David Gemmell Legend Award - Voting is Open
The first round of voting for the inaugural David Gemmell Legend Award has been open since December 26th and I've cast mine. I won't say which book I voted for (it is a secret ballot after all) but I will say that I think it's great that we have a new award that serves a dual purpose: commemorating the life and work of one of the great British fantasy writers whilst recognising the work of the current cream of the fantasy crop.
Of course, we already have the World Fantasy Awards, the British Fantasy Awards and numerous smaller, more specific accolades performing much the same latter role, so it will be interesting to see whether the DGLA works to differentiate itself in years to come.
Personally I think there's an argument for re-focusing the award on fantasy novels that are either published in the UK or written by UK-based authors. This stronger focus on the regional element would have two main benefits, from a marketing perspective:
1) It would generate attention for the work of UK-based authors and publishers, which would in turn offer a stronger incentive for those authors and publishers to support the award and publicise it via their own blogs, websites and mailing lists.
2) It would help to position the award as the fantasy equivalent of the highly-regarded Arthur C Clarke Award, which has been providing a focus on UK-based science fiction writers and publishers since 1987.
I also think a return to the originally-announced voting system - a judging panel for the final decision on the winner, based on a shortlist generated by public vote - would be a good idea. This original system had the dual advantage of allowing the public to have its say via the first stage vote, but then removing the 'popularity contest' element at the second stage and allowing a qualitative final decision to be made by a panel of acknowledged experts, whose necessary reading pile would be limited to just those five titles. A win-win there, surely?
But in the meantime, we do have a two-stage voting system, it is open to the public and I therefore urge everyone to head on over to gemmellaward.ning.com and participate. Voting is simple and you don't have to join the Ning group first if you don't want to.
Update 03.01.09: SFAwardsWatch.com picked up on this post, but managed to interpret my musing on how the award's marketing potential could be boosted as a call for a radical overhaul of the DGLA before the first winner has even been voted for. Hmmm. I'm pretty sure that wasn't what I was suggesting, but that just goes to show: it's all in the interpretation.
Update 08.01.09: James Long shares some thoughts on the second round public vote over at speculativehorizons.blogspot.com.
On Monarchy in Fantasy Fiction
Marie Brennan took a look at the fantasy genre's enduring fascination with monarchy over at sfnovelists.com last week.
Marie made some very good points about just why it is that rule by kings, queens, princesses, princes et al seems to be such an ingrained trope of the genre (mythic resonance, focus of dramatic attention on key individuals) and there's nothing wrong with that sort of thing at all. But I also agree that it would be great to see some variety in the governmental power-structures from time to time.
Admittedly, we do see the occasional imperial (monarchic militocracy) or rule by a shadowy cabal of thieves and / or assassins (anarchic feudalism) or a council of wise mages (oligarchic noocracy) or knife-and-pyre-wielding high-priests (totalitarian theocracy) but there are other options out there that would be equally interesting to read about. Something based on the dynastic plutocracies that held sway in the mediaeval Italian City States, perhaps? Or how about a genuine meritocracy, in which the rulers are selected from amongst those best-suited for the job as a result of their skills and abilities (or would that be pushing the willing suspension of disbelief just a little too far?)
Of course, some of those systems (or others) may have been explored already and I just haven't come across them yet - any suggestions or recommendations for further reading?
Season's Greetings from Vincent Chong
I've been lucky enough to receive another seasonal card from a top fantasy artist. This time it's an e-card: a rather lovely surreal fantasy piece from double British Fantasy Award-winning artist Vincent Chong.
Cheers, Vinny!
Star-struck by Stardust
Jo and I finally got around to watching the movie adaptation of Neil Gaiman's Stardust last night via Sky Anytime.
I've always had a soft-spot for fairytale movies - two of my favourites being Labyrinth and The Princess Bride (of course). I think it's the über-story-telling element that attracts me to this sort of fantastical tale more than any love of the aesthetic elements or desire for a simple story with a happy ending.
