I thought I would write about the second book of The Battles for Lukomorye a bit later, but then the media started saying that we need to talk more about the heroes of Russian fairy tales — about the likes of Dobrynya and Muromets. Well then, let’s write. Though in reality, the heroes were not nearly as noble as they appear in the tales.
I read the first part of this cycle a year ago and at that time also wrote down my thoughts about the book.
The Battle for Lukomorye is a fictional cycle set in the world of Tales of Old Rus’, which originally began as more of an art project by Roman Papsuev. The last time I thought it was a novel in two parts (since there was already word about plans for a second book). In fact, it turned out that the story does not end with the second volume.
I have already written about this world before, so I will not repeat myself in detail. In short, it is a world built on the motifs of Slavic fairy tales and folklore. The book The Battle for Lukomorye tells of events when the dark forces once again attempt to break into Rus’, while brave Rusichi (and other inhabitants of Belosvetie) strive to resist the followers of Chernobog, remembering how hard the struggle had been the last time, when only at great cost were they able to drive back the hordes of Koschei the Deathless.
The book is still promoted under just two names — Roman Papsuev himself and Vera Kamsha — although the listed authors also include Tatyana Andrushchenko, Alexandra Zlotnitskaya, and Elena Tolokonnikova. At the same time, The Battle for Lukomorye is a collection of novellas. There are several heroes in the book. Perhaps the most important is Alyosha Popovich, at least because the greater part of these novellas is devoted to him, and Alyosha clearly has a “mission,” where he must figure out why evil has suddenly run rampant. The second hero is an evil sorcerer whose name you are unlikely to remember after reading (but it is Ognegor). Although he has the clearest and most understandable goal, he is given only short scenes between the novellas. In the second book, Dobrynya Nikitich also comes a little more to the forefront. There is also Sadko, but whether in the first or the second book, he seems to be thrown in just “to be there,” with no real sense of why.
And it is precisely this lack of coherence in the storylines that troubles me. Sadko, for example, is a colorful character with a “tolerant” crew that includes not only Rusichi but also not even only humans. Yet his stories are in no way connected to the main plot of the book. Remove them — and the narrative would not suffer in the slightest. It is a completely separate tale, and moreover a retelling of other Eastern fairy tales. For me, the most boring part. Perhaps later on his storyline will intersect with those of the other heroes. But two books are already behind us!
Roughly the same goes for Yelena the Wise — she too stands on her own. And the story about her is rather dull, since it is unclear why we need all these retellings of the well-known tale of the Frog Princess, padded with the events of some childhood sorcerer. And then there are the little jokes about a crowd of dwarves… fourteen bearded runts who came for a dragon’s treasure… I didn’t get why The Hobbit had to be dragged in here.
The same applies to the forces of evil. Evil is the main antagonist of the book. Yet too little attention is given to it. Yes, they are plotting something. Yes, they care nothing for life. Yes, they are wicked and vile. But it is all too one-dimensional. In his artbook Roman Papsuev described the various malicious races and those who sided with Chernobog in very engaging detail. But in the book there is very little of this. And yet for Koschei, for instance, the author came up with a magnificent story of his transformation into the Deathless in the artbook. But all the little details surrounding the main antagonist — Ognegor — work not so much for his storyline as to show, “and here are some other creatures that exist in this world.” But without illustrations, as in the artbook, it is sometimes hard to picture them all, especially what makes a Kuzutik different from a Tekri (after all, such names are not exactly ones you’ve been familiar with since childhood).
The main storyline is interesting when it shifts into something resembling a detective plot, where the heroes try to figure out what is happening and who is behind all the events. In addition to Alyosha, as I already mentioned, there is also the line of Dobrynya Nikitich, tied to politics and secrets. But this sometimes gets blurred behind a pretty facade, and so I read the second book much more slowly than the first. A bit dull, without spark.
And the Rusichi are portrayed as utterly righteous and honorable, while the moment you cross the border — there are embezzlers, filth, corruption, and oppressed common folk. Not like us, in Rus’! It feels like a dream of what the ancestors from tales and legends could have been, though in reality everything was far more prosaic and dirty. A beautiful fairy tale, but too much of a fairy tale. Especially considering that the historical Dobrynya (who later became the prototype for the epic bogatyr) was quite a scoundrel. For example, he ordered Vladimir and his retinue to rape Princess Rogneda in front of her parents, after which her parents and brothers were killed (is this the Dobrynya we should be glorifying now?). The book’s Dobrynya, of course, comes out much more noble.
To sum up, this is still a collection of novellas that are at times only loosely connected. There is a main storyline, but it sometimes begins to slip away. And it does not conclude in this book, but cuts off mid-sentence. So there will almost certainly be at least a third volume.
I will most likely read the next one as well, but my expectations for the cycle have dimmed considerably.
My rating: 3.5/5
