Review of Galapagos Regained by James Morrow

Megan at From Couch to Moon recently reviewed Frederik Pohl and C.M. Kornbluth’s The Space Merchants.  In the discussion that followed it was noted that satire may be a lost form of speculative fiction.  The most recent title I could think of was John Sladek’s wonderful Tik-Tok, but that was published in 1983.  (I’m aware Pratchett is writing satire, Making Money is brilliant in this regard, but it’s satire amongst a wide variety of humor—slapstick, situational, wordplay, etc.)  I’m happy to say I’ve discovered who is still writing not only satire, but exquisitely pointed satire. 

Possibly the last of his breed, James Morrow is going about the the mode with all the spirit of those before him—Tenn, Sheckley, Malzberg, Pohl, and Sladek among them—but with an attention to detail perhaps not yet seen.  Galapagos Regained (2015, St. Martin’s Press), Morrow’s most recent title, is not only a wonderful addition to literature, but likewise in the early running for best books of 2015 given the focus, execution, and ultimately, the quality.  Possessing Gaiman’s charm, Vonnegut’s wit, and a sense of esoteric erudition of Morrow’s own, it comes highly recommended.

Review of Soldier of the Mist by Gene Wolfe

Of the variations of loss mankind faces, memory is one of the hardest.  Less physically and more existentially painful, memory deprivation is tantamount to losing one’s self; without the past to inform identity in the present, the mind can find itself in a stranger’s body.  Alzheimer’s an extreme, there are subtler variations of memory loss which nevertheless smear the personal conception of self across a subjective peep show of the remembered past.  Entering this gulf of equivocated identity is Gene Wolfe’s brilliant 1986 novel Soldier of the Mist.  The story of a soldier in ancient Greece suffering anterograde amnesia (the inability to form long term memories), the world through his eyes appears unstable and off-putting.  But as time moves on, the reader realizes the man’s condition is not as far removed from a healthy mind’s perspective of memory and the past as it would seem. 

Writing an account of his day on a scroll before going to sleep and encountering a scroll with the words “Read This” in the morning, Latro the soldier learns and relearns anew every day who he is, long term memory gone.  Struck on the head in battle, he retains hazy memories of his youth and language skills, but little else.  Name and home, for example, are a mystery.  Life literally taken day to day, instinct and the will of others guide his life.  On the losing side of the battle, he begins Soldier of the Mist a slave to the victors. Prized by them, he is allowed to befriend an Ethiopian and a poet, and soon comes into a friendship with a young slave girl—she the biggest help in retaining his notion of self.  After the battle a divine intervention sets him on a group pilgrimage to the Shining Mother. The circumstances of life and the condition of his memory quickly shift the focus, however.  His goals evolving with each stop on the map, it’s meeting the necromancer Eurykles that effects the most change.  Witnessing the resurrection of a corpse in a cemetery one evening, Latro’s perception of the gods, the living, and everything between intertwine to lead him closer to who he is.  Trouble is, he may never remember.

Review of "The Lions of Al-Rassan" by Guy Gavriel Kay

Though the practice in Western societies died out long ago, while reading Kay it’s easy to imagine an old European city with him on a street corner, a melodious voice telling the trials and triumphs of men of old.  A myth from another time, his 1995 The Lions of Al-Rassan establishes a mood that is at once empathetic yet speaks of a time more archaic.  Written in warm, refined prose, the themes of history, romance, warfare, and political intrigue as lived by a range of epic characters fill the story to the brim, standing the novel as an example of historical fantasy to rival the best.

Using European history as a springboard, The Lions of Al-Rassan is at heart the tale of Spain’s reclamation of Iberia from the Moors.  Never trying to disguise the fact, Kay nevertheless creates new names for the places, cultures, and religions, the map included even holding the same shape as the Mediterranean.  Kay does, however, writes his own story, that of the larger-than-life Rodrigo Belmonte of the Jaddites and Ibn an Ammar of the Asharites.  The two springing from myth, the eyes of Achilles and Hector can be seen dancing in the shadows.  Belmonte is a supreme military strategist and Ammar a warrior-poet, and despite their individual strengths, each remains subservient to the wishes of their kings and kingdoms.  Religious fervor building between the sun worshippers and the star worshippers, choices regarding honor and duty come often and hit hard for the two men as they traverse the land, doing the bidding of their lords trying to maintain honor and self-respect.  

