An Atrocity of Love: My Review of Joe Abercrombie’s “First Law Trilogy”

Part 1: In Which I Apologize for What is to Follow

I have a problem.

In the very same way that some people are born with a certain affinity for mathematical patterns, musical notes, or chess stratagems… I see absurdity.

Everywhere I look.

When I see a skyscraper, I do not marvel at the engineer who put pen to paper and tore structure out of chaos. Instead, I hear the racist and sexist jokes of the construction workers echoing out of every welded joint, ascending column, and every spanning beam. I think of all the people inside having all kinds of hilarious accidents. Mostly, I just see one giant penis joke waiting to happen.*

While this may make me a terrible human being, a lousy friend, as well as impossible to mate with… it ALSO makes me very very very bad at reviewing books I enjoy. I mean horrendously awful. Tearing out a book’s pages to be used as toilet paper would be better than to suffer the desecration that is my love.

In that spirit, I will now review “The First Law” trilogy by Joe Abercrombie. I justify this to myself because even though there is no way my review will do the material justice, provide any helpful insight, or even really be about “The First Law” trilogy, it may inspire a few of you to actually go out and by it.

I read hundreds of books a year and have never bought a book based upon a straight review. I have no idea what the hell this is going to be, but hopefully it will inspire you to go out and do the right thing….

Which now that I think of it is probably to lead a good life and hurt no one. But ALSO, you should buy the books of “The First Law” trilogy.

*This tendency will be carried to its logical conclusion in section 3 of the review.

Part 2: Meet the Crew

The “First Law Trilogy” is filled with an unforgettable cast of characters, whom I will now introduce in as poor a manner as possible.

Logen Ninefingers

How does one even begin to explain Logen Ninefingers?

I find that I must fall upon the following analogy:

Logen Ninefingers is like Chuck Norris, Rambo, the Terminator, and Bruce Lee all had a child… and then Logen Ninefingers came along and killed that child.

Because really, what would that child even look like? You can’t just have two actors and two fictional characters jizz in a single pile and expect it to congeal into something that isn’t evil. At the very least it would probably smell like sawdust and chlorine on a level I can’t even begin to imagine.

Thank God, we have a person like Logen Ninefingers around to murder hypothetical children used to describe other people.

On a more serious note, as the author of the series so articulately states, Logen Ninefingers is the “thinking man’s” barbarian. He doesn’t just run around screaming at the top of his lungs, wearing a loin cloth, and two giant leather bracelets around his wrists.* Logen Ninefingers thinks, he plans, and then he kills knowing full well what killing implies about himself.

Raised in the frigid Northlands in a culture that treasures honor, reputation, and glory Logen is a brooding sort who talks with spirits. He is good at killing precisely because he is so horrified of death that he will go to any ends to save himself, including courageous behavior.

He was far and away my favorite character in the series.

His fate will be described in the last section of this review. I can promise only that it will involve massive spoilers, torture, and a dolphin.

*Does anyone else ever wonder what’s going on with the arm shackle thing? Conan can’t be bothered to wear a fucking pair of pants but from the way he dresses himself in the morning, you would think having bare forearms was the height of indecency.

Sand dan Glokta

I get distracted very easily. When I was taking a class on linear integration, I could not help but notice that my professor seemed to be picking his ass up to his second knuckle. While the other students in the class were easily able to tune this out and focus on the theory, I found myself riveted.

I mean, Jesus. How far are you going to put your finger up your own ass while you’re proving complicated theorems?

See what I just did there? I went off an a completely unrelated tangent while trying to illustrate my tendency to go off on tangents. This meta commentary on my tangential thinking, is now that I think of it, itself a tangent.

What does this mean? Probably that I should be punched in the face.

Anyhow, Sand dan Glokta is the exact opposite of myself. The victim of years of torture his every waking moment is filled with pain. The pain of having had his teeth pulled out. The pain of walking up and down the stairs with a broken body. As well as the unbearable pain of being way too competent in a world where people inherent authority based on heredity. And he NEVER loses his razor focus.

