Review:
The Book That Wouldn't Burn, by Mark Lawrence
| Series: |
Library Trilogy #1 |
| Publisher: |
Ace |
| Copyright: |
2023 |
| ISBN: |
0-593-43793-4 |
| Format: |
Kindle |
| Pages: |
561 |
The Book That Wouldn't Burn is apparently high fantasy, but of the
crunchy sort that could easily instead be science fiction. It is the
first of a trilogy.
Livira is a young girl, named after a weed, who lives in a tiny settlement
in the Dust. She is the sort of endlessly curious and irrepressible girl
who can be more annoying than delightful to adults who are barely keeping
everyone alive. Her settlement is not the sort of place that's large
enough to have a name; only their well keeps them alive in the desert and
the ever-present dust. There is a city somewhere relatively near, which
Livira dreams of seeing, but people from the settlement don't go there.
When someone is spotted on the horizon approaching the settlement, it's
the first time Livira has ever seen a stranger. It's also not a good
sign. There's only one reason for someone to seek them out in the Dust:
to take. Livira and the other children are, in short order, prisoners of
the humanoid dog-like sabbers, being dragged off to an unknown fate.
Evar lives in the library and has for his entire life. Specifically, he
lives in a square room two miles to a side, with a ceiling so high that it
may as well be a stone sky. He lived there with his family before he was
lost in the Mechanism. Years later, the Mechanism spit him out alongside
four other similarly-lost kids, all from the same library in different
times. None of them had apparently aged, but everyone else was dead.
Now, years later, they live a strange and claustrophobic life with way too
much social contact between way too few people.
Evar's siblings, as he considers them, were each in the Mechanism with a
book. During their years in the Mechanism they absorbed that book until
it became their focus and to some extent their personality. His brothers
are an assassin, a psychologist, and a historian. His sister, the last to
enter the Mechanism and a refugee from the sabber attack that killed
everyone else, is a warrior. Evar... well, presumably he had a book,
since that's how the Mechanism works. But he can't remember anything
about it except the feeling that there was a woman.
Evar lives in a library in the sense that it's a room full of books, but
those books are not on shelves. They're stacked in piles and massive
columns, with no organizational system that any of them could discern.
There are four doors, all of which are closed and apparently impenetrable.
In front of one of them is a hundred yards of char and burned book
remnants, but that door is just as impenetrable as the others. There is a
pool in the center of the room, crops surrounding it, and two creatures
they call the Soldier and the Assistant. That is the entirety of Evar's
world.
As you might guess from the title, this book is about a library. Evar's
perspective of the library is quite odd and unexplained until well into
the book, and Livira's discovery of the library and subsequent
explorations are central to her story, so I'm going to avoid going into
too many details about its exact nature. What I will say is that I have
read a lot of fantasy novels that are based around a library, but I don't
think I've ever read one that was this satisfying.
I think the world of
The Book That Wouldn't Burn is fantasy, in
that there are fundamental aspects of this world that don't seem amenable
to an explanation consistent with our laws of physics. It is, however,
the type of fantasy with discoverable rules. Even better, it's the type
of fantasy where discovering the rules is central to the story, for both
the characters and the readers, and the rules are worth the effort. This
is a world-building tour de force: one of the most engrossing and
deeply satisfying slow revelations that I have read in a long time. This
book is well over 500 pages, the plot never flags, new bits of
understanding were still slotting into place in the last chapter, and
there are lots of things I am desperately curious about that Lawrence left
for the rest of the series. If you like puzzling out the history and
rules of an invented world and you have anything close to my taste in
characters and setting, you are going to love this book.
(Also, there is at least one C.S. Lewis homage that I will not spoil but
that I thought was beautifully done and delightfully elaborated, and I am
fairly sure there is a conversation happening between this book and Philip
Pullman's
His Dark Materials series that I didn't quite untangle
but that I am intrigued by.)
I do need to offer a disclaimer: Livira is precisely the type of character
I love reading about. She's stubborn, curious, courageous, persistent,
egalitarian, insatiable, and extremely sharp. I have a particular soft
spot for exactly this protagonist, so adjust the weight of my opinion
accordingly. But Lawrence also makes excellent use of her as a spotlight
to illuminate the world-building. More than anything else in the world,
Livira wants to
understand, and there is so much here to
understand.
There is an explanation for nearly everything in this book, and those
explanations usually both make sense and prompt more questions. This is
such a tricky balance for the writer to pull off! A lot of world-building
of this sort fails either by having the explanations not live up to the
mysteries or by tying everything together so neatly that the stakes of the
world collapse into a puzzle box. Lawrence avoids both failures. This
world made sense to me but remained sufficiently messy to feel like humans
were living in it. I also thought the pacing and timing were impeccable:
I figured things out at roughly the same pace as the characters, and
several twists and turns caught me entirely by surprise.
I do have one minor complaint and one caveat. The minor complaint is that
I thought one critical aspect of the ending was a little bit too neat and
closed. It was the one time in the book where I thought Lawrence
simplified his plot structure rather than complicated it, and I didn't
like the effect it had on the character dynamics. There is, thankfully,
the promise of significant new complications in the next book.
The caveat is a bit harder to put my finger on, but a comparison to Alaya
Dawn Johnson's
The Library of Broken
Worlds might help. That book was also about a library, featured a
protagonist thrown into the deep end of complex world-building, and put
discovery of the history and rules at the center of the story. I found
the rules structure of
The Book That Wouldn't Burn more
satisfyingly complicated and layered, in a way that made puzzle pieces fit
together in my head in a thoroughly enjoyable way. But Johnson's book is
about very large questions of identity, history, sacrifice, and pain, and
it's full of murky ambiguity and emotions that are only approached via
metaphor and symbolism. Lawrence's book is far more accessible, but the
emotional themes are shallower and more straightforward. There is a
satisfying emotional through-line, and there are some larger issues at
stake, but it won't challenge your sense of morality and justice the way
that
The Library of Broken Worlds might. I think which of those
books one finds better will depend on what mood you're in and what reading
experience you're looking for.
Personally, I was looking for a scrappy, indomitable character who would
channel her anger into overcoming every obstacle in the way of thoroughly
understanding her world, and that's exactly what I got. This was my most
enjoyable reading experience of the year to date and the best book I've
read since
Some Desperate Glory.
Fantastic stuff, highly recommended.
Followed by
The Book That Broke the World, and the ending is a bit
of a cliffhanger so you may want to have that on hand. Be warned that the
third book in the series won't be published until 2025.
Rating: 9 out of 10