, past, and on into the future from the look of things. I can concede he has personal issues from his past, haunting tragedies to bear around, and a terrible addiction to deal with, but none of it made me pity him in the least. He is a sociopathic nightmare, wrapping his loathsome actions inside pathetic excuses while gorging himself on more and more extreme doses of violence and killing in the name of an ancient god. Not sympathetic at all for me.
Lastly, there is the deeply scarred Thalia, whose role sacrificing children to a blood-thirsty god has left her mentally handicapped, extremely warped, and generally unprepared for the real world outside her blood soaked temple halls. Her choices in this narrative leaving me wondering if she has the smallest ounce of wisdom anywhere inside her body since she becomes fascinated by a man who promises to do nothing but take her down a road even more bloody than her previous one. A choice which still strikes me as odd considering her desire to flee her former life.
Hopefully, you can now see that these characters are all shades of black, not grey, certainly not white, but dark black. This consequentially means their individual stories are dark and grim, as you would expect from deeply flawed, horribly jaded, and near inhuman (at least in the case of one person) characters. And compounding this problem is that there are no characters of a different shade (grey or white) to add contrasting points of view to the plot, insert a bit of levity, or bring a bit of light to the curtain of darkness which shrouds everything. Without those “lighter” characters The Court of Broken Knives remains bleak, gloomy, and destructive from its opening page to its last, immersing a reader into the depths of total grimness.
It’s a gridmark. It’s suppose to be dark, gory, and depressing. Get over it already. I hear some of you mumbling.
True. It is very possible my criticism of this novel is merely my own personal foible come to light, showcasing my growing weariness of unrelenting grimdark. And, yes, I can acknowledge that perhaps at another time, another place in my reading journey, I might have been drawn into Anna Smith Spark’s tale of darkness, embraced it, and loved every moment of it. But right now, I’m not interested in that type of tale. Instead, The Court of Broken Knives depressed me, reinforced my growing feelings that I don’t want to visit a world this dark, this horrifyingly grim, inhabited by such deeply flawed people anymore in the near future. I really need some light to fight against the darkness, some optimism to dilute the pessimism, some good to struggle against the bad, a few decent people to make me care about the struggle I’m reading about.
That leads directly into why my rating went from 4 stars in November of 2017 to 2.5 stars in May 2, 2018. Simply put, I finally realized why I initially gave The Court of Broken Knives those 4 stars: Anna Smith Sparks writing style; her beautiful words and phrases nearly able to overcome the suffocating darkness of the story itself, wash away the bitter taste in my mouth, and convince me I adored this grimmest of grimdarks. But the truth, hard as it was for me to accept, is that I simply don’t love this novel, don’t have any particular fondness for any of these characters, and never was caught up in their stories. Certainly, it is an okay read, especially if you enjoy grimdark at its most extreme, but not much better than that, hence the 2.5 stars.
Does all this mean you shouldn’t read the book? I can’t answer that. It is all based on your reading preferences. Michael Fletcher, author of Beyond Redemption, has dubbed Anna Smith Spark ��the queen of grim dark fantasy”; a title which is well deserved and very accurate. And if you wish to immerse yourself in the complete darkness, cynical depression, and unswerving grimness, then this is a book which will not disappoint, because it truly is a grimdark for the ages. However, if like me, you are a bit tired of pervasive bleakness, amoral violence, and pessimistic nihilism, then this might not be for you. It is your choice.
I received this book from the author in exchange for a fair and honest review. I’d like to thank her for allowing me to receive this review copy and inform everyone that the review you have read is my opinion alone.
July 8, 2017
Five months and fifteen reads after Kings of the Wyld, I finally found another book that I wanted to savour every single page, reading it as slow as my schedule permitted.
The unconquered city of Sorlost is in decline for years. Once part of a grand and undefeated Empire, now it's nothing more than a city of uncaring Emperors and pity Bureaucrats. Orhan Emmereth, Lord of the Rising Sun, Dweller in the House of the East, the Emperor's True Counselor and Friend, decides to take the situation in hand, hiring a bunch of mercenaries called The Free Company of the Sword to kill the Emperor and every other noble, and bringing a definite change to the eternal city of Sorlost the Golden in the process. But among these good and ordinary mercenaries, there's a boy called Marith who's not ordinary at all. And when fate gets him to cross paths with Orhan, all hell comes loose to the Empire.
"Knives. Knives everywhere. Coming down like rain. Down to close work like that, men wrestling in the mud, jabbing at each other, too tired to care any more. Just die and get it over with. Half of them fighting with their guts hanging out of their stomachs, stinking of shit, oozing pink and red and white. Half-dead men lying in the filth. Screaming. A whole lot of things screaming."
Although The Court of Broken Knives is Anna Smith Spark's debut, and despite the fact that it was published just a couple of days ago, I've seen her called Queen of Grimdark for a good while. Reading TCoBK, I came to understand why - But before explaining the reason to you, let me give you a quick rundown of what Grimdark truly means.
Magic, demons and haunted souls. Violence, sexual violence and torture. Grim worlds and dreadful characters. All of these elements are frequently seen in grimdark books, but they don't define the genre. Grimdark means the lack of goodness, rightfulness and morality behind the motives of one's actions towards victory. The Fellowship of the Ring came out victorious against the forces of Sauron because they fought for the good side. Vin won against the evil Lord Ruler and the malevolent force called Ruin because she was pure of heart. Jorg of Ancrath won against his enemies because he was simply capable of doing so. And that's the true meaning of Grimdark.
Back to Anna and the reason she was hailed as Queen of Grimdark. Do I still have to explain the reason to you? I think not, you got it on your own. Anna captures every single aspect of what Grimdark means, and she does so with wit and excess talent.
The Court of Broken Knives isn't simply a true Grimdark book. It's a true, wonderful Grimdark book. From the well-developed and three-dimensional characters to the mesmerizing and ever-expanding world, from the mysterious and balanced magic system to the masterfully crafted and slowly unfolding plot, and from the solid and purposeful prose to the steady pace with a rising tempo, The Court of Broken Knives delivers on every front.
Have you ever felt like you were always late to join a fandom? Have you ever thought that all the talented authors you have ever discovered were already famous at the point you first heard about them? Well, now it's the time to make amends. Anna Smith Spark is one of the most talented fantasy authors to emerge in the last decade, and by buying and reading The Court of Broken Knives you will earn the right to say "Hey, I knew her from before!" in a couple years of time.
The unconquered city of Sorlost is in decline for years. Once part of a grand and undefeated Empire, now it's nothing more than a city of uncaring Emperors and pity Bureaucrats. Orhan Emmereth, Lord of the Rising Sun, Dweller in the House of the East, the Emperor's True Counselor and Friend, decides to take the situation in hand, hiring a bunch of mercenaries called The Free Company of the Sword to kill the Emperor and every other noble, and bringing a definite change to the eternal city of Sorlost the Golden in the process. But among these good and ordinary mercenaries, there's a boy called Marith who's not ordinary at all. And when fate gets him to cross paths with Orhan, all hell comes loose to the Empire.
"Knives. Knives everywhere. Coming down like rain. Down to close work like that, men wrestling in the mud, jabbing at each other, too tired to care any more. Just die and get it over with. Half of them fighting with their guts hanging out of their stomachs, stinking of shit, oozing pink and red and white. Half-dead men lying in the filth. Screaming. A whole lot of things screaming."
Although The Court of Broken Knives is Anna Smith Spark's debut, and despite the fact that it was published just a couple of days ago, I've seen her called Queen of Grimdark for a good while. Reading TCoBK, I came to understand why - But before explaining the reason to you, let me give you a quick rundown of what Grimdark truly means.
Magic, demons and haunted souls. Violence, sexual violence and torture. Grim worlds and dreadful characters. All of these elements are frequently seen in grimdark books, but they don't define the genre. Grimdark means the lack of goodness, rightfulness and morality behind the motives of one's actions towards victory. The Fellowship of the Ring came out victorious against the forces of Sauron because they fought for the good side. Vin won against the evil Lord Ruler and the malevolent force called Ruin because she was pure of heart. Jorg of Ancrath won against his enemies because he was simply capable of doing so. And that's the true meaning of Grimdark.
Back to Anna and the reason she was hailed as Queen of Grimdark. Do I still have to explain the reason to you? I think not, you got it on your own. Anna captures every single aspect of what Grimdark means, and she does so with wit and excess talent.
The Court of Broken Knives isn't simply a true Grimdark book. It's a true, wonderful Grimdark book. From the well-developed and three-dimensional characters to the mesmerizing and ever-expanding world, from the mysterious and balanced magic system to the masterfully crafted and slowly unfolding plot, and from the solid and purposeful prose to the steady pace with a rising tempo, The Court of Broken Knives delivers on every front.
Have you ever felt like you were always late to join a fandom? Have you ever thought that all the talented authors you have ever discovered were already famous at the point you first heard about them? Well, now it's the time to make amends. Anna Smith Spark is one of the most talented fantasy authors to emerge in the last decade, and by buying and reading The Court of Broken Knives you will earn the right to say "Hey, I knew her from before!" in a couple years of time.
July 31, 2017
DNF @ 10% but skimmed to 30%. Actual rating: .5 Stars.
I looked at the review page before buying this and all my friends who've read this gave it shining 5 star reviews. So i excitedly rush on over to the Kindle store, pay money for it, and start it. Well, this describes the experience better than I ever could.
I don't DNF books very often, so this is a serious event. I occasionally will stop reading a book I dislike and put it away to try later quite often. But DNF? Very rarely.
Put very simply, this book needs to go through a good editor. There are so many sentences that are so.freaking.repetitive. She'll state something. Say it again. Say it again but add another word. Say same thing again but change up the way she words the same statement. It gets old. The first 2 sentences were the best part of the 10% I read. I even skimmed to later parts in the book (another thing I never do) but it was still the same style of writing.
I'm so happy that others are getting such joy from this book, but it's not for me.
I looked at the review page before buying this and all my friends who've read this gave it shining 5 star reviews. So i excitedly rush on over to the Kindle store, pay money for it, and start it. Well, this describes the experience better than I ever could.
I don't DNF books very often, so this is a serious event. I occasionally will stop reading a book I dislike and put it away to try later quite often. But DNF? Very rarely.
Put very simply, this book needs to go through a good editor. There are so many sentences that are so.freaking.repetitive. She'll state something. Say it again. Say it again but add another word. Say same thing again but change up the way she words the same statement. It gets old. The first 2 sentences were the best part of the 10% I read. I even skimmed to later parts in the book (another thing I never do) but it was still the same style of writing.
I'm so happy that others are getting such joy from this book, but it's not for me.
May 3, 2020
I am soon to be delving back into the world of the Empires of Dust, to read book #2 of the trilogy, The Tower of Living and Dying. To prepare for it here is my review for book #1, The Court of Broken Knives, a great debut with a fascinating style.
Check out my review for this fantastic book on Booknest at: Booknest
“A wise man who's ignored is about as effective as an idiot who's listened to.”
The Court of Broken Knives. The best way for me to describe this book is as a uniquely fascinating and entirely unpredictable read. As you will discover from reading the first page, Anna Smith Spark has a captivating and intriguing writing style, a poetic prose with simplicity at its core. I loved the prose. I can’t explain it or describe it well enough to do it justice, just very different to many if not all other books I have read.
This is undoubtedly a ‘Grimdark’ tale. All elements that you have come to expect are present here. And then some more. There are four protagonists within this story. Thalia is the High Priestess of a god, frequently sacrificing children as part of her duty. Orhan is a Lord, set to organise the assassination of his Emperor, for the greater good. Tobias is a mercenary captain, hired by a certain lord to perform an assassination. Lastly, Marith is a new recruit to this mercenary company, who quickly makes a name for himself whilst highlighting there is something about him that he is hiding.
“Soldiers do not believe in gods until they do something to offend them.”
Through all of the beautiful prose, I couldn’t find a way to resonate with any of these characters. That is what is to me holding me back from loving this book. I know it is Grimdark but I found it difficult to like any of these characters. I would have liked these characters to have at least one redeemable problem. They all have various issues eating at them, being at war with themselves. I enjoyed reading their arcs. I just wanted to like them.
The story and plot is something I won’t delve into for fear of spoilers but I really enjoyed how it progressed and I was definitely left with wanting more. There were enough twists and turns to keep me guessing and kept me shocked. Anna Smith Spark has created a grim and gritty world that is appropriately filled with dark deeds and despicable people to keep the Grimdark rating at a 10/10.
“Why we march and why we die, And what life means...it's all a lie. Death! Death! Death!”
4.25/5 - a dark story with bloody action and unique storytelling. The characters are each in their own way pretty horrible, and I hope the next novel gives them chances to make me like them. The writing style is enough to keep me hooked for the rest of the series. If you are in the mood to read about child sacrifice, dragons, backstabbing and cheststabbing, complicated characters and all round Grimdarkiness, this is the book for you.
Check out my review for this fantastic book on Booknest at: Booknest
“A wise man who's ignored is about as effective as an idiot who's listened to.”
The Court of Broken Knives. The best way for me to describe this book is as a uniquely fascinating and entirely unpredictable read. As you will discover from reading the first page, Anna Smith Spark has a captivating and intriguing writing style, a poetic prose with simplicity at its core. I loved the prose. I can’t explain it or describe it well enough to do it justice, just very different to many if not all other books I have read.
This is undoubtedly a ‘Grimdark’ tale. All elements that you have come to expect are present here. And then some more. There are four protagonists within this story. Thalia is the High Priestess of a god, frequently sacrificing children as part of her duty. Orhan is a Lord, set to organise the assassination of his Emperor, for the greater good. Tobias is a mercenary captain, hired by a certain lord to perform an assassination. Lastly, Marith is a new recruit to this mercenary company, who quickly makes a name for himself whilst highlighting there is something about him that he is hiding.
“Soldiers do not believe in gods until they do something to offend them.”
Through all of the beautiful prose, I couldn’t find a way to resonate with any of these characters. That is what is to me holding me back from loving this book. I know it is Grimdark but I found it difficult to like any of these characters. I would have liked these characters to have at least one redeemable problem. They all have various issues eating at them, being at war with themselves. I enjoyed reading their arcs. I just wanted to like them.
The story and plot is something I won’t delve into for fear of spoilers but I really enjoyed how it progressed and I was definitely left with wanting more. There were enough twists and turns to keep me guessing and kept me shocked. Anna Smith Spark has created a grim and gritty world that is appropriately filled with dark deeds and despicable people to keep the Grimdark rating at a 10/10.
“Why we march and why we die, And what life means...it's all a lie. Death! Death! Death!”
4.25/5 - a dark story with bloody action and unique storytelling. The characters are each in their own way pretty horrible, and I hope the next novel gives them chances to make me like them. The writing style is enough to keep me hooked for the rest of the series. If you are in the mood to read about child sacrifice, dragons, backstabbing and cheststabbing, complicated characters and all round Grimdarkiness, this is the book for you.
November 21, 2017
“A wise man who’s ignored is about as effective as an idiot who’s listened to.”
Bloodthirsty. Brutal. Raw. And, so, so beautiful in its violent design.
Where it begun and where it ended, with journey in-between, probably best debut novel of this decade.
And a true definition of grim-dark genre.
The Court of Broken Knives, Anna Smith Spark’s amazingly written debut novel in the Empire of Dust series.
