There Will be Blood...
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Ok. Before we talk about this book, let’s talk about another one.
The Blacktongue Thief, the 2021 debut fantasy by Christopher Buehlman, was a marvel. One of the best fantasy debuts I’ve ever read, it showcased Buehlman’s talents: astonishing worldbuilding making each page come alive with new information; a deeply disturbing sense of the grim and the horrific; a pitch-perfect sense of comedy that made it the funniest fantasy since Pratchett; a penchant for the poetic, the tragic and the soulful that was all the more powerful for its conjunction with the aforesaid humour; and a talent for linguistic playfulness that meant that each page was an etymological meal in itself, to be slowly devoured lest the book ends too quickly.
Now before this turns into a review of that (yeah yeah, I know, too late) I want you to understand how excited I was when I discovered that Buehlman’s writing roots are in horror, not fantasy (horror being my other favourite genre, my blood-soaked Watson to fantasy’s Holmes). The book I chose to introduce myself to his horror oeuvre was Between Two Fires, which on its front cover is described as an epic tale of medieval horror, leaving you in doubt as to his ambition and intent here.
Between Two Fires is set in 14th century France, currently being devastated by the plague. But behind the plague there are more sinister and unholy forces at work, and an odd trio of an orphaned young girl, a knight stripped of his lands and an alcoholic priest must traverse this country ripe with pestilence and monsters, both human and devilish, on a quest to save both themselves and, perhaps, the world.
The first thing to note is that any book with the bubonic plague in has an in-built advantage that this is one of the most fertile grounds for horror. The terror of a village waiting for the plague to hit, the random unfortunate events that bring said plague to its walls; the sheer despair as vast populations are wiped out: Buehlman mines all the potential of the Black Death to its upmost.
But this is a book of monsters as well as plague, and while it would be spoiling it to say much more on this, take it from me that there are some scenes in here that will fester in your very soul and linger there, grinning. Those of you who have read the Blacktongue Thief and enjoyed the very vivid scenes of goblins, Kraken and the like can be rest assured that the creature moments here are of a dark variety so unhinged and hellish that even a jaded horror veteran like myself had to take a moment to collect myself after certain sections.
Buehlman is not just a purveyor of the depraved though (though boy is he that too); he is a master of character, and relationships. The character of Thomas, the fallen knight with a tragic past, is a classic one: a man tempted to do bad desperately struggling to keep on the righteous path. His relationship with Delphine, the orphaned girl who becomes much more than that, is complicated but redemptive in all the best ways.
But perhaps the best moments of character come when we are introduced to minor characters who appear only briefly (often before being dispatched in various horrific ways). Buehlman has a talent for making these brief cameos seem very real, often heart-breaking so; his penchant for realistic dialogue of humour and soul immediately creates very real relationships with the most passing of people. In this respect, Buehlman can put himself up there with the true master of this, fantasy legend Robin Hobb.
We also need to talk about this book’s ambition. While the first half is very much a tour of depravity and faint hope across the plague-torn villages and towns of medieval France, the second half, or at least the last third, becomes… something else entirely. I won’t give anything away, but Buehlman has a masterplan here, a grand scheme, and things get very chaotic very quickly.
It’s at this point that you will know for sure if this book is for you. Those of you who like their epic novels a little more disciplined, or structured, may get lost at this point amid the chaos. But if, like me, this book already had its gore-stained hooks in you by this point, then you will see meaning and planning in the chaos, and it will sweep you along to the supremely ambitious finale, which Buehlman pulls of (just). And it’s at this point that you realise what this book has achieved; a masterful tale about the redemption and hope that can be found even amongst true horror that can rank among the greats covering this fertile narrative ground.
Do I like it as much The Blacktongue Thief? No. But that’s an unfair comparison, like criticising the Hobbit for not being the Lord of the Rings. But it left a mark on me, and broke my heart and warped my mind in so many places I was exhausted by the end in the best way, having completed a brimstone-scorched marathon with the scars to prove it.
So there we have it. Buehlman is a master of horror as well as fantasy.
Lucky bastard.
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