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OtherRealms Issue 24 Part 02
Electronic OtherRealms #24
Spring, 1989
Part 2 of 10
Copyright 1989 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved
OtherRealms may not be reproduced without permission from Chuq Von Rospach.
Permission is given to electronically distribute this
issue only if all copyrights, author credits and return
addresses remain intact. No article may be reprinted or re-used
without permission of the author.
Scattered Gold
Charles de Lint
Copyright 1989 by Charles de Lint
Installment 7: In which we say hello to a last few 1988 titles.
Expecting Someone Taller [***+]
Tom Holt
St. Martin's/Thomas Dunne, 1988; 218pp; $15.95 , 0-312-01426-0
Tom Holt's spoof of Wagner's Ring Cycle, Expecting Someone Taller, is
one of those books that runs out of steam about two thirds of the way
through; what's different about it, however, is that it manages to pick
itself up for a fairly satisfying conclusion.
When Malcolm Fisher (no accident that name -- think Fisher King)
accidentally runs over a badger on a back road in the West Country, he
finds that the beast is actually Ingolf, Master of the World. With his
death, he gifts Fisher with the ring that gives its bearer wealth and
mastScattery of the world, the Tarnhelm, a helmet which lets the wearer
change shape or become invisible, and the ability to understand the
speech of birds. But with these gifts, Fisher also inherits the enmity
of Wotan, the sulfur-dwarf Alberich, the Rhinemaidens....
In short, he's cursed. An unpleasant prospect for a fellow who's
already made a complete botch of his life.
Holt runs with the material very nicely -- the story flows well,
reminiscent of, say, a contemporary Thorne Smith at times, and the
humor is both silly and genuinely amusing. But then there comes an
overlong section where the various characters begin to expound upon the
nature of Love and the book bogs down.
Happily, Holt gets back on track and brings it all to a suitable close,
but it's unfortunate that he couldn't have pared down that one section
to retain the overall briskness and gentle good humor of the novel as a
whole. It's still worth reading, though, and stands head and shoulders
above much of the other so-called humorous fantasy that's currently on
the stands.
Catspaw [***]
Joan D. Vinge
Warner Books, September 1988; 392pp; $17.95, 0-446-51396-2
Joan D. Vinge's Catspaw is the sequel to Vinge's earlier YA novel
Psion, but where the latter had the feel of one of Andre Norton's early
books, Catspaw is an adult novel -- a convincing blend of space opera
and (dare I say it) cyberpunk.
The story brings back the telepath, Cat. In Psion, Cat discovered he
had telepathic powers, only to sacrifice them for the good of humanity.
It was a coming-of-age novel, deftly handled and enjoyable, even if it
didn't break any new ground.
In Catspaw, Cat is blackmailed into becoming the bodyguard of a
highborn Lady, his telepathic powers returned to him through the use of
drugs. At first he doesn't much care for anything but getting the job
over with, but he soon gets caught up in the politics and intrigue that
surround the Lady and her peers. As in the earlier book, Vinge's prose
and storytelling are smooth and enjoyable, but she's still not breaking
any new ground.
Catspaw, entertaining as it is, is still a brew of standard sf icons
and contemporary techniques. It holds the reader's interest, but the
characters, while well-rounded, seem overly familiar, and the plot
pretty much goes where one would expect it to.
If this all seems rather negative, it's not meant to be so. I think
Vinge meant to produce an entertaining space opera, not a big think
book, and considered in that light, the book's both a success and a lot
of fun.
The Dark Door [***+]
Kate Wilhelm
St. Martin's, October 1988; 248pp; $16.95, 0-312-02182-8
Kate Wilhelm's The Dark Door marks the third outing for her
investigators, psychologist Constance Liedl and her husband, ex-NYPD
cop Charlie Meiklejohn, the first two being "The Gorgon Field"
(Asimov's, August 1985) and The Hamlet Trap (St. Martin's Press, 1987).
After the straight mystery novel that The Hamlet Trap was, the new book
returns the pair to an overt sf setting, plainly stated with the
bookends of a prologue and an epilogue from an alien creature's point
of view. Those bookends are the weakest part of the book -- mostly
because there's no real reference points for the reader to grab so that
he or she doesn't care one way or another about the creature as it
sends its probe out into space.
It's not until we leave the alien perspective (which only takes a very
few pages) that Wilhelm's particular strength has a chance to stretch
its muscles: her characterization. The alien probe, we learn, takes up
residence in deserted hotels from which it exerts a terrible influence
on most humans who come into contact with it, driving them into a
murderous rage.