Sorlost. The eternal Golden City. The center and symbol and absurdity of white porcelain in deserts rotten heart of a decaying Sekemleth Empire.
In the city, a palace built on sand, hive of crawling insects, with their forever-ruling Emperor, striving for pointless divinity and absolute rule.
One of them is a hopeless dreamer, politician and a rational man.
Orhan Emmereth has a sense of responsibility and duty. To topple this vile Emperor, burn decadent Empire and on its ashes build a new one.
Stronger one. Better one.
For that he will need help from outside the city.
A band of mercenaries is approaching this Divine City, battling sand, heat, exhaustion and desert dragons. A band is on a mission. To infiltrate city, palace and kill the Emperor.
One member of this band is a newcomer. A nobody. Or so it seems.
Marith Altrersyr, Dragonlord, Dragon killer, Dragon kin, Demon born.
King Ruin. King of Dust. King of Shadows. King of death and emptiness and despair.
But for now he is just a tormented, lost, drug-addict.
All in all, story is told through four POV’s: a corrupt politician, veteran soldier, priestess and renounced prince.
All of which are vile and disturbingly vicious creatures, with children's body count behind them, bigger than that in Erikson’s Deadhouse Gate.
You will love none of them. You will not enjoy following any of them.
And that’s the thing. You're not supposed to. But they are so multidimensional and interesting.
So. What makes this novel so much better than rest of the lot?
Precision and ‘no-bullshitting policy’.
What I mean by precision?
Well, let’s take worldbuilding.
Worldbuilding - with its magic system, history and lore - is an ‘Iceberg’.
And as with any iceberg we only get to see 1/6th of it. Rest, which is submerged, we have to imagine ourselves. And in order for us to imagine rest of that iceberg, author himself, has to convince us it exists - but at the same time refrain himself from downpouring abundance of information on us, so much that nothing of that iceberg is left under the water.
Anna in her book does a surgically precise job of describing tip of that iceberg, while making known that there is much more underneath it.
There are variations how we get to learn about history of the world, due to songs or stories, or true memories of our main characters.
World setting and pacing in it is always on point, so we never get lost in space nor time, we always know exactly where we are on the map.
Magic system in this world is set like there are no rules, but if you pay closer attention, you’ll see exactly who is capable of exactly what.
‘No-bullshitting policy’ shines when it comes to characterization and plot.
To put it short and simple: when it comes to characters there are almost no false pretenses. Almost all the time, you know what certain character is striving for. If you don’t know, that’s because character doesn’t know either, so you tag along on this road of self-discovery with him. This doesn’t make those characters predictable or boring, no. Far from it.
But this definitely shows off Anna’s writing prowess.
And, my God, how well written this book is. How eloquent and melodic Anna’s prose is. If characterization and worldbuilding were precise, then I sincerely have no words how to describe beauty of her prose.
Every word fits in its rightful place, creating magnificent symphony.
Just read that Goddamn first chapter!
"All eternity, they’ve been fighting. All the edges blunted. Sword edges and knife edges and the edges in the mind.
Keep killing. Keep killing. Keep killing till we’re all dead.
And then he’s dead.
A blade gets him in the side, in the weak point under the shoulder where his armor has to give to let the joint move. Far in, twisting. Aiming down. Killing wound. He hears his body rip.
Oh gods. Oh gods and demons. Oh gods and demons and fuck.
He swings round, strikes at the man who’s stabbed him.
The figure facing him is a wraith, scarlet with blood, head open oozing out brain stuff.
You’re dying, he thinks. You’re dying and you’ve killed me.
Not fair."
But, also, this prose is not for everyone, as it was already mentioned to me, especially for those who enjoy plain prose like Sanderson’s, Mcclellan’s and such. Now I don't say such person shouldn't try, absolutely not, but it should be taken in consideration that prose is different. Unique.
How different and unique? It's on you to find out.
This book needs to be appreciated and everything it stands for.
I would finish off saying something like how it represents a 'shining beacon', but in all honesty, this is more of a terrifying black hole in contrast to it.
Grim-dark at its finest.
"Death and all demons! Death! Death! Death!"
Now we wait for that sequel.
March 3, 2020
I can't believe I'm finally done.
Nah, to be honest, I just stopped at 94%. I don't believe anything significant will happen in the next few paragraphs, and I do not intend to continue with this series.
Why?
This book is currently being lauded in all my circles as the bomb that fell in holy water.
I beg to strongly disagree.
I stuck with it. I really did. But it got me in the end.
I don't normally like going on about what makes a book bad in my eyes. I generally want to quickly move on to the next and let the bad vibes dissipate as dew in the summer sun.
But I'm making an exception here. In everything, balance is required. Feel free to check the positive reviews as well, and by all means, make up your own mind.
There are a few things that did piss me off about this book, the first, of many, being uncountable instances of:
"kill, kill, kill"
"death, death, death"
repeat.
AAARGGHHH!!!
The first chapter is a bewildering fight scene, with no sense at all of who is fighting whom and where the lines lay.
Don't get me wrong. I like a bloody battle as much as the next guy.
But this isn't written like a battle, with friends and foes. It's more like a battle royale as seen from the eyes of a fish swimming in guts. Like a madman's vision as seen through a haze of opium, or some other such hallucinogen. Like a (insert more allegoric similes here).
See what I'm doing here? Lots and lots of it in this book. So much of it you just want to...
And that's only Chapter ONE.
Let's get dirty.
Characters:
We're generally following (and I use the term loosely, as the author also inserts several POVs that bring absolutely nothing to the story in my opinion) two characters:
Marith, The fallen prince.
I'll put it simply: an annoying, obnoxious, self-centered prick. His backstory, agonizingly revealed as we progress through the book, is one of the most underwhelming and fake-sounding I've ever read. Ever. His interaction with the people around him (his best friend, his best friend's family, his own family, his band-mates) are a cringe-fest. The changes he goes through towards the middle of the book are just ludicrous. . His motivations are full of ominous innuendoes, that fall flat on their faces when finally revealed.
You can tell I'm pissed off, right?
Let's move on.
Emmereth: the revolutionary.
Only the MC from The Vagrant has managed to inspire the same amount of disinterest from me. Nothing stands out in him. He's flat, featureless, shapeless. We only care to read his story for the potential repercussions it may have in his world; which also ends up to be a dud.
There's no tension, no impetus. just events rolling on the dunes like so much tumbleweed.
.
Look, a camel ruminating! See the camel? Look at the camel, dear...
Oh, and there's also the Virgin Priestess that's never set a foot outside her temple since the age of who gives a shit. Gets almost killed for one of the most contrived reasons I've ever read, and forced to hike it out into the real world.
You tell yourselves: "aHA! Potential!" right?
WRONG!
She shines, you see? She shines...
Oh and there's Tobias, the mercenary sergeant.
The fight scenes are an absolute mess.
No, writing that a sword "flashes" is not enough to wow us.
We spend more time inside the head of people, being fed their feelings about the fight, than seeing the actually fights.
And before you know it: poof! MC's the last standing in a pool of foes in different stages of dismemberment.
Kill me now.
The writing:
I think I'll call it post-modern and leave it at that.
The plot twists:
Ah.. I'm tired. Too many instances of WTF moments surfacing to deal with them all.
I'll just call it a day.
Nah, to be honest, I just stopped at 94%. I don't believe anything significant will happen in the next few paragraphs, and I do not intend to continue with this series.
Why?
This book is currently being lauded in all my circles as the bomb that fell in holy water.
I beg to strongly disagree.
I stuck with it. I really did. But it got me in the end.
I don't normally like going on about what makes a book bad in my eyes. I generally want to quickly move on to the next and let the bad vibes dissipate as dew in the summer sun.
But I'm making an exception here. In everything, balance is required. Feel free to check the positive reviews as well, and by all means, make up your own mind.
There are a few things that did piss me off about this book, the first, of many, being uncountable instances of:
"kill, kill, kill"
"death, death, death"
repeat.
AAARGGHHH!!!
The first chapter is a bewildering fight scene, with no sense at all of who is fighting whom and where the lines lay.
Don't get me wrong. I like a bloody battle as much as the next guy.
But this isn't written like a battle, with friends and foes. It's more like a battle royale as seen from the eyes of a fish swimming in guts. Like a madman's vision as seen through a haze of opium, or some other such hallucinogen. Like a (insert more allegoric similes here).
See what I'm doing here? Lots and lots of it in this book. So much of it you just want to...
And that's only Chapter ONE.
Let's get dirty.
Characters:
We're generally following (and I use the term loosely, as the author also inserts several POVs that bring absolutely nothing to the story in my opinion) two characters:
Marith, The fallen prince.
I'll put it simply: an annoying, obnoxious, self-centered prick. His backstory, agonizingly revealed as we progress through the book, is one of the most underwhelming and fake-sounding I've ever read. Ever. His interaction with the people around him (his best friend, his best friend's family, his own family, his band-mates) are a cringe-fest. The changes he goes through towards the middle of the book are just ludicrous. . His motivations are full of ominous innuendoes, that fall flat on their faces when finally revealed.
You can tell I'm pissed off, right?
Let's move on.
Emmereth: the revolutionary.
Only the MC from The Vagrant has managed to inspire the same amount of disinterest from me. Nothing stands out in him. He's flat, featureless, shapeless. We only care to read his story for the potential repercussions it may have in his world; which also ends up to be a dud.
There's no tension, no impetus. just events rolling on the dunes like so much tumbleweed.
.
Look, a camel ruminating! See the camel? Look at the camel, dear...
Oh, and there's also the Virgin Priestess that's never set a foot outside her temple since the age of who gives a shit. Gets almost killed for one of the most contrived reasons I've ever read, and forced to hike it out into the real world.
You tell yourselves: "aHA! Potential!" right?
WRONG!
She shines, you see? She shines...
Oh and there's Tobias, the mercenary sergeant.
The fight scenes are an absolute mess.
No, writing that a sword "flashes" is not enough to wow us.
We spend more time inside the head of people, being fed their feelings about the fight, than seeing the actually fights.
And before you know it: poof! MC's the last standing in a pool of foes in different stages of dismemberment.
Kill me now.
The writing:
I think I'll call it post-modern and leave it at that.
The plot twists:
Ah.. I'm tired. Too many instances of WTF moments surfacing to deal with them all.
I'll just call it a day.
July 15, 2017
THE COURT OF BROKEN KNIVES is a grimdark political fantasy novel. Specifically, it is one of those novels which follows in the Game of Thrones tradition of the back and forth between various factions for control over a region.
I should say this is actually a good deal darker than George R.R. Martin's work (no small feat) in the fact this is a book where there's no House Stark. Instead, it's the story of what would happen if you had only Tywin Lannister, Viserys Targareyn (if he had his ancestor Aegon the Conqueror's martial skill), a half-mad Sansa Stark after years of working as Melisandre, and the Hound as protagonists. As I can summarize best, "this book is dark as **** man."
If my metaphor has gone over your head due to the fact you're not a A Song of Ice and Fire or Game of Thrones fan, allow me to rephrase: there's no heroes in this book. There's only protagonists. Every single one of them has innocent blood on their hands, including children, and it's rarely questionable the world would be better without them. Except, of course, that everyone else in the world is just as awful. For some people, that will send them screaming in the other direction but for others, like me, I found it quite fascinating to read.
The premise is Orhan Emmereth, nobleman of Sorlost, has decided to mount a coup against the Emperor in order to reform its crumbling hollow shell. This requires sending an army of mercenaries he has no intention of allowing to live on a one-way suicide mission into the palace. Meanwhile, said mercenary group discovers they have a bonafide demigod among them with all the horrific mental problems of an Achilles on smack. Marith is a bloodthirsty psychopath but he's beautiful and capable of great deeds so he more or less gets away with whatever he does, no matter how much damage he does (or because of it).
Marith, of course, complicates the suicide part of the suicide mission even though he's every bit as much a danger to his companions as his enemies. Rounding out the group is the high priestess, Thalia, is a woman who regularly sacrifices children on altars, who decides maybe there's more to life than being the instrument of a revolting cultural practice. She wants a handsome prince to whisk her away and isn't too particular about the fact the only one available is quite literally an insane murderer.
The characters are all extremely well-developed with more than just the collection of their flaws. They're all broken people but you understand how the society as well as events have made them this way. Some of them are more sympathetic than others but sympathy is not what Anna Smith Spark asks for. Instead, she merely takes us on a wonderful ride to see who will still be standing when the dust settles.
Ultimately, the story is more about the journey than the ending. It doesn't matter whether Orhan successfully fixes the Empire because the price for even trying has been his soul. Marith is a person with immense potential who squanders it in decadence and violence. If he actually does achieve anything, why should we cheer him on? Even Thalia is someone who has no real "right" to get a new life since she's done nothing for anyone but her self her entire life. They're all fascinating characters and have a Tarantino-esque quality of being completely unpredictable despite their ruthlessness.
If you think I'm overselling the antihero qualities of them, trust me, I'm not but that's the appeal of the book. Dark, edgy, and violent storytelling from beginning to end. Definitely worthy of the title "grimdark."
8.5/10
I should say this is actually a good deal darker than George R.R. Martin's work (no small feat) in the fact this is a book where there's no House Stark. Instead, it's the story of what would happen if you had only Tywin Lannister, Viserys Targareyn (if he had his ancestor Aegon the Conqueror's martial skill), a half-mad Sansa Stark after years of working as Melisandre, and the Hound as protagonists. As I can summarize best, "this book is dark as **** man."
If my metaphor has gone over your head due to the fact you're not a A Song of Ice and Fire or Game of Thrones fan, allow me to rephrase: there's no heroes in this book. There's only protagonists. Every single one of them has innocent blood on their hands, including children, and it's rarely questionable the world would be better without them. Except, of course, that everyone else in the world is just as awful. For some people, that will send them screaming in the other direction but for others, like me, I found it quite fascinating to read.
The premise is Orhan Emmereth, nobleman of Sorlost, has decided to mount a coup against the Emperor in order to reform its crumbling hollow shell. This requires sending an army of mercenaries he has no intention of allowing to live on a one-way suicide mission into the palace. Meanwhile, said mercenary group discovers they have a bonafide demigod among them with all the horrific mental problems of an Achilles on smack. Marith is a bloodthirsty psychopath but he's beautiful and capable of great deeds so he more or less gets away with whatever he does, no matter how much damage he does (or because of it).
Marith, of course, complicates the suicide part of the suicide mission even though he's every bit as much a danger to his companions as his enemies. Rounding out the group is the high priestess, Thalia, is a woman who regularly sacrifices children on altars, who decides maybe there's more to life than being the instrument of a revolting cultural practice. She wants a handsome prince to whisk her away and isn't too particular about the fact the only one available is quite literally an insane murderer.
The characters are all extremely well-developed with more than just the collection of their flaws. They're all broken people but you understand how the society as well as events have made them this way. Some of them are more sympathetic than others but sympathy is not what Anna Smith Spark asks for. Instead, she merely takes us on a wonderful ride to see who will still be standing when the dust settles.
Ultimately, the story is more about the journey than the ending. It doesn't matter whether Orhan successfully fixes the Empire because the price for even trying has been his soul. Marith is a person with immense potential who squanders it in decadence and violence. If he actually does achieve anything, why should we cheer him on? Even Thalia is someone who has no real "right" to get a new life since she's done nothing for anyone but her self her entire life. They're all fascinating characters and have a Tarantino-esque quality of being completely unpredictable despite their ruthlessness.
