The Chronicles of the Cheysuli, Jennifer Roberson
parents and children and parents and chil
To this day (almost forty years later!), the Chronicles of the Cheysuli series stands out in my mind for one of the most clever premises for a series in fantasy… and I have read a lot of fantasy. The story of this eight-book cycle is based on a prophecy, that one day a single child will unite four warring nations and two magical races. The challenge, then: to produce a child of the right bloodlines before those who want to ensure the prophecy is never fulfilled manage to kill or suborn the children as they make their way down the genetic chain. Each book’s protagonist is the child from the preceding book’s couple, and is one step closer to the prophecy’s end, until we reach the triumphant conclusion with the birth of the (literally!) magic child, who is confirmed as the heir to the power of the Firstborn, beloved of the gods.
I love these books for their generational continuity across installments. I loved tracking who got whose hair color, eye color, special powers. I was riveted by the travails of the men and women thrust into arranged marriages, as they strove to have enough children to serve the prophecy (and each nation’s succession) in a fantasy world where having children is dangerous to mother and child. And of course, since one of the magical races bonds with an animal and can take that shape, I delighted in discovering what animal each protagonist would end up with. While the individual novels tend to be immersed in “coming-of-age” themes, for once this feels placed in proper context, because we see the children becoming parents themselves. These characters do not exist in a familial and societal vacuum, where their only purpose is in becoming a young adult, and the interest in their lives ends there. They continue on in the life cycle, with surviving characters becoming grandparents and elders whose wisdom we understand, because we watched them buy it at great cost in their books… while we sympathize anew with the children who don’t know or care about old history, and are absorbed in their own problems.
Written in the mid-80s (I think the last book was finished in the early 90s), these stories are full of tropes that will disturb some modern readers, and gratify others. A series based on breeding humans to a desired end in a fantasy world with no technology is necessarily harsh about childbearing. There’s little female liberation in these series, in the modern sense, and the books with female narrators do not allow them to flout their destinies as pawns in the prophecy no matter their desires to escape them. Men don’t escape their destinies either, but they seem to have more agency (when in truth, having just as little). They defend their women, children, and realms. They go to war. They are not sensitive in a feminine way. Likewise, even the female character who leans most heavily toward female empowerment never wants to be a man. Brutally, she is portrayed as wanting be a woman without the responsibilities of womanhood. This is believably written, but as a message it won’t resonate with everyone. Everyone marries. Everyone has children. These are considered good and desirable things. Family and duty are key; the sexes do not permit each other to intrude on one another’s domains. Women do women things, and men do men things. And the prophecy grinds on to its dramatic conclusion.
Some will find the story irritating, as its themes are no longer popular. But those fascinated with how generations of family history shape each succeeding generation, and who are tired of contextless heroes who seem to exist free of their parents and eventual children, may find a great deal to enjoy. And if, like me, you are fascinated by family trees and genetic inheritances, and like things that come in sets, you will probably enjoy seeing who marries whom, who produces a child with what characteristics, and who ends up on what throne.
The first book, Shapechangers, shows the author’s newness the most. It is my least favorite (both when I read it first, decades ago, and now again). But the books that follow become better and better… as they should, since they represent almost a decade of practice on the author’s part. If the premise intrigues you, give her a book or two before you decide whether to keep reading.
Not many stories in science fiction and fantasy bother to delve into the parent/child/parent cycle. I can’t think of any that plumb it so deeply. I read the Chronicles first when I was a child. Now I read it as a parent, and it speaks to me differently. That the series can tell me new and different things based on where I am… that’s not usual. So I’m telling you about these books, so that you can decide whether they have something to say to you.
The Chronicles of the Cheysuli, Jennifer Roberson. Start with Shapechangers.
