it’s pretty much impossible to go through life as a fantasy fan without being exposed to the hype around mistborn and the cosmere. sanderson’s laws of magic, his more.. “commercial” outlook on writing, his ability to connect with such a gargantuan number of readers makes it inevitable that actively reading them or not, you will form some sort of impression on his work, and it was aversion to this “cult” of his that made me hesitant for years to pick up a book of his.
i assure you i went into this read with an open mind. “good” or not i think things are generally popular for a reason, and even if it doesn’t appeal to you personally, it’s usually easy enough to see where that popular appeal lies. honestly, i thought the worst that would happen was that i would end up a little bored.
the verdict?
………FUCK. THIS. BOOK.
sure, colour me surprised too. without exaggeration this might actually be my least favourite read of all time. ever. i feel entitled to a chunk of that kickstarter money for not dnfing this book.
good lord where does one even begin.
i think the very first issue that struck me with this book wasn't even it’s mind-numbingly simplistic prose (we’ll get to that later), but instead the realisation that several chapters in, i had no idea what this world looks like. not every novel has to follow the same structure, i appreciate that. but in a genre such as fantasy, where half of the books out there are written BECAUSE the author had an itch to create their own magical realm and story comes second, when youre several paces into the plot and have no idea what the landscape, the architecture, the clothing, the linguistics and naming conventions, the culture here looks like, it’s going to jar you a bit. and the problem is that this is never really amended. it was a good chunk into the book when the friend i was reading with pointed out that this was probably supposed to be some sort of steampunk thing, whereas i had just assumed it to be a totally pre-industrial society. it’s because none of the dressing in this world has any purpose. the author thought spikes through the eyes of the empire’s muscle would look cool, so he wrote it in in the moment. he thought it would be cool for the world’s lawyer class to have face tattoos, so he wrote that in too (and then didnt give any indication as to what those tattoos even look like until the last third of the book). there is nothing cohesive, alluring, or immersive about the worldbuilding here, and i think it’s even insulting to actual masters of worldbuilding to call it such. when plot requires something new to move forward, it’s introduced into the world with zero regard as to how it fits in deeper than absolute surface-level (when one of the characters pulls out a ONE THOUSAND YEAR OLD PHOTOGRAPH?!). all foliage of this world is supposed to be brown and red and dull, with the landscape usually covered in a layer of ash that falls out of the sky, these are MASSIVELY striking elements, and yet each rare time they'd be referenced id be pulled out of the story for a moment, because the author has done such an awful job at integrating them into a memorable and believable world. it’s a mess.
..i want to switch gears onto the politics of this book, since that ended up being pretty much the most shocking thing about this read. to be clear, i’m willing to meet a book where it stands in terms of its social politics. i dont open a 200 year old classic expecting perfect internet-woke equality and respect between classes, genders, races, i dont even open a modern day book and expect it to be a feminist treatise unless that’s what it’s explicitly aiming to be. but ive heard a lot from both sanderson and his fans about how important diverse points of view and progressivism is to him and to his stories, and how surprising it was for a lot of them to find out the author is mormon, along with praise for sanderson in keeping his religion separate from his writing. and to that all i have to say is ….. LOL. it doesnt even take critical analysis of the text to see the the way this book drips with racism, sexism, biological essentialism, all while patting itself on the back for thinking it’s saying something revolutionary.
in this world, you have the oppressed race called “skaa” that live as slaves to the “noblemen” (and let’s be clear, they are explicitly framed as different races in the story as opposed to classes). the skaa are either “plantation skaa” (….yeah! theyre really called that!!), or city skaa that live in the slums, and are described as such a caricature of oppression it’s almost laughable, with dirty faces and clothes, being small in stature, superstitious, weak-natured, uneducated, extremely fertile, wary of anyone who smiles because their lives are all so miserable, forced to eat slop every day of the year, biologically unable to practice the magic art in this world unless they have noble blood in their lineage (which, thankfully, all of our protagonists do have). these people are described as so beaten down that not once in one thousand years have they tried to rebel for a better way of life, the author specifically stating that they had bred themselves during that time into complacency, and it’s not until our big strong suave blonde protag Kelsier decides to “free them” do any of them even try to see a way out. in a story that chooses to ground itself in staunchly american language and characterisation the implications are….not great. the fact that mistborn decides there is no physical difference between the ska and their noble counterparts, except for the inherent nature of their blood… kind of even worse as a cop-out. race essentialism, check. then we get a healthy dose of orientalism with the arguably even WORSE caricature that is the terrismen. a race of people who are described with facial features generally ascribed to east and south asia irl, who are bred by the empire into a docile, humourless, desexualized population in flowing robes who crave subjugation, whose secret power comes in the form of storage of vast amounts of information. all the men are castrated at birth, and the main terrisman character even explicitly describes the act of him rebelling against the empire as just changing who he serves, as is his natural inclination. again, none of this is subtext, this is text. this was put on the page with no second thought.
