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antishurtugal_rebornWarning: This post will contain discussion of the book as a whole, including its various gross or problematic elements.
MG: Well, everyone, it is time at long last to wrap up our journey through Elminster: The Making of a Mage! Last time *deep breath* Elminster killed Belaur, took the throne, gave the throne away to Helm, fought and killed Undarl (but you have to read a bunch of other books and articles to learn what and who Undarl really was), learned Myrjala was Mystra, they had public midair sex, and Elminster became Mystra’s Chosen. *wipes forehead* Oof! Today, we wrap up some last loose ends and get a sequel hook. *flatly* Yay. As the epilogue is so short, I’ll not be bringing Keeri and Mira in for it and will be handling it myself – thank you for all your help, ladies! Once we’re done with that, we’ll take a brief look at the book’s short blurb (which is, IMO, very misleading) and then get into my final thoughts. Onward!
Epilogue
MG: And so, we open our epilogue with one last quote, this one from Tharghin “Threeboots” Ammatar in Sayings of a Most Worthy Sage. And okay, for one, I do not want to know what part of this guy’s body he’s wearing his third boot on, and for another, if you have to call yourself a “most worthy sage,” you’re probably not as worthy or as sagacious as you think you are. There are no endings save death, only pauses for breath, and new beginnings. Always, new beginnings… it’s why the world grows ever more crowded, ye see. So remember now – there are no endings, only beginnings. There; simple enough, isn’t it? Elegant, too. Ugh, okay, one, it’s kind of weird to use death as the only thing that’s apparently an ending… in a setting where the afterlife (scratch that, multiple afterlives) is something confirmed that exists, in addition to various forms of resurrection magic. And this really can’t help but sound like a clunkier version of the “there is neither beginning or end” spiel that shows up at least once in every Wheel of Time book (especially since Greenwood was writing this in the early nineties, when WoT was the big thing in epic fantasy…). But I guess as confirmation that this isn’t the end of Elminster’s adventures, it gets the job done.
The epilogue proper opens with Elminster drifting back to consciousness to find himself lying on a stone slab, still naked and smoke rising from his limbs. Maybe that’s just a side-effect of the Chosen-ing process (though, again, other works indicate that you can be Chosen by a god without knowing it, so the effects probably aren’t always this dramatic…) though it kind of also seems like an indicator that having sex with Mystra is less like sex with a person and more like surviving a natural disaster. As the smoke clears, Elminster sees that his body is physically unchanged, and Mystra is standing over him, nude and magnificent because of course she is. He thanks her and tells her that he hopes to serve her well; she says that others have said that before and some have even believed it. Which is interesting because it implies that Mystra has had other Chosen before, some of whom have let her down – but I’m pretty sure Elminster was Mystra’s first Chosen (unless you count Azuth, the first magister) and that’s part of why he’s so important to her (her predecessor, Mystryl, had at least one Chosen, Larloch… but Mystra and Mystryl aren’t exactly the same person) and the most notorious renegade Chosen of Mystra is Sammaster, founder of the Cult of the Dragon, who hasn’t been born yet. Maybe she’s just speaking more generally? Or talking about failed candidates who ended up not making the cut? But Mystra goes on to explain that she believes in Elminster; she first noticed him when Undarl destroyed Heldon and she felt the Lion Sword’s magic destroyed, and Elminster’s vow of vengeance on the magelords brought him specifically to her attention. She saw him as a man of great wits and inner kindness and strength, who might grow to be mighty. So, she continued to watch him quietly until he came to her temple, when she confronted him directly, and after seeing that he had the courage to stand up to her and debate her she decided that this Elminster could become the greatest mage the world had ever known, if I only led him and let him grow. Which… isn’t making it seem less like you decided to just groom Elminster into being your perfect boyfriend there, Mystra.
Also, it has to be said, but… Elminster is not the greatest mage Faerun has ever known (the most famous, probably, both in and out of universe, but not the most powerful). “Who is the greatest mortal mage to ever walk Faerun?” is a question that has a very clear canonical answer - Karsus. Karsus, the last and greatest ruler of Netheril who, in his pride and desperation to win Netheril’s war with the Phaerimm, devised a spell to steal the power of the gods for himself, starting with Mystryl. It worked… but Karsus couldn’t control the power he stole, and the ensuing magical cataclysm destroyed Netheril (whose core territories afterwards became the desert of Anauroch) and did serious damage to the world at large (Karsus himself died when his powers rebounded on him and turned him to stone, his last thoughts the knowledge that he had doomed everyone and everything he ever loved). Mystra, the daughter/successor/reincarnation of Mystryl, who came into being after Karsus’s death and his stolen godhead reverted to its natural state and combined with a peasant girl with latent magical abilities, literally as the first thing she ever did rewrote the entire magic system (including locking out or heavily restricting whole levels of spellcasting) to keep anyone from becoming as powerful as Karsus ever again. She, of all people, should know that being the most powerful mage who ever lived isn’t a good thing! (Also, fun fact – Karse, where Karsus’s stone corpse impacted Faerun after falling from the heavens, is in the High Forest not far from Athalantar – that might have been a place worth having Elminster visit during this book as a reminder of the price of reckless, unchecked magical power and ambition, Greenwood). And Karsus’s legacy does show up in the third Elminster prequel (The Temptation of Elminster), so it’s not like Greenwood’s just ignoring him, either. But even if you just mean “the greatest mage since Netheril” it still doesn’t work – Greenwood himself will freely admit that there are two wizards who definitely could and would best Elminster in a straight-up magical confrontation – Larloch and Halaster. Guess what? They’re both older than Elminster and therefore already around by this point in history. So, yeah. This is Greenwood and/or Mystra literally ignoring the setting’s lore to talk Elminster up. Maybe I’m reading too much into an off-the-cuff line, but a., it’s Greenwood’s favorite deity speaking, so he probably intends us to take it at face value, and b., I’ve sporked four books with Elminster in them by now (and am about to start a fifth), I’m not inclined to cut him any slack.
Further reinforcing this is that Mystra tells Elminster that El, lovely man, you have delighted me and surprised me and pleased me beyond all my hopes and expectations. And since her hopes and expectations were, explicitly, for him to become the greatest mage in Faerun… yeah. And so, they stare into each other’s eyes and Elminster knew that he’d never forget that calm, deep gaze of infinite wildness and love and wisdom however many years might lie ahead. Mystra kisses Elminster again, and he smells her strange, spicy scent and then she tells him that she’s sending him to the elven realm of Cormanthor to learn the rudiments of magic. Elminster’s taken aback by this, since he thought he’d been doing that already and, yeah, me too. I’m not sure exactly how powerful Elminster is at this moment, but considering how easily he bested Ithboltar and held his own against Ilhundyl (even if Mystra herself got that kill), I’d say he’s easily at archmage tier already. Mystra is amused that Elminster dares speak to her that way, and admits she loves him for it, but explains that he has power but without discipline or true feeling for the forces you’re crafting. Apparently, the elves can teach him that, and he’ll also be needed in Cormanthor for some reason very soon, so she tells him to go to the city and apprentice himself to any archmage he can find there. She can guide him there, but first, she wants him to stay with her for one night more, to talk, since even gods get lonely. Elminster promises he’ll stay awake as long as he can, and she tells him that as one of her Chosen, he’ll never need to sleep again. She then conjures a bottle and offers it to him. Blue lethe… from certain tombs in Netheril. Uh, okay, am I the only one who absolutely would not drink anything buried with a Netherese archwizard? Especially something with the word “lethe” in the name… Elminster wants to learn more about it, and Mystra laughs; it was a sound he treasured often in the long years that followed…
And so, we end the book with yet another quote, this one an obvious sequel hook. Thus it was that Elminster was guided to Cormanthor, the Towers of Song, where Eltargrim was Coronal. There he dwelt for twelve summers and more, studying with many mighty mages, learning to feel magic and know how it could be bent and directed to his will. His true powers he revealed to few – but it is recorded that when the Mythal was laid, and Cormanthor became Myth Drannor, Elminster was one of those who devised and spun that mighty magic. So the long tale of the doings of Elminster Farwalker began. All of this is apparently from The High History of the Faerunian Archamges Mighty. And, ah, so nice of Greenwood to succinctly summarize the whole basic plot of the sequel at the end of this book, isn’t it? In point of fact, it’s literally also the blurb for Elminster in Myth Drannor, too (aside from the last sentence and attribution, at least)! Yes, really. Also, Elminster has many titles and epithets, but outside of this book I don’t think “Farwalker” is usually one of them (he’s most often the Old Mage, Old Sage, or Sage of Shadowdale). But, in any case, on that note Elminster: The Making of a Mage comes to its end. *beat* Yay!
Blurb
Anyway, before moving on to my final thoughts, I wanted to go ahead and briefly cover this book’s blurb, which is thankfully short. In ancient days, sorcerers sought to learn the One True Spell that would give them power over all the world and understanding of all magic. The One True Spell was a woman, and her name was Mystra—and her kisses were wonderful. To start off with, we should all recognize this one as one of the epigraphs from the book itself. …and, of course it’s the one about what a great lover Mystra is. Methinks that says something about Greenwood’s priorities… It is the time before Myth Drannor, when the Heartlands are home to barbarians, and wicked dragons rule the skies. Okay, “before Myth Drannor” is true enough (technically the city already exists, but not by that name; we’ll actually get to see the name change in the sequel to this book). Unfortunately, the rest of it is… kind of irrelevant. Most obviously, none of this book takes place in the Heartlands! The Heartlands is the region of central Faerun around the Sea of Fallen Stars. Athalantar, our primary setting, is in northwest Faerun, near the Sword Coast and a short way inland from where Waterdeep is going to be located. We also take a few jaunts to the Calishar, which is much further south, around where Amn and Tethyr will end up being in the setting’s present – which is still on the Sword Coast, and still not in the Heartlands. Barbarians and dragons ruling the Heartlands would be more relevant to the origin story of the kingdom of Cormyr (as told in the Cormyr Saga series, which Greenwood contributed to but didn’t write by himself) which is in the Heartlands and does have an antagonistic history with wicked dragons (one in particular).
In these ancient days, Elminster is but a shepherd boy, dreaming of adventure and heroics. But when a dragon-riding magelord sweeps down upon him, the boy is thrust into a world of harsh realities, corrupt rulers, and evil sorcerers. Again, all of that is true enough… but I do think it’s interesting that it leaves out Elminster’s secret royal heritage. Makes it sound like Greenwood (or whoever wrote the blurb) really wanted to emphasize the “farmboy hero” angle. With patience and grit, Elminster sets about to change all that. The result of his labors is a world reborn—and a mage made. And that… dear gods, is that over the top! A world reborn, seriously? Elminster overthrew a bunch of tinpot dictators in one tiny country – I’m sure the people of Athalantar were grateful for that, but the impact on the rest of the world was pretty much nil, and Athalantar itself would become barely a footnote in Faerunian history, mostly remembered, when it’s remembered at all, because Elminster himself was born there. Again, it just really makes it sound like whoever wrote the blurb really wanted to make the book sound much grander and more epic than it actually is. And… that’s it for the blurb. And while most of it’s technically accurate, I think some of the phrasing gives a very distorted view of what the book actually is, and so I wanted to share it before we wrap things up.
