Some people are hard to kill. I don’t mean the moral decision to kill, but the difficulty in getting someone to die, who is stubbornly opposed to the idea. Some people are hard to kill because they are physically tough, some have one of those spirits that refuses to quit, and some are just plain durable.
So imagine how much more difficult it can be to kill someone, who is already dead but comes back anyway.
It was in the early days, before all the betrayals and family intrigues … OK, we always had those going on, but this was back in the days when we still imagined that we played by the rules. You couldn’t attempt to murder a sibling then, without at least feigning innocence, and alliance with genocidal maniacs was only allowed if the said monsters were friends of Oberon.
So, when word got out that someone or something was making its way through the halls of Castle Amber at night, killing members of the staff and generally hurting the castle’s reputation for fine dining and keeping folks safe from threats to their safety, the family decided it was time to take matters in hand. And, being expected to take the lead, I did so.
Oberon, as he commonly did, was traveling and away from Amber. Caine and Gerard were at sea and therefore also unavailable. Dierdre and Llewellen on a diplomatic mission for the Golden Circle, Brand, Random and Eric were out of the city for reasons not known to anyone else in the family, or if known not shared with me. That, of course, was also a reason for me to take charge; it would gall Eric no end if I could resolve things before he even heard about them … and give me no end of amusement if I could find a way to suggest he was somehow responsible for the problem. I was in those years when I was trying to show up everyone else, and convinced I looked good doing it. So it was that four princes and two princesses gathered for dinner, as we often did when we wanted to discuss issues of importance, and to imagine ourselves civilized.
The food was fine. The conversation, however, was wholly unsatisfying. It soon became apparent that none of us knew what was really going on, had any idea who or what was behind the attacks, and no one wanted to appear as helpless as we all felt.
After dinner, we all went to the library for drinks, and a second try at strategy. That fell apart as soon we chose our drinks. I watched as we chose different drinks, then different seats. Hell, we weren’t even looking at each other. I tried logic, first sitting with Benedict, who usually presented the best plan for dealing with any threat to Amber, but Benedict was even less talkative than usual. I followed with Julian, who was still angry with me for a prior disagreement, and he refused to even acknowledge my presence.
And so it went until I came to Fiona.
I knew something was about, when she smiled at my approach. Fiona and I never shared amusements or ideals, so a smile from her could only come at my cost. It also struck as strange that she seemed to be enjoying the present crisis. Was she its instigator, or if not, what was the source of her pleasure in this moment? I chose a drink, a seat, and a gambit.
“Hello Fiona”, I said. “You couldn’t just kill your enemies in a duel, like anyone else in the family?”
Fiona glared at me for a moment, then that smile returned as she realized – all too quickly – that I was just trying to draw her out.
“You play at things you do not understand, Corwin”, she answered. “As usual.
“I have no interest in your word games, and I must say I disapprove of your manners, and their lack.”
“I am not playing at game here” I protested, “but hunting the cause and source of our present threat. It is an elusive bird, truth, one which seems to be hidden by at least one of our princesses.”
Fiona smirked and replied, “Whereas wit is a bird that eludes the hand of rather too many princes.”
I shrugged. “Your disapproval concerns me even less than usual, Fi. All things considered.”
She tossed her head, red hair like a fall of flame. “Yet, perhaps it should. All things considered.”
I did things with my own eyebrows, emptied my glass, swung my boots down from the table, and headed for the door.
She chuckled, behind me.
I stopped, refrained from turning, and waited. Fiona could never resist showing the rest of us that she was a step ahead. Or pretending to be.
“You are wearing your blade,” she said. “Good.”
I went out, uttering no clever comments. With at least three murderous ghosts stalking Castle Amber, the time for such things was past.’
Hours passed, as I waited with blade drawn and senses wary, sitting in the hallway outside a row of rooms where I thought an appearance most likely by one or more of our homicidal specters.
I guessed wrong. The most dangerous thing to pass my way that night was an odor wafting from Julian’s room. I could pretend it was some feral scent from our nocturnal attackers, but I am sure it was simply the unwashed aroma of a pair of his dogs. In any case, I saw no spirits floating about, encountered no need to use my weapon, and generally felt like I was wasting my time.
Until I heard Flora scream. Down another hall, and far from my chosen station. Naturally. Or un-naturally. Whatever.
I felt damn foolish as I ran towards Flora’s room, hoping my missed guess would not be a costly mistake.
Fortunately, the volume of Flora’s shouts was not matched by actual peril. That is, Flora was not a passive screamer; when assailed by spirits coming at her, as she claimed, from within the walls, she not only cried for help but began throwing things at her attackers. It was hard to tell if any of them was some effective weapon, or the sheer volume of makeup, jewelry, hair care items and mirrors had thwarted their aggression. For all I knew, Flora had surprised them as much as they surprised her. There was no way to be sure. For the moment, we all relaxed in the discovery that our disembodied attackers seemed able to make mistakes, and we felt more confident that we ourselves were perhaps immune to their threat.
Then Bleys found Julian, more than half-dead in his quarters. Julian did not appear for breakfast, and Julian was the first to check his rooms.
For some reason, Julian had not worn his armor the previous night. That cost him. He had been attacked from behind, as was evident by the burn marks on his back. He had fought off his attackers, but his arms, back, and legs were badly burned. I wished I could ask Julian what he had seen, and how he had fought off his assailants, but he was in a coma from his injuries, or the same thing for practical purposes. Benedict saw to his wounds and set a guard to door, with instructions to call him the instant Julian awoke – or anything appeared that might be the spirit murderers coming to finish the job.
