It's not like it's out of character for the papracy to be distracted by doctrinal quibbles while it's resources could be better spend. I think you might be insulating us from the worst of Beal's Bealness, because this isn't insane yet. If not for his reputation, I'd probably expect a turnaround midway through the story where the protagonist sees the evils the republic perpetuates and renounces his views ect.
Another chapter, another bit of tortured Latin about elves and God before we start the story. It's very early morning, prior to sunrise, and like every Ro--Amorran Senator of note, Magnus' has clients who are already swarming his house. One of them, another Senator approaches Marcus, wishes him well on his mission and hands him a relic, the knucklebone of one Saint Ansfrid of Tolanon, a place that sounds like a Twelve Step Program. This is supposedly effective against elvish magics and as there aren't enough elves in Amorr to care about, the Senator is giving it to Marcus, though he is doubtless hanging on to his tiger-banishing rock. We also learn that the official Senatorial garb is a black toga with a broad red stripe--and implicitly that Pope Nero Dumbledore is not trying to even bother keeping the entire "Let's visit the elves to figure out if they have souls" mission a secret, which actually means Magnus was underestimating the danger of this thing, as at this point, it wouldn't surprise me to discover that Nero Dumbledore has sent a letter to the elves explaining that he's sending a mission to look into the soul thing and determine if the Republic should go ahead with another genocide.
Magnus arrives, with the three slaves who were chatting with him previously, plus one more to hand out his largess to the clients, said largess being in the form of purses. It seems Beale has an exceedingly crude idea how the Roman patron-client relationship worked. As there is, again, at least one Senator there, that means Magnus is openly bribing his fellow Senators and doing it with the backing of tradition. The Amorran Republic! It's not a train wreck, because there are no trains. After some labored "comedy" involving a poor client saying they're really here to see Marcus, which given the Senator handing Marcus a relic doesn't seem that far off, Magnus invites his clients to accompany him and Marcus to the... Quadratus Albus, where Pope Nero Dumbledore is holding a special mass for his emissaries before they head off. We discover that many noble Amorrians use slave litters drawn by as many as twelve people, because they are awful, but Magnus, despite being a chunky fellow, likes to walk thanks to his years in the legions.
As they walk, Magnus notes that, yeah, the clients are probably there to see Marcus, on the general theory that someone who's gathering so much attention from the great might wind up heading the Valerian family one of these days, and we learn that the Senator who gave Marcus the knucklebone was Publius Hosidius, a fact that is actually of no importance to the story at large. And then... Beale indulges his love for repeating information that he has previously given the reader, as Magnus tells Marcus that he is danger, which is why he got him the dwarf gladiator. But not from the elves, unless High King Mael (which is the first time he gets named, so yay, a scrap of new info) decides to just slaughter the emissaries for laughs, which apparently is a thing he might do, so also from elves, but if that happens then a bodyguard isn't going to be much help, a fact that Marcus actually considered in the last chapter. Nope it's people looking to start a war for their own profit, just like Magnus thought last chapter, though he lays it out here in more detail, how a man can get rich just by supplying boots to the officers, and that's before the loot, new territory and slaves are thrown in. Amorr was built on conquest--which really makes you wonder how the Amorran Church of Crystal Dragon Jesus manages to square heading the damn Republic with its presumed message of love, peace and understanding. Not that its real world equivalent hasn't managed similar acts over the years, mind you, but they tended to take some building to. It's like how the whole "medieval Catholic church" and "late period Roman Republic" hang together very awkwardly and the lack of any real effort to make them square only makes the situation worse. Still, that's the absurd fantasy world they live in--Magnus assures his nephew that are countless ambitious men plotting his death to start a war. He even states that if he was certain the Senate would give him the legions, he'd consider. Yep, a real peach, uncle Magnus.
So, with Marcus increasingly feeling like a paranoid wreck, (and Magnus' clients apparently listening at times because the wily old senator isn't much for basic espionage tradecraft) they arrive at the Quadratus Albus, which is pretty much the Roman forum, but gaudier. How much gaudier? Pope Nero Dumbledore is seated on a silver throne, so that much gaudier. Also, the cardinals have suddenly become the Azuli, which--well, apparently Beale never thought to go back and change the names on an edit--there are a bunch of "gold-cloaked Michaeline warrior-priests" and also... a pair of elves.
Crystal Dragon Jesus, I was joking about Nero Dumbledore sending them a letter noting about potential intent to commit genocide.
