Last Argument of Kings

While the title doesn't demand attention to the same degree as [b:Before They Are Hanged|902715|Before They Are Hanged (The First Law, #2)|Joe Abercrombie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1179318094l/902715._SY75_.jpg|2116927], it's certainly the most accurate. With the journey to the Edge of the World having ended in failure, Bayaz' company parts ways; Logen returns to the North to aid the Union army and whatever old friends he's yet to alienate in the effort against Bethod. Bayaz exerts and expands his hold on the Closed Council, and begins to show more interest in the career of Jezal dan Luthar than ever before. Also in Adua is Inquisitor Glokta, whose loyalties become increasingly conflicted show more while trying to curry favour for the Arch Lector, and whose subplot continues to function like a crime fiction novel that somehow got caught up in an epic fantasy series.

The characters remain as antiheroic as ever, but with the benefit of hindsight and rereading Jezal stands out more than ever because he undergoes the most change out of every character, beginning as a classist, egotistical twat, and becoming a slightly less classist, egotistical twat, though that isn't to sell everyone else short. Glokta remains the most enjoyable POV character to read; no one is spared from his dry humour, and I especially enjoy his interactions with Ardee; every conversation they have is a highlight. They really seem to be meant for each other; they work off each other well, and they both provide astute observations of Union politics. They also have different but oddly similar backgrounds that parallel each other, on reflection, both of them being pariahs for different reasons; Glokta being a veteran who's been rejected by the "polite" society that once gave him nothing but the utmost respect, and Ardee being a commoner who got left behind by her social climber of a brother and lives in a city that cares nothing for people of her standing.

Logen's also equally compelling, albeit for slightly different reasons than before. Returning to the North changes him a great deal, although it's not really a change so much as a reversion; he seems to be a significantly better person whenever he puts as much difference between himself and the North as possible (though [b:Red Country|13521459|Red Country (First Law World, #6)|Joe Abercrombie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1333663008l/13521459._SY75_.jpg|19082135] throws some doubt on this). As soon as he reunites with his old allies in the North, however, he more or less reverts to the barbarian with flexible morals that he's always been storied to be, if only out of a believed obligation to uphold his reputation as the Bloody-Nine. It's especially obvious during that chapter where Bethod rightly takes Logen to task for his many transgressions, a chapter which gutted me the first time and somehow had the same effect the second. Which is why I've always found it strange that some people apparently consider Logen a sweetheart who just happens to have a possible split personality that brings violence and death with him wherever he treads, to which I say... well, he's not necessarily without good qualities, but I take issue with that description because of that chapter where he kills some allies and fails to admit guilt and assume responsibility for it. With that in mind, I strongly encourage such people to carefully reread the chapter "Leaves on the Water", or failing that, read the short story "Made a Monster" from [b:Sharp Ends|26030742|Sharp Ends (First Law World, #7)|Joe Abercrombie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1456696097l/26030742._SY75_.jpg|45956909], which outlines in detail how and why Logen deserves every bit of his reputation as a capricious, homicidal, indiscriminate, and elemental force that regards his fellow man as target practice.

While [b:Best Served Cold|2315892|Best Served Cold|Joe Abercrombie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347732723l/2315892._SY75_.jpg|2322406] might have a bit of an edge over this book in this regard, [b:The Last Argument of Kings|944076|Last Argument of Kings (The First Law, #3)|Joe Abercrombie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1302062699l/944076._SY75_.jpg|929012] has easily the best action in the entire trilogy (yes, I know that's not technically its real title, but sod off, it doesn't feel complete without a definite article). The violence can be over the top, but it also feels oddly downplayed because as chaotic as battles can get, the book never loses sight of whatever character we're seeing through the eyes of at the time.

For me it reaches its peak with the siege of the High Places; it's kind of like Helm's Deep from Lord of the Rings, in that Logen, Black Dow, Harding Grim, and the Dogman are four of a pitifully small army that's vastly outnumbered by a far better organized and nourished belligerent, holding out for several days waiting for reinforcements that might never arrive. There are a couple of key differences, though; the fortress is in severe disrepair, and where Helm's Deep lasted only for one chapter, the siege takes up approximately a third of the entire book, and it's significantly bloodier because... dark fantasy, I guess. Sure, it doesn't hold a candle to the almost apocalyptic scale of the climax, but I find it far more tense because of the steadily depleting supplies and mounting opposition. Of course, there is also the small matter of the Bloody-Nine.

