The Rithmatist – Chalk It Up

Lesser-known indie author Brandon Sanderson is a Quill To Live favorite, and you should hop on the bandwagon before he gets big, folks! I’ve long praised Sanderson’s Cosmere and other works—today, I’m reviewing one of the latter. The Rithmatist is a standalone novel (with a promised but yet-to-be-seen sequel) with many of Sanderson’s storytelling stamps. 

Joel Saxon attends Armedius Academy as a non-Rithmatist. The school teaches all sorts of classes, including the usual reading, writing, and math. It also hosts a clique of Rithmatists, those lucky few who can bring chalk drawings to life. While Joel can’t use Rithmatics, he loves to study the magic and understand how it works. During his time as a message runner for Armedius staff, he often sneaks into Rithmatic classes to glean knowledge of the art. When a new teacher arrives and dethrones a tenured professor in a Rithmatic duel, strange things start happening at Armedius. Rithmatists—especially children of elite members of society—start to disappear, and panic erupts on campus. Joel teams up with the disgraced Professor Fitch and quirky pupil Melody Muns to unravel the mysteries plaguing Armedius. 

I have a hunch that any Sanderson fan will immediately feel at home nestled between The Rhithmatist’s pages. It opens with a harrowing scene and a dangling carrot. I was happy to be the donkey pursuing that carrot throughout the book’s run. Sanderson explores the implications and utility of his magic system while giving us an interesting perspective for a main character. Joel can’t use Rithmatics, even though he is well-read on the topic. He has to find ways to succeed in a world that reveres magic-users and shunts non-Rithmatists to the background. 

The Rithmatist’s plot was a mixed bag for me. The Sanderlanche is in full effect near the end, but the book takes its sweet time unfolding into a larger tapestry. Normally, I don’t mind a slow build. In fact, I usually relish it. Here, much of the first half feels like a slice of life I’ve read before. Joel is a talented student with a lack of ambition. He isn’t interested in ho-hum math, history, etc. He wants to study Rithmatics, but the world and its pesky rules won’t let him. We spend a large portion of the book getting to know Joel, which is fine. He exists in an interesting place and has a magnetic backstory. His father was a chalkmaker who passed away eight years ago, and his mother works as a janitor at Armedius. He exists as a have-not among the elite students, Rithmatic or otherwise. 

The wider world is hard for Joel (and, by extension, the reader) to grasp. Life on the United Isles can be tense and dangerous. The isle of Nebrask is always in the back of his mind—wild Chalklings spout from a tower there, where Rithmatists work to keep them at bay. Hints of the world beyond Armedius bleed through its borders, but the book feels focused on this singular location. Spending so much time on it feels unnecessary when the plot doesn’t spring to life like so many other Sanderson stories. 

The characters of The Rithmatist are delightful at best and slightly one-dimensional at worst. The latter isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The book is geared toward younger audiences, and Joel is 16 during its events. Sanderson gives Joel, Melody, and Professor Fitch plenty of depth, while many of the side characters have a few distinguishing traits. Florence and Mr. Layton—two school office employees Joel is friendly with—stand out as non-memorable examples. From an author known for his character work—even when they have relatively little page time and limited roles in the story—these supporting cast members are disappointing. 

The real star of the show is the magic. Rithmatism is mysterious and cool. Rithmatists can duel, and there are specific offensive and defensive strategies that work well against each other. These are illustrated and annotated in the book, breathing life into the system. Its utility is an interesting sticking point for me. While Rithmatists can battle with their Chalklings, there aren’t many applications in the real world beyond defending Nebrask and the wider world from Wild Chalklings. That is, until some mysterious Rithmatic techniques start to surface. I expect Sanderson would expand on these concepts in the long-promised but not-yet-available sequel. 

As a rare Sanderson standalone (again, no sequel yet), The Rithmatist proves an engaging read. It culminates in a really cool ending sequence and promises many more mysteries to come. It’s certainly not my favorite Sanderson, but it’s not my least favorite either. Chalk it up as a worthy read for fantasy fans. 

Rating: The Rithmatist – 7.5/10

-Cole