Book Review | Star Wars: Tarkin by James Luceno

Tarkin, by esteemed Star Wars Expanded Universe veteran James Luceno, has been my first venture into Disney’s all-new Star Wars literary canon. With all pre-Disney Star Wars books now seemingly retconned and rebranded as “Star Wars Legends”, even those yet (and probably unlikely) to be contradicted by Disney-era media, I’ve been both surprised and delighted to find that Tarkin is actually beautifully redolent of the author’s suddenly redundant, but still spellbinding as ever, bibliography - Labyrinth of Evil and Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader especially so.

Indeed, Tarkin is clear a reflection of Luceno’s late 2005 novel in particular - the only real difference is its subject. This isn’t a criticism; the author’s formula is as effective now as it was a decade ago. This time, rather than opening a window into the tortured mind of the recently-crippled Darth Vader, here Luceno turns his attention towards the grand moff of the Galactic Empire; the sector governor and tactical mastermind to whom even Vader would defer in the original Star Wars movie, Wilhuff Tarkin.

Despite some excellent exposure in Star Wars: The Clone Wars , and even a fleeting cameo at the end of Revenge of the Sith , before reading this book I knew precious little about the character whom Peter Cushing’s cold and clipped performance would make famous besides that gleamed from the silver screen. Set around the time of the Star Wars Rebels TV series, Luceno’s main narrative sees its protagonist constantly harking back to the events that forged him. We learn of his colonial upbringing in the Outer Rim, the literal ordeals / rites of passage that his ruthless family made him suffer through, the beginning of his military career and Sheev Palpatine’s subsequent steering it towards politics. Entire episodes from Tarkin’s youth are played out with colour and verve - he brings cybernetic fallen princesses turned pirates to heel, turns his governance of nature into the governance of his world; he even snubs Count Dooku over dinner on the eve of war’s outbreak, and in so doing saves his world. Each tale, each piece of the grand tapestry, feeds into the decisions Tarkin makes as he deals with events in the present - events that cast him in the unusual role of victim rather than perpetrator.

 For me, the illicit joy of this book is its deceptively soft focus - its ability to carry along its readers at a frantic pace without ever allowing them pause to consider that its two chief protagonists are, in fact, antagonists, and that its “good guys” are really the perpetrators of the grand theft cosmos on which the plot builds. Reading about Tarkin; about Vader; even about the Emperor sat atop Coruscant in his opulent palace, their goals and doctrines unwittingly infect you as you read. Somehow, you want them to win.

  Perhaps the book’s greatest success though is its understated, but still most insightful, portrayal of the Tarkin / Vader relationship, which has always been as difficult to quantify as the Sith Lord’s invisible rank. Who answers to whom? Even the Emperor washes his hands of the issue here, and as matters progress it becomes apparent that the question is immaterial: Vader and Tarkin are a partnership, and it’s implied that they each know it. Vader has his skills, Tarkin has his, and to their mutual credit they each know when to give a free rein to the other. It makes for a thrilling, page-turning read as in concert they must hunt down the turncoats who’ve stolen Tarkin’s ship, the Carrion Spike, and turned its might against the Empire in one of the earliest acts of rebellion. What makes this chase all the more alluring are the moments in which Tarkin stops to try to look behind those obsidian orbs that shroud Vader’s eyes in an attempt to confirm his gut feeling that the cybernetic monstrosity with whom he feels such unusual and begrudging kinship was once his only real Jedi ally from the Clone Wars, Anakin Skywalker.
 By turns fast, furious and flagrant, Tarkin lifts the veil not only on its eponymous protagonist but also on his fellow agents of evil and the inner workings of the Galactic Empire that they now must defend. It’s right up there with Luceno’s finest efforts from this era, in my view, with which it sits remarkably well - a complement to, rather than replacement for.

Tarkin is available to download from iTunes for £4.99. If you think it’d be more fitting to download the book from the imperial might of Amazon , though, the listed price is still the same but you’re unlikely to find Amazon’s gift cards discounted as you will iTunes’, so iTunes remains the cheaper option. Alternatively, if deforestation and clutter is your thing, Amazon are flogging a paperback for £6.29 plus delivery.