By Taylor Marshall
I’ve been familiar with Taylor Marshall for a couple of years, since I
stumbled upon his website [LINK]
while researching the question of the dating of Christmas late one Christmas
night [LINK]. I gradually became a regular reader of his website, and from there about the middle of last year I ended up signing into
his New Saint Thomas Institute [LINK] initiative in
order to follow his one-year course in Catholic Theology (one of several reasons
my blogging in general has decreased and the nature of this blog in particular
has shifted somewhat over the past year – there’s quite a bit of “non-bloggable”
reading involved). I also started
listening to his podcast, The Taylor
Marshall Show [LINK]. I was thus aware some months back that
Marshall was making his first foray into writing fiction with this historical
novel about St. George and the Dragon. I
eagerly awaited it and downloaded the Kindle edition as soon as it became
available.
The basic plot is this:
Parallel stories are told, of a young man called “Jurian,” but more
formally named Lucius Aurelius Georgius, son of a deceased Anatolian Christian
Roman official in the reign of Diocletian just as the Great Persecution began;
and of a young woman named Sabra, daughter of the Roman governor of the North
African city of Cyrene – and priestess of a cult making monthly child sacrifice
to ward off the wrath of the old Punic god Molech who has taken up residence in
the neighboring hills. Along the way, we
encounter such figures of the age, ca. AD 300, as St. Christopher, St.
Nicholas, and St. Blaise, as well as a young Constantine, and have Arthurian
legend drawn into the tale with the introduction of a sword forged in legend
and bearing an abbreviated inscription– “EX
. CA . LIB . UR” – to be read as “Ex
Calce Liberandus Urso,” “From the stone to be freed by the bear” …. “Artos?”
as whispered by one of the minor characters ….
If you know anything of the legend of St. George, you know how this tale
eventually plays out, but the aforementioned interpolations into the story and an
open ending, not exactly a cliffhanger but rather plenty of unfinished
business, promise more to come. And
listeners to The Taylor Marshall Show,
specifically Episode 58, know that Marshall envisions a series of novels
apparently covering the climactic early-fourth-century turn of the Roman Empire
from darkness to light.
My basic assessment is that Marshall has a future in this area in
addition to his already accomplished leadership in the emergence of digital,
multimedia catechesis. But this remains
very much a first novel. I enjoyed it, even
though I found it a bit slow getting going.
It did get better as it progressed, but I think it would have benefited
from a good editor. Not for what I find
increasingly annoying as the publishing industry devolves and decentralizes from
the big “professional” publishers to smaller “mom-and-pop” “desktop publishing”
operations, an increasing frequency of typographical errors and misprints (which I didn't really notice here), but
simply for length. Some sections of this
book could, I believe, have been condensed and tightened to the benefit of the
overall story.
To be sure, some parts, particularly those having to do with Sabra,
are extremely well written. She comes
across as the best-developed character in the book, which may have something to
do, paradoxically (or maybe not), with the fact that her story came late to the
tale and at the behest of early readers of the work-in-progress that there
needed to be a strong female presence.
Marshall succeeds in that task, especially in comparison with the other
major female character, Jurian’s younger sister, Mari, who was presumably part
of the story from early on. Jurian
himself, the main character, unfortunately is not a terribly compelling
character in the earlier parts of the book, although he gets more interesting
toward the end. Rightly or wrongly, I
attribute all of that to Marshall’s development as a writer, both within the
book and across successive drafts, and I expect the anticipated sequels to be
better from the get-go. The fact is,
every writer has to start somewhere, and I’ve seen more than one author’s so-so
first release be followed up by an immediately superior succession of
novels. Two that come to mind
immediately are Katherine Kurtz’s Deryni
Rising and Jim Butcher’s Storm Front,
both of them awkward and unformed beginnings to what subsequently became two of
my all-time favorite series, The Deryni
Chronicles and The Dresden Files. I'm not even sure I'd call this book "awkward and unformed"; it just bogged down in places, particularly toward the beginning.
In the end, I would recommend this book as much for the promise it
holds as for its inherent quality. It is quite enjoyable if you press on through the slower parts, and it offers
a reasonably believable historical reconstruction of one of the most important
generations in history with just the right dashes of the supernatural thrown
in. I expect those strengths to be
enhanced by more skillful execution in future volumes. Appropriately enough since it developed out
of knights-and-castles bedtime stories for his children, Sword and Serpent is billed as a “Young Adult” novel, and I
probably will invest in a copy to pass on to my niece and nephew.
Cheers, and Thanks for reading!
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