This book is, by Sanderson standards, a pretty fast read. But there's a lot going on here, so my inter-book comparisons are likely going to jump around from book to book.
First of all: it begins as a white room mystery. The narrator has no individual memories and no idea what he's doing in this alternate dimension, but gradually, identity trickles back. So we're in the territory of Project Hail Mary or Nine Princes in Amber. Also like PHM, when the narrator remembers that someone he cares about is dead, he gets choked up but without specific memories to accompany it: "It was strange to feel a sudden sense of loss and pain for a person whose face I couldn’t remember." Later, as he (John West) gradually regains his memories, he realizes that his past and motivation for showing up here weren't as heroic as he first assumed--again, much like Ryland Grace. In the afterword, Sanderson cites PHM as an influence. Unfortunately, "Frugal Wizard's Handbook" is less catchy with the science than PHM, but also, less "ah, somehow, I remembered!" than NPiM, at least after the early going.
I also noticed some parallels to other (especially non-Cosmere) Sanderson works. Like David from the Reckoners, John has a running narrative "joke" gimmick--in this case, rating all his experiences on a five-star scale. Like Legion 2, his futuristic tech contrasts "Local, on-body data" and "wetware hard drive"s with remote access. And like the narrator from Snapshot, he's resentful of a system that contrasts "good cops" and "bad cops"--not the kind that beat you up, but the kind that do boring grunt work because they can't be trusted with anything else.
But most of all, like Ann the incompetent assistant cannonmaster from Tress of the Emerald Sea, John is a loser. Not a born loser, and not cursed by the gods. But both John and Ann experience setbacks in their lives (Ann in shooting guns, John in everything he tries), and that creates self-reinforcing prophecies. If you enter a situation with the mindset that of course you're a failure, it perpetuates and becomes a vicious circle. The good news is, it also works the other way!
The setting is a slightly-alternate universe version of medieval England. The locals are Anglo-Saxons, whose bards speak in alliterative verse, and who live in fear of the Hordamen (Vikings) from across the sea. Their lives are hard, but they're very brave and loyal, and not dumb; in fact, their perspective on John's world (2100s Seattle) is very insightful.
But as it goes on, the quoted excerpts get more and more handwavey/breaking-the-fourth wall.
First of all: it begins as a white room mystery. The narrator has no individual memories and no idea what he's doing in this alternate dimension, but gradually, identity trickles back. So we're in the territory of Project Hail Mary or Nine Princes in Amber. Also like PHM, when the narrator remembers that someone he cares about is dead, he gets choked up but without specific memories to accompany it: "It was strange to feel a sudden sense of loss and pain for a person whose face I couldn’t remember." Later, as he (John West) gradually regains his memories, he realizes that his past and motivation for showing up here weren't as heroic as he first assumed--again, much like Ryland Grace. In the afterword, Sanderson cites PHM as an influence. Unfortunately, "Frugal Wizard's Handbook" is less catchy with the science than PHM, but also, less "ah, somehow, I remembered!" than NPiM, at least after the early going.
I also noticed some parallels to other (especially non-Cosmere) Sanderson works. Like David from the Reckoners, John has a running narrative "joke" gimmick--in this case, rating all his experiences on a five-star scale. Like Legion 2, his futuristic tech contrasts "Local, on-body data" and "wetware hard drive"s with remote access. And like the narrator from Snapshot, he's resentful of a system that contrasts "good cops" and "bad cops"--not the kind that beat you up, but the kind that do boring grunt work because they can't be trusted with anything else.
But most of all, like Ann the incompetent assistant cannonmaster from Tress of the Emerald Sea, John is a loser. Not a born loser, and not cursed by the gods. But both John and Ann experience setbacks in their lives (Ann in shooting guns, John in everything he tries), and that creates self-reinforcing prophecies. If you enter a situation with the mindset that of course you're a failure, it perpetuates and becomes a vicious circle. The good news is, it also works the other way!
The setting is a slightly-alternate universe version of medieval England. The locals are Anglo-Saxons, whose bards speak in alliterative verse, and who live in fear of the Hordamen (Vikings) from across the sea. Their lives are hard, but they're very brave and loyal, and not dumb; in fact, their perspective on John's world (2100s Seattle) is very insightful.
“So many people living together,” she said, “but not fighting. You only learned to fight as a contest, for others to watch. There might be people among you who…who have never seen someone die…”
“Most don’t even know how to fight,” I said. “You’d think us all weak, Ealstan.”
“You misunderstand, Runian,” he said. “Killing is desperation, not strength. To live without killing…that is a strong society. If the reverse were true, my lands would not be withering away, like crops long without water…”
There's also Yazad, a cheerful monotheist from the Middle East who has come to Britain in search of adventure, and to spread the good word of...Zoroastrianism!
“Ah,” Yazad said. “You speak of Yeshuans? They are our cousins, you might say! Many mix us up. I’m surprised an aelv pays enough attention to mortals to know of our doings!”
“I…pay attention to some things,” I said. “Yeshua. He was crucified by the Romans?”
“Ha!” Yazad said. “They tried. But he was rescued by Ahura Mazda. We were one people for a short time, and together we fought as a coalition of all the lands of Abraham! But this was all many centuries ago, before the Hunas destroyed Rome entirely. You know the history of our region well for a fair creature of the north!”
“I find mortals interesting,” I told him.
“Excellent!” Yazad said. “Would you be willing to listen to me teach?”
I frowned. “You’d…try to convert an aelv?”
“I will try to convert anyone!” Yazad said. “Because all deserve to know of Ahura Mazda’s love.” Then he winked at me. “But an aelv would be a particular accomplishment, I think.”
