Memories of Ice

Memories of Ice, the third volume of The Malazan Book of the Fallen series, written by Steven Erikson, further expands the scope of the main story: if the narrative is not as careful as before in relation to exposition, it makes up for it with the complexity of its storylines and character arcs.

The story of Memories of Ice returns to the main characters of Gardens of the Moon at the end of the military campaign in the city of Darujhistan. However, this time Sargent Whiskeyjack and the Malazan army must ally with their longtime foes, led by Caladan Brood and Anomander Rake, to overcome a menace to all: the advance of the Holy War perpetrated by the Panion Domin, a religious sect led by a mysterious oracle.

The Pannion Domin is one of the most interesting elements in the book, composed of terrifying individuals called Tenescowri: an immensity of cannibals who feed on their victims and worship women who rape fallen soldiers in battle. The war scenes involving the Tenescowri are very heavy in tone, containing visceral descriptions of certain attacks. Erikson, however, shows a commitment to not make the army one-dimensional, by contrasting the way the group acts with how it is mentioned by the characters or the narrator: although the Tenescowri basically functions as a zombie horde, they are constantly referred to as “a mass of humanity” in the descriptions, for example.

There is a pattern in the composition of most of the villains in Memories of Ice: they are always individuals whose moral character is heavily influenced by external forces. It’s not the case that they are corrupted by society, but only because its influence is so oppressive and strong that it never gave them a chance to be good in the first place. The concept attributed to the villains is one of fatalism: they could not have taken any role other than a villain with everything that has happened to them. In addition, the antagonists are also aware of the horrors they perpetrate, being terrified by their own actions. Erikson works with the idea that no one sees themselves as a villain, but the few who do have their souls rent and broken in the process.

Memories of Ice is packed with reflections on human nature, and if Deadhouse Gates was essentially pessimistic, here the message reflects much more of what there is of best in humanity. One of the essential terms in the narrative, for example, is compassion. It’s an idea and attitude that becomes directly related to several characters in the book and composes the bedrock of the journey of a mercenary named Itkovian – which reaches its climax with a speech that is beautiful in its message and tragic in its subtext, as it’s based on the assumption that its core idea is rarely understood by people.

The novel is structured around two major battle scenes: the sieges of the cities of Capustan and Coral. The narrative accompanies the preparations for each one, introducing and developing new characters, as well as setting up and resolving the conflicts for each main event.

In the city of Capustan, for example, the reader is introduced to the Gray Swords, a group of mercenaries devoted to the god of war Fener, who stand out for their rigid hierarchy and for their unwavering loyalty to their patron. Opposing them, there is the local council, composed of masked priests. Erikson establishes a fascinating contrast between these two forces by subverting expectations: both want to protect the city, but it is the mercenaries rather than the priests that most resemble the will of their gods. The Masked Council consists of priests that represent the entity that is symbolized in their masks. These objects, however, function as a ruse, making people believe that they serve the divine, when in fact they are only concerned with their own interests. By establishing these conflicting relationships, Erikson increases the tension for the impending attack. While the Gray Swords see no hope of winning the battle, but are too loyal to flee the city, and the Council makes things much harder than they should be, the Tenescowri cares little about anything, marching swiftly to devour everyone.

Memories of Ice amazes with its scope, which is achieved not only by the enormous scale of the battles but also by the wide range of complex characters and themes at play. One of the most constant discussions in the book, for example, is the question of motherhood. The main figures of the prologue are mothers, an image that is later represented by the characters of Mhybe and the Matron. Mhybe is the mother of a special child who consumes her life as she grows, and her character arc functions as a metaphor for the physical and emotional exhaustion caused by motherhood. For her, being a mother not only deprives her of her autonomy and youth, but of all her life. She feels robbed, drained by her daughter, and her frustration is constantly expressed by her (“She has stolen my life!”), although Mhybe’s love for her child is unquestionable. Her biggest problem, however, is that she believes she was abandoned by her child, who appears to put her aside now that they’re grown up and no longer need her. The message is that there are few pains greater than being ignored by your children just as you get older and need more of them in return: the feeling is none other than betrayal. The Matron represents even greater suffering – the loss of your child to death – and her pain and madness surpasses even that of Mhybe.

