Edith's Reviews > The Road to Jerusalem

Nordic or Saxon-based fantasy or historical novels, when written by those outside of the respective countries, tend to turn into a gamut of stereotypical scenarios involving ale and whore houses, lootin' and pillagin', and some booze fueled mano a mano manly combat, with some barbaric execution and torture practices thrown in for good measure. All this is supposed to exude that rugged sense of manhood and bonding and brotherhood that kept life going in the longhouses on the icy land. Instead these just present a crass, stereotypical view of life in the north. In today's post-Tolkien fantasy realm (such as Game of Thrones) where the audiences crave that "gritty, realistic" factor in their stories about heroes of bygone era, I'm happy to find a story that neither whitewashes the past, but also doesn't depend on shock value or lowbrow humor to please the reader.

Instead the story moves forward through engaging dialog between characters. Sometimes the conversations help characters develop their internal compass as they grapple with decisions. Other times the dialogues are more for the reader, helping them navigate the complex ties of politics, kinship, and Nordic customs as they are happening, without resorting to a clumsy info-dump. The quasi-omniscient perspective is also used well, and it explains events according to the worldview of the person witnessing it (such as when there is a "miraculous" event), but not in a way that's pushy to the reader, but rather helps them understand the mental process of the characters better. It's also used well to introduce humor into the story, when the characters thought one way but the reader understood otherwise.

As for the plot itself. I was initially interested in reading a historical novel set during the Crusades, and was grumpy to find out that this first volume takes place entirely in medieval Sweden, and mostly concerned the childhood and youth of the protagonist Arn, as well as the clan intrigues in the country before its unification. Bah, just a bunch of longboats, long names and family lineages, and drunken swordfights >.<. And it has a cast list in the beginning organized by clans and lineage. But the author introduced the complex political tangles and clan relationships and rivalries in an engaging manner. Even the main character's youth growing up in a Cistercian monastery (what I thought would be the slowest part of the story) is very interesting. The details of everyday life, the philosophical conversations, and the personality of the brothers brought the experience to life, and makes the reader identify with Arn's spiritual upbringing and the way it shaped his outlook in the base world beyond the walls. (But then I might be more enthusiastic about monastic life than most).

The ultimate tension in this volume was how this young man would fare out in the world, where his values acquired from the brothers from the simple, cloistered life would come into tension with the practices of his kinsmen in matters such as having to choose between the comparative evils of strategic murder or even regicide, or risk inflicting greater harm through civil war; and through the process the character grows up and reconsiders his point of view. (A contemplative, self-searching protagonist - something bildungsroman heroes don't do enough, as they typically just rage or mope). In the next volume, I'd imagine this tension between what he learned inside the cloister will be found deficient against the reality as he encounters the much maligned Saracens; and yet he would preserve what the wise monks [despite their own prejudices] taught him about how man will ultimately be held accountable for exercising his own free will in matters of judgment.