If you think I'm overselling the antihero qualities of them, trust me, I'm not but that's the appeal of the book. Dark, edgy, and violent storytelling from beginning to end. Definitely worthy of the title "grimdark."
8.5/10
July 8, 2021
In 'A Court of Broken Knives' Anna Smith Spark has crafted a compulsive epic of vibrant and visceral delights. Detailed world-building, frighteningly compelling characters and knife sharp, economical prose combine to produce something very special. Highly recommended.
September 9, 2017
The Court of Broken Knives
Julius - Ajlius. Andreas - Nadrias. Alexander - Laexandar. Amrath - Marith.
I'll get back to this.
I read, I write and I'm content. Or some such, but not really no. Sometimes, most times, what I read leaves me wanting. In Anna Smith Spark's "The Court of Broken Knives" case it leaves me wanting with more. Sadly not more of the story. Don't get me wrong it is an interesting read, but I want more from the stories I read. More character, more insight into the characters, more perspective. And less info-dumps. Please.
I had the same problem with Abercrombie, though, so she is in good company.
Maybe it's the sub-genre? Granted, all of her characters are of the I'd-rather-not-know-this-person-at-all variety, so are Logen and the rest of Abercrombie's creations. Nothing redeeming about them. The priestess who kills because that's what the religion asks of her, granted that could also be Aztec, but her hometown has more of an Arabic feel to it. The noble who thinks himself an idealistic freedom fi… director (he doesn't really fight at all) but in truth is an opportunistic asshole. The mercenary lieutenant who lives up to the name and lets his greed supersede common sense. And the mysterious dragon-slaying fresh recruit to the mercenary band who turns out to be a prince and a psychotic killer. Nothing redeeming.
Given such a cast, getting into the head of any one of these characters might be a bit too much to ask for, and indeed the author just scratches the surface -- even with the priestess's first person point of view.
Which brings me to the style. It's a curious mixture of the standard third person singular in past tense which while not omniscient lacks the focus of the narrowed down, immersive point of view, third singular in present tense, and first person both in present and past tense. I'm not sure what to make of it. In the beginning it was jarring, with time I accepted it. But do I like it? No. Certainly, I understand what Smith Spark tried to achieve, and maybe it works for some readers, to me it felt like an artificial change for change's sake if nothing else.
Battles and battles and battles. The hallmarks of the sub-genre Grimdark are realism and more realism, and c*nts as protagonists, or so I'm told. That being said, "Kill and kill and kill" does not count as battle description. More like a placeholder for something that is meant to evoke emotions. But whereas Manowar songs have driving rhythms, thundering bass, guitars and drums to evoke whatever kind of reaction they try to achieve, Smith Spark's "Death and death and death" to me is about as interesting as reading Bob Salvatore painstakingly describing how Drizzt moves every toe to get a better foothold. I know I'm exaggerating here, but it certainly feels that way. To me! As with her stylistic choices, I understand what she tries to convey, a valiant try but as my buddy Yoda used to say "Do or do not, there is no try."
World building. It's there, certainly, but as with "battles and battles and battles" it feels rather hap-hazard to me. We have ocean-worthy ships, fountains, currencies. We also have bronze swords, and silver armor and stir-ups. And then, in the same city that has running water, we also have chamber pots and shit on the street. A strange mix of antiquity and medieval that doesn't quite fit. I'm a fiddler for detail, so when I read bronze and broadsword in the same sentence, I get upset. Why you may ask. Because broadsword is a term originating in the Renaissance, and bronze was used before people figured out how to work iron. Bronze and Iron Age are named for the usage of the metal. We have Renaissance terminology for weapons used in the Iron Age and beyond but crafted from Bronze Age material. Sure there may have been broadsword type of weapons in the Bronze Age, and it is a fantasy world after all, but to me it feels all too much OD&D's Known World than realistic Grimdark.
Almost forgot: the biggest reveal can be spoiled by the names. Granted, I am not your usual reader, but then I guess no writer can switch off their inner editor and just enjoy a book, which makes us the harshest critics, I think. If you're paying attention to the info dumps and can add one and one, you can figure out the big reveal…
I didn't finish Abercrombie, but I finished Court of Broken Knives. Which does mean something, a lot actually, since I never finished Lord of the Rings either. All of the above is me being critical, same as I would be if I were handed a manuscript and asked to give the author my 2 cents. So, it held my interest, but it wasn't interesting/exciting enough for me to anticipate a sequel.
Julius - Ajlius. Andreas - Nadrias. Alexander - Laexandar. Amrath - Marith.
I'll get back to this.
I read, I write and I'm content. Or some such, but not really no. Sometimes, most times, what I read leaves me wanting. In Anna Smith Spark's "The Court of Broken Knives" case it leaves me wanting with more. Sadly not more of the story. Don't get me wrong it is an interesting read, but I want more from the stories I read. More character, more insight into the characters, more perspective. And less info-dumps. Please.
I had the same problem with Abercrombie, though, so she is in good company.
Maybe it's the sub-genre? Granted, all of her characters are of the I'd-rather-not-know-this-person-at-all variety, so are Logen and the rest of Abercrombie's creations. Nothing redeeming about them. The priestess who kills because that's what the religion asks of her, granted that could also be Aztec, but her hometown has more of an Arabic feel to it. The noble who thinks himself an idealistic freedom fi… director (he doesn't really fight at all) but in truth is an opportunistic asshole. The mercenary lieutenant who lives up to the name and lets his greed supersede common sense. And the mysterious dragon-slaying fresh recruit to the mercenary band who turns out to be a prince and a psychotic killer. Nothing redeeming.
Given such a cast, getting into the head of any one of these characters might be a bit too much to ask for, and indeed the author just scratches the surface -- even with the priestess's first person point of view.
Which brings me to the style. It's a curious mixture of the standard third person singular in past tense which while not omniscient lacks the focus of the narrowed down, immersive point of view, third singular in present tense, and first person both in present and past tense. I'm not sure what to make of it. In the beginning it was jarring, with time I accepted it. But do I like it? No. Certainly, I understand what Smith Spark tried to achieve, and maybe it works for some readers, to me it felt like an artificial change for change's sake if nothing else.
Battles and battles and battles. The hallmarks of the sub-genre Grimdark are realism and more realism, and c*nts as protagonists, or so I'm told. That being said, "Kill and kill and kill" does not count as battle description. More like a placeholder for something that is meant to evoke emotions. But whereas Manowar songs have driving rhythms, thundering bass, guitars and drums to evoke whatever kind of reaction they try to achieve, Smith Spark's "Death and death and death" to me is about as interesting as reading Bob Salvatore painstakingly describing how Drizzt moves every toe to get a better foothold. I know I'm exaggerating here, but it certainly feels that way. To me! As with her stylistic choices, I understand what she tries to convey, a valiant try but as my buddy Yoda used to say "Do or do not, there is no try."
World building. It's there, certainly, but as with "battles and battles and battles" it feels rather hap-hazard to me. We have ocean-worthy ships, fountains, currencies. We also have bronze swords, and silver armor and stir-ups. And then, in the same city that has running water, we also have chamber pots and shit on the street. A strange mix of antiquity and medieval that doesn't quite fit. I'm a fiddler for detail, so when I read bronze and broadsword in the same sentence, I get upset. Why you may ask. Because broadsword is a term originating in the Renaissance, and bronze was used before people figured out how to work iron. Bronze and Iron Age are named for the usage of the metal. We have Renaissance terminology for weapons used in the Iron Age and beyond but crafted from Bronze Age material. Sure there may have been broadsword type of weapons in the Bronze Age, and it is a fantasy world after all, but to me it feels all too much OD&D's Known World than realistic Grimdark.
Almost forgot: the biggest reveal can be spoiled by the names. Granted, I am not your usual reader, but then I guess no writer can switch off their inner editor and just enjoy a book, which makes us the harshest critics, I think. If you're paying attention to the info dumps and can add one and one, you can figure out the big reveal…
I didn't finish Abercrombie, but I finished Court of Broken Knives. Which does mean something, a lot actually, since I never finished Lord of the Rings either. All of the above is me being critical, same as I would be if I were handed a manuscript and asked to give the author my 2 cents. So, it held my interest, but it wasn't interesting/exciting enough for me to anticipate a sequel.
August 14, 2017
4 of 5 stars at The BiblioSanctum https://bibliosanctum.com/2017/08/14/...
The Court of Broken Knives is unlikely to shatter any molds in the grimdark genre, but I do have to give it credit for checking off all the right boxes and pushing all my right buttons. Also, the writing is exquisite, making it hard to believe this is Anna Smith Spark’s debut as it’s so incredibly polished and well done.
I do worry, however, that prospective readers might pick up this novel dismiss it almost right away because of its first chapter. There’s a pervasive belief about the fantasy genre these days that “grimdark” is all about the violence, nihilism, amoralism, and a lot of piss, blood, shit thrown in along with all the killing and dying. While, sure, those are the common features of many works of grimdark, I would argue that there’s also a lot more to it than that. Unfortunately, a lot new authors also tend to fall into the trap, trying to score points by shamelessly resorting to shock value when their main concern should be developing their characters and story, regardless of the desire to include as many examples of brutal violence, graphic sex, profanity, and explicit descriptions of bodily fluids as possible.
Where am I going with this, you ask? Well, not long before I started The Court of Broken Knives, I’d just come from another debut grimdark that I would described as edgy-for-the-sake-of-being edgy. And when I was reading the opening pages of this, there was that brief period of annoyance where I thought for sure I was strapping myself in for yet another one.
But thankfully, I was wrong. Yes, the book does begin with a bloody battle and lots of DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! Eventually though, we move beyond that into the meat of the story, following a rough crew of mercenaries as they close upon their destiny of Sorlost, the Sekemleth Empire’s seat of power. The truth of their mission will be revealed soon enough, but for now, let’s take a look at the key players. Nervous and inexperienced, Marith is the new recruit, a young Adonis with the face of an angel and a dark secret in his blood. Tobias is his squad captain, a thoughtful but pragmatic leader who keeps his purpose close to this heart and his eye on the prize.
But the mercenaries are just a small piece of the big picture—the muscle behind the brain, so to speak. They follow the orders of Orhann Emmereth, a powerful nobleman and counselor to the Emperor. A hardened and jaded politician, Orhann fears for the future of the Sekemleth Empire and believes that doom will come to them all come unless he can bring about a new leader to rise from the ashes of the old. It is he who has hired Tobias and his mercenaries, tasking them to kill the Emperor and everyone else in his court. Meanwhile, in the nearby temple in Sorlost, much of the power also rests in the hands of a fourth major character. Thalia is the High Priestess of the empire’s rather unusual and cruel religion whose god demands the sacrifice of children, and as the head of the order, it is she who must carry out these difficult ritualistic killings.
From these four perspectives, the author weaves a tale of intrigue, passion, and betrayal about the complexities of human nature and war. Characterization is the real standout here, exploring the different interaction between the members of this eclectic cast. Every one of them is a unique and multi-faceted individual, complete with their own set of quirks and flaws. In particular, I found Orhann and Thalia’s storylines to be the most intriguing, for both are conflicted characters who are in positions of influence and yet are also victims of their own circumstances. Tired and cynical, Orhann may have seen it all in his long career as a politician, but it still wouldn’t be fair to call him a bad or callous man. If anything, he cares too much. Despite the troubles in his personal life, he strives to be the loving husband and soon-to-be father, and any corrupt or treasonous decisions he makes, he does it because he truly believes he is doing it for the good of the empire.
Then, of course, we have Thalia, a complicated woman who carries on with her grisly work with child sacrifices as she knows she must. But there is also a spark of defiance there, fueled by the knowledge of the fate that awaits her at the end of her tenure as High Priestess. Curiously, hers is the only perspective we get in first-person, a strange choice by the author. Short as they were though, Thalia’s chapters do give readers deeper insight into her character and personality. She goes on to develop an unexpected romance with Marith, a grand love affair that really should deserve a paragraph all on its own, though it’s probably best to leave the best parts as a surprise. Suffice it to say that they are not your typical fictional couple, and I wouldn’t go in expecting anything you’d usually get from a more traditional romance.
Likewise, I don’t want to reveal too much about the story, because so much of the joy in reading this book was the experience of peeling back its layers and discovering its secrets. What I can tell you is that it is more than the sum of its parts, and the plot follows a slow-burn approach that gradually builds to a violent climax. To wit, A Court of Broken Knives wasn’t a book that had me on the edge of my seat the whole time, but neither was I ever bored. And although I wouldn’t call it groundbreaking by any means, this is still a very solid and well put-together debut. Certainly, it ended up giving me a lot more than I expected, and I would not hesitate to recommend it if your predilections run to grimdark or dark fantasy. Anna Smith Spark is an author to watch, and I would not hesitate to pick up the next book in the series.
The Court of Broken Knives is unlikely to shatter any molds in the grimdark genre, but I do have to give it credit for checking off all the right boxes and pushing all my right buttons. Also, the writing is exquisite, making it hard to believe this is Anna Smith Spark’s debut as it’s so incredibly polished and well done.
I do worry, however, that prospective readers might pick up this novel dismiss it almost right away because of its first chapter. There’s a pervasive belief about the fantasy genre these days that “grimdark” is all about the violence, nihilism, amoralism, and a lot of piss, blood, shit thrown in along with all the killing and dying. While, sure, those are the common features of many works of grimdark, I would argue that there’s also a lot more to it than that. Unfortunately, a lot new authors also tend to fall into the trap, trying to score points by shamelessly resorting to shock value when their main concern should be developing their characters and story, regardless of the desire to include as many examples of brutal violence, graphic sex, profanity, and explicit descriptions of bodily fluids as possible.
Where am I going with this, you ask? Well, not long before I started The Court of Broken Knives, I’d just come from another debut grimdark that I would described as edgy-for-the-sake-of-being edgy. And when I was reading the opening pages of this, there was that brief period of annoyance where I thought for sure I was strapping myself in for yet another one.
But thankfully, I was wrong. Yes, the book does begin with a bloody battle and lots of DEATH! DEATH! DEATH! Eventually though, we move beyond that into the meat of the story, following a rough crew of mercenaries as they close upon their destiny of Sorlost, the Sekemleth Empire’s seat of power. The truth of their mission will be revealed soon enough, but for now, let’s take a look at the key players. Nervous and inexperienced, Marith is the new recruit, a young Adonis with the face of an angel and a dark secret in his blood. Tobias is his squad captain, a thoughtful but pragmatic leader who keeps his purpose close to this heart and his eye on the prize.
But the mercenaries are just a small piece of the big picture—the muscle behind the brain, so to speak. They follow the orders of Orhann Emmereth, a powerful nobleman and counselor to the Emperor. A hardened and jaded politician, Orhann fears for the future of the Sekemleth Empire and believes that doom will come to them all come unless he can bring about a new leader to rise from the ashes of the old. It is he who has hired Tobias and his mercenaries, tasking them to kill the Emperor and everyone else in his court. Meanwhile, in the nearby temple in Sorlost, much of the power also rests in the hands of a fourth major character. Thalia is the High Priestess of the empire’s rather unusual and cruel religion whose god demands the sacrifice of children, and as the head of the order, it is she who must carry out these difficult ritualistic killings.
