Candy Box: The Way of Kings

 “Books have great value,” Elend said. 

“Actions have greater value.”

“And where am I to learn the proper actions?”

“From me.”

In The Well of Ascension, the second Mistborn novel, new king Elend Venture is visited by Tindwyl, a woman who has studied biographies of great leaders throughout history and has been asked to assist the king in commanding the respect of his subjects. Tindwyl gets to work immediately and bluntly. I found the advice she gives Elend to be genuinely helpful, and I’ve reproduced it here for my own reference.

________

Elend stood uncomfortably as the tall woman walked around the table in a slow circle, studying him as a merchant might inspect a piece of furniture up for auction. Finally she stopped, placing her hands on her hips. 

“Stand up straight,” she commanded. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re slouching,” the woman said. “A king must maintain an air of dignity at all times, even when with his friends.” 

Elend frowned. “Now, while I appreciate advice, I don’t—” 

“No,” the woman said. “Don’t hedge. Command.” 

“Excuse me?” Elend said again. The woman stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and pressing his back firmly to improve his posture. She stepped back, then nodded slightly to herself. 

“Now, see,” Elend said. “I don’t—“ 

“No,” the woman interrupted. “You must be stronger in the way that you speak. Presentation—words, actions, postures—will determine how people judge you and react to you. If you start every sentence with softness and uncertainty, you will seem soft and uncertain. Be forceful!” 

“What is going on here?” Elend demanded, exasperated. 

“There,” the woman said. “Finally.” 

“You said that you know Sazed?” Elend asked, resisting the urge to slouch back into his earlier posture. 

“He is an acquaintance,” the woman said. “My name is Tindwyl; I am, as you have guessed, a Keeper of Terris.” She tapped her foot for a moment, then shook her head. “Sazed warned me about your slovenly appearance, but I honestly assumed that no king could have such a poor sense of self-presentation.” 

“Slovenly?” Elend asked. “Excuse me?” 

“Stop saying that,” Tindwyl snapped. “Don’t ask questions; say what you mean. If you object, object—don’t leave your words up to my interpretation.” 

________

“You have good ideas, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl said. “Regal ideas. However, you are not a king. A man can only lead when others accept him as their leader, and he has only as much authority as his subjects give to him. All of the brilliant ideas in the world cannot save your kingdom if no one will listen to them.” 

Elend turned. "This last year I’ve read every pertinent book on leadership and governance in the four libraries.” 

Tindwyl raised an eyebrow. "Then, I suspect that you spent a great deal of time in your room that you should have been out, being seen by your people and learning to be a ruler.” 

________

“Don’t argue with me.” 

“But, see, the other day you said that—“ 

“Kings don’t argue, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl said firmly. “They command. And, part of your ability to command comes from your bearing. Slovenly clothing invites other slovenly habits—such as your posture, which I’ve already mentioned, I believe.”

________

“Is that all it is, then?” Elend asked. “Expressions and costumes? Is that what makes a king?” 

“Of course not.” 

Elend stopped by the door, turning back. “Then, what does? What do you think makes a man a good king, Tindwyl of Terris?” 

“Trust,” Tindwyl said, looking him in the eyes. “A good king is one who is trusted by his people—and one who deserves that trust.”  

________

“Surely you noticed how well I did,” Elend said. “I got them to let me go into Straff’s camp.” 

“You are king, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl said, arms folded. “Nobody ‘lets’ you do anything. The first change in attitude has to be your own—you have to stop thinking that you need permission or agreement from those who follow you.” 

“A king should lead by consent of his citizens,” Elend said. “I will not be another Lord Ruler.” 

“A king should be strong,” Tindwyl said firmly. “He accepts counsel, but only when he asks for it. He makes it clear that the final decision is his, not his counselors’. You need better control over your advisors. If they don’t respect you, then your enemies won’t either—and the masses never will.”

________

“Very well, Your Majesty. You can unclench your fists now. You’re going to have to work on that—a statesman should not give visual clues of his nervousness.” 