That said, it’s hardly the worst blurb I’ve ever read for a Realms novel; most of the early 2000s blurbs in particular seemed to be written by people who’d barely glanced at a summary of the book in question. The blurb for The Magehound (the first Counselors and Kings book) somehow manages to get every detail about the plot save for the name and occupation of the main character (while ignoring that he’s not the only main character, and arguably not the most important) and the fact that he lives in a country called Halruaa wrong; impressive! But I digress.
Final Thoughts
And so, we come to the end. After all is said and done, what did I really think of Elminster: The Making of a Mage? As per usual for my Final Thoughts posts, I’ll be breaking it down into individual sections and then giving my ultimate verdict on the whole, so strap in, because we have some things to discuss!
Characters
Elminster/Elmara Aumar: Ah, Elminster. One of the most iconic (and infamous) characters in all the Forgotten Realms, the central protagonist of this book, which tells the story of his development from simple farmboy/son of a disenfranchised prince to mighty wizard. And the fact of the matter is… just by reading this book, I feel like I still don’t have much of a handle on who the young Elminster is. Part of it is the basic plotline Greenwood gives him is pretty generic – young person discovers his secret heritage, goes on a journey to acquire magical powers, confronts the force of evil and claims his birthright. But that by itself isn’t the problem, since other authors have taken the basic hero’s journey and made it work for them. A bigger issue for me is the timeskips, and the fact that most of Elminster’s character development takes place during them. Elminster starts off the book, after Undarl kills his family, hating magic and wanting nothing to do with it. The crux of his character development focuses therefore on learning that magic can be a tool for good, and then learning to use it himself. Again, fair enough – except Greenwood squeezes in most of that development off-page so that it feels unearned and underdeveloped. Seriously, Elminster learning his first spells and learning to love magic with Braer happens entirely between chapters eight and nine, and then further training under Myrjala to become a truly powerful wizard is skimmed over remarkably quickly at the beginning of chapter fourteen. And as such the chance to really watch Elminster learn and grow… is glossed over entirely.
The crux of Elminster’s character development that we do see involves his relationship with Mystra. And, well, it’s very telling that the part Greenwood chooses to focus on is how his creator’s pet gets a goddess for a lover. But even that feels undercooked to me because Mystra has singled out Elminster from the beginning of the story and he spends most of it walking the path she wants him to, that inevitably leads him to her (more on that in a moment). So, it ends up contributing to the idea that Elminster, rather than being a character with agency in his own right, is just walking the path Mystra and/or Greenwood has set for him, checking off the points they want him to have on a list but without them feeling to link together into a cohesive arc. The end result feels very disjointed, to say nothing of the wasted potential.
And, last of all, it’s time to talk about the elephant in the room – Elmara. I don’t know what Greenwood’s thought process behind including this subplot was, but it’s clear to me he bit off far, far more than he was able or willing to chew. The weirdest thing about the Elmara plotline is how utterly shallow and pointless it feels for something that, however you play it, should be a very big deal for Elminster to go through! But, at the end of the day, it barely feels like it matters. It doesn’t feel convincing as trans wish fulfilment – Elminster experiences no joy or euphoria at becoming Elmara, nor any sort of revelation at exploring a side of themselves that had previously been repressed. Neither does Elminster react with the sort of horror or dysphoria one would expect for a man who suddenly wakes up in a woman’s body – Elmara is briefly shocked, then more-or-less shrugs it off and the transformation becomes a complete non-issue until it’s reserved. While there’s definitely some gratuitous male gaze involved in Elmara’s description and some of the things she experiences – it is Greenwood writing, after all – it’s not nearly as much as I’d expect if it was purely an authorial fetish thing (though if someone told me Greenwood has a lot of more explicit materials related to this subplot stashed away somewhere… I wouldn’t be surprised). Elminster gets no major character development out of the experience – he learns nothing about himself from it, and if he learned to respect women more, he damned well doesn’t show it! There’s not any real exploration of gender in society, different expectations and treatment of men and women, or misogyny either (aside from that brief, inexplicable scene where Elmara almost gets raped, which is forgotten as soon as it’s completed). Even Elminster’s lack of reaction could be played for character development, but Greenwood doesn’t even seem to realize that. From a pure plot perspective, it adds nothing – the transformation seems to fail outright at one of its stated goals (to provide a new identity to hide Elminster from the magelords, considering how Undarl is still able to find him effortlessly, and Briost also recognizes him), and the transformation is imposed by Mystra, and then reversed by Elmara just happening to find a gender spell, with no real journey or though line connecting those two points. In the end, the reader is left with the impression that not only does Greenwood not do anything of substance with this plotline, but that he doesn’t even realize there are things of substance one can do with such a plotline. Which just makes me all the more certain that if he’s not willing to put in the work to handle it with the complexity and respect the issue deserves, he shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Ultimately, I think I have to agree with Sandra in the comments – Greenwood probably just wanted to write about an attractive woman doing things for a while and threw in the transformation without any further thought.
Mystra/ ”Myrjala”: Oof. Making of a Mage has a hard time keeping a supporting cast to begin with, but the closest thing to a deuteragonist it has is probably Myrjala, especially once she’s revealed to be Mystra. And, okay, to start off with, she initially seems like a female version of what Elminster will eventually become – an extremely powerful mage who considers herself a law unto herself, who does what she wants and acts as judge, jury and executioner when she feels like it, and is so powerful nobody can do anything about it. So, it’s not surprising she becomes Elminster’s teacher – and her subsequently becoming his lover isn’t surprising either, when you consider Greenwood’s proclivities (which doesn’t make it any less gross, imo). But the discovery that she’s really Mystra makes it worse – for one, since she’s not only a goddess but Elminster’s patron goddess, the power dynamic between the two is now thoroughly, irreparably lopsided. But worse is that Mystra’s been chessmastering Elminster’s life since his childhood, in various guises, which makes the whole thing even grosser. I don’t want to use terms like “grooming” lightly, but… in this particular circumstance, it feels very hard to avoid. I don’t object in general to gods romancing mortals, or to gods manipulating mortals’ lives towards their desired outcome… but I really don’t think those tropes should be combined. And Mystra in general feels like a combination of traits from the Fair Folk and gods after the classical mold – a powerful being beyond human morality, who toys with the lives of mortals for her own gratification and is impervious to any sort of judgment or reprisal. Which would be a fine characterization for a deity embodying a cosmic force as powerful and abstract as “magic” - except that Greenwood seems to actually want us to think she’s perfectly good and admirable. Though I am compelled to wonder if no one else on the Realms writing staff was as fond of her… after all, the Time of Troubles, the first major Realms storyline, involved this Mystra being killed off (permanently, unlike other gods such as Bane, Torm, and Myrkul who died at the same time but were later brought back, in some cases fairly quickly) and replaced with a successor who is explicitly a different person… it does make one think…
Undarl Dragonrider/Malaug(?): Making of a Mage has several main antagonists, but of them all, Undarl is probably the closest to an overall Big Bad, as the murderer of Elminster’s parents, the de jure leader and most dangerous of the magelords, and the final boss. As the antagonists go… he’s probably the least terrible. He’s actually got a meaningful, personal enmity (on Elminster’s end, at least) with our protagonist, he’s the only magelord who comes across as truly powerful and evil. On the other hand, his presentation has some serious problems. For one, while doing this spork I was fairly surprised to really see how little presence he has for most of the story. He really only appears four times – destroying Heldon at the beginning, his inexplicable appearance at Ondil’s tower, the magelord meeting in chapter twelve, and then the final battle in the last two chapters, and he’s never given a chance to show much personality beyond “generic evil wizard”. And while it’s certainly possible to establish a villain as maintaining a presence in the story without appearing physically (Sauron from LotR being my go-to example, but he’s hardly the only one in modern fantasy) Greenwood doesn’t really have the skill to pull it off. And while Undarl is genuinely more powerful than most of the other magelords… it mostly means that, rather than dying instantly when opposed, he gets to survive having his ass kicked in immediate succession no less than three times in two chapters before he finally dies. Yay. And, of course, as we’ve already been over, the revelation of his true identity is really awkwardly handled, forcing the reader to read articles and sourcebooks that weren’t even out yet to understand what was really going on with him (and if he is Malaug, he should be a lot more powerful than he comes off as here). Basically, Undarl is the best villain in the book – but that’s not saying very much.
Ithboltar and Other Magelords: Doing them together, because frankly there’s not a lot to distinguish them. Ithboltar is one of the book’s other main antagonists, as the de facto leader of most of the magelords, despite his limited page time. And, well, he’s terrible at it. He shows up far too late in the book (with only very limited foreshadowing beforehand) to feel like he matters and accomplishes nothing of note while he’s there before dying anticlimactically. The Villains’ Lorebook and the “Athalantan Campaign” article describe how he was the original master of most of the magelords, and worked to maintain his role as a confidant, advisor and mentor to the rest of them, so that even when he wasn’t officially in charge, they always followed his lead (even without using his crown to dominate them and enforce it). Ithboltar as portrayed in the book accomplishes exactly none of that, with the other magelords blowing him off and outright calling him senile, and Elminster kills him off effortlessly as soon as he confronts him directly.
The rest of the magelords… well, I’d rank them as comparable to the Psychlos of Battlefield Earth for sheer “how did these bozos ever conquer anything?” factor, but I’ve started to think that might actually be unfair to the Psychlos. They are, for the most part, completely incompetent, dying in droves to their own stupidity (a tradition started by their initial leader, Hawklyn, all the way back in chapter five) and, by the end of the book, are even being killed by common soldiers with no effort. While a couple of them (Taraj, Seldinor) stand out as memorably evil, for the most part they just sort of blur together into one interchangeable smug asshole repeated over and over again, and though they’re definitely evil, their actual tyranny feels remarkably limp, less an iron hand over all of Athalantar and more individual magelords using their powers to bully individual people. Really, they come of less as an organized dictatorship and more like a bunch of loosely associated gangsters. Ultimately, I’m just sort of at a loss as to what Greenwood was trying to do with the magelords. They’re not really powerful or threatening on an individual level – even taking aside their abysmal track record, we’re repeatedly told what mediocre wizards they all are. But they’re not a commentary on institutional evil, either, since they barely have an institution – they’ve just parked themselves on top of Athalantar’s normal government and use their powers to brute force people’s obedience. Even though they’re foreign to Athalantar in origin, they’re not really presented as an occupying or colonizing force. They’re far too mundane to be convincing as great evils, but if they’re supposed to represent the banal evils of small-minded men with too much power using it to do what they want and abuse those they feel are below them, that gets muddied when Undarl, by far their most narratively prominent member and official leader in the back half of the book, actually does turn out to be a great and ancient evil! And the fun of having a bunch of squabbling main antagonists is entirely lost when they almost all, once again, act exactly the same. If these are supposed to be the villains who the great Elminster first made his reputation by defeating… count me very, very underwhelmed.
