Warhammer 40,000: Malleus
Hello, all. Happy … what’s on the calendar this week? Mountain Day? A very Belated and very Happy Mountain Day to you all.
As promised, the time has come to review the second Eisenhorn novels, Malleus. I do plan to carry on and cap off the trilogy with Heretius at some point in the near future. Unfortunately, I have yet to find a hard copy in my area, so I may have to transition to e-book for that one.
Without further ado, let us step away from the literary hellscape of The Empyrean and return to our vacation in the grim darkness of the 41st Millennium.
STATS
Title: Malleus
Series: The Eisenhorn Trilogy (Book 2)
Author(s): Dan Abnett
Genre: Science Fiction (Space Opera)
First Printing: 2001
Publisher: Games Workshop Publishing
SPOILER WARNING
Mild spoilers will be included throughout this review, through I will keep the first paragraph of each section as spoiler-free as possible. Heavy spoilers will be confined to clearly labelled sections.
PREMISE
Once again, we have a hard copy to work with! The back of the 2022 edition of the book reads thusly:
Grego Eisenhorn is one of the Imperial Inquisition’s most celebrated agents. But when a face from his past returns to haunt him and he is implicated in a great tragedy that devastates the world of Thracian Primaris, Eisenhorn’s universe crumles around him. The dæmon Cherubael is back, and seeks to bring the inquisitor to ruin - either by his death, or by turning him to the service of the Dark Gods.
There is also a paragraph about a short story, ‘Missing in Action’, that is included in the book. I will do a brief analysis of that story at the end of this review, so I’ll hold off on what the premise says about that story until then.
Reaction
This premise is much more accurate than the previous one. Excessive emphasis is not being put on the middle or the end. At most, one might argue that the tragedy on Thracian Primaris takes a while to actually happen, but that’s just a matter of time being taken to set up Eisenhorn’s position in the world prior to the inciting incident.
RATING: 6.5 / 10
This was another tricky one for me to rate.
While I think that Malleus is objectively better-written than Xenos, I can’t say that it’s a lot better. I don’t think that Abnett improved upon the plot, characters, or worldbuilding. Instead, the higher quality comes down to how this story was executed as a sequel and how the narrative voice is handled. Furthermore, one of the elements that could have elevated the book - that being its attempt to tackle a theme - was botched in a manner that is actually detrimental to the story.
So, while I’m happy to say this is a book that’s worth reading, at least if its concepts and setting interest you, I don’t feel quite comfortable elevating it to the level of, say, The Fall of Reach. It’s honest about what it is, and it’s fine when it stays within those limits, but it fumbles when it tries to reach beyond those limits.
Sequel
Malleus is a sequel to Xenos in the sense that it follows the same characters in a story that, chronologically speaking, happens after Xenos. Otherwise than a couple of secondary antagonists (one of whom was very roughly shoehorned in), it has nothing to do with the previous story.
And yet … I think this works fine.
Xenos introduced us to Eisenhorn in his 40s, early in his career as an inquisitor, with a tiny retinue at his command. That book marks the beginning of the war known as the Ophidian Crusade (which is one of those background events we are told about and not shown). Malleus drops us in 98 years later, at the end of the Crusade, when Eisenhorn is a well-established inquisitor with a vast retinue. The surviving members of his original retinue are all highly experienced agents at this point. There is a sense of history here. It feels as though Eisenhorn has dozens of stories that would be worthy of their own books, and we are being shown this one in particular because of its connection (however tenuous) to the previous adventure. Yes, it’s only a sequel in technicality, but it doesn’t pretend that its anything more than that.
Voice
The way that this book is written still clashes with my own sensibilities, yet it didn’t bother me as much this time. Much of this is undoubtedly that I’ve just gotten used to it. However, I also get the sense that Abnett himself has gotten more comfortable with writing in Eisenhorn’s voice.
