Elantris is a fantasy novel about a country on the verge of takeover by an ethnonationalist, religious state. In the shadow of a once powerful city, Elantris, the characters vie for control of a smaller city called Kae.
The story tracked three characters. The first was Raoden, a prince afflicted by a disease that left him disfigured and without a pulse. He was quarantined in Elantris with others in a similar zombie-like state. The second was the prince’s should-have-been wife, Sarene. She was plotting and scheming in Kae to prevent it from falling to the Fjorell invaders. Finally, there was Hrathen. Something like an ambassador, soldier, and cardinal mixed into one, he represented the Fjorell invaders. Hrathen’s storyline was by far the most interesting of the three and it was not close.
Raoden and Sarene were the same at the book’s end as they were at its start: flat, repetitious, boring. Raoden was a white knight thrown into a bad situation. Sarene was a strong, independent woman longing for human connection. Both were repeatedly getting the better of those around them – winning their political battles and proving themselves virtue-signaling “good guys.” Neither did nor said anything outside their narrow set of pre-defined views and goals.
Hrathen, by contrast, evolved in unexpected and interesting ways. He, too, dominated the lesser characters that surrounded him… until he did not. He was a devout follower of the Fjorell religion… until he was not. The Hrathen of one chapter would adapt and shift by the next – it was impossible to predict whether he would be self-assured or insecure, deflated or scheming. In the novel’s most interesting portions, Hrathen questioned his own faith and doubted his reasons for joining the Fjorell religion in the first place. He contrasted his own logical, clinically religious devotion with the blind passion of younger members, feeling himself inadequate. Unfortunately, besides Hrathen, the characters of Elantris were consistently rigid.
Besides the characters, Elantris is definable by its Sanderson-esque “magic system”: an alternate, internally consistent set of physics. In this novel it was the “Dor”: an omnipotent energy potential that Elantrians could direct toward their targets via “Aons”: signs painted in the air. The shapes of an Aon determined itseffect and each was extensible via modifiers.
But despite their description and buildup, Aons were largely irrelevant until the final pages. Their reveal was telegraphed and discussed for well over half the novel – each chapter I hoped was the one that would finally feature Aon-usage – but they were withheld until the book couldn’t progress (to a positive ending) without them. It was as if Harry Potter had been taught about the idea of magic for seven books and then suddenly used it for the first time in his duel against Voldemort. In Elantris, I would have preferred either much more of the magic or its total removal with a concomitant darker ending.
Given Sanderson’s fame, I was disappointed by the boring, unidimensional characters of Elantris. That plus the dearth of magic left little for the book to stand on. Because I trust Sanderon’s recommenders and want to understand the hype, I am going to give him another try with Mistborn.