When I talk fantasy to someone outside my niche online groups, the most likely author to be mentioned is far and away Brandon Sanderson. I tend to have mixed feelings about his work—he has some real strengths, but some notable weaknesses as well—but Tress of the Emerald Sea is enough of a stylistic experiment that I expected it wouldn’t fall neatly into the same tracks as his other novels. And nine months into the Bingo year, I was still running very short on pirates, so I decided to give it a try.
Tress of the Emerald Sea takes place within Sanderson’s sprawling Cosmere, and longtime fans will recognize the narrator if nothing else, but it’s designed to be accessible for newcomers. It’s told in a style somewhat reminiscent of The Princess Bride, with the fantasy story being narrated as if to an audience in our own world, peppered with winking asides and the narrator’s own commentary.
The story stars the titular Tress, a window-washer on an impoverished island whose love is taken prisoner by a mysterious, dangerous Sorceress, who lives on the other side of a series of nearly impassable seas. To save him, she must smuggle her way off the island, survive pirates, and find some way to manage an impossible voyage. Oh yes, and then confront the most feared person on the planet. There’s that too.
Tress of the Emerald Sea is a voicey novel, and it should be clear from the early stages how that voice will click for you as a reader. It’s a voice that evokes recounting fairy tales to children—for all that it digs into technical details about the spores that make up the seas—mixing the serious and the humorous for a story that maintains a light tone despite plenty of mortal peril. There are times where it feels a touch twee, or overly convinced of its own cleverness, but by and large, it’s engaging and entertaining, making for a fun and easy read.
And the main character is easy to love. She’s wholesome and resourceful, and while she opens the story with few skills that would prepare her for the journey she means to undertake, she learns quickly and cultivates relationships with those who would teach her. Sometimes things fall into place a bit too neatly—whether that’s due to quick learning or to those relationships—and it’s not really the sort of story where the reader truly fears that the lead will fail, but she remains likable enough to make her successes plenty satisfying.
It isn’t the sort of book that means to dig far into thematic nuance, but it offers an aspirational portrait of a character who truly cares about others and will not turn her back on suffering to further her own ends. “Just be a good person” may be easier said than done, but most of the time, the book understands that it’s painting an aspirational, almost folkloric heroine, and as long as it’s striking the right tone, both the characterization and the themes work well.
And the plot? Well, it also works well enough. And given my long-standing dislike of quest plots, perhaps that should be seen as high praise. There are myriad obstacles along Tress’ path, and her struggles to overcome each shape her into the sort of person who can overcome the final hurdle. It’s a structure that doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it’s a classic for a reason, imbuing all the small struggles with a sense of greater meaning in the ultimate quest.
Overall, Tress of the Emerald Sea does a lot of things that Sanderson fans will appreciate while putting it in a whimsical package that’s accessible to newcomers and may well attract people who don’t care for his usual prose style. It’s an easy, fun read that effectively stands alone, and it’s a book where a couple sample chapters should be an excellent barometer for prospective readers determining whether to give it a try.
Recommended if you like: whimsical fantasy, good-hearted heroines, magic systems.
Can I use it for Bingo? Like I said, Pirates. But it’s also hard mode for A Book in Parts.
Overall rating: 15 of Tar Vol’s 20. Four stars on Goodreads.