What makes Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith such an enthralling read isn’t so much the story, but the manner in which it’s told. Make no mistake, whether it’s on the silver screen or on the printed page, Revenge of the Sith is amongst the most alluring Star Wars stories ever told, but those purchasing this book are almost certainly going to have seen the movie, and as such their interest is going to be in what new insights it offers, and whether it can move its reader in the same way that the movie does its viewers. Stover therefore seeks to exploit the power of his medium to the full, on occasion even stripping away any semblance of literary artifice and beginning passages with clear sentences such as “This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker right now…”, before exploring those feelings with consummate finesse. This approach brings the tragic theme of the story into sharp focus as, point by point, we witness Anakin’s mind frantically weighing his passions against his duties and the pressures being placed upon him, and then making the only decisions that his personality will allow him to; decisions that will cost him his soul, and ultimately shroud the whole galaxy in darkness.
This framework also allows Stover to lift the veil on various supporting players, whose motives and feelings were masked on screen by what some would argue was a two dimensional façade. Count Dooku, for instance, is a case in point – unless you’ve bothered to read novels such as the preceding Labyrinth of Evil (which explores how much Dooku knows about the double life of his master, Darth Sidious) he can appear ridiculously naïve; even weak-minded. The Revenge of the Sith novelisation, however, expounds upon not only Dooku’s level of knowledge about his master’s double dealings, but his misguidedly upright motives too. He isn’t going into his duel with Anakin and Obi-Wan arrogantly expecting to defeat them both as one would infer from the film - he is going into it intent on forging the young Skywalker into the weapon that his master needs to end the destructive Clone Wars and bring order to galaxy. He just wasn’t banking on getting his head and hands chopped off in the process.
Sidious also benefits from the book’s deeper insight. Stover crafts entirely new scenes for the Sith Lord that peer into the meticulous preparations necessary to execute his plan for galactic domination - in one exquisite passage he bates Anakin’s hunger with the temptation of power and riches, while in another he prepares to frame three approaching Jedi for treason only moments before beheading the first of them. Best of all though, Stover is able to convey the sheer power of Sidious, both corporeal and cerebral - as he battles Mace Windu, ostensibly overpowered, the reader is never left in any doubt as to who’s in control of the situation; as he executes “Order 66”, the final move in his decades-spanning stratagem, it’s made plain to the reader that, in of themselves, the Clone Wars are the real revenge of the Sith.
And like all the greatest novelisations, Stover’s widens its story’s canvas considerably, incorporating a number of plot threads that either found their way onto the cutting room floor, or weren’t even shot to begin with. The Loyalist Committee’s campaign to stop the war, which unconsciously marks the dawn of the Rebel Alliance, accounts for an ample amount of the book’s narrative, and the author also sees fit to restore George Lucas’s controversial ‘jealousy’ plot thread, the excision of which from the movie led to a couple of nonsensical moments - most notably Anakin’s vehemently barked “You were with him!” allegation just before he attacks Obi-Wan on Mustafar. Similarly, Anakin’s apparently disproportionate reaction to the Jedi refusing to grant him the rank of master is given new context here, as Stover makes it clear that there is far more behind Anakin’s impulsive rage than just being on the receiving end of yet another Jedi Council slight.
However, such things are more than made up for by the author’s deft weaving of Revenge of the Sith into the expanded Star Wars universe’s lore, blending it seamlessly with the novels that bookend it and even linking it to his own novel, Shatterpoint, in the most edifying of ways as he exposes the shatterpoint of the dark side itself. And for those who dismiss the events of novelisations as being of no consequence, I’d refer them to the author’s October 2006 post in the Jedi Council Forums: “What's in that book is there because Mr Lucas wanted it to be there. What's not in that book is not there because Mr Lucas wanted it gone.” Its dialogue may be different and its emphasis askew, but this book is a part of the fabric of the Star Wars universe, and in my view probably the apotheosis of it.
I can see why Stover was chosen over others to novelise the Star Wars saga’s final, connecting chapter. His prose remains incredibly descriptive despite bordering on the poetic, allowing him to convey the high-octane action of the Revenge of the Sith movie without demeaning the tragedy that sits at its heart. By turns lyrical and gross, this contentious author’s novelisation paints its larger-than-life characters as mythical heroes, documenting their deeds with matchless reverence and poise, and laying their souls bare for all to dissect. Stover’s tale is not one of a man simply seduced by the dark side of the Force, but one of a man with a “dead-star dragon” buried deep in his psyche; a man tormented by love and fear of losing that love; a man that would beget a monster. Lord Vader, rise…
