Swordspoint (Riverside #1)

In terms of queer Fantasy, Swordspoint is one of those titles that gets thrown out a lot in terms of early representation. It’s also a seminal work in the Fantasy of Manners genre, and has a sequel following different characters decades later which I adored (you absolutely can read Privilege of the Sword first, though I anticipate most readers would prefer to start here). In the end I had more reservations about Swordspoint than Privilege, but I’m happy I read it and think there’s a lot to love here.

Elevator Pitch
Richard and Alex live in Riverside, a den of thieves and vice. Alex’s past is a mystery, but the former university student has a particular talent for cutting comments. Richard is a duelist, the best in town at the moment, hired by nobles to settle disputes and defend honor. They end up dragged into the plots of nobility, each of whom has an agenda of their own to try and gather as much possible without caring much who gets hurt.

What Worked For Me
Like a lot of older books, Swordspoint is much more willing to meander than current publishing trends would allow. It’s filled with lush descriptions that build atmosphere, but don’t add much to plot, theme, or characterization. The language itself is beautiful, never quite wordy enough to be condemned as poetic, but clearly thought out. It’s also quite a bit less didactic than current novels, which was a refreshing change of pace. Don’t expect it to tell you what to think, or what to feel. Instead, it presents you with events, and lets you figure out your opinions for yourself.

The city itself is probably my biggest highlight. In some ways it’s remarkably simple. You’ve got the Hill where the rich live, Riverside where nobody who doesn’t live there visits without a deathwish or a sword, and some vague countryside disputes involving wool merchants on strike. These generalities however, open up space for a delightfully believable culture of honor being of the highest virtue in public, but worth little to most in private. We follow the nobility a decent amount in this story, and their conversational barbs are just as intentionally choreographed as Richard’s swordfighting. The nobility’s veneer of civility is only paper thin however, as most are revealed to be scheming, ruthless, lecherous, and abusive to those with less power. Even their legal system is clearly designed to protect their own, while leaving the commoners as expendable pieces for them to abandon when convenient.

Our ‘lead’ characters are an interesting set. I wouldn’t go so far as to call them a healthy, well adjusted couple, but their dynamic was and engaging counterpoint to the cutesy gay men I see a lot of in fantasy these days. Alex isn’t much concerned with appearances or honor, but to Richard these are of paramount importance. To be honest, I’d have been happy to read an entire book of them lounging about, going to plays, and watching Richard practice fencing shirtless in their musty corner of an abandoned manor.

What Didn’t Work for Me
I think the ‘plot’ of the story was one of the weaker points. For all that this book centers political intrigue, I didn’t actually think these elements were developed particularly well. There’s a couple reveals as the motivations and actions of characters near the end that probably should have shocked me and dramatically caused me to rethink past events of the story, but lack of adequate setup for some of the stakes of these games made the reveals on the shallow end.

It didn’t help that Alex and Richard are mostly pawns in these games. For most of the book they are entirely reactive, without a ton of agency. Instead, the plot unfurls through the viewpoints of a few noble characters: a scheming duchess, her lover who wants the city’s highest position, an elderly man whose power has waned (but his sex drive and pride haven’t) and a brash young man pining for what he can’t have. Alex and Richard being their pawns makes sense from a realism standpoint, but it didn’t make for an interesting setup for a political book.

On the subject of queer representation, while I do like the imperfect and flawed nature of Alex and Richard’s relationship, the book falls into some weird bits. For all that the marriages of this world are heterosexual, I think every significant male character (with one exception) is bisexual. Oddly, this is not the case when it comes to women, who only have attraction for men. It’s tough to not see this, at least a bit, as falling into classic ‘gay men written by women’ tropes, where gay sexuality is fetishized. On the flip side though, older men sexually chasing young men who aren’t interested was a pretty major plotline. To be fair, the same-sex relationships aren’t much better though, so at least Kushener is equal with how she displays the depravity of humanity. I’m not mad or upset at this book, but I do think it shows its age with how it approaches homosexuality. I’m glad it exists, but I’m also glad we’ve grown as a genre since then.

In Conclusion: a book with delightful vibes, but a political plot sabotaged through poor framing and reactive leads.

• Characters – 4
• Worldbuilding – 4
• Craft – 3
• Themes – 3
• Enjoyment – 4