King Belaur Aumar: Yet another waste (noticing a pattern here?). Belaur gets talked up a fair bit in the first chapter, when we get our big infodump on the state of Athalantar, but then mostly vanishes from the story until chapter twelve, when we meet his minion Gartos and get a hint of friction between the two of them and the magelords… and then that goes nowhere. Finally, Greenwood seems to remember the guy in the last two chapters, and pulls him out at the end to be one of the book’s climactic bosses, even though it's not really supported by what the book’s been building to so far (a clash of wizards), and in the process loads him down with every evil king cliché in the book (including variation of fricking prima noctis) just to make sure we know he deserves to die. Other than that… there’s not a lot to say about the guy, although he technically qualifies as one of the main antagonists by default.
Ilhundyl “The Mad Mage”: The last of our main antagonists. Ilhundyl basically occupies the antagonist niche that I sometimes think of as the “Saruman” role (based more on book Saruman than movie Saruman, who is less independent of Sauron than his novel counterpart) – the supporting antagonist who’s mostly or wholly independent from the big bad, who is defeated by the protagonists partway through the story in the course of preparing to face the actual big bads. But at the same time… he feels like an antagonist from a different book altogether. For one, he undermines the threat of the magelords even further just by existing – after all, the first thing we ever learn about him is that he’s “stronger by far” than any of the magelords, but Elminster defeats him before returning to Athalantar to take the magelords on, which doesn’t help the tension at all. But even beyond that, his connection to the story is tenuous. Elmara seeks him out for poorly explained when she really ought to know better, he decides to user her and then kill her, the Magister intervenes for some inexplicable reason to stop him from doing that, and then years later Elminster decides to get revenge on him when it’s not even clear when Elminster learned Ilhundyl tried to kill him. It feels like several chapters establishing the characters’ enmity ended up missing. And while we’re told Ilhundyl is the ruler of the Calishar and a terrible mage-tyrant, we never see any of his domain outside of his castle, which makes that ring hollow. On the other hand, I will say that while he doesn’t really live up to his billing as one of the greatest wizards of his age, he still does a much better job of holding his own against Elminster than any other villain (ultimately requiring Myrjala – aka, Mystra herself – to intervene on his behalf), so he’s got that going for him, at least. Ultimately, I feel like this character had potential… but he definitely needed a different story to be the big bad of, and in this one he just ends up sort of out of place.
Helm Stoneblade: Helm is meant to be a hero of the common people, a former knight of King Uthgrael turned rebel against the magelords, one of Elminster’s first mentors and the man he ultimately gives the throne to. And… he kind of sucks at it. Upon meeting Elminster and learning he’s the last scion of the royal house he’s sworn to protect, instead of taking the kid under his wing, he… lets him wander off on his own with no idea of what he’s doing. His resistance against the magelords seems to be entirely ineffective, with nothing to show for it over the course of decades beyond some generic banditry. After the first Part, he vanishes from the book entirely until Elminster needs rebels to recruit in the last Part. And so, what should be a powerful moment – Elminster giving him the crown – falls entirely flat, because we’re given no idea as to why we should want this guy as our king.
Farl: Good grief, where to begin? Take a lovable rogue and subtract the “lovable,” and he’s what you get (not the first time Greenwood has done this – see also Torm of the Knights of Myth Drannor and, for an older version, Mirt). He’s supposed to be the charming thief, Elminster’s best friend, and plucky underdog in a corrupt city, but really he just comes off as a kleptomaniac creep with zero concern for how his actions affect everyone else. And that’s not getting into his misogyny – a creepy voyeur who regularly objectifies women and whose treatment of Shandathe is as abominable as it is inexplicable (the fact that it ended happily is no excuse, since he had no way of knowing that would happen). Not helping any of this is how the idea of him being Neldryn Hawklyn’s bastard son, and the chance to use it to give him some complexity, is completely squandered, as Hawklyn is killed immediately after the idea is introduced and it’s subsequently never relevant again. The good news is that he’s only a major character in the second and last Parts – and the bad news is, that’s still two Parts too many.
Baerithryn “Braer”: Elminster’s first magical teacher. Braer is a recognizable archetype – the hermit guru who’s retreated from society to pursue wisdom, which he in turn passes on down to the young protagonist. Unfortunately, we skip over most of his teachings, which makes it hard to get a good sense of it. What we do see shows him prone to the cultural arrogance of D&D elves, and a sometimes-shocking lack of understanding of how his words and actions affect his student – but he’s also at least willing to swallow his pride and admit when he screwed up and then try and be better, which makes him unusual for both a D&D elf and a Greenwood protagonist. Unfortunately, he then goes and drops a dragon onto a populated city, which escapes causing mass civilian death only by pure authorial fiat.
The Magister: Why is this guy here? Seriously, he appears in only two scenes – one where he kills Hawklyn, which seems to foreshadow the man Elminster will eventually become, and then another as a deus ex machina to get Ilhundyl off Elmara’s back. And that’s it. After that, he leaves the story without an explanation, and we never get any sort of resolution with him at all. I can only assume Greenwood wanted to write about a massively powerful archamge kicking ass and couldn’t wait for Elminster to be old and experienced enough for the role – and when he was, the Magister got dropped like a hot potato. It’s almost enough to make me feel sorry for the bastard. Almost.
Setting
The more I read and spork Greenwood’s fiction, the more I’m left feeling that Ed Greenwood the worldbuilder and Ed Greenwood the novelist are somehow two different people – and they’re not on speaking terms. Greenwood’s reputation is as the man who created one of the largest, most detailed fictional worlds not just in D&D, but arguably in all of fiction – and yet Athalantar, the primary setting he chooses when telling the origin story of his signature character, is boring. Seriously, at its core Athalantar is one acme vaguely-Celtic/vaguely-Germanic fantasy kingdom, with castles and knights and peasants and thieves and a hidden royal heir… and nothing that makes it stand out. You’ve got the magelords, of course, but they’re about the least interesting way to write a magocracy I can think of. We have no social institutions built around wizards, no cultural mores based around the idea of wizards being in charge, no history of wizardly rule… just one group of wizards lording it over everyone else by brute force, their power extending only as far as the reach of their magic. They don’t even really run the government so much as just bully the government, from the king on down, into doing what they want. The contrast between some of the setting’s other magocracies, such as Thay, Halruaa or, in the past, Netheril, where wizards and their rule are integrated into society at every level, is striking. Greenwood would later write the “Athalantan Campaign” article for Dragon Magazine, fleshing the kingdom out some more for use as a game setting – but even so, I can’t imagine wanting to roleplay there, since everything about it is done better elsewhere in Faerun. Even when we leave Athalantar, it’s not much better. The High Forest is… a forest. Elves live there, but aside from Braer we only meet a few, and that only briefly. The countryside is mostly forgettable and feels no different outside of Athalantar than in it. And we see absolutely nothing of the Calishar outside of Ilhundyl’s castle. Especially jarring considering that part of what makes Faerun such a popular setting is its variety – while most of the major DND settings have a sort of “theme” (Dragonlance is Tolkienesque high fantasy, Eberron is postmodern dungeon punk, Dark Sun is postapocalyptic sword and sorcery, Ravenloft is gothic dark fantasy, etc.) with the Realms you can find somewhere to support pretty much any sort of fantasy story you want to tell. So, of course, for this book Greenwood gives us the most generic setting imaginable. Sigh. One thing I will say is that Greenwood does capture that this period has a different vibe from the setting’s present – Making of a Mage feels more stereotypically medieval/ “dark ages”, while present-day Faerun is more Renaissance. But that’s about as far as I’m willing to go.
On the subject of setting, though – does anyone have any more interesting magocracies they can think of to share? How about better handled revolts against tyrannical governments? I can think of a few myself, but I’m curious to see what other people think of.
Plot
As previously mentioned, the plot here is pretty basic hero’s journey material – Elminster has to learn to be a mage, so he can confront the evil wizards who took over his country, destroyed his home and killed his family. Straightforward enough. Unfortunately, I think Greenwood still has a hard time pulling it all together. As usual, he has a tendency to meander, and it works against him, with large chunks of the story adding nothing to Elminster’s journey. Almost all of the first Part (Elminster’s time as an outlaw) can be jettisoned entirely with zero impact on the plot, as can most of the second. Elmara’s adventure with the Brave Blades adds nothing, as the Blades are all immediately killed off before we get to know them and Ondil’s spellbook is proven to be a fake. Elmara’s first return to Athalantar is also pointless aside from meeting Myrjala, which could have been moved to literally anywhere; meanwhile, Elmara’s training with Myrjala, which actually is important, gets crammed into half a chapter. This continues a pattern that’s consistent across a lot of Greenwood’s works, where material that is important is often rushed or poorly set up, while material that isn’t important eats up far too much page time (did we really need multiple chapters of bad sex comedy?) and because Making of a Mage, unlike a lot of other Greenwood works (looking at you, Hand of Fire), actually does have a clear through line (Elminster learning magic and overthrowing the magelords), it’s even more obvious here. Also not helping is the book’s short length – the more time we spend farting around on irrelevant sideplots, the less time we have to spend on things like Elminster’s training or the actual battle with the magelords, and they end up suffering as a result, not carrying the weight they should.
Really, a lot of the plot just feels like checking off beats Greenwood wanted Elminster to hit across the course of his life, as indicated by the Part titles – first he’s an outlaw, then he’s a thief, then a priest, then a mage, then finally a rebel king. The problem is that while it may have been clear to Greenwood how each of these built on each other and contributed to the man Elminster would become, he doesn’t do a particularly good job of conveying that to the reader. In particular, as mentioned before, because so much of Elminster’s key character development is skimmed over, and what we do spend time on is often redundant (the line between the “priest” and “mage” portions of Elminster’s life in particular is very blurry – Elmara is supposedly a cleric, but aside from brief mentions of her praying to Mystra for spells or to be empowered, we see her casting arcane spells she’s learned and prepared out of spellbooks, therefore acting like a wizard and not a cleric). And speaking of the Elmara plotline in general… yeah, do something worthwhile with it, or lose it. And if Greenwood just can’t speak to transgender issues in a mature or thoughtful way – well, it was his choice to make that a major plotline in the first place, so he really shouldn’t have.
Tone and Theme
It feels worth addressing here, but this book’s tone is weird. Part of that comes back to the nature of the antagonists – defeating the magelords is supposed to be a big, serious undertaking, but at the same time the narrative undermines them at every turn, so it’s hard to really feel that. Greenwood likes to include lots of gory violence and elements of the seamy undersides of magic, adventuring and society in general, which based on his notes in the Shandril books and elsewhere seems to be an attempt to deconstruct more “sanitized” fantasy… but at the same time, you have characters casually cracking jokes and seeming completely unaffected in the middle of all this, and rather than dark humor as a coping mechanism it just makes it seem like they don’t care at all – which makes all of Greenwood’s characters feel like a bunch of psychopaths. The treatment of women is also… not good. Normally, Greenwood’s biggest problem in writing women is that he’s a massive voyeur who can’t resist having his female characters get naked at the drop of a hat or otherwise be extremely sexualized. And that’s definitely present here. But what’s really notable in this book is the lack of major female protagonists, aside from Myrjala (who isn’t a mortal woman) and Elmara (who goes back to being Elminster two-thirds of the way through and never looks back). The result is that we’re mostly left with women in bit parts, existing to be gawked and leered at, exploited or assaulted by the villains, or bizarrely taken advantage of by our alleged heroes (poor Shandathe!). And even Mystra, one of the most powerful deities on Toril, gets consistently described in terms of how hot and sexy she is. Not only is Greenwood’s writing sexist and sleazy, but it also just feels very immature, in the particular way of someone trying too hard to be mature and missing the mark, which is a consistent problem he’s never grown out of. Not helping on the gender front is the fact that the magelords are all men (except for a couple of apprentices kept around as eye candy more than anything) which just feels lazy on Greenwood’s part. And, I mean, making the main antagonist faction a club dominated by powerful, sleezy men could be effective if Greenwood was willing to devote time and energy to actually exploring the implications of that… but he doesn’t.