What has clearly happened here is that Beale has changed his mind about the embassy between chapters, and where in the last it was a "down-low" sort of thing and secrecy was an issue, now it's big and public and everyone knows what's going on. This is something of an ongoing issue in Beale's longer stories, where details keep changing between chapters with no effort to go back and make things square on his part before sending the work out to be published.
A Hugo finalist for editor, folks.
Anyway, two elves, who are tall and attractive, but eerie-looking. The taller one wears a circlet that shows he's a noble, which means he's sorcerer, which to Marcus' Amorran mind means he's a servant of evil. It seems mage is a barred class for Amorrans. Still, Marcus notes that the elf is smart enough to not actually try any magic here, where either the Michaelines or the crowd would kill him. Amorrans really hate effin' mages.
Marcus mounts the stage and people start cheering for House Valerian, and Marcus is just so surprised and baffled because he's so 'umble, he is. Father Aestus makes another cruel, obvious joke, cementing him as "the asshole we're supposed to like", and then Pope Nero Dumbledore starts praying bad Latin with Marcus providing a running translation and also FEELING THINGS, and telling us his feelings in plodding prose. As the Pope finishes his prayer, the sun breaks and dramatically strikes the white dome of the palace, something that it was clearly designed with in mind. Marcus, like a child watching someone do the moving thumb trick, is impressed, as are most of the crowd--the elves however seem to be less impressed, and even skeptical. The fact that they have just had to go through an elaborate ritual in another language for a religion that isn't theirs, and doesn't respect them, and yet is openly preparing to sit in judgement on them is ignored. Marcus just feels like they're bad lots, and has a bad feeling about this whole mission.
And so we end the chapter, having spent most of it repeating information we were told in the last one.
It's not like it's out of character for the papracy to be distracted by doctrinal quibbles while it's resources could be better spend. I think you might be insulating us from the worst of Beal's Bealness, because this isn't insane yet. If not for his reputation, I'd probably expect a turnaround midway through the story where the protagonist sees the evils the republic perpetuates and renounces his views ect.
Wait. An (presumably) antagonist faction that isn't stupid enough to unnecessarily and purposelessly do something that will get them killed off almost immediately? I thought you said this was a terrible story!
Wait. An (presumably) antagonist faction that isn't stupid enough to unnecessarily and purposelessly do something that will get them killed off almost immediately? I thought you said this was a terrible story!
No, no. The elves are a potential ally faction. Amorr and them are supposed to not fight unless they have to. Only bad people who want to provoke a bad war (as opposed to of course good wars, which are healthy and invigorating to a state) want the two nations to fight.
And frankly, by later elvish actions, this guy must just have been tired that morning, because Selenoth elves are just the sort to unleash magic on a crowd that hates them while screaming things like "Kneel before my arcane might, pathetic, round-eared mortal scum!"
More bad Latin about elves, and souls and god, and... the psalm-writer. Yay.
Marcus and company are on the road--as frankly, they should have been last chapter, but that's behind us now. Lodi is riding wounded, and in effing chain mail, so we're continuing with the uneasy medieval/ancient times mischmasch, but he ain't letting that bother him, cause pain don't hurt none. Marcus is fascinated by Lodi, as dwarfs apparently don't leave much in the way of written records behind. There's a saga of the Siege of Iron Mountain that's a bit of a craze in Amorr, but this is a rather dubious thing that was penned by a "Savonder", something that the narrative does little to clear up the identity of, but it's clear they aren't dwarfs. (We will have this cleared up later. And will wish we hadn't.) Said saga apparently inspired the gladiator spectacle that Lodi got wounded in, and the entire Blue faction's dwarf contingent got killed, so the Amorrans like to have their slave fighters perform gaudy versions of their people's most grueling battles.
Crystal Dragon Jesus, Amorr. Burn down in a fire already.
