Review: Gentlemen of the Road

It's Friday, and I promised a review of a book that didn't suck.

A caveat, before we begin: I've never done any kind of serious book reviewing before. This isn't going to read like something in the New York Review of Books or Publishers Weekly. My experience is in handselling, and that's how I'm going to attempt to approach these Friday reviews - like you're a customer who has wandered into my store and said, "What's good?"

Okay?

Okay.

It's fitting, then, that this first book, Michael Chabon's Gentlemen of the Road, came to me as a recommendation from Marty and another friend.

It's possible that I was predisposed to love it - I devoured The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. However, where that book was set in New York during the Golden Age of comics, Gentlemen of the Road brings us all the way back to 950AD.

Pardon my awkwardness with a synopsis - I don't want to give too much away. Amram and Zelikman are the gentlemen of the title, though they are joined by others on the way. They are travelers, brothers at heart, but not blood relations. They are fighting men and occasional swindlers - whatever earns them enough to continue on their adventures. They also - Amram especially, but Zelikman, too - have a habit of doing the right thing. Which is, of course, what sets the tale in motion. There's a boy, you see - not quite a man - and he was a prince, until his father was overthrown. Amram and Zelikman are tasked with bringing him to the safety of family to the south, but the boy, Filaq, slips away with the intention of returning home and seeking vengeance.

There's your first chapter or two.

I am a sucker for the lonely characters, the good-natured not-quite villains who know they are flawed and live with it - or despite it, or because of it. Zelikman (and his appreciation for a good hat) had me hooked from the start. He's prone to bouts of melancholy, and has a sword that is mostly a thin, pointed bit of metal named Lancet. And a loyal horse named Hillel. I can't help it. He's one of those characters I fall in love with, just a little bit. Maybe someday I'll share a few of the others; some of you probably can guess a few of them.

Chabon's narration is nothing short of breathtaking. He takes his time with a scene, occasionally digressing just long enough to enrich the original point. Points of view switch seamlessly, not breaking the overall voice.
The story itself is finely crafted, leading you along on their journey and, yes, once or twice breaking your heart, just a bit.** There are writers who can weave poetry into prose, and Chabon is one of them. The story is a twisting adventure, loyalties changing (though never, truly, Amram's or Zelikman's), battles fought, and every page is a kind of verse.

Gary Gianni's black and white illustrations are gorgeous, too. It should be no surprise that the ones I liked best were the ones featuring Zelikman.

I'm drifting dangerously into talking about things that are spoilers - there are rousing speeches and heroism (big and small), rescues and chases and redemptions, and the whole thing leaves you wanting more. I don't know if Chabon plans on returning to these characters in the future, but if he does, I will be there at the bookstore on the laydown date, and the cover will be opened before I'm even out of the store.


**Get used to this: I gravitate towards books that break my heart.