Thematically… well, I’m not really sure what this book is trying to say other than “magic is awesome and we should have more of it, and people who use it as a cheap crutch for personal power should have more respect for it and not do that” (which, when you’re talking about literal, D&D style spellcasting, isn’t the most applicable lesson to the real world). But, if we’re meant to be seeing how what the magelords do with magic is a perversion of what Mystra’s Art really is, there’s not a lot in the book that shows us that – especially since we skip over Elminster’s own learning to love magic! Not to mention that the main thing we see Elminster doing with his magic once he’s gotten it mostly seems to consist of wreaking destruction and killing his enemies – in other words, the exact same stuff the magelords get up to, just more effective at it and targeting different people! Elminster’s realization that just because he has royal blood doesn’t make him the best candidate for the throne is pretty good… but undermined by the fact that we’re not given much reason to see why Helm, the guy he gives the throne to, really is a better choice. “Magic shouldn’t be used to rule over people” seems like a consistent theme, but it’s kind of hypocritical considering that in the setting’s present, there are plenty of magocracies and Elminster is friends (or lovers) with various magical rulers, and neither he nor Mystra seem to have a problem with that. And while Elminster gives up his throne at the end, it seems less like he’s doing it because he’s decided mages shouldn’t rule people, and more that he’s realized he personally doesn’t want to be king, which is… less satisfying. Supposedly, Elminster learns wisdom and compassion across his journeys, but he never gets much chance to show it off, and his primary motivation across the whole book is personal revenge, with helping the common people being decidedly secondary (if only because the common people who aren’t Elminster’s friends have very little presence in the book to begin with). Unfortunately, If I went to this book looking for an answer to the question of “what makes a great mage?” I don’t think it really has one unless that answer is “the goddess of magic likes them.” Which, again, isn’t exactly applicable to most people’s lives.
How Would I Fix It?
In general, I’d say the core plot of Making of a Mage is perfectly serviceable, but hoo boy, does the execution have issues. So that’s what I’ll be focusing on when looking at how I’d improve things – I’ll be following the rough outline of the original book’s plot, while trying to streamline things and fix what I see as the worst problems. To start off, I think this book needed to be longer, significantly longer, or maybe even a series. Give the plot room to breathe, give us time to actually get to know the characters and get invested in them instead of racing through all the important stuff. I’d also lose the creepy male-gaze depictions of women, and have characters actually react appropriately to the violence instead of brushing it off. Moving to specifics:
First off, spend some time at Heldon before it’s destroyed; give us time to actually care about the place and Elthryn and Amrythale, so that Undarl’s attack actually feels meaningful. Also, establish the prophecy about the Aumar line and Athalantar from the beginning; leave it bubbling in the background for the whole book, as something that undergirds the entire political culture of Athalantar. Afterwards, have Elminster actually stay with Helm; not only does it make more sense narratively, but it gives us time to establish a connection between the two of them, cement Helm as someone noble who Elminster looks up to, and how even if he’s not made much headway overall, show how he’s been fighting the magelords and why the people consider him a hero (basically, all the legwork for establishing why he should be king). Eventually, we can have Elminster set out for Hastarl – maybe he’s had a disagreement with Helm, maybe Helm actively sent him on a mission to infiltrate the city’s underworld, maybe he just wants to make a name for himself – and meets Farl. Farl, obviously, should be much less of a creep than his canonical counterpart; maybe start him out in a relationship with Tassabra already, and definitely have him already have his gang, which Elminster joins (so they can actually be characters who matter, instead of wandering in for one scene and then disappearing). Also, a more significant change, I’d establish that Farl actually grew up in his magelord father’s household before running away, rather than said father trying to kill him at birth for poorly-explained reasons – make that connection more personal, and make it actually matter to the story. I’d also have Farl know some basic cantrips from said upbringing, that he uses to help in his thieving (even if he lacks the interest or time to commit to further training) – and give Elminster the first taste of magic as a useful tool, not something inherently to fear.
As for the magelords themselves, I’d shake them up a bit. First off, I’d make Ithboltar and Hawklyn the same person (doesn’t matter which name to go with), the entrenched leader and elder statesman of the magelords. Opposite him would be Undarl, the ambitious upstart who’s new to the group, but more powerful than he seems. The rest of the magelords should be weaker than those two, but more powerful and competent than Greenwood portrays them, and there should be some factional politicking with lesser magelords (who should be more competent than their canonical selves, but still for the most part composed of corrupt social climbers dabbling in the dark arts for personal gain, and saving the real power for the higher-ups) aligning with – or switching allegiance between – the two masters. King Belaur represents a third party, having realized that he’s made a bad bargain when he invited the magelords in and scheming with Gartos (who I’d make a bigger character and the general of the armsmen) to reclaim his power. This would play out more at the end of the story, as Elminster and Myrjala’s attempts to set the magelords against each other take advantage of this three-way political divide and actually matter. I’d also have the magelords explicitly worship Mystra, so that Elminster’s first exposure to the goddess is as the patron deity of his enemies. And I’d definitely take more time to show the iron hand of the magelords over the general populace, brutally enforcing their rule, treating people as toys or experiments, etc. – show what a nightmare this regime is, and why it has to fall.
Ultimately, I’d have Elminster and Farl set out to rob Mystra’s temple as a big middle finger to the magelords – and that’s where Elminster would meet the goddess herself and learn that she’s actually not happy with what the magelords have been doing in her name, but the rules binding the gods prevent her from acting directly. That’s why she needs a champion, and Elminster agrees to be it. At this point I’d have Mystra direct him to Myrjala, who I’d make a composite with Braer and not the same person as the goddess (and I’d cut out the romantic relationship with Myrjala entirely, and keep the relationship with Mystra down to a mortal man’s one-sided adoration of a goddess, to only be consummated later in his life, if at all, when Elminster has had time to establish himself in his own right) – instead, I’d have her be a senior Chosen tasked with mentoring the newbie. This is where the Elmara plotline could go if we want to retain it, but I think I’ve made it clear that if we’re not going to do something worthwhile with it, we should cut it. Here I’d cut Ilhundyl (at least as an active character; I’d definitely be sure to establish him in the background as a very feared mage-king ruling a powerful nation to the south) but instead have Myrjala and Elminster join an adventuring company on their own initiative (but preferably one with much more fleshed out personalities, and preferably some women in the group as well). The non-magelord antagonist slot could instead be filled by Ondil – while Elminster’s getting experience and training from Myrjala on the way, their goal here is to defeat Ondil and get his spellbooks, which contain powerful magical knowledge the magelords do not have.
After defeating Ondil and mastering his magic, then Elminster can return to Athalantar with his mentor to oppose the magelords; we can actually dedicate time to gathering together all his old allies, including their fellow adventurers who I wouldn’t kill (if Myrjala’s combined with Braer and not with Mystra, she should probably be an elf and someone who can make contact with the elves in general – which might explain why she’s so old and powerful, but also why she’s reluctant to get involved in human conflicts), spending time to rallying the people against their oppressors, and turning the magelords against each other and the king. When the final battle comes, I’d also mix things up a bit so Elminster doesn’t get all the kills. Farl should be the one to defeat his father, Hawklyn/Ithboltar (probably with some help from Elminster, admittedly), to avenge himself for the man’s cruelties and abuses. Belaur should fall to Helm, the old king’s greatest knight versus his treacherous son, which should also further reinforce Helm himself winning the throne. Elminster himself should confront Undarl, and defeat his plans and force him to flee Athalantar – but before he does, Undarl should reveal his true form as Malaug (who should have been established already by this point as a figure of dark legend) who makes it plain that though Elminster has driven him from the kingdom he sought to claim, he has not truly defeated him and their battle is not over, forcing Elminster himself to acknowledge that while he’s become powerful in his own right… there’s always a bigger fish. In the end, I’d reveal that with the magelords out of the picture, Ilhundyl now has his eyes on expanding his empire north and claiming Athalantar, leaving him as a villain for the sequel(s), while Elminster, having surrendered his crown to Helm, leaves with Myrjala as per canon to study with the elves in Cormanthor, both to improve his Art and prepare to face his enemies again, with the prospect of more adventures and challenges to come.
Conclusion
As I said before we started this spork, Making of a Mage is probably Greenwood’s most famous book, and the only one I’ve seen regularly make lists of Realms novels that get recced to new readers. So… is it actually any better than his other stuff? I’d say… it depends on how you look at it. On the one hand, unlike the Shandril books, I can pretty conclusively say what this book is about. It has an actual plot, and Elminster has an actual goal that he accomplishes by the end. His character development may be weak, and a lot of the core steps are handled… poorly, but the book purports to take Elminster from naïve youth to accomplished mage, and by the gods, that’s what it does. On the other hand, as I think I’ve made clear, the execution is not good. The book is meandering, full of subplots it doesn’t need while material it does need gets thrown at us suddenly with none of the room it needs to breathe. All of which is a Greenwood standby. But there’s a lot of stuff in here as well that’s just plain gross, with heroes who are completely unconcerned by collateral damage they cause and a lot of really icky objectification of women. Mystra’s whole relationship with Elminster gets creepier the more I think about it, and, of course, the gender subplot is handled remarkably poorly, with Greenwood seeming to have not the faintest clue how to use what he’s writing to develop his protagonist’s character, or how it might relate to the lived experiences of his readers. It’s not a book that’s completely devoid of redeeming qualities… but what virtues it does have are massively, massively overshadowed by its vices. So I, for one, would not be recommending this book to new readers looking to get into the Realms, if that even needs to be said (seriously, read Brimstone Angels or Evermeet, play Baldur’s Gate – either the classic games or the new one - or watch Honor Among Thieves instead – any of them will steer you far better)!
As for where I’m going next – well, Elminster’s story isn’t done. Though Greenwood’s next published works were the Shadow of the Avatar trilogy, I’m putting them on the backburner for a moment to dig into what immediately followed them, the next of the Elminster prequel trilogy – Making of a Mage’s direct sequel, Elminster in Myth Drannor! In which, for once, we’ll have a novel where we actually have some evidence of Greenwood being good at worldbuilding – and on the other hand, a setting that seems tailor made to cater to his worst impulses. If that interests you (and/or fills you with dread) we’ll see you then! And for everyone who’s stuck with me on this frustrating, sometimes confusing, sometimes enraging journey, I’d like to extend a big thanks to you all! And do feel free to check out my other ongoing sporkings (The Gates of Dawn and The Last Ringbearer) if you haven’t already. In any case, hope to see you all soon!