Then there's the ending, which features several injustices and recursive arcs. As far as I can tell, this is easily the most divisive aspect of the entire trilogy, if only because everyone's favourite characters get fucked over, and they get fucked over hard. And look, I get it, it is anticlimactic; purposefully so, and it's the most oddly conclusive (and also the most weirdly rewarding) anticlimax I've yet read, but it's still anticlimactic. You don't have to like it, but it is the right ending for the story Abercrombie tells. Yeah, I hate Bayaz as much as the next guy, and I wish upon him the worst possible setbacks in the Age of Madness trilogy, but it makes sense for him to get what he wants, because why would anyone in their right mind try to spar with someone who can blow someone up and burn down entire forests with a single thought?

Having finished rereading the trilogy as a whole, the ending has also taken on some new context; at first I thought the point of the First Law was to ask "what if a typical high fantasy world was full of realistically flawed people?", but now I've realized I was probably asking the wrong question. It's not that so much as "what might happen if the world was inhabited by realistically flawed and hubristic people like Bayaz and Khalul who see the world not as the place they both live in, but a life-size chessboard that us peasants are just living in?" Keeping that question in mind, this trilogy has taken on far more fridge horror now than it did the first time I read it, but it's a hypothetical scenario that Abercrombie explores to its fullest.

While the recursion of the character arcs seems like something I'd probably take any other book to task for, it's executed in such a way that it makes what should be static characters not feel static in the least. Not only is this because the casual dialogue is decently written and half the fun is just watching everyone work off each other, but it also ties into the larger point [a:Joe Abercrombie|276660|Joe Abercrombie|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1421267339p2/276660.jpg] tries to make, which is, "they are what they are, and that's most likely all they ever will be." Of course, this does bring up the question of why I'm so invested in these books when I know full well that Abercrombie's crushed my hopes and dreams again, and that's something I often ask myself. But then it occurred to me that I was probably so immersed because it felt like a real journey; it's a journey that ends in disappointment, true, but it actually seemed to matter at the time, and I guess that's what really matters.

Having said that, don't let that dissuade you from seeing the trilogy to its completion; it has all the same strengths as its predecessors, and hones in on everything that was good about them, to the point where I think I can safely say Abercrombie's truly mastered his craft. This is something I've said for every book, but the only problem I have with these books is that I wish they did more to differentiate each POV. That's not to say it doesn't do that, there are several subtle differences between them all, but Glokta's written in such a strikingly different way from everyone else that not awarding everyone else the same attention to detail strikes me as a missed opportunity. Other than that, I feel perfectly justified in considering the First Law trilogy second only to Discworld. If you want closure, then do check out the standalones; none of them are necessarily sequels in the most literal sense of the word, and I find them more variable in quality, but they pick up some (though not all) plot threads this book left dangling, and they do much to explore the world beyond the Union. The Age of Madness is also off to a strong start with [b:A Little Hatred|35606041|A Little Hatred (The Age of Madness, #1)|Joe Abercrombie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1558367199l/35606041._SY75_.jpg|57338685], and I look forward to the release of The Trouble With Peace this September. show less

What do you say about a book that leaves you rooting for the twisted, bitter, angry torturer of the Inquisition to win? After all, in the end, he is the only one with clear motives.

Sometimes I feel "the Last Argument of Kings" is a thin excuse for a plot to connect together truly epic battle scenes. Some of these battle scenes are /fantastic/ -- Logen vs. the Feared, Bayaz vs. the Eaters, Bayaz and Yulwei vs. the horrible white demon chick, etc. Sometimes the plot is completely inexplicable. Why do the Northmen follow Collem West to the South to fight the Gurkish and leave the obviously evil Black Dow behind in Carleon? WHO KNOWS? But there's these battles in the Palace involving Eaters absolutely to be believed so that works out in show more its own ways.