________

“Don’t apologize unless you really mean it,” Tindwyl said. “And don’t make excuses. You don’t need them. A leader is often judged by how well he bears responsibility. As king, everything that happens in your kingdom — regardless of who commits the act—is your fault. You are even responsible for unavoidable events such as earthquakes or storms… It is your responsibility to deal with these things, and if something goes wrong, it is your fault. You simply have to accept this… Guilt,” Tindwyl said, “does not become a king. You have to stop feeling sorry for yourself.” 

“You just told me everything that happens in the kingdom is my fault!” 

“It is.”

 “How can I not feel guilty, then?” 

“You have to feel confident that your actions are the best,” Tindwyl explained. “You have to know that no matter how bad things get, they would be worse without you. When disaster occurs, you take responsibility, but you don’t wallow or mope. You aren’t allowed that luxury; guilt is for lesser men. You simply need to do what is expected.” 

“And that is?” 

“To make everything better.” 

“Great,” Elend said flatly. “And if I fail?” 

“Then you accept responsibility, and make everything better on the second try.” Elend rolled his eyes. 

“And what if I can’t ever make things better? What if I’m really not the best man to be king?” 

“Then you remove yourself from the position,” Tindwyl said.

________

“Arrogance, Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said. “Successful leaders all share one common trait—they believe that they can do a better job than the alternatives. Humility is fine when considering your responsibility and duty, but when it comes time to make a decision, you must not question yourself.”

________

Elend held up a hand. “Enough,” he said. ‘This line of discussion is useless.” Breeze snorted, but fell silent. Tindwyl is right, Elend thought. They will listen to me if I act like I expect them to.

________

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Vin demanded quietly. 

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Tindwyl asked.

“Because you’re mean to Elend,” Vin said. “Don’t deny it—I’ve listened in on your lessons. You spend the time insulting and disparaging him. But now you’re pretending to be nice.” 

Tindwyl smiled. “I am not pretending, child.” 

“Then why are you so mean to Elend?” 

“The lad grew up as a pampered son of a great lord,” Tindwyl said. “Now that he’s king, he needs a little harsh truth, I think.” She paused, glancing down at Vin. “I sense that you’ve had quite enough of that in your life.”
________

“You just told me you liked me how I am.” 

“I do,” Elend said. “But I’d like you however you were, Vin. I love you. The question is, how do you like yourself?” That gave her pause. 

“Clothing doesn’t really change a man,” Elend said. “But it changes how others react to him. Tindwyl’s words. I think … I think the trick is convincing yourself that you deserve the reactions you get. You can wear the court’s dresses, Vin, but make them your own. Don’t worry that you aren’t giving people what they want. Give them who you are, and let that be enough.” He paused, smiling. “It was for me.”

________

“I apologize for treating you with disrespect, Your Majesty,” she said. Elend frowned. Wasn’t expecting that. “I have a habit of treating people like children,” Tindwyl said. “It is not something that I should be proud of, I think.” 

“It’s—” Elend paused. Tindwyl had taught him never to excuse people’s failings. He could accept people with failings—even forgive them—but if he glossed over the problems, then they would never change. “I accept your apology,” he said. 

“You’ve learned quickly, Your Majesty.”

________

“... I still do not believe that your duty is to do as the people wish. Your duty is to lead as best you can, following the dictates of your conscience. You must be true, Your Majesty, to the man you wish to become. If that man is not whom the people wish to have lead them, then they will choose someone else.” …Sazed’s words were really just a rephrasing of things Tindwyl had said about trusting oneself, but Sazed’s explanation seemed a better one. A more honest one.

Book Review: Babel

Babel, Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution
Written by R. F. Kuang in 2022

Synopsis: Robin Swift is a Chinese orphan rescued by Oxford professor Richard Lovell and molded into Lovell’s language prodigy in order to enroll at the Royal Institute of Translation. Here Robin and his classmates learn the art of silverworking, enchanting silver bars for a variety of magical effects by inscribing them with matching words from different languages. When Robin realizes that this magic technology will be used to extort his homeland, he must decide where his ethics and allegiance lie.