MG: Well, everyone, it is time at long last to wrap up our journey through Elminster: The Making of a Mage! Last time *deep breath* Elminster killed Belaur, took the throne, gave the throne away to Helm, fought and killed Undarl (but you have to read a bunch of other books and articles to learn what and who Undarl really was), learned Myrjala was Mystra, they had public midair sex, and Elminster became Mystra’s Chosen. *wipes forehead* Oof! Today, we wrap up some last loose ends and get a sequel hook. *flatly* Yay. As the epilogue is so short, I’ll not be bringing Keeri and Mira in for it and will be handling it myself – thank you for all your help, ladies! Once we’re done with that, we’ll take a brief look at the book’s short blurb (which is, IMO, very misleading) and then get into my final thoughts. Onward!
Epilogue
MG: And so, we open our epilogue with one last quote, this one from Tharghin “Threeboots” Ammatar in Sayings of a Most Worthy Sage. And okay, for one, I do not want to know what part of this guy’s body he’s wearing his third boot on, and for another, if you have to call yourself a “most worthy sage,” you’re probably not as worthy or as sagacious as you think you are. There are no endings save death, only pauses for breath, and new beginnings. Always, new beginnings… it’s why the world grows ever more crowded, ye see. So remember now – there are no endings, only beginnings. There; simple enough, isn’t it? Elegant, too. Ugh, okay, one, it’s kind of weird to use death as the only thing that’s apparently an ending… in a setting where the afterlife (scratch that, multiple afterlives) is something confirmed that exists, in addition to various forms of resurrection magic. And this really can’t help but sound like a clunkier version of the “there is neither beginning or end” spiel that shows up at least once in every Wheel of Time book (especially since Greenwood was writing this in the early nineties, when WoT was the big thing in epic fantasy…). But I guess as confirmation that this isn’t the end of Elminster’s adventures, it gets the job done.
The epilogue proper opens with Elminster drifting back to consciousness to find himself lying on a stone slab, still naked and smoke rising from his limbs. Maybe that’s just a side-effect of the Chosen-ing process (though, again, other works indicate that you can be Chosen by a god without knowing it, so the effects probably aren’t always this dramatic…) though it kind of also seems like an indicator that having sex with Mystra is less like sex with a person and more like surviving a natural disaster. As the smoke clears, Elminster sees that his body is physically unchanged, and Mystra is standing over him, nude and magnificent because of course she is. He thanks her and tells her that he hopes to serve her well; she says that others have said that before and some have even believed it. Which is interesting because it implies that Mystra has had other Chosen before, some of whom have let her down – but I’m pretty sure Elminster was Mystra’s first Chosen (unless you count Azuth, the first magister) and that’s part of why he’s so important to her (her predecessor, Mystryl, had at least one Chosen, Larloch… but Mystra and Mystryl aren’t exactly the same person) and the most notorious renegade Chosen of Mystra is Sammaster, founder of the Cult of the Dragon, who hasn’t been born yet. Maybe she’s just speaking more generally? Or talking about failed candidates who ended up not making the cut? But Mystra goes on to explain that she believes in Elminster; she first noticed him when Undarl destroyed Heldon and she felt the Lion Sword’s magic destroyed, and Elminster’s vow of vengeance on the magelords brought him specifically to her attention. She saw him as a man of great wits and inner kindness and strength, who might grow to be mighty. So, she continued to watch him quietly until he came to her temple, when she confronted him directly, and after seeing that he had the courage to stand up to her and debate her she decided that this Elminster could become the greatest mage the world had ever known, if I only led him and let him grow. Which… isn’t making it seem less like you decided to just groom Elminster into being your perfect boyfriend there, Mystra.
Also, it has to be said, but… Elminster is not the greatest mage Faerun has ever known (the most famous, probably, both in and out of universe, but not the most powerful). “Who is the greatest mortal mage to ever walk Faerun?” is a question that has a very clear canonical answer - Karsus. Karsus, the last and greatest ruler of Netheril who, in his pride and desperation to win Netheril’s war with the Phaerimm, devised a spell to steal the power of the gods for himself, starting with Mystryl. It worked… but Karsus couldn’t control the power he stole, and the ensuing magical cataclysm destroyed Netheril (whose core territories afterwards became the desert of Anauroch) and did serious damage to the world at large (Karsus himself died when his powers rebounded on him and turned him to stone, his last thoughts the knowledge that he had doomed everyone and everything he ever loved). Mystra, the daughter/successor/reincarnation of Mystryl, who came into being after Karsus’s death and his stolen godhead reverted to its natural state and combined with a peasant girl with latent magical abilities, literally as the first thing she ever did rewrote the entire magic system (including locking out or heavily restricting whole levels of spellcasting) to keep anyone from becoming as powerful as Karsus ever again. She, of all people, should know that being the most powerful mage who ever lived isn’t a good thing! (Also, fun fact – Karse, where Karsus’s stone corpse impacted Faerun after falling from the heavens, is in the High Forest not far from Athalantar – that might have been a place worth having Elminster visit during this book as a reminder of the price of reckless, unchecked magical power and ambition, Greenwood). And Karsus’s legacy does show up in the third Elminster prequel (The Temptation of Elminster), so it’s not like Greenwood’s just ignoring him, either. But even if you just mean “the greatest mage since Netheril” it still doesn’t work – Greenwood himself will freely admit that there are two wizards who definitely could and would best Elminster in a straight-up magical confrontation – Larloch and Halaster. Guess what? They’re both older than Elminster and therefore already around by this point in history. So, yeah. This is Greenwood and/or Mystra literally ignoring the setting’s lore to talk Elminster up. Maybe I’m reading too much into an off-the-cuff line, but a., it’s Greenwood’s favorite deity speaking, so he probably intends us to take it at face value, and b., I’ve sporked four books with Elminster in them by now (and am about to start a fifth), I’m not inclined to cut him any slack.
Further reinforcing this is that Mystra tells Elminster that El, lovely man, you have delighted me and surprised me and pleased me beyond all my hopes and expectations. And since her hopes and expectations were, explicitly, for him to become the greatest mage in Faerun… yeah. And so, they stare into each other’s eyes and Elminster knew that he’d never forget that calm, deep gaze of infinite wildness and love and wisdom however many years might lie ahead. Mystra kisses Elminster again, and he smells her strange, spicy scent and then she tells him that she’s sending him to the elven realm of Cormanthor to learn the rudiments of magic. Elminster’s taken aback by this, since he thought he’d been doing that already and, yeah, me too. I’m not sure exactly how powerful Elminster is at this moment, but considering how easily he bested Ithboltar and held his own against Ilhundyl (even if Mystra herself got that kill), I’d say he’s easily at archmage tier already. Mystra is amused that Elminster dares speak to her that way, and admits she loves him for it, but explains that he has power but without discipline or true feeling for the forces you’re crafting. Apparently, the elves can teach him that, and he’ll also be needed in Cormanthor for some reason very soon, so she tells him to go to the city and apprentice himself to any archmage he can find there. She can guide him there, but first, she wants him to stay with her for one night more, to talk, since even gods get lonely. Elminster promises he’ll stay awake as long as he can, and she tells him that as one of her Chosen, he’ll never need to sleep again. She then conjures a bottle and offers it to him. Blue lethe… from certain tombs in Netheril. Uh, okay, am I the only one who absolutely would not drink anything buried with a Netherese archwizard? Especially something with the word “lethe” in the name… Elminster wants to learn more about it, and Mystra laughs; it was a sound he treasured often in the long years that followed…
And so, we end the book with yet another quote, this one an obvious sequel hook. Thus it was that Elminster was guided to Cormanthor, the Towers of Song, where Eltargrim was Coronal. There he dwelt for twelve summers and more, studying with many mighty mages, learning to feel magic and know how it could be bent and directed to his will. His true powers he revealed to few – but it is recorded that when the Mythal was laid, and Cormanthor became Myth Drannor, Elminster was one of those who devised and spun that mighty magic. So the long tale of the doings of Elminster Farwalker began. All of this is apparently from The High History of the Faerunian Archamges Mighty. And, ah, so nice of Greenwood to succinctly summarize the whole basic plot of the sequel at the end of this book, isn’t it? In point of fact, it’s literally also the blurb for Elminster in Myth Drannor, too (aside from the last sentence and attribution, at least)! Yes, really. Also, Elminster has many titles and epithets, but outside of this book I don’t think “Farwalker” is usually one of them (he’s most often the Old Mage, Old Sage, or Sage of Shadowdale). But, in any case, on that note Elminster: The Making of a Mage comes to its end. *beat* Yay!
Blurb
Anyway, before moving on to my final thoughts, I wanted to go ahead and briefly cover this book’s blurb, which is thankfully short. In ancient days, sorcerers sought to learn the One True Spell that would give them power over all the world and understanding of all magic. The One True Spell was a woman, and her name was Mystra—and her kisses were wonderful. To start off with, we should all recognize this one as one of the epigraphs from the book itself. …and, of course it’s the one about what a great lover Mystra is. Methinks that says something about Greenwood’s priorities… It is the time before Myth Drannor, when the Heartlands are home to barbarians, and wicked dragons rule the skies. Okay, “before Myth Drannor” is true enough (technically the city already exists, but not by that name; we’ll actually get to see the name change in the sequel to this book). Unfortunately, the rest of it is… kind of irrelevant. Most obviously, none of this book takes place in the Heartlands! The Heartlands is the region of central Faerun around the Sea of Fallen Stars. Athalantar, our primary setting, is in northwest Faerun, near the Sword Coast and a short way inland from where Waterdeep is going to be located. We also take a few jaunts to the Calishar, which is much further south, around where Amn and Tethyr will end up being in the setting’s present – which is still on the Sword Coast, and still not in the Heartlands. Barbarians and dragons ruling the Heartlands would be more relevant to the origin story of the kingdom of Cormyr (as told in the Cormyr Saga series, which Greenwood contributed to but didn’t write by himself) which is in the Heartlands and does have an antagonistic history with wicked dragons (one in particular).
In these ancient days, Elminster is but a shepherd boy, dreaming of adventure and heroics. But when a dragon-riding magelord sweeps down upon him, the boy is thrust into a world of harsh realities, corrupt rulers, and evil sorcerers. Again, all of that is true enough… but I do think it’s interesting that it leaves out Elminster’s secret royal heritage. Makes it sound like Greenwood (or whoever wrote the blurb) really wanted to emphasize the “farmboy hero” angle. With patience and grit, Elminster sets about to change all that. The result of his labors is a world reborn—and a mage made. And that… dear gods, is that over the top! A world reborn, seriously? Elminster overthrew a bunch of tinpot dictators in one tiny country – I’m sure the people of Athalantar were grateful for that, but the impact on the rest of the world was pretty much nil, and Athalantar itself would become barely a footnote in Faerunian history, mostly remembered, when it’s remembered at all, because Elminster himself was born there. Again, it just really makes it sound like whoever wrote the blurb really wanted to make the book sound much grander and more epic than it actually is. And… that’s it for the blurb. And while most of it’s technically accurate, I think some of the phrasing gives a very distorted view of what the book actually is, and so I wanted to share it before we wrap things up.