From these four perspectives, the author weaves a tale of intrigue, passion, and betrayal about the complexities of human nature and war. Characterization is the real standout here, exploring the different interaction between the members of this eclectic cast. Every one of them is a unique and multi-faceted individual, complete with their own set of quirks and flaws. In particular, I found Orhann and Thalia’s storylines to be the most intriguing, for both are conflicted characters who are in positions of influence and yet are also victims of their own circumstances. Tired and cynical, Orhann may have seen it all in his long career as a politician, but it still wouldn’t be fair to call him a bad or callous man. If anything, he cares too much. Despite the troubles in his personal life, he strives to be the loving husband and soon-to-be father, and any corrupt or treasonous decisions he makes, he does it because he truly believes he is doing it for the good of the empire.
Then, of course, we have Thalia, a complicated woman who carries on with her grisly work with child sacrifices as she knows she must. But there is also a spark of defiance there, fueled by the knowledge of the fate that awaits her at the end of her tenure as High Priestess. Curiously, hers is the only perspective we get in first-person, a strange choice by the author. Short as they were though, Thalia’s chapters do give readers deeper insight into her character and personality. She goes on to develop an unexpected romance with Marith, a grand love affair that really should deserve a paragraph all on its own, though it’s probably best to leave the best parts as a surprise. Suffice it to say that they are not your typical fictional couple, and I wouldn’t go in expecting anything you’d usually get from a more traditional romance.
Likewise, I don’t want to reveal too much about the story, because so much of the joy in reading this book was the experience of peeling back its layers and discovering its secrets. What I can tell you is that it is more than the sum of its parts, and the plot follows a slow-burn approach that gradually builds to a violent climax. To wit, A Court of Broken Knives wasn’t a book that had me on the edge of my seat the whole time, but neither was I ever bored. And although I wouldn’t call it groundbreaking by any means, this is still a very solid and well put-together debut. Certainly, it ended up giving me a lot more than I expected, and I would not hesitate to recommend it if your predilections run to grimdark or dark fantasy. Anna Smith Spark is an author to watch, and I would not hesitate to pick up the next book in the series.
July 3, 2020
I've been struggling a lot recently with the fantasy debut authors the big fantasy publishers have been churning out since around 2017-2018 and this opening book in Anna Spark Smith's Empires of Dust grimdark fantasy trilogy was just the latest flop to add to my list of disappointing recent fantasy debut books that I've read!
The premise was intriguing enough. Orhan Emmereth, a noble scion in the capitol city of the greatest Empire in the land, plots revolution. Orhan knows his people are a fading force and have fallen a long way from the Empire's heyday. Sorlost might be a city that has never been conquered but with 40 years of peace and a people that have grown decadent, complacent, and lazy over that time Orhan fears it is only a matter of time before one of the Empire's more ambitious and aggressive neighbours makes a move against it and he fears that the Empire will be in no position to resist any real attack without some real change. He decides the best way to achieve that is to execute the Emperor and a chunk of the royal court so he hires in a mercenary company to get the job done. The mercenary company are a typical lot for the most part with the exception of their newest recruit. Marith has secrets and bloody plans of his own!
This actually had one of the very worst starts to a fantasy book that I've ever read. Within the first three to four chapters it had ticked most of my pet peeves when it came to things I hate in my fantasy books! I did eventually get used to Smith's writing style and got up to speed with her fantasy world but I'm not sure it was worth the slog that were the early stages as even when this story settled down it was not up to much or particularly compelling.
The plot itself was actually OK. I like a bit of political intrigue in my stories especially if it is mixed with enough twists and turns to keep things interesting. What we got in this story just about held my attention. The plot was actually fine. What killed this book for me was the fact that it was basically just nihilistic misery-porn written in a very flowery writing style that constantly felt like bad poetry dreamed up by an edgy 13 year old boy. I loathe misery-porn and flowery writing in general so this book was never going to resonate all that well with me as soon as it became apparent both were big parts of this book. The third negative was the fact that the characters were all awful people. It meant I had zero reason to invest in them emotionally and that meant I just did not care all that much what happened to any of them which killed a lot of the potential tension and emotional engagement the story might otherwise have had. I can take awful characters in my stories but they have to have some sort of hook that keeps me sucked into their stories (think books like Beyond Redemption, Prince of Thorns, Prince of Nothing, or even reading the villain POV's in a book like GoT) but this story just completely lacked the hook. I did not like any of the characters and the story was not special enough on its own to compensate for my lack of emotional engagement in the characters. It was also really not helped by the writing style which I always found a bit distant, distracting, ridiculous, and repetitive.
I should quote some of the writing to show you guys an example of the kind of thing I hated but I just cannot be arsed investing that much time into a review for this book. If you read the first chapter you will get a feel of the writing style right away as it is pretty distinctive. I spotted a lot of my fellow Goodreads friends praising the "beautiful writing" and even quoting examples of the sort of stuff that drove me insane while reading this one so that just goes to show that it is different strokes for different folks and I'm perfectly willing to admit that I just loathe this style of writing in general so it is a personal taste thing.
The four main characters in the story feel like they should have worked in theory but they just did not in practice:
Marith: Special snowflake evil prince. He had a bit of mystery to him in the early stages and was like a blend blend between Prince Joffrey from GoT and Jorg from Prince of Thorns. Unfortunately he is a weak imitation of both those characters and that hurt this book in a bad way. He provided a bit of mystery and intrigue in the early stages but was a sadistic sociopath so it was impossible to root for the guy. The fact that he was a serious drug addict only made the fact that he was such a special snowflake all the more ridiculous.
Orhan: Power hungry scheming noble scion. He was probably the most interesting character of the bunch but was also a selfish sociopath that was impossible to root for.
Thalia: Baby-killing high priestess. She had an interesting back story but the more the story developed the more her story arc became a bit of a bust.
Random Mercenary Dude: I just finished this book yesterday and I've already forgotten the guys name. It matters not as he was as generic a grimdark mercenary style character as they come and his only stand out feature was his lust for Marith.
All the characters flopped and that hurt the story. I also found it super annoying that Marith just lurched from place to place winning fights and the like with everyone from masses of trained soldiers to mages and random dragons all while so fucked up on booze and drugs he could barely stand up! Add to that the fact that two of the other POV cast basically threw their panties at him upon first sight and it lead to a lot of eye-roll inducing scenes to be had.
The dragons sucked as well. They just popped up at random and were always boring flops. How is it even possible to make talking dragons this boring and shitty?
I feel like this sort of "grimark" fantasy is the type of book that is ruining the dark fantasy genre for me. It is just flat out nihilistic misery-porn and I loathe that sort of story so it is sad to see it gain so much popularity in the genre nowadays. Old school dark fantasy always had a better balance to the storytelling than his. Stuff like Malazan, AsoIaF, Prince of Nothing, and Black Company were more than just one-note misery-porn. Where did all those sort of dark fantasy books go? This modern trend of ridiculously over the top nihilism sucks and feels like a try-hard parody of the genre to me!
In Anna Spark Smith's defence this book did lack two of the big negatives of the modern grimdark genre. It lacked the typical misogyny and juvenile humour that plagues the genre.
Despite all my moaning in this review I've read a lot worse books than this one over the years. I feel like the story itself was fine and could have worked well for me if the writing had not been the type I hate so much and the tone was not so overly bleak.
I rate my chances of picking up the second book in the series to be pretty poor. I could probably read it as I did get used to the writing and the world building but the truth is that once I finished The Court of Broken Knives I realized I just did not really care about any of the characters or the various story arcs enough to want to find out what happens next.
Rating: 2.5 stars. I'll round up to 3 stars as this book recovered from a truly awful start and just about managed to suck me in well enough that I made it to the end of the tale without finding it the chore I feared it was going to be in the early stages.
Audio Note: I feel like Colin Mace did better with this one than he did with Blackwing (the last book I heard him narrate) but that in general he is just not a great narrator. The guy always picks some truly horrific accents for the characters. This time we got a Scouser in the mercenary company. I was hoping the guy got killed from the second he opened his mouth. Scousers in Fantasyland is a horror one should never have to bear! Listening to the likes of Carragher, McManaman, and Gerrard regularly on the soccer-ball coverage is my absolute limit. I'm not having it in my fantasy audios!!!! I feel like narrators should just stick to neutral accents for any characters in a story that are going to appear for more than a chapter or two.
Colin Mace was joined by Meriel Rosenkranz. She seemed decent enough performing the Thalia first person POV scenes but it was a bit pointless to include her since those scenes must have comfortably topped less than an hour of the book and it was still Mace who read all of the Thalia third person POV parts. It was just a weird production choice.
The premise was intriguing enough. Orhan Emmereth, a noble scion in the capitol city of the greatest Empire in the land, plots revolution. Orhan knows his people are a fading force and have fallen a long way from the Empire's heyday. Sorlost might be a city that has never been conquered but with 40 years of peace and a people that have grown decadent, complacent, and lazy over that time Orhan fears it is only a matter of time before one of the Empire's more ambitious and aggressive neighbours makes a move against it and he fears that the Empire will be in no position to resist any real attack without some real change. He decides the best way to achieve that is to execute the Emperor and a chunk of the royal court so he hires in a mercenary company to get the job done. The mercenary company are a typical lot for the most part with the exception of their newest recruit. Marith has secrets and bloody plans of his own!
This actually had one of the very worst starts to a fantasy book that I've ever read. Within the first three to four chapters it had ticked most of my pet peeves when it came to things I hate in my fantasy books! I did eventually get used to Smith's writing style and got up to speed with her fantasy world but I'm not sure it was worth the slog that were the early stages as even when this story settled down it was not up to much or particularly compelling.
The plot itself was actually OK. I like a bit of political intrigue in my stories especially if it is mixed with enough twists and turns to keep things interesting. What we got in this story just about held my attention. The plot was actually fine. What killed this book for me was the fact that it was basically just nihilistic misery-porn written in a very flowery writing style that constantly felt like bad poetry dreamed up by an edgy 13 year old boy. I loathe misery-porn and flowery writing in general so this book was never going to resonate all that well with me as soon as it became apparent both were big parts of this book. The third negative was the fact that the characters were all awful people. It meant I had zero reason to invest in them emotionally and that meant I just did not care all that much what happened to any of them which killed a lot of the potential tension and emotional engagement the story might otherwise have had. I can take awful characters in my stories but they have to have some sort of hook that keeps me sucked into their stories (think books like Beyond Redemption, Prince of Thorns, Prince of Nothing, or even reading the villain POV's in a book like GoT) but this story just completely lacked the hook. I did not like any of the characters and the story was not special enough on its own to compensate for my lack of emotional engagement in the characters. It was also really not helped by the writing style which I always found a bit distant, distracting, ridiculous, and repetitive.
I should quote some of the writing to show you guys an example of the kind of thing I hated but I just cannot be arsed investing that much time into a review for this book. If you read the first chapter you will get a feel of the writing style right away as it is pretty distinctive. I spotted a lot of my fellow Goodreads friends praising the "beautiful writing" and even quoting examples of the sort of stuff that drove me insane while reading this one so that just goes to show that it is different strokes for different folks and I'm perfectly willing to admit that I just loathe this style of writing in general so it is a personal taste thing.
The four main characters in the story feel like they should have worked in theory but they just did not in practice:
Marith: Special snowflake evil prince. He had a bit of mystery to him in the early stages and was like a blend blend between Prince Joffrey from GoT and Jorg from Prince of Thorns. Unfortunately he is a weak imitation of both those characters and that hurt this book in a bad way. He provided a bit of mystery and intrigue in the early stages but was a sadistic sociopath so it was impossible to root for the guy. The fact that he was a serious drug addict only made the fact that he was such a special snowflake all the more ridiculous.
Orhan: Power hungry scheming noble scion. He was probably the most interesting character of the bunch but was also a selfish sociopath that was impossible to root for.
Thalia: Baby-killing high priestess. She had an interesting back story but the more the story developed the more her story arc became a bit of a bust.
Random Mercenary Dude: I just finished this book yesterday and I've already forgotten the guys name. It matters not as he was as generic a grimdark mercenary style character as they come and his only stand out feature was his lust for Marith.
All the characters flopped and that hurt the story. I also found it super annoying that Marith just lurched from place to place winning fights and the like with everyone from masses of trained soldiers to mages and random dragons all while so fucked up on booze and drugs he could barely stand up! Add to that the fact that two of the other POV cast basically threw their panties at him upon first sight and it lead to a lot of eye-roll inducing scenes to be had.
The dragons sucked as well. They just popped up at random and were always boring flops. How is it even possible to make talking dragons this boring and shitty?
I feel like this sort of "grimark" fantasy is the type of book that is ruining the dark fantasy genre for me. It is just flat out nihilistic misery-porn and I loathe that sort of story so it is sad to see it gain so much popularity in the genre nowadays. Old school dark fantasy always had a better balance to the storytelling than his. Stuff like Malazan, AsoIaF, Prince of Nothing, and Black Company were more than just one-note misery-porn. Where did all those sort of dark fantasy books go? This modern trend of ridiculously over the top nihilism sucks and feels like a try-hard parody of the genre to me!
In Anna Spark Smith's defence this book did lack two of the big negatives of the modern grimdark genre. It lacked the typical misogyny and juvenile humour that plagues the genre.
Despite all my moaning in this review I've read a lot worse books than this one over the years. I feel like the story itself was fine and could have worked well for me if the writing had not been the type I hate so much and the tone was not so overly bleak.
I rate my chances of picking up the second book in the series to be pretty poor. I could probably read it as I did get used to the writing and the world building but the truth is that once I finished The Court of Broken Knives I realized I just did not really care about any of the characters or the various story arcs enough to want to find out what happens next.
Rating: 2.5 stars. I'll round up to 3 stars as this book recovered from a truly awful start and just about managed to suck me in well enough that I made it to the end of the tale without finding it the chore I feared it was going to be in the early stages.
Audio Note: I feel like Colin Mace did better with this one than he did with Blackwing (the last book I heard him narrate) but that in general he is just not a great narrator. The guy always picks some truly horrific accents for the characters. This time we got a Scouser in the mercenary company. I was hoping the guy got killed from the second he opened his mouth. Scousers in Fantasyland is a horror one should never have to bear! Listening to the likes of Carragher, McManaman, and Gerrard regularly on the soccer-ball coverage is my absolute limit. I'm not having it in my fantasy audios!!!! I feel like narrators should just stick to neutral accents for any characters in a story that are going to appear for more than a chapter or two.
Colin Mace was joined by Meriel Rosenkranz. She seemed decent enough performing the Thalia first person POV scenes but it was a bit pointless to include her since those scenes must have comfortably topped less than an hour of the book and it was still Mace who read all of the Thalia third person POV parts. It was just a weird production choice.
June 17, 2018
Well decided to bring this book on vacation to Scotland, was really getting curious how I would experience this read. The reviews are very varied.
