Since its debut in 1990, The Wheel of Time® by Robert Jordan has captivated millions of readers around the globe with its scope, originality, and compelling characters.
The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. In the Third Age, an Age of Prophecy, the World and Time themselves hang in the balance. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow.
For three days battle has raged in the snow around the great city of Tar Valon. In the city, a Foretelling of the future is uttered. On the slopes of Dragonmount, the immense mountain that looms over the city, is born an infant prophesied to change the world. That child must be found before the forces of the Shadow have an opportunity to kill him.
Moiraine Damodred, a young Accepted soon to be raised to Aes Sedai, and Lan Mandragoran, a soldier fighting in the battle, are set on paths that will bind their lives together. But those paths are filled with complications and dangers, for Moiraine, of the Royal House of Cairhien, whose king has just died, and Lan, considered the uncrowned king of a nation long dead, find their lives threatened by the plots of those seeking power.
"New Spring" related some of these events, in compressed form; New Spring: The Novel tells the whole story.
The Wheel of Time®
New Spring: The Novel
#1 The Eye of the World
#2 The Great Hunt
#3 The Dragon Reborn
#4 The Shadow Rising
#5 The Fires of Heaven
#6 Lord of Chaos
#7 A Crown of Swords
#8 The Path of Daggers
#9 Winter's Heart
#10 Crossroads of Twilight
#11 Knife of Dreams
By Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson
#12 The Gathering Storm
#13 Towers of Midnight
#14 A Memory of Light
By Robert Jordan and Teresa Patterson
The World of Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time
By Robert Jordan, Harriet McDougal, Alan Romanczuk, and Maria Simons
The Wheel of Time Companion
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
About the Author
Robert Jordan was born in 1948 in Charleston, South Carolina. He taught himself to read when he was four with the incidental aid of a twelve-years-older brother, and was tackling Mark Twain and Jules Verne by five. He is a graduate of The Citadel, the Military College of South Carolina, with a degree in physics. He served two tours in Vietnam with the U.S. Army; among his decorations are the Distinguished Flying Cross with bronze oak leaf cluster, the Bronze Star with "V" and bronze oak leaf cluster, and two Vietnamese Gallantry Crosses with palm. A history buff, he has also written dance and theater criticism and enjoyed the outdoor sports of hunting, fishing, and sailing, and the indoor sports of poker, chess, pool, and pipe collecting.
Robert Jordan began writing in 1977 and went on to write The Wheel of Time®, one of the most important and best selling series in the history of fantasy publishing with over 14 million copies sold in North America, and countless more sold abroad.
Robert Jordan died on September 16, 2007, after a courageous battle with the rare blood disease amyloidosis.
Robert Jordan was born in 1948 in Charleston, South Carolina. He taught himself to read when he was four with the incidental aid of a twelve-years-older brother, and was tackling Mark Twain and Jules Verne by five. He is a graduate of The Citadel, the Military College of South Carolina, with a degree in physics. He served two tours in Vietnam with the U.S. Army; among his decorations are the Distinguished Flying Cross with bronze oak leaf cluster, the Bronze Star with "V" and bronze oak leaf cluster, and two Vietnamese Gallantry Crosses with palm. A history buff, he has also written dance and theater criticism and enjoyed the outdoor sports of hunting, fishing, and sailing, and the indoor sports of poker, chess, pool, and pipe collecting. Robert Jordan began writing in 1977 and went on to write The Wheel of Time®, one of the most important and best selling series in the history of fantasy publishing with over 14 million copies sold in North America, and countless more sold abroad. Robert Jordan died on September 16, 2007, after a courageous battle with the rare blood disease amyloidosis.
Date of Birth:October 17, 1948
Date of Death:September 16, 2007
Place of Birth:Charleston, South Carolina
Place of Death:Charleston, South Carolina
Education:B.S. in physics, The Citadel, 1974
Read an Excerpt
By Robert Jordan
Tom Doherty AssociatesCopyright © 2004 The Bandersnatch Group, Inc.
All rights reserved.
