The Gentleman Bastard Sequence

[PTY]

Istina je da poslednjih godina ne svracam cesto u fentezi a i strecam se citanja nedovrsenih serijala (a kasnije se u istoj meri strecam glomaznosti dovrsenih  ), no ovo je serijal kojem se stvarno radujem a i bas mi je drago da vidim kako se i Scott Lynch izvukao iz problema i vratio u formu. I mada je bio prisutan na LJ, sad je pokrenuo svoj blog Lynch Industries http://www.scottlynch.us/blog/ i krenuo punom parom ka... novim horizontima.   

Treci Gentlmen Bastard deo (The Republic of Thieves) bio najavljen za kraj ove godine a najavljen je i The Bastards and the Knives, nesto kao sajdvejz prikvel: http://upcoming4.me/news/book-news/scott-lynch-the-bastards-and-the-knives-to-be-published-summary-and-cover-art-revealed

Nadam se da ce uskoro biti vise detalja o datumima izdavanja i ostala 4 naslova, ako Lynch odluci da se drzi najavljenog redosleda. Jel citao ko The Lies of Locke Lamora i Red Seas Under Red Skies?

[Nightflier]

Čekaj, od svega mogućeg od epske fantastike i srodnih zamešateljstva, ti si se uhvatila baš za Skota Linča??? (Tri upitnika ili uzvičnika na kraju rečenice - siguran znak ludila, po Pračetu.)

Ja sam čitao još kada se to pojavilo i Linč je najslabiji u svojoj generaciji pisaca - kako po originalnosti i zanatskom umeću, tako i po izbrušenosti jezika i onoj efemernoj "zabavnosti", koja je - makar po meni - najvažnija odlika. Ja sam čak i odustao pred kraj drugog romana.

Ukoliko želiš da se posvetiš fantaziju, ovakvom ili onakvom, ima mnogo boljih pisaca kojima možeš da pokloniš svoju pažnju. Čak pisaca koji pišu vrlo mature dela, za razliku od neoromantičara, poput Linčovih generacijskih kolega, Sandersona i Rotfasa.

[PTY]

 Da, da, dobri čika Pračet se ne libi da stvari nazove pravim imenima. Da nedajbože kojim slučajem gvirne na ovaj forum, došao bi do zaključka da trenutačni trend favorizuje upravo ludake!!!!! I to na amfetaminima!!!!11!!!111 

Za ostalo što se Linča tiče, aj beg to difer. Naravno, to čisto za moj groš, a i bez bog zna kako valjane argumentacije, pošto, kako rekoh, zaista malo o epskom fenteziju znam jer mi odavno nije žanr u koji razdragano svrnem, zapravo, poslednja fentezi knjiga koje se sa nostalgijom i oduševljenjem i dandanas sećam je... Mythago Wood, pa ti sad vidi. 

Elem, prvi Gentlmen Bastards roman kreće skroz u Oliver Tvist maniru: Locke Lamora ima svega pet godina kad je bačen u karantin sa ostalom gradskom siročadi koja su izgubili roditelje u naletu kuge ili tako već nečega. Nakon par dana, populacija dece u karantinu je prepolovljena. I dok preživelu decu čeka nimalo zavidna sudbina jeftine robe po kuplerajima, tu dolazi izvesni Thiefmaker koji je taman dovoljno modelisan po Dikensovom Faginu da tu prosto "padnete" na radnju i stil i karakterizaciju jednako. Naravno da malecki i sitni Locke Lamora nije među tridesetoricom odabranih od strane Thiefmakera, ali LL je dete toliko snalažljivo i spretno da ne samo uspeva da se progura kao tridesetprvi u tridesetoricu, nego još i privoli gardiste da ga u naručju iznesu iz karantina. Thiefmaker sve to prati i ne reaguje, pošto u detetu prepoznaje kvalitet koji upravo njegovi štićenici moraju da poseduju u izobilju, ali ubrzo se ispostavi da je Locke Lamora te iste gardiste - i to u sred tog silnog dobročinstva kojim su ga obasuli - olakšao za novčanike, pa je siroti Thiefmaker morao ne samo da novčanike vrati ljutitim vlasnicima, nego ih još i obilno nakrca srebrom, sve u ime izvinjenja. Ubrzo se ispostavlja da Locke Lamora ima neverovatan talenat za lopovluke svake vrste i tu se priča razilazi sa Dikensovim modelom i nudi originalno svoj. A pošto Locke Lamora postaje sve drskiji u svojoj veštini, pravi bukvalno rusvaj po gradu i Thiefmaker na kraju shvata da će ga to dete garant doći glave, pa ga prodaje Chainsu, svešteniku koji se specijalizovao upravo u veštinama za koje Locke Lamora ima toliko talenta.