So yah I loved it :D 4.5 stars! Worked out just fine for me. Sure in the beginning you really need to get used to the writing, english isnt my first language and I love getting better at it. But honestly Im not good at languages in general. Even then I managed to enjoy this story and follow the plot. I wish I would finally start making fucking notes! I forget so much right after I read it XD
First there is no obvious plot. You have a couple of POVs and there are a few main characters. You follow their doings and slowly get to know them. The writing is quite intense and a lot of repetitive or short sentences which I love, really thicks up the situation and emotion. I grew into the characters this way, some have big roles in society, well all of them in a way xD The main character is totally nuts! He really hates and loves what he does, struggles internally a lot and this is all well laid out in my opinion. And he has this power, its not just his charisma working. So there is this lurking plot that might become more specific in the next book, or when the series is finished. I dont know xD
The book itself contains a lot of murder, blood, dark thoughts which...yes I also love XD
But where is this all going? Will the world need to be saved of Amrath again? Not sure, would want to know but Im still hooked :)
'The feel of the blood on his skin, beautiful as water. Like the rain in the desert. Like the sea on a hot summer day.'
'There were a couple of villages in Chathe whose inhabitants believed the world was one vast rotting corpse, people the maggots crawling in its flesh.'
'The terrible, beautiful pain of being alive'
Pretty quotes! Wish I had saved more, kinda poetic!
So yah I loved it :D 4.5 stars! Worked out just fine for me. Sure in the beginning you really need to get used to the writing, english isnt my first language and I love getting better at it. But honestly Im not good at languages in general. Even then I managed to enjoy this story and follow the plot. I wish I would finally start making fucking notes! I forget so much right after I read it XD
First there is no obvious plot. You have a couple of POVs and there are a few main characters. You follow their doings and slowly get to know them. The writing is quite intense and a lot of repetitive or short sentences which I love, really thicks up the situation and emotion. I grew into the characters this way, some have big roles in society, well all of them in a way xD The main character is totally nuts! He really hates and loves what he does, struggles internally a lot and this is all well laid out in my opinion. And he has this power, its not just his charisma working. So there is this lurking plot that might become more specific in the next book, or when the series is finished. I dont know xD
The book itself contains a lot of murder, blood, dark thoughts which...yes I also love XD
But where is this all going? Will the world need to be saved of Amrath again? Not sure, would want to know but Im still hooked :)
'The feel of the blood on his skin, beautiful as water. Like the rain in the desert. Like the sea on a hot summer day.'
'There were a couple of villages in Chathe whose inhabitants believed the world was one vast rotting corpse, people the maggots crawling in its flesh.'
'The terrible, beautiful pain of being alive'
Pretty quotes! Wish I had saved more, kinda poetic!
September 12, 2019
The writing took a little while to get into but once it clicked I was hooked. It kind of reminded me of Chuck Palahniuk's writing in that the sentences are short and clipped and at times can seem conversational. However, this did not take away from it being a very vivid and cinematic story. Marc Lawrence wrote an excellent review for this where he describes the unique qualities of the writing and how they, based on what he was taught, shouldn't work. And it didn't for me at first. By 20% I almost gave up but by 30% I was neglecting other things I had to get done to finish it. Court of Broken Knives also does exactly what the first book of a trilogy should do giving glimpses of the world as a whole and of the different races, but leaves enough to be expanded upon in future installments. The are some beautifully written passages about the setting and scenery, the buildings and the outfits but there are also some beautifully written passages about death and murder and dismemberment. This book does not shy from going to dark places but nothing seemed gratuitous or unnecessary and it all has meaning to the overall arc of the story. Impressive debut that has its own unique voice.
July 31, 2017
4.75 stars. Just a hair away from my 'best of all times' shelf.
It took me some time to collect my thoughts for this review (and am not too sure I am there yet even still). So if you don't feel like reading a long rambling write up - just go with my brief recommendation.
If you are a grimdark connoisseur - grab your copy today. You will not regret it.
The trick with reviewing this book is that it twists and turns so many times as the plot evolves that it is hard to say anything without giving much away. Not only the plot moves unpredictably but the characters change and progress with it. And it is very rewarding to follow them on this journey, so I don't want to leave any spoilers behind.
Since I cannot summarise much or describe the plot in any meaningful level of detail, let me just highlight some traits of the book that makes it very unique (at least for me):
(a) It is a 1st book in a new series, but it totally works as a stand-alone. Frankly, I am not even sure how Anna Smith Spark plans to follow it up... So don't be afraid of making a long term commitment. But if the follow-up comes along, it will be an auto add to my TBR
(b) It comes in three sections but whilst they are connected by the plotlines, setting and characters they feel very very different. Section 1 is a mercenary grimdark (feels a bit like George R.R. Martin). Section 2 is a high court political intrigue drama (the best analogy I can think of is Gavriel Kay Sailing to Sarantium). Section 3 is... eh... highly unusual (the closest thing would be Beyond Redemption but it is not a perfect comparison, it’s just thematically kindred).
(c) The book is written in a highly distinct almost poetic, lyrical style. It may startle you at first, for example, I did NOT enjoy a prologue (it makes more sense once you have finished the book). But as you immerse in the story the language makes the emotion and the atmosphere much more vivid.
(d) The mood of the book changes as the plot evolves. It starts pretty high octane on action and then transforms into a more melancholic rhapsody of sorts. It is a grimdark fantasy but with strong tones of 'gothic', 'macabre' and 'tragedy'. It is delightfully dark.
(e) The book cleverly explores ideas of drug addiction. I have never seen it done before in fantasy. Despite the poetic style, the story remains both gritty and realistic (exactly the way I like it).
(e) It is very pretty and evocative in a gothic and macabre (again) kind of way. Think of it as a ‘baroque grimdark’: rich, deep and intricate.
In summary: I loved it. Don’t miss out to explore a new fresh voice in the genre. I look forward to the book #2.
It took me some time to collect my thoughts for this review (and am not too sure I am there yet even still). So if you don't feel like reading a long rambling write up - just go with my brief recommendation.
If you are a grimdark connoisseur - grab your copy today. You will not regret it.
The trick with reviewing this book is that it twists and turns so many times as the plot evolves that it is hard to say anything without giving much away. Not only the plot moves unpredictably but the characters change and progress with it. And it is very rewarding to follow them on this journey, so I don't want to leave any spoilers behind.
Since I cannot summarise much or describe the plot in any meaningful level of detail, let me just highlight some traits of the book that makes it very unique (at least for me):
(a) It is a 1st book in a new series, but it totally works as a stand-alone. Frankly, I am not even sure how Anna Smith Spark plans to follow it up... So don't be afraid of making a long term commitment. But if the follow-up comes along, it will be an auto add to my TBR
(b) It comes in three sections but whilst they are connected by the plotlines, setting and characters they feel very very different. Section 1 is a mercenary grimdark (feels a bit like George R.R. Martin). Section 2 is a high court political intrigue drama (the best analogy I can think of is Gavriel Kay Sailing to Sarantium). Section 3 is... eh... highly unusual (the closest thing would be Beyond Redemption but it is not a perfect comparison, it’s just thematically kindred).
(c) The book is written in a highly distinct almost poetic, lyrical style. It may startle you at first, for example, I did NOT enjoy a prologue (it makes more sense once you have finished the book). But as you immerse in the story the language makes the emotion and the atmosphere much more vivid.
(d) The mood of the book changes as the plot evolves. It starts pretty high octane on action and then transforms into a more melancholic rhapsody of sorts. It is a grimdark fantasy but with strong tones of 'gothic', 'macabre' and 'tragedy'. It is delightfully dark.
(e) The book cleverly explores ideas of drug addiction. I have never seen it done before in fantasy. Despite the poetic style, the story remains both gritty and realistic (exactly the way I like it).
(e) It is very pretty and evocative in a gothic and macabre (again) kind of way. Think of it as a ‘baroque grimdark’: rich, deep and intricate.
In summary: I loved it. Don’t miss out to explore a new fresh voice in the genre. I look forward to the book #2.
June 27, 2017
This is a very different book. A special book. There are lots of great writers in the fantasy genre, writers like Rothfuss or Lawrence who inject a true beauty into their prose. Smith Sparks goes beyond this, transporting the writing, and with it the reader, until the prose has an impact akin to poetry.
I'd go so far as to say that I've never encountered anything quite like Smith Spark's writing before. That this is art is beyond question, but it is also a compelling tale, and wonderfully crafted. The plot is relatively simple, of characters bound by duty and expectation, and how they rail against these bonds. Smith Spark's characters are beautifully flawed; marred by addiction, weakness, and cowardice.
The Court of Broken Knives has something for everyone, love, action, glory, and pathos. Five stars from me, Smith Sparks is one to watch.
I'd go so far as to say that I've never encountered anything quite like Smith Spark's writing before. That this is art is beyond question, but it is also a compelling tale, and wonderfully crafted. The plot is relatively simple, of characters bound by duty and expectation, and how they rail against these bonds. Smith Spark's characters are beautifully flawed; marred by addiction, weakness, and cowardice.
The Court of Broken Knives has something for everyone, love, action, glory, and pathos. Five stars from me, Smith Sparks is one to watch.
January 13, 2021
He is death. He is ruin. He is Amrath.
But he is so beautiful.
Death! Death! Death!
I can hear the voice of madness. I can see what madness sees. I can touch, taste, feel all those beautiful things. Anna Smith Spark showed me the beauty in the darkness. She wove a wonderful story and delivered it with a unique style. You cannot compare Anna Smith Spark with other authors. She is the one others will compare themselves to.
June 28, 2017
5 stars
Review originally posted at Moon Magister Reviews
Was I expecting, when requesting this on a whim, to find that a book that was one of my favourites of 2017? The answer is no, and I’m so glad that I listened to the feeling in my gut and decided to pick this one up. Because, as much as I love fantasy, sometimes I have a really hard time telling books apart from their blurbs. Large fantasy cities? Mercenaries? Empires? I can name off the top of my head a veritable list of books that contain these components. It’s what an author does with these building blocks that makes them special…
And this is certainly something special.
Sorlost is a City built behind towering walls of Bronze, residents comfortable, protected, despite being surrounded by a crumbling Empire of Dust. Orhan Emmereth is Lord of a once powerful house and sometime confidante of the Emperor. He sees the way the tiles are falling, that they are living in the dying ages of the Empire. Along with other high ranking Lords and his charismatic lover, Darath, he devises a coup, hiring mercenaries from across the desert to infiltrate the Palace and take out the Emperor.
This ragged band of mercenaries are much like any ragged band of mercenaries, apart from the cuckoo in their midst, a boy with the face and education of an aristocrat, the dreams of a broken soldier and the bloodlust of a beast.
In the great Temple of the Lord of Living and Dying, a young High Priestess completes her ritual sacrifices to keep the doors between life and death secure. She has no idea how this revolution could affect her temple and how it will change her life forever.
‘A crown of silver. A throne of gold. A sound of weeping. A scent of blood in the air. King Ruin. King of Dust. King of Shadows.’
This book is 100% for people who came out of ‘Game of Thrones’ more interested in the story of the Targaryens than anything else. It has all the trademarks of a dark fantasy, a brutal antihero, gallows humour, dragons…but there’s something else about this book. It’s just so well written. Seriously, it’s so rich and poetic and gorgeous. It’s a tale told by a poet with the mouth of a sailor and the voice of an angel, and it suits the tone of the book so well.
Take the character of Marith, a boy who looks as if he’s been carved from marble and storm clouds, but with an almost demonic killing frenzy. He’s not your classic anti-hero, not perfect in every crooked way; he has flaws that frequently take him to the edge of death, that make him unpredictable. You mourn for Marith, for the life and love that he could have had, for the addictions that plague him and for the lack of sympathy and help extended to him. I mean ‘cool motive, still murder’ is definitely a phrase that comes to mind and he’s not written in a way where you are expected to forgive him his crimes. I honestly felt at times as if we might be watching the end of the world…
Without spoiling much of the story I really loved how Smith Spark handled the story of the our dark hero’s lover. Through reading her sections you can entirely see how the character knows that falling in love with this person is a terrible idea, how they teeter between staying and leaving and yet, somehow, fall under their spell. So many times when reading fantasy novels, I find myself questioning why someone would stay with their despot lover, but this book definitely explored how people can become someone that they never knew they could be.
One thing that I know can make a lot of people uncomfortable whilst reading grimdark fantasy is an over-reliance on gendered violence. ‘A Court of Broken Knives’ seemed to be refreshingly free of this trope. I mean, every single person in this book is at severe risk of being knifed, but the danger of being decapitated by a dragon was higher than being raped. Thumbs up for that. For everyone who is concerned that it indicates a lack of general gory glory, have no fear, it’s bloody enough to make ‘Game of Thrones’ look a kids bed time story, it just decides to make everyone at risk of a gory death, not just women.
Also, the relationship between Orhan and Darath was so unbelievably cute. Established m/m romance in grimdark, that is treated respectfully? I did feel sad that it was a world where, whilst m/m relationships weren’t really frowned upon, a marriage between two high ranking Lords was considered impossible. It did mean that Orhan had to be ostensibly in a loveless sham marriage where neither he nor his wife was happy. But, to be honest, I don’t think there was a happy marriage in the entire book, so it wasn’t entirely out of pattern. The story is young and dark, who knows what is going to happen.
As mentioned earlier in the review, this book is one of my absolute favourites of the year so far. It is just so irreverent but evocative, poetic but also blunt and gory, filled with gorgeous prose and enough cursing to make a soldier blush. I can’t believe I’m going to have to wait ‘who-knows-how-long’ for book two. I can’t wait that long to see how my favourite royally makes a mess of everything.
‘A Court of Broken Knives’ it out on the 29th of June (tomorrow) from the wonderful people over at Harper Voyager, and I know there are some beautiful signed copies available at Goldsboro Books *wink wink*.
Many many thanks to Harper Voyager Books for a copy in return for an honest review. It was a pleasure to read.
Review originally posted at Moon Magister Reviews
Was I expecting, when requesting this on a whim, to find that a book that was one of my favourites of 2017? The answer is no, and I’m so glad that I listened to the feeling in my gut and decided to pick this one up. Because, as much as I love fantasy, sometimes I have a really hard time telling books apart from their blurbs. Large fantasy cities? Mercenaries? Empires? I can name off the top of my head a veritable list of books that contain these components. It’s what an author does with these building blocks that makes them special…
And this is certainly something special.
Sorlost is a City built behind towering walls of Bronze, residents comfortable, protected, despite being surrounded by a crumbling Empire of Dust. Orhan Emmereth is Lord of a once powerful house and sometime confidante of the Emperor. He sees the way the tiles are falling, that they are living in the dying ages of the Empire. Along with other high ranking Lords and his charismatic lover, Darath, he devises a coup, hiring mercenaries from across the desert to infiltrate the Palace and take out the Emperor.
This ragged band of mercenaries are much like any ragged band of mercenaries, apart from the cuckoo in their midst, a boy with the face and education of an aristocrat, the dreams of a broken soldier and the bloodlust of a beast.
In the great Temple of the Lord of Living and Dying, a young High Priestess completes her ritual sacrifices to keep the doors between life and death secure. She has no idea how this revolution could affect her temple and how it will change her life forever.
‘A crown of silver. A throne of gold. A sound of weeping. A scent of blood in the air. King Ruin. King of Dust. King of Shadows.’
