Lalette Asterhax could not escape her destiny. She was a hereditary witch in a world where witchcraft was banned by ecclesiastical and temporal powers. And any man who possessed her would then gain possession of her precious Blue Star ... and all the powers it could bestow.
Rodvard Bergelin was a reluctant revolutionary ... a rogue who had a date with destiny. Although he lusted after a rich baron's daughter, Rodvard was ordered to seduce the saucy witch-maiden. Then all the magical powers of that strange blue jewel would be his ... for as long as he remained faithful to Lalette!
Murray Fletcher Pratt (1897–1956) was a science fiction and fantasy writer; he was also well-known as a writer on naval history and on the American Civil War.
Pratt attended Hobart College for one year. During the 1920s he worked for the Buffalo Courier-Express and on a Staten Island newspaper. In the late 1920s he began selling stories to pulp magazines. When a fire gutted his apartment in the 1930s he used the insurance money to study at the Sorbonne for a year. After that he began writing histories.
Wargamers know Pratt as the inventor of a set of rules for civilian naval wargaming before the Second World War. This was known as the "Naval War Game" and was based on a wargame developed by Fred T. Jane involving dozens of tiny wooden ships, built on a scale of one inch to 50 feet. These were spread over the floor of Pratt's apartment and their maneuvers were calculated via a complex mathematical formula. Noted author and artist Jack Coggins was a frequent participant in Pratt's Navy Game, and L. Sprague de Camp met him through his wargaming group.
Pratt established the literary dining club known as the Trap Door Spiders in 1944. The name is a reference to the exclusive habits of the trapdoor spider, which when it enters its burrow pulls the hatch shut behind it. The club was later fictionalized as the Black Widowers in a series of mystery stories by Isaac Asimov. Pratt himself was fictionalized in one story, "To the Barest", as the Widowers’ founder, Ralph Ottur.
Pratt is best known for his fantasy collaborations with de Camp, the most famous of which is the humorous Harold Shea series, was eventually published in full as The Complete Compleat Enchanter. His solo fantasy novels Well of the Unicorn and The Blue Star are also highly regarded.
Pratt wrote in a markedly identifiable prose style, reminiscent of the style of Bernard DeVoto. One of his books is dedicated "To Benny DeVoto, who taught me to write."
The core of the story, as outlined in a clunky framing device, is a thought experiment. What would happen if you limit scientific progress and replace it with a corresponding development of 'psychic/spiritual' nature, that is attached to women but restricted by social mores? What would society look like?
It forms a seed crystal at the center. There are hereditary witches who assume their power after losing their virginity. Some have a Blue Star, an artifact allowing her to share her power in a limited fashion with her faithful lover. The Blue Star's only benefit for the wearer is allowing him to read the true thoughts of those whose eyes meet his. The witches, though potentially powerful and of versatile abilities, are disapproved by society, particularly by the spiritual authorities.
Pratt then goes to show--in charmless, sluggish detail--how this results in a world as crappy and picayune as our own. The presence of witchcraft does not imply the entertaining use of witchcraft, especially if its practitioner is small-minded and retiring of disposition. Opening a window into others' minds is a kingmaking ability in a setting of intrigue, but not if placed into a the hands of a dullard. The whole upshot of Pratt's story is first that abilities are nothing compared to the will to use it and secondly that Pratt has no interest in writing a story of high adventure and romance and sorcery.
The story has a dour, cynical tone and the appearances of intense misogyny: society disapproves of witchcraft, thus monitoring and controlling such individuals and secretly take advantage of their abilities and a creepy interest in young ladies' virginity. For people supposedly with supposedly detestable abilities, an awful lot of attention is paid to their family trees...just to trace the inheritance of their abilities. And Lalette comes into her powers effectively by date rape perpetrated by the supposed protagonist-hero of the piece.
This is the other problem: I wanted to punch Rodvard repeatedly in the face, and then kick him in the kidneys after he collapses. For pressuring Lalette. For not being interested in her other than as a power source for her Blue Star, on behalf of the equally odious Sons of the New Day. For being unfaithful, even when his vested interest is clearly in keeping Lalette as happy as possible, even if for purely cynical reasons. For being such a shmuck about his supposed allegances to the Sons, and for not seeing the web of stupidity around him. Lalette is not much of a person either, but her sins are merely of being a milquetoast and not being given enough to do (or wanting to do).
