The Heroes

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Wetterlant simply turned away. ‘We stand! We stand and fight!’ He was a proud man of a proud family, and he would stand. He would stand until the bitter end, if necessary, and die fighting with sword in hand, as his grandfather was said to have done. He would die under the regimental colours. Well, he wouldn’t, in fact, because that boy he ran through had torn them from the pole when he fell. But Wetterlant would stand, there was no question. He had often told himself so. Usually while admiring his reflection in the mirror after dressing for one official function or another. Straightening his sash.

Miren deben tener en cuenta que las personas se comportan de manera estúpida casi todo el tiempo. Los viejos cuando se emborrachan. Las mujeres en las ferias de las aldeas. Los chavales cuando les lanzan piedras a los pájaros. Así es la vida. Está repleta de necedad y vanidad, de egoísmo y de derroche. De una mezquindad y tontería. Pero creen que en la guerra eso va a ser distinto, que va a ser todo mucho mejor. Que como la muerte aguarda a la vuelta de la esquina, todos se unirán frente a las adversidades y juntos combatirán al astuto enemigo, que la gente pensará más mejor y mas rápido. Que todo será…mejor. Que serán héroes. The Big Chief stepped forward and grunted in rage as he swung Dreadblade in a murderous arc, cleaving the Gooch in two. He shit himself and collapsed on the ground with a deafening crash, lifeblood streaming out of his shit-stinking body like the rivers of beer pissed in Northern halls on the eve of hard-won victories. The fool's tasks lined up in crushingly tedious procession. Run. Practice. Shit a turd. Write a letter. Eat. Watch. Write a turd. Shit a letter. Eat. Bed. The Farsnsbury Flopper whipped out a twinned pair of repeating crossbows and shot several bolts into each of the Gooch's eyes, which burst in sprays of glistening gore. The Gooch groaned and sunk to his knees, clawing at his eyes, as puke jabbed his molars. The idea of writing a whole book about one battle over the course of three days felt somehow both refreshing and stale. I've never read a fantasy book that has such a limited scope before, which will good also made me hungry for the larger world and the grand scope of things that the First Law Trilogy did so well.Este libro pertenece a las novelas independientes de la Primera Ley. Sin embargo, yo no lo consideraría como tal. Si algo he aprendido leyendo por orden estos libros es que te destripas mucho sobre los personajes de la primera saga. Además, te los encuentras en estos libros bien como protagonistas o como personajes secundarios. But not by much. True, it didn’t offer a lot of variety in setting and plot (which I think accounts for why some may not have liked it as much) but it did make up for it considerably with good characters and a really creative execution of the story. It’s essentially a series of battles in the north that take place over the course of just a few days. Bouncing around POVs, it provided insight into what the battle experience was like from every perspective. In that regard I really appreciate the total immersion. There was one battle scene in particular that was done so creatively I’ve never seen anything like it before. Abercrombie’s deft writing style continues to impress me more with every book. He’s definitely solidified among my favorites. The real power of this novel is on the exploration of the characters on both sides of the scrimmage, measuring what makes a hero and what makes one something else. On the North side, you have a crew of barbarians akin to Vikings or Cimmerians to whom battle is all. Indeed, many of these mighty warriors can do little else. And, it being the North, one man's enemy today is one man's ally the next and vice versa. Loyalty is great, but it can change like your wardrobe. In the next novel, "The Flavor of Vengeance" he tells a classic story of revenge but with a decidedly unpleasant and hard to digest protagonist. Then "The Heroes" arrives and the applause starts again. Abercrombie does an excellent job, both in the preparation of the battle, focusing on the many characters involved, and in the incredible action scenes in which the realism and drama emerges forcefully. Masterful.

The Heroes is without a doubt the biggest surprise of 2022 as of yet. I went into this story expecting not to enjoy it. However, Abercrombie has again proven worthy of the title “Lord Grimdark”. The Heroes is a riveting, entertaining and thought-provoking story with incredible characters. I can’t wait to read Red Country next!Joder, por las santas barbas de Abercrombie, qué puñetera obra de arte cruda salpicada y manchada con total impunidad y cinismo. La narrativa y prosa de Abercrombie es algo sublime, bien pulida, es accesible y logra ser vívida para el lector. Los diálogos son un puto orgasmo crudo y cínico. Una delicia a la par con los personajes. Abercrombie para mi es el mejor en esto. Una verdadera gozada. Y ha mejorado por increíble que parezca.

