Back in a mythic land of dragons and young heroes

IN the real world, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more alluring fairy tale than the story of how Christopher Paolini met Alfred A. Knopf Books and both lived happily ever after.

Paolini was a home-schooled 15-year-old from Montana when he began writing a fantasy novel called “Eragon” about a boy and his dragon who fight an evil empire. By 19, Paolini had self-published the book and was touring the country in medieval garb, promoting it.

Then serendipity arrived in the unlikely form of mega-author Carl Hiaasen. While vacationing in Montana with his family, Hiaasen’s stepson read “Eragon” and raved so much that Hiaasen told his editor at Knopf about it. Knopf bought the book and published more than 100,000 copies in 2003, hoping to lure the “Harry Potter” crowd. Exceeding everyone’s expectations, “Eragon” sold 1.5 million copies and spent 85 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list.

Billed as the first of the “Inheritance” trilogy, “Eragon” borrowed wholesale from J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” and Anne McCaffrey’s “The Dragonriders of Pern” series. But it also created an internally consistent world called Alagaesia populated by dragons, werecats, brutish Urghals, elves, dwarfs, men, sorcerers, supernatural Shades and evil bird-like creatures called Ra’zac that rode on winged steeds and struck fear into the hearts of all living creatures, a la Tolkien’s Ringwraiths. Critics and kids alike embraced “Eragon,” awed perhaps as much by Paolini’s inspirational back story as by the book’s mythic scope and noble teen hero.

Caught up in the hype, I read “Eragon” to my two sons and found it ambitious, exciting and flawed, the work of an obviously talented but unseasoned author still feeling his way around language, pacing and original character development. So I was especially interested to see how Paolini had matured as a novelist in his sophomore effort.

Weighing in at 684 pages, “Eldest” shows literary growth but is bogged down by inconsistent pacing and an overwrought, archaic style. The strengths of “Eldest” are its narrative arc, suspenseful plotting and the dramatic conflicts that Eragon and his cousin Roran face as they battle the army of King Galbatorix. Paolini spins a dense web of betrayal, honor, bonding, unrequited love and heroism. But it is a broadly told and archetypal tale, lacking the moral subtlety and mastery of Philip Pullman, Ursula K. Le Guin or Tolkien.

“Eldest” presents a dual narrative as Eragon travels to the elves’ forest kingdom of Du Weldenvarden to be schooled in magic, while Roran is besieged in their home village of Carvahall by Ra’zac and imperial soldiers.

After anticipating what juicy things might happen when Eragon and his wry, intelligent dragon Saphira meet the elves, it is disappointing to report that this half of the book lags. In “Eldest,” it is Roran’s story, as he matures from village boy into charismatic leader, that is most compelling and tightly written.

Paolini is at his rollicking best in describing how Roran battles Galbatorix’s men, vows revenge after his betrothed Katrina is carried off by Ra’zac, persuades the villagers to flee into the ominous mountains of “The Spine” and leads them down the coast using his wits, treachery, unforeseen partnerships and narrow escapes.

There are other highlights. As with the first volume, some of the strongest writing in “Eldest” depicts the complex emotional relationship between Eragon and Saphira. Here, Paolini drops all the big words and tortured syntax. When Eragon and Saphira communicate telepathically, they speak plain English:

“ ‘Run after her,’ exclaimed Saphira.

“ ‘What?’

“ ‘We can’t afford to have her angry with you. Go apologize.’

“[Eragon’s] pride rebelled. ‘No! it’s her fault, not mine.’

“ ‘Go apologize, Eragon, or I’ll fill your tent with carrion.’ By contrast, the chapters where sensei elf Orimis instructs Eragon on magic -- as well as practices that sound a lot like yoga, vegetarianism and Zen Buddhist meditation -- involve lectures such as this: “Like every race, we adhere to a wide range of tenets, and, as a result, we often arrive at differing conclusions, even in identical situations. Conclusions, I might add, that make logical sense from each person’s point of view.”

Paolini’s prose also veers toward the purple: “A starburst of royal blue filled the flowers’ throats, diffusing into the sable corolla like the vestiges of day into night.”

Is it churlish for a reviewer to dwell on flaws when the quest itself is so epic? Should a young-adult book be subjected to the same rigors as adult fiction? It’s precisely because of Paolini’s storytelling gifts that one yearns for “Eldest” to be consistently good, especially because many of this book’s shortcomings could have been fixed by a strong-willed editor with a sharp pencil. Ultimately, however, the slog proves worth it. As Roran and the villagers dodge an increasingly hot pursuit and Eragon’s magic lessons culminate in a transformative scene of haunting beauty at an elfish bacchanal, the book catches fire.

The last 100 pages, as armies of the righteous world gather to battle Galbatorix on the Burning Plain, bring a fulfilling climax and dramatic revelations about the crimson dragon on the book’s cover that deftly set the stage for the third book.

Paolini says on his website that his two literary touchstones are “Tolkien at his best” and Seamus Heaney’s translation of “Beowulf.” While “Eragon” was “a way to explore the standard fantasy traditions that I enjoyed reading so much,” he sees Books 2 and 3 as “opportunities to expand on the original archetypes and try to bring a depth to the world that I haven’t seen done or in ways that I want to explore personally.”

Critics may quibble but jillions of kids already have bet that Paolini achieves his real-life quest: Pre-sale orders for “Eldest” have ranked the book in the top 10 on Amazon.com, beating out bestsellers by Malcolm Gladwell, David McCullough and Bill Maher.

A natural storyteller, Paolini has embarked on something grand with his “Inheritance” books. His strength lies in creating a vivid fantasy world that weaves together strands of beloved epics while layering in those of his own devising. It’s a fine world to escape into. One wishes only that it were grander.