I can see the themes being carried to their logical conclusions. Rodvard and Lalette are pawns (not even _good_ chess pieces) in the machinations of society, to be stored away when inconvenient and brought out when useful. How the oppression and subjugation of witches becomes even more cruel when the influence of the ecclesiastics is removed and the political forces begin to treat these individuals like tactical weaponry and seek out more of them and maximize their docility.
The results are a story that I can sort of admire and see the merits of, but met with an "Oh God, I still have to finish this damn thing" every time I sat down to read.
I read “The Blue Star” because I recently completed a full set of the Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series From the early 1970s. “The Blue Star” was the first novel in the series, and was originally published in 1952. My rating is really more like a 3.5, but I feel compelled to rate this higher because I think some other reviewers are rating it low for fairly trivial reasons. First off, it starts with a frame narrative that, while unnecessary, is only about 5 or 6 pages total and doesn’t really take anything away from the main plot; I actually enjoyed it. Second, while Pratt is certainly not the most engaging prose stylist out there, he is pretty good—much better than a lot of other fantasy writers, who in my experience tend to go a little (or a lot) over the top with either flowery diction or try for Robert E. Howard-style raw energy. Pratt, on the other hand, has an understated “British” style (despite being American) that might clash with some readers’ idea of how “fantasy” is supposed to read, but is just fine for the story he’s trying to tell. That story is also fairly atypical for the modern form of the genre (remember, this was the early 1950s): it’s low on the swords and sorcery, though the latter is integral to the plot, and it’s heavy on the political machinations of the world it’s set in. That said, the world Pratt manages to build in less than 250 pages is impressive in its complexity and scope, and the story itself is interesting. The characters can be hard to like, but Pratt draws them with a sympathetic honesty that makes them feel like real people rather than stock fantasy figurines. This, I think, is why some may not like this novel—it’s got too much “realism” for those expecting a straight up fantasy work. But for me those are the parts that felt the most authentic, and on the whole I think “The Blue Star” works. Pick it up (it’s not expensive or hard to find) if you want a different spin on the traditional fantasy tale.
Time has not been kind, I fear, to Fletcher Pratt’s The Blue Star. After thoroughly enjoying The Compleat Enchanter, I was disappointed by how little I enjoyed The Blue Star. The plot slows down and speeds up at unpredictable intervals. Most jarring is the book’s depiction of romance, which by more modern standards sounds a whole lot like date rape.
It also doesn’t help that there’s a lot of political/religious intrigues and factions to keep track of, that never quite seem to get explained properly. It’s a shame though – the book has some scathing religious criticism stuck into it – surprising for a fantasy novel written in the 50s.
Characters were quite compelling but I found the plot and setting a bit lacking. Picked this up hoping for a more plot driven story, so take my review with a grain of salt. I should probably return to this when I'm not in an action adventure mood
This is a very different story in a very similar world with a very different form of magic. There are witches; they are women, and they inherit it from their mothers. This is fairly normal. The first man they have sex with gains, if the witch gives them their hereditary blue star, the ability to read the mind of anyone by looking into their eyes.
There are revolutionaries who want Rodvard Bergelin to seduce Lalette Asterhax and so gain the blue star from her, so as to help the revolution.
All this happens within the first several pages; but of course neither the revolution nor perhaps even the mind-reading are what they seem. It becomes clear very quickly that the revolution is following the same line as the French revolution did in our world.
It’s a nice story, different from most fantasy stories, but with problems. The way the world treats blue stars mean doesn’t really make sense. Everyone seems to know about the blue stars; at least, everyone who knows Rodvard has one tries to avoid catching his eye. But except for the revolutionaries and one count, no one in government, crime, or religion seems to really care one way or the other about the existence of transferrable mind-reading.
Also, there’s a framing sequence about a group of three men discussing parallel worlds and then dreaming this story while they sleep. This was a fairly common technique of the time; E.R. Eddison used it in a similarly confusing manner in The Worm Ouroboros. Here it mostly detracts from the story. It is hard to imagine that the technique was welcomed by readers back then, but it was common enough that someone must have preferred it.