That said, it’s hardly the worst blurb I’ve ever read for a Realms novel; most of the early 2000s blurbs in particular seemed to be written by people who’d barely glanced at a summary of the book in question. The blurb for The Magehound (the first Counselors and Kings book) somehow manages to get every detail about the plot save for the name and occupation of the main character (while ignoring that he’s not the only main character, and arguably not the most important) and the fact that he lives in a country called Halruaa wrong; impressive! But I digress.
Final Thoughts
And so, we come to the end. After all is said and done, what did I really think of Elminster: The Making of a Mage? As per usual for my Final Thoughts posts, I’ll be breaking it down into individual sections and then giving my ultimate verdict on the whole, so strap in, because we have some things to discuss!
Characters
Elminster/Elmara Aumar: Ah, Elminster. One of the most iconic (and infamous) characters in all the Forgotten Realms, the central protagonist of this book, which tells the story of his development from simple farmboy/son of a disenfranchised prince to mighty wizard. And the fact of the matter is… just by reading this book, I feel like I still don’t have much of a handle on who the young Elminster is. Part of it is the basic plotline Greenwood gives him is pretty generic – young person discovers his secret heritage, goes on a journey to acquire magical powers, confronts the force of evil and claims his birthright. But that by itself isn’t the problem, since other authors have taken the basic hero’s journey and made it work for them. A bigger issue for me is the timeskips, and the fact that most of Elminster’s character development takes place during them. Elminster starts off the book, after Undarl kills his family, hating magic and wanting nothing to do with it. The crux of his character development focuses therefore on learning that magic can be a tool for good, and then learning to use it himself. Again, fair enough – except Greenwood squeezes in most of that development off-page so that it feels unearned and underdeveloped. Seriously, Elminster learning his first spells and learning to love magic with Braer happens entirely between chapters eight and nine, and then further training under Myrjala to become a truly powerful wizard is skimmed over remarkably quickly at the beginning of chapter fourteen. And as such the chance to really watch Elminster learn and grow… is glossed over entirely.
The crux of Elminster’s character development that we do see involves his relationship with Mystra. And, well, it’s very telling that the part Greenwood chooses to focus on is how his creator’s pet gets a goddess for a lover. But even that feels undercooked to me because Mystra has singled out Elminster from the beginning of the story and he spends most of it walking the path she wants him to, that inevitably leads him to her (more on that in a moment). So, it ends up contributing to the idea that Elminster, rather than being a character with agency in his own right, is just walking the path Mystra and/or Greenwood has set for him, checking off the points they want him to have on a list but without them feeling to link together into a cohesive arc. The end result feels very disjointed, to say nothing of the wasted potential.
And, last of all, it’s time to talk about the elephant in the room – Elmara. I don’t know what Greenwood’s thought process behind including this subplot was, but it’s clear to me he bit off far, far more than he was able or willing to chew. The weirdest thing about the Elmara plotline is how utterly shallow and pointless it feels for something that, however you play it, should be a very big deal for Elminster to go through! But, at the end of the day, it barely feels like it matters. It doesn’t feel convincing as trans wish fulfilment – Elminster experiences no joy or euphoria at becoming Elmara, nor any sort of revelation at exploring a side of themselves that had previously been repressed. Neither does Elminster react with the sort of horror or dysphoria one would expect for a man who suddenly wakes up in a woman’s body – Elmara is briefly shocked, then more-or-less shrugs it off and the transformation becomes a complete non-issue until it’s reserved. While there’s definitely some gratuitous male gaze involved in Elmara’s description and some of the things she experiences – it is Greenwood writing, after all – it’s not nearly as much as I’d expect if it was purely an authorial fetish thing (though if someone told me Greenwood has a lot of more explicit materials related to this subplot stashed away somewhere… I wouldn’t be surprised). Elminster gets no major character development out of the experience – he learns nothing about himself from it, and if he learned to respect women more, he damned well doesn’t show it! There’s not any real exploration of gender in society, different expectations and treatment of men and women, or misogyny either (aside from that brief, inexplicable scene where Elmara almost gets raped, which is forgotten as soon as it’s completed). Even Elminster’s lack of reaction could be played for character development, but Greenwood doesn’t even seem to realize that. From a pure plot perspective, it adds nothing – the transformation seems to fail outright at one of its stated goals (to provide a new identity to hide Elminster from the magelords, considering how Undarl is still able to find him effortlessly, and Briost also recognizes him), and the transformation is imposed by Mystra, and then reversed by Elmara just happening to find a gender spell, with no real journey or though line connecting those two points. In the end, the reader is left with the impression that not only does Greenwood not do anything of substance with this plotline, but that he doesn’t even realize there are things of substance one can do with such a plotline. Which just makes me all the more certain that if he’s not willing to put in the work to handle it with the complexity and respect the issue deserves, he shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Ultimately, I think I have to agree with Sandra in the comments – Greenwood probably just wanted to write about an attractive woman doing things for a while and threw in the transformation without any further thought.
Mystra/ ”Myrjala”: Oof. Making of a Mage has a hard time keeping a supporting cast to begin with, but the closest thing to a deuteragonist it has is probably Myrjala, especially once she’s revealed to be Mystra. And, okay, to start off with, she initially seems like a female version of what Elminster will eventually become – an extremely powerful mage who considers herself a law unto herself, who does what she wants and acts as judge, jury and executioner when she feels like it, and is so powerful nobody can do anything about it. So, it’s not surprising she becomes Elminster’s teacher – and her subsequently becoming his lover isn’t surprising either, when you consider Greenwood’s proclivities (which doesn’t make it any less gross, imo). But the discovery that she’s really Mystra makes it worse – for one, since she’s not only a goddess but Elminster’s patron goddess, the power dynamic between the two is now thoroughly, irreparably lopsided. But worse is that Mystra’s been chessmastering Elminster’s life since his childhood, in various guises, which makes the whole thing even grosser. I don’t want to use terms like “grooming” lightly, but… in this particular circumstance, it feels very hard to avoid. I don’t object in general to gods romancing mortals, or to gods manipulating mortals’ lives towards their desired outcome… but I really don’t think those tropes should be combined. And Mystra in general feels like a combination of traits from the Fair Folk and gods after the classical mold – a powerful being beyond human morality, who toys with the lives of mortals for her own gratification and is impervious to any sort of judgment or reprisal. Which would be a fine characterization for a deity embodying a cosmic force as powerful and abstract as “magic” - except that Greenwood seems to actually want us to think she’s perfectly good and admirable. Though I am compelled to wonder if no one else on the Realms writing staff was as fond of her… after all, the Time of Troubles, the first major Realms storyline, involved this Mystra being killed off (permanently, unlike other gods such as Bane, Torm, and Myrkul who died at the same time but were later brought back, in some cases fairly quickly) and replaced with a successor who is explicitly a different person… it does make one think…
Undarl Dragonrider/Malaug(?): Making of a Mage has several main antagonists, but of them all, Undarl is probably the closest to an overall Big Bad, as the murderer of Elminster’s parents, the de jure leader and most dangerous of the magelords, and the final boss. As the antagonists go… he’s probably the least terrible. He’s actually got a meaningful, personal enmity (on Elminster’s end, at least) with our protagonist, he’s the only magelord who comes across as truly powerful and evil. On the other hand, his presentation has some serious problems. For one, while doing this spork I was fairly surprised to really see how little presence he has for most of the story. He really only appears four times – destroying Heldon at the beginning, his inexplicable appearance at Ondil’s tower, the magelord meeting in chapter twelve, and then the final battle in the last two chapters, and he’s never given a chance to show much personality beyond “generic evil wizard”. And while it’s certainly possible to establish a villain as maintaining a presence in the story without appearing physically (Sauron from LotR being my go-to example, but he’s hardly the only one in modern fantasy) Greenwood doesn’t really have the skill to pull it off. And while Undarl is genuinely more powerful than most of the other magelords… it mostly means that, rather than dying instantly when opposed, he gets to survive having his ass kicked in immediate succession no less than three times in two chapters before he finally dies. Yay. And, of course, as we’ve already been over, the revelation of his true identity is really awkwardly handled, forcing the reader to read articles and sourcebooks that weren’t even out yet to understand what was really going on with him (and if he is Malaug, he should be a lot more powerful than he comes off as here). Basically, Undarl is the best villain in the book – but that’s not saying very much.
Ithboltar and Other Magelords: Doing them together, because frankly there’s not a lot to distinguish them. Ithboltar is one of the book’s other main antagonists, as the de facto leader of most of the magelords, despite his limited page time. And, well, he’s terrible at it. He shows up far too late in the book (with only very limited foreshadowing beforehand) to feel like he matters and accomplishes nothing of note while he’s there before dying anticlimactically. The Villains’ Lorebook and the “Athalantan Campaign” article describe how he was the original master of most of the magelords, and worked to maintain his role as a confidant, advisor and mentor to the rest of them, so that even when he wasn’t officially in charge, they always followed his lead (even without using his crown to dominate them and enforce it). Ithboltar as portrayed in the book accomplishes exactly none of that, with the other magelords blowing him off and outright calling him senile, and Elminster kills him off effortlessly as soon as he confronts him directly.
The rest of the magelords… well, I’d rank them as comparable to the Psychlos of Battlefield Earth for sheer “how did these bozos ever conquer anything?” factor, but I’ve started to think that might actually be unfair to the Psychlos. They are, for the most part, completely incompetent, dying in droves to their own stupidity (a tradition started by their initial leader, Hawklyn, all the way back in chapter five) and, by the end of the book, are even being killed by common soldiers with no effort. While a couple of them (Taraj, Seldinor) stand out as memorably evil, for the most part they just sort of blur together into one interchangeable smug asshole repeated over and over again, and though they’re definitely evil, their actual tyranny feels remarkably limp, less an iron hand over all of Athalantar and more individual magelords using their powers to bully individual people. Really, they come of less as an organized dictatorship and more like a bunch of loosely associated gangsters. Ultimately, I’m just sort of at a loss as to what Greenwood was trying to do with the magelords. They’re not really powerful or threatening on an individual level – even taking aside their abysmal track record, we’re repeatedly told what mediocre wizards they all are. But they’re not a commentary on institutional evil, either, since they barely have an institution – they’ve just parked themselves on top of Athalantar’s normal government and use their powers to brute force people’s obedience. Even though they’re foreign to Athalantar in origin, they’re not really presented as an occupying or colonizing force. They’re far too mundane to be convincing as great evils, but if they’re supposed to represent the banal evils of small-minded men with too much power using it to do what they want and abuse those they feel are below them, that gets muddied when Undarl, by far their most narratively prominent member and official leader in the back half of the book, actually does turn out to be a great and ancient evil! And the fun of having a bunch of squabbling main antagonists is entirely lost when they almost all, once again, act exactly the same. If these are supposed to be the villains who the great Elminster first made his reputation by defeating… count me very, very underwhelmed.
King Belaur Aumar: Yet another waste (noticing a pattern here?). Belaur gets talked up a fair bit in the first chapter, when we get our big infodump on the state of Athalantar, but then mostly vanishes from the story until chapter twelve, when we meet his minion Gartos and get a hint of friction between the two of them and the magelords… and then that goes nowhere. Finally, Greenwood seems to remember the guy in the last two chapters, and pulls him out at the end to be one of the book’s climactic bosses, even though it's not really supported by what the book’s been building to so far (a clash of wizards), and in the process loads him down with every evil king cliché in the book (including variation of fricking prima noctis) just to make sure we know he deserves to die. Other than that… there’s not a lot to say about the guy, although he technically qualifies as one of the main antagonists by default.
