The Time of Contempt

The Time of Contempt, the fourth volume of The Witcher saga, shows the best and worst the series so far: on the one hand, here is another story full of intriguing characters and complex social relations; on the other, our… contempt for the constant repetition of ideas and severe structure problems has just increased.

The story begins shortly after the events of Blood of Elves, with Princess Cirilla of Cintra being taken by Yennefer to a school for witches while Geralt tries to discover the identity and intentions of the girl’s many pursuers. Ciri remains the protagonist, then, and her future is the big question mark: will her good intentions prevail in the end, or will her family curse dictate her actions and lead her to a path of war? Will she be able to choose which road to take, or is her destination already sealed by fate?

The book’s main theme, then, is the same as Sword of Destiny, a desperate fight against fate, sharing also its sense of fatalism, which is imbued in the general atmosphere: we’re led to question whether Ciri has the capacity to confront something that even Geralt couldn’t conquer. It’s an atmosphere built by many foreboding signs: the prophecies Ciri utters, for example, not only point to someone’s death, but also transpire as violently as she describes.

The very concept of death is constantly related to the girl. The knight that pursues her, for example, is marked by a black helmet shaped like a bird of prey – and Ciri seems to be frequently drawn to situations that end with various corpses scattered across the floor. In one scene, the narrative – never subtle – even has spectral knights following her during a storm.

Despite that, Ciri refuses to kill other human beings even when her own life is at stake. She’s a curious and energetic child whose strong, willful personality contrasts heavily with the menacing aura that surrounds her. She pranks adults all the time, is silly enough to name a unicorn “little horse,” believes herself to give sharp answers to her instructors even though most are only foolish, and has simple aspirations: Ciri only desires to stay close to those she loves. She’s not unaware of the world’s cruelty, however: her trauma of watching her kingdom being invaded still haunts her, influencing her decisions. So, if she becomes a great character to follow, it’s precisely because of this friction between her joyful personality and the tragic aura that surrounds her.

The narrative’s overall tone is defined by contrasts, often varying between extremes with ease, sometimes even in the same chapter: if books could be diagnosed with Borderline Disorder, this one probably would. The Time of Contempt has scenes that wouldn’t fell out of place in a YA novel, such as Ciri’s adventures in a city; but also a lot of satirical comedy, such as the long gathering of wizards that functions like a parody of the political intrigue of works such as A Game of Thrones; and violent scenes filled with gore, such as the descriptions surrounding a certain group of rebels.

It’s a book that contains comic passages built on the absurd, such as this accurate confession by Geralt:

“But I can’t imagine your wily old fox is capable of surprising me. Not after what I’ve been through here. I’ve been mauled by spies and jumped by endangered reptiles and ermines. I’ve been fed non-existent caviar. Nymphomaniacs with no interest in men have questioned my manhood. I’ve been threatened with rape on a hedgehog, menaced by the prospect of pregnancy, and even of an orgasm, but one without any of the ritual movements.”

But also more grounded, indigestible scenes about the terrible cycles of violence:

“In the valley of the River Velda, the caravan of manhunters was routed and massacred by a gang of Nilfgaardian marauders. All the manhunters and male captives were killed. Only the girls were spared. The girls didn’t know why they had been spared. Their ignorance did not last long. Mistle was the only one to survive. She was pulled out of the ditch where she had been thrown naked, covered in bruises, filth, mud and congealed blood, by Asse, the son of the village blacksmith, who had been hunting the Nilfgaardians for three days, insane with the desire for revenge for what the marauders had done to his father, mother and sisters, which he’d had to watch, hidden in a hemp field.”

The narrative moves elegantly between these passages, however, avoiding the changes in tone feeling too sudden, by always putting comic bits – especially irony – in the heavier scenes, and a bit of violence in the lighter ones (a puppy, for example, is torn apart by a creature Ciri faces in her adventures in the city). Meanwhile, the stronger moments of violence are frequently preceded by a gradual increase in tension so that they feel natural. The result is that the book’s Borderline disorder actually makes it both unpredictable and fascinating, keeping us guessing about what’s coming next.

Nevertheless, The Time of Contempt indeed resembles almost nothing the book that began the series, The Last Wish, which was basically structured like a collection of short stories, which in turn drew inspiration from classic fairy tales such as Snow White and Beauty and the Beast, focusing only on the moral dilemmas of the witcher Geralt. In this novel, though, not only has the worldbuilding acquired epic proportions, and the fairy tale inspirations have been basically abandoned, but even the protagonism has shifted from Geralt to Ciri. Pierre, the purist, would be mad at it, is what I’m saying, averse to change as he is (luckily for Sapkowski, he doesn’t care about The Witcher), but if not for the ensuing structural problems, this change would have worked. For the most part, at least.

The Time of Contempt still shines when it comes to discussing social issues, for example. The case for neutrality, so defended by Geralt, is still criticized by others: a character warns him that remaining neutral on certain political debates usually helps the oppressor and, to illustrate, asks Geralt about his position on feminism – whether women should remain submissive or fight to secure equality – just to laugh at the look on the witcher’s face, after he realizes how his usual responses (“I don’t care/Don’t have an opinion on it”) would sound like to his listeners. Some matters, after all, can’t afford disinterest.

Let’s take a look at how the rebel group of elves and dwarves, called Scoia’tael, is portrayed. A simpler narrative would just frame them as noble rebels against systematic racism (all non-humans in this world even have to pay additional taxes for being who they are), but The Time of Contempt complicates matters when it shows the emperor of Nilfgaard – who plans to expand his territories to Geralt’s continent – fostering a culture of hatred among their ranks. This ends up distorting their primary goals and making them commit and defend the same atrocities they have suffered: this rebel group no longer fights for their rights, then, but has been co-opted by a politician and manipulated to cause political instability in the region. The Scoia’tael have become a tool to help someone else seize power.

The narrative still struggles with exposition, though, which has become more aggravating now that Geralt’s – sorry, Ciri’s – world has expanded and become more complex. The explanations offered are lengthy and didactic, with characters recounting past events for several pages. There is always some reason for them to discuss this information, but the delivery is far from elegant: it’s blunt text after blunt text.  The meaning of the title, of course, continues to be repeatedly explained by the characters and the narrator, too: take a shot every time the expression “time of contempt” appears throughout the story and be ready to call an ambulance.

More damning, however, is that, much like in the previous book, the structure here is a total mess. Blood of Elves ended without a climax, which has been placed here… in the middle of the story. The scene itself is exciting and would have worked perfectly at the end of the previous book, but positioned halfway through The Time of Contempt, it obviously feels out of place. Not only that, but after this climax, the novel continues for nearly two hundred pages, in an epilogue that gives the impression that it’s starting a new story altogether with new characters and a new setting. In other words, the ending of the third book is in the middle of the fourth, and the ending of the fourth should have been the beginning of the fifth.

The narrative in The Time of Contempt may be more ambitious than ever, then, but that doesn’t mean it has become any better: overbearing exposition and a nonsensical structure still hinder an otherwise great story.

December 09, 2025.

Review originally published in Portuguese on May 18, 2015.