Author: Paul Kearney
Publisher: ACE
Binding: Paperback
Publication Date: 2001
British novelist Paul Kearney mixes nautical adventure with epic war and religious politics in Hawkwood’s Voyage, the first book of his five-volume series The Monarchies of God. Kearney’s fantasy world is based on 15th century Europe and includes early muskets and cannons, monarchies clashing with a centralized church, and heathens invading from the east. He adds a few fantastical elements to his setting, including minor magic and a supernatural shapeshifting. Contrary to the title and the irrelevant prologue, the major conflict is not Hawkwood’s voyage but the invasion of the Merduks. This nation of dark-skinned horsemen, led by a Sultan and worshipping a god with a name that begins with an A, reads like a stereotypical portrait of Muslim infidels.
Hawkwood’s voyage into uncharted western oceans in search of an undiscovered continent is the most vividly described and interesting plot thread in the novel. Kearney has clearly researched nautical procedures and terminology, and these chapters combine the best of adventure fantasy like Raymond E. Feist and nautical fiction like Patrick O’Brian. The other main plotline, the defense of Ormann Dyke against Merduk hordes, becomes interesting only when the soldier Corfe arrives in that city. The remaining plot threads, including the political wrangling between the kings and the religious officials and a thread of supernatural shapeshifting, feel unimportant by comparison. The ending concludes only one minor plot and leaves the rest completely unresolved, presumably for the four sequels.
Kearney’s longwinded prose prioritizes the physical descriptions first, the history of his world second, and the characters last. The descriptions are vivid, but often the prose makes them feel as lifeless as encyclopedia entries. This line from Chapter Two opens a long passage describing a city: “Two things struck the seaward observer about Abrusio: the forest and the mountain.” This description would have far more meaning if “the seaward observer” were an actual character rather than a hypothetical narrative personage, about whom the reader knows nothing. Many other chapters open with introductory scenes that are entirely physical and historical description before any character walks onstage. The absence of characters in these scenes leaves the reader with little reason to care about the description or history.
Kearney’s characters are rugged adventure types with little weakness or depth. Hawkwood’s awkwardness in dealing with his wife predictably vanishes the instant he sets sail. Corfe’s suffering on the retreat from Aekir somehow molds him into an insightful commander. The nobleman Murad has some interesting motivations, but he remains largely unsympathetic because he is placed in opposition to Hawkwood. The rare female characters are all wives, prostitutes, and concubines. Nearly all the minor characters, including King Abelyn, the monk Albrec, the Sultan, and Corfe’s captured wife, feel like gratuitous setup for later volumes in the saga. The sloppy omniscient point-of-view leaves the characters feeling distant from the reader, as it drifts out of their heads in scenes with other characters and in scenes where characters are alone. Kearney attempts the wide, multi-character scale of epic fantasy like his one-time collaborator Steven Erikson, but in Hawkwood’s Voyage he doesn’t pull it off.
Kearney’s detailed narrative and meticulous backstory create a rich world in Hawkwood’s Voyage, but they leave his characters flat as they plod through uninteresting subplots. Only Hawkwood’s actual voyage remains captivating throughout the novel.
