Book Review: Necropolis, by Xina Marie Uhl
Reviewer: Romie J. Stott
Eretria is a bustling port city at the heart of a desert empire; merchants and politicians brush shoulders with beggars and priests of a hundred religions. The region is beset by fierce sun and fiercer dust storms, but nature is no harsher than Eretria's brutal laws. Conyr Elarrin, an ex-soldier turned prison guard, runs afoul of these laws when he rescues Dru, a noble-looking prisoner, from being beaten to death. Together with a sorcerous ex-councilman and a feisty young girl, Conyr struggles to overcome Dru's amnesia, even as Dru is pursued by a band of nomadic assassins. The closer Dru and Conyr come to Dru's suppressed memories, the more they are drawn to the Necropolis - Eretria's ancient underground city of the dead. What they find will change their lives - and Eretria - forever.
Necropolis bears many staples of traditional fantasy - sorcery, monsters, hand-to-hand combat, and a band of adventurers from different tiers of society, pulled together less by choice than by adherence to a common quest. These characters fall into recognizable archetypes: the gruff ex-soldier desperate to forget his past; the cunning and manipulative politician; the beautiful amnesiac stranger; the kind and wholesome hooker; and the mischievous kid who exists to get the rest of the party in trouble.
Where
Necropolis departs from standard fantasy formula is by making its characters archetypal precisely because they are meant to be ordinary; they are heroes because they choose to help each other, not because they possess unusual pasts and powers. Conyr and Val - the kid - act and interact like real people. They shop for groceries, take in stray dogs, have day jobs, and run out of clean dishes. They have problems - often severe ones - but they are too busy to have the luxury of turning maudlin. When Conyr falls in love, it's part of his character development - not an epic plot point.
While the characters' strong basis in reality is one of
Necropolis's strengths, it is also a weakness.
Necropolis's major theme is the struggle toward self-determination; Eretria is preparing for war with a separatist colony, and as the story begins, each character is engaged in a long period of waiting. Although the characters have goals, they are not particularly driven to pursue them; throughout most of the novel, the characters react instead of acting. As historically realistic as it feels for characters to be swept along in the current of larger social forces, the characters' mundanity makes them hard to root for or identify with.
Attention to historical detail is where
Necropolis excels - unsurprising, given Uhl's background in ancient history. Her setting is drawn not from Western Europe, but from Mesopotamia, with a little Ancient Rome thrown in for good measure. The text is flavored with gritty otherworldliness and city bustle; without intruding, Uhl reminds us of dust and heat, clay architecture, back alleys, midden heaps, and food that's more Persian than English. This setting is different enough from most fantasy that even well-trod fantasy elements seem new again.
Even the magic feels familiar but refreshing. Wizards don't throw fireballs; they stick to the magic that religions across many cultures have claimed exist - astral projection, prophesy, energy manipulation, and sympathetic healing. Practitioners must undergo decades of rigorous mental training, and sorcery never becomes easy. This rule breaks down late in the book when spirit monsters pursue the main characters and a magical disaster threatens the city; by then, the action is heavy enough that most readers won't notice the inconsistency.
This is a pity, because the shift to more magic should be more dramatic than it is. Readers should pause and marvel at what should not be able to happen; characters should reconsider their views of the world. Instead, the characters worry only about their physical well-being, as they would from the threat of any gang or army. As a result, what should be a once-in-a-lifetime event seems humdrum.
As a first attempt by an inexperienced author,
Necropolis sidesteps most common problems. Uhl does not burden her sentences with flowery prose, nor does she imitate the voice of another author. She never manipulates the reader into feeling emotions she hasn't earned, and her plot doesn't rely on coincidence. She promises nothing she cannot deliver. On the other hand, Uhl has trouble with pacing; while
Necropolis is a quick read that rarely drags, it doesn't pause to let the reader enjoy what would otherwise be powerful moments. The structure of the story focuses on internal character development; this wars with the brisk, detached tone of the narration.
In the end,
Necropolis's major problem is its publisher. The cover design is atrocious and the text abounds with small grammar and punctuation errors that should have been caught by any competent copy editor. Uhl would have been helped by another draft under the guidance of a good editor - although her prose is not bad, it is far from memorable. Many sentences are wooden and clunking; often Uhl uses adjectives and adverbs to prop up bland nouns and verbs. Unfortunately, inattention to detail may be an increasing trend in speculative fiction as new and mid-list authors are pushed to micro-publishers without the resources to support them.
Despite these flaws, I could freely recommend
Necropolis to anyone, were it not for the price.
Necropolis is an unassuming mid-list book whose purpose is to divert and entertain. It's not life-changing, and it doesn't bring fantasy to a new paradigm; it's something to enjoy on the train or in the bathtub. This reality jangles with the $21 dollar cover price; Necropolis is fun, but in its soul it is a five to seven dollar pocket paperback.
Addendum: Necropolis
is available for US$5.95 in e-book form from cyberread.com.
For a sample of Xina Marie Uhl's writing, check out the Reflection's Edge
article "Chores, Minerals, and Phalanxes: Adding Historical Flavor to Your Fiction".
If you liked this book, you may also enjoy:
Gilgamesh, by Robert Silverberg
Assyrian, by Nicholas Guild
The Lymond Chronicles, by Dorothy Dunnett
Chronicles of Amber, by Roger Zelazny
Red World of Polaris, by Clark Ashton Smith
© Romie Stott