MAGNUS CHASE AND THE GODS OF ASGARD: THE SWORD OF SUMMER, Rick Riordan

Is it just me, or does it seem like Norse mythology got really popular all of a sudden? Neil Gaiman’s American Gods is getting a miniseries (which in all fairness has only a couple Norse deities, no spoilers), Marvel is making its third Thor-centric film, and now Rick Riordan is throwing angsty teens at the mercy of Norns, Valkyries, dwarves and giants, not to mention the gods themselves. Now, this isn’t Riordan’s first mythology rodeo, as anyone who loves the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series can tell you. In fact, the Greek and Norse pantheons aren’t the only divine playgrounds he’s visited in his books. But what of the stories themselves? Is each new hero basically Percy Jackson with a different coat of paint? It may seem so with newcomer Magnus Chase, but the clever reimagining of the worlds of Yggdrasil and the characters joining Magnus in this adventure offer much to enjoy.

It would be easy but inaccurate to write off Magnus as a direct rehash of Percy Jackson. That said, there certainly are similar attitudes and themes carried over from Riordan’s modern-day Greek-gods series. Percy and the newly inducted Magnus are unaware of their divine heritage in the beginning of the first book, and likewise are ignorant of the identities of trusted friends who have known their true nature all along. Magnus’s whole family joins in, too, a bit of a change from the Jackson family, at least. For anyone familiar with PJATO, you’ll quickly find a recognizable face in Annabeth, Magnus’ cousin. She comes looking for him with her father on the brink of Magnus’ sixteenth birthday. Hints are dropped that the Chase family has a long-standing history with ancient deities, one that I’m not sure we’ve learned much about beyond Annabeth’s (spoilers) Olympian mother.

We’re also introduced to Uncle Randall, a prolific student of Viking culture who pressures Magnus into recovering an artifact called Sumarbrander—the titular Sword of Summer. Magnus is generally distrustful, yet while he suspects that his uncle has shady motives, he goes along with Randall to the Charles River, where the sword is trapped in a sunken Viking ship. Once Magnus gets his hands on the sword with newfound power, all hell breaks loose, which is par for the course in a Riordan demigod story.

If my memory of The Lightning Thief serves me well, Percy is never quite as snarky as Magnus. Just look over the chapter titles of this book—it’s like someone on Tumblr came up with just the chapter titles for a fantasy YA series. On their own they’re pretty funny. They reflect how Magnus can barely get through a scene without making at least five smart-ass remarks. After a while they come off as whiny more than witty, and they’re not terribly witty to begin with. On the plus side, the snark abates as Magnus’ more noble side surfaces in the face of a world-ending crisis. And I mean literally world-ending.

Then again, world-ending crises aren’t new to any story in the Riordan universe. Even Magnus’ heroic journey largely mirrors that of Percy Jackson: his mother is taken from him, he’s willing to risk his life to get her back, but in the end he’s faced with a choice between his personal desires and doing what’s best for the world—and the world is hanging in the balance. Oh, and they briefly reunite with their godly fathers. Having two similar male protagonists in series that share a universe feels a bit redundant. It also highlights the dearth of female characters driving such stories, if just for the sake of variety. Yes, Annabeth could be seen as a female counterpart, but she’s never the main hero, nor is her status as Athena’s daughter strongly tied to her storyline. For the most part, that “finding your missing parent” theme is reserved for the boys.

Riordan does kind of amend this with Samirah Al-Abbas, Magnus’ Valkyrie helper. She shares a lot in common with Annabeth, but her conflict diverges from that of most characters: she is Loki’s daughter. This causes problems for her with other Norse-born heroes and Magnus himself. As the story unfolds, though, Magnus and Sam’s trials help them come to a better understanding, even a friendship. With that kind of character development complemented by creative world-building, you’ll get engaged in the story regardless how similar or different Magnus and Percy are. But for those looking for more originality, they might be disappointed.

I can offer some more reasons to try this book. For one, Riordan takes advantage of the popularity of Marvel’s movies, focusing on the portrayals of Thor and Loki. Thor of Magnus’s world is a ruder, cruder version, yet still retains a sense of honor and humor. Chris Hemsworth’s physical appearance as the god of thunder is closer to Riordan’s Frey. His Loki may play a bit into Tom Hiddleston’s swoon-worthy visage, but he also ties in long-held traditions about the trickster (hints of red in his hair due to his inconsistent association with fire, pierced lips from having them sewn shut after losing a bet, and acid burns from the viper above his head as he suffers for Baldur’s murder).

There’s still much that isn’t so well known about Norse myth in the modern Western world, so Riordan brings in those elements and even updates them to the technology age, using Magnus as the stand-in for any confused readers. Again, this harkens back to how Percy has some understanding of Greek myth, but there are many things steeped in its lore that have to explained. In Magnus’ case, Norse being not as commonly known in American culture allows his ignorance to justify info-dumping. I also like the intriguing tie-ins to not only the Chase family’s relationship with multiple pantheons, but between widely different cultures, like Norse and Arabic. These connections acknowledge that ancient cultures were not isolated. You don’t have to be Scandinavian to have connections to Norse culture, since the Vikings were travelers and notorious invaders. It’s a good way to keep building Riordan’s world and realistically reflect how real-world cultures influence each other.

The strongest points in Gods of Asgard’s favor is the supporting cast. Along with Samirah and a rotating ensemble of hilariously flawed gods, we have Hearthstone and Blitz, Magnus’ elf and dwarf friends who have their own journeys in this book. They highlight a running theme of how important it is to be true to yourself and your gifts, even if doing so makes you an outcast. My favorite part was watching the camaraderie develop among Magnus and his friends—it emphasizes how anyone can find a family beyond the one you’re born into, which is important for a grieving Magnus, a conflicted Samira, and a ridiculed Hearth and Blitz. These elements offer much promise for the next book in this series.

Rating: 3.5/5