I was not friendly with Julian, but an attack on family trumped personal arguments. Besides, just as I stood to gain from Eric’s humiliation if I could solve a mystery he was not around to handle, so too I would suffer my own humiliation if I could not resolve the problem right in front of me – and if a brother prince died on my watch, especially one I was not close to, I could count on Eric making me pay for it. And Father had made it clear that he counted fratricide as unforgivable. Failing to protect a brother was guilt by omission, and I knew that no defense I could present would clear me unless Julian lived. And I resolved the mystery and destroyed the threat.
I spoke to Benedict again, and – while cryptic – his comments included suggestions on where I might try my next vigil, and when I might expect to meet my foes.
‘It was very late, or rather early, before one of the walls opened in a place where it should not have done, and something that was both silver and shadow joined me.
Grayswandir felt good in my hand as I put down what I was finished drinking anyway, and waited.
Patience, they say, is a chiefly a virtue for statues, but I’d made more than my share of mistakes, thus far, and blood is hell to get out of good rugs.
Came a whisper, out of darkness. “Corwin, is it time?”
A fight for my life, I expected. Temporal confusion from the spooks, I have to admit, I did not see coming.
“No, go back to sleep”, I tried. OK, not a brilliant strategy, but I was tired and didn’t expect the question anyway.
There was a moment of silence, then the forms began to take shape. I expected something, I don’t know, human-like and perhaps demonic. These were, after all, undead spirits seeking to kill the living. Nor was I wrong.
Not exactly.
The attackers swirled into the room like sentient fog, and quickly surrounded me. I suddenly realized something was behind me, taking more substantial shape, and – I felt dread rush up my spine – preparing to strike me the same it had attacked Julian.
Something like lightning flashed, and surprised me. Mostly because the lightning came from inside the room … from Grayswandir.
I jumped to my feet, swinging up Grayswandir with one arm as I threw the book behind me into the – face? – of my posterior assailant. I heard the book smack into something, which swore as if hurt, and I pivoted, putting my back against the wall while swinging my sword into a guard position.
That was a mistake.
The spirits, once the sword, stopped moving, resumed their attack, and I felt a crackle of something hot shoot past my head, striking the wall hard as if a crossbow bolt. Something else, like a burning lasso, wrapped my boots and tried to trip me. I hopped reflexively, brought my sword up again and swung it about me as if trying to burn cobwebs with a torch.
And shadows fled before me, and I was alone.
My book was on the floor, blackened. Damn. I watched lightning flicker and wondered if I would ever know what I fought, or why. Family politics seemed as tiresome as ever.
Three ghosts, Benedict had said, and had been on the brink of saying more ere his face had smoothed and he’d turned away.
Which meant he’d recognized the one he’d seen.
So had the lamplighter, before the ghost that slew him caught up with him and burned his skull bare, from within.
Coln had died, before that, and one of the cooks. Seven maids, or more by now, since.
Then they started on us. Flora had almost fallen to one, and then Julian. Almost.
We’re tough meat, we of Amber.
Speaking of meat, I found myself famished. Deciding between preparing for a second round with the spooks, alerting the rest of the family to my attack, and getting an early breakfast, the stomach spoke with the greatest authority. Besides, I was somehow sure the attack for the night was done, and I needed to think through what had just happened before I spoke to anyone else. If one of us was behind the attacks, I had no intention of giving out thoughts on how to make sure I was properly killed next time.
[ to be continued ]
Saturday, February 12, 2011
The Continued Chronicles of Amber – Updated Thoughts on Zelazny’s Unfinished Masterpiece
This article is a reprint of one I originally published in January 2010. I am reprinting here now, for two reasons. First, I have discovered that some of my original thoughts, specifically the ones surrounding “A Secret of Amber’, were hasty and incorrect. I’d like to revisit that story from a new and, I hope, wiser perspective. Also, I realized that I never wrote a promised third article on the last two short stories by Roger Zelazny. To get the perspective correct, I am reprinting the first two articles – with some revisions – and then the third will hopefully make sense in the proper context.
WARNING – This essay contains spoilers from the first ten books of the Chronicles of Amber, and speculates on the intentions of the late writer Roger Zelazny, had he written a third cycle.
In late 1991, Roger Zelazny published his tenth book in the Amber saga, 'Prince of Chaos'. The book completed the second five-book story arc in the series, the first five addressing Prince Corwin and the second five his son Merlin. The first five, originally published between 1970 and 1978, were originally considered collectively as the ‘Chronicles of Amber’, but when the second series started the first five became known as the Corwin Cycle. The second series, known as the Merlin Cycle, were originally published between 1985 and 1991, and continues where the first series left off, but with a different focus on events and characters. Most fans of the Chronicles prefer the first series over the second, for its complex imagery and character development, but generally anyone who reads the first book of the collection will make his way through them all. And the books hold up well to re-reading and time; there is a timeless quality to the Chronicles which makes it genuinely great literature, as I see it.
