Product Description

Fifteen-year-old Eragon believes that he is merely a poor farm boy—until his destiny as a Dragon Rider is revealed. Gifted with only an ancient sword, a loyal dragon, and sage advice from an old storyteller, Eragon is soon swept into a dangerous tapestry of magic, glory, and power. Now his choices could save—or destroy—the Empire.

“An authentic work of great talent.”—The New York Times Book Review

“Christopher Paolini make[s] literary magic with his precocious debut.”—People

“Unusual, powerful, fresh, and fluid.”—Booklist, Starred

“An auspicious beginning to both career and series.”—Publishers Weekly

A New York Times Bestseller

A USA Today Bestseller

A Wall Street Journal Bestseller

A Book Sense Bestseller


From the Hardcover edition.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #945104 in Books
• Published on: 2006-10-24
• Released on: 2006-10-24
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 528 pages

Amazon.com Review
Here's a great big fantasy that you can pull over your head like a comfy old sweater and disappear into for a whole weekend. Christopher Paolini began Eragon when he was just 15, and the book shows the influence of Tolkien, of course, but also Terry Brooks, Anne McCaffrey, and perhaps even Wagner in its traditional quest structure and the generally agreed-upon nature of dwarves, elves, dragons, and heroic warfare with magic swords.

Eragon, a young farm boy, finds a marvelous blue stone in a mystical mountain place. Before he can trade it for food to get his family through the hard winter, it hatches a beautiful sapphire-blue dragon, a race thought to be extinct. Eragon bonds with the dragon, and when his family is killed by the marauding Ra'zac, he discovers that he is the last of the Dragon Riders, fated to play a decisive part in the coming war between the human but hidden Varden, dwarves, elves, the diabolical Shades and their neanderthal Urgalls, all pitted against and allied with each other and the evil King Galbatorix. Eragon and his dragon Saphira set out to find their role, growing in magic power and understanding of the complex political situation as they endure perilous travels and sudden battles, dire wounds, capture and escape.

In spite of the engrossing action, this is not a book for the casual fantasy reader. There are 65 names of people, horses, and dragons to be remembered and lots of pseudo-Celtic places, magic words, and phrases in the Ancient Language as well as the speech of the dwarfs and the Urgalls. But the maps and glossaries help, and by the end, readers will be utterly dedicated and eager for the next book, Eldest. (Ages 10 to 14) --Patty Campbell

From Publishers Weekly
While exploring the forest, 15-year-old Eragon discovers an odd blue gemstone—a dragon egg, fated to hatch in his care. According to PW, "The author takes the near-archetypes of fantasy fiction and makes them fresh and enjoyable, chiefly through a crisp narrative and a likable hero." Ages 12-up. (Apr.)
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From School Library Journal
Grade 5 Up-Eragon, 15, is hunting for wild game when he witnesses a mysterious explosion. At the center of the blast radius he finds a polished blue stone marked with white veins. Brom, the village storyteller, has shown interest in it, so it is to him that Eragon turns when it starts squeaking, then wobbling, and then hatches into a majestic sapphire blue dragon. His decision to keep and raise Saphira starts him on an epic journey of Tolkienesque proportions that is only partially told in the 500 pages of this book. Eragon learns that the Empire's cruel and oppressive king will stop at nothing to get Eragon and Saphira to serve him. Training and traveling with Brom, the teen and dragon learn to work together in war and peace, using a combination of traditional fighting arts and magic. They encounter massive humanoid warriors with savage intentions and are befriended by Murtagh, a human warrior with mysterious ties to the Varden and the Empire. Eventually, they seek refuge with dwarves who harbor the Varden, who exist to free the Empire. Eragon does not approach the depth, uniqueness, or mastery of J. R. R. Tolkien's works, and sometimes the magic solutions are just too convenient for getting out of difficult situations. However, the empathetic characters and interesting plot twists will appeal to the legions of readers who have been captivated by the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy and are looking for more books like it.
Susan L. Rogers, Chestnut Hill Academy, PA
Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Customer Reviews

belongs in the category of fan fiction
Eragon belongs in the category of fan fiction. No wonder reviewers are dazzled: so many fantastic events and wonderful ideas in one book. Tne only problem is that the events and ideas come from other authors. Christopher Paolini has systematically raided great fantasy writers, pilfering their ideas right and left, right down to the names he gives places and characters (though sometimes he changes a couple of letters). If you don't believe me, read Anne McCaffrey's DRAGONRIDERS OF PERN, Robert Jordan's EYE OF THE WORLD, and JRR Tolkien's LORD OF THE RINGS. The so-called professional critics who have given this book the nod should be ashamed. If they bothered to educate themselves about the fantasy genre, they'd recant the glowing praise they've given this book and bestow it on the ones who actually deserve it--the authors I've mentioned. This book has a beautiful cover, but what's inside is cheap imitation. Christopher Paolini may be excused due to his youth, but if he's intelligent enough to assemble such a long piece of fan fiction, presumably he can grasp the concept of stealing.