Sve u svemu, ovo je radnja iz tek 2 ili 3 početna poglavlja, pa i to govori koliko je roman obilan. Za stil i jezik i karakterizaciju imam samo reči hvale, šta da radim, ovo mi za sada izgleda kao da je za mene pisano, i ne bih to menjala za Sandersona i Rotfasta, zaista, s obzirom da sam obojicu overila na ipak malko obilnijem uzorku nego Linča.

[Nightflier]

To each his own, I guess. Meni je Linć znatno slabiji pisav od ove dvojice, a kamoli od Ričarda Morgana i Metjua Stovera.

[PTY]

Ma naravno, ja to tvrdim striktno iz aj-of-d-beholder POVa.    Linčov humor možda i nema onu dobrostivu zabavnost Pračetovog, krcatiji je cinizmom i sarkazmom i svakoraznom profanošću, ali deli neke karakteristike sa Pračetovim iz meni najdražih romana Glinene noge i Noćna straža. Evo kako to kod Linča izgleda:







AT THE HEIGHT of the long wet summer of the Seventy-seventh Year of Sendovani, the Thiefmaker of Camorr paid a sudden and unannounced visit to the Eyeless Priest at the Temple of Perelandro, desperately hoping to sell him the Lamora boy.


"Have I got a deal for you!" the Thiefmaker began, perhaps inauspiciously.


"Another deal like Calo and Galdo, maybe?" said the Eyeless Priest. "I've still got my hands full training those giggling idiots out of every bad habit they picked up from you and replacing them with the bad habits I need."


"Now, Chains." The Thiefmaker shrugged. "I told you they were shit-flinging little monkeys when we made the deal, and it was good enough for you at the—"


"Or maybe another deal like Sabetha?" The priest's richer, deeper voice chased the Thiefmaker's objection right back down his throat. "I'm sure you recall charging me everything but my dead mother's kneecaps for her. I should've paid you in copper and watched you spring a rupture trying to haul it all away."


"Ahhhhhh, but she was special, and this boy, he's special, too," said the Thiefmaker. "Everything you asked me to look for after I sold you Calo and Galdo. Everything you liked so much about Sabetha! He's Camorri, but a mongrel. Therin and Vadran blood with neither dominant. He's got larceny in his heart, sure as the sea's full of fish piss. And I can even let you have him at a... a discount."


The Eyeless Priest spent a long moment mulling this. "You'll pardon me," he finally said, "if the suggestion that the minuscule black turnip you call a heart is suddenly overflowing with generosity toward me leaves me wanting to arm myself and put my back against a wall."


The Thiefmaker tried to let a vaguely sincere expression scurry onto his face, where it froze in evident discomfort. His shrug was theatrically casual. "There are, ah, problems with the boy, yes. But the problems are unique to his situation in my care. Were he under yours, I'm sure they would, ahhhh, vanish."


"Oh. You have a magic boy. Why didn't you say so?" The priest scratched his forehead beneath the white silk blindfold that covered his eyes. "Magnificent. I'll plant him in the fucking ground and grow a vine to an enchanted land beyond the clouds."


