The Broken Sword

A stolen baby is given a broken sword, for it's been fated that a time will come when he'll need it. A fantasy classic that, for many people, does everything right that Lord of the Rings does wrong.

When Imric the Elf Earl gets the opportunity to whisk away Orm the Strong's first born son and replace him with a changeling, little could he imagine the thread the Norns were weaving for the boy's future. And then, when the Aesir give the baby Skafloc a broken sword that must be reforged by a Jotun when Imric carries him home, the seed is planted for events far into the future, events that will affect the very war between the Aesir and Jotuns.

Three words easily sum up what The Broken Sword is: a fantastical romance.

In the vein of the chivalric romances before it, The Broken Sword is the tale of Skafloc Imric's-Foster, a human child raised among the fae, with many of their skills and powers, and the way he shapes events as he comes into the fate the Norns have spun for him. Like any good romance, it's hero Skafloc is thrown almost constantly through a never ending barrage of tragic, heinous events that juxtapose the rarer, lighter, happier moments of the tale, to temper and prepare him for his ultimate wyrd as he goes down the path the Norns have woven for him.

What's interesting about the story is how Anderson handles the concepts of morality and religion in the tale. The aristocratic elves are depicted as ethereal immortals who feel no love, have no morals, who simply act on their whims and baser natures, throughout the length of the story. Juxtaposed against that and consequently highlighting it is Freda's rigid adherence to Christian morals and ideals, which mostly stand in direct opposition to the elven way. But whereas Freda is portrayed in an entirely normal, yet sympathetic manner, at times it reads like Anderson took pains to make the elves feel alien, ethereal and abominable, which makes the entire situation feel biased.

And then there's religion. Throughout the length of the tale, one recurring fact is predominant; the fae and the Aesir may be powerful, but they're helpless before the power of those who believe in the new white God. Not even the white God himself, his followers' faith. The pagan elements of the tale are given a generally sinister twist, from the elven amorality to the brutality of the trolls and the scheming inhumanity of the Aesir. A dark twist made all the darker by the inherent goodness in characters like Freda, who expouse and embody Christian ideals; the juxtaposition mentioned earlier also underlines this part of the story. The morality and religion are so intertwined in this book it's as if one is incapable of existing without the other, and I guess for the sentiments of the average fantasy reader back when this was hot off the press, this would have been a very welcome element to the tale.

Naturally, a romance buds between the rescued Freda and Skafloc, but this is an inevitable disaster in the making, as neither knows they're actually siblings. As they grow deeper and deeper in love, a sense of anticipation is hard to avoid, as readers know from the outset that this is only going to end very badly, and yet Anderson takes pains to tie them to each other as inextricably as he can before delivering the devastating revelation. I found that it actually works well with the slower parts of the story, as the anticipation really keeps you hooked and going, waiting for the proverbial hammer to fall and shatter their amorous bubble. And all of that is before Odin gets involved in the mix, emphatically proving that the enmity between Skafloc and Valgard is little more than a thread in a tapestry of conflict between the Aesir and the Jotun.

As far as the plot goes, you can pretty much say exactly how it's all going to play out, between the basic blurb and the initial events, it's a normal train of events that you'll have seen countless times if you've read any fantasy. Even if you haven't, it's clear what's in the cards plot-wise, as the changeling Valgard slowly but steadily descends into the borderline insanity that marks a berserker, with Skafloc the focus of all the rage and hatred that his very breeding instils in his personality. The tension mounts and Norns cackle as Skafloc journeys to save the elves from annihilation and Valgard takes his place among his troll kin, slowly but inevitably spiralling closer and closer until they finally clash, two sides of the same coin determined to end the other once and for all.

One of the reasons I say it's unlike Lord of the Rings is entirely due to the scale it deals with. Lord of the Rings deals with humanity as an entire race standing against the epitome of evil, Sauron, and his hordes of evil. In The Broken Sword, however, we're treated to a much smaller tale, albeit with epic events occurring as a matter of course, of the enmity between a human and his changeling, which have direct consequences on the war between elves and trolls. Which in turn has direct effects on the war between Aesir and Jotun. As the actions of Odin make clear, this is just one battle in a war. That's not the case with Lord of the Rings.

Ultimately it's a tale of the tainted hero Skafloc, his nemesis Valgard the changeling, and the effect their natural enmity has in what is arguably a pointless, never ending war between two mythical foes locked in an impasse. It's not the best fantasy you're going to read, but that's mainly due to the fact that it's quite dated by this point. There's no doubt it is an influential piece, and still remains a fun romp on top of that. Anderson combines English, Irish and Norse myths, along with a little sprinkle of other mythos here and there, and crafts a romance which has undeniably had a lasting effect on fantasy. Definitely worth the read, at the very least to see if you're one of those who think this is better than Lord of the Rings. I'll join the group, if any exists, that thinks they're both good books, for their time.

ARC of Open Road Integrated Media edition provided via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.