Laughably bad
Ah, Eragon. The book I love to make fun of. After reading this book and dismissing it as a terribly written, if amusing, book, you can understand my puzzlement at the number of devoted fans there are. And now with the next book coming out, I fear that more people will fall into the same trap of "Ooh, shiny dragon cover!" After that, they have no chance.

So, you might ask, what's so bad about Eragon? And why am I being so hard on the author, when he was only fifteen? Doesn't he deserve a little credit?

Paolini does deserve credit, but not for what most people give him. He has clearly read an impressive number of classic fantasy novels. What is not so impressive is how he blatantly rips off every one of them.

Yes, the stereotypical images of elves, orcs, and dwarves are a part of the fantasy genre. And I'm not saying, for example, that McCaffrey invented Dragons. But Paolini uses ALL the mechanics of her dragons in his book-- down to the smallest details like how potential riders stand in front of the dragon eggs, how the dragon chooses its own rider and name, the trauma associated with losing one's dragon, telepathic communication, everything. Try as I might, I could not find a single original idea that Paolini invented himself. And it's not like I've read every fantasy book in existance-- I'm only sixteen. But when I was reading Eragon, I recognized every idea and concept immediately. People having True Names and a language in which you can't lie? Wow, that sounds just like LeGuin's "A Wizard of Earthsea!" And I've heard people praise the originality of Paolini's werecat-- a talking cat that sometimes transforms into a boy. Well, it's odd, then, that I read about one of those just the other day in Garth Nix's "Sabriel." I'm not saying that he intentionally copied all these ideas (though, his characters would undoubtedly be more interesting and multi-dimensional if he had), or that these authors were the first to ever think of them. It's just that I've seen it all done before, by better writers, in my opinion, and Paolini didn't bother to change or add to it in any way. So, while it is a bit impressive for one of Paolini's age to have such a knowledge of fantasy concepts, any fifteen-year-old with half a brain could have stuck them all together and put their name on it.

And actually, he didn't even do a good job at that. The plot itself can be summarized by "Star Wars plus damsel in distress plus many, many inconsistencies." One example of the plot just not making sense happens about three-fifths of the way through the book. Arya is slowly dying of slow-acting poison and they need to get her to the Varden as soon as possible. Eragon suggests that he and Arya fly there on Saphira, thus getting there much faster than they would be able to on horseback. The only problem would be they'd have to leave Murtagh behind. But then-- get this-- Murtagh throws a tantrum because he doesn't want to go to the Varden. How does that make sense at ALL!? It completely ruined the whole "exciting chase scene" because the entire time they were slowly riding there I was thinking, "Why is Murtagh still with you!? Just fly there, already!" And, indeed, Murtagh complains the entire time because he wants to leave. Paolini gives no reason for him not to-- he simply doesn't, because it would ruin the big chase scene. Awful. Then when they finally get there, Paolini conveniently forgets about his ancient language (you can't lie, remember?) and makes a huge deal about how the Varden don't trust Murtagh and how he has to get his mind probed.

All the other plot elements and events are similarly contrived. When they have to cross an enormous expanse of desert, for example, Eragon makes a big fuss about how they can only carry enough water to last them one day, and it will take them two days to cross. This didn't make sense to me because they'd never had this problem with carrying water before. Paolini just creates a conflict where there logically should be none so Eragon can cleverly solve it with magic. And yet in other cases, when faced with a real problem, he solves it with unrealistic ease. In one scene, Eragon and Murtagh must break out of jail. Eragon spends more than a day trying find a way out of his cell. He finally manages it with magic. And the very second he breaks free, there's Murtagh, who conveniently happened to get out at the exact same second, without using magic, in time to shoot the guards! Whenever Eragon gets into any real trouble, he is conveniently knocked unconscious and the problem is solved for him by the time he wakes up. I just wish it worked like that in real life-- then I could have simply knocked myself out cold instead of having to finish reading the book.

Even with all these badly written scenes to choose from, there is one that really stands above the rest. The battle at the end of the book has got to be the absolute worst "big climactic battle scene" I have ever read. Paolini describes many Urgals (his version of orcs) dying. He describes Eragon and Saphira flying around blasting stuff. But not once does he describe-- or even mention-- anyone on the "good side" dying. You assume that everything is going well for them. But then halfway through he tells us that the battle is "going badly," and afterward, that "there were many casualties." Huh? Because of this, the scene was lacking any sense of excitement or concern for the heroes that it should have had.

