L. E. MODESITT, JR.

Considering this is the first novel in one of the more popular multibook fantasy sagas today, its unpretentious and even modest character may well be the most appealing thing about it. This is a good book, enjoyably engrossing, thankfully free of pomposity; a tale that relies on characterizations and a decidedly un-mythic approach to magic rather than more traditional high fantasy trappings. It's just the working definition of the phrase "a good read." But there's nothing wrong with that, is there?

The story begins in the island continent of Recluce, which is itself part of a fantasy realm where Order and Chaos, moreso than Good and Evil, are the driving forces in perpetual conflict. Recluce lives up to its name, as a somewhat insular and cut-off community devoted to absolute Order, so much so that its society is more than a little oppressive. Lerris is a young man, just coming of age, who just doesn't fit in with the absolutist ways of Recluce and its ruling body, the Brotherhood. Misfits like him are given a choice: either exile in one of the surrounding island countries, or to undertake the "dangergeld," a rite of passage of sorts wherein a person journeys for many years to, well, find himself, after which he may or may not be able to return to Recluce.

Lerris seems a misfit in more ways than one. He seems to have the magical ability to detect the forces of Chaos, and his black staff, a gift from his uncle, radiates such palpable energy that even some of the masters of the Brotherhood are nervous when he wields it. On top of that, during his dangergeld training, he learns offhand that his own father has been an Order-master all along; but for the most part, Lerris's attempts to get real answers to the questions that burn in his mind — not the least of which is why Recluce has to be run the way it is in the first place — are constantly frustrated by the Brotherhood's evasive and cryptic teachings.

Following his training, Lerris, along with the small band of similar misfits who trained with him for their own dangergeld, are shipped to the neighboring country of Candar, where, after barely a day's orientation in the city of Freetown, they are left to their own devices. This nearly proves instantly disastrous for Lerris, but after avoiding a few scrapes with some hostile locals, he becomes a bit more streetwise and careful in his travels. But before long it becomes obvious to Lerris there is trouble brewing in Candar. He falls in with Justen, a gray magician who juggles both white (Chaos) and black (Order) magic, and learns that Chaos-masters have a nasty habit of luring unsuspecting victims into their clutches under the guise of good works, then stealing their very souls. One Chaos-master in particular seems to be taking a particular interest in Lerris. Justen believes that Recluce is planning something, possibly even an offensive against Candar (though such an action seems to me to be contrary to Recluce's devotion to Order). Lerris eventually finds himself travelling alone again, all the while trying to learn how to use his burgeoning skills in wielding Order-magic.

The Magic of Recluce is much more character-driven than plot-driven. (Lerris narrates in first-person.) In fact, the only times the story gets a tad confusing are when Modesitt shifts away from Lerris's story to offer brief glimpses of a civil war brewing between two Candarian rulers; it's a plot element that doesn't become really cohesive until the novel's final third. But generally, Modesitt keeps his plotting to a minimum, and most of the story's conflict is internal to Lerris, as he struggles with learning how to use Order-magic properly. Considering how many fantasies of this sort are painfully overplotted, a simple story rooted in a likable character is a breath of fresh air. Recluce very commendably stays away from self-importance, clichés and formula. There is also a really nice sequence in the novel where Lerris settles down for a year in the city of Fenard where he undertakes work as an apprentice woodworker; Modesitt's skills at characterization shine here, as several meaningful friendships develop.

But at the same time, there are no really strong antagonists to generate gripping white-knuckle tension. Antonin, a villianous Chaos-master who serves as the closest thing to a bad guy in the whole novel, only appears in a handful of scenes; his presense is mostly hinted at, his actions largely unseen. And so the story's conflict is never as powerful as it could be, and the anticipated Final Confrontation is kind of anticlimactic. You occasionally find yourself wishing for more action to perk up the languid pacing. Yet overall, what Modesitt offers here is perfectly appealing all the same, just on a much more modest scale. This is the real magic of Recluce: a good, straightforward story without any delusions of its own grandeur.

Followed by The Towers of the Sunset.