Ilhundyl “The Mad Mage”: The last of our main antagonists. Ilhundyl basically occupies the antagonist niche that I sometimes think of as the “Saruman” role (based more on book Saruman than movie Saruman, who is less independent of Sauron than his novel counterpart) – the supporting antagonist who’s mostly or wholly independent from the big bad, who is defeated by the protagonists partway through the story in the course of preparing to face the actual big bads. But at the same time… he feels like an antagonist from a different book altogether. For one, he undermines the threat of the magelords even further just by existing – after all, the first thing we ever learn about him is that he’s “stronger by far” than any of the magelords, but Elminster defeats him before returning to Athalantar to take the magelords on, which doesn’t help the tension at all. But even beyond that, his connection to the story is tenuous. Elmara seeks him out for poorly explained when she really ought to know better, he decides to user her and then kill her, the Magister intervenes for some inexplicable reason to stop him from doing that, and then years later Elminster decides to get revenge on him when it’s not even clear when Elminster learned Ilhundyl tried to kill him. It feels like several chapters establishing the characters’ enmity ended up missing. And while we’re told Ilhundyl is the ruler of the Calishar and a terrible mage-tyrant, we never see any of his domain outside of his castle, which makes that ring hollow. On the other hand, I will say that while he doesn’t really live up to his billing as one of the greatest wizards of his age, he still does a much better job of holding his own against Elminster than any other villain (ultimately requiring Myrjala – aka, Mystra herself – to intervene on his behalf), so he’s got that going for him, at least. Ultimately, I feel like this character had potential… but he definitely needed a different story to be the big bad of, and in this one he just ends up sort of out of place.
Helm Stoneblade: Helm is meant to be a hero of the common people, a former knight of King Uthgrael turned rebel against the magelords, one of Elminster’s first mentors and the man he ultimately gives the throne to. And… he kind of sucks at it. Upon meeting Elminster and learning he’s the last scion of the royal house he’s sworn to protect, instead of taking the kid under his wing, he… lets him wander off on his own with no idea of what he’s doing. His resistance against the magelords seems to be entirely ineffective, with nothing to show for it over the course of decades beyond some generic banditry. After the first Part, he vanishes from the book entirely until Elminster needs rebels to recruit in the last Part. And so, what should be a powerful moment – Elminster giving him the crown – falls entirely flat, because we’re given no idea as to why we should want this guy as our king.
Farl: Good grief, where to begin? Take a lovable rogue and subtract the “lovable,” and he’s what you get (not the first time Greenwood has done this – see also Torm of the Knights of Myth Drannor and, for an older version, Mirt). He’s supposed to be the charming thief, Elminster’s best friend, and plucky underdog in a corrupt city, but really he just comes off as a kleptomaniac creep with zero concern for how his actions affect everyone else. And that’s not getting into his misogyny – a creepy voyeur who regularly objectifies women and whose treatment of Shandathe is as abominable as it is inexplicable (the fact that it ended happily is no excuse, since he had no way of knowing that would happen). Not helping any of this is how the idea of him being Neldryn Hawklyn’s bastard son, and the chance to use it to give him some complexity, is completely squandered, as Hawklyn is killed immediately after the idea is introduced and it’s subsequently never relevant again. The good news is that he’s only a major character in the second and last Parts – and the bad news is, that’s still two Parts too many.
Baerithryn “Braer”: Elminster’s first magical teacher. Braer is a recognizable archetype – the hermit guru who’s retreated from society to pursue wisdom, which he in turn passes on down to the young protagonist. Unfortunately, we skip over most of his teachings, which makes it hard to get a good sense of it. What we do see shows him prone to the cultural arrogance of D&D elves, and a sometimes-shocking lack of understanding of how his words and actions affect his student – but he’s also at least willing to swallow his pride and admit when he screwed up and then try and be better, which makes him unusual for both a D&D elf and a Greenwood protagonist. Unfortunately, he then goes and drops a dragon onto a populated city, which escapes causing mass civilian death only by pure authorial fiat.
The Magister: Why is this guy here? Seriously, he appears in only two scenes – one where he kills Hawklyn, which seems to foreshadow the man Elminster will eventually become, and then another as a deus ex machina to get Ilhundyl off Elmara’s back. And that’s it. After that, he leaves the story without an explanation, and we never get any sort of resolution with him at all. I can only assume Greenwood wanted to write about a massively powerful archamge kicking ass and couldn’t wait for Elminster to be old and experienced enough for the role – and when he was, the Magister got dropped like a hot potato. It’s almost enough to make me feel sorry for the bastard. Almost.
Setting
The more I read and spork Greenwood’s fiction, the more I’m left feeling that Ed Greenwood the worldbuilder and Ed Greenwood the novelist are somehow two different people – and they’re not on speaking terms. Greenwood’s reputation is as the man who created one of the largest, most detailed fictional worlds not just in D&D, but arguably in all of fiction – and yet Athalantar, the primary setting he chooses when telling the origin story of his signature character, is boring. Seriously, at its core Athalantar is one acme vaguely-Celtic/vaguely-Germanic fantasy kingdom, with castles and knights and peasants and thieves and a hidden royal heir… and nothing that makes it stand out. You’ve got the magelords, of course, but they’re about the least interesting way to write a magocracy I can think of. We have no social institutions built around wizards, no cultural mores based around the idea of wizards being in charge, no history of wizardly rule… just one group of wizards lording it over everyone else by brute force, their power extending only as far as the reach of their magic. They don’t even really run the government so much as just bully the government, from the king on down, into doing what they want. The contrast between some of the setting’s other magocracies, such as Thay, Halruaa or, in the past, Netheril, where wizards and their rule are integrated into society at every level, is striking. Greenwood would later write the “Athalantan Campaign” article for Dragon Magazine, fleshing the kingdom out some more for use as a game setting – but even so, I can’t imagine wanting to roleplay there, since everything about it is done better elsewhere in Faerun. Even when we leave Athalantar, it’s not much better. The High Forest is… a forest. Elves live there, but aside from Braer we only meet a few, and that only briefly. The countryside is mostly forgettable and feels no different outside of Athalantar than in it. And we see absolutely nothing of the Calishar outside of Ilhundyl’s castle. Especially jarring considering that part of what makes Faerun such a popular setting is its variety – while most of the major DND settings have a sort of “theme” (Dragonlance is Tolkienesque high fantasy, Eberron is postmodern dungeon punk, Dark Sun is postapocalyptic sword and sorcery, Ravenloft is gothic dark fantasy, etc.) with the Realms you can find somewhere to support pretty much any sort of fantasy story you want to tell. So, of course, for this book Greenwood gives us the most generic setting imaginable. Sigh. One thing I will say is that Greenwood does capture that this period has a different vibe from the setting’s present – Making of a Mage feels more stereotypically medieval/ “dark ages”, while present-day Faerun is more Renaissance. But that’s about as far as I’m willing to go.
On the subject of setting, though – does anyone have any more interesting magocracies they can think of to share? How about better handled revolts against tyrannical governments? I can think of a few myself, but I’m curious to see what other people think of.
Plot
As previously mentioned, the plot here is pretty basic hero’s journey material – Elminster has to learn to be a mage, so he can confront the evil wizards who took over his country, destroyed his home and killed his family. Straightforward enough. Unfortunately, I think Greenwood still has a hard time pulling it all together. As usual, he has a tendency to meander, and it works against him, with large chunks of the story adding nothing to Elminster’s journey. Almost all of the first Part (Elminster’s time as an outlaw) can be jettisoned entirely with zero impact on the plot, as can most of the second. Elmara’s adventure with the Brave Blades adds nothing, as the Blades are all immediately killed off before we get to know them and Ondil’s spellbook is proven to be a fake. Elmara’s first return to Athalantar is also pointless aside from meeting Myrjala, which could have been moved to literally anywhere; meanwhile, Elmara’s training with Myrjala, which actually is important, gets crammed into half a chapter. This continues a pattern that’s consistent across a lot of Greenwood’s works, where material that is important is often rushed or poorly set up, while material that isn’t important eats up far too much page time (did we really need multiple chapters of bad sex comedy?) and because Making of a Mage, unlike a lot of other Greenwood works (looking at you, Hand of Fire), actually does have a clear through line (Elminster learning magic and overthrowing the magelords), it’s even more obvious here. Also not helping is the book’s short length – the more time we spend farting around on irrelevant sideplots, the less time we have to spend on things like Elminster’s training or the actual battle with the magelords, and they end up suffering as a result, not carrying the weight they should.
Really, a lot of the plot just feels like checking off beats Greenwood wanted Elminster to hit across the course of his life, as indicated by the Part titles – first he’s an outlaw, then he’s a thief, then a priest, then a mage, then finally a rebel king. The problem is that while it may have been clear to Greenwood how each of these built on each other and contributed to the man Elminster would become, he doesn’t do a particularly good job of conveying that to the reader. In particular, as mentioned before, because so much of Elminster’s key character development is skimmed over, and what we do spend time on is often redundant (the line between the “priest” and “mage” portions of Elminster’s life in particular is very blurry – Elmara is supposedly a cleric, but aside from brief mentions of her praying to Mystra for spells or to be empowered, we see her casting arcane spells she’s learned and prepared out of spellbooks, therefore acting like a wizard and not a cleric). And speaking of the Elmara plotline in general… yeah, do something worthwhile with it, or lose it. And if Greenwood just can’t speak to transgender issues in a mature or thoughtful way – well, it was his choice to make that a major plotline in the first place, so he really shouldn’t have.
Tone and Theme
It feels worth addressing here, but this book’s tone is weird. Part of that comes back to the nature of the antagonists – defeating the magelords is supposed to be a big, serious undertaking, but at the same time the narrative undermines them at every turn, so it’s hard to really feel that. Greenwood likes to include lots of gory violence and elements of the seamy undersides of magic, adventuring and society in general, which based on his notes in the Shandril books and elsewhere seems to be an attempt to deconstruct more “sanitized” fantasy… but at the same time, you have characters casually cracking jokes and seeming completely unaffected in the middle of all this, and rather than dark humor as a coping mechanism it just makes it seem like they don’t care at all – which makes all of Greenwood’s characters feel like a bunch of psychopaths. The treatment of women is also… not good. Normally, Greenwood’s biggest problem in writing women is that he’s a massive voyeur who can’t resist having his female characters get naked at the drop of a hat or otherwise be extremely sexualized. And that’s definitely present here. But what’s really notable in this book is the lack of major female protagonists, aside from Myrjala (who isn’t a mortal woman) and Elmara (who goes back to being Elminster two-thirds of the way through and never looks back). The result is that we’re mostly left with women in bit parts, existing to be gawked and leered at, exploited or assaulted by the villains, or bizarrely taken advantage of by our alleged heroes (poor Shandathe!). And even Mystra, one of the most powerful deities on Toril, gets consistently described in terms of how hot and sexy she is. Not only is Greenwood’s writing sexist and sleazy, but it also just feels very immature, in the particular way of someone trying too hard to be mature and missing the mark, which is a consistent problem he’s never grown out of. Not helping on the gender front is the fact that the magelords are all men (except for a couple of apprentices kept around as eye candy more than anything) which just feels lazy on Greenwood’s part. And, I mean, making the main antagonist faction a club dominated by powerful, sleezy men could be effective if Greenwood was willing to devote time and energy to actually exploring the implications of that… but he doesn’t.