Still, I might have been able to forgive most of these flaws, or at least gotten some small enjoyment out of the book, if it had other redeeming qualities. But here, too, Eragon fails in every respect. The characters are flat and lack realistic personalities. The only character who gets more than a line or two is Arya, the elf princess, and she is (of course) the embodiment of perfection. Paolini surrounds every mention of her with description of how shiny, perfect, and beautiful she is. After about the fifth description of how her eyebrows slant, it becomes quite irritating. All the characters speak in the exact same way, from uneducated farm boy Eragon, who can't even read, to old scholarly Brom. And don't even get me started on his "creative elven language." Taking a bunch of english, latin and greek words, adding extra consonants and accent marks and putting an "R" or "A" at the end of each one is not the same thing as creating a language. Example: "knife" becomes "knífr." "Their" becomes "theirra." And no, I don't expect him to be able to create a realistic language at the age of fifteen, but he seems to be given credit for having done so.

If you must read this book, read it for what it is-- something that should be parodied rather than taken seriously. This way, when you come across things like fifteen-year-old Eragon wielding a five-foot-long sword with ease and then storing it away in his pack, you will be as amused by it as I was. In that way, this book is priceless.

A Hero From Another Place
"Look" Amar cried, pointing over the sweep of fields at the figure that was approaching. It moved swiftly, coming towards Amar, Atirav and Aparjita. It looked indigo, at this distance, with the sunlight shafting off its back.

Aparijita squinted against the light, trying to discern what it might be. "It looks like Gandalf the Grey to me," she muttered, squinting harder.

Atirav, smirking, said, "This is Alagaisia, Aparajita. Not Middle Earth"

Aparajita shook her head, not taking her eyes off the figure. "I'm telling you, it looks exactly like him!"

Just then, the man came up before them. He carried a sweeping staff in his right hand, and in his other, he held a sword whose sides came together to form a graceful point.
"I am Gandalf The Grey," He proclaimed, blowing smoke rings from his mouth. "I was plucked from Middle Earth and sent here instead, and I was bequeathed with an ugly name, "Brom" and here I must remain until I serve penance for a wrong that I haven't even done..."

Amar, wide eyed, stepped back from the apparition. "But then...why were you brought here? And why "Brom"? That's the worst name or a Wizard I've ever heard."

"Dragon Rider, not Wizard." Gandalf snapped. "Brom was born a Dragon Rider. I expect to see my companions, the Dragon Riders of Pern, coming in very soon. The Riders here are very similar to those of Pern, mind you... And as for the name, it is part of the torture. To be called `Brom' as if I were a type of broomstick. Gandalf the Grey to Brom. It is the ultimate humiliation."
It was clear that he was having difficulty hiding the contempt in his voice. He sighed sadly, closing his eyes.
"But alas, if it had only been me who was brought here. But no! The others have also been brought here! Arwen is somewhere deep in this land, in a dungeon, suffering terrible punishment. Her name has been changed to Arya, in a poor attempt to hide her identity. She needs my help, but I cannot find her. And Arragorn, Ranger of the North, The very King to sit once again on the Throne of Gondor! He too, is here. But in the form of a boy, but with a similar name: Eragon. It seems that he was snatched from Middle Earth to help defeat an unstoppable evil."

Gandalf had a look of utter fear, now. "I fear there is more. The Elves have also been transported here. Galadriel is the Elf Queen here as well! And the Dwarves. I think I saw Gimli, though now his name has been changed. He is Orik, the Dwarf King."

Gandalf's eyes filled with tears as he looked away into the bloody sunset. "I thought our tasks were completed in Middle Earth, that after the destruction of the One Ring and Sauron, we could rest in Peace..."

Amar, shocked, asked, "It can't be that bad."

Gandalf, because there was nothing else for him to do, blew out a series of smoke rings that darted around his head, changing colour, in an attempt to look impressive. He then set about making tea for two with a wave of his staff. But noticing there were four people, and that he didn't have the appropriate magic for the task, Gandalf stopped, quickly. Hoping no one had noticed his pathetic magic, Gandalf sheepishly answered Amar's question.
"It gets worse," he said, ominously, "Middle Earth itself seems to have appeared here. Look around you! I half expect to see a hobbit pop up from the ground! Much is changed, but if you pay close attention to the names, you will notice the similarity! The Kingdom of Elves, of Dwarves, of Men, it is all here."

Gandalf stifled a cry. "In this world, the Elves even came from across the sea in Silver Ships. It makes me home sick to see such utter similarities between Middle Earth and Alageasia."

Atirav, still incredulous, said, "But there has to be some reason as to why you guys were brought here, right?"

Gangalf nodded. "The Flame of Udun burns deep and dark. A great thief lurks in the shadows, one of great power. He has recreated Middle Earth itself, and has named it Alageasia, and has stolen all Heroes and cast them here."

