While I was reading Mister Remic’s book, Kell’s Legend, I noticed the poor guy was having issues with some rather vitriolic hate mail he received for this book. The basic argument by his flaming fan was:

HOW DO YOU GET PULBISHED? IS THE EDITOR OF YOUR PUBLISHING HOUSE RETARDED? DOES THE EDITOR KNOW HOW TO READ? I HAVE READ FORTUNE COOKIES WITH MORE WIT, CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, AND PLOT THAN YOUR NOVEL war machine.

This rather took me back. He was referring to one of Andy Remic’s other novels (which I haven’t as yet read), called War Machine, so I couldn’t comment on any editing positive or otherwise, but I’m a little astounded someone actually took their time to write such nonsense to an author.

Writing is, in my opinion, a gift. It doesn’t matter to me if I do or do not enjoy a novel. The fact that someone was actually able to string together words long enough to compile a novel in the first place is a respectable undertaking. A book is neither good nor bad. Even the books I know I love so much have sometimes caused my friends who have been subjected to them to kind of shrug their shoulders and say “meh” at me. They are subjective things, more so than most media outlets, because they don’t rely as much on the author’s skill as they do the reader’s own level of creativity to actually visualise what they’re reading. Whether they enjoy it is often a case of whether they relate to, or can see the characters. To me, if they can’t relate, then that just means the book wasn’t targetting them.

Why did I put that rant into this review?

Because, intriguingly, I feel Andy Remic’s target audience isn’t necessarily the hardcore fantasy reader, but possibly those who have just thought of moving on from R.A. Salvatore and into higher fantasy, but still want the action and basic flow. And the person writing that vitriolic nonsense seems, to me, to have a rather low level of creativity, flair, and intelligence so I would have thought Mister Remic’s books would have been too hard for him. It was, for me, a moment of weirdness as I read this book.

I hope, of course, Mister Remic takes no offense at being put so close to R.A. Salvatore on my bookshelf, but if it makes him feel better, I also put David Gemmell there, too and whilst I’m not a big Salvatore fan, I am a big Gemmell fan. In fact, I’m so big a fan that I was very chuffed to see a dedication in the front of Kell’s Legend from Mister Remic to the late great master of a genre of fantasy which I had thought lost – Heroic Fantasy. It’s been so long since we had Robin Hood, or Conan the Barbarian floating around, and Gemmell – he updated them with class. For me, Gemmell revived my favourite heroes and gave them a good kick in the pants.

Mister Remic looks like he could do this, too.

Druss, he was always my favourite, and it looks like Mister Remic feels this way, too. It has to be said that Kell is an obvious homage to the greatest axeman ever written. Mister Remic has written Kell in such a way that it’s like reading a lost episode of Druss. Perhaps he wouldn’t like me to say that, but I mean it in a cheerful and nostalgic way.

Plotwise, it’s fairly simple going – badguys invade, our guy Kell escapes with innocent granddaughter and amusing new sidekick before battling his way to warn the king of the kingdom’s impending doom. Now, I don’t care if Mister Remic’s flamer thinks he’s too simple, or not very good at some things, but I do think that what Andy Remic does well is keep his story flowing. He keeps the action coming, and when he pauses, it’s only for the characters to catch a breath. There’s no endless trudging through the paths of this or that forest. When he gets his characters to enter a haunted wood, then they barely get foot into the wood before BAM! they’re in the thick of fighting once more. Also, there’s a lot more here than you might be thinking.

Firstly, I was mostly impressed by the vachine, Andy Remic’s badguys. They’re like steampunk vampires, and that’s just so ubercool it borders on the very icy edges of slick. Without doubt, one of the more interesting characters in the story is Anu, the heroic female vachine who’s been engineered just a little too well by her steampunk father who turned her into something truly uber. I felt there was a whole story here alone, and would love to see her kicking some more vachine butt in the next book. In fact, I’m looking forward more to her than I am for Kell. She’s the one with the really interesting story and the potential to be something truly awesome.