Sand dan Glokta is like Hannibal Lecter’s less psychotic, but equally brilliant cousin. Sand dan Glokta has never, while tired, told someone in threatening tones that he was going to “wipe his face with their ass” or promise that he was going to “put his penis where his mouth is.”* He is at all times alert, and ready to plot his way out of a problem with an inventiveness that would make Batman’s mouth go dry.

Sand dan Glokta is ugly as sin, but he always has his shit together, even ironically when he has shit the bed. He’s one of those characters you can’t help but love, because even when he’s doing something atrociously wicked, he does it with a certain off-handed brilliance that balances the scales.

*I have done both of those, which aside from the time my cock fell out during a screaming match, was probably the most deflated my ego has ever been.

Bayaz First of the Magi

You know how you meet someone and you start out thinking, wow this guy is an asshole.

That’s pretty much how I felt about Bayaz when I first came across his character. I got the feeling that he was like a greedy, good for nothing, general contractor who was on the take. Buying substandard materials and grafting labor to the detriment of the whole job. A man so busy spinning plates he didn’t give a tinker’s damn where they fell or who they cut.

Then Joe Abercrombie, around book two, made me think maybe Bayaz wasn’t SUCH an asshole. Maybe he was only a lying, manipulative, dick wad because it was required to save the world. Maybe he only seemed like such a crooked general contractor, because he was secretly stealing money to pay for a soup kitchen.

And then, at the end, the double-switcheroo came full circle.

Bayaz was just an asshole.

A giant, clever asshole.

Yet still, I’m left with the feeling that where Bayaz and his arch nemesis Khalul are concerned, it’s not a battle between “Good and Evil” it’s a battle between “Shit” and “Oh SHIT!”

Jezal dan Luthar

There’s nothing worse than a guy who doesn’t have any actual problems pissing and moaning about the cards fate has dealt him.

“Oh God, two beautiful women want to fuck my brains out! How the hell am I going to choose?”

And you have to sit there, nodding while trying to figure out how to stop your mother’s house from being repossessed.

Then, the same dickwad manages to find it within himself to suppose he’ll just have to have sex with both of the beautiful women. Meanwhile, you’re emptying a change jug trying to pay for your sisters dancing lessons and you haven’t eaten in two days.

Needless to say, I did not like Jezal dan Luthar very much. He had, as much as any person who I have ever experienced through text, a very punchable face. He was a total, oblivious pompous jerk.

Yet here, Abercrombie’s genius shined through again. Jezal dan Luthar, around book two of the series became NOT a dick. He wasn’t a wonderful person by any means, but he didn’t have a punchable face anymore.

Then surprise of all surprises as my brain was fucked in half. Jezal dan Luthar got hit the face, right when he least deserved it. And when Joe Abercrombie decides someone’s going to get hit in the face, he REALLY decides they’re going to get hit in the face.

I mean: Ouch.

I won’t spoil it, but you’ll see what I mean when you come across it in the series.

Ferro

And now we arrive at the character in the series about whom I was most conflicted.

On one hand, Ferro’s family had been brutally murdered and she had been sold into prostitution while only a child. But on the other hand, Ferro was a total bitch. And not just bitchy in the way where you have to sigh and roll your eyes a lot. The kind of bitchy where you have to seriously consider buying a stun gun and tranquilizer darts.

Ferro, would you like some stew?

I would like to cut your throat, and piss down your neck.

Ferro, would you like some water?

I would like a giant pterodactyl to swoop out of the sky and sodomize you with its beak.

Ferro, would you like me to cease to exist?

No, because then it would be impossible for you to feel the pain your existence so obviously decrees that you deserve.

I was so reminded of my sister that I had to take breaks occasionally just to walk around the house being pissed off before reminding myself that Ferro was fictional, and had actual reasons to be such a bitch.

She’s like this for pages and pages on end, and wonder of wonders, it’s believable every time. Which just makes you feel really really sorry for Logen Ninefingers.