Like smaller tributaries feeding a larger river, so does Kay tell the story of Belmonte and Amman.  New chapters and scenes beginning in abstract settings or with distant characters, what is introduced is slowly woven into the lives of the two, such that by the end of the novel, a swollen tide of people and events bears the story to its tragic conclusion.  While some of the action and sex is certainly gratuitous, in this novel Kay is at least able to direct these scenes toward the main plotline, salvaging what was superfluous effort in Tigana.  The ending, though a bit rushed, remains satisfying and will surely have more affective readers turning the last page with a heavy heart.

Having helped Christopher Tolkien edit the manuscript that would become The Silmarillion, Kay’s sense of style hearkens back.  Rather than the unpolished, immature prose which a large portion of fantasy rushed from the keyboard to the press exhibits today, Kay has refined his wordplay to the point the pages turn almost imperceptibly.  The tale unraveling rich and elegant, reveals are not immediate and the tone is subtle.  A relaxing balance is struck between the formal use of language and a brevity depending more on action than word.  Focusing on the human aspects and progression of the story, some readers may complain of the lack of cultural elements or details in the setting.  As characterization and plot are so lush and textured, however, most will not notice.

In choosing so many historical settings for his novels, Kay is fast becoming the Michener of historical fantasy - The Lions of Al-Rassan not excluded.  The themes of love, honor, duty, sacrifice, loyalty, etc. so pervasive, the novel is nothing less than classic storytelling.  Thus, for those who enjoy stories told in time worn tradition and in mythic scope, this novel is undoubtedly for you.  Classic characters fleshing out a classic story, this is a well written book even if it adds nothing new to the genre.

Review of "The Terror" by Dan Simmons

The Terror is based on the British vessels HMS Erebrus and HMS Terror and their voyage to discover a northwest passage in the 19th century.  Using their unknown fate as a literary springboard, Simmons freely fills the gap in history as his imagination allows, and in the process has created a work of historical fiction that transcends genre.  Classified horror due to one of its plot devices, the novel is in fact much deeper in scope.  On the surface it is the story of the two ships and their crews’ attempts to survive, frozen in the ice for more than two years, but at another level, it is an examination of the hubris of humanity and its attempts to defy nature.  

Reining himself in from the vivid descriptions and vibrant storytelling of the Hyperion Cantos or Joe Kurtz novels, Simmons’ imagery of a frozen wasteland in The Terror require a tone more subtle and melancholy; the setting of two ships trapped in the frozen Arctic for two years is simply not conducive to action-packed narrative.  Proving as adaptable in style as genre, the effort is successful.  Simmons more than convincingly describes the day-to-day life of trying to survive in -60 degree temperatures and stinging blizzards, not to mention claustrophobia, cabin-fever, and paranoia that set in amongst the crew the longer they spend trapped on the ice. Surprisingly weighing in at over 900 pages, the novel's sublime description of slow dwindling supplies and morale pulls the reader down to the crew’s level for a first hand experience, pace not suffering in the least.  The despair and hope of escaping a situation so far removed from their lives in Britain comes to life under the author's pen and keeps the reader engaged.

Simmons adheres to historical data for as much is available in the bulk of the story.  Certainly, however, he does take some artistic license, not only deciding the fate of the crew members, but also including an ice monster that harasses, terrorizes and generally makes already miserable lives all the worse.  Though its sudden emergence is at times scary, the beast makes enough appearances to warrant deeper investigation into its thematic relevance.  More than a cheesy plot device, who the monster kills is of vital importance to understanding Simmons’ commentary on the mindset of the era, the superman attitude with which colonial powers set about building empires to dominate the world showing its flaws.  The incongruous ending of the novel, rather than confusing the narrative, in fact highlights the degree to which mankind has continued to separate itself from nature.  That many reviewers misunderstand this only emphasizes the point.

At one time historical, horror, and literary fiction, Simmons’ ambitions in The Terror nonetheless remain tightly focused.  By telling the tale from the minds and mouths of the crew, officer to common sailor, the book maintains its social and environmental integrity.   The reader’s vicarious experience of seeing the world through the eyes of Captain Crozier, for example, gaining the knowledge he does after being trapped on the ice for two years is suitable for any era.  As such, this book comes highly recommended for anyone interested in the history of the HMS Erebrus and HMS Terror, life in the Arctic, or simply one man’s imaginative telling of a fate for which history has no record.

(The folks at www.fantasyliterature.com have also posted this review at their site.)
 

Review of "Anubis Gates" by Tim Powers

Anubis Gates is, plain and simple, time travel as it should be told.  Never a gimmick or anachronistic moment, the story holds up well to inspection for annoying plot loopholes and deus ex machini that plague many time travel stories.  Powered by voodoo, the book is a shining example of the positive nature fantasy can add to history for storytelling purposes.