Perhaps Stardust won't be quite as memorable as the other two, which both have more one-liners and out-and-out comedy moments or stand-out performances (although Robert de Niro as Captain Shakespeare was a definite highlight). But still, it was a good adaptation of the Gaiman original - I think, it's been a while since I read it - which Jo and I thoroughly enjoyed watching and would recommend to anyone looking for a good, entertaining family movie (with just a soupçon of adult humour thrown in) this holiday season. Or, indeed, at any time.
Highly Recommended Reading: 'The Escapement' by K.J. Parker
I've been a huge fan of K.J. Parker's work since I read The Colours in the Steel, part one of the Fencer Trilogy, back in 1998.
At the time, the qualities that really stood out were the obvious intelligence and inventiveness of Parker's non-linear, non-predictable plotting and the way in which the author experimented not only with the conventions and tropes of the fantasy genre, but with my experience and expectations as a fantasy reader as well; something that's developed into a major theme for my reading preferences nowadays.
These qualities were developed further and displayed to quite marvellous effect in Parker's second series, the Scavenger Trilogy. In Shadow, Pattern and Memory the age-old missing-memory / mystery identity scenario was explored from every conceivable angle and in so convoluted and twisted - yet utterly coherent and delightfully entertaining - a manner that I was left absolutely flabbergasted by the literally unbelievable intricacy with which Parker had constructed the - apparently chaotic but ultimately quite superbly structured - narrative arc of the series. It remains one of the most fascinating pieces of writing that I've enjoyed to-date and I definitely intend to go back and re-read it one day, if only to spend more time examining how Parker pulled off quite such an impressive feat.
In the Engineer Trilogy, Parker takes things in a slightly different direction again. I'm no trained literary critic, so I can only explain it as I experienced it, but to my mind, it seemed as though the series was - in part, and on at least one level - an examination of the concepts of story-construction and the driving forces that work to influence narrative direction and flow. To undertake this examination, Parker develops a narrative machine; an intricate, precise mechanism for processing (telling) the raw elements (characters, ideas, setting) of story into an engineered output (a trilogy of novels): quite literally, Parker constructs a 'plot-device'.
And once set in motion, this literary word-mill proceeds to blend concepts such as freedom, choice, compulsion, destiny, good and evil, along with emotional motivators like love, hate, duty, fear, patriotism and self-interest, to produce a tale in which events, once set in motion by what turns out to be an incredibly simple trigger mechanism, then power forwards with all the inevitability of a clockwork fate that has no off-switch.
Yet at the same time, the series is by no means governed by a linear, predictable sequence of cause and effect. There is method throughout, certainly, but as you read you begin to discover just how intricate a mechanism Parker has constructed and how much of the motive power is generated from deep within; it's by no means obvious exactly what the overall shape of the thing will turn out to be, because this particular writer is highly adept at springing surprises on the reader - something else I most definitely relish - and showing you what you may think is the blueprint for the entire saga whilst keeping a crafty thumb over the box in the corner that reads 'sheet one of several...'
There is a central and fairly obvious drive-shaft that powers the plot: Engineer Ziani Vaatzes' quest for revenge (possibly) or at least restitution (well, maybe) is the most obvious element in the plot-mechanism's construction. But then there's also an incredibly complicated gearing system of sub-plots and minor arcs that act, quite unpredictably, to shift the balance of the story from one moment to the next. Added to that, the interplay between the book's principle and supporting characters (again, it's never quite or immediately obvious who, exactly, is driving this thing, although Vaatzes is usually the chief suspect) is just terrific to watch and almost impossible to predict.
The whole thing is then wrapped in layers and layers of engineering metaphor - both mechanical and social - as well as a good thick plating of a philosophical exploration of the human condition - very skilfully bolted-on, mind, no shoddy work here - that's then glossed with some superbly droll word-play; burnished just nicely in turn by a quite lovely ear for convincingly under-played dialogue which provides just enough of a patina of age and writerly experience to prevent it all from seeming too shiny and work-shy.
