The Tawny Man Trilogy
A review of a wonderful fantasy series by Robin Hobb
I finished The Tawny Man trilogy by Robin Hobb last week. It’s the third trilogy in Hobb’s Realm of the Elderlings series and follows the main characters of Fitz and The Fool that we met in the first trilogy. I bought The Farseer trilogy in Cornwall in 1999 on my first visit there with the woman who was to become my wife—we met at Bradford university where we were doing a Masters in Translation and Interpreting and her family is based in Cornwall. I have fond memories of sitting by the River Cam and reading of Fitz and little Molly Nosebleed as kids running round Buckkeep and getting up to all kinds of mischief.
It ended up being one of the most life-affirming series I’d ever read, as it brought the belief in the interconnectedness of life that stayed with me and has evolved over the years. The way that Hobb described the magic systems in these books really resonated with me.
I carried on with the second trilogy, The Liveship Traders. This trilogy is set in a different part of the same universe and follows entirely different characters. I read the first two books while I was working abroad in Almaty in 2000/2001 and keeping a long-distance relationship going. I moved to Luxembourg to be with my now fiancée and that’s where I read the third Liveships book.
But that was it—I was current. The first book in the Tawny Man trilogy came out in 2001, the same year I finished the Liveships, but I didn’t pick it up until 2024. I’m not sure why. Since then I’d reread the Farseer Trilogy and then stopped again. In 2024 I decided I was going to read the whole thing, all sixteen books, reading one book a month. I did pretty well, reading nine books in a year, finally getting to the Tawny Man in September.
There are some spoilers for the Farseer trilogy and Liveship Traders trilogy below.
The Tawny Man begins with Fool’s Errand. We’re back with Fitz and his wolf, Nighteyes, and his young ward, Hap, in his cabin in the country. It’s one of the cosiest and most enjoyable scenes of any book I’ve read and it goes on for over a hundred pages—just Fitz living his best life, seeing to the cooking and kitchen garden, home maintenance and the raising of Hap.
One of Hobb’s strongest skills is in how she writes characters and relationships. At this point, I’d read the first trilogy three times. My worldview came about on the back of my first time reading that trilogy and has evolved since then—I think it’s fair to say that if I know any fictional character at all, I know Fitz. Being back in his company again felt so comfortable. I could have read a whole book of that country life, with visitors’ coming and going, the cycle of the seasons, his daily trials and tribulations. But this is a fantasy series, not a homesteading YouTube channel. Fitz’ idyllic life changes when the Fool stops by with a mission.
I won’t go into plot and spoil anything—you can read the books for that. Instead I’d like to talk about vibes and relationships.
I’ve already mentioned the cosy vibes that I get from the first hundred pages of Fool’s Errand. That shifts as the story shifts into gear. What we get now is an older Fitz—now 35—as he returns to Buckkeep and finds himself reeling in feelings of nostalgia. I found this so relatable. I’ve lived in various countries over the years and sometimes visit the town where I grew up as I don’t live so far away from there now. I even took my kids once to show them my old house and then walked the route I would take to primary school. They couldn’t have cared less, but it was meaningful for me. I even indulged in some nostalgia when I went back to the same bookshop in Cornwall where I bought the Farseer Trilogy and bought Fool’s Errand last summer. It felt right.
Hobb would have been 49 when Fool’s Errand was published, so a good age at which to understand the nostalgia one feels in middle age for one’s youth.
What really stands out for me in these books are the magic systems. Hobb has expanded them here in a way that feels believable. The Skill and Wit were very much seen in the Farseer trilogy as being separate magics—the former’s being the magic of kings and good, the latter’s being the magic of the lowborn and bad. It’s this that forms some of the plotline for the trilogy, with the Witted’s being persecuted despite the Queen’s edict that they be left in peace.
In the Liveship Traders trilogy, we got a glimpse into Skill-healing, though it wasn’t called that in the books. I always wondered what was going on with that. Was it some kind of channelling of universal power? It was, after all, the devout Wintrow who was doing the healing. So does Wintrow have the Skill? Or is religious devotion another path to accessing the same power source?
In the Tawny Man, we get glimpses of how the Skill and the Wit are two sides of the same coin. It has me itching to read more about these magic systems and how they come together. It feels like they were all one power at one time and that the demise of the dragons has somehow caused them to come apart. And what was the Elderlings’ role in all of this? It really makes me wonder how much of this Hobb had planned out from the beginning and how much of it was growing in her mind as she wrote.
Neurodiversity
The character of Thick in this trilogy is well portrayed—and also well read in Nick Taylor’s narration of the audiobook. Here we have a neurodiverse character playing a central role in the plot. I saw in him echoes of a family member of mine with autism and it gave me hope. It was an interesting choice on Hobb’s part to bring in such a strong character as Thick, someone who knows his mind, who is unable to consider consequences beyond his immediate comfort, who is strong-willed and loving, and to have that character be the strongest of the entire coterie in the Skill. I look forward to learning what Thick’s role might be in the final trilogy. I hope she goes further into the musical elements of the magic.
Relationships
Fitz and the Fool
The most important relationship in the trilogy is between Fitz and the Fool. Fitz can’t get away from the notion that romantic relationships are physical and this leads to a rift that, at some points, seems irreconcilable. The way that this plays out is well done, showing character flaws on both sides, and it left me feeling quite emotional. It was deftly done by Hobb, giving us some real tension in the relationship (again) and having that tension form an important part of the plotline.
Chade
The relationship Fitz has with Chade is very different in this trilogy. In the Farseer trilogy, it was very much a master-and-apprentice relationship. Fitz still shows deference towards Chade—possibly something that could never really change for Fitz, given the young age at which Chade took him on—but Chade himself has become difficult and bitter at having had what he sees as his birthright—training in the Skill—taken away from him. Now Fitz is the master and Chade the apprentice, which makes for some interesting dynamics.
Burrich
I feel that Burrich was paid only lip service in this trilogy and I wish that Hobb had done something different here. I can’t say more without getting into spoiler territory.
Those are the main relationships. It’s difficult to write more without giving anything away, so I’ll stop there.
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Have you read this series? What were your thoughts?