The Riftwar Saga: Fifteen Years Later’ve read approximately thirteen novels by one Mr. Raymond E. Feist, making him, along with Piers Anthony, the most read author of my life. This is somewhat of a disturbing realization on my part. I would note here that while I’ve read thirteen novels set in Midkemia and Xanth respectively, I’ve read even more set in Krynn. . . well over thirty. For the uninformed, Krynn is Dragonlance, the role playing game novelizations that I (and Jared Shurin) would argue as the face that launched a thousand ships in the hearts and minds of budding fantasists. I’m not really selling myself as a connoisseur of literature am I?

While my memories of the Xanth and Dragonlance novels feel accurate, namely that they are by and large unreadable to an older audience, I have continued to feel adequately warm and fuzzy about Raymond Feist’s work. So much so that I’ve actively waited for the day that his older novels would cross the electronic divide so that I might re-avail myself of them. Don’t everyone go running off to their favorite eBook retailer to pick up their copy though because I got tired of waiting and just ordered them in mass market paperback, which, by the by, feels like a horribly archaic way to go about reading backlist titles.

I think this is what we in the industry call ‘writing my way into things.’

It all goes to say that I read Raymond Feist as a teenager and I loved it. I really fucking loved it. I loved it so much I had to find everything just like it and read that too. Which leads me to today, where I consume genre literature with abandon and feel the need to tell everyone what I think about the things I read. So, I suppose I should send Feist a thank you note (or you should send him an angry one). Instead, I’m going to spend quite a few paragraphs telling readers how many things he does wrong while still managing to present pieces of fiction that have stood the test of time.

midkemia feist map

It begins with Magician: Apprentice, which begins itself in a castle keep with an orphaned kitchen boy destined for greatness. If that sounds familiar, I could be talking about David Edding’s Pawn of Prophecy or Lloyd Alexander’s The Book of Three, proving once again that when attempting to connect with a young audience it’s best to provide them with a path to efficacy that involves almost no hard work. What young person can resist such a sirens song? Not I, even at the tender and vulnerable age of thirty-one. Apprentice grabbed me quickly, investing in Pugs rise from kitchen boy, to magician’s apprentice, to princess minder, to squire of the court, to slave, to the most powerful wizard alive.

Like any good fledgling wizard, Pug has a companion — Tomas. Tomas is everything Pug is not, easy to get along with, confident, strong, and not orphaned. Unlike Pug who has to work for his gains in stature and power (although almost all that hard work happens off camera, greatly lessening its impact, but then who wants to read that boring stuff?), Tomas stumbles across a dragon’s horde and is subsequently bequeathed the nearly limitless power of an ancient race of dragon riders. There’s no journey for Tomas, one day he’s a teenage dream with a sword and the next he’s Ashen-Shugar, the last Valheru (who were the beings that created all the other beings and made them slaves until they got bored and tried to kill the gods and then killed each other). As the novel progresses, moving into Magician:Master, then Silverthorn, then A Darkness at Sethanon, Tomas is forced to deal with what that power does to his humanity. It’s the only time he presents anything of interest to the reader beyond how kick ass he is with a sword. But, by that time, it’s become clear that Tomas is necessary to defeat the novels’ villains, thus robbing any tension such a conflict might engender.

feist magician masterOddly, despite the novels beginning in Crydee with Tomas and Pug as the focus, both share the stage with two others as the series’ primary characters — Arutha, son of the Duke to whom Pug and Tomas owe fealty, and Jimmy the Hand, erstwhile thief of Krondor who doesn’t even show up in the first installment. Both are clear archetypes, easily as identifiable as Pug and Tomas, the cold and calculating commander and the ruffian scoundrel each with a heart of gold only eclipsed by their sense of honor. Feist structures the novels so that anytime Pug or Tomas might start doing something boring like being a slave, learning magic, dealing with his godlike powers, or developing emotional attachments to things, he quickly jumps to Arutha, who never seems to stop fighting off assassination attempts or fleeing from wicked dark elves through forest of such and such filled with bad things.

