Pieter

This series is famous, or infamous, among fantasy fans.

It is said that these books are difficult, and for many people, these books are therefore a formidable opponent. I have only one response to this: don't let it bother you.

Gardens of the Moon is not difficult in the sense that the language used is complex. It's also not difficult due to complicated theories (as in the case of Neal Stephenson).
Yes, there are many characters, but that's the case in many (fantasy) series. And, this is actually the crux, Erikson simply starts somewhere in the middle of a history of an empire. At least, that's how it seems. This empire is the Malazan Empire. No background is given, nothing is explained. The prologue just starts, and as a reader, you can only let yourself be carried along in the story that Erikson is telling you. And you must trust that things will become clearer as the story progresses.
If you, as a reader, find this annoying, then this book can indeed be perceived as “difficult.” Difficult to deal with, difficult to understand, and especially difficult to accept.

I have no problem with this at all. Imagine the Roman Empire, which was immense at its peak. It encompassed countless peoples. There were local rulers, generals, intrigues, wars, assassination plots everywhere. All at the same time. Now, just imagine that you are focusing on a specific event in that vast history and span of the Roman empire. Movies and books do this all the time. It helped me a lot translating this attitude towards this book.

From the beginning, Erikson gives you the feeling that you are part of an immense epic story, even if your view of it is still very limited. On one hand, a high-level chess game unfolds where various individuals are moved around the board like pawns; on the other hand, Erikson also shows the human side.
Everything slowly converges as if it were a kind of comedy. Independent storylines intertwine, with coincidences that sometimes seem like a “deus ex machina.”
This might be a point of criticism from my side. If this were a stand-alone book, the author might have taken some shortcuts in certain respects. A deus ex machina plot device has never been my favorite. So, I also trust that some things will be woven into the story as the series progresses.

For me, after the first read, this is a 4 to 4.5-star book.
It's possible that this could increase or decrease as more of the Malazan world becomes clear.

“Night” by Elie Wiesel is a moving and impactful account of the author's experiences during the Holocaust. The book takes the reader through the brutal reality of the Holocaust and the effect it had on his life. Wiesel's writing style is straightforward and effective, making the reader feel the gravity of the events described. The book is a personal testament to the atrocities committed during that time and will linger in the mind of the reader long after finishing it.

One of the most striking aspects of the book is how Wiesel manages to convey the immense suffering and trauma of the Holocaust in a raw and personal way. He does not shy away from describing the concentration camps in detail, but also delves into the emotional and psychological impact it had on him and those around him.

Are we going to die now?
No.
What are we going to do?
We're going to drink some water. Then we're going to keep going down the road.

There are few books that have left such a deep impression as The Road.
A man, a boy, a desolate post-apocalyptic world, and The Road.
That's all.

McCarthy's writing style is just as desolate as the world he writes about. It never becomes entirely clear what has happened; brief, fleeting flashbacks are all the reader gets.
You can feel the despair of the world in which the man and the boy live.
The man is cynical, and survival is his top priority. The boy, on the other hand, has great compassion.
This gives rise to highly emotional situations.

A beautiful story that is heart-wrenching.
5 stars

Because we're the good guys.
Yes.
And we're carrying the fire.

‘we went hunting...through the bones of the damned city. And then, with the captain's help, we crawled outa that grave.'
The Adjunct's gaze left the ragged man, travelled slowly along the line, the gaunt faces, the deathly eyes staring out from dust-caked faces, the naked, blistered skin. ‘Bonehunters in truth, then.'

“The Bonehunters,” part 6 in the Malazan Book of the Fallen series, has been noted by Erikson himself in interviews and talks as essentially two books combined. This is evident in the structure of the novel.

While the first five books introduce various independent storylines, they converge one by one in this book. The initial part of the book culminates in a 120-page chapter, which could have been a novella on its own. This chapter vividly describes the siege of a city that captivates the reader. In this single chapter, Erikson showcases his writing prowess - a fantastic segment. Following this, the aftermath is detailed, setting the stage for the second half of the book.

The latter part involves a less focused storyline but a more tactical maneuvering of players on the Malazan chessboard. Erikson introduces new storylines and ensures that the resolution of the book provides an opening for the rest of the series. Personally, I find the conclusion very intriguing.

Despite containing fantastic chapters, the overall impression is somewhat messy, lacking the tight composition seen in Midnight Tides. Erikson also explores themes such as religion, fanaticism, progress, and civilization.

On religion and fanaticism, for instance:
“All those bickering worshippers, each one convinced their version is the right one. Imagine getting prayers from ten million believers, not one of them believing the same thing as the one kneeling beside him or her. Imagine all those Holy Books, not one of them agreeing on anything, yet all of them purporting to be the word of that one god. Imagine two armies annihilating each other, both in that god's name. Who wouldn't be driven mad by all that?”“Show me a god that does not demand mortal suffering. Show me a god that celebrates diversity, a celebration that embraces even non-believers and is not threatened by them. Show me a god who understands the meaning of peace.”

And regarding progress and civilization:
“And so you still do not comprehend the great gift of civilization—' ‘I comprehend it fine,' Karsa Orlong replied around a mouthful of meat. ‘The savage proceeds into civilization through improvements—' ‘Yes!' ‘Improvements in the manner and efficiency of killing people.' ‘Hold on—' ‘Improvements in the unassailable rules of degradation and misery.' ‘Karsa—' ‘Improvements in ways to humiliate, impose suffering and justify slaughtering those savages too stupid and too trusting to resist what you hold as inevitable. Namely, their extinction.”

In this context, he also casually touches on the theme of the assimilation of many indigenous cultures by colonial cultures. The commentary on these themes by various characters in the story adds relevance that goes beyond just being a good fantasy tale.

Rated 4.5 stars.

Like many people, I watched the Netflix series a few years ago. I found the series good, and now that I came across the book, I definitely wanted to read it.

I certainly don't regret it. Tevis's writing style is somewhat distant; he describes things in a fairly straightforward manner. The dialogues are quite sharp, and what stands out is his knowledge of chess. His expertise is good enough to make it seem realistic.

The story itself is, of course, quite standard and predictable. Even without the Netflix series as a spoiler, the story has no real surprises. An outcast in an orphanage, a girl, turns out to be a prodigy and becomes the world's best chess player.

It's no wonder that the book has been adapted for Netflix because it reads like a movie script.
A very entertaining book, but in this case, the series is better. The characters and the zeitgeist come more to life in the series. Refreshing, for a change.