Court of Broken Knives

I am an on-off reader of fantasy, partially due to the lack of time I have for reading, which means I really have to focus my decisions to the currently relevant. My fantasy reading has recently been limited to Guy Gavriel Kay (because he has always been my favourite writer) and Miles Cameron, because I know the man, and he is a DUDE! Thus I might have let this one slip by had I not bumped into the author at a convention in Scarborough the year before its publication and thought ‘that sounds interesting. I’ll have to give that a read.’

I will start by saying that it’s perhaps not the easiest read. If you are looking for Pratchett or Eddings or the like, keep looking. But to clarify, I find there are two types of novel into which I can generally categorise everything I read. Some are easy reads. They are like a horse race, where you get caught up in the speed and excitement and dragged break-neck to the end. They are excitement and fun and glory and I love ’em (in movie terms let’s say Kingsman). Other novels can be harder to read, but perhaps have a different sort of reward, pushing you to a more cerebral experience (in movie terms I might offer Schindler’s List). I read fewer of this sort of book, but that does not mean they are not as good or have less to offer. Quite the contrary, in fact. Court of Broken Knives for me fits into that second category. I have pushed myself in its reading, but it has paid off in interesting ways.

I had no preconceptions going into the novel. Plot, I will deal with first. And I will be careful. You know I hate spoilers. The opening plot is simple enough. A party of mercenaries on their way to a foreign city to kill a bunch of people. And those who hired them in the city maneuvering politically throughout. Seems reasonable. A good plot, in fact. Then at maybe 40-50% of the book, everything changes. The plot takes a side alley, zig-zags to lose any anticipated ideas, does a few loop the loops and comes out the other side leaving you rubbing your eyes and wondering if Machiavelli’s line is strong and running in London bloodlines. Other than this I am not going to touch on plot. Just… experience it.

There are two strengths to this novel that stand out for me.

One is the writing itself. Smith-Spark’s prose is far from your standard fare. It is often jagged, broken, staccato. It sometimes flounces and flows into the brain, but often comes at you like knives (quite appropriately, I suppose). In doing so it manages to convey something that is lost in a more commonplace style. There is utter, raw emotion in the prose. Some is first person, some third, some past tense, some present, and the point of view leaps between a number of principle characters. The language is sometimes beautiful and haunting, sometimes sharp and horrifying. But in this manner, it is always refreshing, and I have enjoyed it. It is a style of writing I will long remember and appreciate.

The other is character. Let me say from the outset that this novel is full of utter bastards. There are few people in it who I would give the time of day, and those who are good and sympathetic are so riddled with doubt and demons that they are morally bankrupt anyway. This is a novel FULL of anti-heroes. And you find yourself supporting one against another. Because something about Smith Spark’s characterisation carries the genius of making the irredeemably wicked and unpleasant oddly lovable. I cared about characters I had no right caring about and should really have been rooting for the demise of. Oh, and there’s plenty of that, too. Anthony Riches and myself both have something of a rep for brutally offing important characters. Smith-Spark is no slacker in that department.

In short, prepare yourself for a Machiavellian bloodbath of epic proportions, full of lovably loathsome characters. Settle in, light the fire, pour a fine scotch, and marvel at this new fantasy world.

The Court of Broken Knives is an oddly fascinating gem.