Another recurring theme in the narrative is the drama involving the T’lan Imass – a race of immortal warriors that swore eternal revenge against another race. They appear as frightening creatures made of bones, but now and then bear a sad countenance, because of the regret regarding the fate to which they have condemned themselves. It is Whiskeyjack who best explains the reason for the T’lan Imass’ pain, when he argues that war, contrary to popular belief, is not a natural state of the individual: hate speech, therefore, can only erode the soul of the one who utters it.

Going into more personal character arcs, Ganoes Paran stands out for the same reason he did in Gardens of the Moon: his frustration for his impotence in the face of the gods continues to grow. However, it is the moment when he thinks about his family that contains his best consideration in the book. The movement of the sentence – which goes from heroism to villainy – echoes the events and character development related to his family in Deadhouse Gates while suggesting a tragic end for those involved: “The Children of my parents are, one and all, capable of virtually anything. We can survive. Perhaps we lack a normal conscience, perhaps we are monsters in truth.”

Comic relief, in turn, comes back with the presence of Kruppe and his lines consisting of contradictory keywords (“Innumerable suggestions of a specific nature, Sir Warlord. So many that, when combined, they can only be seen or understood in the most general terms!”). However, Memories of Ice differs from its predecessors by not relying solely on comic relief to create humor. Yes, now and then Kruppe will make a table fly during a discussion, but, in many cases, the humor comes from serious characters being caught up in absurd situations, such as the instant in which Quick Ben confesses to Whiskeyjack that he has sacrificed a goat, or the one in which he tries to chat amicably with a necromancer shortly after causing an explosion on the guy’s house. In addition, the Bridgeburners plotline features several lighter moments in which they discuss random funny things, such as the possible love interest of a bull that appears to be following them.

Erikson also deserves praise for never getting lost in the immensity of the storylines, always preparing countless clues and rewards for the most attentive readers. Some are more subtle, like the wound of a Pannion Domin’s General, but others not so much, as the wound of Whiskeyjack.

Incidentally, Memories of Ice presents an interesting discussion about trust. The novel is structured in such a way that a good part of the conflicts between the main characters come precisely from the suspicion between them. However, this mistrust is condemned by the narrative, which exposes it as being, if understandable at times, very foolish in the end, nonetheless. After all, just as war is not a natural state of the human being, the narrative portrays that betrayal isn’t one either. Optimistic in nature, the story proposes that waiting to be betrayed is a disastrous stance to take, harmful to one’s own soul, which becomes corrupted by fear. It is precisely for this reason that betrayal is such an unforgivable act, for its mere existence breaks the implicit covenant established by the natural order of social relations: “There can be no true rendition of betrayal for the moment hides within itself, sudden, delivering such comprehension that one would surrender his or her soul to deny all that has come to pass.”

It is a shame, therefore, to attest that it is in this volume that Erikson least relies on the reader’s ability to understand what is happening. If Garden of the Moon could be at times excessive in its obscurity, but ultimately managed to strike the perfect balance between exposition and pacing, Memories of Ice actually surpasses even Esslemont’s Night of Knives, delivering countless infodumps to the reader. The scene in which Whiskeyjack and his commander openly discuss their schemes in detail is uncharacteristic of Erikson, but unfortunately common in Memories of Ice. Here, characters often reveal their intentions or that of others, openly explain the meaning of events that are of little importance to them, and even use nonessential appositives, such as in “And that includes my father, Draconus”: since the interlocutor in that conversation already knew who the speaker’s father was and needed not to be reminded of it, the name is there just to remind the reader. The book even features a flashback for a character to explain things about their past, a device never before used in the series, if I’m not mistaken.

Finally, it’s important to note that this book reveals a macrostructural problem of the whole series: the main antagonist is shown only here, leaving the first two volumes somewhat disconnected from the rest of the main story.

It is certain, however, that Memories of Ice maintains the standard of excellence of Steven Erikson’s fantasy series, achieving the feat of impressing the reader even more with the scale and complexity of the stories told.

December 17, 2018.

Originally published in Portuguese on August 22, 2016.