A lot of this pans out in characterization. As we’ll get into later, the characters of this book (save Eisenhorn himself) are very bit as one-note as they were last time. Nearly everything we know about them comes down to Eisenhorn directly informing us about their traits. At the same time, there’s something about the way Eisenhorn “talks” about these people that conveys the depth of his bond to them. Eisenhorn is 140 years old at this point (still the prime of his life, thanks to all the means to combat aging in this setting ), and he has spent the majority of his life working with the same group of people. Abnett manages to sell this sense of experience and history with nothing but how Eisenhorn describes the people around him. That wasn’t something I really felt while reading the last book. Eisenhorn certainly described the people around him, but you couldn’t really feel a difference between the people he’d been with a while and those who were new additions to his retinue.
Theme (Heavy Spoilers)
An underlying theme within the first two Eisenhorn books is the conflict between Puritans and Radicals within the Inquisition.
For those not familiar with WH40K lore, the Inquisition is not an ideological monolith. There are multiple philosophical sects within its ranks. Broadly speaking, these sects - or, more specifically, their methods - can be arranged upon a philosophical spectrum from the Puritans to the Radicals.
Puritans believe in not only enforcing absolute loyalty to the will of the God-Emperor but also in doing so with only the methods the God-Emperor would approve. No aliens (either using their technology or allying with them), no dabbling in Chaos - everything must be by Man, for Man.
Radicals believe in fighting fire with fire. They will readily ally themselves with aliens or make use of Chaos.
Early in Xenos, Eisenhorn introduced himself as a member of the Amalathians, a Puritan sect driven by their faith in the God-Emperor’s divine plan. When he encountered other inquisitors, he would often comment on whether they were more Puritanical or Radical than him (and react to their perception of him on that spectrum). This was fine as a form of characterization, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say that the story was putting any weight on it.
At first, Malleus opts for a similar approach. One of the plot hooks in the first act is that rumors are flying around that Eisenhorn is now a heretic, with the implication being that he has swung into Radicalism and gone off the deep end. The focus of the story, though, is on Eisenhorn rooting out the source of the suspicion, not on the ideological split. It’s not engaging with the idea as a theme.
Then, 80% of the way through the book, Eisenhorn has a conversation with Pontius Glaw, an antagonist carried over from Xenos. During their discussion, Glaw mocks Eisenhorn for slipping from the moral high ground of a Puritan. Soon he will become just like Glaw. Eisenhorn rebuffs this idea, yet for the remainder of the book, this doubt gnaws at him. It then leads to a twist in the final chapter, when he steals a book of Chaos lore and summons a dæmon with it, just so that he can take revenge on that dæmon by imprisoning it in his basement.
I think the idea was the Abnett wanted this story to mark the beginning of Eisenhorn’s fall towards heresy, but the result just feels rushed and half-baked. It really didn’t need to be. The setup was literally handed to Abnett with the setting. More attention should have been paid to it from a much earlier point in the narrative.
CONTENT WARNING
As was the case in Xenos, this story is incredibly grimdark. There are graphic descriptions of death, mutilation, and gore. The tragedy on Thracian Primaris is nothing short of a terrorist attack that makes 9/11 look tame. Torture is referenced, but I can’t recall any point where is actually appears on the page. Swearing and cursing continues to be just enough to be gritty while still being quite tame.
The sexual content is slightly turned up in this book - emphasis on slightly. It’s mostly limited to references and innuendos. No acts are shown on the page. The one element that I find noteworthy is the character of Medea Bentacore, the daughter of Midas Bentacore from the previous book (Midas having died between books). There are at least three points within this book where Medea is described as being in a state of undress, and every time, it feels like we are meant to interpret this young woman as sexually desirable. Nothing is described in more detail than, “Young woman is wearing less clothes that would normally be expected,” and two of the three incidents are also justified by circumstance. It’s just that it happens enough times that the pattern is worth mentioning.