This is a book about the ancient personal issues between two very old men who will not leave it enough alone and insist on working through their issues through the power of nations. Bayaz with the Union; Khalul with the Gurkish. They have spent a thousand years fighting over who killed whom in the misty past before either nation existed, and they now control their nations with a cast-iron grip and throw them at one another. They both have their minions, their objects of power, their Kings and their armies. Yet, as Bayaz says many times, magic leaks out of the world. It's become a world of men, not a world of magic. The future will have precious few Eaters or Seeds that flatten entire cities like in the Old World. The future will have banks, and debts, and Mercers, and Spicers, and great trading powers. Who owns the banks owns the kingdoms.

The best viewpoints character is Superior Sand dan Glokta with his dragging toeless foot and twisted back and mouth full of missing teeth. His drive for answers carries the downtime between the grand epic battles. And he receives the answers he seeks, but at a price. A price, it turns out, he is willing to pay.

Joe Abercrombie gets you to care about these black, twisted, horrible characters. From the inside, Logen Ninefingers is a good man but from the point of view of everyone else he is the relentless killer the Bloody-Nine, an alter-ego he can never escape. Sand dan Glokta is twisted on the outside but it hides a mind that relentlessly picks apart the mysteries. Everyone trusts Bayaz but a thousand year old man cares nothing for the daily lives of humanity when he dreams of destroying his brother Khalul. Even Jezel dan Luther loses -- a king trapped in an endless gilded Palace, chosen for his vanity and vacuity who will never be a hero but will always be a peacock for the entertainment of the people while others control the Kingdom.

Good, solid books all three. The trilogy, unlike most, comes to a fairly final end. Strong characters, extremely well written seat piece battles, and lots of blood and disembodied limbs flying around. The Last Argument of Kings was written well enough that I flew through it and blew through the last half of the (700 page) book in a long sitting.

The First Law Trilogy is highly recommend for serious Good Times with Blood and Gore. show less

I wouldn't recommend this series to the romantic or those in search of light-hearted escapism, but I found it thoroughly satisfying, deliciously cynical, ruthlessly amusing. Big, epic, magic-prophecy-and-swords fantasy shaken with jaded realism and strained through poetic justice. Characters who are wonderfully faceted and realistic, making the choices that make sense given their histories, and getting (in all cases) just what they deserve, with a marvellously minimal sense of things being too neat.

It is difficult to give a decent review of Last Argument of Kings, final volume of the First Law trilogy, without some spoilers. So I'm going to split the review into two parts, firstly about the general style and then about the story, with a warning when the spoilers are due.

On the whole, Abercrombie's writing is pretty good – vivid description, good character voicing and development, excellent plotting. Sometimes it reads as though it's short of a final edit; my personal bugbear was how much all the characters 'grimaced'. I was grimacing every time that word came up. I don't know if I just noticed these flaws more in the second and third books, or whether the first was more polished and then the others where slightly rushed. What he show more really excels at is tone. There's a plethora of darker fantasy out there, gritty realism introduced into fantastical settings – I reckon people influenced by reading [a:Robert E. Howard|66700|Robert E. Howard|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1210954603p2/66700.jpg] – where the combat is bloody and dangerous, characters swear in the kind of situations when real people tend to (not made up curses of the “by the teeth of Karvik!” sort, either). A lot of that sort of fantasy, even the good stuff like [a:KJ Parker|240708|K.J. Parker|http://www.goodreads.com/images/nophoto/nophoto-F-50x66.jpg] and [a:China Mieville], tends to be a bit on the humourless side. Abercrombie has a deft hand with tone, creating real tension and then relieving it with humour without descending into farce or any danger of becoming 'comic fantasy'. With several of the main characters we get a third person view (hearing?) of their inner monologues, which helps us get to know them through their foibles and self doubts but with which he also does a nice little trick. Each of these characters has little repetitive phrases that recur sporadically – Logen Ninefingers muttering “still alive” after every fight, Glokta asking himself “why do I do this?” or musing on the possibility of being found floating in the docks. This would be an easy tool to overuse, and become extremely annoying, but used sparingly it helps to cement the character voices as well as the plot structure, as leit motifs which both mirror past events and foreshadow future ones. The fight scenes are satisfyingly bloody, although I think he overdoes this somewhat. While not all the fights are described in detail, a few more could have been glossed over. Because Abercrombie has to keep finding different ways to describe the splatter of blood and the mutilation of body parts, it does become a little strained by the end and somewhat overshadows the feelings of the characters involved in the violence, which earlier on took precedence. Perhaps four stars is a little generous, but I think they are deserved for ambition and achievement.