Part 3: Sudden Acute Giant Sentient Human Penialism

“My vote is for the big First Law review where you don’t look like a colossal penis. Maybe you can make me look like one instead…?”

~Joe Abercrombie or someone pretending to be him on my previous entry

“You bet your sweet ass I can”

~Me to myself, sometime in the midle of that night

How, you may be wondering, does Joe Abercrombie manage to fill his books with such incredible grit and testosterone? Surely the concentration of male sex hormones, semen, and unwavering rigidity necessary to write such books would kill a normal man.

So how does he do it?

The answer is staring you right in the face:

Joe Abercrombie is actually a Giant Sentient Human Penis (GSHP).

Oh, we’ve all hear the stories of course. Of young men struck down in their primes, falling asleep as four-limbed homo sapiens, and waking up as two balled one shafted GSHP’s.

We’ve heard how these young men have cried upon learning of their fate. Their pearlescent tears shining like dew droplets on a cold glass of milk. We’ve seen the physical therapy videos of these poor creatures, learning to walk again by expanding and contracting their shafts to ambulate along the ground like inchworms.

The following is the story of Joe Abercrombie, the most famous of all Giant Sentient Human Penises.

***Begin Flashback Montage***

A GSHP with streaks of white in its pubic hair lurks at the entrance to a gymnasium silently observing Joe Abercrombie.

We pan in on a sweaty Joe Abercrombie penis struggling along the ground, expanding and contracting. The penis is wearing a sweat band, as well as the GSHP equivalent of a tank top, and we get the impression that it’s been crawling along the mats for hours trying to move. The problem is that its testicles are so heavy it makes crawling almost impossible. It collapses, breathing heavily through its urethra.

GSHP JOE (panting through urethra): Can’t do it. Too fucking hard.

WISE GSHP: Get your lazy penis off the ground! You dishonor the gift which has been given to you!

We see now that the WISE GSHP with white pubic hair is, wonder of wonders, actually WALKING along the ground by kind of hopping up and swinging its testicles forward while its airborne. We also see a samurai style bandanna tied around its head, with a black penis in front of a red dawn set on a white background.

Joe Abercrombie looks up, his urethra frowning and his head turning to one side to display his confusion.

GSHP JOE: Who… who are you?

WISE GSHP: I am your master. And it is long past time you became my student.

***CUT SCENE***

GSHP Joe Abercrombie is on top of a tight rope, balancing on his testicles, holding a samurai sword in his urethra. (As a side note, GSHP’s have to use their urethras for both talking and grabbing things, which is why their voices sound muffled when they’re doing something).

The WISE GSHP hops along the snow covered ground, his testicles not even shrinking the slightest bit displaying his full zen mastery of his giant sentient penis self.

WISE GSHP: You think that your senses are gone, bah! You think that without your eyes you are blind. You think that without your ears you are deaf. You think that without a tongue you cannot taste.

GSHP JOE: (Muffled, so thankfully we can’t hear as this would ruin the whole idea) But if I don’t have any ears then how can we be having this conversation? (But again, thankfully we can’t hear this)

WISE GSHP: But the penis is a sensory organ unlike any other. Treated well, it can feel anything. Sense anything. You must use your penis flesh like radar, feeling every disturbance in the wind, every tremor in the ground. You must make your penis like the eye of God, open to the universe.

We have one last shot of GSHP Joe concentrating very hard, and changing his grasp on the sword. He raises one testicle as he balances the other on the tight rope in a Karate Kid-esque pose.

***CUT SCENE***

GSHP JOE is now doing a very complicated kata on the ground with his sword held firmly in his urethra, his shaft flapping every which way like one of those inflatable balloon people they have at car lots, as he slices and dices through the air.

Back in the oriental style hut, we see the wise old penis laying near a fire, coughing. GSHP Joe walks toward him, now having mastered the nimble, jump and swing walk of the noble GSHP samurai. Bending his shaft in half, he sheathes the sword at his side, and bows.