So in between spending his time gawking at his dwarf bodyguard, because Marcus is so sensitive and intelligent, he gawks at the rest of the group. Marcus is apparently surprised at the size of this expedition, because, you know, diplomatic missions should be tiny. Instead, both Bishop Claudo and Father Austus have brought slaves, because the Amorran Church of Crystal Dragon Jesus has all the moral awareness of a dead stump, and in the Bishop's case, guards in his livery, which means that in addition to having its own personal militias, the Amorran Church's dioceses have their own personal armies, so that this whole thing can violently explode into civil war whenever needed. The Michaelines apparently don't have slaves or squires with them which is supposed to show how 'umble and badass they are, but instead suggests Beale hasn't thought about how hard it is to keep even medieval military equipment in running order, just after having a character give a speech about boots. This is followed by Beale detailing the party's gear--Marcus and Marcipor have swords, but Lodi has axes--but not battle axes, just butcher axes, so, I'm guessing a min-maxer--and a giant crossbow that looks like a siege weapon. Apparently, Selenoth dwarfs are jacked. And Marcus rides towards the end of the column, because it's not like a member of one of the most powerful families in Amorr is important or anything, passing the strangely desolate landscape--which is very odd because giant cities like Amorr take a lot of food to keep alive, so he should be passing latifundas not wasteland. Marcus continues to feel resentful about being stuck towards the back, while refusing to take actions that would correct this problem like walking up to the bishop, because Claudus is mean, man.
This leads to Marcus thinking about his BIG DREAM to write a great book, and have people remember him forever, like Augustinus, and Oxonus, and... Depotapolis and... the Castrate, who I am guessing is Crystal Dragon Origen, to go with Crystal Dragon St. Augustine. It says something that Beale manages to be just as unoriginal in his past philosophical masters for this universe as he does with its primary religion. Anyway, Marcus decides that he should write up his own treatise on the elven soul matter, a Summa Elvetica if you will, and slams Depotapolis as arrogant and supercilious for writing dialogues that all come to predestined pseudo-logical conclusions, so there's Crystal Dragon Plato.
Yes, Marcus is going deep into his own navel and dragging the reader along, when a Michaeline named Zephanus rides up to talk about his dwarf slave. This leads to talking about Marcus' father, who is talked up as a formidable general, and who Marcus clearly has issues with, and who does things like give speeches along the lines of 'You can see that they're over there. Go kill them'. Which causes Marcus to wonder if maybe he's making a mistake, not pursuing the family vocation of killing things. This also leads to another infodump on magic in Selenoth, and the Michaeline, who have a sort of anti-magic, and can see magic through something called the "Fifth Eye", which is apparently named after the first Michaeline, Qunitus Tullius, thus explaining the awkwardness. Anyway, the important thing about all this is that it is most certainly not magic, and the Michaelines are just humble servants of God, so, no burning. Oh, and Zephanus is a dick to Lodi throughout, so fuck him.
We also learn that the elves have two of Amorr's legionary eagles after some "comical" misunderstanding on Lodi's part so Beale can explain what they are, and that Magnus wanted to trade recognition of the elves' souls for them, which is actually the first we've heard of this, as he literally never mentioned them previously. And that one of the Michaelines, a grizzled old soldier named Claudius Serranus fought the elves in the past. Serranus then gives us a bunch of military details, in case we decide to play a round of Warhammer in Selenoth. Orcs have the most heavy infantry, but elves have none at all, so remember that kids when you play each faction. Serranus declares that this is because they value their lives too much to waste them in close combat. (What?) Which then causes Marcus to realize they must be a highly decadent and debauched people, lacking in spirit. (WHAT?) Which Serranus declares proves that they all really want to die. (WHAT?)
Remember how Crystal Dragon Plato was arrogant and supercilious with his dialogues that come to preordained conclusions that pretend to make sense?
Marcus realizes something must be up, as Serranus can't have fought the elves if he was serving with the Amorrans, as they haven't fought the Amorrans for over a century, and now, suddenly, they don't neighbor Amorr, despite what was said earlier. This is about to get a reply but the head Michaeline announces it's break time, which seems to be reason enough to end a chapter that has spent almost its entire time having people infodump about the world in conversation with a hero who seems to be declining from "Designated Hero" to "Pinball Hero".
Well, it has to end somewhere. It's as good a place as any. Or as bad.
Lodi is riding wounded, and in effing chain mail, so we're continuing with the uneasy medieval/ancient times mischmasch, but he ain't letting that bother him, cause pain don't hurt none.
You can have Christianity or you can have the Roman Republic. You can't just graft them awkwardly together like this, it doesn't work, not without leaving either part recognizable as it's component piece.
