I don’t typically feel the urge to write full-length reviews; as a matter of fact, I’ve never written a full-length review. Yet in the month following the completion of its final book, I’ve felt compelled to write one for The Long Price Quartet, largely due to its relatively underrated status. I cannot only say it was one of my favorite reads of 2021, but now one of my favorite fantasy series of all time.
The Long Price Quartet is a fantasy epic on an intimate scale. This is a story that thrives in quietude and lingers in the melancholy of twilight. The plot is influenced by outside actors — at least initially — but the narrative is anchored by the point-of-view characters and shaped by the choices they make. The saga almost entirely takes place across the cities of the Khaiem, vestigial remnants of a once-united empire that nevertheless remains a formidable force due to the magic they wield. The might of the Khaiem is tested by the Galts, an expansionist state desiring the end of Khaiate dominance. It is on this geopolitical stage the drama is set.
Central to the Long Price Quartet are the andat — concepts bound to human form, captured and held by “poets” in service to the cities of the Khaiem. This is far and away my favorite depiction of magic in a fantasy series to date. Essential to the Khaiate economy and defense, the andat are not only central to the plot and worldbuilding, but inexorably entwined with the characters who bound them. They have the power to reshape the world — or to break it. They are spellbinding, manipulative, and downright unnerving, the uncanny valley achieved in literary form. They’re also among the series’ most memorable characters.
Indeed, it’s the characters, their dynamics, and their dilemmas that are the beating heart of the Quartet. I love the way Abraham handles character and the messy complexity of human relationships. There’s a peculiar mundaneness to his approach that makes them feel lived-in, down-to-earth and real to me, even as he plays with classical high fantasy tropes such as the secret noble. These are characters that can truly grow on you as the series progresses. You’ll feel for them and question them. At times, they will frustrate you in the most wonderful way.
Otah, Maati, Eiah, Heshai, Ana, Seedless… these are just some of the characters that inhabit Abraham’s dramatic stage and impressed on me as a reader. I must give special mention to Amat Kyaan, however. Introduced in A Shadow in Summer, Amat is the 58-year-old overseer of the Galtic House Wilsin — a decidedly atypical fantasy point-of-view. Amat is measured, skilled at her job, and tough as nails. She’s a character grounded in the society she lives in, but bound by her own personal principles and suffused with a civic pride for Saraykeht, the city she calls home.
One of the more unique structural aspects of the series is the length of time it spans: each book is followed by a fifteen year time jump. Abraham employs this diachronic framework to poignant effect, enabling us not only to watch but feel the central characters age, reckon with the paths they’ve tread, and witness the consequences of their choices — for themselves, for their families, for their world. It lends a deep sense of melancholy to the story, that can prompt one to reflect upon their own mortality and roads not taken. This structure also renders the Quartet into a generational saga of sorts, as characters who are conceived in the first and second books are notable figures in the third and fourth.
Abraham shines at moral complexity, presenting his characters with dilemmas that have no clear or easy answer. What happens when the pursuit of justice risks unleashing a greater injustice? What does it mean to love without trust? How does one best rebuild after catastrophe — by seeking to reverse the damage done and return to the status quo, or by accepting the new reality and forging a new path ahead in a shattered world? Moreover, he crafts antagonists with understandable motives; more than once did I find myself sympathizing with their perspective.
Other small things I loved about the Quartet: intercultural dynamics; the role of language; the anticipatory dread which precedes real or potential horrors. I was also impressed by the author’s restrained, mature handling of a decidedly triangular relationship dynamic at one point in the story.
Abraham’s worldbuilding is minimalistic compared to the likes of Jordan or Martin; he generally eschews lengthy asides about history and culture, preferring to reveal details as they relate to the characters and their day-to-day experiences. While this occasionally inspires questions about the broader setting, I believe it works for the story he’s telling. The only element that feels a tad undercooked in this regard is perhaps religion.
Each volume of the Quartet is relatively self-contained with its own central plot. If I had to identify a weak link in the saga, it’d probably be A Betrayal in Winter, the second book in the series. I didn’t find the central conflict quite as challenging as those in other volumes, and the denouement felt rather simplistic, even if the road to get there was not. And although Abraham continued to deliver great character work with returning faces (and a couple new ones), the main antagonist didn’t quite land for me in the way I’d hoped in this book. That said, this isn’t a bad novel in the least — even my least favorite LPQ is a solid read.
“If there’s any justice, this should be a contender for all the major awards,” George R.R. Martin once wrote of An Autumn War. Unfortunately, it didn’t; despite positive critical acclaim, the series failed to garner any nominations, and from what I can tell, wasn’t exactly a sales hit either. Fortunately, if chatter is anything to go by, it appears I’m not the only reader who fell for this series in 2021, which is lovely to see.
This is a unique, solid, slow-burn high fantasy that eschews action sequences for most of its run. While it won’t be to everyone’s tastes, I’d recommend giving it a shot if you’re looking for…
— character-focused, slow-burn storytelling with world-changing and personal stakes
— a novel magic system central to story, worldbuilding, and characterization
— intrigue, both between and within polities and individuals
— a rather short epic fantasy series: I read the omnibus edition, but the four books are only around 350 pages each individually