GSHP JOE: Master, I have prepared myself. I believe I am ready to wear the bandanna of those who have mastered Wang-Fu.**

The Wise GSHP motions Joe to stand near the fire, and coughs.

WISE GSHP: You have done very well, Joe. Better than I ever expected, but there is one lesson you have yet to learn. And it is a lesson I cannot teach you.

GSHP Joe leans forward, confused.

GSHP JOE: Master?

WISE GSHP: Long ago, I had another student, like you. His name was Ball-Rog, and he took all that I knew of Wang-Fu and used it for evil. For your training to be complete, you must find him and face him. To do that you must use…

The WISE GSHP begins to cough, his body spasms. His pubic hair we now see is completely shock white.

WISE GSHP: You must use… the self-made sword.

The WISE GSHP goes limp and falls to the ground.

***CUT SCENE***

A bunch of GSHP’s dressed in traditional Buddhist garb put the WISE GSHP on a pyre, sprinkle talcum powder on him as they murmur strange prayers, and then light it on fire.

GSHP Joe stands off to the side, his urethra scanning the mountainous countryside. He turns away and begins to sharpen his samurai sword.

***CUT SCENE***

Ball-Rog is covered with scars, has gristly black hair bound together in two locks that hang over each of his testicles. He has a crescent shaped scar on his head, and an eye patch for no reason. He faces GSHP Joe in a field of wild grass.

BALL-ROG: So, you are the Wise GSHP’s latest apprentice? Did he send you to die as well?

In a very serene, stone-faced fashion (however that expression translates) GSHP Joe draws his samurai sword and stands ready. There is a moment of stillness in which birds can be heard chirping on nearby trees, and then the world explodes in action as both GSHP’s jump into the air their swords clanging against one another like the tolling of church bells.

BALL-ROG (grunting around sword): I see the old one trained you well.

GSHP JOE (also grunting): Hai! He trained me well enough to kill you!

In a sudden circular motion GSHP Joe knocks Ball-Rog off his balance, and sends him to the ground. He holds his sword to Ball-Rob’s neck, which is relatively easy because there’s a lot of it.

GSHP JOE: Yield!

BALL-ROG: NEVER!

Ball Rog has pinched a dagger between his testicles and uses it to stab GSHP JOE in his right testicle. Joe drops his sword in the moment of panic. Blood gushes out of his testicle.

BALL-ROG: The old one never told you? The very sensitivity that helps us see also makes us more susceptible to pain. A pity, that you will not live to put this lesson to good use.

Ball-Rog prepares to be-head GSHP Joe.

We cut in on a tight slow motion shot as GSHP Joe’s urethra is opening and closing as he pants. It looks like a whale’s blow-hole.

GSHP JOE (delirious): Master… I have failed you.

WISE GSHP (VOICE OVER): Joe….

GSHP JOE: Master?

WISE GSHP (FADING): …The self-made sword….

Joe’s urethra turns at an angle, as if he is wrly amused and something mysterious has fallen into place. The corners of his urethra turn up in a smile.

Ball-Rog strikes at Joe, who dodges the blade, his shaft suddenly having the dexterity of a snake. In a flash we have to observe in slow motion, Joe’s entire body shudders as he ejaculates a blazing white sword and chops Ball-Rog’s head clean off.

We see one last image of him standing serene in the field, blazing white sword held at attention before he loses consciousness and falls to the ground atop his slain foe.

***CUT SCENE***

Joe is getting up from a sick bed, a white bandage bound tightly across the stab wound in his testicle. A female GSHP (You can tell it’s a woman because her pubic hair is blond, bouncy, and tied into a female haircut. For those of you screaming “HOW CAN A GIANT SENTIENT HUMAN PENIS BE A WOMAN? I would like to remind you that is a very sexist position. Sudden Acute Giant Sentient Human Penialism afflicts both men and women in equal proportion)

FEMALE GSHP: What will you do now?

GSHP JOE: I must tell this story. I must let men know that violence only begets more violence. I must take the lessons of my master and share them with the world.