"Ahhhhh! I've tasted that flavor of sarcasm before, Chains." The Thiefmaker gave an arthritic mock bow. "That's the sort you spit out as a bargaining posture. Is it really so hard to say that you're interested?"


The Eyeless Priest shrugged. "Suppose Calo, Galdo, and Sabetha might be able to use a new playmate, or at least a new punching bag. Suppose I'm willing to spend about three coppers and a bowl of piss for a mystery boy. But you'll still need to convince me that you deserve the bowl of piss. What's the boy's problem?"


"His problem," said the Thiefmaker, "is that if I can't sell him to you, I'm going to have to slit his throat and throw him in the bay. And I'm going to have to do it tonight."


2


ON THE night the Lamora boy had come to live under the Thiefmaker's care, the old graveyard on Shades' Hill had been full of children, standing at silent attention and waiting for their new brothers and sisters to be led down into the mausoleums.


The Thiefmaker's wards all carried candles; their cold blue light shone through the silver curtains of river mist as streetlamps might glimmer through a smoke-grimed window. A chain of ghostlight wound its way down from the hilltop, through the stone markers and ceremonial paths, down to the wide glass bridge over the Coalsmoke Canal, half-visible in the blood-warm fog that seeps up from Camorr's wet bones on summer nights.


"Come now, my loves, my jewels, my newlyfounds, keep the pace," whispered the Thiefmaker as he nudged the last of the thirty or so Catchfire orphans over the Coalsmoke Bridge. "These lights are just your new friends, come to guide your way up my hill. Move now, my treasures. There's darkness wasting, and we have so much to talk about."


In rare moments of vain reflection, the Thiefmaker thought of himself as an artist. A sculptor, to be precise, with orphans as his clay and the old graveyard on Shades' Hill as his studio.


Eighty-eight thousand souls generated a certain steady volume of waste; this waste included a constant trickle of lost, useless, and abandoned children. Slavers took some of them, hauling them off to Tal Verrar or the Jeremite Islands. Slavery was technically illegal in Camorr, of course, but the act of enslavement itself was winked at, if there was no one left to speak for the victim.


So, slavers got some, and plain stupidity took a few more. Starvation and the diseases it brought were also common ways to go, for those who lacked the courage or the skill to pluck a living from the city around them. And then, of course, those with courage but no skill often wound up swinging from the Black Bridge in front of the Palace of Patience. The duke's magistrates disposed of little thieves with the same rope they used on bigger ones, though they did see to it that the little ones went over the side of the bridge with weights tied to their ankles to help them hang properly.


Any orphans left after dicing with all of those colorful possibilities were swept up by the Thiefmaker's own crew, one at a time or in small, frightened groups. Soon enough they would learn what sort of life awaited them beneath the graveyard that was the heart of his realm, where seven score of cast-off children bent the knee to a single bent old man.


"Quick-step, my lovelies, my new sons and daughters; follow the line of lights and step to the top. We're almost home, almost fed, almost washed up and bedded down. Out of the rain and the mist and the stinking heat."


Plagues were a time of special opportunity for the Thiefmaker, and the Catchfire orphans had crawled away from his very favorite sort: Black Whisper. It fell on the Catchfire district from points unknown, and the quarantine had gone up (death by clothyard shaft for anyone trying to cross a canal or escape on a boat) in time to save the rest of the city from everything but unease and paranoia. Black Whisper meant a miserable death for anyone over the age of eleven or twelve (as near as physikers could figure, for the plague was not content to reap by overly firm rules) and a few days of harmless swollen eyes and red cheeks for anyone younger.


By the fifth day of the quarantine, there were no more screams and no more attempted canal crossings, so Catchfire evaded the namesake fate that had befallen it so many times before in years of pestilence. By the eleventh day, when the quarantine was lifted and the duke's Ghouls went in to survey the mess, perhaps one in eight of the four hundred children previously living there had survived the wait. They had already formed gangs for mutual protection, and had learned certain cruel necessities of life without adults.


