Path of the Guiding Light, by Sharon K. Middleton, FEB 2021 LTER
Talk Reviews of Early Reviewers Books
Join LibraryThing to post.
1LyndaInOregon
Disclaimer: An electronic copy of this book was provided in exchange for review by publishers Black Rose Writing, via Library Thing.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We’re gonna start this one out with a plea to those folks who provide the synopses of books being offered for review – in the name of all that’s holy, **please** indicate if the book is part of a series. Don't let it be a surprise when the reading copy arrives and is subtitled "Book Whatever of the XYZ Series".
It’s not fair to reviewers to ask them to write with one hand tied behind their back, so to speak. It’s not fair to the potential reader, who won’t be given enough information to decide whether this series ought to go onto the TBR list. And it’s not fair to the author, even though they must shoulder part of the blame by creating a series that requires the reader to come armed with the backstories of the characters.
In fact, one might make a pretty good argument that vanishingly few series entries actually make for a satisfying reading experience as stand-alones; ‘Path of the Guiding Light’ being a pretty good case in point.
First, this is an oddball genre – a fantasy historical novel with time travel, and is therefore encumbered with all the unwieldy luggage which time travel stories insist on schlepping around with them. Second, there is a vast cast of characters, existing in various timestreams (which do not all flow at the same speed), who have somehow woven multiple relationships with one another in the backstory, and most of whom seem to jaunt back and forth through time as if it were the revolving door at Saks Fifth Avenue. Third, many of the characters are known by multiple names which change as their time milieus swap around.
We have a contemporary woman who has gone back in time to lead her Cherokee ancestors west in advance of the disastrous Trail of Tears era. We have an 18th-century Irishman who has come forward in search of his missing wife and children, said wife who was initially his slave and therefore might realistically be reluctant to go back with him, should that be his intent. We have the slave/wife who has just discovered her contemporary husband fathered a child with another woman before he went back in time to bring her forward. We have characters who are given names but not much backstory, yet whose relationships are important in forwarding the plot and determining the actions of the multiple narrators, most of whom are wandering around in time, which no one seems to feel is the least bit unusual.
This multiplicity of story lines by necessity takes away from what one might have assumed, going in, was its core – the decisions faced by Baylie Smith, aka Path of the Guiding Light, aka Guider, as her determination to evacuate the Cohutta Cherokees ahead of the disastrous Trail of Tears removal smacks into a heart-wrenching personal choice.
Yet with a typical time travel paradox, we know that the early removal of the Cohutta did in fact occur, so either Baylie (or someone else) will complete / will have completed the task, which allowed her to be present in the 21st century. And this is another reason why time travel novels are so problematical.
It’s a bone-deep flaw in the whole framework. Middleton is very casual about the existence and operating parameters of whatever time-shifting device (entity? natural phenomenon?) makes all this chronometric galloping about possible. We don’t know where it’s located. Don’t know how it works. Don’t know why it seems to be locked between two specific time periods for a single location as opposed to randomly snatching up and depositing people at arbitrary timepoints around the globe. We are told only that it doesn’t work “unless you’re supposed to go”. This is as handy for a writer as a deep, dark well in the back yard, down which characters can be dropped when their part in the story is over, or rescued later if need be. It’s less satisfying for the reader, because it falls midway between a permanent deus ex machina and a primary killer of suspense – will the hero succeed in the “then”? Well, yes, because otherwise the “now” would be different. So why are we bothering to read any farther?
And that’s the question, really, isn’t it? The answer depends on whether the reader is familiar with the earlier books in the series, can keep the characters straight, and/or has developed an interest in finding out what happens next. For the reader who can’t check off any of the above boxes, this one is probably better passed over.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We’re gonna start this one out with a plea to those folks who provide the synopses of books being offered for review – in the name of all that’s holy, **please** indicate if the book is part of a series. Don't let it be a surprise when the reading copy arrives and is subtitled "Book Whatever of the XYZ Series".
It’s not fair to reviewers to ask them to write with one hand tied behind their back, so to speak. It’s not fair to the potential reader, who won’t be given enough information to decide whether this series ought to go onto the TBR list. And it’s not fair to the author, even though they must shoulder part of the blame by creating a series that requires the reader to come armed with the backstories of the characters.
In fact, one might make a pretty good argument that vanishingly few series entries actually make for a satisfying reading experience as stand-alones; ‘Path of the Guiding Light’ being a pretty good case in point.
First, this is an oddball genre – a fantasy historical novel with time travel, and is therefore encumbered with all the unwieldy luggage which time travel stories insist on schlepping around with them. Second, there is a vast cast of characters, existing in various timestreams (which do not all flow at the same speed), who have somehow woven multiple relationships with one another in the backstory, and most of whom seem to jaunt back and forth through time as if it were the revolving door at Saks Fifth Avenue. Third, many of the characters are known by multiple names which change as their time milieus swap around.
We have a contemporary woman who has gone back in time to lead her Cherokee ancestors west in advance of the disastrous Trail of Tears era. We have an 18th-century Irishman who has come forward in search of his missing wife and children, said wife who was initially his slave and therefore might realistically be reluctant to go back with him, should that be his intent. We have the slave/wife who has just discovered her contemporary husband fathered a child with another woman before he went back in time to bring her forward. We have characters who are given names but not much backstory, yet whose relationships are important in forwarding the plot and determining the actions of the multiple narrators, most of whom are wandering around in time, which no one seems to feel is the least bit unusual.
This multiplicity of story lines by necessity takes away from what one might have assumed, going in, was its core – the decisions faced by Baylie Smith, aka Path of the Guiding Light, aka Guider, as her determination to evacuate the Cohutta Cherokees ahead of the disastrous Trail of Tears removal smacks into a heart-wrenching personal choice.
Yet with a typical time travel paradox, we know that the early removal of the Cohutta did in fact occur, so either Baylie (or someone else) will complete / will have completed the task, which allowed her to be present in the 21st century. And this is another reason why time travel novels are so problematical.
It’s a bone-deep flaw in the whole framework. Middleton is very casual about the existence and operating parameters of whatever time-shifting device (entity? natural phenomenon?) makes all this chronometric galloping about possible. We don’t know where it’s located. Don’t know how it works. Don’t know why it seems to be locked between two specific time periods for a single location as opposed to randomly snatching up and depositing people at arbitrary timepoints around the globe. We are told only that it doesn’t work “unless you’re supposed to go”. This is as handy for a writer as a deep, dark well in the back yard, down which characters can be dropped when their part in the story is over, or rescued later if need be. It’s less satisfying for the reader, because it falls midway between a permanent deus ex machina and a primary killer of suspense – will the hero succeed in the “then”? Well, yes, because otherwise the “now” would be different. So why are we bothering to read any farther?
And that’s the question, really, isn’t it? The answer depends on whether the reader is familiar with the earlier books in the series, can keep the characters straight, and/or has developed an interest in finding out what happens next. For the reader who can’t check off any of the above boxes, this one is probably better passed over.
