The joy of a Steven Brust novel lies in two equal parts: one, the story itself, and the other one, how the story is written.
We wrote the above statement, and already the clamoring chorus of malcontents and complainants has crescendoed. "Dare you say," they chirrup, "that we all must find joy the novels of Steven Brust? And furthermore," they warble, "that, should we find such alleged joy in his written works, that joy needs must be divided in two? Can we not," they splutter, blubber, and keen, "find multiple points of joy, beyond the narrow dichotomy which you, in your arrogance, profess?"
Before we continue with this review of The Paths of the Dead, Brust's excellent and, yes, joyous historical romance, allow us to clarify: those that have not read a Steven Brust novel may, indeed, wonder about the effusiveness of this reviewer, however the remedy is easily applied. I beg you, nameless masses of joyless slogs, to read a novel by the inimitable Brust (inimitable, though many try to imitate, and, in their attempt, must necessarily fail, for few possess the finely tuned sense of clarity and style that is a mark of Brust's oeuvre, and thus, also, a mark of his success) and you shall see for yourselves the joy of which we speak. Though we do take your other critique to heart, and, as objectivity and the willingness to admit one's failings is a boon for the humble writer, we amend our previous statement to say that Steven Brust's novels provide many joys, large and small, as various and subtle as each individual reader, their own intelligence and opinion coloring their experience of the novel, and their joy forthwith.
Now, to return to our original point, for this review cannot move forward until we have fully explicated the (admittedly false) dichotomy present in the opening sentence of this review.
(among) The joy(s) of a Steven Brust novel lies in two equal parts: one, the story itself, and the (an)other one, how the story is written.
So now, to the story, which we shall endeavor to summarize, free of the pernicious spoiler, with precision, yet also with economy, which the reviewer acknowledges is foremost the reader's mind, for, given the many demands upon the reader's time, and that time itself is not infinite, should the reader wish to have a fully detailed understanding of the plot, they would rather (and this reviewer does so encourage) read the novel itself. Furthermore, the reviewer, possessing of an acute sensitivity for the embattled reader, does not wish to tax their attention with unnecessary verbiage, and so moves forward, with alacrity, into the summary of the plot with the reader's best interests firmly...
(From the Police Inspector, Violent Mysterious Crimes Division): At this point, the reviewer was interrupted. According to the evidence, a large group of violent protesters infiltrated his office and attacked him. The cause of the attack is unclear, though a clue, perhaps, lies in the fact that they shredded his thesaurus and grammatical style guide. Surely this is an indication of their extreme frustration with and antagonism toward said reviewer. For further information about Steven Brust's novel The Paths of the Dead I suggest you read it for yourself... I glanced at the copy that was left on the reviewer's desk and was immediately drawn in by the story, and yea, also by the way in which the story was written. We beg your indulgence, please allow this humble public servant a moment to explicate the above statement, which we agree is worth further investigation, and once fully parsed, the reader may concur with the statement, also, verily, shall we...