I love The Witcher. I loved playing The Wild Hunt across lockdown earlier this year, I loved watching the Netflix adaptation in a ludicrously short period when it came out at the end of 2019, and I am loving making my way through the original books; the various iterations of this story are all amazing. Moreover, the world Andrzej Sapkowski created displays a powerful imagination, fuelled by the mythology and history in which his native Poland is steeped.
It’s why I immediately accepted the offer to review the translation of Tower of Fools. First released in 2002, it is the first in the Hussite Trilogy, which recounts the time of the Hussite, or Bohemian, Wars, while weaving magic through the world and narrative. And here we encountered our first stumbling block. I should hasten to note that I was definitely the problem here because while I know roughly where Silesia is (somewhere between modern-day Germany, Poland, and the Czech Republic), and I sort of knew that the Bohemians originated around Prague, but I had little to no knowledge of the Hussites beyond a vague recognition of the name.
All of this would have definitely helped me navigate the world of Tower of Fools which follows Reinmar of Bielau, a young man whose affair with a married woman sees his life put in danger by the vengeful campaign of his erstwhile lover’s in-laws. However, Reinmar is quickly and unwittingly drawn into larger movements; he practices magic, studied during his time in university at Prague, which immediately means he must be cautious around the zealous inquisitorial movement, members of whom are also trying to spearhead another crusade against the blasphemous Hussites following a failed effort a few years previously. What’s more, one of the groups which now threaten Reinmar are likely behind the murder of his brother. Reinmar, along with friends he gathers along the way, travels all over Silesia, encountering knights of varying allegiances and morals, in pursuit of safety and answers – which more often than not, are mutually exclusive.
It sounds complicated, right? Maybe that’s because I’ve done a poor job of distilling it – certainly, the blurbs I’ve read have seemed simpler, but I also think they’ve only focused on a small part of the story. There was a lot going on, and at times, the chapters felt near-episodic, which sometimes meant that I struggled to stay consistently engaged (it doesn’t help that Reinmar isn’t the kind of character I like, so I found his behaviour reasonably frustrating, although Scharley, one of his companions, made up for that in spades). In addition, the cast of characters was huge and there were so many people who Reinmar encountered, that I found it very difficult to keep track of them.
While I don’t have significant exposure to Polish literature (or really, much Eastern European writing), I’m of Central European descent, so I feel reasonably confident in saying that some of the parts of the novel which struck me at times as a little unusual in terms of pacing or focus, were more to do with the conventions of writing informed by Polish and Eastern European literary norms than because the novel was poorly written. Indeed, it makes sense, given the novel details a major moment in Polish history.
The story in the second half was certainly more engaging, and I found myself putting the book down far less often as I neared the conclusion – it helped that the revolving castlist slowed a little, and the events were more closely linked to one another. Additionally, in the story’s second half, the discussions about piety, morality, and the debate about the role of the church more directly intersect with Reinmar’s encounters, which really enriched those final chapters.
In sum, I’m not actually sure whether I would recommend the book. But I wouldn’t not recommend it, if that makes sense. Sapkowski certainly knows what he’s doing as an author as there are some really well-written moments across the text (hard to know exactly if it’s the original author’s work whenever one deals with a translation, but having read his other books, I feel confident in this claim), and I particularly love how the women are written, especially considering this text was written in 2002.
As I read through the text, I was ultimately left with the sense that my lack of knowledge about the history being interpreted was the problem, far more-so than the book itself. While some may say that’s a failing of the book, I think it’s important to remember that this was originally written for an audience which would be aware of it. Therefore, my advice to anyone looking to pick up Tower of Fools is to do a cheeky google of the Hussite wars, and have a quick scroll through the Wikipedia page before they dive in.
Tower of Fools is available from Amazon, Book Depository, and other good book retailers, like your local bookstore.
Will you be picking up Tower of Fools? Tell us in the comments below!
Synopsis | Goodreads
From the New York Times bestselling author of the legendary Witcher series–the books that inspired the Netflix show and the hit video games–comes the first in an epic new trilogy.
Reinmar of Bielawa, sometimes known as Reynevan, is a doctor, a magician and, according to some, a charlatan. And when a thoughtless indiscretion finds him caught in the crosshairs of powerful noble family, he is forced to flee his home.
But once he passes beyond the city borders, he finds that there are dangers ahead as well as behind. Strange mystical forces are gathering in the shadows. And pursued not only by the affronted Stercza brothers, bent on vengeance, but also by the Holy Inquisition, Reynevan finds himself in the Narrenturm, the Tower of Fools.
The Tower is an asylum for the mad, or for those who dare to think differently and challenge the prevailing order. And escaping the Tower, avoiding the conflict around him, and keeping his own sanity might prove a greater challenge than Reynevan ever imagined.