Review: To misquote the esteemed Dr. Doofenshmirtz, if I had a nickel for every time I read a book wherein a friend group of Classics students need to cover up a murder, I would have two nickels—which isn’t a lot, but it’s strange that it happened twice. Babel, however, outshines The Secret History, and its higher stakes lead to more (and more meaningful) violence.

Babel focuses mostly on Robin but fleshes out his three classmates as main characters with their own backstory chapters. Kuang wields the ensemble cast exceptionally, illuminating each of their decisions as jointly informed by their own struggles and the influence of their friends. With each student coming from a different ethnic and cultural background, the cast builds solidarity from the discrimination they all face in 1830s England, but remain unable to completely understand each other’s experiences. The plot naturally flows from the people, as opposed to being an externally imposed fantasy threat, and I’ll remember these characters as strongly as if I attended Oxford with them.

I was commanded to read Babel by my peers because of its linguistics-based magic. Unfortunately, Kuang’s silverworking loses all the cinematic glory the author created in the Poppy War trilogy. The fact that each bar utilizes different words means every single usage of magic requires a character to explain exactly how it works, which cripples every action scene and makes the reader’s understanding lag behind the characters’.

This density worsens with the academic structure of Babel, as hinted at by the long title. Kuang includes footnotes, half with true history and half specific to this world. These add little to the plot and instead only hammer in Kuang’s anti-imperialist views. The story shows England’s exploitation of non-Western nations and the complicity of academia in power structures plenty fine, and stating it outright, repeatedly, on top of that will likely alienate moderate readers rather than widen their perspective on history.

Strengths:

• The painfully strained relationship between Robin and Lovell, and its eventual catharsis, is a gripping throughline of the novel.

• The ending could have been cheesy in another author’s hands, but Kuang fleshes out the symbolism with a captivating, drawn-out siege.

Weaknesses:

• Victoire’s ending seems like it is meant to be cautiously optimistic, but the actual circumstances laid out suggest it can only go horribly wrong.

Rating: 17/20 magical cures with planned obsolescence

Ideal Setting: Read this when you next find yourself drawing on a foreign expression to say something that English doesn’t quite capture.

Book Review: Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

Written by Gabrielle Zevin in 2022

Synopsis: Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (hereinafter TTT) traces the lives of Sam Masur and Sadie Green, childhood friends who start a successful video game company after reuniting in college.

Review: Zevin displays incredible skill at filling in the details of characters’ lives, and TTT could be convincingly passed off as a biography. The novel is incredibly sad at times, and Sam and Sadie are constantly in conflict over issues that are frustrating to watch yet understandable for their ages. Their tragedies and miscommunications alike feel authentic (I’m used to these situations being forced and used just to generate reader sympathy or unnecessary tension), and I’m glad that things don’t work out perfectly in the end. TTT kept me immersed in its main characters and was difficult to put down.

Aside from one chapter that narrates from within the perspective of a game, and a little too much internal dialogue early on lamenting that real people are so much more complicated than virtual ones, Zevin generally did not romanticize the video game backdrop of the story. Her writing suggests ample research on both the industry and insight into the challenges of publishing creative work. My mom and I enjoyed the book equally despite our opposite levels of knowledge on video games, and I’d even call it educational.

Strengths:

• Every character is fleshed out, and their relationships are organic.

• Zevin skillfully bounces a bit in time, allowing the reader to appreciate what both main characters were feeling in a particular moment.

Weaknesses:

• The very end is sappy and unnecessary, with the emotional ending hitting a few pages prior.

• Again, nobody thinks like this: “...and Sam tried to figure out a way to make her stop. If this were a game, he could hit pause. He could restart, say different things, the right ones this time.”

Rating: 19/20 Donkey Kong stages

Ideal Setting: Read this when you’re curious about the blood, sweat, and tears that went into a masterpiece.

Sequel Roundup

Here I’ll review the rest of each series for three books I’ve previously posted.

I unintentionally began reading two fantasy trilogies in parallel during the last three months. While waiting for the second Poppy War book (call it PW2 for the moment) from the library, I started Mistborn. Then PW2 became available before Mistborn2, which itself came in before PW3.

