To begin with, the story was rather mediocre, and it suffered from a number of common annoyances in pop-fiction -- including one of my pet peeves, stories where the protagonist doesn't actually do anything, but rather has things happen to him all the time. In this case, that particular peeve was especially blatant, where he is literally controlled by forces outside himself, specifically the magical equipment "given" to him as he is coerced into acting as another's stooge. I did not even get to feel sorry for the main character of the tale, because he's such a contemptible, self-satisfied bastard with no redeeming features.

He neither developed nor revealed any redeeming features of his character in the course of the story, many of the plot elements were clichéd and prone to stereotyping, the story never really stopped being about the most obvious central characters having stuff happen to them in ham-handed manner rather than about them actually doing things, and the ultimate villain was a let-down. There was no reason to sympathize with anyone of note, really, except an escaped slave and (oddly enough) a troll in the tale.

Something about the storytelling itself changed around the halfway point, however, so that events started becoming entertaining to read. Where earlier the improbable course of events had seemed unbelievable and ridiculous, some of the most absurd occurrences in the latter parts of the book made good sense, in context, even as I found myself chuckling at their absurdity. There was a period of about a chapter's worth at the end, in what one might call the climax -- though I'm not sure the book has one -- where a dull recounting of the actions of the real hero of the story (a previously minor supporting character who ultimately proved to have essentially no personality as presented by the author's narrative even after its heroic role was revealed) elicited no particular interest from me as the reader, but it at least served to explain what happened and pave the way to the final conversation of the novel.

The final conversation wrapped up with some mildly interesting banter, and the final line in the book made the whole thing worthwhile . . . barely, if you happen to have a sense of humor somewhat like mine.

I really don't think I could reasonably recommend this book to others, but I did find it enjoyable overall, balancing the good parts against those that were dull, annoying, or just plain poorly written (including the first half of the book, for the most part). ( )

I enjoyed this Vance-ian style diversion. It's not the strongest novel in the pathfinder series, but it's refreshingly unpredictable and the prose is up to snuff.

Enterprising thief Krunzle is strong-armed into a mission to retrieve a powerful merchants daughter, compelling by the sorcerous, mind-reading necklace round his neck. But a job that never added up starts making even less sense, and it becomes clear that Krunzle is just one pawn on a whole chess board of pieces...

Cheerful amorality has a storied history (ha) in sword and sorcery - it can work well but it can also bring with it a glibness that reduces a reader's ability to care in what happens. Matthews avoids this with a helter skelter narrative that barely pauses for breath, and plot sprinkled with mysteries that gradually unfold throughout the book.

Its relatively short length is a critical part of its success, but for all that I had no problem devouring the book. Whilst not quite up to the eloquent tomfoolery of Jack Vance, the novel's debt is clear and the homage is is passable, and pleasurable.

Like the best sword and sorcery, Song of The Serpent frequently hits at a greater world, in which our protagonist is but a tiny part. It's something I really enjoy about the genre and it's rare done so well as it is here. A fun way to pass a day. ( )