On the other hand, the ending line almost makes the framing sequence worth it, though even it echoes Carroll and Poe, and has itself been echoed in many stories since.
An odd early fantasy appearing on Gygax's "Appendix N"
So, "The Blue Star" is one of those odd old fantasy novels that predates the birth of "modern" fantasy after Tolkien, it has some of the odd conventions that tended to appear in such early fantasy (such as the "framing" scenes at the very beginning and ending of the novel in which people from our world speculate about the existence of such a fantasy world, and then muse about it afterward, unconnected to the actual story. I found it a little less enjoyable than most of the Appendix N works I've managed to track down - perhaps because the protagonists are not very likeable. There is also some very disturbing stuff in there (on of the protagonists essentially rapes the other, and it is brushed off as rather unimportant - perhaps a reflection of the more patriarchal times in which the novel was written, but very unsettling to the more enlightened modern reader. There are some really interesting aspects to the magic of this fantasy world, such as witchery being inherited by women only through the female bloodline, but the power to unlock the magic of a Blue Star (a gemstone that gives its wielder the power to read minds, among other things, apparently) can only be used to the benefit of a witch's male lover or husband, for only men can actually wield the Blue Star, it seems. This "gendered" magic is original and creative in the time period during which this was written, and reaches its full flowering and development (with rather different results) with fantasy like Robert Jordan's "Wheel of Time" series. Anyway, I enjoyed it, but it just wasn't *great* . . .
The Blue Star is a jarring, unsettling novel dominated with political and religious Game of Thrones type intrigues and with a layered and twisted plot that does not read like modern fantasy. The world is an impressive, complex build. The characters are flawed, many unlikeable, but some, like Lalette, are sympathetic and endearing. The relations between characters contain all the sexism and misogyny of the renaissance era, similar to the social reality of the time of Moll Flander. But have hope, the main characters gradually grow beyond their shallow, selfish roots.
The author respects the reader to be of their own mind and does not tell the reader how to react to one scene or another. Does the author need to tell you to cheer when, after the fourth rape, Lalette sends her assailant to the bottom of the ocean? Or to laugh at the ironic justice of the unfaithful thrall being poisoned and robbed of his plunder by another witch?
The book contains all evils: rape, poisonings, murders, theft, infidelity and is not suitable for everyone but is most suitable for those who enjoy books about revolution and political intrigue.
The book starts off very well and is very engaging, but it sadly gets lost in a very convoluted and unfleshed out story with characters that are neither relatable nor believable.
The first "true" entry into L. Sprague de Camp and Lin Carter's seminal Adult Fantasy series of the 1970s has fallen into neglect. It's easy to see why: the story boasts no elves and goblins, no hero-coming-of-age quest. YA this ain't. Other reviews on this site will point out the implications that one of the protagonists rapes the other in the opening chapters. While I don't exactly dispute this reading, I would think Pratt meant this more to be seduction, but regardless, sexual dynamics and abuse play a strong role in this story, and it is not a savory world. We mainly follow the maturation of the protagonists through a world replete with intrigue, factions, ideologies, religions, all fighting to exert dominance over the main characters, both physically and mentally. I don't think Pratt meant for us to find complete sympathy with the male protagonist, one Rodvard: I think we are meant to be frustrated with him, and perhaps, as some readers suggest, downright disgusted. Lalette, on the other hand, the female protagonist, and a Witch, is nothing but sympathetic. In fact, her handing over into a particular sect that professes a strange sort of "free love" anticipates both the male-dominated free love of the next decade (this was written in the early '50s) and the later feminist criticism of it. She is forced into a strange sort of religious prostitution that entirely demeans women as servants to an elite male class. All of this is no doubt a critique of Pratt's, a noted historian. Feudalism, the aristocracy, even a supposed liberatory revolution, all of these serve to control the central characters, with the titular Blue Star, a device that allows an extremely limited form of "mind-reading" (this is all set within sort of an alternate late Renaissance Europe) being the bargaining chip by which the male character gets tossed around. But all this is dressing: the real ethos of this story is tied up within the relationship of Rodvard and Lalette and their process of individuation. Whether they succeed or not would spoil the story, but again, it is not an easy ride. These are very human characters, and they live in an insolvable world, at least compared to most fantasy stories. There is no Aslan, no King Arthur, no Gandalf to help set things right. They only have themselves, and not in some Gothic Romantic way, but in a very real way, that I think that is not what most people want when they read a fantasy story. It's too bad it is more or less forgotten.
