[40k Review] Prospero Burns - Dan Abnett

When Graham McNeill’s A Thousand Sons was released and had time to be processed, readers were almost immediately clamoring for it’s sister story, Prospero Burns; I know, as I was certainly one of them. However, due to an unfortunate medical situation, Dan Abnett’s accompanying story was put on hold for nearly four months.

It was worth the wait.

Both Prospero Burns and A Thousand Sons before it detail the events leading up to and the subsequent razing of Prospero, the Thousand Sons chapter homeworld. Where A Thousand Sons focused on the title legion and their primarch Magnus, Prospero Burns is the anthropological study of the VI Legion of astartes, the Sons of Russ, the Vlka Fenryka, seen through the eyes of conservator Kasper Hawser.

Hawser is an imperial conservator, his job roughly translated to a modern day anthropologist. He studies cultures through their histories and what they left behind, piecing together the lost bits of knowledge, hoping to discern from them the ‘why’ behind the Dark Age of Technology. His search leads him to Fenris where he ultimately finds his home as a skjald, or storyteller, for the VI Legion.

As skjald, Hawser is privy to the innermost workings of the VI Legion. Hawser, as he is cryptically instructed by an astartes priest, “is free to go as he pleases.” This allows the reader to see these otherwise private dealings through the eyes of a human, to see his reactions to them, and to see the very human responses Hawser has. Because of this freedom, the entirety of Prospero is told through Hawser’s eyes, to much the benefit of the novel. Through Hawser, we see life on Fenris, we see an Astartes battle drop, and we even see the Council of Nikea, but more importantly, we see his reactions to each situation as a human.

Like A Thousand Sons before it, Prospero Burns is a complicated, layered novel. Abnett has essentially remade the Space Wolves here; he keeps very much alive the Nordic spirit that the legion has previously embodied, but purposefully distances them from their barbaric roots. These are not the feral, unthinking wolves of yore; rather, through Hawser we see the intricate and rich culture Abnett has crafted for the Vlka Fenryka. Prospero Burns is a cultural study. Though we see the Wolves in action fighting, like most of Abnett’s work, the battles, while visceral and exciting, are purposeful and sparse. In fact, the actual siege and razing of Prospero accounts for a mere chapter in the entire book. This book is not bolter-porn. The story of Prospero Burns is not the fall of Prospero; rather, the story here is the men of the VI Legion, their culture, and their legacy.

I’ve seen a great deal of criticisms of Prospero Burns, primarily from two dissenting accounts: “there is not enough action” and “I hate that it is told through the eyes of a human, not an astartes.” Both of these complaints frustrate me. Part of the beauty of the Horus Heresy novels is that they are the grounds for the ‘literature’ of the 40k universe. The authors are allowed the freedom to explore ideas of morality and religion, and are allowed the freedom to be creative in doing so. In this regard, Abnett’s novel is supremely successful. As I’ve enunciated previously, Prospero Burns is an anthropological study of the Space Wolves. It documents their rich traditions and way of life of the VI Legion, and with sister novel A Thousand Sons creates a beautiful counterpoint to one another. The Space Wolves and Thousand Sons are perfect foils: one, a pragmatic, knowledge seeking culture driven by the thirst for more; the other an instinctive, tradition-rich and superstitious culture marked not by their ferocity, but rather their restraint. Abnett and McNeill need to be applauded for so deftly intertwining their novels while allowing each to stand firmly on its own ground, while having the foresight—and perhaps even courage—to write these novels from a human perspective; Prospero Burns would not have worked were it told from the eyes of an astartes.

Prospero Burns, as a result, is a masterful work. The novel is cerebral and deep, and while that has apparently garnered detractors, I’ve now read the novel twice and can find little wrong with it. Abnett’s take on the VI legion is brilliant. He has successfully created a story that gives the already tradition-rich VI Legion an even more interesting background, while maintaining some of the best facets of established Space Wolves canon and giving knowing winks to the readership with nods to the VI Legion’s history. His crafting of the astartes characters through the eyes of Hawser is spot on and helps weave a novel that not only stands on its own, but becomes even better when counterpointed with Graham McNeill’s A Thousand Sons. Simply put, Prospero Burns is the best Horus Heresy novel to date, and perhaps the best novel released by the Black Library.

The Bottom Line

Prospero Burns tells the story of the VI Legion astartes, the Space Wolves, through the eyes of human Kasper Hawser. Dan Abnett crafts a purposeful novel at a deliberate pace, showing apt restraint in regards to battles, while creating lasting characters and a rich culture for the Space Wolves. The best of the Horus Heresy novels and perhaps the best the Black Library has to offer.