This sort of character is a familiar trope for Sanderson fans, and again, I think he's very well-written here!
As the AU elements make clear, this is not quite our own world, but rather, a slightly divergent alternate dimension. That's where the story-within-a-story comes in; much like in the Stormlight Archive, the title of the book is shared with an in-universe book, in this case a mostly-useless "handbook"/marketing tome about the virtues of pocket dimensions that people from future-Earth can purchase and inhabit in order to become conquerors, introduce modern technology, or anything else. (Similarly to the way the not-quite-time-travel chuanyue elements play out in "The Snow of Jinyang"!)
At first, quoting from the in-universe Handbook is pretty amusing; for instance, when explaining how these dimensions are not really time travel:
As the AU elements make clear, this is not quite our own world, but rather, a slightly divergent alternate dimension. That's where the story-within-a-story comes in; much like in the Stormlight Archive, the title of the book is shared with an in-universe book, in this case a mostly-useless "handbook"/marketing tome about the virtues of pocket dimensions that people from future-Earth can purchase and inhabit in order to become conquerors, introduce modern technology, or anything else. (Similarly to the way the not-quite-time-travel chuanyue elements play out in "The Snow of Jinyang"!)
At first, quoting from the in-universe Handbook is pretty amusing; for instance, when explaining how these dimensions are not really time travel:
Still confused? Think of Nebraska. Nebraska is a landlocked state in the center of the United States of America. Because of its general lack of importance—and its distance from trendy population centers—it lags a few years behind the coasts in fashion, music, and distribution of collectible card games.
You might feel like you’ve time traveled when visiting Nebraska, but careful scientific experiments using synchronized timepieces have proven no time dilation is in effect. (See Luddow, Sing, and Coffman, “Nebraska really is just like that” in Journal of Relativistic Studies, Volume 57, June 2072.)
But as it goes on, the quoted excerpts get more and more handwavey/breaking-the-fourth wall.
Why Does Everyone in Britain Speak Modern English in My Pre-Norman-Conquest Dimension? Shouldn’t That Require an Incredible Alignment of Social and Linguistic Factors That Would Never in a Million Years Align in Such a Convenient Way?
Apparently not.
Wait. Did I Just Do a Colonialism?
What If I'm Still Worried about the Ethics of Essentially Colonizing the British Isles, Influencing the Course of History for an Entire People?
If you realize that this entire premise is fundamentally messed up, I kind of expect John to have to pay a cost for it somehow--either sacrificing himself, or at least, leaving behind the people and places he's come to love. Allowing him a relatively happy ending, while simultaneously thumbing your nose at the fourth wall feels like a cop-out.
There are some fantasy elements in play beyond John's SFish portals and augmentations; the Anglo-Saxons believe in the Norse pantheon, making offerings to friendly local wights or blood sacrifices to Wodin, and John comes to realize there's more to this than myth. (There's also a tantalizing offscreen subplot hinted at involving the "Waelish" who preceded the Anglo-Saxon arrivals, but despite my guesses and extrapolations about what was going on there, it didn't really turn out to be as prominent as I'd expected.) While the main plot tensions--John's struggle to be the best, bravest version of himself, the Anglo-Saxons' fight against the Hordamen, and the nefarious schemes of the bad guy who really wants this dimension for himself--have all been resolved by the last chapter, the epilogue drops tantalizing hints of a much greater multiverse beyond what we've seen so far. This can be appealing, but also frustrating, in a "classic Sanderson" way. (See: Mistborn original trilogy.)
I read the ebook version, which like I said, was a fast read. There are a lot of illustrations/marginalia (especially for the in-universe portions), done by Steve Argyle, which I think I'll be able to better appreciate when I get a hard copy.
Bingo: Multiverse/Alternate Realities for sure, and John has a lot of (attempts at) Mundane Jobs in his Earth life. "Frugal Wizard" probably counts for Title with a Title. The Myths/Retellings angle is only a small portion of the plot, so I probably wouldn't use it for that square, but you could make the case for it. I'm gonna say no Druids, sorry (Celts are clearly distinguished from Anglo-Saxons in the Handbook). [Edit to add: there is also a "published in 2023" square, which this obviously fits very well.]
There are some fantasy elements in play beyond John's SFish portals and augmentations; the Anglo-Saxons believe in the Norse pantheon, making offerings to friendly local wights or blood sacrifices to Wodin, and John comes to realize there's more to this than myth. (There's also a tantalizing offscreen subplot hinted at involving the "Waelish" who preceded the Anglo-Saxon arrivals, but despite my guesses and extrapolations about what was going on there, it didn't really turn out to be as prominent as I'd expected.) While the main plot tensions--John's struggle to be the best, bravest version of himself, the Anglo-Saxons' fight against the Hordamen, and the nefarious schemes of the bad guy who really wants this dimension for himself--have all been resolved by the last chapter, the epilogue drops tantalizing hints of a much greater multiverse beyond what we've seen so far. This can be appealing, but also frustrating, in a "classic Sanderson" way. (See: Mistborn original trilogy.)
I read the ebook version, which like I said, was a fast read. There are a lot of illustrations/marginalia (especially for the in-universe portions), done by Steve Argyle, which I think I'll be able to better appreciate when I get a hard copy.
Bingo: Multiverse/Alternate Realities for sure, and John has a lot of (attempts at) Mundane Jobs in his Earth life. "Frugal Wizard" probably counts for Title with a Title. The Myths/Retellings angle is only a small portion of the plot, so I probably wouldn't use it for that square, but you could make the case for it. I'm gonna say no Druids, sorry (Celts are clearly distinguished from Anglo-Saxons in the Handbook). [Edit to add: there is also a "published in 2023" square, which this obviously fits very well.]