The cankers, too, were a fine addition, as are the hideous Harvesters. The whole general feel of the vachine are ultimately what gives this novel its power. Without their cloak of well-oiled clockwork bits, I really think this novel may not have worked as well. With them, it adds a fresh flavour.

Kell, also, while you might feel at the beginning that you’re getting little more than a Druss clone, soon developed into his own. He’s a little edgier, a little less polished as such, and a little more homicidal. Perhaps a bit insane. Combine that with an elegant talking axe (almost pulling a Stormbringer on me!), and you have the potential for something which breaks free of the obvious homage and into the realms of real fun. By the end, I was much more liking Kell than I did at the beginning. He’s more interesting by then.

The action scenes are tight, brutal, and made more interesting by Kell’s axe. I love the axe.

Really.

In fact, I want one.

I think what made Kell’s Legend a problem for Mister Remic is that after beginning on the basis of homage, he’s having to wrestle it back under control, and I can see him doing it rather well. The steampunk vampire addition was one way of taking it right out of Mister Gemmell’s shadow, and I think that’s why the novel manages to, albeit a little slower than I thought it would, take it back to being Mister Remic’s story. It’s a terribly hard call to make from me – to assume so much was homage, but once you’re thinking about it, it’s hard to let that thought go. It is, unfortunately for me, extremely hard to stop thinking of the homage element and see it as a single novel standing alone. It is so far seeped in Mister Gemmell’s shadow that it is almost like Mister Remic and Mister Gemmell are related. They certainly share a love of the same thing.

And, by the way, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. The character of Druss, wasn’t itself any new thing either. It’s not a polite, nor accurate, thing to say that Mister Remic has simply cut and pasted a favourite character. He has, rather, adapted a popular feeling and contorted it sufficiently enough to finally claim it as his own. Kell is not as Druss as you would think, by the end. He’s actually a lot more cantankerous (a good thing!) and much more prone to moments of evil himself. He’s got a nasty reputation – and with good cause. And, dammit, that’s why I liked him.

It’s also worth pointing out that there’s many books on the market which are obviously drawn from the same well, so to speak. It’s very common. More common now that younger writers, living in the shadows of Feist, Jordan, and indeed Gemmell, are stretching their wings. They can’t help but be so influenced by their idols. It happens in the music industry, and god knows how many actors and actresses all look the same to me. Being similar isn’t quite the same as being a copy (as you will see in my next review of Sixty-One Nails by Mike Shevdon – whose book is being talked up as a Gaiman clone). It just shows there’s an influence. And that, really, is the most important thing I learned after reading this book. I have to say, I was influenced when I picked it up by some negative comments regarding just this, but in the end they didn’t matter to me at all.

I am, after all, immune to the opinions of others. How? Because most of these others like Terry Goodkind, that’s why.

In any case, it’s true to say Mister Remic didn’t write a book which grabbed me from the opening pages. He didn’t write a book which satisfied my thirst for heroic fantasy. He wrote instead a book which grew on me, which dropped, ever so slowly, like a penny in a gumball machine. It took its time, but by the end you can kind of feel it’s going in the right direction, and that he’s got a firm hold of the reigns and you feel sorry you doubted him in the first place. Reading Andy Remic is like driving a formula one racing car with your earplugs in. You don’t realise just how fast you were going, or how much fun you were having, until you take them out.

I am, therefore, greatly looking forward to the next book, if just to read more about these wonderful vachine! They’re just brilliant!

So, to the crazy little goblin who wrote silly things to Mister Remic, I do have to say – being constructive about something is a lot more interesting than being destructive. It shows you were awake enough to pay attention, creative enough to make a decision, and respectful enough to express an opinion – without resorting to judgements regarding biology, gender, or sexual preference. I’d say I would very much like to read something the goblin wrote (as he obviously thinks he can do better), but I’m pretty sure judging by his style and lack of wit, that I wouldn’t like it half as much as I liked Kell’s Legend, which, for all its experiments and glamorous homage, is still a wonderfully alive and thrilling read.