Zeb Larson reviews Autumnlands #9…
Sheep. Beer. Mountain. TROUBLE.
Autumnlands is back after another relatively long hiatus, but it returns in excellent form and with an apology for its tardiness. Learoyd and Dusty spend time in the town of the sheep, where they learn about a mysterious problem plaguing the townsfolk. They’re given an opportunity to play the hero, but as always in this book, heroism is not a simple or easy thing to understand. Implicitly, it asks why heroes do what they do, and it suggests that the motivation is more complicated than wanting to be a do-gooder. I will be discussing spoilers from here on out.
Learoyd and Dusty awaken in the town of Erries, a sheep-town more reminiscent of merry old England than anywhere else they’ve been. The inhabitants believe our two heroes are wizards and ask for their assistance in solving a problem. Mysterious lights on a nearby mountain have suddenly led to an upsurge in illnesses among their livestock, children and elderly. For perhaps the first time, Learoyd actually starts to act like he belongs here, and after an enormous feast in their honor, the two set off for the mountain to figure out what’s happening.
Overall, this is an extremely strong issue. The focus is solely on Learoyd and Dusty, and while I enjoy the politicking of the skyborne animals, just spending this issue with these two works really well. The art in the village is nothing if not charming, though we get a few great weird touches with the dinosaur/dragon beasts of burden the sheepmen use. There’s also a classic sort of fantasy feel to this issue: our heroes roll into town to find the good townsfolk suffering from a magical problem and go off to help. Of course, it also complicates that Dungeons and Dragons vibe when Dusty can’t figure out exactly why Learoyd wants to help. Learoyd might be good, but he’s not Lawful Good, and as much as he might enjoy helping people…he also enjoys danger. Adventurers like these two are, in a sense, insane: they take risks ordinary people would not for reasons that would not make sense to the townsfolk.
The village is also a place for Dusty to try and reckon with the way of life he was taught by his father up until now. We as readers collectively knew that the magic-wielding beasts exploited the ground-dwellers somewhat, but Dusty is confronted with that fact. His father dismissed ground-dwellers as stupid beasts, but these people have dignity and love, and Dusty can’t just view them as a commodity to be exploited. There are a few lighter moments with this too: visiting the town means that he learns where wool comes from. What will happen when he learns more about cheese?
I hadn’t really thought about the theme of fatherhood in this story, in no small part because Dusty just hasn’t had much time to reflect on his father’s sayings. But that is what’s going on here. The worldview his father bestowed is slowly being dismantled one piece at a time. Learoyd is becoming a sort of father figure to Dusty, although the lessons he imparts have a certain brutal honesty to them. He has an affectionate relationship with him, but in a certain sense he’s also frightened of him. Is this what fatherhood is?
Please come back sooner next time, Autumnlands. There aren’t nearly enough books doing fantasy very well, and we need you.
Rating: 9.3/10
Zeb Larson
https://youtu.be/XUGnM460Waw?list=PL18yMRIfoszEaHYNDTy5C-cH9Oa2gN5ng