While I’m on the subject of what Feist does poorly, I should mention the deus ex machina upon which the whole series hinges. Macros the Black. Macros is Feist’s stand-in for Allanon, Gandalf, Belgarion, and Fizban. In fact, in the early eighties it seems almost impossible that a fantasy novel of any great success exists without an all powerful wizard who can show up, wave his hand about, and solve all the heroes problems. Like the nature of the effortless rise to power (see Pug and Tomas), I can’t help but ponder this plot device as another tantalizer for the young adult — even when shit gets really bad as it’s wont to do in those teenage years have no fear because someone much older and wiser is sure to have the answers you require! This relationship is so clear that by series end, Macros has fundamentally robbed most of Feist’s character of any agency.

feist silverthornMacros does manage not to rob any of the female characters of agency. Of course, that’s entirely due to the fact that there isn’t a female character with agency to begin with. Feist almost completely ignores women other than to provide his male leads with love interests or motivations to become more heroic. That’s not to say all his women are doting house wives. At least in one case he writes a ‘strong’ women, but she never steps out of the shadow of the men around her, becoming someone’s wife and fading quickly out of focus. I should note here that in Feist’s future work, female character play a larger role, particularly in the Empire Trilogy co-written with Janny Wurts.

While I’m being critical, there’s something inherently silly about massive conflicts that are resolved by a small group of individuals who can infiltrate the bad guys lair, kill of a couple of them, and things are okay. This is the fallacy of, ‘a few people can get places an army cannot.’ I buy the basic tenet. . . two people can fit through a door that three people can’t. But, in the middle of a massive conflict the notion that removing two or three key influencers is enough to end a conflict is, to quote Nick Swardson, “a Grand Canyon made out of dreams and whispers.” Oh, especially when there’s some prophecy that supports it all.

feist darkness at sethanonNow, all of those criticisms I’ve just made, and I think they are all perfectly legitimate and appropriate, almost have to be examined through the lens of when they were written. And, in that respect, Feist doesn’t do anything objectionably unique. Nearly all of his contemporaries fall into the same pitfalls. With that in mind, and everything I’ve already said, Raymond Feist’s Riftwar Saga is one of the most enduring stories of its time, and one that continues to be readable and worthwhile for modern readers. I’m sure the question on everyone’s lips is why?


Or, because unlike Dragonlance and its ilk, Feist’s novels aren’t written in crayon. The Riftwar Saga is readable, and well paced, and perfectly structured. There’s little unnecessary exposition and the narrative flows from one action scene to the next. The recent decision by Feist’s UK and Australia publishers to release the series in young adult versions seems incredibly wise to me. Not only does it capitalize on a new readership (and one that has likely not been exposed to Feist yet), but it sets expectations for the series where they belong. The themes and styles contained in Magician: Apprentice, Magician: Master, Silverthorn, and A Darkness at Sethanon, are those best served to be absorbed by teenagers who won’t notice all the hand waving and conveniences on which the stories rely.

In other words, approach with caution yon adult reader, but do approach nevertheless. To understand some of the places today’s fantasies have arrived, there’s value in reading what’s come before. Raymond Feist stands as one of the real forerunners of fantasy’s expansion and acceptance in the 1980′s, albeit one that is too often forgotten next to Terry Brooks and Robert Jordan.

Justin Landon

Justin Landon is the Overlord of Staffer's Book Review. When he's not writing things of dubious value to the world, he's at the gym or being a dad. You can follow him on a multitude of social media, which is strongly suggested lest you miss out on vital information that could someday save your life.

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  • Mieneke April 8, 2013 at 10:25 am

    Awesome post, Justin. And completely agree. As I said nedore, I’m planning a Midkemia Reread for my own blog come May and am reading ahead for it at the moment. Reading now what I first read when I was fifteen is a strange experience. Feist was one of the first fantasy authors I read and I wasn’t as aware of the tropes of the genre as I am now. So when I reread the passage where they hit the mines in Magician, all I could think this time around was, dude, Moria!

    Also, he might not be as gifted a word-smith as some more recent writers; you could call his prose workman-like, but he sure knows how to tell an engaging story!

    • Mieneke April 8, 2013 at 10:26 am

      nedore=before of course *facepalm*

    • Justin April 8, 2013 at 10:27 am

      Yup, it’s extremely readable. His dialogue isn’t terrible. etc.

      They’re just pretty fun to read in a non-distracting kind of way.

  • Rob B April 8, 2013 at 10:32 am

    Sometimes this is reason enough to like something:


    Although I came to Feist long after I became entrenched in reading SFFH, and the tropes were easy to spot, I still found the first four books (and even Prince of Blood) immensely enjoyable. The Empire novels with Wurts are also solid reads, few notches above what one would call “Perfectly Acceptable Fantasy” novels.

    • Justin April 8, 2013 at 10:37 am

      Yeah, I think the Empire Trilogy is fantastic, or at least that’s how I remember it.