Roger Zelazny passed away on June 14, 1995, from kidney failure associated with cancer. The news shocked the literary world and his fans have for the most part never found someone worthy to fill Roger’s place. This is important, because of a crucial question – would the series continue? John Gregory Betancourt began a new series of Amber stories in 2002, but they failed both critically and in sales; I believe fans simply found the stories incomparable to Zelazny’s level. I think they failed for another reason, which I shall address in the next paragraph. There is also Roger’s reported statement that he did not want anyone else writing about Amber, which at first may seem a bit of selfish proprietorship but upon reflection I think there is some wisdom in it.
There are a number of reasons, however, why many fans believed that the Amber saga should continue. In the first place, a number of mysteries and questions were unresolved at the end of 'Prince of Chaos'. But more, Roger himself began to indicate he was headed towards a new series. After 'Prince of Chaos', Zelazny wrote six short stories between 1994 and 1995, of which five were linked in a clear continuation of events following the end of 'Prince of Chaos'. Those short stories introduced a new villain and chief conspirator, implied drastic changes in Merlin’s relationships with his friends, family, and even the prime forces of Order and Chaos, and reintroduced Corwin’s role in the supernatural conflict, now being acted out between Dworkin and Suhuy as agents for the Absolutes. It was certain that Zelazny planned to conclude his Chronicles with another series, once beginning where 'Prince of Chaos' ended. This, by the way, is one reason Betancourt’s series failed – he set his stories as a prequel, focusing on Oberon and frankly failing to show in that character the progenitor of Eric, Corwin, Benedict, and the other heroes of the family. The new series by Betancourt also demonstrated the difficulty which any author would face in continuing the story – the Zelazny touch is singular, priceless, and frankly inimitable. Even if an author got all the facts right as Roger would have had it, the style would be impossible to mimic perfectly. It would simply sound ‘off’, no matter who attempted the venture.
So then, are we doomed to never resolve the questions or to unravel the mysteries? Perhaps not. I am hardly able to read the mind of Roger Zelazny, but I can read a map, and he laid out his stories in a way which points to certain places to go. Like Merlin’s instructions to Ghostwheel when seeking the Logrus, certain indicators are laid out which tell you a general direction to turn, and so give a hint of the picture. This writing is an attempt to consider those hints. I must also admit, that while no one can ever replace Roger Zelazny, someone may yet do a decent job in completing the Amber saga with a proper conclusion.
I’d like to start by re-examining a common contention made by fans of the saga, that the Merlin Cycle is inferior to the Corwin Cycle. What strikes me about that claim, is the question of why that should so, assuming that is correct? Some fans have claimed that Roger knew he was dying and wanted to finish his books before he died. However, that claim has problems, including the fact that Zelazny lived for four years after 'Prince of Chaos' was published, and 'Prince of Chaos' left a number of important questions hanging, something Roger would not do if he just wanted to wrap up the saga. Also, on a personal note, I was once told that I was likely to die from my abdominal cancer, a form known as Pseudomyxoma Peritonei. The oncologist who said so was, it turned out, not up to speed on the treatments available for my form of cancer, but at the time it did give me a sharp recognition that my life was not unlimited, and that there were certain things I had better get done soon if I expected to complete them. My point there, is that at no time did I decide to rush off a sloppy job just so I could say it was done – if I was going to die soon, the last things I did were things I wanted to get done as perfect as I could. I would want my last work to be my best, not some sloppy effort. I can hardly imagine that Roger Zelazny would care less about what he considered his final work.
If this is true, however, it brings us back to ask why the Merlin Cycle appears to be less satisfying then the Corwin Cycle. Some of that comes down to Zelazny being fifteen years older when he started the 'Trumps of Doom' from when he began 'Nine Princes in Amber', but I also think it comes down to the fact that Zelazny wrote the Corwin Cycle, he knew there would be five books but was not sure whether the series would prove popular enough to continue the story. He had a lot of back-story, but could not know in advance how much demand there would be, to learn more about Grayswandir, about Dara, about Merlin and the Courts of Chaos, about the nature of the Pattern and the structure of his universe. When he started the Merlin Cycle, Zelazny knew that the market would bear not only the second series, but another after that, and I believe that from the start of the second series, Zelazny was thinking not just about books six through ten, but all the way through to the end of the saga. Look through the first ten books, and you will see any number of references or comments which point to doors for plot departures. While some of those were used, I believe, to counter any sense the reader had of omniscience in the story and to provide Roger the means to drop in plot surprises when he pleased, I also think they were there to be used in later parts of the story. Merlin’s decision to spare Corwin the first time they met in the Courts of Chaos, for example, foreshadowed Merlin’s determination to find and save his father in 'Prince of Chaos'.
And that is part of the dance, as well, the matter of sensing which themes and events are meant to reflect others in the story. Certainly Zelazny pointed this out in a number of places, that there is a balance and a certain continuity to things, a literary yin/yang balance if you will. Zelazny noted, for example that the royal family of Amber was in constant chaos, while the royal family of Chaos was serene. Therefore, we do well to consider the themes and lessons we have already seen in play during the first two cycles, as they will be repeated or continue in the same manner in the third series.
The first cycle focused on Amber. The second cycle focused on Chaos. The third, then, will focus on Shadow.
The first book of each cycle featured the imprisonment of the main character. So will the third.
The final book of each cycle saw the death of a King, and a new King. So will the third.
Corwin was betrayed by a love. So was Merlin. This will happen in the third cycle as well.
Corwin depended on his magic word, Grayswandir. Merlin depended on his shadow computer construct, Ghostwheel. The protagonist of the third cycle will depend on a similar artifact specially suited to his person.
