Many fantasy stories begin with a seemingly ordinary man embarking on an extraordinary mission and Terry Goodkind’s Sword of Truth is no different. We have Richard Cypher, a regular forest ranger, who begins his quest when his father is brutally murdered by a powerful wizard. In his journey, he meets the exquisite Kahlan Amnell, his future life partner, and together they experience tales upon tales of sorcery, mythical beasts, and magical boundaries…for Richard is named the Seeker, the one who is destined to hold the Sword of Truth. As such, he struggles with the responsibility of bringing order in a world that’s about to be engulfed in darkness.

Richard and Kahlan’s epic story spans eleven novels, namely:

1. Wizard’s First Rule
2. Stone of Tears
3. Blood of the Fold
4. Temple of the Winds
5. Soul of the Fire
6. Faith of the Fallen
7. The Pillars of Creation
8. Naked Empire (portion of the cover scanned here)
9. Chainfire
10. Phantom
11. Confessor

I had just received Confessor as a Christmas gift and I must say that I liked how the story ended. But before that, I would like to warn anyone who wishes to try this series that the first book is a trap. It leads you to read the second book, then the third, then the fourth…until you have already so helplessly entangled yourself in the lives of Richard and Kahlan that you’d find yourself forced to finish the series.

Ironically, Wizard’s First Rule can stand pretty much on its own. Besides Richard and Kahlan, it introduces a bevy of highly intriguing characters like the powerful First Wizard Zorander, the Sorceress Adie, the feisty red dragon named Scarlet, the smart child Rachel and the Witch Woman Shota. Wizard’s First Rule is probably the most action-packed of the entire series, as the plot is complete with all the necessary elements required in a movie trilogy. It even has the perfect ending. Who’s not to say that Goodkind didn’t intend for it to be a series initially?

The sequel, Stone of Tears, is equally riveting. Goodkind introduces more interesting characters like the beast Gratch, the thousand-year-old prophet Nathan, and the Sisters of the Light. Most of the characters I find myself drawn to were those that came from the first and second novels. Unfortunately, by the time Temple of the Winds came out, I was already starting to lose interest. None of the next installations that followed — with Pillars of Creation being my biggest disappointment — are as intense as the first two, but by the time I had come to realize it, I had already wanted to see Richard’s ordeal finished. Chainfire and Phantom are the most cruel teases, as the author managed to dangle cliffhangers twice with these. Both had me waiting until the next year to find out what happens next: one year from Chainfire to Phantom and a year and a half for Confessor.

Confessor, however, managed to salvage what was left of my waning attention span. It has a weak beginning, though. The first half is filled with annoying talk. Every chapter discusses the same topic, except that they are discussed by different people. I found myself getting frustrated until Goodkind began describing how the sport Ja’La dh Jin (The Game of Life) gets violent and gruesome. Something about metal balls smashing into an opponent’s face got my blood pumping. That was the only time I actually began to get into it. The pace picks up halfway through, with twists and turns that would delight any Terry Goodkind fan or those that have awaited characters that hadn’t appeared since Blood of the Fold. The ending is satisfying and I couldn’t help but marvel at how every little detail — from the drop of an ink to the passages of a blank manual — work to get such an amazing conclusion.

If there’s one thing I’d like to commend Terry Goodkind for, it’s how he creates such impressive female characters. This attribute can be considered both good and bad. Good because they grip you so tightly, you almost feel like not letting go. Bad because Goodkind has a tendency to not write about some of his best characters for a very long time. While I’m not too impressed with Richard himself — being so “default” despite his very few shortcomings — the women are so gloriously flawed and powerful at the same time! Take Rachel, for example. I am not overly fond of kiddie heroines, but she is probably the first one to make my heart race with her misadventures. To name a few of my other favorites: Kahlan, Adie, Scarlet, Shota, Sister Nicci, Sister Verna and the Mord-Sith Cara. All female. All with traits that make you want to delve into their backgrounds far beyond what the series can offer.

I won’t exactly recommend Sword of Truth to conventional fantasy fans. Many tend to compare it with Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, Robert Jordan’s works, or other sagas like Tracy Hickman and Margaret Weis’s Dragonlance. While Goodkind’s works, in fact, are under the fantasy genre, I noticed that he waxes philosophical. Sometimes overly so. His concepts aren’t exactly new to fantasy enthusiasts, but the way he tells it makes me feel like I could apply the Wizard’s Rules in real life.

If you want to know if the series is worth buying, all I could say is, “Get the first three books then the last three. Rent everything in between. Unless you plan to collect.”