and that’s what’s alarming to me, is that ive constantly heard these books being described as apolitical escapist fantasy. do i think sanderson MEANT to write these in as awful allegories, and that he’s making a point about his opinions on real-world races as he does? of course not. but that’s the point, that no thought was put into this past thinking that slavery would be an easy plot device to create some sort of unfairness in the world that our heroes can rise up against (hes not the first author to use this, and he wont be the last). it’s the fact that his audience reads any of this as apolitical that concerns me more than anything.
another point that id heard before going into these books, sometimes even at sanderson’s expense, was their “sexlessness”. despite being full of romance, this was apparently the one spot the author’s religion did peek through, in that his books were devoid of anything past a PG13 rating. so imagine my surprise opening the prologue to this book and reading about a lord raping and then killing a young girl he owns. and then going onto the next one and reading about a young skaa prostitute, and then the next one, and then the next- these books are overrun by sexual violence against women. i was so taken aback by the level to which it’s portrayed that i often had to stop reading in the middle of chapters and come back when my blood pressure lowered. our female teenage protagonist Vin is the daughter of a prostitute, and the threat of that being her own fate constantly hangs around her, she’s supposed to be grateful to her initial thieving crew for only beating her instead of selling her into sex slavery, when she walks among skaa she can only remark about how if she had remained among them she would probably be a young mother by now. vin is the only named female character in the whole book and EVERY other mention of women is either as a whore (yes, using that word specifically, over, and over,), as the dead partner of a male character to facilitate his development, or as a snooty shallow noblewoman. and the problem is that sanderson is clearly unaware in the plot how deeply disturbing this is. the number is given out at one point that ONE THIRD of noblemen regularly rape and then kill skaa women they own, and our female protag must swoop in to defend that they’re not ALL like that, their society can still be redeemed! and sanderson’s bizarre treatment of women only gets worse and worse the more into the book we get. vin is a classic “not like other girls” archetype, but it almost would have been better for sanderson to not treat her any differently from the men at all rather than try and write the storyline of her “coming into her own femininity” that he did. there’s no consistent characterisation in this book, so vin’s relationship with such flits between growing into the author’s idea of a normal young woman that allows herself to indulge in what’s framed as an inevitable part of the transition from woman to girl, and the scruffy too-cool teen that rejects those shallow, vapid creatures and scorns the way they bend to society. either way he leans it, neither reflects well on his personal views as to what makes a woman. not even to mention how the main romance in the book is between a 16 year old girl and a 21 year old man (do not even get me started on the fact that this is framed as a ~forbidden interracial romance~ between two white people), even while the author MAKES A POINT TO INCLUDE that a relationship between a 15 year old boy and a 17 year old girl would be strange and preposterous, and that he’s too young for her. not to mention either the way the language around her changes as she becomes more “ladylike” to focus more and more descriptively on her body, even leaving her in her underwear for the entire ending. sanderson’s writing of women in this book is cruel, alienating, and it’s just too hilariously on the nose that his mostly white, mostly male fanbase foams at the mouth over how complex his female characters are.