A cold wind gusted through the night, across the snow-covered land where men had been killing one another for the past three days. The air was crisp, if not so icy as Lan expected for this time of year. It was still cold enough for his steel breastplate to carry the chill through his coat, and his breath to mist in front of his face when the wind did not whip it away. The blackness in the sky was just beginning to fade, the thousands of stars like the thick-scattered dust of diamonds slowly dimming. The fat sickle of the moon hung low, giving barely light to make out the silhouettes of the men guarding the fireless camp in the sprawling copse of oak and leatherleaf. Fires would have given them away to the Aiel. He had fought the Aiel long before this war began, on the Shienaran marches, a matter of duty to friends. Aielmen were bad enough in daylight. Facing them in the night was as close to staking your life on the toss of a coin as made no difference. Of course, sometimes they found you without fires.
Resting a gauntleted hand on his sword in its scabbard, he pulled his cloak back around himself and continued his round of the sentries through calf-deep snow. It was an ancient sword, made with the One Power before the Breaking of the World, during the War of the Shadow, when the Dark One had touched the world for a time. Only legends remained of that Age, except perhaps for what the Aes Sedai might know, yet the blade was hard fact. It could not be broken and never needed sharpening. The hilt had been replaced countless times over the long centuries, but not even tarnish could touch the blade. Once, it had been the sword of Malkieri kings.
The next sentry he came to, a short stocky fellow in a long dark cloak, was leaning back against the trunk of a heavy-limbed oak, his head slumped on his chest. Lan touched the sentry's shoulder, and the man jerked upright, almost dropping the horn-and-sinew horsebow gripped in his gloved hands. The hood of his cloak slid back, revealing his conical steel helmet for an instant before he hastily pulled the cowl up again. In the pale moonlight, Lan could not make out the man's face behind the vertical bars of his faceguard, but he knew him. Lan's own helmet was open, in the style of dead Malkier, supporting a steel crescent moon above his forehead.
"I wasn't sleeping, my Lord," the fellow said quickly. "Just resting a moment." A copper-skinned Domani, he sounded embarrassed, and rightly so. This was not his first battle, or even his first war.
"An Aiel would have wakened you by slitting your throat or putting a spear through your heart, Basram," Lan said in a quiet voice. Men listened closer to calm tones than to the loudest shouts, so long as firmness and certainty accompanied the calm. "Maybe it would be better without the temptation of the tree so near." He refrained from adding that even if the Aiel did not kill him, the man risked frostbite standing in one place too long. Basram knew that. Winters were nearly as cold in Arad Doman as in the Borderlands.
Mumbling an apology, the Domani respectfully touched his helmet and moved three paces out from the tree. He held himself erect, now, and peered into the darkness. He shifted his feet, too, guarding against blackened toes. Rumor said Aes Sedai were offering Healing, closer to the river, injuries and sickness gone as if they had never been, but without that, amputation was the usual way to stop a man losing his feet to black-rot, and maybe his legs as well. In any case, it was best to avoid becoming involved with Aes Sedai more than absolutely necessary. Years later you could find one of them had tied strings to you just in case she might have need. Aes Sedai thought far ahead, and seldom seemed to care who they used in their schemes or how. That was one reason Lan avoided them.
How long would Basram's renewed alertness last? Lan wished he had the answer, but there was no point in taking the Domani to task further. All of the men he commanded were bone-weary. Likely every man in the army of the grandly named Great Coalition — sometimes it was called the Grand Coalition, or the Grand Alliance, or half a dozen other things, some worse than uncomplimentary — likely every last man was near exhaustion. A battle was hot work, snow or no snow, and tiring. Muscles could knot from tension even when they had the chance to stop for a time, and the last few days had offered small chance to stop very long.
The camp held well over three hundred men, a full quarter of them on guard at any given time — against Aiel, Lan wanted as many eyes as he could manage — and before he had gone another two hundred paces, he had had to wake three more, one asleep on his feet without any support at all. Jaim's head was up, and his eyes open. That was a trick some soldiers learned, especially old soldiers like Jaim. Cutting off the gray-bearded man's protests that he could not have been asleep, not standing up straight, Lan promised to let Jaim's friends know if he found him sleeping again.
