Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Lit Review: The Emperor's Soul

Brandon Sanderson plays with the conventions of epic fantasy in many of his works, but most of it is still epic fantasy in the classic sense. It’s what he’s comfortable with, and he’s very good at it, but the style does grow stale after reading five or six of his novels in a row.

That’s why The Emperor’s Soul surprised me, even before opening it. Here was a tiny book, barely a hundred fifty pages, with the name “Brandon Sanderson” right below the title. I judged it an aberration by the cover, and I was right. It’s short where Sanderson’s other works are lengthy. It’s fast-paced where the others are methodical, cozy and simple where the others are grand and complex, mystical and introspective where the others are precise and sweeping. The Emperor’s Soul is wildly different Sanderson’s other work, and it’s an absolute delight.

It revolves around Shai, an imprisoned con artist forced to use her magic, Forgery, to construct a new soul for the brain-damaged emperor. Forgery allows her to change objects by literally stamping a new past onto them. If the new past is plausible, the object changes. This also works for people, but doing so is vastly difficult. To Forge the emperor’s soul, she must be able to understand and explain every element of his character, which would be an immense challenge even if she weren’t confined to a cell, even if she could interact with him…and she only has a hundred days to do it.

Shai’s task is one of research, empathy, and hard, repetitive work. Forgery is both literary criticism and artistic process as a form of magic, and she spends much of the book collecting information, writing, and rewriting stories until she finds one that explains. Her effort and frustration, terror and exhaustion and elation, and her manic need to finish her project even as time runs short, even as she knows it would be safer and wiser to simply run away, capture the work of art like few other works I’ve seen.

Shai’s task blurs the lines between lie and truth, which comes out in the wonderful interactions with her imprisoner Gaotona. The two grow to understand and respect each other, learning about themselves in the process: she, teaching him the artistry in lies, he, teaching her the value of truth. This wonderfully-constructed relationship grounds the story in strong characterization, making its mystical themes solid and meaningful.

Most of Sanderson’s work moves slowly, but The Emperor’s Soul moves like lightning, its very structure as cramped and hurried as Shai herself. The book is physically small, with claustrophobic pages and short paragraphs. Pacing is quick, chapter titles bear simple timestamps instead of the artful epigraphs Sanderson often employs, and the clipped lexicon and short sentences make the words almost trip over each other in their haste. Every element of the book presses in the feeling of constriction, of time running out, making Shai’s artistic mania seem to crackle off the page.


Even to those who dislike fantasy, The Emperor’s Soul is a wonderful read. Its strong characterization and tight pacing draws you in, and its ingenious use of literary criticism and artistic process as a form of magic rings true to anybody with an interest in literature. For Sanderson’s fans, it’s even more of a treat: its utter uniqueness with respect to his other works and the references to the world of Elantris peppered within just add to it.

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