The Phoenix Guards (1991) is a novel in the mode of The Three Musketeers. It’s set in Brust’s world of Dragaera, but almost a thousand years before the Vlad books. The Vlad books are hardboiled wisecracking first person, the Paarfi books are long-winded romantic omniscient. The Phoenix Guards is delightful. Four young (barely a hundred years old) Dragaerans travel to Dragaera City on the accession of the Phoenix Emperor Tortalik with the intention of taking up positions in the newly formed Phoenix Guards. They are of different Houses but they’re all young and enthusiastic, they love honor, adventure, duelling and swordplay. They share an immense zest for life. Khaavren is an honor-loving Tiassa, Tazendra is an impetuous Dzur, Aerich is a thoughtful Lyorn who likes crocheting, and Pel is a devious Yendi. They fight crime! And they have adventures! And the adventures are related by a historian who insists he is sticking to the facts, which does seem doubtful from time to time.
I think Paarfi’s style, as well as being infectious—an infection which I am endeavouring to the best of my ability to resist for the purposes of this article—is something people either love or hate. I love it. Give me chapter titles like “In which the author resorts to a stratagem to reveal the results of a stratagem” or “In which our friends realise with great pleasure that the situation has become hopeless” and I am happy all day. If you like the style this is a lighthearted adventure about four highspirited friends bantering and duelling their way into trouble and out of it again, and I recommend it highly. I read this before I read the Vlad books, and there are things about the world that were utterly opaque to me but I still thoroughly enjoyed it.
For those who pretend they have no objection to Spoilers, and on the general assumption the reader has done themselves the honor of reading the books…
So, having given us Vlad and alternated between novels in the main continuity and novels set earlier than Jhereg, and throwing everything into confusion with Brokedown Palace, I think it’s reasonable to say that nobody could have expected this Dumas pastiche. It isn’t a retelling of The Three Musketeers in Dragaera, it’s more something inspired by the concept of The Three Musketeers and Sabatini mixing with a solid fantasy world to come up with something totally original. This was Brust’s first book for Tor, though he continued to publish with Ace as well for a few more books.
As far as the world of Dragaera is concerned, it gives us another angle, and it tells us a lot about life before the Interregnum, when things Vlad takes for granted like revivification, psionic communication and teleportation were incredibly difficult. It’s a very different world, and yet it’s recognisably the same world, with the Houses, the Cycle, and glimpses of the science fictional explanations underlying the fantastic surface. Of all the Khaavren romances, The Phoenix Guards has the least historical relevance. The battle of Pepperfields, and the peace that Khaavren (“Lord Kav”) makes with the Easterners is the same battle that we see in Brokedown Palace, from an utterly different perspective. (Reading these two first made me think this was a lot more significant than it turns out to be.) We meet Adron, five hundred years before his famous rebellion and disaster, and Aliera is born—announced by Devera.
I go through the Vlad books like cookies, gobbling them as fast as I can, grabbing another as soon as I finish the one in my hand. Brokedown Palace is like a baked Alaska, hot and cold and once, and very puzzling. The Phoenix Guards is like a warm croissant with melted chocolate and strawberries, you can’t gulp it down like a cookie, you have to savour it, but it’s an utterly delicious confection.
Jo Walton is a science fiction and fantasy writer. She’s published eight novels, most recently Half a Crown and Lifelode, and two poetry collections. She reads a lot, and blogs about it here regularly. She comes from Wales but lives in Montreal where the food and books are more varied.
Jo,
“The Fight crime! And they have adventures!”
Hee.
The blurbs on one of the later Khaavren books (the newer trilogy) has something like “Old friends reunite and have adventures! New friends have adventures too!’
That makes me squeal every time I see it. It’s just exuberantly fun.
For a long while, to the time I stopped posting at rec.arts.sf.written and using Usenet in general, this was my signature:
[Upon a Dzurlord learning of the murder of a critic by a painter]
“And it was well done, too. I’d have done the same, only-”
“Yes?”