PLOT
Malleus starts as a slower burn than Xenos. While the story opens on Eisenhorn resolving a case, this is the resolution of another story that we aren’t shown. The first quarter of the book is just buildup to the “great tragedy that devastates the world of Thracian Primaris” from the Premise, with Eisenhorn being summoned to Thracian Primaris as part of an inquisitorial coalition to celebrate the end of a crusade (the same crusade that started back in Xenos, for which the Gudrunites had been recruited) and learning that he is under suspicion of heresy.
When the tragedy does happen, it kicks off a series of smaller adventures, with Eisenhorn bouncing from planet to planet to track down whomever is responsible for the tragedy. About halfway through the story, just as he identifies the mastermind behind the tragedy, he himself is accused of being the mastermind. The back half of the book sees Eisenhorn sneaking around the galaxy, making preparations to expose and defeat the true mastermind. The story then ends with another big action set piece, similar to Xenos.
I found the plot of Malleus to be far more engaging with Xenos. The previous book felt somewhat meandering. It wasn’t exactly clear what Eisenhorn’s objective was; he just sort of wandered after the Glaw family until the Neroteuch popped into the story. Malleus is much more focused. Not only does he always have a clear objective that drives him from one location to the next, but he also has a clear objective on each planet her visits.
This book is also even better than its predecessor when it comes to using Telling in the place of Showing. The events of the book stretch over a period of about four years, most of which is spent absorbed in time skips wherein Eisenhorn summarizes events. Some of those evets are stories in and of themselves: he makes a passing mention of stopping to destroy a cult on one of the worlds he visits, something we aren’t shown because it’s not at all relevant to the actual plot of Malleus. We are also Told about the activities of members of his retinue while they are separated from him for months or years at a time. The reason this works is the same as in Xenos: Eisenhorn himself in the narrator. He’s Showing us the things that he feels are most relevant; if he’s Telling us something, it’s because he felt we should know about it but doesn’t think it’s worth dwelling upon. It feels far more deliberate and much less lazy then, say, Violet Telling us about friction between rider and flier cadets while Showing us that the fliers are very accommodating people who only cause trouble if they are the Other World she wants to demonize.
That being said, Malleus also outdoes Xenos in terms of sudden and unearned twists, and I feel that problem is severe enough to keep the overall quality of the plot at the same level.
First, there is the identity of the mastermind Eisenhorn is hunting: Quixos. I don’t mark this as a Heavy Spoiler because, frankly, there is nothing to spoil. Quixos did not exist within this narrative until Eisenhorn and his retinue discovered that he was responsible. Chapters were sunk into detective work, and the story even hinted at a betrayal by a character who was properly established, but at the end of the day, the Scooby-Doo mask was ripped off to reveal some random guy we haven’t heard about before. (I did a little digging, and this book also appears to be Quixos’s first introduction into the WH40K franchise, so this isn’t even justified by him being an established character that the hardcore fans would recognize.) This isn’t unrealistic, but it feels very arbitrary and unsatisfying from a narrative perspective. There really should have been some buildup for this guy before the reveal.
Second, there is the thematic twist that we touched upon back in Ratings (which I won’t reiterate here, since that is more of a spoiler). It comes out of nowhere. Yes, it makes a modicum of sense, and yes, you can see what Abnett was going for, but that entire thematic conflict was compressed into the last 80% of the book. There isn’t a sense that Eisenhorn has made a significant choice or changed as a character; if anything, it’s the literary equivalent of Jake Skywalker slinging the lightsaber over his shoulder.
CHARACTER
As in Xenos, character is the weakest aspect of Malleus. Eisenhorn is the only one who gets substantial characterization. Everyone else is very shallow and usually has all of their traits packaged into what Eisenhorn tells us about them, rather than having distinct voices and identities.
