Took me bloody long enough. Everyone talks up Mercedes Lackey, but I finally gave her a try with this. And I started here because I am fundamentally predictable and of course I did. Also a friend of mine liked it.
Did I like Magic's Pawn? Yes. Will you like Magic's Pawn? That depends. How do you feel about angst and suffering?
Magic's Pawn is a classic fantasy coming-of-age story featuring a medieval-ish setting, magic, and wizards with magical horses with telepathy who work rather like dragons do in Pern but without the ability to teleport and rather more ability to control the link on both sides (which is to say that the phrase "rising to mate" does not appear in this book, thank god). It's set in Lackey's Valdemar setting, which I haven't double-checked the spelling of yet so I might have messed it up. While not the first Valdemar book, it seems to have been somewhat early, as the earliest works in the setting seem to be from 1985 and this was published in 1989. I'm given to understand it's a prequel to most of the (many, many, many) other novels in the setting, and that its hero is somewhat of a legendary figure in those later novels. To once again draw analogies to Pern (which came a bit earlier but I would say is rather in the same tradition), it seems like this would be your Moreta's Ride in terms of significance and position in the series. Again, this is just what I've been told
I will go out on a limb here and guess that there are probably two strong opinions people might have about this book. One is probably that it's a great fantasy novel about a sympathetic hero struggling to move beyond intense trauma. The other is probably that it's a pointless angst-fest that heaps suffering upon its insufferably irritating whiny idiot of a protagonist for no reason. I will also go out a limb and say that which side of that you fall on will largely be predicted by how you feel about Shinji Ikari.
Which isn't to say Vanyel Ashkevron is the same character as Shinji Ikari is, but there are certain similarities you might notice. Both of them were deeply impacted by the neglect of a father who never seemed to want them. Both of them struggle to connect with those around them, despite a deep-seated need for exactly that connection. Both of them wrestle with their own feeling of lacking worth, and both of them are ultimately brought to their darkest moments after the world punishes them harshly for finally opening up to someone. If you take an intersection of Evangelion (that is, the original series plus EoE) and Magic's Pawn's summaries, keeping only the things that are the same, you end up with something that is more recognizable as a summary of either work than you might expect, even though they are radically different works in a lot of really important ways.
For what it's worth, I find Vanyel a more sympathetic than I ever found Shinji. "Oh, that's because he's gay, right?" No, actually (sidenote: Yes, Vanyel is gay. This is actually extremely plot-relevant, probably should have said it earlier). It's because while Vanyel is more traumatized than I will probably ever be, I can relate to his responses to that pain and trauma a lot more than Shinji's. I look at what he does, how he thinks, and all I can think is that if I wasn't as lucky as I was, that could have easily been me. In fact, sometimes it was me—When I was telling someone about this, I laid out some of the thoughts of a younger me that I had found somewhat similar to what had been happening, only to turn to the next page and see those very thoughts written in ink, down to the ordering.
I said I could relate to you, book. Don't make this weird.
I don't think that I'm particularly unique in this regard. I think a lot of people can probably relate to this protagonist on some level. And while it definitely gave me a bias towards this book, there are other things I like. The worldbuilding isn't exactly the most original, but it's very pleasant. The cast is largely likeable unless they're not suppoosed to be, although how fleshed out a given character is varies, and a few of tjem could maybe use a bit more development. On the topic of further suffering, this book actually has a message I don't see a lot in fiction: that a loving relationship is not the same as a healthy one. And that two people who care deeply for each other, who have the best intentions in the world, who would never try to hurt each other, can ultimately end up being profoundly mutually destructive. That's important for people to know.
I don't think Magic's Pawn is a perfect book. No such thing, and there are things I don't like. Pacing can bit a bit awkward at times, for one thing: some parts feel a bit rushed. But it was enjoyable. And in the end... I almost don't care what my opinion is of this book, because reading it made me think of of someone else.
It made me think about a kid who needed this book. Who needed to see people like him in the books he was reading. Someone he could relate to. Who needed to see someone like him who was gay, needed to know that being gay didn't have to mean being anything other than who he was. Who needed to hear that it was okay for him to be that. That it didn't make him unnatural, didn't make him any less. Didn't make him wrong. Didn't mean he couldn't be a hero.
I thought of a kid who needed to see, in the stories he read, in the language he spoke, in the heroes he admired and the characters he cared about, that he wasn't alone. Because hearing it from someone is one thing. Seeing it, in life, in art, in ink on a page... that's another thing entirely.
And maybe if he'd been able to have that, he wouldn't have spent so much time pretending he didn't know what he was. Maybe it wouldn't have taken him as long. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much.
Representation matters, people. If you never see yourself in anything, it makes it so much easier to doubt who you are. To think you can't be real.
I'm not that kid anymore. I haven't been in a long time. But if this book could make things better for someone else, mean something to another kid like that, somewhere, maybe even someone who had it much worse than I did, then I don't know if I can bring myself to care about any criticisms. And I know that that's dumb, and I know that I'm biased: I could say the same with regards to impact of books that I have mercilessly slammed upon reading (Song of Achilles comes to mind). But that is how this book makes me feel.
...I didn't even realize I felt so strongly until I was halfway through writing this. Geez.