Jaim's mouth hung open for a moment; then he swallowed hard. "Won't happen again, my Lord. The Light sear my soul if it does!" He sounded sincere to his bones. Some men would have been afraid that their friends would drub them senseless for putting the rest in danger, but given the company Jaim kept, more likely he dreaded the humiliation of having been caught.
As Lan walked on, he found himself chuckling. He seldom laughed, and it was a fool thing to laugh over, but laughter was better than worrying over what he could not change, such as weary men drowsing on guard. As well worry about death. What could not be changed must be endured.
Abruptly, he stopped and raised his voice. "Bukama, why are you sneaking about? You've been following me since I woke." A startled grunt came from behind him. Doubtless Bukama had thought he was being silent, and in truth, very few men would have heard the faint crunching of his boots in the snow, yet he should have known Lan would. After all, he had been one of Lan's teachers, and one of the first lessons had been to be aware of his surroundings at all times, even in his sleep. Not an easy lesson for a boy to learn, but only the dead could afford oblivion. The oblivious soon became the dead, in the Blight beyond the Borderlands.
"I've been watching your back," Bukama announced gruffly, striding up to join him. "One of these black-veiled Aiel Darkfriends could sneak in and cut your throat for all the care you're taking. Have you forgotten everything I taught you?" Bluff and broad, Bukama was almost as tall as he, taller than most men, and wearing a Malkieri helmet without a crest, though he had the right to one. He had more concern for his duties than his rights, which was proper, but Lan wished he would not spurn his rights so completely.
When the nation of Malkier died, twenty men had been given the task of carrying the infant Lan Mandragoran to safety. Only five had survived that journey, to raise Lan from the cradle and train him, and Bukama was the last left alive. His hair was solid gray now, worn cut at the shoulder as tradition required, but his back was straight, his arms hard, his blue eyes clear and keen. Tradition infused Bukama. A thin braided leather cord held his hair back, resting in the permanent groove across his forehead it had made over the years. Few men still wore the hadori. Lan did. He would die wearing it, and go into the ground wearing that and nothing else. If there was anyone to bury him where he died. He glanced north, toward his distant home. Most people would have thought it a strange place to call home, but he had felt the pull of it ever since he came south.
"I remembered enough to hear you," he replied. There was too little light to make out Bukama's weathered face, yet he knew it wore a glower. He could not recall seeing any other expression from his friend and teacher even when he spoke praise. Bukama was steel clothed in flesh. Steel his will, duty his soul. "Do you still believe the Aiel are pledged to the Dark One?"
The other man made a sign to ward off evil, as if Lan had spoken the Dark One's true name. Shai'tan. They had both seen the misfortune that followed speaking that name aloud, and Bukama was one of those who believed that merely thinking it drew the Dark One's attention. The Dark One and all the Forsaken are bound in Shayol Ghul, Lan recited the catechism in his head, bound by the Creator at the moment of creation. May we shelter safe beneath the Light, in the Creator's hand. He did not believe thinking that name was enough, but better safe than sorry when it came to the Shadow.
"If they aren't, then why are we here?" Bukama said sourly. And surprisingly. He liked to grumble, but always about inconsequential things or prospects for the future. Never the present.
"I gave my word to stay until the end," Lan replied mildly.
Bukama scrubbed at his nose. His grunt might have been abashed this time. It was hard to be sure. Another of his lessons had been that a man's word must be as good as an oath sworn beneath the Light or it was no good at all.