(read as part of my Appendix N project) As some other reviewers have mentioned, this one was a little hard to get through; every character is flawed in some way that basically precludes your rooting for (or even caring much about) them, and though the world is worked out in high detail it can feel a little academic at times. Though I'm all for thoughtful fantasy that goes in a different direction (and there were a lot of directions pre-Tolkien) I found this drier and less enjoyable than the other entries on the Appendix N list. But I have always enjoyed Pratt's work with de Camp so I will probably wind up reading his only other solo epic fantasy ("The Well of the Unicorn") at some point.
This was an absolute slog of a book. Full disclosure, I only read half of the book before I had to put it down. The story hasn't aged well at all, with some ideals coming across as either egregious or downright insulting. Being a somewhat hard-to-find novel, I was excited to find it as part of my Appendix N read-through. The plot meanders along with little urgency, even as the characters are trying to make an escape from capture. I'm sure the only reason this novel is remembered is due to it's inclusion in Gygax's Appendix N. Otherwise, this would have become yet another dust-collector in used bookstores across the country.
I find Pratt's writing style too often veers into the "baroque" and the flourishes take away more from the stories than they add. So too with this one.
The basic plot of the story is pretty interesting, but the characters aren't especially likable or compelling, and there will definitely be parts of this story that are "problematic" to modern readers.
I believe I only knew Pratt from his co-writing the Compleat Enchanter stories with L. Sprague de Camp. This book takes place in a world where witchcraft is a valid science, but has been outlawed by the empire. Witches possess gems known as blue stars, which give their lovers the power to read minds. It's a promising premise, but the book itself didn't really grab me.
I'm not actually sure how many times I've read this. I'll completely forget anything about it - find it on my shelf and decide to read it again. Partially influenced by the resemblance of the title to a actual favorite book (The Blue Hawk) & to the blue star related shenanigans of the Thieves' World Lythande stories. The rather nice cover didn't hurt either.
Ugh, this was a chore to get through. I didn’t like it at all. I’m glad that is over. I’m sure if you enjoy Game of Thrones you will enjoy this story of revolution and politics in a faraway land. More power to ya!
While the idea/world here is sort of interesting, the writing is mostly nonsensical and the world building incredibly confusing. Combine that with some of the worst written romance I've ever read and this did not make for a particularly enjoyable read.
I liked The Blue Star more on a second readthrough. Having read more of the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series and Appendix N, I have more context for it. There's still some dated grossness, and an underlying unpleasant cynicism to the storytelling that hold it back, though.
I’ve never read such a philosophy driven fantasy, but this was truly a fantastical story that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I read it. This is a story about magic, true love and devotion, and learning how to detach from power driven societies and religions, but mostly how to detach from the power ego from within ourselves and find what it truly means to be free within ourselves and in relationships. I’m in awe of how the author was able to reveal all this through a fantasy story. I will be picking up his non-fictional history books.
