An Adventure the Questions Empire

I’ve been thinking recently – and this one has helped me crystallize some of my loose ideas – that there’s a distinction in what they call “high fantasy.” By definition such work imagines empire, imagines some idea of order that stands in contrast to the “low” chaos that some antagonist offers. (Never mind that most of the best recent fantasies – Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, The Night Circus, The Vorrh, Jerusalem, Harry Potter, and even The Magicians – don’t deal with empire at all.)

In any case, I think there’s a line to draw between books that have a yearning for empire – as Tolkien taught all of us – and those that have a memory of empire. The distinction sets up much of the action of the novel, but I think it also establishes its politics. Books like The Lord of the Rings are, whether we realize it or not, fundamentally conservative. They want to restore that lost order and, even if they champion the capacity for characters to conceive of something new, that diminishes the potential of the individual outside the whole. Frodo is magnificent, of course, but he is so – as he only gradually learns – within the context of a great and lost kingdom of men. He can never be great by the standards of that empire; at best (and he is at best) he can be only a heroic commoner whom the great condescend to reward.

In books that have only a memory of empire, though – and that’s mostly the case with Game of Thrones – we get abiding skepticism about what came before. Empire isn’t lauded as a lost Eden; it’s seen as a persistent threat to the individual, to the character who has real and personal dreams.

I say all that because, while Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City has its flaws, it opens with a refreshing contempt for empire. Orhan is an engineer who finds himself accidentally the ranking officer in charge of defending a great city – think Rome or Byzantium – from an existential threat. He’s no fan of the empire; its clients wiped out his village when he was a child, and he has risen in its ranks even though his milk-colored skin marks him as an outsider and other.

Still, he takes on the task as if its another of the bridges he knows how to design. He’s drawn less by loyalty and ethics than by the simple engineering challenge of the operation.

That tells you much of the politics of this novel. In many ways, it has a deep cynicism toward everything. Orhan turns out to be more of a scoundrel than we might imagine. On top of that, Parker explores some of what it means to have an unreliable narrator recording his own deeds. Yes, Orhan makes one brilliant (or fortunate) decision after another, but he admits outright that it’s his story and he might, every so often, be exaggerating.

The primary fun of this is its focus on the problems of design. Orhan has to solve one crisis after another and, early on especially, it’s refreshing to get such nitty-gritty. This is an empire that turns not on the hoped-for return of the king but rather – literally – on a nail. Can they recover or fashion enough of them to repair and sustain the siege engines they need to resist the attackers?

I’ll confess that I think this gets weaker toward the end. [SPOILER:] I’m no fan of the plot twist that has the leader of the assembled army be Orhan’s long-lost childhood friend; as the two survivors of their village, they’ve both risen around the threat of the empire and its troops.

[Second SPOILER:] While I like the tone of the end of this when an accident alters the course of Orhan’s life and we’re shown how the siege looks to observers centuries later, it felt a bit as if Parker had run out of ideas. That’s not entirely a bad thing, though, since it largely reflects that he offered so many terrific and clever ideas in those early parts.

In the end, though, what redeems this from just a clever premise is its willingness to question the prevailing perspective of the genre. A little like Joe Abercrombie in The Blade Itself – but with a very different tone – it remembers what its world was like when an empire put everything into an order that gave little room for the self to blossom. It remembers empire, but it doesn’t yearn for it.

18 people found this helpful

wonderful book

I didn't think I could find another audiobook I'd enjoy after listening to Steven Pacey read The First Law series. I was wrong. This book has similar terrific somewhat dark humor. The narrator is perfect. The story is smart and entertaining the entire way through. I'm sad it's over.

8 people found this helpful

Please, Audible, MORE KJ PARKER NOVELS!

Another entertaining KJ Parker read. I highly recommend Parker’s work to fans of ancient and medieval history—despite his work not being historical fiction; to fans of fantasy—despite there being no magic presented in the narrative; to fans of comedy—especially to those who prefer the dark, ironic, and clever sort of delivery that sometimes makes you uncomfortable for laughing at it.

Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City isn’t my favorite novel of Parker’s. That honor goes to The Folding Knife, or perhaps Sharps... maybe Devices and Desires. Then again, his collection of short fiction, Academic Exercises, might just take the cake. I really like his work. A lot.

But Sixteen Ways is special, because it is the first of Parker’s novels available from Audible. Audiobooks happen to be my preferred method of reading. Because I like Parker so much, I’m willing to make my eyes tired and take six months to finish one of his books in print. But I’d much rather listen to one of his books in a day and a half, as I did with Sixteen. Please, Audible, give us more!

4 people found this helpful

starts off slow

It gets better and better as the book goes on. While the main character professes to be a non violent intellectual, he sure does punch a lot of people in the face. A satisfying non ending. I look forward to reading the next book.

3 people found this helpful

Great Story for the Right People!

If you have ever fancied yourself as a tactician, strategist, engineer or just enjoyed siege games then this book is for you! This story artfully conveys the challenges of defending the equivalent of a city in medieval times intertwined with interesting subplots and creative writing. It does so with colorful characters and surprising plot twist. The narration is slower than I am used to and the limited range of character voices made it hard to follow who was talking at times. Nonetheless I looked past that to enjoy the book. Do not look for a sequel to this story. It is a stand alone story. A snapshot of an epic struggle from a distant time and far off place.

3 people found this helpful

original fun, not a common thing now a days

loved it, laughed with it. enjoyed it. I'm not a fan of these type of books (the fantasy type that is), I prefer science fiction, but this one I loved

2 people found this helpful

great book and a narrator that just to it

great book and a narrator that just to it. a very dry humor that is delivered exactly as I would have pictured.

1 person found this helpful

and oddly enjoyable book

for about 3/4s of the book I wasn't sold. I found it plodding and somewhat dull at times but there is a joke towards the end that won me over and I grew to love it. the narrator's diction is really slow. listening at 1.25 speed fixed it for me. it's funny and insightful and unique with a lovable flawed protagonist.

A fun listen.

I am never disappointed by this author, and save up his books for when I need a laugh especially. The reader was great too, and I. hope to hear more from him.

Brilliant writing. Transcends the premise

Much like in Andy Weir's "The Martian," the protagonist of this book is a problem solver. Orhan is an inventor, gadgeteer, and mechanical engineer. Often, the physics and logistics problems take the forefront of the story and the character's thoughts.

But unlike the story of a single engineer working alone, the cynical and self-despising Orhan must solve his hardest problems among, with, and for...other people. Lots of them. These are people who don't much care for him, or for each other, or even for the problem of their own survival.

Initially, it seems that the author is sweeping aside the usual institutional and bureaucratic barriers for his main character, letting Orhan get away with stepping into the power vacuum of a beseiged city. But as the stakes rise from the mere survival of a single city to genocide and the whole sweep of future history, the author shifts into a new and more powerful storytelling gear. Startling personal revelations about Orhan's past fit seamlessly into the escalating tension of the plot. Just as we gain a deeper understanding of how this middle-aged engineer became the way he is, the crisis of the present seems to be an eerie echo of his decisions and mistakes of the past.

The humanity of this book outshines the well-told military and mechanical aspects. Orhan sometimes does manage to solve complex people-problems by growing into the role of an effective leader, but sometimes not. Some of his people rise to the roles and challenges he defines for them, and some still let him down. At the start of the siege, one of the scarcest commodities he's got is his supply of "give a damn" about others. This resource is constantly depleted by the people of his own side, and sapped by the enemy.

It all rings beautifully true. The epilogue is poignant. Ray Sawyer delivers a drily humorous and ruminant performance which neatly fits Orhan's own sardonic, self-critical account of events.

In all, this is the best novel I have read in years. Looking forward to the other book in the series.