Everyone from the old retinue returns at some point in the story (except Midas Bentacore, who is replaced by Medea). We also get a large and colorful cast of additional people whom Eisenhorn has recruited in the century between books. As mentioned in Voice, one thing that Abnett does manage to do successfully is give a sense of history to Eisenhorn’s relationship with his retinue. Even if I hadn’t read Xenos, I’d be able to tell whom Eisenhorn had been with longest based on how he describes them. I’m not saying this because he literally tells the audience how long he’s worked with them (though he does also do that). Eisenhorn shares details about them that reflect just how well he knows them.
For example, during Fischig’s reintroduction, we’re told that the only reason Fischig isn’t already an inquisitor himself is that he lacks the academic aptitude. Fischig knows this about himself, so he’s never even tried to rise above being one of Eisenhorn’s agents, because he doesn’t like to fail. It’s a moment of informed characterization. However, it’s one that conveys just how much Eisenhorn admires Fischig, even though most tellings of a story like that would make Fischig’s stubborn pride out to be a flaw.
By contrast, there’s a character Husmaan. I can’t recall if Eisenhorn ever says how long Husmaan has been in his retinue, but you can tell from how little Eisenhorn describes Husmaan that it has’t been very long. All we really learn about Husmaan is his skill set and what he used to do before Eisenhorn recruited him.
All in all, the characters in this book were still not done well. I just think that the sense of history that Abnett gets across is a step in the right direction.
WORLDBUILDING
Unlike Xenos, Malleus does not start off with a confusing phase where it’s unclear was is or isn’t relevant for the audience to know. There’s certainly a lot of dense information, but it’s also clear right off the bat what we do or don’t need to care about. That said, I think this has more to do with Malleus being a sequel than because Abnett has corrected this problem. If you’re readying this book, you probably read the last one, so you probably already have all the groundwork and know what is and isn’t important right off the bat. Abnett only needs to update us on the new elements that will be important.
One thing Malleus does do better in terms of worldbuilding is conveying the scale of the galaxy. Xenos had a few timeskips, but Maellus has several, along with references to holidays and other events that will allow audiences to understand just how many months or years have passed as the story progresses. Reading this book, it really hits home how narratively necessary it is for WH40K to have multiple characters who are centuries old. It takes so ridiculously long to complete a single adventure that absurd lifespans are the only way to justify these characters going on many different adventures.
I also think that Abnett does a great job breathing life into the variety of worlds within the WH40K galaxy. The last book gave us an ice planet, a temperate planet, and wasteland planet, and a couple of alien hellscape planets; now we get a city planet, a fungus planet, a mining colony world, a shrine world, and Cadia itself. Each of these worlds gets more description and detail than any of the worlds in Xenos.
PROSE
I’ve given Rebecca Yarros a hard time for writing some incredibly stupid lines. I therefore feel it is only fair to poke fun at a line in Malleus that is every bit as ridiculous as Yarros’s worst prose.
To set this scene: Eisenhorn is summoned by Rorken, Master of the Ordos Xenos (for a simple analogy, if Eisenhorn were a priest, then this guy would be the bishop he reports to), to discuss rumors that Eisenhorn has engaged in heretical behaviors. We get this description of how Rorken’s office is dazzlingly bright, filled with candles and mirrored surfaces, allowing Eisenhorn to see his reflection all over the place. This is how Eisenhorn describes seeing his own reflection.
I blinked, and raised my hand to shield my eyes. I saw a hundred other men in cloaks do the same. My reflections. Multiplied Gregor Eisenhorns, framed by twinklling candles. I saw I looked edgy.
Eisenhorn - a man whose narrative voice makes it very clear that he has accepted the grim darkness of his reality as the norm - thinks he looks ‘edgy'.
No one living in the grim darkness of the 41st Millennium should even grasp the concept of being ‘edgy.’
Now, in fairness to Abnett, language drifts over time. I do not know the full history of the word ‘edgy’ as a slang term. It’s possible that the only definition of ‘edgy’ back in 2001 was ‘being on edge.’ If that is what Eisenhorn meant, that would actually make sense. He has good reason to be nervous in this situation.