The Aiel had indeed seemed like a horde of Darkfriends when they suddenly spilled across the immense mountain range called the Spine of the World. They had burned the great city of Cairhien, ravaged the nation of Cairhien, and, in the two years since, had fought through Tear and then Andor before reaching these killing fields, outside the huge island city of Tar Valon. In all the years since the nations of the present day had been carved out of Artur Hawkwing's empire, the Aiel had never before left the desert called the Waste. They might have invaded before that; no one could be sure, except maybe the Aes Sedai in Tar Valon, but, as so often with the women of the White Tower, they were not saying. What Aes Sedai knew, they held close, and doled out by dribbles and drops when and if they chose. In the world outside of Tar Valon, though, many men had claimed to see a pattern. A thousand years had passed between the Breaking of the World and the Trolloc Wars, or so most historians said. Those wars had destroyed the nations that existed then, and no one doubted that the Dark One's hand had been behind them, imprisoned or not, as surely as it had been behind the War of the Shadow, and the Breaking, and the end of the Age of Legends. A thousand years from the Trolloc Wars until Hawkwing built an empire and that, too, was destroyed, after his death, in the War of the Hundred Years. Some historians said they saw the Dark One's hand in that war, too. And now, close enough to a thousand years after Hawkwing's empire died, the Aiel came, burning and killing. It had to be a pattern. Surely the Dark One must have directed them. Lan would never have come south if he had not believed that. He no longer did. But he had given his word.
He wriggled his toes in his turned-down boots. Whether or not it was as cold as he was used to, iciness burrowed into your feet if you stood too long in one place in snow. "Let's walk," he said. "I don't doubt I'll have to wake a dozen more men if not two." And make another round to wake others.
Before they could take a step, however, a sound brought them up short, and alert: the sound of a horse walking in the snow. Lan's hand drifted to his sword hilt, half consciously easing the blade in its sheath. A faint rasp of steel on leather came from Bukama doing the same. Neither feared an attack; Aiel rode only at great need, and reluctantly even then. But a lone horseman at this hour had to be a messenger, and messengers rarely brought good news, these days. Especially not in the night.
Horse and rider materialized out of the darkness following a lean man afoot, one of the sentries by the horsebow he carried. The horse had the arched neck of good Tairen bloodstock, and the rider was plainly from Tear as well. For one thing, the scent of roses came ahead of him on the wind, from the oils glistening on his pointed beard, and only Tairens were fool enough to wear scent, as if the Aiel had no noses. Besides, no one else wore those helmets with a high ridge across the top and a rim that cast the man's narrow face in shadow. A single short white plume on the helmet marked him an officer, an odd choice for a messenger, albeit an officer of low rank. He huddled in his high-cantled saddle and held his dark cloak tightly around him. He seemed to be shivering. Tear lay far to the south. On the coast of Tear, it never snowed so much as a single flake. Lan had never quite believed that, whatever he had read, until he had seen it for himself.
"Here he is, my Lord," the sentry said in a hoarse voice. A grizzled Saldaean named Rakim, he had received that voice a year back, along with a ragged scar that he liked to show off when drinking, from an Aiel arrow in the throat. Rakim considered himself lucky to be alive, and he was. Unfortunately, he also believed that having cheated death once, he would continue to do so. He took chances, and even when not drinking, he boasted about his luck, a fool thing to do. There was no point to taunting fate.
"Lord Mandragoran?" The rider drew rein in front of Lan and Bukama. Remaining in his saddle, he eyed them uncertainly, no doubt because their armor was unadorned, their coats and cloaks plain wool and somewhat worn. A little embroidery was a fine thing, but some southern men decked themselves out like tapestries. Likely under his cloak the Tairen wore a gilded breastplate and a silk satin coat striped in his house colors. His high boots were certainly embroidered in scrollwork that shone in the moonlight with the glitter of silver. In any case, the man went on with barely a pause for breath. "The Light burn my soul, I was sure you were the closest, but I was beginning to think I'd never find you. Lord Emares is following about five or six hundred Aiel with six hundred of his armsmen." He shook his head slightly. "Odd thing is, they're heading east. Away from the river. At any rate, the snow slows them as much as it does us, and Lord Emares thinks if you can place an anvil on that ridgeline they call the Hook, he can take them from behind with a hammer. Lord Emares doubts they can reach it before first light."