The series is a thoroughly intriguing read throughout. One quick caveat, though: Devices and Desires and The Escapement are perhaps just a little more readable than middle volume Evil for Evil. I'm afraid the second instalment in the series is rather... long. It's as if the machinery that Parker initially sets in motion, having built up an impressive head of steam, then bursts a secondary gasket, runs low on pressure as a result and has to go back to the shop for a while so its operator can adjust a few valves, add some more fuel to the boiler, top up the water and get everything ready for another run at the home stretch. Part II involves plenty of plot-building and character development, but most of it seems to be the sort of tinkering that - whilst assuredly necessary and all very essential in the great scheme of things as they eventually turn out - isn't necessarily quite as interesting as it could be to watch at great length.
But you really should stick with it, because in The Escapement (incidentally, and in relation to a clockwork mechanism: "the part of the movement which controls the release of the motive power") Parker really cranks the revs back up and gets everything moving along again at a fair old clip, sweeping smoothly towards what turns out to be an extremely satisfying and gratifyingly well-rounded denouement.
One side-product of the whole process that I experienced was yet another bout of gob-smacked marvelling on my part: not least at the sheer amount of mental effort that must have gone into conceptualising and designing all the many interlocking parts of this incredible narrative, as well as the very obvious skill with which the author actually assembled the tale: combining in a few hundred thousand words into a configuration of amazing artifice; one that then delivers as its end-product a feat of apparently effortless story-telling. Surely another masterpiece from a writer working at the very height of their powers.
In conclusion: if you consider yourself to be any kind of a connoisseur of well-written, intelligent, mind-stretching, trope-defying fiction (in all nine quite unashamedly fantastical novels to-date I'm pretty sure I haven't spotted so much as an iota of magic, nor a hint of supernatural forces at work, and not so much as a hair of an elf or a scale of a dragon) then you simply must give K.J. Parker's books a go.
And personally, I simply can't wait to see what this incredible wordsmith is going to come up with next.
Reading Update, early February 2008: Robert V.S. Redick, Justin Gustainis
I've recently read a couple of titles that, for one reason or another, I don't feel able to post under Recommended Reading, but I'll mention them here for completeness' sake (I'm determined to at least mention everything relevant that I manage to read in 2008. Everything...)
First up: The Red Wolf Conspiracy, by Robert V.S. Redick. I really, really wanted to like - no, thoroughly enjoy - this one, for all sorts of reasons; not least that I just love the Edward Miller cover art. And for a while it was looking like a definite recommendation prospect: Redick's writing was fluid and eminently readable, and the story started well, with intriguing characters, an exotic and vivid setting setting and early plot pointers that promised all sorts of interesting developments ahead...
But then, about half-way through, it all... shifted. I began to feel that I was no longer reading an intriguingly baroque, intricate low-fantasy saga: a tale of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary circumstances and just doing their best to prevail against the (much more powerful forces) of intriguing self-interest and coherent character motivation ranged against them. Instead, the whole thing morphed into a rather bog-standard high-fantasy kiddie-quest: plucky, likeable youngster discovers they're suddenly - and rather bizarrely - the Most Important Kid in the World and immediately sets out (with help from their Gang of Assorted Faithful Sidekicks) to Save Everything from the Frighteningly Powerful Bad Guy and cast of (suitably menacing, yet easily defeated) Supporting Minions, who somehow completely fails to spot the danger and kill the little bastard while they still have the chance.
You'll have to excuse the dripping sarcasm, but I was gutted - to say the least - when that one was sprung on me after a couple of hundred pages.
To be fair, I think the problem may have been that I set my initial expectations too high and that I felt those expectations were being met to begin with. Perhaps I should have spotted the early warning signs - notably that two of the central p.o.v. characters were teenagers - and expected more of a traditional coming-of-age quest slog, rather than assuming here was a chance to get my teeth into something more firmly rooted along the Miéville - Lynch - Abercrombie axis. Maybe then I wouldn't have been quite so disappointed when the anticipated low-fantasy literary treat failed to materialise. Or rather, when the narrative abandoned its deep, stormy start and set sail for much safer, shallower waters.