The Thiefmaker was waiting as they were corralled and led out from the sinister silence of their old neighborhood.
He paid good silver for the best thirty, and even more good silver for the silence of the Ghouls and constables he relieved of the children. Then he led them, dazed and hollow-cheeked and smelling like hell, into the dark steambath mists of the Camorri night, toward the old graveyard on Shades' Hill.


The Lamora boy was the youngest and smallest of the lot, five or six years old, nothing but jutting bones under skin rich with dirt and hollow angles. The Thiefmaker hadn't even chosen him; the boy had simply crept away with the others as though he belonged.


The Thiefmaker was not unaware of this, but he'd lived the sort of life in which even a single free plague orphan was a windfall not to be overlooked.


It was the summer of the Seventy-seventh Year of Gandolo, Father of Opportunities, Lord of Coin and Commerce. The Thiefmaker padded through the shrouded night, shepherding his ragged line of children.


In just two years he would be all but begging Father Chains, the Eyeless Priest, to take the Lamora boy off his hands—and sharpening his knives in case the priest refused.


3


THE EYELESS Priest scratched his gray-stubbled throat. "No shit?"


"None whatsoever." The Thiefmaker reached down the front of a doublet that was several years past merely shabby and pulled out a leather pouch on a fine leather cord; the pouch was dyed the rust red of dried blood. "Already went to the big man and got permission. I'll do the boy ear to ear and send him for teeth lessons."


"Gods. It's a sob story after all." For an Eyeless Priest, the fingers he jabbed into the Thiefmaker's sternum struck swift and sure.


"Find some other lackwit to shackle with the chains of your conscience."


"Conscience can go piss up a chimney, Chains. I'm talking avarice, yours and mine. I can't keep the boy, and I'm offering you a unique opportunity. A genuine bargain."


"If the boy's too unruly to keep, why can't you just pound some wisdom into him and let him ripen to a proper age of sale?"


"Out of the question, Chains. Limited options. I can't just slap him around, because I can't let any of the other little shits know what he's, ahhh, done. If any of them had the slightest inclination to pull what he's pulled... gods! I'd never be able to control them again.
I can either kill him quick, or sell him quicker. No profit versus a paltry sum. So guess which one I prefer?"


"The boy's done something you can't even mention in front of the others?" Chains massaged his forehead above the blindfold and sighed. "Shit. This sounds like something I might actually be interested in hearing."

[Dacko]

Uživala sam čitajući Laži Loka Lamore, iz otprilike onih razloga koje je navela Libeat, dok me je drugi deo razočarao, kao da je građen po modelu prvog, sa sve smrću bitnog lika, samo ovog puta sasvim predvidljivom. Nadam se da će se u trećem delu pokazati da se Skotova inspiracija vratila.

Očito se meni i Najtflajeru ukus dosta razlikuje, s tim što je verovatno njegov istančaniji budući da fantastiku vrlo pomno prati, dok se ja u zadnje vreme  hvatam samo za onu neozbiljnu, sa ironičnim otklonom i ciljem samo da zabavi (npr. Aberkrombi), jer nešto nemam strpljenja za ozbiljnije i komplikovanije svetove, kakvi cenim da su pisci koje je pomenuo kao neoromantičare.

[Perin]

Blah, meni jeLinč bezze. Laži Loka Lamore nisam ni dočitao. Sećam se da sam pre par godina krenuo da ga čitam u ebook formatu i odustao. Ne znam, lik mi se nije dopao

[Dacko]

Možda priča o snalažljivom siročetu koje još nema ni sreće u ljubavi prosto više pogađa neke ženske žice?  I možda se muškarcima ne sviđa upravo zato što je lik skroz napravljen da se dopadne ženama.