Lan's mouth tightened. Some of these southlanders had peculiar notions of polite behavior. Not dismounting before he spoke, not naming himself. As a guest, he should have named himself first. Now Lan could not without sounding boastful. The fellow had failed even to offer his lord's compliments or good wishes. And he seemed to think they did not know that east would be away from the River Erinin. Perhaps that was just carelessness in speech, but the rest was rudeness. Bukama had not moved, yet Lan laid a hand on his sword-arm anyway. His oldest friend could be touchy.
The Hook lay a good league from the camp, and the night was failing, but he nodded. "Inform Lord Emares that I will be there by first light," he told the horseman. The name Emares was unfamiliar, but the army was so large, near two hundred thousand men representing more than a dozen nations, plus Tower Guards from Tar Valon and even a contingent of the Children of the Light, that it was impossible to know above a handful of names. "Bukama, rouse the men."
Bukama grunted, savagely this time, and with a gesture for Rakim to follow, stalked away into the camp, his voice rising as he went. "Wake and saddle! We ride! Wake and saddle!"
"Ride hard," the nameless Tairen said with at least a hint of command in his voice. "Lord Emares would regret riding against those Aiel without an anvil in place." He seemed to be implying that Lan would regret this Emares' regretting.
Lan formed the image of a flame in his mind and fed emotion into it, not anger alone but everything, every scrap, until it seemed that he floated in emptiness. After years of practice, achieving ko'di, the oneness, needed less than a heartbeat. Thought and his own body grew distant, but in this state he became one with the ground beneath his feet, one with the night, with the sword he would not use on this mannerless fool. "I said that I would be there," he said levelly. "What I say, I do." He no longer wished to know the man's name.
The Tairen offered him a curt bow from his saddle, turned his horse, and booted the animal to a quick trot.
Lan held the ko'di a moment longer to be sure his emotions were firmly under control. It was beyond unwise to enter battle angry. Anger narrowed the vision and made for foolish choices. How had that fellow managed to stay alive this long? In the Borderlands, he would have sparked a dozen duels in a day. Only when Lan was sure that he was calm, almost as cool as if he were still wrapped in the oneness, did he turn. Summoning the Tairen's shadowed face brought no anger with it. Good.
Excerpted from New Spring by Robert Jordan. Copyright © 2004 The Bandersnatch Group, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Tom Doherty Associates.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents1 The Hook,
2 A Wish Fulfilled,
4 Leaving the Tower,
5 The Human Heart,
7 The Itch,
8 Shreds of Serenity,
9 It Begins,
10 It Finishes,
11 Just Before Dawn,
12 Entering Home,
13 Business in the City,
15 Into Canluum,
16 The Deeps,
17 An Arrival,
18 A Narrow Passage,
19 Pond Water,
20 Breakfast in Manala,
21 Some Tricks of the Power,
22 Keeping Custom,
23 The Evening Star,
24 Making Use of Invisibility,
25 An Answer,
26 When to Surrender,
Tor Books by Robert Jordan,
About the Author,
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
The Wheel of Time series has readers that span the whole spectrum of 'Hated it' to religiously 'Loved It.' If you're looking for trite James Patterson-esque fiction you have come to the wrong place. Jordan has created a world so complex and real that the average reader isn't going to find value in complete immersion, which is what this story requires. No, every chapter isn't overflowing with action. No, every chapter isn't world-changing and sweat- inducing. But, God is in the details and The Wheel of Time seriously needs to be read 3 or 4 times to reasonably understand most of what's going on. A large part of the story is what isn't being said, and what isn't described. That makes it tough when related details are in different chapters and different books, but that's the way it works. You can't expect to read these waiting for the bus or between classes, you almost have to take notes of some chapters. Why is Moiraine the only person to find the Green Man twice? We aren't told, but we can guess. Who is Demandred? Who killed Asmodean? If you read close enough the personal asides and narrative thoughts all makes sense. Jordan doesn't sow details haphazardly, everything has meaning...and it's up to the reader to make the details work. It's not an easy task, but this series isn't for the average reader. If you read close enough, the first three books foreshadow the whole series, and every dream, viewing, and prediction has value. To be honest, the best way to read these is in a group, because each character merits discussion. True, some of the characters are petty and predictable, and one reviewer's deux ex machina comments might have merit, but to be realistic and grand in a whole-world setting not everyone is going to agree all of the time. Most people aren't going to drop everything and go save the world, they have to buy in...or be steered to. Therein lies Jordan's lesson in politics. Study well. It isn't always pretty but most of the time people need to think things are their own ideas, and that covers books 7-10. New Spring introduces two of the most complex characters in the series, and how they came to be together. Jordan's borrowed circular-time theory and overwhelming sense of fate makes each character affect every other, in some way, and that's all part of it. History, politics, magic, religion, fantasy, it's all here, but you have to be willing to sacrifice some serious reading time. The hardest part is going to the bookstore after you read these, since nothing else seems quite as good. Good luck.