In each of the first to cycles, the hero grew through the books from a self-centered person to a duty-focused person. So too, in the third cycle.
All through the books, we saw that people were not as they seemed. Carl Corey discovered he was really Prince Corwin, his buddy Ganelon turned out to be his father Oberon, Dara was Corwin’s lover and the mother of his son Merlin, but she never loved him and wanted Amber destroyed , Merlin’s best friend Luke tuned out to have attempted his murder several times, his girlfriend Julia became his nemesis Mask, and his brother Jurt, who spent his whole life trying to kill Merlin, in the end became his ally and helped him free Coral from the Pattern and the Logrus both. So moving into the last series, we should expect to not only see new characters added, but also see some surprises from the cast in place. Especially from Mandor, Fiona, and – wait for it – Bill Roth. Yep, good old “mortal” Bill, Corwin’s lawyer buddy from shadow Earth. There’s things to chew on regarding this guy, and more than a few suspicions. Consider how many times we see this guy throughout the stories. Bill Roth out-lives several major characters and turns up in all kinds of important places.
When Corwin got stabbed in 'Sign of the Unicorn' and was bleeding to death, who found him and got him to a hospital? Bill Roth.
Who helps Corwin with the disposal of his house on Earth in 'The Hand of Oberon'? Bill Roth.
Who wrote the terms of the Patterfall Treaty between Amber and Chaos? Bill Roth.
When Merlin decides to deal directly with whomever is trying to kill him in 'Trumps of Doom', who does he talk to besides Luke and (unknowingly) Nayda? Bill Roth.
Merlin talks again with Bill Roth in 'Sign of Chaos', he even runs across Bill Roth in the Hall of Mirrors, and when Merlin looks into Suhuy’s pool in 'Prince of Chaos' to consider candidates for the throne and people who are playing a role in that conflict, one of the people Merlin sees … is Bill Roth.
If Roger Zelazny had written a third series, Bill Roth would be a major surprise character, someone much different than he appeared to be all along. Some readers will remind me that Bill Roth is just a mortal human, but to that claim I would remind you that the claim came from Bill himself, and we have no proof whatsoever that Bill Roth is just what he claims. In the Merlin Cycle we discovered that Luke was not what he seemed, nor Coral, nor Julia. So Bill Roth, I strongly suspect, is a ringer.
Let’s go back to a nagging question that a lot of readers had in the Merlin Cycle: How, exactly, are we supposed to believe in Merlin as the new King of Chaos? Merlin himself admitted that he was far from qualified, yet at the end of 'Prince of Chaos' it sure looks like he got the job. Why, exactly? OK, I get that Merlin is from the royal houses of both Amber and Chaos, but again, why should this impress us? Where has he shown special qualities that would explain both the Unicorn and the Serpent wanting to sign up Merlin as their figurehead?
Merlin regards himself as a dime-a-dozen sorcerer, a decent but unexceptional swordsman, and an utter neuf in matters of state and politics. So how does he get the crown? We know from 'Prince of Chaos' that Merlin defeats both Dara and Mandor, and with the help of Ghostwheel he even seems to force the Logrus to accept his terms, after an earlier confrontation with the Pattern which seems to have been 90 percent luck on Merlin’s part, and a healthy assist from Luke for the rest of it. But Merlin does not accomplish this with skill or brilliant planning – he basically carries around the magic version of a handheld nuclear power plant and simply uses force until the obstacle is removed. And Merlin did not create or develop the Spikard – it was given to him! We find out from Bleys that there are nine of these rings, and it so happens that Merlin gets to carry out a second ring, which previously belonged to King Swayville and which was enchanted by Mandor and Dara in hopes of controlling Merlin. So OK, what are the odds , if you’re Mandor, say, that you come across an artifact of fantastic power, so much so that the bearer is all but unstoppable, and your thought is not only to not keep it for yourself, but hand it off to someone you plan to control, on the assumption that if things don’t work out you can still regain the upper hand? Isn’t it a lot more likely that you’d find more than one of those, so you had a power source of your own, should you need it? But of course, when Merlin dueled Mandor, he won. Odd. But I noticed something there.
Merlin mentioned that Mandor was fond of carrying around a group of small iron balls, which he used as an idiosyncratic magic aid. This is important for two reasons – one, in the short story “Hall of Mirrors”, Zelazny confirms that two of the spikards were turned into swords – Grayswandir and Werewindle, as a matter of fact. So there’s no reason that Mandor could not have transformed his spikard into three magic iron balls. And reason two, when Merlin abruptly confronts Mandor, he catches him by surprise. Mandor is led to believe that he is in control of Merlin through the spell on what he thinks is Merlin’s spikard, and in that section we never see Mandor use his magic iron balls. Guess Mandor picked a bad day to leave them at home or send them on an errand, huh?
By the way, in the short story “The Salesman’s Tale”, we find from Luke that he can summon Werewindle to him by way of a Trump. This lets us know that the spikards can be manipulated in the same way, and also oh by the way this answers a lot of questions about how Grayswandir shows up in various places seemingly on its own, such as Merlin being able to use in the land-underneath-Shadow in 'Knight of Shadow'. Being able to call up artifacts on cue makes things a lot more fluid in the third cycle, hmm?