Not Just Another Cinderella Story

This was a book review I wrote as an entry to the Philippine Star’s Weekly Book Review Contest. It won and was published in the daily’s January 29, 2006 issue. The prize was PhP5,000 worth of gift certificates from National Bookstore. You can see the scan of the actual article by clicking here. This is actually one of the most memorable pieces I’ve written…

You may have seen different versions of the Cinderella classic, from the Brothers Grimm’s fantastically woven fairy tale, to Disney’s musical ensemble of singing mice and fairy godmothers, to Drew Barrymore’s portrayal of the orphan Danielle de Barbarac who suddenly finds herself saddled with a step-family in Ever After. The formula, however, has always been very consistent: one or two ugly step siblings, an ugly stepmother, and a beautiful heroine who triumphs in the end. No matter what age bracket you fall into a new angle in the story will always give you something to ponder on.

Enter Gregory Maguire and his fantasy novel Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister. Unlike most versions of Cinderella that narrate the account through Cinderella’s eyes, Maguire shifts the perspective onto her homely stepsisters. Your journey begins with the family of three unfortunate souls. Margarethe is a mother of two, exiled from the land of her late English husband, and struggling to keep herself and her daughters alive. What she lacks in beauty, she makes up for by being smart and calculating. Iris, her youngest daughter, inherits this — minus the penchant for manipulation. Since she is the child blessed with good judgment, she is tasked to both assist her mother and watch over her older sister Ruth. The child who has neither beauty nor brains, Ruth, hardly recognizes that she is slow-witted or too young for her age. She basks in what miniscule comforts her surroundings provide.

The ill-fated family of three is swept into the streets of Holland, forced to rummage for food and sympathy. They eventually find their way, first into an artist’s charitable yet forbidding home, and later to a world of luxury, refinement, and opulence. In this world, they become stepsisters to the exquisite but outlandish Clara. Clara is the complete opposite of what the sisters have been grown accustomed to. She is blindingly gorgeous and naturally graceful — almost the epitome of perfection — but chooses a solitary life. She would rather run her household, or keep herself in the kitchens, than attend the lavish parties and conferences that are considered privileges of the highborn class.

One startling aspect that differentiates Maguire’s work from other retellings is the fact that friendship is cultivated among three astoundingly dissimilar children. With variances in beliefs and upbringing, Ruth, Iris, and Clara manage to bridge their worlds and forge their own tiny world of fun, discover, and games. Clara abhors exposure, but Iris and Ruth gaily force her out of her shell.

Alas, growing into womanhood isn’t as easy as picking flowers or peeling potatoes or dodging Margarethe’s strict demands. The girls try to reign in new feelings and emotions — the pangs of adolescence — as they also accidentally uncover many clues about their collective pasts. While Ruth huddles into her own corner, not quite oblivious to the goings-on, Clara and Iris unearth precious secrets that transform their domain forever. Love and betrayal are two sides of the coin that must be weighed in, and truth must ultimately pave the way in revealing that elusive happiness that everyone strives to attain.

Reading Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister not only brought me back to the idealistic stages of my girlhood, but also answered many of the questions that caused me to discard fairy tales on my way to adulthood. All of these questions are basically issues of value formation. Cinderella was just a beautiful girl with no personality, but she married a prince because of her looks. The stepmother and stepsisters were hideous, therefore causing them to be jealously mean to the “cinder wench.” None of the characters had a whit of intelligence. No redeeming factors had ever been shown; only that “ugly” and “bad” go together the way “pretty” and “good” must also go hand in hand. Critical thinking that would inquire as to why Cinderella’s father would marry such a wicked monster of a woman, who had two equally unappealing children to boot, had no place in a fairy tale. I thought Cinderella’s legend taught the wrong values and dismissed it as nothing more than a whimsical anecdote penned by unforgivably shallow brothers. Nothing beyond that was symbolically offered.

While many attempts at adding a touch of real personality to the characters have since been published and presented in movie theaters, nothing seems to come close to the three-dimensional figures that Gregory Maguire depicts. To add even more color to the otherwise small group of protagonists, Maguire introduces The Master, the reclusive artist who finds solice in the generally old-fashioned Margarethe, and Caspar, the apprentice who, despite his obsession for beauty, holds an extreme fascination for the hopelessly plain Iris. Even Clara’s parents, with their hen-pecker and hen-pecked relationship, are wittingly given life by Maguire’s pen.

The writing redefines the adjective “fantastic.” The words practically jump off the pages that one would find it hard to put the book down. The author avoids complicated terms yet manages to capture your imagination well enough to envision what he wants you to see. He is descriptive without overburdening his readers with flowery sentences. He is imaginative in his use of subtlety, allowing you to find inspiration in such a simple piece of literature. He makes business, politics, vanity and girlish play all seem like a part of a child’s world. He writes as if the book is meant for children, but it really isn’t. It is as if he makes you read another fairy tale, this time through the eyes of a youngster imbued with the understanding of an adult. Confessions makes you remember how hard it was to leave your childhood — growing up, experiencing disappointments, and finally reaching maturity by virtue of love and forgiveness.