Just because you get to lazy to continue reading the series doesn't mean you should try to talk others out of it. This is an exceptional series which I reccomend everyone read.
I really enjoyed seeing Moiraine as a young woman and not an icy Aes Sedai, and the young Lan was nice to meet. Jordan can drag this out as long as he darn well wants to - I, for one, will be purchasing whatever he writes. To the naysayers, whiners and those wanting an end: who is forcing you to read these books? An irate member of the Green Ajah who wants to battle your backside for badmouthing her creator? WhatEVER! Don't like 'em anymore, don't read 'em anymore. Quit whining.
New Spring: The Novel was a good place to start off the The Wheel of Time series. Robert Jordan wrote this book as if it was meant to be the first of the series 'even though it was a prequel to the main series'. The book develops the personalities of a younger Moiraine Damodred and Lan 'the two characters the book revolves around', and their travels until meeting each other. The books does have a tendency to change characters at odd times and often times left me with many questions on what one character is doing while the book is describing the other character. New Spring is also only those with patience. The books has some unneeded filler details that last for one or chapters at a time with little exciting moments. Though these selections have almost no effect on the plot, they do dive into the true personalities of Lan and Moiraine.
The only prequel to the Wheel of Time that was completed before Robert Jordan's death. It is in his usual style, and is an enjoyable read for anyone curious about how Lan and Moraine met.
The Wheel of Time prequel, New Spring, is a very good addition to the series written by Robert Jordan. I read New Spring after Booke 5, The Fires of Heaven, based off the recommendation of several WoT fans instead of after Crossroads of Twilight (Book 10) when the prequel was published. Considering that Moiraine and Lan are the main POV characters throught the book and that after the events of The Fires of Heaven, reading the prequel when I did made New Spring both enjoyable and bittersweet. Obviously New Spring helps explain the motivations of both Moiraine and Lan when we first meet them in The Eye of the World, but it also gives us a view of the "normal" workings of Aes Sedai and the White Tower before the unusual happenings already seen in the series. Politics of the world are fully in view with Lan finding himself in the midst of the "biggest" political storm. If I were to find a bad thing about New Spring is that some of the material that Jordan wrote to expand New Spring from a short story to a full novel(la) seems to be just filler making the story bog down a tad. Overall, New Spring is a good quality introduction to some of the "older" characters of the early Wheel of Time books and I fully recommend reading it, especially after Book 5, The Fires of Heaven.
Now that the final installment for the WoT series is out, I've decided to re-start reading the whole series. To be honest, I only reached book 5 on my first attempt at reading the series. I stopped not because it's not worth reading. I stopped because, I could not accomplish getting any schoolwork done. With WoT, reading became an addiction. The story was just that riveting. It's an understatement to say that I was a fan of the series. Now that I have grown accustomed to a reading schedule, I've decided to re-read the series again. And this time, I intend to finish it. It was difficult for me to decide where to start reading. Do I read from Book 1: The Eye of the World? Or do I start from this prequel New Spring. I ended up re-starting the series with New Spring. Reading the first chapter made me think that I've made the wrong choice. Since, I've read Book 1-5 more than 10 years ago, it was a little bit difficult remembering the characters and concepts. This prequel made a lot of references to concepts introduced in the other books. Anyone, who have not read at least one of books written before New Spring would not understand the references made in the first few chapters of New Spring. This I feel is a major fault of this prequel. Those new to WoT who decide to start the series with New Spring, might be turned off from reading the whole series. Reading this book made me fall in love with Moraine and Lan. And after much musings, I think it was a good decision to re-start reading WoT with New Spring. I don't really mind the initial confusion I went through.
