Paul Hoffman’s imagination certainly can’t be faulted. In the four-hundred or so pages of The Left Hand of God, he manages to create a wonderfully unique and quirky world. The plot is relatively standard fantasy-quest fare – a whole host of twists and turns leading central character Cale from his oppression at the hands of a strict religious order to the vast, opulent city of Memphis. It’s not the plot that makes the novel stand out though – if I’m completely honest, the plot actually lets the book down a little, it’s all perhaps a little too convoluted. No, what makes Cale’s adventures stand out is the sheer idea’s Hoffman draws on, as well as his highly distinct writing style.
His tone is highly colloquial, reading the book, you feel as if he’s sat there opposite you, relating this vast saga over a glass or two of wine. It’s all a little bit of this, a little bit of that; everything helping to contribute to this patchwork world that seems to hold certain similarities to our own (mentions to Norway among others), but so many other differences.
On the whole, this works to the book’s favour – indeed, it is its biggest draw. But there are times when it can grow tiresome – this book is full of digressions, many holding no relevance to the central plot. Yes, it could be argued they add to the world of the novel, but there’s only so many quirky deviations you can tolerate before you feel like saying ‘get on with it’. Rest assured, if there’s something Hoffman can say in two words, he’ll use twenty instead.
That word again, ‘quirky’. The Left Hand of God is very much a product of the ‘random’ school of writing. Authors like Lemony Snicket are the masters of it – that wry, humorous slant on everything; even the darkest of matters like death and hardship.
Which brings me to a matter I found rather troublesome – who exactly this book is aimed at. It’s definitely not for children – swear-words are frequent, as are sexual references and on the whole a rather grim tone of black humour that pervades through the whole book. Equally though, the book definitely doesn’t feel like it’s for adults either. The central characters are children and the ‘quirky’ tone, as mentioned above, often works against itself. Teenagers then perhaps? They certainly seem the most viable audience for the book.
The issue of the intended audience always seems to rear its head in regards to fantasy novels (of which, The Left Hand of God most definitely is), but it seems even more prevalent here. The difficulty to place the novel is representative of the ever-shifting, undefined quality that seems to cloak so many elements of the plot and its characters. Cale might be young, but he is also a highly trained killer, and one who will do so without a shred of remorse. Again, it’s almost unsettling to imagine this boy journeying around ending lives so ruthlessly, as he does in one scene where he effortlessly kills eight men in about as many minutes.
I also found the portrayal of the female characters in the book rather troublesome too – so often they seemed reduced to mere sensual objects, mostly described in regards to their appearance or how they might best interact with men.
Let’s pick up on some of the more positive aspects though – If you’re a fan of vivid characters and lots of backstabbing and treachery, The Left Hand of God will be right up your street. For a fantasy novel, it’s refreshing to see something so focused on its characters and the book really feels propelled by their dealings with one-another. Much of this centres around favours, the plot unfolding around a twisted web of benefits and bonuses for those skilled characters who best manage to eke out an existence in this immensely competitive world.
Competitiveness is another key element of the book – as you might expect of a classic fantasy novel, there’s plenty of fight scenes and swordplay. Here, it’s all about hyper-skilled characters, the real crème de la crème fighting other extremely talented individuals. And while at times it all feels a little Top Trumps (he’s just that little bit stronger/faster so he wins the fight), it’s good fun and well-written stuff.
And so, just as so many elements of The Left Hand of God are hard to pin down, so to is it hard to decide what I ultimately make of the book. I was certainly entertained, and Hoffman’s imagination is undeniable. But so often I felt the plot dragged immensely as the characters went through the processes again of unpacking their own individual philosophies on life or what skills they posses. As such, the book feels an unnecessarily bulky beast. There are many cuts of prime fantasy fare to be found here for sure, but you feel that if only everything was more lean and streamlined, the whole affair would be that whole lot more enjoyable.