Thematically… well, I’m not really sure what this book is trying to say other than “magic is awesome and we should have more of it, and people who use it as a cheap crutch for personal power should have more respect for it and not do that” (which, when you’re talking about literal, D&D style spellcasting, isn’t the most applicable lesson to the real world). But, if we’re meant to be seeing how what the magelords do with magic is a perversion of what Mystra’s Art really is, there’s not a lot in the book that shows us that – especially since we skip over Elminster’s own learning to love magic! Not to mention that the main thing we see Elminster doing with his magic once he’s gotten it mostly seems to consist of wreaking destruction and killing his enemies – in other words, the exact same stuff the magelords get up to, just more effective at it and targeting different people! Elminster’s realization that just because he has royal blood doesn’t make him the best candidate for the throne is pretty good… but undermined by the fact that we’re not given much reason to see why Helm, the guy he gives the throne to, really is a better choice. “Magic shouldn’t be used to rule over people” seems like a consistent theme, but it’s kind of hypocritical considering that in the setting’s present, there are plenty of magocracies and Elminster is friends (or lovers) with various magical rulers, and neither he nor Mystra seem to have a problem with that. And while Elminster gives up his throne at the end, it seems less like he’s doing it because he’s decided mages shouldn’t rule people, and more that he’s realized he personally doesn’t want to be king, which is… less satisfying. Supposedly, Elminster learns wisdom and compassion across his journeys, but he never gets much chance to show it off, and his primary motivation across the whole book is personal revenge, with helping the common people being decidedly secondary (if only because the common people who aren’t Elminster’s friends have very little presence in the book to begin with). Unfortunately, If I went to this book looking for an answer to the question of “what makes a great mage?” I don’t think it really has one unless that answer is “the goddess of magic likes them.” Which, again, isn’t exactly applicable to most people’s lives.
How Would I Fix It?
In general, I’d say the core plot of Making of a Mage is perfectly serviceable, but hoo boy, does the execution have issues. So that’s what I’ll be focusing on when looking at how I’d improve things – I’ll be following the rough outline of the original book’s plot, while trying to streamline things and fix what I see as the worst problems. To start off, I think this book needed to be longer, significantly longer, or maybe even a series. Give the plot room to breathe, give us time to actually get to know the characters and get invested in them instead of racing through all the important stuff. I’d also lose the creepy male-gaze depictions of women, and have characters actually react appropriately to the violence instead of brushing it off. Moving to specifics:
First off, spend some time at Heldon before it’s destroyed; give us time to actually care about the place and Elthryn and Amrythale, so that Undarl’s attack actually feels meaningful. Also, establish the prophecy about the Aumar line and Athalantar from the beginning; leave it bubbling in the background for the whole book, as something that undergirds the entire political culture of Athalantar. Afterwards, have Elminster actually stay with Helm; not only does it make more sense narratively, but it gives us time to establish a connection between the two of them, cement Helm as someone noble who Elminster looks up to, and how even if he’s not made much headway overall, show how he’s been fighting the magelords and why the people consider him a hero (basically, all the legwork for establishing why he should be king). Eventually, we can have Elminster set out for Hastarl – maybe he’s had a disagreement with Helm, maybe Helm actively sent him on a mission to infiltrate the city’s underworld, maybe he just wants to make a name for himself – and meets Farl. Farl, obviously, should be much less of a creep than his canonical counterpart; maybe start him out in a relationship with Tassabra already, and definitely have him already have his gang, which Elminster joins (so they can actually be characters who matter, instead of wandering in for one scene and then disappearing). Also, a more significant change, I’d establish that Farl actually grew up in his magelord father’s household before running away, rather than said father trying to kill him at birth for poorly-explained reasons – make that connection more personal, and make it actually matter to the story. I’d also have Farl know some basic cantrips from said upbringing, that he uses to help in his thieving (even if he lacks the interest or time to commit to further training) – and give Elminster the first taste of magic as a useful tool, not something inherently to fear.
As for the magelords themselves, I’d shake them up a bit. First off, I’d make Ithboltar and Hawklyn the same person (doesn’t matter which name to go with), the entrenched leader and elder statesman of the magelords. Opposite him would be Undarl, the ambitious upstart who’s new to the group, but more powerful than he seems. The rest of the magelords should be weaker than those two, but more powerful and competent than Greenwood portrays them, and there should be some factional politicking with lesser magelords (who should be more competent than their canonical selves, but still for the most part composed of corrupt social climbers dabbling in the dark arts for personal gain, and saving the real power for the higher-ups) aligning with – or switching allegiance between – the two masters. King Belaur represents a third party, having realized that he’s made a bad bargain when he invited the magelords in and scheming with Gartos (who I’d make a bigger character and the general of the armsmen) to reclaim his power. This would play out more at the end of the story, as Elminster and Myrjala’s attempts to set the magelords against each other take advantage of this three-way political divide and actually matter. I’d also have the magelords explicitly worship Mystra, so that Elminster’s first exposure to the goddess is as the patron deity of his enemies. And I’d definitely take more time to show the iron hand of the magelords over the general populace, brutally enforcing their rule, treating people as toys or experiments, etc. – show what a nightmare this regime is, and why it has to fall.
Ultimately, I’d have Elminster and Farl set out to rob Mystra’s temple as a big middle finger to the magelords – and that’s where Elminster would meet the goddess herself and learn that she’s actually not happy with what the magelords have been doing in her name, but the rules binding the gods prevent her from acting directly. That’s why she needs a champion, and Elminster agrees to be it. At this point I’d have Mystra direct him to Myrjala, who I’d make a composite with Braer and not the same person as the goddess (and I’d cut out the romantic relationship with Myrjala entirely, and keep the relationship with Mystra down to a mortal man’s one-sided adoration of a goddess, to only be consummated later in his life, if at all, when Elminster has had time to establish himself in his own right) – instead, I’d have her be a senior Chosen tasked with mentoring the newbie. This is where the Elmara plotline could go if we want to retain it, but I think I’ve made it clear that if we’re not going to do something worthwhile with it, we should cut it. Here I’d cut Ilhundyl (at least as an active character; I’d definitely be sure to establish him in the background as a very feared mage-king ruling a powerful nation to the south) but instead have Myrjala and Elminster join an adventuring company on their own initiative (but preferably one with much more fleshed out personalities, and preferably some women in the group as well). The non-magelord antagonist slot could instead be filled by Ondil – while Elminster’s getting experience and training from Myrjala on the way, their goal here is to defeat Ondil and get his spellbooks, which contain powerful magical knowledge the magelords do not have.
After defeating Ondil and mastering his magic, then Elminster can return to Athalantar with his mentor to oppose the magelords; we can actually dedicate time to gathering together all his old allies, including their fellow adventurers who I wouldn’t kill (if Myrjala’s combined with Braer and not with Mystra, she should probably be an elf and someone who can make contact with the elves in general – which might explain why she’s so old and powerful, but also why she’s reluctant to get involved in human conflicts), spending time to rallying the people against their oppressors, and turning the magelords against each other and the king. When the final battle comes, I’d also mix things up a bit so Elminster doesn’t get all the kills. Farl should be the one to defeat his father, Hawklyn/Ithboltar (probably with some help from Elminster, admittedly), to avenge himself for the man’s cruelties and abuses. Belaur should fall to Helm, the old king’s greatest knight versus his treacherous son, which should also further reinforce Helm himself winning the throne. Elminster himself should confront Undarl, and defeat his plans and force him to flee Athalantar – but before he does, Undarl should reveal his true form as Malaug (who should have been established already by this point as a figure of dark legend) who makes it plain that though Elminster has driven him from the kingdom he sought to claim, he has not truly defeated him and their battle is not over, forcing Elminster himself to acknowledge that while he’s become powerful in his own right… there’s always a bigger fish. In the end, I’d reveal that with the magelords out of the picture, Ilhundyl now has his eyes on expanding his empire north and claiming Athalantar, leaving him as a villain for the sequel(s), while Elminster, having surrendered his crown to Helm, leaves with Myrjala as per canon to study with the elves in Cormanthor, both to improve his Art and prepare to face his enemies again, with the prospect of more adventures and challenges to come.
Conclusion
As I said before we started this spork, Making of a Mage is probably Greenwood’s most famous book, and the only one I’ve seen regularly make lists of Realms novels that get recced to new readers. So… is it actually any better than his other stuff? I’d say… it depends on how you look at it. On the one hand, unlike the Shandril books, I can pretty conclusively say what this book is about. It has an actual plot, and Elminster has an actual goal that he accomplishes by the end. His character development may be weak, and a lot of the core steps are handled… poorly, but the book purports to take Elminster from naïve youth to accomplished mage, and by the gods, that’s what it does. On the other hand, as I think I’ve made clear, the execution is not good. The book is meandering, full of subplots it doesn’t need while material it does need gets thrown at us suddenly with none of the room it needs to breathe. All of which is a Greenwood standby. But there’s a lot of stuff in here as well that’s just plain gross, with heroes who are completely unconcerned by collateral damage they cause and a lot of really icky objectification of women. Mystra’s whole relationship with Elminster gets creepier the more I think about it, and, of course, the gender subplot is handled remarkably poorly, with Greenwood seeming to have not the faintest clue how to use what he’s writing to develop his protagonist’s character, or how it might relate to the lived experiences of his readers. It’s not a book that’s completely devoid of redeeming qualities… but what virtues it does have are massively, massively overshadowed by its vices. So I, for one, would not be recommending this book to new readers looking to get into the Realms, if that even needs to be said (seriously, read Brimstone Angels or Evermeet, play Baldur’s Gate – either the classic games or the new one - or watch Honor Among Thieves instead – any of them will steer you far better)!
As for where I’m going next – well, Elminster’s story isn’t done. Though Greenwood’s next published works were the Shadow of the Avatar trilogy, I’m putting them on the backburner for a moment to dig into what immediately followed them, the next of the Elminster prequel trilogy – Making of a Mage’s direct sequel, Elminster in Myth Drannor! In which, for once, we’ll have a novel where we actually have some evidence of Greenwood being good at worldbuilding – and on the other hand, a setting that seems tailor made to cater to his worst impulses. If that interests you (and/or fills you with dread) we’ll see you then! And for everyone who’s stuck with me on this frustrating, sometimes confusing, sometimes enraging journey, I’d like to extend a big thanks to you all! And do feel free to check out my other ongoing sporkings (The Gates of Dawn and The Last Ringbearer) if you haven’t already. In any case, hope to see you all soon!
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Date: 2023-11-27 10:41 am (UTC)This immediately reminds me of the BattleAxe trilogy, in which Axis goes from thinking magic and "the Forbidden" are eeeeevil because that's what he's been taught all his life to finding out he's half Forbidden and can use magic and being bizarrely okay with it. And his friends are all okay with it too. It was so completely ridiculous, not to mention utterly unbelievable.