I say boo to anyone tired of a great series. As long as Jordan makes a good book, why end it. I haven't found but a handful of authors I slobber for their next book, but Jordan is one of them. Who cares about an ending, it just means the story is over, and you have to read some hack's work until you stumble on someone else you like. Crank 'em out, I'll read 'em.
After writing most of his "Wheel of Time" series, Robert Jordan went back and penned this prequel. It exhibits all of his talent and skill (honed by the 11 preceding books in the series). New Spring is the work of an experienced author--an absorbing plot, interesting characters, adept world-building, and an involved magic system. There's so much to love here, and after multiple readings, New Spring has become my favorite fantasy book in a long time.
I didn't find out about this series until New Spring (the prequel) came out. I read it before any of the others, before I knew how many books were in the series and how many were yet to be written. I was devastated to learn that Robert Jordan had a fatal illness; what a talented man and such a loss. I am so thankful that Mr. Jordan decided to entrust his notes for the final books to Brandon Sanderson so that he could prepare them for the fans. I have read and re-read the books as they came out and I will re-read them for years to come. Remember that New Spring is a prequel... there is no need for it to be a monster novel. Just make sure you have "Eye of the World" ready to pick up when you are done. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!
Now that WOT has finally ended, I've started re-reading the series, and the ebooks make this projects much more user friendly. Waiting anxiously for the ebook version of AMoL ...
I read this many years ago, and had to buy it to prepare for my re-read witht he 14th book coming out in January next year. It gives great background information about Moiraine and Lan and is a perfect introduction to the Eye of the World.
Did all you demanding impatient cynics screaming "finish the series!" realize that the author had a fatal illness? Pathetic. Grow up already.
Classic and worth the read
I love this book. Finally finished it after three years. The details are astounding and visiual is amazing.
New Spring is a prequel to the entire Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan. This is a stand-alone book that takes place 20 years before Eye of the World, focusing on Moiraine and Siuan who have recently been raised to full Aes Sedai.
There is a lot of information stored in just one small book. New Spring: The Novel is a prequel that takes you through the beginning of the entire series of The Wheel of Time. Written by Robert Jordan, it explains what the mysterious Aes Sedai are and some of the mysteries that are found inside the White Tower. The book also explains some of the myths and legends found throughout the entire book and the future storyline.I started the entire series with this book. I came into it with no prior knowledge of the universe it is set in and didn't know the style it was written in. Upon reading the first couple pages, I knew that it will be quite a good book and that I will most definitely have to buy the rest.The book is filled with witty banter and funny scenes that will connect with everyone's childish side. Also, it really makes you remember times when you where in school and your teachers would be quite strict with you, no matter what you ended up doing. Jordan really transports you to the world of the book with his captivating descriptions and wonderful dialogue. Throughout the story, he introduces new characters with a personality of their own, and makes you love and hate them at the same time.However, I did find myself lost in all the new information some of the times. A lot of things going by very quickly in the book and you my find yourself not knowing what the characters are talking about when the reference a myth or an item here that is very briefly mentioned at early stages of the book. Some of the things aren't very clearly explained though they are clearly important part of the entire book. It seems that he had wrote it where by reading through some of the main books of the series, you would already know some of the things mentioned in the prequel.Overall, the book is a good way to enter yourself into the world that Jordan has woven in the other books he has written. It provides you with some insight into some of the more mysterious and less talked about parts of the entire series. However, there are some things that aren't explained completely clearly in the book, and you may have to read it over again once. New Spring: The Novel caught my attention at a local bookstore and it hooked me onto the entire series. Most likely, it will hook you on as well.
