The Shadow of Ararat (Hardcover)

The main value of these volumes is as a testimony to the lack of editors in publishing today. "Terbert Jordkind" has already demonstrated that, of course, but in Harlan's endless works we have more entire pages which could be omitted and whose omission would considerably strengthen the story.

If you react to the first two volumes as I did, you will find yourself awash in a sea of words and eventually drowning in them. Everything is described in detail, and the book shifts from viewpoint to viewpoint like a kaleidoscope. Soon this whirring becomes a whirlwind and you will not remember, when you encounter Maxim, or Dyrwin, or whoever, for the fourth time, what he was up to when you last saw him. Mr. Harlan's gift for verbosity is not matched by a gift for clarity, so often you will not really be sure what happened at all--but, what the heck, just shrug and go on to the next hundred pages, I mean, what difference does it make? It's not as though this hash were carefully constructed.

And, if you are like me, you will find yourself caring less and less, and skimming, and skipping, and then, at the end of volume II, going to the nearest large trash container, tossing both volumes into it, and thanking heaven you didn't buy all four.

A picky, pedantic note: I will always wonder why Mr. Harlan called the King of Persia "Chrosoes" when the name of those two monarchs is spelled, in English, "Chosroes," (or Khosru Parviz). But then, he also uses the word "avtokrator" when he means "autocrator." Oh, well, as Pope said, a little learning is a dangerous thing.

And as the Duke of Gloucester said, "Another da(r)ned, thick, square book! Always scribble, scribble, scribble! Eh! Mr. Gibbon?" Gibbon didn't deserve it, but Mr. Harlan.....

OK. Moving on to the real problems of this novel: though I tried very hard, I felt no identification with the protagonists. The author does a wonderful job of describing what they wear, what they look like and the landscapes through which they pass. But as for what makes the people tick--nothing. No word of their pasts, their griefs, joys, thoughts, beliefs. Nobody falls in love or even really has sex. One character encounters the Queen of Palmyra; the next time we see them they are apparently lovers, though we never see how they interact and reach this state. To me, that's a fatal error. An author can get away with blah characters in a short novel, but in a book of this length it quickly becomes deadly--especially since I really didn't care that much about the Roman Empire's victory over the Persians. In fact, I found myself rooting for the underdog Persians.

In addition: I quickly lost track of what the characters were doing and why. Scenes seemed to be thrown together at random. I realize that this book is part of a series--nevertheless I regard it as a critical weakness when one book of a series can't 'stand alone". Tolkien got away with it--but since I did not feel satisfied at the end of this book, there's no way I'm going to read the next one.

Two stars for technical excellence.