[PTY]

Dacko macko, a baš sam slutila da bi ti se ovo moglo dopasti, a još sad kad vidim da i ti u zadnje vreme preferišeš fentezi sa ironičnim otklonom, sve mi je jasno, sve.  )


Nego reci, da li si čitala u prevodu? i ako jesi, kakav je?


(baš mi krivo za drugi deo, sjuriću ga onda neposredno pre no što izađe treći, da ne kvarim utisak na duže vreme.)

[Dacko]

Meni je odličan. Prvi deo je preveo Nikola Pajvančić, a drugi deo, čak i bolje, Nevena Andrić.

[PTY]

Title Sequence for THE GENTLEMEN BASTARDS Show                  By John DeNardo |                   Wednesday, June 5th, 2013                  at                  12:18 am                                                     

If ever you need a reminder about why fans rule, here's one: a fan-made opening title sequence for Scott Lynch's Gentlemen Bastards novels.

The Gentlemen Bastards Title Sequence from Milena Aijala on Vimeo.

[Nice job, Melina!]


http://vimeo.com/67591566#at=0

[PTY]

NEW RELEASE INTERVIEW: THE REPUBLIC OF THIEVES BY SCOTT LYNCH

[neomedjeni]

Moram priznati da nakon poslednjih redaka Crvenog mora i one nesrećne priče o protivotrovu, s nestrpljenjem očekujem da Laguna prevede Republiku lopova. Linč bi učinio malo podnošljivijim čekanje na nove Rotfusove i Martinove knjige.

[zakk]

Nije to Republika lopova, majkumu, to je Lopovska država!!!!1

[neomedjeni]

Ne, radnja knjige se ipak ne odigrava u Srbiji.

[Grimjack]

Book Trailer for Scott Lynch's The Republic of Thieves

[Grimjack]

A evo i šta Patrik Rotfus ima da kaže o Gospodstvenom nitkovu:

"Back when I was first published, people made a lot of comparisons between me and Scott Lynch.

The sentiment was mostly along the lines of "Pat Rothfuss is the next Scott Lynch!"

Here's the thing, Lies of Lock Lamora had come out almost exactly a year before my first book, The Name of the Wind. It was Scott's first book, the first in a fantasy series. The world was gritty and real, and it had knocked everyone over with how good it was.

So I knew it was a flattering comparison, but at the time, I was kinda irked by it. I remember thinking, "Why do I have to be the next Scott Lynch? Why can't I just be the first Pat Rothfuss? I'll probably be a lot better at that, I've got way more experience at it if nothing else...."

Years later I finally got around to reading Lies and enjoyed it. I saw that it was a clever book, and gritty, with a cool world. And there was an orphan boy in it who was a witty, mouthy thief. A while after that, I met Scott and really liked him as well. So I let go of what little residual irritation I had, not that there was very much...

Fast forward to now. This last week I started re-reading Lies, and I was absolutely fucking *stunned* by how good it is. The construction of it. The language. The world. The cleverness. The wit.

There is nothing I don't like in this book. Seriously. Okay. Fine. One tiny *tiny* quibble.

Even so, do you know how rare it is for me to say that? Right now, in the full flush of this second reading, I think Lies is probably in e in my top ten favorite books ever. Maybe my top five.

It's not really fair to compare the two books. They're different styles. Different subjects. Different worlds.

That said, here's the things that The Lies of Locke Lamora does better than The Name of the Wind.

1. The beginning of his book is stronger than mine.

Seriously. 50 pages into my book, you'll have reached the point where someone is starting to actually tell a story.

50 pages into Lies, you know the main character and are halfway into a fucking heist.

2. His title is better than mine.

Don't get me wrong. The Name of the Wind is a good title, it's the *right* title for my book. But "The Lies of Lock Lamora" that's a faboo title right there.

And his series title is better than mine too. "Gentleman Bastard" beats "Kingkiller Chronicles" hands-down.