For thxe first time, his ancient eyes were overcome with terror. "I fear this thief has managed to create Sauron once again. But this time, with an obscene, mechanical name, `Galbatorix.'"

A sound caught Aparajita's ears. She turned south, looking at the trees. She screamed in sudden fear. "Look! Orcs!"

Gandalf whirled around, facing the threat. "Not Orcs, but Urgals! The orcs too, have been brought here, because there were no other evil forces available."

Atirav's face turned white as he saw the beasts coming towards them. "Use your magic and kill them you old fool!"

Gandalf shook his head with grief. "In this world, the old are weak. Someone tried to bring in some originality into this world, and look how it failed. Where in all other worlds the old are powerful and mighty, in this world, it is only the young who have any power. A failed attempt at creativity."

He muttered under his breath, "This generation, I tell you..."

Gandalf suddenly turned to face Amar. "You, farmboy! I will now make you a swordmaster in less than five pages, even though you know not the first thing of how to wield a Blade. But in this world, much is possible. You will soon be the greatest Swordmaster in all of Alageasia! Just like Eragon! And then you can protect us!"

Amar beamed at the grand offer, already seeing himself ascend the pinnacle of glory. "I'll do it!" He said.

Gandalf scratched his beard. "But wait! There is only one great sword remaining, and that is with Eragon himself."

Amar sighed disappointedly. He should have known.

But Gandalf smiled brightly. "Not to worry. Eragon has a way of showing up exactly at the right moment, because he is a great Hero, also a farmboy. He learned everything in a very short period of time, and now, the Fate of the Empire rests in his hands. He has very little chance of victory, but I know he can do it. Hasn't every other Hero of every other world done it as well?"

Atirav frowned skeptically. "Sounds a little like Frodo to me."

Gandalf hit him across the face with his staff. "Silence!"

Atirav looked down, abashed "Sorry," He apologized.

Gandalf, casting him a disgusted look, continued. "Eragon is beyond all temptation. There has never been a dark thought in his mind. He uses his powers only for good, and he never kills unless he has to, but when he does, he does so with great zeal. Eragon is the quintessential Hero of all time, and his character is so thin, he's a lot like cardboard. He'll get blown in any moment now, and he'll protect us against all odds. He'll kill them all with the righteousness in his intense brown eyes!"

Amar, Atirav and Aparjita exchanged knowing glances, thinking, 'this man is crazy'

The Urgals were nearby. There were hundreds of them, all running on bowed legs. Gandalf went in front, holding out his staff. The three friends crowded together behind him, fearing their doom coming upon them.

Gandalf leaned back, "Can you feel their evil?"

Amar said, quite simply, "No."

Gandalf nodded. "Neither can I. But everyone's talking about how evil and monstrous they are, so they must be. I heard they invaded a village and speared the white body of a baby."

Aparajita screamed at the thought of such a terrible thing. Atirav turned to her in concern. "Are you alight?"

Aparajita nodded, hiding tears. The Urgals spearing baby, it's just so..."

"Tacky?" Amar volunteered.

Aparijita nodded. "Exactly. It hurts the senses."

Atirav looked out, face twisting in dread. "The Urgals are here."

Gandalf looked back at them, slightly shamefaced. "Oops.I forgot to tell you, Eragon is in Tronjheim, the Kingdom of the dwarves. It's underground, just like Moria, and very fantastic, again, just like Moria. I suspect it might be that Moria has also been brought here. Basically, his cardboard character can't fly out of a mountain and come to our rescue."

Amar turned on Gandalf, red with rage at this foolishness. "Then how do we defend ourselves against this evil?" he shouted.

Gandlaf shrugged. "Good question. We will have to manage with our hands, since my staff and sword are actually stolen from another world, and hence are useless. In fact..."

Gandalf slapped a hand to his forehead. " I'm supposed to be in a cheap diamond coffin right now, where I cannot be touched by the ravages of time, where I'll stay perfectly preserved for the rest of eternity. I forgot that Brom had been killed! I have to go, I'm sorry."

Gandalf sighed, "Please don't be angry at me for letting you die in this harsh world. I suppose it would have been more prestigious if you had been killed in the real Middle Earth. But hope always remains. It seems that the flow of events in this world is also very similar to Middle Earth. If this is true, than I will return, much like I did as Gandalf the White in Middle Earth."

The Urgals were coming closer. Atirav closed his eyes and murmured a prayer.

Gandalf looked at them. "I must go. But I promise you, I'm sure I'll be back in ELDEST, the next chapter of this horrific punishment of the Heroes of Middle Earth."

He waved his staff, and vanished in a puff of coloured smoke rings, leaving the three friends to defend themselves.

"As*hole," Amar and Atirav said together. Aparajita looked at them. "Why didn't we just buy Lord the Rings," She asked.

The three of them began running into the fields, hoping to outrun the Urgals.