Han Solo’s backstory is recounted in Crispin’s trilogy, starting with Han’s early years as an abandoned street urchin to fulfiling his dream of joining the Imperial Navy.
As you might expect, the story is good, straightforward adventure fiction. While Han’s character is well drawn, particularly the trauma of his early life, there’s relatively little character development through the novel – he’s recognisably Han Solo throughout, more revealed than shaped by his circumstances. Secondary characters are thinly portrayed, including Han’s passive love interest who spends the novel drugged and deprived of agency. Aliens abound, and while there’s clearly a lot of effort invested in their distinctive physiologies and languages, they come across as humans-in-suits in their behaviours rather than truly alien.
The tone is remarkably grim for Star Wars with a fair amount of violence and death. Solo doesn’t have a great early life, and the bulk of the narrative is a story of slavery and institutional exploitation. This realism elevates what could have been a forgettable adventure story into a decent bildungsroman, explaining the roots of Han’s adult cynicism. However, the love story feels YA and lacks the depth and motivation to make it believable. As bedtime reading, it’s serviceable, page-turning light entertainment, but I didn’t find anything in my first foray into the written universe to draw me deeper into the Star Wars canon.
