Joe Ducie’s Distant Star reads a little bit like a Harry Dresden novel, but the comparison lacks. Distant Star is grittier, flourishing, and a touch alcoholic. The imagery is evocative of King’s Dark Tower
series. The story revolves around Declan Hale, a Knight Infernal, who
is exiled from Ascension City to True Earth for his horrendous, albeit
necessary, crimes during the Tome War. After his exile, Declan opens a
bookshop in Perth, Australia, and lives his days in relative peace until
that calm is broken by a calling card from the future, one that drives
him back to old habits and Ascension City, where tensions run high and
war is imminent.
Declan’s world –a multiverse, really–
contains individuals that possess Will (magic). Some of those with Will
write stories that because of the Story Thread become separate worlds,
places that other people with Will, like the Knights and Renegades, can
walk in and out of. While the setting and atmosphere denote a
contemporary urban fantasy, there is an element of the mythical from
fabled Atlantis to universes spinning in the void. The story starts off
within the urban sphere and shifts towards the otherworldly as Declan
slides down the gradient from archetypal reluctance to proactive
heroics. Declan is a powerful hero and he justifiably intimidates
friends and foes alike, but he is not a deus ex machina that is
undefeatable, indefatigable, and all-powerful. It’s not like he can’t
die.
The character himself is intriguing. Declan
is like the Doctor, Dresden, and two fingers of scotch. He is the
quintessential war-wearied and reminiscent exile. The inner monologues
are insightful and often poetic; they explore his humanity and sanity,
his unyielding arrogance and quest for redemption, the greater reaches
of a universe that he is on the fringes of, and the complex machinations
of the people around him. Undoubtedly, Declan Hale is the most
fully-fleshed out character, and through his eyes, we get a glimpse of
his lost love, Tal Levy. That’s the other thing about Distant Star:
it’s not just a fantasy adventure. This is, at its heart, a love story.
Ethan is the reader stand-in through who Declan exposits the nature of
their abilities and some background history. Sophie, Tal’s sister, made
no particularly strong impression on me. Nor did King Morpheus Renegade.
Marcus’ unbending sense of right and wrong over notions of loyalty make
him one to watch out for. Perhaps it’s just because I like villains and
bad girls because the other two characters to strike a chord were Jon
Faraday and the Immortal Queen. The former is not evil per se, but he
has consolidated his hold on power, a hold that is threatened by our
exiled protagonist. The impression Faraday makes is that however
misguided his intentions, however ruthless his actions, he does it for
the greater good. With the Immortal Queen, however, all bets are off.
She could just be a cutthroat, evil bitch. As King Morpheus’ wife, her
intent and purpose among the Renegades are in question, along with
everything else we know about her.
Ducie’s writing is concise and vivid,
sensational for certain, depthful in its brevity. His tone affects
melancholy, a sharp juxtaposition to the gold Australian setting. The
places he visits, that he dares to show us, are portrayed with all the
trappings of truly opulent grandeur. It’s hard not to get hooked on this
book. Its largest flaw is that it didn’t last as long as Martin’s A Storm of Swords.
The novel plays the conventions of fantasy
really well, and references a huge sweep of literature and pop culture.
There are allusions to Harry Potter (this is magic, how could
there not be?), Tolkien, mythology, Holmes. Fittingly so, considering
this is a book about books. I even got a hint of Doctor Who
about the Tome War, which remind me so poignantly of the legendary Last
Great Time War that the Doctor, like Declan Hale, played a central role
in ending by committing a terrible act. That being said, Distant Star is unique from all those works, swapping concepts and crafting a story worthy of attention.
