Alright, this isn't much of a book review, since I got no more than ten pages into it at B&N without wanting to vomit my macchiato. An internet scalawag at another forum I frequent described it as "the world's worst Star Wars and Lord of the Rings crossover fanfic ever penned by a clueless fifteen-year-old." Really, that about sums it up. Chris Paolini got lucky when his asshole connected parents managed to crest the Harry Potter teen lit wave and got his shitty fanfic not only published but distributed to every fuckin' major retailer in existence. (No; I'm not bitter!) My wife, who worked at B&N when it came out, said that they were told to sell it as a book "by a teenager, for a teenager".
Here's a quote from the novel I dredged up by typing "Eragon bad writing" into Google, which unsurprisingly churned up about ten zillion hits:
Every day since leaving the outpost of Ceris was a hazy dream of warm afternoons spent
paddling up Eldor Lake and then the Gaena River. All around them, water gurgled through the tunnel of verdant pines that wound ever deeper into Du Weldenvarden.
Eragon found traveling with the elves delightful. Narí and Lifaen were perpetually smiling, laughing, and singing songs, especially when Saphira was around. They rarely looked elsewhere or spoke of another subject but her in her presence.
However, the elves were not human, no matter the similarity of appearance. They moved too quickly, too fluidly, for creatures born of simple flesh and blood. And when they spoke, they often used roundabout expressions and aphorisms that left Eragon more confused than when they began. In between their bursts of merriment, Lifaen and Narí would remain silent for hours, observing their surroundings with a glow of peaceful rapture on their faces. If Eragon or Orik attempted to talk with them during their contemplation, they would receive only a word or two in response.
If you don't know what makes this writing disgustingly amateurish and purple -- hint: spot the cliches and redundancies, as well as the bizarre mood shift -- then congratulations! Paolini has found his audience. You should consider other great "literature" such as the exactly 14,115 novels penned by professional manchild and pedestrian pervert Piers Anthony.
I provide this shitty review just to tell some of you fucks to STAY AWAY FROM THE FUCKING MOVIE ADAPTATION AND QUIT ENCOURAGING THIS SHIT.
I give Eragon one-and-a-half stoned Dan Hsu's out of ten.