Mostly we follow Meiklejohn, Liedl and one of the early survivors,
Carson Danvers, as they try to deal with the menace. Along the way
there's lots of action, but also time for superior character
development and some fascinating insights into psychiatry and the
behavioral sciences.
Wilhelm is one of the field's real treasures. Over the span of her
career she has tackled every kind of story imaginable -- and many that
only she could imagine -- with the only carry-over similarities being
her polished prose and insightful characterization. Ignore her at your
own risk.
Ursula's Gift [***]
Roger L. DiSilvestro
Donald I. Fine, 1988; 220pp; $16.95, 1-55611-108-8
Ursula's Gift by Roger L. DiSilvestro is the latest entry into the
swelling ranks of humorous fantasy, although, unlike Stasheff, Asprin,
Shas, etc., it takes place in a contemporary setting.
When overweight Stanley Merriweather attempts to rescue a hooker from
being beaten by her pimp, said hooker gifts him with a bite on the shoulder
that turns him into a werewolf. There's good points to it all --
Stanley starts to lose weight and his unrequited love for his secretary
becomes a bit more physical, but there's a down side as well. It seems
that werewolves are duty-bound to kill and eat people. And then there's
Stanley as Great White Hunter of a father who wants to kill him --
although he's vying with a mad psychiatrist to get the job done.
It's all in good fun and DiSilvestro keeps the story rollicking along
quite nicely. He has a tendency to jump ahead in the narrative and then
go back and fill in events, and we've seen this kind of story before --
from Thorne Smith through Peter Beagle -- but all in all, Ursula's Gift
makes for an engaging quick read. It's not as successful as the Holt
title discussed above, but better than most humorous sf/f attempts.
The Changeling Sea [****+]
Patricia A. McKillip
Atheneum, 1988; 137pp; $12.95, 0-689-31436-1
The Changeling Sea marks a return for Patricia McKillip. After brief
forays into science fantasy with Moon-Flash and The Moon and the Face,
and her own blend of cyberpunk with Fool's Run, she has returned to the
dreamy fantasies of The Forgotten Beasts of Eld with a vengeance.
This isn't a big book -- neither in length, nor in its themes. Instead,
it's the quiet story of a scruffy young woman who scrubs floors in a
pub for a living and her involvement with a pair of princes and a
magician. Vast threats don't loom above our heroes. Worlds aren't
saved. But through a lyrical prose that defies description, and a small
cast of quirky characters -- who are both down-to-earth and fey -- she
has illuminated facets of the human condition that will remain with her
readers for many years to come.
The Changeling Sea is a return to a kind of work which McKillip made
her own years ago, but the writer she is now brings to it a
sensitivity, a maturity and a polished prose than the younger writer
she was then could not have hoped to achieve.
Sleeping In Flame [****]
Jonathan Carroll
Legend, 1988; 244pp; L10.95, 0-7126-2357-4
Jonathan Carroll's Sleeping In Flame puts to rest the fears I had when
I first heard that his previous title, Bones of the Moon (1987), was to
be the first in a five-book series. Bones of the Moon needed no sequel --
none of Carroll's books do. But happily, while characters from it do
appear briefly (Weber Gregston), or are mentioned (Cullen James) in the
new novel, Sleeping in Flame remains very much its own story.
It's the contemporary retelling of a well-known fairy tale -- which
tale, I'm not going to say, for fear of spoiling its surprises. In
fact, it brings into consideration the whole question of fairy tales --
how they came to be, how they've been changed through the years,
whether they have any basis in reality, and if so, what?
Walker Easterling, actor and scriptwriter, falls headlong into the
above questions when he first begins his romance with model-turned-
artist, Maris York. As is usual in a Carroll novel, reality and the
fantastic mingle in such a way that both are completely natural, while
taking away neither the grittiness of the former, nor the sense of
wonder inherent in the latter.
Carroll is one of a growing number of new writers who is exploring our
world through the exaggerated lenses of fantasy. No matter how bizarre
or fey the fantasy elements become, they never stray from their
principle purpose of illuminating our world. That Carroll remains a
wonderful stylist, that he is gifted with the ability to convey to the
reader his affection for his characters and blend it all with the
excitement of a thriller, are merely bonuses.
Fool On The Hill [****]
Matt Ruff
Atlantic Monthly Press, 1988; 396pp; $19.95, 0-87113-243-5
Matt Ruff's Fool on the Hill is a novel of organized chaos that takes
place in the author's own alma mater of Cornell University.
It shouldn't work.