FEMALE GSHP: How?

GSHP JOE turns to the window, the FEMALE GSHP walks next to him and he leans his shaft against hers in a GSHP approximation of a hug.

GSHP JOE (whispers): The same way men have been giving wisdom since time began. With story… and a song.

***END FLASHBACK SEQUENCE***

We all know the story from there. Joe Abercrombie devoted his life to helping others afflicted with GSHP. He single-shaftedly invented GSHP Braille.* He even designed a keyboard, specifically for people with GSHPism, so he could slap it with his shaft to write different letters. His tireless devotion to the rights of others afflicted with GSHP are outshone only by his accomplishments as a writer.

Do you want to know why “The First Law Trilogy” is so manly and good? It’s because every single fucking letter in that book was put to the page by 200lbs of GSHP slapping against a keyboard like a metronome made of cock.***

* Unlike normal braille, which is read with the fingertips, GSHP is read with the head of the giant human penis rubbing itself over the letters. You may be confused as to how GSHP Joe Abercrombie can see a keyboard well enough to write. This is actually not a problem at all, as how GSHP’s do have a lining of photosensitive cells surrounding their urethra that allow them to see fuzzy shapes.

** Wang-Fu is of course the martial arts style used by GSHP’s.

*** This is made doubly difficult by the fact that GSHP Joe Abercrombie also suffers from emphysema as well, which means that he has to wear an oxygen mask over his urethra so he can receive supplemental oxygen.

Part 4: It’s Actually Very Good

I was going to write in this section about how Joe Abercrombie’s books have staying power, and make me want to lead a better life.

I then realized since I have spent several days writing about giant human penises (read the section after this as well) that would probably seem hypocritical.

Suffice it to say, if I were an actual human being, who possessed actual feelings, this book would have made me a better person.

A word of actual advice before we go back into craziness:

When you go to read the First Law Trilogy get all the books at once. After you read the first one you will not want to wait for the next, and you’ll be pissed if your bookstore doesn’t have it. If you don’t have the second book ready to go don’t start the first until you do.

In the next section we are going to discuss dolphins.

SPOILER WARNING

!!!DO NOT CLICK ON THE LINK UNLESS YOU WANT SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT ABOUT THE BOOKS REVEALED!!!

Part 5: In Which I Completely Insert Myself Inside the Circle of Douchedom

“So, here we are.” I say, circling the figure in the chair. The figure struggles against ropes, unable to be heard through the thick black hood covering its head.

I pull the hood off his in a sudden and vicious jerk. Underneath we see the purple-head of imaginary GSHP Joe Abercrombie.

“Who… who the hell are you?” Joe Abercrombie mumbles, his urethra blinking against the dim, but still oh so bright, light of the interrogation room.

“Who am I? Oh, that’s rich.” I spit on the ground near GSHP Joe’s testicles. “And I think I’ll be asking the questions around here from now on. I’m no Sand dan Glokta, but I know how these things go.”

“What do you want?” Joe asks, gasping for breath.

Enya (Yes, THAT Enya) comes up from behind me and slaps Joe Abercrombie full across the face.

“OW!” Joe Abercrombie shouts.

“Shut it, Joe! Enya and I are going to have a little talk with you. You see, I read the whole First Law Trilogy!” I stop screaming all at once just to throw him further off balance. Then, I say “Fucking brilliant. God damn brilliant.”

Joe Abercrombie blushes, and mutters “Well.. thank you… I actually….”

Good. Unbalance. Just where I want him.

Enya bunches Joe Abercrombie in the neck. He shuts up immediately and begins to sob.

“Why did you do it Joe?” I ask.

“What are you talking about! Who are you!”

“How could you kill Logen Ninefingers!”

Joe looks confused.

“I… it just made sense given the arc of the books. Logen was never supposed to glorify violence, he was meant to be an honest portrayal of someone who had…” I decide not to let him finish.