it’s time to step outside of the book for a moment. while mistborn itself hasn't had an overwhelming cultural impact, one thing that has seeped itself into the ways that every modern fantasy author and fan talks about the fantastical parts of a work with is brandon’s terminology for magic systems, namely his classification of hard and soft magic, and his laws of magic. my main curiosity, actually, in opening the book was in how the magic system would play out, even people who are lukewarm on the books had nothing but praise for its detail and integration. but unfortunately both of those points turned out….. laughable. like i was literally laughing at this magic system 90% of the time. i’m a big fan of sci fi, which is where brandon borrowed the labels of hard and soft from (well which i guess in turn borrowed from the real sciences but anyway-). the job of hard sci fi above all is to commit. it’s an entire genre centred around the “why”. you can try to sell me an out-there idea in any genre and i will play along, but the JOB of hard sci fi, the POINT OF INTEREST of it is to indulge that itch to know why, to deliver, no matter how dull, or rambling, the exposition to explain the inner workings of the fantastical. and for mistborn to be considered a “hard” fantasy with a “hard” magic system is just…. embarrassing. allomancy is a mechanic pulled from a video game. you press A, vin’s pewter flares, you press B, it’s bronze. drink metal, gain superpower. like…. i’m trying so hard to buy into this. WHY the fuck does drinking bits of metal interact with an allomancer’s system to do that, what is it about the makeup of each individual metal that makes it do what it does? doesn’t even have to be believable, make up something hokey, but make up SOMETHING! it contradicts itself scene to scene; metal inside your body can’t be affected, but apparently this includes an earring, though technically that’s as “inside” your body as a piece of metal held in someone’s hand? allomancers never carry metal, except for emergency weapons, or inglots, or coins- it’s nonsense! and THIS is the magic system that spawned a generation of imitations, a system that’s celebrated for its logic and mathematic precision and detail? don’t waste my fucking time lol.
even through the haze of the Cult of Sanderson the one caveat you’ll generally see people give is that his prose is not high art. so imagine the reality of it lol. “X ___ed.” there. i just gave you 60% of the sentences in this book, you fill in the blanks. i grew up on YA fantasy and though not being a genre i have desire to return to any time soon even THAT style of writing with all its melodrama angst is more interesting than this, whether mistborn is written the way it is to try to feign some backwards sense of “maturity”, or to pull in the widest berth of readers. it’s almost a remarkable feat, how a text can be so devoid of description yet so bloated. ive read quotes by sanderson on his aversion to “flowery” prose but a book doesnt have to be flowery to be characteristic or evocative, one of the most interestingly-written books ive read this year was Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day, which is at the exact same level of simplicity as mistborn. it just also had…. purpose. and that’s the crux of the issue here isn’t it. nothing in mistborn is purposeful. nothing has intention, or care, nothing goes an inch past surface level. the characters are bland, derivative, nobody speaks with any differentiation (save for the one character that doesnt speak Standard American English and is mocked incessantly by both the characters and the narration for it), it’s just cool Marvel Guy quip, to quirky Marvel Guy quip, back to cool, until the book ends. the main characters follow no consistent characterization or discernible narrative arc, even WITHIN their archetypes, and just act whatever way sanderson decides in that moment would make the scene the coolest. and the side characters just exist to personify one silly trait sanderson gives them and pad out the word count. mistborn is the MCU of fantasy and i mean that in the absolute most derogatory way possible.
all this talk and i haven't even touched the actual plot of this book. but what is there to say? brandon’s aversion to style also leaves him averse to tension and stakes. he tries to introduce moral greyness at many turns, but is so insistent that you are ALWAYS left rooting for the protagonists and thinking they’re soooo badass that the greyness is alleviated before the chapter ends. every element of this book exists to serve the plot and yet the plot is so utterly devoid of meaning or taking a stance any which way that it all feels like an exhausting and genuinely frustrating waste of time. every “message” of this book is either nonsensically centrist, or carelessly sinister. like, what kind of message is a reader supposed to take from that ending? “all men are equal”, “never give up on freedom”, “work within an evil system to try to get to the top and you can change it from the inside”, “never go beyond your inherent biological conditioning or you will destroy the whole world and unleash terrible evilness” …. LOL? brando. we already got that you’re a mormon.
anyway. wow. i could talk about how much i hated every moment of reading this book for another 5000 words but i’m going to stop where there’s still a chance that anybody out there might read this.
honestly, i could forgive a lot of the above if it were from a no-name flop series but it’s from the most popular currently-updating fantasy novel franchise on the planet. and i kind of think that’s allowed to play a role in how seriously i take it. i wouldn't have enjoyed it if we removed that fact from the equation but the fact that this is the series that’s unanimously, ENDLESSLY praised both in and out of the industry- fuck, the guy just made FOURTY-ONE MILLION DOLLARS off his fanbase! like, the glaring flaws glare just that much harder.
fuck this book. fuck every moment of this reading experience. i need a drink.
PS: if i ever see anyone say “sanderlanche” instead of simply “climax” in front of me ever again,