There's an intruding Greek Storyteller who steps in to manipulate the
storyline when a deus ex machina is needed. There are talking animals,
bands of sprites tiny enough to do a Victorian proud, various madcap
fraternities, mysterious beings that come and go as the plot needs
them, a dragon (well, sort of), a joint-smoking retired factory
worker... everything but the kitchen sink.
But it does work.
There's something about Ruff's youthful optimism that imbues the book
with a vigor and sense of believability even in its most outrageous
moments. The writing is mature, frivolous, serious, innocent and bawdy
in equal measures. His characters are both larger than life, and very
down to earth.
The plot is (plots are) not easy to summarize, and one can't help but
find a few quibbles in amidst the brouhaha that fills the novel's
pages, but for those readers willing to travel to a place that's
reminiscent of a young Peter S. Beagle meeting a young John Crowley,
yet definitely contains the invigorating spirit of the author's own
particular talents at all times, then this is the book for you.
Fantasy in the Mainstream
The Fiction of Italo Calvino
Chuck Koebel
Copyright 1989 by Chuck Koebel
Traces of science fiction and fantasy have been seeping into mainstream
literature For a long time. Spy novels often use a new computer
program, laser gun, or other technological whiz-bang as a plot device.
Many novels include dream scenes, a technique borrowed from fantasy by
way of Sigmund Freud. Retellings of legends in modern settings are
common. But it is still rare for a major mainstream author (say a Nobel
Prize-winner) to concentrate his or her efforts on fantasy. Rare, but
not unknown: this article is about Italo Calvino, the Italian Nobel
Prize-winner for literature. Fantastic touches run all through his
work; this review will only scratch the surface of what is there.
One of Calvino's most popular books, as well as a good illustration of
his sense of fantasy, is Cosmicomics. This collection of short stories
might be called science fiction if you used a very literal definition.
Each story is based on a single scientific fact or theory. The stories
do not use this science in a traditional way, however. Instead of a
character using science to solve a problem, the characters are often
personifications of the scientific principles themselves. Instead of
everything being precisely calculated from physical formulas, the
forces may be magnified many times for effect, or secondary influences
may be used instead of primary ones. As you can see, we are not talking
about hard science fiction here. Any quantities you might use to check
the stories' accuracy are likely to be wrong by several orders of
magnitude. But as pure entertainment, the stories are wonderful. Their
fantastic atmosphere gives them a sense of fun not found many other
places.
All of the stories start with a short paragraph explaining the
scientific theory being used. Then the real story begins. The stories
are narrated by Qfwfq, a being who is apparently immortal and able to
change bodies at will. He always remembers an incident of his life that
illustrates the theory, either directly or tangentially. For example,
in "All at One Point" it is given that the universe is expanding from a
single point. Qfwfq, of course, remembers how crowded it was back at
that point; he also remembers the lady who triggered the expansion.
"Games Without End" starts with the Hoyle's continuous creation theory
(a theory which has since been disproved). Qfwfq and a friend play a
version of marbles with the hydrogen atoms being created. Similarly,
"The Aquatic Uncle" handles evolution, "How Much Shall We Bet?" takes
on determinism, and other stories play with other theories. My personal
favorite is "The Light Years," which involves an astronomer, an
extremely powerful telescope, and a sign saying "I SAW YOU."
It is probably worth considering what the point of these stories is.
Obviously, Cosmicomics is not a serious attempt at scientific accuracy
like some of Niven and Pournelle's work. But on another level, the
stories can be viewed as folk tales for the modern age. Like
traditional folk tales, what happens in the story could never happen in
real life, but there is a grain of truth in it. We know that Snow
White's wicked witch doesn't exist, but we also know it isn't a good
idea to take apples (or candy) from strangers. Similarly, "The Aquatic
Uncle" could not evolve from sea creature to land animal in his own
lifetime, but species do change. Maybe Calvino's stories can slip
scientific ideas into our subconscious, just like we learned right and
wrong from kindergarten stories. Of course, there is another
interpretation of the stories -- Calvino just wanted to write some fun
fantasy stories. It is hard to argue that the stories are not
entertaining, and that alone may be justification enough for the book.
So, read the book for sheer entertainment or for deep meaning,
depending on your point of view, but do read Cosmicomics. It's too good
to miss.
t zero is a sequel to Cosmicomics. The first section of the book is
entitled "More Qfwfq" and lives up to its title. The stories are less
lighthearted than the earlier ones, but still good. The second section,
"Priscilla," contains three stories about a friend of Qfwfq. The
biological themes are obvious from the titles: "Mitosis," "Meiosis,"
and "Death." All three stories are excellent. Finally, the last section
contains several stories dealing with infinity in one way or another.