Look, don't get me wrong, it's not a bad book, not by any means. The writing itself holds up pretty well throughout, and if Redick had only stuck to the much darker tone and atmosphere of the earlier chapters, then I might have been proclaiming another classic round about now. I just didn't feel as if the second half of the book lived up to the standard of the first.
And of course this is just my personal opinion, entirely subjective, normal caveats apply, etcetera... other bloggers have reviewed it quite favourably and enthusiastically (although Mark Yon seems to have picked up on some of the same issues that troubled me in the second half) so if it sounds like your cup of tea, then go for it. It's still a much stronger fantasy brew than the weak and wishy-washy, cliché-diluted stuff that's usually on offer.
My second not-so-great recent reading experience was Black Magic Woman by Justin Gustainis. Again, I really hoped that I'd like this one, mainly because I'm a sucker for supernatural / detective cross-over stuff, and just love discovering a new author's milieu to get stuck into. And again, on the face of things, Black Magic Woman seemed at first as though it was going to push all the right buttons.
Alas, though, the book has a fatal stylistic flaw: it's written in the third person. Admittedly it's not compulsory that a supernatural / detective story be written in the first person, but it rather seems as though just about all my favourite examples of the oeuvre are: Jim Butcher's Dresden Files, Charlie Huston's Joe Pitt novels, Mike Carey's Felix Castor books, the early Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter titles by Laurell K. Hamilton and - pushing the boundaries of the oeuvre a little further - Michael Marshall's Straw Men series and John Connolly's Charlie Parker books.
And I think there are a number of very good reasons why first person works so well for this sort of story. Not only does the use of the single-narrator p.o.v. allow for a more immediate association of the reader with the main character; it also limits the reader's field-of-view: the reader only knows what the main character knows, which allows the writer to heighten the sense of anticipation as they build towards the story's revelatory climax. That makes it much easier for the writer to lay down false trails for the reader to follow as they inevitably try to puzzle out the mystery for themselves, leading to a much greater chance that the reader will be surprised by the denouement. And personally speaking, I just love a book - especially a mystery / crime novel - that's rich with the element of surprise.
But Gustainis' use of the third person narrative meant that he'd laid all his plot elements out within a couple of chapters of the start. We knew who all the main players were, what they were up to, what their motivations were. So it's a fairly simple job, from a very early stage, to work out the pattern of the plot and guess how everything is going to fit together. And I'm afraid that meant the bulk of the book was pretty much an exercise in wishing they'd all get the heck on with it so I could see if I was right or not, whilst hoping that there was one really subtle clue that I'd missed that would bite me at the end...
It wasn't to be. Everything panned out pretty much as predicted and I'm sorry to say that I was able skim-read the last 100 pages or so without spotting anything that made me want to go back and read in detail. A shame, but there you go.
I've also read K.J. Parker's The Escapement. But I will be recommending that one, just as soon as I find the time to gather my thoughts and put fingers-to-keyboard.
On fantasy and a preference for fantastical fiction
"If more writers didn't write 'fantasy' so self-consciously and follow imagined 'rules' of the genre then the whole thing might not be so hidebound and repetitive. It should be the most creative writing around but is frequently the most conservative."
From an interview with Steph Swainston that I've just posted over on UKSFBN. She also says:
"What I find jarring in fantasy is 'magic'. It's usually a way of systemising lazy plot devices."
It's always a question of subjective taste - horses for courses, each to their own etc. - but I do have to say that over the past few years, the sort of fiction I've most enjoyed reading recently has been exactly that: fantasy in name, but without all the trappings and paraphernalia of magic, or a magical 'system': no spells, rituals, wizards, glowing swords, enchanted artefacts, elves, dwarves, dragons, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
A few examples off the top of my head: China Miéville (Perdido Street Station etc.), K.J. Bishop (The Etched City), Scott Lynch (The Lies of Locke Lamora, Red Seas Under Red Skies), Alan Campbell (Scar Night; which I'm currently reading and thoroughly enjoying), Jeff Vandermeer (Veniss Underground), Jeffrey Ford (The Physiognomy), and indeed, Steph Swainston (The Year of Our War and No Present Like Time)... oh, and yes, I do realise I've just reeled off a list of mainly 'new weird'-type authors. I'm obviously a mainly 'new weird'-type reader.
