This earlier trilogy by Tepper features some of the same themes she developed in her later books, especially that of justice as opposed to obeying the rules (laws). She shows the reader that distinction clearly without preaching; the philosophy never gets in the way of the story. On the surface, this is a fairly standard fantasy novel with the epic struggle between

Although human nature yearns for rules and procedures, it also consistently bends/twists/breaks those rules for personal gain. Justice is simultaneously more difficult and more important. Another theme is the way those with power (in these stories, with Talent) use those without (the pawns) as if they are expendable, unimportant lesser beings. In the Land of the True Game, these pawns are both men and women but this same injustice is specifically aimed at women in the domain of the Magicians (who hail from "Home", which is presumably Earth).

I find these themes interesting, but they were more thoroughly threshed out in some of her later novels (the Grass trilogy, Northside and Southside, etc.) ( )

2.5 little to complex to hold my attention. didn't care much about the characters ( )

Lack of diversity in this work is hardly unexpected. The entire colony is a thousand years old and started from the families of the power-elite of one Earth country. The prime candidates for such a country (other than China -- in which case there would still be no diversity) tend to have majority populations of whites. Starting with such a small group, and allowing for a thousand years of cross breeding, it's hard to see how any other racial types could have endured.

Sherri S. Tepper wrote three delightful little interconnected fantasy trilogies with a science fiction core back in the 1980s. These books are now rather obscure and quite difficult to find. The first trilogy features the eponymous Mavin Many-Shaped; the second, her son Peter; and the third, his sweetheart Jinian. I stumbled over the series bass-ackwards during my peripatetic youth. I spent a few years traveling between seasonal jobs and habitually browsed used bookstores to pick up cheap, interesting paperbacks, then discarded them at the next stop (I went through a lot of Dick Francis novels that way).

Thus I found Jinian Footseer. It was an imaginative fantasy novel featuring an intrepid young heroine confronting the challenges of adolescence as much as her magical quest, and very much a palate cleanser after the many derivative works I’d ingested by that point. About ten years ago, after I settled down, I visited a local bookstore and found The True Game omnibus edition of the Peter stories alongside The End of the Game omnibus of the Jinian stories. Although I typically do not purchase hardcover fiction, I did not hesitate to acquire these two volumes. I finally got to read Jinian’s entire story and the complementary Peter storyline. They were very much worth the wait.

I lacked only the Mavin books. Over the years, I patiently scoured used bookstores everywhere. I search online as well without success. But last year, finally, the local Half-Price Books had the entire trilogy in excellent condition—clearly someone had liquidated their inventory to my benefit. The broad parameters of the Mavin books were no surprise, given that I was already familiar with later events that built upon the earlier stories, but that did not hinder the joy of discovery. These books are all keepers, and I am glad that I can finally stop searching.

The series addresses fundamental social issues. The Mavin books feature strong feminist themes, while the Peter books (King's Blood Four, Necromancer Nine, and Wizard's Eleven) concentrate on class differences and more general social justice. Finally, the Jinian books (Jinian Footseer, Dervish Daughter, and Jinian Star-eye) take all of these and combine them with spiritual and environmental concerns on par with Aldo Leopold’s land ethic in something of a science fiction context of first contact.

The stories take place primarily in the Land of the True Game, where Gamesmen have various magical talents, such as teleporting (Elators), mindreading (Demons), telekinesis (Tragamors), flying (Sentinels), beguiling (Kings, Queens, etc.), and changing shape (Shifters). Their frequently short, interesting lives generally consist of exercising their talents in various Games, which range from one-on-one duels to large-scale wars. Caught up in these Games as well are the untalented lower-class pawns who actually keep civilization going as farmers, merchants, servants, etc. And a third class of people are the Immutables who not only are immune to the talents of Gamesmen, but also effectively neutralize their talents, thus creating a safe zone bordering the Land of the True Game.

Being a biology geek, I love the mix of familiar and strange: horses and zellers, rabbits and bunwits. Tepper creates a delightful alien world with its own ecology and logic. From the arboreal towns that straddle giant tree limbs crossing the depths of an enormous chasm in The Flight of Mavin Many-Shaped to the self-aware Chimmerdong Forest in Jinian Footseer, Tepper explores how nature and culture might commingle in new and interesting ways. Also, I particularly enjoyed the scathing satire of academia reduced to absurdity in Necromancer Nine.

Peter’s story begins in King’s Blood Four as a foundling who grew up at a boarding school. After being injured in a Game, he discovers that he is Mavin’s son and is sent away in the company of the servant Chance. As is always the case in these stories, he meets many interesting people such as Silkhands the Healer and the Wizard Himaggery (his father) and Seer Windlow and falls into adventures. In Necromancer Nine, Peter searches for his famous mother (more adventures ensue). Finally, in Wizard’s Eleven, Peter meets Jinian, and the book ends with the climactic Battle of the Wastes of Bleer.

The largest deficit in this series is the lack of diversity. In effect, we have an entire human colony filled with only white people as far as I can tell. And all of the characters are straight and able-bodied and so on. The characters are not particularly deep or complex, not surprising in plot-driven novels that average less than two hundred pages each. And they follow the standard fantasy formula of good triumphing over evil, with characters readily falling in one camp or the other. This is not to say that poignancy is lacking. Each trilogy has a bittersweet ending that encompasses profound loss as part of the cost of success, all part of the heroic formula, I suppose, along the lines of sacrifice for the greater good. And depending on your politics, you may object to the underlying political/ethical/moral messages in these stories. Personally, the Shadowpeople’s traditional greeting resonates: lolly duro balta lus lom (walk well upon the lovely land). ( )