The story "t zero" is a meditation on an infinity of alternate
universes made while an archer watches his last arrow fly toward the
lion springing at him. The situation is similar to "An Occurrence at
Owl Creek Bridge" by Bierce or "The Secret Miracle" by Borges, but the
meditation itself is very different. Other stories include "The
Chase," which features an infinite series of hit men pursuing each
other. Anybody who enjoyed Cosmicomics will probably like t zero as
well.
Seemingly infinite regresses also appear in Calvino's later novel If on
a Winter's Night a Traveler. The surface plot begins with you buying a
book from your local bookseller. (The word "you" is intentional; the
book is written in second person, not the normal first or third
person.) When you get home, you start reading the first chapter, which
also appears in the (real) book. That chapter ends in a minor
cliffhanger, but when you go on to the next chapter you discover that
there is a problem -- your copy of the book has no second chapter. In
fact, the entire book consists of copies of the first chapter! The next
day, you try to exchange the book for a good copy, only to find that
the chapter you read was not from the book you intended to buy; it was
from another novel entirely, mistakenly bound in the wrong cover.
Intrigued by the story, you buy a copy of that novel, but the new book
is also incomplete, and so on. The complete plot of the If on a
Winter's Night a Traveler is much too complex to describe here. Suffice
it to say that chapters from no less than ten books are included in
this novel, and that the trials of the reader reach heroic proportions.
Self-reference plays a large part in unraveling the plot. Also present
is an implicit question of how the reader should interact with a book;
should the reader be passive, simply absorbing the words, or actively
involved in acting on the ideas contained there? If on a Winter's Night
a Traveler is highly recommended for readers who like unusual fiction.
Fantasy of a completely different kind appears in The Castle of Crossed
Destinies. Here, the fantasy comes from the tarot deck and from
travelers' tales. The book consists of two sections, "The Castle of
Crossed Destinies" and "The Tavern of Crossed Destinies," each with the
same structure. Travelers escaping some unnamed tragedy gather at a
table with a tarot deck. Unable to speak, they attempt to tell their
stories using the pictures on the cards. Only the pictures on the cards
are used; the common interpretations of tarot reading are ignored. As
the tales are told, the cards are laid down in patterns on the table,
the patterns crossing each other as the same card is needed in more
than one story. Black and white illustrations of the cards and
patterns are shown in the book. The cards form a complete tableau when
all the tales are told; this tableau is also illustrated. The stories
are then contained in the tableau; the travelers' destinies are crossed
on the table as their paths have crossed at the castle and as their
plans are crossed in life.
The stories told by the travelers show a wide variety. Most have some
fantasy element, from ghosts to magicians. There are many tragedies,
since the travelers have been forced together by disaster. Quests are
common, as are ill-fated loves. Some are retellings of famous stories,
such as the tales of Roland, Hamlet, Faust, and Parsifal; others are
original with Calvino. Even the retellings have changed considerably
from their original sources, however. All are told in a simple,
straightforward style that meshes with the circumstances. The mood of a
dark castle or tavern and the shock of recent loss by the travelers are
captured by the descriptions of the hesitating characters and the
subjects of their stories. The Castle of Crossed Destinies is worth
reading both for its stories and as an example of formal style.
Many of Calvino's other books contain elements of fantasy. Perhaps the
best-known is Invisible Cities, a series of conversations between Marco
Polo and Kublai Khan. Polo describes cities, many quite fantastic, to
the Khan, who silently draws conclusions about the state of his empire.
The descriptions themselves are gems of clarity, reminding the reader
of Oz or other wonderful locales. The Baron in the Trees, which some
Europeans consider Calvino's best work, tells the story of a hereditary
baron who leaves human society for an existence living in the trees.
This is not an Italian Tarzan of the Apes, although Calvino was
certainly aware of Burroughs. Calvino's book is an allegory more in
line with The Tin Drum. The Nonexistent Knight and The Cloven Viscount
contains two stories with a strong fantasy flavor. Finally, Italian
Folktales is exactly what the title implies: a collection of
traditional stories, all retold by Calvino. It belongs on the shelf
with Grimms' Fairy Tales.
Calvino's essays are not fantasy per se, but may shed some light on why
it is so powerful. The Uses of Literature is, of course, literary
criticism. Six Memos for the Next Millennium is a posthumous collection
of six lectures he was preparing at the time of his death. Both books
offer a better insight into one of the best authors of our time.
Most of Calvino's work was translated into English by William Weaver.
His translations read almost as if the books were written in English.
------ End ------
