“The Raven Scholar,” Book 1 of the Eternal Path trilogy, is a book that makes you feel as if you were born yesterday. With twists, turns and unexpected developments, it seems as if Antonia Hodgson is merely playing with the reader—like a cat with a ball of yarn—subverting your expectations and making you question everything you thought you knew about fantasy. However, Hodgson lays out her plans with care and intention, like an architect sculpting her magnum opus or a spider, its eyes on one particularly juicy fly. Each carefully selected interaction has ramifications on the plot not fully understood or felt until much later, and as everything comes to light and you begin to understand what the author knew all along, you can almost feel Hodgson’s eyes watching over the entire story, surveying the effect of the land mines she laid in advance.
The world-building of “The Raven Scholar” will be familiar to avid readers of fantasy. The commoners live in poverty and are discriminated against by the nobles—those from the High Houses. In place of one god, this book has eight Guardians: the Fox, the Raven, the Tiger, the Ox, the Bear, the Monkey, the Hound and the Dragon. Anyone can visit a temple and affiliate with a Guardian of their choice. Affiliating with a Guardian determines not only who you spend the majority of your time with, but the type of work you do and how others see you.
Every 24 years, seven contenders from each of the Guardians’ contingents compete in a series of trials for the throne—except for the Dragon contingent, which does not desire the throne but sends a proxy in their name. It is believed the Guardians have already saved the world seven times and, if forced to return an eighth time, will destroy the world and all those who live in it.
While the book is set in a highly religious world, belief in the Eight is not universal and is far from proven. This creates an interesting dynamic in which the Eight are simultaneously revered and feared by believers and shunned by nonbelievers. The way different characters respond to this belief system is telling and offers a glimpse into their inner lives. While the structure of “The Raven Scholar”world is largely archetypal, the plot and environment are so thoroughly interwoven that you could look at the setting under a microscope and not find a loose stitch.
The setting is interesting not because of the broad strokes of the world, but because of the intricate details seamlessly embedded into the plot. Take the fact that each contingent has its own unique salute used when meeting someone for the first time or paying respect to someone of higher status, or the detailed footnotes that appear at the bottom of many pages.
On page 60, the author notes that it was imperative for the Bear Monastery to find a new abbot (meaning the leader or superior of a collective of monks, but in this story’s context, the head of one of the contingents) and includes a footnote:
“Brother Lanric (1440–1583), born Quen Quereka of the Venerant Querekas. Disowned by his family at age 17, he embarked on a life of piracy. Captured in 1465, Quen was sent to the Ketuan prison mines for life. In 1472, he experienced three powerful dream encounters with the Fifth Guardian, as told in “Prisoner Quen and the Bear,” after which he took the name Lanric, meaning ‘little friend of the Bear’ in the old tongue. Pardoned in 1474, following a series of miracles. Entered Anat-garra as a mature recruit and became abbot nine years later, in 1483.”
Not even a side character mentioned three times in the entire book (if we’re being generous) is left without a reasonably coherent backstory.
The book offers a wide cast of diverse and well-drawn characters from distinct backgrounds and various parts of Orrun, the empire in which the story takes place. The first three chapters are told from the perspective of Yanara Valit, daughter of Andren Valit, the Great Traitor. Yanara—referred to as Yana in the story—her twin brother Ruko, their younger sister Nisthala, and their mother, Yasila, have been living their lives under a microscope, constantly surveilled by resentful townspeople and distrustful neighbors. An explosive scene where loyalty and ambition clash pits the siblings against one another and leaves Yasila crushed and broken—and Ruko Valit a contender for the throne.
The narrative then shifts to Neema Kraa, a Raven nobody working as a junior archivist in the Raven palace. We see how morally ambiguous decisions early in Neema’s career led her to become High Scholar, working directly under the emperor. We also witness how her relationship with Cain Ballari, a Fox, faltered as a result of those decisions.
The book then skips ahead eight years. The trials for the throne are beginning, and Neema oversees the logistics. Gaida Rack, the Raven contender, has the air of a stereotypical rich popular girl—callous and shallow, a master at deluding herself into thinking she is always right. You’ll want to strangle her every time she appears on the page. Neema does, too.
Cain is the Fox contender. Charming and suave, he may be an airhead—or his careless façade may hide a much more strategic persona. The Hound contender, Shal Worthy, is a respected gentleman—kind and empathetic, but scarred by his past experiences with the Valits. Tala, the Ox contender, is warm and friendly but less instinctive than the others. Though well-liked, she’s considered a non-threat.
Katsan, the Bear contender, is one of the most multifaceted characters in the book. Older than the rest, Katsan’s journey is shaped by a looming challenge none of the others can avoid but only he must confront: time. The Monkey contender, Havoc, appears amiable—if a bit generic—but the most asinine exteriors often belie the most complex depths.
And then there’s Ruko Valit, the Tiger contender—the bombshell. He’s out for blood.
While the world-building and characters are strong, the plot is the highlight. After the murder of Gaida Rack early in the trials, Neema is forced to take her place as the Raven contender—while simultaneously leading the investigation into Gaida’s murder. Everyone is a suspect, even Neema herself.
As she unravels the mystery, she uncovers corruption that runs deeper than she could have imagined. Friends become enemies. Unlikely allies emerge—one of them being the Raven itself. All the Ravens that are, all the Ravens that were, all the Ravens that will be.
Hodgson, with the mind of a chess master, seems to know exactly what readers will think—and then does the opposite. If you think you know what’s going to happen next, you don’t.
In conclusion, “The Raven Scholar” is a marvelous manuscript—meticulously planned and deviously plotted. As you follow Neema’s journey, you’ll find yourself caring for the characters you once despised, and doubting the ones you once loved. Hodgson not only challenges the mind but plays with the heart, dangling it off a cliff and letting it sway in the wind.
Prepare to be astonished and enchanted by the intrigue and scandal of “The Raven Scholar,” and dazzled by Neema’s courage and brilliance. Her social ineptitude becomes endearing as the story progresses, and her rocky road to reconciliation with Cain may carve a permanent place in your heart.
Enjoy the ride. The journey is magnificent.
