Strange the Dreamer

Each part in the novel opens with an epigraph that features a dictionary entry defining a word from the Weep language, and thus Taylor’s world-building is firmly established at a level that transcends mere narration, for by creating a separate vocabulary and hinting at published works that exist in the created world beyond the realm of the story itself, Taylor conjures a sense that the arc of this particular narrative is but one of many in a real, concrete world that does indeed exist somewhere. To this end, Part 1 is preceded by the word “shrestha,” which is defined as “when a dream comes true, but not for the dreamer” (3). This foreshadows the major motif and theme that govern Part 1: the power of Lazlo’s dreams, and his ongoing struggle to take up agency in his own story.

Part 1 focuses on developing the inner world of Lazlo as the story’s protagonist, introducing his core conflicts and establishing his role within the fantasy setting of Weep. As a librarian who comes from humble beginning as an orphan at an abbey, he is ridiculed for his lifelong preoccupation with fairy tales, and this very derision for his field of interest paradoxically serves to emphasize its eventual importance within the story. Thus the mythical city of Weep is also well established in Chapter 1, and the sudden appearance of the Tizerkane and the introduction of the narrative’s core conflict—resolving Weep’s as-yet-unnamed problem—takes on the quality of inevitability, for all of Lazlo’s research and passion has been leading him to seize this unique opportunity to pursue his dream.

Identity and Choice is established early as an important theme in Lazlo’s story arc. Chapter 1 opens by revealing that Lazlo’s name is, in essence, not his own; his last name, Strange, merely signifies his orphan status, and even his first name, Lazlo, was taken from someone else’s and has no connection to anything in his past or identity. This distinct lack of a back story emphasizes the disconnection that Lazlo feels from the rather nondescript identity that society has cursorily assigned him for the sake of convenience. However, Lazlo’s identity as both a librarian and a dreamer are further developed in Chapter 2, when the narrative jumps to Lazlo’s adult role in the Great Library of Zosma. Lazlo views stories as “his own hoard of gold” (10), and he garners a reputation for himself as a dreamer because of his odd fascination with fairy tales, which establishes dreams and stories as important motifs in relation to Lazlo’s character development.

The Power of Stories and Fairy Tales is most significantly embodied by the ongoing development of Lazlo’s character, a dynamic that drives many of the events in Part 1, for in addition to offering Lazlo a place of refuge, fairy tales provide important pieces of knowledge that give Lazlo special advantages over other characters. Similarly, in Chapter 5, Lazlo uses the knowledge he gets from Miracles for Breakfast to suggest to Thyon a potential solution to his alchemical problem. Lazlo’s reflection that fairy tales are “reflections of the people who had spun them, and were flecked with little truths” (41) is an important one for the novel as a whole, for this concept both reflects fairy tales’ thematic significance and also foreshadows how Lazlo’s knowledge of fairy tales will continue to serve him well. Lazlo’s knowledge of Weep and its stories also distinguish him from the other delegates in Eril-Fane’s company; he is the only one to speak Weep’s language, and his knowledge of their history and their stories is valued by Eril-Fane because the citizens of Weep have lost all of their knowledge and lore (79). The distinction granted by Eril-Fane’s appreciation for Lazlo’s knowledge thus emphasizes the value of fairy tales and Lazlo’s insights into them.

Part 1 also illustrates vital information about the larger roles of Thyon and Eril-Fane both within the narrative and in opposition to Lazlo specifically. For example, Thyon is established as a foil to Lazlo, for his arrogance and penchant for intellectual theft contrast sharply with Lazlo’s humility and honor. Their initial social positions are likewise polar opposites, for while Lazlo is the timid and overlooked librarian, Thyon is a “paragon, who had the face of a god, in addition to the mind of one” (29) and is favored by the queen and pressured to crack the great alchemical secret of creating gold. Thyon conflicts with Lazlo when he uses Lazlo’s carefully curated records of Weep and its language to endear himself to Eril-Fane and earn a place in the delegation in Chapter 8. The tension between the two characters increases their roles as foils to each other and highlights Lazlo’s compassion and honesty, which give him an advantage in comparison to Thyon. Their rivalry also motivates Lazlo to take agency in pursuing his own dream, instead of letting Thyon masquerade with Lazlo’s hard-earned knowledge.

In a literary sense, Eril-Fane also serves as a sharp contrast to Lazlo’s larger role in the story, for he is framed as a legendary savior whose history is shrouded in mystery, as are the deeds that earned him the nickname “Godslayer.” The framing of Eril-Fane as a conventional hero whose conventionally heroic deeds achieved a conventionally heroic goal is vitally important to setting the stage for the later deconstruction of his character; for in later chapters, Taylor will systematically challenge and invert many of the tropes that inform the classic high fantasy tale. Thus, by initially embracing cliché in the form of Eril-Fane, Taylor prepares the ground for a much more nuanced meta-analysis of common literary patterns. Part 1 ultimately concludes by jumping forward in time to Lazlo’s journey through the desert with the rest of Eril-Fane’s delegation. The final lines state that the company’s arrival at the wondrous city of Weep is not the end of wonder (82), a motif that will propel the narrative into the next chapters as Part 2 explores inversions of wonder and terror.