King of Morning, Queen of Day is technically an Irish generational novel. Split into three distinct sections, from late 19th century, through the early 20th, and onto the present day (at least as of 1991), the novel offers windows into the lives of three successive women: the great-grandmother, grandmother, and the grand-daughter. (The mother forms an interlude.) Emily sees faeries and photographs them while Edward, her father, thinks he has observed extra-terrestrials in the cosmos through his telescope. Emily's daughter Jessica is a youth in Ireland at the time the IRA was forming and starting to sow violence. And lastly is the great-grandaughter, Enye. A graphic designer by day, she destroys mythic beings on the streets of Dublin by night with her digitized katana. Yes, digitized katana. Anything but a fairy Batman, however, her fight is her own. She struggles to integrate with society, much to the chagrin of her prospective boyfriends.
The book rarely feels like a generation novel, however. (In fact, some argue it is a collection rather than a novel.) Each section is distinct in style and perspective, sharply capturing elements of the setting as well as the unique characters the three women are. Given each successive daughter has zero knowledge of her mother also serves to keep the weight of a typical generation novel from setting in. Rather, McDonald loosely uses the format to define an arc which touches several key elements.
Indeed what are McDonald's aims in King of Morning, Queen of Day? I've pondered this for days, and I keep coming back to two words: faery self-actualization. While those two terms in conjunction sell the book short, they capture a core essence. The ethereal beyond plays a prominent, critical role, evolving from liminal to overt in each of the women's lives. It's a faerie novel, for sure. Identity likewise is something each of the women struggle with. Who am I? is a question indirectly asked. Given the nature vs nurture fashion in which faery is implemented means the answer to that question is rarely answered with rainbows and butterflies. Two of the young ladies may, in fact, never answer the question satisfyingly save to say they are on their way.
But there is more. McDonald significantly utilizes science vs. the fantastic. This dichotomy is never featured in debates between stuffy men with moustaches, rather, it is a key component of the background, particularly the degree to which one comes to take dominance. Interestingly, this may be the element which most distinguishes the fact King of Morning, Queen of Day as a generational novel. In each young woman's section the society she lives in has a different view to the dichotomy, giving the novel an indirect sense of temporal progression, though some would argue “progression” is the wrong word.
No review of King of Morning, Queen of Day would be complete without mentioning McDonald's prose. It's phenomenal. I sometimes wax poetic about McDonald's writing on this blog, but without exaggeration this novel displays his best. Each of the three sections of the novel features prose tailored to the setting. The late 19th captures its Victorian mannerisms in epistolary form—journal entries, letters, meeting minutes, newspaper articles, etc. Effortlessly, McDonald switches to multiple third-person perspectives for the early 20th section, and slowly braids the various viewpoints into a cohesive narrative. And the final section is a more modern third-person singular, allowing the book to focus on one woman and the life she leads trying to deal with both her legacy and quotidian existence. Across this spectrum the book deploys relevant syntax and diction at each transition. It showcases how adeptly versatile and truly talented McDonald is. For lovers of prose, this is a true feast.
In the end, King of Morning, Queen of Day is a novel for anyone who enjoys faery, faerie, or just fairy. McDonald gives the reader a feast of content both classic and novel. It features the lives of three distinct women clawing their way through the jungle of youth, trying to find themselves while dealing with the exigencies of their history and existence, both real and ethereal. If you like Hope Mirrlees' Lud-in-the-Mist, Paul Kearney's A Different Kingdom, Charles de Lint, or the aforementioend Grainne by Keith Roberts, give this a try. Beyond the fantastic, however, McDonald likewise gives readers an incredible display of prose worthy of David Mitchell, Michael Chabon, Catherynne Valente and other writers who are capable of putting on mind-blowing displays of diction. This novel is just a treat to read, from beginning to end. Unlike the majority of fantastika, this book is wholly worthy of being resurrected from the dustbin of history.
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