Yet another great installment in the wonderful Wheel of Time series. I read this right before Towers of Midnight, and I'm glad I did, because TofM referenced this novel! It was very interesting to get Moiraine's backstory, and to find out more about the White Tower and Aes Sedai. I also enjoyed reading this one in particular when I did because it reminded me of Robert Jordan's writing style, and how it differs from Brandon Sanderson's. (I like them both very much.) This novel didn't feel essential to the WoT series, but I still liked it a lot.
This book was moderately better than I expected. Moiraine and Lan are two of my favorite characters from the series, so it was nice to get a heavy dose of both (something not available in any of the recent WoT books). It includes some strong scenes, most of which had already been in the novella (with the notable exception of the Aes Sedai test which I thought was quite cool). I was glad to learn a bit more about Randland economics and a lot more about Moiraine's position vis-a-vis the Cairhien political scene. I found the revelation about Moiraine and Siuan's "pillow friend" relationship odd, but not particularly troubling. The not so good stuff would include the entire Cadsuane scene (just when you think Jordan may have some purpose for her beyond irritating readers), and I felt like our dynamic duo was often jumping to conclusions that they didn't really have enough information to reach. In the end, this is a book in which both Moiraine and Lan come of age; Jordan could made this transformation more compelling.
Thoroughly enjoyed this book. A quick, light tempo kept the story engaging while keeping it from the density of the main series. I liked the background of Lan and Moiraine's relationship; however, I think a knowledge of the main series plot is helpful.
With the release of The Gathering Storm announced for November of 2009 it is time once more to read all the preceeding books and reimmerse oneself into the rich and complex world of Robert Jordan. I am older now than when I first began this journey. Middle aged instead of a young adult. I see the world differently and not as recklessly as before.That may have changed my feeling for the writer, who has gone. In the first paragraph, '...fat sickle of the moon hung low, giving barely light...' Right away i am taken out of the story and forced to wonder why the words sounds horrible in my ears. For they do. Here is a writer who at this time has 2 proofreaders to catch this and there are several other blatant mistakes like that throughout.In any event we start with Lan as young man around the time of Rand's birthing. The Aiel War. One chapter later we are in the midst of Tower politics and wondering if any of what we read contradicts what has been written elsewhere. It does seem to do so. We stay with the tower and the beginning of Moiraines quest to find the Dragon. That Moiraine finds the Black Ajah, fine, but that they don't find her, rubbish. They Black have no compunction about killing. Two very strong Accepted don't lean their way. Both attended the Amyrlin who they kill when the critical information came to light. Questioned and killed out of hand. The entire Black Ajah piece, and why the rulers of Kandor are brought into it for no gain for the Black is all rushed and ill thought out. Trying to tie to gether the Legends short story, but in the end fails.Further, writers learn about show, don't tell, but Jordan has used his fame and ability to sell books to a produce this short piece for full price. And to use exposition to the detriment of development.The book would never stand on its own. And only should be kept in your collection to complete the series. If you can get away without having a tactile copy in your hand, then you could save a great deal of space for something better. In all New Spring is a disappointment, and it was a great disservice. The entire last quarter is something that Jordan normally would have spent his time expanding and enriching. In all it seems like an outline he rushed together.
Really, really fabulous. This book expands the short story of the same title that was included in Legends. I was afraid it wouldn¿t present anything of value over that which was included in the original story. I was very wrong though. This book goes into a lot of detail on the inner workings of the White Tower. It was so fascinating to have so many mysteries revealed. Also, I think it may even be the first time the inner parts of the Tower have been described so well. It was also really fantastic to read something new from Jordan that actually had some plot movement in it. Of import is that Moiraine is fairly certain that Cadsuane is Black Ajah. That does not bode well for Rand in the present storyline of the series.
While this story appears in a shorter form in the Legends anthology, the novel version is well worth the read. In a way, New Spring proves to be a short rest from the unending drama unfolding in the rest of the Wheel of Time series. It is short, complete, and self-contained, and it even gives us insight into what is going on in the main storyline.
The early history of Moiraine and Siuan Sanche. Very interesting and more history. Finally a look at what the final test to be an Aes Sedai entails.