This melodrama extends to the plot and dialogue as well. Similarly, while I find Fane’s personality plenty believable, she also tends to be melodramatic at the best of times. Morg’s refrain of 'bitch, slut, treacherous whore,' as he continues to obsess over Barl, definitely reminds us of how twisted he has become, but it also gets old after the tenth time. There is nothing subtle about them, and their performances tend to be repetitive. Miller’s villains tend to be over-the-top and moustache twirling.

No, I think my issue is with the portrayal of the antagonists, from Morg/Durm to the pint-sized pest in Fane to the blithering Jarralt. Plenty of her characters change and reveal different sides throughout the book-Asher and Gar are the two most notable examples, but even the minor characters like Darran get moments of lucid two-dimensionality. At first I wanted to call it 'one-note', but that isn’t accurate.

There is something about Miller’s characterization that distracts me. I kept waiting for Asher’s fairy godmother to remind him that he has to leave the ball before the stroke of midnight.īefore I talk about problems with prophecy, however, I’d like to continue talking about character. However, reaching that stage requires one first not to roll one’s eyes too much at the cliched crutch of prophecy jumping up Asher from fisherman to prince’s assistant. And it’s nice to watch Asher mellow (a little) over the course of the book. I applaud her willingness to write characters that readers have little choice but to dislike. First Hekat (who, really, is a type of distilled evil) from Hammer of God, then Barl (who is more annoying than evil), and now Asher. It’s actually remarkable, this penchant Miller has for unlikable main characters. Then again, Miller goes out of the way to make Asher into an arrogant prickly pear of a jumped-up peasant, so why should we care about what happens to him? Good for the kingdom, not so much for him. Turns out this is part of a prophecy, though (not a spoiler, it’s like in the second chapter) in which Asher is going to save Lur from the destruction of its magical barrier, but probably at the cost of his life. While there is plenty to enjoy about the slow-simmer of worldbuilding in which Miller engages here, some of the same decisions that make Miller’s world of Lur so interesting also make for a duller read.Īsher, a lowly fisherman, stumbles his way into the employ of Prince Gar (whose name either sounds like a Klingon or someone trying to clear their throat of phlegm-take your pick). Karen Miller dangles the potential for magic like a carrot before whacking the reader with the stick of scenery-chewing dialogue. For a book called The Innocent Mage, set in a land protected by a magical barrier, where the practising of magic is a capital offense for the Olken and a birthright for the Doranen, not a lot of magic actually happens in this book.

The innocent mage