  • Paul Weimer (@princejvstin) April 8, 2013 at 10:43 am

    I had been reading more SF than F at the time when I encountered Feist for the first time–and that was through the videogame Betrayal at Krondor. My older brother and I felt we should read the books and understand the world better…

  • Foz Meadows April 8, 2013 at 11:15 am

    Back in high school, my geeky guy friends, all of whom were fans of Feist, tried repeatedly to get me into his novels. Eventually, I gave them a try, and while there were certainly some aspects I liked (the Kelewan setting, Jimmy the Hand, Nakor) I remember being overwhelmingly pissed off at how comprehensively Feist had plagiarised Tolkein’s The Silmarillion for his backstory. The Valheru are basically the Valar, the Lifestone is a Silmaril, the disapora of the elves mimics Tolkein’s diaspora of the caliquendi and moriquendi, and so on – and given that I was a big fan of The Silmarillion at the time, I always struggled to understand why, when Feist had managed to create this awesome, immersive, Asian-themed world in the form of Kelewan, full of original species like the Thun and Cho’ja, interesting female characters and involved politics, he instead preferred to tie it to Midkemia, which was a bog-standard European fantasy realm whose origins he’d essentially nicked from the genre’s progenitor, and focus on archetypal male characters. Thus, I only ever read as far as the start of The Serpentwar Saga, after which I gave up.

    Looking back from my current perspective as someone who routinely critiques gender issues in SFF, my teenage self struggled to get into writers like Feist, Eddings, Jordan and Goodkind precisely because they were so heavily male-dominated; or rather, male-dominated in a way that felt exclusionary. Instead, I gravitated towards authors whose female characters had agency, and who didn’t write pervasively in the male gaze – Robin Hobb, Katharine Kerr, Kate Elliott – and it’s only now, looking back, that I realise how starkly divided my reading choices were along gender lines: the books my male friends recommended were overwhelmingly male-authored, while all the books I found for myself were overwhelmingly female-authored. And it wasn’t like I had any objection to male authors; it was just that, over and over again, I’d end up being frustrated by their work, because their female characters seldom felt like actual people.

    • Justin April 8, 2013 at 11:21 am

      Yup. I never read the Simarillion so I missed some of those connections, but given how closely Brooks’ SHANNARA stuff is to LotR perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised Feist did something similar.

      It is REALLY striking looking back on these books and realizing how gender singular they are.

      • Foz Meadows April 8, 2013 at 11:31 am

        Shannara was another series I couldn’t get into for similar reasons. Luckily, though, there were other authors around to fall back on – Elliott, Kerr and Hobb were my big three, but there was also Tamora Pierce, Sara Douglass, Anne McCaffrey and Terry Pratchett to help see me through.

  • BigZ7337 April 8, 2013 at 9:30 pm

    I’ve read and loved almost all of Raymond E. Feist’s books, but I have noticed a decline in quality, especially in this last series. Have you read his latest books? They’re pretty weak with the stories largely feeling inconsequential, and the one that came out last year had the most errors I’ve ever seen in a book, including Pug and Magnus being switched for an entire chapter (Here’s my review of that book where I go into more detail: ). Disregarding the newest series, I’ve always enjoyed reading Feist’s books, and I think they’re great lighter fantasy.

  • pabkins April 9, 2013 at 6:28 pm

    I have read a few of the David Eddings ones – so I think I could handle this one. It’s good knowing in that there are a lot of convenient setups for the characters and that it would be better placed as YA rather than adult. I hope they give them new covers for the re-launch.

  • LuisB April 14, 2013 at 5:54 pm

    Feist novels were among the first ones I read after branching out to “real” fantasy after my humble begginings (like a lot of people I’m sure) with Drizzt and friends ™ they’re like comic books in a sense that you can see how things are going to turn out from miles ahead and still enjoy the ride, really good pageturners. One thing that’s gonna that took me a lot to get used to and I still hate about these books and while frankly is really shallow and has nothing to do with the actual quality and/or content is how crappy (even for fantasy) the character names are, I mean “Pug” seriously?, granted I’m sure that looking at medieval times for inspiration there were worse naming crimes that this one but still, and being from south america whenever I read “Princess/Queen Anita” I just cringed.

  • fantasist April 20, 2013 at 11:30 am

    Feist, Brooks and Jordan. These are some of the foremost authors who are truly the forerunners of where fantasy stands today and I would never have been a genre fan, if not for them.

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