When a Book Really Becomes Problematic

Yes, this is Toby being judgmental.

I hesitate to use the word “problematic” in earnest when it comes to a book review. I feel that term has reached a level of “bandwagon”-ness regarding the evaluation of mass market fiction. A lot of what many readers label “problematic” comes down to a matter of personal taste (which, as we’ve established, is subjective), or of not understanding the context/background of something (the current debate on how bigoted classics are is a perfect example of needing to grasp the perspective of the time period while not condoning it).

But I’m about to break my own rules here because I just decided to DNF “Empire of the Vampire” by Jay Kristoff, and my reasoning is…it’s just plain problematic.

Now, full disclosure: I had some late Christmas gift cards come my way, and this book was one that I purchased as part of that spree. I was honestly really excited that I got a signed copy of this novel. I was stoked that it’s illustrated, because so few adult fantasy novels include illustrations. It’s been a very long time since I read a vampire story. I was willing to put up with the fact this tale spans several hundred pages.

Here’s why, after nearly 3 weeks of slogging through the first third, I’m giving up.

This book very quickly goes from a medieval-type world in which vampires have taken over and are terrorizing humanity; to, this is a medieval-type world run by a domineering religion, with very questionable views on women’s roles and what consenting adults do in their own bedrooms, a quite old-fashioned and rather tricky perspective on the vampires, and more profanity and X-rated scenes than you find in many “grown-ups only” movies.

A bit of each of these elements may not bother me very much. But in excess, and not showing any sign of changing by page 300, and I’m a little concerned.

A major reason I stopped reading “A Song of Ice and Fire” was the extreme violence against women, the vulgar language, and the fact that after a while, none of it seemed to exist as plot points or moral lessons for characters; it almost become a style choice, and that’s where I draw the line. How can you root for “protagonists” that are just terrible people?

I was almost to the point of rooting for the vampires in “Empire of the Vampire.” The “hero” is an admitted drug addict who is only nice to a few people he has fond memories of; otherwise he’s just a massive jerk to everyone who crosses his path. He was trained in the art and science of hunting monsters by a strict religious sect that sounds more oppressive than the vampires. This “brotherhood” refuses to let women learn to fight, insists on a code of conduct that is almost impossible to carry out if you’re a normal human being, and takes boys and girls from their homes, without their parents’ permission in some cases, to serve in this “saints” order that will “push back the darkness” sweeping over the world.

At least the vampires, while definitely horrible — killing everyone, committing child abuse, using mind control on people, not caring who they hurt — are what one would expect from vampires. But I really couldn’t be glad when the “hero” and his “brotherhood of saints” defeated more of the enemy — especially since the warriors capture some of their targets and bring them back to headquarters to drain their blood, which is then distilled into a substance that the brotherhood literally puts in their pipes and smokes it. Yes, you read that right. I have ISSUES with this kind of behavior from the supposed saviors of humanity. The undead often showed more compassion and grief when one of their own was killed, and, no, I’m not kidding. The remaining humans were so cynical, or hardened, battle-weary, whatever it was; but they were just plain awful to each other so frequently that I couldn’t see much, frankly, worth saving.

There was no joy, no hope in this story. Everyone seemed ready to abandon their families, give up all sense of fighting for a better day, apart from one rag-tag bunch the protagonist encounters in his mind-30s, after years of his being a fabled vampire slayer. The deeper we get into the narration, the more this annihilism is reinforced. All good things are apparently lost to these characters, and it’s just tragic. We learn early on that a major enemy has been defeated, but that it didn’t really make a difference in the humans’ war against the undead. What the heck’s the point of the whole tale, then?

I can handle blurring the lines between good and bad, particularly when the idea is to show a character finding redemption after poor actions, or to have someone re-evaluate their possibly damaging or unhealthy attitudes. I don’t mind an antihero who becomes a true hero. I can also accept a protagonist with flaws and regrets — that’s just human, after all. What really gnaws at me is the feeling that there’s a subtle implication beneath the narration that all humans are monsters, and the real monsters actually deserve to win in the end.

That’s a kind of take I’m really not sure what to do with, and that I find, certainly, problematic.