Magic, rather than operating according to coherent rules, works (or fails to work) as the plot demands, in often self-contradictory ways. In lieu of organic characterization, the reader is bluntly told what characters are supposed to be like. So he plumbs the thesaurus for fancy synonyms without understanding their connotative meaning, claims to have invented a new language when all he's done is made up a couple dozen words, and sends his protagonist on a textbook hero's journey without any idea how to make that journey compelling. But the author has pretensions to, well, pretentiousness. Had he ripped off Star Wars more closely, Eragon might have been a gripping narrative, if nothing else. Actually, that may be giving Paolini too much credit. But, as many other reviewers have said, Eragon is a shameless copy of Star Wars: A New Hope cloaked in generic high fantasy tropes. This is a relatively minor issue in the book, though, and were the content worth reading, it wouldn't be enough to stop me from recommending the book. They're the most beautiful, magical, and good creatures in Paolini's derivative world, and anyone who disagrees with them is either stupid, evil, or both. You see, the elves in this book are atheists, which would be fine in and of itself, but they're also an entire race of Mary-Sues. The most surprising thing about this otherwise flat, overlong retread of ground blazed by Tolkien and Campbell is its atheist agenda.
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