Before moving on, I also found "The Salesman’s Tale" an important revelation on another score – Vialle’s ability for prophecy. One valid criticism of the first cycle was the limited value placed on the women in the stories, especially the Princesses of Amber. Zelazny’s discussion of Vialle’s prophetic powers is not only consistent with her legacy from Rebma, but a welcome acknowledgement of her value in her own right as a person – Queen in substance as well as name.
Next: What the Short Stories Contribute (Revised)
WARNING – This essay contains spoilers from the first ten books of the Chronicles of Amber, and speculates on the intentions of the late writer Roger Zelazny, had he written a third cycle.
In late 1991, Roger Zelazny published his tenth book in the Amber saga, 'Prince of Chaos'. The book completed the second five-book story arc in the series, the first five addressing Prince Corwin and the second five his son Merlin. The first five, originally published between 1970 and 1978, were originally considered collectively as the ‘Chronicles of Amber’, but when the second series started the first five became known as the Corwin Cycle. The second series, known as the Merlin Cycle, were originally published between 1985 and 1991, and continues where the first series left off, but with a different focus on events and characters. Most fans of the Chronicles prefer the first series over the second, for its complex imagery and character development, but generally anyone who reads the first book of the collection will make his way through them all. And the books hold up well to re-reading and time; there is a timeless quality to the Chronicles which makes it genuinely great literature, as I see it.
Roger Zelazny passed away on June 14, 1995, from kidney failure associated with cancer. The news shocked the literary world and his fans have for the most part never found someone worthy to fill Roger’s place. This is important, because of a crucial question – would the series continue? John Gregory Betancourt began a new series of Amber stories in 2002, but they failed both critically and in sales; I believe fans simply found the stories incomparable to Zelazny’s level. I think they failed for another reason, which I shall address in the next paragraph. There is also Roger’s reported statement that he did not want anyone else writing about Amber, which at first may seem a bit of selfish proprietorship but upon reflection I think there is some wisdom in it.
There are a number of reasons, however, why many fans believed that the Amber saga should continue. In the first place, a number of mysteries and questions were unresolved at the end of 'Prince of Chaos'. But more, Roger himself began to indicate he was headed towards a new series. After 'Prince of Chaos', Zelazny wrote six short stories between 1994 and 1995, of which five were linked in a clear continuation of events following the end of 'Prince of Chaos'. Those short stories introduced a new villain and chief conspirator, implied drastic changes in Merlin’s relationships with his friends, family, and even the prime forces of Order and Chaos, and reintroduced Corwin’s role in the supernatural conflict, now being acted out between Dworkin and Suhuy as agents for the Absolutes. It was certain that Zelazny planned to conclude his Chronicles with another series, once beginning where 'Prince of Chaos' ended. This, by the way, is one reason Betancourt’s series failed – he set his stories as a prequel, focusing on Oberon and frankly failing to show in that character the progenitor of Eric, Corwin, Benedict, and the other heroes of the family. The new series by Betancourt also demonstrated the difficulty which any author would face in continuing the story – the Zelazny touch is singular, priceless, and frankly inimitable. Even if an author got all the facts right as Roger would have had it, the style would be impossible to mimic perfectly. It would simply sound ‘off’, no matter who attempted the venture.
So then, are we doomed to never resolve the questions or to unravel the mysteries? Perhaps not. I am hardly able to read the mind of Roger Zelazny, but I can read a map, and he laid out his stories in a way which points to certain places to go. Like Merlin’s instructions to Ghostwheel when seeking the Logrus, certain indicators are laid out which tell you a general direction to turn, and so give a hint of the picture. This writing is an attempt to consider those hints. I must also admit, that while no one can ever replace Roger Zelazny, someone may yet do a decent job in completing the Amber saga with a proper conclusion.
I’d like to start by re-examining a common contention made by fans of the saga, that the Merlin Cycle is inferior to the Corwin Cycle. What strikes me about that claim, is the question of why that should so, assuming that is correct? Some fans have claimed that Roger knew he was dying and wanted to finish his books before he died. However, that claim has problems, including the fact that Zelazny lived for four years after 'Prince of Chaos' was published, and 'Prince of Chaos' left a number of important questions hanging, something Roger would not do if he just wanted to wrap up the saga. Also, on a personal note, I was once told that I was likely to die from my abdominal cancer, a form known as Pseudomyxoma Peritonei. The oncologist who said so was, it turned out, not up to speed on the treatments available for my form of cancer, but at the time it did give me a sharp recognition that my life was not unlimited, and that there were certain things I had better get done soon if I expected to complete them. My point there, is that at no time did I decide to rush off a sloppy job just so I could say it was done – if I was going to die soon, the last things I did were things I wanted to get done as perfect as I could. I would want my last work to be my best, not some sloppy effort. I can hardly imagine that Roger Zelazny would care less about what he considered his final work.
