The Story of Owen: Dragon Slayer of Trondheim by E. K. Johnston

What if dragons and their insatiable hunger for fossil fuels had shaped the whole of human history? If the poison released when one killed a dragon improperly (whether on purpose to contaminate an area or by accident because you don’t know what the heck you are doing) could create deserts that last thousands of years? If Buddy Holly’s plane went down because of a hungry dragon? It’s a cool concept, and it is one that Johnston explores with an impeccable eye for detail and great wit.

The book sets the story in a rural Canadian town, a far cry from usual slayer territory, since the prevalence of fossil fuels in cities means that major businesses snap up them all up to keep their employees and buildings safe. Owen, a dragon slayer in training, and Siobhan, our intrepid narrator, have little sense that their chance meeting on the first day of grade eleven in that small town’s school will lead to an epic friendship and an opportunity to change the dragon-slaying culture at large. Siobhan is a gifted musician, and she is quickly talked into being Owen’s bard by his insistent aunts, one a retired dragon slayer herself. There is an urgent need for dragon slayers, as the creatures seem to be reproducing at a faster rate than they can be culled, and some good PR (provided by Siobhan, of course) can only help reinforce the need for citizens to be informed, responsible, and active in doing their parts to stay alive.

Siobhan approaches the changes in her life with the snark one would expect of a smart teen, but through her burgeoning friendship (and professional alliance) with Owen, she is also a sympathetic outside voice to describe the private lives of dragon slayers and the loneliness and dangers they endure to keep the world safe. If Owen ends up being a bit of a straight man to Siobhan’s sardonic commentary, dramatic observations, and musical flair, they both emerge as memorable protagonists, bound together by a refreshingly romance-free enduring friendship, and by the sacrifices each ultimately makes in the name of community.

The book offers a clever modernization of the embellished epic tales bards would have once told, making it readily apparent that they are still urgently needed even in an increasingly jaded world where folks are (recklessly) videotaping battles on their smartphones and where corporations buy up as many of the heroes as they can. Johnson wisely sidesteps dramatic environmental or political statements: Owen’s lesbian aunt and her partner are just part of the family, the necessity of carbon is a normal aspect of life with the accompanying need for dragon slayers inevitable and unquestioned, and the idiocy of humans and their apparent need to see danger firsthand rather than hide in the readily available shelters are handled with irony rather than any real outrage. The result is an excellent story, an adventure that celebrates flawed but genuinely heroic individuals and also seamlessly integrates some sharp points that will likely linger with the reader. What more could one ask of a book celebrating the bardic tradition? (See p. 410 for publication information.)