Nel mio recupero pluriennale dei classici del fantasy angloamericano, The Blue Star mi è stato presentato come una pietra miliare che ha introdotto nel genere le ambientazioni di Antico Regime, gli intrecci di cappa e pugnale e la magia trattata come questione di genere, tutti soggetti che sarebbero stati ripresi dalle grandi autrici di fantasy di costume quali Andre Norton, Ursula K. Le Guin o Ellen Kushner. Ebbene, trovo sinceramente che l'opera di Pratt sia una di quelle pietre miliari invecchiate malamente e superate di parecchio dagli emuli. In potenza, questo romanzo avrebbe potuto essere un pezzo sempreverde, visto che il worldbuilding è estremamente solido: abbiamo una finta Austria-Francia in crisi economica profonda, partiti contrapposti di nobili con il clero nel mezzo, una cerchia massonica che progetta il colpo di Stato, un principe esule che dall'estero trama l'usurpazione, un'eresia catara fomentata dal principe stesso, un'ex-colonia caraibica ribelle divenuta una teocrazia catara, dinastie di streghe capaci di gettare malocchi, di ipnotizzare e di "prestare" ai loro partner sessuali la lettura del pensiero grazie alle "Stelle Blu" eponime... Eppure Pratt riesce a buttare tutto questo contesto nella latrina, ambientandoci la trama di uno snuff movie per predatori sessuali: il nostro "eroe" Rodvard il massone violenta la strega Lalette per ottenere l'agognata lettura del pensiero, Lalette resta con lui per sindrome di Stoccolma, Rodvard manda a monte la sua copertura a corte, i due rimangono separati e girano per il Paese dandosi alla macchia, Lalette sfugge ad altri due tentativi di stupro e alla schiavitù sessuale, Rodvard la tradisce con altre donne ma riesce per il rotto della cuffia a non perdere i poteri magici imprestati e a sfuggire a uno stupro gay (per non farci mancar nulla)... e solo nell'ultimo terzo del libro Pratt si degna di imbastire e risolvere una trama interessante che intreccia i problemi relazionali di Lalette e Rodvard alla loro attività politica, con gustosissime scene di seduta parlamentare e di processo (sì, io adoro le sedute parlamentari e i processi). E per aggiungere la beffa al danno, nell'epilogo la voce narrante ridacchia della natura pruriginosa di tutta la vicenda! Personalmente non mi considero un puritano e anzi mi piacciono le scene spinte raccontate con gusto (infatti ho apprezzato moltissimo Elysium), ma qui è assolutamente evidente che Pratt voleva fare soldi facili scrivendo un testo scabroso fine a sé stesso, il che lo rende (purtroppo) l'antenato anche degli scrittori contemporanei di fantasy grimdark. Chi adora quest'ultimo genere si troverà benissimo con The Blue Star, a tutti gli altri lo raccomando solo se volete scrivere fanfiction ambientate nel mondo creato da Pratt; in particolare, io pagherei volentieri per un romanzo spinoff sul personaggio migliore di The Blue Star, il figliolo della sarta che ha dato nomi e personalità a tutti i manichini per farne dei compagni di giochi – era tenerissimo.
The Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series edition of The Blue Star was published in 1969 with cover art by Gervasio Gallardo. Pratt wrote the novel in 1952, and it was the first work of adult fantasy revived by series editor, Lin Carter.
The story is set in a location somewhere like Europe, but with an alternate history, pre-industrial, before the invention of steam power. It reminded me of Le Guin’s fictional Central European state, Orsinia.
On the other hand, in Pratt’s world witches exist with genuine supernatural powers. Pratt’s original twist is that the husband of a witch gains a special ability when wearing his witch’s “blue star” gem, which gives the book its title. He can read the thoughts of people by looking in their eyes.
Essentially, the book is a love story between Rodvard and his witch, Lalette. Rodvard is involved with a revolutionary group; Lalette is fleeing prosecution for using witchcraft.
After presumably centuries of religious persecution, there are now few witches and blue stars. Rodvard’s ability to read minds is a valuable asset for the revolution.
Both Rodvard and Lalette are reasonably well developed characters, but flawed and unheroic. We can sympathize more with Lalette than Rodvard, as the two go through their trials. Indeed, Rodvard is an inconstant lover who has forced himself on Lalette at the outset. The book has a good collection of characters, all flawed in their various ways.
Pratt’s invention is unusual in its parallel alternate history—with witchcraft. I could imagine further stories in the same setting. The Blue Star was a worthy, though surprising, choice as the first volume of the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series.
I've only ever read this author in collaboration with L. Sprauge deCamp. But he's got an excellent, detailed, inventive style and can world-build as well as anyone. I found myself wondering how he'd put so much into such a slim novel, and how he expected to complete it properly. In the end, he succeeded by making the ending turn on how all the various larger parts pushed and pulled a small but central part of the story. Satisfying, although I wish he'd written more.
This completely unique Fantasy novel is set in an alternate 18th century Europe in which magical power is possessed only by women and power is acquired only with the loss of virginity. Lots of complex political conspiracies go on and everyone seems to be trying to use everyone else for the advancement of their own power and political advantage.
One of the first fantasy novels that went beyond swords and dragons and actually dealt with people. One of my first reads as a teen in fantasy novels, and still a favourite.