If this is true, however, it brings us back to ask why the Merlin Cycle appears to be less satisfying then the Corwin Cycle. Some of that comes down to Zelazny being fifteen years older when he started the 'Trumps of Doom' from when he began 'Nine Princes in Amber', but I also think it comes down to the fact that Zelazny wrote the Corwin Cycle, he knew there would be five books but was not sure whether the series would prove popular enough to continue the story. He had a lot of back-story, but could not know in advance how much demand there would be, to learn more about Grayswandir, about Dara, about Merlin and the Courts of Chaos, about the nature of the Pattern and the structure of his universe. When he started the Merlin Cycle, Zelazny knew that the market would bear not only the second series, but another after that, and I believe that from the start of the second series, Zelazny was thinking not just about books six through ten, but all the way through to the end of the saga. Look through the first ten books, and you will see any number of references or comments which point to doors for plot departures. While some of those were used, I believe, to counter any sense the reader had of omniscience in the story and to provide Roger the means to drop in plot surprises when he pleased, I also think they were there to be used in later parts of the story. Merlin’s decision to spare Corwin the first time they met in the Courts of Chaos, for example, foreshadowed Merlin’s determination to find and save his father in 'Prince of Chaos'.
And that is part of the dance, as well, the matter of sensing which themes and events are meant to reflect others in the story. Certainly Zelazny pointed this out in a number of places, that there is a balance and a certain continuity to things, a literary yin/yang balance if you will. Zelazny noted, for example that the royal family of Amber was in constant chaos, while the royal family of Chaos was serene. Therefore, we do well to consider the themes and lessons we have already seen in play during the first two cycles, as they will be repeated or continue in the same manner in the third series.
The first cycle focused on Amber. The second cycle focused on Chaos. The third, then, will focus on Shadow.
The first book of each cycle featured the imprisonment of the main character. So will the third.
The final book of each cycle saw the death of a King, and a new King. So will the third.
Corwin was betrayed by a love. So was Merlin. This will happen in the third cycle as well.
Corwin depended on his magic word, Grayswandir. Merlin depended on his shadow computer construct, Ghostwheel. The protagonist of the third cycle will depend on a similar artifact specially suited to his person.
In each of the first to cycles, the hero grew through the books from a self-centered person to a duty-focused person. So too, in the third cycle.
All through the books, we saw that people were not as they seemed. Carl Corey discovered he was really Prince Corwin, his buddy Ganelon turned out to be his father Oberon, Dara was Corwin’s lover and the mother of his son Merlin, but she never loved him and wanted Amber destroyed , Merlin’s best friend Luke tuned out to have attempted his murder several times, his girlfriend Julia became his nemesis Mask, and his brother Jurt, who spent his whole life trying to kill Merlin, in the end became his ally and helped him free Coral from the Pattern and the Logrus both. So moving into the last series, we should expect to not only see new characters added, but also see some surprises from the cast in place. Especially from Mandor, Fiona, and – wait for it – Bill Roth. Yep, good old “mortal” Bill, Corwin’s lawyer buddy from shadow Earth. There’s things to chew on regarding this guy, and more than a few suspicions. Consider how many times we see this guy throughout the stories. Bill Roth out-lives several major characters and turns up in all kinds of important places.
When Corwin got stabbed in 'Sign of the Unicorn' and was bleeding to death, who found him and got him to a hospital? Bill Roth.
Who helps Corwin with the disposal of his house on Earth in 'The Hand of Oberon'? Bill Roth.
Who wrote the terms of the Patterfall Treaty between Amber and Chaos? Bill Roth.
When Merlin decides to deal directly with whomever is trying to kill him in 'Trumps of Doom', who does he talk to besides Luke and (unknowingly) Nayda? Bill Roth.
Merlin talks again with Bill Roth in 'Sign of Chaos', he even runs across Bill Roth in the Hall of Mirrors, and when Merlin looks into Suhuy’s pool in 'Prince of Chaos' to consider candidates for the throne and people who are playing a role in that conflict, one of the people Merlin sees … is Bill Roth.
If Roger Zelazny had written a third series, Bill Roth would be a major surprise character, someone much different than he appeared to be all along. Some readers will remind me that Bill Roth is just a mortal human, but to that claim I would remind you that the claim came from Bill himself, and we have no proof whatsoever that Bill Roth is just what he claims. In the Merlin Cycle we discovered that Luke was not what he seemed, nor Coral, nor Julia. So Bill Roth, I strongly suspect, is a ringer.
Let’s go back to a nagging question that a lot of readers had in the Merlin Cycle: How, exactly, are we supposed to believe in Merlin as the new King of Chaos? Merlin himself admitted that he was far from qualified, yet at the end of 'Prince of Chaos' it sure looks like he got the job. Why, exactly? OK, I get that Merlin is from the royal houses of both Amber and Chaos, but again, why should this impress us? Where has he shown special qualities that would explain both the Unicorn and the Serpent wanting to sign up Merlin as their figurehead?
Merlin regards himself as a dime-a-dozen sorcerer, a decent but unexceptional swordsman, and an utter neuf in matters of state and politics. So how does he get the crown? We know from 'Prince of Chaos' that Merlin defeats both Dara and Mandor, and with the help of Ghostwheel he even seems to force the Logrus to accept his terms, after an earlier confrontation with the Pattern which seems to have been 90 percent luck on Merlin’s part, and a healthy assist from Luke for the rest of it. But Merlin does not accomplish this with skill or brilliant planning – he basically carries around the magic version of a handheld nuclear power plant and simply uses force until the obstacle is removed. And Merlin did not create or develop the Spikard – it was given to him! We find out from Bleys that there are nine of these rings, and it so happens that Merlin gets to carry out a second ring, which previously belonged to King Swayville and which was enchanted by Mandor and Dara in hopes of controlling Merlin. So OK, what are the odds , if you’re Mandor, say, that you come across an artifact of fantastic power, so much so that the bearer is all but unstoppable, and your thought is not only to not keep it for yourself, but hand it off to someone you plan to control, on the assumption that if things don’t work out you can still regain the upper hand? Isn’t it a lot more likely that you’d find more than one of those, so you had a power source of your own, should you need it? But of course, when Merlin dueled Mandor, he won. Odd. But I noticed something there.