“And you let some fucking nobody off him? Black fucking Dow? Am I supposed to believe that Black fucking Dow could kill the Bloody Nine? Answer me!”

“It’s like Logen says… there’s always an element of luck. The world isn’t a story, and if you want to make a world seem real you have to….”

I make a signal to Enya and she spends the next several minutes beating the crap out of GSHP Joe Abercrombie. We resume the conversation when he has had time to recover. Blood drizzles from his urethra.

“I… I didn’t even say right out that he died. I left it ambiguous. I just said some stuff about the river he fell in… see? Cyclical. Poetic.” Then becoming hysterical Joe shouts “He can still come back! He can live again! Just let me go!”

I smile, and kick up my feet as I smoke an imaginary cigar. Since its imaginary the cigar smoke does not bother my actual asthma.

“Oh, he’s going to live again Joe. Logen Ninefingers is going to get the life he deserves. You’re going to show the readers that deep down, underneath all the killing and all the bodies, that Logen Ninefingers is a good man.”

“But he wasn’t… he was just a man. A human man… and….”

I hold a finger to my lips for silence.

“We both know that Bayaz did something to him, don’t we? What with all that mood tampering he did to Jezal, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Bayaz did something to Logen to make him the Bloody Nine. Like you said, Bayaz needed a man that could talk to spirits. He needed to make sure a man like that had a way of staying safe. What were Bayaz’s areas of expertise? Fire and Will?”

“If… even if I did that, that could take whole books to resolve. You can’t just turn a character’s arc that quickly. There’s a science to these things.”

I smile, stand up, walk to the front of the room and pull down a chart.

“I’m going to show you how to save Logen Ninefingers and redeem his character in less than a page.”

“Bullshit.” Joe seems like he wants to say more until Enya raises her hand and he winces.

“Bullshit? No. The American Poitical System is bullshit. The twenty-four hour news cycle is bullshit. This? This is genius.” I pull down the chart. On it, is a crudely drawn of a dolphin.

“You’re a smart guy, Joe. Let me ask you a question: Name one horrible person that has ever been saved from drowning by a dolphin.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Joe says in utter disbelief.

“Think of the possibilities! Logen falls in the ocean, about to die. Vulnerable, human, he already has the reader’s sympathy. Then what happens? Something slick and gray pulls up next to him, grabs hold of his collar, and drags him to shore.”

“Dolphins don’t even swim in fucking rivers! Let alone in northern climates during the fucking winter!” I decide to let this go. For now.

“That doesn’t matter! Say that Kanedias made a different species of dolphin! Do it however you want. The important thing is anyone who has ever been rescued by a dolphin is by default a good person.”

“DID YOU NOT EVEN READ THE FUCKING BOOKS? A GOOD PERSON? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN. YOU MUST BE THE DUMBEST-”

Enya hits Joe in the testicle with a baseball bat.

“That’s just your liberal education talking. Of course there’s a difference between a good person and evil person. That difference is whether or not a dolphin would rescue them from drowning. It’s science Joe.”

“I refuse. I absolutely will do no such thing. I have integrity.”

I motion to Enya. She starts singing that weird chant music she has that makes the world seem like a fundamentally better and wussier place. Already the room has adopted a surrealism that bleeds into every cemented pore.

“Maybe a little Enya will get your creative juices flowing. If that doesn’t work… well, there’s always Taylor Swift, Celine Dion, and Barbara Streisand.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You would be surprised what I’d dare. Someone bring in the television. It looks like our friend Joe needs to watch… let’s see. Hmmm? How about ‘The Notebook?’ Have you ever seen ‘A Walk to Remember?’ Oh Joe, wait till you see Mandy Moore die of caner. We’ll see how ‘harsh’ and ‘realistic’ you feel then.”

“FUCK YOU!”

“There are so many classics Joe! ‘Where the Red Fern Grows’ ‘Old Yeller!’ and ‘Brian’s Song!’”

“We’ll have fluffy bunnies, rainbows, and dolphin rescues in no time!”

I leave, laughing uproariously.