10/10 Masterful, a must read

[40k Review] The First Heretic - Aaron Dembski-Bowden

The Black Library’s Horus Heresy series has become no less than epic. Spanning 14 books thusfar, the Games Workshop Warhammer 40k IP is being worked hard and worked diligently through the Horus Heresy, and for the most part, each book in the series has been a decent addition to the overall story. With Aaron Dembski-Bowden’s (ADB) first effort in the Horus Heresy, we are treated to a story that is arguably the most important in the series so far, the story of the roots of the Horus Heresy itself, the story of The First Heretic.

The First Heretic details the story of the Word Bearers chapter over nearly 60 years of the Great Crusade, continuing through the Isstvan V Massacre. Detailing the events largely through the eyes of 7th Company Captain Argel Tal, we are taken on a journey that details the fall of the Word Bearers legion from the initial setting off point at Monarchia, where Lorgar and his Word Bearers are forced to kneel in deference to both the Emperor and Roboute Guilliman, to the ultimate point of betrayal at Isstvan V. The story reads much like a Shakespearian tragedy; we know the ultimate fate of our players, yet we can't help to hope that, at the eleventh hour, the story will change. As such, it provides a driving narrative that moves deftly through ADB's adept prose.

The prose that drives the story is, much like the other ADB books, gripping and readable. ADB is one of the best of the Black Library authors at varying sentence structure and creating a narrative that has consistent pacing. He has a great feel for establishing an ebb and flow to the narrative structure that allows for slower, more relaxed portions of story to counterbalance the more tense ones. It all works very well, but mostly due to ADBs biggest strength: his characterization.

Rich characterization is a skill ADB always brings to the table. He has a laudable knack for being able to create characters that the reader can both relate to and cares about, and thus is able to draw his reader further into the story. The First Heretic is no different. Argel Tal is a wonderfully portrayed character. He is deeply loyal, but unlike many of his Word Bearer brethren, his loyalty doesn't turn into zealotry. It makes him stand out as character, particularly because it provides such a strong point of internal conflict. We also get a healthy dose of Kor Phaeron and Erebus, characters previously introduced in other Horus Heresy books, and who, unlike Argel Tal, are certainly not conflicted about their conviction of purpose. Suffice it to say that, in The First Heretic, the roles that both Erebus and Kor Phaeron have to play in the greater space opera that is the Horus Heresy come into even greater light. Though we do see much of the story through the eyes of the Astartes, it Is through the characterization of the Primarch Lorgar that ADB's prose really shines.

Lorgar is an incredibly polarizing figure in this novel. Unlike the primarch’s we’ve seen in other books, Lorgar is, and I’ll quote a friend here, “a bit of a douche.” He isn’t Hurculean like Ferrus Manus or Leman Russ. He isn’t magnanimous like Gulliman or Dorn. He isn’t influential like Horus or Magnus. Lorgar is the Golden Primarch and is described as, essentially, a Primarch-sized Egyptian boy-emperor. He’s whiny, he’s petulant, and worst of all, he’s far more naïve than any Primarch should be. In a particularly telling, and poignant scene, Lorgar asks his advisors what his fault as a Primarch is. He is told, “you trust too much, and too easily.” It is a weakness that makes Lorgar far more human than any previous Primarch, and perhaps could make his fall all the more bitter; however, the manner in which his naiveté leads to his downfall makes him appear simply weak. That’s not to say his is a bad, or poorly developed, character—he’s quite the contrary. Lorgar is a really well fleshed out character that is simply hard to like or sympathize with because of his faults.

This is a complicated book in many respects. On one level, The First Heretic is similar to Fulgrim and A Thousand Sons, in that it is a chronicling of the fall from grace of one of the Emperor’s chosen sons. Unlike the other primarchs, Lorgar is a far less sympathetic character than both Fulgrim and Magnus. Where both Fulgrim and Magnus fall due to their arrogance in service to the Emperor despite the best intentions, Lorgar’s fall is much less pitiable as his naiveté and blind faith serve to betray him. That faith, and the nature of faith itself, serves to set this book above as not simply a science fiction novel—as so many Black Library novels are cast aside—but as a piece of literature. We saw a glimpse of this depth in the short story “The Last Church” from Tales of Heresy, but ADB really explores this theme at great length in The Last Heretic. Now, there’s no confusing The Last Heretic for Aquinas, but I really applaud both ADB and the Black Library for tackling these very real and applicable themes.

In The First Heretic, Aaron Dembski-Bowden has crafted a very important book in the scope of the Horus Heresy, the Warhammer 40k canon and IP, and the Black Library. Echoing the epitaph on the novel’s cover, ADB explores the roots of the Heresy and we are introduced to information that is both staggering and heartbreaking. Additionally, The First Heretic marks the first time themes beyond good and evil are explored to such an extent in a Black Library novel. The Horus Heresy novels are quickly becoming the vessel for the Black Library to create ‘real’ literature, to craft stories that examine those universal themes that turn books into literature and movies into films. The First Heretic leads the charge, and Aaron Dembski-Bowden’s work is a wonderful entry to the Horus Heresy series and a superb piece of literature that should not be missed.

9.5/10 Masterful