The Chronicles of Amber Volume 2 - Roger Zelazny

Volume 2 contains the other three books in the series: Sign of the Unicorn, The Hand of Oberon, and The Courts of Chaos. Picking up where the second book ended, with Corwin having arrived to help defend Amber, and his brother Eric perishing at the end of the battle. It wasn't a clearcut victory, though, as a mysterious figure gained power to move through shadow as well.

Corwin doesn't try to assume command - too many of his siblings mistrust him for that - but he still tries to take steps to defend Amber against the attackers traveling the black road. But there are good reasons to be wary of his family, if he could just figure out which ones to beware of. Much of the three stories get taken up with exposition about alliances, betrayals, double-crosses, and the like. Because one character will tell Corwin one version of a story, only for another one to tell a different version, it starts to add up. So that gets a little tedious.

Although at least I can understand what's happening during those info dumps (beyond confusing Corwin's sisters, Fiona and Flora). When Zelazny tries describing the realms ruled by the Courts of Chaos, I can't picture what he's going for. Maybe I simply wasn't interested enough to make the effort.

The characters are meant to seem as though they've grown, that Corwin's impressions of them from the days before he'd lost his memory, the old grudges they held, aren't necessarily true. Basically, all these kids have finally, after some vast amount of time, grown up and set the petty squabbles aside. Although, since the story is written entirely from Corwin's p.o.v., it's fair to wonder if he simply didn't understand some of them before. But there are enough disagreements between all of them, that it's meant to be accurate.

As with a lot of stories, I was more interested at the beginning, when the possible directions it could go were infinite, than once an actual path had been chosen.

'"Nothing has changed! You are afraid to try it!"

"Perhaps," I said. "But do you not feel that something for which you have given so much is worth some effort - some additional sacrifice - if there is even a possibility of saving it?"

"You still do not understand," he said. "I cannot but think that a damaged thing should be destroyed - and hopefully replaced. The nature of my personal injury is such that I cannot envision repair. I am damaged in just this fashion. My feelings are foreordained."'