Merlin mentioned that Mandor was fond of carrying around a group of small iron balls, which he used as an idiosyncratic magic aid. This is important for two reasons – one, in the short story “Hall of Mirrors”, Zelazny confirms that two of the spikards were turned into swords – Grayswandir and Werewindle, as a matter of fact. So there’s no reason that Mandor could not have transformed his spikard into three magic iron balls. And reason two, when Merlin abruptly confronts Mandor, he catches him by surprise. Mandor is led to believe that he is in control of Merlin through the spell on what he thinks is Merlin’s spikard, and in that section we never see Mandor use his magic iron balls. Guess Mandor picked a bad day to leave them at home or send them on an errand, huh?
By the way, in the short story “The Salesman’s Tale”, we find from Luke that he can summon Werewindle to him by way of a Trump. This lets us know that the spikards can be manipulated in the same way, and also oh by the way this answers a lot of questions about how Grayswandir shows up in various places seemingly on its own, such as Merlin being able to use in the land-underneath-Shadow in 'Knight of Shadow'. Being able to call up artifacts on cue makes things a lot more fluid in the third cycle, hmm?
Before moving on, I also found "The Salesman’s Tale" an important revelation on another score – Vialle’s ability for prophecy. One valid criticism of the first cycle was the limited value placed on the women in the stories, especially the Princesses of Amber. Zelazny’s discussion of Vialle’s prophetic powers is not only consistent with her legacy from Rebma, but a welcome acknowledgement of her value in her own right as a person – Queen in substance as well as name.
Next: What the Short Stories Contribute (Revised)
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
A Thief In Amber - First and Very Rough Draft
Some people are hard to kill. I don’t mean the moral decision to kill, but the difficulty in getting someone to die, who is stubbornly opposed to the idea. Some people are hard to kill because they are physically tough, some have one of those spirits that refuses to quit, and some are just plain durable.
So imagine how much more difficult it can be to kill someone, who is already dead but comes back anyway.
It was in the early days, before all the betrayals and family intrigues … OK, we always had those going on, but this was back in the days when we still imagined that we played by the rules. You couldn’t attempt to murder a sibling then, without at least feigning innocence, and alliance with genocidal maniacs was only allowed if the said monsters were friends of Oberon.
So, when word got out that someone or something was making its way through the halls of Castle Amber at night, killing members of the staff and generally hurting the castle’s reputation for fine dining and keeping folks safe from threats to their safety, the family decided it was time to take matters in hand. And, being expected to take the lead, I did so.
Oberon, as he commonly did, was traveling and away from Amber. Caine and Gerard were at sea and therefore also unavailable. Dierdre and Llewellen on a diplomatic mission for the Golden Circle, Brand, Random and Eric were out of the city for reasons not known to anyone else in the family. That, of course, was also a reason for me to take charge; it would gall Eric no end if I could resolve things before he even heard about them … and give me no end of amusement if I could find a way to suggest he was somehow responsible for the problem. I was in those years when I was trying to show up everyone else, and convinced I looked good doing it. So it was that four princes and two princesses gathered for dinner, as we often did when we wanted to discuss issues of importance, and to imagine ourselves civilized.
The food was fine. The conversation, however, was wholly unsatisfying. It soon became apparent that none of us knew what was really going on, had any idea who or what was behind the attacks, and no one wanted to appear as helpless as we all felt.
After dinner, we all went to the library for drinks, and a second try at strategy. That fell apart as soon we chose our drinks. I watched as we chose different drinks, then different seats. Hell, we weren’t even looking at each other.
[Corwin in conversation with Fiona, in some mild disagreement]
‘ “Whereas wit is a bird that eludes the hand of rather too many princes.”
I shrugged. “Your disapproval concerns me even less than usual, Fi. All things considered.”
She tossed her head, read hair like a fall of flame. “Yet, perhaps it should. All things considered.”
I did things with my own eyebrows, emptied my glass, swung my boots down from the table, and headed for the door.
She chuckled, behind me.
I stopped, refrained from turning, and waited. Fiona could never resist showing the rest of us that she was a step ahead. Or pretending to be.
“You are wearing your blade,” she said. “Good.”
I went out, uttering no clever comments. With at least three murderous ghosts stalking Castle Amber, the time for such things was past.’
Hours passed, as I waited with blade drawn and senses wary, sitting in the hallway outside a row of rooms where I thought an appearance most likely by one or more of our homicidal specters.
I guessed wrong. The most dangerous thing to pass my way that night was an odor wafting from Julian’s room. I could pretend it was some feral scent from our nocturnal attackers, but I am sure it was simply the unwashed aroma of a pair of his dogs. In any case, I saw no spirits floating about, encountered no need to use my weapon, and generally felt like I was wasting my time.
Until I heard Flora scream. Down another hall, and far from my chosen station. Naturally. Or un-naturally. Whatever.
I felt damn foolish as I ran towards Flora’s room, hoping my missed guess would not be a costly mistake.
‘It was very late, or rather early, before one of the walls opened in a place where it should not have done, and something that was both silver and shadow joined me.