Now, on to the review of the story and the inevitable spoilers.

Any genre of fiction has its themes and tropes, its styles and conventions, with which most of the readership are familiar. [a:Terry Pratchett|1654|Terry Pratchett|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1235562205p2/1654.jpg]'s early Discworld novels are a classic example of an author taking these conventions and twisting them for effects both comedic and social commentary. If you read Pratchett without knowing these tropes you're missing half the jokes. It's like reading the Dilbert cartoons without having worked in an office.

In heroic fantasy two of the big conventions are the mighty-thewed hero – often a Northern barbarian, usually smarter than he's given credit for, sometimes prone to berserk battle rages – and the centuries- or millennia-old wizard who watches over the world trying to steer civilisation and/or thwart the machinations of his dark adversary, often by use of pet heroes. In The First Law trilogy we have Logen Ninefingers, most feared warrior in the North, and Bayaz, First of the Magi. It is the riffs that Abercrombie plays with these conventions are what really makes these books worth reading.

Logen is a trouble magnet. We first meet him barely surviving a fight which leads to him falling from a cliff (the common trait of heroes in any genre is a huge amount of luck, both good and bad). We find that he is considered the most dangerous man in the North, but seeing him in a series of fights we wonder whether this is just luck. He is tough and capable, but seems no more so than his erstwhile companions, a group of other Northern 'named men', fighters who have made their names in battle. Until, at the end of the first book, we see Logen in his berserk rage, an unstoppable killing machine who recognises neither friend nor foe, just targets to be slain. And Abercrombie makes this interesting by introducing a touch of reality. Logen knows what he is. He has been fighting and killing for too many years and is sick of it. Not only does he know that he has killed companions in the blood heat of battle, he looks around and sees that everyone is either terrified of him or bears him hatred and blood feud, or both. But war is all he has known and, as someone remarks, the better you get at killing the less use you are for anything else. Logen makes the resolution to try and be a better man, but his only use is as a warrior, a killer.

Bayaz is a wizard more in the mould of [a:David Eddings|8732|David Eddings|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1223870462p2/8732.jpg]' Belgareth than of Gandalf. In appearance, a hale and hearty individual of late middle years, grey haired but solid and no nonsense, he doesn't mind becoming involved and getting his hands dirty. We only meet him going on for half way through the first volume, and at first his role seems more that of a facilitator than a protagonist, although the clues are there from the start that it is otherwise. Bayaz is more than a thousand years old, once favoured student of the creator of magic, and now first in the art. He was responsible for founding the Union, the kingdom which is central to much of the action and politics of the books. Bayaz is undoubtedly wise and powerful, and certainly appears benign in comparison to what we learn of his arch-nemesis, who controls the Gurkish Empire, a southern desert-based nation and main rival of the Union, by posing as the prophet of their god and controls a cadre of warrior magicians who gain their power by eating human flesh.

It is only in the second half of the final book that we learn just how involved Bayaz is, although the clues were there. From the start, he has orchestrated everything. While he takes credit for helping win the war which is the focus of The Last Argument of Kings, he deliberately planned it to draw out his enemy. And that is the point. The sorcerer is not concerned with the well being of people or the advancement of civilisation, but in proving himself the most powerful magician of all time and demonstrating that power to his nemesis and exercising it for his own ends. When Luthar, a shallow, self-centred military officer who Bayaz has manipulated onto the throne of the Union tells the wizard how much he hates him, Bayaz laughs. “I couldn't care less what you think. You people live so briefly and die so quickly it isn't worth bothering with. You are insects.”