This book is 100% for people who came out of ‘Game of Thrones’ more interested in the story of the Targaryens than anything else. It has all the trademarks of a dark fantasy, a brutal antihero, gallows humour, dragons…but there’s something else about this book. It’s just so well written. Seriously, it’s so rich and poetic and gorgeous. It’s a tale told by a poet with the mouth of a sailor and the voice of an angel, and it suits the tone of the book so well.
Take the character of Marith, a boy who looks as if he’s been carved from marble and storm clouds, but with an almost demonic killing frenzy. He’s not your classic anti-hero, not perfect in every crooked way; he has flaws that frequently take him to the edge of death, that make him unpredictable. You mourn for Marith, for the life and love that he could have had, for the addictions that plague him and for the lack of sympathy and help extended to him. I mean ‘cool motive, still murder’ is definitely a phrase that comes to mind and he’s not written in a way where you are expected to forgive him his crimes. I honestly felt at times as if we might be watching the end of the world…
Without spoiling much of the story I really loved how Smith Spark handled the story of the our dark hero’s lover. Through reading her sections you can entirely see how the character knows that falling in love with this person is a terrible idea, how they teeter between staying and leaving and yet, somehow, fall under their spell. So many times when reading fantasy novels, I find myself questioning why someone would stay with their despot lover, but this book definitely explored how people can become someone that they never knew they could be.
One thing that I know can make a lot of people uncomfortable whilst reading grimdark fantasy is an over-reliance on gendered violence. ‘A Court of Broken Knives’ seemed to be refreshingly free of this trope. I mean, every single person in this book is at severe risk of being knifed, but the danger of being decapitated by a dragon was higher than being raped. Thumbs up for that. For everyone who is concerned that it indicates a lack of general gory glory, have no fear, it’s bloody enough to make ‘Game of Thrones’ look a kids bed time story, it just decides to make everyone at risk of a gory death, not just women.
Also, the relationship between Orhan and Darath was so unbelievably cute. Established m/m romance in grimdark, that is treated respectfully? I did feel sad that it was a world where, whilst m/m relationships weren’t really frowned upon, a marriage between two high ranking Lords was considered impossible. It did mean that Orhan had to be ostensibly in a loveless sham marriage where neither he nor his wife was happy. But, to be honest, I don’t think there was a happy marriage in the entire book, so it wasn’t entirely out of pattern. The story is young and dark, who knows what is going to happen.
As mentioned earlier in the review, this book is one of my absolute favourites of the year so far. It is just so irreverent but evocative, poetic but also blunt and gory, filled with gorgeous prose and enough cursing to make a soldier blush. I can’t believe I’m going to have to wait ‘who-knows-how-long’ for book two. I can’t wait that long to see how my favourite royally makes a mess of everything.
‘A Court of Broken Knives’ it out on the 29th of June (tomorrow) from the wonderful people over at Harper Voyager, and I know there are some beautiful signed copies available at Goldsboro Books *wink wink*.
Many many thanks to Harper Voyager Books for a copy in return for an honest review. It was a pleasure to read.
March 5, 2018
The Plot
On the orders of nobleman Orhan Emmereth, a group of mercenaries are marching across the desert to reach the city of Sorlost, made vulnerable by years of decadence and excess. Once there, they are to kill the Emperor and all who support him. The company are men who are there to get the job done and get paid – however, one amongst their number has a checkered past, and enjoys killing rather more than the rest of them.
Characters
Orhan – Our chief schemer, he is a noble man of a major house torn between his duties. He sees that the empire has grown so decadent that it has become ripe for invasion, so he devises a coup in order to build his idea of a stronger, better empire.
Tobias – The sergeant of the mercenaries. A savvy man who knows his trade and understands his men. He’s more of an everyman than the other characters, and he’s smart enough to make logical decisions based on his current circumstances.
Marith – A recent recruit to the band of mercenaries, he is a dark and tormented character, alternating between states of bloodlust, self destruction and neediness.
Thalia – A high priestess, selected by chance in a brutal religion where human sacrifice is commonplace.
My Thoughts
First and foremost, I’m going to need to talk about the quality of the prose in this novel and how divisive it will be for some readers. One thing that I find irks some people and delights others is when they expect one thing and are met with something else. For many fantasy readers, the prose is a vehicle which delivers the story to them, and little else. It’s largely unobtrusive, but a particularly prettily worded sentence might stand out for them once in a while.
Not so here.
In The Court of Broken Knives, Spark’s literary voice is so strong and distinct that it’s almost a character in its own right. This prose is the prose of literary fiction, and personally I found it to be a daring move on Spark’s part and exciting change from the usual fare. Think of unique voices in fiction like that of Cormac McCarthy and you’re heading down the right road. It may sound trite if I say that the author is painting with words, but it’s very much the case. There are many short punchy sentences, as well as use of repetition and rewording as characters process the horrific events that are happening to them and the world they inhabit. It’s beautiful and harrowing, and I loved all the ways in which my emotions were toyed with through simple word choice. However, there’s a chance that this won’t be your cup of tea and for that reason I strongly advise checking out the sample on Amazon. There are a few chapters included and it will certainly be enough to decide if this is going to enchant you or drive you up the wall. Highly stylized prose is not something that everyone enjoys, and there’s no right or wrong in that.
While on the surface it feels like the plot is just a loose series of things happening to the characters, it ends up building on itself quite nicely while staying unpredictable. There aren’t a bunch of well defined arcs and it isn’t neat and tidy, but it’s organic and I found it satisfying, particularly the scenes in which the coup begins. Our characters don’t change and grow so much as they adapt to new circumstances and information. Not that there aren’t some attempts to change on the parts of some characters, but these attempts are largely unsuccessful. The characters themselves are deep and complex but not particularly likeable, which some readers might struggle with. Tobias is probably the character I liked the most, but even he was by no means a good or moral person. Marith is the most interesting. He’s an absolute mess of a person – psychotic, drug addicted and at times absolutely gleeful about killing, but Spark does a great job of making me feel both pity and disgust for him.
Overall, this was a grimdark novel that read very differently than most – I found that I appreciated the lack of overly detailed descriptions of unnecessary violence that can sometimes be a hallmark of the subgenre. LGBTQ+ readers and allies may be pleased to find a sensitively handled gay relationship. There’s also a lack of rape scenes throughout, which has become such a tired and overused trope in grimdark that it barely elicits a yawn from me these days, much less the horror it attempts to invoke. And yet The Court of Broken Knives manages to be every bit as bleak and grim as the best of them.
Spark may have been kidding around when she made her Twitter handle @queenofgrimdark, but she wasn’t wrong. I’ll be looking forward to book 2.
On the orders of nobleman Orhan Emmereth, a group of mercenaries are marching across the desert to reach the city of Sorlost, made vulnerable by years of decadence and excess. Once there, they are to kill the Emperor and all who support him. The company are men who are there to get the job done and get paid – however, one amongst their number has a checkered past, and enjoys killing rather more than the rest of them.
Characters
Orhan – Our chief schemer, he is a noble man of a major house torn between his duties. He sees that the empire has grown so decadent that it has become ripe for invasion, so he devises a coup in order to build his idea of a stronger, better empire.
Tobias – The sergeant of the mercenaries. A savvy man who knows his trade and understands his men. He’s more of an everyman than the other characters, and he’s smart enough to make logical decisions based on his current circumstances.
Marith – A recent recruit to the band of mercenaries, he is a dark and tormented character, alternating between states of bloodlust, self destruction and neediness.
Thalia – A high priestess, selected by chance in a brutal religion where human sacrifice is commonplace.
My Thoughts
First and foremost, I’m going to need to talk about the quality of the prose in this novel and how divisive it will be for some readers. One thing that I find irks some people and delights others is when they expect one thing and are met with something else. For many fantasy readers, the prose is a vehicle which delivers the story to them, and little else. It’s largely unobtrusive, but a particularly prettily worded sentence might stand out for them once in a while.
Not so here.
In The Court of Broken Knives, Spark’s literary voice is so strong and distinct that it’s almost a character in its own right. This prose is the prose of literary fiction, and personally I found it to be a daring move on Spark’s part and exciting change from the usual fare. Think of unique voices in fiction like that of Cormac McCarthy and you’re heading down the right road. It may sound trite if I say that the author is painting with words, but it’s very much the case. There are many short punchy sentences, as well as use of repetition and rewording as characters process the horrific events that are happening to them and the world they inhabit. It’s beautiful and harrowing, and I loved all the ways in which my emotions were toyed with through simple word choice. However, there’s a chance that this won’t be your cup of tea and for that reason I strongly advise checking out the sample on Amazon. There are a few chapters included and it will certainly be enough to decide if this is going to enchant you or drive you up the wall. Highly stylized prose is not something that everyone enjoys, and there’s no right or wrong in that.
While on the surface it feels like the plot is just a loose series of things happening to the characters, it ends up building on itself quite nicely while staying unpredictable. There aren’t a bunch of well defined arcs and it isn’t neat and tidy, but it’s organic and I found it satisfying, particularly the scenes in which the coup begins. Our characters don’t change and grow so much as they adapt to new circumstances and information. Not that there aren’t some attempts to change on the parts of some characters, but these attempts are largely unsuccessful. The characters themselves are deep and complex but not particularly likeable, which some readers might struggle with. Tobias is probably the character I liked the most, but even he was by no means a good or moral person. Marith is the most interesting. He’s an absolute mess of a person – psychotic, drug addicted and at times absolutely gleeful about killing, but Spark does a great job of making me feel both pity and disgust for him.
Overall, this was a grimdark novel that read very differently than most – I found that I appreciated the lack of overly detailed descriptions of unnecessary violence that can sometimes be a hallmark of the subgenre. LGBTQ+ readers and allies may be pleased to find a sensitively handled gay relationship. There’s also a lack of rape scenes throughout, which has become such a tired and overused trope in grimdark that it barely elicits a yawn from me these days, much less the horror it attempts to invoke. And yet The Court of Broken Knives manages to be every bit as bleak and grim as the best of them.
Spark may have been kidding around when she made her Twitter handle @queenofgrimdark, but she wasn’t wrong. I’ll be looking forward to book 2.
July 6, 2017
Full review: http://bohomind.com/the-court-of-brok...
One of the best fantasy books I have read since I have started blogging, The Court of Broken Knives (Empires of Dust #1) by Anna Smith Spark, is a poetic account of the struggle for existence centered around a handful of people caught in politics.
No, friends, it's not as simple as I made it sound.
The Court of Broken Knives is an example of labyrinthine plots and counterplots that might leave the unwary confused. But those who can keep their cool are going to treasure this book for the rest of their bloody lives.
Anna Smith Spark (love that name, it has a spark), who calls herself the Queen of Grimdark (and rightly so) introduces her world, theme, and characters, all together in an explosive chapter.
Knives.
Knives everywhere. Coming down like rain.
This has become one of my favorite first lines from a fantasy book. Beautiful, horrific, just like the entire journey of our never-quite-a-hero Marith.
Each character is different yet so similar in this book. All of them, irrespective of their race, color, profession (what a diverse culture!), have some darkness in them. However, some become accidental heroes, while others become pawns in the hands of unsuspected powers.
Thalia, the holiest woman in the 'richest empire the world has seen', Sorlost or the 'Golden City', has hands almost as bloody and scarred as the mercenaries she is destined to meet.
Marith is the classic anti-hero who can stir up the coldest heart with his struggle with the ill-famed Hatha addiction, his grim past full of treachery and tribulations.
Orhan Emmereth, a man torn between his loyalty to the state and to the throne, has the foresight to anticipate an invasion the empire might not be able to withstand. He gets involved in a plan that comes to fruition in a way unanticipated by him and changes his and the lives of all the key people in the novel.
'Desire and disgust' is the recurrent theme in the book, something all the main characters feel in so many different ways. Be it lovers like Thalia and Marith of Orhan and Darath, or the mercenaries seeking glory and fortune, or Landra looking for vengeance.
Everybody gets something they want but lose something in return. The cost of ambition, greed, pride, vanity, or even freedom, is hefty. I couldn't have dreamed of a better ending. Makes me want to reveal a spoiler. Don't worry, I won't.
A crown of silver. A throne of gold. A sound of weeping. A scent of blood in the air. King Ruin. King of Dust. King of Shadows.
One of my favorite lines, this wraps up the pitiful life of Marith so far. Wonder how he fares in the next book. Does he rise to greatness with Thalia's love strengthening him against his demons? Or does he succumb to them?
A veil of grimdark thrust upon this book suits the glorious narrative and the stark beauty of the landscape. The prose is sharp, yet lyrical. The author skillfully changes POV and tenses, uses sentence fragments to create powerful scenes, and shifts between the bloody horror and tender romance like a dream.
Yes. Dream. The Court of Broken Knives is a concatenation of dreams and nightmares of the narrators through whose eyes we observe a great story unravels itself. It's as terrible and beautiful as the dragon unfurling its wings. The events occur with the same menace and unpredictability as the dragons that haunt the desert sky.
Five Bohostars for amazingly quotable lyrical narrative, memorable characters, and a shockingly bleak and dry world.
Anna has great taste in shoes. Go check her website if you don't trust me. Can't have the shoes so bought the book. This review is based on the published Kindle copy proudly owned by me. :)
One of the best fantasy books I have read since I have started blogging, The Court of Broken Knives (Empires of Dust #1) by Anna Smith Spark, is a poetic account of the struggle for existence centered around a handful of people caught in politics.
No, friends, it's not as simple as I made it sound.
The Court of Broken Knives is an example of labyrinthine plots and counterplots that might leave the unwary confused. But those who can keep their cool are going to treasure this book for the rest of their bloody lives.
Anna Smith Spark (love that name, it has a spark), who calls herself the Queen of Grimdark (and rightly so) introduces her world, theme, and characters, all together in an explosive chapter.
Knives.
Knives everywhere. Coming down like rain.
This has become one of my favorite first lines from a fantasy book. Beautiful, horrific, just like the entire journey of our never-quite-a-hero Marith.
Each character is different yet so similar in this book. All of them, irrespective of their race, color, profession (what a diverse culture!), have some darkness in them. However, some become accidental heroes, while others become pawns in the hands of unsuspected powers.
Thalia, the holiest woman in the 'richest empire the world has seen', Sorlost or the 'Golden City', has hands almost as bloody and scarred as the mercenaries she is destined to meet.
Marith is the classic anti-hero who can stir up the coldest heart with his struggle with the ill-famed Hatha addiction, his grim past full of treachery and tribulations.
Orhan Emmereth, a man torn between his loyalty to the state and to the throne, has the foresight to anticipate an invasion the empire might not be able to withstand. He gets involved in a plan that comes to fruition in a way unanticipated by him and changes his and the lives of all the key people in the novel.
'Desire and disgust' is the recurrent theme in the book, something all the main characters feel in so many different ways. Be it lovers like Thalia and Marith of Orhan and Darath, or the mercenaries seeking glory and fortune, or Landra looking for vengeance.
Everybody gets something they want but lose something in return. The cost of ambition, greed, pride, vanity, or even freedom, is hefty. I couldn't have dreamed of a better ending. Makes me want to reveal a spoiler. Don't worry, I won't.
A crown of silver. A throne of gold. A sound of weeping. A scent of blood in the air. King Ruin. King of Dust. King of Shadows.
One of my favorite lines, this wraps up the pitiful life of Marith so far. Wonder how he fares in the next book. Does he rise to greatness with Thalia's love strengthening him against his demons? Or does he succumb to them?