This order unexpectedly improved my experience of reading both series. The books invite obvious comparisons: one villain in the middle of each trilogy is a nobleman whose son, heir to his father’s title, is the love interest of the female protagonist. PW’s Rin and Mistborn’s Vin, despite their hilariously nearly identical names, brought very different mindsets to their shared conflicts, and seeing them side by side taught me more about their overall emotional states. In this case, Rin jarringly realizes in the final moments that she is attracted to the father as well as the son, making her motivations more about emotions she needs to sort through than the war she’s explicitly fighting. Vin instead sees as time goes on that the father is the opposite of the son’s personality, helping her put aside her moral uncertainty and do what needs to be done for the kingdom.

I’ve never been someone who can read two books simultaneously, and I can happily plow through a good, 10-book series without wanting to break for another story. Now, however, I’m more open to pairing books together like wines and cheeses, and will be on the lookout for series that can play off one another.

___

The Poppy War Trilogy: The Dragon Republic, and The Burning God

Written by R. F. Kuang

Book 1 Rating: 19/20     Series Rating: 17/20

This historical fantasy whose flawed protagonist is struggling to survive a war only gets darker as it goes on. It was difficult but believable to watch Rin make one mistake after another, always costing lives in the process, as the author turns a fantasy trope on its head by showing how poorly a supernaturally-gifted, traumatized teen would actually lead if given the opportunity.

The series lost some steam in the third act, with repetitive internal dialogue and too many squandered opportunities to kill villains. That said, the alien treatment of the British, and the serious explanations of war strategy and how soldiers must compartmentalize to justify the bloodshed, make the trilogy worth seeing through. The Poppy War remains one of the most unique fantasy series I’ve read.

___

Mistborn: The Well of Ascension, and The Hero of Ages

Written by Brandon Sanderson

Book 1 Rating: 19/20     Series Rating: 19/20

This series escalated incredibly well into its second book, fleshing out two members of the ensemble who weren’t yet members of the team until the end of the first book and continuing to creatively play with the tripartite magic system. One character’s growth from an idealist noble teen into a naive king trying to rule from his heart, and the genuinely helpful lessons from the person teaching him to command respect, were so much fun to follow, and the protagonists’ romantic relationships grounded the continually widening scope of the plot.

However, the third book lost this momentum for me. The trope that all of the characters’ earlier actions were driven/orchestrated by the final villain took away from everyone’s agency and past accomplishments. Spreading the ensemble cast into four groups in multiple cities meant there were literally four plots to follow, and deprived the book of an emotional center. On the worldbuilding front, Sanderson explains in depth every single aspect of this world that he’d introduced in the first. While some of these were mysteries I was glad to resolve, many were minor details or were much grander questions for the characters than for the reader. I could feel the author’s excitement building as the story rumbled forward, yet I couldn’t match it.

While I disagree with many of Sanderson’s big choices here, all are written well, and it’s still a fun ride through the end of this trilogy. I won’t be picking up the sequel series though.

___

The Dawn of Yangchen (Chronicles of the Avatar, Book 3)

By F. C. Yee

Book 1-2 Rating: 18/20     Series Rating: 15/20

For fans who have followed all Avatar: The Last Airbender content as it’s been released, Yangchen is the 7th Avatar we meet (each show and the previous books have one protagonist Avatar and one predecessor whose life is explored in-depth to guide the protagonist). This history created an immense challenge for the author to give us someone and something new. While Yee succeeds, this novel comes at the loss of the critical emotions of Avatar stories that fans are coming back for. Yangchen lacks friends and mentors, and the end of this chapter provides a tenuous plot resolution that neither satisfies nor makes me excited to learn more.

What works here are the bending scenes, combat and otherwise; and the clever introduction of an exciting side character from the original series. A few other unique ideas, namely Yangchen’s dissociative episodes with her past lives, are made flashy at the beginning but then stay undeveloped despite their narrative potential. Ultimately, The Dawn of Yangchen is enjoyable but unlikely to become anyone’s favorite.