The reason these books are labelled 'fantasy' is the incredibly rich sense of the fantastic that they're steeped in: exotic settings sometimes utterly unlike our own mundane world, populated by esoteric and idiosyncratic characters and fantastical creatures, or entities with powers and abilities beyond those of your average mortal man; an atmosphere that's strangely alien and weirdly compelling and that opens up huge vistas of imagination to your mind's eye. All the stuff you'd presumably expect to find in the pages of any fantasy novel - and do to varying degrees - but, well, without the sound of dice rolling in the background...
Having said that, there are a number of 'traditional' fantasy authors whose work I do still enjoy - or would undoubtedly still enjoy if I actually had the time to read them - George R.R. Martin, Steven Erikson, Greg R. Keyes, Glen Cook - as well as a few new fantasy authors who are writing in a more traditional style but whose work I nevertheless have found to be very rich and satisfying, such as Joe Abercrombie (The Blade Itself, Before They Are Hanged, who has a wonderful habit of twisting classic fantasy tropes until they beg for mercy) and Brian Ruckley (Winterbirth, a debut that, to be truthful, could have been enriched by the inclusion of stronger fantastical elements, yes, but promises much for volumes to come).
It all comes down to the quality of the writing, obviously, which in itself is the result of a blend of natural talent and sheer, bloody-minded hard graft; the honing and polishing of prose far beyond the "it'll do" state that seems so commonly acceptable to some. So I think Steph Swainston's point about "lazy plot devices" is especially pertinent. There are a number of fantasy authors - whose names are well know and need not be reeled off here - for whom the grazing of the cash cow seems to be much more important than the exploration of new territories, the uncovering of rich troves of concept and idea, the sheer joy of expressing an unbounded imagination. "It'll do, it's set in the same world, the same characters are back again, it's got lots of magic in it, they'll love it."
But then, perhaps you actually need a fair-sized dollop of that sort of thing to keep the genre viable. If we didn't have the cash-cow-herders churning out their same-old, same-old (to return briefly to one of yesterday's themes) to sell in vast numbers to their legions of adoring fans, then genre sections in bookstores would rapidly shrink, and publishers would lose the little leeway they currently have to bring out the more interesting work alongside the mainstream mass-market stuff.
Or perhaps it's just the way the genre market is structured that naturally lends itself to a gradual, progressive filtering process. You start - as nearly everyone starts - with the obvious, in-yer-face stuff: Tolkien, Eddings, Brooks, Goodkind, Jordan et. al. but then - and this is the important bit - you have a choice:
You can, quite happily, wallow around in the shallows for the rest of your reading life, just grazing on what's put in front of you by the booksellers and bean-counters, then move on to nothing more challenging than whatever comes along from the next batch of imitators.
Or, you can evade the nets of advertising and '3 for 2' promotions and wade a little deeper, guided by the online word-of-mouth of the brave souls who have ventured forth before you, to see what's lurking out there, amongst the reefs and rocks...
Come on in, the deep water's lovely... :)
Lou Anders' 'Most Significant SF' meme
Via Lou Anders of Pyr Books, writing on his (always worth reading) Bowing to the Future blog, a list-meme based on the Science Fiction Book Club's list of the fifty most significant science fiction / fantasy novels published between 1953 and 2002.
The Key:
Bold the ones you've read.
Strike-out the ones you hated.
Italicize those you started but never finished.
Put an asterisk beside the ones you loved.