“I don’t paint.”
Great book.
I’ve often said that _The Phoenix Guards_ is the best Dumas translation out there. Except it isn’t really true–Dumas’ narrator is all about the deadpan snark, whereas Paarfi is much better company. And while Dumas’ characters tend to be types with occasional flashes of humanity, Brust couldn’t write a cardboard cutout if he tried.
You can tell I haven’t read any Paarfi lately because I’m using my normal syntax to discuss him. In my experience, channeling Paarfi is a nearly unavoidable pleasure.
I have a strong suspicion that magic wasn’t quite so difficult nor rare during this period as Paarfi portrays it. I think Paarfi doesn’t like magic, and rewrites his histories to downplay it.
(Two a’s in “Tortaalik”, btw.)
The Phoenix Guards and its sequels are some of the most enjoyable fantasy (or science fiction masquerading as fantasy) I’ve ever read. I love how Paarfi continually portrays exquisitely polite dialogue, whether between mortal enemies or close friends. Obviously he is an untrustworthy narrator, but the books are all the more delightful because of it.
On a more general note, I’ve really been enjoying the reviews of the series, and am considering trying to reread all of the books before the next one comes out. I think I’ve read the series twice but know I’ll get something new out of another reread.
Iain Banks’ latest has a conversation which reminds me distinctly of these books.
VERY MILD SPOILAGE FOLLOWS
Well then, what do you do sir?
I am a traveller. And you?
The same.
Indeed. You travel widely?
Very. You?
Oh, extraordinarily.
Do you travel to a purpose?
A series of purposes. Yourself?
Always with only one.
And what would that be?
Well, you must guess.
Must I?
Oh yes.
– and so on.
I remember when the Phoenix Guards first came out in paperback, back in college. There were three of us sharing an apartment, and one of us (I don’t even remember who now) bought a copy on a Friday afternoon. By Saturday noon all three of us had read the first chapter in that first copy and the other two had bought their own copy so that we didn’t have to wait one moment longer than necessary to read it. We all spent the weekend lounging around the apartment reading Paarfi. The best of times.
David: What an interesting thought. That ties nicely into something I’ve been thinking about Five Hundred Years After when he talks at such length about how amazing it was that Sethra teleported Aliera, when he must have been writing at a time (and for an audience) when people teleported themselves and each other as easy as boiled asparagus. Doesn’t like magic. Hmm. That might be why he’s chosen to write about the Interregnum, too.
I have been expecting this post, and, egad! I have found it!
This book has given me much joy. I was a fan of Dumas long before I read this book, but this is Dumas as done in the 3 Musketeers movie with Gene Kelly, with exhuberance and laughter and heart.
One of the things I have done is recommend this book to a couple of people who think fantasy is a low level of fiction.
“This was Brust’s first book for Tor, though he continued to publish with Ace as well for a few more books.”
Without further comment, I present an excerpt from _Phoenix_, of Vlad discussing musical agents with a colleague (pages 96-97 in the paperback original):
“Name some names.”
“Sure. There’s a woman named Aisse. I wouldn’t work with her, though.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “She never seems to know quite what she’s doing. And when she does, she never lets the musicians know. Word is she lies a lot, especially when she screws up.”
“Okay. Who else?”
“There’s a fellow named Phent who doesn’t lie quite as much, but he’s about as incompetent and he charges twice what everyone else does. He’s got a lock on the low-life places. They suit him.”
“I might need him. Where can I find him?”
“Number fourteen Fishmonger Street.”
“Okay, who else?”
“There’s Greenbough. He’s not too bad when he isn’t drunk. D’Rai will keep you working, but she’ll also get a hold on you and try to keep everything you play sounding the same. Most of the musicians I know don’t like that.”
“Blood of the goddess, Sticks, isn’t there anyone good in the business?”
“Not really. The best of the lot is an outfit run by three Easterners named Tomas, Oscar, and Ramon. They have South Adrilankha and a few of the better inns north of town.”