Brute the Brewmaster
The titular hero of Michael Paul Johnson's cozy swords-and-sorcery novel Brute the Brewmaster is a big lug with a heart of gold. Magically enhanced with super-strength to help King Colhart defend Rivinia's independence against the UnderRealm empire, Brutus Tornatore loses the will to fight after his best friend, a mage, is killed. The kindly king allows him to retire, whereupon Brute settles down in a small village to fulfill his late friend's dream of opening a pub, with help from a potion witch with whom he strikes up a romance. However, the magical brewing spell requires him to hang up his sword for good. How can he protect his new community in wartime while keeping his vow of nonviolence?
In a marketplace of ponderous and grimdark fantasy epics, this fast-paced book charmed me because it didn't take itself too seriously. Brute has a straightforward, some might say predictable, story structure and a lightly sketched-in medieval fantasy setting. If you read Redwall and wished you could join the monastic mice at their sumptuous vegetarian feasts, you will enjoy the beer-brewing scenes here as much as I did. Brute's innocent, gawky courtship of his love interest is adorable. In this alt-medieval Europe, the side characters' lesbian romance is as normal and unremarked as Bruce and Azalea's coupledom.
Beneath the simple, sweet exterior, there is a serious question about the virtues and limits of pacifism. I was reminded of Kenny Rogers' country song "Coward of the County," which played frequently on the radio when I was growing up. Without spoiling the ending, I will say I was happy with how Brute and his friends found a third way around their dilemma.
The writing style was rather simplistic. For the most part, it was a win that the book didn't get bogged down in worldbuilding info-dump, but I would have liked to understand a little more about the rules of magic in the OverWorld and UnderRealm and the background of their war.
The typeface was hard to read because the vertical strokes were very thin and the ink was faint. The front cover, an eye-catching red with a pulp-fiction painting of a heavily muscled barbarian swordsman, did a good job conveying the book's genre and mood. However, the very small white type on the red back cover was nearly unreadable.
Brute the Brewmaster is a feel-good read that shows a clear understanding of its target audience. It was a real bright spot for me in the contest judging this year.
Read an excerpt from Brute the Brewmaster (PDF)
Buy this book on Amazon.

