✎Title: The Copper Promise (#1)
✎Author: Jen Williams
✎Publication date: 13th February 2014
The Copper Promise isn’t a good fantasy novel that demonstrates expertly how epic fantasy should be approached and handled in a modern and inclusive sense—it is a killer of a fantasy novel that is indicative of how the classic genre of sword and sorcery is not only still very much alive, but also still the best the genre has to offer. Williams’ debut novel is stellar, proving that regardless of how much progressive experimentation there is within a genre and how far it stretches its branches from the centre of the tree, the roots, the trunk, the boughs closest to the heart of the tree can—and do—still bear the choicest of fruit.
And The Copper Promise is some fruit.
This book will take you places—in fact, it will take you all around the world and back again. With a freshly woken god bent on destruction and a job gone south very quickly, the Copper Cat of Crosshaven will have to do more than just fulfil the “copper promise” in order to set things right. With former Ynnsmouth knight, Sebastian, by her side as usual, as her literal partner-in-crime, Wydrin thinks this newest gig will be over soon enough and then they’ll be nursing a pouch of gold coins, saying goodbye to the uptight Lord Frith and settling down for a well-deserved pint. But the history Lord Aaron Frith is carrying is heavier than either Wydrin or Sebastian could guess and soon they will find themselves just as entangled in his plight for revenge as Frith himself. Pitting themselves against magic and skill and the fearful man behind all of Lord Frith’s torment, they will have their work cut out.
And that’s not even mentioning the newly awakened god, bent on destruction and death. And gods that happen to be dragons are not the kind easily reasoned with. Hungry for blood and death and with a brood army at her back, things are not looking good. How exactly do you kill a dragon—how exactly do you kill a god?
With the magic of the mages gone from the world, trapped in the very same citadel in which the gods were imprisoned, there doesn’t seem to be much hope. But something must be done, and soon, because the brood army is on the march and its skilled warriors leave no survivors behind.
And yet what if there could be a divide in the brood army itself? Could there be hope? And if there was a mage left in the world, would there be a chance of defeating Y’Ruen and her green-skinned, golden-armoured brood?
But ifs won’t kill a dragon, and someone has to. Only, how is it possible to survive the proximity of a death-bent god, let alone kill it?
Wydrin and co. will have no choice but to find out. And quickly.
Reading this book felt like reading a Dragon Age adventure: I could practically see the locations, the cut-scenes, the encounters, the NPCs, the dialogue, the quest markers—everything. And let me just make this clear: this is a good thing. I love Dragon Age. In fact, it’s practically the only video game I still play, so that’s saying something. But something about The Copper Promise had me hooked from the very beginning. It wasn’t just the expert writing, the gorgeous development of character and subtle inclusion of differences to the norm, or the way in which Williams brings to life a vast, deep and varied world populated with real denizens that made this book just so unputdownably excellent—but they certainly helped. Overall it was the sense of completely confident plotting, pacing, and sense of unashamedly pure homage to classic sword and sorcery that made this book a contender for “Leo’s favourite book ever”.
I said, some time ago, in a review for Spellwright by Blake Charlton, that “classic fantasy will never die”—and The Copper Promise is just the sort of book that further adds to that sentiment. It felt unashamedly good to delve into a world inhabited by gods and monsters and knights and rogues and mages. I started reading fantasy for precisely all these things; when I write, I write about these things. Fantasy is many things, but before it was anything at all, it was this.
Williams is an astoundingly exciting writer in that there is an energy to her prose that makes it come alive. I expect that she will become an inspiration, her energetic and solid prose becoming a go-to reference as to how to write damn good fantasy and how to move so naturally away from everything that earlier fantasy giants’ work lacked. There’s homosexuality, there’s racial differences, religious variety—and none of it is shoehorned or set on a pedestal for exhibition. It is subtly woven into the tapestry of Williams’ world just as it is into real life. This is precisely how it should be, and Williams gets boatloads of kudos for knowing how to do this right.
What I loved most about The Copper Promise is its host of perfectly imperfect characters that at once pay homage and raise their hats to the old mainstays of fantasy—the rogue, the knight, the mage—whilst simultaneously switching up everything you ever thought you knew about these stereotypes. I’ve talked before on Fantasy Faction about homosexuality and the desire to see a gay knight with honour and stuff and boom! (It’s the mildest of spoilers, but implied from the beginning (imo) so there’s no harm done.) Williams delivers.
The Copper Promise is the kind of book I didn’t want to end. I don’t reread books, so once a book is done, it’s done. But damn, I wish I did—because this would be the first. From page four or five I was garbling to anyone who would listen about just how excellent a story it is and how they simply must read it. By the halfway point…I could talk for hours. This is one of those books I had a hunch about. Sometimes these books are—ironically—the books I don’t seem to float in the right circles to blag an ARC of, and so have to gnash at my nails, awaiting publication day. I don’t even care by this point, because this book was just so astronomically brilliant that I’d have probably trekked from here to Timbuktu to acquire it. And with fibromyalgia, that’s quite the statement.
I want more of precisely this brand of fantasy; I want people to write it so I can read it and I want to write it so people can read it, and thus the karmic cycle of bloody epic, epic fantasy can continue ad infinitum. I can’t express more than I already have just why you should read this book—only that you should. From the clever little nudge-nudge-wink-wink moments where classic ideas and descriptions, back from when dinosaurs roamed the fantasy shelves, are suggested, only to be dismissed with a snigger or a rude word from Wydrin, to the simple normalcy of family loyalty, the notion of life before or between the next adventure, and strong friendship everything feels so well-tuned, well-oiled and set together so skilfully that Williams should—and will—be writing comfortably in the genre for the rest of her life.
And if not—I want to know why.
Because she rocks. (I’m going to stop pretending to have sensible, clever things to say now, mainly because I just want to fanboy a bit and do a bit of ‘shipping. Excuse me.)