Ancient era chain was fairly pricey, the property of kings or exceedingly wealthy governments (like, for example, the late era Republic). Not something you casually hand out to your slave bodyguard. (The fact that they apparently could get chain sized for a dwarf with apparent ease is whole 'nother can of worms, but I'm willing to cut them some slack here.) Further, while Beale's description is vague, there's enough details to suggest he's thinking of medieval chain, not a Roman lorica. As later chapters and tales make clear, armor in Selenoth has reached the stage it reached in the late Middle Ages in our world, just as the Amorran Church of Crystal Dragon Jesus acts like it's a Medieval institution as the Republic of which it's the nominal head goes about being cheerfully Ancient. So, your typical homebrew D&D setting.
More importantly for my response of shock that Lodi's in it, it's not something you'd have a wounded man riding on a mule in. Unless the idea is to kill him. At which point, carry on.
You can have Christianity or you can have the Roman Republic. You can't just graft them awkwardly together like this, it doesn't work, not without leaving either part recognizable as it's component piece.
They really don't go well together, do they? Early Christianity pretty much defined itself as "more or less intrinsically opposed to the Roman Empire", and while it adjusted in time, that sort of remains.
That said, that issue is really the least of the problems that the Amorran Church of Crystal Dragon Jesus has. As we will see in the near future.
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I(A) Q. VII A. I ARG. IV; The annoying chapter names go on.
More bad Latin about elves and creation. And then--back on the road, as the entire point of the break was to split this up into two chapters of infodumps instead of one. The Amorrans are heading to the hills, where there's a monastery they can stop off at, following which they'll be in the Elvish mountains... so wait, the Republic and the Elves ARE neighbors after all. False alarm, people. Beale just got a tad confused in his world-building there. Anyway, more tedious details about the trip, and we learn that two of the Michaelines are named Ecclesiastus and Habbakus, so apparently the Crystal Dragon Bible is remarkably close to Real World Bible. And after a few lame interactions and a terrible pun that seems to confirm they're speaking in English, but then who the hell knows--back to the infodump.
So--Claudius Serranus, grizzled old Michaeline veteran. This is his story. As a young man, he served in the armies of the King of Savonderum, so, now we have a glimmer what Savonders are--another bunch of humans. This came about by his leaving the family farm after his father's death at the tender age of fifteen. After stumbling around, he signed on as a mercenary for what he thought was through the harvest, but was an actual indenture that made him the property of the mercenary band's captain, supplied with a spear that he says is more of a sharpened stick. The Savonders, we learn, don't keep a standing army--the King supplies... mages, engineers, and a third of the.... heavy cavalry as needed, with the nobles sending the other two thirds. The infantry is a combination of levies and mercenary auxiliaries, so... apparently even as Amorr cosplays being in Ancient Rome, up north, Andy Dick is bidding you all welcome to Medieval Times. Also during this, Savonderum reveals its magical tendency to change names on a whim, becoming "Savondum" briefly. I'd like to say this a simple mistake, but it's not, it's a complicated and elaborate one that will continue throughout the series. Serranus winds up serving with a baron who might be called Gourgaud, on a mission to stop a band of elf raiders. The baron's forces outnumbered the elves ten to one, so of course the elves slaughter them, first winnowing them down with a couple volleys, then leading them into a brutal ambush that gutted nearly half the forces, with Serranus surviving through the age-old method of crying and hiding.
So, having thus suffered a crushing defeat, which in a normal medieval battle would have seen most of the rest of his army run off, somehow the Baron turns it around. The elves, Serranus reveals, suffer from hubris in this case imagining that near 50% casualties would cause a force to lose cohesion and thus allow them to raid at will for awhile, then return home. Nope. Not in this universe. And now Serranus asks Marcus to figure out how they did it. Marcus, as he ponders this problem, gives us more details about Savonderum--it's got rich lands to the east, and rough hills and forests in the west, which leads to the Elves and also some orcs and goblins in the south. Marcus after some figuring mostly gets it--the baron just had his heavy horse block a mountain pass and fight on foot, thus giving them heavy infantry bonuses against the elvish archers. Leet wargame, bruh! But wait--Serranus points out that there are FOUR mountain passes, and the baron had only one hundred heavy horse, so how did he get the right one? Lodi, who is apparently listening to this whole thing points out that Serranus told him he was there, a new sharpened sticks in hand. And then Marcus gets it even better--the baron divided his infantry into four groups, and had them guard the mountain pass, thus destroying most of his numeric advantage. Then he had the cavalry pursue the elves, until they headed for a mountain pass. Serranus tells him that he has once again gotten it mostly right--the baron knew that one of the mountain passes was right out, so just split them into three groups. Then the elves would inevitably duke it out with... one group of badly trained infantry while being pursued by heavy cavalry up... a mountain pass...