A veil of grimdark thrust upon this book suits the glorious narrative and the stark beauty of the landscape. The prose is sharp, yet lyrical. The author skillfully changes POV and tenses, uses sentence fragments to create powerful scenes, and shifts between the bloody horror and tender romance like a dream.
Yes. Dream. The Court of Broken Knives is a concatenation of dreams and nightmares of the narrators through whose eyes we observe a great story unravels itself. It's as terrible and beautiful as the dragon unfurling its wings. The events occur with the same menace and unpredictability as the dragons that haunt the desert sky.
Five Bohostars for amazingly quotable lyrical narrative, memorable characters, and a shockingly bleak and dry world.
Anna has great taste in shoes. Go check her website if you don't trust me. Can't have the shoes so bought the book. This review is based on the published Kindle copy proudly owned by me. :)
June 14, 2022
This wasn’t a book I had any high expectations for, but I found it a surprisingly compelling read.
The Court of Broken Knives is a grimdark story with a lot of political intrigue, following four perspective characters: Thalia the High Priestess, Marith the tortured anti-hero, Tobias the weary mercenary, and Orhan the conflicted bureaucrat.
The first thing of note is the writing. It feels raw and visceral in its well-constructed lack of stability. Short phrases, sentences, emotions, that give a sense of urgency. Some descriptions and metaphors don’t seem logical or sensical, but as part of the whole, they provide a certain atmosphere to sketch the scene. It shifts between tenses and narrative perspectives from chapter to chapter. This is a style that definitely won’t be for everyone, but it was the first thing that caught my attention and kept me reading.
The book is divided into three parts, each continuing the overall story while feeling like distinct sections with loosely defined beginnings and endings. My favourite section was easily Part One. It introduced the four characters and chronicled a mercenary company, including Tobias and Marith, hired by conspiring ministers to overthrow the current Emperor. Marith is a fascinating character — his many secrets and tortured disposition make him an intriguing character to follow. The writing in his perspective segments also feels quite unhinged, reflecting his mental state. He feels like an insane version of the Bloody Nine at times. Discovering more about Marith and his insanity in this section were some of my favourite parts of the book.
Orhan is one of the Emperor’s ministers, who wants to return the Empire to its former glory and help its people by restoring its greatness. He is an interesting character, a mess of hypocrisies and justifications for actions he feels are necessary surrounding truly well-meaning intentions. Tobias feels like the regular world-weary mercenary archetype, so I don’t have much to say about him — he had relatively fewer perspective chapters and how he evolves in the future should be interesting. Thalia was by far my least favourite of the four central characters. Her sections were in first person, and they occasionally felt awkward sandwiched between the other chapters. She didn’t have any conflict compelling enough to follow, and was involved in my least favourite aspect of this book.
Part Two was my least favourite of three by some margin, especially after the unhinged bloodbath, both literally and figuratively, that was the prior section. It introduced an instant love romantic subplot that halted my growing investment in the story with how awfully it was established. It occupied a stretch of some chapters that I didn’t enjoy, as it felt like it hindered certain character development. As the book progressed, I became increasingly okay with how the romance was portrayed — it was less of an actual loving relationship that spontaneously appeared and more of two broken, unhinged characters who clung to each other as a superficial symbol in denial of their growing insanity, a reiteration of the book’s prevalent theme — the irrevocable intertwining of disgust and desire, desire and disgust. This became evident in Part Three, but I still consider how it was founded and dealt with in Part Two to be not well-done at all.
The final part managed to recapture my interest and took the story in some unexpected directions, especially for Marith as a character. I’m very interested to see how this will play out now — this isn’t a self-contained book by any means, so there are many elements that await resolution from the sequels. Overall, it’s a solid, compelling first book that has some fascinating characters, a decently sketched world, and distinct, engaging writing, but brought down from being amazing by a few uninteresting perspectives and chapters and the initial romantic aspect being fumbled.
The Court of Broken Knives is a grimdark story with a lot of political intrigue, following four perspective characters: Thalia the High Priestess, Marith the tortured anti-hero, Tobias the weary mercenary, and Orhan the conflicted bureaucrat.
The first thing of note is the writing. It feels raw and visceral in its well-constructed lack of stability. Short phrases, sentences, emotions, that give a sense of urgency. Some descriptions and metaphors don’t seem logical or sensical, but as part of the whole, they provide a certain atmosphere to sketch the scene. It shifts between tenses and narrative perspectives from chapter to chapter. This is a style that definitely won’t be for everyone, but it was the first thing that caught my attention and kept me reading.
The book is divided into three parts, each continuing the overall story while feeling like distinct sections with loosely defined beginnings and endings. My favourite section was easily Part One. It introduced the four characters and chronicled a mercenary company, including Tobias and Marith, hired by conspiring ministers to overthrow the current Emperor. Marith is a fascinating character — his many secrets and tortured disposition make him an intriguing character to follow. The writing in his perspective segments also feels quite unhinged, reflecting his mental state. He feels like an insane version of the Bloody Nine at times. Discovering more about Marith and his insanity in this section were some of my favourite parts of the book.
Orhan is one of the Emperor’s ministers, who wants to return the Empire to its former glory and help its people by restoring its greatness. He is an interesting character, a mess of hypocrisies and justifications for actions he feels are necessary surrounding truly well-meaning intentions. Tobias feels like the regular world-weary mercenary archetype, so I don’t have much to say about him — he had relatively fewer perspective chapters and how he evolves in the future should be interesting. Thalia was by far my least favourite of the four central characters. Her sections were in first person, and they occasionally felt awkward sandwiched between the other chapters. She didn’t have any conflict compelling enough to follow, and was involved in my least favourite aspect of this book.
Part Two was my least favourite of three by some margin, especially after the unhinged bloodbath, both literally and figuratively, that was the prior section. It introduced an instant love romantic subplot that halted my growing investment in the story with how awfully it was established. It occupied a stretch of some chapters that I didn’t enjoy, as it felt like it hindered certain character development. As the book progressed, I became increasingly okay with how the romance was portrayed — it was less of an actual loving relationship that spontaneously appeared and more of two broken, unhinged characters who clung to each other as a superficial symbol in denial of their growing insanity, a reiteration of the book’s prevalent theme — the irrevocable intertwining of disgust and desire, desire and disgust. This became evident in Part Three, but I still consider how it was founded and dealt with in Part Two to be not well-done at all.
The final part managed to recapture my interest and took the story in some unexpected directions, especially for Marith as a character. I’m very interested to see how this will play out now — this isn’t a self-contained book by any means, so there are many elements that await resolution from the sequels. Overall, it’s a solid, compelling first book that has some fascinating characters, a decently sketched world, and distinct, engaging writing, but brought down from being amazing by a few uninteresting perspectives and chapters and the initial romantic aspect being fumbled.
July 18, 2017
OVERVIEW/ANALYSIS: ‘The Court of Broken Knives’ is the stunning debut to Anna Smith Spark’s ‘The Empires of Dust’ series. One of two Anna’s to be released in June 2017 (UK), by Harper Voyager, the story of ‘The Court of Broken Knives’ is outmatched only by the unique voice that tells it. Bold, beautiful, brutal, Smith-Spark lives up to her twitter handle @QueenofGrimdark whilst pushing the boundaries of storytelling amongst recent releases.
THE GOOD: The voice is strong in this one! Right from the start, as the reader, you’re drawn into a world by the power of the words used to describe it to you – but it’s not so much description, more a depth that brings it all to life. Both beautifully inventive as it is brutally evocative, the characters are morbidly mortal, dragged into a doomed destiny of a plot.
THE BAD: The voice is strong in this one! I know, I’ve already said that, but it’s true. You will either love this voice, or never quite grasp the sumptuous simplicity of what it’s saying. If you’ve looking for an a-to-b quest fantasy with paint by numbers characters and complexities, this book is not for you.
THE UGLY TRUTH: The voice is strong in this one? I know, I know, I know! I’m labouring a point, but it’s only fair that I give this book the credit that it’s due. Anna Smith Spark’s voice is equal parts mesmerising as it is magical. It’s more than epic – it’s operatic! But at the same time it has the distortion and drop tuning of a metal band in full force. The Court Of Broken Knives is cranked all the way to 11, and you’ll either be a fan for life, or not quite sure what’s going on.
What sounds like a relatively simple plot line (mercenary hand hired to assassinate an Emperor) turns into one of the most stunning imaginings of fantasy in recent times. Naturally, and not in the least because of the author’s twitter handle, this has earned the label of Grimdark (because who doesn’t love a label), but The Court Of Broken Knives is so much more than that. If I had to throw tags together in an effort to label this, it’d be Grand-Dire, for the sheer opulence of the story telling and the world itself, versus the stakes and the events set in motion.
The world Smith-Spark has woven – and I say woven, because building inspires thoughts of blocks, and The Court Of Broken Knives is a rich tapestry not levels of lego – is breath taking. Soul destroying at times, too. Yet, somehow, it comes crashing back to earth right when you need it to.
I will have to admit that this took me a moment or two to get used to. Actually, not a moment or two – a chapter of two, in fact.
I fell in love with the first chapter – the opening page in particular. You’ll know what I mean when you read it, but the language, the choice of wording, even the tempo…there’s something about it. A je ne sais quoi that will breed diehards by the thousands, but naysayers, too.
But as I reached the second chapter, I began to notice that I wasn’t grasping everything that the voice was trying to tell me. A sentence here, there, there and there. I was almost reading the words rather than reading what was going on. Now, let me be clear, this isn’t because the voice is speaking in a language that I didn’t understand, the words I knew, but as a reader who takes joy in simple pleasures and straight forward prose (e.g. Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames, and RJ Barker’s Age of Assassins, as examples from 2017, and of course my love of David Gemmell) I wasn’t fully appreciating what Anna was saying in the telling of this story.
So, I restarted.
Not once.
Twice.
And then I got it. Oh boy, I got it.
And it wasn’t just speaking to me. It was singing!
I must’ve only been 10 or so pages in when I restarted (note: I checked, it was page 11) but I’m glad I did. Once I had tuned myself in to the voice, I went from enjoying it, to being wrapped up in it.
And why was this?
Without overdoing it any more, it’s the voice! The sentence structure and wording will be new – dare I say unique – to many readers, and the shifts between first and third person will be staggering until you’re used to it.
Speaking of perspectives, the story is told through that of a quartet of diverse characters. A priestess, a politician, a veteran mercenary, and a seemingly-simple-yet-forever-suffering ranking soldier. The contrast between the two pairings allows for interplay and a comparison of human nature, that is both provocative as it is a pleasure to read and explore. For me, my favourite as is the norm, was the veteran, who I connected with. The priestess in particular allows for an eye-opening account of the perversities and providence in divinity, whilst the politician delves into the sheer determination of mortal will and the downfalls that come with it.
The Court Of Broken Knives is not for the faint hearted – both in terms of themes and the style of delivery. It’s a hard book to put down and come back to, potentially another reason why I had to restart, as I was so caught up with work at time of beginning reading. But, I felt that’s because it’s meant to be devoured. Not a page turner, but a page burner. Once you get into the flow of things, you’ve dragged along, sucked down into the depths, and when you come back up you’ll be gasping for air.
CONCLUSION: I realise that this review is thin on the ground in terms of detail on the plot or the characters – but you can get that from the blurb. This review is here to tell you what the blurb won’t. That this book really is different. It will make you think differently. It will challenge you.
Recommended for fans of Mark Lawrence and R. Scott Bakker, I can understand why, but by the time you’ve finished, you’ll realise there isn’t another author quite like Anna Smith Spark. Not just a new voice. But a different voice.
THE GOOD: The voice is strong in this one! Right from the start, as the reader, you’re drawn into a world by the power of the words used to describe it to you – but it’s not so much description, more a depth that brings it all to life. Both beautifully inventive as it is brutally evocative, the characters are morbidly mortal, dragged into a doomed destiny of a plot.
THE BAD: The voice is strong in this one! I know, I’ve already said that, but it’s true. You will either love this voice, or never quite grasp the sumptuous simplicity of what it’s saying. If you’ve looking for an a-to-b quest fantasy with paint by numbers characters and complexities, this book is not for you.
THE UGLY TRUTH: The voice is strong in this one? I know, I know, I know! I’m labouring a point, but it’s only fair that I give this book the credit that it’s due. Anna Smith Spark’s voice is equal parts mesmerising as it is magical. It’s more than epic – it’s operatic! But at the same time it has the distortion and drop tuning of a metal band in full force. The Court Of Broken Knives is cranked all the way to 11, and you’ll either be a fan for life, or not quite sure what’s going on.
What sounds like a relatively simple plot line (mercenary hand hired to assassinate an Emperor) turns into one of the most stunning imaginings of fantasy in recent times. Naturally, and not in the least because of the author’s twitter handle, this has earned the label of Grimdark (because who doesn’t love a label), but The Court Of Broken Knives is so much more than that. If I had to throw tags together in an effort to label this, it’d be Grand-Dire, for the sheer opulence of the story telling and the world itself, versus the stakes and the events set in motion.
The world Smith-Spark has woven – and I say woven, because building inspires thoughts of blocks, and The Court Of Broken Knives is a rich tapestry not levels of lego – is breath taking. Soul destroying at times, too. Yet, somehow, it comes crashing back to earth right when you need it to.
I will have to admit that this took me a moment or two to get used to. Actually, not a moment or two – a chapter of two, in fact.
I fell in love with the first chapter – the opening page in particular. You’ll know what I mean when you read it, but the language, the choice of wording, even the tempo…there’s something about it. A je ne sais quoi that will breed diehards by the thousands, but naysayers, too.
But as I reached the second chapter, I began to notice that I wasn’t grasping everything that the voice was trying to tell me. A sentence here, there, there and there. I was almost reading the words rather than reading what was going on. Now, let me be clear, this isn’t because the voice is speaking in a language that I didn’t understand, the words I knew, but as a reader who takes joy in simple pleasures and straight forward prose (e.g. Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames, and RJ Barker’s Age of Assassins, as examples from 2017, and of course my love of David Gemmell) I wasn’t fully appreciating what Anna was saying in the telling of this story.
So, I restarted.
Not once.
Twice.
And then I got it. Oh boy, I got it.
And it wasn’t just speaking to me. It was singing!
I must’ve only been 10 or so pages in when I restarted (note: I checked, it was page 11) but I’m glad I did. Once I had tuned myself in to the voice, I went from enjoying it, to being wrapped up in it.
And why was this?
Without overdoing it any more, it’s the voice! The sentence structure and wording will be new – dare I say unique – to many readers, and the shifts between first and third person will be staggering until you’re used to it.
Speaking of perspectives, the story is told through that of a quartet of diverse characters. A priestess, a politician, a veteran mercenary, and a seemingly-simple-yet-forever-suffering ranking soldier. The contrast between the two pairings allows for interplay and a comparison of human nature, that is both provocative as it is a pleasure to read and explore. For me, my favourite as is the norm, was the veteran, who I connected with. The priestess in particular allows for an eye-opening account of the perversities and providence in divinity, whilst the politician delves into the sheer determination of mortal will and the downfalls that come with it.
