The Rainbow Abyss

Wizards in a world that hates wizards study and struggle to survive. The elder is convinced he’s communicating with a world that has lost almost all of its magic whose wizards need help; that world has strange powers like electricity and everyone can use it, instead of its use being reserved for the wizardly elect. The whole story rubbed me the wrong way insofar as the mentor-wizard insisted that magical knowledge was too dangerous to be shared with almost anyone else—even most other magic-workers—while his apprentice was earning their keep in their medieval-lite, slavery-positive setting by selling, among other things, love potions that overrode people’s actual desires. So they were both condescending and harmful! I did wonder show more how much Hambly intended this reaction, and the preview for the next book—when the apprentice has actually made it across to the other world—suggests that she was not exactly taking magical elitism’s side, but it didn’t make me want to keep reading anyway. show less

Because the Sun-Cross duology seemed very derivative of Barbara Hambly's earlier works, I did not bother with them for many years. Strong wizard, check. Wizard social pariahs condemned by religion, check. Geek love and angst, check. Some amorphous threat to the world only the strong wizard realizes, check. Reality hopping, check. In fact, these books take these themes much further than her other books. In short, The Rainbow Abyss and The Magicians of Night are a contemplation of genocide. The Sun-Cross is a reference to the swastika, a symbol that goes back millenia in many cultures around the world, but today only references the Nazis for most people.

This grimmest of themes is experienced by the least inspiring of Barbara Hambly's show more heroes who open The Rainbow Abyss already damaged and downtrodden. Rhion is overweight and drab (he comes to be known as Rhion the Brown), the disowned son of a banker, who is extremely near-sighted as the consequence of casting a too-powerful spell in his youth. His master Jaldis, is blind, mute, and crippled--the mutilations ended his court mage career during a period of political turmoil. He can see and speak in a limited fashion only through magical devices, at great cost. It's winter, and they live in an unheated garret in the slums eking out a meager existence selling love potions and the like, but flee before a lynch mob within the second chapter. A suitably dreary beginning to such a dire topic.

The plot of The Rainbow Abyss spans decades, setting the scene, as it were. Jaldis makes contact with magicians from a world where magic ceased to exist, and he recognizes the implications for their own world--if it's possible to end magic, then the religious zealots would make it happen. Jaldis is determined to cross the Void to understand what happened over there in the hopes of preventing it from occurring in his own world. But life sometimes just gets in the way of ambition--that's the plot of The Rainbow Abyss. Boy meets girl (Tally) and helps her. They go their separate ways. Boy and master wander around. Boy meets girl again, and this time he helps her sister. Complications ensue. Boy resists love, and more complications. Boy stops resisting love, and complications. But what about frail master and crossing the Void? Too sick. Then too broke. Then the expected help doesn't arrive. Boy tries to stop him. But he does it anyway. So boy goes along. End of story, well book 1, anyway.

These are certainly very serious stories without much fun. But not nearly as disturbing as the Dragonsbane series. And Barbara Hambly does make sure to end on a note of hope and determination. It feels much like the end of the third Terminator movie (Rise of the Machines), where John Connor watches society falling apart, the moment he's dreaded his entire life, and then he steps up to the radio transceiver at Crystal Peak to respond to requests for guidance, so beginning his career as leader of the human resistance. And so Rhion returns home inspired to lead the wizard resistance. show less

Substance: Well-imagined magical world; some quibbles. Not a typical romance (overtones of Brother Cadfael's young lovers). Does not shy away from mentioning sex, but keeps the doors closed.
Style: Hambly has a straight-forward and uncomplicated narrative style; used some past references but not a lot of back-stitiching and flash-backs, and the few that exist are well done. Uses "big words" but always in a guessable context.
SPOILERS FOLLOW
(1) So, magicians cannot legally marry or pass on property to their heirs, and theyare considerate of their non-mage partners, but why in the world do the men jigger with the woman's reproductive system instead of just de-fertilizing their own sperm? And these aren't even sexist pigs. (In this case, it show more was needed for the plot, but a woeful oversight that shows just how strong the conditioning is in an otherwise very sensitive write.) show less

Slow and sweet, with Hambly's trademark depth of nature and weather description. Laying aside the medieval-ish setting and the invariably foul weather, her style reminds me of nothing so much as [a:Susanna Kearsley|486812|Susanna Kearsley|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1519247269p2/486812.jpg].

Jaldis, a blind, mute master wizard, and his apprentice, Rhion, travel through a magical void to a world where magic has died, seeking to save it while facing religious persecution and genocide against sorcerers in their world.

The duo investigates a dark well, a portal between dimensions, after hearing cries from a magicless world, implied to be our own Earth.

SUNCROSS