I'm starting to have doubts about the genius of this plan.
Anyway, despite looking ridiculous, the plan works, with the humans positioning themselves above the elves, so the elves would have to come up to get them. This results in the immediate complication of an elven warhawk... which is ridden by a fireball-tossing elven sorcerer, but that just rides off to get the elves' resupply after killing a few men, instead of literally being the difference between life or death in this situation. And having thus tossed away a sizable advantage, the elves--are eventually overwhelmed by the humans that don't significantly outnumber them. Anyway--the humans kill all the elves, and Serranus reveals that he got a leet elvish longsword as part of his loot. (Which Serranus swears ain't magic, because the Michaelines don't let their members use magic swords.) This attracts the notice of the senior elf in the party, who is pissed, and declares...
"How dare you bear that weapon!" the elf hissed. "Were this not an embassy sealed before the High King by vows of salt and silver, I would flay the flesh from your bones this very day, cursed human!"
See? I told you they'd be all "Bow before my arcane might, round ear!" soon.
Serranus response is to say that he bears the weapon because he killed its owner--the elf reveals that he is Faelan u Flann, a cousin to the High King, that the sword was a gift to his nephew, and that he is pissed, so Serranus better watch his back man. Marcus thus is left with the sinking feeling that the embassy might have taken a turn for the worse, maybe, as the chapter ends.
Well, at least the slave stuff was at a minimum for this chapter. Small mercies. So, let's prepare for another infodump next chapter. Yay!
As I refuel from the... thatness of that previous chapter, I should point out, once again that while most of this novella is still before me, there are only seven chapters left. After the next chapter, I will officially be over halfway through this... thing. The only action has been people talking. Our discussion of whether elves have souls has been quite limited, and generally been exceedingly tedious cod philosophy on the part of Marcus to give him the illusion of depth--we are instead hearing more about how they fight battles, with weird, ass-backwards conclusions made from that. The point of this story seems to be to show Beale's world, and given that it's a mostly generic D&D world with a few odd points that don't hang together well... well, it's sort of like a man showing you his collection of black velvet clown paintings. The effect is almost assuredly not what he was going for.
I(A) Q.VII A. I S. C.: Wait... wait--it's not the last number after all? Damn it, this method sucks.
Right, we open at that monastery, where Marcus is enjoying a nice bit of shut-eye that the monks interrupt with their call to morning prayer. Marcipor comes in with a torch, which causes Lodi to freak out as apparently he's carrying some things that are flammable. Because even dwarf slaves carry around their supply of dwarven napalm. It's their cultural heritage, man!
Anyway.... Marcus has a lot of inconsequential musings, many of which he's actually had in previous chapters. He eats breakfast. More musings. The monks are the Quiricusians, who are named after a child-martyr, and have a vow of silence. Marcus notes that they and the Michaelines are very different, but there's a place for both like how humans have stomachs and eyes, and maybe it's like that for elves and men, but then thinks that might be stretching the analogy.
The Quiricusians have taken care of their horses. Everyone is there, and the elflord seems to have settled down some, for now. The abbot of the monastery gives a speech--apparently he is exempt from the vow of silence--and gives the group a couple of reliquaries including pieces of marble from the stairs where--wait, this is St. Cyricus, an actual legendary Christian martyr. He hasn't even changed the name, really--Quiricus is a variant version, though he has left off St. Jutta, Cyricus' mother, for some mysterious reason.
This frickin' half-assed fantasy world, man.
Right, so the group's back on the road, the elves are more stand-offish than usual, almost as if something happened previously, and the elves are doing their best to keep their tempers so that this mission doesn't collapse. Marcus thinks about laboring under a vow of silence, because he has pages to fill. Marcipor and Marcus talk about the whole "turns out you killed my nephew" matter, and Marcus decides it can't be THAT big a deal for the elves, who with their long lifespans doubtless wind up finding their relatives quite tiresome. Marcus mentions a philosopher who said that the elves, rather than looking as events as taking place within the framework of an underlying order, believe things just happen and it's only the individuals mind that gives them significance, so they should be well-adapted to living in a universe created by Beale.