Grayswandir felt good in my hand as I put down what I was finished drinking anyway, and waited.
Patience, they say, is a chiefly a virtue for statues, but I’d made more than my share of mistakes, thus far, and blood is hell to get out of good rugs.
Came a whisper, out of darkness. “Corwin, is it time?” ’
A fight for my life, I expected. Temporal confusion from the spooks, I have to admit, I did not see coming.
‘And shadows fled before me, and I was alone.
My book was on the floor, blackened. Damn. I watched lightning flicker and wondered if I would ever know what I fought, or why. Family politics seemed as tiresome as ever.
Three ghosts, Benedict had said, and had been on the brink of saying more ere his face had smoothed and he’d turned away.
Which meant he’d recognized the one he’d seen.
So had the lamplighter, before the ghost that slew him caught up with him and burned his skull bare, from within.
Coln had died, before that, and one of the cooks. Seven maids, or more by now, since.
Then they started on us. Flora had almost fallen to one, and then Julian. Almost.
We’re tough meat, we of Amber.’
[ natt
er natter natter ]
So imagine how much more difficult it can be to kill someone, who is already dead but comes back anyway.
It was in the early days, before all the betrayals and family intrigues … OK, we always had those going on, but this was back in the days when we still imagined that we played by the rules. You couldn’t attempt to murder a sibling then, without at least feigning innocence, and alliance with genocidal maniacs was only allowed if the said monsters were friends of Oberon.
So, when word got out that someone or something was making its way through the halls of Castle Amber at night, killing members of the staff and generally hurting the castle’s reputation for fine dining and keeping folks safe from threats to their safety, the family decided it was time to take matters in hand. And, being expected to take the lead, I did so.
Oberon, as he commonly did, was traveling and away from Amber. Caine and Gerard were at sea and therefore also unavailable. Dierdre and Llewellen on a diplomatic mission for the Golden Circle, Brand, Random and Eric were out of the city for reasons not known to anyone else in the family. That, of course, was also a reason for me to take charge; it would gall Eric no end if I could resolve things before he even heard about them … and give me no end of amusement if I could find a way to suggest he was somehow responsible for the problem. I was in those years when I was trying to show up everyone else, and convinced I looked good doing it. So it was that four princes and two princesses gathered for dinner, as we often did when we wanted to discuss issues of importance, and to imagine ourselves civilized.
The food was fine. The conversation, however, was wholly unsatisfying. It soon became apparent that none of us knew what was really going on, had any idea who or what was behind the attacks, and no one wanted to appear as helpless as we all felt.
After dinner, we all went to the library for drinks, and a second try at strategy. That fell apart as soon we chose our drinks. I watched as we chose different drinks, then different seats. Hell, we weren’t even looking at each other.
[Corwin in conversation with Fiona, in some mild disagreement]
‘ “Whereas wit is a bird that eludes the hand of rather too many princes.”
I shrugged. “Your disapproval concerns me even less than usual, Fi. All things considered.”
She tossed her head, read hair like a fall of flame. “Yet, perhaps it should. All things considered.”
I did things with my own eyebrows, emptied my glass, swung my boots down from the table, and headed for the door.
She chuckled, behind me.
I stopped, refrained from turning, and waited. Fiona could never resist showing the rest of us that she was a step ahead. Or pretending to be.
“You are wearing your blade,” she said. “Good.”
I went out, uttering no clever comments. With at least three murderous ghosts stalking Castle Amber, the time for such things was past.’
Hours passed, as I waited with blade drawn and senses wary, sitting in the hallway outside a row of rooms where I thought an appearance most likely by one or more of our homicidal specters.
I guessed wrong. The most dangerous thing to pass my way that night was an odor wafting from Julian’s room. I could pretend it was some feral scent from our nocturnal attackers, but I am sure it was simply the unwashed aroma of a pair of his dogs. In any case, I saw no spirits floating about, encountered no need to use my weapon, and generally felt like I was wasting my time.
Until I heard Flora scream. Down another hall, and far from my chosen station. Naturally. Or un-naturally. Whatever.
I felt damn foolish as I ran towards Flora’s room, hoping my missed guess would not be a costly mistake.
‘It was very late, or rather early, before one of the walls opened in a place where it should not have done, and something that was both silver and shadow joined me.
Grayswandir felt good in my hand as I put down what I was finished drinking anyway, and waited.
Patience, they say, is a chiefly a virtue for statues, but I’d made more than my share of mistakes, thus far, and blood is hell to get out of good rugs.
Came a whisper, out of darkness. “Corwin, is it time?” ’
A fight for my life, I expected. Temporal confusion from the spooks, I have to admit, I did not see coming.
‘And shadows fled before me, and I was alone.
My book was on the floor, blackened. Damn. I watched lightning flicker and wondered if I would ever know what I fought, or why. Family politics seemed as tiresome as ever.
Three ghosts, Benedict had said, and had been on the brink of saying more ere his face had smoothed and he’d turned away.
Which meant he’d recognized the one he’d seen.
So had the lamplighter, before the ghost that slew him caught up with him and burned his skull bare, from within.
Coln had died, before that, and one of the cooks. Seven maids, or more by now, since.
Then they started on us. Flora had almost fallen to one, and then Julian. Almost.
We’re tough meat, we of Amber.’
[ natt
er natter natter ]
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