Review: Deadhouse Gates by Steven Erikson
Blurb:
In the vast dominion of Seven Cities, in the Holy Desert Raraku, the seer Sha'ik and her followers prepare for the long-prophesied uprising known as the Whirlwind. Unprecedented in size and savagery, this maelstrom of fanaticism and bloodlust will embroil the Malazan Empire in one of the bloodiest conflicts it has ever known, shaping destinies and giving birth to legends . . .
Set in a brilliantly realized world ravaged by dark, uncontrollable magic, Deadhouse Gates is a novel of war, intrigue and betrayal confirms Steven Eirkson as a storyteller of breathtaking skill, imagination and originality--a new master of epic fantasy.
Review:
Two books into Malazan, and it’s more than clear that this is a series that demands dedication. It demands your full attention to every detail. It demands reminders independent of the first readthrough. It’s intense, it’s heavy, and most prominently, it’s ballsy. Most authors won’t go to the second book of their grand epic series and say, “Okay, everything that happened in the first book? Yeah, they barely matter in this one, so just forget about them for a while.” But, with Deadhouse Gates, Steven Erikson did just that. And dammit, did he still manage to stick the landing.
A purge of the Malazan nobility is underway, and the survivors are sent to the mines of Seven Cities as slaves. A prophetess named Sha’ik is preparing to unleash her long-awaited uprising known as the Whirlwind. A daring cross-continental march of refugees from Seven Cities to the imperial capital is underway and is destined to become part of the legends of Seven Cities. And a former assassin sets out on perhaps his most daring mark yet. Though thousands of miles separate their stories, their tales of blood, sacrifice, and hardship will become part of the unforgettable histories of the Malazan Empire.
Much like the first book, Deadhouse Gates is almost impossible to distill into a few paragraphs. It is a story of the horrors of war and the struggle to survive against the greatest of odds. It is a story of gods and shadows, of immortals wracked with guilt and the mortals charged with subduing them. It is a story of ambition, greed, survival, duty, honor. It’s a story of so many things that, in another author’s hands, would crumble from the sheer weight of everything.
But not in Erikson’s hands. Deadhouse Gates is still, at times, an unwieldy book, but he weaves this tapestry masterfully in a way that, while remaining dense and confusing, is a bit more manageable than Gardens of the Moon. This is in part due to the character work, which is a bit tighter in focus than what we saw in Gardens, focusing more prominently on a select few characters and their quests: Felisin, the sister of Ganoes Paran of Gardens and of the Empress’s Adjunct Tavore; Duiker, an imperial historian accompanying the cross-continental march of refugees; Kalam, a former Claw of the Empress on a mission to assassinate her; and Icarium, an immortal warrior stripped of the memories of his destructive past. There are a few returning characters as well, namely Crokus and Apsalar, but the references to the first book are, for the most part, few and far between.
While halting the narrative threads of Gardens may sound like a poor decision on paper, in execution, it is done remarkably. The plot arcs for Felisin and Duiker carried this book and perfectly explored the roles of non-soldiers in a time of war. Felisin’s arc is all about the willingness to survive no matter the cost, no matter what must be done, while Duiker, having training in the arts of war but long since having cast himself from it, must bear witness to the harsh horrors of war as an outsider in a foreign land. These plot threads pull no punches—they are heavy, they are dark, they are sad, and, most importantly, they are compelling.
And that really encapsulates Deadhouse Gates as a whole. It is not afraid to show the horrors of war, rather than glorifying it. It’s not afraid to hit hard and often. Yes, it’s a whirlwind trying to follow every detail, and even a week after finishing the book, I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened. Admittedly, that’s not something that’s going to appeal to everyone. But, for me, withstanding all those heavy punches was ultimately worth it in the end.
Deadhouse Gates takes up the banner first lofted by Gardens of the Moon, and carries its weight masterfully. It’s heavy and ambitious, dark and bloody, but most importantly, it’s an imaginative tale with memorable characters that hits all the right emotional beats. This series sure as hell isn’t for everybody, but two books in, I’m thinking it’s definitely one for me.