1. The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien [*]
2. The Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov
3. Dune, Frank Herbert
4. Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert A. Heinlein
5. A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin
6. Neuromancer, William Gibson
7. Childhood's End, Arthur C. Clarke
8. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K. Dick
9. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley
10. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury
11. The Book of the New Sun, Gene Wolfe
12. A Canticle for Leibowitz, Walter M. Miller, Jr.
13. The Caves of Steel, Isaac Asimov
14. Children of the Atom, Wilmar Shiras
15. Cities in Flight, James Blish
16. The Colour of Magic, Terry Pratchett [*]
17. Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison
18. Deathbird Stories, Harlan Ellison
19. The Demolished Man, Alfred Bester
20. Dhalgren, Samuel R. Delany
21. Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey
22. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card
23. The First Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, Stephen R. Donaldson
24. The Forever War, Joe Haldeman
25. Gateway, Frederik Pohl
26. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling
27. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams [*]
28. I Am Legend, Richard Matheson
29. Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice
30. The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin
31. Little, Big, John Crowley
32. Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny
33. The Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick
34. Mission of Gravity, Hal Clement
35. More Than Human, Theodore Sturgeon
36. The Rediscovery of Man, Cordwainer Smith
37. On the Beach, Nevil Shute
38. Rendezvous with Rama, Arthur C. Clarke
39. Ringworld, Larry Niven
40. Rogue Moon, Algis Budrys
41. The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien
42. Slaughterhouse-5, Kurt Vonnegut
43. Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson [*]
44. Stand on Zanzibar, John Brunner
45. The Stars My Destination, Alfred Bester
46. Starship Troopers, Robert A. Heinlein
47. Stormbringer, Michael Moorcock
48. The Sword of Shannara, Terry Brooks
49. Timescape, Gregory Benford
50. To Your Scattered Bodies Go, Philip José Farmer
So I've read, what, fourteen of the top 50? Hated one of them - sorry, but Thomas Covenant just pushed all the wrong buttons, although I absolutely loved Donaldson's The Mirror of Her Dreams and A Man Rides Through - and yes, I also loved the (probably predictable) formative teenage-reads: LOTR, HHGTTG, The Colour of Magic... oh, and Snowcrash, which is the novel that switched me on to the idea of SF being about so much more than robots and spaceships... and perhaps that attitude is why I haven't been anywhere near some of the titles on the rest of the list.
And no, I didn't finish The Forever War; don't think I was in the right frame of mind at the time. But I have got a copy of the new Gollancz omnibus edition of Forever War, Forever Free and Forever Peace [Amazon], so at some point I'll sit down and read all three.
Also in my defence, the selection does have rather a US-flavoured slant to it, albeit as you'd expect from the US SF Book Club; and there are a few titles in there that have been out of print in the UK for years, so I can probably claim lack of exposure to quite a few of them (although as an excuse it's a pretty poor one; sf transcending mere geographical boundaries etc. and seeing as we have, like, the Interweb and stuff these days).
And I have read other stuff by Clarke, Moorcock, Dick, Matheson, Bradbury, Asmiov and Gibson. Oh, and I do have a copy of John Crowley's Little, Big [Amazon] on my 'to be read' shelf, in fact it's been there for the past six years (I know, I know, but I'm saving it for a special occasion and besides, the print in the Gollancz Fantasy Masterworks edition that I've got is really small...)
And of course it's tricky without knowing the original criteria for assessing their 'significance' (I did find the original list, but there's no mention of the process it's based on), so I'm obviously in danger of straying into the realms of purely subjective opinion, but there are a few titles that I'd argue were ripe for inclusion on the basis of their importance to the UK market, starting with:
Legend, David Gemmell [*]
Mythago Wood, Robert Holdstock [*]
Consider Phlebas, Iain M. Banks
And there would be more if I put my mind to it, I'm sure. But it's Monday morning, I've just spent most of the weekend decorating, and my head is full of paint fumes, dammit...
[edit December 4th-7th] And here they are...
Use of Weapons, Iain M. Banks [nominated by Ed Ashby]
Midwich Cuckoos, John Wyndham [nominated by Joe Gordon]
The Weirdstone of Brisingamen, Alan Garner
Hyperion, Dan Simmons [nominated by Ed Ashby]
The Malazan Books of the Fallen, Steven Erikson [*]
Drowned World, J.G. Ballard [nominated by Brian Ruckley]
Swords and Deviltry, Fritz Leiber [nominated by Brian Ruckley, seconded and fact-checked by silvereel]
Feel free to make your own nominations in the comments there, folks.





