Sword-and-sorcery is a subgenre of fantasy with broad shoulders, covering a lot of territory. It has to have action, but the protagonists can range from big dumb heroes to sneak thieves to philosophers — at least the types of philosophers who can wield weapons. Hanlin, the main character of Sometime Lofty Towers by David C. Smith, is a military veteran who is angry at the world and broods a lot, but he’s far from the only deep thinker around. His former fellow soldier Thorem talks about how he feels most free when he’s fighting, Mother Grunda talks about the ills of civilization, servant Wilm talks about the nature of memories and the past, and the kirangee westlings base their culture on connection with nature and the world. The book isn’t all talk, of course. It opens with Thorem trying to recruit Hanlin into a new campaign that the “civilized” cityfolk are planning, to push the frontier farther into the territory held by the indigenous “westlings” who had been partially defeated in the last war. Hanlin isn’t interested, and in fact has been planning to move back to the northern wilds whence he came. Furthermore, after that previous war, he had spent time with the westlings (or rather, as they call themselves, kirangee), and come to respect them and their ways. However, a message about an old personal antagonist lures him into meeting with the noblewoman who’s organizing this new drive, and that propels him into the events that make up most of this book. Former watchtowers built in the frontier territory by the “civilized” invaders do come into play during the clash between them and the inhabitants. However, the book’s front matter says the phrase “sometime lofty towers” (meaning once or formerly high towers, not towers whose height varies up and down) from the title is taken from Shakespeare’s sonnet 64, which is about inevitable losses to time and decay, which certainly fits with some of the themes here. In some ways, this book reminds me of the great story by Robert E. Howard, “Beyond the Black River.” That starts off from the viewpoint of Balthus, an Aquilonian settler on the frontier, where Picts are trying to reclaim their former land (by taking a fort and slaughtering the settlers), with the aid of sorcery that calls on an old god. It ends with Conan, a Cimmerian from the north temporarily working with/for the Aquilonians, who muses, “Barbarism is the natural state of mankind. Civilization is unnatural; it is a whim of circumstance… And barbarism must always ultimately triumph!” In Smith’s book, it’s the wealthy city people who act barbarically, taking land by force of arms from people whom they call “animals” — the city folk say the westling’s speech makes no sense to “human beings” (which reminds me of Ann Leckie’s Radch civilization). The city folk abuse the surviving westlings, killing them on whims and even using their skins as leather, with hints in the text of even worse happenings. The kirangee think that the city people are bringing curses upon themselves by the sick nature of their society that has broken with nature. The kirangee build communities, not great cities, and respect is given to women and elders; they try to live in harmony with nature, but when that harmony is broken, they use nature magic which includes a form of necromancy to fight back. Rest assured, there is some vivid (if brief) fighting even near the beginning of this book, and there are physical and verbal conflicts throughout, but it builds toward a climax of sustained action, usually striking, even graphic, but occasionally dreamy or nightmarish as magic comes into play, and as current happenings revive memories of old battles. Hanlin has some flashbacks as events proceed, but he also keeps thinking of various things people have said to him as he mulls his course of action. Some readers may find this slightly repetitive, but it totally makes sense for Hanlin, broody and on certain topics (such as revenge) even obsessive. Smith’s prose and dialogue are certainly interesting enough to make it worth the occasional revisit, with some really great lines now and then that made me grin. I also like the various language usages that make it clear we’re in a slightly different culture without making things confusing – “thentime,” swords being worn “byside” or “overshoulder,” “meal” as a verb, etc. Additionally, various passages use some eerie and impactful metaphors. I was slightly jarred by a minor inconsistency in the eARC about where an offscreen event had taken place that was highly impactful to one of Hanlin’s companions; it pulled me out of the narrative as I went back and forth to try to figure out the actual site. However, although it matters to that character’s backstory, it doesn’t really affect the plot, and maybe it’ll be fixed by the time the book is published. Some of the side characters have interesting arcs of their own, in addition to Hanlin’s arc as he searches for internal peace. There’s Thorem, who is happy making money by serving the invaders at first but who is forced by events to think about what he’s doing; there’s a female fighter whose circumstances lead her to think about who deserves her efforts; and there’s a very aggressive young kirangee warrior who ends up learning a lot about trust and goals. I can’t say that they surprised me a lot, but I enjoyed watching how they were developed. Overall, I quite enjoyed Sometime Lofty Towers. The protagonist and other characters are interesting (although not so much for the antagonists), the writing is good, the action is vivid, and the philosophical explorations of the nature of civilization, time, memories, and connections are enjoyable. I look forward to seeing more from Smith. A final note: Readers, don’t skip the Interview at the end, which centers for a time on the death of the author’s father. Rarely have I felt such strong sympathetic rage due