All the same, reading this line now made me roll my eyes. No one should unironically use that work in a modern-day WH40K book unless they are a high school edgelord writing fan fiction (though I will make an exemption so long as it is being applied to or used by the character of Sarkon Aggad).
SHORT STORY - ‘MISSING IN ACTION’
This edition includes the short story ‘Missing in Action’. Inquisitor Eisenhorn investigates a series of brutal murders of former Imperial Guardsmen - but what dark force is behind the crimes?
Within the 2022 edition of Malleus, ‘Missing in Action’ is printed before the start of the book proper. Nothing that happens within this short story has any bearing on the events of Malleus. Nevertheless, I feel that it was a worthwhile inclusion.
Rating: 8/10
This story is very short. The investigation is a procedural rather than a mystery. As far as I can tell, it’s a blip in Eisenhorn’s life. The only consequence is that he loses a hand, which he gets replaced long before the events of Malleus begin. I can’t recall a single mention of this adventure within Malleus itself.
Nevertheless, ‘Missing in Action’ is a solid story that effectively captures the grim darkness of the 41st Millennium. The way it does this isn’t through WH40K usual edginess. Violence and a few gory details are present, but they aren’t emphasized. Rather, this story explores the human cost of life within this setting. It’s a much softer and more tragic take than what one usually associates with the franchise.
Premise & Plot (Heavy Spoilers)
This story occurs shortly after the events of Xenos. As part of his recovery from the events of that book, Eisenhorn is assigned a low-risk investigation on an unremarkable world. Just as he is about to depart, the local government makes an appeal to him. An imperial priest was discovered in a mutilated state, dying shortly after, and his injuries were consistent with other recent murders. It seems a Chaos cult has formed on the world. Eisenhorn can’t stop himself from intervening.
What follows is a short investigation that includes a shootout. Eventually, Eisenhorn discovers the truth: this isn’t the work of a Chaos cult at all. Rather, the perpetrators of the murders are a unit of combat veterans who, decades earlier, had put down a Chaos uprising on another world. PTSD had made the veterans so paranoid that they’d taken it upon themselves to punish anyone they suspected of being a Chaos cultist, regardless of how flimsy that suspicion might be.
Eisenhorn tries to show these veterans compassion, dropping in on one of their meetings. He is nearly able to talk them down, but one of the more traumatized veterans loses his head and shoots Eisenhorn, forcing him to defend himself. By the end of the ensuing gunfight, every last one of the veterans is dead.
Conclusion
I would highly recommend ‘Missing in Action’ to not only someone who’s curious about WH40K but also to anyone trying to get a deeper understanding of what “grimdark” actually means. There’s more to it than just teenaged edginess and needlessly horrible things. It can also manifest and tragedy and no-win scenarios. It can be good people doing bad things with good intentions and other good people needing to destroy them for the greater good. This short story is not required reading for Malleus, but I’m glad it was included all the same.
BACK TO THE TEENAGED TAKE ON GRIMDARK
Take a deep breath, everyone. Next Friday, we make our final plunge into Iron Flame. It’s time to race through the climax.
Chapter 59 and 60 are not the worst chapters in the book. If anything, they have the best plot twist in the book. This is also the plot twist that makes me the angriest and makes me outright dislike Yarros.
I’ve certainly said things in this review that could be taken as criticisms of Yarros, but I’ve only been criticizing the image of herself that she creates through what she injects into her text. As far as I’m concerned, Rebecca Yarros herself is not the same person as the Yarros manifested through the text. This twist changed things. The lies told to the audience here go beyond shoddy writing. Rebecca Yarros had the means to present this twist to the audience without lying to us. Instead, she chose to ignore those assets and brazenly lie to our faces. It speaks volumes of her and her perception of her readers.
I’ll explain this properly on August 23rd. I hope to see you all there. Have a good week.