Book Review: How to Take Over the World

How to Take Over the World: Practical Schemes and Scientific Solutions for the Aspiring Supervillain
Written by Ryan North in 2022

Synopsis:

“It would be easy—too easy—in writing these heists to assure you of my own confidence that they’ll work. The end result would be you thinking me a poor deluded egoist, some lost soul high on the fumes of his own imagination. This is fair. So instead, I have chosen a much more difficult but rewarding task. I won’t convince you that I could pull off these heists.

I’m going to convince you that you can.

This text is your supervillain education, and it begins right now.”

Covering topics such as cloning dinosaurs, digging to the center of the Earth to hold it hostage, and living forever, How to Take Over the World is a hilarious yet not-all-that-ridiculous guide to delusions of grandeur. Presented as a genuine resource, each chapter includes an executive summary, budget, and consequences if you’re caught.

Review: I had a blast with this book. North approaches childish ideas with scientific rigor and often highly intellectual humor, and the author’s own excitement conveyed in his many tangents, sidebars, and footnotes is infectious.

I follow three webcomic artists with a scientific background who have recently written a pop science book (Ryan North: "Dinosaur Comics", Randall Munroe: "XKCD", and Zach Weinersmith: "Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal"). I’ve read parts of Munroe’s What If, and, while its short, punchy chapters about all sorts of questions are entertaining, North’s choices to stick to a unifying theme and directly advise the reader gave the book much more heart. I’ve forgotten each of the answers I enjoyed in What If, whereas I know some parts of How to Take Over the World will stick with me forever. Most notably, the final chapter addresses how to leave a message for the future. North outlines a new detailed plan for each logarithmic increase in time: 1 year, 10 years, 100 years, up to 100,000,000,000 years. The steady walkthrough left me marveling at the universe and laughing at the same time—and North’s writing implies this has been his motivation all along.

Strengths:

• The book gives the reader the ego of a supervillain. It’s a lot of fun to be addressed in this manner: “Without exception, everyone who thought they’d found a path to immortality was absolutely wrong, this idea has a failure rate of 100%, and not even a single human being has managed to live forever in the 13.8 billion years the universe has existed. Not one. But then again, it’s equally true to say that in all those 13.8 billion years, there’s never been a human being quite like you.”

• North’s explanations of computer architecture (in discussing how to destroy the internet) and high-frequency trading were helpful frameworks, and generally the author conveys complex information effectively.

Weaknesses:

• Many of the illustrations and captions are weak and could’ve been left out. However, they’re worth it for the joke that introduces them: “Illustrations by Carly Monardo, an associate of mine, are peppered throughout the text because illustrations rule and authors who keep pictures out of their books are cowards, terrified that their slight words will be upstaged by any proximity to an intuitive, evocative, and honestly more charming visual medium.”

• The Time Travel chapter fell flat for me.

• North shies away from mentioning anything legitimately harmful to maintain the book’s wholesome tone. His discussion of climate change and a few other ethical tangents are forced into an otherwise smooth read, and they may not have the desired effect of educating readers on the issues North wants to discuss.

Rating: 17/20 loopholes in the international treaties surrounding Antarctica

Ideal Setting: Read this book when news about politics gets you thinking, “I could run society so much better than this.”

Book Review: The Final Empire

Mistborn: The Final Empire
Written by Brandon Sanderson, 2006

Synopsis: Left to pay off her brother’s debt to a thieving crew, Vin can’t imagine any life beyond starving in Luthadel’s underground. Everything promises to change, however, when she’s recruited by another crew to help pull off the greatest job in history. The charismatic Kelsier believes he can overthrow the immortal, omnipotent Lord Ruler and improve the lives of the oppressed skaa race across the empire. That gives Vin one year to infiltrate high society and to master the eight magic abilities she possesses as a Mistborn, while her comrades raise an army and dismantle Luthadel’s garrison. It’s an impossible mission. Especially for a skaa orphan.