3. His cussing is better than mine.

Not in real life. In real life I cuss like a sailor. But the language in my books is pretty genteel and tame.

In Lies, Lynch's low-life street thugs are vulgarian virtuosos. This might seem like a little thing, but it's not. It builds the world. It shows character. It helps make the story feel truly, perfectly grubby and real.

Here it is in a nutshell: When I was first published, I was irritated when people compared me to Scott Lynch. Only now do I realize how huge a compliment I was being given.

If you haven't read it, you should. If you have read it, you should probably read it again...."

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/99607064

[PTY]

Bogami, to jest najpreciznije i najpoštenije odmeravanje dotičnih naslova. Super što dolazi upravo iz Rotfusovog pera, ovaj rivju mi za ceo inč podigao rispekt za obojicu. Lepo. 

[Grimjack]

Scott Lynch: Lies, Larceny, and Locke Lamora

[PTY]

 

Izgleda da ovo dvoje fino ide zajedno:

Scott Lynch tackles something in Republic of Thieves that falls flat on its face. Politics.  This doesn't mean the novel fails. It's actually a wonderful addition to a series that continues to excel with Lynch's unique voice and kinetic narratives. Where Republic of Thieves falls short, MJ Locke's Up Against It knocks it out of the park with the best portrayal of authentic politics I've found in the speculative genres.
At its roots, Up Against It is an asteroid colony disaster movie. When an accident occurs, destroying precious ice reserves, the entire colony is at risk if they can't replenish it. Phocaea's resource manager, Jane, is tasked with making that happen, while keeping the colony's residents from tearing each other, and the government, apart. Add to that Mars' mafia trying to move in, a group of teenage kids caught in the middle, a rogue AI coming to life, social structures based on internet popularity, and ubiquitous cameras beaming reality TV back to Earth. Simple right? Continue Reading...

[PTY]

Writing Excuses 8.47: Roguishness with Scott Lynch

[ridiculus]

Možda priča o snalažljivom siročetu koje još nema ni sreće u ljubavi prosto više pogađa neke ženske žice?  I možda se muškarcima ne sviđa upravo zato što je lik skroz napravljen da se dopadne ženama.

Ne znam za "muškarce", ali meni lično je upravo Lynch zanimljiviji od drugih modernih žanrovskih pisaca koje je Nightflier naveo, i kao pisac i kao ličnost (mada, iskreno, znam malo o biografijama ovih drugih). Drugo, meni je Dikens jedan od omiljenih pisaca svih vremena, a njegov uticaj svakako postoji. Treće, meni je Final Fantasy VI jedna od omiljenih video-igara svih vremena, a njena inspiracija se svakako oseća u svetu Terina i Vadrana. Sviđa mi se struktura (prve knjige, koju sam jedino i čitao), nalik na hronološki izmešane činove drame. Sviđa mi se zaplet, pun zavera, skrivenih identiteta i neotkrivenih misterija zakopane prošlosti.

Stav da je Lynch "izdavačka izmišljotina" nisam video potvrđen gotovo nigde (osim možda u jednom prikazu na sajtu Strange Horizons), a velikoj većini "kritičara", blogera ili žanrovskih posmatrača serijal se u principu dopada, a pojedini delovi se čak mogu nazvati majstorskima. Jared sa Pornokitscha (britanski blog koji povremeno pratim) svrstava Republiku lopova među najbolje žanrovske knjige 2013, a on nema nikakvog interesa u promovisanju nekog tamo izmišljenog američkog pisca. Lynch je vrlo aktivan u fandomu - upravo je bio na londonskom Worldconu, kao sudija na jednoj tribini. Na glasanjima na redditu njegove knjige su uvek među prvih deset (a i uže) u okviru žanra. Ne bih to mogao da nazovem onim imenom sa početka pasusa, čak i da nemam lične preference za njegovu prozu.