Wells is a new author to the Star Wars
universe. It's about time for me to pull apart one of her books and
see what she's about. Razor's Edge
is a part of Empire and Rebellion,
a trilogy of novels set during the years of the first Star
Wars films. Well I say a
trilogy, I mean a trilogy kicked off by an “unrelated” Timothy
Zahn book to draw the Expanded Universe audience back to the era.
Well, I say a trilogy plus one, I mean an era that has enough comics
and novels to definitively prove that Han, Luke and Leia did not have
time to sleep between Death Stars. Well, I say that, I mean I like
that scene from “Army of Ghosts” a little too much. In any case,
Razor's Edge is set in
the general vicinity of Splinter of the Mind's Eye,
Allegiance, Choices
of One and Scoundrels,
though I think I can more definitively state that it is set later
than Scoundrels but
before Allegiance,
giving us a freelancer Han who has come to enjoy Leia's company, a
Leia who doesn't know what to think about Han and has come to trust
Luke, and a Luke who is still a green recruit with something to
prove.
It
is with this cast that we embark on the story of Razor's
Edge, in which Leia's diplomatic
mission – with Han Solo as escort – is attacked by both Imperials
and pirates, each of which seems to know a lot more about their
movements than they have any right to. It's not long from there
before Han and Leia become captives of the pirates, and Luke and
Chewbacca are dispatched to rescue them.
If
this sounds like a standard Star Wars
set-up, you're right, but it does deviate from the mold. Where from
one of the long-time Star Wars
authors, such as Timothy Zahn, Kevin J. Anderson, or Aaron Allston
this set up would include a story about Luke and Chewie's exploits up
until their rendezvous with Leia's group, in Razor's Edge
Well slices this side story off like one might trim the fat from the
side of a pork chop. I don't use that analogy by accident – while
a skilled chef might be able to use that fat to season the rest of
the meat, its loss does not greatly hurt the overall dish, and may
result in less unnecessary padding. So it is in Razor's
Edge, where Han and Leia have no
need for Luke to stumble into information about the enemy; they are
perfectly capable of finding it on their own.
Unfortunately,
without this side-plot, there's really no reason for Luke to be here.
Lando Calrissian would actually have been a better companion, if not
for the fact that Leia is not intended to meet him for several more
years. Luke shows up about halfway through the book, spends most of
the time aboard the Falcon,
and has one scene where he does something exciting but not
particularly memorable. I can't help but wonder if his inclusion at
all wasn't a bit of a marketing decision: Luke, Han, Leia and
Chewbacca in each book of the trilogy. Come to think of it, Han got
his own book in Scoundrels;
there's no reason this couldn't have been Leia's book without her
brother or future husband, with later books being dedicated to Chewie
and Luke. This would give each of the characters some breathing room
for once (I expect once I truly dig into the timeline of this era, I
will find that every day of this part of the war has been
meticulously plotted), plus the fact that I just gave an opening for
a Chewbacca book!
Okay, Chewie was in Scoundrels,
but isn't it about time for a book from Chewbacca's point of view
detailing some of the more important events in his life that we don't
normally see to be written? It's high time for the foreign friend no
one can understand to have his moment in the sunshine, but I digress.
Luke
isn't the only reason I think this book would have been better
without the added weight of Leia's traditional companions. She
spends much of this book with Han, which is largely a good thing.
Each has the opportunity to shine in their own type of story. The
problem is where they collide. Razor's Edge
is trapped between the era it takes place in and the era in which it
was written. That means that even though many readers would find any
setup for the relationship between Leia and Han tedious, it's
actually needed as it hasn't been explored at this stage yet. On top
of that, no matter how far it goes, both the author and the reader
are fully aware that the couple's first kiss will not happen for
several more years. The result of this odd positioning is that out
of nowhere there are a number of really awkward scenes of Han and
Leia each acting like borderline sex offenders, staring at one
another at really odd moments with no explanation, even a moment
where Leia yells at Han for being too sexy while he positions not to
get a painful cramp during an important security discussion. There's
really no way to win here, as some fans would feel cheated were this
mini-sub-plot left out completely, and it's clear that this is not
the focus of the book.
Another
moment where Han and Leia crashing into one another is a bit more
literal. Han has a very specific style of heroism about him most of
the time. He is an action-comedy character, the one who accidentally
saves the day, or does so intentionally in the most humiliating way
possible. Even when there's nothing funny about the act in and of
itself, it still tends to come at a particularly opportune moment,
such as Han's method of saving Luke from the Death Star.
Unfortunately, this clashes with Leia's subplot, which is one that
allows her to partake in all the action-adventure heroism that is
more frequently associated with male characters while not diminishing
her role as a woman and a diplomat. All of this can't help but come
across as a commentary, intentional or not, on the state of Science
Fiction in general, as the writing and portrayal of heroines is a
hotly contested issue across the board at the moment. None of the
things I've described are problems on their own, but when you add a
bumbling hero with a tendency to save people at the last minute to a
heroine who tends to put herself in harm's way and is also attractive
to him, it's very simple to send the wrong message by accident. It's
easy to see the steps that led up to this mistake, which makes it all
that much more understandable, but also all that much more
disappointing.
The
last minor complaint I have about Razor Edge
– and one that keeps it from being the 1970s-1990s era Star
Wars book it comes close to
being – is the humor. While I mention that Han is a bumbling
comedic hero, he is still written here as more of the somber veteran
than the noble clown. This book about piracy, slavery, death and
betrayal could really use some comic interludes to lighten the tone
at times, but the “lean cut” I described earlier keeps everything
focused on just how dreary and dark things are. There are a few
light-hearted or comedic moments, but for characters that lend
themselves so naturally to such moments, there are relatively few.
Where's Blue Max when you need him, eh?
Razor's Edge
is a good book, with some great action. This might be the first time
we really see Han and Leia – correct that, Leia and Han
– starring in an action novel of this sort, and while Han pulls out
all of the stops that you expect from someone who has done this way
too many times now, Leia really shines as she is put to the test in
every conceivable way. As somebody who owns and loves a wide variety
of Star Wars novels,
the negatives I pointed out didn't go a huge way toward dampening my
spirits while reading, but they did lead to some raised eyebrows and
hold me back from considering this to be one of my favorite Star
Wars novels of all time. If
Ewoks, Wes Janson and dreadnaughts shaped like a lightsaber are
essential to your Star Wars
experience this might be one to pass over – ditto if swinging
lightsabers and mind tricks are – but if you count Scoundrels,
Rogue Squadron and
Republic Commando as
your cup of tea, you won't regret picking up Razor's Edge.