Alguna vez has pensado en ponerte un parche? —inquirió Craw, mientras tomaba su espada y la deslizaba en su vaina. His wonderful Sixth Regiment, his life’s work, built out of copious polish, and rigorous drill, and unflinching discipline, utterly shattered in a few insane moments. If any survived it would be those who had chosen to run first. The rawest recruits and most craven cowards. And he was one of them. His first instinct was to ask Major Culfer for his opinion. He almost opened his mouth to do it, then realised the man had been butchered by a lunatic with a metal eye. Lasmark turned, hoping he wouldn’t trip and catch a mouthful of barley, and urged his men forward with what was intended to be a soldierly jerk of the hand. I bloody know,’ gasped Lasmark, no breath to spare for moaning now, ‘I can’t hear a word he’s … oh.’

Names turned over by time, like the plough turning the soil. Bringing up the new while the old were buried in the mud.” He could not stay here. He would never make it to the river. But he could not stay here. It had to be now. He broke from the undergrowth, running for the shallows. There were other runners everywhere, most of them without weapons. Mad, desperate faces, eyes rolling. Wetterlant saw the cause of their terror. Horsemen. Spread out across the fields, converging on the shallows, herding the fleeing Union soldiers southwards. Cutting them down, trampling them, their howls echoing across the valley. He ran on, ran on, stumbling forwards, snatched another look. A rider was bearing down on him, he could see the curve of his teeth in a tangled beard. Lasmark could only swallow and ready himself as his men flung down their weapons around him. As they turned and ran for the river or the hill, too far, far too far away. As the makeshift line of his company and the company beside them dissolved leaving only a few knots of the most stunned and hard-bitten to face the Northmen. He could see how many there were, now. Hundreds of them. Hundreds upon hundreds. A flung spear impaled a man beside him with a thud, and he fell screaming. Lasmark stared at him for a moment. Stelt. He’d been a baker. Prince’ Calder (POV) – Bethod’s younger son, an infamous schemer, temporarily exiled for suggesting peace too.

A full behind-the-scenes interview with Joe Abercrombie covering the writing process, the importance of maps, the genesis of and influences on the novel, the six main characters and their story arcs, and the cover . . . amongst other things! The Rostod Regiment was outnumbered. Several companies were still following Popol blithely off towards Osrung where even more Northmen waited. Others had stopped, aware of the approaching threat on their left and seeking desperately to form lines. The Rostod Regiment was heavily outnumbered, and out of formation, and caught unsupported in the open. Probably my favourite POV character in this book was Finree, who's become my favourite Abercrombie POV female character to date. She's even surpassed Carlot Dan Eider as my favourite Abercrombie female character and is now among my favourite POV characters full stop. Unlike Abercrombie's other female POV's she isn't a scarred, impossible deadly warrior woman. Finree's skills are politics and intrigue. I've never liked 'warrior women' in fantasy especially when they're used as excessively as with Abercrombie. I've always found them both improbable( there were ALOT of barriers to a woman fighting in most societies throughout history, that most male authors tend to ignore) and unfair in how they imply that the majority of women who aren't warriors are inherently weak and worthless. Despite her flaws I found Finree a really likeable and admirable character. Esta historia gira en torno tres días que marcaron la historia, tres días sangrientos de la batalla culminante entre la Unión y el Norte. Eso es todo. Esta es la trama principal del puto libro. Tres jodidos y sangrientos días de guerra tan llenos de barro como de gente que vuelve a el, no deja indiferente y ahora venero bajo un altar.He rolled stiffly over, groaning. His sword was gone, his right hand red raw. Twisted from his grip as he fell. The blade his father had given him the day he received his commission in the King’s Own. So proud. He wondered if his father would have been proud now. He was in among trees. The orchard? He had abandoned his regiment. Or had they abandoned him? The rules of military behaviour, so unshakeable a foundation until a few moments ago, had vanished like smoke in a breeze. It had happened so fast.