Throughout the trilogy there is movement toward redemption. Logen trying to leave a life of violence behind him. Luthar realising he has lived a life of privilege and selfishness and changing his ways. Glokta, once a dashing cavalry officer who was broken in the torture chambers of the Gurkish Empire and is now chief torturer for the Inquisition, constantly questions both the morality and the point of what he does. Although in the end there is no redemption, which is a necessarily bleak outcome, it feels as though this is only due to the imposition from above, that things would have worked out better were it not for the malevolent, all powerful force that has its own agenda and to whom humans and indeed nations are simply pawns. show less

Fans of Martin and Mieville will find the trilogy of which this is the final volume well worth a try. Last Argument rushes relentlessly to its conclusion, with seperate threads of tangled intrigue and spectacular violence. The plot comes neatly, viscously into its own and all the characters, some of whom were damn near likeable by the end of the second volume, start to curdle a little as their true natures come to the fore. The main surprise is that the cynicism is actually slightly less bruising than the battles, of which there are a few, all more or less running together. Nobody gets what they deserve, only one person really gets what he wants and we all get a glimpse of how power is truly exercised. There’s no ambivalence about the show more ending, though it’s not as bleak or hopeless as it could have been if the author was just being a thoroughgoing bastard purely for the sake of it, which leads me to suppose that though Abercrombie is clear-eyed and honest about cynicism, he is not necessarily himself a cynic. One possible lesson to take from the book is that the only happy cynics are the sociopaths, and they’re the ones to truly watch out for. show less

Con ’El último argumento de los reyes’, Joe Abercrombie finaliza La Primera Ley, la que es una de las mejores obras de fantasía oscura jamás escrita. Estamos hablando de un proyecto de más de 2.000 páginas, y la verdad es que prácticamente no le sobra ninguna de ellas, lo que no es nada habitual en estos casos, donde otro autor hubiese engordado a su bebé como si de cebar a un cochinillo se tratase.

A estas alturas, veo innecesario comentar de qué va la historia, ya que quien haya llegado a este último volumen no precisa de incentivo alguno para llegar al final del mismo. Me deja impresionado cómo Abercrombie ata cada uno de los cabos que tenía pendientes, quedando todo casi perfectamente explicado, y digo casi porque es show more imposible dejar a todo el mundo contento. Pero aun así, Abercrombie realiza una labor memorable, ya que después de leer ’El último argumento de los reyes’, queda claro que tenía en mente gran parte de cómo iba a desarrollarse la trama desde el principio.

Todos los personajes tienen su gran momento, y todos ellos deben aceptar lo que les depara el destino, un destino ciertamente oscuro, donde una mala decisión puede abocarte a una muerte segura. Es imposible no verse imbuido en las historias de los protagonistas y en lo que les acontece, ya que has pasado con ellos suficiente tiempo como para cogerles cariño, u odio. Y es que la ambivalencia juega un papel importante, y la línea que separa a un héroe de un villano es muy delgada. Sin precipitarse en absoluto, Abercrombie nos regala una trama sin concesiones, repleta de acción, sorpresas, venganzas, peleas, combates, batallas, y una gran cantidad de cinismo e ironía, ingredientes todos ellos que dan lugar a una narración de la que no puedes despegarte hasta la última página, que cierra un círculo perfecto. Imprescindible. show less

Oh, look, this is five stars as well, imagine that! (Please feign faux being shocked)

Look, I honestly don’t think anything I’m going to say here is anything that hasn’t been expounded on before, but Lord have mercy, it must be conveyed in some shape/form/fashion.

There’s a reason Abercrombie is considered a master of his genre; this book, in my opinion, takes that and sums it so very excellently. Abercrombie takes these vivid real characters, characters placed in extraordinary situations. However, you still somehow empathize, loathe, hate, or are shocked as they are, and therefore these characters are relatable even to us in our “normal” lives.

The twists, the turns, the blows, you feel them in real-time with this unlikely show more band of players right up until the very end. Every time I thought, “Ah, he’s going to put a nice bow on this situation, and who can blame him? These characters deserve it.” he teases that lacy ribbon across your body until you’re about begging to be mummified in it. He pulls the whole damn thing away for another surprise.

This novel is fantasy, philosophy, entertainment, emotions, and characters that are so realistic it’s hard at times to remember this is a made-up story. However, their decisions, motives, and faults all make sense at some level, and often you’ll find yourself rooting for someone once you understand their reasons, even if they were on your shit list from previous volumes.

“A man can change.” - Logen ‘Ninefingers’, all I can say to that I raise my glass and say yes, yes he can. show less