More travel, more musings. Marcus thinks about the weather. He thinks about being a legionary. He thinks about how annoying it is to ride. None of it is interesting, but the page count, it must be filled. Lodi speaks up suddenly and tells him that Serranus' belief that the elves want to die is stupid, which should be obvious. The elves' big problem is their pride, which refuses to acknowledge that they aren't perfect, and that they need to change. Marcus infodumps--there were seven Elven kingdoms, and now there are three--further, only two of the original royal lines remain. A war with the "Witchkings" is seen as bearing part of the blame for this, though Lodi notes that humans and dwarfs fought in it too. Lodi also is rather indignant when Marcus refers to his captivity as "your inadvertent visit to our great city". Marcus' response to Lodi pointing out that being a slave is not visiting, involves not "bother(ing) to correct him".
Shut up Marcus. Just shut up.
Lodi goes on about elvish arrogance, and about them letting elvish maidens fight in their wars, which he seems to connect to their decline. However he never actually goes anywhere this, as the conversation goes off on another tangent. It turns out Lodi is an actual veteran of the Siege of Iron Mountain, which means that the Amorrans haven't just made dwarfs replay one of their race's most grueling battles as a garish spectacle, they made a survivor of said battle do that.
Man, Beale seems to be making up for lost time with the "awful Amorran slavery stuff" this chapter. Anyway, Lodi offers to tell them his story, because it's been a whole chapter since somebody jabbered a story at Marcus, and on that, this chapter ends revealing itself to have been constructed of mostly filler, with some circus animals thrown in. Join us tomorrow for Lodi's tale, an epic story smashed down to one chapter, and where we already know the ending, unless Lodi reveals he's been dead this whole time.
Which would be a significant plot twist. And also, plot, as this thing has managed to not have any for nearly half its length.
I'm kind of disappointed with how forgettably, generically bad most of this is. I was expecting Beale's work to be erupting with terribleness from every page, but this is just like any other half-baked blah fantasy novel only with slightly more emphasis on slavery.
I'm kind of disappointed with how forgettably, generically bad most of this is. I was expecting Beale's work to be erupting with terribleness from every page, but this is just like any other half-baked blah fantasy novel only with slightly more emphasis on slavery.
I'm kind of disappointed with how forgettably, generically bad most of this is. I was expecting Beale's work to be erupting with terribleness from every page, but this is just like any other half-baked blah fantasy novel only with slightly more emphasis on slavery.
If you want that, you go to Beale's "nonfiction", where under his "Vox Day" persona he does things like praise Anders Breivik. His fiction is a quieter level of bad, generic with a heavy dose of awful in the background. Though occasionally he reaches levels of surprising awful in his prose.
And the thing about the slavery is, remember, he could avoid this, or handle it better. He doesn't. Oh, he doesn't.
My hunch (and it's just a hunch) is that Beale has always wanted to have his cake and eat it too. I mean, I'm going from what I've read here, my "experience" with other bad authors, and (most importantly) the posts of him and his followers, because I haven't read any of his specific works in depth. By have his cake and eat it too, I'm thinking of trying to be both the "irreverent rebel" and someone who's legitimately successful and influential in terms of SF/F literature as well.
The former is of course the monstrous troll behavior. The latter is him running in to everything and declaring what he and his vanity puppy mill press are making to be "revolutionary", with them being described in terms just as hyperbolic and pretentious as anything I've heard from my worst beatnik English professor (yes, I had one. And he was too old even for a hippy-he was an honest to goodness beatnik.)
Now, to tie this into the mocked work, what I'm thinking is that (at least the titles, and likely more, but that's what came to my mind), are the trolling part "See, I'm naming something similar-look how it has the same syllables as A Game Of Thrones", while the work inside is the "serious" part, "See, look I can write a deep intricate fantasy with a big deep serious setting".
Now, to tie this into the mocked work, what I'm thinking is that (at least the titles, and likely more, but that's what came to my mind), are the trolling part "See, I'm naming something similar-look how it has the same syllables as A Game Of Thrones", while the work inside is the "serious" part, "See, look I can write a deep intricate fantasy with a big deep serious setting".
The attempt at crooking his snook at GRR Martin's work really starts with "Vol. 1"--Summing Up Elves seems to have been a little side project of his that caught his fancy, published first--I believe--by a little Christian vanity press, with the other short stories written intermittently after its completion, with a few that were written parallel to A Throne of Bones. Which we'll get to when we reach it. In... a couple weeks, if I keep up this rate.
As for your summary of his behavior--got it in one.
