Why Metal Mage Works

It’s got death. And guns. It’s Deathgun. And who’s that chick? Probably an elegant gun lady (Quote paraphrased from Larry Correia.)

I shouldn’t have liked the novel Metal Mage by Eric Vall.

It has so many negatives: Apparently poor pacing. A hazy and incoherent conflict (more on both of these later.) A Gary Stu protagonist. Over-description in some places.

And yet, I thoroughly enjoyed it. So much so that when I was listening to a chapter on the way to work (I have the audiobook), I arrived before I could finish, disappointing me intensely. Even before then, I found myself looking for excuses to listen to it.

Why does Metal Mage work in spite of its apparent flaws?

Because it is written to please readers, not critics or writers.

Metal Mage has significant positives that would endear it to readers:

An appeal to the primal. Right from the beginning, Metal Mage appeals to most men’s desires for attractive women. Without any touch of irony or parody, the male protagonist builds a relationship with a highly attractive female fire mage. There is zero drama in the relationship, and the fire mage does not repeatedly cut down the male lead like most modern female protagonists do. And the best part? She does all this while not coming off as a needy, co-dependent doormat. Note that appealing to men’s primal desires goes well beyond looks: this book appeals to a man’s desire to be loved and appreciated by women for his good deeds.

An optimistic atmosphere. There isn’t a trace of cynicism in the story. Although the leader of the mage order in the story is a grumpy old man who intensely dislikes the protagonist, most everyone the protagonist meets wants to fight off the threat of the monsters that are menacing the people. The king isn’t secretly a jerk, the mage order isn’t made up of hateful jerks, and the peasants are generally honest and grateful. Everyone pulls together for the greater good.

Good is rewarded. The protagonists mostly deal with rampaging monsters and there is a strong sense that everyone does the right thing. There isn’t a hint of backstabbing or double-dealing in the novel; doing the right thing is treated as the great thing it is.

A competent male hero, a beautiful lover who is equally competent, and good deeds being rewarded; it flies right in the face of a lot of contemporary writing advice — which admonishes appeals to men, beauty, or goodness as outdated relics. Metal Mage drew me in because its characters and atmosphere were just so appealing.

However, we are told that to tell a good story, we must be “realistic.”

Sincerity cannot exist because supposedly, no one acts like that.

[EXO, a novel by Fonda Lee] is not that story. There are no “good guys” and “bad guys” to be found here—only people, all of them doing what they believe is the right thing, based on their worldview and the circumstances of their lives and experiences. And that means they hold certain opinions, they say and do things that some readers will not agree with, they make decisions that are well intentioned but still questionable.

Your male leads mustn’t take revenge for a lost lady love because then you would be guilty of sexism.

The next time [the Disposable Woman trope] occurs to you though, ask yourself if that’s the only way. Does your FBI agent’s wife have to be murdered before he starts playing hardball with the mafia? Instead, why not have her leave him because he’s too dedicated to the case? Why not have him driven half-crazy because he keeps seeing men he knows are guilty go free? Why not give him a particular mad-on against the crime that a particular organization is committing and getting away with?

From the same blog post, this time relating to abductions instead of murders:

Stories carry messages. If your story is about a modern day knight with a machine gun off to slay the dragon because it kidnapped a princess, then that sends a message. It tells male readers that violence is an acceptable solution to problems, it tells female readers that they shouldn’t struggle when taken captive, and it tells dragons they’re horribly evil fucks who deserve to be shot.

The late, great Poul Anderson — an author I otherwise enjoy — praises realism as the key to good storytelling in his 1978 essay On Thud and Blunder:

Not so! The consequence of making that assumption [using a fantasy world to sidestep historical research] is, inevitably, a sleazy product. It may be bought by an editor hard up for material, but it will carry none of the conviction, the illusion of reality, which helps make the work of the people mentioned above, and other good writers, memorable. At best, it will drop into oblivion; at worst, it will stand as an awful example. If our field becomes swamped with this kind of garbage, readers are going to go elsewhere for entertainment and there will be no more [heroic fantasy.]

Note what all of these suggestions have in common — primal sources of motivation are Bad Writing, and dull, gray despair are Good Writing. Larger-than-life situations are Bad Writing, petty and grimy situations are Good Writing. Good vs. Evil is Bad Writing, shades of gray is Good Writing. And so on.

Write for readers, get a fun time. Write for writers, get overwrought slop.

That being said, let’s look into where the book falls down:

Poor pacing and an incoherent conflict. Metal Mage feels episodic in nature, with the protagonist and his lady friend exploring the kingdom and honing their powers while fighting off the occasional monster. Overall, it follows the kishoutenketsu mode of plotting over the traditional three-act structure. I would go so far as to say that it has the pacing of a Miyazaki film, though DEFINITELY not the content or message of one.

Gary Stu. The male lead is a Gary Stu who quickly mastered his new-found earth and metal manipulation powers within days of reaching the other world. On top of that, he gains the attention of a beautiful and highly competent half-elf maiden who is also a fire mage. The opposition he faces comes from the leader of the mage order, who disrespects him frequently for no apparent reason, and a number of characters throughout the main city who are just grouchy people in general; as for the girl, she engages in quippy back-and-forth, but never truly cuts him down or abuses him in the manner of an anime tsundere. The girl’s competence sands the edges off of our protagonist’s Stu-ness, as characters also frequently praise the girl for her skills and accomplishments, which are considerable.

The romance is partially damaged. Later in the book, the protagonist encounters a second girl, whom he also falls for. The fire mage is fine with it as long as Gary Stu is honest about his feelings (by this point, Stu and the fire mage were already getting physical.) By turning the rather sweet monogamous romance into the beginnings of a harem, it ruins the magic of the initial relationship a bit.

As I listened to the book, I had some thoughts: though this book is flawed in many ways, I am enamored of it nonetheless because it portrays a healthy male-female romance with almost no drama, good deeds being rewarded, and a functional society worth defending (indeed, the hero wants nothing more than to protect his new home and do right by everybody.)

It’s ironic, really; 1990s me would have scoffed at this story as corny and not edgy enough. A society worth saving? The right ting being rewarded? Responsible authority figures? How childish. Let’s overturn this applecart!

But that was the last applecart; there were no more to overturn, and I was proud of myself. We dismantled that fake world of sugar-coated lies and brought about something real and raw and radical.

EXTREEEEEEME!

Then, little by little, I realized that I wanted an apple again. But everyone was selling corn syrup and spoiled cheese in place of the apples. The sushi and katsudon were good, but it wasn’t the same.

But now I found an apple here, and I realized that I missed the taste. Sure, it was a little overripe, but something was better than nothing.

Have a taste here, in both text and audiobook formats.

It’s got death. And guns. Its Deathgun. And who’s that chick? Probably an elegant gun lady.