Much in the vein of Dan Simmons’ historical fantasy, Anubis Gates is the story of the modern day scholar on British romantic poets, Prof. Doyle, and what happens after he is taken to hear - in person - a lecture from one of his most admired historical personages, Samuel Coleridge.  The magic that takes him there is Egyptian, but he runs into the likes of Byron, Pope, and Warton along the way.  The poets, however, do not turn out to be anywhere near as interesting as the host of other people Doyle encounters after being stranded in 19^th century London.  Dr. Romanelli, a powerful magician and his spring shoes, Horrabin, the evil beggar clown who walks on stilts, and Dog Face Joe, a man who becomes a werewolf if he doesn’t change skins quick enough, all these and many more characters romp about, chasing one another, trying to solve murders, pursuing immortality, and learning who is actually who in historical terms.  Yes, the plot twists and turns, but never at such a rate to befuddle the reader.  Powers’ tight and focused prose wonderfully balances description with narrative to constantly have the story on the move while at the same time riding that fine line between mystery and clarity, revealing just enough to lead the reader on.  

Much more fiction than history, Powers nonetheless successfully utilizes voodoo magic, the romantic poets and period London to tell a brilliant time travel story that does not leave the reader ashamed.  Characterization is rich and colorful, the setting detailed perfectly for the story, and the plot constructed wonderfully.  There may be deeper elements, allusion, symbolism, etc., but as I am unfamiliar with British romantic era poetry, Anubis Gates remains a true storyteller’s book and comes recommended as a relaxing holiday read.  If only more time travel stories had such integrity.

Review of "Tigana" by Guy Gavriel Kay

Guy Gavriel Kay’s 1990 Tigana is lauded across the net, and the praise is deserved.  Revered by the average fantasy fan on through to the most avid, this story of a banished leader trying to reclaim not only his homeland but the very memory—the essence—of its cultural heart, is both epic and humane in scope and written in sublime prose.  Kay readily admits using the effect of communist-style brainwashing as a plot device for the protagonists’ plight to recover their lost Tigana.   

The result is the book's plot centers on a group of rebels posing as itinerant musicians, criss-crossing the land in search of political connections and sympathizers to help rebuild their country.  Providing impetus, the group’s search and survival are in constant peril due to an ongoing war between two powerful wizards, the most powerful of which being the one who cast the spell that literally erased the country of Tigana from people’s minds.  Set on an Italian peninsula reminiscent of the Renaissance, Kay’s tale is bejeweled with honor, integrity, sacrifice, mythos, virtue, music, and magic.  Through elegant dialogue and rich, detailed characterization, the reader is left mesmerized by a story of belief in country, belief in culture, and belief in the future.  The faults of the novel lie in its digressions; the sex scenes only stir the pot rather than serve the meal and could have been done without.  Likewise, a couple of minor action scenes seemed to have been inserted merely to spice up a section of dialogue that was compelling enough in itself, the added suspense unnecessary.   

Though perhaps still a step or two away, Tigana has nearly become a must read for anyone wishing to call themselves a fan of fantasy, and perhaps will achieve this distinction someday in the not so distant future. The storytelling here is just fantastic.

Review of "The Last Light of the Sun" by Guy Gavriel Kay

Since writing the Fionavar Tapestry, Guy Gavriel Kay has become formulaic.  Tigana, The Lions of Al-Rassan, A Song for Arbonne, and the Sarantium Mosaic have all been in the same pseudo historical style, featured archaic European cultures, and were written in the same style (excluding Arbonne's excesses).  It is thus with Kay's 2004 Last Light of the Sun the reader cannot be faulted for expecting a product precisely in line with these points.  Kay does not disappoint, and as long as there is a willingness to be flexible with style as the reader was with Arbonne, then the novel should satisfy.

With Italy, France, Spain, and the Mediterranean all touched upon before, Last Light of the Sun moves north. Another historical fantasy, the novel blends elements of Norse mythology with the history of the Anglo-Saxons, Scandinavians and the Welsh as they try to coexist on the isles in and around Britain and Scandinavia.  Three basic story arcs comprise the tale: the forgiveness-seeking father and his wandering son, the young man who would become king, and the man seeking revenge for the murder of his brother - all coming together for a dramatic, surprising, and gratifying conclusion.  The storytelling, as is to be expected from Kay, is superb.  More fantastic than books since Tigana, the novel plays off Norse myth in an eerie, delightful manner.  The fairies and monsters of the forest send a chill down the spine, and, as is to be expected with Kay, indirectly inform the storyline while enhancing imagery and sense of wonder.