Does the book have a happy ending? Maguire leaves it up to the reader to decide whether the conclusion is happy or not. There are many ways of perceiving the way it goes, though a reader might find himself pleasantly surprised with the little twist in the end. One sure thing about it is that you could be left with a feel-good plot that isn’t necessarily peppered with saccharine. It gives a dose of absolute clarity while keeping the tenets of fantasy storytelling intact.

Truly, I have never read a treasure as masterfully done as Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister…at least, not since I turned 13.

Shopping:
Gregory Maguire Items

I have been a Christian since 2006. Though my parents brought me up Catholic, I was a kid that had so many doubts about the inconsistencies of the Bible and I ended up being a religious rogue as an adult. Despite that, I had always known that God is ubiquitous and had always lifted me up from the depths of the worst crises one can ever imagine. So when a portion of the Bible was re-introduced to me via National Geographic last year, I found myself open to it. My Christianity, however, is a personal thing. You won’t see me write about it publicly, much in the same way that I keep the depths of my feelings for Nicco in a private journal that only he and I see. My Christianity is hard to explain: I only refer to myself as a Christian — not Catholic, not Protestant, not a member of any Christian sect — and I refer to God as a mother, for women are the only beings gifted with the capability of producing life. I have no wish to discuss rhetorics and dialectics over this because to do so is to box God into man’s miniscule way of thinking. What I have is a relationship that I see no need to defend, hence I keep it private.

My Christianity is so private that my sister only found out about it recently. But I had maintained my personal relationship with God and Christ in my ever-so-reliable Starbucks Planner. Lovingly hand-written, defying everything I teach about the wonders of technology. It had kept me sane when I was driven mad by my responsibilities — turbulent personal life, intoxicating work and demanding masteral studies. When I was struggling so hard not to hate my “thesis” adviser. When work was fraught with temptations that I find myself ill-equipped to resist. Such negative feelings occupy so much space in the heart that Christ would have a difficult time living there. And so I write. And I write. And I write. For strength, for guidance, for forgiveness, for deliverance…thanking God for each and every moment that I survive every obstacle thrown my way.

The answer to my sister’s question? How I can have the most number of issues she has ever seen anyone endure and yet live through it with a smile? It’s this. I may have thrown myself into all these issues, being the curious kitty that I am, but God let me try them all, knowing that I am strong enough to handle them and live to proudly wear my battle scars.

The Gospel According to My Kitchen Sink, written by my mom’s friend and former colleague Tita Susan, is something that I found myself relating to. The book has been in my mom’s care for half a decade and yet it was only recently that I was able to find the time to sit down and read it. Tita Susan, like me, is a woman who smiles a lot. This book, which is a testament of her own personal relationship with God, is actually a compilation of snippets taken from her journal. She tells anecdotes and at the end of each anecdote is a question to ponder on. From simple questions like, “Do you have any humorous stories in your childhood?” to thought-provoking, “Do you have an ‘Isaac’ in your life that God asks you to surrender fully?” to highly biblical ones like, “Do you want the floodgates of heaven to open for you? Follow Malachi 3:10.”

Tita Susan is no best-writing author, not being one who’s out to impress with jargon overusage or Microsoft Word’s Thesaurus. What she is is someone who writes from the heart, with stories that encompass a lot of things. Some are about her family and children, some are about her colleagues, and some are about random people she meets. She talks about her day-to-day life, one that deals with financial issues, career moves, life-altering options and marital stuff like how to submit to your husband — a concept that I have yet to grasp fully, since I have had a bad experience the last time I tried it. God is the center of every tale and the moral is always that God has a way of opening windows for you when doors close. I love reading about all of them, not just because my own mother is mentioned in some of the passages, but also because I know how it feels like to have plans and have them railroaded. Yet you’d be pleasantly surprised as everything turns out so much better in the end.

My favorite, and what spoke to me most, is the story about how Tita Susan burned her chicken soup dry because she was juggling so many things while cooking. A paragraph reads: “Yes, I did not only burn the chicken, but many times I also burned myself out, because of too many commitments, of not being able to say no, of trying to be a superwoman, only to be chastened by God’s word. ‘Be still and Know That I am God.’”

The only thing I find myself itching to change in this book are the aesthetics. The general font face is Arial and sometimes they’d just randomly switch to Comic Sans Serif, which is the worst possible font one could ever think of using. The layout could use some work and have real illustrations instead of royalty-free stock photos. I would love to sit down and work on a coffee-table version of this, if only to give justice to its beautiful content.