Review: Of course, the first book of this instant classic fantasy trilogy follows an orphan who later finds out she has noble blood and incredibly strong magic. However, Sanderson has protagonist Vin share the spotlight with a team of well-developed characters—one of whom, Kelsier, has just as much claim to be the story’s main character. Kelsier and his crew fill what turned out to be a huge gap in fantasy: middle-aged characters, old enough to have cultivated their powers but young enough to excitedly participate in the action and make mistakes while doing so. The dynamic between Kelsier, a lifetime eccentric and only recently a hero, and his brother who labored silently for decades to help skaa, was especially clever.

While I’m unhappy with Vin’s cliche extra strength in the final battle, the magic system in The Final Empire was otherwise fair and unique. Kelsier and Vin have access to more abilities than most other characters, but those forced to specialize are much more powerful in their niche. The lesson each crew member gives Vin about his ability also shows his distinct worldview, serving as a clever device to bring the reader further into these characters and the magic at the same time.

On the whole, Sanderson’s pacing is perfect. Emergencies that surprise the characters similarly interrupt the reader’s expectations for a scene, and the book feels like it takes place over the full year that the plot describes, rather than having long gaps between stand-out days. Sanderson also intentionally opens up new questions about the world as he answers others. I walked away from the last page with closure for the plot but ongoing concerns about the magic and history, which I’m motivated to explore in the rest of the trilogy.

Strengths:

• Every death had weight. We watch characters wrestle with both grief and with the practical concerns that losing that specific person created. Compared with most action movies just flaring a character's drive for vengeance, the shift in attitudes here was more nuanced and evolved over time.

• It’s worth restating how well Sanderson wielded a team of characters, many of whom participate off-screen.

Weaknesses: 

• Some readers will be bothered by not fully understanding how characters’ powers work until more than halfway through the book.

• For all the sense that the magic system ultimately made, it could’ve made a little more.

Rating: 19/20 different skeletons making up one mistwraith

Ideal Setting: Read this when you’re sick of traditional chosen-one stories.

Book Review: The Poppy War

The Poppy War
Written by R. F. Kuang in 2018

Synopsis: In this grimdark historical fantasy based on conflicts between China and Japan, war orphan Rin sacrifices everything to earn her way into her nation’s most prestigious military school, her only shot at a better life. At Sinegard Academy, however, Rin is only ostracized further, forcing her to turn to an insane teacher and his esoteric practices if she hopes to stay enrolled and serve in the impending war. 

Review: I don’t mind mentioning in the synopsis that Rin gets accepted into Sinegard, because a protagonist’s success in this particular near-impossible challenge has become a trope. The skeleton of the first half of the book is all predictable, despite Rin’s challenges being presented as having an unknown outcome for her and the other characters. However, the flesh around these known plot beats is still well-written. And by the second half, the plot and its characters have grown out of their shells into something breathtakingly unique.

Rin, for example, doesn’t initially possess any talents beyond dedication, a quality shown to harm her as much as it helps. Starting with burning herself with wax to stay awake all night studying, Rin aggressively scrubs off the underdog hero that young readers (including me) dream we would be, to reveal a distinct person with serious flaws and choices I never expected.

It’s difficult to describe the rest of the book without spoiling anything, and both the plot and the fantasy element are made stronger for how they are steadily introduced—knowing them in advance would ruin the fun. Save to say, Kuang’s debut novel proves that, for a savvy author, there’s still new ground to tread in this wrung-out genre, and I’m excited to read the rest of the trilogy.

Strengths:

• Opium addiction is an interesting, respectfully treated background element throughout the novel.

• Two enemies end up fighting back-to-back against a truer enemy. Their relationship made me want this dynamic in every speculative fiction story from here on out.

Weaknesses:

• The mentor character is the most recent victim to a writing choice that’s bothered me a lot recently. The author starts out with absurd or surreal humor, then tries to use that character/element for a serious plot purpose. I always end up feeling a bit cheated and needing to forget earlier descriptions in order to stay engaged with later ones.

Rating: 19/20 prisoners of the Chuluu Korikh

Ideal Setting: Read this after a conversation about spirituality.