The Court Of Broken Knives is not for the faint hearted – both in terms of themes and the style of delivery. It’s a hard book to put down and come back to, potentially another reason why I had to restart, as I was so caught up with work at time of beginning reading. But, I felt that’s because it’s meant to be devoured. Not a page turner, but a page burner. Once you get into the flow of things, you’ve dragged along, sucked down into the depths, and when you come back up you’ll be gasping for air.
CONCLUSION: I realise that this review is thin on the ground in terms of detail on the plot or the characters – but you can get that from the blurb. This review is here to tell you what the blurb won’t. That this book really is different. It will make you think differently. It will challenge you.
Recommended for fans of Mark Lawrence and R. Scott Bakker, I can understand why, but by the time you’ve finished, you’ll realise there isn’t another author quite like Anna Smith Spark. Not just a new voice. But a different voice.
February 11, 2019
Nothing is pointless, as long as one is alive.
For being a grimdark fantasy novel, this was surprisingly optimistic. Well, if you can look past the whole "death and all demons" parts.
Why we march and why we die,
And what life means...it's all a lie.
Death! Death! Death!
Yeah, that kinda dampens the mood a little.
I really enjoyed this. At first, the writing was somewhat difficult to get into, particularly the first chapter, but once I got into it, it flowed amazingly well and painted quite an enrapturing image. It was scenic and epic and I loved it entirely. (My only qualm with this being that Thalia's 1st person perspective every once in a while was jarring and didn't feel entirely necessary, but was well-written nonetheless.)
Amrath and the lore was probably one of the coolest things I've ever read. This gave me the strongest Game of Thrones vibes in the world, mixed with a little bit of Six of Crows of all things as well. It has a little something for everyone who likes fantasy: political intrigue, court squabbling, epic battles, dark anti-heroes, unreliable narrators, and mysterious pretty bois. Gosh, this was great.
The main characters Marith, Thalia, Orhan and Tobias were all absolutely great, believable people with distinct personalities and positions in the plot. The representation was pretty great too, as Orhan was gay and Marith was bisexual, but wasn't a flippant sex-addict like a lot of bi rep seems to be. Their relationships with their respective partners read like real relationships, not pandering, and I really liked them.
Also, even though this is very much adult (lots and LOTS of blood), it didn't have sex scenes, which was extremely appreciated, because I really don't like reading sex scenes and will now and forever have Empire of Storms war flashbacks whenever fantasy turns into erotica.
The themes of death and dying, like I said, were actually strangely optimistic. Especially on the part of Thalia. Marith was darker (and has some kind of issue that turns him into a psychotic murderer willing and able to destroy literally anything, which was kinda rad tbh). Thalia, though having her own demons, wasn't swept under depressive behavior like Marith was.
It was just so good.
The world is a good place. Even with pain in it. Even with death.
October 16, 2017
Listened to this on Audible. Five easy stars to both the story and the dual actress/actor narration (unusual but I loved it. Worked very well imho).
I've heard tales of this story/writing style being marmite, love/hate etc. etc. Well I hate marmite, but I ferkin' loved this book, its unique narrative, the prose and the narration (as mentioned above).
There wasn't a character by the end that I wanted to root for. They'd all done terrible things. All of them! And yet... And yet I found myself laughing at them still. I found myself worrying for them and backing them. Why? Because Anna Smith Spark made me! Her story telling is fabulous. Sacrifices to betrayals, dragon attacks to drinking in a tavern. It all comes across as a tale told about real people. They make shit decisions, they make poor choices, they do horrific things to save themselves and - some - just for the fun of it. But they come across as real. They have emotions and mood swings and vices and they suck you into their world.
Worldbuilding: Huge tick. Worked very well and was believable for me.
Characters: Huge tick once again.
Action: Oh fuck yes!
Inventive curses: Lots.
Prose: Winner winner chicken dinner.
Magic: Brutal.
Grimdark: She's the Queen of.
I could gush all night about this, one of my favourite reads (listens) ever. Seriously. Anna is up there - for me - with Steven Erikson. I shit you not.
Buy it. Prepare -with an open mind - for the unusual delivery and then rejoice when you realise how well it works. Enjoy it. Think about it. Enjoy it all the more for thinking about it, over and over. And shout about it!
I'll stop now, but gods and shit and deamons and blood, it's ferkin' stunning work!
JP
I've heard tales of this story/writing style being marmite, love/hate etc. etc. Well I hate marmite, but I ferkin' loved this book, its unique narrative, the prose and the narration (as mentioned above).
There wasn't a character by the end that I wanted to root for. They'd all done terrible things. All of them! And yet... And yet I found myself laughing at them still. I found myself worrying for them and backing them. Why? Because Anna Smith Spark made me! Her story telling is fabulous. Sacrifices to betrayals, dragon attacks to drinking in a tavern. It all comes across as a tale told about real people. They make shit decisions, they make poor choices, they do horrific things to save themselves and - some - just for the fun of it. But they come across as real. They have emotions and mood swings and vices and they suck you into their world.
Worldbuilding: Huge tick. Worked very well and was believable for me.
Characters: Huge tick once again.
Action: Oh fuck yes!
Inventive curses: Lots.
Prose: Winner winner chicken dinner.
Magic: Brutal.
Grimdark: She's the Queen of.
I could gush all night about this, one of my favourite reads (listens) ever. Seriously. Anna is up there - for me - with Steven Erikson. I shit you not.
Buy it. Prepare -with an open mind - for the unusual delivery and then rejoice when you realise how well it works. Enjoy it. Think about it. Enjoy it all the more for thinking about it, over and over. And shout about it!
I'll stop now, but gods and shit and deamons and blood, it's ferkin' stunning work!
JP
March 27, 2019
A series of exquisite, lyrical vignettes linked by a seemingly simple plot. The unique voice means you will either love it or loathe it, and the same very much goes for Marith, the main protagonist. There is little of softness or compassion in this novel, and the characters are as brutal and beautiful as the city of Sorlost.
April 29, 2018
"This is Sorlost, the eternal, the Golden City. The most beautiful, the first, the last. The undying. The unconquered. The unconquerable.
The mummified heart of an empire of dust and desert villages, half forgotten by half the world."
* *
2 / 5
I read quite a few rave reviews for The Court of Broken Knives: it's a grimdark novel featuring battles and gods and guts and glory. It seemed to tout all the elements that I love in a fantasy series: drama, assassins, different factions and a cheeky bit of political skulduggery, and, most of all, epicness. Unfortunately, I didn't really get into The Court of Broken Knives. Most of it's flaws - too long, a bit verbose, weird writing style - can be attributed to being a debut novel or my own personal preference (because after Flame in the Mist I am so very done with short dramatic sentences). So maybe it was just preference, but I just was not engaged by this book.
Death is a bad thing. What a profound man you are, Orhan Emmereth
Briefly, there's a city, Solost. Solost, a city of gold and dreams and fortune, no longer. The Emperor of Solost is a weak man and his inferiors have decided to act. Enter Orhan Emmereth who hires a mercenary troop to sort out the perceived problem the old-fashioned way - cold, bloody murder with just a hint of magic. It's a solid fantasy plot and one that, in theory, I had no problem with. In execution, however, we didn't quite see eye to eye.
Before anyone accuses me of "not getting" Grimdark, I'm aware that half the point is for everyone to be utterly despicable. But there's a difference between being morally grey and just being straight up disgusting that, for me, Spark didn't manage to straddle. Unfortunately, I hated everyone, which is quite a feat considering how many points of view there are. I've loved Joe Abercrombie's Shattered Sea trilogy; the characters in them are morally heinous and they rape and pillage and do all sorts of disgusting things, but there's also cunning and wit and charm (not normally from the rapists, thankfully). It's not the blood or the violence either that I dislike, God knows Abercrombie is known for some rather brutal animal cruelty scenes.
Didn't really like sending the two of them out alone, Mr Grumpy and Mr Increasingly Frigging Weird, but there were things they needed that really couldn't wait. Clothes and whatnot. Things. And he could probably trust Marith. Yeah?
A big part of it was the characters. For a good handful of pages I wasn't even sure who the main character was. Not a good start. Pro tip: it's Marith, a boy running with a mercenary band who's really a descendent of some sort important demon-man. This makes Marith very special and man does it go to his insolent, annoying little head. I couldn't find a single thing to like about him between his entitled attitude and murderous rages; the closest I got was pity regarding his drug problem. Who I did like was Tobias, Marith's commander. He's the kind of grimdark character that I like: gritty, realistic, has his regrets but doesn't dwell too much on them. Tobias is a well damn, everything's gone to shit, fuck it I'd better start running kind of man, and we didn't get nearly enough of his POV.
Then there's the High Priestess of Lord Tanis of the Living and Dying. When she appeared I thought things might pick up; after all, the woman kills children on the altar as a sacrifice to the gods, I mean, she's got to be interestingbeautiful Marith is. Oh, she thinks, he just murdered a bunch of people for no reason but maaaan those eyes it's like they're divine and my what luscious lips, and so forth. If a bunch of battle-scarred mercenaries told me a guy was bad news, I think I'd run no matter how cute his dimples were.
The darkness pressed on him, heavy and soft like falling snow. You look like what you are, boy. It was all the same, he realised, whether he looked into the dark of the room or into the dark of his own mind
The plot pacing was another point of issue for me. I have read and enjoyed fantasy epics - Brandon Sanderson is one of my favourite authors and he writes massive tomes - so the length itself wasn't the issue, it was just how it was used. I don't think it needed to be 400+ pages or, if it did, something should have happened that I cared about; I felt like things were happening but there was no obvious way for the novel to proceed. There was no goal, just events occurring. We also get the good ol' fantasy classic of the characters taking a months long trip across a desert.
After my recent experience with Flame in the Mist where. Every sentence. Had ridiculous. Use of. Dramatic effect. I was a bit gutted to start The Court of Broken Knives and to be confronted with:
Half-dead men lying in the filth. Screaming. A whole lot of things screaming. Impossible to tell who's who anymore. Mud and blood and shadows and that's it. Kill them! Kill them all! Keep killing until we're all dead.
It's not all written like this, but enough is. Spark does write a number of hilarious one liners though; there were a couple of times when I genuinely snorted aloud.
"Not sure I really feel like fucking someone who is part god and part suicidal drunk, you know"
I do feel like this has been quite a negative review and whilst, obviously, I think I am entitled to my opinions, quite a few others have found this book to be amazing. So take what I say with a pinch of salt. I do think Spark has promise as a writer and I'll probably try something else of hers. I would genuinely recommend The Court of Broken Knives to those who like lots of main characters, characters that are not meant to be liked in any respect, and the lovers of the. short. dramatic. sentence.
My thanks to Netgalley, the publisher, and the author for an ARC of this book.
Read this review and more on my blog: https://atlasrisingbooks.wordpress.co...
The mummified heart of an empire of dust and desert villages, half forgotten by half the world."
* *
2 / 5
I read quite a few rave reviews for The Court of Broken Knives: it's a grimdark novel featuring battles and gods and guts and glory. It seemed to tout all the elements that I love in a fantasy series: drama, assassins, different factions and a cheeky bit of political skulduggery, and, most of all, epicness. Unfortunately, I didn't really get into The Court of Broken Knives. Most of it's flaws - too long, a bit verbose, weird writing style - can be attributed to being a debut novel or my own personal preference (because after Flame in the Mist I am so very done with short dramatic sentences). So maybe it was just preference, but I just was not engaged by this book.
Death is a bad thing. What a profound man you are, Orhan Emmereth
Briefly, there's a city, Solost. Solost, a city of gold and dreams and fortune, no longer. The Emperor of Solost is a weak man and his inferiors have decided to act. Enter Orhan Emmereth who hires a mercenary troop to sort out the perceived problem the old-fashioned way - cold, bloody murder with just a hint of magic. It's a solid fantasy plot and one that, in theory, I had no problem with. In execution, however, we didn't quite see eye to eye.
Before anyone accuses me of "not getting" Grimdark, I'm aware that half the point is for everyone to be utterly despicable. But there's a difference between being morally grey and just being straight up disgusting that, for me, Spark didn't manage to straddle. Unfortunately, I hated everyone, which is quite a feat considering how many points of view there are. I've loved Joe Abercrombie's Shattered Sea trilogy; the characters in them are morally heinous and they rape and pillage and do all sorts of disgusting things, but there's also cunning and wit and charm (not normally from the rapists, thankfully). It's not the blood or the violence either that I dislike, God knows Abercrombie is known for some rather brutal animal cruelty scenes.
Didn't really like sending the two of them out alone, Mr Grumpy and Mr Increasingly Frigging Weird, but there were things they needed that really couldn't wait. Clothes and whatnot. Things. And he could probably trust Marith. Yeah?
A big part of it was the characters. For a good handful of pages I wasn't even sure who the main character was. Not a good start. Pro tip: it's Marith, a boy running with a mercenary band who's really a descendent of some sort important demon-man. This makes Marith very special and man does it go to his insolent, annoying little head. I couldn't find a single thing to like about him between his entitled attitude and murderous rages; the closest I got was pity regarding his drug problem. Who I did like was Tobias, Marith's commander. He's the kind of grimdark character that I like: gritty, realistic, has his regrets but doesn't dwell too much on them. Tobias is a well damn, everything's gone to shit, fuck it I'd better start running kind of man, and we didn't get nearly enough of his POV.
Then there's the High Priestess of Lord Tanis of the Living and Dying. When she appeared I thought things might pick up; after all, the woman kills children on the altar as a sacrifice to the gods, I mean, she's got to be interestingbeautiful Marith is. Oh, she thinks, he just murdered a bunch of people for no reason but maaaan those eyes it's like they're divine and my what luscious lips, and so forth. If a bunch of battle-scarred mercenaries told me a guy was bad news, I think I'd run no matter how cute his dimples were.
The darkness pressed on him, heavy and soft like falling snow. You look like what you are, boy. It was all the same, he realised, whether he looked into the dark of the room or into the dark of his own mind
The plot pacing was another point of issue for me. I have read and enjoyed fantasy epics - Brandon Sanderson is one of my favourite authors and he writes massive tomes - so the length itself wasn't the issue, it was just how it was used. I don't think it needed to be 400+ pages or, if it did, something should have happened that I cared about; I felt like things were happening but there was no obvious way for the novel to proceed. There was no goal, just events occurring. We also get the good ol' fantasy classic of the characters taking a months long trip across a desert.
After my recent experience with Flame in the Mist where. Every sentence. Had ridiculous. Use of. Dramatic effect. I was a bit gutted to start The Court of Broken Knives and to be confronted with:
Half-dead men lying in the filth. Screaming. A whole lot of things screaming. Impossible to tell who's who anymore. Mud and blood and shadows and that's it. Kill them! Kill them all! Keep killing until we're all dead.
It's not all written like this, but enough is. Spark does write a number of hilarious one liners though; there were a couple of times when I genuinely snorted aloud.
"Not sure I really feel like fucking someone who is part god and part suicidal drunk, you know"
I do feel like this has been quite a negative review and whilst, obviously, I think I am entitled to my opinions, quite a few others have found this book to be amazing. So take what I say with a pinch of salt. I do think Spark has promise as a writer and I'll probably try something else of hers. I would genuinely recommend The Court of Broken Knives to those who like lots of main characters, characters that are not meant to be liked in any respect, and the lovers of the. short. dramatic. sentence.
My thanks to Netgalley, the publisher, and the author for an ARC of this book.
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